#goodnamara

[hatchetfield-bang]

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[weaver-z]

I’m the vanguard of the President Howard Goodman/General MacNamara ship fanclub and I’m good with that

[gayasssrodentwtf]

sup, im just posting that whole rp under the cut on this post if your wondering where the original posts went :)

:)

[whizzvin-writes]

The Sight of the Starry Night Makes Me Free

The wind fluttering about was crisp and fresh, and it provided a slight cool burn in John MacNamara’s throat as he breathed in. He had just finished smoking a cigarette—an unhealthy way he coped with his stress—as he gazed off of the balcony. The tall man winced as his brain reminded him of the most recent mission, the one where he had to enter the Black and White to face Wilbur Cross. The one where he had to force President Goodman out.

“Sir, what are you doing?” Xander questioned, tilting his head in confusion as John began throwing on a suit.

“We lost connection, obviously I need to go in and save him.”

“What? John, wait, you need to think this through—”

“The United States of America needs their president more than they need me. I’ll get him back.”

Those were his final words before he leapt through the portal. But even just getting Howard back was a challenge. John grimaced as he lit another cigarette, leaning against the railing.

“I’m sorry John, I fucked it up!” Howard had yelled through the void. The regret was evident in his voice.

“Don’t worry Mr. President, come on, let’s get you out of here,” John reassured, pulling the darker haired man behind him. A nearby cackle forced John to whip his head around, and his eyes widened as they met with…

“It’s too late John!” Wilbur Cross snarled. “Wiggly’s prophet has been chosen, and as soon as she has a doll, she will bring about his new birth!” John wanted to wipe that smirk off of the demented man’s face, but instead he turned and ran. Like a coward.

“There! The portal! You must go, Mr. President. Go now!” John yelled, trying to hide the fear that was lacing his voice, and shoved Howard towards the exit. Confusion washed over the president’s panicked expression.

“What about you?”

“Return is no longer an option for me. If we want to defeat Wiggly, we need to get rid of the prophet as well as the messenger. I know Wilbur’s weaknesses. It has to be me.” John explained as quickly as he could. He raised his right arm up in a salute. “It’s been an honor to serve.” He nodded when Howard saluted back, and watched as he crossed through the portal. Once he was certain that the other had made it back, he turned in search of Wilbur. If his hands were shaking, well, nobody needed to know.

“John?” Howard’s voice cut through the general’s thoughts, causing him to flinch. He put out his cigarette and turned to face the worried man in front of him.

“Is something the matter, Mr. President?” John questioned, putting on his mask of authority. Too many people looked towards him for answers, there was no way he was going to let someone see him with his defenses down.

“I told you, you can call me Howard,” he frowned, studying the posture of the blond man. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“So you typically stand outside on a balcony for,” he checked his watch, “two and a half hours?” Howard asked, concern growing more and more apparent. John couldn’t stand it, the facial expression mirroring too similarly to the one plaguing his mind, and he turned around. Running a hand through his hair in frustration, he closed his eyes.

“I’m just reflecting. There’s nothing to worry about,” John responded, feeling far away. They opened again to glance at the man brushing shoulders with him, who was looking up at the stars. They leaned against the railing in silence, until Howard spoke up.

“I don’t know how you do it. But God, I worry about you,” he said, locking with John’s eyes. John felt himself swallow nervously when those hazel eyes seemed to stare right through him. “How can you be so damn reckless? You sacrifice yourself for others all the time. Don’t you have any standards for yourself? Don’t you want to keep on living?” Howard questioned, serious. John looked back to the starry night surrounding them.

“Sacrifice or be sacrificed, those are your only choices when facing a greater evil,” he recited from the back of his mind. It was something he repeated to himself often, finding it better to save others rather than himself.

“Christ, John,” Howard scoffed in disbelief. “Can’t you take one moment to not play the hero? Some of us actually need you here.” And with that, he walked away. John turned to watch the other man go, but felt his stomach start to twist into knots.

“You—” John hesitated. “Are you mad at me, Mr. President?” He asked, despising the amount of vulnerability breaking through within his question. Howard turned around and shook his head.

“I’m not mad at you, but your actions infuriate me sometimes, General,” he responded honestly. Something must’ve shown on John’s face, because Howard continued. “You rush into danger just to prevent others from getting hurt, why? Because you care about them, right? But what you can’t seem to realize is that some of us care about you, too.” Howard started walking closer to John. “You think it’s better to sacrifice yourself, but all of your agents are prepared to lose their lives if that means success in their mission. And that’s what makes you a damn good leader. But what are they going to do if you’re gone? Xander wasn’t ready to take control after you came back from the Black and White. Trust me, when he wasn’t in the hospital watching over you, he was terrified. P.E.I.P. needs you, whether you want to admit it or not.” It felt like he was towering over John, even if there was only a single inch difference between the two of them. “So stop being so reckless, because when you came back covered in bruises and cuts, we were all scared. We were terrified when you passed out after coming through that portal. So stop acting like you don’t matter.” John just nodded his head, silently. Howard’s eyes widened, and he backed up. “I—John, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I’m so sorry,” he apologized, his eyes somehow being more apologetic than his pleading voice.

“I apologize for not being more considerate of everyone else’s emotions,” John said in a voice that sounded stronger than what he felt. “I’ll do my best to think of others before acting next time. I didn’t intend to have a disregard for your feelings, or anyone else’s.” Howard smiled, gratefully. He wrapped his arms around John, causing the blond to freeze. He let go quickly, and looked up at the stars.

“It really is a beautiful night,” he mumbled to himself. He glanced back at John. “I’ll let you go now. I’m sorry for interrupting your thoughts. Have a good night, John.”

“You too, Howard.” As the brunet walked away, John turned back to the stars, cursing under his breath. “Of all the things you could’ve thrown at me, it’s this? I suppose the universe really works in mysterious ways.”

[warriorblood1]

hi i liked your fic on ao3 youre a good writer i 👍👍👍👍 los tin saus

lmao thank you, i was so embarassed writing it but im trying to cringe over myself less and honestly i really like it uwu. i hope to write more goodnamara, mayhaps even soon.... (looks at the hatchetfield bang)