he/him media enjoyer • roman/rome • australian, 17 • javey&ralbert centric • always down for a chat !!
457 posts
Latest Posts by loiteringandlurking - Page 2
“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
" Honey with your kill-shot, baby."
hate when i realize i left my book at home. it's this very specific flavor of panic and disappointment that i dont feel about anything else
“I thought I saw you sneak up here,” Jack murmurs.
“...I just needed some air,” Davey says in a thin, quiet voice, staring determinedly out into the darkness.
“Got room for one more?” Jack asks, stepping closer.
Davey gives a tiny shrug, wrapping his arms around himself. Taking this as permission, Jack clambers up onto the ledge and sits down beside him, not quite close enough to touch, letting his legs dangle over the edge.
The silence stretches on and on, as vast as the expanse of sky overhead. Hesitant, Jack allows it to linger for a long, breathless moment, and he’s honestly not sure if he’s trying to gather his thoughts or his nerve.
But finally he says, “Ain’t seen much’a you tonight. Ain’t seen much’a you in ages, really.”
He pauses there, trying to judge Davey’s reaction to his gentle prodding. But Davey doesn’t move, doesn’t even turn to face him, as still and stone-faced as a statue.
The pit in Jack’s stomach grows even wider.
Aloud he continues, “And I’m not tryin’ ta point fingers, Dave, but I’m startin’ to worry that somethin’s gone wrong between us. Horribly wrong. Maybe—“ He sucks in a breath. “Maybe so wrong that it can’t be fixed.”
He wants Davey to reassure him, to explain away the unease that colors their every interaction, why each conversation seems to end with a thousand words left unspoken. To say that it’s all going to be okay.
But he doesn’t say anything. Not a single, godforsaken word, and somehow, out of everything, that’s what cuts the deepest.
literally learned about all of the wilbur soot stuff yesterday/today……..,what the fuck. this man was a HUGE part of my covid years. literally every youtuber i’ve loved since around 2020 ish suddenly has grooming/domestic abuse/criminal allegations made against them and nothing feels real anymore. to be completely clear i do not support wilbur soot anymore but i am still hesitant about not supporting lovejoy. like yes wilbur was a part of it bit idk if any of the pther members really knew or had much of an idea.
David didn’t want his first visit to the lodging house to be this, anything but this would’ve been better.
He attempted to readjust the way JoJo’s arm hung across his shoulders, fingers digging in in a grip that matched the wince on his face with every limped half step.
Les forged on ahead of them in some kind of attempt to clear the way, and people moved for the dirt-stained kid with tear tracked cheeks and an arm held to his chest, spattered with blood; his own or someone else’s David wasn’t sure yet and as much as he wanted to grab Les and give him a once over for any injuries aside from the obvious, JoJo who’d gotten a club to the knee and then the head once he went down took priority.
JoJo was also spattered with blood, but it was obvious it was his own, leaking from his newly crooked nose-
He lurched to the side suddenly, and David did his best to keep him upright but he was tired and his head was spinning and something in his chest was sending shooting pains along his ribs when he breathed too deep and staying upright was hard-
“Sorry Dave.” JoJo’s voice was slurred like he was drunk and Davey realised he didn’t even know what age he was. Not old enough to get drunk, not even close, 14 at most surely, not the youngest but younger and-
“It’s fine. We’re almost back, just a couple more steps.”
“Y’seen Splasher?”
“Don’t worry about him right now. We’re almost back.”
“That copper got him real good Dave. I don’think I seen him get up.”
David swallowed bile, clung to JoJo’s waist a little harder.
He hadn’t seen Splasher get up either.
“I’m sure he’s fine.” He said out loud.
I know we talk a lot about how many Newsies were in West Side Story, but I wanna talk about how many of them were in Cats
Look it up, a good few of them have been in different productions of Cats-
GUYS!!! :)))) I got into my college’s very very prestigious, 4% acceptance rate Acting program!!!! I’m so so grateful. I literally have no words. I never like boasting about myself but after spending my entire life having to compete twice as hard as a disabled trans man in theatre, i’m gonna boast just a little :,) much much love to all of my other trans performers out there, we have a place onstage just like everyone else!!!!
davey jacobs keyed his ex's car. davey jacobs texts that ex begging for them to come back every once in a while. davey gets really drunk those nights. davey jacobs is unhealthy. don't let the proper academic shell fool you. davey jacobs is a mess. can davey jacobs understand complex nuances in literature? can he do university-level physics? yes. davey jacobs is smart, but he's certainly not much else, at least in his own eyes.
writing drabbles isn't enough I need to SEE the characters do the things
would david jacobs smoke
(pot or cigarettes you decide)
nothing feeds into my newsies fixation more than going to newsies rehearsal four times a week :3
gay people for todayyyyyyyyyyyy
me when i just draw javey and ralbert over and over 😁👍
Little reblog game thingy because I love making these (and want to show some love to my mutuals)! <3
Hey, if you're a minor and you're following my blog, I just need you to be aware:
You have been on this earth for fewer years than my cat has.
She turns 20 this week, everyone please say happy birthday 🥳💖
Race once witnessed crutchie break spaghetti before putting it in a pot, and later that day Crutchie found a mildly threatening, tear-stained note on his bed.
I’m the same anon that sent you the song before, and I finished my Ralbert playlist :)
thoughts?
strawberry wine - Noah Kahan Dawning of Spring - Anson Seabra State of Grace (acoustic version) - Taylor Swift New Years Day - Taylor Swift Close Behind - Noah Kahan Be my Mistake - The 1975 Anyway - Noah Kahan John my Beloved - Sufjan Stevens
EEEEE OK WAIT ILL MAKE A RALBERT PLAYLIST WITH THOSE SONGS RNNNN TY ANON!!!!!!!!
Albert lies on Race's bed. It's 8:34am (or so Race's clock tells him), he's groggy, and he can hear Race's microwave and coffee machine.
He blinks a few times. He remembers what had happened last night; he wasn't THAT drunk, and he remembers it was fucking embarrassing. He dreads facing Race as he will inevitably have to.
Race, the cute guy in apartment 309 that now knows it was Albert leaving him meals after he overheard on the phone Race hated cooking, Race who smells faintly of smoke and has a crooked smile, Race who he shared a bed with last night, Race who gave Albert his hoodie. Race who, Albert is certain of it, he is completely and totally crushing on.
He drags one foot to the floor, then another, pushing himself upright. His sweatpants are creased, the neckline of his- Race's- hoodie is askew, his hair is knotted and all over the place; he can tell just by running a hand through it. He follows the noise of the coffee machine to Race's kitchen.
There he is.
God, Albert nearly faints. His hair is adorably tousled, his shirt is loose and hanging barely onto his shoulders, he has his back to Albert, letting him drink in all of his sharp lines, curved musculature- or at least what he can see under the shirt.
Albert clears his throat.
Race turns, brandishing a mug. "Morning! How'd you sleep?"
Albert tears his eyes from Race's figure to look at Race's coffee machine.
"Uh.. alright. I'm a little hungover, though. I might get a glass of water?" He clears his throat again, looking down to his feet. "Sorry about last night."
Race is all smiles and bounces as he fills a glass with water and brings it to Albert, smiling softly and, dare Albert say, sweetly and lovingly, as he hands Albert the water and pats his shoulder.
"That's totally okay, man. I get it, I get you. I'm sorry about how fucked up and awful your emotions must be. But now we get to eat yummy breakfast together!" Race points at the microwave. "The food you made last night! I have no idea what it is, but it looks and smells delicious!!"
"We?"
Race looks away, takes his hand off Albert's shoulder- Albert's shoulder is cold.
"Well.. I mean, unless you don't want to..."
"No! No, I want to." Albert steps closer to Race, putting his own hand on Race's shoulder. "I just.... I was scared you didn't like me."
Race looks shocked.
The coffee machine stops brewing.
"No, Al, I..." Race sighs, looking away. "I don't know. I'm confused."
Albert sags, a little defeated. "That's okay. Take your time figuring it out. I'll be here for you, if you want me to be."
The microwave beeps.
"That would be lovely."
Pfffft. Okay. If this gets 1k notes I’ll come out to my teacher at school and ask to be called my preferred pronouns :)
my mutuals’ “headcanons” are MY canon. understand? i only know what they tell me, i only hear what they say. my mutuals’ posts are like the holy texts and i am but a humble scholar in search of knowledge