#cht. jack

[lcst]

" i... sometimes, i guess i kinda wish you could see yourself through my eyes. " (from sawyer for jack--is this a compliment or an insult?) // @glassmenagerieofmuses​

the sentiment earns a scoffed chuckle, bemused. jack cocks his head, but doesn’t take his eyes off his work -- a rare pasta dinner, courtesy of the hatch’s pantry. “yeah, not for your lack of trying. the hero, right? saint jack... doctor giggles is a personal favorite.” all served up with a heaping scoop of sarcasm and condescension. sawyer’s backhanded nicknames have a tendency to cut right into the hurting heart of you, poke you in that deep, sore spot. because jack isn’t a hero, not really, as much as he’d like to be. he’s not really a saint and that’s the point. that’s what he thinks sawyer’s always so giddy to remind him. jack turns his back to the blonde, sets a pot to boil. “trust me, i get it.”

[lcst]

❛  is  this  what  you  wanted ?  ❜ (claire to jack // @violcntdelightsxx​ )

“that’s it,” jack approves, accepting the small glass bowl of white cream. he’s methodical and focused, hands steady as he carefully turns little aaron in his lap and smears some of the concoction on his irritated skin. “sun made it... don’t ask me how,” he adds, mirthful as he shoots claire a sidelong smile. the baby coos into a chubby smile of his own and jack, a bit removed, but thoughtful, returns it. “-- he’ll be fine. the rash is normal.” 

with that said, jack turns his assessing gaze to claire, his tone gentle, but firm. “you okay?”

[lcst]

🤕  -  a  starter  where  my  muse  is  patching  up  your  muse’s  injuries. / @idcnticxl​

“it didn’t get you too bad.” whatever it was. considering the splinters he’s carefully fishing out of the scrape on her arm, jack would guess a nasty fight with a tree. “this is gonna sting a bit,” he warns and then presses a fresh shirt blotted with antibacterial against the wound. “you gotta be careful out there. small things have a lot bigger consequences here.” preachy, yes, but jack can’t stand to lose anybody in his group. he finds her eye, arches a brow. “what were you up to anyway?”

[lcst]

⚔️  -  a  starter  where  our  muses  are  fighting  and  my  muse  admits  their  feelings  for  yours.  (  add  + reverse  for  your  muse  to  admit  their  feelings )  / @lcstneverfcund​

“yeah, i get it, you don’t need me,” jack starts, just short of outright rolling his eyes. instead he narrows them, glitters with condescending irony when he continues, “unless you’re shot or about to get shot.” he steps forward, increasingly direct. “it doesn’t matter if you don’t want me in charge -- i am. and you’re as much apart of the group as anyone else.” which is to say, he falls squarely under jack’s responsibility. “just go cool off, sawyer.” the vague superiority in his tone is altogether unnecessary -- jack knows the most confrontational thing you can tell someone who’s pissed off is to calm down.

[lcst]

❛ all i ever wanted was a little peace & quiet . ❜ / juliet to jack. // sent by @815s​

“my experience? living on some beautiful, foreign beach isn’t usually as relaxing as it sounds.” which is to say -- it’s always something. he can’t knock juliet for making the decision to come to the island, it seems like a trend that the majority of it’s inhabitants are merely reacting to the strings being pulled by the bigger players, motivated by their own convoluted goals. jack has to admit, it is a pretty package sitting on the quaint bench swing, surrounded by content Others milling about their tasks. he throws juliet a sidelong glance, a half smile. “got some peace now, don’t we?” then he tacks on, going for playful, but twinging with some wariness, “never a good sign.”

[lcst]

“ i knew you wouldn’t go to sleep willingly, so i brought you some chamomile tea and a blanket. twenty minutes of shut-eye, okay? ” / aria to jack. // sent by @815s​​

he hadn’t realized he’d been holding breath in until it expels in a soft chuckle, pretends to peer suspiciously into the makeshift cup. “-- is it drugged?” sleeping isn’t an idea he’s considered in awhile, opts not to do the math of how long it’s been since he’s got any of it. “not tired.” the response aria probably anticipated, but it’s not an altogether lie. he is tired, but not in any way that a catnap will help. his exhaustion is bones deep, years old. “but,” he reasons, lowering himself down onto a fallen tree trunk, “i’ll sit and have the tea.” he’s equal parts cheeky and genuinely wondering when he tacks on, “you a mom?”

[lcst]

❛  i’ve  got  one  life  so  i’m  gonna  live  it .  ❜ (Hurley to Jack) // @multimuse-rp​​

“yeah?” jack’s indulgent and smirking as he empties out his pack. “i’d say that’s a pretty smart choice. bold one, too.” at least it’s a helluva lot more than he can say for himself. hurley’s optimism is contagious though, so he’s inclined to show more interest than usual. he raises his gaze, brows lifting curiously. “what’s brought all this on, hurley?”

[lcst]

❛  i’m  feeling  all  this  pressure ,   it’s  a  weight  on  my  shoulders .  ❜ // @kausten​

“i know the feeling.” knows what he’d want to hear, too. you can do it. it’ll all be okay. you have unconditional support. but as jack pulls his gaze to kate’s, he imagines she’d agree that it’s never so simple. never so easy. they just can’t carry each other’s luggage. lips press together and he slowly dips his head. “you feel the pressure because you’re important... to the group.” to him. he wouldn’t be able to do it without her. he looks off for a moment before his eyes are magnetized back. a shoulder lifts in a shrug, head shakes. “if i know you, you don’t break, kate. you just bend.”