#travis hackett imagine

[anna1306]

Protection

@hrefna-the-raven @rosedreamer44

Long time ago you both asked me for some fic with Travis, and after a long time here it is. Hope you will like it and if anything, request more, I can and will write it c:

Travis Hackett x Reader

You never considered yourself a brave person. You never fought with anyone, let alone gather courage and get yourself into dangerous situation. But everything changed in an instant, it seemed.

When you found yourself befriending Travis, you couldn't imagine what could happen next. You knew he was a brooding, standalone policeman, probably the only one in the whole area (which was strange, but you didn't question it at the time). You were a delivery person, who always made sure he wasn't entirely alone in his station. And with time you broke his facade enough for him to smile and laugh at your jokes.

Another thing was to break his walls enough to get to his heart. It wasn't your ultimate goal, but with time you noticed how different it felt, when he was looking at you. How his every smile charmed you more. How your heart flattered, when he was telling you about something, whispering in the quietness of his office.

But you two were scaredy-cats. And after spontaneous, but passionate kiss on his working table in the police station, you both hid from each other.

It took some time for both of you. For you - to gather courage and show up on his porch to talk and admit your feelings. For him - to get over some of his problems he had and agree to try something with you.

"I... My life is complicated as it is." He admitted, sitting at his desk, with hot coffee in his hands. You fiddled with the spoon in your tea, too nervous to actually drink it. "And I want you to understand that it isn't... Easy for me to let you in on everything that is going on."

"You sound like a character from a movie." You tried to lighten the mood, but Travis was too serious at the moment. He looked at you as if he was almost in pain.

"Y/N, I am serious. It could be dangerous for you. Just trust me. It is up to you, but... I'd rather have you as far away from it as possible."

"Do you understand what you are doing?" You scoffed, making him look at you. "Travis, I confessed to you that I love you. That I care for you..."

"I feel the same, that's why we are having this talk." Travis interrupted you, emotional as always.

"You are telling me that your life is dangerous for me and you want to keep me away from you. But it's not dangerous to you?" You pressed the matter. Hackett leaned back on his chair and shook his head.

"It is extremely dangerous for anyone, but..."

"Then you don't have the right to tell me that I need to stay away." You stated straight in his face. He looked at you in surprise, not expecting this from you, so soft and kind usually and not assertive in any way. "You, the person I love, is in danger. I can't stay away or just not care about it."

"Y/N, I can't..."

"It is my decision, Travis. It is my life. And if I am to stay away from you, I would be sick worried to my stomach about your life. This would be dangerous as well." You reached to his hand, covering his fingers with yours. He didn't look at his face, even if you stared in his eyes.. "You don't have to tell me the truth. Just... Promise that you won't leave me alone after telling me all about this danger."

He watched you silently for a moment, taking in your face, slowly tracing it with his gaze. Heavy sigh fell from his lips, as he stood up and went around the desk to be close to you. When he sat before your chair on the floor, crouching, you looked at him questioningly, expecting him to say anything.

"You are the most bravest, shyest and pretty idiot with no sense of self-preservation, you know?" Finally said Hackett. And while it wasn't the most romantic line, you still giggled, cupping his face with a hand. He wasn't good with romantic stuff obviously, but this lack of beautiful words felt just right. It was a sign of affection from him.

"If you have me this way, I am okay with that." You smiled, watching him close his eyes and snuggle to your fingers.

"I promise you that I won't let any harm come your way." He whispered. You shook your head. You knew he was strong enough, but you didn't want to think about bad things. You didn't want to think that he could risk his life for you, even if you were sure that he would protect you.

"I know. If so... Can we repeat that evening?.. With kiss..." You shyly asked, feeling how your cheeks burnt red. Travis smirked, reaching for your lips readily. Who he was to deny you?

It was sweet after this. He made soft gestures to you, giving you flowers or making you go on some picnic. He was soft towards you, accurate in his actions and words, but at the same time passionate in kisses and physical affection. Travis was the best in your book, whether it was about dating or listening. His advices were the best.

You didn't raise the theme of danger level in your relations for a long time. You knew there was something, as Travis didn't answer the phone on some nights and even told you to stay away from the station and the forest. But he always came back to you.

And then... The Night happened. It was one of those days, when he told you to stay away from him and from the station. You didn't question anything. Not then, not when your phone ringed in the middle of the night. You just jumped into your car and went for the police station. You thought Travis needed help (ignoring the fact of silence in the phone). But you definitely didn't expect big monster jumping in front of your car. Before you could scream or before this creature could do anything, there were two shots, scaring the monster away. Travis ushered you inside the building, trembling, as he looked at you with mix of anguish, anger and fear in his eyes.

After one long explanation, dozens of angry curses and three cups of coffee you found out the truth. Of why it was so dangerous for you to stay near Travis. Of who exactly was this creature. And why you should have never went out in night on the full moon.

It took some more time. For Travis to talk it over with his family and make a decision of what to do next. For you to process the thought that your boyfriend was connected to... Werewolves. To disappearances of tourists. To some horror stories of the past.

But eventually you moved in to Hackett's house. You wanted to help him, he wanted you to be safe and under his protection. It was for the best for both of you.

While friendly from the start, Hacketts became more strict with time. You helped with housework - cooking, cleaning. Your own job let you sometimes get out and go for a ride, but still you felt isolated from the world for the most part. You understood the reasoning behind it, but couldn't help it...

If it wasn't for Travis, who was attentive, kept his more or less romantic tone with you, helped you sometimes, you would get bored pretty quickly. You could now fall asleep with him, you could snuggle up to him, kiss him whenever you could. You got to see more relaxed, home Travis. But...

At the same time you got to see how he always gave all of his time and consideration to family. Every free minute, every free second, free cent went into helping the family. You became all too wary of his mother, when you understood how strict she really was.

Nothing could be good in her book, unless it was perfect. Got some meat for the meal? You should have gotten more. Shun tourists away? They shouldn't be here in the first place. Were gone for three days and nights in search of the White Wolf? Well, why didn't he trapped yet?

There was always nagging, always comments, grumbling and reproaches. You kept your mouth shut for a while. After all you were just a newcomer in this house, not part of the family, even if Travis' niece, Kaylee, and Bobby were very warm to you.

But your heart still clenched every time Travis managed to got on her bad side. He looked guilty every time. Like he really did something bad. Even if there wasn't anything. He was always the guilty one in his family.

This evening you were reading the book, resting after long day of job deliveries. The full moon was in two weeks, there were still people in the camp, and you had nothing to worry about, everything was good and safe.

You were too deep in your thoughts about quiet evening with Travis, since he promised he would come back earlier that day. You were already imagining his soft scent, warm hands and kisses, full of love. You almost didn't notice the screams. Almost.

When you heard his mother's voice, you furrowed your brows. Maybe there was going on something important, and you were missing out on the information. You stood up from the armchair in your and Travis' bedroom, hastily going out and heading towards the living room, where the commotion was.

"You lost him again!" Constance was fuming, according to the voice. You carefully entered the room and sighed. Travis was standing before his mother, looking anywhere, but at her. His face was unreadable, you knew that expression all too well. Usually emotional, he never let anything express on his face in front of his mother. He always closed off and went inside himself mentally.

"The boy is fast. Even in normal days, you know that." Chris started, trying to defend his brother, but was cut shortly by mother's stare.

"Your brother always fails." She sharply turned to Travis. "Everything you do is failure." She spitted almost hatefully. Travis didn't move from his spot. You sighed, slowly coming into family's view and walking to his side. Man shivered, when you took his hand, raising his pained eyes on your face.

"Are you okay?" You quietly asked him. He nodded and glanced at his mother.

"There was no way for me to catch him today. I wasn't in a car, I was on foot. And only had couple of silver bullets."

"You could, if you tried! But you preferred to stay safe and not protect your family!" You looked at Constance angrily. "You always choose yourself. Became a policeman, because you wanted to. Brought this... Person into our house. Spilled our secret! Now you can't even protect our family! You should have went straight to this beast instead of thinking about hiding."

"Would you prefer Bobby to find his dead body in the morning?" You suddenly asked before you could stop yourself. Constance shot you an angry look. Travis gripped your fingers, trying to stop you. But you were done at this point.

"Care to repeat?" She dared you. You pursed your lips not caring for her sharp look.

"Would you rather have Travis dead?" You repeated your question louder. "You are going on and on about what he should have done. About how he is the failure. How he is nothing and should do better for his family. But he is doing everything."

"You stay out of this. This is family business, and you are noone here." She warned you.

"I know that I'm noone. And you are still kinder to me than to your own son!" You exclaimed. "Travis knows the situation, he was there, and if he chose to hide and stay safe, then he didn't do it selfishly, he did it because he knew that it was the best choice."

"He is coward!"

"He isn't coward in the slightest! Travis wants nothing more than to save this family!" You screamed back at her. "He would die to protect you all! But there would be no point in risking his life if in the end he wouldn't get the wolf!"

"He could have!"

"How do you know?! You weren't there!"

"As weren't you. Yet here you are, raising your voice at me, ungrateful slut!" The woman almost got red in face, screaming at you.

"You can degrade me and call me names, whatever you want, I don't care." You laughed loudly. "But don't you dare scream at your own son and make him the scape goat. He is doing everything for you, yet you are blaming him for every little misstep."

"He deserves it."

"He deserves a good family and loving parents, that trying to fix the situation with him together, not guilttriping him after he tries to defend himself. He deserves a good night sleep, and not jumping in the middle of the night and going out in the forest. He deserves a good, calm job, and not the one, where he should hide the bodies of tourists and lie to others about the situation around here!" You blurted out all of this in one breath, looking furiously at his shocked mother. Travis took you by shoulders and turned to him so you would look at him.

"Y/N, calm down. Don't..."

"No, I'm tired!" You shook your head, getting out of his hands. You looked at him almost offended, you tried to prove a point about his well-being, yet here he was, trying to calm you down, as his mother wanted. "I'm tired to see you stressed out! I'm tired that the man I love the most in this world is being degraded by his own freaking family! That you are never here! I try to help you as much as I can, but I can't anymore hear everyone blaming you again and again, when you are the one who protects them from everything! And you know what sucks the most? That I can't help you! Even my today words won't reach your mother, nothing would change, she would only hate me more and would tell you how I am the bad person!"

You didn't notice you started crying. Travis froze in his place for a second and then stepped to you, hugging you tightly and pressing your face into his chest. He knew how much you hated showing your feelings to others, plus he didn't want your emotions to go overboard completely. You pressed yourself into him, whimpering, crying not because you were tired or pained, but because of him. You were crying for him, like it was you who was constantly degraded and put down. It sure as hell felt like it.

You didn't know how long you stood there. Consumed by your emotions and thoughts, you lost the sense of time or other world or people around you. When you felt your fingers getting numb by your grip on his shirt, you slowly pulled away. Travis looked at you wary.

"Sugar? You alright?" You nodded, feeling a bit lightheaded. You noticed there was noone around you.

"I need to apologize to her, right?" You asked quietly and hiccuped from all the tears. Travis sighed, pursing his lips.

"I don't know. I have never seen her so conflicted. Ever." He admitted, cupping your face and wiping your tears with his fingers. Travis looked at you attentively, making you sigh.

"I'm sorry. I know you love her to death, but she just... Her constant anger at you... And your look, I just..."

"Thank you." Travis suddenly said quietly. "Noone stood up for me, really. And I didn't need anyone to. She didn't listen to anyone. I'm surprised she didn't throw something at you." He scoffed, making you smile weakly.

"You know that I love you, right? I want the best for you. And it is so unfair, that you try and try, but in the end..." You stopped yourself before you could go on another rant, shaking your head. Travis kissed you on the forehead, closing his eyes.

"I know. You are the best thing that happens to me in this cursed place." He whispered to you, as if it was a secret. "I promise. Once all of it ends, I am going to marry you and get out of here as soon as possible."

"Now I want to go out to this forest and kill the bastard myself." You joked, making him laugh and hug you again.

You knew it would be hard. Knew that you should go and apologize later. Knew that you would have a long talk with his mother. Maybe she even understood something. But you weren't worried about it at the moment. All you cared about - Travis' warm and soft arms. All you wanted to do - let him know that he was loved and cherished.

Thankfully to you, he knew that now.

[the-faceless-bride]

Travis Hackett [The Quarry]

Jake Washington [wrong Turn]

Sans [undertale]

Connor [Detroit become human]

Jack Sparrow [Pirates of the Caribbean]

Joker [DC]

Peter Parker [Marvel]

Tony Stark [Marvel]

Rick [Rick and Morty]

Emily [Corpse Bride]

Noir [spider man]

Miguel [spider man]

Hobie [Spinder Punk]

Neteyam [Avatar]

Itward [franbow]

francis mosses [that's not my neighbor]

[zerzurianspy]

now i am thinking of an au where everything is the same except travis being an oriental cat and catching laura and max and then imprisoning them and making laura tell him everything that is needed all this while being a cat and also talking in his human voice(and while having an argument with his mother tiny cat tears fall down his cat face)

[ghostradiodylan]

Oh look, the Quarry archive has delivered

💥emotional damage💥

Ryan might be the only one left who knew Chris as well as Travis did... and I feel like if they had a chat, it could both help them grieve.

[hrefna-the-raven]

The Quarry - masterlist

all Travis Hackett x female reader

The Naiad (nymph reader)

Chapter 1 - The naiad of the lake

Chapter 2 - Kintsugi

Taste of regret (human female reader)

Chapter 1 - Wednesdays

Chapter 2 - Thursdays

Chapter 3 - Lunch

Chapter 4 - Friday

Chapter 5 - Unspoken

Chapter 6 - Tuesday, 27 October 2015 (18+)

Chapter 7 (final) - Taste of regret

The Aftermath

Chapter 1 - Start believing

Chapter 2 - Behind bars

Chapter 3 - Belly of the beast

Chapter 4 - White wolf

Imagines

Being a counselor at the summer camp

The well

Police academy

Dating Travis

SPN comes to the rescue

Don't you wanna kiss me and seal the deal, Sheriff?

Camping drabble

[draganwhorror]

Can I get your werewolf!Travis headcanons? 👀

That's a good question. I honestly don't have too many headcanons for werewolf!Travis, only because he's not really my cup of tea. I think having Travis in werewolf form...well, it depends on how he's written (in fics). Very rarely does he appeal to me.

However, I will say these are the headcanons I do have for him:

When he turns, he's furry rather than hairless like the wolves in the game. I imagine Travis to be a dark brown wolf, or even all black, with streaks of gray in his fur

He's a lean, muscular wolf. He has a strength to him, even if he doesn't look it

I feel like he'd have alpha male tendencies in that he's the oldest Hackett (not counting his parents), and so if the Hacketts were all wolves and a pack, he'd be the leader/in charge

However, I also feel like Travis is more of a lone wolf. He doesn't want to be around others and prefers to keep to the shadows, avoiding everyone and everything

And, if he were with Laura (whether she was a wolf or not), I'd imagine him to be ultra-protective of her, doing everything in his power to keep her safe, even if it meant being more aggressive towards others while in his wolf form (growling/baring teeth, possibly attacking if things escalated)

I think that's about it...

[cellard0ors]

Fic: Five of Swords (Part of A Full Deck Series)

Fandom: The Quarry

Pairing: Travis Hackett/Laura Kearney

Rating: Teen

Warnings:  Character Death, Wakes & Funerals, Grief/Mourning, Drinking, Explicit Language, Smoking, Minor Violence, Threats, Promises, Anger, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse

Notes: Dedicated to @spookyscaryscully for the idea/help. Also please imagine the pic above with a BLACK suit. I tried to change it but I don't have Photoshop, so...yeeeeeah. 💀

Preview:

It was a gorgeous day in 1999.

The sun was out, the skies were clear other than the occasional stray wisps of cloud, and the temperature was neither too hot, nor too cold. It was a gorgeous day and it was the day of Amelia Hackett’s funeral. There’s no written rule that the day of burials should be dark and gloomy, but the disposition of the day felt grossly inappropriate.

Father Hopkins, who had been their priest since Travis was fifteen, gave a moving, albeit very slow speech during the church service. It was followed by some words from Amelia's friends and family and concluded with her husband, Chris Hackett, who was barely holding it together while he spoke about his never-ending love for his wife.

AO3 Link

[queenofbaws]

whoops

did it again

uh oh. sos. did too much today, used up all my spoons, got sad and started thinking about them.*

*tragic supermassive siblings that never had a chance

[wolfawaycamp]

LauraMax roleswap as in, she’s the one who gets bitten and he’s the one playing support.

this part’s prob too broad for a drabble but I’m fascinated by imagining how that would even play out bc I just can’t picture him going on a werewolf hunt?! the hurt/comfort of being bitten/the eye gouge scenes would slap tho

🌦️ max “so on board with murder” brinly is faced with having to do it himself…. I offer you some angst

Through the pang of pain in his eye— that had, at one point, gotten so bad that Travis had to give him antibiotics— Max focused on the werewolf.

This was it. He just had to kill a werewolf and then Laura was going to be okay. He didn't know how to shoot as well as Laura did, he wasn't as fearless, he couldn't ever be as relentlessly devoted to anything as she was to everything. Nevertheless, he had to do this for her, now, and he had to get this shot right. If he failed tonight he was coming back next month— as many times as it took.

He crept closer, holding his breath, and aimed to the best of his ability.

The recoil of the gun in his hands and the noise almost took him off his feet. He made the shot. Holy shit, he made the shot.

He wasn't going to stick around because as much as his annoyance at the Hackett family had festered, he didn't want to see if the body was going to turn back into Chris Hackett. It was a werewolf. It was not a man.

Besides, he had to see Laura.

***

He used one of those boats to get back to the island with anticipation in his heart, giddily excited to finally see Laura, now that she was fine. Things could go back to normal now. They'd talked about it all in the cells. Max was gonna get a job and they'd share an apartment while Laura went to veterinary school. It was a better plan than what they were going to do before, because Max didn't actually want to go to grad school, not really— he had just wanted to follow Laura. Plus, him having income would be better than the two of them living on student loans. Max was going to make so many jokes about how Laura's first-hand experience with wolves made her the perfect vet candidate, now that she wasn't living it.

“Laura?” he called out, and got no answer. That made sense, right? She was probably exhausted and passed out when she turned back.

He made his way up the treehouse and called out again, just in case she was actually awake and just hadn't heard him, “Laura?”

Then, it— she— was there, and this was all so wrong. There was a werewolf in front of him and there shouldn't be any werewolves and he knew it was Laura. Why? He had killed Chris— he had killed Chris, right? Was it all wrong? Had he killed someone under a lie, wrongly thinking that it would cure Laura?

He was stuck in place and he knew it was a movie cliché but all he wanted to do was call out to Laura, reach her under the monster that had taken over. She was still there, right? She had to be. He said, desperate, eyes wet, “Laura, it's— it's me, it's Max, you know me, I love y—”

He cut himself off when she moved, and burst into a sprint. His chest heaved and tears pricked in his eyes. God, he had wanted that to work so badly.

Then, she had him in her grip and he was being bitten. It burned like hell, worse than his eye being taken out, worse than the peak of the eye infection, worse than anything he had ever felt.

[ghostradiodylan]

I'm on a four hour car drive, singing at the top of my lungs (terribly, I'm so congested right now, not gonna stop me though lol), and having quarry brainrot. Who among the counselors do you think can sing well and who do you think can play an instrument?

I looove this question and I have to admit I haven’t thought about it that much so this is gonna be kind of off the cuff, instinctive stuff and I’m sure I’ll refine my opinions if others chime in (please!).

It’s kind of weird we never get any campfire singalong action in the game when there’s a guitar in Chris’s bedroom and he mentions Kumbaya, but maybe they’re tired of that from camp by the time the plot line picks up.

Miles obviously is a musician and Dylan’s the music guy so I’d imagine he’s musically inclined in some way. I’ve seen headcanons that he plays guitar and I could see that but I lean more toward thinking he would have taken piano lessons when he was younger and moved on to keyboard and adding on techie stuff like the Mellotron and Moog synth. I think he loves dials and buttons and weird sounds and he can sing but he’d rather fuck around in the noise. Any instrument he plays is gonna get a bit sad if he loses his hand but maybe he’d get more into sampling and remixing and looping computer generated beats as a result.

I think it would be funny if Jacob had a surprisingly angelic singing voice that was completely uncoached and no one ever expected out of him, sort of like Finn from Glee (RIP) but less auto-tuned. I think he’d be an acoustic guitar guy for sure just for the romance of it. Anyway, here’s “Wonderwall.”

Actual footage of Jacob serenading Emma, feat Abi.

Kaitlyn does not strike me as particularly musical though I headcanon that she and Jacob slay karaoke together. She just kind of shouts into the mic like a 90s riot grrl and sings Alanis or Joan Jett and kills.

Abi is so high school marching band nerd coded to me and I feel like she’s a total flute/piccolo girlie or else clarinet/oboe. Or maybe she plays violin in the school orchestra. Something sweet. She’s good but too nervous to perform or audition in front of people very much so it’s just a hobby she shares with people she trusts.

Emma I think would have a perfectly nice mid range singing voice that she’d wish was better. She probably started her influencer career recording Taylor Swift covers for YouTube but she’s a much better actress and dancer than she is a singer. Not quite triple threat material but she believes in herself so she’s trying.

Ryan has such a unique voice that I can’t decide if he definitely can sing or if he’s practically tone deaf. I kind of lean toward the latter. I imagine he hates his singing voice and rarely sings even for fun but if Dylan catches him singing or humming he’s like smitten times one million about it. I could see Ryan playing drums though, I’d imagine he has a good sense of rhythm.

Max, on the other hand, cannot carry a tune but sings ALL THE TIME anyway. And Laura cringes but finds it endearing all the same. He probably plays the ukulele. He just seems like the type.

Laura was a choir kid for sure and probably got solos in school plays and Max was accompanying her on ukulele and playing unnamed roles or else he was painting backdrops or something. We know Siobahn can sing and I feel like that would carry through with Laura for sure. I imagine them doing elaborate musical routines together on car rides even with their vastly different musical abilities.

Nick reminds me of a bassist I know who is maybe the weirdest human being alive. So that’s where I see him. He can sing a little but it’s definitely a backing vocals voice. I feel like he’d be in a stoner jam band just fucking around, playing the same song for an hour while both the band and audience are too high to know the difference.

Chris Hackett obviously plays guitar and Travis accompanies him on harmonica. Bobby plays blowing air over the lip of a jug and also cowbell.

I LOVE THIS ASK EVERYONE TELL ME THOUGHTS!

[scary-pixie]

Sometimes I like going for night time walkies through the older (and sketchier) parts of my town, just a short way from where I live.

But lately...I've been walking past the small houses with no lights on, maybe a creepy tree out in front or a stray cat wandering nearby, and imagining that Travis Hackett might live in one of these.

I wonder which one he'd pick!

[hope-to-hell]

No light but ours. Travis Hackett x Reader. Smut, angst, way too many ocean metaphors. Sunday supper at the Hackett house. A sudden rainstorm means spending the night in Travis’ childhood bed. You know where this will end up, don’t you?

This was supposed to be a nice lighthearted romp. What the hell happened?

—-

There’s dust drifting in all the unused rooms and dry rot is about to take the north wing, but these rooms are clean and still, little enclaves in a haunted house. This is a fucking haunted house, Travis.

(It’s bones on the seafloor, whalefall half picked-clean)

Shh. His hand is broad and tastes of salt, of copper, of something sharp. You want someone to hear you? His face says don’t you fuckin do it when he takes his hand away and you’ll be good, won’tcha?

He’s gotta watch the way he moves or it’s gonna be so fucking obvious what’s happening here: more obvious than when Sunday supper came along and brought you with it, more obvious than the way he stood on the porch with just that little sliver of himself out in the open and made his introductions: Ma, this is—

You’re late. Supper’s getting cold.

Rain’s bad and getting worse; no way you’re going back out like this and so it’s upstairs to a narrow bed, to faded wallpaper and a draft that’s got you all a-shiver, pulling his shirttails loose to bleed some of the tension out of him and when he runs a thumb over your lips there’s nothing you can do but have just a little taste.

All of this is the leadup, the preface to the moment when he stills at the sound of the bed creaking like trees shattering in winter: gunshot-loud, sharp, disorienting in its suddenness.

Fuck.

There’s nothing quite so eloquent as a man who’s balls-deep and struggling for words, a man who’s half out of his jeans and breathing openmouthed like he’s listening for footsteps on the landing.

(The worms are coming for you, as they come for us all. When all that’s left of you is bones, they’ll leave you lonely.)

Cmon, move— and he’s so goddamned heavy, weighed down by the ghosts within these walls; shadows crawl across his face in tired smears and if this is the cost of these suppers then perhaps he shouldn’t be here, but he is the dutiful son despite it all.

Will you be quiet?

Yeah. Yeah, just. Yeah. The words catch at his skin and trail in strings between you; they pull tight and tug him down for the barest ghost of a kiss. Cmon. I’ve got you. A promise is a promise and he takes it for what it is beneath the breathless wanting: you don’t have to be alone to be lonely. You know I’m here. It’s still a surprise, still makes his brows crawl up his face while he parses it out and finds himself almost believing it.

(Poor bastard, looking through these vast bones, imagining starlight high above)

When he moves again it’s more crawl than thrust: it’s Travis digging deep with all the slowness he can muster and all the patience that, at first, you didn’t think he had.

(Stolen moments at the station: mimeographs and faxes wrinkling under your ass— Jesus, Travis, did you get this stuff back in dinosaur times? Hey, what about a t-rex sending a fax? Please send meat. Stop. Am hungry. Stop.

That’s telegrams, now zip it— but he can’t quite keep a straight face, not even when he threads a hand beneath your shirt.

Sunrise comes and you’re bringing coffee, breathing clouds into the air while you wait for him on the rooftop. He always ends up here when another full moon has come and gone; seems like he’s forgotten what sleep is, and he’s gonna be a grouch all day but he still says thanks in a voice rimed with sand.)

His ass prickles gooseflesh and damn, you’re bending nails trying to catch at his belt; he’s cold and a little bony and this pace isn’t enough to get you off but it is enough for you to whimper and whine

(Needy little thing, aren’t you? He’s playing mean but it’s not til he gets his hand ‘round the back of your neck that something clicks; he says now you’re gonna give me what I want and maybe you say you don’t get on your knees for anyone but this is Travis and he tastes of sweat and salt and musk; he’s gonna smell himself on you later and raise his brows like what are you gonna do about it)

and he gets a hand between you; his thumb is roughly callused, sending sparks all up your spine when he gets it on you just the way you like. He moves like instinct but it’s muscle memory; each time is the culmination of all the times before: of all the gentle corrections, the wordless grasping of his hand as you move it to where you need it most.

(No light but the glow of a predator’s lure)

Travis bears a tension that never bleeds away; it anchors itself to the lines on his forehead and to the long ache down his spine. What he needs is letting go: mindless, thoughtless animal rutting, sweat and bruises, then dropping down into a long dreamless sleep. He needs a vacation from himself, from the constant turning-inward that tears at him every time he reaches out and finds his hand empty.

When he comes it’s like cracks in the sea floor, a long deep groan that’s bitten back hard enough to leave his mouth bloody. He breathes through the comedown, his face pressed into your shoulder; he is all a-quiver and you can’t quite tell—

You alright?

His yeah is a little fuzzy, but it’s hard to think too much about it when he gets his hand back on you; his lips brush across your skin in a pattern of words that he can’t say aloud, at least not yet. But he’s nosing at your cheek til he can swallow down your panting moaning ah, that’s it, don’t stop or I’ll fucking kill you, fuck, you’re laughing, what I—

oh. And with his breath in your lungs, all the world is shattered glass.

(I miss them, he says with his face tilted toward the ceiling, bottle dangling from his hand. Used to be easy. Wish I could remember what it’s like. I see them but there’s oceans between us.)

It’s a tight fit side-by-side in this narrow bed beneath its cross-and-crown quilt; shadows cut him deep to make his face seem old and unknowable. But the arm draped over your side is warm; his body is a bulwark against the powder-dry chill of the room and with your fingers knotted in his undershirt he isn’t going anywhere.

Wonder if it’s still there.

Hm?

Bought a dirty magazine off a friend once. I was too chickenshit to open it and even more scared to throw it away, so I stuck it under the mattress. Did he still jerk off furtively, ears pricked, thinking about what pictures might be inside? Or did he resolutely think of nothing, forcing his thoughts to wrap around the motion of his hand and nothing else?

The world outside is water, rain murmuring all around like the voices of strangers in another room. He watches you with heavy-lidded eyes, body reaching for sleep even as his mind is turning over and over, thoughts and worries and wordless memories filling up the blank spaces left by orgasm. Maybe you can’t fix his troubles, but you can at least keep him company. Keep me warm against the cold and I’ll stand beside you in the dark. Tomorrow you’ll drink coffee and watch rainwater drip from the trees; morning light will paint him gold and strike the shadows from his face.

(There is life even in the depths: flashes of blue light, signals across the vast and silent dark.)

[tatjana-fantasy]

(Part 5)

Let’s continue my replay of The Quarry :) Some thoughts (Chapter 8 + Chapter 9):

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 6

I can totally understand why Ryan wouldn’t want to kill Chris, who is essentially his father figure. At the same time, I do understand why Laura doesn’t see another option. I still think it’s a little extreme for her to immediately want to kill Chris, but I sadly get where she is coming from ;__;

I actually like Ryan’s and Laura’s dynamic quite a lot! More in a sibling than in a romantic way, though. :)

Okay, let’s talk about the infamous “Maybe neither.” Personally, I always thought that in the context of Laura’s question, it simply meant that Ryan likes neither more (and at least the German version translates it as “I like both”), but even if we assume that he likes neither of them … he doesn’t owe Dylan anything. Just like Emma is completely allowed to say No to Jacob without being harassed over it, Ryan is completely allowed to say No to Dylan without being harassed over it. And I say that as someone who ships them.

Speaking off Dylan, I LOVE the scene where Emma “maces” him XD

STOP LAURA STOP LAURA STOP LAURA (I lost Nick on my first playthrough because I wanted to show my trust in her T__T)

Yay, I freed Jacob :D The puzzle is still soooo confusing though. I’m kinda glad I avoided it on my first playthrough because I can’t imagine I would’ve ever pulled it off!

WTF is up with the music after Laura gets captured?? And how have I never noticed how unintentionally funny it is??

I’m surprised the dialogue between Abigail and Emma in the beginning stays the same even if she’s infected :O

I heard that Constance’s death apparently got censored in some versions of the game, so I’m happy mine isn’t among them :) She and Travis were the only Hacketts that died on my first playthrough …

Not gonna lie, Jed’s death by Laura’s hand is surprisingly brutal!

Bobby is so hilarious, I love him <3 <3 <3

I LOVE the moral dilemma of accepting Laura’s bite. On my first playthrough, I accepted Laura’s bite because I hoped that there would be another way to save Chris, but at the same time, I feared that I made the wrong choice. I really didn't want to kill him :-(

You all already know this, but: HOLY SHIT THE SCRAPYARD SCENE IS SO GOOD. The werewolf, the lights, the music! And afterwards, when Dylan begs Kaitlyn to leave him! While it sucks that he won’t be in the lodge later, this scene almost makes it worth it <3 Oh, and I got the trophy for infecting everyone, so now I just need to save them ;-)

And then, the scene with Abi and Emma. Emma’s words to Abi hurt so much T__T Her “Abi …” at the end sounded like an apology :-(

(Btw, I luckily knew what I had to do and escaped via the ladder, but I think it really sucks that going to the stairs is an automatic death sentence.)

On my first playthrough, I refused to shoot Chris during the Hackett showdown, and Ryan, Laura and Travis died. I was freaking devastated. Ryan’s death in particular left me so heartbroken that I had to stop playing for that day, only to have literal nightmares about how Dylan would react to his death. It certainly left a lasting impression on me … only to pull the rug under my feet when I saw what the actual ending of the game was :-/

I love the Hierophant flashback, but damn, I really wish the game would allow you to pick another card afterwards :-/ I think it’s pretty unfair that simply finding this card already makes it impossible to see another card’s vision …

But anyway, I still enjoyed these chapters despite some problems I have with them. :) See you next time, when I finish my replay of The Quarry!

[sheriff-t-money]

headcanon: 003

The police force.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Academic studies include:

Crisis intervention

Response to individuals with mental health and substance abuse issues

Investigation of domestic abuse

Assisting victims of crime

Preservation of crime scenes

Response and investigation of vehicle collisions and building collapses

Organizing searches for missing individuals

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

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

Tactical studies include:

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

Defensive tactics

Straight baton

Extendable baton

Frisking and cuffing

First aid

CPR

Water safety skills

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[queenofbaws]

Dunno how to do this emoji style but for the writing asks: the purple cyrstal ball, the one about porject bragging, and fav dialogue!

ohohohoooooo! don't mind it i do~ ;Dc

🔮 what are you hoping to write in the coming year?

so, so, sososososososo much like wringing blood from a stone 😭 i am PRAYING i sink back into the groove of that one, because i'm just so EXCITED about the story, and we're so CLOSE to a BUNCH of Big Fun Things that i've had planned for EVER, and aklsjdfklasjdfj i just really want to keep chugging along with that. if i could FINISH it, well...that would just be the cherry on top!!!!!

🪅 brag about any project you want to! tell us why we should be reading it RIGHT NOW!!!

oh lordy lordy......i didn't write it THIS year by ANY stretch of the imagination, but man alive have i been giving the not-quite-midnight society +1 a lot of thought lately!!!!

it's my take on an anthology fic - the blackwood gang sits around, telling each other spooky stories around a campfire all night! ...well. most of the night. see, there are some really weird noises up on the mountain, and there's been at LEAST one raccoon sighting, and...hey, there's no shame in getting creeped out, right? it's all in good fun! it's not like anything BAD ever happens up in the pines!!! :)c

hehehe i've been giving a lotttttttt of thought to a follow-up/sequel fic (or two.....) for this one, and just...IDK i think it's a really, really fun fic, it gave me an excuse to sort of flesh out ALL of the gang's character voices, and hey, i am nothing if not a cheesy horror girlie at heart - getting to write a handful of short horror stories was just TOO much fun!!! :P

💬 what dialogue are you most proud of?

honestly??? there are........roughly a zillion examples i could've yanked out of before the dawn, a bad moon rising, but EVERY TIME i got to write the hackett brothers interacting (and being miserable examples of humanity) felt like taking home the gold alskdjfkalsdjf FOR INSTANCE:

“Fuck Jack,” he heard Travis say, and he had to imagine Caleb and Kaylee were having the time of their lives if they were listening to them carry on over the ham radio back home. They had a drinking game for their hunting chatter, see; if memory served, the catchphrase was good for a full shot. “These two just stumbled through one of his goddamn waystations. Like the creepy hieroglyphics aren’t bad enough, he left a fucking mountain of cigar stubs lying around! So much for keeping a low profile—motherfucker hung sage. Over.” “The Miracle Men don’t like it! Over.” “The Miracle Men. Don’t. Have. Noses. Bobby. Over.” Oh, he was so glad Trav wasn’t being weird about any of this. He was so, so glad. “You don’t need a nose to smell, Trav. Over.” “You...okay, I don’t have time for this bullshit. Over.” “No, you don’t,” Chris sighed, watching as Ms. Leather Jacket took to inspecting one of the totem poles marking the end of the path. She circled around it, hands on her hips, and he heard her murmur something about it being creepy. He kept his eyes on her and Mr. Letterman Jacket as he sank lower into the snow, retaining as much body heat as he could by keeping his extremities close to his torso. “You got a couple of horny kids to chaperone, after all. I’m sure they’re keeping you real busy. Over.”

year in review writing asks!

[lunaticus-platina]

Aight this is the post for the anon(😏) ask.

My fave moment of Travis x my oc Brennen is post-quarry, when the situation settled down and they kept meeting up until they got close. And became 'not boyfriends'(Of course Travis. Yeah.)

Travis was feeling under the weather and Brennen cuddled him. There's a wip of that moment, actually, brewing in my wip pit. To be completed in a decade maybe.

So in the cuddle fic, Travis went to Brennen's place and was feeling cold and his joints ached. Pretty obvious signs of a cold but as always, he had to be stubborn about it, so Brennen just wrapped him on his chest with blankets and didn't get up from the sofa.

Travis had a big frown on his face before he fell asleep. Brennen has great circulation in his body, so he has naturally high body temperature. Good cuddle buddy when you feel weak and miserable.

Oh and Travis sniffed Brennen's shirt while he was trapped in the blanket cocoon, like a weirdo he is. And Brennen didn't mention it because he thought it was cute, like a weirdo he is.

Another moment I like is whenever they throw hands, as strange as that sounds. If there's one thing Bren learned in therapy, it's that you have to express your frustration somehow instead of letting it rot in your mind and cause further troubles later.

And what better way for the great communicator like Travis Hackett to express his anger other than talking things out with his fists.

Since he can't explain how he feels, unlike how other emotionally stable people can, he has to act rather than speak. And that's fine by Brennen. He's quite fluent in fist talks! Also, his provocation game is top-notch.

It's like a morbid foreplay. They grunt and roll around and grab at each other, basically the same thing.(not) And they can make up later.

The way they fight is interesting too. Brennen avoids hitting the face because he 'doesn't want to damage the goods'. Travis is fucking livid but tries to pin Bren down like a cop he is instead of punching him too many times.

It quickly turns into a fight for dominance, but usually the angrier one wins. Namely, Travis. And it feels good to come out on top, so it's a little therapeutic for Travis each time. Bren doesn't mind. That's the whole purpose of starting the fights anyway. Fighting it out and making up later is their love language, I guess.

Oh and it takes a lot for Travis to actually snap, so imagine what kind of things Brennen says to drive him mad. Even while Travis is prowling around in a circle, ready to take him down. Yeah. Insufferable bastard.