jacksonomalley-blog

[jacksonomalley-blog]

graysonwells:

Grayson was tired. The type of tired which would have him in bed all weekend in and out of sleep. His last job had left him worse for wear. Each kill somehow harder than the last. Infected these days knew how to fight, it meant more for them apparently. But he wasn’t going to miss out on the party he’d organized for Jackson’s addition to the brewery. Jack was basically family now, even though the tall blonde had his own brothers. Gray felt a kinship with him, one he never experienced as a child.

So, wiggling into his suit with breaks to down some pills and a few shots of one of Jackson’s blends was enough to get him there. And while he was tired of talking to people, he put forth the effort. Everyone attending was someone he liked – for the most part. 

He kept pacing back and forth – making sure he mingled and said hello to everyone. He still hadn’t had a chance to speak with the man of the hour. He saw him talking to Josh, a fellow Death Dealer and his friend’s brother. The glancing seemed to work because before he could stop Jackson, he was pulling him into a tight bear hug, one that made his body scream out in pain. Practiced at hiding his wounds, he only managed a tight grunt.

“Hey,” his voice got lost in Jackson’s chest. “I’m pumped too, but if you squeeze any tighter, my eyes are gonna pop out, man.” He pounded on his back until he was let go and gasping for air. “You having a good time,” he wheezed as he looked up at Jack.

It took a moment before the pat on the back registered and Jackson released his grip on the other man. If he were being honest, the act of giving the hug hurt a lot more than he had thought it would, and he was a little worried shifting back into a standing position would upset his injuries further. That’s what he got for drinking enough to forget that he had a bruised rib among other wounds. He winced slightly as he straightened up, masking the expression with a wide grin. He’d been meaning to talk to Grayson all night, but it seemed that every time he’d caught sight of the man, the next second he was nowhere in sight. It just gave Jack an excuse to pick up another drink before finding Grayson to thank him for everything. “God, I haven’t had this much fun in a long time, Gray,” he replied, nodding, “Even though I don’t know most of these people, I just can’t help but be excited by it all.” He giggled slightly, hiding the sound in his glass as he took a sip. His eyes turned back at the crowd again, something they'd been doing all night, before returning to Grayson. He then realized his business partner looked a little more worse for wear than usual, and his brows knit together. He could almost swear it looked like Gray had been in a fight recently. “How about you. You doin’ alright?”

Dancing on the Ceiling | Gray & Jack

[jacksonomalley-blog]

hxzxlhxcks:

Hazel gave the man a look over, her dark eyes obviously scanning him; not in a way that was flirtatious, but in a way that a computer might scan a card. She took a brief overview of him, a small half-smile appearing on her face as her eyes found his face once more. Gigs quickly ate the bit of sandwich, glad for something other than pure scraps for food. “..thanks.” The words came out softly, and almost barely audible. “He usually stays by my side, but I guess you caught his attention.” She admitted, offering a nod. 

Jackson gave a chuckle as he fed the dog, letting the pup lick the remaining crumbs from his fingers. “Don’t sweat it,” he said, turning up to the girl and flashing her a brief smile, “If I were him, I’d find me too. I’ve heard I make killer sandwiches.” He gave a half-shrug before turning his attention back to the dog showing his empty palms. “That’s the last of it, buddy. ‘M sorry.”

[jacksonomalley-blog]

markusisms:

Markus didn’t have time to object, not that he would. As he watched the other grab the pen, he only shook his head softly before cleaning his hands off with a rag. He watched, slightly curious as to what Jackson was writing, only to lose interest and sigh loudly. “What you getting?” Nodding to the pad of paper, “Find any kitchen supplies and I might have something for you.” As much as Markus enjoyed leaving New Seattle, it was harder to go on trips outside of the city when you had a job. Maybe once the meat ran low, he would be able to get out for a bit.

Jackson’s brows raised after Markus’ question, writing down the last of what he could remember. “Hmm?” he sounded, turning his attention back to the butcher. “Oh. Right yeah, uh. You know I’m always cravin’ your steaks, Mark. What kinda supplies you need? I can take a look around.” There was also bound to be a renegade assignment coming up, so he could always try and find what the other man needed.

[jacksonomalley-blog]

hugoxxlehman:

“If I’m going to be completely honest with you I’m extremely drunk right now, like hell I see two of you right now. Two very attractive you’s if I might add.” Hugo said with a soft bitter laugh as he glanced over at the other. “But you’re kind of hot and I’m hot so if you’re into it I wouldn’t mind making out with you right now.” He said with a shrug. “I mean everything’s been so tense around here so like why the fuck not make out with someone? Seriously when was the last time someone loosened the fuck up around here? I’ve been here my entire life and I have never seen anyone actually let loose for once. ” 

Jackson watched the young man ramble on, tossing the hand towel over his shoulder as he listened. He’d been bringing drinks all night, and so it was only a matter of time. A brow raised slowly and he gave a short chuckle. He turned around without a word, poured a glass of water and placed it firmly in front of the other. “Drink, I think you’re letting a little too loose, buddy.”

[jacksonomalley-blog]

commandercruz:

“Innocent. Interesting. And how do you classify innocent people? I think it’s naive to think that anyone in this city is innocent. Are you? I’m certainly not.” Another sick smile. He could smell the rage building form the tall blond. It was thick and permeated the room. Andres licked his lips and readjusted the front of his pants. He hadn’t felt this thrilled in ages. “How do you know that nothing isn’t being done about it? You can only assume. It seems you like to make a bit of a jackass of yourself. I can tell that about you. And I care about the city. Naive to think otherwise.” His words were saccharine. Enough to put anyone listening into a diabetic coma. 

“People die within the walls and become walkers. That’s a fact of life. I know very well what I’m talking about. More than a man who makes alcohol.” Maybe he was laying it on too thick. But Jackson was on the verge of breaking. All it would take was a little push. “You should probably drink a little more. You seemed stressed.” A wry chuckle followed. 

There was that smile again, the one that made Jack’s skin crawl and settled a heavy weight of anger in his gut. Andres was taunting him, pulling at Jackson’s strings and flaunting the protection he had as commander of the council. Jackson could only bite his tongue, knowing he was more than likely to say something incriminating in response. Jackson’s jaw clenched tightly as his grip on his glass continued to build, eyes trained at the counter in front of his seat as he tried to stay the urge to start swinging.

By now, every single syllable out of Andres’ mouth pushed Jackson closer to the edge, making his blood pitch to a boil. But it was that last teasing phrase that toppled him over. With one smooth motion, Jack slammed down his empty glass onto the counter, shattering it upon impact. The room fell silent as shards cut into his hand and he finally turned to look at the councilman. “Fuck you,” he whispered low, his whole body gone rigid. The pricks of pain shooting up his arm the only things keeping him calm as arms suddenly appeared around him.

[jacksonomalley-blog]

hxzxlhxcks:

Hazel looked panicked, small feet quickly half-jogging in an attempt to catch up to her dog again. For some reason, he had run off, completely ignoring all of her commands. The phone she had been fixing was stuffed in her jacket pocket and a large backpack was slung over her shoulders as she tried to follow the mutt. “Gigs!” Her throat sounded dry as he finally stopped, right in front of the person. Hazel was wary, but they seemed nice enough. She slowed down, watching Gigs at their feet for a moment before her dark eyes met theirs. “That’s…my dog. Thanks for stopping him.” Hazel spoke softly. 

With a bite left of his sandwich, Jackson was met with a yip by his feet. He lifted a brow in confusion at the sight of the dog. It was soon followed by a worried-looking girl. “Cute little guy,” he replied, “Though I don’t think I had much to do with him stopping.” He lowered the bit of his sandwich to the creature, its tail beginning to wag. “Knew it. In it for the food like everyone else, huh?” he chucked as he asked the dog.

[jacksonomalley-blog]

chiefbennett:

Although New Seattle resembled a wasteland in some ways, it was huge. She had lost her way several times in the city before and that day she had done it again. Jackie stood still on the street and scanned the many buildings that surrounded her until she spotted someone walking her way. “Excuse me? I was hoping you could point me towards the direction of the nearest grocery I thought it was that way but I feel like I’ve been going in circles for twenty-five minutes.”

Jackson’s hand shifted on its hold on the case of liquor he was bringing over to the bar, stored discreetly in an unmarked box. It wasn’t unheard of for people to get jumped when carrying the littlest thing of value, let alone six bottles of hard alcohol. People got desperate sometimes, so when the woman stopped him, his shoulders tensed for the briefest moment. A short breath of a laugh left him, his body relaxing, “You should’ve passed one on your way over here. C’mon, I’m headed in that direction anyway,” he said, tipping his head as he started to walk again, expecting her to follow. “New around here, I take it,” he remarked, glancing back at the woman.

[jacksonomalley-blog]

highbcltage:

why should i resolve things peacefully when i can fucking punch you in the face

[jacksonomalley-blog]

edwardswill:

The mission was going to be simple. There had been rumors — with quite a bit of substance — that there was a person around town treating those who weren’t immune like the trash they thought they were, and it didn’t take long until someone gave Will a heads-up about it. After that, it took him less than a day to get everything ready, and had even asked his favorite mission accomplice to join him.

“Jack!” Will called out, catching up to the other Renegade on their way out. Once he caught up to him, he slapped his shoulder with his hand in greeting. “How’s it goin’, man? Ready for the assignment? It’s gonna be a good one.”

Jack had been eager to go on a mission for weeks. Every chance he’d gotten, he’d make up some excuse to find Will or Talia to check in on things, to see if there had been any word of someone stepping over the line they all toed. When he eventually resolved to be patient and just wait to hear from command, that’s when Will found him.

It was blessing that it was a quite set-up, the hit being organized and planned within a day of him being notified. If it took any longer, Jack may very well have pulled his own hair out. So of course, he was practically bounding out the door ahead of his commander when the night came, knife tucked into his boot and pistol under his belt in case it came to that. He only slowed slightly so that Will could catch up. “Any assignment’s a good one, Will. I’ve been goin’ fuckin’ crazy with how quiet it’s been,” he replied, clapping a hand to Will’s back in response. He glanced around their surroundings, the cover of night already meaning the streets were quiet and nearly everyone else nearby was asleep. “Give me the low-down, boss. It’s a Dealer, mid-twenties, sloppy council job someone figured out? How’re we taking care of ‘em. I’ve got my knife and nine mil,” he said, the words tumbling from his mouth in a hushed tone before he could stop them.

what could possibly go wrong?

[jacksonomalley-blog]

Dancing on the Ceiling | Gray & Jack

@graysonwells

Jack found himself surrounded by people he didn’t really know, his fourth, possibly fifth, glass of whiskey in hand. He had a dopey smile on his face, his eyes tracking their way around the modestly decorated distillery wing of the Wells Brewery, the space so fresh that the space still smelled faintly of concrete, wood, and varnish. He couldn’t help himself from looking around every few minutes, taking in every detail he could find. And this was all his. Well, not completely his, exactly, but still it was the most substantial thing to his name he’d ever had. 

He realized his attention had drifted away from the conversation he was having, his gaze turning back to his brother to find a knowing smile on the other man’s face. 'You’re really fucking happy, huh, Jack?' Josh asked, a chuckle underneath his tone. Jackson took in a breath, a grin on his face as he let it back out, his split lip making him wince slightly. “Fuck, you have no idea. I still can’t believe this is all real, that this party’s kinda for me, you know?” he said shaking his head at himself as he glanced at the other guests, most of them friends or family of those involved in the construction, or longstanding employees of the brewery. His gaze eventually fell on a familiar face, and if Jackson were a more sentimental man, he may very well have shed a tear. There was so much to be thankful for, but perhaps most of all was Grayson. At the very least he wasn’t on the verge of crying from the throbbing in he left arm anymore - the booze saw to that. He knew better now than to go on a renegade mission the night before an evening of celebrations. Jack must have been staring a little too long, because there was a nudge against his elbow. 'Looks like your business partner’s looking to congratulate you, Jackie. I should probably get home anyway, it’s getting late.' And with a brief solid hug, Josh was heading towards the exit before Jack could argue, the sudden surge of pain blooming in his rib with the pressure. He turned back to look at Grayson.

Jack tugged at the lapels of his jacket as he made his way across the room, the feeling of being underdressed appearing again. No matter how hard he tried, he’d always feel more comfortable in his regular black tee and jeans, and a last-minute decision left him in exactly that, except with a tailored suit jacket thrown over top. The black shirt could at least hide the blood from any unhealed cuts and keep them from staining the jacket. As Jack approached, he decided against a standard greeting and closed the last few yards between them with a few quick strides and pulled Grayson into a hug. “Gray, I’m so fuckin’ pumped!” he said, his voice a little strained, not from the hug, but rather the fact that he forgot he may have broken a rib. He released the other man quickly and swallowed the urge to groan.

[jacksonomalley-blog]

opheliamorse:

“When was the last time we did this?” O echoed the question and thought about it for a moment longer, shrugging her shoulder. “Probably not that long ago, because it’s unlike us to be clean for too long, plus my memory is shit to begin with.” She laughed as she ran the needle through the flame before she disinfected the wound and moved closer to him. “Shut the hell up. Whether I’m rusty or not, it’s better than the shit jobs you keep doing on yourself. Now, drink and be quiet. I need to concentrate.”

Jack sucked in air between his teeth, “Uh- a couple years maybe?” he replied with a short shrug. It would’ve been after a renegade mission they did together or something, but he couldn’t quite recall. “Been taking too many punches to the head too, huh?” he teased about her memory. Bar fights definitely weren’t doing him any favors. “Christ,” he muttered, taking a long pull from the bottle before settling in his seat. He steadied his breathing, trying to focus a chair across the room as she moved closer, bracing for the needle. “Alright, do it.”

[jacksonomalley-blog]

commandercruz:

“And what type of people are that? What proof do you have? It seems you give a shit, so it’s not nobody.” Amusement creeped up in his tone. He forced himself to pull the smirk back. It wouldn’t do to look like he was enjoying himself so much. “And how do you know there isn’t concern? We don’t discuss everything with citizens. That’s not how you run a city. But I can’t expect you to know anything about it.” He noticed Jackson’s jaw tighten, a smug sense of satisfaction blooming in his chest. “I think the forces are known. Walkers are a hell of a thing. We are doing both at the same time. The wall is essential or do you disagree?” He took a long sip of his drink. It joined the satisfaction settling in his belly. He swore he felt his cock stir at the other’s anger. “Enjoying yourself then?”

“Innocent people. The list of eulogies in the papers are enough. There shouldn’t be so many people dying when this place is supposed to be safe.” It wasn’t like Jack disagreed with the statement, but he was far from unaware of what was happening, of why people were dying. But he couldn’t exactly say that out loud without painting a target on his back. “That’s fuckin’ bullshit. If there’s concern, then why isn’t anything being done about it? No special police task force, no crack down on violence within the walls. You’re a load of shit just like any other politician. All talk to make it sound like you care about anyone else but yourself,” he spat. Everything out of Andres’ mouth was a lie, and Jack could almost swear the man looked proud of it. But I can’t expect you to know anything about it. About running a city? About what the council actually stood for? Jackson was on the verge from getting up and leaving before he did something he really regretted, his hand white-knuckled around his pint. “There aren’t fuckin’ walkers within the walls, and you know that. The walls are doing a mighty fine job keeping them out, but there still people dying here.” Jackson could just about feel the veins in his temples bulging out of his head, suppressing the next string of accusations with the last few gulps of his drink. He wondered if he could get away with flat out punching a councillor in the face. “Yeah. Fuckin’ peachy.”

[jacksonomalley-blog]

[jacksonomalley-blog]

commandercruz:

The tension was palpable and it made Andres happy. He liked it when people got upset with him – their irritation creeping closer toward the surface. Another smile, this time more genuine. “It would be nice to talk to the dead to get their opinion, but that’s not how any of this works, is it? Tell me, Mr. O’Malley, are you accusing the council of something?” He drained his glass and held it out to be refilled. He didn’t need to ask, the bartender knew better. “Sure. Especially common in New Seattle.” His heart thrummed in his chest – waking up for the first time tonight. It was thrilling to have someone speaking to him in public with such open disdain. “Just trying to quell some fears. It’s also nice to meet the people I work for. And is it your night off?”

“I never said that. It’s just convenient that only certain people are ending up dead. And it doesn’t look like people are giving two shits about it.” He tried to play up the concerned citizen card. For all the commander knew, Jackson could just be a keen observer noticing the swathe of infected deaths that crop up in New Seattle. “With everything you and the council do for the city, I’d expect there to be more concern about people dying within the walls and going missing.” His jaw tightened again, his heart beating hard in his chest as he pushed out his words meant to lead the other man away from his allegiances. His brothers always said his big mouth would be the death of him. “I have friends and family worried about losing people they care about from unknown forces. Why don’t you deal with those fears instead of playing up the stability of the walls,” he said, taking a large gulp of his own drink. “Wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.”

[jacksonomalley-blog]

diegoxrodriguez:

“Yeah. It is sometimes…but everyone double, sometimes triple, checks everyone else’s work.” 

“Figure it’s got to be on demand.” He knew many people liked to take up drink when given the time to, had suffered at the hands of more than a few violent drunks.

Jackson nodded along. "That sounds reassuring at least,” he remarked.

“Yeah, you can always count on people wanting to drown their problems in booze,” he said with a small shrug, knowing he fell into that category more often than he’d like to admit. “Speaking of which, I should probably get some sleep,” he glanced at his watch, “Got some things to take care of tomorrow.”

[jacksonomalley-blog]

opheliamorse:

“Don’t make me come in there, boys.” Ophelia called out while she rummaged through her things and gathered up all that was needed to stitch Jackson back together. Upon her return, she noted Diesel in the corner, already sound to the world. “I’m proud of you, I’ll give you a lollipop when I’m done.” The brunette teased as she plopped down at his side and proceeded to put her object in his lap. The bottle, however, she handed it to him so he could drink while she prepared the needle and thread. “You got a light on you?” She then asked, realizing she had placed hers in her jacket in the bedroom. It was to disinfect the needle and so nothing could move forward without that last item.

“Ooh, a yellow lemon one?” he replied, with childlike excitement in his voice. He’d be lying if he said it was all just for show, but he played along nonetheless. A short chuckle left him as he accepted the bottle, more than happy to take a few swigs before Ophelia got to stitching him up. He quickly swallowed down a mouthful before humming a sound of affirmation, digging a lighter out of his pocket. He handed it to her, narrowing his gaze, “When was the last time you did this?” he asked, "If you’re rusty, I think the bandage will hold well enough.” He gestured weakly at the butterfly bandage stuck over his right brow, the straight gash extending out from underneath it.

[jacksonomalley-blog]

cade-prescott:

Cade shook his head. “I don’t take hand outs.” He said firmly. He knew that he was being slightly harsh. Taking a deep breath he let it out. “Sorry, I just. I don’t like taking things that other people have earned. I’m an abled bodied person, I shouldn’t take something that others might need more.” He shrugged and nodded towards his house. “Come on, I’ve got an extra bow you can borrow.”

Jackson’s brows raise at Cade’s sudden sharpness before he nodded with the explanation. “I respect that. You got a good head on your shoulders,” he said, giving Cade a warm smile. It was a mindset not many people had in desperate circumstances like these nowadays. Jackson counted himself lucky for what he had, and luckier for knowing people like Cade. “Lead the way.”