#soldwrecked

[betterto-die-thanto-crawl]

So far, living the life of a cowboy was everything Jack had ever dreamt it would be. Sure, it was hard work, but growing up in New York had been hard work, too. He'd made it in New York, he'd make it here, too.

It really was something, though, settling down around a fire after a long day of hard work, watching as the sunset painted the sky like he painted canvases at home. It was tranquil, really, sitting in the stillness as the sounds of night settled in around them, with the lowing of the cattle just a short distance away.

He took off his hat and sat it by his side with a groan, running his fingers through his damp hair. He hadn't been at this long, though, and he still knew little about his companion, other than that they shared a name. He leaned back to lay flat on his back, twirling a piece of grass between his fingers as he looked up at the stars. "S-so... d'ya got anybody at home?" He tried to sound casual, even if his voice shook a bit. Not that he was nervous... necessarily... he just didn't want to make a mistake and mess things up with this cowboy before he'd even been able to befriend him.

@soldwrecked

#soldwrecked: jack twist #soldwrecked #cowboy time fuckers #santa fe dreamin': jack kelly

[cannotfly]

@soldwrecked's arthur donaldson sent: how long have you known?

there were parties every night. fireworks that made her eardrums rattle. even from across the bay, she could hear the excited shrills of a dance. but what she looked forward to most of all were the birds that were released. the way they fly into the moon made her wonder if she would be able to do the same thing one day. with such celebrations going on, she had the sinking feeling that it wasn't art behind it although he lived in that house. he didn't like parties the last time she knew him. it would be someone else.

it's foolish to be jealous of whoever this faceless person was. here she is, sitting on art's bed as if she always shares it with him. johanna isn't the person he goes to bed with every night. there's someone else. someone for the parties. it isn't exactly jealousy, she thinks. a mere curiosity.

❝ well, there's lily. i had to, well, assume that she has a mother. ❞ she swallows. ❝ are you married? i just never see a woman around here and i told pry -- you know that i don't pry into your things -- but there has to be someone else. i just . . . ❞ her throat clenches. perhaps, if johanna doesn't finish that thought she can live blissfully ignorant for the rest of her life. they both know that she wears the ring of another man on her finger. she can't help but wonder. ( rest of her life -- she said rest of her life instead of for the rest of this affair; she wants this to last forever, doesn't she? ) ❝ who is she? ❞

#we haven't even touched patrick yet hehe #*❈ ‣ have you decided it’s safer in cages‚ singing when you’re told? — ( interaction. ) #*❈ ‣ only we know what we’ve both been through‚ if i save you will you save me too? — ( v: great gatsby. feat. soldwrecked ) #soldwrecked #cheating tw #infidelity tw

[thewalkingmouthdavey]

❝ ... i guess i'm just scared of losing you. ❞ - ( jack ) @soldwrecked​

       Davey BLINKS.

   Admittedly, it takes him a moment to take in what Jack’s saying, not because he’s not listening, but it doesn’t make much sense to him. If anything, Davey is the one with abandonment issues in this...friendship? relationship? ( he doesn’t want to think TOO HARD about that term ), though he’d never say it out loud.

    “Jack.” He finally says, with a beat passing between them. “Why would you ever LOSE me?”

#v: tbd #soldwrecked

[avilionea]

@whatsbehindthefacade && @soldwrecked

She never expected things to be this loud. Alma Jr stood with her sleeping bag in her hands, having just pulled it out of the back of the truck.

Most outings with her dad were quiet ones unless Francine came along. Frannie liked to talk, but Frannie was sick. She was always sick. It was just easier for her to stay home with her mom. Jr. wondered how sick she was this time of the weekends got switched around like this. Still, it was nice to see her dad.

This however, she didn't expect. His camping trips were always private. Jr. learned not to ask about them. She'd tried once last year when she wanted to come stay with him permanently, she was much happier with her dad, but things didn't pan out the way shed hoped they would.

If there was a frown on her face it was hardly noticeable beyond the way her brows furrowed together as she took in the new finished setup for camp.

"Daddy," she started quietly, looking over the campfire pit, the equipment being unloaded from their truck and the Twist's, and lastly, the single tent smack dab in the middle of it all. She stood like a stone looking at that tent.

She didn't point out that there was one tent. She didn't point out how that made her nervous and how she would need some privacy. The nature of teenage girls made for some complicated situations.

Instead she said "Should I just put this back in the truck?" It's the most she'd said this entire time. She'd gotten by on a handshake and a few nods of her head thus far. She was like her father in that. Being quiet was safer.

#whatsbehindthefacade #soldwrecked #c; alma jr #V:?

[whatsbehindthefacade]

@soldwrecked asked: “This must be what it’s like to have kids” / jack kelly to racetrack

"I'm pretty sure it counts as having kids, don't it?" Race chews a little on the end of his cigar, glancing across the bunk room. It's taken them an hour, but they've finally gotten all the littles down to sleep, and honestly he's about ready to hit the hay himself. Walk the streets all day selling papes, sure thing, it don't bother him much, but wrangling a bunch of under tens and trying to get them to sleep? That's the real killer apparently. Now he can only hope that they'll actually stay asleep too.

Stifling a yawn, the younger boy scratches at the nape of his neck before looking to the elder, curls falling into his face. "If any of 'em tries to get up, I'm tying 'em down." With what, he hasn't figured out yet, because it's still cold enough out that they need the thin sheets for sleeping under, but he's sure he'll think of something.

#soldwrecked #c: racetrack higgins #v: carrying the banner

[thisshadeofred]

@soldwrecked's Jack Kelly asked Mac: "Why did you help me?"

"You're Manhattan, you're not evil. Even if I don't like you I don't want you to get fuckin' pulverized." Mac wraps the bandage tightly around his wrist. They don't have much in the way of wraps- Splint's arm needs most of any they can gather- but she can't leaving him bleeding on her turf. Well, not when she didn't cause the bleeding. "The Navy boys are ruthless. Don't matter who you are." She pulls the bandage maybe just a little too tight. "Don't go telling Spot Conlon I helped you out though, you hear? He'll just use that as another reason to call me soft and shit."

#v: a tale of two brooklyns #c: mac #soldwrecked #jack:mac #Leader Mac got a potty mouth

[trailnapped]

“I thought I might stay over tonight.” / alexey

BARBIE (2023) PROMPT

it's raining cats and dogs ... emily's heard that phrase, but she doesn't really understand it. either way, daddy is out in the downpour, corralling the stupid ox into the barn. the large creature refuses to budge from its spot, absentmindedly stuffing its face with grass like he has all the time in the world. mama is staring at the window at her husband, shaking her head sympathetically, internally debating if she should join him in this torrent.

this leaves emily to her lonesome with their guest ... at least, she imagines herself alone. peter better butt out and mind his own business if he knows what's good for him, thank you very much!

"stay?" emily repeats, fighting the natural, raising pitch of her voice. she glances around again for good measure, makes sure that she hasn't blown their cover of privacy. the blonde clears her throat, and slightly dips her chin as a faint blush tinkles her cheeks. "ohhh ... you would have to ask my mama, but —" she giggles, gently bites the edge of her bottom lip and takes one step closer.

"i hope that you do. i could show you to your room for the night."

#♡ㅤ006.ㅤANSWERED. #♡ㅤVERSE.ㅤPOST CANON. #soldwrecked

[cagesings]

@soldwrecked / art sent: ❦ - changing clothes facing away, showing off their back

book open in front of her, she almost doesn't notice when art comes inside. it's becoming a sort of rhythm for her to come over in the afternoons. if he's busy, she knows the code to get in so she doesn't have to wait outside. it only took poor art several attempts at convincing her for her to reluctantly agree to have his password ( the last thing she wants is to intrude ). to have a habit like this again is nice. especially when it's with someone. johanna doesn't do well on her own. when she comes to reality and realizes she isn't alone any longer, she looks up at him.

❝ how did your practice go today? ❞ closing her bed and setting it back in her little purse ( since he has quite the schedule she's learned to take a book over with her; now the book just lives in her bag, going wherever she does ). ❝ i thought about calling you to make sure i was still welcome -- ❞ she never makes calls. not to anyone else. ❝ but i figured you wouldn't be able to pick up anyway so i didn't so i hope you don't mind that i - ❞

and he's shirtless. johanna freezes, eyes widening. oh, no. as soon as the world feels like it's unfrozen, she slams her hands over her eyes. she should not have seen that. in other contexts, she's seen him shirtless before yes, but that was for other reasons. she was looking over something or making sure his breastbone was broken after getting hit with a tennis ball or something strictly medical related. this is entirelly different. she saw him and infringed on his modesty and he'll hate her forever. she turns herself around.

❝ perhaps, you want to do that somewhere else? ❞ please do not change your shirt in your living room in front of me. ❝ or i can leave? i should leave. i'll go. ❞

#*❈ ‣ how is it that you sing anything? — ( interaction. ) #*❈ ‣ are you discussing or fussing; or simply dreaming? — ( v. modern ) #soldwrecked #she is not going to be able to last much longer

[dovefalls]

loosen your corset and have a drink. / riff

dark nails tap on the counter in sync to the beat of the music that surrounds the place. she does not know the name of the song, but it is a popular one these days. clemensia makes polite conversations with people next to her, but she is itching to return to her notes. law school takes up most of her days, and she has finally run out of excuses to refuse an invitation. ‘ you cannot stay cooped up for the entire term, ’ her friends will say. she most certainly can.

she returns her attention to the new voice that addresses her, a tilt of her head and a raised brow to answer him. “ are you buying ? ” it wasn't so much a playful response as it was a straight question. she supposes she knows how it seems, having not moved from her seat since she arrived, but she is rather content with her place at the moment.

#ˋˏ ~ her niceness excused a lot ~ ˎˊ ⎯ answered #soldwrecked #q.

[loudnclearspot]

🍳     :     ( SENDER )  makes breakfast for  ( RECEIVER ) (from jack kelly) / @soldwrecked

@soldwrecked

The sun is creeping in slowly through the front windows of the small ranch house. It's Sunday, the day to rest and simply be. Spot has to admit, she likes New Mexico. The work is different on the ranch she and Jack have been hired by than work in the city. They go into the city often enough to help sell off the products of the ranch, but there's a certain peace being on the land together.

She wanders out to the kitchen to see Jack frying up some eggs on their little stove. She wraps her arms easily around him, pressing a kiss to his neck. "Mmmm, good morning, love."

#lazy domesticity how i adore thee #also oops they already live together and have their best life in santa fe #v: santa fe #soldwrecked

[heygutlcss]

QUESTION PROMPTS

@soldwrecked ASKED: “ why are you looking at me like that? ” (JACK)

"You mean it?" If ever there was a look she could have given him, this one took the cake. She looked at him like the sun rose and set with him. Like he was the match to light her spark. If ever there was a woman in love, it was Graziella.

"You want to marry me?" a little small town nobody who had taped newspaper to the insides of her shoes to make them last longer. She had a crooked nose and she could never afford to get her hair properly dyed. She laughed to loud and dreamed of little nice things like butter knives and paper doilies and still sighed as if they were worth millions of dollars and therefore were beyond her reach.

"For real life?"

#ˢᵉᶰᵈ ᵃ ʳᵃᵛᵉᶰ ║ asks #c; grazi #V: BBM #soldwrecked

[warriours]

@soldwrecked

There was an old world quality to Cleon, he thought and moved like a bronze age king. Coney Island's own Ramses or Hammurabi. He looked suitably tired as he sat across from Riff in the Warrior's base, an abandoned warehouse the Warriors had made their base.

He didn't feel like he'd slept well since the night of the conclave where the leader of one of the biggest gangs had been shot. Cleon had been beaten to a pulp by Cyrus' gang who mistakenly believed he had shot Cyrus. Ajax had his nose and spent the night in a cop car. Swan kept talking about leaving New York, having taken up with some mouthy little bitch he picked up in Tremont. If he left Rembandt would likely go too, the best tagger Cleon had. And The Fox was dead too. The Fox's death stung the most, he'd been the diplomat of the group, useful because ddiplomacy wasn't always a talent Cleon possessed. He like Ramses was a warrior.

He sighed. "So you're the reason Ajax has been sneaking off to the west side. Guess I should have worried more about him than Swan always wanting to go see Bernardo's boxing matches," He said. "To be honest I didn't think he had it in him to come out. If you're going to run with my crew there are some things I don't tolerate. I don' want to hear you giving anyone shit about who they are."

#soldwrecked [riff] #soldwrecked #the rebellious genius [cleon]

[cannotfly]

@soldwrecked's arthur donaldson sent: [ montage ] receiver tries on clothes, and sender either approves or disapproves of each outfit with a nod or a shake of their head - reverse

when her hand trailed over the shirts sitting on his shelf -- the silk and satin and cotton and wool -- she wondered if she even had any clothes that were more expensive than this. johanna has to bite back a smile, all seriousness, as she watches art try them on for her now. she sits on the corner of his bed. dressed only in one of the shirts that fits more like an extremely short dress on her more than a blouse, she sits on the corner of his bed.

❝ hmm, i don't know about this one, mr. donaldson. ❞ a finger taps the corner of her lips. ❝ i think it's a tad too -- how do you say it? -- fantaisie for what we're going for. ❞ she pronounces it in a perfect french accent. the only time her french tutoring has ever come in handy for her. a coy eye gazes over the particular shirt he's trying on now. ❝ you're a bit overdressed, aren't you? i feel quite underdressed at the moment. ❞ she waves a finger in the air. ❝ next one, please! ❞

#look they get to be silly in this verse too okay #*❈ ‣ have you decided it’s safer in cages‚ singing when you’re told? — ( interaction. ) #*❈ ‣ only we know what we’ve both been through‚ if i save you will you save me too? — ( v: great gatsby. feat. soldwrecked ) #soldwrecked

[thewalkingmouthdavey]

❝ by your side is where i'm meant to be. ❞  - ( Jack ) @soldwrecked​

    Davey’s heart is beating SO HARD against his ribcage that he thinks he might actually be having a heart attack. ( Logically speaking he knows that’s not how a heart attack works, but the metaphor does, so he’s going to let it slide ).

    Calm down, he tells himself, that can still be mean in a friendship way.

    He doesn’t WANT it to, but he’s trying not to get ahead of himself, even though looking at Jack right now is hard, because what if it is? Jack’s always been an emotional person, and he’s not afraid to show how much he cares about his friends, both with words and gestures, and it’s part of what Davey loves about him.

     Oh no. “We do make a pretty good team, huh?” He finally manages, though his voice is a little shaky.

#soldwrecked #v: tbd

[2birds1song]

❛ i thought you’d like some company. ❜ / riff to katniss

* ➷  ─── ❝ thanks. was i making it that obvious? ❞ that she was drowning in being the most awkward at figuring out how to start something as simple as a conversation and probably so accustomed to being alone that she forgot she needs human interaction. it was no wonder she became so easily acquainted with the woods, it was a place made for zero talking. somewhere she could be herself at. and she was never alone, not with the nature or with the animals.

memes. » always accepting.

#soldwrecked #* ➳ ❁ ─── ☀ 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐎𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 ✧ » katniss everdeen.

[whatsbehindthefacade]

@soldwrecked asked: “ you good? “ / jack to race

The question is, admittedly, understandable. It's an hour after curfew, and he's just snuck in through the window, out of breath, hair dampened by the slight rain that has come on. He should have been back from selling ages ago, usually one of the ones willing to help put the littles to bed, but tonight he'd been nowhere to be seen, which had gained some pouts and grumbles from Splasher in particular, who had been rather aggrieved to not get to continue the story Race had been telling him.

Still, he's maybe (?) lucky that it's Jack that's caught him and not Finch. For someone who hasn't had one in years, Finch is remarkably good at being like everyone's ma. A little sheepish, Race rubs the back of his neck and offers a shrug. "Totally. Lost track of time. Poker night." Lies. Poker night is Thursdays.

#soldwrecked #c: racetrack higgins #v: the world will know