Loiteringandlurking - Its Good To Have You Back Again ..🗞️

very very rough newsies art

Crutchie is such a gossip but like in a quiet sort of way. Like this mf regularly sees shit go down and then leans over to someone the next day and goes "I'm not one to speculate but..." and drops the hottest tea you've ever heard in your pathetic life

If I wrote something about your amputee Jack would you want to read it?

YESS OMFG!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OMFG OMGG YES ANON PLEADE PLEASR PLEADE

crutchie n jack

my theatre company's snr prod next year is into the woods!!!!!! THE FULL LENGTH MUSICAL!!!!!!! IM SO EXCITED!!!!!!

albert dasilva harem anyone

Little reblog game thingy because I love making these (and want to show some love to my mutuals)! <3

“Dave?”

“Sorry,” Davey murmurs, shuffling around again. “My leg’s just cramping up, I’m fine.”

Jack moves closer, opening his arms and shifting his knees further apart.

“C’mere,” he beckons, tugging Davey along by the shirt sleeve until he’s settling into the new space Jack’s created for him⁠—sitting in the vee of Jack’s legs, leaning back against his chest. “How’s that? Better?”

Davey carefully lowers himself down, letting his head rest just under Jack’s chin, and relaxes in with a soft sigh.

“Better,” he agrees. “Thanks Jackie.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Jack says.

Davey stills.

“You cold?” Jack asks. “Here, lemme…”

He adjusts their cocoon of blankets, his arms coming up to wrap around Davey’s torso⁠—warm and strong and secure.

“How’s that?”

“Perfect,” Davey whispers.

The movie continues, lights and color and action and sound, but Davey processes none of it, captivated by the gentle rise and fall of Jack’s chest beneath his cheek, the comforting heat of his body, the echo of his voice in his ear.

Unable to help himself, unable to just let things lie, he says, “Sweetheart.”

“What?” Jack asks, distracted.

“You called me sweetheart,” Davey says.

He feels more than hears Jack’s breath hitch in his throat, his hands curling a hair tighter around Davey’s waist before settling again.

He waits for Jack to take it back.

“I did,” Jack agrees instead, his words careful and measured. “Do you mind it?”

Davey breathes in and breathes out, finding the zipper of Jack’s hoodie and working it between his fingers. Jack sits patiently, rubbing soft circles along the his back as he waits for him to gather his thoughts.

“No,” Davey says quietly, after a while. “No, I don’t mind it.”

“You sure?” Jack checks.

Davey tucks his face further into Jack’s chest. He doesn’t know what to make of the warm feeling bubbling inside him and he’s unwilling to face it⁠—he’ll only ruin it.

“Yeah, ‘m sure,” Davey murmurs. “It’s nice.”

I’m switching hyperfixations every hour at this point

the big question is do i post my one (1) newsies drawing. it's davey btw...