#( kath mouthed off to someone while following a story )

[orchestrahearts]

[ intrude ] one muse walks in on the other while they’re treating their own wound.  for Katherine from Jack at cowboynewsie

nonverbal meme.

Katherine winced when she pressed the ice to her cheek. The cold was a shock on her face, but it did numb the bruise that was there. She jumped when she heard the door open, Jack walking in. She quickly let the ice drop. “Do you ever knock?”

[inquisitive-mess]

Tarts of Remembrance

This connected to the drawing I did for it. I know it’s kind of late to do a story about it, but I was in the mood to do one. Plus I feel like this would give some light on Ann felt about Anne Boleyn’s death.

Jane Parker by @altairtalisman

Mentioned Katherine “Kath” Tudor by @ellielovesdrawing and Amalia “Mali” by @pandora-dusk

What should of been a normal day for Ann turn into experience she wouldn't forget. It started when she was in her shop finishing a work order. She was rebuilding laptop from scratch for a customer. They want high definition screen, large RAM, longer battery life, additional USB port, and latest computer programming. This took her some time to do with many countless hours of her sitting and looking at the screen to make sure it was running right. She also took necessary breaks from the computer to avoid straining her eyes. She got up from her stool she was sitting on, moved her shoulders around, took her glasses off to place them on her head, and decided to walk around her shop a bit as the final program was uploading. She walk into the storage room to see if she has enough inventory in stock or need to order some. As she was doing that, the front door chimed indicating that customer walk in to the shop and she head to the front of the store to greet them. When she walk to the front, she saw it was Jane P and smile a bit. What started as Jane accidentally walking inside Ann’s shop to get her radio fix turn into a small friendship. Sure there was small hiccups where Ann got little emotional seeing her due to their past history where Jane was kind of responsible for Howard’s death later her own death when they redeem her crazy, but they were able to talk out civilly and forgive each other. And the incident where Jane and her girlfriend, Mali, decide to burst into her shop half naked to avoid Mali’s sister wrath. That would be a day Ann isn’t going to forget about. As far as Ann knew, Jane and Mali were the only people who know she was back and working here. Jane promise Ann that she will keep it a secret, until Ann was ready to tell the queens she was back. She also told Mail the same thing too and she agree to it.

Ann walk to the counter as she said in a calm tone “Hey Jane, what brings you here? Did your radio break again or some else broke that needs repair?” Jane shook her head and walk to where Ann while answering her “Nothing like that. I don’t have anything broken yet and radio is running as fine as it could be thank to your repair. Just on my home from dance rehearsal and figure I’ll drop by here on the way. Do you have time to spare?” Ann crossed her arms and reply “Fortunately yeah. I just got finish with an order and wait for last installment to load completely, so I call the customer to let them know it’s ready. After that, i’m free for the rest of the day.” Ann notices something Jane was holding a white box, turn her head, and said “What’s in the box?” Jane place the box on the counter and told her “Well, Kath, a reincarnated you wouldn’t know and owns a bakery, came to the theater with this box. It’s test samples of treats she want to sale, but I guess she wants an opinion on how they are. I offer to test them and was going to share with Mali.” Jane then said as she rub the back of her head “I’m still bad about how that turn out. I didn’t think we would have to run all the way here half naked and hide in your shop from her sister.” Ann sighed and reply “It’s not like it the first time I seen someone half naked. I work at the palace, so it doesn’t fazed me. You guys were lucky I didn’t have anyone in here when it happen. I couldn’t imagine the problem this would have cause, if someone was. And already forgave you guys, so it’s okay. And I hope Mali like them.” Ann smiled a little after saying this.

Jane look at Ann, place her hand on the box, and ask her “Do you want one? I'm sure Mali and I can’t finish all of it. Plus it would nice for Kath to have more input on them and have outside opinion, rather then friends thoughts.” Ann raised her hand and told her “Sorry, but I have to pass. I really don’t have a sweet tooth. Plus I don’t want to intrude on your guys lovely snack.” Jane shook her head and said “ No, I insist. And it’s the least we can do for hiding us in your storage room.” Ann knew she isn’t going take no for answer and would lead to back and forth talking, so she sighed and answered “Fine, but only one. I don’t want to ruin my dinner later on. I do need to eat a proper meal.” Ann begin to walk to the back and ask Jane before she left “ Can’t eat these without something to drink. Do you want me get you canned coffee or bottle water? Sorry I don’t have many choices. The shop doesn’t have a kitchen, but I do have fridge to keep my drinks and food when I bring some.” Jane look little confuse when she heard canned coffee. She didn't know you could get coffee in a can, but remember that there canned tea, so it shouldn't be too far off. Jane replied "Coffee, please." Ann nodded and head to her workspace, where the fridge was. She took out two cans, closed the door, and head back to the front. She place the cans on the counter near the box and hand one to Jane. Jane took it and thank her. She crack open it, took a sip, put it down, and said "It's not bad. I prefer my caramel macchiatio, but this is acceptable." She took another sip and said " You know was funny, your sister has coffee addiction and can't live without it, so I'm wondering if it runs in the family." Ann chuckled a little as she open hers and answered " I see that happening. She always stay up all night writing or learning something when I used to serve her. Unfortunately to tell you that I don't have coffee addiction. I only drink these whenever I feel like it and only get these because they're convenient and lot more cheaper to buy than those overpriced coffee shops. Don't get me wrong. I do go to them, but I can't imagine spending that much money and waiting in those line for cup of coffee everyday." Jane heard this and kind agree with her on that part.

They both turn to the box, Jane open it up, and look at all of sweets. There were different types of it and Ann didn't know which one to get. As Ann mentioned before, she didn't have a sweet tooth, so she didn't know which one were too sweet for her. Ann decide to grab a tart because it look the less sugary and look at it before taking a bite into it. As she chewing on it and enjoying the taste of it, this remains her of something, but can't remember what. She know this can't be from her current life, since she would remember that due to that she wasn't allow to get any sweets growing up and when she was able to, it make her feel a little sick. She look at the tart to see what was in it and something clicked in her head. She stare at it and thought "It can't be..." She took another bite of it and sure enough it was it, but how. She remember that no one was allowed to these, except for him and the family. She remember that perfectly when it happen and how sad she was because she really like them. Jane noticed Ann react and ask "Are you okay there? Did you get something you didn't like? You can choose something else. There a lot to pick from." This snapped Ann out of it, she shook her head, looked at Jane, and told her "It's nothing like that, but you should try this tart though. It's something." Ann hope that Jane would taste them and remember what these are, since she was there too when it happen. Jane looked confused on how Ann was acting, but she listen to what she said. Jane grab the tart and bit into it, which Jane had reaction from it and looked at Ann. She ask "Are these...." Ann smiled a little and answered "I guess they become public after our lifetime. The tart we used to eat when we served as ladies/maids in waiting at the palace." With that, they didn’t say anything afterwards. How could they? They used eat these after hard days work and talk to other maids/ladies as they enjoy them. These were made for them, but that ended when the king found about them and forbid anyone from eating them, unless it was made for him and his family.

After thinking a bit, Jane ask “ So Ann, what was your first time having these?” Ann crossed her arms, closed her eyes, and reply “It was a couple of weeks when I first started working at the palace. I was so young and innocent back then. I was so eager to learn everything and be as good as mother. I worked day in and day out trying to figure things out without messing up. Once day when I was done with my work, I was so tired and was ready to rest, but I was also hungry. I forgot to eat lunch that day and knew the kitchen didn’t have food left, so I was going to rest with an empty stomach when I smell something good. I follow it which lead me to the kitchen and saw Anne was baking something in it. I hide behind the wall and spy on her to see what she made. When I saw what she made, it made my mouth water and I wanted to try it, but knew I couldn’t since it was unladylike to invite yourself to something when you’re not welcome. As I was thinking, my stomach growl, which catch Anne attention, and she told me to come out. I came out and Anne smiled at me. She ask me if I want one and I politely decline, until my stomach growled again. Anne told me I can take one since she made it for other eat too, so it would no harm down. I then took one and ate it. It tasted so good and made Anne chuckle a bit. She ask for my name and she told me hers. We soon walk out the kitchen with tarts in hand and head to other were to enjoy them.” Jane listen to Ann’s story and thought it cute. She wish her story was that enjoyable, but it was just bland and boring. Jane said happily “That sounds amazing. To think you were there when Anne made them all though years ago. Bet you had some more stories about you two” Ann shook her head and answer “ Not really. I just follow Anne as we did our duties and I help her out with tarts to share with everyone, until the king found out them and banned us to eat them. I was sad when it happen and didn’t think I would eat them again, until Anne become queen and found a way for sneak some for me since she knew I like them. She became a role model to me and wanted to be like her. I took in all of the teaching she taught me and became devote to the religion she was in. Of course that where it all end” When she said, she lower her arms and open her eyes with a sad look.

Jane notice this and spoke sadly “ Ann...” Ann interrupt her as she raise one hand, place on the counter, and talked “ I know what you are going to say. You’re going to tell me it wasn’t my fault that she died, how there nothing I could of done to stop her beheading, or I shouldn’t had this guilt, since I was child when this happen, but I can’t. I look up to her as a role model, I want be like her, and I let her died. How am I suppose to feel? I feel like I let her down and her blood was on my hands. I know there nothing I couldn’t done to stop it, but I feel like I could of done something. Talk some sense into you, find the person who falsely accused her of adultery, anything would do. I fail her as a student and a terrible friend” As she was saying this, he crutch her hand tight and started to cry. Jane saw this and felt bad about it. She already felt bad for what happen to Boleyn and knew she was partly blame for it. She walk around the counter where Ann was and hugged her. She then explain to her “I don’t think Anne blame you for what happen to her. She know who to blame for that and I still have some guilt for it. I pretty sure she doesn’t expect a child to stop a king and the whole court, but I do know that she would be trilled to see you again when you are ready and she don’t want you to carry this guilt. I know my words isn’t much, but I can saying as a friend that you are not a failure or terrible person. You forgave me for what happen to Howard and took on this burden that you shouldn’t taken. That alone tells me that you are a better person that anyone in that court and people who condemned her.” This made Ann smile a little and said “Thanks” Jane replied “Just paying back the kindness you gave me.” Jane let go of Ann and said “Now that over with, do you want to continue enjoying these sweet or are you done?” Ann look at the box of sweets and look at the tarts. She turn back at Jane and answered “ Well, I do want you to save some for Mali, so I take one more tart and leave you guys the rest.” Ann grab a tart and bit into it as she drank some of her drink. Jane smile a bit as Ann went back being happy. Jane still has some guilt that may take time to heal, but it nice to see that she isn’t alone with it and has someone to talk to about it. Jane walk back to her drink and drank some of it as they talk about bittersweet memories. Maybe they can both overcome the guilt they have someday.     

[that-gt-and-vore-stuffs]

Karma’s A Bitch

So....I hear that people like my fearplay and I’ve been meaning to write something for @that-one-fandom-vore-blog ‘s shifter!verse for a long ass time. So that means.....

STORY TIME!!

I hope I have managed to do something worthy of your amazing AU. I absolutely love it and hope you can enjoy my attempt at writing for it

Vore under the cut :)

Something snapped. He felt it. Something snapped inside him. Something broke and his vision flooded with a red. A deep, crimson, blood red. His fingers twitched at his side, slowly curling into fists. His blinded eyes bore into the two his stare was fixed on, his pupils slimming to slits like that of a snake or cat. His joints and bones ached with an urge to change. An urge to move. An urge to shift. His vision drowned in red as he turned tail and ran.

Lucky for him, they followed.

Over rooftops, across roads, around corners he ran. His legs cycled and blood carried adrenaline though his veins. Left, right, left, right, left. Right. Over and over. One then the other, left then right. His arms pumped at his sides as he jumps over a half wall or slides under a low bar. With seemingly inhuman speed he ran.

He ran and they followed.

Finding his way to a more quiet part of town was easy. With the way his senses heightened he could tell who was where seemingly a mile away. Skidding on the slick stone roads, he makes a sharp left into an abandoned alley. He makes it to the end and into a little boxed off side area when he finally looses it.

Falling to his knees with a cry, he tangles his fingers in his hair. Why did this one hurt? Is it cause he suppressed it? Is it because of the boiling, white hot rage behind it? He didn’t know. He could feel his joints and bones shift as the world around him became smaller. People only seemed to be five inches tall and buildings seemed his height when he kneeled. Desperately intaking giant breaths of air through his now massive lungs, he struggled to catch his breath.

Footsteps began to echo in the alley. Itty bitty footsteps neared as his attention snapped to the exit of the boxed off little area. Animalistic eyes snapped onto the opening, his breathing becoming quieter in an instant as he crawled closer. He could grab them. He could just grab them and squeeze them until they pop or-

NO! Dear goodness no! What was he thinking? Had he lost it? He swore he wasn’t ever going to be a headline for a shifter attack! He made that promise to himself and to the others. To Crutchie....To Kath....To Race, Albert, Elmer, Specs, Les- To Jack.

He would just scare the shit out of them. Yeah. Just scare the shit out of them.

“Where th’ hell’d ya go ya freak?!” A voice rings out from one of the two as they stalk down the alley, kicking crates as if he was going to dart out from behind own. “We know You’s is here and we ain’t leavin’! Come out and face us if ya really wanna act all mighty, freakshow.”

He watches through red-blinded, slit-pupil eyes as the two pass the corner into the open. They don’t notice. They don’t notice him. Ha! Were they looking to die? A low growl surfaces in his throat before he can stop it. They turn, their expressions drop, and all color drains from their face. It’s their turn to turn tail.

Too bad his hands are faster.

That look.....they’ve seen it before. They saw it in the papers. They saw it on faces of others. Yet they’ve never seen it on the face of a pissed shifter. A pissed shifter the size of a building. It was something they’ve never wanted to see. Something they wanted to run from and forget. Something they’d never see again. Yet here they were. Try as they might to turn tail, it’s too late. Warm, lanky finger wrap around them and hoist them into the air. Air intake is restricted as they struggle the best they can against the grip. No. Nonono. Not this!

“You.” Davey growls, squeezing the two in his fists. It was about time they got this. Karma was coming to them sooner or later. That time was now and he was the lucky one to get to deliver it on a silver platter. “Give me one reason I should spare any, or better yet all, of your limbs.”

The two yelp, sputtering choking sounds drawn from their throats as they struggle to take in air. Their arms burn as they try and push out the fingers to allow just the tiniest bit of room to breath. Try as they might, nothing. Nothing as a minuet passes.

“Nothing?” Davey asks with a raised eyebrow. He breaths out a laugh. “Pathetic.” Reluctantly, he forces himself to loosten the grip so they can breath. “Funny, isn’t it? How some ‘freakshow shifter’ like myself can be more merciful then two normal boys. How does that work?”

Neither opened their mouth to respond. Neither moved. They just stared. Stared up at the boy who would plague their nightmares for months at this rate. Stared while they shook like someone trying to shake sense into them.

“No answer again? Interesting.” Davey lookes the two of them over. “See, I don’t recall you having mercy when you pinned Romeo to the street at the neck with a crutch until he passed out. I don’t recall you having mercy when you knocked poor Crutchie unconscious with his own crutch. I don’t recall you having mercy when you pinned Les’s arm to the gate and tried to snap it through the bars. So tell me....”

He took a moment to take a deep breath, eyes closing only to open to be filled with pure rage. “Why. Should. I?”

The two stop, the shaking going still, the breathing coming to a halt on its own. No. Nonono. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. No. No. NO!

“B-Because.....” one started before their mumbling became unintelligible. This only seemed to fuel the fire of Davey’s rage.

“What was that? Speak up unless you want a first hand demonstration as to why shifters are feared,” he growls, grip momentarily tightening just enough to squeeze an answer out of the boy.

“B-BECAUSE THEN YOU’D BE JUST LIKE TH’ SHIFTERS IN TH’ PAPES!!” They yelp, squirming hard in the grip.

Davey backs off, loosening his grip again. Huffing a sigh, he growls. “Your point is made. I would. I would be and I hate that. So I won’t kill you.”

The two in his grip relax. Thank god! It seemed like he was going to go full out and destroy them right here right now and-

“That means nothing about teaching you a lesson.”

-Fuck. That.....no. Nonono. That wasn’t good. That wasn’t good at all. No. No way. Again, they began to squirm. They began to fight. They needed to be free and get help. But how? How could they escape the hands of a furious shifter?

Davey looked the two over. Hmm....what could he do that wouldn’t leave them with anything too permanent on them? What could he do that would have no physical evidence against him? What could he do? “Now....what do you believe is a suitable punishment? Maybe knocking you out like Romeo or Cruthcie? Pressure like with Les? I’m not-“

A hollow growl rings through the air, cutting him off. A growl that makes his lips twitch into a near psychotic smile.

“Or....” Davey starts, licking over his lips as his gaze shifts over the two of them. “We could go the route you made poor Jack take~”

The two feel their hearts drop to their shoes. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. That’s not a good sign. No sir! Not with where Jack ended up and how they had a good chance of not making it out of there ever. “N-No.....nonono....”

Davey chuckled, switching his grip to dangle them by their clothing. One by their suspenders, the other by their shirt. This would be so so much fun. Fun and entertaining.

“Oh hush. Jack didn’t get a choice. This or certain death, had you said? Well, let’s give you the same deal~” Davey brought one forward, dragging his tongue up over him. He could feel and taste the fabric along with something salty. Sweat was his guess. “Mm....not bad.”

A low, empty growl rings in the smal side alley again. A growl that serves to make Davey’s smirk turn more sinister. “Look at that, my stomach agrees. Now...hmm....who should go first?” He shifts his position, getting more comfortable on his knees and sitting on his feet.

“N-NO ONE!!” The other, in suspenders, yelps. No. Nonono. This was horrible. Downright  horrendous! They squirmed the best the could. Fighting the terrifying future they were about to face. This couldn’t be real, right?”

“Aw~ how funny. You didn’t give Jack that choice.” Davey breaths with a soft chuckle. Boy this was entertaining. “One of you is going down. I think......Hmm.....Oscar.” With a simple flick of his wrist, he tossed the small, squirming body into his maw and snapped his jaws shut around him.

A scream tore from the teen’s throat as he was tossed without a second thought. Crap, no! It only gets worse as he lands against a wet, hot, twitching muscle, pearly white and razor sharp teeth snapping shut around him. Fuck! He tries desperately to coax his limbs into motion. To do anything to keep him away from the dark tunnel in front of him that was Davey’s throat. When the slimy muscle underneath him begins to move him around, he finally does. He kicks and pushes and squirms the best he can while Davey shoves him around. Left to right, up and down, knocking the wind out of him by squishing him against his palette, you name it.

Suddenly, there’s a gush of light and cool breeze that rushes over him.

Morris stared at his brother with a face pale as a ghost and eyes as wide as dinner plates as Davey parts his jaws to let them see each other. It only gets worse when the tongue seems to tip his brother back further and further and further until-

Gulp.

With a guttural cry of pure fear, Oscar disappears down Davey’s throat. Oh god....

He’s engulfed in the hot, tight, strong muscles of the shifter’s esophagus, feeling himself tugged down with each deafening swallow. Try as he might, he can’t squirm. He can’t fight. He can’t move. He can only sit there and scream until he drops into the teen’s empty stomach to be met with a pleased gurgle. This....this was sick. This was insane.

The shifter in question gives a second, softer gulp to send Oscar all the way down. He gave a satisfied sigh, tracing the lump down to his stomach. “Mm....a little salty for my tastes. Stale fabric too....mm.....but still not bad,” he mumbles to himself, clicking his tongue.

His eyes turn to Morris. The grin on his face becomes predatory again as he brings the quivering tiny closer. “Now....I wonder how his brother would taste? How would your flavor sit on my tongue before I send your small body down like the morsels like you are?”

“N-No. No. God, no. Y-You’s....you’s insane!” Morris yelps, fighting the best he can in the boy’s dangling hold. He’s.....he’s going down, isn’t he? It’s only a matter of time until-

A simple effortless flick sends Morris flying into the open maw of the hungry shifter. The shifter named David Jacobs. The giant teen relaxes back, hands folding over his stomach as he toys with the second of the brothers in his mouth. Just as salty, though the clothing is less stale. Hmm. Odd. Not to mention he seemed to be squiring a good bit more. Feisty. How fun~

Two practiced gulps send the boy down to his stomach to join his brother. With another pleased sigh, he traces the lump from his throat all the way to his belly. Once the feels him drop in, he pokes at his middle. “Ah~ I don’t know about you two but....heh....you really hit the spot. Salty, but good. Filling too.”

“WE DONT CARE ‘BOUT OUR FUCKIN’ TASTE OR HOW YA FEEL!!!” Oscar shouts, shoving at one of the walls. It’s hot. It’s wet. It’s cramped. Then the worst, it’s loud. Every growl, gurgle, or rumble echoes around them as the chamber they’re trapped in churns. They won’t go out like this....right? “LET US TH’ FUCK OUT, FREAK!!!”

Davey humms, relaxing as the squirming picked up. He’d forgotten how good genuine squirming felt. Was that bad? That was probably bad but- he couldn’t worry about that now. He wouldn’t worry about that now. No. There were more important things on his mind. Like the most comfortable position he could be in right here in the alley. “Mmm....I’d watch what you say. One wrong slip and...mm....no one could hear from you again, yeah?”

He knew that wasn’t the truth. He didn’t have it in himself to do that. He hated the idea of being one of the headlines his friends would have to hawk. He was just teasing but boy did it feel real. It especially had to feel real to the two in his gut. Heh.

Good.

He expected the squirming to stop, but to his pleasant surprise, it didn’t. It was like the brothers had ignored anything he said. As the squirming got stronger Davey relaxed more. His hand came up to knead small circles into his gut as he got comfortable.

“Mmmm....my word....you’re- ah- fighting more then Crutchie...!” He mumbles though a pleased sigh. He certainly didn’t mind. “And believe me, can he fight! Ohh.....mm.....oh boy...”

Small phrases escape him between heavy breathing. Ok, maybe he was enjoying this a bit too much...

....

Nah.

He deserved it. If the brothers wanted to fight thought their punishment for hurting his friends then he was allowed to enjoy himself. He was allowed to embrace the internal massage. He was allowed to let his eyes droop closed slowly. He was allowed to let himself drift off to sleep with them fighting away in the fleshy prision of his gut. It wasn’t like Jack would see him like this. He was busy caring for Crutchie, Romeo, Les and the others.

.....right?

[dvp95]

quiet on widow’s peak (4)

pairing: dan howell/phil lester, pj liguori/sophie newton/chris kendall rating: teen & up tags: paranormal investigator, mystery, online friendship, slow burn, strangers to lovers, nonbinary character, trans character, background poly, phil does some buzzfeed unsolved shit and dan is a fan word count: 3.9k (this chapter), 13.5k (total) summary: Phil’s got a list of paranormal experiences a mile long that he likes to share with the world. Abandoned buildings, cemeteries, and ghost stories have always called his name, and a particular fan of his has a really, really good ghost story.

read this chapter on ao3 or here!

Phil did not invite Chris and Sophie to come to Rossendale with him. Not because he doesn't like spending time with them, but because he wouldn't know how to explain a situation to his parents that he doesn't even understand himself. To his knowledge, PJ also did not invite them.

"Change it," Chris whines from the backseat. He'd lost the scuffle against Phil to claim the front, and he's been complaining about Phil's music choices for half the trip so far in retaliation.

"You like McFly," Phil huffs, continuing his search for an album that won't elicit a loud sigh from behind him.

"That's fucking slander, is what that is. You hear that, PJ?"

"Oh, I hear you both," PJ says, flat. "Loud and clear."

They've only been driving for probably forty minutes and PJ already looks like he wants to kick them all out of his car. Phil doesn't exactly blame him, although he resents being lumped in with Chris in the 'annoying background noise' category.

He has no idea how they've managed to invite themselves along, but Phil was too polite and PJ was too smitten to tell them off when they came out to the car with their bags.

So, this is a group activity now. Phil's parents had been thrilled to hear it when he texted them the updated situation - they're taking it as a sign that Phil has a motley crew of good friends again, like he'd had as a kid and again in uni. He supposes that they're not wrong, exactly, but he's definitely anxious about introducing them to Chris.

"I like this song," Sophie says, mild, and Chris closes his mouth.

"Fine, this one is alright," he says begrudgingly. Phil glances at them in the rearview - Sophie is patting Chris' knee and giving him the sort of smile that always makes Phil feel like he shouldn't be present. He looks back down at his phone so he doesn't have to sit with that feeling too long.

PJ turns up the volume, probably to curb any more bickering before he has to toss them all out of his car, and Phil tries to just lose himself in the music for a little bit.

His friends sing along at varying levels of obnoxiousness and Phil tries not to keep opening the Tumblr app to see if someone has messaged him. Well, someone specific. I'm going north today!, is the last message sent between them, and Phil is still waiting for Winnie to offer to meet up or something.

After their non-starter interview, Phil and Winnie kept missing each other's free time to finish it over Skype. Phil kind of wants to hear more from them before he checks it out himself, but that's not looking likely at this point, especially if he's lugging his housemates along with him all weekend.

Phil opens a puzzle game on his phone and lets the mostly-mindless swiping distract him. It's a long drive up to Rossendale, and the last thing Phil wants is to be left alone with his thoughts.

--

Phil's parents love having guests round almost as much as they love to have him home, so Phil isn't at all surprised to walk in and smell a roast cooking. He expects that treats will be made as soon as the oven is free, because that's what his mum is like.

"Hello," Phil calls into the house, kicking off his shoes. His friends follow his lead - PJ puts his boots carefully on the mat that Phil didn't bother aiming for, and Sophie struggles with a particularly stubborn knot in her laces - as he hangs up his jacket. "Mum? Dad?"

"Child," his mum greets him happily, appearing in the entry to the kitchen and making grabby hands at him until he envelops her in a hug.

"Missed you," Phil tells her, quiet enough that his friends won't hear to make fun of him.

"Oh, I missed you," she says, giving him a kiss on the side of his face. She turns her beaming smile onto his housemates, who all pause in what they're doing like a frozen tableau. It's a little funny. "More children! Hello! I'm Kathryn, it's so nice to meet you. And so nice to see you again, PJ," she adds in that somewhat pointed voice that Phil hates so very much.

"Hello, Kath," PJ says, grinning wide. He gives her a hug, too. Chris holds out his hand for her to shake when she's done squeezing the life out of PJ, but Kath will have none of it.

"Don't be silly," she says, wrapping her arms tight around Chris' waist with a laugh. "We hug in this family."

"Really?" Chris asks, and the look he gives Phil is almost more embarrassing than if he'd asked 'so why isn't your son a hugger?' out loud. "Something smells absolutely delicious, Kathryn. Is that you, or is supper cooking?"

Phil stops himself from groaning out loud, but barely. He probably shouldn't be surprised at all that Chris' cheeky, flirtatious charm extends to mothers as well. Kath laughs and smacks lightly at Chris' chest before she turns to Sophie.

Skilled at making people feel comfortable in four seconds flat, Kath chatters away about supper and how lovely Sophie's curls are and how long it's been since she's seen Phil, did they know how long it's been? She herds them all into the kitchen like they're cattle and insists that Phil take their things upstairs while she puts the kettle on.

"Er, alright," Phil says, looking at the small collection of bags that they'd brought with them. Their clothes and toiletries are all there, of course, but so is all the filming and hunting equipment. He'll have to make at least two trips.

"Your father got the guest room and Martyn's room all set up before he went out," she tells him, either not noticing or ignoring his internal struggle.

Oh, wonderful. Phil had somehow forgotten about the part where they had three beds for four of them. He's positive that his housemates won't mind sharing with each other, but now he's been tasked with the anxiety-inducing puzzle of whose bags to put where.

"Okay," Phil says again, even though they've moved on to talking about their favourite kinds of cakes so that Kath can wow them all with her skills. He tries to catch PJ's eye, but PJ is too wrapped up in a conversation about strawberries to notice.

Alright, well. Phil grabs as many bags as he can carry and brings them upstairs, feeling some tension deep inside him get a little tighter as he notices that most of their personal effects are packed away, either in storage or already on the island, and his childhood home looks more like a show home than he's comfortable with. The stairs only creak a little under his weight, nothing like the old house in Brighton, but Phil still feels unsettled.

In the end, he throws PJ and Sophie in the guest room. It's a selfish move more than anything, because he's brought PJ for enough visits to be familiar with the way his parents look at each other every time PJ teases him.

They don't ask. They're not the type of people to pry, and Phil isn't the type of people to offer information unprompted. They've all been in this limbo for years where Phil doesn't tell them that he likes boys and they don't outright question if PJ is just a friend and, frankly, Phil is tired of it. So, Chris can sleep alone.

He takes his own bags up last, because he knows that stepping into his bedroom and seeing all the personality stripped from it is going to make him feel things he isn’t prepared to feel. Phil takes a deep breath before he goes inside, and releases it shakily as he drops his things on the floor.

The beige carpet is almost mocking him, telling him that it's time to grow up, and Phil leaves the room as fast as he can.

--

God it is so hard to get anything done here. Sorry to complain at you randomly but like... I forgot how hard it is to work when my parents are hovering and asking a million questions lmao

Winnie still hasn't responded to Phil's early morning message, but the frustration of his parents distracting him and his friends from their work is starting to get to him. Chris has completely charmed them, somehow, and both Sophie and PJ are too polite to put headphones on and ignore them the way Phil has decided to.

Surprisingly, he gets a reply right away: omg how have i never considered the fact that you had to tell your parents you wanted to hunt ghosts for a living thats so fucking funny also that sucks i live in a house full of students and i always have to go to the coffee shop to work on essays and shit

There's nothing good like that where my parents live. Your coffee place is in the city, right?

“No! He didn’t!” Chris is laughing, somewhere in the living room, and Phil has to turn up the white noise on his headphones. The idea of his parents and housemates trading embarrassing stories about him while he's holed up at the table with audio files he hates makes him itch.

yeah, Winnie says. Phil is so thrown off by the short message that his fingers pause on the keyboard.

Is he annoying them? He doesn't mean to. Phil thinks over the messages they've exchanged since talking on Skype, the wheel of worst case scenarios spinning quickly.

Before Phil can apologise or even really get his anxious mind to settle down, his laptop bloops again, once, twice, three times. Relief from the worry that Winnie doesn't like talking to him curls around Phil's shoulders, relaxing them.

It's a screenshot of Google Maps with an address pulled up, a different building circled in a bright blue. yeah i hella recommend and it's really close to wilkins as well, is the message accompanying the screenshot. Then, right afterwards, 10/10 hot chocolate if i do say so myself.

Phil isn't very big on hot chocolate on its own, but he is very big on quiet coffee shops.

It takes a lot of cajoling and promises that he won't be out too late for Phil to convince his parents that they'll be fine to drive to the city by themselves. His dad gets the same look on his face that he always does when Phil talks about work, but his mum merely pats his cheek and says, "Oh, love, be careful. I'll be cross if I have to get you from the police again."

"That was one time," Phil says, feeling his face flush as Chris looks at him with glee.

"One time too many," Nigel says, a bit too sternly to be a joke. Phil wonders if his friends pick up on it or if they just think he's banting like he's been all through supper, that same dry humour that Phil can see in Martyn making him funnier than his housemates had expected.

PJ and Sophie both laugh a bit, so... probably just Phil's knowledge of his dad making it more pointed than it really needs to be.

The coffee shop is open late, so Phil and his housemates decide to do some recon at the Wilkins place. The sun hasn't quite set yet, and the street isn't completely deserted or anything, so they have to wait for a good moment to leave the car.

They're careful. They've done this before.

The Wilkins place is an older townhouse in Rusholme with windows that have been boarded up since the early noughties because they kept getting broken. Technically, someone still owns the property, but the Wilkins family either didn't care about it or had forgotten it existed, because it's been abandoned as long as Phil can remember.

It also isn't very scary in his memory. It's draughty and has rats scurrying about, but the electricity and heating still worked, somehow, and the social situations he'd gotten thrown into at Martyn's shoulder were definitely more nerve-wracking than the house itself.

All of these things are still more or less true, according to everything Phil has been told, but when Phil climbs in through the loose boards of the kitchen window, the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up. He hesitates for so long on the sill that Chris pushes a bit at him, reminding him to move before some annoyed neighbour calls the police.

It's dim inside but not so dark that Phil's eyes strain; the streetlights and setting sun filter in through the boards and showcase the dust covering every surface.

Phil helps Sophie and then Chris through the window, PJ giving them boosts from the outside. They take the various bags from PJ and Sophie immediately pulls out the camera, ignoring the thuds that PJ's feet make as he launches himself up and clambers in like a monkey.

"Sexy," Chris drawls as PJ nearly tumbles onto his face. He's grabbing out equipment of his own, and so Phil is tasked with getting PJ through the window safely.

"At least I've got a modicum of upper body strength," PJ says. Neither of them are bothering to whisper, and that's making Phil anxious.

He can't put his finger on it, but... it doesn't feel like they're alone in here. There's probably someone hiding out from the chill of late October in one of the various empty rooms, and Phil's worst case scenario wheel is spinning so fast it's making him dizzy.

"Do you hear that?" Sophie asks, hushed. That stops PJ and Chris from continuing their bickering, and all three men freeze as they strain for whatever it is that Sophie's hearing. After a moment of complete silence, Sophie shakes her head. "It stopped. Hopefully the mic caught it over you lot."

PJ looks appropriately abashed, but Chris just shrugs. He's got a flashlight and an EMF meter, and he slings one of the bags over his shoulder before disappearing.

This is technically for Phil's channel - they're checking the place out, and Sophie is filming just in case something happens - but Phil still feels weird when PJ ducks off in another direction and Sophie stays at his side instead of following one of her boys, camera steady in her hands and the tip of her nose pink from the cool air.

"What did you hear?" Phil murmurs, beckoning her further into the house. The sound of creaking wood is so loud, like it's right above their heads, and Phil can only hope that it's one of his friends going upstairs.

"It could have been the wind," Sophie says mildly. "Or rats."

"Is that what it sounded like?"

Sophie blinks up at him and her mouth twists in an emotion that Phil can't place. "No. No, it sounded like a person talking."

Yeah, that's what Phil was afraid of. "Someone might be living here," he whispers, focusing on the dark hallway and trusting that Sophie is following.

The creaking again, this time from beside them, and Phil peeks his head around the corner to confirm that the staircase is what he's hearing. Chris is halfway up it, flashlight off between his teeth as he grips the railing like he's afraid the stairs are going to give out under him.

Phil hates this part. He'd rather do this completely alone than have to herd his friends like sheep. He leaves Chris to his own devices and moves into the lounge. This is where the majority of the litter is, empty bottles and cans and crisp bags everywhere. Phil takes a couple photos of it all and sends them to Martyn.

Remember your friend who used to bring a garbage bag to every party? Looks like he was the only one lol

He pauses. All too aware of Sophie's eyes and possibly the camera lens on him, Phil sends the photo to Winnie as well with a different caption: Does it always look like this?

Neither of them respond by the time Phil has picked his way through the first floor, which is at least good for his focus, but it doesn't explain why the house feels so much different than it had seven or eight years ago. Phil feels unsettled here in a way that he doesn't usually get anymore, goosebumps down his arms that aren't from the cold and the constant, unnerving feeling that someone is looking at him from the shadows.

Phil's phone buzzes as he and Sophie debate in whispers if they should go upstairs. Phil hates leaving anything to someone else, even if it's just a few rooms that surely PJ and Chris are capable of exploring on their own. He's in the middle of trying to explain that to Sophie when his voice catches in his throat.

"Peej says we should go," Phil says, interrupting himself. "He found something weird in the attic."

"What's he doing in the attic?" Sophie hisses.

"Dunno. I didn't even know there was an attic."

"We should go, then," says Sophie, like that decides it. Although it does rankle a bit to be lower on the totem pole of his own project, Phil has to admit that Sophie is right. If PJ is saying that it's time to go, then it's time to go.

Phil climbs out of the window first, taking the equipment with him, and then helps hoist Sophie safely down. She's so small that it's not even a strain, really, even with how little exercise Phil gets. They wait, huddled together, and Phil feels some of the knot in his chest start to loosen when he hears Chris and PJ arguing in whispers before the window boards get slid out of the way again.

"What did you find?" Phil asks immediately, and PJ hushes him on his way down.

"Let's go, I'll tell you at the café," he whispers, leading the way down the pavement with strides so purposeful that Phil wonders if he's been in this area before. It's all the rest of them can do to keep up with him, and Phil spares a moment to feel sorry for Sophie and her short legs.

He hangs back with her and lets Chris keep pace with PJ. Chris is still talking at a silent PJ in a hushed, passionate tone, like he's fighting with a brick wall, and Phil doesn't need to be involved in that.

The coffee shop is only a couple of streets away, but the tension that the Wilkins place and PJ's subsequent discovery has brought to the group makes it feel much further. PJ stops in front of a purple door, and Phil has a begrudging respect for his ability to remember where something is after simply being told the address. The shop is small and a little dingy, but the lighting inside is soft through the narrow windows and there's a fireplace that Phil longs to curl up in front of like a cat.

Chris scowls at PJ and holds the door open for him in the same breath. Phil doesn't understand their relationship and at this point he's too afraid to ask, but he ducks into the inviting warmth anyway to try to get the goosebumps off his skin.

The two employees behind the counter look at the door like they've been caught with their hands in a cookie jar. A girl with brightly-coloured hair is holding a bunch of marshmallows, a hand poised mid-throw, and an unreasonably tall guy with an unreasonably large mouth is gawping as one of the marshmallows hits him in the chin.

"You missed," Phil informs them, grinning a bit as he unwinds his scarf.

"Oops," the girl laughs, setting the marshmallows down and pulling up a customer service smile. "What can I get for you guys?"

While PJ and Sophie pore over the menu and Chris starts asking if she'll throw marshmallows into his mouth if he asks very nicely, Phil's eyes drift to the other worker.

His mouth is still open, a bit, and his face flushes when their eyes meet. "Er," he says, glancing behind him as if Phil is looking at someone else, and that's so endearing that Phil is sufficiently distracted from the mystery down the street.

Phil isn't extremely self-conscious or anything, but he also knows he's not going to be the hottest guy in a room, so he's a bit flattered and a lot confused about this guy's reaction to him.

The thing is, the guy is very attractive. A couple of perfect curls poke out from under his cap, and there's some type of shimmer on his face that Phil could not put a name to if you paid him. He knows literally nothing about makeup, but he knows that it makes this giant of a man look softer and his blush even more obvious when it deepens.

"Hi," Phil says, giving him a little wave. He can still hear Chris chattering on and Sophie debating the merits of a hot chocolate versus a cappuccino, so he's pretty sure nobody is paying them any attention. The guy twitches like he wants to look over his shoulder again, but he stops himself.

"Uh, hi? Sorry to be, like, weird, I just - I didn't expect -"

The voice is familiar, the rambling is familiar, and then it clicks. "Oh, hi," Phil says again, warmer this time. He steps closer to the counter and grins up at them - an unusual thing in itself, since Phil doesn't meet many people taller than him. "You didn't mention that you work here."

Winnie's shoulders slump forward in a kind of relief, and they scratch the back of their neck, looking awkward and out of place even in an outfit that coordinates with the colour scheme of the whole shop. Phil looks the uniform over and immediately regrets it, because he didn't mean to see Winnie's name tag and now he feels weird about knowing something he wasn't actually told. He doesn't feel too weird about being here, though, because - well. Winnie had technically invited him.

"Honestly, I didn't know you'd be 'investigating' so soon," says Winnie. They're still blushing and the finger quotes are somehow cute, even though they're being used to poke at Phil's career. Their nails are dark and sparkly, and Phil desperately needs to stop noticing things about their hands. "I would have told you, probably, or I'd just - I dunno, try to make a better first impression."

"You're making a fine first impression," Phil assures them.

Winnie snorts. "Oh, bullshit."

"Phil," PJ says, nudging him. Phil suddenly remembers that there are, in fact, other people around him, and he can't just keep looking at Winnie's long, dark eyelashes. "What are you having?"

Honestly, Phil hasn't even looked at the menu. He's so easily distracted by pretty boys with big hands and - oh, right, he's got to be careful about that, even in his own head. Especially in his own head. Winnie isn't a pretty boy, he really shouldn't be thinking about them like that at all.

"Uh," Phil says eloquently. He's very particular with his hot drinks, usually, but he's got a lot going on in his mind right now and it's easier just to shrug at Winnie than to look away and think. "Dunno, actually. Surprise me?"

Winnie smiles, and Phil's stomach twists. "I can do that."

[1899-newsboy-strike]

Savior - Modern Jack Kelly Imagine

Warnings: attempted kidnap, fight, mention of sexual assault, physical abuse

Requested: You are a brilliant writer! Could you write about a jack x reader where someone tries to kidnap the reader but jack sees and intervenes? Then cares for her because she’s all nervous and scared?

Summary: I’m making this modern since I haven’t done a modern imagine in a while, also the reader is mute. Also I’m not trying to be disrespectful or anything by the way I portray the reader, I’m also not saying everyone that’s mute is the way the reader is, and I’m sorry if this offends anyone or makes anyone upset, because that is not my intention.

————————————————–

You instantly regretted being out so late when you noticed that the man behind you was following you. “Hey pretty lady where you headed?” You heard him ask behind you making you walk faster. “Hey! It’s rude to ignore someone when they’re talking to you.” The guy called out and you felt a hand grab your upper arm. “Why don’t you come to my place?” He asked as you began to try and pull away from him. “Not going to say anything gorgeous?” The guy asked and you tried with all the force you had to push him away, and he only stumbled slightly, but recovered quickly.

The guy grabbed you by the waist and started to drag you in the opposite direction you were going causing you to struggle in his arms. “Is there a problem here?” You heard a voice ask behind the both of you and the guy turned the both of you around. “There’s no problem. Mind your own business.” The guy spat out at the guy in front of you. He looked over at you and as he took in your state he glanced back at the guy before looking at you. “Do you know who this guy is?” He asked you and you quickly shook your head before feeling the guys grip on you tighten making pain shoot through you making you squeeze your eyes shut.

“Let her go.” The guy in front of you said and the guy holding you scoffed. “I don’t think you’re in charge of her.” He responded making the guy in front of you step forward. “Neither are you.” The guy responded as he pulled you away from the man holding you. You stood there scared not being able to move as you just watched both of the men in front of you fighting with each other. The man who had grabbed you eventually lost and he stumbled away as you continued to just stand there. “Are you okay?” The guy asked as he walked over to you and you stared at him. “Um… My name is Jack.” He said holding out his hand for you to shake. You slowly grabbed his hand and shook it making him furrow his brows. “He scared you that much huh?” He asked but you shook your head quickly. 

“Would you like me to walk you home?” He asked making you smile slightly as you shyly nodded your head. “Lead the way.” He said and you started to walk in the opposite direction the guy was taking you before. “So what are you doing out so late?” Jack asked you and you shrugged. “I don’t mean to sound rude but… do you talk?” He asked making you bite your lip. You looked down slightly shaking your head and he nodded. “That’s okay, I can talk for the both of us.” He explained, and boy was he right. For the rest of the way he was talking up a storm telling you all about his friends. He even told you jokes to try and get you to laugh, but you had only given a big smile. He smiled sadly at you because he could tell you wanted to laugh.

Once you arrived to the door of your apartment Jack had turned to walk away but you tugged on his arm. “Come in.” You mouthed but he looked at you confused making you sigh. You motioned for him to come inside and his face light up before he came in. You had left Jack awkwardly standing at your front door as you raced around trying to find your notepad. You hadn’t used it since you left your parents house, but that was years ago. You lived alone and would usually only interact with people at the shops and restaurants you would go to, but you would your phone for that. You finally found it and almost jumped with joy before you made your way back to Jack. “Would you like some coffee or water?” You wrote and handed him the paper. “Water would great thank you.” He smiled at you and you let him to your kitchen/dining room. You grabbed a cup and poured some water handing it to Jack motioning for him to sit down.

“So what’s your name?” He asked as you had awkwardly been staring at him. “Y/N. Thank you for helping me earlier.” You wrote before sliding the notebook over to him and he waved you off. “No one should be doing that to anyone.” He explained making you just shrug. You wished you could respond instead of having to write things down, but you could never get words to come out since you were younger. “It’s getting late, my roommate is probably going to start worrying if I don’t get back soon.” He explained and you played with your thumbs expecting that to be the last time you would see him. “Can I maybe have your number?” He asked awkwardly making you bite your lip to keep yourself from laughing. You looked up at him and nodded before he pulled his phone. He handed his phone over and you quickly put your number into his phone before handing it back. “I’ll talk to you later Y/N.” Jack explained and pulled you in for a hug making you gasp before you waved bye as he left.

For the rest of the night you and Jack had messaged each other back and forth telling each other your interests and you both realized you liked the same movie. For a few weeks you and Jack had met up and hung out. It was hard at first with you not talking and you had to either remember to bring your notepad or be sure your phone was charged enough for you to type and show Jack. You had both quickly become very close and you had started to feel comfortable around Jack. You had caught yourself almost laughing but quickly realized and bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself. You couldn’t make a noise, not after what had happened. You were surprised when Jack had asked you to hang out with all of his friends, but you weren’t going to be rude and decline so you had accepted and now you just couldn’t wait for it to be over when it hadn’t even begun.

“Are you ready?” Jack asked you and you bit your lip nodding nervously as you had stood in the doorway of his apartment he shared with one of his friends. “Hey Crutchie!” Jack called out to a guy standing not too far away from both of you. “This is Y/N, the girl I’ve been telling you guys about.” Jack introduced you and you held out your hand which Crutchie gladly accepted and sook. “Jack’s told us a lot about you.” Crutchie explained and you looked up at Jack with a confused look. “Nothing bad I promise.” Jack held his hands up in defense. You reached in your back pocket getting your notepad and pen chewing on your lip nervously as you could already hear the rest of Jack’s friends in the other room being rowdy. You began to become more nervous because you knew the more people you’d be around the harder it’d be to communicate.

You took a shaky breath as Jack pulled you into the room. Before you could blink you had about a dozen boys and one girl surrounding you and introducing themselves making you feel like a child when Jack had to speak for you. Every minute that passed you had become more and more uncomfortable, not even being able to get a word in with how fast everyone was talking. That was until all the attention was on you, which made it worse. “Why don’t you talk?” Race asked you and you felt almost everyone’s eyes on you making you shift and look around uncomfortable. “Race, that’s rude.” Katherine scolded him and you just looked over at Jack not knowing what to do. “I was just wondering.” Race shrugged and you wanted to leave when you hadn’t even been there for that long.

“How old were you when you stopped talking? Or were you born not being able to talk?” Katherine asked sounding kind and you held out both of your hands showing the number ten. “Really? My mom’s friend has a daughter who stopped talking at that age too.” Katherine explained and you nodded your head to show you were listening. “Yeah, it’s sad, so I guess when she was younger her uncle molested her and when she tried to tell her mom he did something I can’t remember what.” Katherine explained making your whole body stiffen as you recognized the story to be your own. “Yeah her name was…” Katherine trailed off before looking at you with realization on her face. “Oh my god it was you wasn’t it?” She asked and your eyes darted around the room at everyone staring at you. Before you could think you got up and made your way toward the front door as images started going through your head. “Nice going Kath.” You heard someone say before you made your way out the door.

“Y/N!” You heard someone calling after you, and you didn’t even know where you were headed. “Y/N Stop! Please!” You heard and realized it was Jack who had been calling after you. You felt a hand on your arm making you jerk away before turning around and pushing him away from you. “I’m sorry that Katherine told everyone what happened, but it was an accident, she didn’t know it was you.” Jack explained and you could feel the tears threatening to fall. Jack lifted his hand making you flinch away from him. “Hey, don’t worry I’m not gonna hurt you. You can just come up to my room and just stay till you calm down alright? I don’t want you to walk home when you’re like this.” Jack said and you nodded as you wiped your eyes trying to calm down. “Don’t worry, my room is the opposite direction of where everyone is at.” Jack explained before you both made your way back to his apartment.

You were on Jack’s bed as you sat uncomfortably with Jack sitting not that far from you. “Do you want me to leave you alone?” He asked you but you quickly shook your head. “I’m really sorry.” Jack explained before pulling you into a hug. At first you were stiff but hugged back awkwardly not knowing what to do. “What did he do? That made you not talk?” Jack asked as you pulled away and you looked away from him reaching for your notepad but realized you didn’t have it. “You left it on the table.” Jack explained before handing it to you. You started to explain how your uncle had gotten mad when you were going to tell your mother and how he had hit you and warned you if you had said anything he would hurt you. You took a shaky breath as you handed it to Jack and felt uneasy as he read it. “Hey it’s okay, he’s not going to hurt you anymore, and I’m here to be with you, and I promise I won’t let anyone hurt you.” Jack explained and you smiled slightly at him nodding your head slightly as you gave him a hug.

You woke up confused looking around realizing you weren’t in your room and started to panic until you saw Jack laying next to you. “Morning.” Jack greeted and you nodded as you stood up. “You know, I’m going to make you laugh one day you know.” He explained and you shook your head. You were so used to making sure you didn’t make any noise you were sure he wouldn’t be able to but that didn’t stop Jack. Anytime he saw you after that he would always tell jokes or try and tickle you until you laughed. He had eventually asked you in the most childish way. You were both sitting across from each other and you weren’t paying attention until he grabbed your notepad and slid it toward you with a sappy little paragraph asking you to be his girlfriend with two boxes for you to check off yes or no. You had almost laughed as you created a third box calling him a loser but yes as you slid the piece of paper back to him with a smirk on your face.

The first time you had ever said something to Jack was an accident. You had been together for a while and Jack had asked you a yes or no question out of nowhere, and without realizing it you had made a noise in response. You had freaked out and so did Jack, but both for different reasons. Jack had started to help slowly but surely as you started to feel more comfortable and you felt safe with him, and he had been the only person you would talk to. At first it was little things, but eventually you were rambling to Jack about your day, until you would have fights, even small ones that would make you go back to not speaking or only speaking slightly. You weren’t ever fully better, but with Jack you felt like he was the best thing that had ever happened to you.

[thelittleredheadedmusician]

pirate au? Like, Barbary coast pirate, not basement troll pirate?

I’m still laughing that you felt the need to specify the difference in pirates. You didn’t specify what fandom though so you get newsies. If it was the other pirate maybe you’d get batfam :p

Jack doesn’t remember deciding to be a pirate. He just… was? When he was a kid he lived in a port city and his dad was a sailor and his mom got sick and he thought he knew what ship was his father’s except apparently that was wrong and he was little and hurting and by the time the crew found him they were already out at sea. It’s not like pirates really are bloodthirsty, they have their own rules they’re just different from everyone else’s. Even they see an upset, cold, hungry, and very lost little kid stowing away behind a potato sack and they want to help the kid. They didn’t want anyone to think they’d kidnapped Jack and well working on the ship was hard but it was better than being stuck on his own. Here he got fed. Here he had people watching out for him.

No one wanted to take care of a kid who didn’t walk right so Crutchie ran away. He made a pretty good kitchen boy though and managed to trade work for a room, even if it took him a while to get to the next town. He’d heard stories of a pirate ship called the Santa Fe run by a captain who was supposedly a child. He knew that the rumors were definitely exaggerated but he was still surprised to see the captain, who insisted on being just called Jack, wasn’t much older than he was. Now Crutchie wasn’t a kid anymore and he certainly wouldn’t have said that he was an adult either but Jack was still someone who, initially, Crutchie assumed was just another member of the crew though he was young by all standards. Crutchie hadn’t even had to ask if he could join Jack, the other man had walked up to him while Crutchie was working behind the bar - he’d been in the port city for a while and had managed to prove he could do more than scrub pots - and Jack had asked him if he’d wanted to go on an adventure. Next thing he knew he was on the ship and someone was handing him a hat “Cause you ain’t a proper pirate without a hat.” 

The Jacobs family had lived a fairly average life, until the British Royal Navy decided to occupy the small coastal town they called home. Davey hated them, they did and took whatever they wanted when his father worked so hard just to feed his family. They were supposed to be the good guys, pirates were the thieves, yet they were the ones who stole. The final straw came when Davey and Sarah were walking home from market when one of the soldiers grabbed Sarah by the elbow as they passed. He made he drop their food as she wrenched her arm away and well the two siblings fought back when he went to hit her. Davey and Sarah won. Which was almost worst. Thankfully a group of pirates had docked in the bay and were slowly making their way through the town, disposing of the British Navy as they went. Two of them noticed the fight and managed to stop the siblings as they ran, relaying the news of the town’s takeover. Or maybe rescue. He offered them a place on the ship should they want it, telling Sarah they could use someone with her right hook. Davey scoffed, “Shouldn’t you ask the captain?” The pirate smiled, “I am the captain.” Davey’s mouth fell open, he had to have been the same age as them. Sarah glanced at Davey before turning back to him, “Let me go pack a bag.” Davey turned his shock on his sister. “Things will be better now and we can send money home and don’t you want to help people, David?” A few hours later they were setting sail for Port Royal. 

Katherine’s father owned the newspaper, the only one in the whole capitol city, which meant that he also held a lot of power. Katherine wasn’t the eldest, so she was expected to marry well but it wasn’t her only expectation in life. She wasn’t the youngest, so she didn’t get dotted on. Mainly, she was left to her own devices which was just fine with her. She was well educated and even better read. She wrote often, sending anonymous essays to her father’s paper. Her father was a proud and loyal citizen to the crown. Katherine had never even set foot on British soil. Not properly British at least. She was born and raised in the colony, and the meaner society women said that it showed. She didn’t necessarily want to go to London, she just wanted to go. When a group of pirates were caught not far off the coast and brought in to be hanged Katherine saw her chance. She stole her brothers’ clothes and sword and pistols and hid it all under her most pretentious cloak. If she was going out it was in a blaze of glory. From her spot in the crowd Katherine frowned, there were more than she had expected lined up on the platform with hoods over their heads. Six. Katherine knew she’d be able to free two, maybe three but six? Well, she had enough weaponry for a small army so she could share and enlist the rescuees in the rescuing. And hope the rest of the crew was lurking around somewhere as backup. It was now or never and Katherine was getting off this damned island if it killed her, or die trying. She pushed her way to the front, managed to leap onto the platform and slash three of the ropes before one of the guards grabbed her hood, exposing her face to a gasp from the crowd. She shirked her cloak and put her sword to use against the guard, just managing to press a knife into the nearest pirate’s hands. She could only hope he managed to free his wrists as more guards descended on them. She didn’t have to worry long though because the skirmish turned into a proper fight and someone was yelling “to the harbor!” and Katherine was running, cloak long since lost, reveling in the freedom of not having layers of petticoats. She was panting as the pirates dove off a cliff at the edge of the harbor and unthinkingly she followed. Time slowed down in the free fall. Katherine thought about how silly it was of her not to think to tie her hair back, originally wanting her telltale red curls to act as a warning flag and a taunt. About how if this was one of her novels she would start regretting her decision. About how the water wasn’t quite so far away now and time was moving much too fast all of a sudden. And then she was diving and swimming after the others. It wasn’t until Katherine had been pulled onto the deck of the ship that had anchored in a small, hidden cove not far from the harbor that Katherine got the chance to properly look at the pirates. There were six yes but one was a woman dressed in trousers and a vest much like Katherine herself currently was. And well… “You’re so young!” She was barely twenty and there was no way that any of them could be much older than that. Even the other members of the crew who were celebrating the return of their captain, first mate, quartermaster, sailing master, and two best gunners. “And you’re Katherine Pulitzer!” The boy who had just been handed what even she could tell was the captain’s hat. She sniffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “And I just saved you all from being hanged.” He raised an eyebrow at her, “Because you want to run the risk of being hanged yourself?” Katherine shrugged, “Because I know first hand the exploits of the British Royal Navy are all propaganda and I think it’s time the real heroes have someone churning out some muck of their own.” 

Way too much of my knowledge of pirates comes from Pirates of the Caribbean and you can def tell in the Kath bit...

[deafwestnewsies]

She’s A Lesbian!

Sarah's wishful, Katherine's irritated, and Jack can feel a scheme coming on. (And Davey can't find Sarah.)

crossposted to my ao3 and ff.net!

newsbians, javid

It’s not that Sarah didn’t want to end up in a gay bar called Packagé, but she definitely wasn’t expecting it. Her brother had promised a quiet night with their normal group of ragtag friends that started well-intentioned but quickly made a left turn. It was her fault, really. When had there ever been a time when something didn’t go terribly wrong? Like the Christmas they had all decided to spend together when money was too tight to go home and ended in a screaming match between Spot and Davey about different theologies, Crutchie almost giving himself alcohol poisoning, and Specs losing a shoe. Or when Les came out to visit and Boots nearly got him arrested for stealing ice cream? And that time in the park, with those crazy pigeons… So all in all, Sarah should’ve seen this coming. This plan, of the ones they had had in the past, was not the most illegal (but still partially, sneaking Romeo into bars was a favorite pastime), so she really didn’t mind. 

The smell was a different story. Unsurprisingly, Packagé was mostly occupied by men, shoved into a crowded room full of people dancing and sweating. It didn’t help that it was New Year's Eve, so there was that lingering scent of “I just barfed up my long island iced tea and we’re all dancing in it!” Sarah was trying to keep her calm demeanor, but she just wasn’t drunk enough to be having a good time. There was a glass of Riesling sitting idly by as she watched the rest of the crowd lose their mind in that special holiday madness. The wine was fine, but she wished she wasn’t such a lightweight so she could drink something fun- like the girl sitting four seats down, twirling a hot pink straw in a slush that practically glowed green. Sarah didn’t recognize the drink but she could smell the artificial apple from here, and that told her everything she needed to know. It was probably better than the wine they swore wasn’t boxed but had to pour from a spout, under the counter. She was a lot of things, and a smart connoisseur of cheap wines was one of them. Glaring at the fun swirly straw and cursing her genetics for giving her such terrible Asian flush, Sarah felt someone slap her back. Hard. “JACOBS!” The voice yelled, and she turned to look a very drunk and very excited Romeo in the eyes. The poor baby had only started drinking his sophomore year, so he still got wasted pretty fast. However, he was a fun drinker and usually was the one Sarah trusted the most to dance with her and just have a good time. “Sarah! Sarah, Sarah. They’s is playin’ my song! Doya hear?” Smiling, she listened intently for his sake to everyone sing along to Mo Bamba for about a minute. Romeo cackled. “I love this song! So good. I got HOEE-” Sarah clapped a hand around his mouth to save him from disastrous embarrassment and got him to sit on a stool and listen to the rest of the song. He hummed happily as she covered up her laughter with a drink. The girl with the fun drink laughed openly, but not in a mean way. The laughter sounded like bells, chiming and grabbing everyone’s attention. Well, everyone who could hear her. Which meant Sarah and Romeo. A very confused and now a little bit angry, drunk Romeo. “Isshe laughin’ at me? That goil,” He pointed directly at her, “laughin’ at me? Why I outta…”   Jumping on him at the last second, Sarah saved the girl from Romeo’s tiny wrath. She pulled him into the crowd (the things she’d do to save these boys from public assault records) and yelled, “Can’t do that! Let’s dance, Romy!” His mood immediately switched back, and Sarah found herself lost in a sea of sweaty bodies and the pulsing beat of Barbie Girl. &&& Katherine hadn’t meant to laugh at the boy, but the situation was just entirely too ridiculous. She was dragged to a club with a name that would make any respectable human blush by Racetrack Higgins (of all people!) who was meeting his friend that provided certain... resources that they both were taking full advantage of, considering they were both taking bumps off the side of a table. The realization that this wasn’t just a normal bar, but a gay one, made Katherine stomp to the bartop and order something called a Sour Apple Smash. When the bartender handed her a glass with a swirly straw, she had to physically hold herself back from groaning aloud. This New Years Eve was shaping up to be a disaster. A disaster until she noticed the quiet girl sitting a couple seats down staring very obviously at her. She had a glass of wine next to her (They had wine? And Katherine was stuck with a blended glass of sugar?) and was doodling on a napkin in between bouts of ogling Katherine. First, it was a little strange, but then Katherine realized that she wasn’t all that bad looking. In fact, her sharp features, angular eyes that caught the glint of the light, lips with a perfect cupid’s bow, straight brown hair falling perfectly to one side, made her one of the prettiest girls she had ever seen. Now Katherine was staring, trying desperately to catch her eye. Begrudgingly, she thanked Race in her head that they were at a gay bar because that gave the assumption that she had even a glimmer of a chance. If anything, she wouldn’t get punched for flirting. Thinking of conversation starters, (“Come here often?” “Why do they play this song? No one likes Sheck Wes anyways.” “What do I have to do to buy the prettiest girl in the bar a drink?” “So you like red wine, huh?”) Katherine lazily twirled her straw and ignored the burning stare she was receiving. After finally deciding, (“I’ll bet you ten bucks that wine is boxed and they just won’t admit it.”) she took a deep breath and faced the girl, just to get completely cut off. “JACOBS!” A small boy yelled, slapping her on her back. Katherine winced and turned quickly back to her drink, acting as if nothing had happened. Their conversation went on for a bit and the girl got the boy to sit down. As he hummed, Katherine laughed, once, to herself. First, her friend takes her to a bar in the middle of wherever, then she gets a drink that she does not want to finish, and lastly she can’t even flirt with the most beautiful woman she’s ever seen. Wonderful. The boy takes this the wrong way, however. She watches, almost in slow motion, as he lunges for her and the girl leaps on top of him. My hero, Katherine thought dreamily, not even hearing the girl scold him while pulling him onto the dance floor. For a second, she’s disappointed again that she’s been left alone, but then her gaze locked on a phone. Specifically, the girl’s phone and Katherine almost laughs in glee. She wanted Katherine to follow her! She wanted to be found later! As she reaches out to grab the phone, another boy blocks her entirely. This time, she does groan, head in hands, the whole shebang. It’s a pair of boys this time, one sitting directly where she sat and the other beside him. Boy number one picks up her glass, wrinkling his nose in distaste. “Wine? Sarah? Are we sure?” Sarah. What a pretty name. “This is totally her phone though, so…” He looked around and Katherine got a better look at his face. His face was similar to hers, sharing the same cheekbones and nose shape. The hair was almost a dead giveaway that they were siblings, however. She almost didn’t hear him ask, “Have you seen my sister?” Blinking in surprise, she just pointed in the direction she had disappeared in. “That way,” she squeaked. “with a boy. Short, backward hat?” Both boys made eye contact and nodded. “Romeo.” They said in unison, and the brother got up to get swallowed in the crowd. The other boy was left to make awkward eye contact with Katherine, nodding his head hello. “That’s… quite a drink you have there.” He said, almost sounding impressed. She leaned closer to him. “It’s gross,” under her breath, “I’d honestly rather have the wine.” The boy laughed, full and broad with his head tipped all the way back. Katherine stuck her hand out. “I’m Kath.” “Jack,” the boy offered his hand. “Do you know Sarah?” She awkwardly shook her head. “I’d sure like to, though. Do you know her?” “She's my boyfriend’s sister. That was him just now, he likes to keep tabs on everyone when we go out. Davey.” Jack explained, voice raising over the loud music. “Are you here with anyone?” Katherine pointed in the general direction of Race and his ‘friend.’ “Race? He’s over there somewhere with a friend. But he’s like a brother to me.” Jack quirked an eyebrow. “So… you don’t have a New Years kiss?” Right as he said that sentence, the countdown from a minute began spreading through the bar. “Expert timing, Jack.” Katherine laughed. Jack did a silly bow, his hat almost falling off of his head. When he straightened back up, he looked around one more time. “Can you promise not to move for the next, thirty seconds?” Jack yelled, the volume getting steadily louder. Katherine nodded, confused but not exactly scared of this boy. He seemed harmless enough, albeit goofy. Jack dashed into the crowd and Katherine was left to her own devices for the third time that night. &&& She had lost Romeo within thirty seconds of going on the dance floor, so Sarah decided to head for the bathroom instead. The line wasn’t very long, thankfully, so she was in and out just in time for the whole bar to start counting down. 48, 47, 46, pounded in her ears as she tried to squeeze past people to head back to her seat when Jack’s arm reached out and grabbed her wrist. “Jack?” She yelled, bewildered. Shouldn’t he be with her brother somewhere, getting ready to ring in the new year? “Follow me!” He yelled, glee evident in his voice. Inwardly, she groaned. That was the voice he used when planning something that didn’t often turn out well. Sarah was pulled all the way back to her seat, where the girl with the fun drink was sitting with a small smile on her face. 10, 9, 8, “She’s a lesbian!” and with a shout, Jack disappeared into the crowd. Sarah blushed and held out her hand. “I’m Sarah,” she offered. Katherine took her hand and pulled her in. “Katherine,” she murmured, before kissing Sarah as everyone else cheered for the new year. She tasted like artificial apples and the beginning of something new.

that happened. spot is race’s drug dealer. happy new years! 

[javis-beretta]

To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before (5)

yay! part five is here! this part is kind of short, but it’s also kind of dramatic (i hope). i think that there’ll probably be two more chapters after this one, and i am so not ready to let this story go. as always, message me w/ any questions or theories that you have. enjoy! <3

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8

“I spoke to Jack,” were the first words out of Katherine’s mouth when you answered her call. It was Facetime, this time, so you could see the shiny tears in her eyes. She didn’t give you a chance to reply before she continued.

“He texted me a half hour, or so, ago. He said that you told him that you have no feelings for him anymore. Is that true?”

Her voice was measured when she asked, but you knew her well-enough to know that her calm exterior was a practiced façade. She’d learnt it at her father’s company dinners when old white men grinned down at her condescendingly when she said that she wanted more than to be known as Joe Pulitzer’s rich daughter. She was good at it, but you knew better.

“Katherine, I promise that I feel nothing even remotely romantic for Jack. I would never hurt you like that, you know I wouldn’t.”

There was quiet for a moment, and then she exhaled, and grinned.

“Thank god! Do you know how difficult it was not to talk to you?”

You matched her smile and laughed.

“Yeah, I have some idea. My life has kind of imploded in the past couple weeks.”

You told her the official story of your relationship with Race. You wanted desperately to be honest, but Race had been right. She’d freak out and probably fly down to yell at you. Fake dating was exactly the kind of logistical nightmare that she’d hate.

Two weeks into December and week before the dreaded ski trip, you and Davey found yourselves huddled under the bleachers.

“Davey, remind me again why this is the only place we can cram for history?”

“Uh, duh, because we aren’t supposed to know about the ‘pop’ quiz. If Bunsen catches us learning, he’ll change the date again, and we won’t be able to see it coming!”

You rolled your eyes, at him, but got back to your notes.

“So, what changed in New York state labour laws in 1899?”, you quizzed him.

Before he could answer, you heard footsteps above you, and, then, voices.

“I don’t know, Race, it’s, like, you just don’t have time for me anymore. Whenever I see you, you’re with her!”

“What do you want from me, Spot? You want me to wait around until you’re done playing games? Why don’t you just hang out with your Brooklyn boyfriend?”

You swallowed and nudged Davey, motioning with your head that the two of you should get out of there.

“No way,” he whispered, low enough that you barely heard it. “They’re talking about you!”

Davey was your closest friend, and after Spot had cut the both of you off, neither of you ever found out why. He claimed to be over it, but Davey had a big heart. Spot’s betrayal hit him harder than it did you, and he wasn’t about to miss an opportunity to get some dirt on Conlon.

“He’s not like you, Race! He isn’t a good listener!”

“Yeah, well, maybe that’s because he doesn’t wait on your hand and foot like I used to. I’m done dating someone that I idolise, Spot. Do you think that’s love?”

Race sounded a little out of breath, and you had to strain to hear his next words.

“Spot, you cannot keep doing this to me.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Is she coming on the ski trip? You know that’s been our thing since we started high school, Racer.”

“Why would that be your business? The trip’s in a week and you have a boyfriend.”

Spot sighed.

“I know, but maybe by then… I won’t.”

Something creaked and you heard Race’s scoff and his footsteps stomping away. After a while, Spot followed.

Davey turned to you with wide eyes.

“Dude. Spot is trying his luck with your boyfriend.”

You gave him a small, tight smile.

“We should get to history. Don’t need Bunsen to think we’re bunking.”

The next day, you ran into Jack. Everything was still a little awkward, but it had been a couple weeks since the party and you knew that he and Kath were back on speaking terms. The conversation you’d over heard was still playing itself on a loop in your head. Race was your fake boyfriend, but he wouldn’t cheat on you, right? And, why did the idea of him getting back with Spot put a pit in your stomach? That had been the plan, hadn’t it? Jack must have seen that something was bothering you when he stopped you in the hallway at the end of the school day.

“Hey, you look stressed. Is everything alright with you and Race?”

You suddenly remembered why Jack had meant so much to you. He was kind and intelligent, but it was more than that. It always felt like he could read your mind, before you even figured out what you were thinking.

“Uh, no, but Race-drama is probably the last thing you want to talk about.”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t care. Tell me what’s going on.”

So, you did. You told him everything, leaving out the fact that it was all supposed to be fake.

“I guess,” you concluded, “I just feel like the longer I’m with him, the more it’s going to hurt when he inevitably goes running back to Spot. I could kick myself for not seeing this coming.”

“Uh, shit, I don’t know what to tell you. That sucks. I’m sorry you have to go through that.” He reached out an arm and pulled you into a side hug.

“Y/N?”, you heard someone hiss at you from across the hallway. You both looked up to see Race standing there, with a calculus textbook in his hand.

You pulled away from Jack.

“Hey, do you need a lift today? Should I wait?”, he asked kindly

“Thanks, Jack, but you’d better not.”

You headed to Race and pulled him into an emptier corridor. His voice was sharp when he spoke again.

“What the hell? What do you think people will say when they see my girlfriend cozying up with Jack Kelly?”

“Excuse me? What do you think people will say when they hear that you’re practically begging to get back with Spot?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I heard you talking on the bleachers.”

“Oh, so you’re spying on me now?”

“Not intentionally!”

He scoffed.

“Okay, so I was talking to Spot. So, what?”

“Yeah, exactly. So, what? Look, neither of us expected this to go on for so long. Spot obviously wants you back, Jack and I are cool. I think we can call it.”

He looked hurt.

“I cannot believe that you’re trying to end this before the ski trip. It’s in the contract!”

“Yeah, only if we’re still together.”

“We are still together! You’re just trying to pull out because you’re scared.”

You stepped nearer to him, and you could see his chest rising and falling.

“What do I have to be scared of, Higgins?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

Somewhere, you hear a bell ring.

How do you tell your fake boyfriend that you can’t go skiing with him because you’re developing real feelings? You can’t. Instead, you take a step back. From a little further away, it’s easier to avoid the sparkle in his eyes, or to stop your hand from grabbing onto his fidgeting one.

“Fine. Whatever. I’ll see you on Friday. The bus leaves at seven, right?”

He looks a little shocked that you’ve given in.

“I, uh. Yeah.”

“Cool. Don’t save me a seat.”

TAGLIST: @the-kool-aid-man-is-real @broadwayloser @newsies-nuisance @bennie-badeend @all-american-fangirl @hungoverhellhound @seriously-ceci @ben-cook-can-cook @pinecovewoods @brendonuriehimself @races-erster @the-butterfly-anon

[elleberquist6]

Play Upon Me Like This Piano - chapter twenty-nine

Summary: In many ways, Phil’s life is perfect: he loves his life in London, he has a wonderful brother and parents, and he has a great job as a radio DJ for BBC Radio One. There’s only one thing missing in his life… A rumor reaches an executive at the BBC about a talented local piano player named Daniel. The executive decides that Daniel would be the perfect guest on Phil’s radio show, so she sends Phil to speak with the evasive and mysterious piano player.

When they finally meet, Phil starts to think that he has found the person who will make his life complete. Unfortunately, Dan has a secret that will make getting close to him difficult.

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 1703

Warnings: Smut

—

Siren fact: Pearl Weepers - Popular myth of mermaids who can weep tears that instantly transform into the most beautiful pearls. Some believe that they are made when a mermaid walks on her newly formed legs on the shore, with each new step being more painful than the last. [http://www.realmermaids.net/mermaid-facts/mermaid-types/]

“Ummm…” As Phil took a closer look into the shadows under the blanket, he saw that the tears rolling down Dan’s cheeks were forming solid white beads – they looked liked minuscule pearls, and Phil didn’t know how to process this information. There was no time for this right now, so he just nodded and thought of a plan. Phil declared, “Well, if you can’t walk without feeling pain, I should just carry you.”

Dan’s shimmering eyes widened, but he didn’t protest as Phil wrapped an arm around his side and swept the other around his bare legs. Dan continued to grip the blanket under his chin with one hand, but he looped his other hand around the back of Phil’s neck to help as Phil lifted him up. His breath tickled Phil’s neck as he whispered, “Hmmm, you’re strong.”

Dan sounded impressed and a bit aroused despite the situation, which made Phil laugh as he started to walk in the direction of Martyn and Cornelia, taking an indirect route to avoid the EMT who was still fighting to reach them. Phil teased, “Keep it in your pants, Howell. This isn’t the time.”

“How can I do that?” Dan quipped. “I’m only wearing boxer-briefs, no pants. I left my pants on the pier yesterday. This is all your fault, you know. You’re far too skilled at getting me out of my pants.”

Phil’s jeans were feeling a bit tighter as his body started to respond – there was something about talking like this, having Dan in his arms, and feeling so protective of him as his body coursed with adrenaline. This time he said to both Dan and himself, “This really isn’t the time for this…”

“Phil Lester!” a man shouted. “Phil Lester, is that you?”

Phil stopped walking and turned his head at the sound of his name. He was looking for someone familiar, but instead a young man with glasses and a hipster fashion sense jogged over. A camera bounced from a strap around his neck, and Phil knew that this was one of the men who he had mentally labeled ‘reporter’ earlier. As the reporter stopped to stand before Phil, he bounced on the balls of his feet excitedly.

Phil really didn’t want to stop for anything right now when he needed to get out of here, but the man wasn’t rudely shoving his camera into his face and he was reminding Phil of a hyper puppy, so Phil asked, “Do you know me? I heard my name.”

“I don’t know you. I just know who you are. You work for the BBC, right? You host a radio show.” The young reporter pulled a recording device out of his pocket and held it hopefully before him. “Mr. Lester, could I interview you? That must have been quite an interesting experience that you just lived through.”

Phil frowned, seeing the other reporters nearby perk up in interest. One of them turned on his camera, the red light of it flashing as he trained it on Phil and the hipster reporter. It seemed like they had just gathered here to get a local human interest story for their newspapers, news shows, and blogs, but now that this one reporter had recognized Phil and was treating him like a minor celebrity, the news story had just gotten more interesting for them all. As his arms were starting to feel the strain of Dan’s weight, Phil shifted to try to get a better grip on Dan, whose arm tightened around Phil’s neck as he tried to be less of a burden. Phil said to the young reporter, “I’m sorry, no interview.”

The hipster took a step closer, hope still shining in eyes made large by his glasses. “Please, Mr. Lester? I mean, we both work in media. You must see how important getting a cool story like this is for my career. Just give me a good comment to work with.”

“No comment,” Phil said, getting a bit annoyed that this kid was only thinking of himself, while Phil was literally carrying someone who obviously wasn’t alright – perhaps Phil’s first thought upon seeing the reporters had been correct: these people were vultures. “Look, I’m done talking to you. My boyfriend needs help.” “Come with me, sir,” said a voice behind him.

Phil turned to see that the EMT whom he had been avoiding had finally caught up with him. Her dark skin was glistening with sweat on her temples and she looked annoyed with him, but then she focused as she shifted her attention to Dan. Phil knew that he had no choice but to follow her as she used her authority to cut a path through the crowd, and he followed without protest. Luckily, she was headed for the ambulance where Phil knew Martyn was, and a moment later he saw him.

Martyn and Cornelia were sitting at the open end of an ambulance – a towel was wrapped around his shoulders and a blood pressure cuff was wrapped around his bicep, which was being pumped by the male EMT standing at his side. There was a smile on his face put there by Cornelia’s presence, but when he turned his head and saw Phil approaching, the smile faltered at the sight of Dan in his arms.

Just as Martyn opened his mouth to say something, the female EMT who had led Phil here stepped forward to examine Dan, blocking Martyn’s view. She said, “Bring him over here, you can lay him down on the gurney.”

Dan stiffened at the words and tightened his grip around Phil’s neck. His voice emerged muffled by the blanket that was still across his face, “No. I’m fine.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” She tugged at the blanket, exposing his face. Dan gasped and blinked at her, and his eyes flicked between her face and Phil’s. Phil knew why Dan was panicking, but Dan wasn’t crying anymore and he looked normal – the few strange tears that he had wept earlier had been brushed away by the blanket. The EMT just gave him a patient smile as she asked, “What’s your name, sir?”

“Dan Howell,” he grumbled, still looking anxious as his face was exposed. “Really, I’m fine.”

“Well, Mr. Howell, I’m going to be the judge of that.” She grabbed his wrist to start taking his pulse. “This will go much easier if you lie on the gurney.

“Hey! Get out of here!” shouted the male EMT who had been tending to Martyn. He was glaring at someone standing to Phil’s left.

Phil was so tired of all of this – his heart hadn’t stopped racing since he stepped off the boat and he just wanted to calm down. Turning in the direction the EMT was glaring, he saw that the hipster reporter had followed them, and his camera was now raised. Phil blinked as it clicked, snapping a series of photos of him holding Dan. Then the person he wanted most in this moment stepped between him and the camera, her arms outstretched protectively. He sighed in relief, “Mum!”

She smiled over her shoulder at him, looking exhausted but happy. “Hello, sweetie. I think it’s time to get out of here, don’t you?”

Phil nodded in agreement, and Martyn also stood up, dropping the towel that the EMT had draped across his shoulders. He insisted to the man, “I’m okay, really.”

The female EMT had dropped Dan’s wrist, and she seemed too annoyed to protest as Phil walked away holding her patient. Kath stayed protectively at Phil’s side as the family pressed through the last of the crowd that had gathered to witness the return of the rescue mission. Cornelia stepped to the edge of the road, waving to hail a cab.

“Hey, it’s you.”

Once more, Phil’s heart leapt into his throat as an unfamiliar person snuck up on him. He was so tired of this… His arms were trembling, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold Dan like this. Holding his breath, he turned to see who was trying to get his attention now. He was surprised to see a man wearing a reflective vest that marked him as a member of the Lifeboat crew that had saved them.

The man was staring at Dan, not him. Dan cringed into Phil’s shoulder as the man pointed at him and asked, “I saw you get off the boat. How did you get there? You were at our station… How did you—”

Just then a cab pulled up, and Phil gave the man a polite smile as he said, “I’m sorry, we have to go.”

Cornelia and Martyn piled into the front seat, while Kath got into the backseat, leaving the door open for Phil to follow her. Phil paused, unsure how to get Dan into the cab without letting his feet touch the ground. The man from the Lifeboat Station put a hand on Phil’s shoulder, halting his escape. He said in a hard voice, “Hey, wait a second. I have to know – how did he get on that boat? This is impossible.”

Phil swallowed heavily and stepped out from under the man’s hand. He hastily half-dropped Dan on the seat of the cab in his eagerness to escape. Once more, he just said to the man, “I’m sorry.” Then he clambered into the cab and slammed the door shut.

For a long moment, all he heard was the roar of the engine, his panting breaths and the sound of Dan also breathing heavily beside him. He turned his head, and their eyes met – it looked like Dan was feeling the same sense of relief, the budding realization that they might have gotten through this day.

Then Kath said slowly, “You know… that man was asking a good question. Daniel, how did you get on that boat?”

[allthephils]

Repose

Chapter 14/?

Rated M (adult themes, mentions of sex, seeping beauty au)

word count: 2438 / 40,051

Read on AO3

Excerpt: Phil had never felt fear like this. The room closed in, his heart beat in his ears. Tears sat in his eyes but couldn’t spill over. His arms and legs prickled with adrenaline but he felt frozen in place. He ran to his room, pulling out his dresser drawer and dumping the contents onto the carpet. Rifling through, he found Dan’s Versace t-shirt and held it to his chest. Finally, the sobs broke through and he fell to his knees, crying into the shirt with a painful force. 

Chapter 14

The morning was beautiful. It had rained overnight and the world outside Phil’s window was clean and bright. He had gone to bed early, eager for a new day to spend with Dan. There was so much he wanted to tell him. He’d found a poem he thought Dan would like and had printed it to bring along and read aloud. He thought he might bring a few books to read as well. He chose the Outsiders to start with. It seemed like the kind of thing they could quote to each other later and he’d never read it so it would be new to both of them. Up earlier than usual, he took his time drinking his coffee and watched Louise’s new video. Everything felt normal, more normal than it had in a while and he basked in it. Picking up his phone, he rang his mum.

“Child.” Kath’s cheerful tone brought Phil right home.

Phil called his mother most weeks but hadn’t done since he’d first got the news about Dan.

“Mum, I’m sorry I haven’t called in a while. I’ve been busy, distracted.” Phil wanted to tell her everything. He wanted to hear her calm reassurances and her inevitable cheer leading. Instead he told her that he wanted to her soon, that they’d have to meet for breakfast because his days were full.

“Breakfast? So around noon then?” Kath jabbed at Phil but he just said, “No mum, I have to be home by noon.”

He told her he wanted to tell her what’s been going on for him, that he had good news but that it was too long a story to tell on the phone. He was done hiding. If he was going to fight this fight, he needed his family on his side. Kath was baffled at the mystery and the serious tone but she agreed and they made a date for the following week. When he ended the call Phil sat satisfied and feeling like today was the first day of something new. Something was going to change, he could feel it in his bones. He absolutely couldn’t wait to get in that car with Dennis. Phil glanced as his kitchen clock. 12:20. He’d talked to his mum longer than he thought, though that always happened with them.

Dennis had never been late before. He ran downstairs to see if maybe he didn’t hear the knock but there was nothing. No car at the curb, no Dennis. Maybe there was an accident on the road, traffic. He went back upstairs and sat on the sofa, waiting.

12:30. 12:45.

He had no way to reach Dennis, no way of knowing what was going on unless someone contacted him. 12:55. Phil’s stomach twisted into knots. He held his breath and opened Twitter on his phone. Just the usual cursed prince tabloid nonsense.

1:00.

If something happened to Dan, how would he know. He felt sick. If something had happened to Dan. What if he took a turn for the worse? They wouldn’t just leave Phil here, not knowing, would they? They wouldn’t let him find out in some awful Twitter headline that Dan had… He stop mid thought, unwilling to even consider the possibility that Dan could be gone.

1:10.

He picked up his phone and called Louise.

“Hey! They let you keep your phone today! Does this mean I get photos?” Louise was her usual chipper self but Phil broke at the sound of her voice.

“Lou, I’m not there. They didn’t come. What do I do Louise? Oh my god, what if he died? What if he died and they just aren’t coming?” Phil was near hyperventilation. He couldn’t catch his breath.

“Phil, listen.” Louise spoke slowly. “I’m on my way. We’ll go together and get to the bottom of this. Phil, breath for me sweetie. I need to know you're safe on your own till I get there.”

Phil took deep, slow breaths, gaining some small measure of control. “Ok, ok. I’m ok. I’ll be ok. Hurry Lou.”

Phil had never felt fear like this. The room closed in, his heart beat in his ears. Tears sat in his eyes but couldn’t spill over. His arms and legs prickled with adrenaline but he felt frozen in place. He ran to his room, pulling out his dresser drawer and dumping the contents onto the carpet. Rifling through, he found Dan’s Versace t-shirt and held it to his chest. Finally, the sobs broke through and he fell to his knees, crying into the shirt with a painful force. He stayed on the floor of his bedroom, playing through all the possibilities in his head. None of them were good. He heard the door slam and Louise called out, “Phil!”

When he look up, she walked past him and set a box on the bed. “This was outside your door. It’s addressed to you.”

Phil swallowed hard and stood. He shook so violently, he found it difficult to pull the tape off the box. For a long moment, he just stared at the still closed cardboard flaps.

“Phil, love, do you want me to…” Louise stepped forward but Phil held up his hand and shook his head. He carefully lifted one flap and then the others. When he saw what was inside, Phil gasped, his hand flying up to cover his mouth. The bottom of the box was littered with dirt from Loki’s pot, which lay on it’s side. The candles were there and the fairy lights, among broken glass from Phil’s terrarium. Everything was here, everything except Buffy. Phil reached in carefully and pulled out Loki, scooping as much dirt back in as he could manage, and straightening the little cactus in it’s tiny red pot. Phil stood tall, pulled his shoulders back, and wiped his tears. He closed the box and walked to the window, setting Loki on the sill, then turned to look at Louise.

“I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Phil had grown accustomed to waking up with Dan in his bed. His body was aware of the absence before his brain was fully awake. He fluttered his eyes open to see a blurry figured leaned against the doorway, arms folded like a catalog model.

“Dan?” Phil said, his voice thick with sleep. He reached for his glasses and put them on, with the sole purpose of seeing Dan. He couldn’t care less if the whole world was blurry so long as Dan came into focus.

“What are you doing?”

Dan’s smile was reserved but genuine. “Watching you sleep.”

“Ok creeper.” Phil joked, though his heart flipped, it’s one of those things people say in romantic stories and you laugh and roll your eyes. It’s not romantic, it’s creepy. Except it was romantic. If only because Phil understood the impulse. If he had a choice, his gaze would always fall on Dan. He had a twisting pain in his neck from sleeping half sitting up with Dan snuggled into his arms. He stretched and arched, cracking and popping, trying to set things back where they belong.

Dan just watched.

“You’re dressed.” Phil stated the obvious, disappointed at what that must mean.

“I have to go. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to wake you, we were up so late.” Dan smirked, a light blush in his cheek.

“OK. Will you be back tonight?”

Dan shook his head, wistful. “I have to spend some time with my grandmum tonight. I promised.”

“Your grandmum? You’re hanging with the queen tonight?” Phil thought he’d never get used to these abrupt reminders of Dan’s actual position in life.

“I am. She wants to discuss university, my future, you know.” Dan shrugged. “I wish I could bring you. You are my future after all. It seems ridiculous to discuss any of it without you.” Dan’s phone rang out and he huffed. “I have to go before Dennis has a literal baby out there. I’ll see you tomorrow after work, ok?”

Phil nodded and smiled into the kiss Dan leaned in for.

Dan whispered I love you and left. The words drifted through Phil’s mind like soft waves at low tide, rushing in, idling out, rushing in, idling out. He heard his front door close and heard himself whisper I love you too to the empty room.

Dan was the kind of person that should listen to jazz and Brian Eno and paint in the middle of the night. He was the kind of person who chains himself to a bulldozer to save a century old tree. That’s how Phil saw him anyway. Designer trousers and penthouse parties and living in a literal castle didn’t suit him. As privileged as he seemed, and he was so careful to own his privilege, his life was oppressive to him. Phil’s free spirit, his self actualized vision for his life, it was more than Dan could ever hope for. He admired Phil and he envied him in a way.

He spent days off poking around the flat, exploring and learning Phil in more and more detail. Phil learned Dan too. He learned how he takes coffee and he memorized what he sounds like when he sleeps. He learned that he’s an incredibly loud and competitive gamer but that he smiles proudly when Phil finally beats him. And he learned that Dan’s circumstance and his family dynamic had invited more demons into Dan’s life than he could handle sometimes. He learned how to hold him and talk him through when those demons got too demanding.

When Dan showed up in the evening, his cheeks were red and he barely held back his tears.

“Dan?” Phil pulled him close held him in his arms. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

Dan pulled away and paced the room, running his hand through his hair. “I can’t fucking do this anymore. I don’t want to. This isn’t who I am.” Phil watched as Dan moved about the room, manic. “But it is who I am, isn’t it? They groomed me like every prince before me, why do I have to want more? Why can’t I just be one of them so it doesn’t have to feel like this?”

“What happened?” Phil asked, trying to keep himself calm in the face of Dan’s distress.

“Paps spotted Dennis outside your place. Who knows how long they’ve been watching. They waited outside the shelter. Obviously, Dennis got me out a different way but they were out there, yelling. Asking what I’ve been up to, am I dating a commoner, am I gay? It always comes back to the gay question.” Dan stopped and sat on the sofa, looking up at Phil, his voice shook, “They stood outside a battered women’s shelter Phil. Shouting. And it’s my fault, because I won’t just grow up and fall into line, I brought that chaos to a place that’s supposed to be safe.”

Phil’s embrace knocked down Dan’s defenses and he sobbed, letting himself be held. Phil rocked and shushed him, fighting back his own tears. “It’s not your fault. I’ve got you. I’m here.”

Dan gathered himself, pulling back to look at Phil. “Phil I’m so sorry, Dennis’ threats will keep them at bay for a couple days but they’ll be back. They’ll wait outside your door. Fuck. This shit just follows me everywhere. I’m fucking poison Phil.”

“Stop it Dan. I won’t let you do that. You didn’t ask for any of this.”

“Well I certainly didn’t do anything to prevent it.”

“You spend every day helping people, every day. Then you come here and you make me happier than I’ve ever been. You’re not poison, you’re everything.” Phil’s voice cracked a bit and he drew in his own shaky breath, trying hard to keep it together for Dan but failing. “Let them wait, I never go outside anyway. In a couple days, we’ll both be gone for Christmas. We’ll wait it out. It’ll be ok.”

Dan cried into Phil’s t-shirt till there were no tears left then followed Phil into bed where he slept. It was the deep sleep of exhaustion and truly letting go, the kind that comes when the one you’re with is wide awake, holding space, helping you carry the heavy load.

They spent the next day their favorite way, in bed. The mood was heavy but they had each other and it was ok. They ordered every meal in and watched their favorite Christmas movies, Gremlins and Die Hard, not quite catching the ending of either of them. In between, they talked. Topics like the queen’s opinion on Dan’s future, university, and paparazzi, were off limits. Instead, they discussed the colors in Phil’s eyes and how he once ate fish food as a kid. They talked about the wonderful nanny that cared for Dan and Adrian as kids and how she bakes the most amazing mince pies. They listed all the places they wanted to travel to together. Tomorrow morning Dan and Dennis would drive Phil to the ferry to the Isle of Man and Dan would be on his way to Windsor to spend Christmas with his family. They’d be apart for just shy of two weeks but it sounded like an eternity.

Winter mornings meant bright, glaring sun through the window. Dan rolled away from light and into the warmth of Phil. Phil always slept so deeply with Dan there in his bed. He didn’t even stir as Dan hooked his leg around his, pressing himself close to Phil’s side, nuzzling his nose into Phil’s neck, breathing in gingerbread scented body wash. Dan pressed his lips there, feeling the rhythm of Phil’s pulse and there was a hum of sweet satisfaction in response. Phil turned his body toward Dan and his arms enveloped this treasure of his.

“It’s not daytime. Go back to sleep.” He murmured, squinting as he opened his eyes..

“It is daytime, it’s bright in here.” Dan answered.

“Close the blinds, we can pretend it’s night and then we don’t ever have to go.” Phil held Dan as tight as he could.

“Just close your eyes.” Dan said and he kissed each of Phil’s eyelids as they fluttered shut. “There. It’s night. We have nowhere to be.” Dan’s lips met Phil’s and they kissed, slowly first, then building in tension and heat.

Phil moved his lips across Dan’s jaw and and bit at his earlobe. “Good. I wanna give you something to think about when we’re apart.” At those words, he disappeared under the duvet and the quiet house filled with Dan’s sighs. Dennis would just have to wait a little bit longer.

[denimwrites-archive]

The Meeting (Part 1)

Prompt: I couldn’t get the thought of a tough yet compassionate gangster Davey, so here we are.

Fandom: Newsies (2017) - 1920’s Gangster AU

Pairing: Gangster!Davey Jacobs X Librarian!Reader

Series Summary: You work at the library and show off the meeting rooms in the building to a mysterious man who stops by, not knowing your life would change forever. Katherine warns you about who he really is, and you learn more on your own over the course of a few weeks, being put in danger but too caught up in him to care. But will he catch you if you fall for him or will no one catch you in time?

Chapter Summary: A man asks about the meeting rooms in the library where you work, and about the exits, but you don’t pay it any mind until your friend, Katherine, sheds some light on him.

Word Count: 2,161

Warnings: Language, mention of mob meetings? Nothing too bad yet.

A/N:  Okay, another series started. I have no idea when this will be updated, but I’m going to try for every two weeks? But if things come up, things come up. I’m excited for this though, and I’m going to be trying a different style to kind of show the duality between the reader and Davey. Feedback is definitely appreciated! <3

Part 1 - Part 2

~~~

Awaking to the ringing of your alarm clock, you groan as you stretch. Settling back into bed you attempt to get yourself ready to face the day. Swinging your legs over the edge of the mattress, you stand and stretch again, causing your brain to lose some of its sleep fog. Heading to your kitchen you pour some juice and put some bread in the toaster, before you head back to your room to get ready for the day.

After you finish getting dressed, you eat breakfast and head off for work. Making your way down the street with the rest of the city foot traffic, you buy a newspaper off of a boy on the corner, giving him an extra penny for his cheerful grin. Finally arriving at the library, you rush through its doors and behind the counter, ready to start the day.

A few blocks away Davey was also getting ready to start the day. Getting dressed in his suit, and making sure his little brother, Les, was up and to school on time. He made some eggs for the two of them, and he told Dave about how class was going and how he was looking forward to playing with his friends during break.

Davey couldn’t help the smile that came over his face as he listened to Les talk about the stories he and his friends would act out during recess. He thought about how grateful he was to be able to take care of Les and his folks, who lived on the other side of the borough. He and Les visited every week, and Dave made sure they were comfortable. Ever since their dad’s accident, work has been hard, and he needed to be where he was to help Jack run his operation, so Les was with him.

He knew it was hard on his mom and dad, but that was the way things had to be, at least for now. After breakfast was finished, Dave grabbed his hat and briefcase, before walking Les to school. Waving his brother goodbye, he continued down the road to the restaurant on the corner. Giving a nod to the host, he made his way through the back door and to the building behind it. Knocking a pattern on the door, it was opened to reveal Albert. He patted his shoulder and moved past, to the office he knew Jack would be in.

A light knock and he entered to see Jack reading the day’s paper. “Hey, Davey, did you find a neutral place for that meeting with Conlon tomorrow?”

Davey chuckled, “Good morning to you to.” Walking over to the other desk in the room he set down his briefcase and opened it, grabbing some papers and walking over to stand in front of Jack.

He folded up the newspaper, and gave him his full attention, “Sorry, Dave, you know that Spot coming for a meeting has me in a bunch. How’s Les? Is he following after his uncle and being a troublemaker?”

Shaking his head, “You’re not his uncle, Jack, more like another brother. And no, he’s behaving himself, thank god.” Handing the papers to Jack, he began again, “Here are some of the sights we were considering for the meeting. I haven’t gotten to go out and scout them all since I wanted your opinion first.”

As Jack glanced over a few of them, his mouth was set in a grim line. “I’m not finding any of these especially great Dave. We need someplace public enough that he won’t cause a scene if something goes wrong, and if something does go wrong, we need an easy exit.” Setting the papers down, he lets out a sigh and rubs a hand over his face. Davey goes to say something, but Jack stops him with a hand. He sits forward and scratches his chin, pausing before looking into Davey’s eyes. Slapping a hand down on the desk, “I got it! How about the library?”

Davey bobs his head considering it, “They do have meeting rooms on the second floor. And it’s one of the larger branches so it won’t just be Manhattan turf.” Jack raises his eyebrows at him, with a flourish of his palms. “I’ll go check it out after I talk to Specs about that meeting he had in Queens. I just got to check and make sure their payments are on time, or at least on their way.”

With a nod from Jack, he sets off to do just that, while you go about reshelving some of the books that were returned to the book drop. As you step up another rung on the ladder you’re on, Katherine comes careening around the corner, bumping into the ladder. You let out a squeak as it wobbles slightly, and you glare down at your friend who has a sheepish smile on her face.

Shelving the last book in your hand, you make your way back down to the floor. “Hey, Kath, what can I do for you?”

She smiles, “I need…” she trails off and grabs her notebook, flipping through it until she finds the scribble she was looking for. “Any and all stories and records about the owners of the Thomas Racetrack.”

Leading the way over to the shelves, you sort through the cards muttering to yourself until you find the one you’re looking for. Grabbing it, you hand it to her, before digging in again. You end up pulling about five cards, and then head off to find the corresponding books and newspaper archives, talking while you do. “So, big story with this racetrack? Trying to shed some light on some shady dealings?”

Katherine gives you a small giggle and a nudge. “Nothing so interesting, but who knows what this might reveal. It’s actually a story on the owners and how they grew their business. I interview them this week, but I wanted to do some homework on the place first so I can get more than just the standard information.”

“What’s the big occasion? Usually stories about the track are only about the races?”

“It’s their thirtieth anniversary being open this Friday, and since they contribute so much to the sports pages the Sun wanted to give back. And I’m the one stuck with the fluff piece.” She lets out an exasperated sigh and you give her a sympathetic smile.

“Hey,” you say, getting her attention, “I know you’re going to give it your all. And who knows? Maybe they’ll love it and have you cover the next big race? That’ll get your name out there for sure!” You can see her perk up at that and give a determined nod. After you’ve found all of the books and articles you leave her at a desk before heading back to the front counter, relieving your coworker to go and reshelve for a little bit.

You settle in and grab one of the books in the stack next to you, deciding to read while you wait to see if any patrons need help, or want to check something out. But you don’t get very far into the story when someone is clearing their throat in front of you. Setting down the book and looking up to the man in front of you, you freeze when you see his deep brown eyes. His growing smile at your state as well.

“Uh… How can I help you today, sir?” you finally ask, snapping back to reality. You feel your face heat up as you really take in his appearance. Tall, dark hair under a pinstripe hat, matching the rest of his three piece suit. He stands tall, like he knows his purpose and is going to fulfill it, holding himself proudly and permeating an essence of strength.

He also seems to be taking you in, and you feel your cheeks warm even more at the attention. After what seems like an eternity, he finally states his business. “Do you have meeting rooms that are open to the public?”

“Yes, we do. They’re up on the second floor. I can show you if you like?”

The man smiles and nods, “If it isn’t any trouble, I would love to.” Standing up from your position behind the counter, you brush your hands on your bottoms, slightly nervous. Making your way to the front you motion him towards the stairs to the side of the building, walking beside him as he starts forward. “I’m David Jacobs, by the way.” he introduces himself, holding a hand out.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), pleasure to meet you.” Shaking his hand, you decide to keep the conversation going. “May I ask what the meeting room would be used for? I’ll need it later for the paperwork anyway, but I have to admit I’m curious.”

“Strictly business. My boss wanted a neutral place to discuss some opportunities with a competitor, and who’s more neutral than the library?” He smiles at you, and you smile back, proud that more businesses are taking advantage of the library and its many uses. And you say so when you make it to the second floor landing, before walking down the corridor.

“Well the library is here as a public structure, we’re here to help in whatever way possible. And I for one, am very happy that businesses are starting to see that and use the resources we provide.” Turning down a side hallway, you stop in another hallway in front of a row of windows. Gesturing to the sets of doors on the walls opposite of the windows, “These are some of our meeting rooms, the smaller ones. I wasn’t sure what size you needed so I thought I’d start with these. They can hold up to twenty people, and are much more private than our bigger rooms.”

“And where are the exits in relation to these rooms?” David asked, quickly scanning the hallway and back up the way you came.

“Well on the other side of these windows is the fire escape, which leads to the ground, but the other closest exits are through that hallway we came down, or the other hallway up ahead that reconnects to the rest of the library. You would have to use the stairs we came up, or the stairs at the other end of the building in case of an emergency.”

“Can I please see the larger of the meeting rooms? We aren’t entirely sure how many of our competitor’s people are coming, so it might be best to go bigger.” With a nod, you lead him back to the main section of the second floor before heading towards the back wall. Next to the other set of stairs, there was another hallway that lead to another corridor that was similar to the last meeting room section, but the rooms could hold over forty people.

Explaining this to him, you also spoke of the emergency exits from these rooms. “Again, there’s a fire escape on the other side of these windows, but the stairs back to the ground floor are much closer. Of course with the other rooms, you could always slide down one of the columns back to the first floor,” you joked with a smile.

He chuckles along before glancing across the way at one of the said columns, “That’s actually not a bad idea. Thank you for your time, I think one of the smaller rooms would be perfectly fine. You said there’s paperwork to fill out?”

Motioning towards the staircase closest, you explain on the way back to the front desk, “It’s just a form saying that you agree to library no food or drink policy, and that you’ll leave the room the way you found it. Nothing big, but some people like to damage the tables. And let’s just say our budget is small enough as it is, we don’t need to keep paying for new tables if we can help it.”

He gives a solemn nod and starts to fill out the form once you hand it to him. You find yourself getting lost in the smooth planes of his face, but his eyes snapping to meet yours, causes your breath to catch in your throat. He smiles at you and sends you a wink, “See you tomorrow then, (Y/N).” And then he’s walking out the door.

It takes Katherine calling your name a couple of times to finally grab your attention. “Do you know who that was?” she asks in concern.

“Who? David? He seemed like a nice enough guy, why? What’s the matter?”

She’s blinking at you in surprise. “David? David Jacobs? Also known as the right hand man of Jack “The Boss” Kelly? The leader of the Manhattan Mob?” And then it’s your turn to blink at her in surprise. And then it dawns on you.

“Oh my god, that means there’s going to be a mob meeting here tomorrow.”

Tag List: @helplesshansen

[daveyjacobss]

UNBELIEVABLE : PART ONE

RACE X READER

[NEWSIES]

REQUEST(S):  “Any Race imagine but if it could be funny that would be amazing because I love Race and I’m in the mood for funny. Thank you for doing this!”

“If you wrote race x reader I would love you forever”

SUMMARY: Y/N is breaking one of the most important and enforced newsie rules. And, worse than that, she’s got a crush on her way too attractive selling partner that simply won’t go away.

A/N: okay so apparently i’m incapable of writing short imagines because this’ll have a part two coming soon. there’s not too much race x reader in this one because it’s more of a buildup, but next part will have more of that. i tried my best to make it funny, i guess? and by that i mean i just let the narrator (reader) go with barely any filter on their thoughts so, enjoy!

__________

When it came to being a newsie, there were rules in place that really should be followed. I had never been one to really favor breaking the rules without necessary, so I followed as many as possible:

1. Pay for your papes 2. Do whatever it takes to sell them 3. Don’t steal anybody’s anything 4. Do not come back with papes left unless you want to be eating them for dinner

There are some rules, however, that just have to be broken. Such as lucky rule number five:

5. No girls allowed

This rule in particular was bullshit in my opinion, and really it was there for no reason. Why would The World deny having more papers sold just because a girl was selling them? Honestly, it’s like these guys know nothing. But, you know, it wasn’t too much of a setback. It just meant getting up earlier than all the other boys to make sure all my hair stayed tucked in my cap, wrap up my chest a little bit (since boys aren’t exactly supposed to have breasts) - oh, and no talking. Ever.

Me attempting to imitate a boy’s voice was just too pathetic, and this way I would never slip up. Sure, it takes a lot of restraint to not scream at some of the boys sometimes, but it pays for the food. Plus, the minute the boys found out I was “mute” they rejoiced - according to them I was a gold mine. All I needed was a selling partner, and we’d make easy money.

Race had jumped at the opportunity. Sometimes I wish he hadn’t. It’s much harder to pretend to be a straight boy when your partner’s smile is so cute you’re pretty sure it’s not even legal. And, God, that damn smirk of his. How’s a girl supposed to stay in control when he’s making some dumb joke, sporting that smirk with his hair all messed up from a day of selling papes? It’s just unfair.

And of course I had wished for someone to confide in. I hadn’t talked at all in months, and I could barely remember what my voice sounded like. When I got time alone, sometimes I would whisper to myself under my breath just for relief purposes. There’s just so much to talk about, and I haven’t gotten to say any of it all because of some stupid rule that says I can’t be a girl if I want to sell papes. From the very beginning I had been dying to find someone who I trusted enough to tell without them blabbing to everyone, but I just hadn’t worked up the courage yet. I certainly hadn’t planned to have Katherine find out because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.

She was walking with me on the way back to the lodge and she was working on an article, thinking out loud at she wrote. “Ugh, I need a good synonym for amazing. I’ve used that word like five times already.” She ran a hand over her face, obviously in distress, and it just kind of slipped out.

“Phenomenal.” Her eyes widened and she looked up from her paper at me slowly, shock overtaking her face. I slapped a hand over my mouth as I felt the panic start to take hold of me.

“You - you can talk? Oh my god, oh my god. Were you just pretending to sell more papers? That’s some damn good commitment you got there…”

“Please don’t tell anyone!” I squeaked, which was very much the wrong thing to do, because up until this point she had only heard me say one word - and gender is kind of hard to determine from four syllables. However, when you’ve said an entire sentence in your much-higher-than-a-boy’s voice, that kind of gives it away. For a second time, she freaked.

“You’re a girl! That’s why you don’t talk! That’s hilarious!” She broke out laughing as I stood there, still scared out of my mind but a little bit calmed by her lack of anger. “I won’t tell any of the boys, promise,” she breathed, smiling. “Oh, but this is so great! Finally, another girl I can talk to about these damn boys!” I laughed at that, and soon we were both giggling like idiots.

Suddenly, her face lit up. “How long has it been since you got to, you know, lose the getup?”

“Don’t know, lost count.” I shrugged and she squealed. Grabbing my arm and dragging me in the opposite direction of the lodge. “Kath, we’re going the wrong way.”

“Nope, you’re not going to the lodge.”

“I’m not?”

“No, you’re staying at my place and you’re going to get to be a girl again for tonight.”

__________

“Hey! Anybody seen Mute?”

A chorus of ‘no’s came as a response, and Race sighed. He’d left his partner with Katherine, but they had yet to make it to the lodge and it was already dark. Jack was worried as well, both of them concerned that something had happened. Mute was a great selling partner with all the sympathy he ignited, but he was a scrawny guy and if someone had attacked them, Race wasn’t sure Mute would’ve been able to fight them off. Eventually, it got too late, and both he and Jack fell asleep.

__________

An hour before the boys woke up for the morning, I came sneaking through the lodge door, already prepped and ready for the day (hair clipped in place thanks to Katherine, and breasts securely flat). I’d spent the night with Katherine sharing stories and finally talking about all the things I’d been dying to say. Saying Kath was excited when I went on a rant about how annoyingly attractive Race was was an understatement - the reporter was ecstatic. I tried to calm her down - “it’s never gonna happen, Kath, to him I am and always will be a boy. And even if he’s gay, I can’t even speak” - but it was no use.

We hadn’t actually ended up sleeping. Instead, we’d spent the early hours making me look like a boy again, with some added improvements. Before I’d left, Kath had given me a book, so when I arrived back at the lodge and there was a little while before the morning bell would ring, I sat on my bunk and read.

The minute the morning bell rang, the lodge filled with noise. All the boys were waking up and fighting for space. In order to avoid the chaos, I walked outside, leaving the book on my bunk. I was enjoying the small noises of a New York morning when suddenly someone was standing next to me.

“You and Kath get back alright last night? Didn’t see you before I fell asleep.” The mere sound of Race’s voice made my face heat up and I hated it. The fact that he had noticed my absence made my heart skip a beat, even though I was sure it was more of a brotherly type of “this kid can’t even talk he needs to be protected” kind of way. I nodded as a response and he gave a little nod of his own.

After the previous night I wanted more than ever to tell Race everything. Maybe if he knew I was a girl things would be different. Maybe if I could actually talk to him, this whole thing would be easier.

“Mornin’ boys!” Jack came up behind us with Crutchie beside him. “Hey Mute, Kath get home okay?” Before I could respond with a nod, Race was talking.

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” He pointed down the street a little where Katherine appeared to be sprinting toward us at full speed. When she reached us she was panting heavily, attempting to relay what must’ve been important news.

“The Delanceys… they’re coming here… heard something about a girl Newsie,” she said in between breaths. I felt my heart stop in my chest. Being discovered as a girl by the boys or Katherine was one thing, being discovered by the Delanceys was another. They wouldn’t hesitate to take me away for breaking the rules, and I don’t think the fact that I’m a girl would stop them from roughing me up a bit.

“I think we would’ve noticed if one of was a girl,” Romeo said, causing all the boys to laugh. By now everyone was up and gathered. Katherine kept glancing around and I could tell she was panicking. I made brief eye contact with her and I’m sure she could see the fear in my eyes. She was doing a better job at hiding it. I was about to start shaking uncontrollably. In the distance, The Delancey brothers could be seen walking in our direction.

“You smell that boys?” Race called out, smiling as the Delancey brothers scowled. “It smells like we got the bad kind o’ company!”

“I’d shut your mouth if I were you,” Morris growled.

“We got reason to believe one of you maggots has been breaking the rules. Youse hiding a girl in that lodge of yours.” Jack stepped up to Oscar confidently, no hesitation  in his stance.

“What - you sayin’ we wouldn’t be able to tell if we’s had a girl selling papes with us? We ain’t hiding no girls.” I wondered what would happen if Jack knew that he was lying. More importantly, what would happen if the Delanceys started poking around? They so much as knock my cap off my head an I’m a goner. It was too late to pull it down to hide my face more, it would be too suspicious. Plus, it was already blocking my face some, as usual.

I tensed as the brothers started walking through the crowd of boys. They were met with plenty of laughs and jeers, and quite a few jokes made. The world stopped.

And then started again as the Delancey boys begrudgingly left, not having found what they were looking for. The newsies taunted them as they walked away and I let out a sigh of relief.

“That was a close one,” Katherine gave a little laugh.

“Whaddya mean?” Jack asked, and I froze again. “Why was it a close one?” I watched as Katherine tensed up, trying to form some sort of explanation the wouldn’t give me away.

“Well, you know, I - uh…. I thought that, maybe, he was gonna… hit you? Yeah! I thought he was gonna hit you, but he didn’t…. So it was a close one?” Jesus Christ, Kath, really?

Murmurs were starting to get louder throughout the crowd as everyone began to search for the supposed girl among them. Race wasn’t looking at me at all, and I really don’t know whether I was relieved or offended. Maybe he trusted me too much to think I would lie. Not that I ever actually said I wasn’t a girl. Or, you know, said anything at all. If I was any of these boys, I would honestly choose myself as suspect number one. Who trusts someone you know nothing about because they can’t tell you? Ridiculous.

“It’s only a close one if one of us is actually a girl,” Crutchie spoke up. I could tell he was trying to save Katherine, God bless his pure little soul, but Kath and I were in deep shit now.

“Well, I mean…” She shot an almost unnoticeable glance my way, as if asking if it was okay. I almost nodded yes. Almost. Except then Morris Delancey was back and standing behind Katherine, and I was ready to just drop dead because this entire situation was one big piece of shit that I was not planning on when I didn’t sleep at all.

“You got information you’d like to share?” Morris asked Katherine. Her face contorted with anger as she spun on him.

“If I did I certainly wouldn’t tell you!”

“I think we left a little too soon earlier, didn’t get a chance to really check.” Oscar Delancey was standing directly behind me and his voice sent chills down my spine. How the hell did he even get there? It’s not even noon and this has got to be the worst day of my life.

And then Katherine did exactly what she shouldn’t have done. She glanced at me. And Morris saw it. In seconds, he was walking towards me. As I prepared to exposed, or maybe even hit, Race stepped in front of me quickly. He stood defiantly, staring Morris down.

“Move out my way.”

“Leave ‘im alone, he ain’t done nothin’ wrong. He can’t even speak.” Okay, maybe not the worst day. Some good things have happened. For instance, Race has showed that he cares about me twice already. Plus, if I looked down just slightly I’d have a great view of his ass (not that I’m thinking about that at all).

“Aw, have we got ourselves a poor little mute?” Oscar taunted from behind me. He was closer to me now, making it much harder to stay calm.

“I said leave 'im alone,” Race spoke, his voice much more demanding (which was damn attractive but now’s not really the time for that).

“Whatchya gonna do 'bout it?” Oscar Delancey’s hand came down on my shoulder and my entire body tensed up. And then I was off. I sprinted past Race, Morris, and Katherine. I heard the Delanceys shouting and running after me, and I was sure the boys were in absolute chaos because by now they would’ve realized that I’m the girl who broke the rules and became a newsie.

As I reached a familiar alleyway I took a sharp right and tucked myself against the wall, watching as Morris and Oscar ran past my hiding spot. I headed further down the alley, coming to what appeared to be a dead end, but really it wasn’t. Race had shown me this place our first week as partners. After a little bit of squeezing, I was through the other side and strolling leisurely down the street, headed in the direction of the lodge. I wasn’t sure what would happen when I returned, but I really had nowhere else to go.

As I got closer I could sense the commotion. I was positive at least some of the newsies had gone out to sell papes, but Race and Jack would’ve stayed behind to question Katherine. Davey would be there by now, and I wondered if he’d been filled in yet. As I walked into the lodge I got five pairs of eyes all suddenly on me. Race, Katherine, Jack, Davey, and Crutchie were all sitting and talking.

“Mute! Thank god you’re okay, we were so worried!” Crutchie was smiling at me and I couldn’t help but be confused. It was Crutchie after all, but even he seemed a bit happy considering he should’ve just found out that I’d basically been lying to him. No doubt Kath had explained that I wasn’t actually mute, and I had a real name that definitely wasn’t Mute.

“Oscar sure scared ya, but you’re safe with us,” Race smiled at me (and my heart melted).

“Sorry I missed it, Mute,” Davey gave me an apologetic smile. “I can’t believe the Delanceys really thought one of us was a girl,” he laughed.

Wait, what?

I caught Kath’s eye and she winked at me. No way. Absolutely no way. I sprint away while they’re talking about a girl secretly being a newsie and they still don’t figure it out?

“Unbelievable.”

__________

side note: I don’t mean to offend anyone with the picture of what a girl is painted in this imagine, I’m basing it more off standards/expectations of girls during the time period

[tonydadisbestdad]

Bodyguard Babe - Part 8

Peter ParkerxReader

Dad!Tony

Word Count: 1094

Summary: You thought you had some explaining to do...

~Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14~

“I’m sorry, about all that,” You started. You were halfway home by the time you finally worked up the courage to start the conversation.

“I-I’m probably overstepping, but how are you friends with them?” Peter asked. “I mean… that Vanessa was-”

“A real bitch,” You finished for him. You groaned. “I have one more year to get through with her. I just can’t stop being her friend yet. She’s petty, as I’m sure you’ve realized. I deal with it for my own sanity. I’d rather her say things to my face than behind my back. Plus I love Naomi and Kath, and I don’t want them to feel like they have to pick sides.”

“I understand,” Peter told you. “I’m sorry you have to deal with that.”

You shrugged. “It’s better than other things I could be dealing with, so I’ll take it. Oh, and th-thanks for earlier…”

Peter blushed deeply. “Uh y-yeah, I-I’m sorry about that… I-I just couldn’t take hearing her talk to you like that, a-and I figured if I said something, it would make things worse…”

“I-it was a great idea,” You told him, a small blush painting your own cheeks. “Also, can I just say for a guy that doesn’t know how to be a boyfriend, you’re a really good boyfriend.”

That small glimmer of hope Peter thought he saw flickered brighter. The red in his cheeks intensified. “W-well I-I mean… I just…” Peter sighed, unsure of what to say.

“I think it’ll be okay from here on out,” You assured him.

“Um, hopefully… th-there might have been a guy with a camera back at that restaurant when we were leaving… So yeah, I think it’ll be okay too, so long as your dad doesn’t decide to take me off because of it…”

You stopped in front of the doors to the tower, you let out a groan.

“I-I’m sorry, I just… I didn’t want to blow cover,” Peter said, he wish he didn’t have to tell you, but if he didn’t then it would look like he wasn’t aware that it was happening. He couldn’t have that.

“No, no it was good, but we should go tell him now before he hears about it tomorrow…” You suggested, even though you were dreading just the thought of it.

Peter agreed and held the door open for you as you entered the building.

To your surprise, your dad didn’t flip out when the words left your mouth, which were quickly followed by many apologies from Peter.

Tony shrugged. “What? Did you guys think I didn’t see that coming?”

You and Peter were both shocked into silence.

Tony looked between both young kids. “There was bound to be someone that caught you guys together… and come on, I knew that little brat you keep as a friend wasn’t going to believe it. Granted I didn’t think you had it in you Peter, but let’s not get too attached.”

Peter swallowed the lump in his throat at Tony’s warning. The light he had seen earlier dimmed. He couldn’t go against your dad, he wouldn’t.

“Dad, I’m going to stop you right there. We aren’t going to talk about this.” You told him. You didn’t want Peter to think he didn’t have a chance if he wanted it, because while you may have just met him, but he had charmed you and you might be smitten. You knew it wasn’t a good thing, but you hoped it could be.

“Fine,” Tony said, going back to work. “But I didn’t do this to set you two up. Peter’s here to protect you, I don’t want you distracting him. Got it?”

“Yeah dad,” You agreed. “Come on Peter.”

Peter followed you out of the lab, still in shock that your dad hadn’t yelled at him.

You pat the spot next to you on the couch. “What should we do tomorrow?”

Peter sat next to you, and the tension from before melted away.

“I’m so sick of being here, I can’t stay inside all day, so I’m sorry you have to come with me. I figure we should do some stuff you’d like to do.”

He was actually surprised you’d asked him. He assumed that he would just be following you around for a while until Mr. Stark told him he was okay to stop. He didn’t think that you would actually want to do things with him, that was something different. “U-um, I dunno…”

You shrugged. “Me either. We can decide tomorrow. For now, give me your phone.”

Peter dug in his pocket before handing it to you.

You quickly sent yourself a message so you would both have each other’s numbers before giving it back. “Nice background, did you take that?” You asked, it was a beautiful picture, it was high up and the sky was an array of colors.

Peter blushed slightly. “Y-yeah, I’m really into photography…”

“That seemed really high up though, where’d you take it?” Your curiosity peaked.

“Um, the World Trade Center…” Peter answered.

You decided to stop asking questions about it, feeling Peter’s nervousness growing, like he didn’t want you to know something.

“I uh should probably get going, my aunt will probably be home soon,” Peter told you, standing up. He froze on the spot though. “Oh no…”

“What’s wrong?” You asked, quickly.

“Aunt May is going to kill me…”

You frowned and tugged him back down into the couch. “What do you mean?”

The brunette sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I may have to lie to my aunt and tell her that you’re my girlfriend, because if she see’s a picture of me kissing you and I didn’t tell her, she’ll freak out.”

You cocked an eyebrow at him. “So, I take it she doesn’t know what you do? Granted I don’t really know what you do either, but that’s another story.”

“No,” Peter admitted. “No, she doesn’t…. Look, I’m sorry, w-would there be any chance that you might be able to meet her? N-not today of course… but-”

“Oh totally Peter, my dad and I are the reason you’re in this now. The least I can do is help cover for you, since you’re doing the same for me.”

A sigh of relief left him, his moment of panic settled into minor nerves. “You’re amazing.”

You playfully shoved his shoulder. “Go get home, I’ll text you tomorrow.”

Peter chuckled and offered you a big goofy smile before leaving. Now he just had to tell his aunt he had a girlfriend, that wouldn’t be too hard, right?

@buckysendoftheline @purplekitten30

[inked-out-trees]

hey, mr. no name kid

in which I attempt a writing exercise based off a fic I read and it ended up being 10k of pure awesomeness, so, this is my take on the scenes not shown! (original fic: http:archiveofourown.org/works/4426595 - read it!! it’ll help with the plot, I think? do it anyway.)

full and complete credit goes to @isthepartyover for creating the story I loved so much!! thanks for allowing me to post this!!

(title from “Fight For Me” from Heathers ‘cause that’s the first thing I thought of when I saw the original story)

full story under the cut!

Honestly, he was just reading. That was it. Probably one of the most non-threatening activities a person could be doing, especially with a cup of tea in an oversized colour-changing mug. It was calming and immersive, and Davey almost missed the sound of the front door unlocking. If he were fully paying attention, he would’ve noticed that there was no shuffling of either of his boyfriends taking off their shoes (besides, Jack was due to go out on a mission soon) or tapping of a crutch against the floor. However, the one absence that even Harry Potter couldn’t veil was the fact that no one said anything. (It started out as a joke, but it was instinct, at this point, to call out when they got home.) Davey slowed, reaching back down in an exaggerated motion to rest the tea on the bedside table. In the same silenced motion, he pulled the drawer open and slid his fingers across the amassed pile of junk until he found what he was looking for: the chilled metal handle of the gun they kept for emergencies. On his other side, his book lay closed, page forgotten. If this were a false alarm, he’d be frustrated at having to figure out where he was. But, he thought, and stiffened in realization, it probably wasn’t. And, as luck would have it, he turned out to be correct. Footsteps, much too heavy to be anyone but intruders’, echoed around the apartment. There were multiple sets- at least three, Davey counted- and they were treading carefully, spreading out, and checking what seemed to be every corner of the apartment. He waited. When the first person came in his line of view and was most definitely recognized as not Jack or Crutchie, he aimed and fired. He pitched himself out of the way, heart racing, as return fire came quickly. One real, honest-to-god bullet punched itself in the wall above their bed- Davey mourned for the repair costs, it was the bedroom, for god’s’ sake- and another one buried itself deep into the pile of pillows he had surrounded himself with only moments before. The next round he fired at the person at the door must’ve hit something, if the suppressed sound of pain was anything to go by. Swallowing the heartbeats that were slamming in his throat, Davey pushed himself up and ran at the door, where the first attacker must have fallen back. Every trace of anxious and raging emotion washed away as he slipped back into mission-mode. There was someone at the end of the hall, who shot wildly once and ducked around the corner. A picture frame shattered in the background. The next minute passed in a spray of bullets spanning the entire apartment, ripping holes in the couch and smashing the coffee maker, until it ended abruptly in the form of an arm closing around Davey’s throat. He had moved into the kitchen and was pretty sure he had kept track of all three unnamed shooters- except there were four, and the one he had missed was currently pressing a terrible-smelling rag over his mouth that he was desperately trying not to breathe into, but one can only go for so long. He saw Snyder there, just for a second, delicately placing a sheet of paper onto the ruined coffee table, and then everything disappeared. –

Crutchie made his way up the stairs feeling an overwhelming sense of relief. Race was more than capable of handling Jack on an easy in-and-out mission like this, and both men had given him a pass to go home. This meant that Crutchie  now could keep Davey company and maybe even make that soup he’d had his eye on for a week and a half. Man, afternoons off were great. He shoved his key into the door, humming. The content feeling that had been tickling at his heels as he walked home was alive and curling in his chest, ready to– Run, apparently, as he took in the state of the apartment. “Davey?” he yelled cautiously, maneuvering himself around a pile of shoes from the shelf that had been knocked over. His heart froze as he continued into the apartment. There were holes all over the walls, bullet holes, the chairs and couch were ripped to shreds, and there was shards of glass on the floor in at least three different places. There was no answer. Crutchie kept going. There was a hole in the wall of the bedroom, christ- that meant whatever had happened had spanned the entire place. And Davey was nowhere to be found. Crutchie picked his way back into the living area to get his bearings. Davey was gone, but whether he was safe or not was- Oh. The sheet of paper resting on the shot-burned coffee table caught his eye. In small, penned cursive, it read: Jack Let’s make a deal, shall we? Your boyfriend is with me right now, and he will remain so unless you choose to deliver yourself in his place. If you care to bring anybody but yourself, I fear his safety will be much less assured. It’s the price we pay for love, I’m afraid. The longer you wait, the less I can guarantee you will get him home. It would truly be a shame if you failed him now. You know where to find us. Snyder Crutchie crumpled the paper with shaking hands and flung it at the wall with a strangled yell. Davey. The cause of the havoc made sense now. The reasons for the bullet holes, the fact that there was still tea inside Davey’s mug, everything. It was because of Snyder. If he had only taken a cab home, or left earlier instead of chatting with Kath for a while, or- No, it was no use. He could’ve gotten home in time, but what would he have done? He’d probably end up in the same boat as Davey, and that would have just made matters worse. Besides, it wasn’t like he could turn back time. So Crutchie picked up the note, stuffed it in his bag, and ran. –

He stopped at Katherine’s office first, where the woman in question was typing intently on her computer. Her eyes drew to Crutchie immediately as he burst through the door. “Didn’t you just leave?” “I did,” he said. Then, “I got home and the apartment was a mess and this was on the table and I don’t know what to do.” He took the crumpled piece of paper out of his bag and attempted to unwrap it with shaking hands before finally slamming it on Katherine’s desk. “Oh my god,” she said quietly. Crutchie nodded frantically. “I need to tell Jack. He can’t- he needs to come back, we need to figure something out.” “This-” Katherine looked up at Crutchie with wide eyes. “Crutch, we could go to the authorities with this. Snyder’s managed to evade them by keeping things on the down-low, but this is literally a confession note. We could destroy him with this.” “How long would it take?” She bit her lip. “I’m not sure. It depends on their Danger assessment as well as ours, plus the time it takes to file for an actual warrant. But there’s also the added-” her voice cracked slightly- “hostage situation.” “That’s what I’m worried about,” Crutchie admitted. Katherine pushed back her chair and stood, walking around her desk and throwing her arms around Crutchie. “Davey’s strong. We’ll get him back.” Crutchie briefly allowed himself to be hugged, then steeled again. “I need to tell Jack.” “You do that. Make sure he comes back to us.” –

The full situation hit Crutchie again as he ran up the stairs to the tech floor, and he ended up almost tripping twice and bursting into Race’s room with more reckless abandon than he had ever felt. In any other predicament, Crutchie may have felt bad about nearly shoving Race off his chair, but there were far more worrying things at hand. He ignored the sputtering protests beside him to lean over and yell into the microphone. On one of the screens, he saw Jack stop. “They got Davey,” he whispered. Jack’s back was to the camera, but Crutchie could see the way he froze, the way horror spread through his body as easily as it had spread through his own at seeing the apartment. “I got home, and our apartment was a mess, and there was a note saying that- that Snyder has him.” As he relayed the information, he noticed Race stiffen as well, knuckles turning white as he gripped the side of the closest desk. His face looked raw, angry, even- it was no secret that Jack used to work for Snyder, but he had long since abandoned them for his new life. Everyone at the agency had heard horror stories about Snyder’s rule. “Really?” Jack asked, already sounding on the verge of tears. “Yeah.” Without warning, Race shot to his feet, slamming his hand down on the table with a wordless shout. Pens spilled across the desk from an overturned pen cup. Crutchie gulped down a suspiciously sob-like feeling as Race swore quietly. “Kath says you can come back because we have everything we need to convict. And- Jack-” He stopped. Don’t go? I’ll break down without you? I need you here? Jack must’ve understood, because Crutchie watched as he set his posture, nodded shortly, and headed for the exit. –

It took seven minutes for Crutchie to realize that Jack was most definitely not taking the quickest way back to the building. It took seven minutes and thirty seconds for Crutchie to realize that Jack was most definitely not intending to come back to the building. “You missed the turn,” he said into the microphone, his voice higher than normal. “Jack, where are you going?” Jack hummed but said nothing. “Jack. Where are you going?” Race had, in a burst of code, trained the array of screens to follow the GPS on Jack’s earpiece, and then left with a slam of the door. Crutchie had taken up residence in Race’s chair, and watched as Jack crossed another intersection, this one further away from both the agency and the apartment. It took less than a second now for Crutchie to realize what Jack was doing. “Jack, don’t you dare. Turn around and get your ass back in this building. I will drag you back here myself, Jack, just don’t do it!” Jack’s eyes searched the street ahead of him until he found a camera that was probably watching him. Crutchie desperately stared back, hoping to every degree that Jack would feel it, feel the terror, and change his mind. Quieter, “Jack, you asshole-” Jack reached up and took what looked like a black wireless earphone out of his ear. “-please.” Crutchie leaned back against the chair and drew a hand across his damp cheeks, thankful that for once the chair was comfortable and not the hard-backed wooden atrocity that was currently his own office chair. (He had to steal one from the atrium, after Jack and Spot had used their boyfriends’ respective wheely chairs to race down the hallways. Race’s had survived. His own had not.) The earpiece landed in a public trash can just as Crutchie begged, one last time, “Please come home to me.” Jack didn’t hear. He gave the camera a look that conveyed everything he wanted Crutchie to know, and kept his head down from then on. –

There was a stress ball in the first drawer on Race’s desk, and Crutchie promptly squeezed it tightly and threw it at the door. He’d been doing a lot of rage throwing recently. He went down to Kath’s office first, because she knew exactly what was going on, and the possibility that she might have an idea was significantly higher than if he went anywhere else. She was sitting again when he came in, almost in the exact same position, and looked up at Crutchie questioningly. He shook his head. “I’m so sorry,” she said, and then dropped her head on the desk and groaned. “That idiot.” “My thoughts exactly,” said Crutchie, dropping into the chair opposite Katherine. “I just wish he could’ve come back, just once. Enough for me to- to-” Jack knew that if he went there, if he went to rescue Davey, there wouldn’t be a way out. They all knew Jack knew that. “I know,” Katherine soothed, cutting him off. “Me too.” The door to the office flew open again, crashing with a resounding thud into the wall. “That goddamn idiot!” Race stalked into the room, followed by Spot, who was looking only slightly less angry. “That stupid, sacrificing idiot. We could’ve done something.” “Sure, you can join the party,” Katherine sighed. “We’re lamenting the loss of all of Jack’s common sense.” “It makes sense to him,” Crutchie muttered from behind a hand. Race cleared off the corner of Katherine’s desk and sat down on it, scraping his hand against his jeans. “This is ‘cause of Davey, isn’t it?” “There’s nothing Jack or I wouldn’t do for him. To Jack, this means following Snyder’s note. He knows exactly what he’s getting himself into, and he knows exactly who he’s doing it for.” There was a wistful tone in his voice, one that Katherine recognized immediately. She reached a hand across the table and Crutchie grabbed it, running a thumb over her smoothly painted nails. “Davey means a lot to all of us,” she said, to everyone’s agreement. “We don’t not care. And just because Snyder’s looking for Jack doesn’t mean you get to feel useless. You’re important to them and you’re important to us. You just need to be here for them when we find them again, all right?” “Be here in good shape,” Race clarified. “Not guilted half to death.” There was a long pause. “That son of a bitch,” Crutchie said finally, but nodded, and then there was silence. –

Jack drifted. At times he’d surface just enough to register a bump in the road, or the syllable of a word, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t see. Jack drifted. He woke up on a hard floor, staring at a flourescent yellow light that seared into his eyes. Everything ached, and a point on the side of his neck throbbed annoyingly. “It’s about time,” a deep, scarily familiar voice rumbled from above him. Instinctively, Jack tried to curl in on himself, but it was a sluggish and minute movement. “Now,” said Snyder, “that’s no way to react.” His mouth was dry and he gulped before answering, “I got every right to react how I want, given you just drugged me to all hell.” “Well, we couldn’t have you seeing where you were going, now, could we?” “Fuck you,” said Jack, and it was final. His arms shook as he placed his palms firm against the floor and pushed up to a sitting position. The room around him was gray, with a window high on the wall to his right. Snyder stood above him, and three other men stood off to the side, two flanking a door and one beside the other. Jack recognized the single as he sneered at him; Oscar, who antagonized Jack during every waking moment with Snyder, along with his brother, Morris. Who, Jack noted, was currently absent. “Where’s Davey?” he asked, glaring at Snyder. “Is he okay?” “You’ll see,” the man answered cryptically. Jack nearly launched himself at his old boss. “I’ll see? I’ll see? You pieces of shit have the nerve to break into my home and use my own boyfriend as a hostage to get me to rejoin your hell society, and I don’t even get consolation? Consider this an appraisal, Snyder. You’re a shit boss.” Snyder clucked. “Language! My, you really have strayed far.” Scowling, Jack pulled his legs to his chest. “I’m not doing anything until I see Davey and make sure for myself he’s all right.” “As I imagined. He is being brought to us as we speak.” “That’s comforting,” Jack spat. Snyder just hummed pleasantly, tugged on the collars of his jacket, and left the room. Fuck you, Jack thought again, but kept it in his head as he stayed put, seething. A minute passed, and then another, and Jack was getting ready to get up and punch something and then go look for Davey himself, no matter the consequences, when the door to his left slid open. And Davey was there. Jack felt the fury melt off him as they connected eyes. “You idiot,” Davey said, as Jack said, “Davey.” Davey was pushed forward and Jack stumbled to his feet to receive his boyfriend, pulling them both down to the ground and holding him tight. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “It was the only way, the only way I knew you’d be safe. I couldn’t let him do anything to you. You mean too much to me, goddammit, me and Crutchie, we’d do anything for you, and I will never regret this for the rest of my life.” The door flew open again. Davey had been mumbling, his lips moving into Jack’s shoulder, and Jack heard a final “don’t do this, please,” as the object of Jack’s complete and utter hatred returned to the room. He tightened his embrace on Davey, as if anything less would make Davey slip through his arms and once again get caught up in some sort of twisted plan of Snyder’s. Snyder took a step forward and Jack audibly growled. “Stay away from him.” “Dear boy, I thought I had taught you some manners.” Davey shifted against Jack, and Jack let himself run his hands up and down Davey’s bare arms, hatred curling in his stomach as he felt the coarse rope at the end of Davey’s wrists. “Fuck. You.” “I’ll have to break the disrespect out of you,” Snyder said chidingly. “That’s why you’re here, correct?” “You know why I’m here. I’m here because you took my boyfriend and said the only way to get him back was to come back.” “Exactly. You came back.” The weight of the situation struck Jack hard and without remorse. If he had been a bit later, if he hadn’t come at all- “Let him go,” he said, and this time it was less angry and more resigned. If Snyder wanted him back, fine. As long as it was only him. “Let him go, and don’t ever go near him again.” “That was our deal, was it not?” In response, Davey curled into Jack even more. Jack felt Davey’s heartbeat on his shoulder. He wasn’t losing it. “Now.” “You don’t even want to say your goodbyes? My, this agency you’ve been with has no class, doesn’t it?” Say your goodbyes. Panic clawed at Jack’s throat. Davey was always first and foremost, his safety especially- saying goodbye would make it worse. Davey would know, always, that Jack loved him. “Now, okay? Get him out of here and back home, or else-” “Now, now, dear boy,” Snyder interrupted. “Gentlemen.” Two of the silent men on either side of the room moved forward and grabbed Davey, one on each arm, hauling him up and away from Jack. Jack managed to brush a final kiss against Davey’s forehead, raising himself up on his knees just long enough to catch him. Davey’s mumbling grew louder, coming as a steady stream of “no” as they locked eyes, the space between them growing with every forced step back, and the ocean was roaring in Jack’s ears- A shot sounded. Jack was on his feet yelling before he realized what had happened. A hand was on his shoulder, firmly holding him in place as Davey blinked once, took in Jack’s face, and collapsed to the floor. Snyder held a small gold pistol in his hand, smirking. “We had a deal.” Jack took in a shaking breath, voice pitched high and uneasy. “You said you wouldn’t hurt him.” “I believe my note said that he would go home if you came to me, nothing about the condition he’d be in.” There was a self-satisfied grin growing on Snyder’s face. “I’d suggest you be good and shut up before I shoot him again.” Jack paled. The stain on Davey’s shirt, blood, was darkening, and he didn’t want to think about what would happen if Davey didn’t get tended to in time. He watched as the brothers dragged his unresponsive boyfriend out the door, and said nothing. “Good,” Snyder smiled. “Let’s see what else you can remember.” The person holding Jack’s shoulder let go and exited, leaving him and the boss alone. –

For some unknown reason, at four in the morning, Crutchie caught Katherine on the way down the stairs holding her fifth cup of coffee and looking absolutely dead to the world. “Wait,” she said, when he jumped out of the way and told her, tripping over his words, what had happened. “So it’s more than likely either Jack or Davey.” “I’m almost certain.” Katherine sighed and took a long drink of coffee. “I’ll go get my keys. You are not taking a taxi at four in the morning. I’ll be quick,” she added, at Crutchie’s face. “I’m only on the third floor.” She dropped her cup into Crutchie’s hands and turned around, a decidedly petulant look on her face as she disappeared back up the stairs. Crutchie leaned against the wall and tried not to think about who they were going to see. I think he’s been shot, the person on the line had said. He’s bleeding really bad. It could be Davey, or it could be Jack, or it could be someone else, or Jack, or Davey- True to her word, Kath reappeared quickly, snapping Crutchie  out of his reverie. All traces of exhaustion were evident on both as they left the building, but neither felt tired anymore. This was as real as it could get, and that thought alone erased any sense of weariness and replaced it with erratic heartbeats and panic. The drive to the hospital felt like both the slowest and the fastest ten minutes of Crutchie’s life. –

Jack drifted. He ached all over, dull pains in some places and sharp, stabbing pains in others. It was tough to remember where he was or what day it was. What day was it? It scared him, not knowing. But he was tired. He closed his eyes, and drifted. – Out the window, there was complete darkness. The flashing lights of cars were the only indication that Crutchie was not, in fact, looking at a painted window or a dark mirror with his face reflecting back. He looked like a mess. He felt like one too; having confirmed that the person brought in was, in fact, Davey, he’d spent the next hour worrying before finally sitting down to rest his leg. It had been pulsing more than usual, sending bolts of pain shooting up his side, and it reminded him to sit down once in a while so he didn’t also get admitted into the hospital. Kath was at the front desk somewhere, trying to use her badge and way with words to coerce the staff into letting them into Davey’s room early. At this point, Crutchie wasn’t sure what they could be arguing about, as it had come upon the hour-and-a-half mark, but he couldn’t bring himself to worry too much. She could handle herself better than anyone, and Snyder’s people had more sense than to do anything in a public area. Besides, all he wanted was Jack, and he had Jack now. Goddamnit. She came back half an hour later, a satisfied look on her face, and sat down beside Crutchie, pressing a verification card into his hand. “Technically, we have higher credentials than anybody in this place, and we’re also technically required access to any government property or similar.” Crutchie sidelined a look at her. “Government property?” “Legal talk, it got us in.” She shrugged. “Nobody ever thinks about it like that, not even the people who create the contracts.” “They better not,” he muttered, and concentrated again on his leg. The sun rose quickly after that. The sky became progressively brighter and Crutchie watched as cars began to populate the lot, and then as a morning flow of visitors passed through the lobby. Finally, Katherine stood up, checked her phone, and said, “Let’s go.” Obviously, she knew where she was going, and Crutchie followed her through the hospital without difficulty. They came to a room on the third floor, through a maze of hallways, and Katherine knocked once before shoving the door open. A man in a white coat intercepted Katherine right a she walked in the door. Crutchie pushed past them both as they argued, something about not being ready, and headed straight for Davey’s bed. Davey was asleep. There was a ventilator in his mouth and a heart monitor provided an unsteady beep, something that caused Crutchie’s heart to do the same. Coppery red coloured the visible bandage on Davey’s left shoulder. Crutchie shuffled to his right and sat down in the seat that had been dragged away, tuning out the arguing and grabbing Davey’s hand. “I’m sorry,” he whispered quietly. “But I’m glad it’s not worse. You’re safe now.” He rubbed his thumb across Davey’s hand, and he swore the heart monitor grew steadier. The sudden silence made him look up to see both Katherine and the doctor staring at him. “What?” “You have a point,” the doctor said to Katherine, reluctantly. “I’ll allow it. But if anything arises, we need everyone out.” “I can live with that,” Crutchie said, and turned his attention back to Davey. Kath resumed her hushed conversation with the doctor. Davey breathed. The doctor left soon after, and Katherine leaned against the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb anything. “They’re finished. They just wanted to watch him for a little bit longer to make sure they got everything, but we can do that. They were just being pricks.” Crutchie smiled. “Thanks,” he said, and meant it. There was a pause. “Why were you both watching me?” Katherine laughed. “I told him that this was better for everyone, and to look at you and Davey before saying anything else.” “Smart.” Crutchie stayed with Davey until the window grew dark again and the nurses made their final rounds. They found him asleep, pillowing his head with his arms, one hand still holding Davey’s. –

Crutchie had made two trips back to the apartment in the past two weeks. The first was to clean up, and Kath came by to help sweep up the glass and put everything back in order. The second trip was to gather whatever he could, and then Crutchie split his time solely between visiting Davey and finding Jack. Race had found him once in his office, Dangerously close to falling off his chair after inadvertently falling asleep, and made him take a real nap on one of the couches outside their offices. (He’ll never admit it, but it did help Crutchie think.) Crutchie had grabbed Davey’s copy of Harry Potter from the bedside table and kept it with him wherever he went, and he had began to read to Davey as he slept. Davey was supposed to be waking up soon, he had been told, and Crutchie  figured the least he could do was give Davey something to think about. He was partway through the ninth chapter when he felt a shuffle on the bed. A wave of relief washed through him as he continued to read, smiling a bit as he let Davey wake up comfortably and on his own time. And then- Davey was curling in on himself, crying out, and everything seemed to explode as Crutchie dropped the book and hammered on the button for the nurses. Maybe they didn’t get everything, maybe there was something overlooked, all Crutchie knew was that Davey was panicking and he was panicking and a nurse came in and all he could get out was the obvious; that Davey was in pain and something was wrong. The nurse, calming and level, adjusted the morphine, and both Davey and Crutchie could breathe again. “Are you okay?” He asked, once the nurse was gone. It wasn’t what he wanted to say, but it worked just as well. Davey nodded. “Yeah. Now.” Time to rip off the bandage. Crutchie took a deep breath and asked, “What about Jack?” Davey’s face fell and he shook his head. A wave of emotion threatened to knock Crutchie back into the chair, but he held on a moment longer, holding the bedrail with white knuckles.

“You should rest.” He sat down with a thump and picked up the book, thumbing through it until he found his place. With tears beginning to stain his cheeks, he stretched out his hand, gripped Davey’s with everything he had, and continued to read. –

Davey was discharged a few weeks later, with strict instructions not to go out into the field until official clearance was given by the agency’s doctor. Even so, it took almost two months of mindless muscle-building exercises for Davey to get himself back to something resembling normal. It wasn’t hard to assemble a team to find Jack. The agency was more like a giant family than anything, and nobody was surprised when most people were ready to drop whatever projects they were working on to devote their skills to the search. Race ended up leading the search, being one of the agency’s best in the affectionately dubbed “Q Branch” (by Jack, of course). Katherine seemed to live in her office now, and her work clothes had slowly transitioned from neatly pressed dress shirts to paint-stained hoodies, but her voice could be heard through all hours of the night chipper as ever as she went through every contact and connection she had. But as Davey recovered, everybody else was beginning to fall. Because somehow, Snyder had dropped off the face of the Earth, and he had taken Jack with him. Crutchie and Davey helped out as much as they could. Often times Davey would be sitting with Katherine, crossing out names and writing notes as they came. Crutchie alternated between Race’s office, where he would sit on the extra chair and watch the screens, and in the laboratories where he’d join Blink and Spot in devising plan upon plan for when Jack was found. He enjoyed those most, simply because there was no “if”. It was always “when we find Jack” and “this is how we’ll do it” and there was no room for argument. Jack was coming home. Except two months turned into three, turned into six, and still they were no further along in finding Jack or Snyder. The vigor with which they had begun the search was receding, leaving tired agents chasing single-word leads that led nowhere. Crutchie and Davey didn’t return to the apartment. For Davey, it was full of dark corners and the sound of gunshots ringing in his ears, and he found that being alone brought back the struggle that he had ultimately lost. He slept in a new pull-out bed in Crutchie’s office. Crutchie frequently joined. Most nights, though, they’d take the elevator up to the seventh floor and climb the stairs to the roof, where the rarely-used helipad had turned into a refuge from what could sometimes get overwhelming. Though the path from the wide pad to the inside door was untouched, a corner of the roof had been filled with comfortable stools and paint-splattered tarps and even a small lamp that only worked in the summertime. They would sit along the ledge and watch the colours of the sky as though Jack was right there with them, and they’d fall asleep using drop cloths as blankets, and they’d make sure everything was right as they found it so Jack didn’t come home to a mess. (If Jack ever came home.) (Home.) Until one night, nearing the eight month mark, one of Race’s monitors made a sound. – Davey found Katherine in the gym that night, playing workout music so loud that he could barely hear his own thoughts and beating on a sandbag. Without speaking, he sat down on the weight bench, and watched as she threw punch after punch with increasing frustration. When she started yelling, he said, “Katherine.” She jumped back, grabbing for the straps of her gloves. “I didn’t hear you come down.” Davey crossed the room and turned the volume down on the speakers. “I didn’t think you would. Do you want company?” “I’d like that.” Katherine took off her gloves and threw them to the wall. It was far past working hours, and the lights above the sandbag and mats were the only lights still on. Davey stood surrounded in shadow. She took a long while to speak. “I passed you an hour ago on my way down and you were in the same position as you were this morning. Have you eaten yet?” Davey watched her skeptically. “Is this why you were destroying all of the agency’s available sandbags?” “No!” Surprised, Katherine let out a small giggle. “No, I’m just wondering. You tend not to eat when you’re working hard.” “I stole a sandwich before I came down here,” Davey told her. “Crutchie’s usually caught up in his own stuff too. Jack’s the one who makes sure both of us eat.” “Me too, honestly,” she said with a sigh. “He really takes care of everyone here. It’s a wonder this place hasn’t fallen apart without him.” “It’s pretty close.” They sat in the dark. The silence was nearly bursting with all the things they wanted to say, but every word was choked down. The clock in the corner of the room passed midnight. The only audible sound was Davey’s rapidly increasing breaths. “I miss him,” Davey said. “I know,” Katherine replied. “Me too.” “I wish he didn’t do it.” “You know he didn’t consider that an option.” Davey stood abruptly. “Why’d he have to be so damn protective all the time? Why’d he have to love everybody so much? If he had just stayed back, if he had thought this through, maybe I would’ve been a little roughed up. Maybe I wouldn’t be as great as I am now. But he’d still be here, holding everyone together. God knows he’s the one who does that. Not me, and he still did it for me. Why?” Katherine followed suit, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Because you’re Davey, and he loves you.” “What if I don’t want him to, if this is what’s going to happen?” Davey yelled, pushing away from Katherine and hitting the sandbag with a bare fist. His heart was hitting his throat now, growing out of control, spiraling up through his chest and bursting out of his body. He couldn’t count his breaths, so he hit the bag and counted that. Counted, counted, pounding- “Davey,” Katherine said, somewhere above the water. He heard scattered words, picked out “call Crutchie”, and nodded. His hand throbbed. He was on the ground. How about that, he observed. Then Kath’s voice broke the surface again, and everything slowly filtered in again. “…on his way,” she was saying. She was holding his right hand, where the knuckles were red and bursting from the impact of the punches. “He told me to keep talking to you. That’s what I’m doing. Jesus, Davey, I thought I taught you to use gloves.” “Didn’t want to go get them,” he croaked. She looked at him in surprise, and then smiled, comforting and clear. “The anger does that sometimes.” He shuffled, pushing his legs underneath him, and hissed when Katherine’s fingers brushed against his knuckles. Next to her was the small medical kit kept in the gym, and a roll of gauze sat forgotten on top. He shifted a gaze to her. “Thanks.” “Don’t mention it,” she replied, equally quiet. She watched as he wrapped his hand, easily even with only one hand, and they waited for the telltale click of Crutchie coming down the hallway. Instead, they heard the click of the building intercom, and Race saying, “You guys had better get up here quick.” –

Was it important? Definitely. There was no question about it. Race wouldn’t use the intercom otherwise. But Spot was in the middle of making coffee, so that’s what he did. Davey, Katherine, and Crutchie were already in Race’s office when he came in, holding two steaming mugs of dark coffee. He watched them all as they watched him, took a sip from one mug, and placed the other on Race’s desk. “Took your sweet time,” Race said, finally. “Got your coffee, dipshit,” Spot responded. “You’re an ass.” “You bet I am.” Davey cleared his throat. “Race, what’s up?” The change in the technician’s disposition was immediate. He swirled around in the chair and pointed to one of the monitors on the wall. “So I managed to hack into Jack’s computer early on, right? And I found this file in deep cover a while later that has basically everything you’d ever need to know about Snyder. Except when I went through it the first time, nothing helped.” With blurred fingers, he brought up two more windows on the monitor. “I got a notification today. There was some activity at this one place we had decided wasn’t relevant, and it opened up a whole whack of stuff that had been happening under the radar. So I looked further, and I found this.” On the screen was a schedule, along with a large group of pictures. Each depicted a different person, in an area noted on the schedule, with a bag of some sort. “Messengers,” Race explained. “The code didn’t pick them up ‘cause there’s nothing weird about them on their own, and we didn’t pick them up ‘cause they’re too sporadic, too far apart. But there’s a connection, we just realized this morning. Specs and I put this together.” Anticipation gripped everyone in the room. “So this means-” “We have a trail,” he confirmed. “And with a trail, we can find Jack.” Katherine put a hand to her mouth. Crutchie slumped against the wall, eyes rimmed with wetness, holding onto Davey’s hand like a lifeline. We can find Jack. “It’ll take a bit of work, but we finally have something to base it off of,” he continued, pausing to take a long sip of coffee. “And we’ll get our cowboy back.” At once, a sigh swept over the entire room. All the hope that had slowly dwindled throughout the search returned in a swell of relief. It had been eight months of nothing, and now finding this was the one saving grace within all of the suffocating darkness that had fallen over the agency. It was a start, and it was all they needed. The evidence, there on the screen, was the proof that things would get better. Davey was openly crying. Crutchie rubbed circles into the back of his hand, trying to ignore the threat of tears spilling out of his own eyes. “Maybe you’ll start wearing actual clothes again, Kath,” he joked instead. Katherine scoffed. “Maybe it’s time for a change in the dress code. These are comfortable.” “You’re a diplomat.” “Doesn’t mean I can’t live my life,” she responded, grinning. “Oh my God, Jack is going to have a field day with this. As far as I know, he’s not aware I even own sweatpants.” At the thought, Race burst out laughing, followed by Davey and Crutchie, and soon even Spot was giving a reluctant chuckle. It was sleep-starved, relieved, and definitely tinged with a drunken sort of insanity, but it was real. For once, something was going to be okay. –

The week following, everyone was working harder than ever. The excitement was alive in all areas of the building, each working in their own way to reach the goal that had been set so many months ago. They knew, now, that they could do it. And they did. This time, it was Buttons who figured it out, after keeping track of the messengers almost obsessively. There was something about to happen. People were bringing more and more supplies underground, stocking up, and it was becoming more and more certain that Jack’s return would come soon. They organized a mission. A location and date had been caught by one of the Q-agents. The plan was this: - Davey would go in, having been cleared for field work over two months ago. - Crutchie would be on comms. It was an easy choice. - They would wait until Snyder’s agents showed up. Davey would go through them until he found Jack. He would use some form of tranquilizer, probably developed by the med team, and use it to bring Jack home. Hopefully there would be no complications, and it would work. Crutchie bought a new wheely chair for the mission. It was smooth and comfortable, and perfect for chair races. Spot tested it once, on his break, and disappeared up to Race’s office, probably to convince him to get a better chair. Crutchie deemed it perfect. (The race that had broken Crutchie’s chair had been far from the only one. Often times people would come out of their rooms to watch as the two men flew down the hallway on office chairs. Sometimes there were bets.) Spot and Mush were spending most of their time in the lab, personalizing the standard tranq formula for Jack. Davey prepped as much as he could for the mission, reading over every possible file the agency had on the building, Snyder, and everything in between. There was, of course, was the taboo topic of exactly what would happen if Jack wasn’t in a condition to come back. Or, god forbid, if he wasn’t there at all. The day before the mission was set to go, there was a room in the medical labs below the agency full to the brim with whatever supplies the med team could get their hands on. There were backup vehicles as needed on the mission. Contingency plans had been set. All the stops had been pulled out, and it was time to go. We’ll get our cowboy back. – Jack dreamed, occasionally. The dreams were few and far between, and were usually as strange and subhuman as fever dreams were. Sporadically, he dreamed about Davey and Crutchie and the Before. Those were both the best and the worst dreams. The best, because he saw their faces, watched and felt as they embraced him with relief and joy and love, and although it wasn’t real it always felt so right. Like he belonged right there in their arms. The worst, because every time the dream came, it went just as quick: in a pop that left him with wet cheeks and just the glimpse of a life he had sacrificed. Because every time, he believed that somehow, he was safe. Because every time, he woke up back in the unknown. He tried not to associate them with the dreams. It wasn’t fair to them, wasn’t fair to their memories. It wasn’t fair that the last time he’d see them would be in a fragmented reality created only by his mind. (It wasn’t fair that his interactions with either of his boyfriends had ended in such a way, but life wasn’t fair anyway.) (Could he even still consider them his boyfriends?) Jack dreamed, and he tried not to be disappointed when he woke up. –

“Alright, Davey, you’re clear to go whenever.” Crutchie’s voice floated out of the earpiece. “They’re spanning the building, covering a single person in the middle, by the data room. Betcha it’s just who we’re looking for.” Davey snorted. “Betting is Race’s forte, not mine. But you’re probably right.” Crutchie’s tone was warm as he replied, “I’m always right. That’s why you love me.” “Damn right it is.” Davey checked the cartridge on his gun. It was full of double-strength tranq bullets, something that Spot had given him not fifteen minutes before Davey headed out for good. (“I’m not mad,” Spot said. “Just a little pissed.” “That’s basically the same thing.” “Yeah. Well. If he puts up a fight, this’ll knock him out real quick.” “And?” “And what?” “There’s always an and with you, Spot.” “He might be out for a while.” Spot shrugged. “But it’ll help in the long run, if he’s got an injury then he won’t be stubbornly aggravating it like he stubbornly aggravates everyone else.”) Davey teased that Spot would be glad to have Jack back. Spot had denied any semblance of emotion, but after he left, Crutchie texted him a picture of him and Race and a bottle of scotch in the break room with the caption “drinking for jack’s safety”. Then, “spot’s gonna kill me if he finds out I was listening”. Davey took that as good luck, and laughed at Crutchie as soon as he appeared in his ear. He fiddled with a lock now, on the main floor of the building, and basing his success off the hope that Snyder’s team had disabled all the alarms in the building and not just the floor they covered. His hands were not shaking. His heart was steady. Faced with the possibility of Jack, all Davey could be was calm. That’s the damn influence you have on me, Kelly, he thought, slipping silently through the doorway and heading to the stairwell. The occupied data room was on the third floor, down a hallway after exiting the stairwell and to the right. It was dark, but Davey had Crutchie and the light of the moon to guide him. “My boyfriend radar is tingling,” he told Crutchie  quietly, in a last-ditch attempt at humor. Crutchie  laughed. It sounded forced, a bit sad, but he took what he could get. And, he was in the room, and he managed to hit all the guards on his first try despite the deep-seated fear that one of them was actually Jack. The person at the computer ducked. Davey blinked at the shadow. It looked like someone he knew, and he knew now that it had to be- Jack stared at him from beside a desk. He looked scared. He was a lot thinner than Davey remembered, with harsh features and dark circles beneath his eyes. There was a cut across his cheekbone, still raw and thick. All Davey felt was anger. Anger at Snyder for forcing Jack into this shell of himself (the Jack he knew would never be scared of him, never) and anger at himself for letting this happen. Jack wasn’t supposed to be like this, he wasn’t supposed to be scared, he was supposed to be the one calming Davey’s anxiety and not the other way around. Not that Davey was doing that, at the moment. He held the gun up, stoic, and fired. Maybe when Jack woke up, he’d be okay. Davey closed his eyes after firing. He didn’t want to see Jack fall. –

Jack did not dream. He did not drift. He was suspended in time, in a black hole of absolutely nothing, and then he heard voices. “He said it would take a while to wear off. Up to a month, I thought I told you?” “You did. I just miss the idiot.” Jack tried to scramble back into the dark expanse of nothingness. It would be better, god, anything would be better than having this happiness once more ripped away from him. It felt so real. (It was never real.) His mind stubbornly stayed in the present, listening, as the voices of his boyfriends once more appeared. “At least he’s safe no-” He couldn’t take it. It felt so real, too real, a pipe dream, something that was so far away Jack could only think about what would happen. It wasn’t true. It was never true. He was going to wake up soon, cold and afraid, and pretend like he didn’t get these dreams on a nightly basis. Pretend like he didn’t get his heart shattered every morning. “Jack?” God, it was beautiful. Jack wanted to give in, to answer. Yet- “Jack, please,” said someone else. Yet he wasn’t cold. He felt warm, slightly achy, and less afraid. Taking a chance would hurt, but he had to hear the voices. “Can you open your eyes?” No. No. He conveyed that. Open his eyes and the dream would be lost, open his eyes and Davey and Crutchie would be swept away, particle by particle, until there was nothing left but a ratty, tear-stained pillow and a cold iron bed frame. “Please?” No. “Why?” asked the Davey-voice, and oh, that was touch. Touch rarely came in his dreams, but when it did, Jack savored what he could get. It was the nicest treatment he’d had in months. No one else had touched him with anything less than a sting. “Can you tell us why?” “Might not be real.” His mouth was moving before he even realized it, voicing the fear he had felt since the very beginning of the dreams, and still felt even as it came true every time. Acknowledging the dream meant it would be all the worse when it disappeared, but it was worth it. It was always worth it. Then, more touch. Ow. And someone was laughing, sweet and high, Crutchie, and somewhere Jack believed that it wasn’t just a dream this time. It felt so real. Too real. Real enough to be- “Please be real,” Jack mumbled, and opened his eyes. They didn’t melt away. There was no sound of pouring sand as Davey and Crutchie disintegrated into nothing. They stood, strong as ever, and looking as if their entire world had begun spinning the moment Jack woke up. God, it was real. “Hi,” he whispered, and managed to puff out a laugh when both of his boyfriends repeated it simultaneously. Something still ached, down in his stomach and spreading toward his back. But it was okay, because he was there, he was there and safe and with the real, alive people he had dreamed so much about. “Missed you.” Because he did. He missed them so much that the last few months had been spent frustratingly trying to replicate the feeling of Davey’s fingers combing gently through his hair or the way Crutchie would rub his back after a long day. He missed them so much it hurt, but now that they were here, nothing hurt anymore. “Thought I’d never see you again.” Because it was true, he had believed that Snyder would take away his only happiness and leave him with the memory of Davey’s shocked face and Crutchie’s panicked voice. He had believed that he wouldn’t make it out. He had been okay with that. God, he missed that smile, he missed holding their hands. Crutchie was talking, and then Davey was, quickly beginning to ramble because what better to do than talk? It was proof Jack needed that everything was right. When he gathered enough strength, he propped himself and managed to scoot to a semi-sitting position. “I love you two,” he said, putting more meaning behind the words than he thought he’d ever done before. “Really. I know I don’t say it enough, but I do.” And he didn’t even need to get an answer to know that it was reciprocated in full force. The way they watched him- something he recognized solely from being the one watching them like they hung the stars- that was answer enough for him. (Of course, they answered anyway, and then somehow they all squished into Jack’s hospital bed and everything was perfect.) –

Everything was perfect for about a week. Except the first person who saw Jack walk in the agency doors after he’d been discharged was Spot, who was managing to hold two cups of coffee and an energy drink, and when Spot almost dropped all of them and stalked toward Jack, something was obviously wrong. “You’re a big fucking idiot, Kelly,” he hissed. “How could you even think about-” He jabbed a finger into Jack’s chest and Jack flinched. Jack was looking at him with wide eyes, and Spot immediately froze. “Oh,” he said quietly. They stared at each other, then Spot swirled around, picked up the myriad of drinks, and disappeared through the stairwell doors. “Jack?” Crutchie asked, and Jack was anchoring himself against the wall and running a hand down the side of his face. “I can’t do this,” he mumbled. “I can’t. I just- I’ll get overwhelmed. Snyder, he- he-” “It’s all right if you need time,” Davey said softly, appearing behind Crutchie’s shoulder. “We understand. I can’t imagine what it was like, god, eight months- whatever we can do, Jack, just tell us.” “I don’t know,” Jack told them truthfully. “I don’t know what’ll happen. I need space, I guess. Nobody yelling at me. Nobody telling me I’m-” he bit off the word with a swallow. “Just, try not to tell them too much. I don’t want everyone thinkin’ I’m a swan or something.” He didn’t want to hear an answer, so he swept them both into a hug before they could say anything. “I’ll be in my office.” – They bought a new apartment. The old apartment was plagued with bad memories. Nobody had stepped foot in it in months, and it was evident that no one quite wanted to. The paint covering the bullet holes in the bedroom didn’t exactly match the wall colour, and wood chips from the coffee table kept showing up no matter how many times the living room was vacuumed. Besides that, they needed somewhere off the record, so nothing could ever lead Snyder to a repeat performance. (They had tried to find Snyder after rescuing Jack, but he had disappeared long before. Nothing could lift their spirits the day they realized that. It took away much of the closure Jack thought he had.) Jack was constantly looking over his shoulder. He held Davey’s hand a lot more, sometimes with a grip so crushing Davey felt like his hand was going to break, but Davey never complained. He’d discovered that when Jack did that, something in the room was bothering him, so he tried his best to help them both escape. It was an agreement that never had to be spoken. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, Jack would scream. He didn’t always elaborate on the nightmares, but he’d often wake up shaking and wrap himself around Davey and Crutchie. They were his constant, the ones he could depend on to whisper assurances and carefully wipe tears away when the nightmares were too much to handle. He needed them there, to convince himself that they were all okay. They slept with the light on. It helped ground Jack when he woke up, reminding him that he was safe and not back there. He screamed less as time went on. –

“Spot,” Jack said after a long while, cornering the smaller man in the break room. “You’ve been avoiding me.” It was true, in a sense: there had been only careful, one- or two-word conversations between the two, nothing remotely close to the teasing banter that used to fill the halls whenever they talked. Spot was stiffer, skirting around Jack whenever possible, spending more time in the lab and clocking out later than usual. “Maybe,” Spot said, not meeting Jack’s gaze. “Why?” “None of your damn business.” Jack caught his arm as he tried to slip away, and held tight until Spot sighed and turned back to him. “I know it is. What’s wrong?” They stood in silence for a long while. Spot opened his mouth and closed it again, swallowing dryly. “Look,” he began, and then stopped. “I- when you- goddamnit, Jack, I know I’m abrasive, but I don’t want you to be scared of me.” Oh. Understanding flashed in Jack’s eyes, and Spot barreled on. “And I know that deep down, it shouldn’t matter, we’ve been friends for a long time, but you know how I get. I yell. A lot. I’m pissed ninety percent of the time. And if it’s bad for you, then it’s on me to be the one to fix it.” He attempted to duck under Jack’s arm, but Jack held him firmly in place. “Listen, I’m not going to tell you that it’s nothing because it’s not nothing. I’m telling you that I’m working on it. But if you keep avoiding me I’ll never know when it gets better. It’s hard, knowing that wherever I go he could be there, watching, but sheltering me isn’t gonna do shit.” Spot said nothing. Jack blinked. “And- I miss it. The old Spot.” Slowly, a grin spread across Spot’s face, and he batted Jack’s hand off his arm easily. “Jacky, I think that’s the sweetest thing you’ve said to anyone other than your asshole boyfriends.” He didn’t miss the flash of pain in Jack’s eyes, but he patted his arm and left the break room, and Jack was thankful. (When he passed Race’s office later that day, he told him to relay the message “mine aren’t, but yours is” to Spot, with no context. Two hours later, a paper airplane appeared on his desk with FUCK YOU HE’S GREAT written in big block letters, and Jack laughed out loud.) – “Okay, everything seems to be goin’ good so far,” Race said joyfully in Jack’s ear. “In fact, we might be able to-” He was interrupted by the sound of a door slamming open, and swore. “Christ, Davey, thought I told you to knock during missions.” “It’s important,” Davey said in the background. Jack felt himself go stiff. This was exactly like before, what had happened so long ago- long enough for the scars to scab over, long enough for the pains to fade- and if this was anything like last time, he was going to break down. “Jack?” Davey asked. Jack gulped down a rising suspicion. “Here,” he replied cautiously. Davey didn’t sound scared. He sounded rushed, sure, but it wasn’t a type of rush that comes from terror. It was more… excited. Excited? “We were gonna wait ‘till you got back, but there’s kind of a group in the conference room close to fighting- anyway, Crutchie may have- well, he may have found an untagged puppy outside the building earlier today and the shelter we went to may have asked if we could find a home for it.” Faintly, Jack heard Race say “why wasn’t I informed of this?”, and laughed.

“And, uh, we’ve got a new apartment that’s plenty good in keeping another body, even if said other body is currently a dog that was found outside our work building. Crutchie’s kinda already taken a liking to her too, honestly. She’s really sweet.”

Jack kept his eyes trained on the ceiling. This was momentous, like getting a child- god knows Jack already had to deal with twelve coworkers on any given day- but there was a proud feeling in Jack’s stomach. He felt ready.

“Is it okay with you?” Davey repeated.

“If it’s okay with you guys,” Jack answered, feeling higher than he had in months. “I’d love it.”

Davey hissed a small victory cry that didn’t go unnoticed, and if that wasn’t the greatest thing Jack had heard then he’d be lying. “Thanks, Jack. Have fun with the rest of your mission. Love you.”

“Love you too,” Jack told his boyfriend, but Davey was already gone, closing the door gently at Race’s request and probably running back to the conference room.

They named her Bailey, and she was loud and tended to pee in the closet where the shoes were, but she was loved so much that it didn’t matter. When nights got tough, she’d maneuver her way onto the bed and lay her head on Jack’s chest and stretch out between him and whoever was on his right side that night, and they’d wake up to her curled comfortably in the blankets with the rest of them.

Jack rarely screamed anymore.

If he did, he had two boyfriends and a quickly growing puppy.

He felt pretty okay.