#next is workin’ theys

[fine-as-duck]

But what if we fell in love on the football field but for girls?

#starkid #workin boys #workin’ boys #workin’ boys spoilers #workin’ girls #next is workin’ theys

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

May Visitation - A Little Chat

“Heeyy, there’s that handsome-and-or-beautiful face I was hopin’ to see! Didn’t think youse would make it. It’s real good to see youse, y’know that? So… how’s things? All goin’ good out there?”

“Huh... Really? That sounds like quite a pickle. Can’t say I knows much ‘bout what to do, but you wanna talk ‘bout it?”

“Ah, shit… I’m real sorry you’ve had all them stresses in youse’s life right now. I know things can be super shitty but look at youse! Makin’ it this far. Youse even hauled your ass out here to see little ol’ me!”

“Hey. Don’t gimme that look, an’ don’t call me a baby again. My point is that despite all that, you made youself go out an’ do somethin’. I’m proud of you for that. An’ did y’know? This is th’ seventh visitation since youse crashed in with that weird guy youse was hangin’ ‘round with. Now I think ‘bout it Bam-Bam says he thought he seen some guy sneakin’ out with a funny striped hat a few weeks back, so I guess they’s doin’ okay?”

“Who, me? Well, y’know… Same shit, different day… That ain’t a good answer, eh? Lucky me, do I got a little tale for youse! It was Tiny’s birthday last week, see. But they don’t like no big fuss of a thing. Which is fine! Some folks don’t like parties. But we’s a family here, an’ we wasn’t gonna let it slide. Durin’ rec time, myself and some of the others didn’t go out. Instead, we gots workin’ on a little card that everyone in th’ gang signed. Once that was done, Bam-Bam put it under Tiny’s pillow for me. Sure, I got a slap th’ next day ‘cause Tiny knew it was my idea, but when youse finally find a family youse care ‘bout, even if theys ain’t related by blood, it’s worth it to catch a little smile. Y’know what I mean?”

“Ah! Youse is a sneaky one, gettin’ me to ramble on like that! But it sounds like youse got someone callin’ youse, so I’d best letcha deal with that. Come back soon, ‘kay?” (Concept inspired by this comic!)

#yancy the prisoner #ahwm yancy #a heist with markiplier #writersofmark #yancy x reader #dramatic prisoner (Yancy) #(trying something a little different this month don't mind me) #(I don't think there's enough reason to set up an ask blog but I think the odd thing like this might be a nice change of pace #any thoughts on the matter? Would people want to see little in-character snippets like this from characters?) #(this is where being a roleplayer comes in handy. I have LOADS of icons. Between myself and my friend; we made a few hundred of Yancy :D ) #Visitation day

[oofiplier]

Guilt

Part 3 of ?

Triggers: Abuse

Tag list: @hell-or-high-waters , @oasisofgalaxies , @gemstone6 , @minaail

Sorry for the short one. Next ones pretty long tho

______________________

A week had passed. A miserable, miserable week. Yancy could hear his fellow prisoners out in the prisonyard the entire time he spent in that dark cell...their voices carried throughout the empty cells whenever they went out. He could hear their toes tapping along to the beat, rehearsing his numbers for hours on end, daily. He could hear little mistakes, just the smallest ones, and they made him smile.

"Oh, Bam Bam, that's a C on that beat, buddy!" He said softly to himself one day while holed up in the corner. It was broken with tears, and it hurt his heart, but it still made him happy. It took his mind off the dark gray walls, the cold iron bars, and the small desk in the corner that had his scratch marks in it. One for every day—he never fought here (until recently), never smoked around the guards or the other prisoners, treated everyone like his family... It was still their favorite place to throw him. After a few days out, they'd find some excuse. Some lie for the Warden to smile at.

"Well, a little birdie told me that Yancy cut in front of Jimmy at the cafeteria!"

He would smile this gruesome smile and play along. Play along while Yancy cried that they lied.

"Why, the nerve of him!" He would sneer. "I thought better of you, son. Solitary for a day!"

His words often hurt Yancy worse than the hard pats on the back as he was sent back to that cell.

It had still been a week since he had met Y/N. Since they fought him, him of all people, and won. Since they rejected a part of the prison family, and desired a part in society.

Not that Yancy could truly blame them, though. He would hear wonders about musicals and shows in New York City, the majesty of them all, from the snippets of radio he'd catch from the offices. He would hear advertisements for those nice sweaters, the kinds you'd see in the windows of high-end stores and on the covers of thick catalogues. They'd be nice to have in the winter, especially if he was in here.

Yeah, prison life is great, though. Right?

A week since Y/N. It had really gone slow, hadn't it?Was he...missing them? No! Well...maybe. He didn't know. It was the third Saturday of the month, though. Tomorrow...would be Sunday. It would be their chance. Would they take it?

"Why would they do that, for me?" Yancy thought. "Nah. Too much trouble."

Boy, was he wrong. He didn’t know that, though.

Yancy decided to take another of several naps to pass the time. Everyone wondered why he was so energetic in the evening, and this is why. When your sleep schedule's wack, you tend not to be asleep when everyone else is.

He was woken up hours later by a rap on the cell lock.

"Yancy!"

One of the guards, an older, emotional one with a gruff voice, was tapping on the metal latch to wake the prisoner from a not-so-peaceful sleep. "Murder-Slaughter says you can come out now, Yancy." Out of all the guards, this one seemed to be his favorite. He liked asking about the rehearsals and listening to accompaniments being made. "You got any new songs?"

Yancy stepped out into the bright lights of the hall and squinted at him with a smile. "Youse know it! Only a few, though. Gotta save some for later!" Once he got into the recreation room, he was met with cheers.

"Yancy's back!" One criminal cheered. Others patted him on the back and ruffled his un-gelled hair with care.

His smile was wide and there was a spring back in his step. He made sure to travel to each and every one of his cell mates, hear about their weeks and progresses, their good and bad days. "How 'ave youses been? Bam Bam, youse workin' on that C note?"

No one ever seemed to ask how he was after days of isolation. But, he didn't seem to care. After all, who would care about a person like him?

One prisoner, though, shyly tapped Yancy's tattooed forearm. He whipped around to face them, curious to see who would be so shy around him. "Oh, heya, Sparkles! There, uh, somethin' wrong?"

"Well, you remember that prisoner that beat you up last week?"

Yancy grew still, and his face fell into a sad sort of trance at the thought. "...yeah. Why?"

Jimmy the Pickle, another of Yancy's top performers, decided to cut in. "We seen 'em while we was rehearsing. They was nearby, gettin' out of their car and such, and goin' in to the offices. Tiny says she saw 'em talkin' to that real sad guard."

Yancy was still. "What would theys want with him?" He thought to himself.

"I'm sure it's nothin'," he reassured his mates. "Maybe theys just looked like that individual, Jim."

"But they beat you up, Yancy! Wouldn't you be scared if they came back?"

"I ain't scared of nothin'," he muttered as he backed against the wall. "Nothin'."

#markiplier #markiplier community #mark fischbach #markiplier egos #iplier egos #yancy #ahwm yancy #ahwm #a heist with markiplier #cap writes #guilt fic

[kylewilmont]

Throwback Thursday

Prologue My name is Kyle Wilmont.  The Chaplain said I oughta write shit down to get it out of my head  - says it’ll make me less angry all the time.  It ain’t workin’.  Every damn time I sit down either I can’t figure out how to get it out onto paper or my breaks are ended ‘cause we got more stinkin’ undead at the gates.  Them first five words was the only words on this parchment for weeks until today. I gotta admit, I feel sorry for the bastard that finds and reads this shit after I’m good and dead.  Shouldn’t be too long now.   Hell, ain’t no special or sophisticated way of puttin’ the things I got trouble sayin’ outoud.  I miss home. I miss the farm.  I miss bein’ warm, and food that ain’t salt pork and half frozen moldy bread.  I wanna see green again - the first signs of melt in the spring and the grass pokin’ up through the snow, defyin’ the winter what tried to kill it.  The red dirt ‘tween my toes in the summer, and the piles an’ piles of yellow leaves in the fall.  I don’t miss my Pa or the house I was raised in, I won’t ever miss them – but the world outside that hell hole? The peace found in the middle of field at twilight, watchin’ the day take its final breath ‘fore night smothers it in singing crickets and chirping toad.  That’s what I long for.  

Anne. Yes…Anne too.

 Everything is cold and bitter an’ full of death here. I don’t mind the killin’ when I’m doin’ it an’ its my enemies fallin’ – better’n sittin’ here freezin’ our dicks off.. Undead scream in the night in place o’ crickets.  We got blood red snow instead of naturally red dirt, and the only think yellow here are the self-righteous paladins in their armor. What a bunch of fuckin’ lemons.

 Captain Videl and Lieutenant Sales are among the number of slain today.  The Chaplain says I should pray for their souls, but what God would I pray to?  No God I’d want to worship would sit on his throne an’ watch what I seen happen here.  There ain’t no Gods --- there’s only Devils.

Kyle Wilmont Acting Captain of the 67th Cavalry Fordragon Hold, the Dragonblight Northrend Part 1 The rush of blood thundered in his ears, competing with the quick bursts being forced in and out of his lungs from anticipation.  Kyle crouched low behind the wintering oak, dirt stained rear brushing the canvas of leaves on the forest floor behind his muddy heels.  His brother called out to him on the other side of the trunk, getting louder and then soft again as he passed by the hiding spot.  It was all Kyle could do to keep from giggling, smothering the noise with his own grimy hands pressed to his mouth.  The motion broke the final string holding the straining strap of his over alls, eliciting a tiny gasp.   “Ky-le!”  The older boy cried for what felt like the hundredth time. “Ky-le! Stop messin’ around we’re gonna get in trouble.”

Pulled from his shock, Kyle unfastened the button on the front of the broken strap then tucked it into the lopsided flap over his chest.   The strain on the overalls relaxed as the boy stood, but even then his square, solid frame was in need of a larger size – the hem on the leggings barely brushed the top of his unlaced boots.  

 “KY-ULE!”  Luke whined in frustration.  He huffed and growled - watching the dry autumn leaves shatter under each stomp as he turned back the way he came, marching passed the tree again. He didn’t see the five-year-old battering ram until he got hit and bowled over. “KYLE!” The other boy merely giggled as the pair tangled in a mass of flailing limbs.

 “Get off! Get off! ----EW! KYLE! DON’T DROOL ON ME!” Luke finally managed to roll away from the bigger, younger brother.  The glare did nothing to diminish Kyle’s grin, particularly because he was watching his brother scrub the drool off his cheek.   “Why were you hiding? You’re supposed to be helping Thomas clean the barn today.”

 Kyle rolled onto his belly and pushed himself up to his feet. “I was supposed to,” He explained, not grinning so much as he was reminded of his chores. “But he said I could go play and he’d clean the barn if I distracted Pa next time Miss Glenna came ‘round so theys can sneak off.”

 Luke frowned, concern wrinkling his smooth, dirt-smudged brow – both of his brothers would be taken to the woodshed if Pa caught on.  The boy paled – Pa might think he was in on it too. “Cleanin’ the barn ain’t that bad and if you or Thomas get caught we’re all going to get it!” He warned and became frustrated again as Kyle shrugged at him like the thought of getting their hides tanned or worse wasn’t a big deal.

    “We won’t get caught!” Kyle put in optimistically. “ ‘Sides, Tommy says they’re gonna roll in the hay whatever that means.  Hay is itchy, so they wont’ be rollin’ long!”  

“You don’t know what that means.” Luke accused, staring at Kyle with hands on hips.

“No, I don’t!”  Kyle agreed, still unfazed. “And since I didn’t know what he meaned, he gonna tell me ‘bout it when I’m older!  He promised it’s fun.”  His square freckled face beams innocently up at Luke who had an idea of what the phrase meant – he groaned into his palms, disgusted and not understanding why anyone would want to do something that gross!

“Kyle, It ain’t a good idea --“ Luke started to say as he lifted his head back up from his hands, but then froze, when a distant, familiar bellow echoed through the trees. The pair swallowed hard and looked at each other with dread filled blue eyes.

 “BOYS! Get yer asses down here!” Their Pa yelled. “Kyle! Luke! Ya’ lazy little bastards still haven’t done yer chores!” Both boys whip their heads toward the sound and cringed, then look at each other again. “Sorry Luke, I-I didn’t meant to ge-get you in t-trouble too.” Teary eyes wavered against the other’s glare.  “Well, you did! And now we’re both going to get whooped!” Kyle hung his head and tried to stammer another apology, but was shoved to the ground before the words left his lips. Luke sprinted off, hoping that slowed his brother down long enough – he had to get there first.  Dejectedly, the younger boy rose, keeping his head down as he kicked at the leaves, flinching each time his shoelaces slapped against his boots. Guilt tugged at Kyle’s hammering heart for he truly had not meant for Luke to get in trouble.

  By the time Kyle reached the front lawn, Luke was already on to the ground in tears, cupping one hand over a bloody lip and hugging his middle with the other. A man every bit as tall and thick as an Orc loomed over him with a fist raised to strike him again.  The blow never fell for the golden flash of Kyle’s tousled hair caught his attention. Blood shot eyes peered through greasy strands of hair dirty blonde hair at the youngest of his sons as he stood, picking Luke up by the back of his overalls in passing. “Shut up.”  Their Pa growled down at his whimpering son. Kyle didn’t know if it was his body or the ground that shook with each footstep his father made toward him – a warm wet feeling ran down his leg. All three of the boys endured the wrath of that man, but the youngest was the easiest and most hated target.  The two eldest boys had had the buffer of their mother until they were six and thirteen, but not Kyle. Kyle’s birth resulted in the death of their mother, and a greater degree of cruelty from their father.  It fell to Luke and Thomas to protect him when they could, but one was in the barn, and the other was on the ground, leaving no shield for the terrified five-year-old.

“P-Pa…p-please.” Kyle stammered. “It…it w-was my f-fault.  Luke w-was f-fetchin’ m-me.”  The man stopped a foot away from the boy and lifted his ten-year-old son up to eye level. “That true?” He asked in a tone that left no doubt that if it was a lie, the situation would get worse.  Luke groaned, rolling his eyes to Kyle and pressing his lips into a thin line as he nodded. “Yes sir.”  He mumbled softly around his fat lip, lowering his gaze to the ground.  A hot tear rolled down his bruised cheek out of fear and guilt, glistening in the mid morning sunlight before he could stop it. Luke flinched as he felt himself being lowered and went to all fours as soon as the meaty hand released his overalls. “Git.  The pigs need feedin’.”  The man said gruffly.

Luke scrambled away, knowing better than to disobey.  Once he could safely duck behind the weathered fence, he peered over the weathered boards at his baby brother. Spinning on his heel, the boy darted off in a direction away from the pigpens, and into the woods.

“So, you startin’ to pull your brother away from his chores too? Huh? Want him t’be just as lazy as you?”  When Kyle didn’t answer and just stood there with a quivering lip, the man raged.  “Stupid little bastard!” Kyle shrank down into a defensive huddle in the dry yellowing grass. Brutish knuckles connected with the child’s arm guarding his face, “No!” He cried, clutching his numb, tingly arm.  Another blow flew for his exposed face and for a moment all Kyle saw was an explosion stars and black spots.  Pain shot up his arm as he pushed himself back up off the ground, trying desperately to blink away the blurry vision so he could find a place to hide.  Then he was back down on the ground, a fresh burst of bright lights and dark dots dancing across his eyes from a hit on the opposite side of his face.  Kyle curled up, unable to clear his head enough to run, the boy did the only thing he could for protection.

Dizziness rolled over him and several moments passed before he grasped onto the realization he was being lifted from the ground.  Pa’s face hovered inches before his own, “Yer gonna do yer chores and earn yer keep around here and if they ain’t finished ‘fore dark you ain’t getting’ no dinner.”  Each word slammed into Kyle just as heavily as those fists with the nauseating stench of booze and bile on his Pa’s hot breath.   The boy could only nod his agreement, too scared to speak – a bloody bubble popped on his lips instead, turning into a heavy droplet that rolled down his little chin.  

An unsolicited roar – a word he’d never remember - blasted Kyle’s hair back - his arms were suddenly released but instead of falling down, he was sailing sideways into a near by tree, crashing into it with a hard crunch.  By the time Kyle was able to force air back into his lungs and pry at least one of his eyes open, his Pa was gone.  Kyle knew where the man was. It was the same place he always went after a night of drinking and gambling in the Lakeshire tavern.

The brother kneeled in the dirt next to Kyle and rubs his shoulder to comfort the little boy. “Come on now, stop crying.” Luke says in a sympathetic tone. Kyle sucks in another deep breath and kills his sobs only to start quietly whimpering instead. “Let me see; look at me.” He reaches out and places a hand under his brother’s chin to turn his face towards him. Kyle had a dark bruise already forming across his cheek and his right eye was starting to swell shut. Luke knew there would be some bruising on his arms too with the imprint of those large fingers even though he couldn’t see them. “It ain’t bad.” Kyle blubbers out, lying to himself and pulling away from Luke. “Just leave me alone!” He tugs his dirty sleeves up over his hands so he can scrub at his face to wipe away the tears and snot, wincing. “Kyle–” Luke gets cut off as he’s shoved away, the motion causing the younger boy to squeak in pain as he spoke. “We got chores to do!” Another round of tears run down his darkened cheeks, stinging the sensitive flesh as he stands up, hunches over and runs off to the barn leaving behind a trail of blood that dribbled out of his mouth.

Luke sat there on his knees and rubbed his stomach where he’d been punched, then sighed and raked his fingers through his short reddish gold hair. His eyes turned up towards the sky, lips moving as he offers a silent prayer to his mother.

Please, if you’re up there…help us

.

#Blast from the past #I need to rewrite it again

[katherinepulitzumber]

We Was Never Meant To Meet // Jackrine Oneshot

This is what happens once Jack and Katherine have a daughter and she won't go to bed without a story. Jack is very good at telling almost-accurate stories of how him and Katherine met. ••• "Alright bedtime!" Katherine called to her daughter Lucy who sat by the coffee table, leaning over and scribbling on paper with her crayons. "Mommy! I'm not tired." She whined. Katherine wiped her hands in the dishrag she'd been using to clean dishes, "Come on.  Don't you want to see your uncles in the morning?" Lucy just tapped her chin in thought with her red crayon, "Yeah. . ." She mumbled. Katherine smiled and picked up the small girl. "Then let's go to bed.  The sooner you go to sleep, the sooner you'll see tomorrow." "Can Daddy tell me a bedtime story?" She asked. Jack popped his head out of the door of the bedroom down the hall, hearing them. "Daddy!" Lucy squealed reaching out for him. Katherine walked over and placed Lucy in Jack's arms. "Heya lil' Princess." Jack smiled as Lucy put her hands on her father's cheeks, squishing them together. "I don't wanna be a princess- I wanna be a newsie like you and Uncle Crutchie and Uncle Davey!" She laughed. Jack laughed lightly but Katherine could still see the glimmer of pain in Jack's eyes thinking of his daughter having to live like he had.  Jack shook his head slightly to clear it before looking back at Lucy's big brown eyes.  She was the perfect image of her mother.  The doe eyes and brown curly hair alongside the small freckles scattered on her cheeks and nose. "Let's get to that story." Jack said, going to Lucy's room. "I'll be out here working." Katherine said, giving both Jack and Lucy a kiss on the cheek and spinning on her heel before going back out to the other room. Lucy's room was anything a little girl would want.  Many books that she loved reading over and over (even if she was still learning) and lots of sketchbooks filled with artwork (well, scribbles).  Jack sat down on her bed and placed Lucy beside him.  She crawled under the covers and grabbed her stuffed elephant from Davey and stuffed rabbit from Crutchie; two of her favorite things in the world. "Now what story do ya want to hear?" Jack asked. "A new one!" "Ya already heard 'em all though!" Jack said. "Pwease?" Lucy said, drawing out the word until she ran out of breath. Jack sighed and rubbed his temples, thinking, "Fine fine. Get yo'self comfortable." His daughter just smiled and scooted farther under the covers, laying against her pillow. "Now, once upon'a time, there was dis newsboy-" "Newsies!" Lucy squealed, sitting up. "Yes, Newsies." Jack smiled, motioning for her to lay back down and let him continue. "And this Newsie was young.  He was just about ta turn 18.  His name was Jack Kelly-" "Its you!" Lucy said. "Yes it's me." Jack grinned, ruffling her hair, "Now shh, or I won't be able ta finish." "Ok." Lucy whispered, hugging her stuffed animals closer. "Now he hads a family.  A newsboy family.  And he lived in a little Lodging House in Manhattan New York.  He was up everyday at da crack of dawn sellin' papes. He always dreamed of dis little town out west called Santa Fe- Now I've already told you that story though. Mom says I've told you at least five times so dis is why I's gonna tell you this one; you'll find it much more interesting." He grinned, "Anyways, there was a day when Joe Pulitzer raised da prices for da papes. See us Newsies, we hads to pay to sell the papers. And they wouldn't buy back da ones we didn't sell. And all o' that happened and we won, but that's for when you're older. I'll tell yous the really good part of the story now." "What's is it?" Lucy asked, widening her eyes. Katherine stood outside the doorway, leaning against the wall and smiling as she listened in on them. "Well that's why this is my favorite story. It's how I met your Ma." She could hear Lucy giggle. "So one o' those days I was workin'. And she passed by wit' Darcy- you know him, he helps babysit yous sometimes." Lucy nodded overeagerly. "And I asked if she wanted ta buy a pape from me. She had told me da headline wasn't out but I told her I could deliver the headline personally. She couldn't resist me after that and-" "That is not what happened Jack Kelly!" Jack turned around, a cocky grin on his face to see his wife standing now fully in the doorway, arms crossed and hip jutted out as she gave him that signature look just like that day. "Well dats how I remember it." Jack mimicked. Katherine rolled her eyes before coming to sit on the other side of Lucy's bed. "I told him that cheeky boys get nothing for their troubles." She said, running a hand through Lucy's curls. "Well apparently theys do." Jack mumbled before Katherine whacked his shoulder playfully. "Well what happened?" Lucy asked. "Your Ma ended up doing a report on the strike-" "What's a strike?" "You'll learn more about it when you're older. It means I's didn't go to work like I was supposed to. But she's one o' da best reporters out there! Front page-" "Above the fold!" Lucy piped up. Jack sighed, "I'm guessing Uncle Davey has already told you some of this." "And Uncle Les. He told me how he had a date with Sally." "Well anyways, a lot happened.  It was scary.  Terrifying.  But this is a happy story." Jack continued, "Now I didn't know that your grandpa Joe was Katherine's father.  And when I found out, I was really upset-" "Why?" "You'll understand when you're older." Katherine smiled, rubbing Lucy's back softly as she blew her bangs out of her eyes in as much frustration as a 3 year old could muster. "So I went up to the rooftop of da Lodging House and found your Ma up there going through my drawings." "They were nice drawings." Katherine interrupted. "Yeah, and yous was lookin' through my personal stuffs." Jack rolled his eyes but smiled at the memory. "Anyways, we ended up fighting and were yelling at each other til I was sur'a Brooklyn could hear us!" "I threatened to punch him in the eye.  I came pretty close too.  I had my fist ready and was inches away from his face." "Then what'd you do?" Lucy asked with wide eyes. ". . . I kissed him." Katherine smiled before leaning over and giving Jack a quick peck on the lips. Lucy wrinkled her nose, "That's disgusting!" She cried. Katherine just laughed and tickled the little girl, "Okay, now it's bedtime." Lucy laid down once more and Jack and Katherine each gave her a kiss goodnight before turning off the lights and leaving the room with a nightlight left on on the dresser. Katherine stood in the bathroom in her nightgown; brushing her teeth and getting ready for bed.  Jack was leaning against the doorframe, grinning at her.  Katherine spit in the sink and splashed water on her face before looking up at him, raising an eyebrow questionably as she dried her face. "Why are you looking at me like that?" "Because, that was some story." Jack said wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close to him. "Well it's true." Katherine smiled, "Very true." "Mhmm." Jack hummed running his thumb over her cheek and kissing her softly, lifting her onto the counter and standing between her legs.  Katherine smiled against his lips and tangled her hands through his hair. "We need to go to sleep.  Knowing Lucy she'll be up at dawn tomorrow and we need to be on our feet." Katherine said, pulling away. She hopped down from the counter and went over and crawled into bed. Jack climbed in next to her and drew the covers over them, pulling Katherine close onto him and kissing her head; running his fingers gently through her hair. Katherine tilted her head up to look at him, "Is that really one of your favorite stories?" She whispered, grinning. "Bett'a then any ol' story I's ever heard." "Well it's my favorite too." "I knew it would be." "Mhmm," Katherine mumbled tiredly, "For sure?" "For sure." Jack said before kissing her and laying back against his pillow, running his hand through Katherine's soft curls and holding her hand with his other as he rubbed gentle patterns along it where she rest on his chest. "I love you." Katherine whispered softly, snuggling closer to him. "I love yous a thousand times more." Jack grinned, "To Santa Fe and back." "Hm, that's quite a ways." "I know. That's how much I love ya." "We'll go there one day. Then you'll have to pick a new destination to love me to and from." Katherine laughed. "Fine, da moon then." "That sounds like a good one to me." "I thought yous would say that." "Are we getting any sleep?" "I'd rather make out instead." "Lucy is in the next room- go to sleep." Jack pouted. "One kiss?" "One kiss." Jack gently pressed his lips against Katherine's before quickly flipping her over so he was hovering on top of her, earning something between a squeal and a laugh from Katherine. "Alright, bedtime." Jack said, moving off of her and turning over to sleep. "The most impossible boy ever."

#newsies #broadway #theatre #theater #musical #musicals #musical theatre #musical theater #Jackrine #Katherine #lambcuddles #jack Kelly #Katherine plumber #jack x Katherine #fanfic #fanfiction #newsies fanfic #newsies fanfiction #jatherine