#★. ─── JACKSON RHODES : THREAD

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closed starter for GISELLE ( @overwhlcmed​​ ) location: jackson’s apartment… night time… chilly outside 🙂

˖ ✧ ★ ────────────   IT WAS DIFFICULT TO RECONCILE WITH THE IDEA THAT GISELLE HAD BEEN BACK IN HIS LIFE FOR A LITTLE OVER A YEAR NOW. it simultaneously felt like he had never left, and yet like it had only been a few weeks since she’d approached him in the corridors of her office building and he’d left more scars on her heart. things had changed, drastically, since last christmas, but they also felt exactly the same. the boundary line had shifted– away from the shy glances and soft touches that had constituted an uncertain something before, and instead towards the witty quips and easygoing closeness that defined a comfortable something now– but it was still there. despite the cracks that had formed, allowing them both to see between the bricks of the walls around his heart, they were still standing. the ghosts of the past still haunted them– from stanford to their reconciliation to the apology text message lighting up his phone on his birthday. the guilt stayed firm, keeping him from letting go entirely. it reminded him that no matter how perfect the moments seemed, HE wasn’t. his jagged edges could be covered with cloth for the time being, but it was only a matter of time before he mishandled them and accidentally cut her open in the process. 

        his resolve was crumbling, though ; the comfort with his solitude was like a long dead civilization. the longer they lived in this blissful false reality they had created, the easier it was for jackson to believe that the ghosts clinging to his shoulders could be shaken off. his past didn’t matter. the person he was, the people they were, didn’t matter. what mattered was this moment– watching giselle as she worked at stringing up a single strand of christmas lights around his kitchen window, his chin resting against his knuckles and the untouched tea now cold on the table in front of him. she hadn’t done much, just the lights and a stocking for dutchess hanging up behind the door ( something giselle insisted on for her, not him ), but it was more than jackson might have relented for anybody else. despite his complaints, looking at it now, they looked nice– though it was more than just the aesthetics. it was a reminder that he wasn’t entirely alone this year, that while last year she had only been comfortable decorating her space, this year things were better. maybe time did heal old wounds. his gaze only shifted away from giselle when duchess came barreling into the room, skittering across the fake tiles after the end of the wires that were dangling around giselle’s legs. it was then that he pulled himself from his half-asleep, dreamy daze and made any effort to move. 

       shifting from his seat, he picked her up from the floor, before dropping the little white cat onto the kitchen table. she offered him only a meow of protest, before her attention shifted towards hunting a pencil that was hiding in between the piles of books and screws and half-finished coffee mugs. jackson turned his own towards giselle. trying to stifle a yawn, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, hindering her movement entirely ; then he rested his chin against the crown of her head, and squinted at the new decoration ( probably the first new thing to enter the apartment since he had moved in. ) “ what is it about the sparkly little lights that say ‘ christ ‘ for people ? “ he questioned suddenly, raising one of his hands to gesture towards the lights. there was a sureness now in the way he crossed into her personal space ; although he was still poised to run like a startled animal, it was leaps and bounds from where they had been at this point a year ago : afraid that eyes lingering too long was crossing a boundary that they hadn’t discussed. now the way she leaned back into him felt comfortable, natural. in the quiet of his own apartment, there was no need for warning sirens. he was content to just be with her– no complications needed. “ granted– i’ve never read the bible, but i have a feeling that john, peter, mark and paul would not have included these on their list of birthday decorations for babies. sheep, though ? that was a necessity. “

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closed starter for EZRA ( @pinkpcnyclub ) location: spooky woods

˖ ✧ ★ ────────────   “ BOO ! “ jackson had gotten good enough at blending into the background of these kinds of things so that people didn’t pay much attention to him. he was grateful. he didn’t want the attention, usually, considering his game of standing back and acting the supporting role to those who did ( his brother, giovanni, luvena, sami ). and while some might have considered that boring, jackson thought otherwise— because when nobody paid any attention to you, it was easy to do this. reaching his hand out, he had grabbed a hold of ezra as the other man was wandering alone through the trees. he had followed him over here with the intention to scare him. he’d been amping the monsters in the trees up the whole afternoon ; if anything to just give ezra one good fright before the end of the evening. mean ? maybe. but once a pesky older brother, always a pesky older brother — even if he had no contact with those who were actually his family anymore and instead made the likes of bowie and lu and ezra deal with it. “ i’m surprised you’re still here. everyone’s been talking about ghosts and ghouls all night, once i lost you i was convinced you were a goner. “ he reached out to ruffle ezra’s hair out of place, before something clearly dawned across his features. he pointed his finger in towards ezra’s chest. “. . . but then again, i also saw your little freak friend around here too. i didn’t put two and two together until now, but makes sense how you’re still alive, if you were trailing your feet after them all night. any demonic cults out here would know they would be getting their hands full with that one. “

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OPEN location : ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

˖ ✧ ★ ────────────   ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHT FOUR was the number of reddish-brown leaves he had counted hanging off the tree above his head before he got bored and started to try to see if he could make out the stars scattered between them instead. as usual, jackson was present on premise─ much to his own chagrin─ but he was doing his best to stay ignored until it was a reasonable time for his to leave. so far it had worked. for the most part, besides standing only a short distance from a nearby fire, everybody had left him to his sulking alone. yet admittedly, the longer that he stood there, the more bored he got of it. footsteps echoing over the dead leaves that littered the dirt around him, jackson dropped his head just in time to catch someone walk directly into a overhanging branch. he masked his laugh with a cough, drawing his hand to run along his jaw. and even though he quickly dropped the grin, the way his eyebrows raised still openly displayed his amusement. he jerked his chin out towards them. “ better watch out. there’s a tree there. “ 

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closed starter for LUVENA ( @overwhlcmed​ ) location: you’ll NEVER guess

◦ 「 ☆ 」 ────────────  “ CAN YOU TELL your fucking cronies to leave me alone ? “ this was the first time that evening that jackson had caught luvena alone  —  not caught up in another conversation with the myriad of people who were here to celebrate her as the centre of attention ( something jackson was certain she was probably enjoying. ) despite the way he greeted her, dropping down into the chair beside her without invitation and slouching back into it, there was no real threat behind his words. he was a bit annoyed with her and bowie  —  he couldn’t yet prove that they invited giselle, since he hadn’t exactly talked to giselle about it yet, but he knew they did  —  but at the end of the day it was luvena’s birthday, and his plans of generally avoiding everybody until he was backed into a corner was going relatively well. ( so as long as he continued to ignore the feeling of his heart dropping to his stomach every time he ducked out of the room just in time to catch giselle’s confused stare following after him. ) “ i don’t know where they keep coming from, but i don’t want these fucking cat ears. “ reaching up to tug on one of the ears, he then readjusted them back into his hair, sitting up and glancing behind him as if one of luvena’s two roommates would appear just from the act of messing with them. 

      content with the idea that the twin demons weren’t going to miraculously appear behind them, he settled back into the chair once more. letting his head fall back against it, he stared up at the ceiling for a moment before talking so lu couldn’t fill the space with her useless questions and loud rambling. “ i swear to god i haven’t seen most of these people a single time in my life. where did you find them all ? paid actors pretending to like you ? or are thing one and thing two just out there inviting every person who passes on the sidewalk into your party ? “ 

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closed starter for EZRA ( @pinkpcnyclub ) location: kitchen 🔪

◦ 「 ☆ 」 ────────────  “ DID THEY GET you too ? “ slipping through the doorway into the empty kitchen in another escape attempt, jackson pointed to the ears currently positioned on ezra’s head. at some point along the way he had stopped attempting to force them off his own head and succumbed to his fate  —  the less he tried to make his own decisions, apparently, the less people he didn’t want to talk to tried to talk to him. as much as he hated the ‘ costume ‘ bestowed upon him, leaving it on his head was easier than the alternative. ( it had nothing to do with the fact that the last time tweedledee and tweedledum crawled out of the woodworks to put it back on his head he caught giselle laughing at the whole situation. he was avoiding her, remember ? ) “ they said i was supposed to be duchess. which is disservice to her and i think she’s gonna be pretty pissed off when she finds out. identity theft, and all that shit. “ 

    either way, there was some relief to know that he wasn’t the only one who looked utterly ridiculous. ( he might have even argued the perpetual puppy dog eyes ezra walked around with made it worse on him. ) tossing his can in the recycling bin, he grabbed a new one out of the fridge  —  and after closing it once, decided to open it once more to grab out a second for the other man standing in the kitchen with him. “ why are you hiding in here for, anyway ? “ bold words, but as jackson would continue to insist  —  he wasn’t hiding. he slid the second can down the counter. “ i think sushi and norman are hanging out in one of the bedrooms if you’re looking for an excuse rather than just kind of standing around like a creep. “ 

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closed starter for BOWIE ( @cherryflcvoured​ ) location: bathroom... the bathtub... 

◦ 「 ☆ 」 ────────────  JACKSON WASN’T HIDING. ducking from room to room, trying to draw as little attention to himself as possible wasn’t hiding. he had no reason to hide. he just didn’t like the crowds, or the strangers. his head was spinning. he had a long day. it had nothing to do with giselle ; with the glossy pink dress that looked like it was made for her specifically, or the pearls drawing too much attention to the spot where her neck met her shoulder. it had nothing to do with the fact that the moment he tried to talk to her, his brain seemed to stutter to a halt ; any clever compliments losing themselves entirely and being replaced with the sound of luvena and bowie laughing at him instead. he hated being so easily readable ; but despite the lies he was telling himself, his motives were obvious. stepping under the florescent light of the bathroom, jackson just wanted a moment to breathe. he didn’t get it. instead, the sound of his footsteps against the tiles seemed to alert the shadowy figure hiding behind the shower curtain, a soft shuffling catching his attention.

       pulling back the curtain, he stared at bowie for a full minute, head slowly falling to the side. it wasn’t surprising to find bowie gallagher sat somewhere she shouldn’t be  —  like lounging back in the empty bath like she owned it. she had made a habit of doing the kinds of things people didn’t expect. jackson didn’t question it. instead, without batting an eye, jackson placed down the cup he was holding, stepping into the tub and practically shoving the smaller woman aside so he could sit down beside her. “ lu’s pet lunatics have been following me around for the past hour asking annoying questions. so i guess you’re better company. ” he explained, though he really didn’t need to. it was a lie. jackson had grown used to tuning out harrison and levi’s ramblings. but he had no intention of revealing his actual thought process, no matter how obvious it might have been. “ why the fuck are you in here ? wasn’t this partly your idea, count dracula ? “ he stretched his legs out until they were dangling over the side of the porcelain, settling back against the wall and making himself comfortable despite the fact he had never been offered the spot beside her.  “ are you hiding from that tall guy that’s been following you around like a puppy dog all night ? i thought he looked a little strange, but . . . “ trailing off, jackson shrugged, and then raised his glass up to take a sip. 

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closed starter for GISELLE ( @overwhlcmed ) location: boo boo the fool’s apartment <3 ​

◦ 「 ☆ 」 ────────────  IT WAS STRANGE to feel lonely. of course, jackson had always been lonely, always known it was himself against the world, always acknowledged the dull aching in his chest that simply wished for someone, anyone, to help fill the never-healing void, but he never really felt the effects of it. for the most part it was an omni-present fact ; he learned to live with it until it became something he barely processed. it was part of him. but while he ignored ─ avoided ─ didn’t talk to giselle, it made it’s presence known in a way that hadn’t been there before. there was now a constant voice in the back of his head repeating things back to him. it reminded him that giselle would have laughed at the joke that he overheard standing on the subway station ; that duchess looked real weird in that moment, like the kind of picture she might have sent him ; that his apartment seemed awfully quiet, and his bed rather empty, without a second body there to fill the space. no matter how short it had been, her sudden absence was felt in every part of his life.

        he needed time to think. to collect his thoughts. to figure out what the next step from here was ─ they couldn’t do that again ( couldn’t they ? ) because it was a bad idea ( was it ? ) but he didn’t want to let go of her friendship ( were they really friends ? would they be able to continue to be friends after this ? his heart was doubtful, but his mind was adamant they had to be. ) ─ this was true, and he had been doing a lot of thinking since he’d closed her apartment door behind him days ago. but mostly, jackson was scared. he was scared of how easy it had been for him to completely disregard all logic the moment that giselle had been close. he was scared of how fast he had felt his heart beating. he was scared of the myriad of new ways that had opened for him to hurt her ─ and he was scared that he was already doing it.

         the weirdness that he had created between them was brand new, even if the way that his breathing stopped every time he saw her was just the same. thirteen years ago, jackson never really cared about the consequences of his actions. he didn’t know the ways he was capable of hurting people. he also didn’t know he loved giselle ─ the two of them had been comfortably trapped inside a make-shift reality that they never spoke about, and then the bubble had burst. now, however ? years of experience had taught him that you couldn’t teach an old dog new tricks. it didn’t matter how hard he tried to be good. it didn’t matter how much he knew he loved her. he fucked things up, even without meaning too. he was a self-fulfilling prophecy with no happy ending. this knowledge plagued him and shadowed every interaction, and thus every vulnerability he had extended towards her had been viciously ripped back in an attempt to save them both. 

       yet shaking her out of his mind wasn’t so easy this time. he had felt the ripples of pain that echoed through his body when he’d first packed up and left stanford, but he was able to compartmentalize those thoughts. new giselle was like a parasite that had wormed her way into every thought. he snapped at duchess, at declan, and at just about anyone else who was unfortunate enough to get in his way. he felt guilty for not staying, while simultaneously he felt guilty for letting it happen in the first place. he couldn’t ignore her this time. impulsivity had lead him to her door, just like the first time, with a dinner offer, also like the first time. part of him was expecting her to chase him off. the other part was hoping she would invite him in. pretending had worked this far, right ? 

         “ hi ─ um, hi. “ his words sputtered out all together, like he had rehearsed what to say and then forgot the moment she opened the door and he saw her ( he had ). “ these are for you. “ the bundle of daisies he was holding was unceremoniously shoved at her ; he wanted to move past it, and quickly, acknowledging the flowers without acknowledging the why. the way he skirted around the elephant in the room was awkward, and he was very obviously out of his element ─ odd, considering this hadn’t been the first time that he’d appeared from the land of ghosts to reinsert himself into the timeline once more ( but this was the first time it mattered. ) his gaze then briefly jumped down to the paper bag, and he held it up slightly. “ this is for you, too ─ well, on a technicality, it’s for both of us, but if you were somehow planning on eating all this food on your own i’d just let you have it just to see you try. “ he looked back to her, nervously running his tongue against the inside of his cheek and rocking back on his heels. “ i was just ─ i was in the neighbourhood, and i ─ well i hoped you weren’t working late, but your lights were on from outside. not that i was explicitly looking at your window ! ─ this hole just keeps getting deeper. i’m going to stop talking now. “ 

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closed starter for GISELLE ( @overwhlcmed​ ) location: jackson’s apartment ? grace is throwing hands if he was at her apartment so this is the best we’re gonna get.

     ★. ── jackson had never once celebrated valentine’s day. even on the years where he was technically obligated too, his time matched with ‘ girlfriends ‘ ( in the loosest sense of the term ), he would spew some nonsense about capitalism and the ploy to sell flowers and chocolate and leave it at that. it wasn’t that he was really anti-romance ( though he claimed he was, if someone were to breeze through the worn novels that made up half the clutter in his apartment, they would see plenty of underlined quotes that would prove him otherwise ) ; just that the concept of a day where you were obligated to make showy displays of affection to prove your love to other people felt ridiculous. he refused to participate, having never quite grown out of the the immature, stick-it-to-the-man attitude that he had developed in high school ── and because if love was real ( like he quietly wished it was ), then surely it wouldn’t be the kind of thing that was only celebrated once a year. 

        it made sense, though, that giselle would be born on the one day that was officially dedicated to bouquets of red roses and pink boxes full of chocolate and all the things the every day person associated with love. she was so full of adoration and hope for the world that it could be seen spilling out of her all the time ( so had giovanni, although his manifested itself in a different, less obvious way ) and when someone learned that her birthday coincided with february 14th it always seemed to just click. it also worked out that jackson didn’t have to ask much more than what she was doing on her birthday. it was a perfect excuse when luvena or bowie had questions for him that he didn’t know how to answer ── she had visited him, after all. it would be rude to not return the favour. 

     there were implications between them now. the longer time went on, the harder it was getting for jackson to plaster the label of “ friends “ on whatever the hell him and giselle were doing when asked by other people. it was easy, at first, to brush off every encounter with light excuses that gave no hint at what was actually happening under the surface. but now, months down the line, they were still pretending, and every time they did things got more and more dangerous. it was getting easier and easier for jackson to ignore the guilty conscious that told him to pull away when they were lingering too close to each other. 

       “ oh ── that’s, um, that’s for you, by the way, “ at a momentary pause in conversation, jackson jerked his chin towards a plainly ( and poorly ── he hoped she wouldn’t look too closely at the seams ) wrapped box sitting to the side of his table. he was hoping that giselle wouldn’t ask too many questions ── that she would unwrap the book and the shitty little usb and that would be the end of it, until she was by herself and could find the old photos tucked inside the pages and the recordings and jackson wouldn’t have to answer for them. he spent an embarrassing amount of time re-learning chords and parts for songs he wasn’t even sure that she still liked, and talking about it was dancing a little too close to talking about the invisible line that they kept blatantly stepping over. without looking up from the carrot he’d been cutting, he shrugged his shoulders, acting ( in typical jackson rhodes fashion ) as though it didn’t mean anything. “ you don’t have to open it now. it’s not anything important. i just didn’t want to forget. “