#Man trauma messes ya up bad | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

penvisions · 3 months

Text

by the grit of sandpaper {chapter 3}

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader

Chapter Summary: With the overnight patrol behind you, it's now time for your annual leave from the roster altogether. But Joel doesn't know that and you're hesitant to tell him, feeling like it would be the best for you two to get some distance. But as with all things involving the man, it was hard to keep the distance.

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, illusions to past death, illusions to past trauma, blood, hurtful language, town gossip, rumors, negative feelings, pining, heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, lots of feelings, slight angst, hurt and comfort, joel miller's hands need their own warning, two (2} instances of joel miller gently touching reader, intentional flirting, unintentional flirting, talk of pregnancy, casual intimacy, urges to kiss joel miller get their own warning, sexual content, masturbation (f and m), yearning, protective joel, tommy is a scheming lil brother and we love him for it, fluff, this is so unbelievably soft, reader is described as smaller than joel (bc c'mon), reader has a commonly used nickname but no assigned name, joel and reader pov

A/N: i'm not really back in wake of some bad comments and confrontational haters, but love y'all ♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

A knock on your door the next morning caught you bundled up and out in the backyard, the sound echoing throughout your empty house. It was small: a simple one with a larger than average kitchen, a living room, one bathroom across the hall from the bedroom, and a laundry / mudroom with a deep utility sink and a few cabinets of storage. It’s where you kept the tools for the garden, where you washed and prepped everything you managed to grow before moving it into the kitchen space. But you were on the modest back porch, a cup of steaming coffee cooling in the early morning air as you looked out at the trees that took up a good chunk of the large area.

Dragging your eyes from the one that looked like it was about at the end of its life, a large crack running down through the trunk, you heeded the knock at the early hour. Knowing it could only be one of four people.

“Was worried I woke you for a moment, you sleep okay?” Maria greeted you as she waddled past you and moved into the kitchen. She spied the other cups worth of contents in the coffee maker and sighed in longing. The scent of it heavy in the air, mixed with cinnamon you were apt to put in with the grounds before brewing. But her sigh turned into a delighted hum as she shifted her attention to the cooling pan atop the stove and moved closer to inspect the baked goods settled on it.

“Probably not much better than you, momma. How you feelin’?” You slid a plate to her as she began to pick pieces off from one of the flaky breakfast hand pies you had made. She placed the one she had begun eating along with another before following you to the large table that ran through the middle of the room. Setting it down and pulling out the chair for her, you helped her to lower into it. With a caressing touch to her swollen belly, permission given from her months ago, you began to set up a kettle for some tea.

“Big.” She stuffed a large bite into her mouth, eyes fluttering at the taste of the filling. Crumbs of the flaky crust sticking to the front of her shirt, jacket having been shrugged off. “Olive, these are fantastic. Is there anything in here I shouldn’t be eating?”

“I wouldn’t have let ya get your hands on it if that were the case. Just bacon and onion jam, eggs, a little bit of milk, and a whole bunch of thyme. Nothing too bad.”

“Nothing too bad, my ass. You should totally make these for the mess hall on your next shift.”

Another knock on the front door stole the words from your mouth and you looked to the woman who all of a sudden had great interest in picking the crumbs from where they had fallen.

“Maria, what is this?”

“Can’t I call on a fellow morning bird without ulterior motives?”

“You could, but you didn’t this time around. I don’t get many visitors so I wonder who you- Oh! Good mor-morning, Joel.” Surprise overtook you as you were suddenly face to face with the man over the threshold of your front door. He was bundled up as well, though his hair was wet, slicked back and shining in the early morning sun peeking over the mountains.

“I just figured we could all chat about the Teton route.” Maria’s voice carried from the kitchen. But it didn’t break the stare you could feel as Joel’s eyes took in the apron you had thrown on earlier.

“Mornin’.” He rumbled, a hand reaching out from within his jacket pocket to swipe at your cheek. His touch burned, but you were frozen in place at such a forward action so early in the day. Lips parting as you tried to pull in a breath but you were sure all you managed to do was huff out what air was already in your lungs. “You got a lil flour or somethin’.”

“O-oh, um, thank you.” His hand lingered, the back of his knuckle dragged down your cheek and then the finger curled around the neckline, tugging slightly. Nerves sparkling as you felt the warmth from his hand so close to your neck, you could only swallow as his eyes finally met yours with a playful grin displaying that damned, endearing dimple normally hidden in his scruff.

“Never seen you so homey before, it’s a good look on you.” His voice was tipped low, just for you and you felt your stomach lurch. When you didn’t say anything, just continued to stand there caught like a fly in his trap, he chuckled and asked if you were going to let him inside. It was then you realized he had inched closer, crowding you in the doorway, with his hand still around the strap of fabric over your neck.

“Oh! Of cour-course, I’m so sorry. It must be the early hour taking my manners.” But you knew he wouldn’t believe that for a second, he knew you were a morning person. Something you had revealed to him on patrol. Just like he had revealed to you that he took any opportunity to sleep in, apt to hit snooze an embarrassing about of times if the sound even reached him. You had both laughed at the polarizing tendencies, ribbing each other about it throughout the day. It had been a good one, free of the underlying…tension of whatever had shifted when you had pressed your lips to his injuries. Something you would take back if it meant cutting the undercurrent of whatever had befallen your interactions.

“There’s, um, breakfast hand pies and one last serving of coffee,” You spoke as you turned your back on him and went to retrieve your own mug from the porch.

After the shuffle of greetings, of ushering Joel to take a seat at the table. You plated up two of the hand pies and poured the last of the coffee for him, setting it down in front of him with a small smile before fetching the whistling kettle and preparing a cup of tea for Maria who was already a bite into her second pastry.

“Now, the horse you two lost.”

Joel made a surprised sound, mouth biting into one of the pastries on his plate.

“It was my fault.” You rushed out before Joel could even respond around his mouthful. His eyes flicked to you across the table where you had finally taken a seat, watching as you willingly took the blame for the unfortunate event. “I wasn’t quick enough taking down the Infected that were coming at us. Two of them had set their sights on her, with all the noise she was making while another went after Joel on the ground.”

“And there was no use of anything other than the shotgun?”

“That’s correct.”

“Joel, do you agree with her synopsis?”

“Yes. She acted fast, but there was no way Kiana was gonna make it back, she had been freaking out the second they came outta the tree line, most likely would’ve run off.”

“She always was easy to spook, that’s why she was designated as your horse, calmed her down and got her to focus.” It made sense, Joel was a very level headed person, capable of gently focusing someone should their minds or attention wander.

“I wish every incident discussion was this lovely. No arguing, good food, people who don’t want to go around in circles. You two are truly one of the best pairs we have on the roster.” Maria stirred in a bit more honey into her tea, taking a sip as she looked you both over.

A nervous laugh bubbled up from you as you dug into your own pastry, unaware of them sharing a look.

“This is amazing,” Joel offered, reaching for the kitchen towel folded atop the table to clean his hands off. “You should make these your next shift at the mess hall.”

“I just told her that, imagine the buzz they would cause.”

“They’re not all that special.” You muttered, shoulders rising as you felt rather put on the spot.

“This filling, these onions? It had to have taken a lot of concentration to reduce them down so soft but not mushy. Take the credit where it’s due.” Joel hummed his agreement as he reached for his mug.

“You’re off patrol this week and next, to do your annual thing.” Tommy announced as he sat beside you, his tray thudding against the top of the table, laden down with food from this mornings offerings.

“I can still patrol and get what I have to done.” You didn’t look up from the notebook you were writing in, trying to map out the way you were going to turn the harvest of the olive trees in your backyard into. If you were being honest, patrol twice a week wasn’t so bad with the added allure of Joel Miller. But it would be hard to juggle it paired with the time of year. Every autumn you took out your dirtiest, most ratty pair of overalls and got to work picking the fruit from the trees. Taking your time to sort them, wash them, turn them into oil and pickle some of the others. It was just you, hands aching at the end of the day from spending it all at your kitchen table with various tools. But you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

The kitchen was your happy place. Even after the end of the world. Or maybe in spite of it.

But this year, you didn’t want to miss out on patrol, normally taking the two weeks off to sort everything out and give all your attention to the gift of fruiting trees. Even if…you felt like it would be good for you to get some space from the man you felt in every other thought. The past two weeks had yielded quiet patrols, just the passing of a thermos between hands. You were sure you had overstepped a line by pressing your lips to his face, lost in the moment of adrenaline and want after those Infected had tried to turn you both.

His eyes were heavy on you when he thought you weren’t looking, but searching for what you didn’t have the faintest clue. Perhaps he was thinking of a way to bring it up and let you down gently. Tell you that he hadn’t appreciated your affections that way. Whatever went on behind that handsome, rugged face you hadn’t a clue.

“We both know that’s a mighty lie,” He stuffed an overfull spoon of grits into his mouth, humming around it as he pointed the utensil at you. “Didn’t you say this would be the last year for one of them?”

Sighing, you set the pencil you had been writing with down. Trading it for the cup of coffee in front of you.

“Unfortunately, the trunk spilt when we had those winds come through in February. I’m surprised it bloomed any fruit to be honest.”

“It’s a fighter, like it’s caretaker.”

“Oh hush, tryna flatter me.”

“Don’t you know it.” He winked, cheeky smile growing wider underneath his mustache as his eyes caught sight of something over your shoulder. You were about to turn to see what had him so delighted when a pair of hands placed a tray right next to you. The burly form of Joel huffed as he settled into the seat beside you.

“Mornin’.” He greeted, placing plate of toast in front of you, his hand momentarily brushing against yours before he dug into his own food. You felt heat bloom up your neck and across your cheeks as Tommy feigned a cough to cover up a snicker. Joel leveled an unimpressed stare at the man, an eyebrow cocked and a warning in his eyes. You pretended not to see it, busy slathering a piece of the gifted toast with some butter left out on the tables for the breakfast service.

“Good mornin’, brother.” Tommy lilted, face lit up with something you were hesitant of. Scheming, the man was scheming, up to absolutely no good. And you had a hunch it involved not only you but the man beside you. Taking a bite of the toast, you noticed the way his face twitched before he started whatever he was up to. “How are you today?”

“Fuck off, Tommy.” The older man didn’t even look up from his plate, knowing from years of experience that his brother was aiming a mischievous look his way. “I gotta list a mile long of stuff to do this week and next, don’t have time for whatever else you’ve taken on.”

“That’s a shame,” He took another heaping bite, chewing it thoughtfully as he looked between you both, taking in the way neither of you were willing to look at the other. “Sorry, Olive. Looks like you’ve gotta fell that tree on your own.”

“That’s okay. I’m a big girl, did it the year before last and I’ll do it again this time around.” You downed the last two gulps of your coffee. Gathering up your notebook, you shoved out of your chair and stood, preparing to walk away. But he scrambled, quick on his feet and determined. Joel glanced at you, a parting nod the only indication from him.

“Well, seeing as you’ll be off patrol the next two weeks, that should give you enough time to take care of it.”

“Tommy!” You whirled around on your heel, eyes wide. You hadn’t wanted Joel find out this way, from his trouble making little brother with you right beside him.

“What’s he talkin’ about?” Joel turned with a loaded fork halfway to his mouth. Forgotten in wake of the sudden news. He looked taken off guard, shock coloring his features as he looked to you for answers.

“Didn’t she tell you, brother?” Tommy set his own fork down, tray nearly empty now. “Olive always takes this time of year off to tend to the trees. Harvest and make that lovely oil you see everywhere around town.”

“That’s yours?” His eyes danced around the mess hall, taking in the incriminating glass jars atop every other table. The light green contents revealing the literal fruits of your labor. The hours you would spend hunched over your own kitchen table working away on ensuring everything was perfect. He looked down to the warm plate of food in front of him, the roasted potato hash and scrambled eggs. “You’re the reason the town has cooking oil?”

“Yes, it is.” Feeling pleasure flutter at his impressed tone, you knew your voice had taken on a breathy quality. If Tommy’s growing grin was any indication, his teeth sparkling as he watched the two of you across from him. Joel had turned completely in his chair to face you, while you had pivoted your body in his direction. Both of you undoubtedly drawn to each other even in the most casual of ways.

“What are you gonna do with the wood? Didn’t you burn it and mix the ashes into the soil last time?”

“Yes, I did.” You gripped the notebook tight, fingers aching from the pressure. “It helped to reduce the acidity of the soil and ward off slugs from targeting the blooms once spring came around.”

“Well, uh, I can come by and lend a hand. If you needed it, but I don’t want to intrude if you’ve got it all under control.” Joel ran a wide palm over the back of his head, fingers brushing through the curls as he offered his help in a round about way. Something you suspected Tommy had anticipated. It took you a second to process his words, remembering the feel of his hair tangled around your own fingers. It had been soft despite a days’ worth of travel and an overnight stint atop a dusty mattress. You wondered how he cared for it, what it looked like slicked back fresh from the shower, water dripping from the ends of it and-

“Oh, that’s okay!” You shuffled on your feet, shaking the rather intrusive thoughts and not wanting to burden the man with another task. “You just said you’ve got a lot to do, don’t want to add to it.”

“I could shuffle a few things around, clear up an afternoon to come help ya out.” He insisted, something smoldering in his dark eyes. His tongue ran over his bottom lip as he regarded you carefully, as if he had noticed the lingering gaze on his movement. He shifted to pull that damned little note pad of his own from his back pocket and flipped it open. Looking over the long list penciled on the page.

“No, no, it’s okay, really. You don’t have to do that, Joel.” You waved your own notebook at him, hoping he realized you kind of wanted the space from him. Kind of needed it, actually. To get the image of his softened face out of your head and the ability to look at him without feeling a jolt of desire strike through your body. Space would probably be good, would allow you to reign everything in and be better equipped to ride alongside him once again. The lines had begun to blur and they needed to be defined.

“It’s no problem, I can-“

“It’s really okay, I can handle it. But uh- th-thanks for the offer.” You scurried away before he could add your name to the list among his other tasks. “More important stuff to tend to than a me-measly tree.”

“I really don’t’-“

“I’ve got it.” You called over your shoulder, leaving the two men to their breakfast.

The second you were walking through the door, Joel rounded on the younger man. The shit-eating smirk was securely in place among his brother’s features across the table. Irking Joel further.

“Shut up.”

“Oh brother, you got it bad.”

“Shut up, Tommy.”

“C’mon, she could really use the help. It’s just her.”

“No one offers to pitch in? The other women with personal gardens all help each other out.”

“It’s the age gap. Olive’s about a decade or so younger than them.”

Joel contemplated his brother’s words, thinking back on the thinly veiled disdain Marsha had voiced to him the last time he had been tending to the woman’s home. He knew you were younger, but he hadn’t anticipated it causing any problems with the rest of the settlements occupants just how it wasn’t the cause of any between you and him. At least, not any real problems. Age was just a number nowadays, if you were alive, you were alive. If you weren’t well, you weren’t. Friendships and connections blooming between people regardless of age and backgrounds in abundance as people clung to what they could in order to survive.

“Does anybody ever…talk about her to you?”

Shifting from annoying little brother to something more serious, Tommy looked over his brother as he chewed the bite he had just taken.

“What do you mean?”

“Marsha seemed to insinuate that Olive is common topic of discussion.”

“Marsha doesn’t like Olive. Never has.” Tommy scowled, stabbing at a chunk of potato rather harshly.

“Does it have to do with the patrol you won’t tell me about?”

“…yeah.” Tommy was suddenly very interested in the rest of his food, ignoring the look he could feel Joel pinning him with from across the table.

“Tommy.”

“Her old patrol partner was someone she showed up with, when we first brought her here. He and Marsha’s daughter got on quickly, were engaged within a year and planning on havin’ a kid or two.”

Joel was silent as he picked at his food. Marsha’s daughter, Millie, didn’t have any kids or a husband that he knew of. The two women sharing a home close to his.

“They blame her for what happened.”

“What did happen?”

“Joel, you’ve gotta ask your girl that. It’s not my place to give details.”

“She’s not my girl.”

“But you want her to be, c’mon, I can see it plain as day.”

“We are not talking about this.”

“I think she likes you back. But it’s hard to tell since she doesn’t get a lot of interaction around town aside from when she’s trading or cookin’.”

“She don’t like me like that. We’re just…friendly.”

It wasn’t friendly the way Joel took advantage of any reason to touch you. From soothing minor injuries, to brushing his fingers over yours as he passed you something, to brushing things you tended to smear along your cheek. Just to hear the hitch of your breath and to witness the way your eyes widened. It wasn’t friendly the way you were the last thing he thought of at night and the first thing he thought of when he woke up. It wasn’t friendly the way his gaze lingered on you while out on patrol or when he caught sight of you around town.

It wasn’t friendly the way he spent hours in his workspace sketching out designs and carving into wood in the hopes that you would enjoy what he was creating.

It wasn’t friendly the way he didn’t engage with you for worry of making you nervous, like he noticed he had begun to do. Stuttering every other word around him and others in a habit he couldn’t figure out was his fault or something you were just prone to do. It wasn’t friendly how he wanted to see if it was just him that caused it, wanted to see how quickly words would fail you completely if he were to focus his attention on you in a more than friendly way…

But his brother didn’t know anything about that.

Never one to miss out on the chance for a slow morning, you allowed yourself to wake up naturally.

The sun was just beginning its descent from the highest point in the sky, peeking in through the drawn blinds of your bedroom.

Your body was warm underneath the covers, sleep making your mind take the sensation and let it influence your dreams.

A large body hovered over you, looming like the mountains around the settlement. Protective, a sight to behold at any time of day, as steady as the day turns to night. But the body was so much closer, pressing your back down into the mattress, making your head spin with the heady feel of it.

Thump, thump, thump.

Heart beating hard as pleasure coursed through your veins, brought to life by the feeling of fingers smoothing over your skin. Trailing down over your belly button and through course hair to find your slick folds. Delving between them, parting them, caressing over your fluttering core and then in, producing an obscene sound as they filled you up. Another set of fingers gentle nudging that little bundle of nerves to light your body up even further, heat encompassing you, suffocating you as they quickened their pace.

Thump, thump, thump.

Your heartbeat was harsh in your ears, roaring loud and with a jolt, you realized it wasn’t your heart. It was the sound of someone knocking on your front door.

Eyes flying open, the phantom sensations of being pinned down, of thick fingers caressing the most intimate parts of your body, of the rasped-out nickname in a voice that wasn’t real were ripped from you. You were alone in your bed, your hands the only ones bringing you pleasure.

“Olive?” The faint call of that deep voice your mind had tried to convince you was whispering sweet nothings in your ear was down the hall and on the other side of your front door.

What was Joel Miller doing calling on you in the middle of the day, effectively splashing a bucket of cold water over you as you realized you had been fantasizing about him as you touched yourself.

Embarrassment and guilt squashed the pleasure that had been consuming you, lingering tingles making it hard to clear the fog of your sleep hazed mind. Throwing on the robe hanging on the back of your bedroom door, you took a deep breath to steady yourself before approaching the door he knocked on again.

He must’ve been preparing to walk off when you swung your door open, his back to you and a hand on rubbing on the back of his neck. He turned back at the sound, eyes taking in the disheveled form you were sure you made in your doorway. It was the afternoon, and here you were in a robe and hardly anything else, being pulled from your bed.

“Oh, hey- you were sleeping.” His eyes quickly averted, a hand waving at you as a blush crept up along the apples of his cheeks. You wondered what had him so flustered, his hands clenching and unclenching just below the sleeves of his jacket.

“I should’ve been up already, it’s okay.” You said quietly, taking in the bulk of him on your small stoop. It was a little disorienting, mind imagining him and now being faced with him so close. “D-did you need-“

“Was coming by to see if you needed any help with taking down that tree Tommy mentioned.”

You fell silent at the way he cut you off, his words low like your own, as if he was frustrated.

“Cause if you did all you had to do was ask.”

“I-I didn’t want to add to your list, that little notepad is always so full of-“

“I offered too and you said no. But you’re not even doing what you took the time off for.”

“Excuse me?” You leaned back from him, worry and your own annoyance flaring. Just because you took one morning to yourself didn’t mean you were shirking your responsibilities. His words hitting too close to the wound that everyone else’s had dug close to your heart.

“You take the time off every year, which you didn’t tell me about. Tommy blurted it out to get some sort of satisfaction out of your miscommunication and you’re not even taking care of the trees.”

“Joel-“

“You know what, just, never mind. I’m heading around back to take care of it for you. Go back to bed.”

And then he was stomping down the steps and rounding the side of your house. The gate creaking open to signal his entrance to your backyard.

“Well, excuse the fuck outta me, Mr. Miller.” You mumbled as you shut the front door and moved back to the bedroom. Dressing in a ratty pair of jeans and a long-stained t-shirt in a rush. Putting up your hair as you walked into the back room to retrieve the axe he would need for the work he took it upon himself to do.

It was hard not to stare, your eyes glued to the man as he expertly wielded the axe and chopped down the damaged olive tree. He had shrugged off his flannel after trimming it of the few branches that stretched from the trunk, leaving him in just the t-shirt he donned underneath. A crisp white that displayed the sweat on the small of his back and between his broad shoulders. A crisp white that displayed the bulge of his biceps as he worked. A crisp white that fell just over his waist and billowed up to catch on the spiral top of his notepad peeking out from his back pocket. A crip white that now displayed his rather toned backside to you free from obstruction…

Shaking your head, you continued to pick the fruit from the others. There were three rows of about ten trees, the one you were worried about in the middle of it all. Your movements made you feel like you were slowly circling around him, honing in on the man taking out whatever frustrations he had on the plant. Until everything was gathered, and you retired back inside as the sun beat down what little warmth it still had this late in the season.

The fruit was already washed in the utility sink, resting in strainers set over ratty towels to dry atop the long table in the middle of the room. A record played in the living room, soft guitar and brass filling the space.

Sighing, you poured yourself a few fingers of whisky and then a few into a second glass as you heard the thud of the axe being set against the wall in the back room and steps heading your way.

“Joel, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t know how.” You offered one of the glasses to him, taking in the way he swiped at his sweating forehead with the back of his arm.

“I know…I’m-I shouldn’t have come at you like that. I’m sorry too.” His fingers brushed yours as he took the peace offering. But he didn’t drink until you lifted your own glass and clinked it to his. “Just…wanted there to be a reason why you weren’t by my side for a little bit.”

Stepping forward to run a hand down from his shoulder to elbow in a comforting move, you motioned him to follow you.

Through the hours of the afternoon and into the evening, you explained the difference between the colors of the fruit. The flavor profiles of each, of how you always sorted even portions of the harvest out for oil, for pickling, for the raw fruit to be shared with the town. You walked him through the process of turning a small batch into a paste, straining it over and over again to produce the oil. Two pairs of hands slick with it as he helped you after he had asked how you managed to do it.

He had asked of your knowledge, prompting you to admit that it was all learned since arriving here and being assigned to the house with the trees in the backyard. That it hadn’t been something you carried with you beforehand. You asked after his woodworking, how it had turned into crafting small figurines.

And he answered much the same as you. Learned skills to help deal with and adapt to the slower way of life Jackson allowed you both to lead.

“You left one on the table.” His voice was right behind you, having followed you into the backroom. You turned to look at him over your shoulder before going back to placing the jars in your hand into a battered plastic crate. One was for the pickled and general olives, while another was for the oil you would make once the distraction of Joel Miller was gone from your kitchen. The only evidence of such from today’s activities in his hand.

“Oh, that one’s for you.”

“I couldn’t, you need it for trade. Everythin’ helps.”

“I insist, it’ll be good to have in your kitchen.”

“It’s just gonna sit there on the counter beside the stove.”

“Well, take it. Just in case.” You whispered. Noticing how close he had gotten in an attempt to hand the jar to you. He was close enough to smell the way the olive leaves had permeated his clothing. The perfume of the freshly chopped wood stained his skin in a heady way. You felt the counter dig into your hips, having unconsciously backed into it beside the deep sink.

“In case of what, sweetheart?” He lowered his voice to a raspy whisper, tongue peeking between his lips as he took in the way you had a smudge of dirt under your eye in the warm light of your kitchen bleeding into the backroom. His gaze snapped to his hand as you bravely tangled your fingers with his own. Feeling your lips curl into a playful smile, you leaned up and whispered into his ear.

“The food critic decides to play personal chef.”

Oh, he liked that. If the widening of his pupils was any indication, the way his breath caught in his throat and he swallowed as he pulled back a little to look over your face.

He leaned in to press a cautious kiss to your cheek, knowing there was no bruise or cut to disguise his move as anything other than the blatant want for it. The soft scratch of his mustache lighting you up.

Your breath fanned out across his face, skin prickling along his body at the warmth of it bouncing back to you. A small huff the only noise coming from you. His eyes flicked up to capture yours, and you felt your heart lurch. He was so handsome, his lips looked so plush and pink this close. There was no way he could’ve missed the way you had glanced down at them, how you were thinking of feeling them pressed to your skin in other places, of the way you pulled your own bottom one between your teeth at the thought.

He leaned in, sharing breath with you, his nose brushing against yours before-

The needle of the record player scratching across vinyl startled you both, jolting in response to the harsh noise breaking the bubble of tension surrounding you both. Your hands had flown up to grip his shoulders tight while his arms had wrapped around your back and pulled you to him. Heart thundering for a completely different reason now, you cast your eyes over his shoulder toward to the record player.

With nervous laughter you stepped away from the man and set about lifting it from the still spinning record. His eyes are on you as you replace the record with another, setting it up to play and then turning back around to him. Your heart still thumping in your chest as you watch him hold tight to the jar in his hand and dip his head to you in a departing bow.

He made sure it was well into the evening before enlisting Tommy’s help. The forlorn way you had looked at the pieces of the tree once it was no longer standing proud among the others had stirred an idea in his mind. He was going to take the thickest part of the trunk, because he wasn’t stealing it away. No. He was going to return it to you once he had cut it into slabs and let it dry. He was going to return it to you in the form of a cutting board, crafted from the beloved trees in your care and in honor of the namesake you’d adapted.

But it had to be perfect. He would practice on other planks and cuts of wood until he was able to craft one that would be good enough for you. Setting his mind and heart on the endeavor.

Once he was back home with the trunk set in room set up as his workspace, stepping out of the shower and collapsing into the bed, he let a lazy smile overtake him.

He may be tired, exhausted beyond his limits. But he wouldn’t have traded his afternoon with you for all the restful sleep in the world.

He couldn’t get the feeling of your lips against his skin out of his mind. The gentle pressure of them grazing over his injuries, the gentle pressure against the patch in his beard he had never been fond of until that moment.

“Fuck,” He groaned out, palm tight around his aching cock. He had woken up thinking of your lips on more of his body, trailing over his skin in sucking kisses, tongue laving at every inch. He had been leaking and hard, his hand around himself before he had even come to complete consciousness.

The very real image of you stood in your doorway clad in nothing but your robe, the way the swell of your breasts was visible with the way you must’ve thrown it on to answer his knocking. The way your eyes were cloudy, slowly clearing and your face slightly flushed, as if you had just been- he groaned deep from within his chest. It had looked like you had just been deep in the throes of pleasure, body overwhelmed with it and torn away by his calling on you. Hair mused and breath a little too quick, he wondered what you sounded like. Would you whimper softly or moan out loudly, would you be shy and cover your face with your arms or would you scramble for any purchase as it raced through your body, swelling up to consume you.

He pumped his hand slowly now, reveling in the feeling stirring low in his gut. The strikes of pleasure moving through him as he recalled the way you had felt against him as you both rode back on your horse.

The way your hip had felt in his hands as he had tried to steady himself. His mind taking the thought and running with it, the imagining the way he would grip you from behind. You down on your hands and knees, legs parted to make room for him to fit between them, thrust against you as deep as he could, your keening-

He choked on his own breath as the sheer force of his release hit him, sudden and overwhelming. Spurts of pearlescent cum coating his hand and dripping over his knuckles.

Euphoria filling him up with satisfaction, his body humming with it until the guilt slammed into him.

He just fucked his fist to the thought of you. His patrol partner. His…friend. The woman he couldn’t get out of his mind even if his life depended on it.

Catching his breath, he looked out the window across from his bed. Stars glittering at him through the curtains as if they know all the dirty things that had just run through his mind, sharing in his secrets.

The only small blessing of his complete lack of self-control and oversight is that he doesn’t have to ride alongside you today on patrol.

“I’ve got the first batch of the season,” You announced as you walked through the doors of the small makeshift market. It was right along the main street, a few fronts down from the mess hall and the Tipsy Bison.

“Oh, lovely!” The man at the back counter praised, clearing a space atop it for you to put down the delivery.

“Marsha.” You nodded toward her in greeting, uncomfortable with the way her eyes had followed you through the few aisles after letting the man go over the contents of the crate. Another nod to her daughter, standing right beside her with a small wicker basket full of root vegetables. “I’ve got a jar in there for you, with the garlic you managed to salvage from the garden.”

She didn’t say anything, looking for all the world like her voice had been stolen from her. A small nudge from her daughter jostled her and she seemed to find it.

“Thank you, Olive. That was…very sweet of you to think of me.”

“Of course, anything to be of help.”

“Yes, of course.” She repeated your words, trailing off as she noticed a figure across the street. Her eyes tracked their movement but when you turned to see what had caught her attention there was no one there. Suddenly she was speaking your actual name and it roused your nerves to life. “You…do so much for the town, I just wanted you to know that we all appreciate the time you take each year to handle the harvest.”

“O-oh, well, um, thank you, Marsha. That’s very k-kind of you to say.”

“Momma,” Millie whispered, taking ahold of the older woman’s arm. Something in her voice you couldn’t quite get a read on. Taking that as your queue to cut off the rather awkward interaction, you waved at them and began to head back up to the counter to collect the items you had requested in exchange for the crate of jars. Your ears were strained, trying to catch the hushed words the women shared behind your back. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I realized how…unfairly we speak about her. Someone convinced me to apologize to her.”

“She doesn’t deserve apologies, she’s the reason-“

“Millie, we need to work on moving past that. It’s been five years now. We can all live alongside each other with the understanding of what happened.”

“No, momma, you may be ready to forgive her but I’m not. She got my Aiden and I’m not going to let her drag down Joel too.”

“He was the one who told me to be nicer to her, just trying to appease the lovely man.”

Any good feelings of a successful harvest and two weeks of working countless hours to jar, pickle, and transform the fruit from your trees vanished. The awkward yet positive sentiment from one of your more…complicated social connections going down with it at Millie’s angered words. You tried to muster up a smile for the man at the counter, taking the crate back from him with the trade items but you weren’t sure if you were able to. Not turning to look at the women, you exited the shop and made your way straight back home despite the list of errands in your pocket.

Of course Joel had caught wind of the way people spoke of you.

Heard it from Marsha herself, the source of all your troubles despite having done everything in your power to counteract the bad you had brought down on the town with your incompetence. He had put his own reputation at stake by sticking up for you and you only hoped it didn’t affect the way he was received. He was so important to the town, achieving far more than you in what he provided and brought in his skill set.

You didn’t want him to feel even a fraction of what you did as you navigated life here in the settlement. The pitying looks cast your way, the whispered words of what people felt entitled enough to voice, the way you seemed to only be good for one thing and it was the crop in the backyard of the house you had been assigned by pure circumstance.

The crate thudded atop the table where you thrust it harshly, frustration controlling your movements as you moved through the small house back to your room. Shucking off and resisting the urge to hurl your boots toward the closet you sighed as you felt tears prickle your eyes. They rolled hot down your cheeks as you curled up in the covers and gave up on what was supposed to be a good day.

previous chapter || next chapter

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics and @cafekitsune

taglist: @merz-8 @morning-star-joy @joelsgreys @orcasoul @sawymredfox @sabmat @dreamingofleon @keylimebeag @pascalpvnk @picassopedro @tuquoquebrute @alejaa-a @jessthebaker @littlemisspascal @joeloverture @joelscruff @swiftispunk @tightjeansjavi @undercoverpena @idontknowyou-12345 @corazondebeskar @honeyedmiller @novas-dreamworld @slugz-writes-shit @fluff-lover @hiroikegawa @dugiioh @persephone-girl @furiousmushroom@communism-bitches @formulafun @copperhalfcent @lizlil @hiddenbabynyc

314 notes · View notes

punkeropercyjackson · 3 months

Text

Honestly why even bother making Jason afrolatino if you're not gonna write him as he is in canon when that's what actually'd make him work good rep for us.What i mean by this is

His ego is huge,he's super tough and an edgelord,has anger issues and brutal ass tactics and is a morally gray vigilante but he's ALSO a huge woman respecter to the point he thinks they're better than men,is extremely kind with a huge soft side and his exterior attitude and Red Hood are trauma responses that're framed as valid on his end so he's not the 'Scary Black Man' stereotype and with the exception of the vigilante part this is actually a pretty common personality type for irl black men-Important note that i don't fall under the attitude but i AM a black man(and woman)

He's been a huge nerd since he's debut in both meanings of it-He's a genius who was a star student in school and loves classical literature,theater and speaking articulately and poetically but just happens not to 24/7 since he's a comic book character,not a Shakespearen one

And his soft sunshine boy with hidden depths Robin self is a critical part of making him as black latino work-You can't go with the retcon of him as a mini thug because it's extremely dangerous stereotyping

Duke as his favorite brother-It's erasure with white gringo Jason but even worse and just stupid because both of them being black would it EVEN BETTER writing they're eachother's number one Batboy pick.Ain't no nigga picking Tim when the only other black guy in the factor is Right There and fuck ya aus,keep Jason white in them and leave afrolatino Jason out of your mess

He hasn't expressed a particular preference for girls he likes but HAS for the ones he dosen't and it's preppy perfect judgemental ones who try to 'tame' him so rip all y'all's white X Readers LMFAO.Worth noting that his canon girlfriends have been a half cambodian tomboy(Rose),an edgyptian butch(Artemis)and a darkskin black woman(Dana)and that he's actively rejected a white blonde girl on the basis of her being too normal(Isabel)and Kory post deblackification so i think it's obvious where his tastes lie

You CANNOT make him and Roy or Batcest a thing-I don't think i need to explain why pairing up a white man who knew an afrolatino since he was 14 and him grown with a daughter and putting him in incest is violently antiblack

Poverty is not inherently bad in black or latino characters and there was a point in canon where it was used as simply an element in Jason's story instead of demonization so use that edition.But making him a drunkard,a smoker or a sex fiend is 100% perpetuating stereotypes and he's canonically the opposite of all three so again,sometimes things that are canon are better

Him being tall and super jacked and intimidating looking can actually enchance it-He uses it to his advantage to get people he dosen't like to fuck off because they buy into the propaganda and gives him more deepness with the rest of his personality

This includes him being a real gamer and his neapolitan food addiction and your headcanons on his other tastes should follow their lead-His favorite characters should be black and latino ones(His favorite Marvel hero is Miles Morales,it's canon to ME),he should listen to black and latino artists,he should eat black and latino food and know how to make it for that matter,etc

Back to a Duke situation-You also can't make a white woman instead of Talia his adoptive mom for obvious reasons and imo if you're gonna make him and Stephanie besties,she should be black too for that black best friends and found siblings rep(She works as a black woman as much as he does a black man and i'll make a manifesto of that like i did him if asked).This applies to the Team Dad Jason take too in the sense that he should mentoring Damian and Nell and Tiffany since they're Batgirls instead of white kids

In summary what i'm trying to say is:If you're going to see Jason as an afrolatino man,you need to go beyond just the aesthetic and little bits you feel like including because you think they're appealing and actually write him as an afrolatino man,as Jason Todd and not some random guy

@nogender-onlystars @willieoo @mayameanderings @desi-pluto @insomniac-jay @vulnonapixes-dc-corner

109 notes · View notes

phoenixyfriend · 1 year

Text

[squints at the MCU] Tony Stark has displayed more ability to weather interrogation and torture than Steve Rogers.

This is "(displayed more)(ability)," not "(displayed)(more ability)," to be clear.

(I know fiction’s depiction of torture is famously propagandafied, but in this case, it’s not about torture for information so much as physical traumas shown on screen.)

(Anyway, have a rant I did on discord the other day.)

It's not really so much about "resisted the urge to hand over information" as "survived a truly harrowing experience and still came out of it trying to do good."

Tony's very first movie involves getting repeatedly drowned while in constant pain from bomb injuries as a civilian contractor, and I… don't think I can remember anything even a little similar with Steve

I don't think he's ever been captured for long before breaking out? All his injuries are in active battle, not torture.

Like... Steve went through something horrible with the ice and losing Bucky, nobody can argue that. But I think it's very telling, sometimes, that movie Steve, especially 2012 movie Steve, is completely unaware of the absolute nightmare that Tony experienced in his solo movies.

I have so many feelings about Tony Stark being the epitome of "guy who was raised and manipulated into being a bad person by someone he trusted, and (after a horrible experience) attempts to be a better person, constantly and consistently, even if he sometimes fucks up in the execution."

And the way that some fics elide his experiences in cleaning up other people's messes (first Obadiah's, then Howard's) and how that doubtlessly compounded his many neuroses from fixing messes that he did actually create himself is just

I have a lot of feelings

And am also feeling a little bitter and salty about how Tony Stark's MCU incarnation reportedly took some inspo from Elon Musk... and a little petty and satisfied about just how drastically we've all be shown that Musk can never live up to the idea of 'billionaire with inherited wealth who actually, without hesitation, risks his own life to save millions' that he tried to use PR to achieve in the media with 'my electric cars are gonna save the world' stunts about things he didn't actually have a hand in inventing

I'm just reading some fics I really enjoyed when I was still in the YA fandom, and there was a reference to a line Steve said in the movies and I started thinking (again) about how frequently fans take lines from Steve or Sam about Tony as gospel, because they haven't seen Tony's movies, and the lines from the star spangled boys are contextually meant to show that they don't know jackshit about Tony or his life, because they are directly contradicted by multiple prior films.

Also like... how often Steve's traumas get explored (in fic) in a way that Tony's just... don't? At most, his issues about Howard get explored, but that's it.

There's this moment in CACW that people take as Accurate and it infuriates me.

Tony Stark: [Back in the cell.] Just look. Because that is the fellow who was supposed to interrogate Barnes. [He shows a holographic image of Doctor Broussard.] Clearly, I made a mistake. Sam, I was wrong. Sam Wilson: That's a first.

Which, like... it's a bad movie. Obviously. But also

That line is immediately followed by Tony revealing that he's here to help the others and is sabotaging the security to make sure Ross can't take advantage, and yet fanfic still uses Sam's quote to promote anti-Tony agendas!

And 'Tony admits he fucked up' is. Like. Listen to me

Tony's first solo movie is fixing Obadiah's machinations. *

His second solo movie is fixing his Dad's fuckup.

His first team movie is fixing Thor's mistakes.

His third solo movie is fixing something that is only tangentially his fault.

It's not until AoU that the fuck-up is really his and his alone (well, not counting Bruce), and even then, even then, a massive portion of the blame is narratively laid at Wanda's feet!

And only then do we get this man, who has spent five movies seeing what happens when people don't take responsibility for their actions, or have anyone riding them to be ethical, who has criticized himself for neither having that oversight nor providing that oversight for people who snuck shit under his nose, that is when we get Tony weighing in on the side of "most countries on the planet are agreeing with this and it's for a reason, please work with me here, maybe we can get some of it rolled back to be less authoritarian and more reasonable."

* and removing himself from the military industrial complex he was raised and groomed to be in, but that's a system and not an individual act or a set 'villain'

Or as @firebirdeternal put it:

I would say that his first solo movie does have a large element of fixing his own mistakes too, it's just that his "mistake" was Trusting the Wrong Person and not taking personal responsibility for how his actions are affecting the world. (Which, he immediately does upon coming back from being captured? "We're going to immediately stop making weapons, because it's making the world worse" and then when Obadiah cuts him out of the company he goes "Oh. Okay no that didn't work, have to personally fix all this then.") and yeah it's just Tony have plenty of reasons to be on the side of "Someone needs to have oversight over this"

IM1 is such a good exploration of someone in privilege saying "this stops now" in a situation where they do have control because they have been confronted with their mistakes in a way that's unavoidable

It's also like, a great example of the fantasy of the Super Hero. Because Tony Stark, the businessman, even with all his wealth and knowledge, isn't able to stop the systemic harm being caused by His Own Company. One person isn't able to do that, even with the best of intentions. It isn't until he becomes something else, something more, a Super Hero, that he's able to make any kind of meaningful change on his own. Like IM1 is just a phenomenal movie. It understood it's subject material so incredibly well.

And people skip it and then take Steve and Sam at their word about Tony's strength of character and moral convictions and I scream.

THIS MAN FLEW A NUKE INTO A WORMHOLE WITH THE FULL EXPECTATION THAT HE WAS GOING TO DIE

Yeah, like, that Jump on the Grenade mentality is something that he and Steve actually literally share.

They both had 'jump on the explosive to save people' moments in their introductory movies.

I find so much more strength and inspiration in stories like Thor and Tony, where they are inherently fuck-ups and were shitty people and they are trying so damn hard to be better, which is more Tony than Thor really, but both of them and their first movies are just. I find that more inspiring than Steve or T'Challa or any other hero who was already a good person and just Became Great.

Tell me about the person who has to struggle to find that moral choice. Tell me about Natasha dragging herself from her oceans of blood and Tony fighting the government over whether they have the rights to use weapons he's created and about Thor having to reckon with his family's power being born of imperialistic ravaging of other cultures.

I want to hear about the people for whom being good is hard and a choice they don't have to make, but then they make it anyway.

Also I stand by "I am Iron Man. [infinity snap]" being the most amazing bookend the MCU could have done and probably the best part of the Endgame.

#Tony Stark #character analysis #phoenix talks #MCU #Iron Man Movies #Iron Man #Avengers #AoU #CACW #AEG #torture mention

624 notes · View notes

queenofallimagines · 2 months

Note

Can you do Blue Lock Sae x female reader x Rin? The brothers are fighting for her love.

A/N: I SURE THE FUCK CAN!! The itoshi effect is hating them both and then post backstory explanation coming to like them both a lot😔

TAGLIST: @priv-rose

Sae & Rin itoshi:

- okay so boom

- Had another OC though of being like a counselor at blue lock bc none of them boys is right in the head😭

- You have previous connections to Sae bc you were a counselor for another team he was on and his manager liked you so he would schedule private sessions

- Ended up in you leaving bc he’s so frustrating but alas fate has other plans

- You show up to the U-20 match bc DUH

- Anri doesn’t have any money to hire a manager also so you’re taking over that role

- Sorry😔

- Anyway rin comes to respect you for dragging him by his eyelashes about his trauma

- “So are we gunna start with hating yourself and thinking you’re not good enough to prove a point to your shitty brother OR are we working on your material conditions that stem from that today?”

- “…..off yourself”

- Like he can’t say shit back bc you got em!

- Comes in often enough now that he doesn’t schedule sessions he just shows up to spill the tea

- (Isagi and bachira are the same. the spies on the inside that tell you how the others are doing)

- He comes in and flops down in the chair

- “I’m not looking forward to seeing him. Why the fuck did they call HIM to help the team? His ass should have stayed in Spain!”

- “Oh I hear ya, I’m not looking forward to even making eye contact with his ass either. I’m counting on yall to win.”

- “The game-“

- “I want yall to crush him. I have my own personal beef with him.”

- “…….im not asking how.”

- You’re being restrained from jumping over the divider during the game to go swing on Sae

- Like did you see that?? THE AUDACITY

- DID NOBODY ELSE IN THE WHOLE STADIUM HEAR THAT SHIT??

- Yeah I would have swing on his ass right when the final whistle blew

- Better than me for him to get that mess out his mouth about isagi

- Would have stood up and clocked his ass

- When they’re all jumping all over each other celebrating you can feel the bad vibes coming from rin

- It’s suffocating

- You run to the locker rooms to catch him and bump into sae(accompanied by shidou)

- “……”

- Glaring at his ass

- Give him the dirtiest look ever

- And then turn to Ryusei smiling like you saw a puppy

- “Hey Ryu! Wonderful performance you put on today. You definitely stole the show.”

- Like lmao just ignore him pls

- After saving rin from going off the deep end; bc baby I’m so sorry that an ugly ass bitch would say something like that to you

- Their two week vacation starts

- Rin is surprised to see you in not work clothes chilling like a regular person

- Ends up hanging out with you a lot bc you’re the only one who he can speak freely to

- Unfortunately his brother is also back in the country

- Running into Sae while hanging out with his brother was NOT on your vacation bingo card but here we are

- “You’re here?”

- “I could really say the same to you. You haven’t gotten citizenship to stay your ass over there yet?”

- Flashback✨ y’all had a casual thing back in the day because when he’s not closed off he can be pretty fun to be around

- Then he let a white man get in his feelings and refused to talk about them and lashed out on you

- So he just kinda got these feelings and nothing to do with them

- Didn’t think he’d ever see you again to be honest so now stuff that he buried ages ago is in his face

- Can’t tell you sorry. Doesn’t know how.

- Sees you smiling and doting on rin how you used to him and can’t help but get jealous

- Makes sure to approach you when rin isn’t around

- You go to the kitchen to get water boom he’s there too now

- “Jesus Christ do you ever announce yourself?”

- “You’re in MY house”

- “Is it your house if you only show up one a year?”

- Can’t help but start arguments when he just wants to talk regularly

- Rin already picking up what his brother is trying to lay down and he’s not having it

- He’s already developed a crush on you like you CANT leave

- Gets nervous bc if your past with sae that he might snatch you up too

- Not letting his brother take something else away from him

- So all of a sudden he’s a lot more touchy with you

- Trust me inside he’s screaming and throwing up bc he’s never done this before but he will try

- You can feel his stiff ass hand around your waist😭

- Poor baby

- The silent itoshi beef isn’t missed by you but you don’t know that they’re competing off the pitch too

- “You sure you don’t want to go do something? Like we watched horror movies in your room all day yesterday, I had errands to run-“

- “Well I wanted to start the final destination franchise so you gotta watch all 5 of them there’s a new one coming out”

- “Yeah in 2025! That’s like 3 years away!”

- “Shhhh, the movie starting🙄”

- Hoards you all to himself in his room because you’re surrounded by HIM and less chances for Sae to sneak up on you in public and steal you away or join your date outing together

- Thinks you look cute wrapped in his blankets and tries not to blush when you cling to him

- “I swear to god-“

- “My bad forgot there’s a jumpscare here I’ll warn you about the next one promise.”

- He won’t

- Sae rolling his eyes to the back of his head bc you just always in the house now and Rin hanging off you like a sad puppy

- Sae is more strategic where rin is impulsive

- So he’s the type to do shit from the past that he knew would make your heart flutter and run will be blunt and impulsive with his actions

- Sae will touch your lower back as he comes up behind you to grab a class from the cub board and hand it to you

- Sae will bring you home your favorite snack when he knows rin wont see him give it to you

- Rin will grab your hand in public and not let go to make sure you don’t get lost on a crowd

- Rin will clumsily press his lips to your forehead when you are most distracted

- Both are very annoying

- And after a good WEEK of getting mixed signals from both of them you’re ready to stay your ass at home for the rest of the vacation before it’s back to work

- Monday morning Rin invites you on a morning run

- Which you obviously say fuck NO to bc the sun ain’t even up

- But he shows up to your front door at the asscrack of dawn telling you to get dressed you have no say in the matter unfortunately

- The jog isn’t so bad and he has the decency to buy you breakfast afterwards so that’s nice

- Decent conversation surprisingly

- When he drops you off back at your home he kisses you before literally sprinting off

- He was working up the nerve to do that all morning

- Can’t even say thanks or whatever yet before he presses his body close to you and lifts your head to slot his lips against yours

- Puts all his feelings into that kiss before managing to get out “bye” before his throat completely closes up

- And then sprints off before you can even blink

- Clown

- Giggling and kicking his feet when he gets home

- Sae is packing for his trip back to Spain at the end of the week

- When he catches you leaving his house after another Rin spontaneous all day movie marathon

- Offers to drive you home because it’s dark and he remembers the address

- Didn’t really offer so much as grab his Keys complaining about how you know better than to be outside this late

- Sir 🫤🫤

- The ride is kinda tense until he forces a conversation

- Unsurprisingly e vividly remembers all the right buttons to press to see that smile he’s been dying to see

- Don’t even notice he took the long way back to your home

- Puts his new number in your phone and tells you to stop being stubborn and answer when he texts you

- He’s a gentleman before all else so he walks you right to your front door

- Man barely hears a word you said before pulling you closer by your neck pressing his lips to yours

- Remembers you like the back of his hand the way his lips fit so familiar with yours

- Ends up with your arms around his neck and your back pressed into the front door

- Clearly wanting to come inside he pulls away because he’s fond of the chase🙄😒

- Wishes you a good night before kissing your forehead and going back to his car

- both of them have laid their cards out on the table

- Just up to you to make a choice I’m afraid

#my writing #x black reader #blue lock headcanons #blue lock #bllk scenarios #bllk #rin itoshi #sae itoshi #rin x reader #bllk rin #rin itoshi x reader #sae itoshi x reader #bllk x reader #I had a whole different direction for this originally #but I was like actually you can’t have both this time #a choice must be made #anon asks #anon answered

61 notes · View notes

writing-till-i-am-dead · 2 months

Text

Laigan oneshot

(I’m just having fun with these ship names now)

Ashlyn stepped to the front and clapped her hands. “Ok, so.. my parents have been saying that in order for us to survive, we need to work as a.. team.”

Taylor tilted her head. “Don’t we already?”

“Apparently bonds formed only from trauma aren’t strong enough.”

This seemed to blow everyone’s minds as they all said, “They aren’t?”

Ashlyn shook her head. “No.. so, I’ve decided we are going to split into teams of two by having three people draw one name from a hat.”

Ashlyn turned and picked up a baseball cap filled with torn papers.

“So, who will be drawing names?”

Taylor, Aiden, and Ben all rose their hands.

Aiden jumped from the bus seat bounded forward excitedly as he drew out a name.

“Let’s see.. LOGAN!”

Logan damn near fell out of his seat as he exclaimed, “HUH?!”

Aiden plopped himself right next to Logan and Logan tried to make himself as small as possible in his seat.

Why did it have to be Aiden?

Logan would’ve taken Ashlyn, or Ben, or Taylor, or even Tyler’s aggressive attitude!

He slowly turned to face him and give him a friendly smile.

Aiden smiled back and Logan felt his blood run cold and he quickly turned away again.

Why is he so creepy?! he thought anxiously.

“So, uh, Ashlyn!” Logan blurted out. “What sort of team building exercises are we going to do?”

“Well.. my dad said that in his time in the military, the best way to form bonds is helping each other in life or death situations, and having heart to heart conversations. And, well, we already have the first one down.”

Everyone looked a little confused. “How are we supposed to have those just.. casually?” Tyler asked as he sat next to Ben.

“I don’t know!” Ashlyn exclaimed. “That’s just what he said!”

Everyone looked awkwardly at their partner. Well, except Aiden. Logan was pretty sure it was impossible for Aiden to feel awkward.

“So, um.. Aiden.. you like.. dangerous stuff?” Logan asked, trying his hardest to keep himself from freaking out.

“Ya! Haha, one time I jumped off a ski lift. The way my ankle snapped was so weird, but also funny, haha!”

“Oh, um.. ya.. haha..” Is he purposefully trying to freak me out?! What the hell?! Someone help me!!! “Um.. well.. one time I was on a hike with my family with our dog and he ate some oleanders.. that was pretty messed.. haha..”

“Oleanders?” Aiden asked, suddenly seeming genuinely interested.

“Oh.. um.. they’re these really toxic flowers. They can cause irregular heartbeats. And seizures. My dog had a really, really bad seizure after eating it. He just kind of.. flopped around before he dropped dead.. haha..”

Aiden’s eyes widened and he cleared his throat after a moment. “Descriptive..”

“Huh? Oh! Uh, I’m sorry! I, um.. I didn’t really think about it!”

“Ha, it’s fine, man, don’t worry about it!” Aiden said, wrapping his arm around Logan’s shoulder. “You got any more stories to tell?”

“Oh.. uh.. oh! So, my aunt works at a hospital and one time she was babysitting me and I had to go to her work. And this patient had burst into the hospital, vomiting everywhere and passing out. He had eaten a death cap!”

“A death cap?! That sounds so cool, what is that!”

Logan wasn’t even aware of the proximity of them, or the fact that he was talking to Aiden. He was just excited to talk about things that interest him.

“They’re these very poisonous mushrooms. They cause nausea, low blood pressure, and vomiting. The mortality rate for eating them is at 30%!”

Aiden seemed a little let down by that number. “30%? Really? What’s the most poisonous mushroom, then?”

“Oh, um.. the death caps are..”

He raised an eyebrow. “Really? That’s it? Man, that’s just so low..”

“You.. want more people to die??”

“Well, no. But it just makes it more interesting, doesn’t it? Kind of like the same morbid interest of watching true crime..”

“I guess I understand?”

There was a moment of silence between them.

“Do you know all these plant facts because your grandparents are florists?” Aiden asks.

“Oh, ya..”

Aiden smirks. “Kind of like how they got us access to drugs?”

Logan’s shoulders jerk up and he quickly gets defensive. “H-hold on, it’s not what you think! They were just able to get the drugs because they have poppy flowers which are used to make opioids! N-NOT THAT THEY MAKE OPIOIDS OFTEN, OR EVER!”

Aiden burst out laughing, clutching his stomach as he fell out of his seat. “Oh! Oh my gosh! Your face! Haha!!”

Logan’s face went red and everyone turned to look at them, curious.

“Ummm, A-Aiden.. it wasn’t that funny.. haaaa..” He grabbed Aiden’s arm and pulled him back into the seat. “Quit being so loud!” he said quickly, his face bright red.

“You quit being so embarrassed all the time!” Aiden countered.

“I-! Ughh.. Aiden..” he whimpered, covering his face.

“Pfff.. cmon, Logan. Keep rattling on random facts about deadly plants!”

He still seemed hesitant before saying, “Have you heard about the Sandbox tree?”

“Oh? No, I haven’t!”

Logan smiled, knowing this would be right up Aiden’s alley. “Their seeds.. explode!”

Aiden gasped. “No way!”

“Ya!”

“How dangerous is it?”

“Pretty dangerous. It can severely hurt humans. Not to mention that it’s poisonous all over.”

Aiden burst out laughing and pat Logan’s back. “You know what I like!”

Logan laughed along with him as he rattled off more plant facts. Eventually plant facts moved facts about how deadly space is.

“They actually have no idea how black holes function?! Movies lied to me!”

Logan snickered and nodded. “Same here!”

“What do you think happens? When you enter a black hole?”

“Hmm..” Logan thought for a moment before saying.

“You’re lost in a void. There’s no up, there’s no down. There’s no escape. Only fear and loneliness and existentialism as you stay there forever. Your cells won’t age or change.. so for eternity, you’re stuck there, never able to achieve freedom…”

He looked up at Aiden, who seemed very, very surprised.

“O-OR, UM… maybe you just come out on the other side! I-I dunno, haha!”

Aiden chuckled and shook his head. “You have some pretty dark thoughts. Just different from my kind of dark. I like it, though.”

“Y..You do?”

“Ya! You should say more stuff like that. It’s really interesting!”

“I…”

“All right everyone!” Ashlyn exclaimed. “It’s getting late. Cmon, we don’t wanna fall asleep on the bus.”

Aiden stood up and held out a hand to Logan. “Cmon.”

Logan was surprised by Aiden’s genuine friendliness before smiling back at him and letting him help him up.

“I think today was really a smart idea, Ashlyn,” Aiden said to her.

Ashlyn nodded. “Glad to hear it. My dad will be proud of us, I think.”

Logan smiled at that. Proud of him…

#Sbg #school bus graveyard #Logan fields #logan sbg #aiden clark #aiden sbg #webtoon #oneshot #fanfic

37 notes · View notes

kittycat-in-the-dark · 4 months

Text

Can I be a little bitch for a second and complain about something...

(Also because I haven't written a post in a while, lol)

People that hate Damian Wayne's character are weird.

Like, let me make something clear first: people are obviously allowed to dislike Damian as a character for wtv reason (although, it is better when the reasons that people dislike him for come from actual canon and not fanon, and it's not because of, ya know, stuff like racism...).

However, it's really hilarious (in a dumb way, sorry not sorry) when I see fans of Jason and Tim specifically (which is funny, considering I'm one as well) shit on Damian as if he is like a little monster that did the most horrible shit imaginable just because in the stories he first appeared in, in main canon, he did some questionable actions, such as cutting Tim's line. But most of the time these same people almost never talk about what were Damian's reasons to do this and some even say stuff like "Jason was justified in shooting Damian that one time./It was satisfying to see the brat being shot by Jason." or something else like that.

And I sit here like: excuse me but WHAT THE FUCK??

Look, I get the argument "these are fictional characters written by adults, so it doesn't matter that Damian is a kid, he still did messed up things" to a certain degree. However, it still doesn't change that they are still writting a child. And just because some of you people don't like Damian because he is a brat, that doesn't mean you can completely ignore (or outright make up/change) the context surrounding Damian's character, while at the same time giving characters like Jason Todd, that at the time Damian was introduced in Post-Crisis did way way more messed up shit, justifications such as "it's bad writing", "it's classist", "Jason has trauma".

WHEN THE SAME/SIMILAR FREAKING REASONS APPLY TO DAMIAN'S CHARACTER AND WRITING AS WELL!!! Aka, "bad writing" (that can be everywhere for any character, not just for Jason, duh), "racist writing" (unfortunately), "Damian has trauma" (yes, yes he was. And he came with some fucked up baggage of it when he first met his father, just like Jason did, why do some people ignore this just because of Damian's heritage or something).

ALSO: some people sure love to forget that there is a big ass difference between "Damian is a 9-year-old that grew up in an assasssins cult, and thus he isn't familiar/adjusted with his dad's world and rules" and "Jason is a grown ass man that keeps hurting other people because of his trauma, including people that have nothing to do with his trauma to begin with" (*cough* Mia Dearden *cough*, *cough* The Titans *cough*; also, opposite to Damian, he didn't grow up being taught to kill people, lmao). So, like, idk dude, they all have messed-up trauma and you don't see all of them going on killing sprees and torturing innnocent people because of it...

Like, I love Jason, I love Tim. But I don't hate Damian, Dick and/or Bruce, just because in certain situations they wronged my faves. Also, it's good to recognize that the faves messed up too. That they hurt other people. I mean, why the fuck do some of you people justify Jason (especially him) and Tim's wrong actions to the moon and back, but don't extend the same courtesy to other characters in similar situations... like, it doesn't seem fair or make that much sense to me...

Like,, really, I'm sorry but people saying in the same breath that "Jason deserves to be understood on his violence because of his trauma" and "Damian is evil because he tried to hurt people" (also because of trauma, btw) are kinda hypocritical, sorry (not sorry actually).

(Also, why tf do some people make "who is the most traumatized Batboy" type competitions that usually downplay the trauma of the Batboys/Batfamily members they don't care about or like?? The point of the Batfamily is that they all are messed up people that came together by chance and because they share similar trauma and desire to help others, while at the same time being a dysfuncional mess of a family. Like, that's the fun part. And ya, that also means they have to have moments where they get along and recognise when they fucked up. And all of them had situations where they fucked up and hurt others. There is no "100% innocent/justified" member in the Batfam. All of them fucked up big time at some point, okay?? And that is part of what makes them interesting characters. Like, sorry for ranting so much but I don't understand people that act as if their favourite characters can never do any wrong or did any wrong when they actually did...)

#damian wayne #batfam #dc #fandom critical #jay talks here #like seriously i understand that for some people Damian can be unlikable but some people talk about him like he is the devil incarnate #when he is just a kid born into an ASSASSINS CULT - like did some people forget that or what?#and a kid trying his best at being a good person & at following his dad's code in order to belong to a family

36 notes · View notes

jazeswhbhaven · 5 months

Text

Beel, Are You Srs Brah? WHB Event React Part 4 *Spoiler Warning*

Now you know the drill, gotta check out the previous posts if this is the very first part you're seeing <3 ->

Also to note, if you click on Part 3 here, it also has a way to get back to Part 2, and from there to Part 1! These will be added to master list too.

Here's to this being the final part hopefully~ Don't forget to get more snacks if you need ♨(⋆‿⋆)♨ TW://child death,violence

We're starting off with straight up angst everyone.

So we meet our buff-ass angel from the previous part (yes the one who disguised himself as a tiny devil woman) and he's here without the scar roughin' up Dre's twin brother D:

So in short, the buff angel beats the twin brother so badly he's barely alive, and Raph finishes him off. They described this very grisly, stating that he was cut in 6 pieces. Dre sat there helplessly and watched his brother die in such a way, especially for a child to see his brother die like that. PB really brought in the traumatic events this time around. It makes me wonder if anyone else has a dark past revolving around angel trauma (I know Levi does but I haven't gotten to that part of his bath story just yet)

Dre was full of rage when he charged toward Raph, he didn't care that he was swatted by the buff angel, and was offered the same way as his brother as he waited for death. Raph for whatever reason decides to cut his eyes as injury to insult, and then even worse the sword of light that slashed Dre's neck didn't make a clean cut so I'm sure that shit hurt and he was just going to leave him there to bleed out. An interesting development though is that Dre's brother who's dead...his amputated arm grasped his hand?? This is so crazy to me because that's a powerful brotherly bond right there. Even in death.

So we're back from the flashback and Dre is happy that he ran into this angel, the same buff angel that offered up his brother to Raph like nothing, and he will make sure that his revenge is dished out the same way that he witnessed toward his brother. Raph is big trouble when Dre gets a hold of him. But he says that by going blind, he was given the ability to see clearly, and to sense his enemy, and this is a grim silver lining to his trauma is how I read it.

This is not simply a physical disability to him, but something to aid in avenging his brother and his family. He accepts this as his new life, and he's glad it's all coming together.

So our buff angel is not so big and bad now. He's literally crying and begging Dre for forgiveness and even offering a way to expose Raph's weaknesses and refers to him as a monster. I mean the man is just out here willing to throw his angel brethren under the bus just so he's spared.

And now here's where I chime in from when I mentioned I had something to say earlier?

Now I know this is a serious part of the story. But this is a huge sidebar that I thought of well after the event.

This buff fucking giant of an angel, is groveling, crying, a pathetic mess despite being way larger and taller in size and you can tell by his sprite that he is, no doubt.

And if you think back to the form, he chose a tiny smol non-threatening devil, sure there's not much to think about here he needed a sure way to disguise himself. But his behavior here, his choice of disguise....

I wanna bully this angel so badly just because it's up my alley for big buff characters to be submissive, soft, and somewhat of a bbygirl or just pathetic little things. Because it's unexpected.

Like I thought he was gonna give Dre a run for his money ya know? Put up a fight? Nope. Just sniveling and crying and obviously lying about how he thinks the devils are great and how he hates Raph (maybe he does hate Raph tho but regardless)

Now, since he took part in Dre's trauma, I'm aware it's questionable to want to slut him out, but it's like yeah Dre let me 'play' with this one for a bit before you slice and dice him. Call me disgusting or whatever but hey.

Well, after the entire scene with buff pathetic angel and Dre (no surprise he started torturing him and ripping off the remaining wing slowly and genuinely smiling as if he were in peace)

We are back with our Avisos bois <3 they had made it to the Cosplay Cafe with Stolas' help! You know with all the lights in Avisos they've been complaining about how dark it is, so I wonder if it's that kind of light where it's only helpful if you're near it or something? Or maybe it's just that bad of a night life where you gotta be careful.

So the topic starts of Stolas asking what a Cosplay Cafe is and while Nabe is trying to explain, Amon is like "Hey are the cosplayers on the menu?" Like, I don't know what it is about Amon but it's like he's horny but lazily horny? lol like I don't know how to explain it. But he also brings up that he prefers Maid Cafe's. So it's very much implied that he likes this sort of stuff, (wink Amon simps dress up as a maid and serve him well)

Nabe once again questioned Amon's intelligence since he was sort of spacing out at the moment but was really on task with Miss Dealer.

I just assume Amon is one of those ppl whose focus is always there, but unless it pertains to something revolving around Beel it's the least of his worries so low minimal effort.

Yay an Unholyc reference!!! (if you've played before this devil is cosplaying one of the three love interests named Jung Hi, it's been a minute since I played so I don't remember much about him per se but it's cute to see cameos in the game. We'll probably get more)

So our bois are in the cafe, seated and waiting to get on with gathering more clues.

And clearly Stolas is not getting the program xD Like bby why are you threatening the staff he's just doing his job?? And damn we can't tell each others name in Avisos or we get killed? Rough stuff....

So Nabe inquires if something has happened because everyone seems excited and the devil next to them mentions seeing Dre or what they think someone who looks like Dre come in and cosplay as the famous 'Angel Hunter' he was scared so he pissed himself apparently and shows everyone (lmao okay dude)

So Stolas starts cussing him out and stuff but that ofc doesn't work and he seems more excited about that...

But the topic goes on about Dre, and the rumors that are out about him such as he was cut into 6 pieces, he walked around with his head cut for three days before sewing it back on...

Stolas even brings up that hanging around someone like that is gloomy and depressing. (I mean he's super anti-social lol so he's the one to talk)

And here our bby Amon sympathizes with Dre, relating to how painful it is to fight the angels and it made me feel a pain in my chest. More angst now.

But Amon relates to him, saying that someone with that amount of rumors about him must be skilled at what he does and he understands why he hates angels so much. That someone like that will carry such sadness with him as long as there are battles with angels.

Stolas calls Dre bizzare though for wanting to taunt the angels by decorating himself with left over body parts of angels. Even more weirder that this actually works on angels in the first place.

So after speaking about Dre, the Jung Hi cosplayer comes back again and asks them if they're going to order anything and well...

our bois are broke broke

like b r o k e

there's a little spiel here that compares the devils of Tartaros to the ones in Avisos and whelp, in short they can spend it on whatever whenever, without having to worry. The devils of Avisos were frugal, painfully so to a fault. But there was also no way you could get info for free here. You always gotta buy something first.

So what I find funny is that Nabe basically asked Amon if he'd be willing to pawn off his Beel toy and he straight up was like "Nah." in the most coherent state he's been the entire time.

Everything else is half-assed, but when it comes to his Beel merch. Never. Not in his goddamned life.

That's when the Jung Hi cosplayer noticed Amon's little keychain and was like "Oh if you wanted to meet Beelzebub you should have let us know~" and then-

I'm squinting hard like now I know that ain't Beel...has to be a clone maybe, a cosplayer that's really good at their job perhaps...can't fucking be this easy that they found him at the last place.

So while all of us even the bois are still trying to see if this is the real deal Beel, he's getting them to order stuff from the menus and sitting them back down.

So while he's getting their order together, Stolas and Nabe are dumbfounded and not even sure if they can tell if who they're looking at is a cosplayer or not because of how accurate the personality is.

Btw, they mention that he speaks like he's drowsy. This means....he has that groggy sleepy raspy voice („ಡωಡ„) *drool*

Meanwhile, Amon out here crying and reminiscing his past and Beel is just like :D not even acknowledging it. (bless..Amon is so emotional like he is literally meeting the person he admires)

So we're set back before Armageddon happened, back when Angels just used to come down and fuck with the devils when they felt like it. Amon is seen here just coming of age, and his parents have died from a recent attack. Due to living in Avisos, even if he had neighbors, no one would help and he felt useless in this moment. (PB bringing the angst once again)

Beel came to him to warn him about not crying so loudly or he'd be a target (an angel was about to kill Amon too until Beel sliced it's head off) and when Beel is described here by Amon, it's almost like you can hear that angelic music or that nice music that's usually in Latin or something (I don't remember the technical term ;.;)

So Beel introduces himself because at this time Amon has no clue who he is. That's when Beel also reveals that Amon is one of the 72 devils meant to serve him!

So Amon is further confused about his new role he's never heard about and that's when some lore about the 72 is dropped on us. Only God and the 7 kings are aware by feeling who the 72 are. No one really knows who and why someone gets picked it just happens.

And that sometimes, the devil can alert their respective king during birth, other times the king may have to seek them out on their own, and in Amon's case...he needed a "trigger" so a traumatic event to make his status known to Beel.

And then there's a cute moment where Beel gives Amon a cookie and pats his head while he's eating it. And Amon is wondering why such a powerful devil, a king is being so nice and kind to him all the same breath. (because Beel is a sweetie)

Awh, so at first we have Beel being wholesome and telling Amon it's alright to cry and be himself in this moment. But then...he randomly fucking does this

naoifsdnkafjnaousdf nasdkjfn safm

----kamflkm

--0

Beel.

Please. We are trying to be serious here. You just found one of your nobles and you're licking tears (which seems like a Lucifer thing so that's odd) and saying you can make them taste better???? BO I

Alright, so we're left with t h i s and the next stopping point. And it's crazy because.... This officially means this is one of the longest reacts I've done T^T a part five next??? Lol Oh goodness.

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb event #whb avisos bois 💚#whb andrealphus #whb beelzebub #honestly I can't believe this is part four #okay the next one is definitely the last part i swear

44 notes · View notes

eerna · 4 months

Note

I really like your response to the anon asking about what are the strengths of TFOTA. I think you nailed it regarding how Holly Black hit it out of the park, and I’m curious if you can expand on what you think some of the series missteps were. (TFOTA is an all-time fave for me, but nothing is perfect!)

For me, I think the way she structures her books into different parts does make them drag a little (especially some parts of the middle of The Wicked King). Like sometimes it feels like characters are spinning their wheels a bit while she’s setting everything up for the plot, but I ultimately don’t mind this because her plots are so well executed.

As always, love your breakdowns and critiques so just curious to hear more!

Ayyy thanks, glad you agree! :D

OO yes I heard that as an often critique of her stuff! I do think you're right and the slowness is present, but to me it's not an issue since the characters are fun enough for me never to be bored. I'm the kind of reader who can enjoy the slowest thing imaginable as long as the characters interest me.

Structured like the strengths post, my main issues. 1) The YA writing style of overexplanation. These books are sometimes great at leaving things unsaid, but other times they beat you over the head with the same thing over and over again or go into explanations for stuff you'd think is understood. Example: Jude constantly repeating it is messed up she lives with the guy who killed her parents in book 1. Like. Okay. We know. Trust us we didn't forget it's wrong to kill people and steal their kids. Of course, her constantly thinking about her trauma is part of her character, but it can be expressed in different ways - examples of how this was done well were "I love Madoc, I could love anyone" or "I get scared and I remember the smell of my mother's insides". 2) The repeating stuff from my list of pros... where it doesn't belong. Sometimes characters do or say stuff because HB wants them to do or say them bc she likes to write about it, but it makes NO sense. This was my main issue with TSH - for example, there is absolutely no reason for Oak and Suren's relationship to draw parallels with Jude and Cardan's to the point of repeating phrases, because they are so different that it jerks me right out of the story being told. 3) The editor is asleep on the job. There are quite a few basic editing errors - the amount of times characters smile or grin per page, and the continuity errors. This is the most frustrating aspect because it is so easy to solve!!!!! Just read it once more and click delete!!!! 4) Sometimes HB's "let's go back and elaborate on something from the past to give it a new dimension" works great, and sometimes it makes no sense. Examples: the Ghost betraying Jude because he was forced to, Locke being an Undersea collaborator and a gancanagh. 5) Taryn. She gets her own point because I love her and it's so unsatisfying how she ended up. She spends 2 books girlbossing and being such a sympathetic traitor, then gets pregnant and decides to stop being the worst offscreen and never does another plot relevant thing again. I don't know if HB got tired of her or if she realized everyone hated her and decided to sideline her so people would stop yelling, but MAN is it such a standout bad conclusion among a sea of good ones. 6) JUSTICE FOR OAK GREENBRIAR MY SHORT KING he was always described as tiny and underdeveloped for his age RIGHT up until he became a love interest, when he SUDDENLY started towering over everyone while still overflowing with short king energy. This is a joke to end the list on a happy note but also I would pay for a version of TSH where my monster girl has to lean down to kiss her bf

#eggtina #eernask #eernask talk tfota

9 notes · View notes

isa-ghost · 1 month

Note

hi! I'm a crow that loves talking in depth about q!Phil, good traits, bad traits and everything in between. :D With your last qsmp post, you said Phil isn't "emotionally dense," and I was kinda wondering if you could give me more of your perspective on that? I've always thought that, due to him having been isolated from hardcore for a long time, not reading/understanding emotions all that well is a big weakness of his (I think some ways people word this criticism CAN be borderline if not straight up ableist, so uh, use careful wording, people!). Couple that with him often refusing to address his own emotions/trauma, that can sometimes extend to how he might not be able to read other people's emotions well, either. I figured that him lacking emotional intelligence was a fair critique of his character, but given your post, I'd love to see your thoughts on that piece of criticism. if that's okay, of course!

You're in my notes a lot, you're familiar to me fellow crow. >:3c

I dug around for 900 years to find this post but this explains what I was talking about a bit more.

And yeah the Hardcore isolation is definitely a factor in things, I love that interpretation :D

Basically what I meant is Phil has emotional intelligence, unlike what some shitty takes have said. Phil is extremely observant, of course he can clock emotions and whatnot. He just. Doesn't entirely know what to Do in those situations. He's said he's not great at emotional talk. But he very much has Awareness of it. A lot of it boils down to the fandom being garbage at character analysis, media literacy, and the fact that a lot of bad faith Phil takes that are untrue come from people who don't like him and don't care to understand his character and its complexities.

Also he has chronic It's Fine I Can Handle It Myself I Can't Be A Burden On Anyone At All Ever disease so he doesn't open up about his own issues and emotions bc he thinks he needs to shoulder it all himself. And pair that with his insistence on helping others before himself constantly and yeah. There ya go. Bird Man is a mess. /aff

Specifically when it comes to Chayanne and his parenting, that post I linked is a way better elaboration basically.

6 notes · View notes

bleep-blop-lizard-hop · 10 months

Text

Warrior Thought

Warrior Season 3 Finale

(Sorry person who sent me an anon message, I accidentally deleted it 😭 but here ya go)

AH TOY AND NELLIE KILLING DICKLAND TOGETHER!!! THE WIVES ARE SO BACK!!!

They had to fit in A LOT this episode, but I’m glad Ah Toy and Nellie had two very solid scenes. I fantasized so much about them getting revenge together, and it actually happened! Sorry Leary but the wives deserve this more! Dickland talking shit and playing stupid mind games with them. His arrogance was his downfall. No asshole YOU should be afraid because Ah Toy is not playing around! She didn’t get a single scratch while slicing and dicing him like a pig! It was so bloody and brutal and violent, I love it! Nellie being backup with her shotgun like “you’re doing great sweetie!”

Then Bill and Leary had to show up at the wrong time! Though I don’t think Bill can recognize her from that distance. Then Nellie began shooting at them and they ran away. So hopefully they’ll be off the hook next season. Burning Dickland’s body in the incinerator was pure poetic Justice!

Back at the brothel, the adrenaline of revenge is replaced by crushing despair. Dickland’s death didn’t bring back Lai and their girls. He’s not the only greedy and evil man out there. Ah Toy’s been in survival mode for so long, she’s TIRED of all this shit! She never let herself show emotion like this, not even with Ah Sahm. Seeing her completely break down with Nellie is a huge deal for their relationship! After everything that happened, they still love each other and became even stronger. Nellie holding Ah Toy close and saying “I’m not going anywhere” 😭🥺💕 So similar to how they ended last season. I predict that Ah Toy will leave the brothel, and they’ll rebuild somewhere next season.

Mai Ling confronting Eliza was so good! After the trauma she endured, Mai Ling can’t help relating to Eliza. What Eliza did was wrong, but her shitty husband is the real problem. Mai Ling giving Eliza a knife…I hope she use it well.

So here for Catherine Archer scamming Buckley for all his money! Rob his slimy racist ass, lady!

The Tongs, Isaac’s crew, and police fighting over the money plates. The ice factory is a homage to Bruce Lee, according to the Internet. Nice. The finale definitely isn’t short on action, I counted 4 in this episode! Isaac almost took the plates but Ah Sahm handled him, and gave them to Lee. That means Yan Mi can be free.

Tbh I’m quite concerned with how they portrayed the black characters this season. Abigail is good, but most of them were antagonistic. I’m aware of how Asians are deemed “the model minority” and often pitted against African Americans. I just wish the show could’ve subverted that somehow.

Back to Yan Mi, she’s released from jail and runs home to her father. It’s a very poignant scene that can resonate with children of immigrant parents. She respects him, but felt stifled by his expectations. Still, she did mess up by getting involved with a gang. I would’ve preferred Ah Sahm to not have romance this season, but it served it a purpose. I like Yan Mi as a character. Too bad she gets so much flack for getting between YJ and Ah Sahm.

After getting disowned, she goes to the train station. Ah Sahm never made it, but Chao does. He convince her to go without him anyway, and she does but it’s hard. She got the money from Chao, but she’s also alone as a Chinese woman. We’ve seen other characters try to get out and it didn’t go well. Still, glad they didn’t kill her and hopefully she’ll be ok. Just a small town girl…living in a lonely world…she took the midnight train going anywhere…

After Kon Pak, Lai, and Father Jun…I draw the line at Chao getting stabbed multiple times! ZING is back and he wants revenge against everyone! Bill and Lee looked so happy, laughing on the porch 😬 They better not kill Chao if they get season 4! So many Asian characters died this season, they better replenish! Hello, Michelle Yeoh??? 🙏🏻 Don’t let the white characters outnumber them!

Finally… the dreaded moment where Ah Sahm has to choose between his sister and the Hop Wei. I figured he would choose Mai Ling. His relationship with Young Jun has been going downhill this season. It’s hard to watch because I understand both of their perspectives. Ah Sahm vs YJ and Hong was equally epic and heartbreaking. None of them took pleasure in that fight, but it was necessary. Ah Sahm knocked both of them out before going to find Mai Ling.

Meanwhile, Mai Ling is defending herself against the Hop Wei. She makes some progress with her gun, but gets overpowered by them. It looked like she might die by drowning, but I didn’t buy it. Ah Sahm and Mai Ling are reunited as they desperately cling to each other. No more Hop Wei and Long Zhii. Li Yong became the leader of his own tong, good for him! Exploring these new dynamics in season 4 will be very interesting. I’ve always understood Mai Ling while not agreeing with all her manipulative schemes. Hitting rock bottom could lead to some sort of redemption for her. Looking forward to it!

Big political changes will definitely endanger Chinatown next season. The Chinese Exclusion Act was passed in 1882, but it might be sooner in the show. Not good when everyone is still divided and fighting each other. Perhaps Ah Sahm, the embodiment of Bruce Lee, will unite them all in the end.

Season 3 had its flaws, but overall it was amazing! I really hope it doesn’t end here, the story and characters have so much potential! Fucking Hollywood studios refusing to pay people fairly 😡😡😡 I saw on Twitter some of the Warrior cast joining the protest too, it’s great! Season 4 of Warrior or we riot!!!

10 notes · View notes

penvisions · 2 months

Text

wish i never met you {a garnish one shot}

Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Professor! Reader (formally known as Bartender! Reader)

Summary: Fear of rejection and messing up so beyond comprehension makes you regret crossing the professional line and getting to know Joel as you do now.

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: canon typical language, joel thinks he's the one in charge but we all know it's really reader, religious contemplation, mentions of past trauma, mentions of bad family dynamics, smoking, consumption of alcohol, menstruation, talk of menstruation, blood, cramps, muscle soreness, unorthodox pregnancy announcement, reader is a hot mess, allusions to adult content, allusions to smut, mentions of past p in v, might need to add more if i missed anything!

A/N: wrote this as part of a fun, silly fic title prompt game submission from a sweet anon. it totally inspired an angsty din piece at first that i have in my drafts but then these two slammed into my brain and hijacked the idea. i just love them, your honor. i have so much love for them. NOW I KNOW THIS SUBJECT MATTER ISN'T FOR EVERYONE, I REALLY DEBATED POSTING THIS OVER THE LAST FEW DAYS BC I KNOW IT'S NOT EVERYONE'S CUP OF TEA but i feel like this is a good trajectory for these two, truly. i'm so sorry if anyone disagrees with the direction i took this in and i hopei t doesn't take away from the original series for y'all

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

“No, fuck off.” Was the quick response to a wide palm caressing over your back. You were hunched over your crossed legs on the couch, aware of how bad the position was for your posture. But it was the only way to find any relief on your aching back. You had thought it was cramps at first, really, but then you realized all the symptoms of your monthly cycle fell in line with something else when the bleeding never started.

“Excuse me, darlin’? You sure you wanna use that language with me?” Joel’s deep voice was tinged with an edge, giving you the chance to retract your expletives. You were never so outright with your denial, never wanting to deny the man a few feet away. But the way in which you had expressed it to an obviously exhausted Joel was maybe too bold for the late hour. But you didn’t take it, instead repeating yourself.

“Kindly, fuck off. Don’t touch me.” You pulled away from him, hunching lower under his hand to break the contact.

“That’s not much better, ya know.” Joel’s hands shifted to his waist, a thick brow raised as he took in the sight of you nearly balled up, the faint light of the screen lighting up your face as you ignored him.

A harsh contraction of your muscles had you groaning out, “I wish I never met you.”

“C’mon now, you don’t mean that.” Joel huffed, trying to keep his calm, but you knew it was hard for him even if you really didn’t feel all that good. You never took your pain or frustration out on him like this, it was always soft murmurs of ‘hold me’ or ‘can I borrow your warmth’. Never the way you were reacting now.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into y-“ His mouth snapped shut, eyes focusing on the screen. On the words you had typed into the search engine. Normally he would tease you over the typos, your fingers not working as quick as you mind for all the grace and focus you normally had to expertly wield a sharp knife.

Your heart thumped at the sudden silence. The fizzling tension that had filled the room.

“Don’t!” You gasped out, slamming the laptop closed and shielding the device with your body completely.

“Darlin’…” You swore you could hear the cogs turning in his head. Thinking back on the depraved as desperate way you had been seeking him out when he returned home from a late shift at the restaurant even despite the haze of sleep, in the mornings before you had to peel yourself away to go to campus, the photos you had brazenly sent him without warning that had him shielding or turning his phone over throughout the day. Thinking back on the way you had been inhaling food at any occasion, none of your normal contemplation or silence after what you considered a binge. Thinking back on the way you had begun to complain of your work clothing feeling wrong and too tight on your aching body as you dressed in the morning.

When he moved to sit on the other side of the couch, far too close for comfort, you shied away and pressed your back into the arm on your end.

“Not gonna touch ya, you have my word.” He raised his hands placatingly, his expression so soft that the tears burst from you without warning.

“You do-don’t wanna touch me. Not anymo-more.” Hiccups jolted your body, making the skin you were already uncomfortable in tingle. “I ruined ev-everything.”

He regarded you with a small frown, his plush lips pulled down as he clasped his hands together in his lap. Just as he opened his mouth to speak the words flew from you.

“I remember what you said, on the line.” You narrowed your eyes at him as they echoed in your head.

‘It had been a slow day, prep and cleaning taking over most of the evening shift. It had been back before you had taken on a role in the kitchen. Sneaking fries from the bowl of them on the expo line. They hadn’t been hot or even salted, but they were better than snacking on the fruity garnishes at the bar.

He had been passing the time with who you hadn’t known at the time was his brother, Tommy. Who had driven into the city to help take a look at the empty lot beside the restaurant, both of them contemplating the construction of a patio. But they had ended up in the kitchen, hunger too strong a call.

While Joel was on the line, Tommy was beside you, sneaking fries with a wink in your direction. But you ignored him, focused on looking through the catalogue of one of your vendors. Trying to make a seasonal menu. But your ears caught the harsh grunt of the man your eyes trailed over in the midst of busy nights.

“Wouldn’t do it, no.”

“C’mon, you seriously tellin’ me you wouldn’t baby sit for me if I were to gift you with a niece or nephew.”

“No, ‘m too old. Hire a babysitter.”

“You’re full of it ‘n you know it.”

“Brother, a baby is a lot of work. Now, your baby? Even more so.” Joel leveled his brother with a look that silenced any other argument on the matter.’

The moment he realized what you were talking about, his brows flew up into his hairline and he breathed out a hearty chuckle.

“Darlin’, I was just givin’ him a hard time. You gotta know that.”

“I didn’t know you.” You stood up from the couch, body protesting the movement. Cupping a hand over your mouth, you breathed harshly as you tried to tamp down a bout of nausea. “And now that I do, I’m gonna have to consider literally everything on my own and I’m gonna hate how much it hurts to not know you any longer. I wish I-“

“No,” He sighed, brow furrowing before he pinned you with a serious expression. “You do know me now and I wouldn’t turn my back on you, on this. I’m in it, pretty girl, no matter what you decide to do.”

When you whipped away from him, shuddering breaths wracking your sore body, the crack of your voice on a sob spurred him into motion. His arms came around you slowly, giving you the chance to retreat if it wasn’t something you wanted. But you let him, the feel of his chest warm and soothing on your aching back. The push of his soft stomach comforting. His chin hooked over a shoulder, and he spoke in such a somber tone.

“Darlin’, I always thought I was too old to do this again. But I haven’t crossed fifty quite yet and the thought of you carrying my child, of loving me and my child. God, I would give anything for it to be our future. To see you blossom into yourself more, to show our baby the same devotion you give to everything in your life, you deserve somewhere to put all your love.”

One of his hands moved over the one you had on your middle. Holding you so secure, holding you both so secure.

“Joel…it’s a lot. It’s….we’re not even-“ You turned in his arms, facing him. His beautiful, open expression so full of love and adoration, all of it for you. Your heart melted in your chest, dripping low to flutter in your stomach. You weren’t even overtly religious, left over from the trauma of your childhood. Of being forced to attend mass and important holidays alongside your grandparents. The denial of your father never urging you to seek out a higher power in replacement. But the thought of technically being single and going through something like this. It made you afraid.

“There’s a ring in my sock drawer. Got it the day of our first do over date. ‘s why I was so close to the campus. It’s yours. I’m yours. This could be yours. But only if you want it.” Joel’s forehead lightly thumped against yours as he pressed in close. His breath a warm wash over your face, smelling faintly of cigarette smoke.

Looking between each of his eyes, searching for any hint of hesitancy from him it was quiet. When you didn’t find any, you felt a smile pull at your lips as you nodded your head in affirmation. Wet laughter bubbling up as his lips pressed to yours, a smile of his own for you to feel on them.

“But I still expect you to propose, can’t skip any steps with me. I know you think you’re hot shit with being crowned the city’s most prolific chef of the year but I swear to-“

He cut you off with another kiss, his moustache ticking your upper lip as he nipped at your bottom one.

“I don’t wanna miss any steps with ya, darlin’. I’m here for ‘em all.”

It was hard to ignore the stirring of other feelings in your body, drowning out the aches and pains. But when realization hit you, you pulled back with wide eyes.

“We’re gonna have to stop drinking and smoking!”

“We?”

taglist: @tuquoquebrute @jessthebaker @littlemisspascal @76bookworm76 @hiddenbabynyc @clevergirl74 @anavatazes @samiamproductions @sarap-77 @honeyedmiller @undercoverpena

130 notes · View notes

nervousron · 3 months

Note

I was replaying fresh meat and I really wish the game showed the like effect that it had on mikey. I read a fic like whet he became a peskatreian (I've butcherd the spelling but a veggie that eats fish) and freaks out whenever Trevor talks about cannablism.

I might write sm about the aftermath of fresh meat trikey style.

This doesn't make mush sense but I'd love to hear your thoughts about fresh meat, especially the aftermath

Duuude yeah Meat by @nevergonnasimpyoumikey ?! Its such a good fic. Michael is a tough rocko macho guy, but he's definitely gonna be affected by the trauma hes gone through.

Also sorry i never oublished this ask! I had been coming back and rewording it a hundred times then never posted. So heres the things i stopped and started! Theres a lot of repeating in there from me restarting ideas, so sorry for the repetitiveness!

I love thinking aboutbjow micjael feels before and after. Slightlu conflicted, but mostly angry. Hiding his shame and guilt behind fury. I think Michael would totally develop a small grudge against Trevor over it. In the beginning im sure he's pissed, but at least gets the karmic joke of it all. He lied to Trevor and tried to have him killed. Now Trevor's life decisions post-ludendorff are what will kill Michael. He gets it, he's piss-scared, and he's pretty sure he's gonna die. But there's a part of him that hopes that Trevor's loyalty will win out. Hes fucked him over countless times, and T always came back no matter what. Maybe this time wont be different? Trevor will show up at the last second and everything will be fine. But then again-

after the abuse he deals with from Cheng and his men, he starts getting more scared. He doesnt want to deal with that, so he gets angrier. Angry at Cheng, Trevor, Dave Norton, and himself. Then back around to Trevor because if hes gonna die, hes not gonna die being self reflective about the consequences of his actions.

When youre playing as Franklin you can overhear two of Cheng's men talking about sending Michael's meat to Trevor when theyre done killing him. I really hope one of them mentioned it to Michael too, because thatd be a fun nightmare for him to have on repeat.

And his lines when hes a cow from peyote are fun to throw into this mess:

"Aint no one gonna make bacon outta me, baby"

I thought i was a man, now i eat grass? Is that better?

I used to eat meat, now people want to kill me. Why, im not so bad. I mean sure i used to kill people and now i eat flowers, but give a recidivist ruminant a break, will ya?

I think the smell of meat would be nauseating for him for a while. But considering he kills on the regular and is more than accustomed to gorey smells, I think itd twist in a particular way that makes him more inclined to "power through it" and just eat a bunch of medium rare bleeder burgers, almost like exposure therapy. He throws up all of it, but he at least thinks theres some progress there.

I think deep down michael was hoping trevor would come back for him. Cause if he did, it would mean he was forgiven. He knows what he did was the end all be all of betrayal, and he knows that in a sick way this is probably karma and he definitely deserves it. But he doesnt want to die, and definitely not in a meat grinder. But alone in a cold cell he probably laughed to himself over the irony. Trevors fuck-up being the reason he dies. The whole mess he was trying to avoid by fucking atrevor over in the first place.

I would love to read anything and everything youve got about fresh meat!

#talkaton

6 notes · View notes

fragmcntedsouls · 2 months

Text

[ drew starkey | he/him ] Another face is seeking safety in New Orleans. Make sure to welcome ABEL CAMPBELL to the home of the resilient. Rumor has it that they are a 24 year old WEREWOLF, who is one of the SACRIFICED but we’ll keep that a secret. They are said to be ZEALOUS, but that’s all a façade to cover up their SAGACIOUS nature. We’ve heard that they can be found listening to PARANOID by I PREVAIL, which sums them up pretty well. Let’s hope that they can find a way to survive this harsh new world.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄: 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄: thomas abel campbell 𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄: abel, tommy 𝐀𝐆𝐄: 21/24 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄: june 23rd 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍: new orleans 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄: new orleans 𝐎𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: a hot mess 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓: neutral 𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓: melancholic 𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂: punched walls, bloodied knuckles, the silent sufferer, gives excellent advice that he won't follow himself, backward caps, good intentions; terrible results. Saying 'this is a bad idea' a hundred times before doing stupid shit with his friends. 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: infertility, death, ptsd, alcoholism, more death, trauma the works (i told ya it was coming)

𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘:

Abel’s parents struggled to conceive their first and only son and after years of longing for a child, eventually their prayers were answered and his mother fell pregnant. The day that he was born was the greatest in her short life and while Abel doesn’t have definitive memories of his late mother, he does know how much she loved him. Life in the bayou was hard and the family didn’t have much to their names, his father having even enlisted into the military, anything to help their little family get by, but Abel's mother fell ill and without access to sufficient medicine, she passed away when he was young.

Eventually, his father remarried and Abel was raised by his stepmom while Tobias was away. Growing up in the bayou, he had no idea of the world that existed outside of the pack – or at least, he didn’t until meeting Marni. They became instant best friends, but it was only then that Abel began to see the divide between pack life and the life that existed outside of the bayou. Underprivileged, Abel didn’t attend public school or have friends outside of the pack other than Marni and he used to sneak out to meet her, with her being the one to teach him to read and write, even bringing him new clothes and food because she could see how much he needed it. The pair grew up together, navigating their lives side by side – except it was never destined to be that simple.

When Abel was seventeen, his mother passed and his father had already been struggling with alcoholism after taking leave from the military, the grief of another loss was everything to tip him over the edge. Abel and his siblings had lost both of their parents and while the pack did their best to rally together to help the siblings, Abel just needed his father. Over the course of the next couple years, Tobias would disappear and reappear like clockwork and Abel would make countless excuses for the man. Preserve the memory of the man he once knew, the man he swore his father could still be for his sisters. The Kenner's took pity on the siblings, caring for them when Tobias couldn’t.

Abel always had a kind heart, sometimes to a fault and he would go out of his way to help others; after the death of his mother and his father pulling another disappearing act, he could feel himself descending into a state of self destruction — until he was offered a proposition, something that would save his sisters, his father and importantly to him, save Marni. Her coven were always a part of something bigger, something that Abel didn’t understand himself but desired for the sake of Marni. He was the first test subject for the prison world, but once he was in -- the witches went back on their deal and didn't let him out again. Inside the prison world, he endured hell; despite being a crescent he was subjected to countless turns, every day for over a thousand days. A thousand turns. Still, he had to believe in Marni and in her coven. It was all for the greater good – but that idea became fractured after Briggs was thrown into the prison world with him. He saw the way that his friend suffered and after seeing the way that Abel suffered, Marni pulled him out of the prison world, but Abel begged to return for Briggs. Marni unwillingly agreed, sending Abel back, but she sent him with the formula to get out.

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃��𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍'𝐒:

⭒ abel triggered his crescent curse when he was 14 years old, his father was in debt owed bad people a lot of money and so they came to the bayou looking for it. In his fathers drunken state, he threw a punch that didn't land steady and ended up getting jumped. protecting his mother and sisters, abel ran outside and reached for the closest thing to be used as a weapon. you know how the rest goes. ⭒ after the collapse of the prison world, abel was encouraged by marni to get out of new orleans and so he did. the trauma of it all having rapidly caught up with him, shutting him down entirely. ⭒ since returning, abel has tried to rebuild the relationships with his sisters, knowing that he left them just like their father had. who is also currently off on yet another bender.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒:

parents: evelyn campbell ( birth mother † ), ocean campbell nee whitlock ( step-mother † ) tobias campbell ( father ) the kenners ( stand in family ) siblings: oaklee campbell ( 22 year old sister ), bryson campbell ( 18 year old sister ) madelyn campbell ( 7 year old sister ) relationships: marni lewis (soulmate don't @ him), aria cadieux (best friend), briggs mikaelson, lucas cadieux, (bro's), riley shaw, jackie miller ( ex fwb ) pack: crescent pack

#something about you is soft like an angel; something inside you is violence and danger | | abel campbell: intro #exitium.intro

3 notes · View notes

sunflowersoldat · 2 years

Text

All is Fair~ Blood & Brothers

How Bucky met Peter ;)

Main Master List

Series Master List

Series Summary: Family is important, but so is the Family business. Everyone has secrets, some are deadly. You’re the best in the business, but no one knows who you are. Tensions are high, will you raise the stakes or fold under pressure?

Series Warnings: 18+! Mentions of blood and violence, bad language words, smut, manipulation, gaslighting, death, trauma, please follow the warnings for each chapter.

Chapter warnings: 18+ Only! Violence and threats. Bad language words, angst, mentions of torture, blood.

Pairing: Mob!Steve x Assassin!Stark!reader

Word count: approx. 1.9K

A/N: Let me know what y'all think. I really hope y'all enjoy the look into Bucky and Peter's past! feedback is always welcome, let me know your favorite part. Kinda get a small look at how Steve was when he first took over the mantle.

Five years ago-

Bucky flipped his collar against the snow and icy wind, his target, Daniel Whitehall, barely visible even though he was mere feet in front of him. Buck strained his eyes as he kept his gaze on the footprints in the snow, eyes flickering back to the darkened outline ahead of him.

Steve and the rest of the heads had agreed to let him tail the Red Skull’s right hand, at least that is what the intel they were given said. Bucky thought back to the family meeting Odin had called, the white haired Don was fuming. Hydra had broken into one of the vaults and drained the entire mob of their savings, well not the entire mob, Steve and Howard had been smart enough to have an account offshore that held a good chunk, just in case.

He pulled his coat closer, this cold was starting to get to him, but he couldn't go back to the families with his tail between his legs, to embarrass Steve in such a way. If he couldn't pull this off, Odin’s favorite son would be tasked with the assignment instead.

Thor.

Bucky wasn’t a fan, but that wasn't surprising, he wasn't a fan of anyone. Steve had been the special exception, they grew up together, brothers in everything but blood. But that didn't mean Bucky received special treatment, no, if anything, Steve was harder on him. And right now, Bucky and Sam were both gunning for the position as Steve's Right Hand, this was his chance to prove himself.

Whitehall turned down an alley. Keeping his distance, Bucky slunk against the brick wall, peeking around the corner. Two men stood in a half circle, Whitehall joining them, around a heap of… Bucky couldn’t tell what they were standing around.

“What do we do with’em?” the taller of the men asked no one in particular.

“He’s useless to us, the Skull has ordered he’d be taken care of.” Whitehall replied hastily, as he looked around cautiously.

Dark chuckles filled the alley, the heap moved slightly, earning it a kick from the taller man, “Ya hear that kid? We’re gonna dump ya in the river, gonna sleep with the fishes.”

The heap groaned, lifting its head, a mess of curly hair damp from the snow, his face beaten and bleeding, the snow beneath him a deep shade of red, “Please, I’ll fix it… I’ll fix it… please, my aunt…”

Another harsh kick landed against his abdomen, the shortest kneeling, a fistfull of the kid's hair in his grasp, his head craning painfully to meet their gazes, “Oh don’t worry, your beautiful aunt will have company soon…” From his position at the end of the alley, Bucky watched a predatory smile split the man's lips.

Whitehall turned from the men, walking back down the alley, “Clean up your messes, the Skull won’t tolerate incompetence. Let me know when it is done.”

Whitehall emerged from the alley, making his way farther down the street. Buck knew he should follow Whitehall, but he couldn't leave this kid to die at these animals’ hands. Taking a deep breath he said goodbye to the Right Hand position as he watched his breath cloud in front of him, before rounding the corner, gun raised. The taller of the men had a gun aimed at the kid, the shorter one turning to Bucky, “Hey pal, get outta here, this doesn't concern you!”

Bucky’s eyes were cold as they met the short man’s, “Actually it does.” Three shots rang in the air, the snow swallowing most of the soundwaves.

The first shot landed between the eyes of the shorter man, the second taking the gun from the taller man’s hand, then a clean shot to his knee. The man dropping into the snow, his pained howls silenced as Bucky’s fist and gun collided with his face.

Bucky immediately knelt to check on the kid, gently cradling his head in his hands, “Oh kid, what have you gotten yourself into?” his fingers slipping to the kids pulse, a weak beat thrummed under the surface, “Stay with me kid.”

He removed his phone from his pocket, placing it between his ear and shoulder, as he picked up the kid, Wade answered, “Howling Commandos–”

“Stuff it Wilson, I need you to pick me up, I’ve got a snack for ya…” Bucky gave a disgusted look to the man unconscious in the snow.

“Oooohhh is it a Cephalopod snack?”

Bucky grinned, “It sure is. Think you can make him squeal?”

Wade laughed cruelly, “With pleasure.”

—

Bucky paced around the warehouse, he had called in a favor from Dr. Cho, who seemed more than happy to help Bucky save the kid from the brink of death. He was fine with losing the Right Hand position, but he wasn't fine with the embarrassment he knew he brought down on Steve.

“Would you quit that nervous shit? I can’t focus, I can practically taste your eagerness to please Daddy Steve.” Wade snapped, his knife sliding along the whetstone with a high pitched *sshhk* *sshhk* *sshhk*

Stopping, Bucky turned, glaring at Wade, who had pulled a chair to sit in front of the subject, “Wilson if you don't shut the fu–”

The side door to the warehouse opened, Steve walked through, in his black slacks, white button down, his long black chesterfield coat draped across his shoulders, leather gloves covered his hands. His eyes met Bucky’s, the intensity of his stormy eyes causing Bucky to lower his head. Bucky respected Steve, he had for a long time, in a way that only most people were beginning to adopt as well. He respected the man, not only because he was his brother and boss, but because he knew what he was capable of. Raised to be probably the most successful mob boss in the history of New York. Most people only believed he was in power because his parents died, but Bucky knew better, Steve had beat his old man out of the position years ago, and had been calling the shots long before they died. He just allowed Joseph to keep up appearances, they didn't need the whole of New York thinking there was weakness in the Rogers house.

They were toe-to-toe now, Steve’s brow quirked, as he began to roll his sleeves, “Wanna tell me what the hell happened?”

Bucky swallowed hard, “I lost Whitehall…”

Scoffing Steve leaned closer, “I can see that Buck. Care to…” he sniffed glancing around, “explain to me how that happened?”

It was presented as a question, but Bucky knew better, Steve’s gloved hand gently caressed his face. Bucky stood deathly still, waiting, Steve raised both brows, “Well pal?”

Bucky cleared his throat, “Well–”

“Mr. Barnes, he is going to be alright.” Dr. Cho’s voice rose above Steve’s as she walked through the office door, she froze as she lifted her gaze from her bloodied gloves, “Oh, I’m sorry…”

Steve’s gaze flicked to her, then back to Bucky, “Who's going to be alright?”

Bucky swallowed, “I… uh. I saved a kid…”

Steve’s demeanor softened, “Is that why you lost Whitehall?”

Bucky nodded slowly, “They were gonna kill him, Steve.”

Steve patted Bucky’s cheek lightly, “Show me.”

Bucky moved towards the office, following Dr. Cho, to find the kid lying asleep on the office couch, his stomach “He’s no older than thirteen, from the looks of him, Mr. Barnes. You got him to safety just in time.”

He took a step closer, “Has he said anything?”

She shook her head, “No, he's been unconscious since I finished patching him, must've passed out from the pain. Poor child, wondering what he was doing mixed up with Hydra.”

Bucky turned to Steve, “Look pal, I’m sorry, I couldn’t just leave ’em–”

Steve placed his hand on Bucky’s shoulder shaking his head, “Don’t apologize for having mercy. It’s what separates us from Hydra, Buck.”

“Yeah, but I failed you, Odin will send Thor because of my incompetence.”

Steve bobbed his head, “Probably, but who's to say we won't get to Red Skull first.” a smirk pulled at his lips.

“How are we gonna do that?”

Shrugging Steve went back into the main hall, “Pretty sure you brought Wade a snack…” he gazed at Bucky, “What do you say Right Hand, think this scumbag has the info we’re looking for?”

Bucky drew his brows together, “Punk?”

Steve chuckled at his shock, “Couldn't imagine anyone else by my side…” he nodded back to the office where the kid was sleeping, “You made the right decision. Whether Odin sees it that way or not, I do. Let’s get the bastard that is vile enough to order a hit on a child.”

Bucky’s lips curled in a malicious smile, turning towards Wade and the subject, it was time to work, “Hey Snack!”

—

The subject they had detained happened to be none other than the third in command under Red Skull, Heinz Kruger, and it turns out that he wasn't good with knife wounds. Or Wade was just really adept with a knife, either way, he sang like a canary. Red Skull turned out to be Johann Schmidt, Bucky smiled as he pulled up to the establishment Kruger had given him as Red Skull’s base of operations, Club Hypnosis, he scoffed at the cliché name.

It was past midnight, but the club was still thriving, the multicolored lights flashing behind the closed security door, leaning against the wall, he banged on the door, causing a Hydra goon to step out. Taking the opportunity, Bucky grabbed him, disarming him, then shoving the goons own knife into his throat, he left him in the alley as he slipped through the door.

The thump of the music disguising Bucky’s suppressed shots as he expertly took down the security on the way to the main office upstairs. Irate voices rose from behind the door, he recognized Whithall’s and the other he assumed was Johann, “Idiot! We will never be anything more than what we are if we cannot even kill a child!”

“Herr Schmidt, he will understand, we cannot just keep cleaning his messes, the other families will start to question–”

Checking his ammunition, Bucky burst through the door, “Hello boys… the kid sends his regards.”

Two shots left Bucky’s gun, each hitting their mark between both the sons of bithches eyes, he picked up his phone, dialing Steve, “Steve, it’s done” He whispers, shooting Johann one more time in the chest, “For the kid” he whispers, walking from the club, the party goers not aware of the death that now stained the floors. He made his way back to his home; to his brothers.

—

Bucky trudged through the door to the family mansion, the house was quiet, aside from the soft whispers and laughter coming from the kitchen, quietly he made his way there, standing quietly in the doorway.

Steve sat at the bar, the kid sitting next to him, Alpine resting quietly in the kid’s lap, “So Peter, where are you from?” Steve asked, taking a bite of the ice cream in front of him.

Peter. That was his name. He wasn't just a nameless victim, and as long as Bucky was breathing, he would always be protected.

Around a spoonful of Rocky Road, Peter answered, “Qu… Queens, Mr. Rogers.” Bucky smiled, as he watched Steve initiate the kid into the House of Rogers. Bucky’s heart swelled, he now had two little brothers to keep an eye on, to protect with his life.

~Welcome Home Queens~

@dontbescaredtosingalong @texan-tazzy @tianamontag @daiseychaindisaster @silently-killing-you @buckyfan12 @leyannrae @justlovelifeblog @austynparksandpizza @captainson-of-coul @betareader7 @vicmc624

74 notes · View notes