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vaspider · 2 years

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Pete Buttigieg is just a faggot.

It's very important to me that younger queers understand this: to the people who you're trying to be more respectable for when you say things like neopronouns set the trans movement back or you're why the cishets don't accept us or including [aces/bi people with the 'wrong kind' of partners/non-binary people/kinksters/non-passing trans ppl/furries/polyam people] just hurts us, can't you wait until we get all our rights before we talk about some of yours? -- to those people? Pete Buttigieg is just a fag.

On Sunday at Pride Northwest, some kids -- late teens, early 20s -- asked what our button I survived Reagan for this? meant. All of the queer adults at the tables making up our ad hoc counter looked at each other and sighed a little. Emet and another adult started to explain the way that the Reagan Administration handled -- or didn't handle -- the beginning of the AIDS crisis. How many people died. How much we were ignored. The Ashes Action. The Time Magazine article which explicitly blamed bisexual men for passing the pandemic to the cishet community, playing on all the worst stereotypical bullshit. The way that even when the CDC started paying attention, they were so focused on gay men that they ignored AIDS in the lesbian community, leading to the "women don't get AIDS, they just die from it" poster. And so on.

I finished counting out change and passed the last Bear Pride raised fist pin over to a bear a little older than me, then turned my head and interjected, "they didn't care until it started infecting more than just the fags." I turned my head back and handed him his change. He laughed bitterly and said, "remember when they called it 'gay cancer?'"

That what I need you to understand. The people for whom you are folding yourself into smaller and smaller boxes will never see you as anything but a freak. A queer. A dyke. A tranny. A fag.

Never.

These are people who will stand by and let you wither away and die alone, gasping for breath in a cinderblock room, and not even claim your ashes, and they will say you deserve it, because of your lifestyle. If they speak of you at all it will be by the wrong name, with the pictures you hate the most. They will curse at your lover, throw him out of the home you shared, and steal the gift you gave last Christmas to throw it in the trash just so he can't have it and they'll say Jesus loves you! while they do it. They'll feel good and righteous and blessed and holy and pure for doing it.

And for them, you spit in the eye of your sister. For them, you disavow your sibling. For their sake, you trim away bits of your heart and lace yourself up tight. Never too loud. Never too queer. Never inconvenient or embarrassing, never asking for too much.

Pete Buttigieg is what happens when your Boomer dad turns out gay. Middle America. Parents still married. Suburban-sprouted. Valedictorian. Harvard-educated. Rhodes Scholarship. Military service. More power to him: I hope he and Chasten are very happy together. Genuinely, I do.

You couldn't create a more respectable gay if you grew one in a lab run by concerned voter focus groups.

But Pete Buttigieg? Is just a fag.

That's the part you don't seem to get: when they abandoned us, they abandoned all of us. Rock Hudson was a beloved movie star and even personally friendly with that horrid pair of ambitious jackals. Nancy Reagan refused to help him get into the only place in the world that could treat him at the time, and he died.

It was 1985, 4 years after the CDC first released papers on what would eventually become known as HIV/AIDS and 7 years after the first known death from an infection from HIV-2. Reagan hadn't even said the word AIDS by the time Hudson died.

Pete Buttigieg is just a fag, and so am I. Unless I'm a dyke, which seems to depend on who's yelling what from which window and what day it is.

Yes, there will be people who genuinely love and accept you. Those people are worth all the frustration of the rest, thankfully, and they're the ones who love you in a pup mask or a leather harness and a neon jock like the ones sold by the men up the row from us last weekend. They're the ones who laugh out loud when you tell them you hid the word "dyke" in your company name, the ones who love you in all your messiness and uncertainty and the way you don't fit into neat boxes all scrubbed up and clean.

Most cishets, though... well, they don't actively mean you specifically any harm, at least not when they have to look at you. Not when you're right there in front of them. Maybe they'll be okay with you, personally, especially if you're the kind of gay who makes a good rhetorical device, and as long as you remain a good rhetorical device.

They need people to know that they don't have a problem with the gays, after all, and there you are, being all convenient. You make a nice token, and as long as you do, well. You're useful.

But they call you by your deadname when you're not around, and they put the wrong pronouns in your medical record even though they met you years after you came out, and they won't put themselves out to save you. Not one little bit.

I didn't want to be here again. The year I graduated from high school was the worst year of the AIDS crisis. The world into which I became an adult was a world in which an advisor and friend to Reagan, William F. Buckley, openly advocated for forcibly tattooing the HIV status of HIV+ gay men on their buttocks (and IV drug users on their forearms), and in which my father not only told me that when I was 14 or so, but when was told me that he'd advocated for that tattoo being "over their assholes."

(Buckley wrote that in '86, but he doubled down on it in 2005.

Fucker.)

But yeah. I didn't want to be here again. I wanted my daughter to inherit a better world. I wanted Obergefell and Lawrence v. Texas and Hope & Change to really mean something. I work for it, today and all days. I haven't given up.

I need you to know that, too. This isn't a white flag. I'm not surrendering. This isn't over. To misquote Henry Rollins, this is what Marsha and Sylvia and Stormé and Leslie and Brenda and Auntie Sugar trained us for. This is punk rock time.

But I need you to understand that if Pete Buttigieg is just a fag, if that human embodiment of a Wonder Bread, mayo and Oscar Meyer bologna sandwich is not respectable enough for them -- and he's not -- then the rest of us have absolutely no hope of measuring up. Not even if we trim away every colorful, beautiful piece of our community, not even if the Sisters Of Perpetual Indulgence vanish into the ether, not even if we sacrifice the five elements of vogue on the altar of white supremacist cishet middle-class conformity: we can't trim ourselves down to something they'll accept.

The only other option is radical acceptance of our queer selves. The only other option is solidarity. The only other option is for fats and femme queens and drags and kinksters and queers and zine writers and sex workers and furries and addicts and kids and the ones who can look us in the eye and see all of us to say we're here, we're queer, get used to it just the way we did 30 years ago. It's revolutionary, complete and total acceptance of our entire community, not just the ones the cishets can pretend to be comfortable with as long as we don't challenge them too much, or it's conceding the shoreline inch by inch to the rising waters of fascism until we've got nowhere left to stand and some of us start drowning.

That's it. Either it's all of us or it's none of us, because if we leave the answer up to the Reagans of the world and all the people who enabled him in the name of lower taxes and Democrats who wring their hands, weeping oh I don't agree with it but we'll lose the election if we fight it right now, the answer is none of us.

The brunch gays can come, too, I guess.

#long post #uncensored slurs #slurs #homophobic slurs #ronald reagan's grave is a gender neutral toilet #lgbtq #queer #trans #transgender #fag #dyke #lgbt

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nightcolorz · 7 months

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nsfw..

Daniel Molloy is the monster in the closet to me. He’s the ideal son from the middle class suburban white family who seemed guaranteed to make his dad proud, ends up corrupted by literal blood lust, the desire for eternal dick up his ass so desperate that he would kill and die for it. Danny Molloy son of Daniel Molloy jr son of Daniel Molloy sr turned twinkish journalist going around shady bars asking seductive young people for their “stories” ogling the ghost of a man with the sharp cheekbones and the hungry eyes because something in him wants to burn out just to see how bright the fire would be, to feel that warmth. Danny who used to go to church on Sundays in his button up and tie and ride bikes in the evenings with his pals before family dinner now breathless and moaning while the devil himself skinks his teeth into his neck like a beast, wanting more, wanting it to go on forever. I bet his mom teased with the other new mothers about how one day her son would be a heart breaker amongst their then infant daughters, now he’s turned on at the thought of drinking another man’s blood. Now he begs every night to be with his violent predatory bug lover for eternity no matter the small price of killing every night forever, never to see God’s light again. I am so proud of him 💕

#This is my head canon about Daniel being a family disappointment keep scrolling #the vampire chronicles #tvc #vampire chronicles #vc #armand #iwtv #interview with the vampire #Daniel molloy #devils minion #queen of the damned #qotd #armand x daniel #daniel x armand #Tvc meta #Iwtv meta #louis de pointe du lac

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radiant-reid · 1 year

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Easter Sunday

a/n: in honor of my favorite holiday and favorite comfort character

Summary: A cute Easter brunch with the team and some Reid babies

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (fluff)

Word Count: 3.0k

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The sun shining through the large double windows marks the perfect start to the day. The weather forecast has promised sunshine and higher-the-usual temperatures for the holiday weekend. Emily let the team have a five-day weekend as the BAU tradition has dictated for several years. Hotch originally started it, realizing, three months after Christmas, there was a need for family time.

For the Reid children, things look different now that their dad is home more. He has always been very present, but now he’s at more practices, doing drop-offs and pick-ups, and reading stories at bedtime. Still, their excitement for Easter has been growing, knowing it means uninterrupted time with all of their uncles and aunts.

“Good morning, gorgeous.” Spencer greets her from the doorway before she notices he’s not in bed next to her.

He hands her the mug she has every day, filled with perfectly made coffee. He’s the expert at that, so it’s his first task in the morning.

“Thank you, handsome.” She replies, adding to the thanks with a soft kiss on his lips. “It looks like a good day out there.” She notes as he draws the curtain open.

“It’s meant to be in the high 70s later.” He reports, probably having already skimmed the New York Times.

She grins, sipping her coffee. “Perfect for today.”

“We should host one time,” Spencer suggests.

Y/n chuckles softly, shaking her head. “Rossi would never go for it, and I thought you’d know better than to mess with tradition.”

He nods, knowing it’s true. “We’ll stick to summer barbeques and birthday parties since it’s the perfect house.”

It’s the type of house Spencer never really saw himself living in. Growing up, he lived comfortably, and thanks to the mortgage being paid off before his dad left, he continued living in a very middle-class area of suburban Las Vegas until he went to school.

California was more expensive, but between his multiple scholarships, he had enough money to feed himself, always be caffeinated, and live in a small apartment near Cal Tech. He didn’t see the need to spend every cent he had living somewhere fancier, and his mom’s treatment wasn’t fully covered, so he paid for that.

In DC, his place was simple. He didn’t need anything more than a one-bedroom apartment since he didn’t have family coming to stay, and without any student debt and a good-paying job, he had more money than he needed.

When they moved in together, it was to Y/n’s larger apartment that they eventually brought, and with two bedrooms, there was no need for anything huge until Matilda was old enough to sleep in her own room.

After learning they would have twins their second time, their quickly growing family needed much more space, so they brought their dream house. As much as he wanted it, Spencer never expected to have a family or a large home in the suburbs, but he does now, and every morning, he’s grateful for it.

“True.” Y/n agrees.

Spencer sits back on the bed next to her, and she throws her legs over his lap, wrapping her arms around his waist and nuzzling into his side as they enjoy a few minutes together in silence before the craziness of their day starts.

Gurgling on the baby monitor breaks the peace, and the video feed shows Mabel standing up and shaking the crib bars.

“I’ll go.” Spencer declares, shuffling away from her to get out of bed. “And I’ll get the twins changed.”

Y/n raises her eyebrows, looking impressed with what he’s promising to tackle. “Good luck.” She jokes, grinning at him as she also gets out of bed.

“I’ve got this.” He assures her. “Go shower and get dressed up.”

She’s not about to argue with it. Having a shower where she doesn’t get interrupted by little hands banging on the door asking for snacks or to change the TV channel would be a rarity.

Her new dress is perfect for Easter and spring, long and flowy white fabric with a blue floral pattern and a sweetheart neckline. It’ll look even better with some soft curls in her hair.

Spencer’s first stop is Mabel’s room. The door’s sign says her name, and the bedroom has cute flowers painted on the wall above the crib. “Hi, sweet baby.” He coos, reaching out for his youngest. She still wears her sleep sack to bed, and Spencer thinks it’s the cutest thing.

She squeals when she recognizes him, jumping adorably. “Daddy!” She yells in her sleepy voice.

He scoops her up, wrapping his arms around her and cuddling her tightly to his chest before kissing her forehead. “You know, I think you might be ready for a big girl’s bed soon.” He tells her.

Mabel rests her forehead against his. “Like Tilda?” She asks, eyes sparkling at the mention of her big sister.

“Just like Matilda and the twins, too.” He answers.

She pulls back from him quickly with excitement. “We go see them?”

“Let Daddy put your pretty dress on you first, and then we can see them.” He tells her. “If they’re awake.”

They are awake, he discovers when he finally finishes dressing Mabel. She runs ahead of Spencer and climbs the stairs without help to find the three of them in the living room.

“Hi, little people,” Spencer says, announcing himself to them.

They spin around from the TV, jumping up from where they’re sitting and rushing over to hug him. It’s one of his favorite sights when they get excited that their eyes shine upon seeing him, and one of the best feelings is how warm he feels when they race over and fling their arms around him. He has never felt as much love as he does now, yet somehow, it grows more each day.

“Daddy, it’s Easter!” Matilda cheers.

“I know.” He says. “Happy Easter.”

“Did the Easter bunny come?” Toby wonders.

Spencer nods. “Grandpa Rossi called to say he’d dropped off lots of chocolate eggs for all of you.” It’s a lie, technically, but it makes their faces light up all over again, so it’s worth it.

“Are the cousins coming?” Aspen wonders.

“Henry, Michael, Jake, David, Chloe, Lily, Rose, and Hank is as well,” Spencer lists the other BAU kids and former BAU kid, earning another round of cheers from his kids. “We need to get ready, though. Tillie, your dress is hanging in your wardrobe. Want me to help you, Aspen?”

She shakes her head. “No, I can get changed by myself.”

Independent as always, and something he should have anticipated. “Okay, upstairs and into dresses.” He instructs. “Then you can watch TV. T, you want daddy’s help getting ready?”

“Can you put gel in my hair?” Toby asks. “Mommy says that it looks handsome.”

Spencer chuckles at how cute his little boy is. “Sure, bud.” He agrees. “And it does make you look very handsome.”

It’s always a juggle with four kids, trying to get everyone dressed in time to go anywhere. Mabel can’t be left alone, so Spencer has to multitask between keeping her from running away to cause trouble while doing Toby’s hair and ensuring Aspen and Matilda haven’t gotten distracted.

“Look how handsome you look.” Y/n coos as she peers into the bathroom where Spencer’s finishing off Toby’s hair.

“Mommy!” He squeals, jumping off the stool and running over to hug her.

She hugs him back, careful not to ruin his hair. “Hey, bubba, did Daddy do your hair really nice?”

“Mhm.” He answers.

“You want help getting changed?” She offers, met by him shaking his head, following the independent streak of his older sisters. “Alright, get to it, Mister.” She instructs, sending him off to his room with a pat on the back. Spencer’s eyes stay fixed on her as she stands there, and he rests against the bathroom counter. “What?” She asks shyly.

He smiles softly at her. “Nothing.” He shakes his head. “It’s just you’re so pretty. I still can’t believe you’re my wife.”

Then Y/n is grinning dumbly, twirling in her dress for him to get the full 360 view. “I might marry you again if you keep being so sweet.”

“Then I’d be the luckiest guy in the world again.” He tells her, walking over and placing his hands on her waist. He just stands there looking at her, admiring every detail of her makeup.

“Stop.” She says, pushing his shoulder. “I love you, Spencer Reid.”

Spencer steals a kiss, careful not to mess up her pink lipstick. “I love you more, Y/n Reid.”

She shakes her head. “Impossible, but we should debate that later.” She decides. “We’ve got babies to get ready.”

“Yeah.” Spencer agrees. “It’s been oddly silent for a little too long.”

Thankfully, the silence wasn’t getting-into-mischief silence. Y/n takes over getting the kids ready while Spencer gets himself dressed, and impressively, they’re done five minutes early.

“How you do this every morning is a miracle to me.” He remarks as they make their way out the door.

“I’m just a super mom.” She jokes, but it’s the truth.

“You absolutely are.” Spencer agrees with her. “The best mom in the world.”

Car rides are possibly louder than being inside, thanks to the enclosed space, but Rossi’s house is only a few minutes drive, and they pull in behind JJ’s car.

The girls are in pretty pink dresses that’ll no doubt end up covered in grass stains, and Toby’s pastel blue shirt matches Spencer’s. In both Y/n and Spencer’s eyes, they’re the most beautiful children ever.

“Little Reids!” Penelope cheers as soon as they’re through Rossi’s wide-open front door. She’s crouched down to scoop them all up, wrapping them all in a tight hug, looking like the definition of sunshine in her yellow dress. “Aren’t you four just so perfect?” She asks rhetorically as she pulls back to look at them. They are, and their parents nod to answer her confession.

After answering a few of Penelope’s questions, they squirm away to run through the house and greet everyone else.

“And the perfect parents.” She greets them with hugs as well.

Y/n chuckles onto her shoulder. “You look incredible, Pen.” She compliments.

“That’s you, Mrs. Reid.” She replies. “And you’re all matching, just the cutest family ever.”

Spencer grins, wrapping his arm around his wife’s shoulder. “We kind of are.” He agrees.

“Come on, come see everyone.” Penelope ushers them through the house, taking on the role of secondary host as she usually does at Rossi’s. She and Krystall tag-team the job.

Henry, Michael, Hank, Matilda, Toby, Aspen, and Mabel are waiting in the living room, their little faces pressed against the glass as they look out the big glass doors trying to spot the hidden easter eggs in the garden.

Everyone’s in their nice clothing, dresses and good shirts with jackets. It’s mostly BAU members Y/n often sees at Rossi’s, but Derek and Savannah have made the trip and quickly hug their old friends.

“Look at you, mama,” Derek remarks. “You’re as gorgeous as ever.”

“And you’re as flattering as ever.” She jokes, nudging his shoulder. “We didn’t know for sure that you’d be coming.”

“Couldn’t miss a family day.” He reminds her.

The Simmons’ walk through the door a moment later, and Rossi flings open the glass doors for the excited children to race outside and start their egg hunt with squeals of delight.

Y/n gives Rossi a hug as the adults stream outside. “Thank you for hosting another wonderful Easter.”

“You’re always welcome, my dear.” He assures her. “I hope you don’t mind the little Reids going home full of sugar.” He nods to the massive baskets of chocolate and candy each kid carries, almost as big as Mabel.

“I guess Spencer’s doing bedtime.” She jokes. An hour on the trampoline should do the trick.

“Speak of the devil,” Rossi says, drawing her attention to her husband as he comes waltzing over, holding out an extra mimosa to her.

She takes it appreciatively, letting him wrap his arm around her shoulder. “A very handsome devil.” She chuckles, making Spencer blush easily. It’s endearing to her that he reacts the way he did the first time.

“Shall we eat?” Rossi asks, looking around the yard where everyone’s scattered chatting.

“It almost looks too delicious to eat.” Y/n compliments, looking at the spread.

It’s the gorgeous, perfectly prepared food the team has become accustomed to having at Rossi’s. There are hot cross buns, fresh bread, fruit salad, pastries of all kinds, bacon, eggs, waffles, and all the toppings in the world.

They sit at the adult table, and Spencer’s hand drifts to her knee instinctively. It’s why she sits on his left side each time. The kid table is next to the big one with smaller seats and prefilled plastic cups of juice. Rossi and Krystall are always prepared to entertain.

The kids take their seats, and Y/n momentarily leaves to ensure they’re getting balanced plates and not just gorging themselves on chocolate and candy.

Then she’s back to Spencer’s side, and they’re talking with the rest of the team, basking in the warmth of the sun and family. It’s what they always have been. Even throughout the darkness they’ve seen over the years, they’re closer than ever, and there’s so much love between them.

After brunch, a few drinks in, and Spencer’s more relaxed, pulling Y/n onto his lap and resting his head on her shoulder while they laugh and joke with the team.

It doesn’t last too long before someone’s pulling on Spencer’s sleeve. “Daddy, can you look for the Easter eggs in the trees?” Toby asks, showing him his best puppy eyes even though it’s unnecessary since he’d do anything for him.

Spencer looks around the table to see Derek and Matt being asked the same question, all three of them being targeted by their sons for their height. Flashing a curious look at Rossi, Spencer agrees, moving out from under Y/n to join the hunt.

Rossi and Krystall insist on cleaning up, not wanting their guests to move a muscle, which leaves most of the girls alone at the table since Penelope and Luke are getting drinks and definitely not flirting with each other.

Rose, who has been sleeping so far, starts to cry in her carrier, and Kristy unclips her, pulling her into her arms for cuddles to quiet her. She’s adorable, most similar looking to Jake, in Y/n’s opinion.

“She’s so tiny.” Y/n remarks off-handedly, looking at the small baby. “What’s it like? Four to five?”

All eyes are on her in a second, but JJ beats everyone else to speak. “You’re not...”

Y/n shakes her head quickly, stopping that rumor before it can start. “No. No, I’m not.” She assures them, holding up her glass of champagne to prove it. “I’m just wondering.”

“The nights are rough, but diaper changing is still the same,” Kristy answers honestly. “And Mabel’s probably young enough that you’ve got all her stuff. Is it something you’re considering?”

Y/n shakes her head again. “Not until I see a little baby or that.” Her eyes drift to Spencer, who’s chasing Toby and Aspen around the yard. “But we could end up with twins again, and I think six is a little too crazy.”

Laughter breaks out around the rest of the group, which relieves the seriousness of discussing family planning.

“Here.” Kristy offers Rose to hold, and Y/n takes the baby happily, looking at her adorable face and seeing up close how tiny she is.

“She’s so precious.” She notes, catching Spencer’s eyes. “Spence, look at how little she is.”

Her address gets Matt and Derek’s attention, who are standing next to Spencer. “Uh oh,” Derek remarks knowingly, smirking at Spencer.

“Someone’s about to commit to a new baby.” Matt pats him on the shoulder, smirking as well.

Spencer chuckles, unsure of if it’s true or not. He’ll give her another baby, promised he’d go up to five if she was willing. “Do you think I could pretend I didn’t hear her?” He asks jokingly.

“Get over there, papa bear.” Derek insists with a laugh.

Dutifully, he walks over, sitting next to Y/n and admiring the baby. “She’s so cute.” He compliments Kristy first.

“Look at how little she is.” Y/n repeats.

“Yeah, it seems impossible they’re ever this little.” He remarks, earning hums of agreement from the other women sitting around the table who once had babies this little and now have fully grown children running around in the yard. He remembers when his children were that little like it was yesterday, but Rose still looks tiny. “No more, though.” He tells his wife with a laugh.

“Yeah, you’re right.” She agrees. “Not when we’re just getting full nights of sleep.”

The party continues into the late afternoon. The company is too good, and too much fun is being had for anyone to leave earlier.

Despite how much candy they’ve eaten, Aspen and Matilda still manage to eat more in the car on the way home. Y/n agrees they can sleep in the lounge for a sleepover while watching movies, and it takes them far longer than usual to fall asleep, but they do.

Y/n and Spencer hug in the kitchen as they watch the ending credits. He knows it’s a good chance to ask about what he heard earlier. “Do you actually want another baby?”

She’s taken aback, figuring it was forgotten, but she shakes her head. “Not really, but I think our kids are beautiful, and babies are cute when they’re that little.”

“We’d get more chocolate if we had five.” Spencer jokes, nodding to the baskets on the table and pulling away from her to steal one.

“Spencer.” She giggles, splitting the chocolate egg with him. “I think we’ve got more than enough. It’ll last us until next year.”

“I love Easter, you know?” He asks rhetorically. “And you, everything we have, our kids, being a dad, brunch.”

She nods in agreement, leaning up to peck his lips. “I love you, too. Thanks for being in this with me.”

Spencer takes her left hand and kisses her ring finger. “Always.”

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#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #Spencer Reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid one shot #Criminal Minds #CRIMINAL MINDS FANDOM #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds family #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fic

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thezombieprostitute · 19 days

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Thoughts on sleepy prompt 33 with Lloyd? Not soft Lloyd, not dark Lloyd, just like, decent equal partner Lloyd?

…and possibly 12, too, bc that’s just so him

Lloyd's Soulmate - Drabble

"decent equal partner Lloyd"... I'm gonna have to channel @eulalielatibule 's Suburban Dad Sunday Lloyd for this because she's the best at writing this kind of Lloyd. That being said, I'm gonna go ahead and use my Soulmate Lloyd, but they've definitely settled in together.

A/N: this was mostly written on my phone!

Ask based on this.

33. “Look me in the eyes and tell me what time you went to bed last night. Or if you went to bed, for that matter.”

12. “No offense, but you look like you haven’t slept in days.”

It's been almost a year since your soulmate, Lloyd, kidnapped you. The first few weeks were quite the learning experience for the two of you. It was a lot of tit-for-tat learning how to live with someone like Lloyd but the two of you actually made it work.

Go figure, Lloyd was an absolute softy for positive reinforcement which you were happy to give when he started respecting your boundaries and needs. The power dynamics were always in flux but both of you seemed to thrive on that. Arguing over what to watch was just foreplay.

Lately, though, you hadn't had the energy for arguing. You would give in to Lloyd a lot easier, which had him paranoid about retribution. Maybe it was depression? You were doing a lot more sleeping and eating. The latter was definitely affecting your figure but, thankfully, Lloyd didn't seem to care other than fully enjoying your bigger breasts.

Lloyd came back from a mission and found you groggily eating some ice cream on the couch.

"No offense, but you look like you haven’t slept in days," he says.

"No offense, but you like you need a shave," you snap back.

"If you really, truly want me to shave the clit tickler you beg to ride every night, I will," he threatens. "But I don't think you really want that."

"Yeah, you're right," you sigh. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm just always tired and hungry and my clothes aren't fitting anymore. Maybe I need a workout program or something."

Lloyd considers for a few moments before going to his phone.

"What are you doing," you ask.

"Checking the period tracker," he replies.

"You've been tracking my periods??"

"Well one of us has to! You have no idea how many headaches I've spared us both by making sure I know when to restock the chocolate."

You cross your arms and pout on the couch while he goes back to his phone.

"Shit," he mutters. You look up at him, eyebrow arched. He takes a deep breath, "you're late. And not just a few days late."

Your eyes widen, "shit, shit, shit! I need a test! Now!" You try to get off the couch but Lloyd gestures you to stay seated.

"I'm getting someone to pick some up right now," he soothes. "And, just to be certain, I'm getting you an appointment with Dr. Beck, okay?" He sits next to you and you immediately cuddle up to him, holding his arm in a hug.

"In the meantime," he smirks, "another way to test is to see if you taste differently."

"Lloyd, this is serious," you gently smack his arm.

"And I'm being serious," he tells you as gently pushes you onto your back. You grab him and pull him into a kiss, needing the comfort of his weight on top of you as your brain was frazzled trying to figure everything out. Maybe a good orgasm really would help, and Lloyd was damn good at giving you those.

Two positive pregnancy tests later you're now waiting on the Doctor's office to confirm or deny the results. You feel like you've been in a state of shock since the first positive test. Thankfully Lloyd has been doing the heavy work and the thinking. Making sure you're getting the medical checks you need, making sure you eat.

"We really should talk," you tell him over dinner.

"Absolutely, Sweetheart."

"Do you want the baby?"

"It'll be an adjustment," he admits. "But so were you. And I haven't been happier since I got you."

You chuckle at that. "But a baby? So soon?"

"I've got the means to take care of you both. You won't have to worry about a thing."

You put a hand over your stomach, "promise you'll treat them even better than you treat yourself?"

"I promise," he says without hesitation.

"Okay," you nod. "Then, when the doctor gives us confirmation, we'll go into full parent mode. Okay?"

"Of course."

A few days after the confirmation from the doctor you're starting to feel better. Getting proper nutrition, knowing what's going on, and not getting angry at yourself for your clothes not fitting were all very good for your mental health. You've even been getting better sleep.

Unlike Lloyd. You woke up from an actually good night's sleep to find Lloyd on his computer looking like he hadn't slept since he fucked you into a coma last night.

"Lloyd," you call, getting his attention. "When was the last time you slept?"

"I've been sleeping here and there. I'm fine." He waves you off.

You spin his chair so that he's facing you, "Look me in the eyes and tell me what time you went to bed last night. Or if you went to bed, for that matter."

"If you're telling me you don't remember what we did in bed last night I'm running you to the emergency room, Sunshine."

"You know what I mean, Lloyd."

"I'm doing research. I've never been a parent before so I want to make sure to get some intel."

"You've got months to prepare. You don't have to push yourself this much this early." You stand up and cross your arms but that's when you see what's on Lloyd's screen. "Have you been buying baby clothes?"

"No! I've been getting ideas for my tailor! No way is our baby going to wear anything cheap!"

You laugh for the first time in weeks. A deep, big belly laugh. Lloyd is happy to hear it but also confused about what's so funny. You end up laughing so hard you have to sit on his lap as he holds you.

Finally catching your breath you tell him, "you really never do things half-assed, do you?"

Lloyd chuckles, "with an ass like mine? No way."

Tagging @alicedopey and @icefrozendeadlyqueen because I promised I would.

#lloyd hansen x reader #zombie asks #soulmate au

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dksw0rld · 1 year

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How I achieved being the happiest I’ve ever been during the hardest year I’ve ever been through

I stopped waiting for the weekend to live life

If a friend asks me to go out to grab a drink on a Thursday for happy hour I now say yes. If I want to go to the movies on a Monday I go on a Monday. I began to refuse living a life that waited for the weekend to live.

I stopped feeling guilty for spending money on myself

When I began to make my own money in high school, I would save all of it and not spend any on myself. A lot of this was honestly due to my parents paying for everything, they wanted me to save the money I was making for college and the future. Don’t get me wrong having parents like that was and still is a blessing. At the same time, it led me to associate money with needing to hoard it to be prepared for the next step. I began to recognize and heal those thoughts. I embarked deeper on my self love journey and adopted the mindset of recognizing that I am worth every penny I spend and more, whether that be spending money on experiences, on self care, or for my future self.

I re-started a hobby I loved as a child

When I was younger, I did ballet among a few other activities. I loved all of them but ballet was (and still is) my favorite. For years I wanted to start again but let life get in the way. This year I said enough. I looked up in person classes in my area and found that all of them were way out of my price range but, instead of giving up, I found another way. I found a program that taught lessons online with an instructor. Re-starting ballet truly makes my inner-child so happy.

I prioritize experiences

This ties into not waiting for the weekend to live life but it deserves it’s own point. I began prioritizing finding ways to live. I look up events in my area and actually attend them. I attend events I find that bring me out of my comfort zone like dance classes in the park, roller skating with a group of people I don’t necessarily know, attending a sunflower festival, etc. I also joined a few social groups that host events and I attend those. I take weekend trips with friends. I take myself on staycations and solo weekend trips. Life really is so much fun when you actually go outside and do things!

I volunteer

I grew up volunteering and I stopped during college. This year I realized how much I missed it. I also knew it would be a great way to meet new people and foster relationships. I’ve always loved being around horses so I knew I wanted to volunteer at a barn. I googled horse barns near me and found one 8 minutes away from my apartment - this barn is a true hidden suburban gem. It’s a therapeutic horse barn for kids with special needs. I volunteer there every Friday and Saturday and am absolutely in love with it. It brings so much to my life. I also volunteer through my church home but more about that in the next point.

I prioritized finding a church home

I grew up in the church as my Dad was an elder there for 15 years. I sort of lost touch with my faith in the past couple of years. This year I renewed my faith and prioritized looking for a church home after putting it off for a year and a half. I googled churches near me and visited one every Sunday until I felt I found the right fit. I found the church I’m at now and I cannot explain to you how life changing it’s been. I joined a community group through the church to meet more Christians my age and those people mean so much to me now. We meet every Tuesday night, we go on runs together, volunteer together, had a Friendsgiving this past year, it’s just been amazing. I’ve grown so much in my faith.

I stopped prioritizing finding love

I am truly a certified lover girl. I have so much pure love to give and craved someone who would give me the same type of love. I tried to find that person most of my life and while I’ve had some great men in my life they never were “the one”. This year I genuinely stopped prioritizing finding my person and started prioritizing myself and my life. It feels like a weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. I’m now filled with trust that my person will come along when it’s time and until then I’m truly enjoying my season of singleness!

I don’t care what anyone thinks

I’ve genuinely never cared what people think, even when I was younger, which has been a huge blessing. I’ve always marched to the beat of my own drum. I’ve never been ashamed to like what I like or to not like what I don’t like, no matter what the people my age were doing. I’ve always done what I’ve felt is best for my life. I never get embarrassed about anything. This notion has just intensified this year.

I don’t care about social media

I stopped going on Instagram. I deleted the app off of my phone. I deleted Twitter years ago. I don’t go on TikTok. I only use Snapchat for extra picture and video storage. I genuinely do not care about social media anymore. I don’t care for everyone to know what I’m up to. I don’t care to know what anyone else is up to. I know what’s going on in the lives of people that matter to me because I actually talk to and spend time with them. I personally don’t see the point in posting on Instagram. I don’t care to know what “celebrities” are doing. I just truly don’t care about any of it.

I prioritize privacy

This year I realized how important privacy is. For a whole host of reasons. Some of them being peace, less evil eye, safety, not having the pressure of trying to “keep up”. I can go on and on honestly. This year I’ve begun to say less and observe more. Since choosing private over public I’ve seen my happiness grow and my life blossom. I’m very careful with who I let into my circle. I don’t tell anyone everything. I’m selective with whom I share with and what I share. I’m truly in love with privacy. I love having beautiful experiences and no one or only the people I’m having them with knowing.

I pay attention to myself

This year I began to truly pay attention to myself. How I act in certain situations, my thought processes, my emotions, what I still need to work on, how I’ve grown, what triggers me, etc. Once I started doing this, healing, growth and making changes has become so much easier. I finally feel like I know myself through and through. I feel in touch with who I am. I know how to love myself and make myself happy.

I pray this new year you begin to choose happiness, because happiness will always be a choice. This year was NOT easy for me at all but I still prioritized myself and my happiness and I truly have never been happier. I pray this new year you choose yourself. I pray this year you begin to truly live.

#dk #how i achieved happiness #life lessons #choose yourself

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sir-buddy · 1 year

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I offer thou some goofy 1 AM comic shit of the suburban dads on this lovely Sunday evening.

These are kinda unfinished but I hope y'all like them.

#art #my art #traditional art #night at the museum #natm #jedtavius #jed and octavius #jedediah smith #gaius octavius #julia #suburban dads au #natm au #gay #comic

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henriettasyarn · 2 months

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The Scientific Method of Turning Thirty: Chapter One - Part Two of Three, by @henriettasyarn

Growing up in Birmingham, Alabama, I had the great fortune of well-educated, progressive, Episcopalian parents. In the Episcopal church, doubt is everything. Without doubt and questioning, how can one have a true, authentic, relationship with God? I was taught at a young age that blind faith is not faith at all and that you must forge your own path to the divine. One day after school, I was probably in fourth or fifth grade, I told my dad about a complicated conversation I had with my classmates. After lunch that day, Morgan and her Baptist besties came over to me and asked if I had been “saved.” Clearly, conversion was on their collective mind. This was roughly 2004, prior to the evangelical-manipulation-revolution of the twenty-tens, when they began luring you in with a casual coffee date after class or maybe even a pre-game in their dorm room, only to reveal their true mission on the second or third date: eternal salvation. No, in suburban Alabama, the evangelicals of the early 2000s were fueled by fire and brimstones. The method to their witness was to place two choices before their subjects: altar call salvation at their upcoming Sunday morning concert or eternal damnation in a fiery hell with Hitler and Dahmer. This was also around the time that the Bathodists and the Babbel-ers discovered projectors, powerpoint presentations and electric guitars.

Anyways, Morgan needed to know if I had been saved. I asked, “I don’t know, what does that mean?” One of the Baptist besties said, “if you have to ask, then you for sure have not been saved.” Naturally, I became defensive. When I’m on the defense, my instinct is, and always has been, to reason with the aggressor. It didn’t work at ten and it rarely works at thirty. I dove deep into an explanation of the history of the Anglican Church. I explained communal prayer, infant baptism and confirmation. I explained the liturgy and communion. I felt great afterward — I distinctly remember feeling so proud for having shared what a real church is like to these simpletons whose idea of peak Christianity was a mission trip to Gatlinburg or Gulf Shores. Morgan deflated my giant head in one instant, “Oh wow, since you drink wine at church, that means your entire family is going to H-E-double hockey sticks. I don’t think we can be friends with you anymore.”

How was that her only takeaway from my monologue of self-righteousness? I was baffled and annoyed and jealous. They pranced away in their two-tone north-face jackets and left me alone to contemplate the eternal damnation of every member at my rather large, and extremely well-funded, Episcopal church on the other side of town. That evening, I gave my dad every detail of the interaction. I likely included my in-depth analysis of their body language and their outfits as well. This was one of my earlier lessons on humility. Instead of telling me they were wrong, he told me that, just like me, they go to their parents’ church. He said that there are many different ways to find God and our way is not the right way and it doesn’t work for everyone. We talked about my Catholic cousins and my Baptist cousins, all older than me and all iconic role models of my burgeoning adolescence. He reminded me that we aren’t prejudiced toward them for following a different belief system than our own, so we shouldn’t judge or belittle our classmates either. My cousins, though, never made me feel outside; when we were together, we were the same. The confrontation from Morgan and her Baptist besties made me feel “other.” I embrace feeling different, but the feeling of otherness was not the same feeling as having pride in my differences. When someone’s actions cause you to feel less-than, you develop a pain and a sadness that doesn’t easily go away.

Sprinkles’s god is not a false god. Whatever path you choose for yourself to the divine is right because you chose it of your own free-will and, hopefully, it brings joy, peace and harmony to your life. Two stories come to mind when I think about Adam and his pentecostal upbringing. The first is about gothic architecture and his ignorant Sunday school teacher, Miss Jan. During his elementary and middle school years Adam changed schools nearly every year; in third grade, Adam saw three or four different elementary schools. His parents weren’t settled, made some financial mistakes, and didn’t get their shit together in time for their first born, resulting in little Adam having to make new friends all the time. He got really good at this. He learned how to spot the kinder kids in the lunchroom and found ways to adapt his personality to maintain a satisfactory level of comfort wherever he was. One morning in Sunday school, Miss Jan was telling Adam and his fellow elementary attendees that goths were demonic. I can’t remember the exact details, but all you need to know is that a grown woman was telling young people to go about their lives hating other kids in the name of god because they were inherently evil. As a young guy who moved a lot, Adam found the alternative, punk, goth, nerdy crowd to always be the most welcoming to the new kid. These were his people. They weren’t evil. Adam is also very smart. He began reading at really young age and was already familiar with the Gothic era of architecture and literature. He, poignantly I’m sure, asked his Sunday school teacher, “How can a building be evil? Gothic is a type of architecture.” In response, he got slapped.

The second story is about a guy named Chad Brown. Chad Brown was Adam’s youth pastor in high school. Teenage Adam respected Chad. Teenage Adam found comfort in Chad’s disdain for the over-the-top shama-lama-C-O-L-C-O-As (for those of you unfamiliar with southern pentecostal churches, that is the noise that a pentecostal makes when they want some extra attention from the preacher). I think Adam’s time with Chad was very healing for him. He found someone who could simultaneously laugh at the fuss and affirm their shared upbringing. One day, Chad gave Adam some advice. He told him that we’re never fully ourselves all the time and that it’s okay, and even necessary, to be different versions of ourselves when we’re around different people. He told teenage Adam to get some metaphorical masks and get on with his life. So, that’s what Adam did and I think that was liberating for him. It makes me really sad. I like to think that I know the real Adam and that Adam knows the real me: the good, the bad, the ugly and everything in between. I love the real Adam, unconditionally. He is so fun, so kind, SO smart, so loving and hearing his unaltered thoughts and unrestrained opinions on the goings on of the world make him even more lovable and intriguing. I love knowing him and my heart breaks for his family who don’t know him like my family and I do.

#henriettasyarn #original post #original work #author #writer #writerscommunity #writers and poets #female writers #creative writing #writing #chapteroneparttwo #evangelism #toxic christianity #christianity #episcopalian #alabama #deep south #millenials

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draguta · 2 years

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.the infinite thoughts of you | sneak peak.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: it's the summer of 1985. as an escape from your tiresome home life you join your friends for summer camp at the nearby camp fairwood. little do you know that what you thought would be just a four-week getaway would actually turn into a life-changing summer, all thanks to the dark-haired school 'freak'.

✨ out now | read here ✨

Hawkins, Indiana. Located 80 miles outside of Indianapolis, with a population of 13,000. A robust, small town filled with cardboard cut-out suburban homes and neighbourhood-watch alliances. A town that had survived so much without even knowing it. A town fueled on secrets. The secret affairs of bored housewives who sought the affection their husbands failed to give them on the stained mattresses of roadside motels. The secret swigs from silver flasks by balding middle-aged men attempting to mask the smell of liquor with spearmint gum. The secret bruises that the women of families from the East side of town concealed beneath the long sleeves of their sweaters.

Of course, the thing about these secrets is that they never stayed secret for long. Everyone knew about Mrs. Johnson’s younger boyfriend in the city, even if her husband was blissfully unaware. Everyone could smell the whiskey on Mr. Carper’s breath as he waddled into work, his wobbly and uncoordinated limbs giving away to everyone the fact that he was drunk. Everyone knew that Mr. Baxter on the corner beat his poor wife on an almost daily occurrence. It was these secrets that festered at the very heart of this town. They became whispers between soccer-mums in supermarket aisles, morning gossip outside church before Sunday service. Of course, they didn’t care if these rumours were true or not. Even if the evidence hadn’t been as clear as day, the stories would still spread, mixing in with talk of children’s football games and new patio builds over afternoon tea. They were simply a way for the tired townspeople of Hawkins to escape their own miserable, mundane lives, and shower everyone else with their holier-than-thou opinions.

Your family was no different. You offered to the world an immaculate image of the perfect family, so perfect in fact that it could be deemed unnerving. Every photograph captured the black and whites of plastered on smiles, masks worn by a family fighting trauma behind closed doors, never to be shown to the rest of Hawkins. No, your mother would never allow for everyone to know that your father spent ninety-percent of his nights with his secretary, a pretty blonde nearly twenty years his junior. Your father would never allow for anyone to know that he provided your mother with an allowance each month for your estranged uncle, a man whom you’d never met due to his ‘bad tendencies’ as your mother called it, but who you knew lived in the trailer park. Your parents would never allow for your peers to know that they had offered a hefty donation to your older brother’s college just so that they would let him attend. You would never make it known that you spent almost every night in a nightmare of your own making, replaying events from years gone by that you’d rather keep locked away. No one needed to know these things, but of course they did. That was just how it worked in Hawkins - everyone knew everything.

The thought had occurred to you numerous times, and came to you again as you sat in the passenger seat of your dad’s car, taking in the familiar faded signs on shop fronts and the silent figures milling along the sidewalks, if everything that had happened over the past few years could in any way change the town. If the mysterious deaths and missing children and suspicious fire had sparked in itself a revolt against the mundane, boring lives of these people. Because you knew that an even darker secret brewed under the perfect picture that was Hawkins; a secret that no one would believe even if they saw it with their own eyes. Of course, you should’ve known that it wouldn’t alter anything. Nothing here would ever change, not in the years since Will Byers first went missing, and not any time in the near future. Hawkins was a relative time-capsule in a world that was moving forward without it, filled with old-time ideals and cemented judgements.

✨ out now | read here ✨

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menalez · 1 year

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Article about the brave men who stopped the gunman

Club Q Colorado shooting: Attack was ended by dad and drag performer https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-us-canada-63698165

A father and a drag performer managed to subdue a gunman who opened fire at an LGBT nightclub in the US state of Colorado, it has emerged.

The attacker killed five people and left 17 others with injuries at Club Q in Colorado Springs on Saturday night.

Officials named the "heroes" who halted the attack as Richard Fierro and Thomas James, without detailing their actions.

Mr Fierro provided his account of events, saying he tackled the suspect, took the weapon and hit him with it.

It is not clear if Mr James is the drag performer Mr Fierro says then stepped in to help.

At a Monday afternoon press conference, police identified the victims as Daniel Aston, Derrick Rump, Kelly Loving, Ashley Paugh and Raymond Vance. Family members say Aston and Rump were both bartenders at Club Q.

The suspect, named by police as 22-year-old Anderson Lee Aldrich, is in police custody in hospital.

The gunman was stopped by a 15-year US Army veteran who was attending a drag performance at the club with his wife and daughter.

Speaking to reporters on Monday evening, Richard Fierro said his combat training kicked in as he pounced on the gunman, pulling him to the floor by his body armour.

"I just ran over there. Got him. I'm thinking, 'I gotta kill this guy. He's gonna kill my kid. He's gonna kill my wife'," said the Iraq and Afghanistan veteran.

"It's the reflex," Mr Fierro said from the front yard of his suburban Colorado Springs home. "Go. Go to the fire. Stop the action. Stop the activity. Don't let no-one get hurt."

The local brewery owner said he and his family had dropped to the floor as the bullets began to fly.

He described seeing the gunman move in the direction of a patio where other club-goers had fled, before charging at him.

He said the man dropped his rifle as he fell. They began wrestling on the ground. Mr Fierro said he snatched the attacker's pistol from him and used it to beat him.

"I kept whaling on [hitting] him. I'm a big dude and this guy was bigger," Mr Fierro said.

He told reporters that he urged a drag performer to kick the attacker in the head.

"One of the performers was walking by and I told her kick him," he said. "And she took her high heel and stuffed it in his face."

Mr Fierro said one of the dead included his daughter's boyfriend, 22-year-old Raymond Vance.

Colorado Springs Mayor John Suthers hailed the bystanders' "incredible act of heroism".

He said that he had spoken to Mr Fierro on Monday, telling reporters: "I have never encountered a person who engaged in such heroic actions that was so humble about it."

Praise also came from the governor of Colorado, as well as the owner of the club - who said the "heroes" had probably saved lives.

Police are looking into who owned the rifle allegedly used in the shooting, as well as a handgun the suspect was carrying at the time of his arrest.

The investigation will determine whether the shooting - which came on the eve of Sunday's Transgender Day of Remembrance - was a hate crime, and if the suspect acted alone.

The suspect is facing five murder charges and five charges of committing a bias-motivated crime causing bodily injury, according to US media. Investigators said on Tuesday that no charges had yet been formally filed.

Club Q has been described as the heart of the LGBT community in Colorado Springs, a city 70 miles (110km) south of Denver.

The suspect had reportedly previously come to police attention over an alleged bomb threat in 2021.

According to a police report at the time, his mother had called emergency services saying "he was threatening to cause harm to her with a homemade bomb, multiple weapons, and ammunition".

President Joe Biden said Americans "cannot and must not tolerate hate".

In 2016, 49 people were killed in a shooting at the Pulse gay club in Orlando, Florida. At the time it was the deadliest mass shooting in US history.

#the fact that a veteran that was probs killin civilians before is actually purely saving them this time

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eulalielatibule · 7 days

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i think lloyd would have a boudoir in his room 🥺 somewhere to store his, ahem, copious bottles of cologne and for you to get ready 🫶🏻

Lloyd absolutely as a boudoir! He has no shame, he likes having the space to get ready but also likes to watch his prize wife getting ready.

We all know man is a man of luxury.

He's a king and likes to live like one.

The master bedroom is huge- big enough to make a separate sitting area and dressing room

Which is exactly what he did

For a while it was a place for him to go to- like a man cave of sorts.

He'd smoke his cigars, display his whiskey and cologne, watch football games and such.

But then he met you, and what is a king without his queen?

He moved his man cave to another room in the house and the old room became your boudoir.

He kept his cologne in there though, because you said how much you like smelling it and how you spritz it on when he goes on long business trips.

Lloyd loves watching you go around trying on different outfits

Perhaps it's his voyeuristic kink, or his love of you and your routine

You're just like him in terms of luxury- you have too many clothes to count, twice as many shoes and accessories

Most men would probably complain about that, but not Lloyd

He's happy he's finally found his match in terms of primping and pampering

And not to mention, the love seats and fainting couch is such a fun spot for some dirty play 🫠

Many a times as he taken you in that room and had to get someone to clean up your juices

Because let's be real, as hot as it is he isn't letting anything ruin that room lmao!

#lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x you #my writing #suburban dad sunday

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kazoosandfannypacks · 1 year

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CS Christmas ask, as threatened. ;) 3, 5, 18, 27

threatening me with a good time, I see. :D very well, I accept 😅

3. Favorite Captain Swan scene? I'm gonna go with the one in Regina's vault in season 6, when Emma is stressed about saving her parents and being the savior and facing the evil queen and all these visions she's having- and Killian just takes her hand and says "shhh, love, it's storytime." and he sits her down and retells her the story of how her parents met, and fell in love, and how "true love can break any curse- and so can you, because that's what you're made of." It's such a pure, gentle moment they share, and I cannot get enough of it. It also has the exact same vibes of the song "So Will I" by Ben Platt, which is my comfort song and I associated it with them long before that episode as well

5. What are you most looking forward to this Christmas? Christmas is on a Sunday this year, and I bought a lovely new cherry red dress to wear to church, so I'm fairly excited about that. I'm also excited to give Christmas presents to my family and to see my relatives (we have family in Alaska who will be down to visit around Christmas!)

18. Do you have any Captain Swan Christmas headcanons? First off, I'm a firm believer that Emma is a Halloween person and Killian is a Christmas person- not that there has to be a dichotomy between them like that, but that's absolutely the case. I also headcanon that their first Christmas together was when they were in Camelot (this one's not as much a headcanon as like. Like I've mapped out the timeline on this. I have notes. Emma became a Dark One on approximately December 22, give or take a week's variance on either side. My headcanon is that they actually celebrated Christmas in some way while they were there- we definitely don't see every day of the six weeks they were there) This is less of a captainswan one and more just Killian, but I also have this headcanon as of recent that Hook and Rumple's animosity post-season 6 trickles into some kind of like, rival suburban dads thing and I'm picturing Gold and Killian competing to have the most decorated house for Christmas- which is especially entertaining because Killian knows nothing about electricity but is still determined to best the crocodile in this (he definitely enlists Henry and David's help.) I also like to think that Emma isn't really the best cook, but she tries to do something special for breakfasts on Christmas- probably, like, making pancakes (yes, actually making pancakes, but I know where every CaptainSwan fan's mind went when I said that) and it's just her usual boxed pancakes, but she pours the batter into cookie cutters on the pan so they're Christmas shaped. This kind of becomes tradition, and she even starts changing it up by adding stuff like m&m's to the Christmas tree shaped ones to look like ornaments and sometime cinnamon and cocoa powder in the gingerbread shaped ones to give them a darker color. Also sorry for making this one so long, but I also feel like Henry starts Christmas morning at Regina's. Assuming Christmas existed in Storybrooke, they probably had a lot of years of traditions to continue, and while Emma and Killian love being with their son, they do recognize that they have each other, and all that Regina has is Henry (and Emma knows how much it stinks to be alone on the holidays!) Besides, Killian and Emma certainly don't mind spending a quiet evening together on Christmas eve, with eggnog and mistletoe, probably falling asleep on the couch together in the glow of the Christmas Tree. One last CaptainSwan Christmas headcanon for now- somehow Killian and Henry find out that Emma absolutely loves Christmas trees, despite her initial adamant insistence that she's indifferent towards Christmas. So, one day when Henry's off from school, Killian takes a day off from work to "take Henry sailing-" but instead they go pick out the perfect tree and decorate it to surprise Emma when she gets back- needless to say, she absolutely loves their perfect little Christmas tree, and starts to get a little Christmas spirit herself.

27. What's your biggest Christmas wish this year? I don't have a whole ton of Christmas wishes- I know I can't get the big item I wanted right now, but I'm good without it, and well. I've got a job, I don't have to worry about rent or food because I still live at home, I get to see my family every day and my friends often and I have a lovely group of online friends I can talk with every day. I have free time to express my creative talents and I get to see almost all of my extended family this year! I'd say if I did have a Christmas wish, it would be to see my best friend sometime while she's on Christmas break. We worked at camp together for a while, and became friends after a year or two of not speaking to each other very much [we became friends again specifically because I needed someone to talk about ouat with and she had seen the first couple of seasons- and now she's on season 6 in our watchthrough together that picked up where she left off,] and now she's my closest friend, despite the fact that I've only seen her twice since we started talking to each other again. It's not super important to see her in person, because I'm used to her being more like an internet friend, but it would be so cool to see her in person again for a little bit! We haven't made any plans though, and she lives a couple hours away- and neither of us drive- so it probably won't happen, but that's alright too!

sorry this is such a long response 😅 I did not expect to ramble so much

Captain Swan Christmas Ask Game!

#kazzy answers asks #once upon a time #once upon a time season 6 #ouat #captain swan #christmas #killian jones #emma swan #henry mills #regina mills #david nolan #kazzy rambles

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diematrosen · 9 months

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Barbenheimer: Or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Moviegoing Again

When I first heard that Greta Gerwig's Barbie and Christopher Nolan's Oppenheimer were being released on the same day - July 21, 2023 - I didn't think much of it. After all, wildly disparate movies have been released on the same date before, and in an era before MCU/Disney dominated theaters, cineplexes had a variety of films that catered to many different audiences. The smash superhero sequel The Dark Knight and the ABBA-inspired musical comedy Mamma Mia! were both released on July 18, 2008, but social media was much less of a thing back then. (I've never seen Mamma Mia!, but my Dad and I did see TDK opening weekend.) Honestly? Initially, I didn't think people were really going to see both films on the same day, I thought people were joking. Boy was I wrong.

On their own, both films would have been hits with built-in audiences (love him or hate him, Nolan sure has dedicated fans). But by July 2023, the hype around the Barbenheimer phenomenon had gone nuclear. There were memes, T-shirts, and people bought tickets to see both movies in theaters on the same day, or at least the same weekend. The two have little in common, besides being high-profile studio films starring non-American actors as very American subjects, but that didn't matter.

On opening weekend, my friend and I saw a 70mm print of Oppenheimer on Saturday and a sold-out screening of Barbie on Sunday at the Village East theater in Manhattan, with a day break in-between. We had initially only planned to see the former, but even I was swept up by Barbie mania (I also enjoyed Gerwig's two previous films). There was an energy at the movie theater that I had not felt in a very long time outside of repertory cinema - people were genuinely excited to be there. When I was in line for the bathroom, a woman in front of me joked that you could tell who was there to see which movie. Lots of people in pink, Barbies and Kens abound, and even a few men (and one woman) dressed like J. Robert Oppenheimer, father of the atomic bomb. I did not dress up and I don't care much for the color pink, but it was still fun! It was a record-breaking box office weekend for both films - one a fantasy comedy about the world's most famous doll, the other a 3-hour doomy historical drama showing in premium large formats including IMAX. After a decade and a half of Marvel fare dominating theaters, this was a game-changer. Were superhero movies in their early '90s hair metal era?

I worked at a few movie theaters in suburban New Jersey in the 2000s, and this felt like a return to an era when word of mouth reigned supreme and people got dressed up for midnight screenings (people did this at a screening for one of the Harry Potter films, no lie). The hype also reminded me a bit of Titanic, which dominated the box office in 1997-98 when I was in 8th grade and everyone talked about it (weirdly enough, I did not see it until it was in a second run theater for some reason). But three years after the beginning of the pandemic, I was ready to go back to the movies - one of my favorite pastimes. I had seen a few films in theaters since 2022, once I was fully vaccinated and boosted, but this felt like a new beginning.

I enjoyed both movies and have now seen them twice (including an IMAX 70mm screening of Oppenheimer - if you have the opportunity to see it in this format, do it!). Barbie is charming and fun, with eye-popping production design and costumes and nods to directors like Jacques Demy. Margot Robbie (bringing humanity to a plastic doll) and Ryan Gosling are fantastic, and the film is a genuine crowd-pleaser. Oppenheimer is an intense, well-crafted drama with a few jaw-dropping sequences and a great, controlled performance by Cillian Murphy as Oppenheimer and a stacked cast. The editing by Jennifer Lame is phenomenal, and this might be the best work of Nolan's career. To date, Barbie has crossed the billion dollar mark worldwide, and Oppenheimer has made over $500 million globally - a huge deal for an R-rated talky period piece. Is this the beginning of better, more diverse movies in multiplexes across the world? Or just a weird fluke? Possibly the latter, but we'll see.

That said, the films aren't for everyone. I know people who have seen Barbie but have no interest in Oppenheimer, and that's okay! And if you don't care about either, I would recommend the documentary The Day After Trinity followed by Todd Haynes' Superstar: The Karen Carpenter Story as an alternative, at-home Barbenheimer. It's just nice to see people excited about going to the movies again.

#barbie #oppenheimer #barbenheimer #movies

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bbreaddog · 1 year

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📓

Trevor Wilson becoming a single dad on purpose AU!!!!!! I have a few paths I want to take with this, but I’ll post this version for now:

Trevor and his partner have been trying for a pregnancy for ages. They’ve struggled for quite a few months already. They’ve tried every method and remedy and alternate ways suggested by friends and family and so many doctors. Every test comes back negative. And with every negative comes every frustration. They return to the doctor once more and run some tests. When the doctor says everything looks normal and healthy, Trevor and his partner share a sigh of relief. Then, the doctor turns to Trevor and asks if they could run some tests on him, just in case. He agrees.

That’s when they find that Trevor is infertile.

They’re shattered. Trevor’s dreamt of becoming a dad since long before he and his partner even knew the other existed. Determined, he suggests adoption as a potential path they could take. Partner turns it down, stating with a pained expression on their face that they want the child to be theirs. What about IVF? No, they say with a sigh. They want their baby to be naturally conceived. Trevor bites back a retort that their child would be theirs no matter how they were conceived. He knows it’s from months of pent-up frustration, and arguing will lead to nowhere. Then perhaps, the sperm bank? No, they insist, it has to be theirs. A fight ensues. It drags on for two months. In the end, they decide it’s for the best that they go their separate ways.

Recluse. He doesn’t think about his ex. He doesn’t think about his infertility. He doesn’t think about how it ruined everything, and he doesn’t think about how it was stupid hopeful wishing that they still somehow could have had a happy family together. He doesn’t think about any of that at all.

It’s not until Rose pulls him aside at Julie’s 3rd birthday party for a quiet private intervention that Trevor finally finds it in himself to gather up all his pieces and pull himself together.

He has never been more thankful for the existence of the internet. The next couple weeks see him searching and researching orphanages until he finds a reputable one that’s nearby. They call and email back and forth, discussing all the legalities and formalities before Trevor is finally (finally!) on his way to meet his baby.

In the waiting room, his leg shakes vigorously as he tries to expend all this nervous energy pent up inside. After what feels like hours, he hears a “Mr. Wilson?” and looks up. The orphanage director is standing just in front of the doorway beside the front desk. And behind her, a strawberry blonde girl, no bigger than 3, wearing her Sunday best that includes a hot pink bow in her hair, clutching the pantyhosed calf she’s peeking out from. Trevor melts.

Carrie is only shy for a few minutes, Trevor finds. After a brief introduction to each other, Trevor kneels down to her level and immediately feels a short stubby finger poking the shiny colourful badges on the lapel of his leather jacket and is asked what they mean. Carrie stares at him with bright sparkly eyes as he carefully explains each one. When the topic turns to music, Carrie practically leaps off the ground and immediately shows off by singing her favourite song, accompanied with her own choreography.

When Carrie and Julie meet, they become instant friends. The fresh summer air is filled with squeals as Ray chases the girls around the backyard. Trevor and Rose watch on with equal parts amusement and fondness. Rose tells him how happy he seems nowadays, and makes a light jab at how it still doesn’t hide the dark circles under his eyes from sleepless nights trying to get a toddler to settle into bed. “Could say the same about you,” is what Trevor says with a laugh.

The sky is silent again, save for the few birds chirping merrily under the shades of green, and the gentle whooshing of suburban cars passing by. Ray returns to them with two sleepy girls on each hand dragging their feet beside him. Ray ushers Julie back into the house, and Trevor picks Carrie up and rests her in his lap. Her head falls on his shoulder and she heaves a tired sigh. Trevor’s heart flutters, and he can’t help smiling when he turns to Rose. She returns it with a fond smile of her own.

It’s time to go home, but the Molinas don’t mind the company, and Trevor wants to stay in this moment just a little bit longer.

So they stay.

Send me a book emoji and I'll explain the plot of a fanfiction that I haven't written but daydream about

#ask #fiddlepickdouglas #julie and the phantoms #jatp #trevor wilson #carrie wilson #julie molina #rose molina #ray molina #jatp fic #jatp fanfic #fanfiction #i write things #mine #ask meme #trevor wilson is a single dad on purpose au #or:#adopted!carrie au #This hc has be in a death grip #I’ve been writing this whole plot for the past 2 hours #It’s 1:45am help #i didn’t mean for this to happen like this #ANYWAY I LOVE AND NEED THIS FIC TO HAPPEN #I Will Die On This Hill #trevor LOVES CARRIE SO FREAKING MUCH #Like it is So Impossible to put into words how much this man loves this child #he tries so hard to be a good dad #and it eats him up inside every time teenage Carrie rolls her eyes at him or scoffs at something he says #many many talks with his therapist about his insecurities about whether or not he’s a good parent or not #one of the reasons why he wanted to be a father SO BAD is bc his parents were never present

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