What Would The Newises Do If They Saw The Delanceys Showing Their Brotherly Affection With Each Other?

cringe is dead cringe is dead cringe is dead cringe is dead cringe is de

okay so this is that self indulgent javey oneshot ...

it gets an eeny bit spicy towards the end but it's like only a little bit ...

consider this my bday gift to you guys !

Jack and David didn't realise it had gotten dark out until they could see their reflections clearly in the windows.

They weren't alone, of course, many other late night studiers still sat at their own desks, but Jack and Davey were lucky to be separated from most others by some rows of bookshelves.

And in the mellow lights from overhead, Davey's unkempt curls made shadows on his face, illuminating and accentuating his high cheekbones, sun-kissed freckles and roman nose. Jack watched the way his long fingers glided across the pages of his textbook, occasionally dropping to the desk to pick up a highlighter. Jack watched the way his eyebrows drew together as he reread a passage, the way his cool blue eyes blinked a few times.

God, he was inconceivably pretty. Jack is a very lucky man.

Davey glanced up at Jack, once quickly, as if to check what Jack was doing, then again, realising Jack's eyes were already on him.

Davey shot him a questioning look and a smile, and Jack grinned back. He watched Davey's tongue as it swiped across his beautiful soft lips, and watched those elegant fingers tuck a stray curl behind his ear. Watched as he parted his lips slightly, to sigh, resting his head on his hands, gazing at Jack.

God, what Jack wouldn't give to have his lips on Davey's right about now. It was a never-fail remedy after a long day.

Davey must have read Jack's mind, because he smiled, that downward-pointed smile that Jack loved and Davey hated, and stood, waiting expectantly. Jack stood too, wincing as the squeak of his chair echoed in the near-silent room.

He let Davey take his hand and lead him into an aisle of books- philosophy, judging from the covers.

See, their university was very old. Solid-oak-wood-shelves type old. So solid, in fact, that the only noise was a quiet 'oof!' as Davey turned, his back against a shelf, grabbed Jack's collar, and pulled him in close.

'Hey.' Davey whispered, smiling coyly.

'Hey.' Jack replied, feeling blush heat his cheeks. 'God, you're beautiful.'

Davey circled his fingers on Jack's shoulder, whisper-giggling. God, talk about seductive.

Jack let one hand rest on Davey's hip, the other on his cheek, and gently connected their lips. Electricity flowed through him, like it was their first kiss all over again. Davey smiled, pulling Jack impossibly closer as he opened his mouth, giving Jack's tongue entrance. Jack gladly obliged, running his tongue over the inside of the mouth he knew so well. He sighed happily against Davey's mouth, moving both hands down to the other boy's hips.

When Jack pulled away for breath, he took great care in memorising every detail of Davey's face. His lips, now teasing a new, slightly bruised look. His nose and cheeks, dusted pink. His eyes, storm-blue and horribly sparkly. His pupils, blown wide.

Jack lifted one hand just inside Davey's shirt, dragging his thumb over the jut of his hip-bone, revelling in the way Davey seemed to vibrate at the feeling.

'God, you're...' Jack whispered, unable to find the right words. 'Just incredible.'

'You too.' Davey sighed more than said. He gazed dreamily at Jack, making his heart skip a beat. 'Tu es plus beau que le soleil... j'ai besoin de toi.' Davey murmured, moving a hand to play with Jack's bottom lip.

'Fuck, Dave...' Jack whispered. 'You can't just talk to me like that.'

'Like what?' Davey asked innocently, snaking his arms around Jack's shoulders. 'Comme ça?'

'You know I think it's sexy.' Jack groaned, dropping his head into the crook of Davey's shoulder.

'Tu es adorable, mon amour.' Davey whispered in the most silky tone Jack had ever heard. 'Tu aimes quand je parle comme ça, n'est-ce pas?'

Jack had no idea what Davey could possibly be saying, but man oh man was it doing a number on him. And his dick. And it sure did not go unnoticed, seeing as Jack had pulled his hips flush to Davey's at some point.

A smirk tugged at the corner of Davey's mouth. 'Ah chérie, tu es déjà excitée?' Aha. Jack knew that one. Excitée. Horny. 'Juste d'après mes mots?' Davey took on a more teasing tone, which only turned Jack on more. 'Oh, mon beau garçon.'

'Oui.' Jack grunted, letting Davey rub his back, almost sympathetically. And Davey had the audacity to giggle, and it was just about the most sultry giggle Jack had heard from him.

'Dave.' Jack tried to sound stern, but it came out more pleading. 'Gimme a break.'

Davey leaned in close to Jack's ear, and whispered, obviously now trying (and succeeding, the little bitch) to sound seductive, 'Non, pas pour toi, mon amour.'

Jack physically couldn't contain it. He ground his hips up, into Davey's, slowly and needily. Davey gasped quietly, not expecting the sensation.

'Jack!' He sounded scandalised. 'We are in a library!'

'Oh, and the library was just fine when you were talking dirty to me in French?' Jack snapped back playfully.

'I was not talking dirty!' Davey placed a hand on his chest defensively. 'I had no idea it was having an effect on you!'

Jack looked pointedly down at his now obvious boner, pressed against Davey. Davey snorted. 'Okay, well, that is not my fault.'

'It is so your fault.' Jack frowned. 'Can we get out of here?'

'Only if you use my textbook to hide your situation.'

'Oh, you asshole. You're about to have your own situation.'

'Can I have my situation at home?'

'You asshole.'

Davey shrugged. 'At least I have a situation that's under control.'

'Say sorry. Right now. Or I'm taking care of my situation, right here right now.'

'Jesus!' Davey held his hands up placatingly. 'I'm sorry. .... Mon amour.'

'You ass.'

RAHHHHH IM BACK! sorry again for disappearing 😭😭😭

“Trapped”

Stone Butch Blues - Leslie Feinberg

@/lilboyblueish on Instagram

Poem by Keaton St. James (@boykeats)

I/Me/Myself - Will Wood

We Both Laughed In Pleasure by Lou Sullivan

cis people asking cis questions by Silas Denver Melvin (@sweatermuppet)

Tomboy Survival Guide by Ivan Coyote

Albert can do a full split btw ..... just thought u guys would want to know ..... he also regularly does backflips because they're fun and he likes showing off

my favorite thing about modern au ralbert is that al doesn’t really dress outwardly queer he’s just like yeah. tee shirt with the sleeves cut off and baggy jeans and maybe a flannel if he’s feeling fancy. straight boy chic. and he’s dating urban dictionary’s definition of a twink

welcome to the newsies multiverse. you are now entering MEWSIES

davey who finds all of jacks drawings- not just of him, but of everybody in jacks life. candid pictures of crutchie, race, albert, katherine- literally everybody jack knows. but as davey's snooping (because he just cannot resist) he finds a picture of a middle-aged man, drawn with considerably less refined penmanship than the others. it's labeled as 'pops' in fading pencil.

jack's father. ... oh.

davey slips it back between the two landscapes it was nestled in, but makes sure to make the corner visible- so jack might see it and consider drawing it again.

he also makes sure to snap a mental picture of the drawing labeled 'davey gazes into the distance <3' before he places the papers back into their tube and back under jack's scruffy pillow.

the teenage angst is getting to me (writing poetry)

Jack looks at him for a moment, blinking slowly as the gears click in his drunken brain, as he takes in the tight line of Davey's mouth, the knot in his jaw, the clench of his fists. His smile quivers, crumples like wet paper, and his whole body tears itself around a sharp, pained sob.

“Jack?!” Davey blinks, suddenly off-kilter, like he’d been punched in the stomach.. “What’s wrong, what happened-?”

“I got nothin’, Dave,” Jack laughs wetly, his mouth squared in a poor impersonation of a smile, all stretched and wrong. A crayon drawing, a caricature. How long has he been posing? “Got nothin’ at all. Ain’t that funny? All these folks got me, and I got nothin’.”

“Jack-“

“I could be anyone’s.” Jack hiccups. “Anyone at all, y’know? S’long’s they were nice enough. An’ I give all these little bits o’ me every day, and no one-“ He shudders, quivers out a laugh like it’s funny, like this is all some cosmic joke. “No one wants ‘em. No one wants me, Davey…”

“Hey!” Davey lurches forward, his body not knowing anything other than help Jack, hold Jack. He grabs him by the shoulders, supports Jack’s limp body with his own, like a shield, like armour. “That’s not true, you understand? We want you. We want you right where you are.”

Jack shakes his head, curling forward until his brow meets Davey’s collarbone, a feeble prayer. He quakes against him, hiccupping broken laughs, dampening Davey’s shirt with tears.

“No one’s mine…” He whimpers, like he didn’t even hear a word Davey’d said, like they weren’t real at all. “I’m everyone’s, all the time, and no one’s mine.”