They Call Me 007. 0 Rizz 0 Bitches 7 Mental Health Diagnosises

Javey Sleeping Positions!!

I just KNOW Jack is the type of person to fall asleep anywhere, in any position, at any time, while Davey sleeps like he’s about to be cremated

love giving silly updates ... you guys deserve to know what goes on

new javey think just dropped!! (cw for mention of sh scars!!!)

Davey needs a breath of fresh air.

He travels up to the roof of the building, taking the stairs instead of the elevator becuase the last thing he wants right now is to feel nauseous.

His chest feels tight, his eyes are sore.

Maybe it's not worth it.

He reaches the roof, opening the door and feeling the cool breeze on his wet cheeks as he glanced around.

He sees another figure on the roof- he's not alone.

Who else would be out here at this time of night?

When Jack hears the door to the roof open, he turns. He doesn’t whip around in surprise, he's far too tired. He turns, almost lethargically.

The figure has the same curls and chiseled nose as David Jacobs. Even in the dark of the night, it's clear he’s been crying. His shoulders are drawn up near his ears and his hands are wringing an invisible towel, trembling slightly.

His voice carries on the wind: ‘Jack?’

He replies, hoping his voice carries the same way: ‘David?’

It's like a Western standoff. The moon slinks behind a cloud. The stars toss beautiful shadows across Davey’s cheeks, shiny with tears.

‘Come here.’ Jack says softly, gesturing to the view. ‘Look.’

Davey begins to walk over, stumbling a little over his own feet. He looks out at the view- it's beautiful. Windows shine like stars, cars flow on the streets like rivers of lights and electricity. Electricity flows through Davey’s veins. Jack’s shoulder touches his.

The sleeves of Jack’s hoodie are drawn up, and his hands dangle over the edge of the building. Constellations of scars and freckles litter his arms. The scars: methodical, patterned, they are buildings, they are cars. The freckles: tossed haphazardly across Jack’s skin, they are dappled light, they are stars.

Davey always had a bit of a thing about stars.

‘Are you alright, Dave?’ Jack asks the city skyline.

'I'm…’ Davey sighs towards the bank building. ‘I’m alright. Better now that I’m chatting to you. Better now that I’m getting some fresh air.’

Jack hums, slipping a hand around Davey’s shoulders.

‘The city’s beautiful at night, iddnit?’

‘It reminds me of you.’

'jack, you, uh.... you got something.' jack's eyebrows draw together as davey points to jack's face with his fork.

'something o' what?' jack wipes his hand across his cheek. 'soot? dirt?' davey only giggles behind his hand, which is criminal.

'nah, lemme get it.' davey smiles his horrid smile and reaches across their table. his hand cups jack's cheek as davey swipes his thumb across the corner of jack's mouth, and jack has half a mind to lean over the table and kiss davey then and there as he watches davey's eyebrows knit. he feels davey's thumb on his face, harder this time, dragging out the corner of his lip, and jack swats his hand away.

'davey, what on earth?' jack tries not to smile a cheek-hurtingly amount as davey checks his thumb, his eyes drawing back to that corner of jack's mouth.

davey doesn't say anything (god save the man) and instead leans over their table and their food (his tie almost dragging through their meals) until his face is inches from jacks. jack feels his entire face turn red as Davey thouroughly searches his face, one thumb leaning up to the corner of his mouth again. davey scratches the corner of jack's mouth with his fingernail, and jack yelps. 'ow! dave, what the hell?' he brings his hand up to where davey scratched, the stinging sensation already subsiding.

'you have food on your face!' davey finally says, plopping back down onto his chair. 'there's a little crumb st the corner of your mouth! i don't have my glasses, so I was so proud of myself for noticing it, but it didn't come off! it's stuck to your face, jack! the crumb is fusing with you!'

jack searches davey's incredulous expression for any notes of sarcasm or jokes as he grins.

'davey,' he says carefully, surpressing laughter. 'is it a freckle?'

im recording myself singing Santa Fe prologue for my jack audition and honestly I would rather kms than listen back 😭😭

very very rough newsies art

Can u write anything ralbert. is rhat real. pls. Angsty,.,,,cute,, whatever au u want that u haven’t picked cheavhers for please race and albert

YAS!!!!

this is a snippet from my au that im writing ! hope u like :3

----

It was a cold winter night when Race realised he was in love.

Knock knock.

Race checked the time. What would anybody want with his sorry ass at 11:34pm?

He padded over to the door, rubbing his bleary tv eyes.

As he got closer to the door, he heard a sniffle.

Race's mind raced. Who would be crying outside his door late at night?

Did he fuck up?

God, did he ruin his chances with Al?

He opened the door, warily, prepared for the worst.

Albert's teary blue eyes and trembling hands greeted him.

Albert stood a little taller than Race, so he had to stand on tiptoe to see him eye to eye. His red hair was displaced from his usual slick back, strands falling down into his eyes, wet at the ends. He wore a grey shirt, with the sleeves cut off (as usual), with no jacket, despite the freezing temperature and the snow outside. Whether he was trembling because of the cold or the emotions he was clearly feeling was unclear.

In his hands, white knuckled and shaking, he held a Tupperware container full of food. It looked delicious.

And his face. God, his face. He looked at Race almost pleadingly with reddened eyes, eyebrows drawn together, lips pursed and swollen-looking, freckles strewn across his teary cheeks like shooting stars.

'Race?' He asked timidly, bottom lip quivering. Race, in a state of shock, only stepped to the side and waved Albert into his apartment. He closed the door behind him, and motioned Albert to his couch before almost sprinting to his bedroom and grabbing his duvet off his bed. He carried it into the living room, where Albert was now sitting, trembling, staring blankly at the floor, the meal deposited on Race's coffee table.

'Albert,' Race draped his duvet over Albert's shoulders, and climbed over the couch to sit next to him. 'I mean.. Is everything okay? What happened?'

Albert melted. He collapsed against Race, his tears sinking into Race's hoodie, chest heaving with sobs.

'I-' he choked out. 'I made you food. I've been leaving it.. outside your door for... for.. for weeks now, and I just..' he took in a shaky breath. 'I wanted you to.. to know it was me and also I need my containers again.'

'Oh, Albert.' Race hugged Al into his chest, holding him securely and rubbing his back as he cried. 'You're alright, it's okay.'

'I'm... I'm really drunk.' Albert murmured into Race's shoulder. 'M sorry.'

'Hey,' Race threaded his fingers into Albert's hair. 'You're alright. You want a glass of water? Let's get up, I'll give you a hoodie and some water, hey? Then we'll eat the food you brought, alright?'

Albert sniffled. 'Oh.. okay. Yeah.' He took a deep breath and removed himself from the soft curve of Race's body, and stood up, shaking a little.

'I'll get you a hoodie, okay? Head to the kitchen.'

'Okay.'

Race ran to his room, pulled out his biggest hoodie and made his way back to the kitchen, where he found Albert nearly passed out on his counter, eyes drooping, hands clasped together, his hair falling onto his face.

'Here, bud. Put this on.' Race handed Albert the hoodie and retrieved a glass, filling it with tap water. Aware of how tired Albert clearly was, he slipped his meal into the fridge- he'd eat it for breakfast tomorrow.

'Thanks.' Albert whispered, pulling the hoodie over his head- it fit him perfectly, and suited him really well- and downed the water Race gave him next.

'You wanna get some sleep, dude?' Race asked gently, rubbing Albert's back as he leant on the counter again. Albert nodded drowsily.

'Here, follow me.' Race took Albert's hand, leading him to his bedroom. 'Sleep here, yeah?' He deposited Albert so he was sitting on the single bed. 'I'll sleep on the coach tonight.'

'No...' Albert said quietly. 'Sleep here too. 'S comfy.' He dropped down to lay on his side, patting the spot next to him.

How could Race deny this beautiful, beautiful man?

NEWSIES PT.5

guys i fuckinh love ralbert btw .. didn't know if u guys knew that !

dude lowkey starting to think you’re into newsies. and you ship david and jack. yknow… just lowkey though. (don’t worry, i’m an empath, i naturally know these things)

WHATTTTTTTTTTT how did you KNOW