Me When I Go Really Insane And Draw More Newsies All Day

NEED to draw rn it's unreal

jack who lives off shin ramen throughout uni x Davey who needs at least 2 full meals per day to function . they are roommates ...

i think about the scene before watch what happens (reprise) all the time. i think about the fact that davey and kath (who are always seen as the smart ones solely because they have an education) have no idea how to deal with a severely traumatized jack. i think about “the guy who paints places hes never seen is calling us crazy” and “lighten up no one died” all the time. i think about how they have no idea what to say to jack because all of them are just Children and kath and davey will never experience 99% of the trauma jacks endured his whole life. i think about how race would have been Perfect in that moment to talk to jack because unlike davey and kath he understands exactly how jacks feeling because he misses crutchie just as much & has witnessed the way jack reacts for Years. i think about how that scene really shows the difference between jack kath and davey perfectly and it works So well.

platonic davey/katherine featuring newsbians!! i can’t sleep and i have so much due tomorrow so ofc i’m staying up drawing instead of going to bed </3 😀

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.’

just finished writing an EXTREMELY self indulgent javey oneshot .................... who wants to read it I'll post it tmr maybe ...

Davey speaks french and it fucks jack up ... they're also in a library so it's all whispering ....

today i found out that if you have library access through ur school, you almost definitely have a copy of the vatican’s latin translation of diary of a wimpy kid and i am currently reading Commentarii de Inepto Puero thank you

...

albert doesn't really KNOW how to express affection. he steals race's cigar every once in a while, but he doesn't think race really appreciates that. what he knows (or thinks) race likes is when albert hugs him, when albert compresses race as tightly as possible for as long as possible. usually albert isn't a hugger, but something about the way race melts in his arms is addicting. the faint smell of smoke on his vest, the soot on his cheeks wiping onto albert's neck, where albert wouldn't want to clean, to keep that faint reminder of race on him for a little longer.

some mornings albert 'accidentally' puts on race's vest instead of his own, to smell his scent of smoke and sweat and warmth in winter. sometimes he climbs into race's bed with him just to Be with him. to feel race's warmth and smell his smoke.

being with race is the only thing he really wants, he thinks.