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sp0o0kylights · 1 month

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Wayne takes in a Beat to Shit Steve Harrington after Starcourt as n Owed Favor to Hopper Part 4

Part Three: link

First Chapter (parts 1-3 on tumblr) on A03: Link

The kid was madder than a wet hen.

Just as slippery as one too, when he got like this--music pulsing like a living thing to signal all his rage and upset.

Not like Wayne hadn’t expected it.

He just wished it wasn’t quite so damn loud.

The music had started up almost immediately after Eddie had stormed to his room, startling Steve awake and nearly making Wayne curse for it.

Normally it was a good thing--music meant Eds was willing to listen instead of heading for the hills.

Normally, they didn't have a house guest who looked like he'd gone ten rounds with a bear.

They had a routine for this, was the thing and the music was a key part of it. It worked all the edges off for Wayne, and he'd long figured out that about thirty minutes was a the perfect length of time for Eddie to stew before he could actually talk things through.

Given the hand Harrington put to his forehead, Wayne wasn't eager to give him that thirty minutes.

Not when Steve deserved little peace he could have.

Unfortunately, so did Eds.

Still.

Strutting through the door and demanding to talk right now was a bad move and so, with a sympathetic look given to Steve, Wayne did what he did best

Gave space.

Let Eddie rage, as Wayne got up and shuffled about the kitchen.

Pulled out the soft earplugs he pretended weren’t there for Eds to steal (playing that damn loud guitar all the time could not be good for his ears) and offered them to Steve, before making two cups of what Wayne privately thought was the Munson “chitchat” drink.

One cup of hot water, one packet swiss miss, a small amount of maple syrup drizzled in, topped with little marshmallows they reserved for these types of situations.

Wayne took his time with it, thinking through what he wanted to say.

‘I understand that this is a screen door on a submarine kind of situation...’

Nope.

‘Son I know you hate listening to anyone for anything but this is serious...’

Absolutely not--that would end up with the boy bolting for sure.

‘Ed’s, I love you but could we please turn Ozzy off while we talk? That man wails louder than any damn cat I have ever met.’

That one was purely self indulgent, mostly because the wall was starting to shake.

Wayne put the finishing touches on the cocoa before staring at both of them.

Perhaps if he stared the Garfield mug in its eyes hard enough, the right words would come through.

They did not.

He kept trying, standing there long enough for the cocoa to reasonably have cooled and for Eddie’s song to flip over to something with more screaming in it than singing.

Wayne supposed that this was the hardest part of being a parent. You just didn’t get to have the magical one liner. The right thing to say at just the right time.

The joke that would ease all the tension and let things progress forward nice and easy.

Instead, you got to fumble your way through the dark with a flashlight up your ass and hope you were going in the right-ish direction. Ideally without making things worse.

Wayne was here though, and that had to count for something.

(Knew it counted for something--because Eddie was still here.

They had cleared hurdles far higher than this when it came to trust. They’d get through this too, come what may.

Steve too.)

“Can I just ask,” Eddie started, aggressive as always when Wayne finally gave in and entered his room, feeling all sorts of awful for the migraine Steve had to have, “what the absolute fuck is happening?”

Sure as fire he was sitting on his bed, leg bouncing a mile a minute.

An unlit cigarette hung between two fingers, looking a little chewed on, but otherwise undisturbed--as it should be, because one of Wayne’s few rules was that smoke stayed outside the house.

“You could.” Wayne said loudly but agreeably, as he turned himself around and dropped down next to his kid.

Held out the Garfield mug, and was happy when it was taken from him.

“Figured you might have other things to say, though.”

Likely a lot of things.

It was as good an opening as any, and his kid didn’t disappoint, launching right to it.

“Why is he here and not at a hospital?”

‘Here’ was punctuated by Ed’s hand winging towards the door, and while it wasn’t the righteous fury Wayne expected, it was at least, an easy answer to give.

“Steve has some people looking for him. Bad people. Hospital makes him an easy target.”

Wayne was still talking loud. Could only hear Eddie himself because he was looking at the kid’s lips more than he was actually hearing his voice.

Eddie took that in, swallowing it about as well as he’d swallowed anything he hadn’t liked.

And thank the stars above, he finally reached a hand out and turned the music down. Not a lot--Steve wouldn’t be able to hear them over all this--but enough that Wayne didn’t have to struggle.

“We’re hiding him from the cops now?!” Ed’s spat.

“Cops know he’s here. Hopper’s the one who asked me to take him.” Wayne reminded him, because it was the truth.

Not the full truth, but given how Ed’s pissed off half the local PD on a good day, Wayne absolutely did not want to see his nephew take on Federal Agents.

(Particularly not the kind who were going ‘round killing kids.)

“So--what?” Eddie yanked hard on his hair, a gesture that looked less intentional and more like he was trying to fight his own anger down. “Hopper just called you up and said ‘Hey, we had a whoopsie with the rich kid, the hospital’s not safe anymore. Can we stash him with you for a few days?”

Wayne nodded once, slow-like.

Always remembered how too fast movements had made Eddie flinch and jerk back when was littler, and given the way Steve was looking, figured it was a good time to be cautious again.

“He did.”

“And you just--agreed? Just like that!?”

“I did.”

He pretended not to see Eddie boggle at him at the simple admission, so furious that he seemed to struggle for words when he normally had too many to say.

Wayne took advantage.

“We did talk a bit more than that, I’ll admit.”

Ed’s scoffed. “About the weather I’m sure.”

“‘Bout trust.”

Eddie blinked at that.

“Trust.” He echoed flatly.

“What have I always told you? People like to ask you to trust them, but you they don’t get to have it until--”

“They provide proof or a reason.” Eddie finished with an eyeroll. “So which did Hopper provide then?”

Wayne took a noisy sip of his coca. Smacked his lips a little before saying: “Both.”

Didn’t bother to say anything else, because he knew Eddie would finish the thought for him.

“One of them was me, wasn’t it.”

Eds didn’t say it like a question, but Wayne hummed in agreement anyway.

He wasn’t gonna shame his boy, but he wasn’t gonna sugar coat Eddie’s involvement in this either. Not when he’d already admitted that was half the reason Hopper had gone to Wayne to begin with.

“No one is expecting Steve to be here.” He said, seeing the chance to hammer home the most important part of this entire shitshow. “So long as no one finds out he’s here, he’ll be safe. Everyone will be safe.”

Steve from the Feds who were hunting him for while he was busy being involved in shit he couldn’t control and Eddie because he had a mouth that most people didn’t like.

Not small town people anyway, and absolutely not authority figures with guns.

“Who’s even after him?” Eddie was theatrical as always, hands waving away as he talked. “Did he make a deal with the mob? Piss off some other rich guy? I know it’s not anything drug related, I’d have heard about it by now.”

After years of experience, Wayne knew exactly how far to lean away to stay out of range, too used to his nephew talking with his entire body.

“That’s his story to tell ya, Ed’s. It ain’t mine. Same way it ain’t my place to tell him your story.”

That at least got the boy to think for a minute. Put down that frustration he carried with him all the time, and use the brain they both knew he had.

“How long is he staying here?”

Wayne shrugged. “Don’t know.”

Eddie sighed and mockingly mimicked Wayne, taking an obnoxious slurp of his cocoa. “The neighbors are going to notice if he’s here more than a few days. The trailer park isn’t exactly big.”

“They didn’t notice that time you decided to make fireballs with the cooking spray and about blew up half the driveway. Don’t think they’re gonna notice someone being quiet in the house.”

Eddie snorted, and probably rolled his eyes again, not that Wayne could see it given the kid was looking into his own mug as he thought it all through.

Wayne sat with him as he processed.

Eds worked at his own pace with things, and while life at large might be against that, Wayne was happy to let him do it. Found it easier that way, then trying to poke and prod and force him like so many father figures did.

Wayne’s patience was rewarded not even a full minute later, when Eddie turned to him and asked;

“What if he finds out?”

This in a quieter voice. An unsure one--words and body hunching in a way unlike the Eddie the world outside knew, but very much like the little boy Wayne had brought inside his home.

It took Wayne a moment to connect the dots--he’d been speaking out of the place parents and authority figures often do, and in doing so hadn’t thought much of the fact his nephew had a real secret.

The kind small town minds didn’t like--and would kill him over.

This all wasn’t about Wayne taking in Steve, he realized abruptly. It was that Steve being here meant Eddie couldn’t be himself.

Could not relax in a place he was accepted for who he was, because Wayne knew and made sure Eddie understood he was wanted here, had a place here, regardless of who he loved.

Now, Wayne had gone and removed it.

‘Shit.’

“He won’t.” Wayne said.

Knew that wasn’t enough, and so, promised: “But if he does, I’ll make sure he understands his safety here relies on your own.”

Ed’s chin jerked in a nod, the two of them sitting in silence for a moment before the boy did as he often did when he wanted a hug but felt too awkward to ask for one, and tipped himself into Wayne’s side.

“Thanks old man.” Eddie whispered into his shoulder and not for the first time, Wayne wished things were easier for the poor kid as he put his mug in one hand and hugged his kid with the other.

Hoped that in the future, it would be.

Even if he had to force everyone and everything coming after him--and now Steve--to do it.

(Wondered vaguely, how bad it was that he was already getting as protective as Steve as he was of his own kid.

Probably very, given his kid clearly hated Harrington.)

xXx

Wayne took the first night of Steve’s stay off.

He wasn’t the type to use his PTO lightly. Was used to rationing it for any possible thing Eddie might need him for.

A night up sick when he was younger, to a night spent chasing him down during some of their bad spots--but the last year or so Wayne had slowly realized he hadn’t had to use it much.

He was still careful with it though, precious as it was, and was thankful for it now as it ensured his nephew didn’t murder their house guest.

Or at the very least, didn't sit there pecking at him.

The kid might've failed English a few times, but he had a real gift with words and an even better one with insults.

(Wayne wasn't quite clear on what all the "King" jabs were about, and absolutely did not get why Steve looked far more hurt at the comment about his "sad ass floppy hair" but given the increasingly flat look Steve was throwing Eddie's way, Wayne figured it couldn't be anything good.)

Thankfully a pointed reminder about Steve's injuries had finally gotten them all some peace, enough for Harrington to drop back to sleep--and for Wayne to realize he looked a little too dead while he did it to be comfortable getting any sleep himself.

The kids chest barely moved, and that it ate at Wayne’s until he got up and shoved a hand under his nose.

Felt his breath, and told himself the poor sod was fine.

Hurt, absolutely, but alive.

Over and over again, until the sun had made its rotation in the sky, bringing the morning with it.

‘Better than nightmares, I suppose.’ Wayne figured, as exhaustion scraped at his eyelids.

Those Wayne knew, would come later. When Steve’s brain caught up to the rest of him, and stopping dumping survival chemicals through his battered body.

He'd given up on sleep entirely sometime around 1 am, and now he sat at his small kitchen table, writing out a medication schedule for Harrington so he and the kid both knew when he could have his next Tylenol.

Wasn’t even halfway through it before Eddie made his typically late appearance and blew through his door.

Had his back up from the moment he’d stepped a foot in the kitchen and it didn’t take a genius to see he’d worked himself into a snit again.

Unfortunately for him, whatever scenario that imaginative brain of his had cooked up fell flat to the reality that was the poor kid on the couch.

Steve Harrington was one a hell of a sight.

Didn’t help that he was doing his level best to make himself as small as possible, curled deep into Wayne's ancient couch.

The blankets covered the ribs and hid away most of the damage, but there wasn’t much Steve could do to hide the shiners on his face--or the marks around his neck.

Not when they’d grown worse overnight, practically inviting questions.

It was almost laughable how quickly Eddie ate whatever words he’d prepared, mouth awkwardly chewing around them as if they were tangible.

The less-than-sneaky looks he threw at the younger teen were equally amusing, and if Wayne wasn’t trying to peace keep, he’d have given in and chuckled when Eds split attention caused him to pour half his coffee into the sink rather than a cup.

Looked utterly lost when, after finishing putting his coffee together and grabbing some junk food thing that absolutely was not a breakfast item, he came to stand awkwardly at Wayne's shoulder, openly staring as Steve blatantly ignored him.

Eds didn’t know what to do, and Wayne couldn't blame him.

Seemed to keep thinking he was going to encounter a boy that likely no longer existed, and whose blood tinged specter just made things sad.

Shit like this, Wayne knew, took a man’s ego and warped it, shaping it to something else entirely.

At least for Steve, it seemed that getting wrapped up in whatever mess he had had shaped him for the better, instead of pretzeling him into something worse. That, Wayne thought, spoke to the boy's character more than anything he’d done prior.

(It helped to know what Hopper tolerated and what he didn’t. That he’d vouched for Steve in the same way Wayne knew he’d vouched for Eddie, even if Eddie didn’t yet realize the cop he antagonized so much would do that for him.)

That didn't erase the history his kid had with Harrington, though.

Wouldn't stop him from seeing the old Steve, first.

‘Don’t you got school?” Wayne asked when he decided Ed had stared enough.

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie waved him off, trotting out the door. “Bye old man, house parasite!”

It was clearly a jab, meant to nettle, but Steve barely acted like he heard it.

Wayne rolled his eyes.

“Goodbye, Eds.” He said firmly, much of a warning as he ever gave, and fondly watched his nephew scuttle out the door.

Turned to see how Steve was taking things, and was once again given a reminder that Steve wasn’t doing a hell of a lot other than feeling his injuries.

“I think I promised you a game, son.” Wayne said gently, startling Steve out of the distant, dim look he had trained on the wall.

It wasn’t a lot to offer in terms of a distraction, but it would have to do.

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circe69 · 1 year

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𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐓𝐇 (FEM!READER X SIMON RILEY)

wc: 1.7 - genre: suggestive fluff - narrative: you get snowed in with ghost and a none-working heater. GASP. whatever shall you do to stay warm? muahahah. - warnings: makeout at the end, again, suggestive, other than that nothing.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

"Ghost, Ghost do you copy? Over."

A male's voice booms through your partner's radio, cutting through the loud silence of the blizzard blowing your ears out.

Ghost pressed down on a button after muttering not-so-quiet curses, "Yeah, copy, out." His voice was angry, like it always was, probably upset at the fact that he was stuck with one of the newest trainees, a woman who knew how to shoot but not necessarily where to aim.

"Y/N, you coming?" He demanded over his shoulder. "Yeah, right behind you Lieutenant."

You were slightly terrified, Ghost was the one you didn't want to be stuck with ever, especially stuck with in a snowstorm. The two of you trekked up a giant hill and awaited Captain Price's further instructions, if the signal would even allow.

"Good. There's a safe house up over the hill. It's a log cabin, not in perfect condition by any means, but it'll keep you warm. Over." Price's voice came through staticky, barely comprehensive, but Ghost understood every word.

He sighed, "Roger that." He stayed quiet for a while before asking you, without even turning around, "You hear all that?" You had to swallow to moisten your dry throat before speaking up. "Yes sir." Snow was stuck in your boots, making you yearn for any sort of warm comfort. The weather was unpredictable, meaning neither of you were prepared to be snowed on. You prayed the cabin had hot water and a large supply of soft blankets.

As you neared the house, it was almost pretty. Despite the water damage and evasive vines covering the sides, the snow almost made it seem fairytale-like, from a movie or something. Ghost shook the snow off his boots on the last step and you did the same, trying to act like you knew what you were doing, but you ended up stubbing your toe and silently groaning under your breath.

Entering the cabin, it wasn't any warmer than it was outside. You started to interject but Ghost stopped you mid-sentence, "Don't get your panties in a twist, I need to turn on the AC."

Your jaw still agape at his comment, you watched him throw off his backpack and gear on the nearest couch and storm back outside. While he hopefully fixed the air conditioning, you took it upon yourself to check the place, opening and closing doors, cabinets, turning on the water and smiling at how hot it was. Opening a closet close to the kitchen, you found it to be stocked with pillows and fuzzy duvets, quilts, and towels. You'd never been so excited to see sheets.

Ghost opened the screen door and slammed it, maybe he thought it was easier than just getting your attention by saying your name, "Bad news."

Oh great. "What?"

He sighed before continuing, "AC won't work. Stupid Price must be having himself a ball back at headquarters, laughing with Soap about how bloody freezing we'll be." His sentences turned into mumbles as he walked over to the kitchen sink and turned on the water. He almost groaned at the feeling, and you felt your cheeks flush at the sound.

You said nothing in response but looked back to the closet and chose which blanket, or blankets, you'd wrap around yourself. You reached up to grab a quilt from the top shelf, but when you pulled on it, maybe 5 more came down with it. A few fast footsteps came up behind you, and you felt a presence behind you as they fell on top of you.

You screamed in surprise and turned around to see Ghost was standing with his arms up, trying to support the 20 pounds in blankets. It looked like maybe he tried to catch them, but it didn't work.

Ghost had essentially created a giant tent for you. His body towered over you, and his arms outstretched almost reached the ceiling. You started to belly laugh at the circumstances, but you quieted down when Ghost stayed frustratingly quiet. "What're you laughing about? It's not funny." His statement just made you laugh more, now you were clenching your stomach and bent over, laughing your head off. Ghost's accent was always increasingly stronger when he was angry. You absolutely loved it.

He almost started to smile; you swear you saw it, but before you got a glimpse of his teeth, he got out from under the blankets and left you alone, the weight almost knocking you to the floor. You heard a snicker as he left.

"I'm gonna take a shower, Y/N, feel free to do whatever." You hummed in response, exhausted from folding and putting the blankets back up on the top shelf.

As you heard the water run, you couldn't help but let your mind wander. Sure, I mean, this wasn't the best circumstance you could be in, but maybe Ghost wasn't as awful as you thought. He was definitely attractive and had a sense of humor that he just didn't know how to use, but it was perfect. As you almost smiled to yourself just thinking about it, you heard a banging on the wall, coming from the shower. You jumped in your seat at the noise, and didn't even stand up before you heard Ghost yell, "Hey, get me a towel would ya?" Goodness, he was loud. You could visibly see birds fly away at his screaming.

"Yeah, yeah!" You yelled back, returning to the closet and prepared yourself to open it. Grabbing a white, scratchy towel, you closed the door and made your way to the bathroom, you had to walk through a bedroom to get there. Stepping over Ghost's clothes made your breath accelerate, he'd just left them scattered across the floor.

You knocked on the bathroom door, "Come in," was the only response you got. It was gruff, demanding. You'd be scared not to. Steam poured out as you opened the door, not sure where to look and where not to.

"Here," you said quietly, your brain feeling fuzzy at the thought of Ghost in the shower. You saw his arm outstretch from behind the curtain, wet fingers ready to grip the towel. You stared at them for a minute before his hand flexed, signaling you to give it to him. After handing him the towel, "Thanks," was all he said.

You didn't know what to say, so you stumbled on your words as you spoke, "Is the water hot at least?"

Ghost laughed deeply, making your stomach churn, "Smoking." You chuckled awkwardly before bolting out of the bathroom, unable to make any more small talk that close to his naked body. How could anyone?

You heard the water turn off and climbed under your covers on the rickety couch, if Ghost were to come out, you'd pretend you were asleep and had been for a while. You could hear his bare feet pad across the hardwood floor, his clothes being slid on and all the yawns and quiet groans escaping his mouth.

He opened the bedroom door and your eyes slammed shut. "Oi."

You said nothing, but you could sense him getting closer to the couch. "I know you're not asleep, there's no way anyone could on that thing."

One eye blinked open to find Ghost's face hovering over yours from behind the couch. His wet hair dripped onto your face, and he hesitatingly wiped it off with his fingers. "Sorry 'bout that," he whispered.

"S' fine," you whispered back, shamelessly staring at every part of his face.

"Let me sleep here. You already complain about your back all the time. Don't need anymore."

You rolled your eyes and closed them again before turning over on your pillow, your back now facing him. "No way, I was here first."

He scoffed, "Unbelievable. I'm trying to be a gentleman."

Ghost started to walk away before you rolled your eyes once more and jumped up from the couch, making a run for the bedroom with a pillow under your arm. "What the-," Ghost said as you ran past him. You jumped on the bed and immediately sighed when you pulled the covers up, "It's freezing, it'd be stupid not take advantage of human warmth. It's like, the only thing we're good for."

Ghost cocked an eyebrow and slowly walked to the other side of the bed with his arms crossed over his huge chest. "The only thing, huh?" He got underneath the covers carefully after shutting the last lamp off, and you shivered as his skin brushed against yours.

"Ghost, you're freezing!" Your teeth chattered for dramatic effect, and he placed a hand on the back of your neck just to make you squeal. You did just that, giggling and trying to peel his freezing hand away but it was no use; he plastered his other hand on the other side of your head to hold himself up as his hand warmed up from your skin.

"I guess you're right, warmth is the only thing you got going f' ya, isn't it?" He teased, and you slapped his arm. "How dare you." You whispered.

His arm rested on your bare waist, even though it took a long time for it to get there. Ghost was never good with women, touch, admiration of any kind, but he'd be willing to embarrass himself for you. You squirmed slightly at the feeling, but allowed yourself to scooch closer to him, taking his touch as words in and of itself. Come closer. Touch me back.

Your hand slowly made its way up his bicep, squeezing every so often at the muscle. His eyes were low and hooded as they watched you watch him, feel him. Once you looked up at him, your arms now wrapped around his neck, you could feel his breath on your mouth; that's how close your faces were. You watched his lips, open and close, his tongue licked his bottom one, and that was all you needed.

You took ahold of him, putting your lips on his. It was slow at first, careful, gentle. Until your hands drifted up his neck and into his hair, tugging lightly, and it elicited a soft groan from him. You opened your mouth, and Ghost followed after you. Now he was greedy, hungry, starving. His tongue swept across your lips first before making contact with your own tongue. You broke from the kiss, slightly panting and lips swollen. You suddenly realized how hot it had gotten, and so had Ghost.

"See? Human warmth." You said into Ghost's neck after burying yourself into him. You felt his jaw flex, most likely from a smirk, and he pulled the covers up over both of you. "Whatever."

#ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x y/n #modern warfare #simon riley fluff #ghost fluff #simon riley x you #circe69scribbles

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boydepartment · 4 months

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hot tea with honey- nishimura riki x reader

a/n: hi :3 this was requested from one of my anons <3 it was super cute and a nice write especially after one 8 page final essay and another 1.5 page essay so this was a nice breath of fresh air

warnings: fluff, they fall down a snowy hill lolz, reader described as cute and bubbly

MASTERLIST

wc- 400-550

you were absolutely positively not good with the cold. you loved winter though. you absolutely adored the snowflakes falling and watching it from inside

your boyfriend on the other hand, loved to go outside and play games.

so here you were looking at your boyfriend putting on his jacket and whipping around to look at you.

“y/n…. pleaaaaaaase just go take a walk with me!!! that’s it!”

you looked at him, “baby i don’t know… i’m really bad with the cold…” you mumbled and looked down at your feet. riki walked over to you, his boots making loud noise, with little jingles signaling he already had his keys on him. he cupped your face and made you look up at him.

“i pinky promise i will keep you warm.” how could you say no to him?

you felt yourself smile before rushing off to get your jacket and winter wear. you found your jacket, scarf, and boots and put them on quickly.

when you skipped back riki was already giggling and opening the door for you, after readjusting his your hat and scarf.

you guys walked along the river together swinging your hands back and forth. the snow stopped falling for a little bit and you could hear soft chatters from people farther away. distant cars and water from the river sloshing could be heard in the background too. the scene was peaceful, even if it was freezing.

“what was with the wild hair that made you want to go outside today?” you asked, looking up at your boyfriend. riki was extremely bundled up, he had his big hat and jacket on and you could see his breath through his mask. his boots still clinking against the cold pavement.

“hmmm i dunno…” riki’s eyes were crinkled meaning he was smiling.

you looked at him, “what? you’re smiling!” you lightly shoved him, giggling, “you’re thinking about something mischievous!”

riki looked down at you, “nothing your winter clothes are just cute.” he thought everything about you was bubbly.

you looked at him, “shut it- no way that’s what you were thinking!” you laughed and bumped into him again, riki was feeling mischievous and ‘pretended’ that he was falling- taking you down with him.

before you knew it you were being pulled down to the snow with him. falling down a small hill near the riverbank.

“riki!” you shrieked when you both stopped falling. he started laughing uncontrollably. you both laid in the snow, you on top of him.

“you are so…” you shook your fist back and forth before laughing. he was still laughing when he softly grabbed your fist and pulled down his mask so he could kiss your hand.

“your hands are so cold…” he mumbled, “i’m sorry i broke my pinky promise.” riki frowned, part of him did feel a little bad.

you looked at him with fake sympathy, “awww baby it’s okay…” you leaned down to kiss him, “i don’t blame you…”

but before your lips met, you grabbed a handful of snow and dropped it on his face before getting up and trying to run up the hill you both previously fell down.

riki sat up and watched you try to get up the hill. he started giggling and you whipped around.

“what??” your brows were furrowed and you put your hands on your hips.

he got up and started to help you up the hill, “nothing you’re just cute like i said. let’s get back inside, your hands are still freezing.” he smiled down at you and you kissed his lips softly before putting his mask up. grinning up at him, riki took a moment to process you. he felt his chest bubbling up, riki knew he was in love with you he just hadn’t told you yet. dating was one thing, but love! that made him nervous.

“yeah you owe me a hot drink now.” you spoke while riki was lost in thought.

“oh do i?” riki asked as you both started walking back, the snow started to fall softly again. landing in your hair where it peaked out of your hat.

you nodded, “i want a hot tea…” you perked up, “with honey!”

riki was grinning underneath his mask, he looked down at you, eyes full of love and adoration, “hot tea with honey… noted…”

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ambcass · 4 months

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Can I request Bruce Wayne x kid reader, where the reader is really shy and hardly talks to anyone, and when they meet someone new, the reader hides behind Bruce's leg. The reader is clinging to Bruce, like a lost puppy, but at some point Bruce has to leave and the reader has a full on melt down, crying and screaming. Trying to find Bruce, the reader somehow escapes the manor and tries to look for Bruce, but they get overwhelmed with the people and the cars. Luckily Gordon finds the reader and recognizes, so he calls Bruce. Later Bruce and the whole Family arrive, and Bruce never leaves the reader ever again.

OMG I ACIDENTALLY DELETED AN INBOX!! IF U MADE THE PERCY JACKSON ONE IM SORRYYY :(((

anyways request pls :)

"And who is this cutie?" a woman wearing a red dress points to you. You were on Bruce's side, lost in a trance before you heard that woman address you. You quickly hid behind Bruce and peeked your head out. Bruce looked behind him and smiled.

"This is ___. They're a bit shy but once you get to know them, they are a bundle of joy." The woman stepped closer and extended her arms.

"Awe, come give me a hug," she said in a warm tone. You backed up, furrowing your eyebrows. Bruce stopped her and started explaining how you didn't come from a great environment before meeting him. The woman pouted but respected your past.

"Poor baby...I'm so sorry," She placed her hands on her chest. "I'll leave you two alone now. I'll see you later Mr. Wayne" She winked at Bruce and then left. You came out of hiding, you held on to his hand. Bruce gave you the "okay" signal, meaning that he was done with this gala, and it was finally time to go home. The two of you walked out of the "palace" and headed to the limo. The windows rolled down, and Alfred was there to greet the two of you. Bruce opened the door and you leaped into the car.

"Alfred, Alfred! Can we please, please, please go home" you whined and shook your legs. Bruce got in the car and closed the door. Alfred giggled and started driving away.

"I take it that your trip was fun?"

"Not even. We have so much in common, the two of us hate galas," Bruce answered and turned towards you. "Isn't that right,___?" You nodded. For you, the ride took so long that you started falling asleep. Your eyes couldn't keep open and eventually, you closed your eyes and fell asleep.

Once you arrived back to the manner, Bruce carried you back. Placing you on your bed until you wake up. Waking up, your vision slowly started to clear up as you walked out of your room.

"B-bruce...," you called out. "Bruce! Where are you?" your heart started to beat faster and faster. You ran down the stairs calling for Bruce and Alfred but no response. Walking back and forth, running in circles through the manner.

You knew it was a bad idea, but you did it anyway. You left the manner to search for him, the both of them. Ran down the hill, heading for the streets, cars were running at 50 mph but you didn't care that you were going to get hurt. You just wanted your dad.

At this point, you're out of breath. You sat down on the side of the crosswalk. Tears flood your eyes. You start hyperventilating. Breathe. You told yourself. Breathe. That's what Dad would want. You felt a tap and jolted up.

"___? What are you doing here? Where's your dad?" A guy in his mid-40s looked down at you. It was Commissioner Gordan. You went to give Gordan a big hug as you sobbed in his arms.

"W-where's Bruce. I can't find him!" you cried out. Gordan stroked your hair, trying to calm you down.

"It's going to be okay, we'll find him...I'll give him a call, alright?" His soft expression made you realize that you were safe. Safe from everything from the outside world. Godan gave Bruce a call and minutes later he arrived. The moment you saw him, you ran towards him and wrapped your arms around his waist.

"What are you doing out of the house?" Bruce asked. You did nothing but ramble countlessly about how much you missed him and Alfred. A person emerges out of the car and speaks,

"Hey sweetie, what can your big brother do to help you feel better?" Your oldest brother, Dick Grayson came out from the car. You took a look in the car and saw the other three. Jason, Tim, and Damian.

"The others are gonna arrive at the manner later. Meanwhile how about us four spend time with our little sister. How does that sound?" Dick asked and you nodded. You entered the car and Bruce followed.

"After today, I won't ever leave my little girl at home alone ever again."

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toxicanonymity · 10 months

Text

Close (can read alone)

2.7k, raider!Joel x f!reader | raider master, joel

mood board by @milla-frenchy , stitches edit by @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

“You’re okay, baby” he whispers, more to himself than to you. Both arms are around you and one hand cradles your head. “You’re safe,” he says as he brings you up and down his length. His grip around you tightens and his movements become more aggressive. The hand that cradles your head begins to fist your hair.

SUMMARY: Two men come to the trailer before Joel gets home, and for a second, Joel thinks you're shot. He fucks you hard from the adrenaline. You give Joel stitches and tell him how you feel. Then you do it missionary (for the first time?)

WARNINGS: I8+; unsafe P in V (x2); light manhandling; canon-typical violence; angst; dark fluff; reader can sit on joel and her hair can be pulled; pet names and praise; no use of y/n.

One morning, Joel is making coffee and you're sitting in the nook by the window, behind the little kitchen table. He brings his coffee to the table and tells you he's going on a dangerous trip. It's all hands on deck, so he's gonna have to leave you by yourself. He hands you a gun. The same one you used on the girl.

He takes you outside. "Remember how to fire it?" He taught you how within days of when he first plucked you out of your life and set you in his. You stand up and show him how you aim it. He gets behind you and helps adjust your form, but it doesn’t need much adjusting.

After you lower the gun, he rests a hand on your head and says, "If somebody threatens you, tries to take you, tries to touch you, you shoot'em." You nod.

"Good girl."

You're scared about his plans. If Joel considers it dangerous, you can't even imagine. He's never said anything like this before, like something might happen to him, despite all the stuff you know he gets up to. He can tell you’re worried and asks what's wrong.

"What if you don't come back?"

"I'm gonna come back."

He doesn't come back that day, even well after you hear the vans return. You’re worried and don’t know what you’d do without him. If he’s hurt or in trouble, you want to help him. You want to find him even if it means you get hurt. You have this terrible thought, and you know it's irrational, but you can't push it away - you’d rather be with him and hurt than away from him unharmed.

You know it's risky to go down to the house with all the men there. You’re waiting for the vans to leave and thinking of walking down the hill alone when you hear unfamiliar footsteps outside the trailer. You get the gun ready and make sure the safety is off. When the footsteps are at the back of the trailer you peer out the front window and, thank God, in the flickering flood light, you see Joel crest the hill with a bloody face.

He sees you in the window and raises his rifle. His eyes sweep the area. You signal with your hands that there are guys around back. He holds out his hand as a stop sign then puts his finger over his lips. He raises his rifle and crouches down as he goes around the side of the trailer out of view.

You hear a gunshot and splatter, then a scuffle. Joel and another man are grunting. Joel interrogates him about whether there are any more of them around, landing a blow after each time he asks him. Then finally, another gunshot, but Joel doesn't come inside. You hear the sound of a body being dragged. It drowns out any footsteps. Your heart tells you Joel is alive, he's the one dragging the body, but you won't feel okay until you see him.

After at least ten minutes of silence, you can’t stand it anymore. He should’ve at least come to the window so you’d know he was okay. You creep out of the trailer, gun in hand, closing the door softly behind you. You go around to the side where you heard the struggle. There's still a body on the ground. You start looking for a trail - drag marks in the dirt, flattened grass. Something you could follow to get to Joel.

Then you hear a gasp and a groan behind you. You jump and shriek at the top of your lungs. You turn around and the "body" isn't dead, it's on its knees behind you, lunging for you. "JOEL!!!" you scream. Then you walk backwards, aim the gun, and fire a shot between the man's eyes. You run back to the trailer and crouch down hiding, suddenly afraid you might have attracted someone else's attention. The front of the trailer doesn’t provide any cover with that light on, so you hesitate to go in the front door just yet.

—-----

“SWEET PEA!” When Joel comes into view, he's running, holding his rifle, ready to shoot. There's a look on his face you've never seen on him before – fear. He looks panicked. "Oh, god," he says to himself before he sees you, then booms, "WHERE ARE YOU BABY?"

"Here," you croak and only then realize you're crying and shaking.

He rushes over to you and crouches down at your level. "You're okay, you're okay." You can see his pulse pounding in his neck. He puts his rifle behind his back and hugs you so tight it hurts, then grabs you, forcing you to your feet roughly. He drags you inside.

—---------

He sits you down on a chair at the kitchen table.

"What happened," he asks urgently as he takes off his gun. He pries the pistol from your hands.

"He wasn't dead." You take in the extent of Joel's facial injury, and he's bleeding badly from the forehead. You reach out to touch it and he dodges you.

"Why'd you go out there," he demands gruffly.

"Are you mad," you sob.

He takes in your face, then his expression softens and he shakes his head. " No," he says, still catching his breath. "Fuck, it don't matter sweet pea." He holds you by the back of the head and puts his forehead against yours for a few seconds. Your tears are dropping onto the hem of your dress, diluting a spot of bloodsplatter.

Joel pulls back, chest still heaving, and palms himself over his jeans. "C'mere," he says and urgently grabs you off your chair and pulls you into straddling him. He quickly wipes his own blood off your forehead with his thumb. You wrap your arms around his neck and he unbuttons and unzips his jeans. He takes his hard cock out, gathers saliva in his mouth, then looks down to his lap and spits on it. Then he wraps an arm around you, holding you into his chest, and lifts you up to get clearance. He pulls your panties to the side and you gasp as he impales you.

“You’re okay, baby” he whispers, more to himself than to you. He holds you with both arms around you with one hand cradling your head. “You’re safe,” he says as he brings you up and down his length, stretched by his cock. His grip around you tightens and his movements become more aggressive. The hand that cradles your head begins to fist your hair. He breathes vocally, then he groans as he forces you all the way down. He keeps you down, with all of him inside you, filling you all the way up. His hips rock up into you and he comes in record time, pulsing enormously against your walls, so many times you lose count. It's like he just needed to plant himself in you, feel that you're real, you’re truly still there, and claim you all over again.

He puts his head against yours as he catches his breath. Then he brushes your forehead with his thumb again and looks back and forth between your eyes. You don't let yourself try to kiss him. He clears his throat and says, "Go clean yourself up. I've gotta dump that guy. Won't take me too long."

"Ok."

"Lock the door." He helps you off his lap and when his cock slides out, a mess of cum comes with it.

—----

There’s blood and grime on your face from contact with Joel’s. You take a shower and lay down on the bed in your nightie. Joel staggers in wordlessly, locks the door, puts his gun down on the table, and goes straight to the bathroom. “Shit,” he mutters to the mirror. The sink turns on. While he's in the bathroom, you go to the kitchen table where he left the light on and you wait for him.

He emerges with a washcloth, bottle of liquor, sewing needles and thread, scissors and tape. The scissors are bloodstained. He haphazardly sets it all on the table, then sits down in a chair next to you. Now that the dirt is gone you can see he has quite a gash across his eyebrow and it's still bleeding. He's sweatier than you've ever smelt him.

"Can ya sew me up or got a weak stomach?" He pours some of the liquor onto the cloth and dabs his eyebrow. Then he takes a swig of it.

You don't want to sound too eager but you want nothing more than to help him. “I'll do my best.” You sterilize and thread the needle and he dabs the wound again, then lays his head on the table for you. He barely flinches as you stitch him up.

“You’ve done this before,” he says.

“Yeah.” You cut the string then dab the stitched wound with alcohol. “We shouldn’t tape it yet.”

He sits up and looks at you. “Do I look scary now?” he smiles.

You shake your head. It actually looks sexy.

"I was afraid you weren't gonna come home," you say. "I'm glad you did."

He scans your face and his eyes seem to glisten. “Me too, baby. C’mere.” He lets you into his lap facing him and he gives you a tight squeeze.

"I was scared," you whimper.

He strokes your back and says, "Shhhhh.”

You keep thinking, what if he didn't come home. You know he won’t say it back, but you still need him to hear it. You can't resist whispering, “I love you."

His body tenses. He pulls back and studies your eyes for a few seconds. He takes a deep breath. His voice is more gentle than his words. “Damnit, sweet pea.”

He gently nudges you out of his lap and you sit back down in the chair next to him. He takes your hand in his and looks down at it as he brushes his thumb lightly across your knuckles. When he looks at you again, he’s squinting. His mouth is moving like he's fighting with his tongue. He opens his lips, but doesn’t speak. You wait patiently for his rejection. His face hardens, then he looks you over.

His eyes and voice are soft, but his tone is cautionary and his words are careful. "You belong to me, baby. It’s not how you think."

That wasn't too bad. Somehow it wasn’t as bad as the time you kissed him. You could leave it at that, maybe offer a "yes sir" to show you understand the power dynamic, and move on with no harm done, but that's not what you do. You can’t resist protesting, "can't I belong to you and also love you?"

He's silent for a few more seconds as he reads your face then swallows. "Ain't gonna tell' ya what to feel," he grumbles and looks away again.

Against your better judgment, you continue, "but you don't love me, right? I get it."

He breathes in deeply through his nose and you worry for a second that you’ve pushed him too far again until his gaze meets your sad eyes. He's silent, but his eyes are reaching out for you. You can feel it: his heart won't let him say he doesn't love you.

He breaks the silence. "I think you're confused, baby. That's all." He brings your hand to his mouth, kisses it, tells you to go to bed.

By the time Joel finishes showering and getting ready for bed, you're half asleep. He doesn't put any clothes on before he comes to bed.

He throws the covers off, uncurls you from your fetal position, and puts you face-up on your back. You observe the silhouette of his naked body looming over you like you’ve never seen him before. He pulls your nightie off like he's undressing a doll. He’s hungry in a different way now. You can feel it in the way he’s moving. He gets between your legs and buries his face in your chest, nosing at your nipples then sucking them hungrily. His beard scratches you painfully, and it feels good, like anything from him.

He spits on his hand and reaches down between you to add it to your growing wetness and guide his tip inside you. He shudders as he shoves himself into you and bottoms out in one go, enrobed in what remains of his own cum and the tight hug of your walls. He retreats and your legs wrap around him. He plunges even deeper and grunts. He looks down at your face, but after a moment of eye contact he abruptly yanks his eyes up to the wall behind the bed. He braces a hand on the wall and curls his other hand over your shoulder, holding you down toward him to stop you from riding up the mattress and hitting your head with his powerful thrusts.

You gasp and moan and watch the outline of his naked body flexing each time he moves his hips forward. He’s spent from the day and night, you can tell. But he’s still releasing some kind of tension. and meanwhile, you feel it gradually building deep in your belly. After a few minutes of railing you, he pauses to rotate so you’re diagonal across the bed. He brings his forearms down on the mattress and fucks you missionary with his naked body on yours.

With his pelvis grinding into yours, the rub on your clit is nearly too much. He begins to bury his length in you slowly, except for the moment he bottoms out each time with an animalistic punch from his hip flexors.

“Joel,” you gasp. “I–Joel,” you whimper and your hips lift into him, seeking even more contact. The tension releases all at once. As your body writhes under his, you whimper his name again.

His face is hovering over yours as he continues to slowly fuck you through your orgasm. You restrain yourself from trying to kiss him. He gets up on his hands, triceps bulging. He hangs his head and watches your body take him, your breasts jiggling with each punch of his cock. Then he lowers himself again. He bites and sucks your neck, marking you up as his length fills you to the brim.

He whispers, “god damn, you feel good like this” then slides his hands palm-up under your upper back to hold onto your shoulders from underneath, resting his weight on his forearms. “Fuck,” he breathes and slams into you hard a few more times. Then he groans as he plunges to the hilt and begins to pulse. He lowers his bare chest against yours and slowly thrusts twice more as his balls empty. He rests some weight on you for a second and all your skin against all of his feels like something really special before he pulls out and rolls over onto his back.

He lies there apart from you for a minute, then whispers, “c’mere,” and slides his hand under your neck. You move closer and he pulls you right up against him. You’re facing away and your back is flush with his side. Your neck rests on his bicep and your head on his pillow. He falls asleep quickly.

You wake up in the middle of the night and he's holding you tighter than ever. "Joel, I can't – I can't breathe." You cough and pry his arm loose. He relaxes and you take in a deep breath as he presses a kiss into the back of your neck. A kiss he'll forget while the feeling lingers on your skin for days. You wish you could understand why, but you’ll take the kiss. You're still savoring it when he kisses your neck again. Then he gently cups your breast and sighs, "sweet pea," in his sleep.

--------

thank you so much for reading and engaging! your reblogs and comments and discussion mean a lot, ESPECIALLY SINCE IT GOT A LABEL RIGHT AWAY lol <3

#9 is planned / has a scene written.

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All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @milla-frenchy @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @am-3-thyst @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal fic #dark!Joel Miller #possessive!joel miller #raider!Joel Miller #joel miller/you #toxicanonymity ☠️#raider!joel #raider!joel miller #pedro pascal characters #tw flashing #pedrostories #the last of us #the last of us smut #content label

963 notes · View notes

bless-my-demons · 10 months

Text

Redamancy: Chapter Eight

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: None except for like one cuss word

Notes: Hot off the press - I just spent my day packing my house up to move tomorrow and I’m up past midnight to get this out... You guys have been so freaking supportive and I’m excited for this story to pick up!

Word Count: 3158

Series Masterlist

• March 11th, 2005 • Forks High School •

Reader

“Emotions.” Jasper says by way of greeting, placing his backpack on the picnic table that no doubtibly contains his art supplies.

“Everyone has them, yes?” I reply, my forehead wrinkling in confusion at his peculiar single-word statement.

“I can control them.” He answers, visibly nervous as if he were afraid he just opened a can of worms.

I watch him pull out his well-worn sketchbook and pencils as I decide how to respond to this new bit of information.

“Say something, doll.” Jasper looks almost pleading, worry setting in on his face.

“How does it work?” I question him, I’m in shock that he volunteered such important information in the middle of a school day at lunch as if it were a typical topic to talk about.

“Well, it started off as just being able to sense the emotions of humans and vampires in my vicinity,” he lets out a sigh as he begins shading whatever it is he’s working on. “Then I quickly figured out I can influence them. I can either enhance what someone is already feeling, take away their emotions altogether, or replace them entirely and give them something completely different.”

“W-wow,” I stutter, “that’s honestly impressive.” I raise my eyebrows as his eyes meet mine.

“I can also do small things since I’ve had time to hone my power, like it’s easy to find people I’m familiar with in a crowded area, within a reasonable distance. As long as I can get to know the person, orient myself with their emotions, it’s quite easy.” He glances down at his drawing as he finishes his explanation.

“That has to be rough, feeling everything everyone else is feeling all the time. You can turn it off though, right?” I muse out loud, I can’t imagine having a power that doesn’t come with an ‘off’ switch.

“Unfortunately I can’t, my family is usually pretty good at regulating the intensity of their emotions when we’re gathered at home. At school though… Sitting out here alone with you during lunch is a welcome reprieve.” Jasper turns back to his sketch as he admits that last tidbit of information.

“Do any of your other siblings have super powers like you?” I tease him, not ready to dive into that nugget of information about how spending time with me makes him feel.

“Rosalie and Emmett don’t, neither do Carlisle and Esme. Unless you want to count the staggeringly strong self-control my adoptive father possesses.” Jasper pauses, “Alice can see the future, subjectively though - she has to be searching for that person’s intent and as long as they make a decision, she can see it and the immediate effects. Edward on the other hand, can-“ but he’s interrupted by the bell signaling the end of the lunch period.

“You’re not off the hook now that you’ve enlightened me, I expect to finish this conversation.” I tell him as I stand and meet him on the sidewalk leading towards the school building.

“I would never leave business unfinished with a lady.” He says rather cheekily, trying to get a rise from me, but all it earns him is a huff of a laugh as we walk in a comfortable silence.

“Thank you for sharing that information with me, I promise not to tell anyone.” I vow soberly, meeting his eyes as we stand outside of my next class.

“I was never worried.” Jasper replies, backing away as students finish milling about in the hallway. “See you in History, darlin’.”

I could feel his eyes on me as I stood in front of my open locker, quickly shuffling through the books I needed for my last class of the day. It’s almost like his gaze seemed to burn me alive as I felt it travel across my skin, the hair on the back of my neck rose due to my heightened state of awareness I had towards this gorgeous man. Does he know the effect he has? Is he even aware that I am utterly at his mercy? I hate to fall in line with all the other girls that must throw themselves at his feet, most of them much prettier than I, so why me? Why does he want to take me on a date?

I glance over my shoulder in the direction I know his own locker is in and sure enough, liquid gold is locked onto its target. A steady unwavering gaze stares back, so solid and intense that it constricts my chest for a moment with the pure force of it.

I turn back to my locker and grab a pen before slamming the door shut, the warning bell signaling one minute before everyone still occupying the hallway is tardy. As I turn to hurry my way to History, Jasper has made his way to stand right behind me.

“Do you like baseball?” He blurts out quickly, as if to not lose his nerve.

“It’s probably the only sport I understand, so yeah. Why?” I counter, tilting my head in question.

“My family and I were thinking of playing a game Sunday. Would you like to tag along and spectate? Bella Swan will be there, I’m sure she would love your company.” Jasper tacked on the last part as if I needed more reason to go than just spending time with him.

“As if I could say no to you and your family.” I tell him with a smile.

“Good, so you’ll want to meet them tomorrow?” He asks with more confidence than the last request, slowly taking steps backwards down the empty hall and I gravitate with him.

My mind blanks, not prepared to be sprung with such a big step in… whatever is happening between us. First he tells me he wants to take me out on a date, now I’m meeting his family? Is this some lucky alternate universe where the insanely attractive boy falls for the incredibly average girl?

No-no way, friends bring their friends over to meet their entire family before a family outing, right?

“I-I-uh-“

“Noon tomorrow, they’ll love you.” Disappearing around the corner of the hallway with a smirk in place, probably because I was gaping at him in the middle of an empty hall.

I glance around - an empty hallway! I’m late for class! I can’t even be mad, Jasper Hale has effectively monopolized my weekend and I’m more than happy about it.

• March 11th, 2005 • Home •

Reader

“Hey, mom?” I ask, poking my head in her open bedroom door.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Putting down the book she was reading and pushing up her reading glasses, my mother sits up in bed to give me her full attention.

“So,” I take a seat at the end of her bed, “Jasper Hale invited me to his house tomorrow, to have dinner with his family and just hang out I guess.”

“Oh?” My mother sounds intrigued, eyebrows raising. “A date with a cute boy?”

“Not a date!” I immediately correct her, “it’s just dinner, or whatever.”

She laughs as I pick at her bedspread. “Honey, of course you can go, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Well…”

“Well, what?” She questions.

“He also asked if I wanted to play baseball Sunday with his fa-“

“You? Play baseball?” She blurts out, incredulously.

“Mom!” I draw out the word. “He’s invited me to hang out with his family this weekend - you’ll be cool, right? When he picks me up? No interrogating?”

“Me? Interrogate the cute boy stealing my daughter for a weekend? I wouldn’t dream of embarrassing you.” She teases me with a wink.

I stand and begin to leave, “You are insufferable, woman.”

“I love you, sweetheart!” She yells after me as I round the corner to my room. Flopping onto my bed with a smile, I’m both giddy and equally nervous for the next two days.

• March 12th, 2005 • Cullen Residence •

Reader

“This is my adoptive father Carlisle and his wife Esme.” Gesturing to the two beautiful adults patiently waiting in the foyer as we walk in their home.

Thankfully my mom was at work when Jasper picked me up, giving me another day to prepare myself for the potential train wreck of them meeting tomorrow.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Cullen.” I give them a smile as I shake their hands.

“Trust me dear, the pleasure is all ours!” Esme responds excitedly, her smile wide and beaming.

“The others are in the living room, beware of what you’re throwing her into.” Carlisle warns Jasper with a smile.

Throwing me into? I glance up at Jasper with my brows furrowed, a little concerned.

“C’mon, I’ll protect you.” He jokes with me, I must be missing the punchline.

As he leads me to the living room in his house, I gape at the beautiful artwork spaced throughout. “This is gorgeous, Jasper.”

“Esme is pleased you like it.”

Not having heard his mom speak, I turn from where I was ogling a painting that appeared to be ancient. “But she-“

“Can hear you from her study and I can feel her emotions, remember?” He winks at me, show off.

Finally we walk into the space where his siblings are and I realize what Carlisle meant: Mario Kart.

Alice and Emmett are sitting on the edge of the couch, deep in concentration while Rosalie seems bored from her perch in the corner by her significant other.

“You’re fucking cheating!” Emmett bellows, frantically mashing buttons on his controller.

“It’s not cheating if you’re playing someone that sucks.” Alice taunts him, a wicked grin on her face.

“You can see the future Alice, cut him some slack.” Jasper chides his sister as he leads me to an empty section of the couch.

My eyes widen in amusement as I observe the small dark haired girl, “That’s right! You can-“

“See everything I try to do!” Emmett yells, frustration setting in as his character is hit with a shell.

It’s almost laughable, Emmett’s character Bowser and Alice as Princess Peach. I sit down next to Jasper, a few inches between us as I cross my legs and he lays an arm behind me on the back of the couch. I try to keep my breathing even as I sit here, but the excitement to be spending time with him is almost overwhelming.

I watch as Princess Peach zaps the other players into miniature size and Rose reminds Emmett not to throw yet another remote at the ground, when Jasper leans in close.

“Want a tour of the house?” He asks in a whisper, creating goosebumps down my arms.

“Yes.” I respond, probably sounding breathless, but he’s standing and offering his hand before I have the chance to feel embarrassed.

“And this is my room.” His tour coming to an almost close, since I’m still patiently waiting for a peak at all their cars.

I walk in the doorway he pointed to, stopping just inside. My eyes were immediately drawn to the bookshelves lining the wall opposite of the floor-to-ceiling windows that seemed to be a theme throughout the house. His room was much darker than all the others, warm and inviting with the shades of black and dark wood tones. Stepping closer and skirting the immaculately made king size bed, my eyes close in on some familiar titles on the shelves.

“I always see you reading and since I have quite a bit of free time, I thought I’d pick up a few.”

I turn to look at him with my mouth parted in surprise at his thoughtfulness, his hands are clasped behind his back like he’s bashful for getting found out.

“Jasper-“ but he interrupts me.

“The garage is next.” I watch him turn on his heel and disappear down the hallway.

I look down and brush my fingers on his black comforter as I smile to myself before following him, so Jasper Hale isn’t immune to his own feelings - he just doesn’t like to show them.

Walking into the garage, my eyes skip over the beautiful cars and land on a sleek little thing in the back. A Ducati 848 to be exact, it draws me in like a magnet. Immediately I knew it had to belong to Jasper, no one else seemed like the type. Rose had her red convertible, Emmett had his Jeep, and Edward had his mom-car. Alice and Esme didn’t bother with vehicles and Carlisle had a reasonable, albeit expensive, commuter.

“Wow,” my voice quiet as my fingers brushed the gas tank, “I’m impressed, Hale.”

“You know bikes?” Jasper asks with a hint of curiosity.

“Not really, but I know enough to know that this Ducati is basically a rocket and that it must’ve cost you a pretty penny.” I replied, eyes still glued to the beautiful machinery. “Why didn’t you tell me you drove a motorcycle?”

“Not many parents let their ‘teenager’ drive death traps around.”

“Touché.” I pause, “Take me for a ride?” Swinging my leg over to straddle the beast, I lean over the tank and glance at Jasper.

I know I’ve successfully distracted him by the amount of time it takes for him to respond. Grinning, I sit back and look at him expectantly.

“Absolutely not, darlin’. No way I’m risking-“

“You have safety gear, don’t you?” I tease him as I get off and walk behind him to snag the helmet placed on the counter along the back wall.

Jasper groans and tilts his head back in mock-frustration as he fishes the keys from his pocket. I squeal as I pull the helmet on and hop excitedly towards the bike.

“You’re wearing my protective gear or no deal, sweetheart.” He lays down the law as he stalks over to a cabinet, retrieving a thick coat and gloves.

I almost protest, but he’s pulling the jacket over my arms and zipping it up my chest leaving me breathless before I know what’s happening. Even with the helmet covering my face, I’m sure he senses the heat in my cheeks as he finishes checking me over.

“You sure about this?” Jasper asks, finding my eyes under the visor with his supernatural vision.

“Are you sure about this?” I counter, the unease floating around is practically choking me in this enclosed space before it vanishes in a snap.

He flips up my visor, “Riding with someone requires trust-“

“I trust you, Jasper Hale. Completely and without any reservations or doubt in your abilities to keep me safe.” I swear my words stunned him, his mouth parted slightly as I blurted the confession. As if he realized the doubt that was flowing earlier was from him and not me.

“You are…”, he mutters his response low enough that I can’t hear as he swings a leg over the motorcycle and turns to me seriously. “Number one rule, don’t let go of me. Lean with me on turns and stay tucked in. If you need to stop, tap on my chest. Any questions, doll?” Jasper asks.

“Where are we going?” I climb on behind him and scoot close enough to wrap my arms around his waist lightly, this is the first opportunity I’ve had to be this close to him and it’s amazing. I let out a small gasp when he grabs the backs of both knees to tug me closer, bracketing my hips around his to tuck me in close. He then grabs my arms and places them over his chest, the side of my helmeted head coming to rest on his large back.

“You’ll just have to wait and see, ready?” I feel a teasing chuckle rumble in his chest, so I simply nod, excitement tingling all over from where my body touches his.

The Ducati roars to life in the enclosed space and I feel it lean to the right as Jasper taps the garage door button on the wall to open our exit. My arms squeeze him a little tighter as we launch forward down the driveway, I’m tempted to wave to Esme smiling from the porch, but I decide against it remembering his number one rule of not letting go.

This is single-handedly the best idea I’ve ever had.

Jasper

This girl will be the death of me, I know it for certain.

She could ask me to bring her the moon and I would have it in her hands in a heartbeat. Taking her out on my motorcycle? Easy in theory, extremely difficult in practice. I’ve never felt as I do right now with her arms around me, her completely pressed against my back and squeezing me at every jolt and turn I make.

Heaven and Hell, having my greatest temptation in such close proximity.

She trusts me. Completely and without doubt - her fucking words. I’m positively speechless, I’ve never had someone to myself that trusted me so wholly without needing any kind of explanation or-or proof-

And her leaning over my bike in the garage? I nearly swerve us right off the road thinking about the arch in her back, the way her chest pressed against the tank, her toes barely able to touch the ground… it took nearly every ounce of control to remain rooted while she was seated atop my motorcycle.

My only regret is not showing her the garage sooner, that image of her will forever be seared into my mind. On second thought, I’m sure my mental images were extremely loud and clear in the garage - it’s a mystery how Edward can manage to be around the couples in our family. For me at least, the emotions get too much sometimes and I need breaks.

I’ve noticed that I’ve needed them less and less since Y/n literally slammed her way into my life - breaks from everyone else that is. She not only elicits a physical reaction that no one else has ever managed to coax out of me, but she has also become a mental safe-haven. Being around her energy is as easy and mindless as breathing, if only I could breathe around her without inhaling molten lava. Everything about her completely consumes me, tears me apart and builds me back up, unmakes and makes me over and over, infinite bliss and unending torture. My singer, her blood is a symphony and I am her rapt audience hanging on to every beautiful note and praying for an encore.

My singer.

The revelation clangs through my soul and grants my body with a new purpose; her. She is mine to protect, from this day onward. My left hand reaches up to anchor myself where Y/n’s hands rest on my chest, her arms not quite long enough for her fingers to meet in the middle. I smile to myself, maybe I can allow myself this one bit of happiness, to let her in.

#twilight #bless-my-demons #jasper hale x reader #twilight fanfiction #jasper whitlock hale #jasper hale #redamancy series #jasper hale fanfiction #jasper whitlock #female reader insert #jasper hale twilight #jasper hale x female!reader #slow burn #romance

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mrsnancywheeler · 4 months

Text

finnick odair x childish!partner hc's

based off this request

masterlist

finnick odair would find you charming for the way you showed such a bright interest in things, seeing the best in everyone, and the way you could find entertainment in anything

you'd do dishes only to blow the soapy bubbles on him when walked past and burst into laughter every time

you had no fear of danger, just living in the moment, swimming out as far as you could because you thought you caught a glimpse of a dolphin even if finnick tried to warn you about how dangerous it could be

you loved to be outdoors, in the sun, running up to show him your seashells and the sea glass you found on the beach while he fished

you looked so giddy that finnick would get excited too

finnick would take you out in the early morning, when tides were low because there's nothing you loved more then looking at all the sea creatures on the rocks

after a few trips to the market he learned he had to hold your hand in order to keep you from disappearing

it wasn't enough for finnick to keep an eye on you, he'd take one second to talk to the vendor and your eyes would catch something shiny so you'd wonder away

finnick mostly feared this because you were so prone to believing anything a vendor said, overcharging you, lying to you about the worth or quality of an item

there'd also been the time when you'd initially gotten drawn to another booth, then another, and then lost interest, so when you'd hadn't known where finnick was just decided to walk home without telling him

he'd spent over an hour searching just in the large street markets, filled with non-stop worry when he couldn't find you anywhere, spending another hour checking the beaches and secret spots until he finally found you, blissfully unaware at home

"finny, I got bored, wanted to come home and paint. I tried to make ice cream too, but that was a huge disaster, so don't look in the kitchen"

even if it had frustrated and panicked finnick, he couldn't help but laugh at your antics and let you ramble on about every thought you'd had as he cleaned up your mess

since then finnick made sure his hand was always intertwined with yours which you just found sweet

finnick was always bandaging you out, lightly scolding you for all the bruises you got climbing trees, jumping around the rocks, rolling down hills and in the sand

you'd drag him to the meadow so you could run in the flowers, make you both flower crowns and daisy chains, once you'd insisted on holding a mock ceremony where you crowned him

the meadow had once been your safe place and it felt right to you to do something to signal you were letting him into that part of you

finnick adored the way you pouted when you didn't get your way, like saying you two had to get home, how you needed to put a sweater on before going outside in the chilly weather, or that you both had to go to bed

he especially loved mocking your little pouts and whines which made you increase them until he kissed you which always put you in a happier, gigglier mood

#wanda 💋#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair angst #finnick odair x reader fluff #finnick odair x you #finnick odair x reader angst #thg #finnick odair imagine #thg finnick #finnick odair fanfic #finnick fanfic #finnick imagine #finnick x you #finnick x reader

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renthony · 2 months

Note

Just curious. How bad has Biden been at controlling COVID-19 in your view?

First: I already responded to a similar question you left on this post.

Second: Biden has been atrocious for COVID-19 safety and management. COVID-19 is still killing people, and our president has done a horribly insufficient job in mitigating that. "Better than the Republicans" is not the same thing as "good" or "effective." Biden's abysmal reaction to COVID-19 is part of why I'm so thrilled that the Uncommitted campaign for the Democratic primary has achieved some success. That particular campaign is focused on ceasefire in Palestine, but the People's CDC explained in a statement how Palestine is also very much a public health issue. We need to scare the bastard and actually do some of that "pushing him left" that people claimed they'd do after getting him elected. Though it seems to me like a lot of people just settled for, "okay, we got rid of Trump, we don't have to worry anymore."

Third: While I'm at it, people have to do more than vote. You have got to get involved. You have got to do more than participate in the presidential election once every four years. Join a union (may I recommend the IWW?), follow the guidance of The People's CDC, volunteer for your local Food Not Bombs, get involved in a tenants union like the Autonomous Tenants Union Network, read Riot Medicine, get trained in first aid and get involved in a street medic group, read up on your local politics and get involved on the small-scale, do something in addition to voting in the presidential election. Even if you're limited in how much you can personally participate, find the people who are talking about these issues and signal boost them, and share the information with others who may be more able to participate more. If you can tell people to go vote in the presidential election, you can also tell them to go do other things, too.

Now, with all of that out of the way, here are some links related to Biden's abysmal COVID-19 response:

During his 2020 campaign, Biden promised immediate $2K stimulus checks. Instead, he delivered $1,400. Sources: [x] [x] [x] [x] [x]

Velena Jones for NBC Bay Area: "‘Too expensive': Bay Area residents shocked over new COVID vaccine prices"

Reuters: "COVID vaccine manufacturers set list price between $120-$130 per dose"

Joseph Choi for The Hill: "Free COVID-19 test program to be suspended for now"

Disability activist Alice Wong writing for TeenVogue: "Covid Isn't Going Anywhere. Masking Up Could Save My Life," and the follow-up article, "COVID and the 2024 Election: What Biden and Democrats Owe High-Risk People."

Laura Weiss writing for The New Republic: "Democrats Can't Keep Ignoring Covid in 2024."

David Cohen and Adam Cancryn for Politico: "Biden on '60 Minutes': 'The Pandemic is Over.'"

Alex Skopic for Current Affairs: "COVID-19 is Still a Threat. So is Biden’s CDC."

Adam Cancryn for Politico: "Biden Appears to be Over Covid Protocols."

Paul Thornton for the Los Angeles Times: "Covid Still Rages, and the Biden Administration Isn't Helping."

Eric J. Topol for the Los Angeles Times: "The U.S. is facing the biggest COVID wave since Omicron. Why are we still playing make-believe?"

We should have free, universal testing. We should have free, universal vaccination. We should have free, universal treatment. We should have financial assistance for those of us who can't work outside the home. We should have mandated work-from-home for any job that can be done remotely. We should be emptying prisons and paying attention to the way disease and abuse proliferate inside their walls. We should have COVID-19 safety PSAs and government support for universal masking. We should have free distribution of N95s. We should have mandated masking in medical settings and public spaces. We should have a higher minimum wage. We should have healthcare reforms. We should have strong worker protections. We should have improved infrastructure. We should have a president who gives a single flying fuck about how many of us are dying.

And we have none of it.

But we sure seem to have money to keep dropping bombs, arming cops, terrorizing the vulnerable, and imprisoning innocent people to use for slave labor.

#original post #covid 19

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queer-irritator · 6 months

Text

Everything Has Changed | Kratos x reader

A/N: I was listening to music and Everything Has Changed by Taylor Swift came on and it made me think of how one look at Kratos and I was in love lmao. I think Kratos deserves a whirlwind, sudden teenage dream type romance. Pure fluff!

Fem reader, no use of pronouns, but feminine descriptions used.

CW: Adult language, mention of death, mention of mysophobia.

Word Count: 4,535

---

You lived alone on a small island in Svartalfheim, near Dragon’s Beach. Since the towns nearby were built with dwarves in mind, you didn’t exactly find it the most comfortable to live in Nidavellir. So, you built your own little slice of paradise. You had a quaint home, not unlike those housed by dwarves. You also had your own garden to grow food, and a few pets to keep you company. You found your way into the tight-knit community created by, and for, dwarves after being taken in by the most unlikely candidate in all of Svartalfheim, Sindri.

Left an orphan after your parents were murdered under Odin’s orders, you were stuck wandering the town of Nidavellir at the age of 6. Your parents were adventurers; brave and curious truth-seekers. But when their curiosity brought them to Svartalfheim, dangerously close to what you can only assume was something very sacred to Odin, they were killed. Or, that’s what you think anyway. Odin and the aesir claim there was an “accident” when they were exploring. You didn’t know any better at the time, but Sindri did. Somehow he had convinced Odin not to take you away with him, gods know what he would have done to you if he hadn’t been successful.

Since then, you’ve looked to Sindri, and the entire community of Nidavellir, as family. It had been almost two decades since then, and now you work hard helping out the dwarves any way you can. You perform chores that are made easy due to your height advantage over them, but most importantly you make yourself available to listen to the community, sort of like a self-appointed therapist. That’s where you were at this very moment, on a hill a few minutes walk outside of town, you call your “office”. You saw a few people each day, but today was slower than usual. On days like this you liked to practice magic and tend to your garden. You took an interest in nature, so Sindri taught you how to manipulate some natural elements, get food to grow quicker, some healing magic, stuff like that. You were planting some seeds for the upcoming harvest season. Your hands, covered in soft, cold dirt, carefully poked holes into the tender earth. You dropped a few seeds in each hole before gently covering them back up.

The snap of a twig to your left tore your focus away from your current task. You turned your head to meet the sound and couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. You saw Sindri stepping out from behind a tree, you hadn’t seen him in a few months, the both of you had been consumed in work as of late.

“Sindri!” you called to the dwarf as you dusted the dirt off your hands and stood up.

“Hey, it’s been a while. I-”

You cut off Sindri’s words by running over to him and embracing him in a bone-crunching hug. You were careful to keep your dirty hands away from him, but he hated being touched nonetheless. This was the longest you’ve ever gone without seeing each other, so he was just going to have to deal with your close proximity. You could feel his body tense up around your arms, signaling he had enough.

“I’m sorry, I know you hate it, but I haven’t seen you in forever!!” You flashed him a sad smile, pleading him not to be upset with you.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll just… take a bath in bleach.” He was standing so none of his limbs were touching each other, like an awkward sparring dummy.

“Don’t be so dramatic.” You teased him as you knelt down to rinse your hands in a bucket of water nearby.

“We breathed the same air for nearly 20 years, a hug is nothing.” you attempted to reason with his brain. You stood up once again and really took in the sight of Sindri standing in front of you. Despite his mysophobia that refused to waver, you really missed him.

“So, what are you doing here? Just dropping by?”

“No, I… I actually need your help with something.” Sindri’s tone had shifted from annoyed to more serious. “Anything for you, Sin’.” you smiled at him, trying to keep the conversation light. You couldn’t imagine he would have anything horrific to ask of you. You turned to a small shelf and grabbed a clean rag and a bottle of cleaner and handed it to Sindri.

“Here. I can’t take you seriously with you standing like that, man.” You chuckled. He mumbled out a ‘thanks’ and swiftly began to clean himself.

While Sindri was getting himself into a state of cleanliness that he deemed suitable, he told you of the favor he needed. He explained that the World Tree was dangerously close to becoming overgrown, and Ratatoskr had his hands busy trying to parent the lindwyrms, who were not ready to care for the world tree on their own quite yet.

“Ahh, so now my “dirty hobby” has come to be useful!” You crossed your arms smugly as Sindri rolled his eyes with a scoff.

“If that’s how you want to look at it…” he murmured. “Just, come to my house when you’re ready. I have to take a bath now.”

Before you could even agree, Sindri was gone. You chuckled to yourself and began to clean up and get ready to be away for awhile. You said a spell over your newly planted seeds to keep them healthy and watered for the time being. Next you collected some clothes and supplies into a small satchel and picked up your sword. Its hilt was crafted from dwarven steel and the blade was made out of wood from a poison tree and wrapped in thorny vines. You slid it into its sheath on your back and headed to the nearest mystic gateway.

---

Kratos, Atreus, and Mimir had just returned from freeing the Hafgufa from Vanaheim. There was a trail of sand following behind them.

“I’m really glad we got to set the Hafgufas free, but I don’t think I wanna go to any realms with sand for a while…” Atreus stated as he brushed some sand from his hair

“Aye, I’ve got sand in me neck stump!” Mimir shared Atreus’ disdain for feeling sand in every crevice imaginable. The sound of the front doors opening pulled the men’s attention from their current discomfort.

You took a few steps through the front door before you stopped in your tracks as you locked eyes with perhaps the most invigorating man you’ve ever seen. You hadn’t expected to see anyone else at the house, let alone someone so tantalizing. It felt as if all the breath was stolen from your lungs as you looked deep into his amber eyes. The scowl the man had on his face only a second before had noticeably softened now. It was as if the two of you were the only people in all the nine realms at that moment. After what felt like years of staring into this man’s soul through his eyes, it was cut short as sound filled the air.

“Y/n! About time I saw you again.” Brok greeted you as he walked out from behind the counter of the workshop. You held your gaze with the giant man for just one more second before reluctantly tearing your eyes away to greet Brok.

This was no big deal, you just had to act like you hadn’t just seen the most attractive and magnetizing person in your entire life… If you didn’t believe in love at first sight before, you sure as Hel believed in it now.

“It’s really great to see you, Brok.” You smiled at the blue dwarf and bent down to engulf him in a hug. You could only hope that he couldn’t feel your heart pounding in your chest.

Although your back was turned, you could feel the man's eyes on your body. You stood up straight and took a deep breath, readying yourself to speak to the handsome stranger. You turned towards him and held out your hand to greet him as you found yourself drawn to his eyes once again.

“Hi, I’m (y/n).” You introduced yourself. The man glanced down at your hand and then back at you. He reached his hand out to grasp yours in a surprisingly gentle handshake.

“Kratos.” is all he said. The sound of his voice was better than anything you imagined. You could have melted into a puddle of goo at that very moment.

“Kratos.” You smiled as you repeated his name. “It’s very nice to meet you.” You said, letting go of his hand, missing the warmth of his body heat immediately. You looked to your right to see a teenage boy. You had almost missed him in all the feelings and thoughts swirling around in your head.

Kratos placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, “This is my son, Atreus.”

You reached your hand out to greet Atreus as well, “It’s very nice to meet you too!” you smiled at the boy. He returned your smile and shook your hand, with much more grip and enthusiasm than his father.

“Good to meet you as well! So, how do you know Sindri?” Atreus asked, assuming only people close to the dwarf would be allowed access into his home. You chuckled slightly, thinking he was joking around. When he glanced around awkwardly you realized how serious he was.

“Oh…” you started, confusion showing on your face, but it soon turned to agitation. “Oh my gods.” You quickly turned your head to Brok. “He… He doesn’t talk about me?” You practically yelled in astonishment.

“Hey, don’t take it out on me… But, uh, let me take a look at yer sword.” Brok knew just how to evade your annoyance. You took out your sword and set it down on the workshop table with a scoff as you repeated your words with disbelief, “He doesn’t talk about me…”

Kratos and Atreus silently exchanged glances to each other as they were left guessing how you and Sindri were acquainted. One situation in particular was swirling around Kratos’ mind, that you were romantically involved with the dwarf. Disappointment had crept up onto him as he began to entertain this thought.

“Uhm… Are you and Sindri, like… dating?” Atreus awkwardly asked you, staring at his own feet to avoid your gaze.

“No! Oh, no, not at all! He raised me!” You had been so lost in your annoyance that you never answered the boy's question.

Kratos felt relief wash over him. He wasn’t sure why he was relieved, or why he cared if you had been something more than a friend or family member to Sindri. He had just met you, he should not be having these types of thoughts or feelings about anyone, let alone a stranger.

“Ohhh!” Atreus chuckled a little, finally looking up at you again. “Wait- Sindri had a kid?” He glanced at his father and then back to you. “Are you-”

You cut Atreus off before things could get awkward again, “No, I’m like an adopted sibling he never wanted.” you cleared the air.

Seemingly right on cue, Sindri entered the house.

“Oh! I didn’t realize you three would be back already...” Sindri shifted his weight from side to side, seemingly unprepared to introduce you to his guests. But his awkward demeanor soon switched to panic as he noticed the pool of sand in his house.

“Really?!” Sindri sighed loudly as he fetched a broom from a nearby closet. “You two, get outside!” He commanded Kratos and Atreus, pushing the broom at their heels to rush them out of his previously pristine house.

Once the duo had been escorted outside, Sindri shot them a warning, “And do NOT come back in until you are sand-free!”

Sindri propped the front doors open and began to sweep the sand out of the house. You were left watching the entire ordeal with a slightly amused look on your face. You figured you could give Sindri shit later for not telling his friends about you, he had enough on his plate for the time being. For now, your gaze drifted back towards Kratos.

“Uhm, I’m gonna go take a bath.” Atreus notified his father before turning his back to walk through a small wooden gate on the side of the house to clean up.

Kratos grumbled slightly and unhooked Mimir from his belt, setting him down on the bottom step of the stairs leading into the house. He then proceeded to take off each piece of his armor and shake the sand out from them. You took your time to look over his upper body. Your eyes trailed the bright red tattoo, from the sharp edge on his face to the swirl on his bicep, and the curve on his abdomen. You couldn’t help admiring his muscular physique and taking note of the large scar on his stomach, and a smaller one over his eye.

“Alright, quit yer drooling.” Brok’s voice snapped you back into reality. He set down your sword on the counter in between the two of you.

You whipped your head towards the dwarf, a soft pink blush falling over your cheeks.

“Fuck off, I was not drooling…” You defended yourself, snatching your sword back. You took a moment to look over Brok’s upgrades before returning it to its sheath.

“Whatever you say, princess.” Brok teased you further.

You rolled your eyes and started to walk down the steps outside. You were careful not to make any more of a mess for Sindri, but not careful enough to notice a severed head on the very last step. In your effort to avoid stepping on the head, you tripped over your own two feet. Instead of feeling the harsh impact of the ground, you felt a warm hand on your upper arm. You looked up to see Kratos holding onto you. His piercing brown eyes were staring right into your soul, again. You felt your heart rate pick up, you opened your mouth to speak but no words came out. His grip loosened on you and he returned his hand to his side.

“You should be more careful.” Kratos advised you.

“Yeah- uhm, I’m sorry about that.” You turned to the severed head on the steps, “I’m really sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it. It’s the big oaf’s fault for settin’ me down there.” The head was surprisingly forgiving of your clumsiness. A tinge of pink settled across your cheeks as you looked back to Kratos. The man just grunted in response to the head.

“I’m Mimir, it’s nice to meet you.” The head introduced himself at last. You sat down on the steps next to Mimir.

“Right back at’cha. I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier.” You felt guilt for over-looking him earlier. Although, you did overlook just about everyone except for Kratos…

“Don’t even mention it. How could ya have seen me?” Mimir continued to joke at the expense of Kratos. A smile spread across your face. Before you could continue your conversation, a voice rang out.

“Master (y/n)!” A familiar voice entered your eardrums, Ratatoskr. A small sigh escaped your lips as you stood up.

“Duty calls.” You announced. “I’ll see you two around.” You gave a smile to Mimir and a wave to Kratos before walking over to speak with the abnormally large squirrel. It was time to find out what exactly you’ll be helping him with.

Kratos’ gaze followed you as you walked away from him. His eyes raked over your figure, memorizing the way you walked and how your hips moved with each step.

“Father?” Atreus’ voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Hm?” Kratos turned his attention to his son and continued to shake the last of the sand out of his waist armor.

“I was just saying that the bath is ready for you, and I can clean up out here.” Atreus shifted his gaze between Mimir and his father. Kratos simply nodded his head, dropping the armor he was holding and headed to get himself cleaned up.

Atreus began to gather the armor from the ground. “Uhh, do you think he’s acting a little… weird today?”

“I think he might be a wee bit tired from all the traveling, lad. Speaking of, would you mind helping me clean up a bit?”

“Sure, no problem Mimir.” Atreus smiled and got to work.

---

You spent the next few hours getting a tour of the World Tree and extremely detailed instructions from Ratatoskr on how to care for it. He explained how to prune the branches, what limbs held which realms, what you should never touch, the list went on and on. Your head was so filled with new information it felt like your brain was going to explode. You walked into the house just as it was getting dark outside after finally being relieved for the evening. Even though the realm between realms doesn’t have a sun and a moon, it was still nice to have it simulate days and nights, so as to not lose track of time. The scent of meat and spices filled your nostrils, Brok was in the kitchen stirring a large pot, of what you assume was dinner.

“That smells amazing.” You said, walking towards Brok. You stopped in front of the giant pot and picked up a spoon to give the stew a taste test. “Tastes amazing too.”

“It ain’t ready yet.” Brok snatched the spoon out of your hand. You put your hands up in defense.

“Sorry, I guess I’ll just wait then… and never compliment you again.” you turned your back and headed to where you used to sleep growing up.

“Wait, that’s-” Before Brok could finish his warning, you opened the door to be greeted by Kratos sitting on the side of a makeshift bed. The only item of clothing he had on was dark brown pants. He almost looked like a different person without all his armor on. There was even more scarring hiding under his wrist armor, it looked like chains had been branded onto his forearms.

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t realize you were staying in here.” You apologized for intruding.

Kratos looked up to meet your gaze, “It is fine.”

You gave him a small smile and looked around the room, “This place hasn’t changed much. I used to stay in this room when I was younger.” You leaned against the wall as a flood of memories entered your mind.

“You can have the room if you wish.” Kratos said as he stood up with a slight grunt.

“No, I couldn’t kick you out of your room. You probably need it more than me. Plus, the chair out there is pretty comfy.” You assured him.

“Mh… Let me know if you change your mind.” He began to wrap some red cloth around his forearms.

“So, how did you come to have a talking severed head as your companion?” You questioned him.

“I cut it off.” Kratos replied to you plainly.

“Huh?” You had confusion written all over your face.

“He was trapped. Imprisoned in a tree and tortured everyday. He asked me to cut off his head to free him. So I did.” Kratos further explained.

“Oh, that’s actually really kind of you.” You said, reflecting on the odd, but thoughtful, request.

Kratos grunted in response.

Just as you were about to ask him more about himself, you heard Brok announce that dinner was ready. You gave Kratos one more look over. His lack of clothing was incredibly inviting, but you were hungry and tired.

“I’ll see you out there.” You excused yourself and walked out to the table to sit down and get some food.

---

Dinner was nice and casual, there was no residual awkwardness from the days prior events. You got to know more about Atreus, that boy really likes to talk. He was going on about the different types of monsters he’s fought with his dad. He seemed the most proud of defeating a huge electric dragon a few years ago. The most surprising detail of the story was that Sindri utilized one of the dragon’s teeth to enhance Atreus’ bow. Swapping stories around the dinner table made the time go by far too fast for your liking. It felt like the six of you had been friends for a lifetime. When the conversation had died down, you stood up and collected the empty plates. You made your way to the kitchen to wash up while Kratos and Atreus went into their respective rooms.

“I can get that, you should get some rest.” Sindri’s voice came from behind you. You turned your head to look at him.

“No, I really don’t mind!” You insisted, turning on the water.

“Okay… Well, to be honest I don’t trust anyone else washing the dishes but me.” Sindri admitted.

“Mmmh, the truth comes out.” You chuckled and stepped away from the sink. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

“You just rest. You’ve done a lot for me today… Thank you.” Sindri gave you a small smile and got started on cleaning up.

You had an idea brewing in your mind. You couldn’t get your mind off of Kratos. You just wanted to know more about him, he was all you could think of. You found a spare piece of paper, scribbled down a note, slipped it under Kratos’ door and made yourself scarce.

“Brother, someone’s slipped a note under your door.” Mimir alerted Kratos, who was laying down on his makeshift bed. He pulled the weight of himself up with a slight grunt and walked over to where the note was. He bent down and picked it up, unfolding it carefully.

Meet me at the side of the house.

Kratos furrowed his brows and let out a confused grumble. He set the note down on a crate near his bed and stepped out of his room.

“Aye, what did it say??” Mimir questioned, but the only response he got was the sound of the door closing and heavy footsteps leading further and further away.

You were sitting on a barrel, leaning your back against the side of the house and nervously tapping your fingertips on your thigh. You heard the front door open and close, causing you to spring to your feet and run a hand through your hair to tame any fly-aways. You watched as Kratos entered through the side gate, latching it behind him. Your heartbeat started to increase with each step he took toward you. He stopped a few feet away from you.

“You wanted to see me?” Kratos spoke with a hint of confusion laced in his words.

“Yeah, I did…” You took a step toward him, taking in a deep breath before looking up into his eyes. “I’ve really enjoyed talking to you, and I just wanna know you better.” You confessed your infatuation with the man.

“What would you wish to know?” Kratos asked you.

“Everything?” You responded, taking another step closer to him, leaving only a few inches of space in between you.

“Mh… That may take awhile.” Kratos looked down at you, his chest steadily rising and falling with each breath he took. It was beyond your grasp how he could remain so calm and stoic, but it made you want him more than ever.

“I have time.” You told him with a small smile. You lifted your hand from your side and carefully placed it on Kratos’ cheek, right where his beard began to sprout. You looked in his eyes for any signs of hesitation, but you found none. You leaned up on your tippy toes and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.

You leaned back just a few centimeters from him and opened your eyes. He hadn’t moved a muscle, it was like you had kissed a statue. Kratos had a look of surprise and confusion sprawled across his face. His eyes were raking over your facial features, searching for any hint of disgust. He was waiting for you to shove him away, to start laughing at him. He was expecting to hear you question who would ever want to touch a monster like him. But you were just staring right back at him, looking increasingly worried by the second.

“Are you okay?” You spoke, barely above a whisper. Had you broken him? Did he not like you? Was he trying to find a way to let you down without hurting your feelings? Your embarrassment started to manifest itself as redness across your cheeks, darkening with each moment of silence that passed.

Kratos nodded ever so slightly and one of his hands ghosted just above your hip, barely making contact with your body.

You placed your free hand on top of his, encouraging him to make full contact with you. You placed both of your hands on either side of his face and kissed him again. Only this time, you weren’t as gentle. You started with a firm kiss and then began to move your lips against his, trying to encourage him to kiss you back. You felt his hand on your hip pull you closer to his body and then you finally felt his lips start to move against yours. He dipped his head down so you didn’t have to strain to reach his lips. You couldn’t hold back a faint moan erupting from your throat as you wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to get even closer to Kratos. He now placed both his hands on your hips, tilting his head slightly to the side to deepen the kiss. After a few more moments, you weren’t sure if it was a lack of oxygen, or if you were getting drunk off of the feeling of Kratos on you, but you were getting dizzy. You stopped kissing him and placed a hand on his chest to steady yourself and took a moment to catch your breath. Kratos watched you cautiously, he gently brushed a strand of hair out of your face with the back of his hand. Your face was flushed pink and your lips were wet with the mix of both of your saliva. He hadn’t had any feelings like this in a long, long time.

“Uhm…” You looked up at Kratos, pleasantly surprised to see he was watching you carefully, “Would you wanna get a drink with me sometime?”

For the first time you saw the man’s cheeks firm up into a slight smile and heard the sweet sound of a chuckle escape his lips.

“Why don’t we go now?” He proposed.

You nodded in response, “Yeah, that sounds great.” You smiled back at him, not caring if you looked like a complete idiot.

“Let us go then.” He declared, walking towards the gate and holding it open for you.

“Okay, I know just the place.” You walked through the small wooden gate and excitedly waited for Kratos to catch up to you at the mystic gateway.

---

A/N: Thank you for reading! I very well may do a part two to this story. Feedback and interaction helps me know if you want me to continue!

#god of war #god of war ragnorak #gow #gowr #kratos #gow kratos #kratos x reader #kratos x fem reader #kratos x gn reader #kratos fluff #kratos smut #gow fanfic #gow fanfiction #gow sindri #gow spoilers #gowr spoilers #atreus #sindri #brok

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sky-is-the-limit · 9 months

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MDNI/+18/afab y/n.

(Disclaimer: I'm not a writer/smut writers feel free to be inspired/continue this!)

Okay but I need someone to write a smut of Abby and Ellie competing for the reader (in tlou universe) like they both come from Jackson and though they're on friendly terms, they're always competing with each other about everything, who's a better shooter, who can kill more infected, who can get more girls, you get the vision.

(art by @abbystanaccount)

One day the usual group, including them both, were on the way to get supplies but an unexpected hoard of infected made them all split up in pairs, leaving Ellie stuck with Abby. As expected, they can't decide on where to go because both of them are stubborn, think they're always right and have the need to lead, leaving the other frustrated, mumbling that their plan is the right one. Their little argument on which way to go is cut short when they notice that the sun is going down and no matter which way they decide to take, they're gonna get stuck in the darkness, out in the open with no supplies or backup if they get ambushed. Only option is to spend the night at the small abandoned house located at the top of the hill. It seems like a pretty decent option considering the situation they're stuck in.

While Ellie is checking the surroundings of the house, Abby cautiously makes her way towards the front door, her gun in hand as she checks the first room inside. Clean. She motions to Ellie that the place seems empty and makes her way up the stairs, quietly, gun pointed towards the wooden closed door of the first room she encounters.

"Take one more step and I'll blow your fucking head off!" A voice yells from behind the door, catching Abby off guard as she got distracted from the sound of the front door closing. Damn it, Ellie.

"Fuck, sounds like someone's here already-" Ellie mumbles quietly, gun pointed upwards whilst taking slow steps towards Abby, who looks more annoyed than worried, like a minor inconvenience just occurred and not someone actually threatening to blow her head off.

"Yeah, no shit." Abby sighs deeply, closing her eyes for a second before taking another step towards the door, ignoring Ellie's 'what the fuck are you doing' look.

"What the hell are you doing?!" She finally says out loud, quiet enough for stranger not to hear but loud enough to make Abby roll her eyes and turn her attention towards her.

"It's already pitch black outside and it sounds like she's alone in th-"

"I'll fucking shoot!" The voice yells again, this time sounding closer, less confident, like the person inside moved to have a clearer shot at the door but is definitely panicking about it. Abby always had the better intuition between the two, always able to tell when someone's afraid of her, which was usually the case, always knowing exactly when to shoot and when not to, when to panic and when to stay calm. This was definitely a 'stay calm' situation with the 'threat' panicking behind the wooden door. They have the upper hand.

"She's definitely alone." Abby whispers turning her gaze back at the door, her hand carefully touching the handle but before she does anything, she looks back at Ellie who sends a small nod her way, making sure she knows they're on the same page about this. It's a nice change for once.

"You won't do shit, don't be stupid!" Ellie calls out, repositioning herself on the left side of the door, her gun ready in hand as Abby firms her grip tighter on the handle, signaling that she's about to burst in. Now the 'threat' inside knows that there's more than one person waiting for them if the decide to pull anything, though that would be the worst case scenario in the world they live in.

"One shot and infected come storming in, you don't want that, we surely don't want that-" Ellie continues before Abby slowly pushes down the door handle, barely opening the door an inch before the person inside speaks up again, the sound of her footsteps moving away from her previous position, allowing Abby to push the door open a little more.

"What do you want then?!" Her voice sounds more cautious now, less nervous as if she's trying unsuccessfully to come across as fearless.

"We only want shelter for the night, we're not going to harm you, I promise." Abby calls out, sending Ellie a 'get ready' look before she finally pushes the door open, gun pointed towards the woman inside. To her surprise, the woman is not holding a gun nor a knife. She's gripping tightly on wooden bat, her eyes fierce as she takes a step forward towards them, like a wounded animal full of adrenaline, ready to attack in order to protect itself.

"Wait, you were seriously gonna take us out with that?" Ellie finally walks in, her gun pointed forward as she raises an eyebrow surprised, her tone full of sarcasm. She takes a moment to assess the sight in front of her before slowly lowering her gun to face the floor. Oh and it was a sight. You know what they say, stranger danger. However, they never tell you what to do if said danger was temptation on legs and Ellie wouldn't be able to take her eyes away even if said temptation was holding a fucking grenade. The woman was only wearing a pair of slim, black jeans hugging her figure perfectly like they were tailored just for her, with a shirt nowhere to be found. In it's place only a black bra, barely visible now as the woman uncomfortably tries her best to hold the bat while hiding her nakedness by crossing her arms over her chest. Ellie blinks a few times before coming down to her senses, this is not the time, right? Abby would tell her to get her shit together and not let her guard down and so she turns her gaze to Abby only to find her in a similar state.

Abby has seen her fair share of good looking women, hell, even had them in her bed once or twice, some even more times than she can count. She's confident in her looks, she knows damn well the effect she has on whoever she wants to spend the night with. Manny affectionately calls her the 'chick magnet' though the envy in his voice every time he sees a woman leaving Abby's room is very obvious. Yet now she can barely put the words together in her head to form a sentence or make sure that the stranger knows not to fuck with her.

On the contrary, her thoughts right now very much involve said stranger fucking with her in a very dissimilar, specific way. Ellie's eyes on her finally make Abby snap out of it, realising that even if the woman is outnumbered, they shouldn't let their guard down, they don't know if someone's coming for her.

"We only want shelter for the night. We'll be out of your hair first thing in the morning." Abby mumbles, lowering her gun down when she notices the woman relaxing her grip on the bat, now looking back and forth between her and Ellie almost defeated, clearly coming to terms with the fact that being hostile won't do her any good in this situation. Abby takes a quick glance back at the woman, her right shoulder covered in dried blood, a few slashes from her collarbone to her stomach and what seems to be a piece of teared up cloth on the table next to her. It looks like she was treating her wounds before her Ellie and her bursted through the door.

"Uh, so what now?" The woman finally speaks up before setting her bat on the table next to her, clearly accepting the situation they're all in without putting up a fight.

"Seems like you're stuck with us for the night." Ellie says, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed over her chest as her gaze unintentionally (or not) travel up and down the woman's body before sending her a playful wink. It's gonna be a long night.

#okay I'm not a writer this is just a prompt #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #abby anderson #abby anderson smut #abby tlou #abby the last of us #abby anderson x reader #tlou #tlou2 #the last of us

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signalhill-if · 1 year

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The world went to shit long before you were born- what happened, nobody's sure. Whatever it was, it left a mess. The horrors of the blasted wasteland, the things that roam outside of city walls, the static that buzzes in your ear like an old TV... not to mention the violent fuckers out there who'd rather they have what you've got.

But a job with a caravan travelling across the wastes means you can finally start a new life in the neon-lit utopia of Signal Hill. That is, until you're ambushed outside the city, your cargo stolen and your guards dead. The bright lights and the ever-present hum of the radio are starting to feel like more of a nightmare than a dream...

Signal Hill is a post-apocalyptic narrative RPG/interactive fiction game set in the eponymous neon-lit utopia, Signal Hill. Players take on the role of a wanderer from the North, arriving in the city for the first time and become enthralled in its local intrigue. It also contains gratuitous violence and sexual themes, so the current demo is recommended for adults only.

Over 83,000 words of quests, conversations, and locations

A detailed text-based open world to explore

5 fully-realized authored quests to pursue

Choose your weapon, skills, and customize your character

140 clothing options, and dozens of other customization options

Fully customizable pronouns & gender (separate)

8 available identities to define who you are through your choices

Meet most of the main cast

SEE FOR YOURSELF. TRY IT OUT.

#it's definitely not going to be what some of y'all expected but i hope that's in a good way ;)#soooooo proud of this weird little game #interactive fiction #if #demo release #indie games #signal hill #signal hill if

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bagdaddyb · 7 months

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Spider's Web

Summary: What really happens when you're gone on missions?

Pairing: fem!ssReader x Natasha

Warnings: Angst no happy ending.

AN: We all need our heart broken sometimes

Exiting the quinjet you released an audible sigh of exhaustion. The mission while shorter than scheduled had sapped all the energy out of you. You were extrememly greatful to be back two days early not sure what a full two weeks would of done to you. Scanning the few on the landing pad you aren't greeted with the comforting red hair of your girlfriend but you don't think much of it, you were early and Natasha was often busy herself. Slumping over you slowly make your way down to the meeting room grabbing your paperwork to get it over and done with so you could enjoy uninterrupted sleep. It only took you about an hour and by the end of it you could barely keep your eyes open.

Making your way to the bedroom you shared with the red head you'd yet to see today you're so in your own head it takes you a moment to register the steady thump you hear coming through the wall. Disregarding the noise, you grab your handle door unlocking due to facial recognition. As you open the door, your drowsiness begins to fade, your adrenaline suddenly pumping as if you were still deployed with bullets flying past you. You recognize the back Maria Hill, her body moving at a steady pace pumping into your girlfriend who is panting below her. Familiar small whines escaping plump lips. The room smells like sex, a noticeable temperature increase once you passed the threshold, and you take into account that they must have been at it for hours, long before you got home. In an instant, you process everything, eyes taking in the disheveled room with clothes thrown everywhere. Every surface slightly rough housed as if they'd gone at it like animals against every piece of furniture you owned, and you can't help the audible deep laugh that escapes you. The noise finally alerting the two spies of your pressence. Maria bends over Natasha in an attempt to cover her, which causes her green eyes to meet yours. The red heads widening frantically and that only makes you laugh a little harder.

"Wow, I have to say even I'm impressed. Your act is so good you even got me to let down my walls. Don't stop on my account, I'll just see myself out."

You say with a chuckle closing the door as you shake your head and fight the tears that want to pool in your eyes. The Black Widow had spun even you the Angel of Death into her web. You should have known, should have realized it was all a lie no one could ever possibly love someone with a past like yours. You begin your trek down the hall towards the elevator unsure of where you were going just knowing you needed to get away. You're almost there when you hear a door slam open behind you but you don't even turn around continuing towards your destination. Your hands flex and unflex, you were truly having an out of body experience. Is this how heartbreak feels? Your chest clenches and suddenly you don't know how to breath. Crossing the threshold into the elevator you turn to hit the button right as Natasha runs up to you. She looks thoroughly fucked hair a mess, kiss plumped lips. Her clothes are thrown on the shirt she's wearing not even hers you realize.

"(Y/N) wait. Let me explain."

You raise your eyebrow crossing your arms as you look down at the shorter woman.

"No, I don't think I will."

"(Y/N) please."

You fight back another chuckle at her desperation.

"You weren't worried about me while I was gone on my mission, you weren't worried about me when I got back almost two hours ago, and if I hadn't walked in on you and Maria you wouldn't be worried about me now. So no Natasha, we're done fuck off and go back to laying under Maria."

You push the girl back getting her outside of the elevator doors before hitting the ground floor not bothering to spare the red head another glance. As soon as the doors ping signaling you're at your destination, you're walking. Heading straight for the front doors to the compound. You keep going passing the garden, the track, the tech building, heading straight for the forest tree line.

"FUUUUUUCK."

You scream at the top of your lungs before punching a tree with all your might the log exploding into a rain of small splinters.

"Guess you learned your lesson (Y/N)."

You say to yourself as you pace back and forth. The pain in your chest unfamiliar and highly uncomfortable. Your throat hurts with the tears you refuse to let out, blood pumping with anger and sadness all together. This feeling was unbearable, you'd compare it even to tortures you'd endured as a science guinea pig. You try and even out your breathing ignoring the tremble in your lip and cloudiness in your eyes.

"You're okay, you're okay. You are okay."

Four Months Later

You grab your go bag slipping it over your shoulder. You're dressed in your familiar skin tight black shirt and brown pants. Fabric straining around your new muscle growth. You leave your shoulder length hair to fall around your face deciding to tie it up later in the quinjet. Chewing on a piece of gum you head for the roof. In the past one hundred and twenty three days you'd shut yourself off completely. Detaching from your own emotions even you don't recognize yourself in the mirror sometimes but it was for the best, for your protection. You'd dedicated yourself to your job and your training finding little to no time for anything else and taking almost every mission that came across your desk. On the roof you're greeted by your fellow Avengers the trip to Wakanda an urgent one that required the whole team. You keep your head down for the most part not wanting to risk locking eyes with ones you knew to be staring at you. You'd successfully avoided Natasha since your last encounter and even though this mission would be the first you'd work together since you were determined to keep it up. After the quick debreif you all load onto the jet taking your usual seat off in the corner you plug your ears with headphones wanting nothing more that to be left alone for the flight. You ignore the familiar feeling of eyes on you settling to scroll through your phone for music, you feel her steps approach through vibrations in the floor but don't look up completely ignoring her pressence when she comes to stand in front of you. She hesistates a moment before sighing moving to sit next to you but before she can another red head quickly slots into the space crossing her legs and opening up the book she had in her hands.

"Sorry but this spots taken."

Wanda says without even looking up leaning back as she begins to read allowing her red wisp like magic to float between her fingers. Another sigh escapes Natasha but she accepts her defeat moving to the other side of the jet to sit by Clint. I appreciate that. You think knowing the scarlett witch is listening and she merely hums in response eyes never leaving the pages before her. As you apporach the border you pull out a hair tie running your fingers through your hair in an attempt to tame it before pulling it back. The action catches the witches attention pulling her eyes from her book for the first time that flight.

"May I?"

The question causes you to pause eyeing the red head out the corner of your eye as you contemplate.

"No need to think so hard I promise not to ruin your precious locks."

You release a sigh relenting and passing the hair tie to the woman next to you. You hate to admit how comforting it feels to have her nails lightly scratch your scalps as she pulls your hair back. Making quick work of throwing your hair into an efficient bun. The trip to Wakanda is worse than imagined the attack being more that anyone had anticipated and if it hadn't of been for an unexpected visit from Fury's friend among the stars you're sure more than one of you would of ended up dead. You search the battlefield with Steve and Bucky looking for Wanda, Natasha, and Tony. Your three unaccounted for teammates. While Jarvis still had heartbeat signatures from all of them Steve begins to audibly worry the longer the search takes. You find Tony first half his suit fried and fighting unconsciousness Steve picks him up lightly before running back to the others. You and Bucky continue deeper in the battlefield luckily it doesn't take long you find both red heads close to eachother, the two of them having gone down in some last stand together. Natasha has a bad cut on her abdomen but the bleeding has mostly stopped indicating the blade didnt hit any artery. Wanda has nasty cuts to both arms including a gash on her thigh which she seemed to have temporarily mended with the last of her magic. Bucky moves towards Wanda but you grab his shoulder moving ahead of him towards Wanda going around Natasha's injured form. You miss the tears that form in the Black Widows eyes not that you'd of cared for them anyway. Bending over Wanda you push her messy hair out of her face before giving her a once over.

"Always have to go a bit overboard don't you witch?"

You ask as you examine her arms before leaning towards her thigh noting the seriousness of the injury.

"Go hard or go home. Isn't that what you tell me in the gym?"

Her accented voice replies and for the first time in one hundred and twenty three days a small smile plays on your lips.

"Yes, yes it is."

You tuck your arm under Wanda's legs before placing your other behind her back.

"Hold onto me, we need to get you to med asap your leg is in seriously bad shape."

The witch hums in response her magic use taking its toll but doing as instructed as you lift her bridal style turning to Bucky who held Natasha in a similar fashion The two of you take off in a cool jog, your eyes constantly scanning the witch in your arms. Approaching the rest of the team and medical you waste no time heading straight to Banner as he finishes looking over Tony.

"She's in rough shape, the cut to her thigh hit an artery."

Banner immediately gets to work the moment you lay the girl on the table.

"Don't pass out on me now Wanda."

You say as you see her eyelids begin to flutter causing a light chuckle to leave the red heads lips.

"After you you call me Wanda, I would never."

On the quinjet you watch Wanda from affar for a minute mind running a million miles a second but once you see Natasha trying again to apprach you, you make up your mind. Grabbing the book you knew Wanda was reading earlier you go to sit beside the woman who was laying with her eyes closed.

"Would you like me to read to you?"

You ask after a beat of slience. Green eyes crack open looking your way before smiling.

"I would love that."

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #natasha x you #angst #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romonoff x y/n #natasha cheating #bagdaddyb

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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 2 months

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Was Javier Garcia "not bisexual enough" in ANF?

I feel like everyone reading the title of this essay is going to say, "Well, yeah? Obviously? Javi didn't show any interest in men outside of that one optional moment of flirting with Jesus and then he was confirmed bisexual by one of the writers after the season ended. If they wanted to make him bi, they should've done more with it because that's not enough."

That's a commonly expressed opinion no matter where you look, and it's not like it's unfounded, either.

On a surface level, I agree. While I understand the excitement of learning a character is canonically bi, in the case of Javier Garcia it still feels like celebrating crumbs tossed to us by Telltale after they had their cake and ate it, too. They snuck in some bisexual representation at the last minute for queer audiences without it being explicit so the homophobes wouldn't throw a tantrum.

Stuff like that happens. Sometimes the representation is subtle or implied in the subtext. Or, the queerness is condensed into something digestible and sanitized for straight audiences. Or, it's stated after the fact with little to no actual evidence to support it in canon.

Hell, even if it is obvious, like with Clementine being bisexual in TFS, you still have biphobes who will die on the hill of denial. Even now, in the year 2024, we have people insisting "Clem being bi came out of nowhere! They should've showed it in earlier seasons if they wanted it to make sense. I'm not homophobic but here's my essay PROVING that violentine is bad and forced and that Clem isn't bi!" Or, on the other extreme, "Clementine is a lesbian to me, bisexuality isn't real :)"

But I've already talked about Clementine and what her bisexuality means to me. I want to talk about Javier now.

He's an interesting case, both in the way his queerness was handled and portrayed in the game, and how audiences received it... as in, a lot of people said, "That's great and all, but is it really representation when it's not actually present? It's not enough."

That. That right there: "It's not enough." That's what I want to break down and examine.

Is Javier Garcia not valid as a queer character because he didn't reach this concept of "enough" in the eyes of the player? But what would have been "enough" then? Do people really understand what they're asking for when they discuss what they think Telltale should've done? Does it actually matter if Javier is queer when it comes to the plot and his journey as the protagonist, and if it doesn't matter, is that okay?

Should we just accept these crumbs sprinkled in our hands?

I want to make it clear that I'm but one bisexual examining a bisexual character and doing an analysis. I've climbed out of my bog to write this because I want to discuss Javier and the writing as it pertains to his queerness, or lack thereof. I'm also aware that I'm not providing any irrefutable, concrete evidence here one way or the other; I'm speculating about Javier through a queer lens. I encourage any other bi, pan, or other queer person to add to these discussion points, whether in agreement or not.

Prior to TFS, the queer representation in TWDG wasn't great...

Though the games do get progressively gayer as the seasons go on. And some even get to live! Progress!

S1 had... uh, none? Wait, is that right? ...Yeah, no, I'm tuning my gay radio and it isn't picking up any signals, Captain. Nothing gay in these waters.

S2 had Walter and Matthew, who both died shortly after being introduced. There's some homoerotic undertones between Luke and Nick but nothing was ever confirmed. Also, they both died, so... not great.

The Michonne mini-series had Jonas and Zachary, but Zachary will always die no matter what. Jonas can die, too, but it's determinant. Paige was confirmed to be queer by the writers, though. Uh, progress? Kind of? Not really, it's never talked about and you only pick up on her feelings for Sam if you squint and pay close attention. But hey, at least she got to live!

Then, in ANF we have Javier, our playable protagonist, and Paul "Jesus" Monroe, a gay character who also showed up in the comics and TV show. Would'ja look at that, they both got to live! I should also mention nothing was ever confirmed about Ava but... c'mon, y'know? Captain, there's a faint signal on my radio; when you know, you know. Except she died, to, so... still not great.

Then came TFS, who really said, "Screw you, here's all the gay!"

They gave us bisexual Clementine with both of her romance routes. Violet, Minerva, James, mentions of his past boyfriend, Charlie... Aasim was planned to be bisexual and I don't see why we can't reclaim that for him, and one day I'll crawl out of my bog to write my analysis on the queer-coding/subtext of Louis' character because if I read "lmao Louis is such a Straight" one more time, I'm going to let the gators take a bite out of me just so that I can feel something other than irritation for once.

Sigh. It's so hard being a "Louis ain't straight" truther out here, so few understand.

My plights aside, there's no avoiding the queerness of TFS. Even if your Clementine doesn't romance anyone, or romances Louis, you can't avoid the fact that Violet and Minerva were girlfriends at one point. It's determinant if James will tell you about Charlie, but that doesn't change the fact that James is gay.

But it runs deeper than that. This is a story about these troubled youth who were abandoned by their families and teachers, the ones who were supposed to love and help them, because "something was wrong with them, they did something bad... they need fixing."

These young people have to fight against an oppressive group of adults looking to steal their autonomy, change them, mold them into what's expected to survive. Their identities don't matter to the raiders. All the raiders care about is erasing such identities so that they fall in line and obey, and if they don't comply, they die... or worse.

Yes, it's a story about Clementine and AJ finally finding a home, but no matter how you play, it's also a narrative steeped in queer themes and subtext. You can tell that the people who made it not only cared about these things and wanted them weaved throughout the story, but that some of them were queer themselves.

But where does that leave us with Javier?

With everything TFS did, it's easy to look back at ANF with a critical eye and pinpoint its flaws in every aspect. While I don't believe it's the worst game Telltale ever made [I mean, Minecraft Story Mode exists], in my opinion, it's the messiest game in the main series. It's not bad, but I'd much rather play S1 or TFS.

For all the criticism it received, most players did like Javier as the playable protagonist. Well, they did once they got over the fact that Clementine wouldn't be taking on that role again, and was instead relegated to only being playable in flashbacks.

Javi's personality can vary depending on player choices, but for the most part, he's a charismatic man who loves his family. He used to be a professional baseball player before he was booted from the league for gambling. He can be cocky and sarcastic, and it usually lands him in trouble. He tends to cope and deflect using humor. He has a past of being irresponsible and selfish; he wasn't even there when his father died, despite knowing he was dying of cancer. His relationship with David is complicated, only made messier if he and Kate end up together. He's trying his best... for the most part. Javi even ends up being a father figure to Gabe and Mariana after they all thought David was dead, and he's very open about his grief following Mariana's death.

But given everything we learn about him while playing ANF, how do we know Javi isn't straight? After all, his main love interest is Kate, a woman. He also has opportunities to flirt with Eleanor, another woman. He doesn't show any signs of being attracted to any of the men who are around... until Paul "Jesus" Monroe.

At the end of ep5, Javi and Jesus have a conversation where one of the dialogue options is, "I like you, Jesus." Granted, that doesn't have to mean "like-like;" you can say you like someone without any romantic intentions. Plus, Jesus IS a cool character. Players who picked that option likely weren't thinking of it in a romantic sense.

It's the way that Jesus responds to this option, though: a flirtatious smile, lidded eyes, the deep dip of his voice.

Javier: I gotta admit, man. You're a fucking badass! Jesus: You're a real charmer... You know that? Through and through.

It's not difficult to see Jesus is being flirtatious, and Javi sees it, too. How does he react?

Forgive me, but I'm about to over-analyze this six-second gif. I love his reaction so much. That subtle jump of his shoulders as if a jolt just ran through his gut at the way Jesus lowers his voice. Surprised, and then the movement of the brows, the slide of the eyes, and the little upturn of the mouth says to me "Oh… oh." Caught off guard, perhaps a little bashful.

Option 1: Javier: Oh, you know what they say. Takes one to know one. Jesus: That they do. Option 2: Javier: Are you really sure you don't want to stay? There's room. Jesus: Oh, uh... I'm sure there is, but... we got other people depending on us, Javi. Just the way it is. Option 3: Javier: Meant to tell you... That, uh, armor you got is great. Jesus: Oh... Oh, uh... Hmm... Well, uh... Thanks, um... It gets the job done.

Javi knows what Jesus is getting at regardless of your choice. He understands this is flirtatious, but is startled since he likely didn't consider that Jesus likes men, too. We the audience have a better chance at knowing if, especially those familiar with the character from the comics and the TV show. Javi wouldn't because why would he? It's not like Jesus is obvious and flaunting with the fact that he's gay.

What's funny about that is, given our topic of discussion, we could also argue that Jesus wasn't gay enough, couldn't we? If we're going to pick on Javier for not being more open about his sexuality, then it's only fair that we pick on other characters, no? Did Jesus need to be gayer? Would that improve ANF?

In fact, now that I think about, was James gay enough in TFS? Was one moment where he talks about his boyfriend, a scene that's determinant so not every player got it, enough? What about Minerva? We know she and Violet were girlfriends before Marlon traded her away, that's information that's unavoidable, but did she actually reach this apparent high standard of "enough" in the eyes of the audience?

Are we entitled to unequivocal evidence of queerness, and the heaping amount we deem necessary, otherwise it's not good enough and shouldn't be bothered with at all? Are more casual displays of queerness bad?

I can already hear people jumping to defend James and Minerva, and likely Jesus, against this because "it's totally different!"

Sure. Javier's situation is different from James, Jesus, and Minerva's respective situations. James actually uses the word boyfriend and he keeps a picture of him and Charlie in his pocket. Jesus appears in The Walking Dead universe outside of the game with more evidence of queerness. Minerva's past relationship with Violet is made clear even when you don't pursue Violet's route, not to mention the underlying metaphor of conversion with her being changed/brainwashed/traumatized by the raiders to be just like them.

Javier is different because that scene with Jesus is the only in-game evidence of his queerness, right? Then he had to be confirmed as bisexual by one of the writers once ANF ended.

Surely, they could've brought up the fact that Javier's bi earlier, right? Made mentions of a past boyfriend, or had a flashback about Javi coming out to his family? Why only let him flirt with Kate and Eleanor? Why wasn't there an option to flirt with Tripp, or some other male character? What about a darker turn where David didn't accept Javi for it? David's portrayed as an antagonist, anyway, why not toss a little homophobia into the mix? Why not reveal it if Javi rejects Kate? What if Kate was so hurt by the rejection that she asked him, "It's true, David was right. It's because you like men, isn't it?"

It feels like they decided at the last minute to just toss it in, like someone walked into Telltale one day and said, "Y'all, I just thought of the funniest thing- Javi should be bi so that we can make jokes about him swinging both ways!" And then everyone clapped.

Here's the deal: Something about this sits differently with me, and that's probably thanks to one of ANF's writers, Adam Esquenazi Douglas.

He's the one that confirmed Javier as bisexual.

Adam had his hand in writing for 4/5 episodes, and he said he wrote the scene where Javi can flirt back with Jesus, but it's that last line of his: "After all, they always say write what you know."

I don't know how many of you who are reading this are writers, or creators in general, but I assume many of you are. It doesn't matter if you write fanfiction, create fanart, write essay posts or headcanons or whatever. I have a firm belief that creative people pour so much of themselves into their work that, if given enough material and studied enough, you can get a glimpse of their soul. Even if done unintentionally, we project ourselves into these works; the characters, themes, conclusions, everything.

Am I suggesting that Adam was secretly a bisexual mastermind who threaded queerness throughout the entirety of ANF and we were all too blind to see it? No, and if he did, then he needs to step forward and tell me so that I can study ANF frame by frame to compile the secret evidence into a new essay.

...Actually, on second thought, maybe don't do that to me, Adam.

My point is, yes, it's true that it's likely Javi being bi was added in at the last minute... but can we really dismiss Javier as "not bisexual enough" when Adam had influence over Javi's character throughout the whole season? And I ask again: is the casual queerness of Javier bad?

Time to speculate and answer some of those questions about Javier

Let's talk about Kate for a minute. She is Javier's main love interest, whether you choose to accept her feelings or not, so she can give us a good point of reference for what Javi looks for in a partner.

Kate and Javi share a similar sense of humor that bounces well between the two. Kate wants to travel, Javi's well traveled from his time as a profession baseball player. They both exist in this space of "we're kind of the family screw up." Granted, Javi's more in it than Kate is, but you can see parts of her that come through where she's a little rebellious, a little not good enough [ironically]. They both feel trapped in their situations; Kate in her marriage, Javi in a slow downward spiral of not knowing what to do with himself now that he's booted from his career. They have complicated relationships with David, and together, they've raised Gabe and Mariana through the years after they believed David was dead.

They're a lot alike in many ways, so this is hardly an opposites attract type of romance.

What's interesting is if you then look at Jesus, he has some similar qualities to Kate; a sense of humor even when things are looking bleak, they to help and protect people, are willing to throw themselves in danger to save Richmond. Then if you add Eleanor, the other person Javi has some flirtatious dialogue with, you can apply those qualities to her, as well... though the big difference with her is Eleanor sells the group out because she wants to stay.

With the little information we have, we can speculate on Javi's preferences. He prefers someone more similar to him. I know, I know, everyone loves a good opposites attract tale, they're so different but similar at their cores, they fill in each other's gaps, yada yada... except not everyone is like that, obviously.

My working theory is that a partner who would act as the opposite of Javi would be someone who acts like David... and does Javi really want to date someone like his brother? Though that then opens up a whole can of worms since if Javi and Kate are so similar, and David married Kate... this isn't an essay about David, but that's certainly a thing to chew on.

With that, I suppose we can answer the question, "But if Javi's bi, why didn't he flirt with any men prior to Jesus?"

What men?

No, seriously, where are all these men Javi's supposed to flirt with? Are they hiding? I know you hid them in the game, Adam, where are they?

Wait, do you mean Tripp?

I don't want to step on the toes of any Javi/Tripp shippers out there, but let's actually think about this. When we meet Tripp, Javi's just been separated from his family. He was knocked out and tied up by these assholes who caught him siphoning their gas, then this teenager cut down a tree which resulted in him getting into a car accident. Said teenager then tried to rob him before agreeing to escort him back to his family but first, they gotta go to Prescott. I wouldn't say Javier's in the flirtatious mood by the time he meets Tripp.

But he can flirt with Eleanor, right?

So, why not Tripp?

Because Tripp is a man and he has feelings for Eleanor. That's made quite clear from ep1. He told Javi that he and Eleanor had a thing once. Sure, Javi could still harmlessly flirt with him, but have we stopped to consider that Javi isn't as confident with openly flirting with men like he is women? After all, who initiated the actual flirting between him and Jesus in ep5? That would be Jesus, and it happens after the danger is over and Javi doesn't have to worry about dying for a little bit.

Listen, I understand that Tripp is big. He's built like the lumberjack of our dreams. He has a nice beard. He's not afraid to talk about his feelings even when he fumbles all over them. He's strong and caring and brave. He could easily toss me over his shoulder like I'm a sack of flour and then throw me across the room... what's not to love? Surely, if Javi actually liked men, he would've made a move on Tripp at some point.

Except, would he? Is Tripp even Javi's type? Because I'm pressing X to doubt.

Also, why does he need to?

This is where I question why some people think Javi has to flirt with a bunch of men to "prove" he's bisexual? I'm sorry, do you believe there's a quota all bisexuals have to meet to maintain their membership card? You have to flirt with this many genders a month otherwise they'll revoke your premium status?

Sometimes I wonder if people unintentionally lean into the "promiscuous bisexual" stereotype, or if they do genuinely believe that bisexuals have to express interest in multiple people of different genders in order to prove themselves queer enough.

Did we ever stop to think that Javi's just not like that? An open flirt, I mean. Yeah he's charismatic and funny and all that, but Kate, Eleanor, and Jesus all initiate the romantic dialogue with him first; Kate tells him she needs to get laid hint hint, Eleanor calls him pretty, and Jesus calls him a real charmer.

Tripp never gives him any indication that he's interested or that he even likes men, so why would Javi make a move?

As for any other man? Again, what men? Max? Dr. Lingard? Clint? Conrad? And forget adding a new character to ANF; it could barely handle the characters it already had and you want to add a new one just for Javier? Let's face it, Tripp was the best option and that's just it, he wasn't an option.

"But my Javi WOULD flirt with Tripp and the game didn't give me the option!"

And there it is.

Javier isn't your OC

ANF isn't a massive RPG where starting a new game brings you to a character creation menu, and you get to decide every factor about the character you want to play.

ANF is an episodic, point-and-click Telltale game, and Javier isn't your OC. Like with Lee and Clementine, there are some things you just don't get a say in, and I think that gets to the player sometimes.

When I sit down to play a Dragon Age game, I go into it knowing that my character is mine, I get to decide who they are and who they're interested in. DA as an RPG has the capacity to give me a bunch of romantic options both in and out of my party that shape who my character is.

When I sit down to play TWDG, I go into it knowing that while I have my own Lee, Clementine, and Javi, I didn't create them but I am influencing who they become. I know it's a Telltale game, and that means limitations.

These games have always had the "illusion of choice" criticism chucked at them from the beginning. Usually that pertains to the choices you make that affect the overall story, but ultimately don't matter in the end.

For example, it doesn't matter if you save Carley or Doug because no matter what, they both die. My counter-argument for this has always been that the choice does matter in the way that it shapes your playable character, and how if affects the characters around you. A Lee who saved Doug over Carley had reasons for making that choice, and in turn, has a different experience going forward than a player who chose to save Carley.

Does it matter who shoots Duck in the woods after he's bitten? Or if he's left to turn? No matter what, he's going to die, so is that the illusion of choice? I don't believe so, because it does matter. It affects player experience.

That being said, I believe players who become invested in this series, especially those who engage in fandom, develop a warped sense of what should've been, forgetting the nature of a Telltale game. I know this because that's the foundation my blog was built on.

Javier Garcia isn't a blank slate. You didn't create him. He had a life before the start of the game, he has a personality that you didn't choose for him, and there are things you have no control over. If anything, we act as an influence over the TWDG playable protagonists. Most every option given is something that could reasonably play into their character. I say "most" because we all remember that [GLASS HIM] moment where Javi tells David that Kate's going to leave him and we were all like "THAT'S NOT WHAT I THOUGHT THAT OPTION WAS!" and it felt out of character.

Anyway, you don't dictate who these characters are but you get sway over the direction they take.

Javi can be a real prick to everyone, but that plays into the selfish and entitled part established with his character from the beginning. You can play him as genuine, trying to step up and do better for the sake of his family, another thing brought up from the very beginning.

"But why couldn't I make Javi flirt with Trip!?"

Because it's not an option. I don't know what else to tell you. I don't know what you want me to tell you.

ANF is a Telltale game that centers about Javier Garcia. It's a story about a man who, prior to the outbreak, screwed up and was wasting his life away. His relationship to his family sat upon a rocky foundation, crumbled by his own hands. He wasn't even there when his father died. We follow this man through a story of a family trying to survive, we watch him reunite with his brother and risk losing everything that kept him grounded and going. He experiences grief and anger and sorrow and happiness. In the end, he comes out of it all a different man, for better or worse.

That man just also happened to be bisexual.

And that's the thing: This isn't a story about Javier's sexuality. He isn't going around making moves on these elusive men that mastermind Adam Esquenazi Douglas maybe hid in the game somewhere because the game isn't about Javi liking men.

It's a game about his complicated relationships with Kate and David made messy by Kate being in love with him, and whether or not Javi loves her, too.

It's about Javi helping Clementine back on her path after she's been alone and bitter for so long. It's about them fighting to take down a group of people doing really shitty things to other communities. It's about losing Mariana and avenging her by killing the man who shot her. It's about Gabe feeling conflicted about his father, a man he always wanted to be just like, after realizing that David isn't this idealized figure Gabe thought he was.

It's about the promise Javi made to his father.

The fact that Javi happens to be bi doesn't matter in the grand scheme of the plot. It's just something that's apart of who he is, but because it's a small detail we feel was added in at the last minute, we decide it's not enough.

But what if it is enough? Do we even truly know what this concept of "enough" is?

Throughout writing this piece, I've found myself in a loop.

I'm happy Javier is bisexual. -> But should I be? -> We shouldn't settle for crumbs, we deserve more explicit representation. -> But is there really anything wrong with casual representation where the story doesn't focus on sexuality? It doesn't take away from other stories that do. -> I'm happy Javier is bisexual. -> But should I be?

Lather, rinse, repeat.

Queer stories are important and our voices need to be heard. We need stories that don't shy away from experiences that are hard to stomach. We need queer stories told by queer people. We need stories that are unapologetic, that aren't afraid to face their audience with pride. Stories that don't say "yeah but we have to bend a little to the bigots to maximize our profits." We need these stories that inspire us, hurt us, make us cry and piss us off. We need queer stories with happy endings that give us hope, that push us to seek a better future so that new generations of queer people don't feel alone in their struggles. We need queer stories that make us feel heard, seen.

Do stories with casual representation of queer characters fit in there somewhere, too? I think they do, because TFS is a casual representation story.

Clementine is bi and it isn't a big deal; she never has a moment where she's openly questioning, she doesn't have this big coming-out scene, there's no tears shed or anything. She isn't stomping around with her bi pride flag and announcing who she is with a heartwarming speech.

She just is.

Same thing with Violet. She never comes out to Clementine as a lesbian, no one ever calls her that, she just is.

Clementine's romance with Violet is treated just as it is with Louis, sincere and normal. No one questions her or Violet because to the Ericson crew, it is normal. They knew Violet and Minerva were together before but no one has any quips about it, positive or negative.

If you romance Violet but then save Louis, he makes mention that Clementine and Violet are close so why save him? But Louis, for as much as people side eye him for making jokes and never taking anything seriously, doesn't say anything more. He could've made a joke, "Ah, you like girls, I guess I never stood a chance then, haha." He doesn't, because it's not something out of the ordinary for him and it's not something he feels the need to pry over.

If you go fishing with Violet and Brody, you find the carved heart with Violet and Minerva's initials and AJ asks what it means. Clementine can tell him they were girlfriends, and AJ doesn't go, "Oh, that's weird," or "Huh, I didn't know girls could like each other." He just goes, "Oh. Love." and moves on because he grew up differently, it isn't a big deal to.

Even the antagonists aren't out here spewing homophobia, at least that I recall.

The Ericson crew are a generation that understands and accepts. Where Clementine could end up with either Louis or Violet and no one will raise a brow, or even feel compelled to signal their alliance like, "Ah, yes, I am accepting of you and your choice, good for you, I am an ally, I'm making this about me."

The Final Season of TWDG is great, and it proves that the writers at Telltale at the time wanted to explore these topics earnestly. It wasn't pandering or trying to score "woke points" with the LGBTQ+ community like some bigots will insist. If it were, it would've been way more obvious about it, I think.

Casual queer stories or serious stories that tackle the hardships of being gay?

Like the bisexual I am, I like both and everything in between.

Clementine didn't need to prove her bisexuality as "enough" in TFS, but since the circumstances were different, did Javier?

I'm going to take the potentially controversial road and say no. I understand why we wish they did more, and I understand why people have frustrations over creators dropping that information without actually having to commit in their work... but I also have some appreciation for the casual reveal of Javi being bi, regardless of why it was dropped.

Javier is valid. He didn't need to "prove" anything.

In a way, I believe we do have some control over the portrayal of Javier, and that's by engaging in fandom. If you were disappointed that Javi's queerness wasn't explored in game, then find a fic that does explore that side of him, or write your own. Engage with other people and their work about it. Comment on fanart, fics, and thought pieces. Write brain dumps. Find other Javi/Tripp shippers and prove me wrong, prove that Tripp is indeed Javi's type and have fun while doing it.

Telltale gave us the crumbs, so let that inspire us to bake a cake.

I don't think this concept of "not enough" is the most productive way we could go about discussing topics like this. Not everyone has the same level or standard, and every work is a unique case. But I think it is fun and productive to share ideas of what we would've done differently so that it may inspire us.

ANF, for all of its flaws, could be a tool used to teach us where our priorities are in storytelling, and influence what we want to create ourselves.

In conclusion: Javier Garcia is enough to me.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to crawl back to my bog and begin research into the meaning and metaphors behind walkers and their existence.

But before that, I want to give a big thank you to @pi-creates for making the Javi gif used in this essay, as well as for listening to all my bullshit during the writing process.

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iamnotshazam · 4 months

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i saw the LotR films before ever reading the books and i love both. i turn now more to the books than the movies for enjoyment.

but i also feel like the three movies just. fucken. cracked it out of the park with some important things and i had NO idea how good i had it as a little nerd delving into the extended edition dvd extras. if i were a fan in the gritty-obsessed 90's hearing rumors of these movies, i would have expected at best stuff like: B-list acting that occasionally broke through with honest emotions. some skilled costuming and weaponry popping up in important scenes but mostly just knock-off viking opera aesthetic. homebrew DND imagery that made it painfully obvious by contrast which scenes they actually spent money on the set design and dressing.

and WETA and New Line and everyone on this!!! they did NOT accept lower standards cause it was fantasy! everyone else would have. This was genre filmmaking, this would have been perceived at the time as more like How the Grinch Stole Christmas than a Cecil B Demille-level epic movie. And the costuming department, composer, propsmaster and set designer all said "NO" and put their whole pussies behind it!

Jesus Christ the quality in those movies! Ian McKellan has undershirts like Gandalf the White might have! Bernard Hill has realistic quilted padding underlayers all made in the style a Rohirrim tailor and armorer would have made! Minas Tirith has a rat catcher because someone took a doodle and decided that would make sense in the lived reality of a massive city! Movie makers do not usually do this. It is NEVER about what isnt seen or necessary for the shot. You are judged professionally not by if you can cut corners in order to help production and still seem good, but by HOW MUCH.

I cannot blame anyone who worked on the Amazon series in the hands-on creative roles because the results are what they have been trained to do. Blame executives. Blame executives! Of course chainmail is going to be, i dunno, plastic or sewn into the edges of costumes if you dont have the money or time for real chain mail! And because it cannot be overstated how unusual the LotR trilogy filmmaking process must have been. It's like being given an average lower middle class family grocery budget and told to make a fancy Christmas dinner for 20 all by yourself with no help versus having a trained staff, a blank check, and Martha Stewart on retainer. That's not an exaggeration. That's the rhetorical gulf that someone (Valar BLESS them) in the bureaucracy had to wade across to convince execs to buy into the details. The Lord of the Rings movies are WEIRD.

And it shows. Bookfans bitch about the story changes, the balrog wings, the characterization differences. (Denethor was a reasonable person and even outsider Pippin could see he was very admirable to the people of Gondor, which made it sooooo much creepier when he suddenly snapped but i digress) but NEVER about the music. the filming locations. the set designs. the costumes. the props. the things that i really think count the most to help invest people in a different world!

No one ever complains about taking out the scene where Rohan is summoned to Gondor's aid with the Red Arrow, because yeah they could have made it work, they made the importance of other props like Andúril and, oh yeah, the One Ring very clear, but they had a better idea.

The beacons.

The beacons were not in the book.

Not in the same way, really, because while incredible to think about the narrative style was close third person, and you cannot follow beacons to rhapsodize about them when you're a tired hobbit getting saddle sore crossing national borders with a grumpy old wizard. Pippin sees the Beacons of Gondor at a distance when he's falling asleep and Gandalf tells him they're a mustering signal within Gondor. Which makes sense, really, they require some upkeep and would be awkward for two nations to negotiate how to handle - nevermind. That's it. That's all the beacons are in the text.

Someone adapting the script saw a moment that was ho-hum in the book but realized ! 💡⚡️That would look really great on camera! And it is now routinely listed as one of the most important cinematic moments of anything, ever.

There are so many things I still want to ask Peter Jackson, "Why???" but the original trilogy movies overall? Work. They work and they do more than work, they helped elevate an entire artform that I don't honestly know that much about and oh god i usually dont ramble about them like this im embarassed is this already acknowledged in tumblr tolkien circles? or are we just split into different little fandoms in order to keep the peace?

#tolkien #peter jackson #weta workshop #gondor #rohan #gandalf #pippin #theoden #the lord of the rings #lotr #denethor #the movies . . . is good? the movies is good!!!#jrrt

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baguettehead · 2 months

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Luke Castellan X Child of Hades (she/her reader)

Summary - Y/n first arrived at Camp Half-blood when she was 16, it was weird and difficult at first but she met people who made it better and maybe the love of her life?? They're not quite sure yet...

A/n - I know I haven't posted since 2021 but look, the creative juices are flowing and Luke Castellan has me by the balls and he's twisting real fucking hard so...

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When you first arrived at Camp Half-Blood you were bloody and confused, to say the least. You had just finished fighting, and killing, a Cyclops. Which apparently exist now, before stumbling into Camp Half-Blood and passing out from blood loss. Honestly, pretty cool way to die you thought as you looked up to the clear sky before your eyes closed and you were out. You woke up in a weird room, got told you were a child of a Greek God, and had a new scar stretching from your collar bone to your shoulder, cool.

Two months later you were claimed. You're sitting in the Hermes cabin when you hear screams from outside. Being fairly new to the whole demi-god thing, you don't immediately jump out of bed and rush to the noise like the others in the Hermes cabin. Instead, you count to ten and slowly rise from your bed and peek your head out of the door to the cabin, only to come face to face with a hellhound. How it got into camp, no ones quite sure, but its staring you down and you're sweating bullets.

"hello.." did you just fucking talk to the hellhound? You could've sworn your survival skills were better than this. But it just tilts its head at you, almost like it recognized you.

As kids with spears and swords begin to circle the creature it sits, staring straight at you, as if waiting. Everyone stops and stares, most looking from the hellhound to you and back again. You look up, confusion in your eyes, begging for help, but they just stare like they're waiting for something. Whether that is for the hound to maul you or not you're not quite sure. Looking up from the hellhound once more you lock eyes with Luke Castellan, someone you had slowly begun to trust at camp. He nods his head as if to tell you to continue and signals the others to wait. Taking a deep breath you straighten your back and look directly into the hell hounds red eyes, "Go home" you say firmly. The hound nods its head, turns around, and begins to walk out of camp. You hold your breath as you watch the hellhound leave over the hill until its gone. The large crowd that accumulated stares in awe before someone lets out a gasp and points above your head. You look up immediately, honestly expecting a dragon or something to fly down at you, only to see the mark of Hades floating above your head.

It's been three years since then, three years as a year round camper, and three years with some of the best friends you ever made.

"sup dickhead" Luke says as he sets his tray down next to you and slips onto the bench. "aw I love pet names" you sarcastically drawl while picking at your food. "Would you rather I call you sweetness? Or my Princess of darkness" he practically purrs the last name as your eyes go wide and a blush coats your cheeks. Your head snaps up to look at him.

His cheeks are red and blushing as he stares at you with nothing but love and adoration in his eyes. Like he thinks you are the most beautiful thing in the world, blessed by Aphrodite herself, but not fragile. No, Luke knows you're anything but fragile and can easily hold your own, and that makes him fall even deeper into this pit you have dug for him that he swears will be his grave.

But you don't see this, of course you don't, you're stuck in this treacherous loop of convincing yourself he only see's you as a friend while you're hopelessly in love with him.

Looking back down at your tray you mumble "Princess of darkness doesn't sound half bad", he laughs and pushes your shoulder, "Don't get pompous on me love, being a kid of the big 3 is getting to your head". You muster up the best innocent face you can before saying "what's it like hating from the outside?" you dissolve into a smug smirk as he deadpans at you causing you to fall into a fit of giggles he quickly joins.

As you're both laughing, you leaning on Luke and holding your stomach, Chris and Clarisse join you both setting their trays down. Lunch continues with he two of you bickering, Clarisse and Chris sharing knowing looks.

Later that day you join Luke again, this time for training. Chris mediates as well as you two tend to get carried away.

You often train together as your skill sets are pretty evenly matched even though he loves to hold the title of 'best swordsman in camps history' over your head, like daily. You're warming up and sparring when a group of campers join, notably a few Aphrodite girls, and begin to watch. You roll your eyes as Luke sends them a wave and cheeky smile, they blush and giggle, and you ignore the burning feeling in your stomach. One of the girls even sends you a dirty look, oh fuck no you're not doing this today.

"can you stop flirting with the Aphrodite girls for one minute so we can spar?" you grind out through your teeth, and Luke has the audacity to look smug. "jealous?" he raises his eyebrows looking you in the eyes.

Yea you're definitely kicking his ass.

Chris begins to look uneasy as you raise your sword and he signals the fight to start.

You circle each other before Luke initiates combat, swords making a loud clink as they mash together. You start out somewhat lazy, if theirs anything you know about Luke its his ego. So you let him think he's winning before focusing in on his week points. Luke might be better with a sword than you but you have more stamina. You start striking hard and fast barely giving him a break before you're able to sweep one of his feet and knock him to ground. Crouched over him, holding down the hand holding his sword with your right foot and pressing your sword to his neck, you smile at him. Right as you're about to claim your win he uses his body weight to flip you over and straddle your waist, holding your hands above your head. You struggle for a minute but give up, looking up at him, and realizing just how close to you he is.

His face is inches from yours and you can feel his panting breath on your face. Your breath hitches and a blush rises to your cheeks, but all you can seem to do is stare directly into his eyes. He pulls that stupid cocky grin once more and whispers for only you to hear "nice try princess" and all you want to do is grab the back of neck and smash your lips into his. You probably would have too if it weren't for Chris clearing his throat. Luke quickly jumps off you running over to Chris and you slowly sit up still processing what he said mere seconds ago. As you're staring off into space Luke walks back over to you and extends a hand, a worried look on his face.

"Are you okay?" he quickly asks pulling you up "m' fine" you mutter as you begin to pull away but he pulls you into his chest and begins looking you over for injuries. "did you hit your head? was i too rough? Gods I'm so sorry I got carried away" you cut him off by hugging him and muttering "I'm fine Luke, just got distracted a bit" he holds you there for minute, relishing in your touch, and you make a point to stick your tongue out at the Aphrodite girl over Luke's shoulder as she leaves with her friends. Chris laughs loudly but covers it with a cough as you send him a glare.

Eventually, and much to your dismay, Luke pulls away. He holds your shoulders, still keeping you close, and stares at you with the same look from earlier.

"You're beautiful" he mutters without breaking eye contact "I'm sweating like a pig" you retort and he laughs shaking his head. "go get cleaned up" and with that he kisses your forehead and jogs over to Chris to head back to the Hermes cabin.

You head back to the Hades cabin and bask in the silence for a minute. Silence is a rarity at camp. Hopping in the shower you let the cool water wash away all the dirt and grime on your skin and you think about what he said. Sure, he's called you pretty quite a few times but it was different this time. You've always been touchy with each other and forehead kisses are common but, for some reason this one gave you a spark of hope. As you're questioning basically the past 2 years of your life you hear a knock at the bathroom door and a muffled "almost done?". You realize you've been in the shower for longer than you planned and quickly turn off the water shouting "let me get dressed I'll be right out!" before stepping out and putting on a pair of shorts and oversized hoodie, one that you stole from Luke actually. You step out of the bathroom, still drying your hair, and see Luke on your bed flipping through one of your books.

He looks up and freezes. Sure, he's seen you in his hoodies many times but every time it takes his breath away. It doesn't help that you look ethereal right now. As you sit next to him he pulls you down to lay on his chest and begins scratching your head, your absolute weakness. You melt into him and his touch realizing just how tired you were after that match. You close your eyes and begin to drift into sleep when you feel him plant a kiss to your temple before whispering a barely audible "I'm in love with you".

Your eyes snap open and you can feel his breathing pick up. Raising your head you meet his eyes, not moving from his chest, and he begins "I knew I liked you when you stood up to the hellhound, you looked so scared" you stare at him while he looks past you with a soft smile on his face "but you did it anyways" he shakes his head "I knew I liked you but Gods" he pauses and you hold your breath "I never knew I held the ability to love someone this much" his eyes finally meet yours and he cups your face in his hands "I never knew i could hold my whole world in my hands" your eyes well up with tears and you try to speak but nothing comes out. So instead, you gently press your lips to his and try your hardest to convey all your emotions into one kiss. Pulling away you rest your forehead on his "you make everything worth it" you say staring into his eyes "all the monsters and the absent father, I would go through all of it a thousand times over if it meant I got to meet you" You wipe a fallen tear on his cheek and kiss him again both of you smiling into the kiss. Once you pull away you rest your head back on his chest, both of you adorning dopey grins.

"looks like we have a lot of time to make up for" he says

"we have the rest of our lives to do so" you reply before drifting off to sleep laying on the boy you love more than anything.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #percy jackon and the olympians #x reader #child of hades #hades #Luke Castellan x hades reader #hades cabin #pjo #pjo series #pjo fandom

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