jazzforthecaptain:

“You’ve been in a dark mood for a week,” Castiel said, taking his phone back from Jack’s fingers, “If this isn’t what was bothering you, what then?”

If Jack could have made a list of all the topics he was willing to discuss right this minute, his foul mood over the past week was at the bottom. Strike that. It would be on another list, on another sheet of paper, and he’d set it on fire. Thankfully, he had a brilliant means to sidestep the conversation without even needing a lighter. “Not important right now,” Jack barked, “call in the team. We need to find out what caused that – and how it hit the Torchwood satellites.”

“Because they have the word ‘TORCHWOOD’ painted on the side, and blue disco lights on the dash?” Castiel muttered, mobile to his ear. Jack rolled his eyes and sat back down at the control console, minimizing the news feeds.

“Honestly, that was one SUV,” Jack retorted, opening up the satellite diagnostic tools, “You need to let that go.”

Little teaser for the Harkstiel Holiday Advent. 😀

If i had the ability to reply I would tell you this is awesome, instead I’ll reblog it and tell you it’s awesome.

jazzforthecaptain:

Imagine Castiel reading to Jack while he heals. Maybe he can’t accelerate the process. So he reads to Jack and brings him food.

Imagine him sitting on one end of the couch at one in the morning, with Jack’s head in his lap, stroking his hair and reading Sherlock Holmes to him while they wait for Jack’s shattered knee to set.

And sometimes Jack dozes a bit, listening to Cas’s voice, and sometimes he explains things to Cas that he doesn’t understand. He tells Castiel about Victorian London, what it was like. Or one of the stories will mention a place and Jack will smile and mention a detail that the stories didn’t contain. Or Cas will tell Jack things that he didn’t notice at the time.

And it still hurts and throbs but Jack treasures the time nonetheless, For once forced to stay still and with nothing else in the universe banging down their door.

At the ball – janto321 (FaceofMer) – Superwood – Fandom, Supernatural, Torchwood [Archive of Our Own]

At the ball – janto321 (FaceofMer) – Superwood – Fandom, Supernatural, Torchwood [Archive of Our Own]

jazzforthecaptain:

But Captain Jack Harkness singing Christmas carols to Castiel, though.

He couldn’t give a cream-filled cherry spice flip about the religiously significant ones, but he’s always loved the effect they have on people and the way the tunes endured (and changed) all through his time on Earth.

Some of them hurt, for different reasons.

He sings them anyway.

And Jack likes the way Castiel looks at him when he does it. The amused acknowledgment of irony; the softening smile. The barrage of Castiel’s curiosity, ferreting out Jack’s experiences at Christmastime: with war, with the USO, with London, with Torchwood. With so many people. Jack answers a few questions; evades others. Asks a few of his own.

Some carols hurt a little less now.

jazzforthecaptain:

Here’s your angsty harkstiel headcanon for the afternoon.

Jack met Castiel by chance before he met the Doctor. Maybe it was war-torn London, maybe it was some far flung planet far in the future, where one lonely traveler comforted another. He has no idea what an impression he left on Castiel, or even what he was.

But even if he’s never seen the angel since, he’s dreamed about him. Not often, maybe a handful of times a century, but boy, are they memorable. Flying biplanes over France like a pair of sunfishing dolphins. Screaming down a lonely Umbrian road on an old motorcycle, spires of trees and gilded fields whipping by, Castiel a hot wall against his back and hips. Spitting gravel from the tires of a jeep at midnight in a hilly wasteland, and this time Castiel is driving, and Jack has his hand between the stranger’s thighs.

All that heat and crazy speed and joy. Jack never sees the unwinding dragon, the storm, the smoke of the wildfire behind them. Never knows that what they’re running from are the worst of his nightmares. Never knows he’s being watched and protected.

One lonely traveler, wounded and trapped in the dark, does what he can to shield the man who once did the same for him.