#so is jack but hes having trouble keeping quiet during nap times | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

castleamc · 3 years

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Headcanons | Pedro Characters & Trouble Sleeping (1)

pairing: multi-character x gn!reader (see below for which ones)

warnings: 18+, car sex, video chat sex, insomnia, nightmares, food consumption, lmk anything else.

a/n: so who are my insomnia moots?? knasjans ive had it since middle school with a little bit of sleep paralysis, its super lonely but 🤷🏻‍♀️ and so I write at this time, its hard for me to just sleep ive tried melatonin gummies (doesnt do enough), cutting sugar/eating late, sleeping early earlyyy. nothing helps I just stay awake. if yall ever need someone to talk to at 4am lmk, I'll probably be awake. 👉🏻😎👉🏻

Part 2 | Masterlist ⭐️

For Frankie, Javier, Jack Daniels, Ezra, and Dave York unlock below ✨

Frankie Morales 🚁

Frankie's ability to sleep was conditioned in him since the beginning of his training. On a couch? He'll sleep. Camping on the floor? He'll sleep there too. Waiting for your table to be ready at the restaurant? He can SO squeeze in a nap. For him it's easy, however for you not so much. By the time 1am strikes, you get surges of energy and you become restless. Frankie knows its hard for you to sleep, so some nights when you're rolling around in bed frustrated and you're on your phone he'd whisper "Wanna watch a new movie?" He loved sleeping, but he loved you even more. It always warmed your heart that Frankie tried his best to keep you company. He'd rest his head on your shoulder watching the video, laughing along with you. Sometimes he'd snake his hands between your legs telling you to get closer to him tracing circles on your thighs, letting you know he's there. Other days when your mind won't rest, he'll quietly ask you what you're thinking about while letting you rest on his chest as he caresses your spine until it lulls you back to sleep. He tries to stay up with you, but can't. You don't fault him for that, in fact you fall more in love with his determination to try to stay awake. Even if it's just for a few minutes. However on those heavy long nights it's Frankie that has trouble sleeping. He'd have his heavy nightmares varying from all those missions he's been through, and you'll be there. Ready to ease him back to sleep, never keeping your eyes off him. Kissing his temple, brushing back his brown curls as he holds you listening to your heart beat telling him he's safe. It gives you peace of mind watching him rest, ultimately dozing yourself in his embrace.

Javier Peña 🕶

Staying up during stake outs was probably one his favorite times actually for one reason in particular, you. If anyone were to ask him, he'd say he loved the peace and quiet being away from the office, away from the endless paperwork, and those grueling nights chasing down hopeless leads. When really he'd secretly look forward to spending more time with you. You'd plead to go with him clutching his arms, kissing his neck trying to convince him. And how could he resist? You were the one person that would understand the serenity he feels at night. He knows that stake outs are dangerous, so he'd let you come along only when he's positive that it's safe. You both kept a watchful eye at the building in question, asking him what songs he likes, if he thinks pineapples belong on pizza or not, and occasionally annoying him with your favorite game of 'I spy.' But your favorite activity was driving around in his Jeep in search of where to go for a late night meal or snack. It would start with a grumble of annoyance from him, followed by your stomach growling that eventually leads to abandoning the stake out all together to get food and eating it in his car. Trying new foods with him, talking about whatever came to mind was bliss. Javier didn't mind keeping you company at night at home also, he never had someone that he cared for so deeply like you. Anything you needed to help you sleep he was there. Even if it meant asking him to fuck you up to a point where you can't keep your head up or climbing onto his lap during stake outs riding him into exhaustion. He was there for you just like you were there there for him, reminding him that he deserves to be happy. So long as you had one another, staying up wasn't as bad.

Jack Daniels 🐎

When Jack was away overseas you found yourself alone in the house trying to find whatever to do. It was empty without him. Your inability to sleep kept you restless, and missing him so you walked around fiddling with anything you got your hands on and fixing whatever needed to be fixed in the house. When you're out in the barn you'd feed the horses, refill their tanks, and mowed the lawn. But you couldn't do that sometimes cause Jack beat you to it before he'd leave. He hated leaving you behind. Finding whatever he could to stall that inevitable "I'll see you soon". When night time came Jack would text you hoping that you'd be awake to video chat. He'd show you on his laptop the view of his room, ask about your day, you'd ask about his. You'd show him what you made, give him updates on the horses and the other farm animals. When you're really missing him, you'd simply show it. Placing the laptop between your legs touching yourself showing him exactly how much he you need him. Jack longed to be by your side touching you, making you moan his name by his hand. But he knows that's what you need right now, so he goes along touching himself focusing at how beautiful you look. Looking forward to coming back home to you. When you'd relax and drowsiness finally hit, you'd place the laptop on his side of the bed hearing him talk to you about wanting to paint the kitchen walls, maybe build a new birdhouse when he gets back. When you wake up the next day, he'd either still be on video chat saying good morning ready to leave or leaving a trail of kisses on your arm up to your cheeks to wake you up.

Ezra 🌿

After his return from The Green, Ezra's ability to sleep was cut short. It was done purely for survival. He needed to rest, but also staying up on the look out for other prospectors was necessary. It was a routine for so long that he hadn't noticed until he came back to you. On that first night together in his own bed, he woke up late to find you staring at the ceiling deep in your thoughts. He turned to see you not sad or tired, but content. You told him how often you'd stay up unable to sleep missing him during long hours of the day until it trailed to night time. You liked being up to an extent because at least this way you never forgot him and never lost hope. So when sleeping wasn't in store for you. You would listen to new music quietly, research new discoveries to tell Ezra, and maybe even pick up on a new hobby like reading. Ezra would ask you loaded questions about the plot, always invested in character motives. To keep each other's company at night, you'd both head to the beach collecting seashells, iridescent rocks and at times rare flowers. Together, you had infinite amounts of rare finds marking down its species, class, where it was located. This was a habit of Ezra you found to be hard for him to overcome, so you helped him. The same way he helped you find the ability to sleep when you're exhausted and crying wishing you could rest. He would distract you the best way he knew how, by talking for hours. This helped you because you found more and more topics to catch up on. He'd mention what food he missed eating, and you'd tell him what new movies came out that he might like. At last, you'd doze off on his chest leaving behind any traces of sleep deprivation.

Dave York 🧳

Dave was trained to be awake when needed and to be asleep when needed. It wasn't difficult for him, it was like flipping a switch. Clockwork. That goes with saying, he could sleep easily when he had to, but sometimes it was hard. He did have a few nights where he'd wake up in sweats panicking in his hotel room at loss of your body not by his side. It'd take him a minute to realize he's not home with you and the girls. He wasn't use to having someone like you accept his line of work, fear instilling in him at the thought of ever losing something so good like you. So when he'd wake in panic, he'd instantly miss you and call you. You'd miss him too. He knows how hard it is for you go to sleep. Those days he'd leave for weeks on end he would leave tea out in the kitchen for you with a pot ready to boil with a note saying "Try to rest, love you." You'd drink the tea to relax, but it was damn near impossible. Often you would go over paperwork, check the girl's homework, and catch up on your favorite tv show. When Dave would come home and catch you awake though, he'd feel guilty at how easy it was for him. You're so use to it by now that you accepted it, but it pained him to see the tired look in your eyes as you find a way to help you sleep. So instead of leaving you to go to bed, he spoke to you about his latest mission to which you'd perk up. Ask you what you think he did next, what the person he chased did, and what you would've done if you were him. It always managed to make you relax and eventually doze off just enough for him to carry you up the stairs to bed.

»»»»»»»❀«««««««

I hope you enjoyed this little headcanon I had in my head for a hot minute for a few of the Pedro boys. I might do the others another time when im awake this late. If you do read this late late, I hope you're able to find some sleep love! I know its hard to shake off that dreading feeling. Sleeping is nice, I hope youre able to rest. And you're not alone. 💜

no tagging just cause its a little headcanon, not really a fic.

sis if I was mantis, I'd be sleeping all the time.

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rhymingtree · 3 years

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Ghosts in Westview

Chapter 7 || The Calm Before the Storm

word count: 6.6k

summary: In the span of a day, Bucky's world goes from bright and happy, to crumbling at his feet.

warnings: a lil bit of cursing, some sadness, and a jack russell terrier

New Eden, 9:03 am

She was already out the door when Bucky whispered, “I love you.”

He sighed as he heard the car engine rumble as they made their way out of town. The quietness of the house was sudden and unsettling. Bucky finds it strange that whenever she leaves, part of what makes the house come alive and feel completely like home leaves with her. It’s an inexplicable kind of longing.

All he wanted this day to be was as peaceful as possible, spent in the warmth of their home as the leaves fell from the trees in preparation for winter, and for his departure. He only wanted to be with her. Making sandwiches, cuddling on the couch watching those Hobbit films he missed out on, maybe visiting Amma and helping her out with the store.

He knew though, the minute Wanda showed up at the doorstep, looking troubled and shaking like a lost puppy, (F/N) wouldn’t think twice to help her out. She was like that, helpful in possibly the worst way. To the point where she would throw safety and logic out of the window to make sure someone is okay.

She did that for him, despite the risks of taking him in. Despite almost getting killed because of him, she helped him. She was kind. And her kindness could get her killed.

Bucky trusts her though. She’d be home in no time, and they’d go back to spending the one week they have left before he goes to New York in peace. And if she ever needs anything, she would call him. If he needs her, he’d do the same.

Maybe he could spend the rest of the day in peace. He could go see how Amma was doing. The quietness of the house made it tempting to bundle up in a blanket on the couch for a nap, but it was only 9 am, and he still couldn’t trust his sleep to be peaceful. His nightmares were worse when (F/N) wasn’t with him.

Bucky had just grabbed the remote and was about to melt into the couch when he heard another knock on the door. He stood back up with an annoyed groan.

“(F/N)? Bucky?” It was Amma. “You two home?”

He swung the door open, smiling softly at her. “Good morning, Amma.”

“Hiya, honey.” She pulled him into a warm hug, her jewelry jingling with every move. In her hand was a basket full of plums. Her hair was in its usual braid, placed on her shoulder. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course.” He moved to the side as she walked in, shrugging her coat off.

“I came by to drop you a farewell gift,” She winked at him, dropping the plums on the kitchen counter. “So, where’d (F/N) run off to? It’s a bit early to be going out on adventures, don’t you think?”

“I tried telling her that, but you know how she is,” he shrugged, his eyes downcast. “She’s unstoppable… won’t tell me anything.”

Amma chuckled, not surprised in the least. “Must have been important if she’s hidin’ it.”

Bucky couldn’t stop the worry coming back to his head. He frowned, making Amma narrow her eyes. “She went out of town,” Amma tilted her head. “To help a friend.”

Amma shook her head, not surprised. Her eyes looked sad. “That girl tries to help everyone but herself…” She sighed, reaching over to rub Bucky’s shoulder. “But she’ll be back soon, won’t she?” Her question made Bucky look up at her. “No fights this time?”

“With (F/N)?” They both laughed. “You can never be sure.”

“Well, she better be. With you going away so soon, the two of you need to spend as much time as possible.” She crossed her arms, quickly adding, “Are you sure you don’t want her to come, sweet-tart? I don’t like the idea of either of you dealing with anything alone.”

“I don’t think she’d like me during the ‘recovery process’ or whatever therapy is.”

“But you’d like her to be there?”

He shook his head, “I wanna stay here.”

Amma clicked her tongue, and held him in a tight hug. “You and (F/N)... all you both need is a break, huh?”

Bucky sighed, keeping the tears at bay. (F/N) needed a break more than anyone. Five years all alone, letting time fly by in a small town that was essentially empty; and then another big fight that brought back half the universe, but took away the few she called friends.

And even then she goes out of her way to help someone in need.

Amma smiled at him, softly taking a strand of his hair away from his face like a mother would her child. The small motion brought him out of his thoughts. “You should get a haircut.” She walked away from the counter, grabbing her jacket.

“(F/N) says she likes it.” He said, almost defeated. “She was probably being nice?”

“I doubt she’d lie about that… But either way, it would be a new look, right?”

He walked over to her and opened the door, a small smile on his face. “Thanks for the plums, Amma.”

“Anytime, Sweet pea.” She stepped out the door, and threw him another cheeky look. He was about to close the door, when Amma called out to him again. “You know what, I need to ask you a favor.”

“Sure.” He leaned on the open door.

“I need to go pay Hank a visit, he owes me some cash.”

“You want me to come with you?”

“If you can scare him into payin’ up, sure.”

He ran back into the house, quickly grabbing his own jacket and running back out to Amma, who was chuckling as his heavy footsteps echoed out to her.

As he locked the door quickly, she raised a brow. “I thought you didn’t need the jacket?”

“I like it, though.” He put his hands in his pockets, Amma shook her head at him. They walked away from the house, Bucky asking if she’d like certain tactics on getting Hank to pay his dues. It looks like his day won’t be as monotonous after all.

On the kitchen counter, where he’d left the basket of plums, sat his little flip phone, forgotten.

---

Amarilla’s General Store, New Eden 10:57 am

Bucky was sitting on Amma’s couch as she moved around in the store. After their little, perfectly civil, definitely hadn’t verged on threatening conversation with Hank, Amma invited him over for lunch.

“Why wouldn’t you let me talk to Hank a bit more, Amma?” He said through his laugh. He couldn’t get the look on his face out of his head. Bucky didn’t exactly enjoy it when he scared people, but the way Hank froze at the sight of him behind Amma was priceless. “He owes you a lot more than a hundred, doesn’t he?”

Amma was laughing too, making it difficult for her to get the burger patties on the plate. “Hey now, a man’s gotta eat.” She calmed her laughter down, “And I’m not letting you anywhere near him again, he was about to shit his pants.”

Bucky’s smile widened. “Wouldn’t that be a sight?”

“It’s a sight that’s hardly appetizing.” Amma put the plates on the table, calling him over with a tap on the shoulder. “Now come on, dig in.”

Amma put down a beer bottle by Bucky’s plate, making him look up at her with confusion. She gave him a cheeky grin. “Don’t give me that look, it’s not gonna do anything to you anyway.”

Amma kept piling more and more onto his plate, and he accepted heartily, taking a swig of the beer after a few bites. She was a great cook, and (F/N) had learned how to cook from her, no wonder they have the same flair with flavor. It made him miss her more, even though she’d only been away for a few hours.

He was about to reach into his pocket to look for his phone, when someone barged into Amma’s shop, almost barreling towards them. Amma jumped, frowning at whoever ruined the serenity of their lunch.

One of the Roper Twins, Bronco Roper, heaving for breath and sweating bullets, his eyes looking up at them nervously. “I need your help.”

“If it’s one of you two, I’m already saying no.” Bucky said through a bite of food. He didn’t want to get himself into any kind of trouble today. (F/N) is enough trouble already. She leaves for one minute and another of the Many Menaces of New Eden shows up.

“I need someone to dogsit… just for the day… possibly longer.” He said, still panting. Amma laughed, making him frown. “C’mon, Ma’am. I'm serious.”

“Let me guess, the dog’s name is ‘Moonshine’, huh?”

“Very funny.” He said dryly, finally standing up straight. Bucky chuckled at his panic. “My wife’s not gonna be happy to see him.”

Bucky stood up, taking their plates with him. He ignored Bronco’s long and elaborate explanation of how he found the Jack Russell Terrier one night, and couldn’t refuse his adorable puppy dog eyes and took him in, without his wife knowing.

Amma chuckled, looking up at Bucky as he walked to the sink. “How about you, sweet pea? You think we should give them a hand, hiding their little Moonshine?”

“Sorry, Bronco. The government’s already coming to haul my ass to New York. I don’t want them finding illegal goods on my person.”

“He’s not- it’s a real dog!” Bronco yelled, followed by a mumbled, “And a cute one, too.”

Amma laughed, she found this whole situation very amusing. Bucky gave Bronco a look, inspecting him with a little smirk.

“Sarge, you’re his only hope,” he pleaded. He looked like he was about to drop to his knees. “God only knows what she's goin’ to do to me if she finds the pup.”

He sighed, giving in. “Alright, where’s the dog?”

Bronco almost jumped with joy. “He’s hiding in the barn.”

Amma tilted her head in wonder. “Why would your wife be so mad at a little dog?”

“We own three dogs already.” He said, “And a cat, she also owns a cat.”

“Just take me to the dog, will you?” Bucky groaned, putting his jacket back on.

“Yes, sir.”

“He’s just in the barn, right?”

“Yeah, of course he is.”

---

“Where the hell is the dog?”

“I swear I left him right here!”

The two of them were staring at the empty barn, with no dog in sight. Bucky couldn’t help groaning, regretting his decision to come out and help with his dog. Well, this was turning into a fun day already.

“Guess we have to look for him, then?” Bucky shrugged, sighing in frustration.

“He could have run to any part of town by now.”

Bucky looked between the both of them, “What’s his name again?”

“Um…” He glanced at Bucky nervously. “I haven’t given him a name yet, Sarge.”

“Shit.” He pinched his nose, wishing he could retract his acceptance to help. “This is gonna be a long day.”

---

2:48 pm

Looking for the Terrier took them both almost the whole day. They walked through all of town, calling to the dog despite not having a proper name for him. They were about to give up when they found the puppy with Amma, sitting on the porch with her as she laughed at them.

Bucky sighed, laughing softly at Bronco. “He was already headed our way, wasn’t he?”

“He’s a troublemaker already.”

Amma carried the dog carefully, bringing with her a collar. “Here’s your little puppy.”

He barked in Amma’s arms as she slowly gave him over to Bucky. He had big, bright eyes and soft white fur, speckled with brown spots around his beaming eyes. Looking at the puppy, Bucky smiled. It’s easy to see why Bronco couldn’t say no to him.

The puppy barked excitedly at Bucky, licking his vibranium hand in greeting.

Bucky looked over at Bronco, who had his hands resting on the buckle of his belt. “He likes you.”

Amma snorted, “Unfortunately, it looks like Bucky likes him too.” She petted the dog gently, laughing as he softly nibbled on her hand. “So, you keeping him?”

Bucky held him close to his chest. He’s fallen in love with the damn dog. “...Yeah, I’m keeping him.”

Bronco chuckled and patted him on the back. “Thanks for taking him off my hands, you’d take better care of him than I could.”

As Bronco left, Amma invited him back inside the store so she could hand him a supply of dog food. “You know, I always took you for a cat person. Considering you’re so quiet, so cat-like,” she winked at his perturbed expression. “And with your hunter instincts…”

Bucky shook his head, letting the puppy play with his hand on the floor. “I can’t just say no to this one, look at him.”

“What are you gonna name him? This whole time you’ve been looking around town calling out for a random dog.”

He looked at the puppy, zooming around the store, almost knocking things over as he chased down a ball he noticed. “You called him Moonshine earlier today.”

“Oh, don’t call him that!”

“It’s catchy!”

Moonshine bound back up to Bucky, trying to leap onto the couch. He carried him up and let him sit on his lap, smiling softly at his new friend.

Amma walked over to them, handing him a bag of dog food and supplies. “You’ve got everything you should need in there, dog bowls, some chewy toys, and a couple of treats.”

“Thanks, Amma.”

Moonshine barked up at them, pawing at Bucky’s leg and wagging his little tail.. “Your welcome, Moonshine.”

Bucky’s smile faltered as he watched the puppy jump off his lap and onto the couch, bounding around as if he'd never run out of energy. He tried to cheer himself up as quickly as he could, but Amma’s eyes were too sharp.

She put a hand on his shoulder, “What’s on your mind, honey?”

He sighed. It took him a moment to get his words out. “I guess I’m just glad I found someone to keep (F/N) company when I go.”

“She’s gonna love him.” They smiled as he ran circles round the floor. “He’d take up all her time, maybe even her patience.”

“Or… she’ll throw me out for bringing a dog home without asking her,” He jumped up as he remembered. “Shit, that reminds me...” He felt around his pockets looking for his phone.

“Did you forget your phone, Bucky?” Amma chuckled.

“....Yep.” He stood up, chasing Moonshine around the store for a minute to scoop him up. “We should be heading home, I gotta tell her about our new buddy.”

Amma opened the door for them, giving Moonshine a scratch under his chin and waving them goodbye. Bucky tried to get them home without Moonshine jumping out of his grasp and running off. To keep him warm, he decided to let him sit inside his jacket, zipped only halfway so Moonshine could see where they’re going.

---

When they finally got home, he let Moonshine explore the large expanse of land, letting him do his business before bringing him inside the house. He put down the bag of dog supplies by the door and ran to the counter, where he left his phone. Only then did he notice how long he’d been out of the house, and how much time has passed since (F/N) left town with Wanda this morning.

He cursed under his breath when he flipped open his phone, noting the time. Shit. 3:28. She said she’d be back soon, and it’s been six hours since she left. Even worse, he forgot his phone when he left the house this morning, and he missed three calls from her since noon.

Panicking, he called her again, ignoring Moonshine barking at him from the living room. “Pick up, pick up, pick up… please.”

The phone rang about four times, when suddenly it stopped completely. Confused, he looked at his phone as it flashed (F/N)’s number but not her name.

He tried calling again, the ringing answered by the automated voice, telling him, “The number you dialed does not exist. Please check the number or dial directory services.”

“What the fuck?” He looked at his phone, confused, his panic growing by the second. Hopefully, (F/N) was right about not getting a smartphone, and his phone was just acting up. He silently prayed that this didn’t mean she was hurt.

He ran a hand down his face, making Moonshine tilt his head in wonder. He took a ball from the bag and threw it in Moonshine’s direction, letting it roll away for him to chase and throw as he pleased. He tried his phone again, his heart pounded louder through his chest when he received the same automated message. “The number you dialed does not exist.”

Moonshine ran to him and pawed at his leg. Bucky looked down, not knowing what to do. He took a deep breath, and got his food bowl ready. Something was wrong, and Moonshine could feel it. He whimpered as Bucky poured out his food.

“Sorry, Moonie,” he said softly as Moonshine went straight to the food bowl but not touching it. He just looked up at his owner with wide questioning eyes. “I gotta make sure your Mom’s okay, which means you get to have this whole place to yourself for a bit.”

He stood up, letting Moonshine dig into his food. He held onto his phone tighter as he opened the door, turning back to the puppy before leaving to remind him, “Don’t make any trouble.” To which Moonshine simply barked once.

He took a second to wonder if he meant yes or no, but shook it away to rush out the door. Walking back to Amma’s store, he tried calling (F/N)’s number one last time, to his dismay, the same monotone voice answered him.

Her number doesn’t exist.

Did she turn off her phone? She packed a charger, so it couldn’t have been that. And she never turns her phone off unless it’s an absolute emergency. But she’d let her know if it had come to that, right?

3 missed calls…

He sprinted to the General Store, panic running through his veins. In his rush, he didn’t realize someone was on their way out of the store, and he bumped against them with his shoulder. Thankfully, he hit them with his right, not his left.

“Sorry-” He apologized quickly, not realizing he'd bumped into Duke.

The redhead put his hands up, a puzzled look on his face. “Hey, soldier, it’s alright.” Bucky looked up at him in relief, letting out a deep breath. He didn’t mirror Duke’s warm smile, which confused him even more. “Everything okay, Bucky?”

“Can you call (F/N)?”

Duke furrowed his brows in concern. “I thought she was with you.”

“She left town this morning to help a friend.” Duke put a hand on his back, leading him indoors from the store to let him sit. He was starting to hyperventilate. “She isn’t answering her phone… she’s been gone for hours, and…”

Bucky was rambling and stuttering now, the fear taking over. Duke tried to get him to calm down, calling Amma over to help. “Try and look after him, Amma.”

“Why? What’s going on?” She looked at Bucky, trembling on the couch. He had gone pale, and the sight worried her. “Is something wrong?”

“I have to call (F/N), just give me a minute.”

Duke walked outside, sweat beading. Usually, when (F/N) turns her phone off it’s not a good sign. If she has, then what happened?

He dialed her number, and was shocked when instead of ringing, he heard the same monotone voice that made Bucky spiral: “The number you dialed does not exist.”

Shit.

There goes the theory of flip phone failure.

Amma tried to call her from the payphone, receiving the same message.

“What the hell could that mean?” She asked Duke, exasperated. “How does her number suddenly disappear from the system?”

If they can’t call her, how the hell were they supposed to find her? They had no idea where she was or what she was doing. They had no idea if she was okay.

---

Bucky wanted to berate her right now, tell her never to keep secrets from him again. That if she ever left the house, he’d have to go with her. He was beyond worried right now. What was she planning to tell him those three times she called him?

Could it have been a call for help?

A goodbye?

No. God no.

He closed his eyes, pushing away any possible answers to the question running through his head. He can’t think of anything good right now. He kept his eye on the window, counting the cars driving past and waiting for her Pontiac to drive by, with (F/N) grinning at him in the driver’s seat.

It’s getting dark.

Duke had been trying to reach her all afternoon. When midnight came and she still hadn’t come home or alerted them of her location, he gave up on trying to get to (F/N) and decided to call for help.

And he knows that ‘help’ is going to kick his ass for calling her, when she specifically said not to.

---

“What do you mean, Ghost is missing?” Boone hissed through the phone. It made Duke wince. He knew this was a good enough emergency to call her back to work, but considering the circumstances, this wasn’t just work. It wasn’t just their boss that had somehow vanished, it was their best friend.

“I mean… (F/N) is missing,” he closed his eyes, fighting back the tears that the day had brought him. “She left town this morning. No one has heard from her since she left, and that was fifteen hours ago.”

“Was she alone when she left?”

“No, Wanda Maximoff was with her.”

He heard Boone sigh. Her panic was mounting too, he could tell. “When you say no one’s heard from her…”

“Every single time we’ve tried calling her phone since this afternoon, it says her number doesn’t exist. Which means somehow…”

“She went off the grid. Or something made her go off the grid.”

“What could that mean? Someone tampered with her phone?” Duke leaned back, trying to focus on anything but his worry.

The other line was silent. “Did she try to call anyone before she went quiet?”

“Barnes. Tried calling three times. He forgot his phone at home while running errands, missed all three.”

“Goddamnit, Barnes.” He heard shuffling from the other line, hushed voices, and then the quiet closing of a door. He heard her walking quickly, her footsteps loudly crunching gravel and dirt. “I’ll call the Senator. Keep Barnes around, will you?”

“I’ll keep him company.” Duke sighed, looking back at the house. “Keep us posted, Boone.”

“See you later.” Duke hung up his phone. He swiped to his phone history, groaning at the twelve attempts he made to call her. All twelve times he got the same message: She does not exist.

“Where the hell could you have gone, you little shit?” He whispered, only noticing he had started to cry when he wiped a fallen teardrop off the screen.

He walked back inside, finding Bucky and Moonshine sitting on the couch. Bucky was barely holding himself together. Duke knew he was blaming himself. Those three missed calls could have been important. And his carelessness prevented him from hearing what could have been a call for help.

He sat down beside him, petting Moonshine, whose energy somehow depleted as the tension in the house grew.

Bucky looked at Duke, his eyes watery. “Any luck?”

Duke shook his head. They both looked down. “Boone’s getting help, though. She’ll know how to find her.” He offered the other man a small smile, “She always knows how to find anything.”

---

In the darkness of the night, Bucky, Boone, Duke and Turner sat in the kitchen of (F/N)’s house, wracking their heads together to find a way to locate (F/N) and Wanda. They’ve been fruitless, no matter what Boone tried to do.

Boone’s face was illuminated by her computer screen, her furious typing accompanied the tense silence as she scanned any highway footage and CCTV recordings from the day they left town. These were their only leads, and almost every single one was a dead end.

They made sure Ghost had no physical records, and digital records were scarce. That assurance is now something they wholeheartedly regret. Ghost’s untraceability has rendered (F/N) (L/N) practically nonexistent on most important records. The only proof she existed at this point was her SHIELD records, still somewhat preserved after its fall, and whatever they have of her, not as colleagues, but as friends.

Bucky made sure never to lose the one thing that kept him calm all the years he spent without her, in Europe, and in Wakanda: the picture of her in Europe. Dark blue dress, braided hair, the familiar troublemaking glint in her eye.

She exists. If not in this world, then in his.

“Phantom Protocol was activated two hours ago, a full twenty-four hours since someone had last seen her.” Turner explained, turning to Bucky’s confused expression. “The Phantom Protocol is activated when an agent goes missing when they’re not on a mission. It puts everyone on high alert. The main priority of every field agent now is looking for that agent, unless stated otherwise.

“If the Agent is found, everything goes back to normal. If the Agent is found dead…” He trailed off, ignoring the way everyone froze or glared at him. “Well, that’s never happened, not yet.”

“It won’t.” Boone said stiffly, not taking her eyes off the screen. “Not with Ghost.” She sighed, raking a hand through her wavy jet black hair.

“What happens now?” Bucky asked.

Turner looked around. “Every agent we have available around the world is looking for Ghost. They’ll report back on anything they find. If we still can’t find her, then we resume normal procedure in a month.”

“That’s our only window?” Duke frowned.

“It’s more than enough time for Ghost. I have a feeling that if we don’t find her first, she’ll come back sooner or later.” He allowed himself a small, fleeting smirk, “That’s what she’s known for…”

“And Wanda Maximoff?” Boone asked with a raised brow.

“Everyone looking for Ghost is looking for Maximoff, but our own operatives are Aftermath’s priority.” Turner leaned back on his wheelchair, looking at both Duke and Boone. “The FBI won’t be part of the investigation, not significantly, but I have told them to keep eyes and ears open. If they find anything, you’ll be on it as soon as possible.”

Suddenly, Boone gasped, taking everyone’s attention. “It looks like we have a lead...” She said, eyes widening as she stared at the screen. She turned the laptop around so everyone could see. She managed to hack into SWORD Headquarters, stumbling onto their security footage. “That’s from this morning.”

All she could get were still frames of the lobby and front desk, but it was clear to see: (F/N) and Wanda went to SWORD that day. Whatever they came for was urgent, Wanda’s glare into the camera made that clear. Standing right beside her, was (F/N).

Bucky could have leaped with joy seeing her on the screen. “So that’s in…”

“Florida.” Boone answered. “What the hell were they thinking, going down to Florida?”

“Boone, you’re a wiz.” Bucky shook his head, amazed at her quick thinking.

She wanted to say something cheeky, but today had been a heavy enough weight that she could hardly smile. All she could give him was a shrug.

Turner nodded, “Good find, Agent Cavanaugh.” He took a moment to think. Could SWORD have something to do with (F/N)’s disappearance?

“They went there that morning, but the last time anyone was contacted by (F/N) was hours after they came there.” Bucky said. “Besides, if SWORD was a problem she wouldn’t call me. She’d call you, right?”

Boone frowned. “What were they even doing there?” It took her a moment to realize, “The Vision is in SWORD custody. Wanda…”

“Wanda asked her to help her find Vision’s body.” Turner added. “But that doesn’t tell us why they’ve both vanished.”

The table went silent. They’ve hit a dead end. Again. Turner’s mind was racing. If SWORD is somehow involved, there’s not a person there he could trust… except for one. Although, he can’t be too sure.

Bucky leaned away from his seat, making Turner’s attention go back to him. “How can I help?”

Turner looked back at him, apprehensive. “Sergeant Barnes, we can’t allow you to be involved.”

His brows furrowed, he felt his worry turn into anger. “Wait, what?”

“You’re barred from working with Aftermath on this one, I’m sorry-”

“What do you mean? I have to help, this is (F/N)!” He looked around the table in disbelief. “She’s missing because I let her leave… I have to be there when she’s found.”

Turner put a hand up to calm him down. “Sergeant, you’re not allowed to work on this investigation-”

“No, come on…” He interrupted, but Turner didn’t relent.

“Because you’re scheduled to leave for New York tomorrow.”

Bucky was silenced, his mouth hung open. Duke swallowed the lump in his throat. “There’s been a change of plans, Buck.” He hardened his tone when Bucky’s anger was focused on him. “You need to stay out of this.”

“...Why?”

Boone shook her head, not wanting to say it either. She took a deep breath, “Your relationship with (F/N) might impede the investigation. It’s better if you let us handle this.” Her sudden serious tone added to Bucky’s anger. She never talked like that, ever. With a blink, she straightened. “She’d want you to be safe.”

He took a deep breath, doing his best to stay calm and reason with them, failing quite quickly. “Our relationship? You’re all her friends, her family. How is my relationship with her any different?” He licked his lips as seeds of doubt were all of a sudden planted into his mind. “It’s not just about that isn’t it?”

They thought he couldn’t do it.

They thought he was still too unstable for this. The way they looked at him told him everything he needed to know.

They're still scared of him. Scared of what he might do if he gets too upset. That’s why they’re pushing on getting him therapy, on getting him out of New Eden, far away from any efforts to find (F/N). “Bucky.” The sound of his name from Turner rendered him silent, but his eyes never lost their fire. “We need everyone focused and calm for this operation.”

He looked to Boone, and turned his eyes back to Turner in disbelief. “You think everyone here’s gonna be able to stay calm? This is (F/N) we’re talking about! How can anybody stay calm?”

Bucky ignored the screeching of Duke’s chair as he stood up, and Boone’s hand on his shoulder trying to push him back down his seat. He couldn’t even hear Moonshine barking loudly from the living room. All he could hear was how loudly his heart was beating on his chest, how fast it was going, like it had been all day. “(F/N) is missing. We can’t find her because of me! She called me, and I wasn’t there.” He leaned into Turner’s face, his voice trembled with rage, his throat was tight as everything he’d been feeling and thinking all day rose to the surface. “This was my fault. I have to be here, I have to look for her too. AT THE VERY LEAST JOHNSON, LET ME BE HERE!”

He panted, only realizing he’d been shouting when Turner stared at him, resolute. The room went quiet. Turner’s unwavering eyes reflected back to him the anger in his own.

“Sergeant Barnes, you’ll be going to New York first thing tomorrow.” Bucky leaned back into his seat, his seething eyes turned down. He bit his lip to keep himself from bursting again. “Trust me, when we find her, you’ll be the first to know. Now if I were you, I’d start packing.”

Boone sighed, catching Bucky’s attention. “I’m sorry, Barnes. This’ll only be harder for you if you fight us on this.”

Bucky refused to let them see him break. He marched off without another word, walking upstairs to their room.

They let out their held breaths when they heard him slam the door.

“Told you that was a bad idea.” Duke said, frowning. “I know that meltdown was enough proof, but how could you two be so sure he can’t help?”

“If I’m being honest, I’m really not that sure.” Boone closed her eyes and rested her head on the table. Her mumbles were muffled, “Where the fuck is (F/N) when you need her?”

Turner looked at them both, just as exhausted, just as scared. “(F/N) wouldn’t want him getting involved. She wouldn’t want him getting too worried, or caught up in another fight.”

Duke couldn’t help rolling his eyes. “But Bucky’s right. If it’s (F/N) that’s in trouble, then he’s already involved. He’s already probably the most worried person here, and he already tried to fight you.” He reasoned, “And making him leave like that?”

“Technically that wasn’t my fault. It’s the government’s. His early trip to New York wasn’t part of the plan, he was supposed to stay here for the rest of the month.” He clicked his tongue in frustration. “They want him out of New Eden for some reason, those assholes…”

“You work for the government.”

“It’s my day off, my friend is missing.”

Duke looked at Boone, puzzled. “You’re awfully quiet, aren’t you?”

She lifted her head up with a small groan. “I hate myself for doin’ that.”

Duke almost scoffed, “Doing what?”

She tilted her head to the door where Bucky had stomped away, a frown gracing her features. “Breaking his heart.”

---

Bucky didn’t sleep at all that night. Moonshine kept him company when he looked at her picture, illuminating her youthful smile with the warm light of the lamp. He wanted this whole day to have been one really lucid bad dream. He wanted to snap himself out of it and wake up next to her asleep and happy right next to him.

But she wasn’t there.

All he had of her was a picture of who she used to be years ago, like he did all those years ago. It’s always like that when they’re apart. All he has is one moment in time where she was smiling back at him.

In the middle of the night, he stood up from the bed to walk around the house he’s called home. This could be the last time in a long time he’ll be here. And it breaks him that she isn’t here when he roams it.

He stood in each room of the house for a few minutes, taking note of almost each speck of dust on every surface. He wants to go back to this place in his head, his only true place of solace. He tried to remember her laugh, and how it would sound in the kitchen, in the shed, in the hallways. He tried to make her joy bounce off the walls wherever he could.

Moonshine followed Bucky around as he walked slowly around the house, his soft pitter-patter rhythmic with the loud thrum of fear in his ears.

He stayed in the living room till the sun rose up and shone onto his tired face. He tried to remember what (F/N) looked like, splayed on the couch or just walking around. It was almost like he was summoning an apparition of her. He imagined her warmth wrapped around him, her lips on the back of his neck curved into a smile, her hands on his chest, counting each beat of his heart.

For a split second, he thought she was still there. Holding him close. It was a lie that his mind gave him, but it brought him a moment of joy.

---

Amma looked like she was on the verge of tears as Bucky handed Moonie into her arms. Duke looked on from where he stood by the car. He hated himself for letting last night go the way he did, and he wanted to apologize. He just didn’t know how.

Bucky was devastated. He wasn’t just being benched, he wasn’t even part of the team. The woman he loved was nowhere to be found, he’s legally barred from actually looking for her, and he’s being kicked out of the only place he’s called home in years.

“I’ll take good care of him, Sweetheart. I promise.” Amma held Moonie close, who sank into her warm embrace quietly. The dog seemed just as heartbroken as his owner. “But if he takes a dump on my couch, I’ll lug him over to you myself.”

He let himself smile at her, “I’ll see you again soon, I hope.” He wrapped them both in a hug, memorizing the feeling of having someone who cared for him.

He can’t even say goodbye to (F/N). All he has of her is the little torn and wrinkled picture, still in his notebook, hidden beneath his memories, good and bad. She’s his home, and she’s nowhere to be found.

“I won’t ever let you feel alone again.”

“You have nothing to worry about, Sarge. I’ll be back soon.”

He’s still holding her to that. No matter where he goes, no matter how long they’ll be away from each other, he will always hold on to that. She promised.

Amma left his hold, looking up at him with her hand cupping his face. “Be good to yourself, Bucky.”

He nodded, giving her a soft smile like she always gave him. He gave Moonie one last pet, and took his bags, walking to the car.

Duke opened the door for him, not meeting his eye. He sat in the passenger seat, folding his hands on his lap. Duke leaned down, offering him his own strained smile as they finally made eye contact.

“I’m sorry about last night.”

Bucky returned the smile, guilt creeping up. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that. None of you deserved it.”

Duke looked like he had more to say, but couldn’t say it. He decided to say something to end the awkward conversation. “Just tell me when you find her.”

Duke nodded. “I’ll tell you when we need your help.” Duke looked at him with promise in his eyes. “Trust me, we will be.” Bucky shuffled, but before he could say anything Duke broke the silence. “Just hang tight.”

“Alright.”

He stood back up, hitting the roof of the car, letting the driver know they’re good to go. “Stay safe, Barnes.”

“You too, Dugan.”

He didn’t roll the window up just yet as they drove away from the street. He let his eyes linger on each part of the town he calls home, of the people who welcomed him in. He tried to commit each house, each tree, each blade of grass to memory.

Bucky took one last deep breath of New Eden’s cool autumn air as the sun rose from the horizon, as he finally said goodbye to his home.

tagged: @darke15 | @violetvictoriabarnes | @kippykasey | @turtleedovee <3

#ghosts in westview #aftermath abridged #ch. 7 || the calm before the storm #this one was a rollercoaster #one second im all wholesome #the next i've torn your heart out of your chest and stomped on it

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lochtayboatsong · 3 years

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The Jesus Christ Superstar essay absolutely no one asked for.

Last weekend, I watched the pro-shot of the 2012 arena tour of Jesus Christ Superstar starring Ben Forster, Tim Minchin, and Melanie C, because it was Easter and it was up on YT for the weekend. I never managed to do my annual listen-through of Leonard Bernstein’s Mass this year, as is my usual Easter tradition, so I figured “Why not watch/listen to this instead?” It was my first time seeing and hearing JCS in full, and Y’ALL, it has been living rent-free in my brain ever since. I have a mighty need to get my thoughts out, so here they are, in chronological order by song.

1) Prologue: I love the way JCS 2012 makes use of the arena video screen. The production design and concept clearly took a lot of inspiration from the “Occupy ______” movement, which makes it feel a bit dated now. But every single production of JCS is a product of its time period, so this is a feature and not a bug.

2) Heaven On Their Minds: This is a straight-up rock song. It wouldn’t be out of place on any rock and roll album released between 1970 and 2021, and it boggles my mind that Webber and Rice were both in their early twenties when they wrote it. Also, the lyric “You’ve begun to matter more than the things you say” hits hard no matter the year.

3) What’s the Buzz: A+ use of the arena screens again, this time bringing in social media to set the tone. Also, this song establishes right from the outset that Jesus is burnt out and T I R E D by this point in the story. Seriously, can we just let this man have a nap?

4) Strange Thing Mystifying: Judas publicly calls out Mary and Jesus claps back. Folx, get you a partner who will defend your honor the way Jesus defends MM in this scene. Also Jesus loses his shoes and is mostly barefoot for the remainder of the show.

5) Everything’s Alright: Okay, this is one of the songs I have A LOT to say about. First, it’s important to know that I was a church musician throughout all of my adolescence and into my early adulthood. The pianist at the services I usually played at was a top-notch jazz pianist, and also my piano teacher for about six years while I as in high school and undergrad. (Incidentally, I had a HUGE crush on his son, who was/is a jazz saxophonist and clarinetist and also played in the church band, but that’s a story for another day.) One of the hymns we played a few times a year was called “Sing of the Lord’s Goodness,” which is notable for being in 5/4 time. Whenever this hymn was on the schedule, it was usually the recessional, or the last song played as the clergy processed out and the congregation got ready to leave, so we were able to have some fun with it. After a couple verses the piano player and his son would usually morph it into “Take Five,” a famous jazz standard by Dave Brubeck which is also in 5/4 time. Anyway, the first time I listened to this song in full, it got to Judas’s line “People who are hungry, people who are starving,” and I sat bolt upright and went “HOLY SHIT THIS IS ‘SING OF THE LORD’S GOODNESS/TAKE FIVE.’” And I was ricocheted back in time to being fourteen and trying to keep up with this father/son duo in a cavernous Catholic church while simultaneously making heart-eyes at the son. Final note: This is the only song in the musical to feature all three leads (Jesus, Judas, and Mary Magdalene) and is mostly Jesus and MM being soft with each other in between bouts of Jesus and Judas snarling at one another.

6) This Jesus Must Die: I LOVE that all the villains in this production are in tailored suits. LOVE IT. Also, Caiaphas and Annas are a comedy duo akin to “the thin guy and the fat guy,” except in this case it’s “the low basso profundo and the high tenor.” Excellent use of the arena video screen again, this time as CCTV.

7) Hosanna: My background as a church musician strikes back again. It honestly took me two or three listens to catch it, but then I had another moment of sitting bolt upright and going “HOLY SHIT THIS IS A PSALM.” Psalms sung in church usually take the form of call-and-response, with a cantor singing the verses and the congregation joining in for the chorus. If I close my eyes during this song, I have no trouble imagining Jesus as a church cantor singing the verses and then bringing the congregation in for the “Ho-sanna, Hey-sanna” chorus.

8) Simon Zealotes: This is part “Gloria In Excelsis” and part over-the-top Gospel song. Honestly it’s not my favorite, but it marks an important mood change in the show. The end of “Hosanna” is probably Jesus at his happiest in the entire show, and then Simon comes in and sours the mood by trying to tip the triumphant moment into a violent one. Jesus is not truly happy again from this moment on.

9) Poor Jerusalem: Also not my fave. It kinda reads like Webber and Rice realized that Jesus didn’t have a solo aria in Act I, so they came up with this. But it has the distinction of containing the lyric, “To conquer death you only have to die,” which is the biggest overarching theme of the story.

10) Pilate’s Dream: Pontius Pilate might be the most underrated role in this entire show, and I love that this production has him singing this song while being dressed in judge’s robes.

11) The Temple: The first half of this is one of the campiest numbers in Act I, at least in this production, and it’s awesome. The second half is one of the saddest, as Jesus tries to heal the sick but finds there are too many of them. Also the whole scene is almost entirely in 7/8 time, which I think is just cool.

12) I Don’t Know How To Love Him: Mary Magdalene’s big aria, and one of the songs I knew prior to seeing the full-length show. This production has MM taking off her heavy lipstick and eye makeup onstage, mid-song, which is kind of cool. Melanie C says in a BTS interview that MM’s makeup is her armor, so this is a Big Symbolic Moment.

13) Damned For All Time: The scene transition into this song is played entirely in pantomime, and I love it. The solo guitarist gets to be onstage for a bit, A+ use of the video screen again to show Judas on CCTV, etc. Love it. And then this song is Judas frantically rationalizing what he’s doing, and what he’s about to do, with Caiphas and Annas just reacting with raised eyebrows and knowing looks.

14) Blood Money: This is where the tone of the show really takes a turn for the dark. I think this might be one of Tim Minchin’s finest moments as Judas, because his facial expressions and microexpressions throughout this scene speak absolute volumes. And the offstage chorus quietly singing “Well done Judas” as he picks up the money is a positively chilling way to end Act I.

15) The Last Supper: Act II begins with major “Drink With Me” vibes. (Except JCS came WAY before Les Miz, so it’s probably more accurate to say that “Drink With Me” has major “The Last Supper” vibes.) Jesus and Judas have their knock-down, drag-out fight, and it’s honestly heartbreaking, thanks again to Tim Minchin’s facial expressions. A well-done production of JCS will really convey that Jesus and Judas were once closer than brothers, even though their relationship is at breaking point when Act I begins.

16) Gethsemane: This is Jesus’s major showpiece and one of my faves. Jesus knows he has less than 24 hours to live, he knows he’s going to suffer, and worst of all, he doesn’t know whether it’s going to be worth it. It’s an emotional rollercoaster to watch and to perform, and it goes on for ages: something like 6 or 7 minutes. Fun fact: the famous G5 is not written in the score. Ian Gillan, who played Jesus on the original concept album, just sang it that way, so most subsequent Jesuses have also done it that way. Lindsay Ellis has a great supercut of this on YT. John Legend notably sang the line as written during the 2018 concert.

17) The Arrest: Judas’s Betrayer’s Kiss is played differently across different productions. The 2012 version is pretty tame - I’ve seen clips and gifs of other productions, including the 2000 direct-to-video version, where they kiss fully on the mouth and have to be dragged apart by the guards and it is THE MOST TENDER THING. Then the 7/8 riff from “The Temple” comes back and the 2012 version lets the video screen do its thing again as Jesus is swarmed by reporters.

18) Peter’s Denial: Not much to say about this one, as it’s basically a scene transition. But it’s a significant moment in the Passion story, so I’m glad they included it.

19) Pilate and Christ: The 2012 production continues with the theme of Caiaphas, Annas, and Pilate all being bougie af, since Pilate intentionally looks like he just came from tennis practice during this scene. Also he does pilates...hehehe.

20) King Herod’s Song: Tim Minchin says in a BTS interview that JCS works best when Jesus and Judas are played seriously and the rest of the production is allowed to be completely camp and wild and bizarre all around them, and he is bloody well CORRECT about that. Case in point: King Herod. There is not a single production of JCS that I know of where Herod is played “straight.” He’s been played by everyone from Alice Cooper to Jack Black, and everyone puts a different zany spin on him. In JCS 2012 he’s a chat show host in a red crushed velvet suit, who is clearly having the time of his LIFE.

21) Could We Start Again Please: This is another of my faves. Just a quiet moment where MM, Peter, and the disciples try to grapple with the fact that Jesus is arrested and things are going very, very badly. This is also my favorite Melanie C moment of the 2012 show. Her grief is very real, and the little moment she has with Peter at the end is very real.

22) Death of Judas: This is basically Tim Minchin screaming for about five minutes, and incredibly harrowing to watch on first viewing.

23) Trial Before Pilate: Possibly my single favorite scene in the entire 2012 production. This is another harrowing watch, but there’s so much to take in. The “set” that the entire show takes place on is essentially just a massive staircase, and the people with power are almost always positioned above the people without power. In this scene, the crowd shouting “Crucify Him!” is positioned above Pilate, which is a very telling clue to Pilate’s psychology during this scene. Jesus is at the very bottom of the stairs, of course. Excellent use of the video screen once again during the 39 Lashes, to show the lash marks building and building until the entire screen is a wash of red. Pilate’s counting also gets more and more frantic, especially starting around “20.” And all the while the guitar riff from “Heaven On Their Minds” is playing. Jesus’s line “Everything is fixed and you can’t change it” is played quite differently in different productions - here it’s defiant, but elsewhere (in JCS 2000 for example) it’s almost tender, like Jesus is absolving Pilate for his part in the trial. But it always ends the same - with Pilate almost screaming as he passes the sentence and “washes his hands” of the whole sorry business.

24) Superstar: The most over-the-top number in the show. Judas, who died two scenes ago, comes back to sing this. There are soul singers. There are girls in skimpy angel costumes. The parkour guys from the prologue are back. Judas pulls a tambourine out of hammerspace midway through the song. And Jesus is silently screaming and crying as he gets hoisted onto a lighting beam while all this is going on.

25) The Crucifixion: More of a spoken-word piece than a song, it’s Jesus’s final words on the cross over eerie piano music, and another harrowing watch.

26) John 19:41: An instrumental piece in which Jesus is taken from the cross and carried, at last, to the top of the stairs, before being lowered out of sight as the video screen turns into a memorial wall and everything fades to black.

So. I know I’m anywhere from three to fifty-one years late to this particular party, but I am on the JCS bandwagon now and I’m thoroughly enjoying myself. :)

#jesus christ superstar #jcs 2012 #jcs is all i have been thinking about all week sorry not sorry #ben forster #tim minchin #melanie c #andrew lloyd webber #tim rice

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bloodfromthethorn · 3 years

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PTSD

Los Angeles doesn't get a lot of storms, but when it does, the Phoenix team takes notice.

Part four of the July of Whump 2021 prompt challenge.

Also on AO3.

The whole team was exhausted when they filed into the War Room for debrief. Eight long days of running around Indonesia chasing a covert terrorist cell was not exactly an activity conducive to getting a good night’s rest, and all of them showed it. Of all of them, Jack was probably managing the best, his years on the job getting him comfortably into the habit of grabbing catnaps in moments of quiet, but even he was on the verge of crashing hard. Boze looked like he’d already given up the ghost and had embraced sleepwalking.

Matty eyed them all with a sort of quiet concern she very rarely let them actually see.

“I know you’re tired,” she started carefully, “So let’s keep this short. Do you have any injuries to report?”

There was a general negative hum.

“Anything outside of what I caught on comms that I need to know about?”

Again, a quiet murmur of no.

“Do any of you have any questions or concerns you wish to raise about this mission?”

This time Jack’s hum was a little more non-committal; he had every intention of bitching about the state of their non-existent intel in his report, but that could wait until he’d been unconscious for a solid 20 hours. Getting into it now would only get messy and besides, he’d bitched about it plenty on comms too.

Matty nodded sharply when none of them spoke up. No doubt she’d caught their mild discontentment, but she was smart enough to realise now was not the time to fight that particular battle. Instead, she offered them a rare smile. “I think that’s all we need to cover right now. You’ve all got the rest of the week off – go home and get some rest.”

There was an audible sigh of relief as they turned as one to leave. Of course, that had to be the moment when Matty called after them.

“Oh, Jack, one more thing.”

He barely resisted letting out an audible groan as he swayed back on his heels, glancing over his shoulder. Ahead of him, the team also paused, interested despite their fatigue in whatever else Matty had to say.

“Weather reports indicate there’s a storm front coming in,” she said, apology and concern in her face if not her voice. She was watching Jack closely as she delivered the news. “Should reach the city in a few hours and last at least the night.”

At that, Jack really couldn’t help but groan. His head swivelled to meet Mac’s gaze, who was staring back at him with a resigned sort of distress colouring his face. Of all the possible times for LA to get a rare summer storm, it had to be right when the pair of them were already on their last legs. Of course.

“Copy that,” he said instead of screaming his frustration to the world, because despite what Matty said he did actually know the meaning of professionalism, thank you very much. “My house or yours, hoss?”

Mac considered it, looking tired and wan in the fluorescent lights. He might be the toughest person Jack knew, but right then he didn’t look like he could survive another sleepless night. “That waffle place near me does delivery until 2am now,” he mused after a moment’s thought.

Jack shot him a grin he didn’t really feel. “Sold.”

“But Boze-” Mac started, twisting to look at where the other two members of their team were still lingering in the doorway.

Riley neatly cut him off before he could finish voicing his concerns. “Boze will be perfectly fine spending the night at my place,” she said, casting a quick glance at the man in question to make sure he was fine with the arrangement. “You guys do what you need to do. Have fun with your waffles.”

“Yeah, man,” Bozer chipped in, “I’m all good. Don’t worry about me. Just try to get some rest if you can.” Riley tugged on his arm to get the pair of them moving, but he still twisted round to call over his shoulder, “And save me some waffles!”

With that they were gone, leaving Jack smiling fondly after them and Mac looking like his overworked brain was still trying to catch up with the conversation he’d just had. God, he was about thirty hours past exhausted and Jack could hardly stand knowing it would be some time yet before he could get some proper sleep in him.

“C’mon hoss,” he said softly, nudging at Mac’s elbow to grab his attention. “Let’s get you home. If we hurry, we might get a quick snooze in before the storm gets here.”

Mac did actually manage to catch a brief nap during the car ride home but he woke with a jolt when the engine shut off, much to Jack’s chagrin. Mac had never quite managed to pull off Jack’s habit of falling asleep at the drop of a hat, and it really cost him on long missions. His Overwatch had made it something of a personal mission to get Mac to sleep whenever he feasibly could.

“Anything left in the fridge is probably out of date,” Mac mused as they shambled into the house. His neighbours had learned to put up with a lot in his time living there, so two barely-conscious grown men would hardly even raise an eyebrow, thankfully. “Pizza?”

Jack considered for longer than he reasonably needed to before shaking his head. “Nah, not tonight. Is that Thai place down on the corner still open?”

“Chai Yo? Yes, but it’s closed on Thursdays.”

“Is it Thursday?”

There was a long beat of silence before Mac muttered quietly to himself and tugged out his phone to check. Jack eyed in enviously, his own having taking a swim in the Banda Sea after Mac repurposed it for some kind of SOS beacon. “Yes, it is. Apparently it’s also July? I thought we were still in June.”

Jack offered him a full body shrug, then dropped heavily onto the sofa. “Can’t be expected to keep track when Matty has us crossing timezones every other day.”

“Yeah. Well, Chai Yo’s closed. There’s that other Thai place, on Harris Avenue.”

Jack wrinkled his nose. “No, thanks. That place was awful.”

Not inclined to disagree, Mac tried to convince his brain to stop being mush and actually come up with a decent idea for dinner. “That diner on Northridge does deliveries now too I think,” he said at length. “I could go for a greasy burger.”

His partner mulled that over, then nodded slowly. “Yeah, that sounds good. You wanna call it in?”

Mac’s phone was already in his hand and he really didn’t have the energy to listen to more of Jack’s good-natured griping about losing yet another mobile to one of his builds, so he waved him off and retreated to the kitchen to place the order. That done and with more food on the way than two very athletic adults could conceivably eat, Mac stumbled back into the living room and collapsed face down on the sofa beside Jack’s inelegant sprawl.

“It just had to be tonight, huh,” he muttered petulantly into the pillow, thinking of a hundred previous stormy nights spent huddled up beside Jack on that very sofa.

The first few times it happened, Mac had assumed Jack was just humouring him. Someone as well trained and experienced as his Overwatch surely had no trouble fighting past the instinctive panic that gripped Mac whenever thunder boomed loud enough to shake the windows or lightning flashes lit up his entire house. It was merely another facet of Jack’s kindness that he was willing to spend the night with Mac to help chase away his demons when his brain was filled with nightmares about failed defusals and gunfire.

Then there’d been that flight back from Panama, when their jet had unexpectedly run into a thunderstorm while Jack was peacefully napping on one of the reclining chairs. At the first crack of thunder, he’d been on his feet, skin ashen and with one hand batting helplessly at his thigh for the gun that wasn’t there. It had taken Mac a solid ten minutes to calm him down enough to return to his seat, fighting his own flashbacks the whole way, and even then Jack’s entire body remained rigid for the rest of the flight.

Mac didn’t think he was simply humouring him after that.

Now, after years of dealing with it – and no small number of conversations with the Phoenix’s resident therapist – the pair of them had developed a system of diversions to keep them level-headed through the worst of LA’s inclement weather. The rest of the team was happy to help out, and all of them kept an eye on weather reports when the humidity started getting high. All of them had at one point or another seen Mac and Jack’s reactions to sudden loud noises or bright flashes and they wanted to do everything they could to spare them from it.

Mostly though, it boiled down to nothing more than being together while they – quite literally – weathered the storm. It was much easier to pull Jack from the brink of a nightmare about failing to save Mac when Mac himself was the one doing it, and vice versa. Besides, as much as Bozer and Riley had learned a lot since joining the Phoenix, neither of them knew the hell of the Sandbox and Mac and Jack were happy to keep them in the dark. There were some horrors that just weren’t meant to be spoken of.

“I’ve told you before man, you’re unlucky,” Jack replied, an uncoordinated arm reaching out to pat Mac consolingly on the shoulder. “Got no sense of luck at all.”

“I’m pretty sure the natural weather system of Southern California is beyond the reach of my personal control.”

“If anyone could though, man, it’d be you.”

Mac considered that. “Uh, thanks?”

There was peaceable silence for several long minutes and Mac listened as Jack’s breathing deepened and slowed. He always marvelled at how quickly Jack was able to get to sleep, envious of the apparent ease with which he did it. Mac had struggled with insomnia even before life as a soldier filled his head with more nightmares than anyone should have to deal with and these days he was lucky to get to sleep inside of an hour when he actually made it to his own bed. Of course, when they came home from a mission like the one they’d just had, all bets were off.

He rolled himself over so he wasn’t smothering himself in the cushion and pulled out his phone. The delivery app informed him that their food would be arriving in about ten minutes, so he slowly heaved himself back onto his feet and bustled around the kitchen warming plates and snagging some beers. Long since familiar with the general background noise of Mac’s house, Jack slept right on through.

When Mac’s phone pinged to tell him that their food would be arriving any minute, he crossed back over to his partner and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. The man came awake instantly, blinking twice as he registered the familiar surroundings before relaxing back into the comforting softness of the cushions.

“Food’s almost here,” Mac offered in explanation, though it was proved moot three seconds later when the doorbell chimed.

They ate their dinner close beside each other on the sofa with the TV playing reruns of an old action show from the 80s Jack insisted was a classic but that Mac was barely able to follow through a combination of poor writing, truly objectionable acting choices, and visibly cheap sets. As the night started to draw in, they both kept half an eye on the black rainclouds drifting down off the hills; by the time they polished off the last of the fries, the first few droplets had started splattering against the windows.

The rain steadily built as the pair of them made their way onto films instead, kicking off with Lethal Weapon because Mac had vetoed Jack’s first four suggestions and felt too guilty to do it again. The first few times they’d done this, Boze had questioned their choice of action films when they were so busy trying not to think about all the things such movies entailed. They’d tried to explain themselves, unsuccessfully. In truth, there was no real way of understanding that fake, predictable violence helped to drown out real-life trauma unless you’d experienced it first-hand. Watching Mel Gibson body check some random actor somehow made it easier for Mac’s brain to process that time he’d been tackled clean off a rooftop by the one insurgent Jack hadn’t seen coming, and so on.

It was strange and imperfect, but they found it worked for them. Provided, of course, that they only watched films they already knew by heart, where gunfights and explosions couldn’t creep up on them.

They didn’t even make it until the end of act one before the first rolls of thunder washed over them. Mac shuffled ever so slightly in his seat, only stilling when Jack’s shoulder brushed against his and stayed there.

They stayed like that over the next hour or so as the rain steadily grew in intensity until it started to sound like machine gun fire against the roof tiles, and the thunder grew into a roaring, snarling beast in the air around them. Jack flinched sharply at the first flicker of lightning, and only seemed to breathe again when his fingers strayed to the pulse point on Mac’s wrist. Mac busied himself with the breathing exercises the therapist had taught him, and traded the occasional text with Charlie when the Day of a Thousand IEDs rattled around his skull. On the other side of the country and several hours ahead, Charlie must have been messaging back from his bed, but he dutifully responded all the same – Mac had done it for him too in the past.

“I ever tell you about that time in Sardinia?” Jack asked just as the film was coming to a close. It was clear that the movie alone wasn’t enough to combat their combined exhaustion and PTSD, which left them trading tales instead.

“I didn’t even know you’d been to Sardinia. What on Earth could the CIA have possibly wanted there?”

Jack settled himself back into the sofa, preparing himself for what was evidently going to be a long and involved story. “Well, as for what they wanted, there was a minor off-shoot of the Mafia making a base there. Something about ferrying money into France or something-” He waved a hand, “I don’t remember the details of it. Not important and probably classified.”

“We have the same security clearance Jack.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“We do. I’ve checked your file. I know.”

Jack pulled on an expression of great offense, touching his free hand to his chest like a swooning damsel. “You’ve been looking at my file? Buy me dinner first.”

“I literally just did.”

“Hmm. Yeah, okay. I guess that makes up for it. But no more snooping in my file! There’s private stuff in there.”

“That time you chased a gun-wielding madman down while entirely naked isn’t exactly private when you write it on an official mission report for the US government,” Mac muttered to himself.

Jack pulled a face at him. “Okay, smartass, you want to hear the story or not?”

He snickered, but waved an obliging hand. “I really do. Please continue.”

The story was predictably embellished, complete with wild hand gestures and a horrendous Italian accent thrown into the mix, but it was precisely what Mac needed to keep his concentration in the here and now. The telling of it seemed to help Jack too – his thoughts couldn’t stray to darker places when he was focused on bright Mediterranean sunshine and a mission that had gone so far belly-up it had wrapped right around into utterly absurd.

They managed to get as far as the part where Jack had to flee his hotel room wearing clothes stolen from the man he thought he’d been trying to rescue before a particularly sharp clap of thunder sent Mac’s face utterly white. His eyes slammed closed and his fists clenched so tight Jack could see where his nails were cutting into the meat of his palms.

Jack’s hands were on him in a moment, one wrapping carefully around his wrist to monitor the jackrabbiting of his heart while the other cupped his jaw, a thumb running soothingly over the stubbly skin.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” he murmured consolingly, keeping his voice quiet to act as an anchor for pulling Mac back to the present. “You’re at home, in LA, I’m here, Charlie’s fine, everyone’s okay. There’s no danger. You’re safe, Mac. You’re safe.”

“Not-” Mac tried, strangled, “Not me.”

“Ah, kiddo,” Jack breathed, feeling his own heart clench. “Everyone’s okay, I promise. I’m right here. You want me to get Boze and Ri on the phone? Hear their voices?”

Mac shook his head sharply, one hand darting up to curl into the fabric of Jack’s t-shirt like a lifeline. Watery blue eyes opened to latch onto his own.

“There you are,” Jack murmured, trying to keep his expression calm and open. “Stick with me man.”

“Are you- You’re okay?” Mac’s voice was very small. The hand fisted on Jack’s shirt was white with the force of his grip.

“Yeah, Mac. I’m completely fine. Not a scratch on me, see? I’m right here and we’re both safe. At your house, remember?”

He nodded slowly, his heartbeat finally starting to slow down and his breathing settling back into a steady rhythm. Jack released his grip on his chin, letting him look around and reorientate himself, but kept his other hand fixed on his arm. Touch was always the quickest way to settle a panicking Mac, provided Jack was the one doing it. Jack’s hands meant safety, meant protection, and they were the best anchor Mac had to reality when he was lost in a flashback.

“’m okay,” Mac mumbled after a long moment of strained silence, recapturing Jack’s gaze with his own. “I’m back.”

Jack eyed him with poorly disguised scepticism, but he didn’t comment on the reddened eyes or the still laboured breathing. Outside, the storm continued to rumble on like an unwelcome guest.

“It was Paktia again,” Mac said very quietly when Jack didn’t pick up his story. “The apartment building.”

“Aw, hoss. We both got out of there without a scratch. No boom.”

“I know that but… It was so close Jack. If I’d been just a second slower-”

“Ay now, none of that. You stop that right this instant, you hear me? You weren’t a second too slow and even if you had been, it wouldn’t have been on you. We only walked away from that because you were exactly who you needed to be in that moment, right? You did everything you possibly could have done and it paid off, and even if it hadn’t that still would have been true. Don’t kill yourself now over what-ifs, Mac. No one wins that game.”

They’d had the same conversation a hundred times and would no doubt be having it again later that night. Mac had said much the same thing to Jack two weeks ago when he’d come up out of a nightmare swinging. Like everything else they’d done that evening, it was a ritual born of long-held burdens and too many nights haunted by ghosts.

“Yeah,” Mac replied at length, finally releasing his grip on Jack’s shirt and slumping back into the cushions. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“I’m always right.”

“That is highly debatable.”

Jack smiled at Mac’s return to something more like living and silently congratulated himself for helping it happen. His own anxiety had been through the roof since the rain started, but focusing on helping Mac helped to keep his own demons at bay: he didn’t have time to worry about his past horrors when his partner was right there in front of him, needing his support.

“Well, if that’s true, I guess you don’t want any waffles, huh? I was thinking of ordering some myself…”

Mac’s grin was shaky, but it was there all the same. “Ass,” he said fondly, already reaching for his phone. “You can do the ordering this time though.”

Jack snagged the phone and had a quick look through the menu before placing the call. Mac sat quietly beside him all through, his eyes staring blankly out the window as his fingers came to rest against Jack’s pulse. It was a habit he’d picked up from his Overwatch, and he realised very quickly that it was incredibly reassuring to feel the steady thrum and know it meant his partner was safe and healthy and here.

When he was done, Jack dropped the mobile off on the coffee table and returned his attention to their previous conversation. “Now, Sardinia. Where was I?”

Mac huffed out a near-silent laugh and finally relinquished his hold on Jack’s wrist. He busied his fingers with the label of his beer bottle instead, but it was more a force of habit than an anxiety response – baby steps, and all that. “I seem to remember something about you being half-clothed while hanging out of a third story window?”

“Ah, yes!” Jack announced happily, slipping back into his showman persona to chase away the shadows lingering in the corners of the room. “Now, you’ll never guess what happened next.”

“You fell out of a third story window while half-clothed?”

Jack shot him a dry look. “You’ve absolutely no flair for the dramatic Angus.”

He snorted, swaying to the side to bump their shoulders together. “Nah. That’s what I’ve got you for.”

“Damn straight, and don’t you forget it.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

#MacGyver #angus macgyver #jack dalton #fanfiction #fanfic #my fanfic #whump of july 2021

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breakfastteatime · 4 years

Text

Mini Mac Fic Part 2!

Ta da! A continuation of this Jack’s got a sick Mac on his hands, and he’s gonna get him home and safely tucked up.

It was a quiet drive from Phoenix back to Mac’s place. Jack really had to bite his tongue to keep from asking Mac why he didn't just take a sick day. For a guy who was so smart, he could be incredibly stupid about his personal wellbeing.

Besides, Mac was asleep in the passenger seat, making it hard for him to answer anything. And Jack didn't want to disturb him until they got to his place. For him to be sleeping so much and so heavily during the day meant he really had to be sick. Mac slept light unless he’d gone beyond all his limits. And here he was, sleeping hard, his breathing a little ragged at the edges. He’d slumped against the door, head pressed to the glass like he wanted to cool off.

“Dammit, kid,” Jack muttered. “Can’t you make this easy just one time?”

Matty was right; Mac would be in trouble when he was well enough. He needed to learn to manage himself better. Or at all, really. Because one day, his cavalier attitude towards himself would really bite him in the ass. Just because they weren't on a mission and were out of rotation for a few weeks unless something major came in, didn't mean he could ignore his health.

“This would all be a lot easier if you were awake to hear me tell it to you straight,” Jack said.

Mac didn’t even stir.

Bozer always said Mac wasn’t one to take sick days ‘unless he’s vomiting, and even then, it’s fifty-fifty.’ Bozer then promised to share the story of how Mac had proceeded to projectile vomit in a high school chemistry class because he ignored a stomach-ache until it was too late.

There was resilience and then there was Mac. Jack hadn’t bothered asking him why he was so weird about taking time off. He knew why. Mac admitting to weakness, to vulnerability? It didn’t happen.

It was time for Mac to unlearn some of his bad habits.

By the time they got back to Mac's place, he was looking more flushed than before. Jack could hear a distinct crackle in his breathing, too. Probably still a cold, but maybe one nastier than average.

Killing the engine, Jack reached over, gently shaking Mac awake. “Home sweet home, bud. Let’s get you inside.”

"Mmmm," Mac mumbled, hoarse voice thick with congestion. “I’m up.”

His eyes hadn't actually opened.

"Uh-huh," Jack said, smiling fondly. "Wanna try that again?"

Mac's answer was clearly no because he was already asleep again. And snoring.

"I will carry your ass if I have to," Jack said, reaching over to check for fever. Yup, he had one. A nasty one. “Mac!”

Mac grunted.

"Fine. Stay right there."

Jack had a plan. He knew where Mac (okay, Bozer) kept the thermometer… Assuming Mac hadn’t repurposed it for anything. If Mac's temperature was anywhere close to 103F, they were going straight to the nearest ER, no passing go, no collecting $200. Jack wasn't letting Mac's ridiculous stubbornness melt his brain.

Thirty seconds later, Jack placed the digital thermometer in Mac's ear. He flinched, hand reaching up to slap at Jack's hand. "Stop," Mac said, voice coarse. "It's a cold or sinusitis or something. I’ll sleep it off.” He cleared his throat, unsuccessfully. When he spoke again, he still sounded like he’d gargled with sand. “You don't need to worry so much."

"No, you need to take this more seriously." Jack said. "You don't need it getting any worse."

"S'nothing," Mac mumbled, blinking hard, trying to wake himself up.

The thermometer beeped its reading before Jack could argue back. 102.5F. Not quite 103F. Mac got a stay of professional medical attention.

Jack tucked the thermometer into a pocket. "Bed. Water. Tylenol. In that order."

“Fine.” Mac pulled himself out of the car. He slumped against the car, sweat coating his face as he panted for breath and went several shades too pale.

Jack grabbed him before his legs gave out again, guiding him down to the ground. "Dizzy?"

"Yeah," Mac said, squeezing his eyes shut. “Not good.”

“You gonna barf?” Jack asked, wondering how he could put safe distance between himself and whatever might come out of Mac.

Mac let out a shaky breath. “Dunno.” He peeked through his bangs. "Sorry, Jack."

Jack managed a smile. "Yeah, kid, I know you are. But we have talked about this. You gotta look after yourself. A sick day now and then ain't the end of the world."

Mac mumbled something in response, but it was too soft and garbled for Jack to make sense of. He also hadn’t regained any color aside from the patches of bright red on his cheeks.

“Deep breaths,” Jack said. Maybe it wasn’t too late to get to a doctor. “You need me to carry you?”

“No!” Mac cried out. “Just gimmie a minute.”

“World spinning?” Jack asked.

“S’just a cold,” Mac said. “I’m not aching or anything.”

“Whatever it is, we need you inside, so let’s do this slowly. I’m gonna get you to your feet and we’re gonna walk inside.”

Mac held out a hand. Jack pulled him upright, holding both elbows until Mac was steady. Mac pulled away, his glassy eyes squinting against the sunlight. So, Jack could add a headache to Mac’s symptoms. He hovered close to Mac's side as they went inside. Mac made a beeline for the couch.

"Not bed?" Jack asked.

"Not that sick," Mac said. He sat down. Then he slumped onto his side, awkwardly kicking off his shoes. He groaned in relief. "Thanks for bringing me home. I'll get some rest now.” He shivered, closing his eyes. “Tell Matty I'm sorry. I’ll see you tomorrow."

Jack threw out his hands and turned in a circle. “Give me strength,” Jack hissed through his teeth. He couldn’t shout. Mac was sick. Calm. Jack needed to be calm. Very calm. Did Mac seriously think he was going to be left alone? Jack took a deep breath. He held it in for three then slowly released it. Feeling slightly less explosive (because when would Mac learn he wasn’t alone?), Jack headed to the kitchen, grabbed an icepack from the freezer, wrapping in a dishtowel. Next, he poured out a tall glass of water. Then he rummaged through Mac and Bozer's medicine collection, pulling out the Tylenol. Taking everything over to Mac, Jack nudged him awake and made sure he took a dose. Mac did what he was poked to, flopped back, accepted the icepack for his head, and fell asleep in seconds.

Jack fetched a thin green blanket and placed it over Mac. He glanced at his phone. Matty wanted to know when they were settled. Jack typed fast. One genius dosed and tucked up. He sent a photo too.

Cute, Matty texted back. Keep an eye on him.

“You know I got him.” Jack made a quick run to his car to grab his bag and his headphones. Going back into the house, Jack tuned into some classic hair metal, and settled himself into the recliner opposite Mac. He was still Mac’s Overwatch. Way too many dangerous people knew where Mac lived.

Another conversation Jack needed to have with him. But maybe not right now…

…Not when Matty had jammed a ton of paperwork into his bag. So you don't spend too much time worrying, she'd told him as he'd shepherded Mac to the car.

She knew Jack too well.

The hours ticked by. Jack worked hard, going over a number of training protocols for Phoenix’s tac teams. He looked up every so often, making sure Mac slept peacefully. Sure, his right pant leg rode up to his knee, one of his socks was half off, the blanket only covered one half of him, the icepack had melted, and he had his belly hanging out, but Mac was fast asleep and didn’t appear to be having any nightmares.

Mac awoke late in the afternoon. He blinked hard, staring at the blanket. “Shit!” He tossed the blanket away, breathing hard.

Jack looked up from the latest proposal. He saw Mac staring into the distance, not really seeing what was in front of him. "The blanket do something to offend you?"

"Weird dream," Mac said. He somehow sounded raspier than before. Maybe they needed to add laryngitis to his diagnoses. He sounded more congested too, a distinct crackle in his chest. Mac pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. "Hate sleeping during the day."

Jack eyed him critically. "How weird?"

"Couldn't touch anything green," Mac said. "Green was deadly. Except everywhere I went had green carpet so it was the weirdest game of The Floor is Lava."

Jack took a second to process. "Why green?"

"Arsenic," Mac said, pushing sweaty hair out his face. "They used to have a green dye that contained arsenic." He coughed, reaching for the glass of water Jack had topped up halfway through Mac’s nap. "And I had to keep stopping everyone putting on green t-shirts."

"Only you could have a sciencey nightmare," Jack said. He scooped up the green blanket. “Pretty sure this is free of arsenic.”

Finishing the water with a grimace, Mac slumped against the couch. "Guess it was on my mind."

"Arsenic? Do I need to worry? Are you looking to kill someone in a really historically accurate way?"

Mac smiled. "It's not just a murder weapon. There's probably some in your car battery. There could even be cyanide in the car’s upholstery or – "

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, okay, how 'bout you stop talking about deadly poisons, you’re making me itchy. Actually, just stop talking. You ain't gonna have much of a voice left soon."

"And that'd be a real bummer," Mac croaked. He winced. “Ow.”

“Feeling rough?” Jack asked.

“Yeah,” Mac said. He groaned. “Fine. I’m sick, okay? I admit it.”

“See, this is why you don’t come to the office when you’re sick,” Jack said. “That way, you get better quicker.”

“I get it,” Mac said. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone in today.”

“So, no going to work tomorrow?”

Mac sighed. And then coughed. And then winced. “No work tomorrow.”

Jack punched the air. “I won!”

Mac cocked an eyebrow. “On the other hand…”

“Oh no, don’t you dare,” Jack said, jabbing a finger at him. “You’re staying there. I will sit on you if necessary. Matty will probably order me if I tell her you’re thinking of going into the office tomorrow.”

“I’m joking,” Mac said. He moved himself upright, planting his hands against the cushions. “Okay.” He pushed himself to his feet, grimacing and rubbing his forehead. “Wow, this headache sucks.”

Jack got up too. “Hey now, stay right there. I can get you anything you need.”

Mac blinked at him. “Including a trip to the bathroom?”

“No, nope, you take care of that,” Jack said, hands held up. “I’ll get you something to drink. Something to eat, too. And some more meds.” He backed away, heading into the kitchen. “Think you’ve got any soup tucked away somewhere? Man, who am I kidding. Of course you do. Bozer is always two steps ahead with comfort food.”

“Hey, Jack?” Mac called after him.

Jack opened the fridge, looking for juice. “Yeah?”

“Thanks,” Mac said. “For… y’know… everything.”

Jack smiled to himself. “Anytime, Mac.”

(You can find my longer fics over here on AO3)

#mini mac fic #mini fic #macgyver 2016 #macgyver fanfiction #sleepy mac is adorable #papa bear jack forever #found family #sick fic #mac whump #love this show!#love a sleepy Mac

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femreader · 4 years

Text

The Writer - Natasha Romanoff

Request: the reader is working as a shield agent closely with the avengers, during one mission she ends up risking herself for Natasha because surprise surprise, she has feelings.

Summary: Y/N has a rare talent with pen and paper.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Warnings: a bullet wound, some shooty mctooty, also I am sorry if your name is Mia!!

“Why don’t we take Y/L/N with us,” Bucky wondered one-day out loud, as he, Sam, Steve, and Wanda were getting ready to go ambush a Hydra base. From a secured resource they had got a hint of something bigger brewing in the terrorist group, possibly another take on genocide. This time not wanting to take any chances Steve had immediately asked Wanda to accompany them.

Sam gave Steve a look, asking whether it was fine they’d go ahead and explain the newly recruited (and now much better feeling) addition, why in fact one of their best fighters was most of the time situated in her own room, only company being books, paper, and a pen. Her gift, or curse however you looked at it was a very carefully cherished secret of SHIELD, only the elite of the elite knew she even possessed such power.

Steve huffed slightly as they walked into the jet. Turning off all the comms in case they were already connected to the base before turning to his best friend.

“Y/N is a kind of safety factor. She usually handles kidnaps and stuff like that,” He said while they all buckled up and Steve turned on the engine. Bucky furrowed his eyebrows but didn’t pressure it anymore, respecting the privacy.

“But... she doesn’t get bored?” He asked, making a slight face. Knowing himself he’d be bored to death in less than three hours if he didn’t get to do anything. Steve, Sam, and Wanda looked at each other amused, sending prayers for Clint, Nat, and Carol for being stuck at the HQ with Y/N.

___

“I am booooooooored,” Y/N dramatically whined as she walked into the kitchen, dragging her pajama pants covered legs like a slug. She had stolen a pair from Tony so they were too long for her.

Y/N took out a cereal box and dug into it, looking for the prize inside. It was an amusing picture, watching a twenty-something-year-old go through the entire box of Captain Crunch for one color changing spoon. In Y/N’s defense, she hadn’t had the possibility to go to a mission in three months and all the reality TV-shows were starting to run out.

Captain Marvel herself, had decided to grace them all with her presence for a couple of days. Carol followed amused by her set on the sofa while reading some of the mission files from a while ago. A smug smile appeared on her face when she noticed the jealous look Y/N didn’t even bother to hide.

“I am going to die from boredom and then you guys don’t have anyone to save your asses anymore,” The human contemplated while sitting down with the cereal. She took huge handfuls and shoved them into her mouth, Carol cringed at her habits.

“Well, you and Nat are fine. The others are screwed,” Y/N continued and opened her old and worn notebook. The pages were slightly yellow and crumpled from turning.

“You’ve been keeping score?” Carol half-jokingly asked as she moved to another mission file. To her surprise, Y/N had in fact kept score on how many times she had been asked to go to the field to help her friends. All of the team members had their names written on one of the pages and an equivalent number of lines next to them. Clint had five, Steve three, Wanda and Thor were at respectful one, Sam was at four, Carol and Natasha had zero. Bucky was also at a big fat zero, but Y/N decided it was because he had only been on three missions, soon the recklessness would rub off of Steve to Bucky and they’d get into all sorts of trouble.

“Well, then, let’s just hope you’ll die quickly then,” Carol darkly joked, earning a slap to her arm.

“Who’s dying,” Natasha walked in, wearing her usual training gear. She and Clint had the turn on training the new recruits. Y/N was glad she was never given the position, mostly because she didn’t know jack-shit about teaching someone else, but also because it gave her a chance to watch the Black Widow in action while pretending to draw or write.

Y/N made a low squeak and got up from the sofa, Carol’s little shake of her head didn’t go unnoticed. Y/N stuck her tongue out and went to put the cereal box back into the cupboard. Natasha quipped an eyebrow at Carol, surprised to see Ms.” I’m-always-in-my-room” actually outside.

“You two hopefully,” Y/N scowled at their teasing while skipping out of the kitchen and back to somewhere where she could die from embarrassment in peace.

Okay so maybe Y/N had a crush on Natasha, just a tiny itsy-bitsy crush. But who wouldn’t have, she was most likely the most stunning woman alive, she knew exactly how to pressure people to talk, she knew exactly how to manipulate the bad guys into spilling their beans like asking a golden retriever fetch a stick. The whole six years Y/N had been working with SHIELD, three of them she had been slightly pining after the redhead, but never having the courage to do anything about it (much to the dismay of Sam and Clint). That and the fact she up until half a year ago she was together with her now ex-girlfriend.

___

It was two weeks later when Y/N was awoken from her nice, deep day nap by her pager. It hadn’t rung in almost four months, so immediately when it reached her ears in her dream of Candyland Y/N was basically half-dressed and out of her room. She jumped out, took her notebook and ran down the stairs, her hair messed up and her two-day-old t-shirt and sweats on.

There already was Clint waiting with her, when he saw Y/n run down he thrust an ear comm into her hands and already began walking towards the jets.

“They sent Steve, Bucky, and Nat ahead.”

“What went wrong?” Y/N asked knowing they wouldn’t be going after an already active mission if there wasn’t one of their team members' lives on the line. Clint pushed in a bypass code on the jets activation pad and took a hold of the wheel.

“Apparently the source was unreliable.”

Y/N made a slight hissing voice, she knew they had been after some sorts of diaries holding the information for Hydra’s next massive genocide and where the trio had been sent was supposedly the last place to withhold said diaries. Whatever had happened it must have been years in the making on Hydra’s behalf or then they had been screwed over by some of the new recruits sent to do fieldwork.

“Old plan? Get them out,” Y/N asked as she put on her hair and put on a protective bullet vest over her thin jacket. It felt weird to wear it after so long, it was kind of like a hug. Welcome back to the job.

“Get them out,” Clint confirmed as they lowered on the ground. They could hear the sounds of the bullets and screams the second they opened the back hatch. Y/N went to the east side while Clint went to the west.

Y/N stopped by an old bunker, which fortunately wasn’t in use at the moment and looked around, pondering how she could use the situation and her knowledge at hand for their advantage. She clicked her pen and drew a quick sketch of a man running in the woods. Soon enough after blowing on it the shadow moved to run behind the trees and the shooters took the bait. As they were too busy shooting at the nonexistent being Y/N made her away inside the building.

It was eerily quiet, much, much quieter than outside.

“Guys, this is Y/N. Are you all alright? Where are you?” She carefully asked while hiding behind a wall. Her earpiece crackled for a second. She could hear the voice speaking, echo down the hallway.

“I’m with Steve, we don't’ know where NAt is.”

Y/N jogged down the hallway, and soon enough was faced with the two super-soldiers, both of them very beaten up and hanging on each other like they were about to fall over.

“It’s just me,” She held up her hands. “Clint and I brought a jet, it’s a mile to the south, I’ll go find Nat, where did you see her last time.”

“North wing,” Steve said. “You take bucky, I’ll go get her.”

“Steve you can both barely stand up, let alone possibly carry someone else out of here,” Y/N disagreed, already halfway the hallway towards the north wing.

“You guys go to the jet and don’t die. I’ll be there with nat as soon as I find her.”

___

“Nat do you copy,” Y/N tired once again after walking around aimlessly the north wing, not seeing even a hint of the red-haired assassin. She clutched her notebook tightly.

“Nat? Are you even alive?” She murmured darkly. Sounds of fighting echoed down the hallway and Y/N sprang into action. Sort of relief washed over her when she recognized the missing agent in the midst of chaos, but it was soon replaced with worry. Rolling her lips together Y/N flipped the pages until she saw the old drawing of a pistol, blowing on it, the gun appeared on the floor beside her.

Y/N shot the three closest Hydra agents and grabbed Natasha blindly by her arm.

“Nice seeing you too!” Y/N chuckled dryly at the assassin as they half ran half jogged down the hallway and into a random storage room.

It was empty, cold and very much a dead end.

“Oh, Jesus, Nat!” Y/N exclaimed when she noticed the big stain of red on Natasha’s side. It wouldn’t have worried her so much had it not been growing bigger by every second.

Natasha saw her Y/N’s look and mustered up a smirk, holding her side in the hopes the burning would stop. “Welcome back Y/L/N. Missed the work?”

The sounds of the barricade being broken began to grow louder and Y/N swallowed thickly. They were stuck many feet down, with only one half loaded handgun and one very seriously damaged assassin. She blew a hair out of her face while taking off her bullet vest and then the jacket. Y/N heard Nat slightly groan when she wrapped it around the bullet wound.

“Sorry,” Y/N breathed out and spoke to the comm. “Clint, I found Nat can you copy? Steve? Someone?”

“We’re too deep, the signal’s shit in here,” Natasha grumbled, slightly wincing at the sounds of their possibly imminent death. Y/N’s heart was drilling through her chest as she pressed on the clothed wound, her hands red.

“I might have an idea,” She said warily and looked at Natasha, whose piercing green eyes were already looking at her. Had it now been a situation where both of them were on the verge of death, Y/N just might have blurted out she loved her.

“How much do you trust me?” She asked Nat.

“A lot more if you get us out of here,” The assassin said and Y/N nodded. She took out her notebook and flipped to the age where was a picture of her room. Natasha cocked an eyebrow after seeing the very detailed picture of Y/N’s room.

“I drew it just in case, but I haven’t really before tired this,” Y/N mumbled as she did her best to draw both of them there. “This is going to hurt.”

Squeezing her eyes shut Y/N blew on the page and just as the doors were kicked down, Natasha and Y/N were pulled into a swirl of colors and lead, stretched and pulled until they laid on her bedroom floor. Both of them were breathing rather loudly.

“It worked,” Y/N stated in disbelief. “Holy shit it actually worked. You alright- Oh fuck,” She noticed the amount of blood now oozing out of Nat’s side. Y/N cringed when she felt the warm, sticky liquid on her hands again as she picked up Nat with the best of her ability.

___

“Here you go kiddo,” Tony gave Y/N back her notebook, which was still slightly tainted with blood on some of the pages. She took it into her now clean hands and huffed at the sight of her rug.

“Need to get that cleaned too. Or just get a new one, it was ugly anyway,” She chuckled. Tony gave her a lopsided smile.

“You alright?” he asked, looking at Y/N who was sporting some nice bags underneath her eyes. She looked up at him with a smile and nodded.

“After a long, long nap,” She joked and leaned back in her bed. Once Tony had left the room, Y/N sat up again, looking at her notebook. The picture of her and Nat was still on it, she hadn’t had the heart to wipe it away just quite yet. Instead, she turned a couple of pages back and with a hint of a triumphant smile drew one line next to Natasha’s name.

“I’m going outside,” Y/N declared a month later, her notebook, wallet, phone, and keys in her bag slung over her shoulder. She smiled at Pepper who was working on some sort of castle with Morgan before going down on the elevator.

It was a nice and warm summer day, and the ice cream was on sale. Y/N thought it would be the best chance of escape to get out of the headquarters, and a certain redhead. Not that it was that hard to avoid Natasha as she seemed to already be dodging on seeing Y/N anywhere.

Y/N did her best not to let it get to her head but it still did annoy her.

“One (y/f/flavor) thanks,” She leaned to the small kiosk’s counter, waiting for the teenage girl to make her ice cream. The park was full of people enjoying the summer, kids running around, parents being worried about them. A couple of teenagers just hanging out and having a picnic. Y/N huffed at the couples, wondering if she and her ex ever even went to a picnic. Or even a date to begin with.

“Thank you,” Y/N took the ice cream, not able to even have one lick before a very familiar and extremely unwelcome voice rang out, accompanied with another set of footsteps. Y/N cursed in her head for not being more aware of her circumstances.

“Hi, Mia,” Y/N’s lips rolled into a tight line as her left hand rested on her bag and her right one held the ice cream.

Mia was looking exactly the same as a year ago when they had broken up. Her slender long legs, full of fake tan glowed in the sun as she was wearing some high waisted shorts and a blouse with a couple of buttons undone. Her Paris Hilton sunglasses rested over her blonde mop of straight hair, and Y/N couldn’t help but wonder what did he ever even see in her.

Mia popped a bubble gum and chewed it theatrically.

“Y/N, fancy seeing you here.”

“it’s literally a park, for civilians,” Y/N blinked her eyes. Mia mumbled a whatever and pretended to brush some dirt off of her blouse. Y/N noted the other girl, stand behind her, she was the exact version of Mia but a brunette version.

“Yeah, but you weren’t ever the one to socialize right?” Mia said knowing she hit a nerve. Y/N had always been a bit shy as a kid and as a teenager, after being recruited to SHIELD she had started to come out of her shell. The biggest reason had been the fact how many times she had been called a freak because of her talent with pen and paper.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry,” Mia said suddenly, sounding everything except sorry. “I just thought, well no one wants to actually be with a freak? Right?” She looked at Y/N, who was squinting her eyes at her. Before Y/N could properly complete the murder plan she was coming up within her head another person, a person Y/N did not expect to accompany her, appeared next to her.

“And that’s why she broke up with you,” Nat said in a weird sweet voice. Y/N couldn't help but slightly chuckle at Mia’s and, her who she presumed was her girlfriend’s, gaping mouths as Natasha casually had her arm around Y/N’s waist. Y/N had to hide her smile behind her ice cream and ate it.

“C’mon hun, let’s go,” the redhead said.

“Sure, one thing though,” Y/N smiled to her and walked up to Mia. “Here, to cool your hothead,” She stated and smashed the ice cream on top of Mia’s head. Y/N didn’t stay to follow the aftermath, instead, she turned around to Natasha, who was smirking at her.

“You should be resting,” Y/N noted as they walked away from the screaming blonde, Nat’s hand still around Y/N’s waist. Her cheeks were flared up and her heart was about to drill through her chest, but she didn’t want to move away.

“Well, I thought I owe you a coffee date.”

“And some explanations,” Y/N added, later on almost choking on her spit when thinking about Natasha’s words.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #Black Widow #black widow x reader #black widow imagine #Captain Marvel #carol danvers

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halstudandruz · 5 years

Text

Jay Halstead- NSFW Alphabet

*Not my gif*

18+

A-Z

A- Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

“Baby, you have to give me some time to recover.” Jay chuckled kissing your head as you kissed all over his neck.

“I know, but you’re just so fucking hot.” You whined tracing your fingers over his chest down to his abs admiring his entire body.

“I promise you’re going to get it, but please just take a nap with me first?” Jay grinned pulling you closer into his side. You sighed giving in kissing his chest to lay your head down on it. Jay would help clean you up, because more often than not he liked to use the pull out method. Before climbing back into bed begging you for cuddles.

B- Body Care

He take pride in his arms and abs. He works hard on them and it’s obvious. He loves your neck. Kissing it anytime and he knows it drives you crazy too. Loves tucking his face into your neck moaning in to it.

C- Cum

Like I said before Jay prefers the pull out method. He loves cumming on you. Whether that be your ass if you’re in doggy, stomach, boobs, face, and to be honest you sticking out your tongue for, waiting to taste him it makes him finish even harder.

D- Dirty Secret

He likes when you take control. He would never tell the guys this, but there’s something about you handcuffing him to the bed that just drives him insane.

E- Experience (How experienced are they?)

Jay’s hot. Obviously he has girls throwing themselves all over him and who is he to say no? So coming into the relationship he was quite experienced. He proves this to you in many ways. Although you do get a little jealous with that fact from time to time it does seem to always work out to your advantage.

F- Favorite Position

He likes missionary. Some people think it’s too “vanilla” but there’s a reason it’s the most common position. Loves being able to take in your body, run his hands up and down your body, taking mental pictures, and taking notice of every face you make.

G- Goofy

Sleeping with Jay can be playful and lighthearted but it can also be completely serious and intense. It usually all depends on the day he had.

H- Hair (How well groomed)

Jay keeps himself nicely groomed. Even when he’s having a hard time and has a nice beard (which can we talk about how fucking hot he looks with a beard okay) he still keeps himself neatly shaven.

I- Intimacy (How are they during the moment?)

It depends on the day. If he’s been through a hard time/hard case you’re getting fucked hard and there’s no other way to put it. But he also has days where he pampers you. Drawing you a bath and starting there before carrying you to the bed and giving you extra attention to every one of your body parts that he loves.

J- Jack Off

Jay never really needs to jack off. Only really if he pulls out too soon, or if you go away for work. You love watching him jack off though, but that will be your dirty secret.

K- Kink

Nudes, phone sex (he loves being able to make you cum when he’s not even home. He’s working on a case, takes long hours, by the time he gets home he’s exhausted, but he still makes sure he can make you feel good), and bondage (specifically handcuffs obvi)

L- Location

He likes your bed. He’s tall so he likes having room to move and take care of you. But he also likes the back seat of his truck. Although he doesn’t have as much room he likes knowing he takes criminals down in this truck but also takes you down.

M- Motivation (What turns them on?)

He loves seeing you in his clothes. He’s taller so they’re always too big on you, but that’s what makes them look even better on you. More times than not he wouldn’t bother taking his own t-shirt off you before throwing you down on the couch and diving right in. Although he would never admit it he loved your teasing. You would slide up on his lap at Molly’s. Ever so slightly grinding down into him secretly. Leaning in to his ear to whisper all the things you planned to do to him later. He took this in stride though reaching down to run his hand up and down your thigh always a little too high, earning a blush from you, which was always his goal because honestly you blushing turned him on even more.

N- NO

Jay does not like hurting you. When he does use the handcuffs they are never too tight. He refuses to put you down. The word “whore” will never come out of his mouth it’s always words of affirmation, and like I said before no other people. It drives him insane knowing you even had sex before him. Threesomes would be an absolute no go. You are his and only his.

O- Oral (Preference I’m giving or receiving)

Don’t take it wrong he definitely likes receiving, loves when you drop down on your knees for him just when he gets home, but he also loves to spoil you. Walking in the door and throwing you on couch. Completely indulging you.

P- Pace

Jay does give you a couple minutes to adjust to him, going slow to tease you, but as soon as you’re ready as soon as he hears his name roll off your tongue a switch flips and it is rough and fast.

Q- Quickie (Opinions on quickies)

He doesn’t mind quickies. He would much rather take his time with you and have you at his mercy, but if you show up at his work and have the opportunity a quickie will be happening.

R: Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks?)

Jay likes to experiment to a point. He’s game to try new things, new positions, new places to have sex (risking different public places, he’s in intelligence he could get out of trouble if you get caught), but he also knows where to draw a line. Threesomes are an absolute no go. No other man or woman is getting their hands on his girl

S- Stamina

Jay’s stamina is great. It’s not that you aren’t good because you definitely are. He just has trained himself enough to go until you can’t walk to next day. However if he doesn’t want to you can make him cum in under two minutes.

T- Toys

He doesn’t mind you having toys. He would never use any, but he knows he can’t always give you the time and attention you deserve when he gets caught up at work. So, he’s okay with whatever you want to use, and you assure him the real thing will always be your number one.

U: Unfair (How much they like to tease)

Jay is the king of teasing. The amount of times he would pretend to kiss you on the cheek, but was actually whispering dirty thoughts and nipping your ear was incredible. When he was working on paperwork instead of a case you had come to expect the dirty descriptive text messages that would come through your phone. Praying that your work day would go even just a little faster. If you guys weren’t too tired you knew you would be in for some begging that night. His favorite word to come rolling off your tongue as he was in between your legs was “Please,” and by the end of the night you had always perfected that exact phrase.

V: Volume (How loud are they, what sounds they make)

Shockingly, at first Jay was shy, quiet. You didn’t earn so much as a couple grunts from him in a round. This kind of made you feel a little insecure. Made you feel like you weren’t doing as well as you hoped. So, you made it your mission to get those noises to come from him. Taking extra care and notes when it came to blowjobs, noticing what earned you a satisfied sigh, what made him throw his head back gripping your hair tighter. Even went as far as researching new riding techniques. Then one night you went to work. Between your mastered blowjob and skillful riding Jay could not hold himself together. Strings of moans, grunts, curse words, and your name rolling off his tongue, and you loved every fucking second of it. You think his voice is hot? You should hear his moan. From then on he had no problem being louder in bed and you learned the only reason he was quiet was because he was too focused on making sure he lasted.

W- Wild Card (Guys I feel like I suck at these 😂. But I pick your first time.)

You and Jay had both had sex before. Jay more so than you but you were both experienced. However Jay was very nervous. He pretended like he wasn’t but you could tell. He took his time with you making sure everything he did felt good. Taking note of every little thing you enjoyed. It was then that you realized you were in for one, and you were perfectly fine with that.

X- X Ray

Jay’s dick is solid. Literally the perfect dick. Along with the perfect man. Little over average in length and just the right amount of girth. Just enough that it fits in you perfectly without the pain of it being too big.

Y- Yearning

Jay’s sex drive is pretty normal. Would never force you into sex, and if you want it you get it, but it’s not every single night.

Z- ZZZ (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It doesn’t take long for Jay to fall asleep after. You put him through some work and even though he is very fit you can easily wear him out. Plus you cuddled up next to him doesn’t help his fight to keep his eyes open.

#jay halstead x reader #jay halstead smut #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead #jayhalsteadxreader #chicago pd x reader #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd

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offbrand-outlaw · 5 years

Text

Wanna guess what these are? RDR2 HCs

Sorry, I couldn't think of a funny title.

John always says he has a pet but he never really does. He'll see a random animal, give it a name, and think that counts as a pet.

Jack, as a baby, would babble a lot. He'd babble so much and Hosea loved it. He'd sit next to him and just carry on like they're having a conversation.

Dutch has a horribly bad sweet tooth and he very much enjoys treating himself. The main reason Strauss and Hosea keep track of the gangs finances is because Dutch will always try to blow a good portion of their money on sweets.

Hosea has to help Strauss with their money only because Strauss has trouble saying "no" to Dutch.

Strauss once let Dutch by $80 worth of chocolate bars and candy. Hosea yelled at them both for an hour.

Molly will do the other women's nails and they'd all gossip about everything. Sometimes Javier will come over and he'll braid their hair. He'll talk about all the stupid things Micah and Bill do.

Charles is very quiet and he usually keeps to himself, but Arthur always finds a way to keep close to him. They spend a lot of time together during their down time. Charles appreciates the company, especially since Arthur doesn't expect him to talk.

Dutch very much had teenage and moody Arthur on his side. They used to get together and annoy Hosea for fun.

Arthur was much faster and he always got away. Dutch never was so lucky.

When they first took Arthur in, Dutch and Hosea were really excited. They went into town and got him all sorts of things just to make him more comfortable. It was the only time Hosea allowed Dutch to spend more than $100 on snacks.

Kieran, while tending to the horses, has braided their manes and put little flowers in. He learned what kind of snacks all the horses prefer and tries to make sure they all get a snack at least once a day.

Sean likes to nap in trees. He likes to climb up them and fall asleep mainly just to show off, since he knows most of the gang members can't.

Agent Milton always finds the gang's hideout but he never really arrests them. He doesn't really like Cornwall so he kinda goes out of his way to stall the investigate. He'll show up, make his threats, and than go home and take a nap.

John and Arthur once found a baby skunk and brought it into camp when they were younger. They thought it was really cute and they were sad when they had to get rid of it.

Tilly loves squirrels and she always tries to feed them when she has free time. Sometimes Arthur will lend her his camera so she can take pictures of them.

I hope you enjoyed these! ❤

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr headcanons #john marston #jack marston #dutch van der linde #hosea matthews #leopold strauss #molly o'shea #javier escuella #charles smith #arthur morgan #kieran duffy #sean macguire #agent milton #tilly jackson #j's rdr

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faecaptainofdreams · 4 years

Photo

~~Laetus~~ Laetus, pronounced "lay-tuhs," is a Latin term for "colorful, joyful, glad," and most prominently, "lovable." This bizarre moth spirit was recently accidentally summoned to Earth-616 during a little magical mishap at Kamar-Taj. Sometimes opening portals invites in strange visitors, but given this one was so fluffy and seemingly harmless, Stephen allowed him to stay. As it is, he couldn't convince him to go back. Laetus is semi-sentient. A good example of how he behaves would be like a washed out, less insane version of GIR from Invader Zim, and even with a similar voice. But Laetus is considerably more intelligible, as his learning capability and memory retention are quite impressive. Still, this doesn't exactly make him intelligent. Consistently bearing a derpy, happy face and cheerful disposition, Laetus has been welcomed to residency in the Avengers facility, sharing run of the building, coming and going as he pleases. Strange would've kept him in Nepal, but the little imp kept getting into magical equipment, and so the Sorcerer Supreme deemed his presence unsafe for everyone. He's almost like a self-sufficient pet Laetus breaks the occasional thing, but isn't overly destructive nor does he take up space. His eating habits are various, with him eating more for pleasure and out of curiosity than real necessity. Sometimes he'll ingest that which isn't food, and thus he will puke it back up. "Lovable" comes quite befittingly, as Laetus has a secret power; the ability to pass his joy on to others, and typically make them laugh. With his almost hollow, wide moth eyes and high voice that bears resemblance to having some sort of impediment, his affect on others comes directly from his face and odd vocals. Not every word he says will make someone laugh, but much of what he says or learns to say, combined with his silly antics, more often than not causes most or all who witness to giggle or laugh. Laughter intensity varies among individuals, and though the effect may not last or create a permanent good mood, it's definitely good for breaking up tension and easing a troubled mind. After some exposure, Strange has noted that during a serious moment where he's trying to sort something out, whenever Laetus interrupts and causes him to laugh, once he becomes serious again the answers he sought become more clear. He speculates the moth's energy has a resonant mental cleansing capacity. Aside from causing laughter, Laetus' nature draws in those whom he encounters, which may or may not be a defense mechanism in its own right. He is charming and cute, and with that silly voice he appeals to most everyone, which in turn keeps him safe. Were he not so endearing, he would most likely be annoying otherwise, but there are people who do see him as annoying for the most part. But again, this all depends on individual personality traits, energy sensitivity, and comical preference. More serious or mentally damaged individuals are less likely to succumb to his charms, but even then, they often take too much pity in his nature to harm him. Whether or not Laetus is aware that his affects on others aid him remains a mystery, though it's popularly assumed that he is not aware. A side effect of his cuteness and magnetic appeal to others is that when he's trying to be serious, the adorable and comical voice tends to only make those whom he runs to for help laugh. Of course, no one laughs at him directly; they're laughing because his energy just brings them that unbridled joy, and they find him humorous. It's nothing intended to be insulting, or to make fun of him for being different. When times are serious enough, if he deeply needs someone to pay attention or is trying to alert them to trouble, he will quietly point to the thing he is warning of. Overall, Laetus is very accepted and loved, seen as something of a stay-at-home companion, though once in a while he will sneak into someone's luggage and stowaway if they leave for someplace else. On another occasional, he hid in Harlow (OC)'s backpack and infiltrated her school, causing the mutant a rather difficult day. ~~Personality~~ He is generally innocent in nature, blindly repeating things he hears on tv shows or YouTube videos, whether it's appropriate or not. He does appear to be conscious of the fact that he consistently makes others laugh just by talking to them, even when he's trying to be serious, but this isn't something he abuses. Laetus tends to refrain from being around 24/7, and he doesn't constantly butt in. He's friendly, generous and rather spontaneous. ~~Physiology~~ Laetus is plushy, covered in soft fur, and is roughly the size of a small dog. He has three fingers and a thumb per hand and four toes per foot. The antenna on his head are thick and long, indicative of his gender. His tail is fat and plump with an extended bone running through to the tip of it (he's a vertebrate). Unlike a standard moth, his intimate exits are not in his tail; they're where ours are. Laetus is 2 and 1/2 feet tall and weighs roughly twelve pounds. While moth and butterfly wings are covered in small, powdery scales, Laetus's are as well, but they're not so fragile, nor do the scales flake off. In fact, when he doesn't consciously need them to be stiff and fly-worth, they are flexible and very resilient, and can sometimes even be folded like paper. When he needs them to straighten out, they do it naturally. Because interdimensional moth spirit magic. When he flies, his wings beat rapidly, making a constant flapping sound. Like a regular moth, when his muscles need to be warmed up for flight, he will vibrate his whole person...which tends to make everyone laugh, especially considering he often hums while doing it. As you would imagine, Laetus is not overly coordinated when he flies and is susceptible to bumping into things -- most recently a ceiling light and blowing it up while trying to make off clumsily with a can of cheesy pringles he jacked from Sam and Steve in the kitchen. Needless to say, his attempt at pringle piracy was a bust, and it was hilarious. But just for his effort, the boys shared the chips with him, and made sure he didn't cut himself when he landed in the pile of glass from the shattered light. Though he flies similarly to a normal moth in terms of being a klutz, he definitely understands momentum and knows how to swing in its favor to get where he needs to go. Taking off is generally the hardest part of flight for him and is when he is most accident-prone, but once stable he can maintain consistent flight for hours, and even hover in place, and fly backwards or upside down. Laetus is surprisingly durable. This isn't to say he's indestructible, as he is a flesh spirit, but he can take a beating and his skin doesn't break easily. When cut, he bleeds blue, but heals quickly and naturally. Experience suggests he has an uncanny ability to absorb shock, for when he hits things at a high velocity he tends to just bounce straight off of whatever it is he hits. Considering his cuteness and apparent vulnerability and naivete, resilience to otherwise fatal encounters are extremely benefiting to him. Laetus doesn't appear to be strictly diurnal or nocturnal, as he sleeps off and on when he desires, preferring to nap occasionally as opposed to sleep hard for hours on end. This enables him to be awake day or night, though the others will note he seems particularly mischievous when the sun goes down. He isn't overly attracted to lights in a standard setting, but if he is in darkness and sees a single light, he will go to it out of curiosity. Laetus feels feelings just like us, including but not limited to satisfaction, curiosity, joy, sadness, pain, and fear. When he's afraid, he'll simply get quiet and lay flat with his antennae flat, and will say nothing. If Laetus is frightened, the entire mood tends to be brought down. It's ominous times if Laetus senses trouble and doesn't alert someone with a resounding "Oh no!" He can belch...like a man. It's not even a joke, but it is hysterical. He makes his friends proud every time... Most of them. ~~Preference~~ While Laetus has shown curiosity in anatomy, this is more childlike and immature. He has no real preference or urge to mate. He understands anatomy, though, and has a shockingly vivid grasp on sexuality, gender identity and reproduction.

#Marvel oc #MCU #moth #moth oc

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kawaiikatanabushi · 4 years

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Hakuouki Roadtrip Headcanons

Kondou Isami

-He is definitely primary driver if on the road with the group.

-His boundless patience not only makes him a levelheaded driver, but also ensures no one is getting fussed at for their antics.

-Asks frequently if everyone needs a potty break. Is gently reminded they are adults and the term "potty break" is for children.

-Leaves the snack stocking, fast food order gathering and navigating to Toshi.

-Many recollections and anecdotes accompany his driving. Loves to point out landmarks and beautiful scenery.

Hijikata Toshizo

-As a man who appreciates the solitude and quiet for accomplishing work... stuffing him in a car with the group is emotionally grating and his irritation threshold is low. Snappish in the car. (Repeats that it has nothing to do with motion sickness.)

-Riding shotgun helps him retain his sanity and navigating is a much needed distraction. (And, has nothing to do with motion sickness.)

-When it is his turn to take the wheel, he strives to make as little stops as possible. His overall goal is to retain their minimal funds and make their destination without an extra night's stay.

-Will yell that they just made a stop an hour ago and you should have peed then!

-Every stop requires him getting a coffee. Man hardly eats when on the road. His destination is his focus. He runs on caffeine. (And aspirin.)

Todou Heisuke

-He knows so many car games. Looked up car games just for this trip. Just as his energy makes him the Master Host at parties, he is the Master Entertainer in the car. It's an opportunity to bond with his friends and he is so stoaked for it.

-Only person who doesn't need a power nap. When surrounded by snoozing bodies, he uses the time to talk to Kondou-san and Hijikata-san for some catching up and life advice. Looks forward to this moment just as much as the rest of the trip.

-If no one is interested in a round of Twenty Questions or what have you, he will pull out his Switch. Willing to play alone, but he'd much prefer to Smash with his buddies. Brought extra Joycons. He's also willing to lend it to anyone bored.

-His optimism is never dowsed by any circumstances that arise. If there is a flat, he's willing to get help, call for assistance, or grab a jack. If there is traffic, has ways of entertaining everyone. Willing to dart into a gas station and get snacks. Happy to share fun, food or drink.

-He is also the master of music. Whether it is changing radio stations to playing his spotify playlists for the whole car, he picks the best tunes. He has a roadtrip playlist just for the journey. He collaborated with everyone, just to make sure that no one is left out. Unfortunately, this also exposes him to be griped at after so many songs grind Hijikata-san's nerves. How was he supposed to know there was a limit to Baby Metal songs? Wonders why Souji asked for so many... or, was it the fact that everyone was singing powerballads at the top of their lungs?

Okita Souji

-Speaking of Souji, please entertain this one in the car. He may not have bubbly enthusiastic energy like Heisuke, but this one has a capacity to make serious trouble when cramped into a car and bored. Chaos energy should never be contained without distractions. Everyone knows how unfunny it is to be stuck in a car with a cranky Souji. In order to avoid hair pulling, blame games and relentless button pushing, everyone does their best to keep him conversational if nothing else can be done. Gumny worms are a last resort.

-Thankfully, Souji also has the capability to take three power naps in the car and still arrive at the destination tired. However, no lap or shoulder is safe. Someone will be used as a pillow. If he has opportunity to rest on Chizuru's lap specifically, he will do so. Without permission. Declares it is because she doesn't stink like a man and women are just softer. Grins smugly to himself for the longest while as the car goes silent.

-He will ask "are we there yet?" Several times. He can see it clearly marked on the GPS how many miles they have left. That doesn't matter to him. If he and Heisuke start singing "are we there yet?" it guarantees Hijikata-san will snap and offer him a chance to drive. It's an absolute ploy to snag some Kondou-san time. Plus, it means the Oni can take a power nap. Not that Souji would set that up because he cares or anything. Don't get the wrong idea.

-Some moments he prefers to play games on his phone or take photos of the scenery rushing by. Souji doesn't mind staring out the window and thinking. He can wall himself off for introvert time, even shoved into a car. Headphones in, people out. Neko Atsume ensures no one will ask him questions or request he share the gummy worms. Those are his gummies. Kondou-san bought them.

-Asks for a milkshake at fast food stops. Sees how far he can go until Hijikata-san caves. "I don't want food. I just want a milkshake." (Only shares with Chizuru.)

-He likes to point out funny road signs and city names. So, so many puns with the Baka Trio.

-Souji is secretly a whole lot more excited to travel than he let's on. Plus, this group is his family. He can do a little better than tolerating everyone. He has a captive audience and is content to ride as long as he is included. Given the infectious level of cheer with the Baka Trio in the car, he might even sing along with them or goof off more than usual. He might even find it in himself to be helpful with getting snacks and drinks along the way.

Saito Hajime

-This man was prepared, packed and ready to go before anyone else. He made a checklist of everything he could need and anything that could be overlooked, checked it over three times and helped to pack the car and ensure what would be needed was accessible.

-He rose early to prepare himself and help others be prepared. He helped Souji and Heisuke pack. He took his motion sickness pill and has a large thermos filled with piping hot green tea. He also made a thermos with coffee for Hijikata-san (sugary, but black.)

-Saito has his headphones in often, but the volume low in case he is addressed. He may listen to soothing music and read a book on the history of katana. Reading in the car cuts the anxiety of being stuffed in a tin can at high speed with little wiggle room. He is grateful for the moments Souji steps in to block the extroversion chaffing his introvert soul.

-He brought a neck pillow to rest, but if he naps on anyone's shoulder he will apologize profusely. There are less tasks to focus on while riding and because this man works so hard without quite enough sleep, he will doze off. Thankfully, Souji has a pretty cozy shoulder.

-He is glad to step out and stretch his legs during a pit stop. Gases up the car without being asked. He will also wash the windows and Hijikata-san has to gently stop him from washing the entire car. Requests to drive through a car wash at the earliest convenience. Cuts a glare at Souji when he says he likes the mud. If Chizuru goes in to use the restroom, he will escort her. She needs protecc.

-Happiest when there is a beautiful rainbow or a lovely sunset on the horizon to admire.

Nagakura Shinpachi

-"Hey, do we have any snacks?" The main reason they have snacks is to keep him fed.

-This is the guy who sees the museum billboards or natural formations and requests they stop and take a look. Grumbles when the Vice Commander reminds him their budget is already tight, or they would have flown. They reach a middle ground once Hijikata-san promises they can see a museum once they get there.

-Will jokingly bemoan that they can't just drink in the car. Sano will give him a light scoff.

-Definitely will play on the Switch. Loves defeating Heisuke just to aggravate him and ask him if he needs a break from his overpowering gaming skills. This only makes Heisuke all the more pumped to win.

-"Hey, do you guys remember that time when..." What better way to pass the time than to rehash the good times? Has a funny story about practically everyone. Souji and Hijikata-san both threaten him should he begin to tell the stories they expect him to. He quiets down for a bit, only to begin a political discussion. Doesn't notice when Saito and Souji put in their headphones.

-The most vocal about restaurant requests. Would rather have a hearty meal than fast food, but orders two meals if that is their only option.

-You know what is really fun? Singing AT THE TOP OF YOUR LUNGS! Encourages Chizuru to join in. Makes a puppy face until she relents.

Harada Sanosuke

-This man is an adult. Astute. Considerate. Well-mannered. Stuff him in a car with Heisuke and Shinpachi? That erodes into fun, goofing off time. Dance in the car? Sure! Bad singing contest? Oh, yeah!

-Still, he offers a hand to Chizuru to lead her out of the car on pit stops. Makes sure she is comfortable in the car.

-He did bring headphones for a moment's peace. Politely asks Saito to borrow his neck pillow for a nap. "Shinpachi, Heisuke. I'm going to sleep now. I'm tired. I don't want to play, I want to rest. I'm warning you both, if you touch me, I won't hold back. I'll knock your head off. Souji, that includes you, too."

-If all the chaos energy becomes just a tad too much to bear, he will lean towards the front and ask for a driving shift.

-On the whole, he is present to chat, help when asked and always aware of Chizuru needing just a little more tenderness than their pack of wild wolves.

-He might also text pictures to Shiranui of city names or cool sights. Smirks a little at the replies. When Shinpachi asks who he's texting, he doesn't give specifics. "A friend."

-He tries to avoid the role of peacemaker in the car, expecting everyone to behave. However, if necessary, he will wip out that big brother attitude and quell the situation. He isn't afraid to remind any of them how they are behaving in front of Chizuru. Is it a dirty move? Maybe. Does he care? Not really.

Yukimura Chizuru

-She's in a car with seven men. She did have nerves before entering, but mainly about how she would fit in with such a tight knit group.

-Her helpful attitude is appreciated by all. She finds herself being handed candies, given a pat on the back or a thank you to her face. She blushes happily about it all.

-She helped arrange luggage so they had optimal room. She appreciated all the strong men who were willing to help pack. It gave her great encouragement when they asked her give them insight.

-She has the tiniest of all the bladders. She is going to make all the pit stops she can. She does marvel at how well they all work together, despite being such different people.

-She gets dragged into so much silliness. She tries her hand at playing some video games with Heisuke, singing along to songs, any of the car games played and laughs at a lot of the antics in the car.

-Like Saito, she will help without requested. She sometimes gets snack or food orders from everyone to make the information short and accessible to Hijikata-san.

-She did bring some headphones, a book and the notes of thoughts on her phone to entertain herself. She doesn't need it so much as she expected. She loves to window gaze, take in the sights and spend time with them all. Road trips just feel like family to her.

#hakuouki #hakuoki #hakuouki headcanons #road trip #sorry for the absence #hope you enjoy

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daughters-and-winsisters · 5 years

Text

You placed the book back on the table, leaning back in your chair and letting out a deep sigh. Your eyes glanced over to Jack who was reading through the lore books intently, scanning the pages like there'd be an exam at the end. "Jack." You said, trying to tear him away from the books. He didn't even stir. "Jack." You said, only louder. His head began to turn, his eyes catching up as he finished the page, "Yes?" "We should do something fun." You stated. "What do you mean?" He asked, making you laugh. "I mean, you've never experienced normal teenage stuff. I know you can't exactly go to school, but you can do all the other stuff. You're living the dream of every teenager ever and you don't even know it. So I'm gonna show you what it's like to be a normal teen. What do you wanna do first?" Jack leaned back in his chair in thought before looking directly at you and proudly suggesting, "Homework." You slumped in the chair next to him, "You what?" "You said I've never experienced normal teenage things, like homework." "Okay, Jack. I meant fun things, if I wanted to do homework I'd just go help Sam out." "Oh..." "Tell you what, next time I get a piece of homework, you can try and help me, alright?" Jack's eyes lit up and he smiled, "Okay!" "But in the mean time..." You scanned the room, realising there was nothing but books and empty beer bottles, "come on." You said. He watched you stand up from your chair and put your jacket on."Where are we going?" He asked, still not putting the book down. Frowning, you closed the book for him and put it on the coffee table. "We're gonna go out, we're gonna find fun things to do, and we're gonna enjoy it!" You smiled, holding your hand out for him to take. Jack hesitated a little, but took it, allowing you to drag him up the steps of the bunker.

When you got on the bus into town Jack wouldn’t stop asking questions. “Aren’t we supposed to be researching? Sam said we have to know as much as we can about all the different monsters out there." "Jack!" You hissed, aware others could hear what he was saying. "Oh...sorry...but shouldn't we be training at least?" "There is nothing wrong with taking a break." You insisted. You felt sorry for him, he was technically two years old, but is appearance made him seem like a twenty-something year old with no life experience. Jack was practically a brother to you and you felt as though you owed him a good time as a teenager, rather than as a Hunter. "A break. You mean like watching Netflix?" Jack tilted his head a little, making him look almost like a puppy. "No no no. Don't get me wrong, Netflix is a Godsend, but I mean legit fun things. The adventure starts here." You grinned at him, pressing the bell for the bus to stop and slinging your backpack over your shoulder. Jack smiled and followed after you.

Hours later, after racing around town, going in every shop and down every alleyway and over every bridge, you both ended up at the mini golf place. You were winning, but decided to "miss" a few shots to make the game more of a competition. Jack took his turn, taking a moment to look around at all the different people there were. A family of three, another of eight, a couple, a group of friends and a guy on his own who seemed to be having the most fun out of anyone. "Thank you, Y/N." Jack smiled, making you smile back. "You having fun then?" You chuckled. "I am!" He grinned, "I didn't know there were so many different types of coffee...and the fairground rides that looked like deathtraps were surprisingly fun!" You laughed, remembering how hard it was to drag him on The Waltzers. "Okay, after this, we can do the ultimate teenage move." "Which is what?" He asked, handing you your golf club. You took a step forward, lining up your shot before putting. The ball rolled into the hole and you smiled, looking at Jack, "Duh, a house party! A friend from schools having one tonight while her parents are away and she said I can bring whoever." Jack looked reluctant. "Come on, Jack. It'll be fun! I won't force you to go, but there's nothing scary about them, I promise. It wont' be that many people, anyway." "Alright." "Oh!" You added, "And don't tell Sam and Dean it's a house party. They'll freak." "You mean...lie to them?" "Not exactly...just don't tell them everything."

"Where have you guys been?" Dean asked as you and Jack headed down the steps."We had an awesome day!" Jack said, not exactly answering Dean's question. "You did?" Sam asked, glancing at you.Jack was eager to recite your day in great detail to your brothers, making them smile proudly at you. "I'm knackered though," You said, grabbing an apple, "gonna head to bed. Oh, I found a case by the way. I'll send you the article, Sammy." You eyed Jack, shooting him a wink. "Yeah, sounds good." Sam nodded, "Night, bug." "Night, kiddo." Dean called as you turned the corridor to your bedroom.

The moment you were in you started looking through your clothes for an outfit. It was rare you had a chance to dress-up, having to always dress practically. You weren't exactly the most "girliest" of girls, but you still enjoyed the occasional chance to do your hair and makeup and rock an outfit that didn't make you look like a lumberjack.

Almost half an hour later, you had an outfit ready laid out on your bed. Seconds away from doing your makeup, you heard a loud shout."Y/N!" It was Dean. He sounded mad. "Shit..." You huffed, putting your cleanser back on your desk. This was not going to go well.

Reluctantly, you trudged to wear your brothers were waiting. Deans face had rage written all over it, whereas Sam’s was more concerned about what Dean would say to you, let alone anything else. “You wanna know something funny?” Dean snarled, kicking a chair out for you. You sat and said nothing.“Jack,” Dean continued, “seems to think that you’re both going to a party.” You glanced at Sam who didn’t show any sign of helping you. “De-“ “And that’s not all!” Dean cut you off, “He also seems to think that this hunt of yours is a way to get us out for the night. Now why might he think that?” He leaned forward, his brows raising to a sly smirk. You sunk into your chair, not sure what to say. “Y/N,” Sam’s voice was softer than Deans, but somehow carried a similar angry tone, “it’s different for you two. I mean, you’re hunters. And Jack’s not even human. You have to think about these things. You’re smarter than that, sweetheart.“ “Yeah but we’re not just hunters,” You looked your brothers in the eye, “Jack doesn’t know what it’s like to be normal! And yeah maybe i don’t know what it’s like to be unaware of the things that are out there, but I know how to be a teenager and Jack wanted to do something fun for a change!” Your shout made the brothers share a look. You whispered, “He was happy. I was happy. We felt normal. Why’s that so bad?” “Because you wanted to send us away on some wild goose chase so that you could go to some stupid house house party!” Dean snapped. “It’s not stupid to want to be normal!” You shouted back, standing up from the chair, “The only reason I didn’t ask was because i knew you’d both say no! So excuse me for trying to show my brother what it’s like to have fun! I just wanted Jack to feel as normal as he could because I know what it’s like to feel different...”

Dean’s face had dropped during your speech and Sam had gone quiet. Neither knew what to say. “You can’t go,” Dean said firmly, “but next time I’ll consider it. If. IF. You ask us first.” You smiled, “Thanks, De.” “Y/N we want you to have a normal life, but it’s difficult with what we do.” Sam smiles softly.“I know, Sammy. And for what it’s worth? I wouldn’t trade this life for a normal one.” “Hey, kid,” Dean started, “I’ve never seen Jack so excited to be normal. So keep doing what you’re doing, just less of this kind of crap and more mini golf.” You chuckled and thought about whether or not Jack was in trouble. “Are you gonna shout at Jack?” You asked. “Already have,” Dean huffed, “but believe me you’re in more trouble than he is.” “Yeah yeah, alright.” You swatted him away and left for your room.

“Y/N?” Jack asked, peering from behind your door. “Hey,” You smiled, “they broke you, huh?” “I’m sorry I told them. I got really excited and I’m not used to lying to Sam and Dean. I’m sorry I ruined it. I guess I’m not cut out to be a proper teenager.” “Are you kidding? Jack we did the most teenage thing possible.” “We did?” “Yeah!” “What’s that?” You grinned. “We got into trouble.”

I do not own these gifs Masterlist

Requested by anon Request: How about a headcanon with the reader trying to get Jack to experience teenage life: normal teenage things: partying, naps, homework, mini gold, legit fun things! And Sam and Dean (brothers) are just looking on really proud Okay okay I know this was a headcanon request but I loved the idea so I turned it into a written fic, I hope that’s okay!

(Tags after cut)

@nnoxygen @summerbee53 @lil-sister-winchester @itsrainbowunicornstuff @graceless-dragon @iamflanneltrash @clairedelalune @winchester-2301 @lavender-winchester @anarahma @mariahoedt @shewhoscreamssilently @livelikeawinchester @metaphysicalmisha @storyofawinchester @fandomsstolemylife00 @griff1ndor @mollykmccarthy @27bmm @archangelsandwarlocks @bea789 @imprettycool-i-guess @lovelife-tothefullest @jayankles @seninjakitey @stressedoutkitten @juneinthered @thyotakukimkim @susan-is-in-the-house @fountain-pen-of-youth @analisespn

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angrylizardjacket · 5 years

Text

Run to Paradise {Nikki Sixx} Part 20

20. i’ve seen america with no clothes on

Summary: The tour is coming to an end. Lola and Tommy cause trouble, Mick finds out why Lola reacts the way she does to fire, and everyone decides it’s for the best if they move out of their shitty apartment.

Warnings: NSFW-ish. Mentions of parental abuse (physical and psychological), drinking, drugs, and PTSD triggered by fire.

ragtag bunch of misfits: @starlalove @toofasttofallinlove @xrosegoldwolfx @obsessivesky @trpwthme @lovehelpmewrite @colsons-crue @marvelismylifffe @lilytalebi @glitterdreamsz @freddiessmallnipples @crazysaladchopshop @inthebackofmycarlaytheirbodies @dramatique-moi @missqueeniewrites @calspixie @aryssav @catsoo12 @sweetshutter @silvertonguedserpent @shamelessobsessions @lavenderbones22 @keepcalm-and-beyou @scarecrowmax @nicholeh7 @unknownoblivion

{masterlist}

Lola's got her savings in a set of ziplocked bags, in a dufflebag, also stuffed with underwear and socks, that she keeps at the bottom of her suitcase. Thousands in cash that the others still don't seem to be aware of. And she still doesn't know what to do with it. The others have no such trouble; Vince buys the fastest car he can get his hands on, a cute little red thing with an uncomfortably small back seat, and all four of band members are looking at moving out of their shitty, shared apartment once the tour ends. They spend more on drugs and booze and girls than Lola's collectively ever had in her life, and she revels in being a part of it.

She can't remember half the shit she gets up to with the boys, just flashes;

"I'm bored." / "Where's my bass?" / "Dude, someone called the fucking cops!" / "Come help me throw this TV out the window!" / "You're on my hair!" / "That's so cool! Write that down, it could be a song!"

And maybe, just maybe, she considers Ozzy might be right, that the drinking and drugs might be fucking her up; in the moments between waking and sleeping, in the mid-morning light with blurry eyes she thinks there's people watching her. She can ignore it, she can ignore it all her life if she has to, people have always been watching over her. Maybe if she opens her eyes again, it'll be Doc, here to pull her to her feet, into the next day, or it'll be whoever she was with the night before, trying to move around the room without disturbing her. Maybe it'll just be nothing. A figment of her imagination.

But if she closes her eyes and goes back to sleep, she doesn't have to worry either way.

Sometimes she misses their grubby, gutter punk roots, but she's content enough replacing one brand of reckless hedonism for another, and she's never at a loss for a good fight. The band fought each other when things got boring and the drugs were running low, or they fought with Doc when they were feeling particularly rebellious. Mostly they fought with people in bars, or clubs, or people who looked at them funny, and Lola was right there beside them.

They had their fair share of assholes who consider the band to be a bunch of posers, and more than a few times during the tour, Lola found herself more than a little bruised. Once she disappeared for a whole night, and came back the next morning with a broken nose and a shit eating grin.

"You should see the other guy."

To Doc, more often than not it was like herding cats, and for all the good Lola did for the band, she was also right alongside them when Nikki was smashing lights in the upscale hotel they were staying in, all but cackling with laughter as Tommy sprints down the halls, terrorizing the other guests in his underwear.

"Lola! Lo-" Vince and Nikki had swerved into Doc's room, and tried calling her over to take refuge. Lola, wearing only her spiked, black bra and leather pants, grins, shaking her head and breathing hard. There comes another crash from the hall behind them.

"What did you idiots do now?" Doc groaned, as Lola took off down the hall, bottle of jack in hand, baggie of cocaine tucked haphazardly into her bra. The manager took off down the hall as Tommy came into view, tailed by two police officers.

Lola leads Tommy into a dingy stairwell, where the cops don't seem to follow. Later they'll find out that Mick had taken the fall since he managed to fit Tommy's description - pale as all fuck with long black hair - and was none too happy about it, but for now, they don't worry about it. The stairwell leads to the roof and they get fucked up and fuck under the stars until Doc finally finds them with Nikki and Vince in tow.

"Jesus, put some fucking clothes on - the other guests are complaining about the noise you were making," Doc's whole face is wrinkled in discomfort, while Nikki and Vince are practically falling all over themselves with laughter. Lola's stretched out, stark naked, looking like she's taking a nap, while Tommy's pissing off the side of the building.

"It's European," Lola replied breezily.

"It's night, you're not sunbathing, put on your fucking pants," Doc snapped in response, before his voice softened ever so slightly, "should you see a doctor?" He's seen Lola naked more times than he can count, but he always tries to avert his gaze, but here, under the moonlight, the bruises that litter her body stand out in the places that aren't tattooed.

"I'm alright, dude, it's fine," Lola snorted. She stood, stretched, comfortable in her own skin. She moved towards the pile of clothes by the door. "These two are from Tommy," she pointed to the ones on her collar, before identifying the rest, "I can't remember which are Nikki and which are from that bar fight in Cleveland," she shrugged, pulling on her underwear, "cards on the table, I don't remember getting the ones on my legs, but I think it was when I ran into the drum riser during setup yesterday-"

"But you don't know?" Doc asks, eyes wide.

"I was drunk! Sue me!"

"I could."

"But you won't," she grinned, before picking up her pants, though she paused with a Cheshire cat smile, "and these ones are probably Nikki or Vince," she kicked up a leg, drawing attention to the hickeys on her thighs. Doc looked like he'd rather be anywhere else right now; Lola felt absolutely no sympathy for him, he asked after all.

"I know it's idiotic of me to ask," the manager asked, as Lola pulled on her pants, "but can you try and keep these assholes in line for the night? I'd recommend somewhere childproofed, but I'm gonna set the bar low and beg that nothing gets set on fire." Casting his gaze to where Nikki and Vince had joined Tommy, starting a literal pissing contest off the building, it felt as if he was fighting a losing battle.

"Listen, you know I'm not good with fire, so I'll try my best," Lola nods as sincerely as she can manage, "but no promises." And with that, she went to collect her boys.

"And Lola?" Doc called out after her, and the dark haired girl turned with a chipper smile.

"Yes?"

"Don't forget your bra."

And with that, Doc headed off to do something about the headache that had come on very suddenly.

The only thing Doc can count on with Lola is that she'll do everything in her power to keep fires from being set. That was a precedent that had been set when she'd accompanied the boys when they'd set of a bottle rocket in a sleeping Mick's room, catching the curtains on fire. She'd watches with wide-eyed horror as the flames licked up the walls, and though the rest of the boys had left in a flurry of laughter, she'd been frozen, terror written all over her face. Mick had to pull her out of the doorway and down the hall as the fire alarms had been going off.

"Don't touch me! Don't fucking touch me!" Was the first thing she'd shouted once she'd been able to move again, trembling like a leaf. "Fuck you! Fuck off!" And Mick, who still had adrenaline pumping through his veins from waking up to his room on fire, doesn't know what to do as the woman is shedding her jacket and shirt quicker than he thought possible.

"Girlie, it's me, it's okay, we need to head outside-"

"Get away from me! Don't touch me!" And it's like she's not even seeing him, pulling the switchblade from her boot and holding it out with shaking hands. She doesn't even sound like her, voice angry and desperate and so painfully young. They can both still hear the fire raging in the other room, and people barrel past holding fire extinguishers.

"Lola!" It's Doc, voice firm, but the way he says her name has the skittish Lola reacting badly. He dodges where she throws her knife at him.

"Fuck you! I'm not staying here!" She hissed, voice flighty and panicked, before bolting.

Mick finds her sitting in the shallow end of the pool, arms crossed, still wearing her jeans and boots.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Mick asks, pulling over a chair and sitting by the edge of the pool, making no move to get her out.

"No. Fuck off." But it's her, it's all her, Lola who fights and fucks and not the Lola who panics and runs from fire. "Did I throw a knife at Doc?" Mick hums in confirmation. "Why the fuck do you even put up with me?" She snorts, smirking, though it's humorless.

"Don't have a choice," Mick answers bluntly, and Lola appreciates his honesty, but it stings a little. Mick sighs for a moment before conceding, "and I do actually like you, girlie, Doc may not see it, but you do those boys a world of good."

"They're gonna be the death of me." Lola sighed, sinking a little further into the water.

"Probably."

A long silence stretches between them, and eventually Mick clears his throat, trying again.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" He asks. Lola's quiet, but it's not hostile this time.

"Do you really wanna hear about it?" She asks. Mick is quiet when he tells her that anything that he'd like to know what had fucked her up enough to throw a knife at their manager, and she can't help but laugh at that.

"When I was seven, my dad left without telling anyone, left mom to clean up the paperwork for his restaurant, for his whole fucking life with us, and she never forgave me." At this she gives pause, and as Mick processes what she's saying, his expression turns uncharacteristically shocked, "She always said it was my fault, you know? I was kind of a shitty kid, sort of lazy, a shit piano player, even though she spent so much money on lessons. I never blamed dad, I just... I knew I needed to be better; there was always this thought of 'if I was a better kid, he'd come back'. That's what mom used to say."

"That's fucked, Lola, a seven-year-old isn't responsible for a parent leaving; all kids are a bit shitty and lazy and-"

"Yeah well, mom kept this sort of shrine for him, like candles and shit that she always kept lit, photos and stuff, to show him we didn't forget about him if he ever came back," Lola sniffles a little, rubbing angrily at her eyes, "and it took me years to realise that the only reason he never came back was probably because of me, I was a shitty kid, then a shitty teenager, and I kept sneaking out and mom hated that, and she was really strict, but it's only because she wanted me to be my best, but- fuck, I don't know. I know she's crazy. Looking back I can see she was controlling as shit, but at the time it- it made sense. She just thought she was doing what was best. And I was never good enough. So I tried to leave, make it easier for everyone." She's crying now, tears streaming down her cheeks as she speaks, "but I was my mother's biggest mistake, and she couldn't let me go. I didn't mean to knock the candles, she shoved me into the shrine, and my backpack- I didn't mean to."

"Lola..."

"And she held me there, yelling 'How could you? How could you try and run like he did? How dare you ruin his memory like this?'" Her accent was thick, as she relived the moment and her mother's anger. The moment broke, and she sobbed, burying her face in her hands, "I was on fire, Mick, I was burning and she- she-"

Mick, despite his age and the pain that sits heavy in his bones, climbs fully-dressed into the pool beside Lola, wrapping her up in a hug. He's never been good at feelings, never been good at comfort, had always been adamant that people should work through their own shit in their own time, but somehow Lola had started to make more sense from this one story alone; her aversion to fire, her irritation when Doc gave her orders. Sometimes he'd questioned her work ethic, why she'd work so hard for so little recognition, but from the sounds of it, she'd really taken her mother's words to heart, and despite everything she'd gone through, she still loved her father and wanted to make him proud. The guitarist's heart ached for her, just a little.

"I'm sorry," Lola's voice is quiet.

"Don't apologise, girlie," Mick said, his voice gruff but soft, rubbing her back gently. She rested her head on his shoulder, still sniffling, letting herself find peace in the moment. Mick wonders if he should get one of the others, probably Nikki since he'd known her the longest, though all of them knew Lola's aversion to fire, yet they'd still had her tag along. It didn't take him long to realise that none of them knew why she was so adverse to fire.

From then, whenever Lola was in charge, no fires were to be set; because Lola would freak out, Mick would knock out whoever's fault it was on her behalf, and Doc didn't enjoy having knives thrown at him in general. That being said, Mick gave him a bullet-point summary of why Lola had reacted the way she did, and Doc was gracious enough to forgive her.

Back in the present, on the roof, Tommy was pulling on his underwear, and the others were arguing about which strip club to go to, and Lola was drinking whiskey from the bottle with a grin.

"Vince, my man, what are we gonna do with Miss Gone here? Running off and making noise complaints with our drummer," Nikki slung an around around her as they walked through the halls of the hotel to Tommy's room so he could at least find some pants before they hit the town. Nikki pinches her cheek when she laughs, and Vince's arm wraps around her waist as he falls into step beside the two of them.

"Really, she's a terrible influence," he grins, pinching at her hip, and Lola seems a little giddy from all the attention, "but the way I see it, we can do whatever we want with her."

"Is that a promise?" Lola grins sharply, and it's all Nikki can do to laugh.

Lola's always just sort of gone along with whatever the others were doing, at least at night. She's found herself at home in countless sleazy strip joints, B-list celebrities thrilled to have a rock band partying with them, and shitty motel rooms getting high with groupies and dealers alike. During the day she's usually either trying to work off her hangover by exercising in whatever the nearest gym is, or stealing whatever's not nailed down wherever the band is required. She doesn't think much about her future in LA until Vince brings up that he'd bought a house.

The tour had been going well enough that the label was practically funneling them money, and Doc keeps handing Lola checks that she keeps putting in the ziploc bag with the rest of them, which she still carries around with her. She's aware that she should probably open a bank account at some stage, but she's not exactly sure how.

"A house? Like a whole fucking house?" Lola's incredulous where she's sitting in Nikki's lap at a bar after a show. Her hair's a mess and her makeup's streaking a little, but she's beaming with pride.

"Not just a house, a whole fucking mansion," Vince grins, his arm around two different groupies. Tommy's somewhere in the crowd, sans shirt probably, but he can take care of himself.

"Holy shit; you're really moving up in the world," Lola mused, gaze a little glassy, "god, I haven't even really thought about our shithole apartment in ages."

"Tommy's been talking about getting his own place too, you should get a house or something, babe, move out of that cockroach infested hell hole." Vince grins, and Lola pouts, playing at being put out by the suggestion.

"Oi, I like our hell hole," but she breaks out into a grin, "I dunno, I hadn't thought about it, I guess. It's probably a good idea." Instead of looking to Vince, she finds herself turning to Nikki, who's zoned out, his hand on her thigh, the other holding a bottle of whiskey.

She brings it up on the tour bus the next day; Nikki's sitting at the back with his notebook, poring over some lyrics for a song he's working on, and Lola had been laying with her head in his lap. The tour only has a few stops to go, and when she considers what happens next, all she knows is that at the very least, Nikki is there with her. The other boys are of course there too, but they're getting places of their own, and she and Nikki have lived together for years before they even came into the equation.

"Do you think we should get, like, a fancy Hollywood mansion or something?" Lola asks, and Nikki's eyebrows raise in surprise, moving his notebook so he could see her face, see her looking thoughtfully up at him.

"What?"

"When we get back to LA, we should move into a place that's less, ah," Lola pauses for a moment, smile turning amused, "less condemned, probably."

"I figured you'd get your own place," Nikki admits, and Lola frowns a little, bright mood dampening, "we don't need to keep living together, you don't have to keep paying the rent for me."

"I figured we'd buy a place, you dumbass," Lola laughed, "between us we've got enough to buy a small country, I thought a house wouldn't be off the table." But her smile fades, "but if you don't wanna live with me anymore that's fine too, we've spent more than enough time in close proximity, I get it if you want space or-"

"You know," Nikki says with a slight smirk, reaching down to card his fingers through Lola's hair, "when we ran away to LA together, I honestly never in a million years thought it would come to us talking about buying a house together." He admits. Something in Lola's chest grew warm at his words, and she smiles softly up at him.

"So that's a yes? We're cool to keep living together after the tour?"

"Lo, it's a 'yes, we'll start looking at houses and shit when we get back to LA'."

#nikki sixx #nikki sixx imagine #nikki sixx x oc #Vince Neil #Tommy Lee #tommy lee imagine #vince neil imagine #the dirt #the dirt imagine #motley crue #motley crue imagine #the angry lizard writes

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septic-dr-schneep · 6 years

Note

Would JJ and Chase ever switch roles when it comes to who takes care of who? Like for example, Chase has been working overtime so when they both finally have time to hang out, Chase falls asleep hugging JJ or smth, and JJ has to be in charge of actually putting Chase in bed 'w'

Welp, they have now! :D Let’s see how well Jamie handles it!

JSE Fanfiction - Steeping Senses

It hadn’tescaped Jameson’s notice that Chase was working much longer hours than usual.His workday generally consisted of filming stunts for the morning and thenspending the rest of his time at the office, editing with his crew. Sometimesthe time for the stunt work ranged anywhere from five to seven hours, but aftertaking a break this past week for a particularly bad depressive spell, thevlogger was doing his best to catch up with his schedule and bring his viewers twice the amount of content to make upfor his absence.

“You mustget back into swing gradually,Chase!” Schneep warned sternly at breakfast. “It does not make sense to strain andexhaust yourself as soon as you’re back on your feet!”

Chase hadsimply offered him a rueful smile in return. “If I’m back on my feet, what elseam I s’posed to be doing but making up for the time I wasn’t?” he’d questioned.Schneep had been too startled by the question to offer a response before Chase glancedat his watch and leapt up from the breakfast table. “Speaking of which, I’mgonna be late. Yesterday’s footage should be ready to upload today. See if youcan watch ’em at some point and give me feedback, okay?”

Schneepseemed reluctant to do so, but Jameson was more than willing. He did watch them as they were uploaded andfrankly…they concerned him a little. He had taken part in a few Bro Averagevideos himself; he knew how Chase acted when he was filming—rather, he knew howhe was supposed to act. Did Chase realize how much of his usual drive and vigorwere missing?

Jamesonknew for certain that it wasn’t in his imagination when he checked the commentssection.

“Is it just me or does Chase look reallytired?”

“He seems like he’s doing a lot reallyfast…”

“Hey mate, it’s ok that you took abreak. We will wait for you!”

“If you ever need, or even just want abreak, you don't need our permission. You're still human, dude.”

When Chasegot home that evening, uncharacteristically quiet and scrubbing at his eyes,Jameson asked him if he was feeling alright.

“Yeah,buddy, I’m fine,” he answered immediately, almost absentmindedly, as he fishedaround in the kitchen cupboards for his favorite coffee mug. “S’just been along day.”

“Perhaps you should turn in,” Jameson suggested cautiously, hopinghis apprehension wasn’t too transparent.Chase didn’t seem to notice it.

“Nope, can’t.Stanley said when I left that once I’d had some dinner he wanted to get on aconference call with me so we can discuss what we’re doing this weekend.” Afterhe set up the coffee pot, Chase leaned against the counter to wait for it, hisjaw working in a certain fashion that Jameson expected was to stifle a yawn. “LikeI said, Jays, I’m fine.”

Coming outof his chair, Jameson shuffled closer, leaning past Chase’s arm and pointedlyflipping the switch—the one Chase had taught him would actually turn the coffeepot on. Chase seemed surprised for amoment at his obvious oversight but he offered no comment as the coffeegrumbled. Jameson stayed with him, resisting the urge to wring his hands. Thisought to be the time when Chase asked him about his day or told him an amusingstory about a member of the camera crew, but instead they just…stood insilence.

When thecoffee finished, Chase visibly bolstered himself, giving Jameson a tired smileas he took the mug from the counter—and the pot. As he started out of the room,Jameson blinked in disbelief, stepping forward enough to take ahold of hisshoulder.

“Wait! Aren’t you—shouldn’t you behaving a proper meal with that?” he questioned uncertainly.

“Ehh, I’mnot really hungry. Just coffee’s fine,” Chase shrugged it off. “I’ll be in thecomputer room. Don’t wait up if you’re tired, okay? G’night.”

“Good…night…” Jameson murmured, not bothering toproject his speech slide far enough for Chase to see as he left.

In the end,Jameson obediently went to bed. He didn’t wait up for Chase, but he did wake upthe moment he felt the bedsprings creak. Jameson kept his eyes closed despiteit, holding very still and listening intently for the sigh of relief at beinghorizontal at last. It didn’t come. After three minutes or so, JJ riskedlooking over his shoulder and found the other already asleep. He was like acandle, blown out as soon as his head touched the pillow.

The nextmorning was uncannily similar to the one before, as was the evening. It happenedagain the day after that and the day after that. The longer it went on, themore Jameson hated it and when he summoned his courage, he told Chase as much,but all he got was a regretful tousle to his hair.

“I’m sorry,Jem. I miss you during the day too,” he admitted. “Hey, text me aroundlunchtime, okay? I’ll try to say hi.”

Jameson didtext him, but he never answered. He must have forgotten.

Nightsprogressively got harder to bear—not just because he found it hard to wait forhim but because it was becoming increasingly difficult to stay with him. Jameson always had a fully furnished room of his ownto turn to, but he knew his da wanted and needed him there. It was most likelya side effect of losing his marriage, but Chase naturally slept better when hehad some company at night.

When he waswarm and had someone to hold, he’d explained, he was calmed. He could lie stilland sleep without any interruptions. Lately, however, to Jameson’s dismay, thatdidn’t seem to be the case. With increasing frequency the gentleman foundhimself jostled awake when a stray elbow ended up lodged in his back or theirfeet got tangled up. Chase tossed and turned much more than he used to.

Thismorning, he didn’t even take the time to finish his breakfast, wrapping whatwas left of his pop-tart in a napkin and jamming it in his back pocket.

“You’re notstaying?” Jackieboy didn’t seem particularly surprised, but Chase didn’t seemto notice how troubled the hero’s eyes were as they tracked his progress.

“I can’t stay,” Chase said shortly, barelyglancing at him as he slapped his cap on his head and heaved a backpack ofsupplies onto his shoulder, stumbling a little under its weight before headjusted. “I don’t know when I’m gonna be back; I’ll see you later.”

As soon asthe front door closed behind him, Jackieboy exhaled slowly, shaking his head.Schneep was already drumming his fingers against the edge of his coffee mug andMarvin was practically vibrating with tension.

“I’m worried for him,” Jameson blurted out.

“We allare,” Jackie assured him grimly.

“It’s beenmore than this last week now,” Schneep huffed, taking a resigned sip of thelittle coffee Chase had left in the pot. “He is not like Jackie and I, he isnot like Jack, he doesn’t cope with late night work—not well, at least.”

“I’m a right testament to that,” Jameson agreed, gingerly rubbing thesore shoulder that had received a particularly harsh elbow last night. “But…bebother it, what can we do toconvince him to stop?”

“I’ll holdhim down for a nap if I have to,” Marvin muttered agitatedly. “If he keepsdoing this, he’ll just end up right back in his slump, and trashing himselflike this is gonna make it a lot harderto get back out.”

Those wordsgnawed at Jameson for hours on end; the worry was all-encompassing. He couldbarely focus on his own daily activities. He didn’t want to see him fall, notagain, not so soon. When Chase had a run of his better days, he was one of thehappiest, most upbeat and enthusiastic people Jameson knew. He loved life. Watching him when he wasbedridden, never speaking, barely eating…it was like looking at an entirelydifferent person, a numb, hopeless little thing that had been torn from Chase’sbody like Peter Pan’s shadow.

The shadowsunder Chase’s eyes were disconcertingly deep now, Jameson noted, swallowinghard and tightening the fold of his hands as he waited. Chase didn’t seem tonotice he was there at first, nearly jumping out of his skin when he finallydid see him at the dining table.

“Whoa! Jem!”Cursing under his breath, he pressed a hand against his chest, taking asteadying breath as he swayed back. “What’re you doing up? You should be in bedby now, right?”

“I wanted to stay up for you,” Jameson answered, trying for a smilebefore allowing for a pause. “Oh, butwhat time is it?”

As he madea show of patting himself down, looking for his pocket watch, he peeked up atChase every so often, his chest tightening. The older Ego had stopped payingattention to him already, tossing his backpack aside and trudging toward thekitchen cabinet. He was probably going to get more of that blasted coffee.

“Good golly! It’s far later than Ithought!” heexclaimed, projecting his speech slide in front of the cabinet doors. “Now that you’re home, perhaps we should both retire!”

“I can’t,”Chase brushed that off predictably. Jameson was starting to hate those twowords. “Something went wrong with the file on today’s third video; I need towrangle that into shape after I’ve had some dinner.”

Jamesonhadn’t seen him actually sit down and eat a full night meal for a few days now.He was distracted from bringing that up, however, as he happened to glance downand spot the edge of the napkin peeking out of Chase’s pocket. Astonished, he rose,crossing the distance in three long strides to snatch at it, causing the olderEgo to lurch away.

“Hey, what’reyou—?”

“After you’ve had supper?” Jameson echoed incredulously, wavingthe folded napkin and its mashed, crumbling contents. “Why, you’ve still got your breakfastto eat! Did you have sustenance of anysort today?”

“Well,yeah. There was half a donut on the counter at the office,” Chase protested.

“Do you recall picking it up and eatingit?” Jamesonpersisted, tossing the mess onto the counter and planting his hands on his hipsexpectantly. Chase’s hesitation went on for a few seconds too long. Eyesnarrowing, Jameson closed the rest of the distance, interlacing his arm withChase’s and marching toward the couch. “Plantyourself here right this instant, sir! You’re taking a night off and that’sthat!”

Groaning,Chase pulled against his grip, making all the same objections he had theprevious several nights. “You don’t understand, Jem. I’ve got another conferencecall I need to make. All I need is a little coffee and I’ll be set. You shouldn’ttry to stay up when all I’m gonna be doing is work—”

“I’m not staying up for my sake, Chase! It’snot because I miss you or I’m sad I don’t get to see you; I’m worried! Why do you think I’m enforcingthis?” Jamesonsnapped. “The only reason you’ve stoppeddashing about like a madman for the past few days is because you’re tooexhausted to dash! Now you’re stumblingabout like a—a—” He couldn’t find a proper metaphor, steering Chase ontothe couch and then planting himself next to him, wordlessly simmering.

“Jameson,”Chase began slowly—and he’d used his full name, which meant he was finally paying full attention to him—“AllI want is to make up for lost time.”

“You’ve done more than enough. It’s a sorry excuse for battering yourself likethis for more than a week,” theyounger Ego shot back with a glower.

“Okay, then,”Chase conceded, his voice falling lower. “I want to make up for the time all ofyou had to spend taking care of me.”

“Well, think of it this way: we’ll haveto take care of you quite a while longer if you bring yourself to harm byoverworking!”

Chase didn’tanswer right away; it seemed as if it was taking him a while to process thewords. “I just…need to jump back into things when I come out of one of mydowns,” he muttered restively, looking anywhere but at his companion. “Or I’llstart thinking about things…how muchworse I make things for all of you by having these bad days…Hating myself for ’emmore than I already do.”

“…Da.”

“Yeah?”

Sliding hislegs up onto the couch in front of him, Jameson leaned, wrapping his armstightly around Chase’s chest and curling close to him. “The only way you could possibly worsen anything for me is by punishing yourself.”

Now that hewas looking at him this closely, Jameson could really see the exhaustion—the stress creases and the stray stubble andthe glaze in his eyes that didn’t belong. It created an ache in his chest that encouragedhim to tighten his grip, his fingers digging into Chase’s ribs in an attempt toforce him closer.

After afull minute, Chase relented, relaxing into his hold and heaving a breath thatruffled Jameson’s hair before looping his nearer arm around his back. Takingthat as progress, Jameson weighed further into him, getting comfortable, andChase huffed softly.

“Are yousure you didn’t miss me?”

“Are you sure you didn’t miss me more?”

“Yeah, Idid…” Despite the several cups of coffee he’d downed during the day, Chasecould feel another yawn lurking. He didn’t bother stifling it this time, blinkingtiredly as he pressed his cheek against the curve of his boy’s shoulder. Hishead didn’t want to stay upright anymore. “S’being all cuddly part of your plant’make sure I take the night off?”

“Yes.”

“Gotcha…”

There wasno need to elaborate on the rest of the plan; it was already in motion. Chase’seyes were flickering closed, his breaths evening out startlingly fast, andJameson stilled, waiting until the arm around his back slid limply down againstthe cushions.

Fortyseconds. All it had taken was forty seconds without pushing himself to keepgoing. Reaching back, Jameson took ahold of his fallen hand, maneuvering itaround his neck and tightening the grip he had around his waist. The fact thatChase wasn’t holding his own weight as Jameson pulled on him made standing astruggle; he was a little surprised that he didn’t jolt awake again as soon asJameson readjusted his grip, but it was a testament to just how exhausted hewas.

After aprecarious, wobbling journey down the dim hallway, Chase’s bed was a more thanwelcome sight. Jameson let Chase’s arm fall from his shoulders, hugging himcarefully around the chest until he could steer him down properly. From there thegentleman began working on untying his boots. Chase did stir somewhat then,twisting onto his side and allowing his hand to fall into the empty spacebeside him, as if he’d expected something to be there.

“I’m coming,” Jameson assured him kindly, though heknew he wasn’t heard.

As soon ashe’d pried his boots off and set them aside, he didn’t hesitate to burrowunderneath the covers and fill the space, allowing the other to shift his armhowever he cared to in his sleep. Sure enough, Chase’s fingers automaticallyfound the back of his nightshirt, curling loosely into it to keep him where hewas. As he leaned into the touch, Jameson stilled, straining his ears. He hadto hear it. None of this would feel quite as right as it ought to without it.

After a fewmore seconds, he could feel the last of the tension drain from Chase’s body inthe deep, drowsy sigh he’d been waiting for. Relief. Comfort. Jameson wasallowed his own breath of relief because of it, nestling close against him sothe steady, warm thump of his heart could lull him down slowly.

He had a delightfullycontented feeling that they would be sleeping in tomorrow morning.

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