Race With A Bridge Piercing. Yea That's It That All

if you could let any newsie say fuck who would it be?

maybe life is worth living

I NEEEEEEEED modern javey nyc Christmas ......... assistant davey x busker jack .... Christmas Day .... it's snowing ..... maybe even cafe au ......... all rugged up ..... LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT ............. WAHHHHHHH ...

He’s Gone- Specs

Summary- Specs goes to deliver some bad news to Crutchie.

Specs shielded his face against the rain as he stumbled along the narrow road, nearly blinded by the drops of water but still able to see a single speck of light from a street lamp, guiding him through the alleyways. His arms and legs hurt- everything hurt- but he merely gritted his teeth and walked on, not stopping until he saw the place of his nightmares in the distance.

The Refuge. Specs was one of few newsies who’d never been caught within its walls; he was one of the lucky ones. He’d always considered it some sort of mythical creature, looking to ensnare anyone who got too close to its gaping jaws, searching for the weakest of a bunch and trapping them. Jack had been there, Race had been there- god, nearly everyone he knew except himself had served a month or two- and they only had one word to describe it.

Hell.

Swallowing the nervousness that piled up in his throat, choking his voice, Specs began to climb the rickety fire escape on the side of the building. The window was locked, of course it was, and as he reached into his pocket to pull out a makeshift lock pick, he heard a sound coming from inside.

Sucking in a quick breath, ducking down, Specs prayed he wasn’t visible to anyone passing by. He stayed there, not daring to move or breathe, until he heard a voice whisper above him.

“Psst! Specs!”

Glancing up, he met the bruised and broken face of Crutchie, whose eyes had lit up as soon as their gazes made contact. Forcing a smile that felt like more of a grimace, Specs stood and gathered the boy in a hug.

“Crutchie,” he said, taking in Crutchie’s battered form. “It’s nice to see you, bud.”

“You too.” Crutchie picked at a loose splinter on the windowsill. “So, any news of the strike?”

Specs’s heart went cold as he remembered why he was there. “Since I was last here, there’s been… changes.” He watched Crutchie’s face fall as he relayed the news of Jack’s scabbing, of the rally that had failed so badly and dashed any hope of winning for the newsies.

“So, Davey’s taken over?” Crutchie asked, his voice low and wobbling. Specs nodded, unable to meet his eye.

“I’m sorry, Crutch,” he muttered. “Jack’s run off with the money now- he’s gone.”

Crutchie just stood for a second, breathing shallow, the look of disbelief almost too much to bear. “Leave,” he commanded, almost too softly to hear.

“I’m sorry?”

“I said, leave.” Crutchie’s voice was low, full of tears yet boiling over with anger. “Ain’t no use for you bein’ here if the strike’s finished.”

“I can’t leave you,” Specs argued. “What if… what if he hurts you worse now that there ain’t no one to save you?”

Crutchie laughed, cruel and sharp. “Ha! If he wants to hurt me, let ‘im. What’s one kid in the grand scheme of things? We lost, Specs. We’re done.”

Fighting back the urge to yell at him, to beg him to stay, Specs lifted his head, tears stinging the back of his eyes. “Don’t lose hope, Crutchie,” he said, trying to imitate the confidence Jack had always shown. “We’ll get ya out of here.”

“Sure you will.” Crutchie glared down at him. “But don’t be surprised if you can’t.” He slammed down the window, barely missing Specs’ fingers, and the bespectacled newsie barely heard the cry of fear and anger that followed.

Turning on his heels, Specs walked quickly away, his hopes dashed and his mind running wild.

Maybe Crutchie’s right, he thought to himself, staring out at the barely-visible moon, rain soaking him to his skin. Maybe we can’t do this.

Not without Jack, anyway.

something to believe in javey ........ not to dismiss katherine she's awesome ... but I need gay ..

teehee rehearsal one done!!!!!!!!!!! IM SO PUMEPD!!!!!!!! RRRRRRAAAAAHHHHHHH

finally kicked my art block so have some jack kelly spouting teenage boy nonsense at poor katherine as a treat ( what do you mean this isn't their post-world will know scene in a nutshell?? )

based on @loiteringandlurking ‘s post :)

his post; “hs au javey where Davey (in a fit of frustration and sensory nightmares) takes off his shirt in the changing room during phys ed (…) cue jack stepping into the room right as davey's shirt comes off and immediately turning the other direction because oh my god is it disrespectful he's so fine fuck am I meant to look is it okay to look does he have abs????

and davey's like 'hey .... jack .....'

and jacks like 'IMSOSORRYWAITNOIDIDNYMEANIJUSTTHOUGHT' and Davey has to physically take a step back (…)”

Fuckin… gotta get this damn shirt off, the tag is fuckin scratchy and- I need this off Davey let out an annoyed hiss as he scrambled to get his shirt off in the empty locker room.

The PE teacher was yelling at the earlier class to finish their laps, and Davey was plugging his ears as not to overwhelm himself more. Unfortunately, taking off a shirt with your fingers in your ears is a surprisingly difficult task.

Davey finally unplugged his ears for less than a second, basically ripping his shirt off in that time. As he threw the fabric off of him and over his head, he let out a sigh of relief and stretched his spine, reaching towards the ceiling. 

He picked up his shirt off the dirty changing room floor, holding it as though he was scared of it. He looked around, coming down from the overstimulation, and noticed he was still alone. He could still hear the gym teacher yelling at the last class, and he didn’t want to subject himself to the berating he’d surely get for forgetting his PE shirt in the boys locker room.

He sighed and grabbed his phone, clicking “Jack Kelly” in his contacts.

The phone rang twice before his friend picked up, and Davey whispered into the mic; “Hey jack, sorry no time for formalities, can you grab my shirt from the locker room? My lockers D122, the code is 5-41-17, thank you bye!” He spoke quickly, then hung up.

Jack was confused, but complied. He grabbed the mentioned athletic shirt from Davey’s locker, going to the stalls to hand it to him.

“Davey?” He asked. No reply.

He thought he should check the changing room, but didn’t really suspect Davey would be in there.

As he turned the corner of the changing room, his eyes widened at the sight. There Davey sat, shirtless and gnawing at his nails anxiously. Jack didn’t notice the first bit until he was walking towards Davey and pulling his hand away from his lips gently.

“Dave, we talked about this-“ he paused, blushing “uh. Uh, where’s your shirt?” He asked awkwardly.

“Oh, sorry. Can I have it?” Davey asked 

Jack was preoccupied, noting every detail on Davey. He had abs. That was very much something Jack wouldn’t expect from Davey. “Er- yeah, sure.” He was still staring at Daveys abs as he spoke, accidentally dropping the shirt in his stupor.

“Fuck, sorry. Just- Just, you’re like… really built.” He blurted out, picking up the shirt and handing it to Davey.

Davey stood up to pull on the shirt, giving jack a short-lived sight of him. Davey was moderately confused at jacks comment, but laughed it off.

“Mhm- uh, I’m gonna… I have homework, or, uh, bye.” Jack mumbled, flustered from the experience and sprinting out of the room.

Later, in Jacks room “studying”

“He had abs! I’m telling you, he’s just-“ jack let out a pathetic scream as he rambled to his friends, Kathrine and Crutchie.

“We know you’re hopelessly in love. But did you have to stare at him for that long? God, you’re absolutely simping for that man.” Katherine rolled her eyes. Crutchie nodded in agreement.

“I’m not- I’m not whatever that word was! I’m just impressed, is all. He’s not the type’a guy I’d expect to have a fucking 6-pack.” Jack muttered.

“Just get some balls and ask him out already. Who knows, you could be seeing him shirtless in a different setting.” Crutchie said suggestively.

“Asking people out is scary! Especially Davey. He prolly has a girlfriend.” Jack replied defensively.

“No? He’s gay. And single. And what are you? Gay and single. Match made in heaven. Ask him out, ditwad.” Katherine commented.

“Maybe.” Jack said simply.

“Yes.” Crutchie responded.

“Yes.” Katherine added.

“Maybe.” Jack repeated.

“Two months, then we tell him ourselves.” Katherine comprimised

“Four months.” Jack demanded

“Three and you ask him out if we have to tell him for you.” Crutchie butted in.

“Fine.” Jack relented

“Mhm.” Katherine nodded calmly.

(End fic)

High quality newsies pictures for you guys

you should watch 92sies :) /nf

RAHHH I WANT TO!!!!!!! but I keep like putting it off... like I wanna watch it SO BAD but it's sooooo much EFFORT yk....... ty anon!!!!!