Dear, Jack

Me now: It’s more like abandonment issues and less jealously. He fears everyone's gonna leave him and the strike did nothing to help that lmao )

‘Why bother? Ya seen the cops are crawlin’ ‘round like roaches now a days, I ain’t even got a dollar.”

“No room at the Holiday inn,-” Crutchie paused, his shoulders visibly slumping forward some. “Oh no...And it’s beginning to snow.”

(Hey all it’s been a while. I’m trash af so Like this for a R/ENT lyric starter )

“Ya know Morris, Some time down the road you might regret being an ass ta everyone.” Crutchie said with a roll of his eyes. The little voice inside his head was probably telling him to ‘shut up, you’ll dig yourself a early grave’, But it seems he’s deciding to ignore that voice today and just be brutally honest to a guy who could easily toast him like a marshmallow. “Let me see it.” referring to the others injury.

Crutchie’s eyes peeled open and the sound of footsteps. Ever since his time in the refuge, the boy seemed to wake at even the slightest of noises. “Ah yeah probably…” The boy grinned up at the girl as he began to get to his feet. “Ain’t no harm done though see?”

“I told you.” The boy repeated, though he didn’t seem much like a boy anymore. For now it was quite obvious what he was. his figure flickered in and out of view, slowly. The smudgy look about his persons made sense now and Noah was surprised  the other hadn’t mentioned, or realized sooner. Despite his obviously odd presence, Noah’s marking on his face which seemed like a smudge of dirt, now was seen in a whole new light. A bruise from when his cheek caved in, a chilling realization of what happened to the boy 7 years ago.

send me  🍸 for a moodboard of our muses send me  🍷 for an aesthetic of our muses send me  🍹 for a short fanfic/headcanon of our muses send me  ☕️ for a mini playlist of our muses

"How can a story never die?”