#no longer have a crush on Davey

[curb-your-expectations]

That awkward moment when your art and entertainment producing “celeb” crushes start to get closer and closer to you in age until eventually you are either a.) the same age as one of them, b.) none of them are considered too old for you by societal standards anymore or c.) worst of all, you are at least a year or more older than one of them.

[orphicrose]

Ok so i just saw your Hosea x child reader and it was amazing (obviously) now I'm wondering if you could do Hosea x reader who's an old friend. The reader has a somewhat stable life, used to be a doctor but moved to a small cot in the mountains. They kinda keep in contact via letters but not really that often because the reader isn't too keen to gi into town and send out mail. What if Hosea has to introduce the reader to the gang at some point, like what if they are on the run again so Hosea leads them up the mountain onto the reader's property to kinda hide there. At first reader doesn't recognize Hosea because they haven't seen each other in a long time, but then he invites them all in, maybe he's even got enough room for all of them and the reader is just this sweet old man, same age as Hosea who treat everyone with respect if they deserve it, helps them out, doesn't judge etc. Hosea is just so glad that his family and his crush best friend are getting along.

Colter (Hosea x Male!Reader)

Note: In an au where Hosea takes the gang to readers home instead of colter. Thank you for the Request!

Warnings ! ! None

W/C : 1.1k

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The harsh wind was suffocatingly cold, rugged mountainous landscape making travel near impossible. The atmosphere unforgiving, and bleak. The van der linde troops struggling to maintain life, every exhale met with a cold cloud. Huddling together in the back of the wagon to invade at each others warmth. Arthur shivered on his horse uncontrollably, him and Dutch shouting back and forth.

"There's nothing out there, Dutch!" He yelled over the heaving of ice through the air, powerful enough to pull him from his horse.

"Keep looking!" Dutchs voice broke as he shouted back.

"I know a place, keep going north!" Hosea gripped at the reins on his icy seat atop the wagon.

"You heard him!"

The group travelled the treacherous land, having no other choice but to push on. A flicker of life in the distance shining hope down on them, a small cabin revealing itself from the harsh winter.

Hosea let himself in first, letting the group know there was no danger. The beautiful heat from the raging fire hit them hard, offering instant relief from their dampened cloths. But perhaps they should have knocked, first. As a strange man had the barrel of his gun pointed at Dutchs head.

"Easy, yn" Hosea stepped forward, hand stretched in front of him.

The old man slowly dropped his weapon,, eyes lighting up at the sight of Hosea.

"Hosea! Long time no see old pal" His arms pulled the man into an embrace, Hosea appreciating the extra layer of warmth. "Caught in the Blizzard, I see?"

"Oh you know me. Always getting myself into life or death situations" He patted his old friends back and then retreated from the hug, pointing to the shivering group of people behind him. "Speaking of, don't suppose you could help a old bunch of delinquents?"

Y/n stood there for a second in thought, frail hands touching at his chin. "Well, There's not a lot of space but I don't mind sharing it for a few nights. As long as y'all don't reck the place"

"Of course, y/n. And no need to worry, we will repay your kindness. We have some skilled hunters amidst our criminals." Hosea pats Arthur on the back rather hard, an indication to his next mission.

"I'm sure you do" Y/n chuckles, inviting them inside.

"We really appreciate this, what was it, y/n?" Dutch offers the man a hand.

"Thats right" He returns the hand shake and smiles warmly at the charismatic man.

"Dutch, I suppose you could call me the leader of these 'bunch of delinquents'"

"Ah, I see" Y/n gave Hosea a knowing look. Having spoken about him in the letters they shared over the years. The moment took a turn when Pearson and Javier began to heave in the injured Davey. His pale skin mimicking that of the snow that surrounded them.

"He's not going to make it for much longer if we don't do something" Abigail moved everyone out of the way as they hauled the almost corpse from the bitter cold.

"Bring him in here" Y/n waved his hand as he cleared the wooden table sat in his small kitchen.

At least 20 minutes of tireless work and tense vibes had passed, y/n doing his best to stop the bleeding and prevent infection. Davey was in a stable position, his body being warmed by a fire as he lay in a makeshift bed on the floor. Still remaining still and in a deep sleep. But alive nonetheless.

Everyone had found a space to settle in. Drying out their clothes around the room, and taking the time to finally rest. John, who had been picked up on the way, lay similarly to Davey. Still and wounded. The idiot was mauled by wolves. Luckily for him, his horse braved the blizzard enough to get him back to the group in time.

The rest of the men sipped on hot beverages made by y/n, enjoying the company of good stories and a warm shelter. Taking it in while they could, for the morning to come could only bring worse obstacles.

"I was a Doctor, years ago. Saved Hoseas life countless times. But, as most people do these days, I had bad people after me. Had to move somewhere more remote. Its really not that bad in the summer." Y/n sat, leaning on his knee on the floor with a coffee in his hand.

"Saved my life" Hosea scoffed. "You bandaged up a little scrape for me. A child could have done that"

"It was a bullet hole wound you terrible man" Y/n laughed, playfully shoving him.

They chuckled together. Listening to each other as they shared their silly stories. Ones about when Arthur was a boy, or how they'd picked up John as a child.

"We can't put into words how grateful we are for the shelter, Y/n" Dutch put a hand to his heart.

"My pleasure. Think of it as a sorry for almost shooting y'all earlier"

"Don't worry about feeding us. Pearson over here has been our designated chef for years now. I can't imagine he is about to quit now" He pointed to a larger man in the kitchen, making conversation with Swanson with a bottle in both their hands. Y/n chuckled and nodded.

"Well, good luck finding food or even fresh meat. I have to sacrifice myself once every two weeks at the moment to make it into the nearest town"

"Valentine?" Hosea questioned

"Yeah, that's the one. Not to far South-East of here" Y/n had planted an idea in Hosea's head. That would be where they will find themselves next.

The group found themselves drifting to sleep as the night grew old. Scattered on the chairs, the floor next to the fire and any space they could find. But they were warm and they were ok.

Y/n and Hosea moved to the bed, away from the swarm of people on the floor. "You are welcome here whenever you need, old friend" y/n got himself into bed and patted the empty space next to him.

Hosea gladly took the invitation and plated himself in the warmth of the blanket.

"Noted, y/n" They shared a smile, before letting themselves fall to sleep.

It had been weeks since they had left the mountains, and settled in Horse-shoe Overlook. Hosea thought about y/n most days, wondering how he was getting on. He still hadn't replied to the last letter he sent. But he will be waiting with anticipation. Perhaps he should take a trip up there soon.

[wren-is-a-wreck]

I’m back with part 3 of Is Now a Bad Time?, by popular demand! part 2 is here

Davey was in his room, next to a boy. They were staring at the ceiling, but neither of them spoke. Davey might almost think Jack was asleep already. Having Jack here made Davey’s tired mind spin. Made him think about things he didn’t want to.

“Jack? I really am glad you decided to stay. In New York, I mean. I dunno what I’d do without you.”

He could see Jack’s head turn to face him out of the corner of his eye. “Not go ta Santa Fe, you mean? Yeah, I'm glad too.”

Davey turned his head to match Jack, searching his face for truth. Jack's face was red from the wind, and his hair was just barely wet now. He knew he wasn't the reason Jack stayed in Manhattan. That was Katherine’s doing. She’d been the one he stayed for. Not for Crutchie, or Race, or Spot, or any of the other newsies. Not Les, who was basically his little brother now. Not for Davey. It hurt, just a little, to know that Jack’s relationships were obviously unbalanced. Davey and Les have to go back to school as soon as their father gets a new job. If Davey was being honest with himself he would probably run from his responsibilities if Jack asked him to. No matter what, he would do what Jack asked him. Davey turned away from Jack without saying anything, tearing his blue eyes from the hazel ones back to the ceiling.. Why was his life so unfair?

Davey has had to share a bed since his brother was born. He trained himself to stay on his side, and sleep peacefully. Jack, on the other hand, slept on a roof, and didn't know personal space when he was conscious, let alone cold and sleep deprived. So Davey was only a bit surprised when Jack’s arm came flopping onto his chest. He whipped his head around to look at Jack, who was dead asleep, mouth wide open. He stared for a while longer, studying Jack’s face while it was relaxed with sleep. He wasn't quite sure why, but Davey brought his hands up to Jack’s arm, resting his palms over the weight on his chest. He knew he really needed to get some rest, otherwise his parents and Les would know something was wrong. The rain was wonderful white noise, so why couldn't he fall asleep? Jack shifted in in his sleep, scooting closer to the warm side of the bed. Davey looked over again, to make sure he was still sleeping. Jack was mouthing words in his sleep, and his brow was furrowed now. Davey held Jack’s arm tighter, rubbing circles with his fingers.

He thought again about Jack’s choice to stay in New York. The moon is bigger in Santa Fe? Honestly… Davey wondered what he would've done if Jack had left. Probably go with him. Hed go anywhere with-

Oh. OH. Oh no.

How was Davey supposed to get any sleep if Jack, his best friend, whom he had a crush on, had his arm across him?

I'm in love with Jack Kelly.

Don’t worry, there’s more. I’ll get it out as soon as I get to a good spot

[the-realest-spot-conlon]

The Best Brothers Aren't Blood Related Pt.3

Alright here we go sorry it's taken so long but here.

Tw:ignoring mental health, talking about mental health, language, etc.

After football practice, spot met Jack in the car, where Jack waited for 10 minutes after art club ended. Football practice ran 10 minutes longer than art club, but it just gave Jack time to make out with Davey in the jeep, so he wasn't complaining.

Spot trod his way to the jeep, storm clouds gathering above his head. He looked in the car and saw Race in the back seat, Davey in the passenger's side.

Shit Spot thought to himself.

He got in the car, greeted my three older guys, one of them his crush.

Jack pulled out of the parking lot and started the drive home.

"So Spot, how was practice?" Jack asked, looking at Spot through the rear view mirror.

"Fine," Spot said before looking out the window. He must have been tapping his finger on his leg because he felt a warm hand over his.

Race's hand.

Spot tried to make nothing of it. He was just trying to calm him down like a good friend, right?

----------

When Jack pulled up to the house, all four teenagers piled out of the car and walked into the house.

"Hey Spot, me and Davey are gonna go hang out in my room," Jack said, winking.

Spot gave Jack a look that said, 'I'm gonna kick your ass later.'

So now Spot and Race were left to their own devices in Spot's room. Spot kicked off his shoes and flopped on his bed. Rsce opted for the desk, that was right next to Spot's nightstand.

Shit Spot thought to himself. The ADHD pills.

Spot saw Race's eyes flicker to the bottle. "I kind of had a hunch you had ADHD," Race said.

"Oh yea?" Spot asked, hiding the nervousness in his voice.

"My little brother has it, so I know a whole ton about the symptoms," Race rambled off.

"You're cute when you ramble off," Spot said out loud, before realizing he said it out loud. "Did I just say that out loud??"

"Relax, I think you're cute too," Race said smoothly, and Spot practically died inside.

Race walked over to the bed and sat down on his side. He reached for the remote, looking to Spot to see if he had permission to use the TV. Spot gave him a nod, and Race flipped on a Glee re-run.

"It's hot in here," Spot said as he took off his letterman jacket, tossing it to the side.

Race caught himself staring at Spot's toned muscles. Spot soon followed his gaze, then smirked at the taller boy.

Race saw Spot's smirk, but he didn't look away. Instead he looked at though he was reading Spot's soul through his eyes.

Spot leaned forward slowly, not wanting to scare Race off. However Race pulled him in by the shirt, pressing their lips together. Spot felt electricity all the way down in his toes, even if it wasn't a far travel.

Spot ran his fingers through the taller boy's hair, and Race's hands explored the toned abs beneath Spot's shirt.

"WHAT????"

Both boys turn their heads to see a shocked Jack, and a slightly less shocked Davey.

"Shit,"

So uh, things happened. :)

I'll post pt.4 soon. <33

[newsies-are-the-new-best-thing]

Saving others and yourself

Part 5 of my trans Davey series, 'my courage, found'

<prev & next> masterlist

Trigger Warnings: minor misgendering, mentioned character injury, unsafe binding possibly.

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Everything is much too busy. Hurried footsteps crash around at all hours. Worried mutters a constant buzz between the adults. Davey is trapped in the middle of it all, unhearing, unmoving. He has no idea what he is supposed to do. Should he help tend to his father? Should he cook for his mother? There are no instructions to follow yet, everything tentative. Fear and worry hang heavy in the air, dampening the apartment, an oppressive smog that Davey wishes would disappear. Neighbors come and go, friends and other family visiting in a loud flurry, leaving mountains of food, and whispered prayers in their wake. Tears are a stagnant constant in his eyes, refusing to fall, burning in grief and fear. His heart has stopped, no longer quick to race, a hardened weight inside. In the end standing still gets him no where and he ends up being forced into the kitchen, cramped together with all the women who come to visit, ignoring the twist of familiar discomfort curling inside, and told to make himself useful.

He winds up learning as much as he can on unions, desperate to understand how his father could be fired for being injured, desperate to be useful in a different way in the future. With the recent trolly strike being reported in near every major paper all he had to do was beg and barter with his brother to go out and buy a ‘pape for him, afraid of running into a newsie he knew, and then he read. Throwing himself into consuming every new paper at any free chance he had in those first few, terrible days, he read and re-read the struggles the workers were facing, why they were doing what they were, what a union did, and everything else he could find.

And so, the week begins to slowly pass. And Davey sees his mother’s face being etched with worry as she shuffles through the bills that were beginning to pile up and the dwindling savings. His father will not die, his family is assured by the doctor, but he will be unable to stand for longer than a few minutes for at least a month, being currently confined to bed. And with this, Davey feels a crushing weight slip off his shoulders and a new one press down. Pushing aside his twisting gut and the stacking heaviness, Davey allows his mother to sit him down with his siblings, catching a glance of his sister’s face, an amalgam of uneasiness and concern. The dining table they are surrounding has been worn by time, and Davey let’s his hands trace the familiar grain, hoping to calm himself. It’s nearing noon by now, bright light filtering into the kitchen, alarmed neighbors having taken most of the morning trying to comfort their mother.

“With your father injured and out of work I am afraid that I will have to go out and get work.” His mother breathes out, face turned downwards, clutching a cup of tea that has long since cooled.

His heart cracks, splintering more than it already has, to see his mother defeated by the world in such an awful way.

“Ma,” he begins, forcing away his own pain, clearing his mind “we will do whatever you want us to. But you have to take care of yourself, this situation has been dreadful, but you can’t go out and wear yourself down while we stay here perfectly capable. I’m sure that we can find work somewhere, there is no need to exhaust yourself when we can help.”

His mother looks up, saddened eyes meeting his, and she nods slightly, frowning. Les and Sarah have both turned to stare at him as well, firm looks fixed on their faces.

“I’m sure that me and Davey can find work cleaning or sewing, and Les is sure to be a good newsie.” Sarah states, moving to clutch their mother’s hand in hers.

A sinking knot, tangles inside but Davey pays it no mind, pushing it far away as he had for the past few days, there is no time for his own discomfort, he thinks.

“I am so sorry for asking you to do this” his mother says, reaching into her pocket for a handkerchief, and dabbing at her eyes. “You should be in school, should be children.”

“Sarah and I are practically fully grown Ma, I think it’s time for us to face the world.” Davey replies.

“…. Mrs. Cohen had asked about you watching her youngest children for a few hours every day, had offered to pay you for it, Sarah” their mother tells Sarah after a few moments of silence.

“That sounds like a fine plan to me” Sarah responds, gently smiling.

“And Davey,” their mother looks at him, face lighter and shoulders relaxed “There is sure to be work in the garment district. You and Les can go out looking tomorrow.”

Davey nods his head. Les looks excited, possibly too much, at the opportunity to work but Davey is just glad that he no longer looks as frightened as he had earlier in the week. He continues to discuss the details with his mother and sister, laying out a plan where he was to drop Les off at the distribution gate to sell ‘papes and then find work in the garment district or at one of the shops nearby. Sarah would stay home and care for their father and then work in the afternoons, allowing their mother to find rest after the terrible week they had.

That night, as the city begins to slow down, a blanket of stars sweeping over the sky, the crisp air begins to chill Davey’s tiny room. Rough floorboards do little to capture any warmth and Davey finds himself burrowing under his thinning covers soon after he’s retired to sleep. He’s sure that Sarah and Les are perfectly warm in their room but even the harkening summer season has its cold nights and Davey wonders if the newsies are feeling any better. With a sigh, Davey lets himself wonder what tomorrow will bring, he will do whatever he has to, to care for his family, even if that means pushing aside his own storm of feelings. But he also knows how absent he can be when he’s pushed into his role, how many dangerous mistakes could happen if he were to sink too far away again, unaware, and unable to escape the haze he finds himself settle into and stop himself. A flipping knot of worry takes up residence in his gut and he turns over, trying to find some sort of rest. There is no resolution to this problem, he cannot seem to find a solution where he can help support his family and be himself. He chides himself in his mind when he finds himself plagued by this problem. It’s selfish, really, he thinks, to be dwelling on such struggles when his father is still injured. The worries still weigh on his mind.

He doesn’t find much sleep that night, waking groggy and tired the next morning, worry still twisted around inside. A new worry has sprung from his restless night and stayed stuck in his mind, if Les is to find work as a newsie what is stopping him from meeting Jack and connecting the dots or bringing someone Davey knows back home. It seems farfetched, at least a little bit, but he can’t dismiss it as he joins his sister in the kitchen to help with breakfast.

After eating, his mother and sister waltz into his room and rummage around in his small dresser, laying out the nicest day clothes they can find. His heart leaps every time they pick through his clothes, fear gnawing in his stomach. But thankfully, they do not discover his roll of fabric concealing his other clothes. Instead, his mother coos over how wonderful he looks after he forces himself to dress, smoothing down the skirts he’s trying desperately to forget he is wearing. His sister ends up fixing one of her small broaches to his shirt, smiling quietly at him. His heart lurches at the gesture, guilt raising its head when he can’t quite seem to find the same joy in the way he looks that his sister and mother do. As they leave, Les bubbling with excitement, his mother pushes a few cents into his hand, and then they are shooed out the door with wishes of luck.

Outside its bouncing with a wild energy, summer beginning to fully show despite the cold night, sun bright and near blinding as it enters the sky. Rays dusting over the top of buildings, catching and dancing into the dozens of shadows of the crowds rushing about. A warmth is hinted upon the city air, a promise of something new, something good, and Davey let’s himself relax slightly, comforted by the atmosphere of the city.

He has a hasty plan of how to escape the crushing feeling of pretending to be someone he is not, an idea that came late last night in the pressing darkness and had refused to be silenced. Desperate and absurd, the idea is sure to only work if he lets Les know who he is. It’s a terrifying thought, to let his brother in on something as large, as personal, as intricate as the secret he holds. His heart begins to speed up just thinking about it, but he shoves it aside, trying to not dwell on what he is about to do. Ignoring his growing panic, he reminds himself of the candy-like joy that melts inside when he is truly himself and holds that feeling inside. Glancing around for Les who is bounding around a few paces in front of him, he waves for the other to follow him, and leads them to the back alley his fire escape leads to. Rough brick lines the deserted alley, and he leans against it, carefully pressing his back to the cool wall. Les appears confused but he stops and stares up at Davey. Folding his arms over his chest in attempt to hide it and his shaking hands, Davey begins to speak to his brother.

“Les, I have to tell you something, it’s important” he says hurriedly over the bustling city, looking down at where Les is impatiently standing.

“What is it?” Les asks, curiosity written on his face.

Swallowing down the still present panic, Davey says firmly,

“I’m not your sister. I’m more like your brother. F-” he breaths out and steadies himself “For some reason I’m not a girl, even if I was born one…I’m not, I’m a boy, like you, do you understand?”

Les is silent for a few moments, face a puzzling mix of emotions Davey can’t read and his heart starts to race, pounding harshly in his tightening chest. After an eternity passes, Les responds.

“You’re a boy even though everyone thinks you’re a girl? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Ye-yes, I am.”

“That kinda makes sense, thanks for tellin’ me, I guess” Les says, and Davey feels his heart stumble at the acceptance, worry dying to a low simmer. The world comes slamming back to him, noises no longer muddled but now bright and clear drift from the street in a rush, and he lets out a shallow breath. Les is quick to clutch him into an awkward sort of hug and Davey blinks away the tears that have collected in his eyes, returning the hug.

“Thank you, Les.” Davey says, releasing Les and standing up, “You have to promise me that you won’t tell anyone else, alright?”

“Yeah, I promise. It’s a secret between brothers, right?” Les says smiling and then holds out his hand.

“…. Yes, so it is very important to keep it” Davey says shakily, grasping Les’s hand and shaking it.

“Are we going to find work now?” Les asks.

“Yes, let me go change and then we can go.”

A new bought of confusion begins to cloud Les’s face but he stays quite as Davey begins to climb the ladder to his room. Sliding through his window, he slips out of his skirts and into the trousers, flings off his shirt and wraps his chest tightly, dresses fully and then adjusts his cap until it looks right on his head. Aching sweet joy sweeps through him as he descends the ladder back to Les, a happiness he never feels living as a woman, courses through him and he breathes out a quiet sigh of relief.

“What happened to your hair?” Les blurts out when he catches a fully look at Davey.

Smiling gently at Les, he adjusts the bag he grabbed, hoisting it over his shoulder, and tries to find his lower pitched voice. “I cut my hair a few months ago, I needed a change.” Les nods his head at that in a serious way, unbothered by Davey’s change in voice.

“Now, Let’s go, I’m going to sell papers with you.” Davey says, smiling at Les and leading them out of the alley.

Les’s excitement seems to return twofold as the make their way toward the distribution gate, a place Davey has heard a few tales about. As they walk, weaving through the already heavily crowded streets, Les asks a rush of questions ranging from when exactly Davey cut his hair to what type of food, he likes most as a boy, a question which perplexes Davey in multiple ways.

“What should I call you?” Les asks, while hopping over cracks in the street.

“Well, you can say I’m your brother, that my name is David.” Davey says a small smile lighting on his face when he says his name out loud.

“David? So, I should say you’re my brother David if someone asks?”

Davey nods, smile widening. And then Les is asking something else.

Eventually they reach the gate and Davey steels himself for the recognition he is bound to face from the newsies, slightly concerned that Les will share his identity with the others. When he approaches with Les towards the end of the haphazard line of newsies, he is mildly surprised when the others don’t identify him, but he can’t really fault them since only Jack, Race, and Crutchie have ever fully seen him out in daylight. Les is tugging on his arm in excitement as they shuffle forwards toward Wiesel or “Weasel” as the newsies call him, and Davey slips the cents out of his pocket, readjusting the strap of his bag where it presses on his chest bindings at an uncomfortable angle. Ahead of him, Jack is grabbing his papers, chatting with the others, and then stops nearby where a small group was forming. Davey keeps himself quiet, a bit unsure how to begin explaining what he was doing there. When Davey approaches “Weasel” he finds the gruff man staring intently down at him. Choking back the rush of panic that is surging up inside, he hopes that there is nothing to give away who he is.

“Get a look a’ that, a new kid, huh?” Wiesel spits out, looking him up and down.

Les lets out a loud protest of also being new to selling the ‘pape and Jack looks up from where he’s crowded with Crutchie and meets Davey’s eyes. A startled laugh spills out and then a chorus of gleeful shouts fills the air as the others spot him.

“Take your ‘papes and move along” Wiesel hollers out over the clamor and Davey hurriedly drops his payment into the tin, stumbling slightly in pain when one of the Delancey’s shoves the papers harshly into his chest. He ushers Les off to the side for a moment, and flips through the pages quickly, tallying the total.

“Hey, excuse me” He blurts out before he can think better of it “I paid for twenty, but you gave me nineteen.”

“No way, beat it kid.” Wiesel barks

“Look, I just want what I paid for-”

“He said beat it” A Delancey brother says harshly, face a mixture of anger and excitement. Jack has sauntered his way over to them as the other news boys look on in a mixture of tentative interest and caution. Jack is clearly irritated by Wiesel’s attitude and the Delancey’s presence although his appearance is all peaceful charm, protective nature rearing up and urging him to stand up for Davey. Once he’s close enough he is quick to take the other’s papers and counts them as well.

“Woah! Mouth’s right, Wiesel-ly, you’s gave ‘im nineteen.” He says sharply leveling a deadly stare at Wiesel.

“I’m sure it’s an honest mistake, on accounts that Oscar can’t count ta’ tweny with his shoes on tight.”

A surge of roaring laughter and cheering from the newsies along with angered spluttering from Wiesel and his hired help swarms the air. A bright grin lights Jack’s face as he turns back towards Davey who also begins to smile, a warmth growing in his chest when he glances around to see all the boys he’s come to view as friends, gathered together.

“Hey, gives my friend fifty more ‘papes” Jack says, slamming down a quarter at Wiesel.

Guilt sprouts inside Davey’s gut, and he attempts to protest Jack’s charity, but he is quickly outnumbered by the others. So, Davey lets Jack sling an arm over his shoulders and steer him towards the others with another stack of papers in his bag.

“Well, Mouth?” Jack asks, smile wide, “What’s you’se doin’ here gettin’ ‘papes?”

“He’s here to help our family” Les says proudly, sneaking around from where he was trailing behind Davey and bounding up on the other side of Jack. Davey breathes an inner sigh of relief and enjoys the happiness that springs up from Les switching so easily to seeing him as a boy.

“Who are you?” Les asks loudly. Before Davey can begin to lament forgoing telling Les about his midnight escapades and how he already knows the newsies, Jack responds.

“Names Jack, who are you’s?” He asks, stopping in front of the others and looking down at Les.

“I’m Les and that’s my brother David,” Les says steadily and Davey’s heart fills with honeyed joy at the still novel sound of his brother speaking of Davey in a way that reflected who he truly is and he lets a small smile slip onto his lips. “How do you know him? And who’s Mouth?” Les asks.

Jack looks over at Davey, an expression full of confusion painted on his face as well as the other boys. A tangle of worry knots inside his gut and Davey attempts to find an explanation.

“He’s Mouth ‘cause he don’t talks that much” Race juts in to answer Les when Davey is silent for too long. He’s leaning cheekily against Albert and gestures towards Davey with his cigar.

“How come you’s here if you’s got school today?” Crutchie questions over the jumbled muttering of the others.

“Alrights, tell the me and the fellas’ whats goin’ on” Jack says, slipping his arm off Davey’s shoulders and facing him fully.

Readjusting his voice to sound lower, Davey re-counts the past week, skirting around the more difficult details. The others, especially Race appear delighted when he fully clarifies who Les is, bright grins turning towards his younger brother who is still standing there with a confused expression. When he finishes telling them, Jack’s face has sobered.

“Sound’s awful, Mouth” he says lowly, a few of the other boys slap him gently on the back in a show of rough yet comforting, sympathy.

“It’s better now… I just need to make sure I sell all my ‘papes to help my father and family” Davey says, trying to steer away from his home-life and the dangers that came with speaking about it.

“I’s sure that if you’se stick with Jack you’ll sell outta ‘papes in no time” Crutchie says. Jack nods at this and Davey feels a weight drop off his shoulders. He’s glad he will no longer have to worry about trying to learn how to sell with Les and slightly (more than slightly) happy that he will get to spend a bit of time with his friend as well.

“Davey said that we could sell fifty a day” Les says, finally having become fed up with how perplexing the situation is, deciding to follow the portion of the conversation he understood.

“I’m sure we’se could sell near a thousand a week if ya’ stick with me.” Jack says and then looking down at Les, “Sos, you’se Mouth’s younger brother, huh? How old are ya’?”

“I’m almost ten! Could we really sell a thousand?”

“Sure! Jus’ as long as you’s say you’re seven, got it?” Jack says through a smirk, tousling the hat on Les’s head.

Davey is genuinely concerned that Les is more likely to abandon their family for the newsies than him. After clearing up any remaining confusion, Davey has found himself meandering towards wherever Jack wants them to sell, listening to his younger brother and friend converse excitedly. Wide grins sit upon both of their faces as Les tries to explain some-sort of prank he had pulled with a school friend to the older boy who is listening enraptured. Letting his shoulders untense and relaxing his jaw, Davey breathes in a slow, easy breath of the early summer air. There is a soul-sweet relief from the absence of some of the worry that has inundated his adventures and he smiles slightly at the joy that takes up residence in it’s place. He’s glad to be here in some selfish way, glad he can be himself with his brother at his side, living life as he so wishes. And he finds himself hating that small portion of himself that is glad, because his father is still injured and his fam

[rockybloo]

I'm in love with Corroded Treasure, especially Loligo and Avis, can you tell us more about them? And how many people are gonna join their crew?

Gonna answer backwards since the first is def gonna be longer.

I honestly have no idea how many people will join Loligo and Avis' crew atm only because Corroded Treasure is lowkey a dumping ground for my old OCs that I still want to use. Which is why the whole world the story takes place in is based off toysets and such to make some sense in canon.

AS FOR LOLIGO AND AVIS-I have no idea how much anyone really reads lore wise but a quick run down is that Loligo is a god who achieved godly status by beating Davey Jones in a game. He enjoyed his powers until one day his crew pulled a mutiny and stole his eye, nerfing him and trapping him in a treasure box to be buried forever on an island unmarked by any map.

Avis is a avian sapient (winged race of people in Corroded Treasure) who is very much interested in pirates. She's honestly interested in the whole world but since she is an avian, they live high high HIGH above everyone else in the sky in lowkey isolation.

So she decides one day to bail and chase that pirate life after reading about the legend of a grand sea faring god.

And so Loligo became Avis's first treasure hunt. Something that should have ended with her empty handed as it was stated to be impossible for Loligo to ever be found but Avis is a master navigator and did the impossible.

And since she is such a good navigator, Loligo figured she would be perfect to find his eye and get his full powers back.

Initially he was just gonna use her an leave but over the course of his journey, he winds up growing attached because she is the only person who still sees him as some cool dude even though he's nerfed. So he winds up developing a crush.

He is very stubborn about this crush.

He would rather die than confess he is in love. He will, however, express affection but in such a way that he doesn't feel like a sap. He can't let the world know he's a simp.

Avis, on the other hand, is very obvious about her crushing. It is one of the first things anyone learns when they first meet the duo. She is Loligo's ride-or-die, even though he hates the concept of her being so willing to risk her life for him and scolds her every time. Ironically, she has no idea Loligo actually likes her. She just thinks he's being his flirtatious pirate self. Even when they get intimate together, she just thinks "Oh Cap'n is just being Cap'n~!" since he does flirt with others when parked at ports...but that's only so he can get people to do things for him. None of it is genuine unlike when he is with Avis.

And Loligo is just "How can I make things ANY MORE OBVIOUS I LOVE HER WITHOUT ACTUALLY SAYING IT I AM RUNNING OUT OF IDEAS ME FUCKIN' DAMN IT"

So their dynamic is basically just Di$ney villain and his henchman but they both are crushing but henchman believes it's one sided when it's actual mutual.

[professionallydeadinside]

Piano man fanfic? On MY blog? It’s more likely then you think,,,,,,,

“Hey! Sorry to disturb you, but do you mind if I sit here? Whole bar’s always packed on Saturdays.”

Paul Noonly looked up from his book and drink, his table was situated in a tight corner of the bar, away from whatever crowd was forming around whoever musician was playing. It was a surprise to him that he’d even been noticed at all, the hours of monotony at his job had given him the impression that he was invisible. And yet, here he was, being seen by a young Navy man with twinkling eyes that seemed to be the very vessel of the night sky.

“Certainly not.” The boy smiled, pulling out the chair and sitting in it in an overly domestic way, like a husband waiting for his wife to occupy her seat in his lap.

“The name's Davey by the way.” The Navy man said. “Davey Laurens.”

“Paul Noonly.” They shook hands, Paul tried not to think of how Davey’s palm gripped his skin for a second too long.

For a while they were content. Content to drink and listen and take in each other's presence, to sneak glances at the others face, squinting to see true features through the haze of the lowlight and the alcohol. If only their desperate thirst was satisfied with only that, but alas, man is anything, if not ravenous.

“Don’t usually see too many army men around here, what’s your business?” Paul finally asked.

“Oh I’m just here for a little, a short leave I was so graciously given, ya’ know?” Paul laughed, taking another sip from his wine, he never was one to take a stiff drink.

“Couldn’t relate if I tried.” Davey smiled at that, a grin that deepened the lines around his mouth, and made Paul smile too.

“I feel that. I could never keep a girl because of all the moving around the Navy has been making me do.” The piano jeered, making Paul suddenly self conscious on how his body leaned into the other man’s words. He repositioned himself to sit back more in his seat, a blush filling his face.

“Besides,” Davey looked Paul up and down, scanning every crease of his clothes and wrinkle of his skin with just that glance before his eyes averted back to his glass. “I’ve found I like staying here.”

Paul laughed, how many times he’s heard that said.

“It’s a good town, good to be single in.” He winked, the wine speaking its mouth more than his own.

“Oh it sure is! Beauties all about.” Davey gestured with a large sweep of his arm, but his eyes never left Paul.

“What about you? Girlfriend? Wife?” Paul snorted in response, absentmindedly opening his forgotten book and flipping through familiar pages he forgot to make his place in.

“I never had time for a wife.” He said, closing the book.

“Never?”

“Nope.”

Davey leaned back in his chair and flicked open his lighter, lighting his cigarette.

“Hey,” he looked up, “you mind lending me a light?” Paul swore he had one, but it seemed to have disappeared straight from his pocket.

Davey shook his head and reached for the lighter, when a smile spread across his face, he looked up to Paul, his eyes shining with something boyish.

“Davey?”

“Yeah yeah, I got a light for you.”

With that, he grabbed Paul by the back of his neck, pulling him until the tips of their cigarettes touched, a light igniting from their connection. Paul gaped as Davey pulled away, as he took a long drawl and breathed out the smoke through lips Paul hoped he’d see pursed for just a little while longer.

They didn’t continue talking, but the touches didn’t stop. The clutching at arms and grappling with jackets slipping off of shoulders, pulling clothes from tensed muscles as the younger found himself incompacitated with a drink he didn’t remember swallowing.

Paul let him lay on his shoulder, putting out the light of the dropped cigarette butt with a quick crush under his heel. The darkness enveloped them, the piano got quieter and quieter, the bar and its crowds disappearing into the night, until neither man could tell if it was all in his head or not.

But then it came, the pressure of joined skin, the novelist bringing himself to his friend’s lips only to be consumed entirely with a hunger prey often succumbed to.

The way they kissed, that quick spark of loneliness dissolved as suddenly as the ash, ash that got pounded into the pavement to be forgotten under the day to day man’s heel. A connection made so quickly all others would call it fake, a non sincere form of love and affection.

Surely, they imagined that as well.

[caniruineverything]

i wanna taste her lips (yeah, 'cause they taste like you)

Chapter 2: and does (s)he even know how (s)he hurt me?

Chapter Summary: Jack sees Katherine and Davey kissing in the park, and leaves, upset. Crutchie notices, and talks to him, helping Jack understand who he really is in love with.

Jack grabbed his sketchbook and pencil, then dashed out the door. He had seen a really nice view from a fire escape the other day, and wanted to draw it. Inspiration really did strike at any moment. He raced through the streets all the way to his destination, panting by the time he got there. He clambered up the abandoned fire escape (because he didn't always respect the law, but he didn't want to trespass on the property of innocent people) and sat down, staring at the wide expanse of the city. His city.

He sketched different perspectives for hours, getting caught up in the gorgeous view. His sketchbook had gotten much more filled up by the end of the day, full of sketches of buildings, clouds, people, cars, and whatever else he could find. It was near one o'clock when he stood up, hungry, and pulled a few coins out of his pocket, ready for lunch. After getting a bit of food, he walked around, enjoying the familiar sights and sounds of lower Manhattan.

He'd been walking around for maybe a half hour when he noticed Katherine and Davey sitting on a bench in a park, the one all three of them frequented. He was about to walk over and ask if he could sketch them, when he noticed how close they were sitting. They were pressed together, no space in between them despite the summer heat. He ducked out of the way, hoping they hadn't seen him. He got lucky (or unlucky, depending on how you see it), and they continued to talk, uninterrupted.

As he watched, the both looked down at their laps, seemingly embarrassed about something. Then, they glanced around, as if checking if anyone was watching them. Davey glanced at Katherine, said something to her, and she turned to him. As he watched, stomach sinking as it occurred to him what was going to happen, they leaned in, lips meeting tentatively. They were kissing. Well, if he'd needed any proof that he was screwed, there it was.

He turned away, not able to stomach watching them anymore, not wanting to see the two lovebirds kiss over and over again, and definitely not wanting to see the lovestruck expressions they were most definitely wearing. He left, running away faster than he'd run to the fire escape earlier, day ruined by the two people he had hoped would never betray him.

Because he left, he never saw Katherine and Davey pull away, blushing, and laugh, clearly embarrassed. He never heard Davey say,

"Thanks, Kath. I needed that. Good practice, and I'm definitely gay."

"You're welcome. And I know I'm bi, but not attracted to you, don't worry." He laughed, then looked thoughtful,

"You definitely aren't in love with him, right?" Katherine laughed, and reassured him,

"Nope. You know who I like." He smiled, clearly happy that he wouldn't have to share his crush, and told her,

"Yep. I do. Go for it, I think she likes you too."

"If I do, you'd better tell him. He's so in love with you, even Race can see it."

"Kath!"

"Just saying!" Their laughter continued for a long while, both red in the face and beaming.

Jack entered the lodging, tears in his eyes and red in the face, though for a much different reason than Katherine and Davey were. He lowered his head as he walked through the crowded area, trying to get to his bed without anyone seeing his face. No such luck, though, as halfway there, Crutchie called out to him.

"Jack? Why's ya back so early? I though ya s'posed to be gone for longer." Jack really didn't want to talk, but he knew brushing Crutchie off would hurt him, and he couldn't bear to be the one hurting the younger boy. Keeping his lead low so Crutchie couldn't see his eyes, he responded,

"I'm fine, Crutchie. I's just. . . tired, that's all." He could see Crutchie get worried.

"Are ya sick? Ya never get tired so early." Jack sighed, not wanting to talk anymore than he had before.

"No, Crutch, I's not sick. Just lemme sleep, please?" Jack wasn't one to say please much, so when he did say it, every newsie knew to listen.

"Okay. Lemme know if ya need anything, 'kay?" Jack felt a surge of gratefulness for Crutchie's kindness. He said as much, and walked over to his bed, burying his head in his pillow and letting angry tears slip out silently into the fabric, his sadness heard by no one in the empty room. How could Davey betray him like that, kissing the girl he was in love with? How could Katherine kiss someone else, even after what they had on the rooftop? He knew it wasn't fair, love had no rules, but it still hurt like hell.

He had no idea how much time had passed before he heard quiet footsteps accompanied by the scrape of a crutch.

"Hey, Jack, I, uh, broughtcha dinner. If ya want it, that is." His heart, though slightly cracked, swelled for his brother. He sat up, he saw Crutchie try to hide his double take at Jack's red, swollen eyes. He didn't say anything, though, just set the half-full plate down on the bed, careful not to spill anything.

Jack reluctantly picked up the somewhat clean fork next to the food and began to eat, realizing after a couple bites how hungry he actually was. Nothing like heartbreak to build up an appetite, he supposed. When he was done, he set the plate aside, and glanced up at Crutchie, who was hesitating by his bed.

"What's wrong, squirt?" he inquired, using his affectionate nickname for the boy as a way of thanking him. Crutchie visibly wavered, then asked:

"Jack, is ya okay?" Jack was taken aback, though he tried to hide it. He hadn't been expecting that, though of course, Crutchie had always cared deeply about those close to him.

"Yeah, bud, I's fine. Why'd ya ask?"

"Ya just seems so. . . sad lately. Is. . . is it me? Did I do somethin' wrong?" Jack paled, his heart hurting at the notion that Crutchie could feel responsible for this.

"No, no, no! Ya did nuttin' wrong. You's the bestest brother I coulda asked for." He wasn't the best with words, but he was desperate to make sure his brother wasn't blaming himself.

"Okay," Crutchie relented hesitantly, "but will ya tell me what's botherin' ya? Please? I hates to see ya like this." Jack figured he should tell someone, get it off his chest and all that, and who better to tell than Crutchie?

"I just. . . Ya know Kath and Davey have been hangin' out lots?" Crutchie nodded, attentively listening as he always did. "Well, I saw 'em kissin' earlier. I thought Katherine loved me, but she and Davey, they's in love. I's just hurt, I guess, and I needs time." Crutchie had been following along but took pause at something Jack had said.

"Wait, you's in love with Katherine? I's sure ya were in love with- " He cut himself off at that, leaving Jack very confused.

"Whaddaya mean? Course I's in love with Katherine. We kissed in the Penthouse during the strike, remember?" Poor Crutchie just looked even more confused.

"No, you's definitely in love with Davey. Have ya seen the way ya look at 'im?" Jack just stared at Crutchie. Is he insane? Do I need to take him to a doctor?

"Crutch, there is no way I's in love with David Jacobs. It's always been Katherine. I'm not a queer." When Crutchie looked hurt at his last sentence, he amended, "Not that that's a problem, ya know I support Race and Spot. I just, I likes girls, ya know?" Crutchie nodded reluctantly.

"Jack, ya know ya can like boys and girls, right?" Jack scoffed, of course he knew that. But he didn't, right? No, of course not.

"Yeah, I knows that. Doesn't mean I like both of 'em, though." Crutchie mumbled something to himself then, which sounded suspiciously like:

"Oh, God, he's in denial."

"Hey! I ain't in denial!" Crutchie paled, then denied saying anything.

"I didn't say nothin'!" Jack knew he had, in fact, said something, but he decided to let that go. He had more important things to worry about.

"Fine. So if I was attracted to both genders, and I ain't sayin' I is, why do ya think I's in love with Davey?" Crutchie looked somewhat placated with this, and launched into his defense.

"Okay, ya always seem happier to see 'im than ya do Kath. Ya also never stop starin' at him when ya think he don't notice." Jack spluttered, then composed himself.

" I don't do none of that." Crutchie shot back a quick,

"Yeah ya do."

"I do not."

"Do too."

"Do not"

"Do too."

"Okay, fine, maybe I do." Jack said it both because he remembered that, yeah, he kind of did do that, and because he wanted this back and forth nonsense to stop.

"Yes! Ya also is way more protective of 'im than ya are for Katherine."

"Dat's 'cuz Kath can 'andle herself. Ya know that. That one don't count."

"Yeah it does. Davey can handle 'imself too. Ya just don't wanna admit it." Jack conceded that point, then realized Crutchie was gearing himself up for more. How can there possible be more?

"Ya want to draw 'im more then ya wanna draw anyone else. It's 'cuz ya like starin' at 'im."

"What? I do not!"

"Like starin' at him, or draw him the most? Look in yer sketchbook if ya need more proof." Jack idly flipped through it. Crutchie was right, he did have more drawings of Davey than of anyone else.

"He's just. . . easiest to draw. It's good practice."

"Use whatever excuse ya need."

"Hey!" But Crutchie was moving on to more, somehow. Was there some truth to what he's saying? He didn't want it to be true, but there was some part of him that almost did.

"Lastly, ya always make some sorta excuse ta touch 'im. You's always touchin' him somehow. Oh, and, the way ya look at him, like he strung the stars in the sky. That's the gayest shit I ever seen."

"Hey! Language!" Then the rest of it occurred to him. "Wait, what? I do not look at 'im like that.”

"Yeah, ya do."

"No, I don't."

"Yeah, ya-"

"No. I's in love with Katherine Plumber. Davey is my best friend, and I's completely fine with that."

"You's jealous 'cuz he was kissin' her and not you. Do ya really want to kiss her?"

"Yeah!" Crutchie leveled him with a look so severe, he began to actually think about it. Soft lips on his own, tasking of sunlight and ink, and smelling of spices and leather. Wait- leather? Where was the perfume? He pulled away in confusion, only to be faced with Davey's freckled face smiling shyly back at him. His heart skipped a beat, he was just so cute! What? Cute? Davey? The other boy ducked his head, cheeks dusted with pink, and Jack felt as though his whole body was made of butterflies. Fuck it, he thought, and leaned in again.

Crutchie was watching him closely, he realized, after he had come out of his imagination. He sat there for a moment, dumbfounded by his realization. Crutchie just smiled, proud at his work being successful.

"Holy shit. I's in love with Davey."

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

[wrestlingfaves]

Royal Rumble Marathon: 1998

The Rumble has made it to 1997.

Warning for past Rumbles.

The undercard:

Goldust (accompanied by Marlena) vs Hunter Hearst Helmsley (accompanied by Curtis Hughes) for the Intercontinental title. Hunter wins via the Pedigree. Hughes is no Chyna.

Rumble hype vignettes form Bret Hart and Mankind.

Farooq (Ron Simmons, accompanied by the Nation of Domination and other individuals) vs Ahmed Johnson. Ahmed wins via DQ and brawls with the Nation afterwards. This was an early version of the Nation of Domination that featured PG-13 and Crush.

Vader vs the Undertaker. Paul Bearer shows up mid-match and gets pushed around by Taker. Taker wins.

Rumble hype vignettes from Steve Austin (no longer the Ringmaster, he is now “Stone Cold”) and Davey Boy Smith who states he’s going to win the Rumble as he is “bizarre”.

A six-man tag team match features the following wrestlers from AAA: Hector Garza, Perro Aguayo, and El Canek vs Jerry Estrada, Heavy Metal, and Fuerza Guerrera. An attempt to counter the luchadors of WCW or an addition due to the pay per view taking place in Texas? The team of Aguayo, Garza, and Canek won. Unsurprisingly, this is the most athletic and fastest-paced match of the undercard.

Once again the Rumble is not the final bout of the pay-per-view. While I would normally agree that the World title match should end the ppv, the Rumble is the exception. The Rumble should always go last.

The entrants in order of appearance:

Crush (accompanied by Clarence Mason)

Ahmed Johnson

Fake Razor Ramon

Phineas Godwinn (accompanied by Hillbilly Jim)

“Stone Cold” Steve Austin

Bart Gunn

Jake Roberts

Davey Boy Smith

Pierroth

The Sultan (Rikishi) (accompanied by the Iron Shiek)

Mil Mascaras

Hunter Hearst Helmsley

Owen Hart (accompanied by his Slammy trophy)

Goldust (accompanied by Marlena)

Cybernetico

Marc Mero (accompanied by Sable)

Latin Lover

Farooq

Savio Vega

Jesse James (aka Road Dog)

Bret Hart (Steve Austin’s “Oh Crap” face when Bret’s music was fantastic

Jerry Lawler

Fake Diesel (aka Kane)

Terry Funk (3 months from now Funk will be headlining ECW’s first ppv – Barely Legal)

Rocky Maivia (pre-the Rock but not yet drowned out by “Rocky Sucks” chants)

Mankind

Flash Funk

Vader

Henry Godwinn (accompanied by Hillbilly Jim)

Undertaker

First-time Rumblers: Ahmed Johnson, Phineas Godwinn

Surprise Entrants: Pierroth, Mil Mascaras, Cybernetico, Latin Lover, Terry Funk

“Oops! I ‘accidentally’ eliminated my friend” spot: Owen eliminates Davey Boy

Commentator joins the Rumble: Jerry Lawler, first time this spot is used in the Rumble

Winner: Steve Austin (though Austin had been eliminated by Bret but the refs didn’t see it). Bret has a hissy and asks Vince when he’s going to do something about it – one of the few references to Vince’s actual role in the company before he adopted the “Mr. McMahon” character.

Most Eliminations: Steve Austin with a total of 10, tying the previous record held by Hulk Hogan.

Quickest Eliminations: Jerry Lawler, Fake Razor Ramon

Highlight of the Rumble: Bret vs Steve (the pair has around 4 minutes to themselves in the ring and then focus on each other for the rest of the Rumble)

Feuds in the Rumble: Bret vs Steve, Mankind vs Terry Funk, Hunter vs Goldust, Ahmed vs the Nation), Vader vs Taker

The Road To Wrestlemania: Bret vs Steve

The WWE’s roster was thin at this point as 5 of the 30 participants were not members of the roster and another 6 participants pulled double-duty on the card.

Shawn Michaels (accompanied by Jose Lothario) vs Psycho Sid for the World championship. Shawn defeats Sid to regain the championship but will forfeit the title soon afterwards due to “losing his smile”.

Wrestlers and others who have passed on: Jacques Rougeau Sr., Crush, Vader, Paul Bearer, Hector Garza, Perro Aguayo, Fake Razor Ramon (Rick Bognar), Davey Boy Smith, Iron Shiek, Owen Hart, Terry Funk, Jose Lothario, Pat Patterson

Total number of deceased individuals: 13 (up 3 from the previous Rumble)

[vnfckwithable]

BIFF !!! BIFF !!! BIFF !!! ☝️☝️

[heliads]

Overheard and Undeserved

Based on this request: “reader and Davey are BEST FRIENDS, and they both secretly like each other, but one night after a long day of sellin’ papes, the reader overheard Davey talkin to the fellas being like “No y/n is way too clingy! And lowkey kinda of annoying.” In an attempt to hide his feelings. reader feels terrible about themselves and decides to distant themselves but then Daveys all like “Hey, why are they being so distant.” And then they have this big confrontation and it blows up to them revealing feelings for each other.”

a/n i love this and didn’t answer it in the inbox so i could put both parts together lol

masterlist

You are leaning up against a brick wall, just starting to feel the heat of the morning sun through your shirt, when you finally see him. A bag full of newspapers is looped loosely around your arm- you got out here a while ago, but you figured you’d wait for your selling partner to show up. 

At last, he’s here, glancing over at his younger brother every few seconds to make sure he’s not going to run off or potentially become an even stronger version of Jack Kelly than he already is. At some point, Davey Jacobs is going to have to give in to the truth that everyone already knows- there simply is no containing Les, no matter how much you wish you could. 

You raise an eyebrow at Davey when he finally makes his way over to you. “Took your time getting here. The morning’s almost over.”

Davey rolls his eyes. “It’s barely dawn. Most of the customers aren’t even awake yet.”

You grin. “Ah, but we are. That’s the difference.”

Les chooses this moment to pipe in helpfully. “Davey was awake earlier, but he took forever to get ready so he could fix his hair or something.”

The younger boy scrunches up his nose as if he couldn’t possibly understand why someone would want to spend longer than a second on his appearance. Davey reaches into your bag to grab a pape so he can swat Les on the shoulder. 

“Hey, keep that to yourself. And I didn’t take that long.”

Les scampers away, both to avoid the blow and go talk to some of the other newsies.

Davey looks abashedly over at you. “I’m going to kill him one day. It might be soon.”

You laugh at the blush starting to color his cheeks. “If you did, we’d be out of our best source of entertainment. And you’d better be paying for that pape, the things aren’t cheap.”

Davey gives you a look before tossing the newspaper back to you. “I’m going to go get my supply. Don’t leave without me.”

You watch as he heads around the corner, money already in hand. You don’t know how to tell Davey that you could never, would never leave without him, because even though he’s supposed to be your best friend you still catch yourself running his name through your head late at night when you should be sleeping. 

You’ve been crushing on Davey for a while now, despite your best intentions. You can’t help it, though- Davey might be the only person here who makes you feel good, like you’re someone worth seeing as more than just another newsie. The other boys at the Lodging House are wonderful, of course, and they’ve looked out for you when no one else would, but they never make your heart skip a beat like Davey. 

Sometimes, like today, you could almost kid yourself into thinking that he could like you back. Davey seems closer to you than any of the other newsies, even Jack, despite the fact that they worked together on the strike. Time and time again, he says that you’re his best friend, the one person he can turn to when everything gets bad. And, for a bunch of kids who are one step away from the streets if they aren’t already there, bad things happen almost all the time. It’s a good thing that you’ve got Davey to pull you out.

Davey’s got his papes by now, and is jogging back over to you. He grins when he reaches you, looking out at the city in front of you. “Looks like it’s going to be a long day. You ready?”

You smile back at him. “Always am.”

Davey was right- it was a long day. Either people were just as down on their luck as you were, or the headlines just weren’t that interesting no matter how much you embellished them, but it’s late by the time you finally finish your sales. You say goodbye to Davey at the door of the Lodging House, and retreat up to your bunk to take a break for a while.

It’s nice to have a moment to yourself. Once you’re sure that no one else is looking, you rummage around in the bottom of your bag for the last pape left. You’ve gotten into a habit of saving one newspaper for yourself, and reading it at the end of the day so you can get a better handle on what’s going on in the city around you.

Unsurprisingly, this habit originated because of Davey, another impact he’s had on you. A while ago, you started getting self-conscious of the way he always seemed to use words you and the rest of the newsies never understood, probably because he hadn’t had to drop out of school to get a job when you had. Regardless, you didn’t like the feeling of him thinking you were dumb, so you started flipping through the papes to learn a few things that you could say back to him.

At first, it was practically impossible to get through a paragraph or two without hitting a string of syllables that you didn’t get, but now, you’re reading easily. Also, seeing the impressed look on Davey’s face when you casually bring up a current event from the previous day’s newspaper is worth a thousand hours spent stumbling over political columns and a garden variety of editorials.

By the time you finish the paper, it’s practically impossible to ignore the restless pang of hunger in your stomach, so you tuck the newspaper back inside your bag and decide to head downstairs to grab a bite to eat. Your bunk is in a room on the second floor, so you walk towards the rickety stairs without a second thought.

You descend carefully, one hand on the faded railing as if the grip of it beneath your fingers will stop the whole flimsy structure from falling to bits before the year is out. The rest of the newsies have come in by now, and the whole first floor of the Lodging House is full of friendly conversation, almost as warm as the glow from the lamps clustered in the corners and swinging from the rafters.

Your gaze naturally gravitates towards a cluster of your friends in the corner. Surprisingly, Davey is among them, even though he usually heads home around this time to check in with his parents and make sure Les gets to bed before too late. His back is to you, so he doesn’t see you climb down the stairs.

You’re about to go greet him when you hear your name tossed into the mix. It’s Race, asking where you are, although it doesn’t seem like an innocent question. Instead, it seems pointed at Davey. Curious, you tuck yourself into the shadows of the stairwell to listen.

Race is grinning at Davey now. “Where’s Y/N, Dave? I would have thought she’d be with you. Seems like you guys are practically joined at the hip.”

He wiggles his eyebrows, and the whole group of boys starts to laugh.

Davey holds up his hands. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. I don’t know where she is, and I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jojo leans forward now, still faintly chuckling. “Oh, sure you do. Come on, are you going to confess it or what? One of you has to like each other, there’s no reason you’d be so close. Is it you?”

Davey rolls his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. Y/N’s a friend of mine, just like the rest of you are.”

Romeo pretends to gag. “If one of these boys was hanging off of me the way you seem to chase Y/N, I’d have to speak to Jack.”

Davey gives Romeo a look. “That’s absurd. Besides, it’s not like this is even my fault.”

Race folds his arms across his chest. “And what does that mean?”

Davey spreads his hands. “It’s not me who’s being so close, it’s Y/N. Honestly, she’s so clingy, and lowkey kind of annoying. I swear, I can’t get one day without her tracking me down like a bloodhound.”

Your stomach drops in your chest. Davey thinks you’re annoying? You swear that it hasn’t been just you, that he’s been just as happy to see you every morning, but could that be true? When’s the last time he approached you, anyway? Thinking back on it now, it’s always you who starts the conversation, always you who makes the first joke or finds him. No wonder he’s complaining, he’s probably been trying to distance himself from you all this time.

You slip away from the conversation before you have to hear anything else. You’ve heard a lot of things over the years, a lot of insults, but nothing has cut so deep as this. You love Davey, as much as you hate to admit it now, and hearing him say that he can’t stand to be around you is crushing. 

Well, if distance is what he wants, it’s what he’ll get. The next morning, you don’t wait up for Davey, but go ahead and start selling. You don’t see him that morning, or that afternoon, and when he hangs around the Lodging House after hours again, you make sure your paths never cross. You’ve already given him your heart, and he didn’t want it, but at least now you can give him one last gift: your silence.

Some selfish part of you hoped that by separating yourself from Davey, it would be easier to get over yourself, but it isn’t. Your mind is like a faulty phonograph, stuck looping the same sound on repeat of Davey saying that he doesn’t want to be around you. It refuses to leave your head, twisting and turning through your mind until you’re walking down the street in the same rhythm of the cadence of his words.

The worst part comes later, a few days into your self-imposed exile, when Davey tracks you down. It would have been considerably better for both of you if he could have accepted his little victory and just stayed away, but no, he has to kick you when you’re down. Davey finds you on a Thursday afternoon, when you’re tired from selling papes all morning and you forget to walk away until after he spots you.

You move to turn down another corner, to lose yourself in the throngs of people until he accepts that you’re not there anymore, but it’s too late.

Davey’s already at your side, a frown curving onto his face. “Why are you trying to avoid me?”

His voice is blunt, and makes you wince. “What are you talking about?”

Your voice is too light, an obvious lie. Anyone would be able to see through it, and Davey’s lived through enough of your days to know the falsehood for what it is.

“Don’t give me that. You’ve been distant, and I want to know why.”

You’re not going to say anything about the conversation you overheard. You’re going to remain calm and in control, and not let anything slip.

“I thought that’s what you wanted.”

Fuck.

Davey’s brow furrows. “What are you talking about?”

You take a breath, trying to clear your head. “I have a bad habit of being clingy, I guess. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t bothering you.”

Davey shakes his head. “Y/N, you’ve never worried about that before. What changed?”

You squint at him. “So you admit that I’ve been clingy?”

Davey tilts his head to the side, exasperation playing upon his face. “You’re not clingy, and you know that. You’re my best friend, and I’d never want you to feel like you’re a burden.”

A broken half-sigh escapes your lips before you can draw it back. “Then why did you say it?”

Davey’s eyes widen, a realization flashing before him even before he can ask the question. “Say what?”

You look away. “I heard you, you know. That other day, when you were talking to Race and the rest. You said that you couldn’t stand me, that I never left you alone. I figured I’d do you a favor and let you have what you wanted.”

Davey’s voice is quiet. “And what is it that I want?”

You can sense him drifting closer to you, but you refuse to look up. “To be rid of me. To stop having to deal with someone clingy.”

His hand is on your arm, gentle as he’s always been. “That’s not what I want. I want you.”

Startled, you look up at last, which gives you the perfect view of the moment Davey seems to let go of all his doubts, when he steps forward and kisses you. For a second, it feels like you’re falling, so far deep in yourself and him that you might never be able to drag yourself back out.

Then he’s breaking away, and you remember how to breathe again. A thousand questions rise to your head, but you only manage to say one: “You like me?”

Davey chuckles. “Yeah, Y/N, I like you. Turns out I’m really bad at saying it. Race and the others knew it, and they were trying to get me to admit it that day. I knew you were in the Lodging House and I didn’t want to expose myself, so I panicked and said that the reason I couldn’t seem to leave you alone was your fault, not mine. That couldn’t have been further from the truth.”

You shake your head slowly. “All that was so you could avoid talking about the fact that you had a crush on me?”

Davey has the grace to look abashed. “Alright, it wasn’t the best decision on my part. To be fair, I was under considerable scrutiny.”

He pauses for a moment, then adds: “Like the guy in the paper the other day. Dorothea Livingston’s article, I know you read it.”

You stare at him. “You knew?”

Davey smiles as if remembering a fond memory. “Yeah, I went up to find you one day and you didn’t notice me because you were paging through the national news section. It was so cute.”

You swat him in the shoulder. “It’s creepy to watch people, you know.”

Davey holds up a hand. “Hey, speak for yourself. We got ourselves into this mess because you were eavesdropping on my conversation.”

You look indignantly at him. “We got ourselves into this mess because you couldn’t figure out how to tell me you liked me without bashing me to the other fellas.”

Davey looks like he’s about to argue, then leans forward to kiss you quickly. “Maybe. I like you, by the way. I like you a lot.”

You beam at him. “I like you too, Davey.” Truer words have never been said.

requested by @justasimphere​, my beloved anon!!

newsies tag list: @lovesanimals0000​

[harlem-to-delancy]

I can’t stop thinking about Spot and Davey being the best gay friends so here’s some headcanons for ya

- Spot initially likes Davey (platonically) because he’s the only newsie who’s not initially afraid of him

- Davey likes Spot because he’s the first newsie he can be friends with (besides Jack of course) where he doesn’t feel like an outsider, because Spot is (at least in Manhattan) an outsider as well

- their friendship starts after the rally, Davey feels betrayed by Jack and Spot feels Pissed off by Jack and Davey doesn’t know where to go or what to do because he doesn’t know if he’s welcome with the other Manhattan newsies without Jack.

- So Spot asks Davey if he’s still planning on going through with the strike even if Jacks truly abandoned them, and Davey doesn’t even fucking hesitate to say yes

- because he’s in too deep now and he knows what’s right and what’s wrong and personal feelings about a boy who just kind of almost unknowingly broke your heart Don’t Matter when you’re fighting something larger than yourself

- and Davey is Always fighting something larger than himself

- So Spot offers him to come back over to Brooklyn with him and his boys while they figure out next plans, and allow the Manhattan newsies (and Jack) some time to cool off

- because if the Brooklyn newsies are pissed? Then the Manhattan newsies are pissed

- at first Davey’s real quiet and contemplative and let’s be real kind of sulking because his only friend (and kind of crush) just betrayed him and their whole cause, the cause he dragged Davey into

- and Davey feels alone and confused and Spot is Not Great with Emotions but he knows he needs to do Something otherwise they’ll never get anywhere with this strike because Jack was right Davey is the brains and without him and his logic nobody knows what to do (well not in a way that won’t make things worse)

- so he brings out an old chess board that he stole from some rich guy at one point

- the guy had taught him how to play and had been buttering him up for well um things, but Spot wanted nothing to do with any of that because his heart was already unfortunately set on a stupid blonde kid with a gambling problem and legs for days

- so he lashed out, yelled at the dude and stole his chess set for good measure

- on the bright side it gave him something to do now, and let him work on some of his logic skills and planning skills that it takes to be a newsies leader

- he taught all his boys how to play and so while the Manhattan boys betting and gambled on poker the Brooklyn boys betted on chess

- but no one, no one had ever beat Spot before

- so Spot bring out his chess board and shows it to Davey who looks incredibly confused

- Daveys never played chess before, he’s always wanted to, he would see kids at school playing it, but he never had a lot (or any) friends at school and his family couldn’t afford to buy a set so he never got to play

- but also this didn’t seem like the time to be playing chess you know?

- but Spot won’t drop it, says they need to get out of the strike and focus on something else for a bit, clear their heads

- so Spot teaches Davey how to play, Davey picks up the rules quickly but the actual strategy takes a little longer

- it takes him a bit to get out of his head and into the game

- but when he does, oh Boy

- Davey beats Spot for the first time after 3 practice games

- they go back and forth for winning for about 4 more games

- but then Davey starts to win them all

- all of the Brooklyn boys are watching in amazement because no one had ever beat Spot in anything let alone chess and let alone that many times in a row

- and Spot would feel a little bit upset if Davey didn’t look so damn happy for the first time since he’s seen him

- he seemed to finally forget about Jack and just be playing the game and having fun, so Spot swallows his pride (a. Very very difficult thing to do)

- it’s after about 10 games that Davey stops a game short, it’d been his turn and he was staring at the board and its pieces so intently, but then something happened

- Spot could practically see the gears in Daveys head start turning and turning and turning like he was tearing this entire game down and building it back up again from scratch

- and Spot and his boys are looking confused and mildly concerned as Davey starts randomly moving pieces over the board, without even waiting for Spots turn

- and then goes on and on until finally his face starts to beam and he actually lights up with glee

- at this point Spots starting to wonder if this boy in front of him just had some sort of breakdown but then Davey starts loudly and quickly informing him of how the strike is just like a game of chess

- he goes over every piece of the strike as if it was a chess move

- and then how they can continue the game from here, plan their next moves from here

- and Spot hates how much it makes sense, and he’s absolutely in awe of the brain of this lanky ass kid in front of him

- who’d never even played a game of chess until tonight and is now using it to figure out how to win a real life strike against the most powerful men in the city

- before their plans can really start to form though a certain cowboy shows up, and Spots ready to soak him right then and there

- but Davey sees him and Jack sees Davey and Spot can see the looks, the meanings, and he knows, so he lets him go and talk

- they come back probably 30 minutes later and tell the boys of the plans that Plumber girl had made and Spot hates that it’s probably the best chance they got

- Jack tries to get Davey to go back with him but Davey stays put says he’ll meet him there with the Brooklyn boys, and though Davey doesn’t notice cause he’s turned around, spot notices the hurt look on Jacks face (and okay maybe he takes some sort of pleasure in that)

- everything moves after that

- Spot decided he really liked Davey after seeing him stand right up to Pulitzer in his own office

- this kids got mad fight in him, even if it comes out through words rather than fists

- and that implements their friendship, regular chess games become a stable, as well as poker nights and everything under the sun

[beewithknee]

don't cry, my dear

david x angel hurt/comfort

Stress, work, be sad, eat, be nervous, rinse, repeat. That seemed to be the cycle of your life. You couldn't break it no matter how hard you tried. Life just seemed to gang up on you wherever you went. And finally you’d broken.

It was early afternoon. David was on a job and you were breaking. Painful, heaving sobs tore their way out of your chest, the tears would dry on your cheeks only to be replaced by new ones. You had David’s pillow crushed into your chest tightly, trying to breathe in his scent. For you, normality was a million miles away and you just couldn't seem to get a grip on it. You were overworked, tired, sad and just over it all. So lost in your own thoughts and pain, you didn't notice the door opening or the man that came through it. “Angel, I’m home.” The alpha called out. He got no response, odd. Maybe you were asleep. That's when he heard the sounds of crying.

Angel.

He kicked off his shoes and ran into the bedroom only to see your shaking form, laying in the middle of the bed. “Hey, shh. It’s okay Angel. I’m here now.” You recognized the voice as your boyfriends and climbed into his lap, hiding your face in his neck still crying. A warm hand came up to rub at your heaving back.“Angel, you need to breathe. You’re going to make yourself sick.” He instructed calmly and quietly. You tried taking in deep breaths but they were interrupted by whimpers and hiccups. “Shh, that's it. Good job. I'm here, it's okay.” You breathed in shakily, tears still slipping down your cheeks. David leaned back, taking a look at your wet sand red face. His frown made your lip quiver even more, feeling like you had disappointed him. “I’m sorry. I just, I don't know. I’m sorry.” You stuttered through the left over sobs. David always knew you were strong and confident, so seeing you break down like that was concerning.

“It’s okay Angel. I’m not mad or anything. Do you wanna talk about it?” He asked slowly, leaving it completely up to you. You shook your head, not trusting your voice enough to answer. He nodded back and smiled slightly. You were half choking on your gasped breaths and he needed to calm you down. “I need you to follow my breathing, you can put your hand on my chest if you want. Just in… and out. In… and out. There you go.” You did this for a few minutes until your breathing was back to normal, only interrupted by the slight hiccups. You were exhausted, crying that hard always wore you out. You didn’t say anything to David as you rested your head on his chest, directly over his heart. You just need physical comfort right now more than anything else. “I love you Angel. It’ll all be okay, I promise.” He whispered, bringing one hand around your waist and the other up into your hair. “You don't know that Davey.” You refuted, still emotional and tired.“You’re right, I don't know for sure. But I do know that good or bad; I'm going to be by your side every step of the way. Let me help take some of the burden.” His words were sweet and you knew he was being serious. David did not make promises he couldn't keep or offers he didn't mean.

You nodded into the warm man’s chest and got your eyelids drooping. Closing your eyes hurt thanks to the tears but you couldn't keep them open any longer. “Sleep Angel. I’ll wake you up later and we can have a movie night.” You smiled weakly at the thought. David was going to make sure you had a good night, even if that meant shifting so you could have some more comfort.

“I love you.” Was the last thing you heard before you fully nodded off. You would be okay.

[milophiliac]

A/N: I love writing angst <3 I hope this is okay? This is not exactly my best work... but I enjoyed writing it. Word count: 0.9k Warnings: Angst, Slight manipulation, David calling the listener "Angel" on their wedding with someone else (?)

Angel always loved David Shaw. They believed that he was their one and only. He was the one they gave their extra decorated valentines day cards to back in elementary school. Davey was their next-door neighbor and they knew each other since they were toddlers.

They’ve had a crush on him for as long as they could remember. They'd asked him out multiple times, But even after facing so much rejection, their heart yearned for him. He made them feel special. That was, until they were in university.

They were always met with rejection when it came to David. Halfway through university, they grew closer to Asher. They felt a spark of adrenaline whenever they saw him; they grew to love him, like they loved David once. Luckily for them, Ash reciprocated. He finally asked them out on graduation day.

Over time they became closer to Ash. He understood that they had emotional walls built up, and he was willing to work through their issues with them. With some time, they lost feelings for David. They loved Ash more than they once loved their alpha. David noticed how their stares no longer lingered, how they didn't make much of an effort to talk to him as much as they used to, he felt a pang in his chest when he did. He didn’t know why, but it hurt him to see them loving Asher. The pain consumed him more as time went by. Having no idea how to tell them that he was in love, he suffered in silence. Meanwhile, they were making plans with Ash for their future. Their love grew as they marked more relationship milestones.

It’d been five years. Five years since Asher asked them to be his partner in front of all their batchmates, but most importantly, David. They genuinely loved their boyfriend, yes. But sometimes, when they looked at Davey, they wondered how different life would've been if he said yes at least once.

They knew it was wrong. To love David even after he rejected them. Plus they had a partner, they knew they had to put their little childhood crush behind them. They focused more on Ash, the love of their life. He treated them right, and whenever they needed it, he supported Them in any way he could.

On their sixth anniversary, Ash took them to the spot he asked them out six years ago. The day went really well, the both of them had the time of their lives. By the end of the day, he got down on one knee and proposed. The relationship was perfect, Ash was very supportive and he loved them more than life itself.

The wedding planning took quite a while. But now, here they were, all dressed up for the wedding. “Babe, you look perfect,” Ash said as he shakily let out a sigh. David watched the both of them, and suddenly something clicked. He realized how much he actually liked- no, loved them. Seeing them stand with Asher, as his partner. His heart shattered. He walked to them when Ash was away with his side of the family. “[Name],” he looked at them. “What is it, Davey?” They smiled at him. He looked at them with pain in his eyes, “Angel, I love you.” They looked at him, not sure how to feel. “Davey, c’mon we can’t-” they looked look down. “Angel, please, just give it a chance. It just hit me. I’m sorry for what-” “Nine times David. Nine damn times, I asked you. I’ve loved you from the time we were kids,” they look at him with tears in their eyes. “You can’t do this to me, it’s not fair,” they let out a small sob. The alpha looked at them with tears in his eyes, “Angel- I promise I’ll be a good partner just trust me, please,” the last word was laced with the pain in his voice. “Davey, you’re not being nice. This isn’t fair,” they cried. “You’re being shitty. Please stop. It took me so long to love someone other than you, you’ve no clue how much Ash means to me." "He took the time to actually wait for me to be comfortable about loving another person and he just made me feel loved, Davey.” He looked down in shame. He knew he should’ve treated them better. They wiped their tears and sniffled before looking at him. “Listen David, you had several chances to say yes. But you never did. You can’t say this right now. On my wedding day. It’s not fair at all.” He nodded lightly before he looked away. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I should’ve mentioned something earlier.” He moved aside. Milo walked into to the room “Oh there you are!! Come on it’s time to get to the door, you're gonna be late-” He looked at the Alpha. “Oh hey David, what're you doin' here, come on we better get going,” he smiled as he lead them to the doors of the wedding hall.

David followed the both of them slowly before walking into the hall and taking a seat. He watched the doors open as they walked to Asher with a smile on their face. “You look absolutely stunning, babe,” Ash remarked before he said his vows. David noticed the way that Asher looked at you in pure adoration. “He’ll keep them happy,” he thought to himself. He was brought out of his thoughts when he heard. “You may now kiss the groom.” A group of people cheered as both of them smiled. He looked at them with tears in his eyes before walking out of the hall. He couldn’t watch the both of them anymore. “It’ll be okay,” he reminded himself. “It has to get better.”

© All content belongs to @milophiliac. Do not copy, translate, modify or repost any work. Reblogging however, is very much appreciated.

[racebox-of-higgars]

Newsies As Things My Friends Have Said - Part Eight

Albert: ᶦ ʷᶦˡˡ ᵏᶦᶜᵏ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵃˢˢ ˢᵒ ʰᵃʳᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵛᵉʳᵗᵉᵇʳᵃᵉ ᵖᵒᵖ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ˡᶦᵏᵉ ᵃ ᵖᵉᶻ ᵈᶦˢᵖᵉⁿˢᵉʳ

-

Jack: I just wanna put my brain in a jar. I'll proudly show it off to people like "look at my jar of electric meats!"

-

Crutchie: I wish I could not give a fuck

Crutchie: i give So Much Of A Fuck All The Time

-

Spot: godDAMMIT we can't iron fries

-

Race: I DIDNT MNWO THAT WAS QHERE EYE

Spot: mnwo

Jack: qhere

Race: wow homophobic

Race: AND ON THE LAST FAY OF PRIDE LONTH TOO

Spot: fay

Jack: lonth

-

Les: hama me chees

Davey: literally what the fuck does this mean

-

Race: y'all ever just. gay disgust

-

Davey: alas,, suffer

-

Jack: anyway i'm stupid, moving on

-

Race: I W A N Y

Race: WABT

Race: FUCK

Spot: wany

Jack: wabt

Race: himjphobic

Spot: hiMjPhoBIc

-

Crutchie: THEYRE SO IN LOV

Crutchie: AND IM S ONF T ABOUTBIT

-

Race: y'all every just be begging your brain to let you sleep like. in tears. pl,, plea se,,,, when sleep???? and your brain is just like. *sound of a potato rotating*

-

Jack: Capitalism is the bane of my existence

-

Davey: I AM BUT A STUPID LITTLE BOY WITH A STUPID LITTLE BRAIN

-

Race: ah yes, the good ol' scream n stral

-

Albert: This is a technique I like to call the good ol' Spin n Yeet

-

Race: swiggity swag taco bell in a bag

-

Katherine: There's os much representation in this pirate crew of milfs i'm crying

-

Elmer, sobbing: my soup exploded in the microwave

-

Race: I'm in spain without the w

Race: Wait

-

Crutchie: I just don't have,, legs

Jack: n O

-

Albert: I swear to god I will crush your nuts

Race: Jokes on you god nerfed me and I have no nuts to smash

Jack, having just been kicked in the balls: I wouldn't consider that a bad thing

-

Race: Homophobic

A Straight: How is that homophobic??

Race: You are inconveniencing me, A Gay

-

Katherine: Too much is happening there is Several Brain

-

Davey: Please don't rub my bones

-

Race: Jesus, he's cool, Jesus is my bitch

-

Jack, longingly: What is family?

-

Race: I got to show off my mad feet skills

Davey: Do I want to ask?

Race: No

-

Elmer: Time to get my blood good and frothy!

-

Race: The pussy wagon has left

Race: That felt wrong I formally apologise

-

Race, during a thunderstorm: Clapping them cloud bussies

Davey: Your speaking rights have been revoked

-

Race: You can't beat a Robin Hood furry costume!

-

Race: My list of disorders is longer than your dick!

Davey: I don't know whether I should be concerned for you or impressed by how good that insult was

Race: Both

-

Race: Who says fist fights and running from the cops can't be romantic? Spot: That's true love right there, war crimes

Race: Correct

Race: So,,, wanna go commit war crimes with me?

-

Race: Bussy full of beans???

Race: He put,,, he put beans in his bussy????

Elmer: What's a bussy?

-

Jack: I'm a fruit, put me in some granola

-

Albert: TELL ME WHAT'S IN YOU YOU OATY FUCK

-

Jack: You can't have abs and support Trump, that's just homophobic

-

Katherine: Y'all ever just,,, cavetown but make it lesbian??

-

Jack: It's pride month I'm legally required to love myself for this month only

-

Katherine: Man, sometimes I get sad and just milf

-

Sarah: how talk to girl girl pretty

Albert: Just do better??? learn to lesbian???

-

Katherine: I got my milf chocolates!

Jack: How are your milf chocolates?

Katherine: creamy

-

Spot: Oh, it's a strap

Albert: Famous last words

-

Jack: self reflection is OUT, being your friends personal fun house mirror is IN

-

uh yeah i'm sorry

@angelslibrary

[jubilantwriter]

Jaspvid Week 2021: Day 1 - Changes

(AO3)  (2020)  (V-Day)

@jaspvid-week​

Familiar Faces, Worn Out Places

Summary: It's only been one year since the supposed end of the world, but David and Jasper still linger to wander these quiet lands. So then, it shouldn't come as a surprise that they stumble into a place that's too familiar and close to home than they like. David's heart squeezes as the memories bombard him from every which way.

Just how much has changed? And how prepared is he to face these changes headfirst?

Word Count:  3583

FHAKJSLDFJAK WHAT A WAY TO START, ONE DAY LATE ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGH ALRTH-

////

They didn’t think their journey would lead them back here.  There’s something eerie with seeing a town they recognize still look the same but also… not.

Sleepy Peaks was never meant to be this sleepy, he thinks.  David reaches for Jasper’s hand, squeezing it tightly as his eyes skirt from one store to another.  The wind rustles the doors left ajar, wood smacking against wood as familiar, old stores creak from the damage they’ve sustained.  

Time has passed too slowly for it to have only been a year.  Has it only been a year?  Maybe a bit longer?  It feels like ages since they’ve shared that chocolate in an attempt to celebrate Valentine’s day.  Their worn boots crush the shattered glass still speckled across the ground, windows shattered like so many other stores, and yet, seeing it in a place from their childhood?

It feels wrong.  

“Davey…”  Jasper looks over at David, concern clear on his features as they stand in what remains of the sleepy town.  “Maybe we should head out somewhere else.”

“No.”  Despite his misgivings, he wants to continue forward.  There’s things he wants to see.  Things he… wants to see one last time before moving on.  “There might be some useful things left over, you know?  We gotta look around some more.”

“If you say so.”  Still, Jasper never drops that look of concern.  “Just tell me when you’ve had enough, alright?  We can always bounce if it becomes too much.”

“Yeah…”  He smiles cheerfully despite their memories slowly creeping in from years long since passed.  It’s strange - they never really explored this town much as children, despite stopping in it often before being dropped off at that old camp.  But as they approach the rickety General Store, the sound of excited, chattering boys echoes in his mind.

”Jasp!  Ma said we can get some candy!”

“Radical!”

“David, I said one candy bar each, not everything at the counter!”

“Heeey, I remember this place.”  Jasper whistles as the ransacked store sits full of memories before them.  “You tried to shoplift from here once!”

“Jasp!”  A bright, embarrassed blush raises to David’s cheeks as his criminal past is brought up.  “You know it was just a phase!”

“Suuure.”  He grins easily as he steps into the store, head turning this way and that before he makes his way to the counter.  Another whistle escapes him as he plants his hands on the counter.  “Damn, this used to feel so tall when we were kids.”

David walks to his side and imagines a pair of small hands barely reaching the top of the counter.  “Yeah, we could barely see over it.”

“You used to think that since you couldn’t see the cashier, the cashier couldn’t see you when you stashed a bar in your pockets.”

“Really?  You’re still going on about that?”

“Really.”  Jasper waggles his eyebrows as David laughs.  “Your mom got so mad when you got caught each and every time.  You’d think you’d learn after three straight years of getting caught, but nooo, you had to be Mr. Bad to the Bone.”

“Stop it!”  David playfully shoves him as Jasper snickers.  “Like you were any better!”

“Hey!  Between the both of us, I’m pretty sure I was the goody-two shoes.”

“Says the master of the puppy dog eyes.”  David shakes his head as he strolls over to the empty shelves, hoping to spot something overlooked.  “You could give the cashier the saddest eyes, and he’d give you a free candy bar.”

“I bet I could still pull it off if I tried hard enough.”  With that, Jasper sidles up to David and bats his eyelashes at his boyfriend.  “I bet you’d give me a free candy bar if you were the cashier!”

David groans guiltily before pushing Jasper’s face away.  “...I’d at least pay for it first with my own money.”  Jasper’s boisterous laugh echoes in the empty store as they continue following the ghosts of their childhood through the aisles.  Nothing seems to be left behind, even as they check the broken-into backroom and behind the cashier’s counter.

Nothing remains.  A store that once housed the goodies and rewards for a well-spent summer now sits haunted with the memories of the two men still standing in its shell.  David takes Jasper’s hand and squeezes it once, before looking over to him with a strained smile.

“It’s been a year anyways, it’s no surprise that it’s empty.”

Jasper only nods along before tugging him out of the store.  They pass by familiar storefronts, ghosts of their former selves taking peeks through the broken glass as they whisper about the newest, coolest gadgets, or the delicious smelling scents coming from the restaurants and diners.  Lumps and bumps line the road as the pair traverse on the old asphalt, the road cracking here and there from whatever disaster may have struck this town.  Earthquakes perhaps?  David eyes the sides of buildings blackened by forces that could be man made or naturally caused.  Fires too, it seems.  

How many of the residents died?  How many escaped?  Sweat beads at the base of his neck as they approach the entrance to the woods, the road leading into it impeded by fallen trees and debris.  It’s a good thing they’ve long lost the use of cars by now.  They climb over the trees and carefully trek along the road, watching out for potholes and largely uneven parts of the road.  Tree roots have managed to grow underneath the asphalt, lifting chunks of it high enough to trip over.  A year of overall disuse has the entire road littered with fallen leaves, branches, and countless coverings of debris.  Jasper grunts as he trips over a well hidden crack, caught just barely in time by David as he straightens himself out.

“Christ,” he grumbles, looking ahead into the shadows of the forest, “how much further?”

David looks up and follows his gaze, the end nowhere in sight.  The car ride to the camp always felt like it took way too long, while also being way too short.  It took him a while to really warm up to the place, but by the time he truly started to like the place, he stopped going to camp.  What can he call the memories?  Happy?  Bad?  Bittersweet?

He looks to Jasper as their hands linked together silently.  “It shouldn’t be much further.”

“I’m bankin’ on that.”

The trek isn’t the hardest one they’ve made.  They’ve traversed over rockier terrains, neighborhoods ankle deep in water where fallen telephones can be anywhere out of sight, and stepped over rickety, unstable planks of wood in houses falling apart at the seams.  They’ve fended off desperate, violent survivors many a time before as well, running when possible, fighting when inevitable.

They don’t talk about the blood that covers their hands.

...So yes!  They have been through much, much worse.  A walk through a forest with a neglected road?  Should be a breeze through the park!  And yet, they drag their feet as if they’re travelling through muck, looking over their shoulders with an unneeded precaution, hoping to delay the inevitable.  Jasper’s memories couldn’t have been as fond as David’s, given their last year together but…

“Oh.  Shit.”  Jasper’s mumbled exclamation draws him out of his thoughts.  “Looks like you were right, Davey.”

Turns out, they didn’t drag their feet long enough.  Ahead of them stands the familiar old sign of Camp Campbell, though half the letters are missing.  The rickety old sign is hanging loose and limp, the one remaining chain allowing it to swing idly as a strong wind jostles it.  Apprehension grips David as he looks over the once familiar campgrounds.  When did the disasters start?

When did they begin? 

“Are you sure you wanna do this?”  Jasper looks over to David, concern clear on his face as the old camp remains eerily quiet.

“...I mean, who knows, right?”  He laughs nervously and slips his hand out of Jasper’s grasp.  “There might still be some supplies!  Some things we can take a-and stuff…”

“Davey…”

“I know what you’re thinking.”  He takes a step away from Jasper, rubbing his arm nervously as he looks up at the faded sign above them.  “But I-  I just want to make sure.  You know?  I know the disasters started just before summer hit but I- I just want to make sure.”

A hand lands lightly on his shoulder.  “You sure about this?  What if you find something you don’t like?”

It takes him a moment, but he finally looks over to Jasper with a wobbly smile.  “I think we’ve both gotten used to that feeling by now, right?”

An uneasy smile rises to Jasper’s face as he nods.  “Alright, bud.  How do ya wanna do this?”

He looks ahead to where the mess hall is.  The place used to be so lively but now…  “Can we split up?  Just to cover more ground, and stuff.”  

“...Right.”  A skeptical look crosses his features before Jasper’s hand lowers to squeeze his arm with a comforting smile.  “Just promise me you’ll holler if something’s up, capiche?”

“Capoche.”  His response gets a chuckle out of Jasper, before his eyes search his one last time before stepping back.  

“Alright, let’s meet back here before the sun sets.”

“Gotcha!”  David waves as Jasper wanders off to the left, disappearing from sight as he goes to explore the grounds there.

Now he's all alone.  He takes a deep breath and sighs.  Well, it's not a bad thing, after all.  It's what he wants.  It's what he... needs.  He shakes his head to clear it.  Right!  Exploration.

Right.

He walks right into the mess hall, the old doors creaking as he forces his way in.  Tables and the like are covered in dust, but otherwise look mostly untouched.  Nothing seems worse for wear, but the windows have been cracked, and some are even broken.  His boots crunch over the shards as he examines the windows.  It's not easy to determine if the broken windows were the cause of the many natural disasters, or if they were man made, but judging by the lack of disruption and chaos in the mess hall, he can hazard a guess and blame it on the elements instead.

...Oddly enough, the mess hall smells like nothing.  It's not something that should take him aback, but it does.  If he remembers correctly, it always smelled like mashed potatoes and butter in here.  It was a staple for every meal.  Thinking back, he always hated the mashed potatoes, but Jasper loved them.

"C'mon, Davey!  It's Quartermaster's specialty!"

"Ugh, well maybe he should do a better job at his specialty.  It tastes like wet paper and crud!"

"Davey!"

His steps falter as he steps closer to the kitchen.  They were never allowed back here but...

Well, that never stopped him as a kid, now did it?

He pushes the door open and peeks around the kitchen.  Nothing much has changed except the microwave looks both newer and incredibly beaten up.  A shelf catches his attention, but his nose immediately crinkles up when he realizes the foodstuffs on the shelves are nothing but perishables that have long since perished.  Another door catches his eye, and if he remembers correctly, this was where the staff kept the rest of the food.

"I dunno, Davey, this doesn't seem like a good idea."

"I didn't think you were such a goody-two shoes, Jasp."

"I'm not!  I just don't think you should do it during activities!"

"Exactly, no one's gonna expect us to come in during the daytime-"

"What are you two doing here, children."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"SCRAM, HURRY!"

The memory nearly pulls a laugh from him as he opens the pantry door.  Like the shelf outside, all the perishables have long since succumbed to pests and mold.  He picks up a can and looks at the best by date.

19... 98?

He quickly puts it back down and chooses not to think about the implications.  Okay, maybe the pantry is a bust.  He turns on his heel and walks back into the mess hall.  The unspeakable silence makes him swallow hard.  It's... unnerving to see it so empty and quiet.  He can still hear the laughter and groans of disgust that used to reverberate within these very walls.  As he walks past a table, he swears he hears a familiar giggle from his memories.  He turns to face the childish giggle, but nothing but a shadow from his memories greets him.

...Maybe some fresh air will do him some good.  All that mold is messing with his mind.

His feet take him back out and towards where he thinks the campers were supposed to stay.  Noises fill in the blank spaces, excited campers making conversations from the past that he once overheard in his youth.  The crunch of the dirt keeps him tethered in the present, but even as he glances to the side, he swears he can see the shadows of former friends running around in the corner of his eye.  This place used to be so sunny, so bright and full of life.

Now, all he sees are the broken down remains of yellow tents.  Leaves and twigs cover some of them, and a fallen tree crushes a good few of them further off.  He approaches a particular one, the third one to the left, and carefully tries to set it back up.  It's no use - the poles on the inside have snapped into pieces, rendering it impossible to get upright.  Still, he tries to at least straighten it out.  He grabs some broken branches and props it up haphazardly.  It works, but it won't last.  A strong breeze could topple it over.  

Still.  He stands back to admire his handiwork.  It's strange how he's taller than the tent now.  Before, it used to feel kind of big with enough space for him to do a little jump inside if he felt like it.  Now, it looks sad and tiny, with its tree branches keeping it upright in a poor resemblance of its former self.  It's... not the best.  The sides are sagging, and it looks ready to topple into itself but...

He blinks, and he can see Jasper's childlike appearance duck out from the tent, laughing boisterously.

"Come on, Davey!  We're gonna miss the bonfire!"

"We can't miss the bonfire, stupid, it's still gonna be there even if we're an hour late."

"Still!  C'mon, broski!"

"Don't call me that!"

"Broski!"  Jasper's young laughter fades away as he rubs his eyes.  The tent topples into itself like he predicts.  He sighs and looks away from its remains, instead looking towards where the dock should be.  A tree blocks his path, but that's never really stopped him before, now has it?

He climbs over it with ease and follows the dirt path down to the lake.  The dock is largely untouched, but the kayaks are long since gone.  In the distance, he can see the familiar sight of Normal Island, but he feels no need to explore that place.  If there were any survivors, maybe they would be there but...

Splashes and excited shouts fill the insides of his ears, his gaze remembering the counselors that helped kids learn how to swim, or fellow campers having summer fun by swimming around the lake and splashing each other.  He considers jumping down to check under the dock, a place he used to hide under until Jasper swam under and dragged him out, but getting his pants soggy is the last thing he wants at the moment.  Instead, he sits at the end of the dock and keeps himself from giving into temptation and letting his legs dangle into the lake.  He looks up and sees the clear, blue sky with not a cloud in sight.  If this were a normal camp day, all the campers would be going out for a pleasant hike.  

No fallen trees.

No eerily silent woods.

Just a normal, noisy, exciting hike.

A shuddery sigh passes through him, and he closes his eyes.  Camps aren't meant to be quiet.  It's wrong.  It doesn't feel right.  Even when he hated the place, he'd only seen it as lively and inexplicably loud.  Now it's... it's...

Dead.

The lake laps at the shore softly, but there's no laughter to accompany the noise.  No splashes, no cries, no shouts.  Even as he tries his hardest to remember, the loud silence is the only thing that reigns around him.  That, and the sound of heavy boots marching up behind him.

"Thought I'd find you out here."

He looks over and offers a weak grin.  "Hey, Jasp."

"Heya."  Jasper plops down next to him, a distant look to his eyes as he stares out at Normal Island.  "...Feels weird, huh?"

"Yeah..."

"Different vibe from..."  He gestures vaguely before dropping his hand to his lap.  "Different from broken down stores and dank cafes."

"Strange, huh?"  David hugs his knees to his chest and rests his cheek against them.  "We had some good memories here too, though."

"Yeah."  Jasper sighs as he leans back.  "Good and bad.  Nothing like stealing candy bars though."

David snorts.  "No, nothing like that."

"But we did steal that kayak one night."

"I stole the kayak.  You were just along for the ride."

"Mr. Bad to the Bone strikes again."  Jasper turns and grins with a touch of sadness to it.  "You always did have this thing for stealing things as a kid."

"I did, huh?"  David shrugs with a small smile.  "You were the only one who seemed to notice."

"And the cashier."

"And the cashier."  A small chuckle escapes him as the breeze ruffles their hair.  "...So did you find anything?"

"Nah.  Just some dust, expired rations, dirty mags in the counselor's cabin..."

"Jasp!"  

"What?"  He laughs as David lightly shoves his arm.  "We're all adults here.  You can't tell me you've never looked at a dirty mag before."  He waggles his eyebrows and it's enough to draw a laugh out of David.  

"No, I never really looked at one before.  But was that all you found?"

"Yup.  Nothing else."  A pause.  "Not a single body, not a single skeleton.  Hell, I couldn't even find the Quartermaster."

"I'm pretty sure he must be dead by now."

"You think so?"  Jasper raises an eyebrow at that.  "That dude seemed like he could live forever.  Like, I'm pretty sure I saw him stab himself with a hook once.  Preeetty sure that happened."  

David laughs as his thoughts circle back to Jasper's previous statement.

"So no bodies?"

"None."  Jasper grins as David feels a weight lifted off his shoulders.  "Just an empty campsite."

Not completely.  David looks out to Normal Island and thinks the campsite will never quite be empty.  No one truly died here, but he knows it'll always be haunted by their memories.  He stands up and dusts himself off before reaching a hand out to Jasper.  "Just an empty campsite."

Jasper takes his hand, and he pulls him up with ease.  "Ya ready to bounce from this joint?"

David takes one last look around the place.  A part of him wants to look around more thoroughly, maybe explore the activities field one last time, or walk into the mess hall one last time, but the weight of the memories might crush him even if Jasper's by his side.  And besides, he trusts Jasper's words when he says there's nothing left for them here.  He smiles as he nods his head.

"Yeah, I'm ready to go."

"Sweet."  Jasper leans in for a quick peck on the cheek, his thumb rubbing comforting circles into the back of his hand.  "Where to next?"

"Don't know."  David leads them back to the entrance of the camp, where the rickety sign continues to swing and perhaps will always continue to swing.  "Wherever the path takes us?"

"Sounds like a valid reason to me." 

They walk away from the remains of their past, never knowing if they'll ever come back to revisit it.  A part of David hopes that they will come back to the old campgrounds.  Maybe life will one day return to this old shell of a place.  Maybe it will forever remain lifeless like today.

He's not sure what is left for a place like this.  

"Wanna watch me try and vault over that tree like an Olympic track star?"

"Jasp, don't-"

"Too late!"

"Jasper!" 

There's a lot of maybes on his mind.  But maybe something will change someday for the better.  Jasper laughs as he runs at the fallen tree in front of them, only to trip and smack his face against the bark.  David yells and comes to his aid and is met with boisterous laughter, and he can't help but join his fallen boyfriend in his fit of giggles.

Maybe.

But until then, he'll cling onto these old memories.  If these are all that remains of this old place, then he'll hold onto each one in its memory.  For the sake of the place where they met.

”Hey, you’ll come back next summer, right?”

“No way, dweeb.”

“...Aw.  Then how are we gonna meet again?”

“...Stop looking at me like that.  Fine.  Fine!  I’ll come back next year!”

“Radical!  That’s a promise, right?  Pinky promise me!”

“Ugh, fine, you nerd.”

For the sake of their memories, he’ll let it rest fondly in his heart.  Until he can finally leave them all to rest.