Off To The Races

“Maybe you are.” Or perhaps he was in a nightmare, she had to refrain from saying. Once his hands touched Brooke Crowley, there was no knowing on what she’d do afterwards. Perhaps she’d never let him leave her side, if he were good enough at doing what she said. Although, the fact that he even had taken the sunscreen from her had proved a worthiness that most others wouldn’t have earned. Truthfully, they would have spat in her face and called her spoiled.

Brooke began to purr slowly, mostly because of the feeling of his fingers gliding over her softened skin, and also for dramatics. Did she want to make him feel good or uncomfortable? There was a fine line in her eyes. When he’d reached a knot, he had definitely earned his spot as he was able to relinquish it without a second thought. Feeling the relaxation she’d longed for, she twisted her head to watch him begin, or what she believes he’s about to do, undo his belt buckle. “You really think I’m going to let you quit there? There’s so many other places you need to do first.” She stated, although teasingly. “Then maybe I’ll see if you’ve proved worth enough.”

✪

Maybe you are, he knows not to take that too seriously and yet he beams from the idea that someone might not think he’s a nightmare instead. And somehow it feels like this whole situation might be a dream, or some strange stress nightmare, when the woman is purring and moving and reacting under his hands. It wigs him out as much as it entices him, short circuiting his brain in spurs every time she makes a noise. 

He starts to take pride in the work he’s done when she lets him no there’s more space to be massaged, and he’s lighting up a boyish smirk at her that this may be some kind of challenge. Or is it flirting?  No way, the mere thought of it has his proud expression faltering slightly, nerves creeping up at the idea that he might be actually wooing someone. He speaks before he can think on it too long, fingers still wrapped around his belt as he talks. “Proved worthy? I didn’t know I’d be getting tested today.” He thinks she’s being dramatic, and he thinks he might like that about her. “What else ya need? An’ lemme tell you these hands don’t come cheap,” he lifts them for show, wriggling his fingers, “that first one was a freebie but now you gotta make it worth my while.” He jokes, knowing he would comply with her wishes either way, settling easily into the role of her pet for lack of a better term. “Hell, maybe buy me dinner first.”

In the dead of night an impulse rocks Jackson to his core. A new piercing, something that’s been on his mind even if the act of it comes abruptly. He looks at the clock, the shop is closed by now he’s sure. He looks at the pack of sewing needles that came with his scrapbook supplies and gets a devilish idea. 

♚ 

❝ you’re damn right we don’t fuck with police. and you keep your nose clean, you’ll never have to either, right? ❞ it’s a warning, but theo himself isn’t the actual threat. the law is. he knew if the kid got locked up, odds were he’d be riding down to the station in the middle of the night to play pretend nice with the cops in spite of himself and post his bail. doesn’t mean he can’t remind him every now and again of the potential repercussions of his more destructive decisions. hell, he surely could have used someone to remind him when he was jackson’s age. maybe it would have kept him out of lockup for the first, maybe even the second or third times. if his expression softens as he ushers jack through the open door, it’s hardly noticeable on an otherwise stoic façade. he just… goddamn it, he doesn’t want the kid to make the same mistakes and choose the same kind of life he did, alright? 

❝ do i look like i’m gonna play nurse for you? ❞ the question follows a snort he doesn’t quite manage to keep silent at jackson’s response to begin with and he shakes his head.  ❝ no, but i’ll take you down to the pharmacy to go get one if you want — hell, i’ll even pay for it — but you’re not getting any sympathy from me when you’re wrong. a bottle of nyquil and a place on my couch to drown your sorrow with it, maybe, if you’re lucky. but that’s it. ❞ he’s chuckling as he leans against the side of the front desk, fishes for his wallet in his pocket.   ❝ and anyway, i’ll only pierce a healthy helix, so keep that in mind. it’s printed in the contract. ❞ 

tossing his wallet across the lobby of the tattoo parlor is just as much a test of trust as it is dexterity for the boy with his hands in his pockets, and theo is curious to see how he responds.  ❝ i don’t know, i couldn’t decide on anything. what sounds good to you? ❞   

✪

“Yeah, yeah,” Jackson gives at the half and half-hearted lecture about not fucking with the police. The man’s had a rough life, that much he knows and can guess too, and if he has advice for staying out of trouble Jack will listen with at least half of his attention. And it’s not that he doesn’t appreciate the... guidance, just that when it comes to impulse and anger he can’t help himself sometimes. And he refuses to go back to therapy when the person his father hired is so... he doesn’t let himself think about it any further, letting himself get distracted by tattoo designs on the wall for people who come in not knowing what they want. A dragon, some hearts, some stars, he wants to spit at them and any one he sees with them imprinted in his skin. When did he become a tattoo snob?

He looks carefully at the man who asks if he looks like he would play nurse, lifting a brow like he’s going to say yes and that expression is an answer enough; smirk playing on his lips. “I don’t fucking want a flu shot dude.” He says adamantly, “I don’t need some snotnose doctor sticking a needle in me okay. I’m fine. I’ll take the cough syrup, gimme three actually.” He laughs at the end, knowing he and his high school buddies still had days when they played around with the intoxicating effects of the purple stuff. “Just like, watch movies with me and hold my hair back when I puke.” He jokes, tapping his fingers on the front counter in a beat that might sound erratic to anyone but him. 

His hands shoot from his pockets when the wallet is tossed, and he catches the item with suspicious ease like he had been expecting the attack; always ready for something. “Meat. I just want meat.” He says, practically drooling already as he pulls out a debit card, eyes practically glowing with mischief. “I’m gonna order ten burgers okay.” He says quickly, pulling out his phone and clicking to GrubHub like he’s already at checkout. “And I have a healthy helix now you ass. Just pierce me already. Flus don’t fucking infect piercings.” Do they? “Don’t make me do it myself. I already did my navel two nights ago cuz I couldn’t take it anymore.”

Noah: well why do you just have a collection of chocolate then??

Noah: oh well if you insist i'll totally take that chocolate off your hands

Jack: maybe i thought i'd pass out halloween candy and changedmy mind fuck off?? you want the candy or not??

Nell: That's highly unlikely.

Nell: Would I just have to wrap myself in aluminum foil? Every time I move, it would be annoying.

Nell: And it reminds me too much of those hats from Signs.

Nell: What's with the candy costume ideas?

Jack: scared?

Jack: I don't fuckin know you could get some gray satin and wrap yourself in that get creative get cute, little herseys ribbon thing coming off your head fuck

Jack: HAHA fuck those hats from signs were hilarious

dark irises stare absolute daggers into the silhouettes of the two men taking off down the street, shoulders squared and fists curled at his sides as if daring either of them to stop before they’re out of his line of sight. theodore könig does not fight, not anymore, but he’ll be damned if he won’t knock a few heads trying to break one up. it isn’t until they’ve really disappeared from his view that theo turns to face jack, head cocked expectantly to one side as he awaits an answer.   ❝ you better not be robbing shit from anybody anyhow, boy, and i’d haul your ass down to the station faster than any cruiser ever could if i found out you were, you’d better believe. ❞ no he wouldn’t. frustrated as he’d be to find out jack was doing anything of the sort, he’d never turn him in. that was an idle threat, and some days, he feared the both of them knew it. hell, he could teach him better than that system ever could; he’d been incarcerated himself enough times to know . 

if there’s anything suspicious about the kid’s story, theo chooses not to mention it. it’s not like he has any proof to the contrary, and, as much as he knows optimism’s always bound to bend right around and bite him in the ass like an angry horsefly, he’s gotta say, he’s at least grateful that it wasn’t one of jack’s fights he was coming out to break up this time.  ❝ people in this town will pick a fight over anything, swear to fuck. but that? downright disgusting. ❞ he wrinkles his nose in disgust, shakes his head and tries to let the anger that swelled in his chest at just the sound of the fight to mellow out.  ❝ c’mon inside, kid, i’m not hosting a fight club here. i’ll give you some cash, order us some takeout or something. ❞ he pauses on his way back in the door, still thinking about what jack said, and looks over his shoulder at him with brows furrowed.  ❝ you get a flu shot yet this year? probably should, come to think of it. bunch of gross folks out on the streets. ❞

✪

“Ha, f-fuck you,” Jackson laughs through the words when the man talks of hauling him down the police station should he find out he was stealing anything. He’s been in his fair share of trouble before, though so far he’s always managed to skirt the police, getting verbally bailed out by friends or some secret benefactors. He knows the man wouldn’t do that to him, at least he thinks so. And if the thought of spending some nights in a jail cell scares him, the thought of spending some nights in Theodore’s dog house scares him more; keeps him in line at least for the moment. For the moment, he’s like a dog left outside on its leash, waiting for its own to come back with praise. “We don’t fuck with police.” He says solemnly, bringing fingers to rub his lip in a somewhat nervous gesture. 

He can’t help but chuckle when Theo takes the story the one man sneezed on another, genuine laughter about a fight starting over such a small disgusting thing. Liking the sound of taking cash to get food, he nods compliantly, ready to follow the other man inside when he speaks up, expression contorted with confusion and distaste. “What do I need a flu shot for, I don’t get sick.” He lies through his teeth, knowing he’s come down with the hard flu more than a couple of times. Truth is, he hates shots. Would do everything he can to avoid getting more. “But if I did I’ll be looking for a caretaker this flu season if you wanna play nurse. Gimme my helix while I cough phlem into your face.” He says with a deadpan air around him, always joking like this when it comes to someone close. 

“An abandoned house, drunk folks, fire, fireworks and a party on Halloween have historically always been a great combination,” Dallas bemoans, stood where he could usually be found – by the fire. He pries off the cap of a beer bottle with the end of his lighter, flicking it in the grass as he looked towards the abandoned house from where he stood in the backyard. 

“I’d bet ten dollars easy that Thanksgiving’ll come early when the Flamingo ends up face first one of these fire pits and gets cooked.” 

✪

Jackson is in the backyard too and he wouldn’t tell most people why, not that he’s planting pranks or anything like that. He stops his work when he hears that voice, rolling his eyes closed like he’s been caught doing something bad by a parent. He stands up straight, spine cracking from disuse and being bent in the same position for well over thirty minutes. 

“No one told me there’d be fireworks.” And Jackson can’t even summon up a smile or a happy greeting for the man at the thought of his night getting ruined by some idiots playing with pyrotechnics. “Guess that’s what you’re here for, right?” He eyes the beer thirstily, cracking his knuckles as he looks around with suspicious eyes. He’s half in costume from the belt down, nailed bat in one hand. “I’ll fuck up anyone who wants to play with fire. Fuck Thanksgiving too, gimme Christmas early or gimme nothing you fuck.” He says fondly, without bitterness in his tone at the man who he literally looks up to. “You starting the party early?”

Nell: The worst candy known to man? I'll pass.

Jack: the WORST? come over here I'm kicking your ass.

❝ — oi, hey! break it up! get that shit outta here! ❞ the shouts echo so loudly through the parking lot that the tinkling chime above the door he’s just shoved open is almost entirely drowned out. and just as quickly as the door swings open, there’s theo, snatching the snug, black vinyl gloves from his hands and shoving them into a pocket as he fixes the source of the sudden discord with a sharp, piercing gaze. all at once ( and whether they were actually intimidated by him enough to come to their senses or they simply thought he was an old narc of a man bound to call the cops or something, theo didn’t actually know ) the scuffle and all parties belonging to it seemed to scatter into the bustle of a busy afternoon downtown. good, he thinks. he’s had to break up more fights, more drug deals and altercations lately than he’s comfortable with, but he’s certainly not afraid to roll his sleeves up if needs be.

 a pause as his gait finally slows and theo huffs an exhale that sounds more like an exasperated sigh than anything else as he looks to the next nearest person.  ❝ christ on a cracker, what do they think this is? gta: five or something? bunch of reckless sons a’ — did you happen to see what was going on? ❞

✪ 

For once it’s not Jackson doing the brawling outside the tattoo and piercing shop, something he would never dream of when the owner inside is a force to be reckoned with. As much dismay as the little fight causes to those around, he just sits and watches like it’s a show -- whispering that one guy should have thrown a left hook or dodged. He does nothing to break up the brawl, keeping his distance at a spot near the front door when the man in mention comes barging through. 

Jack jumps at the yelling, antsy fingers tensing and tightening then unfurling when he has to remind himself not to run or fight too, but stay. He watches the fighters skitter off before the man can call the cops or worse, and he’s still partially shivering when Theo turns his attention to him, itching for that action but staying calm all the same. “If this were G-T-A-V those guys woulda robbed your store and stole your car. That’s what I’d do.” Wait,” if the shop wasn’t yours I mean.” That’s it. “I don’t really know what they were fightin’ about, but I saw the hairy guy sneeze on the other guy and they started throwing punches.” He says, wondering if the man will believe him when the truth was that he happened to shove one guy and blame it on the other before he could be caught. 

THE JACKAL @fuckyourcole said:

“Are you kidding?” Holland asked, her face breaking into a grin. “Yes, please, oh my god. Absolutely. This is like, a dream job. I love horror shit. And I used to work at the Book Nook, so I know your judges pretty well,” she added, nodding. Holland took a seat, slammed her coffee down on the table. “I have half an hour before I need to be on set. Show me what you’ve got, kid.” 

✪

“You, know the judges...?” He can swear a bead of sweat rolls down his forehead, but it’s just his imagination. Suddenly skittish, it takes all he has not to abruptly close the laptop and leave, for what would that make of their interaction? He swallows, looking at her only as long as it takes to soak in those big green eyes, the near contagious smile she wears. He flinches when she slams the coffee down, continuing on like it never happened. “Here,” he turns his laptop toward her, “just a short creepy story about some monsters in the walls. If you like it, they might like it too.” He doesn’t want his excitement to show but it down in a quick boyish smile before disappearing entirely. “What, what set are you going to? Like a movie set?” He dares a glance back at her. 

A long shift at the arcade feels even longer when all Jack can do is keep gazing at the blazing neon wall clock. Usually he’s enamored by all the lights, noise, and people winning or losing, but today he’s got a chip on his shoulder. A call from back home earlier this morning is what sours his mood, leaving him scowling even when telling patrons to ‘have a great day’. It’s only halfway through the day when he decides to take his lunch break a little early, skipping the food he should be eating entirely to tend to a virtual game of motorcross; the machine with the top three high scores reading: JAC, J4K, and JCL. It was all him, of course, at least it was last time he checked.

Now, the top score reads someone else’s name and he spends the next forty-five minutes trying to beat the score until he’s grunting and kicking at the infernal machine. Whoever it was, he would kill them for the trouble; knife them at least. “Fuck!” He yells into the crowd, though the noise of the arcade mostly drowns him out. He shakes and kicks the machine again until the screen turns black and he’s really panicking. “Oh fuck, fuck fuck.” He first looks out for Bowie, and then goes around to the outlet, finding that he’s accidentally pulled the plug rather than breaking the machine. Plugging it back in, the whole arcade’s power blinks for a second before successfully chugging on, the beeps of all the machines making him flinch hard.

Found Family (4/?)

bowie: your best sunburn remedies ASAP 🥵

bowie: feeling crispy