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bijouxcarys · 10 months ago

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Daddy’s Attention (short imagine)

Masterlist (requests are open)

Pairing: Robert Plant x Unnamed Fem OC

Warnings: this is pure FILTH, minors should stay the hell away. NSFW. OH and there's a Daddy kink. So yeah. Shaming is not tolerated.

Word count: 1,091

I imagined Manic Nirvana (1990) era Robert for this, but it's not explicitly stated. Imagine whatever era Robert you want!

Tag list: @brownskinsugarplum76 @firethatgrewsolow @ourshadowstallerthanoursoul @whothefuckisanja @callmethehunter @strsmn @m-faithfull @chromations @celestial-dragoness (if you'd like to be added, let me know!)

She flinched forward, her lips pressed tightly together as she endured yet another sting to the supple skin of her backside. Tears pricked at her eyes. Her knuckles whitened as she gripped desperately at the silk-rope restraints around both wrists. Secured behind her back.

He was teasing her. Pretending to let up on the punishment with gentle strokes of his tepid fingers against her heated skin. Just as she thought she could take a moment to breathe, he’d land another one. Then repeat.

Don’t misunderstand; she had never been more aroused. This was the arrangement she chose to partake in. She was the one who approached him. She had no regrets.

She was his naughty little girl.

The twentieth collision of his palm with her backside sent a twentieth flutter deep down inside.

He reminded her of her misdemeanour. The failure to hold back her release earlier in the night as his talented tongue danced all over her weeping nectar.

What else was she supposed to do? Keep silent and unvexed as her older lover dropped to his knees in the confines of a ladies restroom, situated in the very public restaurant in which an entire event in his honour was being held?

Yes. That’s exactly what she was supposed to do. Yet, she failed. Miserably. Not only did she succumb to the power of Robert Plant, but she allowed herself to whimper in the process.

How dare she.

Robert looked over the state of the pretty young thing he’d made his three months prior. She was perfect for him. Provided everything he needed. The domestic bliss. The companionship. The adventure. The zest for life.

What he needed now was to give her a potent refresher that Daddy doesn’t play.

He already gagged her with his cock, slowly fucked her mouth until he himself was right on the edge. If he wanted, he could’ve unloaded right down her pretty throat, but he wanted to enjoy this. He wanted both of them to enjoy it.

As she whimpered the final count of twenty, there was a tinge of disappointment that this phase of her punishment was over. Her core was pulsating and contracting, even without being touched.

Robert was steady as he moved her to the side, making sure her head was laid against the satin bedsheets, and her delectable rear pointed North.

She was raw, ready, and yearning. She needed Daddy’s attention in every sense of the word. Whilst she was unable to run her fingers through his soft curls now, she knew that would come later; after she learned her lesson through an incessant piercing of her body from his bulging cock.

Robert wasted very little time in manoeuvring her to face the full length mirror beside the bed. He needed her to watch as he impaled her, opened her, filled her up.

And she would.

A fistful of her hair was tangled around his long fingers, a delicious pain igniting her perception as he closed his hand into a rigid fist. Her head was yanked upwards, forced to look at the mirror. They were like two strangers partaking in a sordid, synonymous encounter of voyeurism and exhibitionism.

Robert’s muscles were tense as he kept her held up by her hair, angling his cock to push inside her awaiting orifice. She clenched immediately, basking in the way Daddy made her feel so full.

He told her how gorgeous she looked. All sore and aching, tied up and under his command. So exemplary. Never had he experienced a creature so sublime, and if he had, it had been such a long time.

Pace set, it didn’t take long for Robert’s constant words of humiliating praise to turn into animalistic growls and grunts.

For a moment, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from how viscerally she bounced off of his cock, coating him in all the honey he had induced. Her rear was glowing, and her back arched towards the bed. The poor thing even asked if she was allowed to moan. So obedient, when she wanted to be.

Robert couldn’t deny hearing the feminine noises that he forced out of her as he fucked her so vigorously from behind. The way she’d make little sounds that reverberated in her chest every time his hips bolted against her. In the reflection, he caught glimpses of her marked chest, observing how he manipulated the movement of her beautiful breasts, pert nipples erect and sensitive from his earlier attack.

She let loose. Panting, whimpering, wining, screaming… it felt so good. The behemoth of a man behind her took full control, dominating every ounce of her being, her life, with his skilled, experienced body. She inched closer to her grand release, delighting in his full, tight balls slapping relentlessly against her throbbing clit.

The boys her age never treated her this good. Never made her writhe, mewl, and sob like Daddy did.

He let go of her hair, but swiftly moved to grab a hold of her neck. He yanked her up, leaning himself backwards so she was pressed against his fuzzy chest. She could feel the cool metal of his chains shocking her back as he forced them into a position that resembled the reverse cowgirl.

But Daddy was still in control.

He grunted into her ear, telling his good little slut to soak him, to make a mess, to cum all over his cock.

“Daddy!”

He’d never get tired of hearing that. It made him twitch inside her, and he found himself once again holding back on exploding. His thighs burned as he continued cracking his hips upwards.

Upon hearing her desperate begging, he encouraged her, validated and demeaned her all at once, to let go. She’d earned it. She’d been such a good girl. She’d taken her punishment so well.

Her hips jolted as Daddy’s stimulating slaps to her clit detonated her with an erotic force, choking his cock with her release. In the midst of her daze, Robert pushed her forwards until he was laid almost flat over her, gyrating his hips until he had no choice but to flood her with his love. His hands grabbed onto the silk rope around hers, his nose pressed into her shoulder as he relished the comedown.

She laid there, a satisfied smile on her face as she took in the warmth of her Daddy covering her. Exactly where she wanted to be.

And as Daddy drifted off into his slumber, to lay dormant until his next summoning, Robert commenced his duty of aftercare.

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brf-rumortrackinganon · 1 year ago

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I think this latest article is as much a Kate slander piece as it is a manifestation PR for Meghan. It is certainly aimed at painting a certain picture as you pointed out.

There have been rumours that the PR company did a brand image survey for Meghan and most of the feedback they got was that the public is increasingly against Meghan because of how much she has bashed the BRF. It's been putting people off and it's one of the reasons Meghan isn't getting any work.

So putting it out there that from now on she will not rely of the total image is., Stay away from the royals is a way of reassuring prospective clients that she is overhauling her image and is looking for new work in her own right, as opposed to riding on Harry's coattails.

But it's odd, because to me it seems like she is now doing her own work vis a vis fashion influencer plus she is basking in any glory of any good work Harry does it., Invictus. She only stays away from.his controversial stuff like the book, polo and grovelling to the BRF and whining about his mean daddy taking away military roles. Everything else, she wants to be a part of.like it's her birthright.

As for the Kate bashing, yes of course she will do that. Because that's a sure shit way of antagonizing William. And she doesn't want Harry and William to be on any sort of good terms at all, now or in the future. I do think, Charles, for a his faults, has largely ghosted Harry since he became king. And any form of solid reconciliation has been left up to Williams descretion. This is probably mostly because Harry is also estranged from a lot of the extended family because of Meghan. (Except Eug maybe?).

Any plans that BP or the king's team is hinting at is merely for show, so that worse comes worst, in case of any eventuality (like a divorce or Harry's public humiliation) he will have some sort of landing pad back in London. Not an actual royal home or a royal role, but family sympathy. I dont think on a personal level, Charles, Camilla or William have any more fucks to give about Harry and his Scar cosplay.

Looking at Joe Jonas and Sophie's drama makes me think that meghan would certainly encourage Harry to go to England spend more time there, and then she will play a blinder like Joe did on Sophie.

On your last point (the Joe/Sophie drama) - there used to be an accurate tarot reader here in the early days whose reading on a Sussex divorce saw it happening during the wintertime and one of them would be blindsided by the filing. Seeing your comment here reminded me of that reading. It really does seem like Meghan is trying to line it up for a blinder. After all, Meghan hasn't had an original idea since the 1990s. Why not steal Joe Jonas's divorce strategy?

This is just my opinion but I think the brand analysis actually happened. I've done some research and my conclusion is that it is standard industry procedure to do a brand analysis any time there's an acquisition, no matter what kind of track record the individual has. (Another reason why I think there was one, and this is just my personal observation, is because Meghan is such a polarizing and controversial person. WME wouldn't have taken her on willy-nilly without understanding what they were getting themselves into, even if they signed her as a favor to Serena, as the text messages going around allege.)

And absolutely, anything the BRF does with Harry is largely because of familial duty. You can still be sympathetic to someone's struggles and help them through it without having to personally like them. If there's one thing the royal family understands, it's duty and they probably all collectively understand that giving Harry a landing pad is their duty - not exclusively because they're family but because the monarchy calls for it. There are probably parallels to Diana here - Diana did a lot of damage when she said she wasn't supported or helped, and Charles can't afford the crisis Harry will cause if he doesn't show up for Harry. (They were able to handle the drama Meghan stirred up during the Oprah interview by having The Queen point out that Meghan is an unreliable narrator and the only reason The Queen's statement worked is because she had 69 years of authority and respect behind her words. Charles is lucky no one rolls their eyes in his presence when he demands the same gravitas.)

#ask

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randomvarious · 8 months ago

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Today's compilation:

Monsters of Rock 1998 Hair Metal / Hard Rock / Arena Rock /Heavy Metal / Pop-Metal

Good lord, this had to have been one of the most heavily advertised albums of all time, man. I don't know how much ad money the Razor & Tie label shelled out for all of their 'As Seen on TV' comps back in the day, but the commercials for Monsters of Rock and Monster Ballads were fucking inescapable throughout the late 90s and early 2000s, especially. Like, you'd be watching something on cable, and the commercial for this album would come on, so then you'd change the channel, and the same commercial would be playing on there too! And then you'd just force yourself to sit through it, and eventually, through repetition, the entire sequence of little song snippets that gets played throughout the ad would become a permanently etched medley inside of your goddamn mind, destined to haunt your soul for the rest of eternity:

🎶Cum on feel the noize, girls rock ya boys…my, my, my, I'm once bitten, twice shy, babe…poison!…*synths from Europe's "The Final Countdown"*…round and round, what comes around goes around, I'll tell you why…she's my cherry pie, cool drink of water, such a sweet surprise…we're not gonna take it, no! we ain't gonna take it…she's only seventeen, seventeen…here I go again on my own…I'm no fool, nobody's fool, nobody's fool…so hold on loosely…🎶

youtube

Now, the hair metal era may have been the dumbest and most ridiculous period of mainstream rock that we've ever borne witness to—and it's very difficult for me to think of another commercially successful subgenre in which rank stupidity has been such an inherently defining trait—but thanks to a combination of my own nostalgia for these damn Razor & Tie ads and my sometimes weird and ironic affinity for bad shit, after listening to this album, there is really nothing more that I want to do than hitch a ride back to 1990 so I can live out a super corny fantasy as a badass suburban high school senior who cruises through town in a boxy, red sedan with the windows down as these silly songs blare out of my speakers 😎.

But like I said, I am also under no illusion here; I'm fully cognizant of just how patently absurd so much of this music was. And when it comes to the pinnacle of pure trash, I really don't think anything ever quite managed to top Warrant's signature 1990 anthem, "Cherry Pie," which is obviously on this album. Like, have you heard or thought about this tune recently? It really might be the single-dumbest song that's ever been recorded in human history. And as the single-dumbest song that's ever been recorded in human history, it has thankfully and, I guess quite fittingly, been memorialized in some way, since…*checks notes*…you can currently go see the pizza box that its lyrics were originally transcribed on at the Hard Rock Cafe in Destin, Florida… 😭.

🎶I scream, you scream, we all scream for her Don't even try, 'cuz you can't ignore her!🎶

Also, Winger's "Seventeen." Yikes; you can probably guess what that one's about! Talk about songs that haven't aged well at all 😩:

🎶She's only seventeen (seventeen) Daddy says she's too young, but she's old enough for me🎶

Yeah… This one's catchy and all, but, um…no. 👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎 Really glad we've finally realized as a society that, at the very least, fully-grown adults singing lustily about minors is a very unacceptable thing to do. I mean, it took way too long for us to get here, but at least we've finally made it to this point, right? And I think "Cherry Pie" is probably about a minor too, by the way, but that's also up for debate 😑.

To be clear, though, not every song on this album is embarrassingly dumb and/or skeevy hair metal. I happen to think Living Colour's alt metal classic, "Cult of Personality," is a genuinely great banger. And I also dig the southern rock smoothness of a song like .38 Special's "Hold On Loosely" too; but most of the rest of these are just pure dunderheaded hair metal classics, and a key, overarching feature of this stuff was just how fucking maximally mindless it all was. It's hard to put a finger on what exactly allowed this madness to spread so widely and flourish for nearly a whole-ass decade in the first place, but thank goodness grunge came along when it did and dethroned this stuff from its perch as rock music's top subgenre in the early 90s, because, seriously, this shit was so excessive and outrageous.

All that being said though, and as good and necessary as grunge was back then, I can't help but imagine what a kick-ass time it would probably be to have almost any one of these Monsters of Rock songs come on at the bar while you and everyone else around you are in a highly intoxicated stupor; like, "Black Hole Sun," "Man in the Box," "Interstate Love Song," "Even Flow," etc., might be total jams in and of themselves, but songs like those are probably not gonna do the same trick as something like Alice Cooper's "Poison" can in that type of situation. I mean, when you're fully committed to annihilating some brain cells, it's good to have music that's way ahead of you in order to accompany your experience, right? 😅

Highlights:

Quiet Riot - "Cum On Feel the Noize" Great White - "Once Bitten Twice Shy" Alice Cooper - "Poison" Europe - "The Final Countdown" Ratt - "Round and Round" Warrant - "Cherry Pie" Whitesnake - "Here I Go Again" Winger - "Seventeen" Living Colour - "Cult of Personality" Twisted Sister - "We're Not Gonna Take It" Judas Priest - "You've Got Another Thing Coming" Cinderella - "Nobody's Fool" .38 Special - "Hold On Loosely" Autograph - "Turn Up the Radio"

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love-kurdt · 5 months ago

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Swooping, Sloping, Cursive Letters: 36

word count: 688

PLEASE READ THIS IS ME TRYING FIRST, AS THIS STORY RELIES HEAVILY UPON THE CONTEXT OF TIMT

September 29, 1990

Dear Will,

This past month and a half has been nothing but absolute chaos. First off, I finally had my official gay bar initiation! I was invited back in August by my friend Alexis and some of our other friends from our Gender Studies elective course, which was good, because at least I’d be around people I knew. They ordered me this neon blue cocktail I can’t remember the name of, probably because I chugged it so fast (just kidding, I think it was called a Blue Lagoon), and I was instantly picked up by the Prettiest of Pretty Boys™. He introduced himself as Wes Butler, and we had sex in the storage closet of the bar. It was actually my first time “topping” (I put topping in quotations because you can’t really top if you’re both standing). But it was cramped, it was hot in a bad way, it was messy, and it ended quicker than it began. It was not a good time. Moral of the story: I don’t do closets. I spent my whole life in one, and lost you in the process.

If you thought that experience was weird, let me tell you about this nerd rave I went to last Friday. Some acquaintance from one of my lit courses told me about it after class, saying it was at a beat up old house on the edge of campus, at five o’clock. When I showed up, it was like I’d entered the drama club room at Hawkins High. Dim lighting, red ambiance, and about a dozen different fantasy and sci-fi related activities happening throughout the house. I was so overwhelmed, and I had no idea where the hell to begin. Despite my love for writing fantasy, I’ve tried not to interact with anything remotely nerdy at the risk of it reminding me of you and sending me into a downward mental spiral. I’m scared that one day, if the spiral is spiraly enough, I won’t be able to come back from it. But anyway, this guy came up to me and said “Is it me or do you not have a clue what’s going on, either?” I turned to face him, and my eyes nearly fell out of my fucking skull, because I was either hallucinating, or Eddie Munson had come back from the dead. We immediately sparked a conversation about how we were just normal dudes who like literature and D&D, and felt incredibly out of place amongst all the cosplayers, almost like it was a convention. I don’t know how exactly we got from Point A to Point Z, but within half an hour of meeting Walker Brooks, he was fucking me into his Lord of the Rings bedsheets. Out of nowhere, he started talking to me in Elvish– I actually looked up and translated the phrase he used most frequently, “N- a man boui an ada.” It means, “Be a good boy for Daddy.” Yeah… yikes. I won't be seeing him again.

It’s no wonder why I keep going back to Wyatt. When we hook up, it’s like he erases all the other bad experiences. He’s so gentle with me, which is honestly what I crave the most. I just want affection. I just want love, while most of the other guys I’ve been with only want to get their dicks wet. But Wyatt is different– he cares about me. He’s my friend, above all else. And because he’s my friend, he offers to listen whenever I need to talk, no matter what. I think he knows my entire life story up until this point. Which means he knows about you and everything that happened last year. Don’t worry, he doesn’t hate you. He just… isn’t your biggest fan. It doesn’t matter what he thinks of you, though, because you’ll never have any reason to cross paths with each other. If, by some miracle, a reason does emerge, I won’t hesitate to introduce you two.

But it’s just pathetic for me to hope at all at this point. So I won’t. Hope, I mean.

Love,

Mike

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#byler #byler fanfic #byler fic #byler tumblr #mike wheeler #will byers #will x mike #mike x will #stranger things #stranger things fic

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michaelasworlds-blog · 5 days ago

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Daddy’s Girl (A Hazbin OC Fanfic)

~~~~~~

Ch.9: Him

~~~~~~

🚨TRIGGER WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SMUT, MENTIONS OF SA & ALCOHOL/DRUG ABUSE🚨

“What are you doing?” Zeke’s voice was heard through the phone.

“Uh..” Bean didn’t know what to say. How could she tell him that she was currently sitting on the tv demon’s bed, rubbing his back. “Nothin..”

“You’re with him aren’t you?”

“Maybe.” She said, Vox groaned, “Shh..” Bean continued rubbing.

“Bean, you were supposed to drop him off then leave,” He sighed.

“I know, but he kept turning on his back and I was worried that he’d choke on his own vomit and I didn’t wanna be responsible for-”

“Okay okay, I got it, just be careful” Zeke interrupted her. “Don’t bring up anything about the book.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” She rolled her eyes. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Uh..ok?”

“What is the worst thing you did when you were alive?” Bean asked.

It was silent for a moment then Zeke sighed, “Um..well, I was working with the wrong kind of people; I was like a spy in a way. I would get information from rivals and give it to the people I worked for, one day I was surrounded by the rivals and abducted, they abducted my brother. They wanted me to confirm if he was the spy, apparently the people I worked for told them it was him and not me.”

“And you confirmed, didn't you?” Bean asked sadly.

“Yeah,” Zeke responded. “They killed him right in front of me.”

“I’m sorry, that must’ve been awful,”

Bean sat in the dark feeling conflicted, that’s all she felt these days. Well, to be fair she was always confused, she wished she knew what was going on half the time. She laid next to Vox looking at her reflection in his dark screen.

What was she doing?

Who was she?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chicago,1990s

Ruby wasn’t used to possession, she hadn’t gotten far with the last two; she wanted to help them but it only drove them to insanity. She wanted to help her children, but they wouldn’t help her. Bean wanted to help her but it was hard, she wouldn’t let Ruby take full control.

Ruby knew why.

It was because of him.

Bean was petrified of him, Ruby found him disgusting. Ruby had suggested ignoring him but he retaliated by taking away food for Bean, which in turn was food that Ruby wasn’t getting. If her child wasn’t healthy, she couldn’t be either. Ruby couldn’t return to full power if Bean wasn’t eating..So they resorted to eating while he wasn’t around, which wasn’t often or doing things Bean’s way; which was eating raw meat. Ruby didn’t mind, until today.

He had come home unexpectedly, leaving Bean in a state of shock; this gave Ruby the chance to take over. She watched him walk into the kitchen and sit right next to her, Ruby could feel Bean’s heart start to race. She swallowed her fear down glaring at the man.

“How’s my Beanie Baby doin?” He caressed her face, giving her a sick grin. Ruby snatched away, still glaring into his eyes, the man laughed. “Ya know I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I like this new you,” he bit his lip. “Like that you started putting up a fight.”

She stayed silent. Not giving him the satisfaction of seeing you falter.

He frowned, “You shouldn’t be eating raw meat,” the man threw food she had in front of her, in the trash. “It’s not good for you,” he whispered in her ear before leaving.

Ruby stared at the trash can, feeling the anger rise in her chest, she dug her nails into the wooden table.

“Don’t worry..mother will deal with him..”

Present Day, Hell

“What are you doing here?” Ruby glared at him.

“Now now, I thought we were friends,” the man grinned. She could only see half his face, the other half was hidden in his hood, “After all you knew my daughter’s body more than I did.”

Ruby stood up, looking the man directly in the eye. She didn’t want to cause a scene in her own establishment, “Shall we talk in the back?”

He chuckled, “No.”

“What do you want, Stefan?” She whispered, almost forcing the name out of her mouth like vomit.

He stepped closer to her, “Where is she?”

“You’re gonna have to be more specific,” Ruby smirked.

“Sure I can start breaking everyone’s necks in here, starting with her,” he pointed at Trixie. “Is that specific enough for you?” He leaned into her.

Ruby looked at her children, she couldn’t risk their lives for one, it wouldn’t be fair. She’d be alone again, she didn’t want to be alone.. “I don’t know where Bean is, but I can get her to come here,” She lied. She just needed to stall until she thought of something.

Stefan started slowly backing her into the wall behind her, she could see the other half of his face; which looked nothing but static and a glowing red eye that Ruby couldn’t help but stare at,“If you’re lying to me, I will burn this building down with everyone in it, do you understand what I’m saying?” She slowly nodded, “Good,” he grinned, before leaving.

Once he was gone Ruby let out a sigh of relief.

“Mother? Is everything okay?” One of her children asked. She nodded, she was so angry that she had no words for anyone.

“Tell Ty to start closing up,” She said before storming off. “I need to make a call.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Help..help me…please,” Bean heard a weak voice coming from down a dark hall. She slowly and quietly walked towards it.

Making it a dimly lit basement stairwell she stopped, hoping the voice wasn’t coming from there. “Is someone there?” Crap, Bean rolled her eyes.

She walked down the stairs, trying to stay away from the blood prints on the walls. The door was opened ajar, Bean slid into the very cold basement. She turned on the light, jumping back against the wall at the sight in front of her. There was a blue creature in the middle of the floor, with one leg and had stab wounds all over its body. It reached out to Bean with its bloody hand, “Help..” it was throwing up blood.

Bean walked towards it, “Who did this?”

“Please, it hurts,” it cried.

Bean picked it up, putting it on her back before exiting the basement, however the house had changed. Instead of a cold dreary old house, it was a cozy house; like one of those houses she had seen in a Christmas catalog. It was warm and quiet, it was even snowing outside. Bean walked into the living room to see a light skinned girl with curly hair sitting on the couch, she was covered in dirt, staring at static on the tv

“Excuse me?” Bean tapped the girl. She turned her head towards her looking annoyed.

“If you’re looking for him he isn’t done yet,” the girl snapped at Bean.

“I just need a phone, this person is hurt-” Bean realized the creature was no longer there. “What?”

The girl stood up, “He’s my dad too! It’s not fair! Why do you get all the nice stuff and I don’t!” She screamed.

Bean backed away in shock, “What do you-” she threw up a yellow liquid, she covered her mouth; but the closer the girl got the more liquid came out. She ran upstairs as the girl kept shouting.

Now she was in a long seemingly endless hallway. She was panting, she stopped to breathe. However Bean couldn’t rest for long, a monstrous screech came from where she had come from. “Hello?!” She started banging on doors. “Please help! There’s something after me!” She cried.

🚨TRIGGER WARNING: THIS PART CONTAINS SOUNDS OF SA🚨 (skip bold font if uncomfortable)

“For fuck sake Gee! I said let me finish!” A familiar voice came from one of the doors. Bean stopped frozen in fear. There were grunts and moans coming from it, “I love you so much Beanie, fuck you’re so beautiful,” the voice continued. There were small whimpering noises coming from the room.

Bean stared at the door, she wanted to stop listening, to keep running, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t move. The longer she stayed the louder the noises became, the more noises she heard.

She noticed a sign on the door, it was written in terrible but familiar handwriting,

“DO NOT ENTER! THIS IS A ROCKER ZONE!”

“This is..mine,” she took the sign, finally backing away from the door.

Bean bumped into something making her turn around. It was her, but with yellow liquid coming from her eyes and mouth.

Before Bean could scream she threw up yellow liquid.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bean woke up gagging. She looked around, she sighed in relief remembering she was in V-Tower, in Vox’s bedroom? It looked like he worked in here too, there were multiple tvs on the ceilings and a desk that went around the room filled with papers. She looked down also realizing she was in the same dress from last night.

Vox wasn’t in bed. Maybe he was in the bathroom? Wherever it was in here. Or the closet? There was no one in the closet. Maybe the bathroom, since she could hear humming coming from it.

There was a light knock at the door, “Um sir?” A voice came from the other side. “Zestial wants to know if you’ll be advertising his herb brand, at least that’s what I think it says..I’m not very good at old English-“ Bean opened the door, startling the assistant.

“Hi!” She smiled.

He jumped back, “Um hi, is Mr. Vox-”

“Is that for him?” She took the stack of papers, “Wow these are heavy, you carried these by yourself?” Bean was amazed.

“Yeah actually, I like to get my daily walk in so I usually take the stairs,” he smiled, flattered.

“Well don’t work too hard, I can give these to him if you want,” She offered. “I’m Bean, what’s your name?”

“Well Mr. Vox told me my name was Papermint so..”

“What was your name when you were alive?”

“Colin.”

“Hi Colin, I’m Beatrice,” she waved.

“But didn’t you say your name was-” before he could finish there was a loud thud from the bathroom.

The sinners rushed inside seeing Vox on the floor, a low battery sign flashed on his screen. They looked at each other then back at the overlord.

“There wouldn’t happen to be a charger in here right?” Bean asked Colin, hoping she wouldn’t have to drag this 7 foot tall man down a flight of stairs.

He shook his head, Bean groaned.

After 45 minutes of dragging Vox down the hall to the elevator and trying to get the password for the elevator, they finally got him to his charging port in the tv room.

“How do you plug this shit in?” Bean struggled to plug the charger into Vox, he fell over on the sofa. She looked at his ass then back at the charger smirking, getting dirty ideas.

Colin pushed him back in the upright position, “It doesn’t go there,” he took the charger from her, sticking it in the back of Vox’s head. His screen started loading, “Well I’m going now, don’t touch anything.” He left her alone.

“Ugh!” She was already bored. What the hell was she supposed to do?

Bean did the exact opposite of everything she was told, tapping the shark tank, to turning on and off cameras. “I am very confused on why this camera is right outside Voe’s bedroom,” she turned the camera off. “Oops.” She turned to Vox who was on 95%. She went over to him, sitting on his lap. Bean tapped his screen. “You’re not nice,” she poked his chest then kissed the side of his face before leaning against him, “What’s wrong with me?”

At that moment Vox woke up, he looked down in annoyance, “Why are you sitting on me?” Bean yelped startled. She fell onto the floor.

“Ow..” she stood up rubbing her back. “I was trying to see if you were awake.”

“Uh huh sure,” Vox pulled the charger out. “Is that why you were sleeping in my bed?” He crossed his arms.

“YOU asked ME to stay with you,” Bean put her hands on her hips. “You would not let go of me! then threatened to kill the limo driver!”

“I don’t remember that,” Vox waved her off.

“Yeah, you were drunk.”

“Whatever.”

Bean stared at him, it was obvious she was only annoying him. She sighed, “Fine, I’ll go.” She put her shoes on.

Vox groaned, “Wait, come back.” He pulled her back onto his lap, Bean had her arms crossed not looking at him. “Thank you, I appreciate you making sure I was okay,” She smiled at him. He blushed, rolling his eyes, “It wasn’t that big a deal, but thanks.”

“I appreciate you being nice, even if you were intoxicated,” she giggled.

He chuckled, embarrassed. Vox didn’t want anyone to see him like that, especially not Alastor or Voe..or Bean. “What did such a sweet doll like yourself do to end up down here?”

Bean leaned into him, seeing her reflection on his screen, “I killed my stepdad.”

“Interesting..” Vox was intrigued. “I guess that explains the strange behavior I’ve seen in the cameras.”

“Strange?” Bean tilted her head.

“Yeah,” He grinned. “The night after the nightmare wedding my cameras caught you ripping different sinners to shreds..all night.” Vox was excited just thinking about it, he had to admit it was hot.

Bean's eyes widened, “Are they okay?”

“Who cares?” Vox scoffed. “Val was super psyched, you got every sinner on his list; the bastard got over 1,200 souls back.”

Bean looked down, she had literally helped an abuser get his victims back. Is that why Angel went back? Was she really that scary? “I’m a failure..” she mumbled. “I don’t deserve redemption.”

“The princess got into your head didn’t she?” Vox rolled his eyes. “Redemption is a load of crap, I bet you those guys you killed probably ate babies in their lifetime! So if anything they deserved it! Not to be in heaven.”

“Do you think I deserve to go to heaven?” She looked at him shyly.

Vox pulled her closer to him, his hands resting on her waist, “My dear, you are heaven,” he winked at her.

She blushed, laughing, “Boo!”

“What? You don’t believe me?” He raised an eyebrow.

“ I don’t actually,” she smirked. “Which is ironic considering your motto is about ‘trust’.”

He laughed, his hand slowly moving from her waist to her hair, “Your hair, it’s long.” He looked at it.

She blushed even harder, the warmth from her cheeks were spreading to her entire body, “Yeah..I need to cut it.”

“Don’t,” Vox leaned forward. “I like it,” before Bean responded he kissed her, his hand still in her hair.

🚨TRIGGER WARNING: THIS PART CONTAINS SMUT🚨 (skip bold font if uncomfortable)

Bean kissed him back moaning into his mouth, she ripped his tie off tossing it aside deepening the kiss. He moved from her mouth to her neck, biting it, this only made the warmth in her body even hotter, “Vox..” She moaned, feeling the bulge in his pants graze her clit. She slowly started to grind into his crotch, her panties getting more and more soaked. Vox moaned, at one point biting into her neck, Bean screamed, “Fuck!”

“Did daddy hurt you?” He smirked, kissing the bite mark.

“Shut up,” she laughed, moaning as Vox slowly unzipped her dress. Bean pushed the dress down before Vox to kiss her cleavage, getting closer and closer to her nipple. One hand on her boob while he licked and played with her nipple through her bra.

Her tail wrapped around Vox’s leg, “Vox..fuck..” Bean could feel herself leaking through her panties as Vox pulled her closer to his boner, at this point they were grinding into each other. Her moans started becoming louder and louder the faster more they grinded.

Vox pulled one part of her bra down, licking her pierced nipple, Bean threw her head back, “Fuck Yes! Right there! Stay right there!” She was so close she could practically explode. When suddenly..

Vox’s phone rang, he pushed her off of him taking the call, “What? An overlord meeting? When?” He was listening while buttoning his shirt. Bean sat there covered in sweat and other fluids, feeling kind of silly. “You should go, I have a conference meeting in 5.”

“But it’s only 1,” Bean pouted.

“Minutes.”

“Oh, okay,” She pulled up her bra and dress disappointed before leaving.

Bean walked down the hallway feeling ashamed, even though there was no one there; she felt as though she had been some homewrecker who got shooed away because the wife was coming home.

“Boo.” She said sadly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eugenia took a deep breath before entering Donnie’s gallery, she was ready to face him. Ready to..honestly she didn’t know what she’d do. She stepped inside, the building was empty, there were no visitors. No workers.

Was Donnie even here?

She heard a loud crash coming from the back, Eugenia made her way over there cautiously.

“I knew it!” She heard a woman scream, she peeked through the door seeing Donnie and Ruby, she looked pissed. “I knew I couldn’t count on an idiot like you! And I chose to anyway!”

“Now Ruby, I don’t see what’s wrong with getting something from my daughter, you did,” he crossed his arms.

“You came to me because you wanted to protect your daughter, you wanted to see her again! You said that!” She raged on. “We made a deal back when she was alive! You just wanted to use her to play dick wars with the other overlords!”

“Now listen-”

“SHUT UP!” Ruby ripped the mask off of Donnie’s face. “You are useless!” She pushed him into a chair. All he could do was stare up in silence. “Because of you that man- your bff is comfortable enough to look down on me. ME!” Ruby slapped him with his mask. “Because of you! My child is in danger!”

Eugenia cringed hearing that. Her child was in danger, not this deranged woman.

Ruby cleared her throat, “I think it’d be better for you to spend some time in some silence,” Donnie’s eyes widened as she ripped the mask in half. “Take some time to listen to others.”

Eugenia backed up from the door bumping into someone, it was Alastor. “Funny, this doesn’t look like the Hell Mart,” he said sarcastically.

“I was just-”

“I don’t care,” he grabbed her arm before shadowing them both away.

They appeared in his radio station, “And what were you doing there?”

“I wanted to talk to him,” She shrugged.

“He seemed a bit preoccupied at the moment my dear, hope you weren’t going to ask for shared custody,” Alastor leaned on his cane.

“I need to protect my daughter-”

“If I recall correctly you wanted me to protect her,” he interrupted her.

“I know but-”

“And in return you do what I say.”

“I know! I just..I’m her mom, I want her to understand that I made mistakes but I did them for her,” she looked at the floor. If she could explain everything to Bean she’d understand.

The radio demon narrowed his eyes, “What are you saying?”

“I want to tell her, I know now that Donnie isn't the threat I thought he was, it’s..it’s my husband that’s the problem,” she sighed, then noticed Alastor looking at her still smiling, but his eyes looked at her like she was an idiot, “What?”

“It took you until you died and went to hell to realize that your husband was the issue? Is that what you’re going to tell her?”

“No- I don’t know, okay! My daughter is a very understanding person, I tell her things and she’ll listen.”

“Wow,” He slow clapped, “Mother of the year.”

She rolled her eyes, “Anyway I need to talk to Donnie, but he can’t talk at the moment.”

“Leave that to me my dear, and get back to work, will you, the residents want to see a friendly face when they come to the hotel, make sure to show off those beautiful pearly whites,” he gestured to his smile.

Eugenia rolled her eyes leaving the radio station, “I’m goin on break.”

After an hour break she went down to the front desk, “Where the hell were you?” Husk asked.

“On break,” Eugenia sat down.

“Break?! Who told you to- forget it I don’t care,” he went back to cleaning his bottles.

Eugenia took out a magazine and began reading it, “100 ways to tell a woman a bedtime story..hmm-”

“What are you doing?!” Someone yelled, making her drop her magazine. It was Voe, standing in front of her laughing.

“I’m working,” Eugenia picked up her magazine.

“Ah yes, reading ‘Sinful Stylez’ is definitely working,” Voe eyed the magazine. Eugenia quickly put it away. “Ya know I was actually on the cover a few months ago, don’t know if you saw that issue.”

She shook her head, “Sorry no..”

“Hm, anyway let’s talk!” The doe leaned on the desk.

“O..kay, what do you need?”

“You said you were a mom right?”

“I still consider myself one,” Eugenia thought of Bean. She honestly couldn’t wait to tell her that her mother was here and that she was sorry.

“Well, when you were alive, what was it like to be a mother,” Voe asked.

Eugenia had been asked that a lot when she was alive, she always told people “Raising girls were easy, at least until they become teens.” She could tell Voe probably didn’t want to hear that, she cleared her throat, “Well it’s scary, I guess you just never know what’s gonna happen with them; anything can happen but as long as you take care of them and love them you’ll always know what they need.”

“Hm, well shit I was just looking for if it’s easy or hard” Voe responded. “I got a ‘You basically give your soul to your children’.”

Eugenia laughed, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be, I asked. What about child birth is that-”

“Oh absolutely horrible! They say it gets easier the second time, it’s a fucking lie!” Eugenia said, making her laugh. She will never forget when she had Bean, She was fat for a baby so Eugenia was in a whole lot of pain, but having her was worth it

“I like you Gigi, you’re nice to talk to,” Voe smiled at her. Eugenia smiled back, thinking about also telling Voe the truth..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“And then she goes, you can be my first patient or whatever!” Angel says angrily. “What does that even mean?!” He drank from a bottle of liquor he was sharing with Cherri and Bean.

Cherri laughed, “Looks like Voe traded up!”

The three sinners were laying on the floor in the living room, they thought it’d be cool to not use the couch; well Cherri and Bean did. Not Angel though, he laid on the couch behind them.

“I’ve been doin drugs all my life! She was fine with it when we met, now she’s gone all..shit I don’t know Mother Teresa,” He laughed, drinking from the bottle.

“Don’t hog it!” Cherri took the bottle drumming from it.

“She thinks just because she’s married she knows everything now!” The spider rolls his eyes. He looks over at Bean who has been quiet, “What’s with you Latte? You wanna go to the shrink?”

The friends laughed, “No! I just never thought about it,” Bean drank from the bottle. “Therapy wasn’t a thing, though I did have a great aunt who killed her husband and married the family dog, she might’ve been a good test subject!” She drank from the bottle.

“Speakin of husbands, I heard you and Vox were playin house last night y’all left Club 666,” Angel smirked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Bean blushed, “No no no! It wasn’t like that,” Angel and Cherri looked at her, not convinced. “Like nothing happened- well, not that night but in the morning- it wasn’t- I was just trying to help!” She couldn’t bring herself to talk about the embarrassing moment, he had texted her “hi” to which she responded but that was it.

“Holy shit!” Cherri gasped, “Did you guys fuck?!”

“No, we almost did but- ugh,” Bean covered her burning red face. “He had a meeting and told me to leave.”

“Awe shit,” Cherri rubbed her back. “I’m sorry babes.”

“Did you at least get ANY dick action?” Angel asked.

“I mean, we were dry humping,” She said in a small voice.

“Did it feel how Voe described?” He sat up, curious.

Bean’s embarrassment faded and was replaced by shock, “What? Why would Voe know what Vox’s dick feels like?”

Angel looked at Cherri, regretting asking the question. Well it was too late now, “Voe had an orgy with the Vees, according to them it was the hottest time they ever had in bed.”

“Oh.” Bean looked into space, trying not to let whatever feeling consume her. Was it anger? Hate? Betrayal? Sadness? Envy? She took a deep breath “Well that’s fine,” she gave them a fake smile.

“Ugh, men are the worst,” Angel crossed his arms.

“They most certainly fuckin are,” Cherri glared at the thought of testosterone. “Glad I don’t date anymore.” She looked over at a silent Bean, her head was down and she was staring at her phone. The one eyed sinner snatched, “Ya know what we should do?”

“What the fuck?!” Bean tried reaching for her phone, but was pushed back by Cherri.

“We should go out! Get fucked and fucked up!”

“Eh..I can’t I got plans, promised Husk a rematch at blackjack,” Angel declined.

“Boo!” His friend punched his arm. “That’s fine, we don’t need a man to have fun, right Bean?” Cherri grinned at her.

“Give my phone back,” Bean held her hand out.

“Only if you say yes to the best night of your life!”

Bean sighed, she was really doing this. It’s not like she had anything to do, and she did want something to take her mind off Vox.

“What time should I be ready?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alastor hummed a tune, walking through “Cannibal Town”, he waved to a few cannibals on the street, giving them a friendly smile. With everything going on with Bean, it took his mind off Vera for a while. He didn’t know what was going on with her, he didn’t want to assume the worst. Which was her getting bored with him and deciding to go off with the king of Hell, the thought of it made him go haywire, sometimes he couldn’t get over the fact that Voe had fucked Vox.

He sighed, finally making it to “Rosie’s Emporium.” Alastor fixed himself before going inside, as usual there was a line out the door and as usual Alastor went right in. He walked forward when he almost tripped over something, the Radio Demon looked down to see a small cannibal child looking up at him, she looked to be about 4 or 5, “Daddy?” She circled him. The children in Cannibal Town were always playing around but not inside, they were outside; where was this young one’s parents?

The little girl reached up to him, Alastor picked her up, moving her to the side. “Careful my dear, you don’t want to get stepped on.” He chuckled to himself.

“Now I know I’m gettin a little old, but is the Alastor standin in front of me?” Rosie emerged from the crowd with her cheery smile.

“In the flesh,” he kissed her hand.

“Don’t you try and butter me up young man,” The overlord chuckled. “Come come! There’s someone I want you to meet, and before you ask, I heard her accent and immediately thought of you.”

Rosie guided Alastor to the tea room, sitting there was just the woman he was hoping to see. The woman that owned Bean’s soul, she looked much different than when they first met. She had gotten better clothes and didn’t look frail and skinny like before, the woman was curvier. “Alastor, this is Ruby, we met at the Cannibal Sweet Shop a few weeks ago.”

“We’ve actually met before,” Alastor looked at the woman, “I see you’ve regained your overlord status.”

“I did, thanks to my children, their mother can now provide for them,” Ruby smiled.

“Did I mention that she’s a mother figure to all?” Rosie smiled warmly. “I find it sweet.”

“Mama?!” The same little girl came running into the room. She ran up to Ruby. “Mama?”

“Annalise!” Rosie picked her up. “What have I told you about running back here?!”

Ruby stared up at the child, “How precious,” she smiled. Annalise smiled back.

“Where are her parents?” Alastor asked.

“They were murdered during the last extermination,” Rosie said sadly. “She keeps lookin for her parents hopin they’ll show up, sorry for the damp mood let me go sit her down somewhere with a snack, you guys get to chattin,” she left with Annalise. Ruby waved at her.

“Awe how sweet, How tragic,” Alastor leaned in his hand, being dramatic. “Now as much as I love my dear friend, I am a bit busy today so I’ll get to it, you have something that I need.”

Ruby raised an eyebrow, “Mo chagren?”

Translation: I’m sorry?

“You have something that belongs to a friend of mine,” he put his hand over half his face, to let Ruby know what he was talking about.

“Oo..no,” She responded.

“Come now, you can’t silence the man, he needs to express himself-”

“He disobeyed me! He had one job and he decided to make stupid decisions!” She said angrily before going off and ranting in a different language.

Alastor put up his hand to stop her, Ruby looked at him like he was out of his mind. “I know you’re upset sha but he needs it, I think not connecting with his child is punishment enough don’t you think?”

“Did Eugenia send you?” She raised an eyebrow.

“I won’t lie to you but yes, she wants to talk to Donnie about Bean, and can’t since you have his mask,” he honestly didn’t know why she didn’t come here herself, but he remembered Eugenia was a coward.

“She doesn’t deserve to be a mother, I’ve got the situation under control ,” she waved him off.

“Really? Do you know where she is now?” The radio demon leaned on the table. Ruby remained silent, rolling her eyes. “What kind of mother would you be if you allowed your child to get hurt because of petty squabble,” he looked her up and down.

“She’s not letting up,” Rosie came back holding Annalise.

“That’s fine, I could be going,” Ruby stood up.

“Okay love, travel safe,” Rosie smiled.

Ruby booped Annalise on the nose, “Adyeu.” She said before leaving.

Translation: Good bye.

“Such a sweet lady,” Rosie said. “Oh no! She left somethin.” There was something wrapped in cloth.

Alastor took it, opening it, it was Donnie’s mask sewn back together, “Hm,” he smirked. “I’ll return this to her.” He stands up to leave, thinking about Bean, how she doesn’t have anybody; at least Alastor had his mother when he was alive. There was no one she could go to for anything, they always seemed to steer her in the wrong direction.

“Rosie,” he turned around. “I need a favor from you.”

“Of course!” Rosie smiled.

“There’s someone I want you to meet.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We’ve all heard the saying “Misery loves company”, have you ever heard of “A Partygoer loves a Playmate”?

No?

Neither had Bean until tonight, Cherri had shown her around to clubs that she didn’t know existed, each one was sicker than the last; it was even better since they were drunk and had taken at least 4 pills each and a 5th one for good luck.

They were at “Consent” dancing and laughing their asses off.

“Is it bad that I can’t feel my face?!” Bean screamed over the music.

“Your face should be falling off!” Cherri yelled, laughing. “Isn’t this better than sulkin into your phone?!”

“Fuck yeah!” She danced, accidentally dropping the drink in her hand. “Oh shit! I’m so sorry!”

“That’s alright babe, no need to cry over spilled milk, I’ll get you another one,” Cherri said before walking to the bar.

Bean watched her friend disappear into the crowd, she started twirling in circles feeling the music. She felt light as a feather, like she could fly without wings if she wanted to. For a moment she stopped dancing, looking at her phone, there were some texts from Angel, Voe, and Charlie; all of them basically saying to make good choices. There were none from Vox, only the “Hi” from earlier, she began to feel that empty feeling again; then all of a sudden she didn’t feel much like partying.

The music started to feel like it was playing through a tunnel, and everyone moved in slow motion. Where was Cherri? Bean tried looking through the crowd, but stopped when she had the most painful headache. She looked up, noticing a man standing in the crowd, he wasn’t dancing or drinking with the others; he was just standing there, staring at her. His aura felt familiar, it paralyzed her, made her feel hopeless and afraid. The more she looked at the hooded sinner she realized why he felt so familiar.. Bean was unable to breathe.

“You-” before Bean could even try to make words, she was grabbed by someone making her jump back. She turned seeing Cherri Bomb.

“Whoa! What’s wrong?” She asked a frightened Bean. She hugged Cherri crying and hyperventilating, Cherri held her, “Did someone do something to you?” She was ready to clock anyone who wanted to mess with her friend. However, Bean said nothing, she kept trying to breathe and wouldn’t stop sobbing and shaking. “Let’s get you out of here.”

The duo left the club and sat on a bench outside, Bean was finally able to breathe, “Sorry,” she finally said. “I thought I saw someone I used to know.”

“Don’t be, I know how that is,” Cherri smiled sadly. “When I broke up with my ex I couldn’t sleep for two months, still can’t sometimes. He used to scare the crap out of me.”

“He won’t leave me alone,” Bean held her head, it felt like it would explode at any moment.

“Who?”

She was silent for a moment, finding it too hard to even say the words, “My mom wouldn't stop him..I was alone.” Bean could feel herself slip out of consciousness but was shaken awake.

“Hey!” Cherri shook her. “Wake up! I can’t carry you!”

“Okay, let’s go home,” Bean stood up but immediately fell on the ground. “Ow..”

“Shit,” Cherri looked at the demon before taking her by the arms and dragging her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thank you, so much,” Eugenia took the mask from Alastor. “She sewed it.”

Alastor shrugged, “Probably because she felt guilty or she wants Bean to be happy.”

“I do make her happy, I’M her mother!” She said loudly. “Ruby is a parasite that sticks to people because she can’t live with the reality that she can’t ACTUALLY be a mother.” She was tired of hearing how Ruby was her mother, that woman did not raise Bean, she did!

Eugenia realized that Alastor was staring past her at something, “What?”

“You have an audience member,” his grin widened. She turned around and froze seeing a shocked and drunk looking Bean leaning against the kitchen wall.

“You’re my what?”

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scarsbloodandleather · 2 years ago

Text

had this in the drafts for a LONGGG ASS TIME:,,,

i just stayed up all night thinking about trans dean!!! (hbo dean) and wrote an approximate 5 page essay of my thoughts!!! (written by a transmasc)

(just on how dean is trans while keeping majority of the plot is the same, but also better than canon..)

Starting at the beginning. born Deanna. Dean always wanted to present more masculine. as a little kid always wanted to play with the boys stuff and dress in daddys clothes not mommys. in the first scene of him holding baby Sammy, it’s very much possible that he could still look pretty much the same considering the popularity of bowlcuts in young kids especially amongst little girls at that time. After Marys death, john never knew how to shop for girls clothing, so Dean just got the most basic looking clothes, already making him slide into that masculine nature. He probably grew out his hair after Mary died for a while (because of johns inability to take care of his kids and give them regular haircuts), until lets say 6?? when Dean figured out how to use scissors on his hair. John is unfazed, like as long as it doesn’t get in the way, and monsters cant grab deans hair(idk, things like that)

Bobby is the first to figure out Dean is trans. obviously. he pays more attention to the kids than john does. Dean just acts like a boy, thinks he’s a boy, though still being technically a girl. He’s complained before to Bobby about wanting to be a boy and hates being seen as/called a “dyke” or a “tomboy” by classmates and teachers. Dean doesnt think anything is wrong with expressing those emotions, still being just a young kid.

Around 8?9? Dean end up just straight up telling john he thinks he’s actually a boy and john couldnt care less tbh, trans men were nearly invisible to society at that time, especially to someone like john who probably grew up under a rock about those things more than anyone. John probably just somehow believed what dean said.. but in a twisted fucked up way… In Johns head Dean is now “a boy with feminine parts, and that is not right, you cant be a man and feminine.” (something like that) So John double time forces hyper masculinity upon dean much too early, as a compensation for anything possibly non-masculine about dean. Trans men are not a concept in johns mind and he doesnt care at all what it could mean other than Dean just being fucked up. This ideology weighs heavily into Dean’s trauma and daddy issues. Especially when john has angry drunk outbursts of ridiculing Dean for the way he is, doing things like deadnaming and misgendering Dean on purpose.

John obviously didnt know or care about anything gender confirming beyond, “I have a son, I buy boy clothes, it’s easier in so many ways having two sons now.” Bobby was the one who fully supported and understood dean and tried to do everything he could to understand deans situation and help him with the transition.

also. no one really knew of john as a hunter at the start. so its easy for john to switch to saying he has two sons, without causing problems.

Puberty for Dean would fall around 1990/91. By that time hormone blockers were already a thing available for kids who had puberty too early, [BUT amongst my research on hormone blockers for trans people I couldn’t find when That became a common practice, and when or where it became easy(ish) to get such treatment without being denied or hatecrimed in some way...] (will have to do more research on some subjects, I still have several books and articles I need to go through) However, I do know testosterone was actually an accessible thing around the 90s for trans men(ofc i still cant find what the age is for being aproved to start hrt unfortunately).

But, I believe, thanks to Bobby’s cunning schemes, he can get what Dean wants/needs in an easy way (ex; lying about Dean’s age or gender[saying he’s intersex or a male with a hormone deficiency], stollen medical prescription forms, etc)

So maybe, most of Deans life he is stealth to most, (even if he doesnt get testosterone until later in life, there are multiple accounts of trans men more than fooling a vast majority of people into thinking theyre cis, even when literally having sex with women believe it or not(ex; Brandon Teena/Boys Don’t Cry film, a popular 50s gospel singer i forgot the name of, much more) Dean is definitely super crafty in canon so he is always finding ways to pass.

Sam knowing Dean is trans makes sense(even if he doesnt have a word for it at first) considering how close they are as siblings. And I think funnily enough he might not even know Dean is “trans” until he attends a gsa class in college(bonus: Sam is he/she/they nonbinary in my hc and they find out that too)

[Side note, because of genes*, it’s very possible for an afab in the winchester family to be up to 5’10(lets say dean is 5’9 though). He wears those 1 1/2 inch heeled boots he does in canon (funny how he’s canonically trans coded sm), with shoe inserts on top of that and, boom. easily 5’11-6’0. yet, he is still more than four inches shorter than his younger brother.(idk i think sam should chill like maybe he can just be 6’2or3 in hbo, bc *john is still 6’1or2, and mary’s family also has tall men*)]

Moving on. According to the timeline dean discovering girls (and boys) happens next at 12/13 (pls help i’m on the aro spec and dk the normal age you get crushes)

but since we already know john is even more strict about Dean’s masculinity than he would be with someone whos amab (notice john canonically is less forcing of masculinity upon sam... i wonder why....) Well in saying that, here comes the intense homophobia. Dean cannot like men. “thats for girls. and Dean said hes actually a man, and I cant let dean be feminine in any way” or some bullshit like that.

Somewhere in the future, before Dean turns 17, john is “worried” about deans possible attraction to men. Sends him on the nun hunt by himself. It’s a big step especially for Dean being afab and john still seeing him as weak and feminine despite believing Dean is actually a dude. (I think this is also the same reason, canonically, sam is so surprised that at 26 dean is going on his own hunts??)

But like- so if the last time Sam saw Dean, Dean was 22 and still an irresponsible youth, still new to the freedom of things that came at 21 and what not(even if dean has been drinking from a young age) and considering johns treatment of Dean, and Deans dependency on johns toxic grasp on him, Sam could still be surprised dean is on his own now[even if dean went on his own at 17, but sam wouldnt know that,, and plus it was just so john could teach him a lesson] So maybe john also let Dean go on his own at 23(before then dean always went with another person) and because he would soon see Dean and his hunting partner of the time, Lee, getting along “too well” he would just fr gaslight dean to just go on his own from then... (something like that)

Focusing back on Dean’s transition, I actually have no idea when dean would get top surgery bc of the busyness of a hunters life. but im thinking it’s a top priority of Deans for a while because of the discomfort of not being able to wear a binder when hunting, only a sports bra, which depending, could still be very uncomfortable for him dysphoria wise. (i know the struggle) Again, Bobby probably one to help with the whole process of payment, recovery and scheduling a good time.

When dean finally gets his top surgery it is when he is with Cassie. (theyre literally both t4t bi4bi) Dean by luck finds a nice girl at a queer bar and settles down with her and decides its time to chop the flesh bags and Cassie helps him in his recovery. (of course i think dean still goes hunting in secret and messed up the healing process and ends up with sorta messed up scars)

Now lisa well... (actually I think canon dean dated her before cassie, but she was only introduced later so-) okay Lisa lowkey gives me transphobe vibes-.. I wonder if it could be that even after they hook up she still isnt even aware that dean is trans, she still finds out someway though. (rip ben actually being from a random biker in this au, bc canon he is 100% deans kid) When Dean sees her again, they run into eachother and catch up despite lisa still being transphobic. She’s fine with just talking but keeping distance. Ben, already liking dean like a father figure, doesn’t understand why lisa dislikes him, even after she explains how Dean is trans, like most kids at that age it’s simple, if he looks and acts like a boy, he is a boy. Kids dont fucking know a thing about body parts or genders... Ben with that ideology, ultimately opens Lisas eyes on trans people and is now okay with Dean.

The only next big plot point I can think of?? is..

Cas raising Dean from hell. While recreating Dean, he sees Deans entire being through Deans perspective. and how Dean is meant to be rather than how he was born. In my mind it makes sense to cas as angel, by seeing Dean’s soul, his memories, everything that makes Dean, well.. Dean, that he is indeed a man. Also because angels have no construct of gender(besides how humans are born) and being genderless in the first place, Cas doesnt associate body parts with genders. He just knows dean is a man and is like “well if hes a human man he must have these parts i guess?”, Deans views of himself blurring his previous form, everything on how dean looks is slightly masculinized. Cas doesnt even think about how come these scars on deans chest are significant and important to him, at any point in the future he could still easily remove them, but he knew they meant something to dean in his mortal development and despite being a “flaw” they are the two scars he didnt wipe clean off of Dean’s body. Everything else, its like- as if Dean was born a man, or at least, however Dean wanted to look. (and still, cas removes all of deans tattoos. dean is pissed asf at cas. even if they had significance to dean, cas still removed them as it was not a part of his body and soul like the top scars, just a foreign blemish made of ink)

That is all i should probably fit in a post now, lmao

#my post #hbo spn #hbo supernatural #hbo castiel #hbo dean winchester #hbo sam winchester #spn #supernatural #hbo spn castiel #hbo spn dean #hbo spn sam #dean winchester #trans dean #trans dean winchester #hbo spn trans dean #transmasc #trans #transmasc dean #transnatural

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mydaddywiki · 1 year ago

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David Huddleston

Physique: Heavyset Height: 5'11" (1.80 m)

David William Huddleston (September 17, 1930 – August 2, 2016) was a portly, often bespectacled American actor. An Emmy Award nominee, Huddleston had a prolific television career, and appeared in many films, including Rio Lobo, Blazing Saddles, Crime Busters, Santa Claus: The Movie, and The Big Lebowski. Big-framed character actor (and sometime leading man) has worked in virtually every film and television genre there is, from Westerns to crime dramas to science fiction. He was twice married with one child.

The Vinton, VA native might be best known for his roles in Blazing Saddles, The Big Lebowski, The Producers, and of course Santa Claus: The Movie. But it's a lesser role in the movie Zero to Sixty is where I best remember him. He wasn't naked or even shirtless, nor was it about his performance. It was his clothing, a tight ass track suit that showed every bump and curve of his body. And what a body. I just wanted to cut a hole in it and fuck him with the track suit on.

On television, Huddleston first caught my attention guest starring on the TV series Our House with my gun down guy at the time. THE daddybear himself, Wilford Brimley. He had numerous guest roles on TV dramas, but Walker, Texas Ranger was where he dropped my jaw. He had added quite a few more pounds to that frame of his that would make a chubby chaser proud. Since then I'd always akin him to Charles Durning as both were hot chubby daddies that I lust after til this day.

Although Huddleston slowed his career later in life and he has lost alot of weight. But like 99.9% of the guys I like, I'd still would've done him. Huddleston died at the age of 85 from advanced heart and kidney disease in 2016. I'd like to also remember him as the 'King of Bulge' because of his many bulge shots his movie appearances to frequent TV guest work across multiple eras. And that's a lot of wank material. R.I.P. Mr. Huddleston.

RECOMMENDATIONS: Billy Two Hats (1974) Hawaii Five-O (TV Series) - 'Love Thy Neighbor, Take His Wife' (1976) Gorp (1980) Santa Claus: The Movie (1985) The Wonder Years (TV Series 1990–1992) Postal (2007)

#David Huddleston #mydaddywiki actors

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what-if-queen-camilla · 1 year ago

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Chapter 17

Garter Day 1990

Windsor Castle

"Mummy, Mummy, can we please get some ice cream???", twelve-year-old Laura begged her mum, looking at her with puppy eyes. They were at Windsor Castle today, to watch the Garter Day procession, which both Charles and Andrew were going to participate in: Charles of course as one of the Royal Knights, and Andrew as Her Majesty The Queen's Silver Stick in Waiting. As usual, she hadn't been too happy about the prospect of this gathering, especially as not only the two fathers of her younger daughter were in attendance but more or less Charles, hence Thea's, too, entire family: his parents, his siblings, his grandmother, not to speak of his wife… but both men and especially Laura had been begging her so desperately that she'd finally given in. Hopefully nothing she was going to regret later… "Yes, of course, darling, there you go.", she said, handing a bit of money to Laura, who beamed like a Cheshire cat, gently took her little sister by her hand and ran off to the ice cream truck up by the middle wards. She had long considered whether it was wise to come today but it was Andrew's last time as Silver Stick in Waiting to Her Majesty The Queen; he had once more been promoted and would be taking on other responsibilities from next months and Laura and Thea had been begging her to go and see Daddy taking part in the procession so she had finally agreed. Andrew, too, was happy to have both his girls by his side on this very special day: thank goodness, he really loved Thea and she adored him. Charles had also painfully learnt to keep his distance, he had had to. He was still in their lives and they tried to see each other as often as possible but for Thea he was just Sir (whom she loved dearly, but different to how she loved Andrew) and the they were very careful never to give anything away in front of their little angel. When Thea was present, they were just friends. It wasn't even a lie because they really were friends, best friends even, but also deeply in love… but that was just between the two of them. "Do you want chocolate or vanilla?", Laura asked her little sister once they had lined up in the queue at the ice cream truck, but something else had caught little Theodora's attention and before Laura was able to realise it, the little girl had loosened herself from her hand and ran up the hill to the upper words. "Thea!!! Wait!!!", she screamed in panic, following her as fast as possible.

"Hello there, young lady!", a familiar voice said and little Theodora smiled as she recognised Michael, Sir's Protection Officer whom she had met several times. "What are you doing here all alone? Where's Mummy?", the man asked, bending down and taking her in his arms. His Royal Highness had never actually told him but, to him, just as to some other members of his closest and loyal staff, it was quite clear that "little Miss PB", as they referred to her, could only be the Prince's child so they all made sure to keep an eye on her and having an almost three-year-old running around alone on the grounds of Windsor Castle on Garter Day wasn't something he could ignore. Everyone in his closest circle knew how much of his rare freetime he spent with "his best friend" Mrs Parker Bowles and all of them had a feeling that this was definitely more than friendship though none of them would ever mention something, and the way he looked at the little girl, the way his whole face brightened up whenever he saw her, the way he cuddled and played with her, said it all and, somehow, they all felt sympathy for this little family that wasn't allowed to be one so, deliberately or not, they all tried to help and support as best and decently as possible. "Mummy down there!", Theodora told him, pointing to the area near St George's Chapel. "Laura - ice cream!" "Laura and you wanted to get some ice cream?", he asked, and the little girl nodded. "Where is Laura?", he went on, quickly screening the venue for "Miss Laura" and, indeed, spotted her a few metres away, obviously looking for her little sister in panic. "Miss Laura!", he called for her and the twelve-year-old looked at him, sighing in relief when she realised that he had found her little sister. "Hello Michael!", she greeted him, slightly out of breath after her involuntary run up the hill. "Thank goodness, there you are!", she exclaimed, hugging her little sister tightly, before her voice became a bit more stern and she admonished her: "Don't ever run away from me again! That's dangerous! You could have gotten lost! What should I've told Mummy?" Theodora, apparently rather shocked at her sister's strong tone, immediately started to cry. "Ohhh don't you cry, little Miss.", Michael comforted her, pulling a funny face in order to make her laugh but it didn't seem to work. "Alright, m'lady, what could we do to cheer you up again?", he asked and Theodora replied immediately: "Sir! Sir, Sir, Sir!" "Would you like to say hello to Sir?", Michael asked, also looking at Laura who nodded almost equally excited as Theodora. "Alright, then let's go and see if we can find him!", he said, prompting Laura to follow him. They walked past a few corners, up and down several stairs and finally found themselves in a huge corridor inside the Castle. “Wait here, I’ll go and see whether I can find His Royal Highness!”, Michael promised, turned around, and disappeared.

A few minutes had passed, when they heard heels clattering on the floor in the corridor next to them. “Oh Thea, that might be the Princess!”, Laura whispered to her little sister excitedly, and just a few seconds later, indeed, Diana, followed by a bunch of servants, appeared right in front of them. “Your Royal Highness!”, Laura greeted her starstruck, performing a deep curtesy, but the Princess didn’t reply but instead gave them a look that almost froze the blood in their veins. “What are these brats doing here?”, she asked disgustedly. Instinctively, Laura pressed Theodoras hand tighter and protectively stood before her little sister. “Who let his bastard in here? Get them out of my way, immediately!”, Diana hissed at her servants, derogatorily waving her hand, as if the two girls were some sort of vermin. Laura gulped heavily. She had always admired the Princess but that behaviour really wasn’t princessly at all. “Come, Thea, we’re going.”, she said and this time ,thank goodness, Thea followed her without asking or complaining further.

“Bastard.”, Thea repeated what the Princess had said, once they had made their way out of the castle and Laura gave her an admonishing glance. “Sush! That’s a very mean word, Thea, we’re not saying this.”, she explained to her little sister, but Thea was curious now. “What - mean?”, she asked and Laura sighed. She wasn’t entirely sure about it, of course she had heard it here and there and knew that it was a swear word, but she didn’t know the real meaning herself. “That doesn’t matter, little one.”, she said. “Just don’t ever say that. It’s a very nasty word that a Princess should not use.”

“Oh there you are, my darlings!”, Camilla sighed in relief when she finally saw her daughters coming down the hill again, rushed over to them and hugged them tightly. “Where have you been so long?”, she asked, concernedly looking from one to the other. "Michael!", Theodora explained excitedly, adding: "Castle!", which caused her mother to frown her forehead. "You met Michael?", she asked and Laura nodded. "Castle!", Thea repeated and Camilla looked at her in confusion. "You're saying you've been inside the Castle?" "Yes, Michael took us.", Laura said. "He wanted to try and find Sir so that we could say hello but… he couldn't find him." She didn't even know why but for some reason she had a feeling that it was best not to tell her mother about the other incident so she kept quiet about it.

When the procession began with all pomp and circumstances, Camilla and her daughters happily waved at everyone to everyone they knew, Anne, Charles, the Queen Mother, and of course Andrew. "Daddy, Daddy!", Thea cheered excitedly, when Andrew walked past them. Of course, being as professional as he was, he didn't wave back but cheekily winked at her. Anne gave them a heartfelt smile, as did The Queen, and Charles and the QueenMother, who walked side-by-side, joyfully waved at them which made little Thea beaming with happiness. "Sir, Sir, Sir!", she exclaimed and Charles' face lit up in delight immediately. As sweet and heartwarming their moment undoubtedly was, as relieved was Camilla that nobody had noticed the emotions between them, as this sort of glances and smiles was definitely more intimate and deeper than those which "normal" friends exchanged and she was still afraid that, some day, it was all going to collapse like a house of cards…

#queen camilla #king charles #royal family #royal baby #andrew parker bowles #princess anne #queen mother #fanfiction #fanfic

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dustedmagazine · 3 months ago

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Butthole Surfers — Hairway to Steven (Matador)

Photo by Pat Blashill

Hairway to Steven is a phrase well fitted to the contradictions intrinsic to the Butthole Surfers’ music in the late 1980s. It’s a goof, a jest, a mangled pun; it’s a joshing nod to the bloated metal and self-regarding prog rock of the mid-1970s, and a monstrous appropriation of that music’s grandiosity, distorting it into comical shapes that could amuse or horrify — or amuse and horrify. “Jimi,” “John E. Smoke,” “Backass”: all those songs from Hairway… seem engineered to articulate a joke and then to extend it, stretch it as far as it might go and then beyond that point, until the laughter turns into something else. Check out the falsetto voice in “Jimi,” around the 5:50 mark; it dissolves into maniacal laughter and then declares, “Crazy, crazy fucking world / Crazy goddamned world we live in.” Hard to know if you should chuckle or collapse into abject despair. If the song is really working on you, you’ll want to do both.

In Spring of 1988, the Butthole Surfers were poised to pull off a massively scaled and audacious joke. They were on the verge of becoming successful rock musicians. Soon they would sign to Rough Trade, and then with Capitol (say what?). They would be on the roster of the first Lollapalooza tour and turn into a sort of combination in-joke and fan fave on Beavis and Butt-head, cracking their way into the MTV universe, then the dominant force in the industry. When the band recorded Hairway…, they weren’t yet enjoying those relatively rarefied circumstances. The record would be released by Touch and Go, and their chaotic live shows in 1988 still had the capacity to fill audiences with fear for their lives (not just for their collective sanity). But things were already shifting. Hairway… was recorded in a professional studio, working through songs that the Butts had already been playing frequently on tour. There was a variety of professional enterprise to the process, and it’s worth noting that the band would apply the same practices through the 1990s period of recording more conventional records for Capitol (see Independent Worm Saloon from 1993, and Electriclarryland from 1996, a gold record that produced “Pepper,” the Butts’ first top-40 single).

There’s a different sort of conventionality informing some tunes on Hairway…, like “I Saw an X-ray of a Girl Passing Gas” or “Julio Inglesias.” They’re gag songs, lowbrow buffoonery befitting the sensibility that had always been invoked by the band’s name and by earlier songs, like “Lady Sniff” or “Kuntz.” The klass-klown weirdness of the band’s antic hilarity was further accentuated by the decision to provide no song titles Hairway…, just hastily scrawled (but somehow stylistically vivid) scatological cartoons: the drawing corresponding to “I Saw an X-ray of a Girl Passing Gas” features two female forms, nude, backsides toward the viewer and bent at the waist, exposing genitals and anuses. Tasteless and stupid. A grade-schooler’s idea of outrageous. Right?

Sure, but there’s another way to hear it, particularly if you spin Hairway… back to its opening track. “Jimi” is a behemoth, an acid-drenched elaboration of the first song on the Butts’ previous record, Locust Abortion Technician (1987). Like “Sweat Loaf,” “Jimi” features a conversation between a father and a child. But while “Sweat Loaf” twists its father-son exchange into a variety of punchline (“And by the way, if you see your mom this weekend, would you be sure and tell her…SATAN!”), “Jimi” contorts things into more awful shapes: Daddy: “What do you know about reality? I am reality!” Kiddo: “Oh, Daddy, please don’t touch me on my bottom!” The music thunders and corkscrews, ruthless in its intensity. It’s a nightmare.

But as the Daddy in “Jimi” asserts, there is a link to an awful version of the real in the late 1980s. By 1988, the Satanic Panic was at its peak in the US, with its allegations of Satanic Ritual Abuse (SRA) and its fantastical claims of plagues of pedophilia and child murder. There’s no room here for a rehearsal of the Panic, its multiple court cases and the involvement of numerous agencies of law enforcement and psycho-therapeutic professional associations. Some 12,000 accusations of SRA were investigated, and Geraldo Rivera claimed on a 1987 national television broadcast that “there are over one million Satanists in [the United States and they are] linked in a highly organized, secretive network.” Satan had broken through. He was Reality.

In some ways, that history seems at least a little quaint. The Panic was debunked. The careless, corrupted methods of therapy, interviewing and diagnosis were mostly abandoned or deemed malpractice. But anxieties about SRA persist, and QAnon, the Pizzagate Truthers and other recent renditions of the Blood Libel have converted those anxieties into conspiracies with brain-boggling reach and power. That socio-political context, while a total bummer to live amid, makes Matador’s reissue of Hairway… a discomfitingly well-timed event. The myths upon which SRA is founded run deep in the American cultural imaginary (back to Salem, at least), and while listening to the record won’t solve any of the attendant problems, it is a surprisingly forceful experience. Sometimes it’s hard to tell where the joke ends and the danger begins. Spin the record. See if you can figure it out. Crazy, crazy fucking world.

Jonathan Shaw

#butthole surfers #hairway to steven #matador #jonathan shaw #albumreview #dusted magazine #rock #reissue

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motelpearl · 9 months ago

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I'm watching star trek voyager so I'm gonna put my thoughts below & keep adding onto it (yes I'm going from tng -> voy & skipping ds9 for now at least even though I feel like I'm missing out on context bc trekkies seem to hold ds9 as like the gold standard of star trek but I watched a couple episodes & I just couldnt dig it)

the relationship of kes & neelix is so bewildering to me like what does she see in him like hes not even a bad person but he's just a lot dumber than her & has that "where's my hug" type guy energy also he's like so old not even in a sugar daddy way just in a boomer way like doesn't kes's species only live 9 years

I hope tom paris goes through some character development because as of right now he's soooooo annoying like referring to chakotay as an "indian" all the time......ugh one would hope we wouldn't still be doing that in the 25th century also I knew from seeing online discourse that chakotay's writing is stereotypical in a well intentioned but still badly-aged way & it's not ruining the show for me but whenever he closes his eyes & the panflute music kicks in I just sigh deeply

the vidiians are fucking terrifying bruh its giving a cure for wellness

I HATE HISTORICAL REVISIONISM IM SORRY BUT IT WILL NEVER FEEL COMFORTABLE TO ME EVEN IF THEYRE DEAD. NOT THE MARK TWAIN RPF IN TNG NOT THE AMELIA EARHART RPF HERE IT JUST AINT RIGHT

OKAY MAYBE I WAS WRONG WHEN I SAID NEELIX ISNT W BAD GUY BC WHAT DO YOU MEAN KES IS A PREPUBESCENT 2 YEAR OLD

not the voyager defeating an alien by becoming submissive & breedable (of course the voyager has a blue plasma trail & pronouns....)

JANEWAY WANTS CHAKOTAYS DICK SO BAD PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER GIRL WHERES YOUR DECORUM

tuvoks hairline is so fascinating to me

not belanna being lowkey in love with chakotay too & then them showing his bare ass in the next episode....rick berman was on this man like a fat kid on a smartie

FUCK THE KAZON UGLYASS BEASTS

seska needs to be in jail bruh

I SWEAR TO GOD IVE WATCHED ENOUGH STAR TREK THAT I CAN TELL JUST BY THE CAMERA ANGLES WHEN AN EPISODE IS DIRECTED BY JONATHAN FRAKES LIKE HE'S ALWAYS DOING WEIRD DUTCH ANGLE TRACKING SHOTS & STUFF LIKE THAT

so I heard that threshold is like the worst episode in the entirely of star trek & after watching it I honestly dont think it's that bad like sure it's an implausible premise but it's not as bad as like code of honor or sub rosa

NOT BEEF BEING A Q....TWO OF MY WEIRD NERDY INTERESTS ARE OVERLAPPING ALSO THE CAST LIST OF THIS EPISODE SCARES & EXCITES ME. FUCK Q SEXIST ASS MOTHERFUCKER FIRST HE CREEPS ON THAT TEENAGE Q THEN HE KILLS ALYSSA OGAWAS BABY NOW HE SAYS WOMEN CANT BE CAPTAINS & SEXUALLY HARRASSES JANEWAY. DIE.

I always wonder how they get the alien makeup on babies like in this episode with the baby with horns on its head & that one episode of tng where they showed baby borg. also the concept of teleporting a baby out of the womb for an easier delivery is hilarious

tuvok & neelix toxic yaoi?

bruh if this episode is setting up the possibility of suder just letting out his violent impulses one last time & going scorched earth on the kazon & the doctor helping him by means of holographic skulduggery & then tom paris showing up with a cavalry of fucking talaxians to lay the smack down I'm gonna laugh so hard

TOM PARIS FINALLY STARTING TO REDEEM HIMSELF

THE PORTRAYAL OF 1990S EARTH IS SO FUCKING FUNNY TUVOK WEARING A DURAG TO COVER HIS EARS PLEASEEEEE

time travel episodes stress me out so much though like PLEASEEE put the tricorder away. not belanna & chakotay getting kidnapped by hillbillies omg the shots where the guy kicks chakotay & then belanna kicks the guy were edited so weirdly

starling reminds me so much of elon musk

is the alien possessing kes bisexual?

too bad q got to die of old age instead of janeway giving him the electric chair

janeway gettin her lara croft on we love that

why cant vulcans just jack off during pon farr like I thought hand stuff was their whole thing

this isnt voyager specific but shuttlecrafts should really have seatbelts like the amount of times people randomly get injured because turbulence throws them out of their seats....WE SOLVED THIS ISSUE 500 YEARS AGO

not tuvok building the Doohickey

why are they leaving harry unattended on a borg cube WHY DOES STARFLEET NOT MANDATE THE BUDDY SYSTEM HES JUSTA LITTLE GUY & NOW HE'S GOING TO GET ASSIMILATED

WHAT THE JESUS IS THAT

awww bless kes I knew she would leave & I was worried she would die but I'm glad she left on a lighter note

"welcome to the worst day of my life" hi my name is belanna dark'ness dementia raven torres (yes I know losing the warp core is serious but that line was giving "we live in a society")

DID HARRY & SEVEN HAVE SEX. BRUH

eugh I wrote in my other star trek thread that borg assimilation is one thing that just gives me such deep discomfort like even though the borg gradually become sort of overdone the concept of assimilation becomes increasingly terrifying regardless like seven's backstory just creeps me out so much like the concept of her parents just being these sort of rebellious scientists who thought they were gonna make some great discovery out in the delta quadrant (sidenote I hope it gets explained more how exactly they got out there like did they go through a wormhole too?) & just stumbling upon these unimaginable horrors that they had no chance of fight & having to watch as their naivete & hubris destroyed their childs life & everyone they previously knew had no idea where they went or what happened to them EUGH ITS SO CHILLING

wait how did they get the warp core back was I not paying attention

tuvok getting his gilf certificate in the mail we love to see it

species 8472 are terrifying even though the CGI is so low-poly

okay this is a pretty pointless criticism but it annoys me how all the female characters wear heeled boots & on that note the grey turtleneck under the uniforms looks so ugly like post-s3 TNG had the best looking uniforms & this isnt coming from a biased place just bc tng is my favourite (also the movie era uniforms that were red & had random white straps were SO UGLYYYY & DUMB LIKE HOW CAN YOU TELL ANYONES RANK OR DEPARTMENT IF THEYRE ALL RED)

I hate the way the borg queens spine swings around like a cat's tail

opening the episode with harry kim getting his tiddies sucked....ON PRIMETIME TV? IN THE 90S?

I just know that anti-alien-sex law got put into place because of riker

since like late season 3 I'm finally starting to understand why trekkies say janeway has sexual tension with literally everyone

a vulcan shedding a single tear when hearing an artificial lifeform perform a piece of classical music? NOW WHERE HAVE I SEEN THAT BEFORE......*taps chin pensively*

tuvok & neelix detoxified yaoi?

BARCLAY & TROI YASSS

NEVERMIND NOT BARCLAY BACK ON HIS HOLODECK BULLSHIT

not the space Irish again (also from what I've seen irish people are apparently really offended by the irish reunification of 2024 meme <\\\3)

if janeway were alive in 2024 she'd be on tumblr making posts like "I need to get sent to the seaside for my health"

I didnt expect the episode "virtuoso" to suddenly take such a resonant turn but in the age of generative ai it's strangely prophetic

the double whammy of seeing jeffrey combs & the rock as the guest stars in this episode

I got injured the other day & have been pretty much bedbound because of it & whenever a scene takes place in sickbay I think "spare dermal regenerator 🤲"

they bring back kes just to give her makeup that makes her look like Christopher Walken <\\\3

ugh I love troi shes such a queen

why does the borg queen look like this -> 🥺

honestly I'm kinda sad that I'm on the final season

poor tuvok man first he almost gets assimilated, then he gets mind controlled, now hes just trying to fuck but he's thwarted by political tensions

I kind of want to rewatch st: picard since I know seven's backstory now & have the context of the borg's decline like I saw trekkies saying janeway "handled them" but now I know the exact circumstances

omg I know chakotay & seven somehow end up together (at least for a while) when the show ends bc I've had so much of voyager spoiled (tbh that seems to the usual reason i watch shows, I get a bunch of it spoiled & then I'm like "but how do those dots connect") anyway that literally makes no sense bc I can't think of a time theyve ever interacted since seven became a character but like chakotay & janeway were RIGHT THERE THEYVE HAD TENSION SINCE SEASON 1 IM NOT EVEN A SHIPPER CAUSE IDC THAT MUCH BUT IT WAS RIGHT THERE (& I read the wikipedia page for each episode after I watch them cause idk I like learning behind the scenes stuff & in the "reception" section of each page theres always something like "fans were disappointed that janeway & chakotay did not bang like screen doors in this episode") LIKE THE FANS WANTED IT IT WAS A LOGICAL COURSE OF ACTION IT WAS SET UP SINCE SEASON 1 & THE WRITERS CHICKENED OUT. WHY THOUGH?

noooo belanna dont do eugenics ur so sexy aha

POOR TUVOK BRUH SEASON 7 IS JUST A YEAR OF TUVOK SUFFERING

THE DOCTOR MAKING PHANTOM OF THE OPERA REFERENCES....DID HE JUST BECOME MY FAVOURITE CHARACTER (even though he pronounces "fantome" entirely wrong)

"she's suffering from dysphoria syndrome" janeway trans?

I know this show was made in the late 90s/early 2000s but nothing hammers that point home like seeing the same exact fishing rod toy I had as a kid in this episode that aired a month after I was conceived

just when I thought the Q couldnt get more annoying....one of them is a teenage boy

NOT SOME WRITERS BARELY DISGUISED FOOT FETISH SEEPING IN.....I COULD NEVER BE AN ACTRESS

one thing that has never stopped annoying me is the fact that we literally see naomi wildman be born onscreen & then she goes from newborn -> 9 year old over the course of like 2 seasons

okay I finished it & I'll need more time to collect my thoughts but the basic idea is: I liked the show but I feel like there was lots of possibilities that went unexplored but one thing I especially liked is that unlike TNG (which is still my favourite trek) the female characters got storylines that didnt just revolve around interpersonal stuff (ie. family/romance) but actually got to use their specific skills

but now I'm rewatching the first couple episodes of because I honestly had no idea what was going on (I didn't even realize the doctor was a hologram until like halfway through season 1 & I didn't realize tuvok was spying on the maquis until like season 3) & one thing I have noticed is that NEELIX WAS SO FUCKING UNHINGED IN THE FIRST EPISODE LIKE HE COMES OFF LIKE HEATH LEDGER AS THE JOKER IN THAT SCENE WHERE HE VIDEOCALLS VOYAGER & STRUTTING AROUND THE TRANSPORT ROOM IN HIS PIMP COAT & ALL THE WATER STUFF LIKE WHO IS THIS MAN also belanna's makeup was so bad I'm sorry <\\\3

#motelpearl #star trek

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schrijverr · 2 years ago

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A Behind the Scenes of: Pride 1990

Jonathan gives an inside look to the photos taken at Pride in 1990, walking viewers through the stories behind them.

On AO3.

Ships: Jargancy & Steddie

Warnings: Period typical homophobia and police brutality mentioned

~~~~~~~~~~

“Hi, uhm, I’m Jonathan Byers, you might know me from A Collection of Queer Photography, the book I recently released with my partner Nancy,” Jonathan starts out the video, sitting on a cozy chair in a light sleek backdrop, which can be recognized as the apartment he shared with Argyle and Nancy.

Jonathan looks to be a little unsure of how to act on camera, but he continues on: “There have been so many great reactions to the book, so I thought I’d tell a little about the stories behind some of the photographs and take a little look into the process that went into the book itself.”

“One part of the book that has gotten a lot of attention online is Pride of 1990, so I thought I would start there,” Jonathan introduces, shifting to the side so there is room on the screen next to him to show photographs.

Interview with a Leather Daddy appears on screen, it is of Nancy. She is at a march talking to a guy dressed in all leather. In her hand is a notepad, she is writing something down with a serious face as the Leather Daddy explains something, pointing to his leather harness as he talks.

“This photo is called Interview with a Leather Daddy,” Jonathan says, he has the book in his lap as a reference. “It is meant to be seen in relation to Prideful Connections as is here on the page as well.”

Prideful Connections appears underneath the first image, so they are side by side. It is again of Nancy with the Leather Daddy, in this one she has lowered the notepad and the two of them are laughing about something. It’s not a laugh that speaks of years of knowing each other, but of a connection with a stranger that is made in the moment.

“I really like capturing a moment in my photography, a true snippet of a person, instead of an image they try to present,” Jonathan explains. “And in here you can see the juxtaposition between Nancy as she showed the world, but also as who she truly is.”

Now that he is talking about his photography, Jonathan has loosened up a little and is more animated, as he goes on: “As you can see in Interview with a Leather Daddy she is there as someone at work. She is serious and diligent. A professional. This picture without context is Nancy as she is in her work life. A lot of people who aren’t part of the queer scene might think a leather daddy to be odd – it isn’t, for the record – but Nancy just does her job.”

He looks up from the image and back to the camera. “Nancy will always be a professional, but that isn’t what is happening here, which makes that other photograph so important. Because she isn’t just doing her job, that is what she is telling those who will look at the guy she is interviewing and brand him as wrong or weird. Nancy isn’t that kind of person.”

“As you can see here,” he points, “in Prideful Connections Nancy is also there as a member of the march, not just as the press on the sidelines. People who don’t know will see the first, those who do, see the second. Photos tell so much, but sometimes you need more to paint the entire picture.”

“Neither of these are a wrong depiction of her, but one is a little bit more Nancy than the other,” he says, a love-sick fond smile on his face. “She will get her story, trust me, but she isn’t always ruthless and cold when she does.”

There is a cut as Jonathan moves on to the next photograph. On the screen a young Eddie and Steve appear holding up a sign that says ‘WE WON’T BE MURDERED’. Steve is dressed in a polo and denim shorts, looking like he should be in a suburb instead of a pride march, were it not for his face contorted in a gleeful yell. Eddie next to him is also shouting. He is dressed similar to the Leather Daddy of before. He has only his leather jacket on and a black leather cap, as well as leather jeans with his handcuff belt. Chains hang around his wrists and neck.

“This photo is also from that day, it’s called We Won’t Be Murdered. Pretty self explanatory, I think,” Jonathan says.

“I like this photograph, because it puts respectability next to all that is seen as wrong,” Jonathan explains. “Steve, here on the left, is the perfect American boy in how he is. He used to be popular, prom king and basketball team captain. He kind of embodies that American ideal that people thought needed to be protected from the gays.”

“And Eddie is quite the opposite,” Jonathan smiles lopsidedly into the camera. “Those who have followed his career probably know how out there he is and how against the American ideal he is in everything he does.”

“Especially in this photo, he dressed up for Pride. He is deep in the leather and kink scene, has never been shy about it,” Jonathan says. “And Pride is the day to lay it on a little thick, back then that was a big thing. Being proud of who you are despite it being unconventional is kind of the point, because it’s not harming anyone. It’s okay.”

Jonathan takes a deep breath, looking at the photograph, then goes on: “So, they kind of form opposites in how they represent, but they hold the sign together. I think that comes across as really powerful. This joining of hands, this loving each other from seemingly other ends of the spectrum, because it is kind of what people are scared off.”

“People are scared of that ideal being corrupted, but that is not what is happening here,” Jonathan explains. “The American ideal looks happy and free, because the American ideal does not exist. It is also a person, just like the perceived threat is. They’re just two people, who love each other and want to be able to live.”

Visible appears on screen. It is of Argyle. He is holding one side of a banner, text cut off. He is in his usual odd agglomeration of clothes, smiling into the camera with a little wave. Because he is so tall, he sticks out above most people, the way it is staged, he looks like he is leading the crowd.

“This photograph, I named Visible,” Jonathan starts. “We put it next to We Won’t Be Murdered, because it kind of tells the story. It’s what we wanted to say and what we wanted to be. And it has a different energy too.”

He says: “Visible is that quiet determination and calmness. Argyle naturally sticks out in a crowd since he is so tall, which I used. He also has a mellow vibe around him, which works well here. His style and way of being definitely marked him as odd at the time. A hippy and hooligan. Even though he clearly wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Argyle here is the absurdity of being seen as a threat,” Jonathan tells the camera. “He is just so sweet and enjoying himself, but the fact that he is part of this crowd, it is perceived as leading an army.”

“Beyond the symbolism, it is also just a very Argyle photo,” at that Jonathan smiles a similar smile to the one he had when talking about Nancy.

Jonathan sobers up slightly as he moves onto the last photograph, that replaces Visible on the screen.

Picking a Fight is of Nancy and Eddie taken from behind, both are running towards a police car. Bend over the car, the person is hard to make out, however, the legs are wearing the same denim shorts that Steve was moments before.

“Uhm, this photograph is also part of the story, sadly,” Jonathan clears his throat. “We chose to put it on this page to stand opposite of the civil interview and peaceful, happy crowd in the other photographs. I’m not going to sit here and say every Pride march was a peaceful happening, but we never put people in true danger. We didn’t want to kill anyone or put them in the hospital.”

“I’m going to be talking about police violence right now, so if you are triggered by that, feel free to stop watching now,” he says with a small, gentle smile.

He is quiet for a second to give people time to click away, before he starts again: “So this is called Picking a Fight. Steve is getting arrested here for disturbing the peace. Nancy and Eddie will soon be arrested for resisting arrest and assaulting an officer. Steve also got charged with that because of their failed rescue.”

“I called it Picking a Fight, because two camps are picking a fight here,” Jonathan explains. “The police are arresting people for being part of the crowd. They were rounding up topless women for public indecency, which is when Steve stepped in and got arrested for being on their side. Then you also have Eddie and Nancy, who are about to start an argument with the police because of the arrest of Steve.”

“This photograph isn’t really telling a hidden story, just an obvious one that keeps repeating,” Jonathan says a moroseness hanging about him. “It’s police, who will pick the side of the government and harass those who are branded as other. It’s fucked up and it keeps happening. If not with the gays, then with another marginalized community.”

“I took this photo at the time, because there wasn’t much else I could do,” Jonathan says. “I know that sounds cowardly, but it was tactical. There are more I took at the moment, we just chose this one to publish because it is such a visual. But at the time, it was also collecting evidence, to have proof that we didn’t start shit.”

“It was also tactical for me to stay out of it,” Jonathan goes on. “Robin had just gotten out of dodge after Steve took the fall, so she was away and Argyle was in front of what was happening and he wouldn’t get involved anyway. Those three got arrested, he might not have made it to the station at all.”

Jonathan looks angry and upset, even if this all happened 27 years ago. “Out of the six of us, I am a cis white man,” he says. “I had evidence and privilege. I had the biggest chance of being able to bail them out. Sometimes that’s the only way you can have someone’s back.”

He flips the page and the three faux-mug shots he had taken at the time come into view. On the most left is Eddie. He is flashing devil horns and dimples in his portrait, cap perched precariously on his head. His right eye is starting to bruise and there are marks around his wrists from the cuffs, a smear of blood is still under his nose.

Nancy is next to him. She is looking straight into the camera with the same hard look from before, it feels like a mugshot. Her eyes have always had a doe-like quality, almost innocent, which is offset by the bruise underneath her left eye.

Last is Steve. His left eye is swollen shut, but he doesn’t seem to care, grinning widely and showing off a missing tooth. There is dried blood in the corner of his mouth. His hair is mussed up more than ever seen before and blood splatters line his polo. He is the image of a marred goody two shoes.

Jonathan explains: “I’m skipping over Bailed Out on page 74 for now. That is a great reunion photo after they got out, but is pretty basic. A snap shot.”

“Instead I’m focusing on these three, they’re a series of sort. Each are just their name and then After Encountering the Police in 1990,” Jonathan says. “It’s a pretty utilitarian title, but I wanted to ensure that people knew what had happened to make them this injured.”

“It’s quite funny how none of them have an official mug shot, because the police dropped the charges before they processed them after I showed them all the photos I had taken of the arrest and threatened to sue,” Jonathan laughs a little bitterly. “They still kept them overnight though, made Steve miss his shift so his boss would find out. Assholes.”

“With these photos the idea for this book started actually,” Jonathan tells the audience. “I’ve said that in interviews, but it’s true. I was so mad at the time, I wanted to preserve what had happened to us just asking for permission to live and it turned into me wanting to show that we lived and lived gloriously.”

“I think they thought I was a little crazy when I asked them to pose for these,” Jonathan goes on, “but they were good sports.”

“It’s very important that these are posed,” he says, making sure to look into the camera. “They are posed, because they get to chose how to look in response to what happened to them. They kind of look like mug shots, but they aren’t. These are evidence pictures. Pictures the police didn’t want to be taken because of what they showed.”

“Each of them gets to create their own reaction to their arrest and that crafted pose says a lot about them all,” Jonathan explains.

“Eddie, for example, isn’t taking it seriously at all,” Jonathan starts at the left. “He is making a mockery, throwing up his own sign of defiance in his refusal to pose like one is meant to and instead marking the photo as his own by throwing up the horns.”

“Nancy, on the other hand, is taking it seriously. She has that hardened look, which greatly contradicts her girl-ish features,” Jonathan says. “For her, she hasn’t been taken seriously in the past, but now she is. She is drawing you in with her eyes, making you look at her and forcing you to see what has been done to her and to take her seriously. It feels like a mugshot, but also like you’re looking at a victim, but a victim who is making you a silent witness.”

“And then you have Steve. He has this blasé attitude about him, kind of makes him look like a frat boy arrested over spring break for drunken disorderly,” Jonathan says. “He uses his appearance as a shield here. He lost the most to this arrest, but he doesn’t let you see it in this shot. He maintains that American ideal look, that accepted male violence.”

“But Steve is still part of the line up, he lets you know what is really happening, what he really got arrested for. How something that looks so quintessentially American can also be part of the others that it has marked as wrong. How you can’t know. It’s very interesting to see.”

Jonathan shuts the book and gives a tight smile to the camera, unsure the second he doesn’t have his work to hold onto.

“Anyway, that was a little background on pages 72 to 75. Hopefully that was interesting or fun to listen to,” Jonathan signs off. “We’ll try to see if there is any interest for more of these and then we might make more. Thank you for watching.”

A/N:

Can you see that I have put way too much thought into this? Like I have so much stuff that was very deliberate and I get to point it out now lmao xp

#rr writing #a collection of queer photography by jonathan byers #a behind the scenes by jonathan byers #jargancy #steddie #platonic stobin #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #argyle stranger things #steve harrington #eddie lives au #eddie munson #robin buckley #stranger things #st post season 4 #tw: homophobia mention #tw: police brutality mention

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the-gayest-sky-kid · 7 months ago

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thoughts after finishing episode one:

shinji is pretty funny protagonist so far!

hes also a loser and will not be invited to my birthday party. 'isnt that illegal' what are you a cop. mind your business

mr ikari is a class a bitch and i hope he dies painfully

shinjis got so many issues from the getgo jesus christ. from his concern over being useful to his insane daddy issues to being 14 years old...

misato is pretty funny so far. though i get that it was like 1990 smth but like. girl he is 14 stop telling him to man up. i guess regardless of it being a fictional world the military still sucks supreme ass?

misato also has some supreme daddy issues going on there i bet

those were not the dub voices i was expecting for anyone here aside shinji.... but im getting used to them

angel designs pretty cool so far. i like the like... bird skull on this one

music is living up to both the hype and my previous experiences with 90s robot anime dubs. i cant believe they used fly me to the moon as an outro? screaming

when do i meet asuka

#i need to look up what episode she arrives in so i can say feliz jueves tomorrow #swearing cw #longer post

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cecilysass · 2 years ago

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Still Feeling My Father Ascend (4/4)

Read on AO3 | Tagging @today-in-fic

Chapter 4

Memory: 1990

Scully wordlessly traces her finger along the dented chrome trim of the diner table, trying to keep up the pretense that everything is normal. That this brutal silence is just a casual pause in the flow of conversation.

She can’t remember a single occasion in her life when making conversation with her father has felt so awkward. Not after arguments when she was in high school. Not when she told him she was voting for Mondale. Not even after she was caught making out with Marcus on the couch in the living room.

They’ve been sitting on vinyl seats for ten minutes and have exhausted all possible topics: Bill’s nascent Naval career, Melissa’s recent vegetarianism, what committee her mother is on at church. It’s so awful that Scully feels like bursting into tears. But of course she would never do that in front of him.

When the waitress sets their orders down on the table, neither her father nor she look down at their food.

He gestures to her plate. “Why aren’t you eating? You didn’t become a vegetarian, too, did you?”

“No, Dad,” she says quietly. “If I had, I wouldn’t have ordered a burger.”

To punctuate her point, she lifts the stuffed burger and takes a bite, raising her eyebrows. He nods and studies her face, not touching his own Reuben yet.

“So,” he says too casually, “how’s it going?”

She’s chewing and can’t answer right away, but her eyes widen ever-so-slightly. She knows what he means.

“The Academy,” he clarifies anyway, toying with the straw on his iced tea. “Are you doing… well? Your superiors are happy?”

She covers her mouth with her hand and nods, slowly. “I think so, yes,” she says, through the mouthful of burger.

“That’s good,” he says, businesslike. He nods briskly. “I’m not surprised, but that’s good.”

He lifts his Reuben now and sinks his teeth into it, and Scully knows that for him, this is the end of the discussion. He’s asked all he needs to about Quantico. He can now report back to her mother that he asked and she answered. There’s nothing more to be said.

She watches him eat for a moment, feeling her anger simmer dangerously under the surface.

“Daddy,” she says softly, “do you know what I wanted to be when I grew up? When I was a little girl?”

His eyes lock on hers, and he puts his sandwich down. “Yes, I do, as a matter of fact. A doctor.”

“No,” she says in a small voice.

“You don’t remember, Dana. You always wanted to be a doctor.”

She shakes her head. “Not at first.”

He places his finger on the table, his gesture for making a point. “You remember how we used to watch Song of Bernadette together? And you asked me why anyone would believe in the Lourdes spring water when there were doctors and hospitals? That’s when I knew you were going to be a doctor.”

“Before that, I wanted to be a Navy captain,” she whispers. “I wanted to sail a ship. I wanted to protect the seas. Like you.”

He looks down at the table now, shaking his head slowly. “That wasn’t for you, and you know it.”

“That wasn’t for daughters, you mean. Only for sons.”

He meets her gaze again. Scully knows she has her mother’s eyes, but right now, the intensity of her father’s fixed stare reminds her of no one in the world but herself. “That’s not fair, Starbuck. I wanted the best for you. When you went to medical school, you wanted to be a doctor. And if that man, that professor of yours, hadn’t—”

“Ultimately it doesn’t matter what I wanted,” Scully says. “It matters what I want now.”

“To put yourself at risk?” her father bites back. “To chase after– what, killers? Mobsters? Rapists? A tiny little thing like you?”

She bristles at his description of her. “Well, fortunately I’m a good shot, Dad. You can ask my instructors.”

“But your gift is science,” he insists. “It was always a calling for you, understanding God’s rules for the universe. Your brilliant mind. Your mother and I, we’ve often discussed it.”

“I don’t think I’ve found my calling yet,” she replies coolly. “That’s why I’m at Quantico. And I think it’s up to me to decide what my calling might be, not you and Mom.”

“Fine. But why law enforcement?” He leans forward intently with his elbows on the table, in the way that he and her mother always taught her was rude. “That’s what I can’t get past. You could have been working in a lab. You could have been a professor.”

She looks down at her burger. It hurts her to the core that he doesn’t see this about her, this part of her that is most like himself. “I still want to protect the seas, Dad,” she says in a low voice.

“But who’s going to protect you, Starbuck?”

&&&

January 1994

It’s a surprisingly good night’s sleep. She doesn’t remember waking up once, and her dreams are more untroubled than they’ve been since the death of her father. Since Boggs.

When Scully wakes up in the very early morning, she’s enveloped entirely in the warmth of Mulder’s grasp, his arm now fully wrapped around her. She has somehow ended up lying with her cheek pressed against his chest, her leg tangled in between his beneath the blankets.

She should move, but she doesn’t.

He’s asleep, silent and breathing evenly. Lifting her head, she can see puffs of condensation from his breath in the gray morning light. It is very cold in the apartment now. She shushes the voices in her mind worried about professionalism and gently rests her head back down on his pectoral muscle. She sneaks one hand under his back. He’s just so warm. It can’t be helped.

He makes a mumbling sound. Uneasy, she looks at him again, slipping her hand out from under him. He’s not at all awake. With eyes closed, he tosses his head restlessly, his lips moving. “Don’t get up yet, babe,” he murmurs almost inaudibly, something flickering behind his eyelids.

She places her cheek back down on his body and wonders who he’s talking to, what relationship from the past he’s evoking in a dream. It’s hard for her to imagine Mulder with a girlfriend. But surely at some point he’s had them—girlfriends more recent than Phoebe Green.

It would have to be someone very patient with his eccentricity and foibles, she thinks. She wonders if he would be disastrous in a relationship—neglecting his significant other constantly for his work—or if he somehow would be able to turn some of his obsessive focus towards another person. Having lately been the focus of his concern, she can’t imagine what his full romantic attention would be like. How intense that would be.

The notion makes her shiver, even though she’s very warm, really. She decides to shut the door on that thought process.

Instead, her thoughts drift to Mulder saying he couldn’t help but have personal attachments at work. She knows what he means. How can they not have a certain closeness, an understanding beyond regular co-workers? It’s only natural. Natural and overwhelming. Something she needs to put up some fortifications against.

Has there ever been a period in her life more intellectually potent than these past five months working on the X-files? The call of investigating something that can’t exist. That shouldn’t exist. His provocations, her volleys back, his syncretic leaps, her incremental moves to bridge his gaps. The chance to always prove her point. To prove herself.

It makes her heart race; it makes her feel alive; it makes her feel like a chess piece placed in the perfect strategic spot in a way she hadn’t ever before. She wishes she could have made her father understand.

She also worries sometimes it’s like a drug, something she won’t ever be able to step away from. Or worse, that it’s like a disease, something that will ultimately take her over entirely, turn her very brain cells against her. That it’s something she can’t protect herself from. No possible boundaries.

Open yourself to extreme possibilities only when they’re the truth, he’d told her.

As though that sentence represented any kind of meaningful advice.

As though that sentence didn’t really represent both of their personal mantras, anyone’s personal mantra, really: only believe in what’s true. A minefield of tautology, of imprecise meanings. Something about his patronizing tone in that moment—speaking to poor grieving little Dana, whose emotions had made her too slippery to get a firm grip on her science—gets under her skin. This is why, she thinks. This is why it’s better not to let him in.

With her ear pressed to his chest right now, she can hear his heartbeat. Steady and reassuring. It just can’t help but feel intimate. Natural and overwhelming.

“Scully.” His voice, creaky and sleepy, interrupts the pattern of his heart. “What time is it?”

She lifts her head to see him. “It’s morning, I think,” she says quietly. She moves away, as discreetly as possible, sliding herself off of his body and back to a more safe and respectable position at his side, carefully removing her leg from where it’s wedged between his. “Very early morning.”

“We got a little, uh, entangled there,” he says, still a bit hoarse. “Sorry about that.”

“I don’t feel at all cold,” she replies. “And that’s what this was all about, so no need to apologize.”

“I don’t feel cold either,” he agrees. “Good teamwork there, partner.”

It’s his typical banter, but something sounds off, like he is distracted. For the first time, she considers that Mulder, too, has boundaries that are uncomfortable to cross.

“Should I get up to see if the snow has stopped?” Scully asks.

“Oh sure,” he says huffily. “If you want to squander all this good warmth.”

She smiles into his shoulder. If he’s feeling uncomfortable, his coping mechanisms are certainly different than hers.

“We should probably both get up and get started on our workday,” she remarks dryly. “That late paperwork, for example.”

“If we have to,” he says, mock resigned. “Go get the forms and we’ll fill them out right here. You can use my head to bear down on.”

“I should,” she says lightly, not moving at all. “I really should.”

There is silence. Scully is suddenly very aware of the precise weight and dimensions of his hand resting on her back.

“Hey Scully,” he says, changing tone. “You believe Cecil L’Ively had pyrokinesis, don’t you? That he wasn’t just a typical arsonist?”

She chooses her words carefully. “I believe he has very unusual physical abnormalities. A basal body temperature of 109. This may have contributed to his ability to easily commit arson. Science, Mulder.”

“And when the evidence points to answers beyond science?”

“There is no beyond science.”

“When the evidence points to answers beyond what’s conventional?”

She watches her own fingers, flexing them and letting them rest back down on his chest. “I don’t think that sort of leap comes naturally to me,” she admits. “I think my natural inclination is to doubt.”

Mulder says nothing.

“You asked me at the end of the Boggs case why I was afraid to believe, after all we’ve seen. It’s not that I’m afraid, exactly. It’s more that … I don’t know how.”

“I don’t think that’s true, Scully,” he says hesitantly.

“No, I’m not like you. Or my dad. I can’t commit to something abstract. I can’t even always commit to something in front of my eyes— not without trying to second guess it. To see where the holes are, the inconsistencies.”

He seems to be waiting for her to continue.

“If I’m being honest,” she adds, “I worry, a little. Whether there might be something wrong with having one’s only role being to doubt.”

“Come on. Your role isn’t just doubt,” Mulder says. “It’s significantly more than that.”

“But if I can’t—”

“You believe in things. Lots of things. You know that, don’t you?”

Her lips slide into a wan half smile. “Like what?”

He takes a breath. “The power of science to explain. Medicine to heal. In goodness, right, meaning, justice. In your father. Probably your mom. In me, for some reason,” he says. “And I don’t think I’m wrong—you came to the FBI believing you could do something important, right? Help protect people, probably. Be effective. Your own personal motives: they’re who you are.”

Her mouth opens in reaction. She feels like she’s been cracked open, her insides examined on an autopsy table: dissected by Mulder and his Oxford degree. She should be horrified, but she’s not, exactly. Instead, there’s something oddly like gratitude blooming in her chest. He’s only known her for months, but he sees this about her, this part she wants to be noticed and seen. She thinks about how to thank him.

Before she can, there is a grinding noise and a startling brightness.

Both Scully and Mulder instinctively lift their heads in response.

His living room lamps come back on. The TV, too, abruptly hums back to life. An oily announcer’s voice makes promises from the speakers. Scully cranes to see the image of a smiling man demonstrating a blender available for only $29.99.

Scully blinks, dazed, trying to let her eyes adjust. The room looks all wrong, lit so brightly now in the very early morning. Suddenly it feels incongruous to be up close to Mulder. It’s not like the cold temperature has magically changed, but sharing the couch with him seems bizarre under the scrutiny of the light.

“Looks like we’re back in business,” Mulder says, his eyes roaming around the room and landing on her. “You good, Scully?”

“Just trying to get used to the concept of light again,” she says, scowling.

“I know,” he says, flopping his head back down on the couch. “Being able to see clearly is so overrated.”

&&&

Later, as the restored heat and the morning sun conspire to make the apartment a degree or two warmer, they wrap themselves up in thick protective layers and seek the promise of coffee and food in Mulder’s kitchen.

She worries about calling her mom from Mulder’s apartment. Scully plans to thoroughly explain the situation and reassure her mother everything is fine. But she knows Maggie will fret because her daughter isn’t at home as promised. She anticipates an anxious barrage of questions.

She looks over at Mulder, inexpertly cracking an egg on a hot pan. Again she tries to imagine him and Maggie engaged in conversation. This time, it’s not as difficult.

“You know,” Scully says to him, watching the eggs sizzle and brown in the butter, “my mom asked me about the possibility of meeting my partner.”

Mulder raises his eyebrows and reaches casually for his coffee on the counter, lifting it to take a patient sip. If he’s thinking it sounds like the kind of blurring of personal and professional she claimed to want to avoid, he doesn’t say.

“I think it might make her feel better if she met you. More confident about my safety, maybe,” Scully says.

“Or less,” Mulder says dryly, reaching down to fiddle with the level of heat on his stove.

“She suggested dinner sometime.” Scully’s eyes dart up to his face and then back down at the eggs. “You don’t have to, of course. It’s up to you.”

Mulder is attempting to flip the eggs with the spatula, not completely successfully. One crumples on its side. He looks up at her. “Of course, partner.”

“Good,” she nods, licking her lip. “Okay, good, I’ll tell her.”

She can’t read the smile that flashes across Mulder’s face in response, but apparently he’s okay with the idea.

“Now, Scully, I have to tell you some bad news,” Mulder says, growing mock serious. “I don’t have jam. I hope you’re okay with butter on toast.”

“I’ll live,” Scully says “Coffee will help.”

She smiles, too. His cheerfulness is contagious. He piles the poorly-shaped fried eggs onto plates, which she crowns with buttered slices of toast.

“Hopefully the streets will be clear today,” Scully says, as they settle to eat at his dining room table. “So I can get out of here and go home.”

“Exactly what all the ladies say after spending the night,” he says.

Her eyes roll reflexively. “Come on, Mulder,” she says. “You must want me out of your hair, too.”

“Nah,” he says, taking a bite of his toast. “I like having you around.” He chews for a moment before adding: “I mean, what if there’s a body around here to autopsy unexpectedly? Or I need some complicated new organization system for my fridge? You’re handy.”

Scully takes a bite as well. “You’re handy, too, Mulder.”

They eat in silence, and Scully has the sensation that something invisible has tightened between them, something tugged more taut.

She wonders if her father looks down on such moments as these—if her father, post death, can see everything now. If he can read deeper meaning in all the trivialities that surround her daily life. In Mulder’s well-intentioned fried egg on her plate. In the state of her unkempt hair, sticking up in places from sleeping on her partner’s chest. In the geometric fingers of ice still criss-crossing his apartment windows.

She hopes from her father’s all-encompassing vantage point, he’s able to discern the significance in all of this. Maybe now he knows her better than she knows herself.

She picks up her mug and sips the coffee Mulder's made her. The day grows warmer, little by little.

#x files fanfic #xfiles fanfic #the x files #beyond the sea #my fic #still feeling my father ascend #fathers

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