Warnings: Language, descriptions of war, violence and injury
Tags: Gunshot wounds, car crash, major injuries, pre-canon, war-era Mac and Childs, medic reader, loads of medical inaccuracies i'm sure, strangers/workplace enemies to awkward friends, pre-relationship, gender neutral reader, no use of y/n.
Summary: It takes a car crash and a literal life or death situation for Mac to finally talk to you.
A/N: I had a lot of fun with this! Kinda ran away from me theme-wise, but I hope you still like it :D
April 1972
The wind created by the drive is the only thing keeping you somewhat cool- wicking the sweat from your skin and providing temporary relief from the stifling humidity as you sail down a dusty backroad. Tall cypresses and rattan palms whiz past, blending together to create a solid wall of green on either side of the road.
"Come on- give it your best shot."
Childs has to shout to be heard over the Jeep's rumbling engine and the Beach Boys song issuing from the radio. Mac chuckles from his spot in the back seat, and when you glance in the rearview mirror, you can see his lazy smirk and the sun glaring off of his dark glasses. You're just opening your mouth to tell your comrade off when something slams into the side of the Jeep. It rocks to the left, almost settles, and then the world spins as whatever hit you explodes and throws you off of the road.
All you can do is grip the steering wheel and pray that your lap belt works as you turn over and crash through the underbrush. There's a half second where your ass leaves the seat, and you plant your feet against the back of the footwell to shove yourself against the backrest. It keeps you somewhat stable as the Jeep rolls a second time and crashes sideways into a stand of tallish palm trees. Everything hurts. Something's been thrown out of place in your back, and your neck is sore from the force of the landing. You catch movement in your periphery, and someone groans out there in the jungle. Sounds like Mac. Childs is nowhere to be found. You unfasten your seatbelt and let yourself tumble out of the Jeep and into the bushes. Your pack is still wedged beneath the driver's seat, and you make a point of snagging it before you leave the vehicle behind.
Leaves rustle all around you. Twigs snap as multiple people step over them, less worried about being quiet now that they've made a proper introduction. You stay low and search the area around the vehicle, hoping against hope that something useful fell out and landed nearby. It seems you're in luck- your fingers brush the strap of someone's M16, and you're quick to sling it over your shoulder. Another pained groan off to your left. You turn toward it and blindly push through the foliage. He's alive and struggling to get to his feet.
Your instincts scream at you to help him, but past experience tells you he won't be happy about it. After four months with this outfit, he was the only one you still couldn't get through to. Wouldn't even acknowledge your existence aside from a grunt or an annoyed shove if you were in his way. You couldn't understand it. Sure, you're new, and most units loved to hate the new person, but you'd already saved the lives of half of the platoon. You trudge toward him and wrap an arm around his waist to help him up, and true to his nature, he grumbles at the assistance.
"Legs work just fine, in case ya didn't notice."
He starts to walk with you, but he only makes it three steps before his legs give out. The only thing keeping him from crumpling to the ground again is you.
"I noticed," You wheeze, wedging your shoulder into his armpit and supporting more of his weight, "Looks like they're doing great."
"Of all the assholes to be stuck with-"
Two things happen at once. Childs shouts at you, hidden somewhere deeper into the jungle, and your attackers finally zero in on the two of you. The whipcrack report of rifles leaves your ears ringing. You're barely able to hear Childs' frantic orders as you support Mac with one arm and stumble through the bushes, following the sound of the Corporal's voice. Rounds whiz past, too close for comfort, and your companion grunts with the effort of keeping up with you.
It takes less than two minutes to reach Childs, but the journey feels like a lifetime as your enemies attempt to box you in and fire shots over the top of your heads. Mac regains his sense of balance and pushes away from you to stand on his own as you confer with Childs. You comrade points vaguely Northwest.
"There's a checkpoint... Probably ten clicks that way. I'd say we could follow the road, but look at how well that worked."
"Gotta tell central that it's fallen," You breathe, glancing over your shoulder to keep track of your adversaries, "Let's get the hell out of here."
Something thunks into the palm tree to your right, and you're just turning to investigate the source when something tears into Mac's arm. He groans and clamps a hand over his bicep, blood quickly soaking his shirt sleeve and seeping out from between his fingers. There's no time to look at it as the enemy descends on you. The three of you turn tail and sprint further into the trees, hoping to lose them or at least outrun them.
The trees provide mild relief from the midday sun, but the strenuous activity means that your clothes are soaked through and sticking in places that they shouldn't be sticking. And, to top it all off, MacReady is steadily becoming more incoherent. If you don't do something about the wound, he's going to lose consciousness, lose the arm, or both. The injury itself isn't new to you, but the stubbornness of your patient is. He insists on pushing through to the checkpoint, bloodied arm dangling uselessly at his side, and continually shrugs you off when you try to offer your help. After his third attempt to push away, you're fed up with his shit, and it seems he's at the end of his rope, too. Fiery blue eyes meet yours as he slurs his first full sentence in over two hours.
"Leave me alone, god dammit."
You straighten up and meet him head on, putting as much steel in your voice as you can muster, "Do you want to be able to fly after this war is over, or are you just that excited to lose your arm, asshole?"
Mac glances over your shoulder- looking for help from Childs, no doubt. The man in question sighs through his nose and groans, "Come on, man. Quit bitching and let the doc work," and that effectively put an end to Mac's resistance. Mostly. The Corporal decides it's safe to come to a halt after a preliminary sweep of the area and you immediately set to work. The round isn't lodged very deep, but it's in a damned inconvenient place, nestled up against one of the ligaments. All in all, it takes ten minutes to pull it out, clean the entry wound, and bind the arm. Mac bitched through the entire process.
"Don't need this- ow, god dammit- Coulda waited till we made it to that checkpoint-"
"And wait for your arm to go septic?" You mutter, tugging on the bandage with a little more force than you really needed to, "Sure."
You snap off the tourniquet and hastily shove your supplies back into your pack, not bothering to buckle the flap before you shoulder it and stand up. You don't want to offer him a hand up- you'd rather leave him where he is and continue trudging to the checkpoint without the gift of his endless grumbling- but you do it, anyway. His instinct is to reach up with his injured arm, and he grimaces when the motion puts strain on the wound, but the pilot commits to his decision, takes your hand, and hauls himself to his feet.
"Not bad," He mumbles, eyeing the dressing with something that borders on appreciation, "Don't hurt so much no more."
"And it'll stay that way as long as you don't do anything stupid."
He scoffs, mouth curving into a lopsided smirk that you can barely see beneath the beard, and shoulders past you to take point.
may i request mac and reader stealing from palmers weed stash and indulging together in his shack perhaps...
R.J. MacReady + Stealing Palmer's Weed
This was very silly and fun to write! My only personal experience with weed was smoking it in a field of flowers and spending five hours making art with a friend while we sat in the sun. Unfortunately there's not many flowers and not much sunlight in Antarctica, but you could still have a reasonably good time...
Divider by @/uglylittlelamb
If you're expecting philosophical conversations and loopy shenanigans... prepare to be mildly disappointed.
You'd mentioned weed being an effective sleep aid for certain types of people, and though you'd meant it as an offhand comment, Mac's brain latched on to that bit of information and stewed over it for the better part of a week before he worked up the courage to ask you about it.
"Yeah, I mean- I used to use it for sleep when I was in college. Some people get the munchies and other people get weirdly productive and spend most of the night cleaning their apartment. Sometimes you have a bad reaction to it, and that sucks. I had a friend smoke it and spend the next five hours freaking out 'cause he was convinced that he was dead."
Mac takes a swig straight out of the bottle and lets his mouth steer the conversation before he can chicken out of it.
"Would ya do it with me? Might be nice to get a full night's sleep for once."
The glass neck of the bottle squeaks as his fingers tighten around it, and you note the way that his eyes dart about the room as if he's worried about the guys overhearing the two of you. He's nervous. He wants you to be there with him.
In truth, he'd smoked it once during the war, and it didn't do anything for him. It was cheap stuff that tasted disgusting and smelled worse, and he was pretty sure that it only worked for Private Lehrmann because the guy weighed 90 pounds soaking wet. Palmer's stuff is higher quality- Mac's caught traces of citrus and the pleasant, thyme-like smell that seems to be soaked into the man's very skin after years of smoking.
You turn Mac's proposal over in your head for a few minutes, weighing the consequences. If you did it on Friday night and he had a bad trip, you'd have at least twelve hours of peace to help him through it before Garry came knocking and demanded that the two of you help him with something. And there'd be a full day between the start of the trip and Mac's next helicopter excursion- more if the weather goes to shit over the weekend. You shrug and try to keep the excitement out of your voice as you say, "Sure, yeah. How's tomorrow night sound?"
He tries to go the honest route and ask Palmer for some of his stash- he really does- but the man immediately fixes him with a suspicious glare and whines, "Get your own, man!"
Undeterred, he wanders back to you and grumbles, "Guess we gotta steal it for ourselves," like pilfering weed from your coworker was going to be some great, burdensome task and not a serious offense.
Whatever. You could do with a little interpersonal drama and excitement after an entire summer of taking ice cores and hunching over a microscope for ten hours a day.
Stealing from Palmer is surprisingly easy. All you have to do is wait until the usual Friday night festivities start up. He and Nauls hog the rec room T.V. and immediately get lost in an old recording of Password, Childs and Garry start up a friendly game of nine ball, and Copper, Fuchs, and Blair are toiling away in the lab as usual. Windows is nowhere to be seen, but he's not a snitch, and you're not opposed to offering him some of your quarry if push comes to shove.
It's such a simple task. You stay in your quarters to get some "light reading" done while Mac makes an appearance in the rec room to avoid suspicion. Once the T.V. volume is cranked up and you can hear the telltale crack of cues against pool balls, you set your book down and quietly put on your boots.
All you have to do is creep into the man's room and open the top drawer of his makeshift nightstand, and there it is- a repurposed Altoids tin that's filled to the brim with pre-rolled blunts. You pocket two of them and shake the tin around until the contents settle into place. It doesn't even look like you've taken anything, and unless Palmer makes a ritual out of counting his weed stash, he's not gonna notice.
Fast-walk down the main corridor and do your best not to look suspicious. The guys aren't going to notice, anyway (they didn't even notice when Windows got a new pair of glasses until he'd been wearing them for the better part of spring).
Make a beeline for the coat room and suit up. Head out into the cold and Mac will follow you a few minutes later.
Once the two of you make it to the shack, there's no giggling, no celebration of your successful heist. Mac produces a lighter from one of his flight suit's many pockets and makes a "give it here" gesture with his free hand.
Lights yours first and takes a seat at his makeshift desk and plays chess while he waits for the weed to kick in. The cot's all yours to spread out on, and if you dig around in the totes that are wedged beneath it, you might find a thick comforter to bury yourself in.
All in all, it takes an hour before Mac realizes he can't even recognize which pieces are his and which are the computers. Lets out an amused grunt and shuts down the program.
He'd expected to see some sort of crazy hallucinations or get the munchies, but instead he's... tired?
He's genuinely tired for the first time since the war. Not just a vague sense of sleepiness, either. His muscles feel like they're melting one at a time, and his mind is wonderfully blank.
Heaves himself up and out of his chair, kicks off his boots, and points at the tiny amount of space on the cot that isn't taken up by you or the comforter.
Lift up the blankets and tell him to get his ass into bed. His pride is pretty much nonexistent at this point. He'll clamber in there with you and settle with one arm draped across your stomach and his head tilted at an awkward angle- halfway onto your chest and halfway into your armpit.
It'll take him about ten minutes to fall asleep, and it'll be the only time when you can freely admire him without getting a glare or a grumbled, "The hell're you lookin' at."
Once you've finished smoking and stubbed out the remains of your joint in one of the coffee mugs on the nightstand, you can wrap your arms around Mac and settle in to enjoy your own high. His snores are muffled against your chest, and the cold wind outside is a low drone in your ears. He might be awkward about the whole experience once he wakes up, but for now, he's getting the first full night of sleep that he's had in over ten years. His warmth is quickly seeping into your skin, and the comforter is delightfully heavy where it falls over your shoulders. It's surprisingly easy to drift off while holding an armful of grumpy helicopter pilot.
could i request mac hcs with kids? but not like parental i mean him with readers nieces or nephews bc that man radiates uncle energy ik he has crazy lore to drop on them
R.J. MacReady + Being Around Kids
Warning: Mild language
Divider by @/sinisterexaggerator
Oh jesus.
He used to be very anti-kids until, after almost two years of asking, you finally convinced him to come with you to one of your family's barbecues.
He very quickly discovers that he wasn't truly anti-kids... he was anti-badly-behaved-kids. The toddlers at the function are very polite, and he's lulled into a false sense of security for the first two hours as they play with each other and readily ignore him.
Then, you mention to one of them that you're dating, and suddenly, ten children effectively corner him to ask about how long you've been together, where you met, etc..
Holds his hands up like he's facing a pack of hyenas, expression unreadable behind his aviators, and shouts, "Hey, hey- one at a time. One at a- god dammit-"
There's a collective dramatic gasp from the children.
"Shit, sorry-"
A scream.
"Oh, for christ's-"
Throws his hands up in defeat and takes a seat in the nearest lawn chair, head in his hands.
Is immediately surrounded by the kids, but at least they take turns asking questions from there on out.
They're all equally impressed when he tells them that he's a pilot, and he finds that it's actually sort of fun to relay some of his adventures to them.
Despite being known for his lack of a filter, he makes an effort to leave out the more unsavory details (we're talking about the war, here, come on)
Meanwhile, you've noticed that the kids have been eerily silent for the last fifteen minutes. Where'd they- oh.
Mac has a captive audience as he tells them about the perils of the jungle. In his typical brash voice, he describes a snake that tried to "eat a man whole" and how it took five guys to pull the snake off of the guy.
(This is true- one of his mates fell asleep in the wrong place and woke up wrapped in twelve feet worth of burmese python)
(They had to kill it to get it to let go after ten minutes of wrestling with it, but the kids don't need to know that)
You look on with no shortage of amusement while Mac actually enjoys himself for once.
Gives you a smile that you can barely see under the beard when you wander over to give him a fresh beer. Kids collectively groan when he calls you baby and gives you a kiss, but then, one of them pipes up to ask about how you met.
Now you've been roped into the fun. It's your turn to entertain them with stories of Antarctica while Mac takes a break and leans back in his lawn chair to admire you, beer in hand.
Watches you talk. Watches the sun make a halo around your head and deepen the color of your eyes as you gesture wildly and hold sway over ten completely enrapt children. Watches a giddy grin deepen the lines around your mouth and crinkle the skin near your eyes.
After a few more sips of beer, he starts to think that maybe this domestic shit isn't so horrible after all.
You ask him if he had a good time while you drive home, and there's no hesitation at all when he says, "Yeah. When's the next one?"
Kurt Russell's Characters Helping With Your Back Pain
Pairing (in order and separate): R.J. MacReady, Jack Burton, Gabriel Cash
Tags: gn!reader, pre and establish relationship, minimal description of back pain, possible ooc macready, Gabriel part is purely self indulgent– sorry!
Taglist: @bonsoir-oiseau I hope this brings you comfort with your current back pain!
Word count: 2.6k
Divider by @solitary-serendipity
A/n: im keeping the back pain saga on! Im not really sure of my style as this is headcanons with some dabbles in-between. Also apologise for any typos!
R.J.MACREADY
★Basing this on my experience for a moment, I actually experienced so many pain flares during this winter due to how cold it got here. I can only imagine how severe the back pain must be in the outpost. Basing this on my experience for a moment, I actually experienced so many pain flares during this winter due to how cold it got here. I can only imagine how severe the back pain must be in the outpost.
★While everyone in the outpost experiences their grumbles about how cold it is, they quickly adapt to your behaviour and don't think much of your groans and moans. Mac at first wouldn't think much of it, probably even roll his eyes at you and label you as dramatic in his head.
★But as you grow closer, Mac would pick up how often this occurs and be quick to recognise that something is off. Watching closer and noticing habits like; how slow you are to move or get up. How you cling to the heater or other methods to stay warm, such as hot water bottles, tea and etc. How snappy you get on expedition, or how reluctant you are to bend down.
★He won't act much at this point, not wanting to make a fool out of himself by a simple hunch. Especially if you haven't told him yet. Leaving it as 'your business', but he will do some small actions, like nudging any portable heater in your direction. Making comments that there's freshly hot coffee made. Along with keeping an eye on you more during any expedition outside.
★But once in a relationship, where either you tell him about your back problems or it gets confirmed by Copper.
"Before you go, Mac." MacReady spins around to face Dr. Copper, wondering what else he could want from him.
He watches impatiently, annoyed to be delay in meeting up with you, as the older man is unlocking the medical cabin and appears to be fishing for some meds. He finds what hes looking for and shakes the bottle lightly as the meds inside rattle. Mac shoulders drops a little as he watches attentively.
"Could you pass this along?" At the sound of your name, MacReady becomes focus on the subject. Realising it's his opportunity to confirm about his hunch. Mac open his hand to receive the bottle, reading the name and dosage carefully.
"Sure. This is for…?" Mac trails off.
"It's for their back."
"For their back. Right. Got it." Mac nods his head and walks out of the room. Giving the bottle another quick read before and tucking it in his pocket. His hand still protective holding it as he leaves the room, going off to find you.
★That's when he really becomes proactive in helping with your back pain, but still in his standoffish ways.
★He first starts by dumping blankets on you at any given moment you mention you're cold. Doesn't matter where you are, in the lab, rec room or in your/his room. He makes a show about getting up, stomping away as his grumbles. You never ask for a blanket, mainly complaining for the sake of it. But Mac still gets up after a swing of his drink.
You snuggle deeper into your bedsheets, hoping to get warm and that it will help ease your tense muscles when a sudden pressure is dump on top of you. You let out a whine of pain and annoyance and struggle to get it off– tangle in your sheets. However, your struggle is cut short as the weight is lifted off and gets readjusted to a more comfortable position.
You can faintly hear a familiar grumbling above you and as your head is free from the blanket. You poke out from under your covers to see MacReady giving you a mocking smile.
"Better?" he ask.
"Yes," you beam happily, grateful for the act as he roll his eyes and he leaves your room.
★If you ask nicely, you could get him to sit next to you to share the blanket, and you have a 50/50 chance of him placing his arm around your shoulders in the rec room. If you ask nicely when you're alone in his or your room, you can get a nice cuddle. If you're lucky.
★He'll give you his sweaters to wear as an extra layer before you go outside. When noticing you struggling to walk, he stands beside you and encourages you to grab him as support.
★Would roughly place some meds on your tablet as he walks past or remind you to take some.
★If you're having a really bad day and need to rest due to the pain. He'll either start any sort of card games with you or just spill any stories to help take your mind off the pain. After he brought you med pains or made sure you took them.
★Depending on how you feel about touch during these painful moments, he offers in his roundabout way to cuddle. For 'extra warmth', of course.
JACK BURTON
☆Himbo Jack Burton
☆Jack will see and notice your signs of pain, e.g, slowing down, sighing, and straightening your posture. But he can be a little oblivious at times and not make the connection that those signs mean you're experiencing back pain.
At best, he'll probably think the weather is bothering you and give you his jacket if it's cold or suggest something to help with the spring/summer heat. At worst, he'll think you're being moody or that he's done something wrong.
☆In the beginning, for Jack to notice and understand what's happening will happen in two ways. Either you have to tell him. Or if you don't like sharing that burden, after enough time, Jack will point-blank ask what's wrong with you.
☆If he had to ask, he would softly scold you. Saying things like,
"Now, there's no reason to act all tough around ol' Jack Burton! If you're hurtin', you shoulda told me!"
But if you tell him, he's giving you the saddest puppy dog eye look,
"Aw, baby, your back hurtin'? Here, let me help."
☆Afterwards, in a relationship, he'll still be slow to pick up that you're in pain, but he'll eventually make the connection on his own and is ready to offer his help.
"What? And miss dinner?" Jack's jaw drop as he watches you, shoulders drop as you curve inward. Back hunch due to pain that you can't even make it to the truck and instead have insisted on return back inside your apartment for a lie down.
Honestly, you feel bad for having to cancel on dinner plans, but you thought your back was only slightly sore. Enough to make it through dinner yet taking the few steps outside is causing the ache in your back to protest loudly.
"Sorry."
"Hang on a bit," Jack shakes his head at your guilt-filled responses. You have no reason to apologisse for being in pain, he huffs softly out of frustration of being unable to help you sooner.
Hearing his footsteps apporaching, you turn you head to look over your shoulder just as his arms embrace you. Reaching around to gently grab your arms to guild them into a cross over your chest.
"What are you doing?" you ask in alarm as you feel Jack press his chest to your back.
"What's does it look like? Helping!"
"What?"
"On three."
" Jack!"
"Three!" Jack then leans back, bring you with. Shock at the sudden action you didn't get enough time to protest or try to escape his hold when a sudden crack is heard from your back. A sudden wave of relief washes over you, the tension in your back fades and you hang limp in his arms to process how pain free you are.
"…You crack my back?"
"I sure did." Jack answer proudly, knowing his trick work as he continues to hold you in the middle of the hallway in your apartment building.
☆Jack's go-to solution is to crack your back. He's been on the road for long stretches of time, and he's had his fair share of muscles cramping and begging to be free from his cap. In Jack's experience, a good stretch to help ease those joints is what works best.
☆When he goes to crack your back, there will be times when he just goes for it. Like a surprise of sorts, if he feels it's what you need. But he will also ask you before laying a hand on you. He has a surprisingly good intuition when it comes to it.
☆He'll be so giddy if you ask him to do it. Big smile on his face, rubbing his hands together and maybe even a cheeky innuendo.
☆During those times when you're feeling sensitive to the touch, or the pain is too much that you decline his offer for a back crack. He'll respect your choice, but will then become lost on what to do. He'll stand uncertainly with his hands hovering until he tucks them in his pocket. So you have to guide him and tell him what works best for you, to which he'll diligently follow every instruction to the letter.
☆He is giving you the princess/prince/ babygirl/babyboy- however you want to call it, treatment!
☆If you drop something and say you can't grab it due to your back hurting, the first few times, he makes a show of picking it up. Saying cheese nicknames when giving it back,
"for my princess/prince/ruler" etc,
but sometimes he'll just hold onto it for you.
☆Giving you every pillow in the house/apartment to ease your back. This behaviour follows in the truck or your car. Either giving you his pillow to place on the seat or having a designated pillow for you. Regardless of how your pain feels, it's easy for him to go overboard with it but the intention is very pure.
☆Jack will even ask Wang if he has any tea or to ask Uncle Chu for any remedies to help with back pain.
GABRIEL CASH
★Gabriel noticed you have back pains even before you two got together. Taking notice during office hours, leaning back in his chair to catch sight of you and mentally taking note how offer you bring a hand to rub your back during a single day.
★In the beginning, Gabriel is pretty open about how willing he is to help you but skilful enough to make it feel effortless. To prevent you from thinking guiltily of needing help or that he's treating you differently because of it. He just wants to help out his crush, that's all.
★He does things like snatching anything heavy out of your hands and making it feel like he's teasing you. Like a game of keep away. Partly it's him helping you, but also getting to spend more time with you in between trying to solve cases.
Your back struggles with the weight of the box, you're fairly sure it's not even that heavy but given how sore your back is. It feels like you're carrying weights not files, but you're determine to get through the busy hallway to the elevator while not hitting anyone with it. You're so focus at the task of weaving and dodging others that you don't notice Gabriel walking towards you until he snatches the box out of your hands.
"Cash!" you gawk at him, shock that he just grab it out of your hands it takes you a moment to realise he's currently walking away with it. "Hey! Give that back!" you shout as you follow after him.
"Oh, this?" Gabriel ask, shaking the box a little with a teasing smile. " I'm taking it upstairs."
"You're going the opposite way!" You whine, yet Gabriel gives you an innocent shrug as he rounds the corner. "GABRIEL!" you shout, chasing after him. You make it around the corner and see the other elevator doors open before Gabriel, taking note of how dramatically less busy this area is compare to where you were.
"After you," Gabriel nods his head at elevator. You huff as you enter before him, too annoyed to acknowledge Gabriel's help.
★He might even point-blank ask you how your back is doing. Checking in on you when he has the chance. Getting you to confirm your back issues on your own terms. But if you dodge his question or don't give all the details, he won't push it.
★He does other small acts like giving you more tea/coffee/water/soda - just general things to make you happy.
★When he sees you throw yourself into your chair and sigh heavily. Letting your whole body go slack, Gabriel is ready to offer any help, asking if you need anything. If he catches you sighing deeper, appearing to mentally prepare yourself just to get up from the chair. He is leaning against your desk and starting a conversation before you get up, all for the sake of letting you rest for a bit longer.
★If Gabriel is busy during the work shift, then he'll place some meds on your tablet as he works past or remind you to take some.
★He's pretty respectful of any boundaries you have in the workplace. That's if you work together. For any scenarios where you don't happen to work together, then Gabriel will check in on you every time you have lunch. Asking how your back is and having over-the-counter pain meds on the chance you need them.
★Once you're together and you tell him about your back problems, these actions still continue and will be followed with a kiss afterwards, on the cheek, forehead or on the lips to give you a boost and general encouragement.
★But now Gabriel is willing to do anything to help you out. This can range from him encouraging you to stretch in any place you are, to finding any empty room for you to stretch, to doing it in public. Gabriel wouldn't care about other people's opinions as he is more worried about your health, and even if you're embarrassed, he'll encourage you and do it with you if needed.
"Gabe, I'm not stretching here! There are people!" you hiss quietly as a couple walk past with their trolley. Out of all times for Gabriel to be stubborn, he chose to do it in the cereal selection all because you made a comment.
"Who cares, it's good for you. Look, I'll do it too." Gabriel shrugs, taking a step away from the trolley that holds some items. He brings both of his arms above his head, out stretching his fingers as if trying to reach up while keeping his feet planted on the ground.
"Gabriel!" you hiss out in disbelief as you look around the isle. Feeling motifly by the display.
"Can't hear you over how good my back feels."
You groan in annoynaces, sparing a glance at him and taking notice how his shirt rise up with his actions, showing the skin of his belly .
"i'm not stopping until you stretch."
"Ok! Fine!" you sigh as you copy him. You feel and hear short little clicks coming from your back as it realease the tension it's been holding. Your eyes close at the satisfied feeling of it. Finally feeling the pain slowly dwindle, you stay in the position longer than Gabriel as it help ease the pain. Once you open your eyes and slowly lower your arms, you see the self satisfy smile on Gabriel face. "well? feeling better?"
"Yeah," You smile bashfully, " Thanks."
"Anytime. Now, what ceral you want again?"
★His favourite method is back massages. He'll spend as much time as you need to work out any knots that could be plaguing you during your day. Either doing a quick over the clothes during your lunch break when you need it, or having more intimate calming moments at his apartment.
★If you have your own preferred methods to help with your back pain. You only have to say it once, and then Gabriel is doing it for you or giving you the items you need before you even have to voice it.
Headcanons for Rj Macready with an autistic reader?
HCs for MacReady with An Autistic Partner
Oh anon this prompt brought be SO MUCH JOY. I assume you meant my favorite man from The Thing, so that's who I wrote for. Can be read as pre or established relationship. Gender neutral reader as always :D
Divider by @/sinisterexaggerator
You will have to explain everything to this man- coping mechanisms, overstimulation, meltdowns, the works- and even after you've told him all of this, he might laugh it off and spend a long time in denial. Considering the times (and his military background), he likely doesn't believe that your autism (or his own PTSD, for that matter) is real.
But one fortuitous night, when the guys are being a little more raucous than usual, you notice that he's missing. His coat and hat are hanging by the front door, but you don't see him among your friends. A bit of searching leads you to the empty radio room, lit only by the moonlight filtering in from the narrow window by the ceiling. He's not drinking- a rarity- but he looks anything but relaxed as he sits stiffly in Windows' chair, and your gut tells you something's wrong.
You shuffle toward him, loudly enough to make your presence known without speaking, and hold something out to him which he warily accepts.
It's your favorite ball bearing, stolen from a defunct crane when you worked your first stateside construction job. Heavy and almost perfectly smooth after years of you running your fingers over it, it's been your go-to fidget for almost twenty years.
Mac eyes it suspiciously, and you settle on the floor nearby, back against Window's desk. You wait.
He starts fiddling with it, and after ten minutes of sitting in the dark, Mac sighs, shoulders drooping.
It feels a bit like walking through a minefield, but you manage to learn that the noise was bothering him. In his tired state, he's much more open to hearing your experience with panic like that, and though he doesn't say much, his exhausted eyes stay locked on you the entire time you speak. At length, both of you agree that it's time to return to the rec room. His fingers linger against your palm for a bit too long when he gives the ball bearing back, and he stays near you for the rest of the night.
Internally, Mac's fighting a war with himself. He'd spent so long ignoring all of the ways that you and him are similar, but you were so patient with him- so understanding- and it rocked him to his core. How can he continue to brush you off after you so effectively brought him back to the present using skills that you yourself explained to him months before? He'd laughed at you then. As he watches you settle into your usual divot on the couch, seemingly recharged and ready to join in the festivities once more, he makes a mental vow to treat you with more respect.
From then on, he starts noticing more about you. He sees the way that your hand drifts to your coat pocket to mess with the ball bearing when you're trying to listen to Garry's droning instructions; how you put in earplugs when the rest of the guys are perfectly fine with the deafening rumble of the snowmobile; your quick retreats that, oddly enough, coincide with him reaching his own limit and escaping to his shack to be alone.
Neither of you discuss it, but something about Mac just... softens over time in regards to you. He's more patient when you need him to repeat instructions; he 'just so happens' to have something on him when you forget that ball bearing on a long expedition; he's quick to stand up for you when the guys are being too hard on you, using his unspoken authority to redirect their invasive questions and jokes elsewhere.
Doesn't outright invite you to the shack- just jerks his chin toward the station's main door and mutters, "You comin'?" on a random night when he notices you're more fidgety than usual.
Nights out there are spent in intimate peace, with you reading or rambling about whatever comes to mind while Mac drinks and plays chess or just sits and listens to you.
He doesn't sleep much, but sometimes, you fall asleep sitting next to each other on the floor. You spend many a Monday with a sore neck after waking up with your head flopped onto his shoulder. His arm is always wrapped around you. You don't ask, and he continues to hold you while you sleep.
He tries to tone down the sarcasm if you have a hard time differentiating between jokes and the truth, and if you ever need an innuendo explained to you in a loud, brash voice, he's your man.
He'll deny that there's any sentimental motivation behind it when he gifts you one of the sweaters that he packed for the winter but never wears. "You like these things, so here." You inspect it, lips stretching into a knowing grin when you discover that the tags have already been cut off.
"It's how you like 'em, isn't it?" He mutters over the rim of his glass, looking anywhere but at you.
He gives your sleeve a short tug that's not supposed to mean anything. The way that his eyes dart between the sweater and your face, fingers tightening around his tumbler, betrays his nervousness. He lets out a huff of laughter as you tear off your ratty sweatshirt and toss it onto the rec room couch in favor of trying on the sweater. It's soft and recently washed, and a little too wide in the shoulders.
"It's perfect," You breathe, "Thank you."
What little you can see of his cheeks is suddenly bright red as he grunts, "Don't mention it."
A/N: Okay, I personally have big thoughts on these so it might be a little bit longer than usual.
There are two major ways that this can go: the first being, he’d like to have kids, but the trauma and lack of trust is making it difficult, or the second way which is he wasn’t planning on having kids anyway and he’s living like a bachelor (with you of course.) I personally think it would probably be the former, but it would take a lot of healing and work.
He makes you a deal, and that if he can handle an animal (more likely a cat than a dog because of obvious reasons) and it goes well, then he’ll consider a kid. It’s a big responsibility, a human life and he wants to make sure he doesn’t absolutely traumatize them.
He also will do his best to cut down on drinking because he knows damn well that he’s a bit of a functional alcoholic and it can be a bit of an issue. As mentioned before, he also wants to get over some of his traumas from the incident so that he can give his kid the best life he possibly can.
Besides dogs, one of the other big hurdles to healing is travel. He was far away from home in the middle of a freezing cold wasteland, and if he wants to do fun stuff with his kid, he has to help himself find coping mechanisms. Because he knows that kid is going to look up at him and go “daddy, can we go to Disneyland?”
If he gets to the point of having a kid, he is one of those “grumpy but a heart of gold” dads. He’s extremely protective, but also super affectionate to his kids. Would probably do anything for his kid, even if he didn’t like it, spoiling them rotten.
Warnings: Descriptions of panic/ptsd episodes, some language, hints at NSFW content at the end
Tags: Hurt/comfort, mild angst, soft and maybe slightly ooc Mac here, fem reader, fem body descriptors (reader has breasts), established relationship
A/N: HI ANON I love that I'm unofficially your MacReady outlet rn. My love for Kurt Russell knows no bounds
This one's short but I went for punchy feelings as opposed to length. Title is from Gorillaz Ticker Tape 'cause that's the grind I'm on rn. Hope you enjoy!
AO3 Link: Suspicions - damn_replicants - The Thing (1982) [Archive of Our Own]
Pairing: R.J. MacReady (The Thing 1982)/Reader
Warnings: Drinking, LOTS of language, descriptions of blades, blood, cutting flesh.
Tags: Pre-relationship, lotta pining, blood and some gore, typical The Thing activities, slow burn sorta, angst, aftermath of violence, angst with (sort of) a happy ending?? Ambiguous ending 'cause I'm evil, gender-neutral reader, no use of y/n.
Summary: A recap of The Thing with the reader as part of the team. What's it like for you and Mac to dance around your feelings, only to have them get in the way when everyone's paranoia is at its peak?
A/N: Thank you @the-trash-site for sending me this idea I love The Thing and Kurt Russell SO MUCH this was a delight to write I hope you like it :D
