Tucker's A Big Halloween Fan.

Tucker's a big Halloween fan.

Back when he was a kid, he liked the candy and staying up late.

In college, he'd go to the most amazing bonfires and house parties. The whole nine yards.

In blood gulch, scaring Church and Caboose was always a bonus. VIC shipped in costumes and fabrics, so he got pretty good at tailoring.

He started to love going with Junior and seeing people ooh and ahh at his "costume".

Post-canon, he helps Kimball plan Halloween balls and the cadets go trick or treating because they've never done it before. (Sarge gives out the biggest candy bars, Simmons hands out apples.)

Part 2 of the God!Tucker au (Part 1 here)

It takes a couple months for Tucker to gain his strength back, especially since Wash can’t be at his temple during the peace talks. He finds every excuse to pray to him, however, mumbling reassurances and promises to treat him right when he gets back. Tucker melts at every word, the glow in his godly skin returning bit by bit as Wash gives him all his devotion. He’ll take whatever he can get while he’s too weak to leave the temple, basking in the worship he hasn’t felt in ages. 

Once Wash does get back, oh. There’s nothing stopping Tucker from running into his devotees arms, grinning ear to ear as he twirled around with the same enthusiasm. 

From there, things only grow, Tucker completely besotted by this mortal so set on worshiping him with nothing but himself given in return. It’s a strange feeling to have, being pampered and praised and prayed to with nothing but his attention and adoration asked in exchange. It’s empowering in a way trinkets and food could never be. A form of worship that fills Tucker to his core and leaves him feeling warm and content.

Wash watches in great detail as his god transforms, the softness of his body returning, the glow in his eyes grow brighter and brighter, his godlike power coming back tenfold. Something rather prideful, maybe even a little possessive, burns in him knowing that it’s his offering of affection, his time spent worshiping him that is bringing Tucker back to life. It makes him treasure each kiss a little more, hold on to Tucker a little longer, let a bit more praise slip out than necessary. 

This is his god, his one true deity, and Wash intends to savor every moment with him.

Wash lays on his side on the pile of blankets and pillows he’s set up as a makeshift bed while he rebuilds the temple, eyes glued as Tucker twirls around; the animals that have made their home here are just as mesmerized at Tucker’s dancing as he is. He spins and dips and leaps all around the room, floor now clean of debris of tripping vines to show the beautiful marble underneath for Tucker to prance on.

He finishes with a flick of his hands and a twist of his feet, sinking to the floor just a few feet from Wash. Wash knows what he’s doing as he lays vulnerable on the ground, eyes half lidded as they look at him for approval. 

They light up brightly, irises shining as Wash claps and nods his amazement. Tucker smiles wide as he sits up, hair draping messily over his back and shoulders. 

With the sun streaming in through the hole still in the roof and Tucker’s skin glowing from sweat and the butterflies fluttering around him like a veil, Wash doesn’t doubt for a second that this man is—

Wait, butterflies?

Tucker all but shouts in joy as he clambers to his feet, arms reaching out for the swarm of colors hovering around him.

Wash watches in confusion as Tucker bounces around with the critters, scooping some of them into his hand and gently offering his face down for them to lean into. “Tucker? What’s going on?”

He turns then, proudly showing off the glittering colors fluttering in his hand to Wash as the man tilts his head curiously at his bubbly god.

“My babies are back!”

Wash tilts his head. “Babies?” 

Tucker nods excitedly, grinning wide enough to show all his pearly white teeth. “Each one is a spirit, a lost soul in need of guidance through death. They stick by me as loyal companions until they’re ready to move on.” 

He looks over the handful of shining critters, a few flying out of Tucker’s hands and into Wash’s face. If Wash didn’t know any better, he’d say he was being kissed by them.

“Aww, they like you.” Tucker coos at them some more, feather light touches brushed against their wings as the shimmer in the sun. “A lot more stuck around than I was expecting. I thought they’d have all moved on by now…”

Something in Wash’s heart aches at the prospect that Tucker wasn’t expecting anyone to care that he was gone, that someone choosing to stay by his side would be a surprise rather than the norm. Wash tilts his head as the butterflies sweep over him, curious about the new stranger keeping their god company. “Will I become one when I die?”

Tucker snorts, shaking his head with an amused smile as he moves to sit next to him, butterflies scattering around him so he can drop his hands. He purrs in approval when Wash laces their hands together, drawing him in until he’s sat firmly on his lap instead. “I sure hope not. I rather like you as a human.”

“Yeah? You don’t think I’d make a good butterfly?” Wash teases as he lets his head be pushed back, Tucker’s soft lips making their way up the column of his throat as Tucker hums against him. 

“I’m just privy to being able to kiss you.” As if to prove his point, Tucker guides Wash down to his lips, licking into his mouth with practiced ease. 

Wash sighs softly into it, giving Tucker exactly what he wants as they kiss deep and slow. Contentment settles into his bones, something pleasant settling in his chest and lighting him from the inside out. 

I could do this forever. Please let me do this forever.

Tucker notices the change in Wash’s kisses immediately, the biting edge of desperation seeping into their kisses as Wash tries to seer everything about his god into his brain. 

He pulls away, gently cradling Wash’s face to look at him with mild concern. “What?”

Never one to deny him anything, Wash answers honestly, his whole heart open and bleeding for the divine man sitting in his lap. 

“What’ll happen to me then? When I die?” He’s not asking out of fear nor to try and sway destiny to avoid the inevitable. Death is a concept Wash has long accepted as a truth of life, a necessity as a soldier on the battlefield. 

No, he simply wants to know he gets the honor and privilege of getting to spend more than one lifetime with Tucker.  

It takes a moment for Tucker to answer, head tilted in thought aa he looks over Wash. “All you wanted in exchange for your devotion was me, correct?” Wash nods firmly. He doesn’t need nor want anything else. “And you wish to stay with me, forever and always?” 

“Yes.” Wash replies immediately, holding a little tighter as he presses Tucker to him. Maybe it makes him crazy and codependent, but Wash decided the moment he laid eyes on Tucker that it would take the earth and sky to tear him away. 

Tucker smiles at him, kisses his face gently again and again and again, and then shares the best news Wash has ever heard in his life. 

“Then you will not die. Not as long as I live. You will stay my devoted little heart until the stars lose their shine and the earth crumples beneath our feet. You said you wanted me, Sir Washington? You have me. All of me. For the rest of time.”

It clicks for Wash what he’s asked for, what he’s being promised. A god to call his own, to have and to hold for all his life which is now as infinite as time itself. A lover who is as hopelessly devoted to him as he is; someone to have and to hold for the rest of eternity with no end.

Wash pulls Tucker into another kiss, putting every bit of his happiness into it as he grins. Tucker chuckles against him, kissing the joy right off his lips as Wash drags him further up his legs until they’re practically fused together. “You mean that? I get to have this forever? I get to love you forever?”

“Yes—“ Tucker is muffled by Wash’s insistent lips, his devotion and love pouring over into Tucker’s very being at a dizzying rate, overpowering everything in his brain with Wash, Wash, Wash.

There are tears falling down his face when they part, Tucker completely engulfed in pure unfiltered emotion that gushes out from his lover. Wash brushes them away, kissing softly over his cheeks as he coos and soothes and cradles Tucker.

“Yours. I’m yours.” Tucker finishes, wonderfully overwhelmed by the gentle worship of Wash’s hands on his body as he’s praised. 

Wash nuzzles against his face, caring and careful as Tucker shudders apart in his arms.

“And I’m yours.”

Haven't mentioned it much on here but I'm currently down in the south island ( I live in nz/aoteroa and am based up north) and the rvb brain rot had contuied into my travels so here's some totally not edited photos from blood gulch and sidewinder (Lake Tekapo)

(Also dont mind how short I look in the snow, I'm not the tallest of people and we were trying to get the mountains in the back lol)

Wash would be very insecure about sleeping with Tucker, whether for sex or for cuddles.

Not because he hasn’t been with someone since before Project Freelancer nor because he’s lackluster in bed. It’s not even insecurities about his body or his deteriorated mental state.

No, Wash is insecure about sleeping with Tucker because it takes him a full ten minutes to pull out all the knives he has stashed away on his person.

Tucker is both confused at how Wash keeps pulling knives out of his pocket and amused because this Looney Tunes ass just keeps on pulling knives out his pocket.

Wash is bright red by the end of it and Tucker is no help at all.

Tucker: So all those times I thought you were excited to see me—?

Wash: Shut up. Shut up right now.

Club au where the reds and blues work at a club that Carolina owns and totally doesn’t use as a cover for the undercover work she’s doing in the city with the Freelancers to take her corrupt asshole of a father down.

Church, being Carolina’s sister, hangs around the club basically every night since he gets free drinks and has become the official unofficial manager and recruiter for the place since Carolina and the Freelancers are usually too busy going on missions to take down warehouses or gang members working for her dad, planning missions in the rooms upstairs, or acting as innocent members of society that totally aren’t plotting to kill the Director and tear his illegal operations down.

The first of the reds and blues he hires is Sarge and Lopez, who are the club’s cooks. Sarge haphazardly tosses ingredients into a bowl and it comes out edible somehow? He doesn’t even toss in the necessary ingredients for the food; he put a chicken, a bag of chips, a whole bottle of garlic seasoning and a watermelon into the oven and out comes a beef burger with loaded fries. Lopez is in agony trying to figure out how he does it. But it always ends up good. In fact, it’s so good that it ups the club's foot traffic and creates a much better cover to all the cartel members coming in and out to talk with the Freelancers.

Grif and Simmons come next, Grif being the no nonsense bartender who gets to listen to all the juicy gossip going around the club as well as the annoying drama that gets dragged to his bar. He makes a damn good drink so the bar gets a little crowded when he’s clocked in and he complains endlessly to Simmons.

Simmons is a waiter/occasional assistant cook who can guess a person’s order just by looking at them (something about statistics and body language and a bunch of stuff that Grif calls him a nerd for) as well as know their intent and reason for being there with just a couple words. He weeds out a lot of undercover cops. They both get scolded since they constantly get distracted while flirting talking at the bar.

Tucker was next, a dancer with enough spunk and spite to fill the whole club and moves that leave everyone jaw dropped and star stricken. He loves dancing and loves entertaining the crowd even though he has to deal with a lot of shit (he can split-kick a sucker unconscious if they even think about touching him because unfortunately, people think they have the right to touch you when you show off a little skin and dance in front of a crowd. Sometimes people think they have the right to touch you just because you exist and they’re an asshole). But it pays well and he gets the freetime to spend with his son, who is the main reason he works hard for those extra tips to support him, so it makes up for the less favorable situations.

Caboose and Donut were hired one right after the other; Caboose being a bouncer who knows every patron by name (not always the right one) and can carry three full grown men over his shoulder with a smile on his face; Donut being a DJ/event planner/decorator extraordinaire and is basically just an assistant manager at this point with how much work he does with Church to keep the club up and running, but he refuses to take the title because it doesn’t “fit his vibes”.

All the reds and blues know some kind of illegal shit is going on with their bosses, but they stay willfully ignorant about it and only get involved when they think something will put the club at risk. They all love the club and all the people who work there so they work hard to keep it from being shut down by cops or blown to hell by a rival gang or whoever the fuck their bosses are fighting.

That being said, they’re all rather wary of the Freelancers despite Church’s insistence that they’re not bad people (mostly) and wouldn’t bring any harm to them (probably). Things are civil between the two groups, especially since the Freelancers are the one writing their checks, but there’s this underlying tension and nervousness that no one can seem to break.

The Freelancers are kind of disheartened that Church’s friends aren’t really keen to talk to them more than they have to, especially the dancer who hasn’t said more than a word to any of them and will literally get up and leave in the middle of a conversation to avoid talking to them.

This changes with the addition of Caboose and Donut, the two balls of sunshine giving the club a bit more energy, a lot more color, and a bit more balance.

No one is willing to anger the giant bouncer who can easily lift a table with one hand and the feisty DJ who can get you banned for life with another. There’s a lot less creeps roaming around and the whole club seems to relax at the changes Donut makes to the club and the safety Caboose brings.

Carolina seems to lighten up around Caboose, which in turn makes the reds and blues feel less on edge since she doesn’t look like she’s gonna murder one of them. York and North are finally able to get some more friendly conversation outta Grif and Simmons after Donut gets York and Simmons on a rant about hacking as North and Grif snicker at their geeky counterparts. (“I am not a geek! I am a nerd! There is a difference!” “The fact that you know the difference between a nerd and a geek makes you a geek.”)

Maine, who would sometimes work as a bouncer when not on a mission, finds Caboose rather companionable and likes to stand with him outside and listen to him chat during downtime. South comes by a lot more because Donut has somehow started a passive aggressive off between her, himself, and Tucker (and occasionally Church but he’s more overtly aggressive so he doesn’t really count). It’s a lot more fun than it sounds. Connie likes chatting with Donut and adores the gossip sessions she can get outta him, Grif and Simmons. There is a lot of tea to be shared around the bar.

Everyone agrees to keep Wyoming and Florida from meeting Sarge. That is a war crime waiting to happen.

Wash isn’t at the club often (none of the Freelancers are) and instead drowns himself in work with Carolina, planning and plotting and mapping and debating. He’s a bit more standoffish, a bit more gritty and a lot more like his Recovery One counterpart in canon. He’s cold, he’s calculative, he’s bitter, but he’s also patient and knows they can’t rush their takeover of the Director. It worries the other freelancers, seeing how mean and withdrawn he’s become, especially after knowing him as the upbeat, if nervous and oblivious rookie who did everything he was told with a smile and a lot of puns.

But he’s still convinced to come out for drinks to relax after a particularly stressful mission that went off without a hitch. For as distant as he’s become, he’s still a softy underneath and caves at York and North’s insistence that he needs to let loose a little after spending so much time under duress.

Wash hasn’t looked around the main level of the club since Tucker, Caboose, and Donut have been hired and is rather surprised by how lively and joyful the club has become. Caboose greets him with a smile at the door, happily introducing himself to the “new friend” coming into the club. He calls Wash “Mister Washingtub” and helpfully tells him that it’s performers night, so be nice and respectful to everyone who goes on stage or be kicked to the curb. Wash doesn’t doubt that with how massive the guy is.

When they walk in, he gets an armful of bright pink and a chipper blonde man guiding him and the other Freelancers to a reserved seating area near the front of the stage. York and North laugh at his face as he’s dragged by the hand of this upbeat man.

The whole club has changed since he was last there, much more open and welcoming, the decorations not as drab or outdated and the bar and stage have been renovated into something Wash can only describe as glamorous. Even the patrons and workers have changed, more smiles and jovial laughs echoing over the music, more people dancing on the floor or chatting at the bar. It’s so full of life and excitement that Wash is half convinced he walked into the wrong building.

He reacquaints himself with Simmons, the no longer skittish waiter with clumsy hands. He gets a polite smile from him before he rushes back to the bar to chat with Grif, the much more relaxed and not quite as grumpy bartender.

Wash is still reeling a little by the time the music stops and the man in pink is up on the stage starting up the event of the night. Singer after dancer after comedian go on and on throughout the night, entertaining the crowd and adding to the high spirits of the place.

It all comes to head during the final act, a dancer who has the whole crowd applauding before he’s even on stage.

Lavernius Tucker.

Wash is just as hypnotized as the rest of the crowd as Tucker swings and dips and spins around the pole on the center stage, showing impressive feats of strength as he pulls himself up and flips around with poise and precision. It’s beautiful and artistic and you can tell how much love and work has gone into the man’s routine.

The dance ends with thunderous applause and Wash sits there in awe at this graceful dancer taking bows and tips at the front of the stage.

Maybe he should come to the club more often.

Reds and Blues caffeinated beverages list (ft. Locus)

Simmons - Black coffee. Mid quality. Many cups Sarge - The blood of his enemies (He drinks sweet tea). Caffeinated yoohoo (where is he getting this.) Grif - Redbull Donut - Fancy coffee. Unicorn frappe. Some shit with so much milk in it it ceases to be coffee with a whipped cream and wafer cookie topping (It secretly has about 8 shots of espresso in it) Lopez - Motor oil Locus - No caffeine. Green tea if he's feeling indulgent Doc - Classy espresso shot (more than one will cause him a panic attack) O'Malley - The blood of his enemies (Classy espresso shot he's done a much worse job at making) Kai - Coke (Not the soda.) Church - Redbull Tex - Redbull as well Tucker - Some absurd flavor of gfuel Caboose - Not allowed to have caffeine anymore after the incident (But he can have soda) Wash - Caffeinated sugary powdered beverages from MREs in a protein shake container Carolina - Instant coffee OR classy espresso shot when she feels indulgent