Improvin' The Truth

⊱ the many escapades of Jack Kelly and the gang (continued)

[lilpy]

🧤 Fraternising 🎩

What if the note had just been a request for a longer walk some time in early winter? So they’d have an excuse for the redness on their cheeks and the tips of their ears?

December’s ρατreοn postcard! Patrons also get a little extra in their envelopes this month💕

More on my Patreon | Prints 

[andrusmagnus]

Irish Lace 1850

[goslinggf]

🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂

[mushiimune]

Jack can never let himself get too comfortable with anything, or anybody. Opening yourself up guarantees the end will hurt badly, and that's something he knows for a fact. It's happened too many times before to let himself forget it. And there always will be an end, where he's involved. For some reason nothing good ever tends to last. So why count on the impossible chance that it will?

More than anything, he wants a family. To belong somewhere, to somebody. He wants people to feel safe with. There's nowhere he can go where the shadows that haunt him won't follow, but there are folks who can help him to forget about them for a while.

But the company of safety and security is temporary, and the pain he carries close to his chest is forever. Jack can't let his guard down too much, or risk facing the consequences all over again, continuing the neverending chain.

After a long while of hoping, Jack gets to thinking that maybe doesn't deserve to have what he's been longing for. Maybe it's just his way to be alone. Probably it's better that way.

[fawnaura]

Anne Sexton, from The Collected Poems; “Flight”

[darkmacademia]

details / townley venus (1813), british museum, london

[mortem-et-necromantia-deactivat]

[mushiimune]

a little Jack and Les :] I do enjoy the look of softer colors every now and again

Jack doesn't particularly enjoy being a serious role model for Les. The idea is alluring in theory, but the reality is that Jack wouldn't wish the life he's lived on his worst enemy, let alone Les. So he tries to act more like the guy he wishes he had to look up to when he was that small– at least when Les is present, of course. (No promises, Dave.)

[improving-the-truth]

fall weather > foul humid summer weather insects are everywhere insects are in your closet and in your walls the air tastes like mowed lawns and your sandals are eroding away with every step into target that you take

[jessicas-pi]

Y'know, I see a lot of posts urging people to comment on fics, so I just want to say, to all the people who do comment, and especially the long commenters:

thank you.

Long comments can be time-consuming. They can be difficult to write, but you leave them anyway!

Thank you, thank you, thank you, to everyone who comments.

You are the highlight of fanfiction writers' days.

[improving-the-truth]

i cannot write anything my brain has apparently up and left my body oh my gosh

[awesomehoggirl]

Stumbles out of google docs covered in blood

[wrappedallinwoe]

Manuscript of Bram Stoker’s Dracula playscript, from 1897.

[improving-the-truth]

Cigarette

David decides that he's going to try and get Jack to quit smoking.

you can also read here on AO3 :)

*****

“Come here, Davey.”

David shut the door behind him, tossing an obligatory glare Jack’s way. He didn’t like being bossed around, least of all by Jack, who happened to have the least authority in the world over what David did and didn’t do.

The only reason David went over to him anyway was because that was what they were there to do—indulge in peace, quiet, and each other's company for a little while. Where Jack was concerned the peace wasn't likely to last very long, neither was the quiet. David elected to take the risk in the hopes that Jack's company would help soothe the headache he'd been nursing all day. School stressed him out. As a matter of fact, everything stressed him out. But when Jack told him it was going to be okay, for whatever reason David couldn't help but believe him.

Just as David was about to sit next to Jack on the old sofa, Jack nudged his ankle with his boot, shaking his head.

“No,” said Jack. Instead, he patted his lap, snickering. “Sit here, Dave.”

David rolled his eyes, cheeks scalding, taking a deliberate seat a cushion away from him.

“Your loss.” Jack grinned broadly, as if it wasn’t his loss, too. “Whatever you want.”

“What exactly am I missing out on?” David demanded, mustering less conviction than intended.

“I can't just tell you. You gotta find out for yourself.” Jack scooted closer to him, leisurely reaching an arm over the cushions at David's back. “These walls is soundproof, after all.” Jack gestured to the rest of the empty smoke room they'd been using as a hangout ever since the bowery stagehands decided their company was better spent at the bar that had recently opened up a few blocks away.

It was all about convenience these days. Ironically, nothing was less convenient to David than being shut up in a cramped room that reeked of beer and sweat with Jack Kelly leaning into his side.

David eyed the short walls curiously, daring to entertain the idea that they were already providing a suitable demonstration of their soundproofing abilities. The room was a stairwell’s length underground, tiny flat windows poking out onto the street, just below the boarded ceiling. The glass in them wasn't frosted, but they were caged on the outside and low enough to dissuade the average passerby from looking in. The door didn't lock, but in all the time since the two of them had started going down there, nobody had so much as passed through the corridor.

Upon the realization that he was actually considering Jack's demands, David's eyes shot wide and he profusely shook his head.

“They're not soundproof,” David decided, “And even if they were, no.”

Jack laughed at the bewilderment on David's face. David already felt bad, and worried that his denial had been too harsh. It wasn't that he… well, not that he was opposed to it exactly—probably Jack was only teasing. There was no way it was safe to do something like that down here.

Then again, if Jack was serious in implying that it was, David would have no choice but to believe him. Jack's reservations about whatever it was that had been growing between them were shockingly stronger than David's. Jack always seemed to know where to hide and how touchy was too touchy in public. If David wanted somewhere private, Jack would go looking, and assess the risk tactically, strangely as if he'd been through all this before. Which absolutely didn't tug David through the ropes of jealousy or anything. Jack was just clever and careful, that was all.

David folded his hands in his lap, pulse just beginning to pound when Jack retracted his arm from around him to pull out a cigarette.

“What do you think you're doing?” David pointedly interrupted. “Put that away.”

“Hmm.” Jack produced a match. “It's a smoke room, Dave. It was made to be smoked in. Unless you got something better we could do.”

David's brows creased, annoyed. Jack always found that expression of his amusing for some reason. He wasn’t even sure if Jack’s remark was meant to be suggestive or a genuine offer. Trusting his brain wasn't exactly on the table these days, and without it to lean back on in times of need, the world felt like an obstacle course rather than a straight and narrow road it used to be.

“Well, maybe I do have something better for us to do. You're not going to find out if you light that thing, though.”

The smoke hung from Jack's lips. He put the match away, shaking his head fondly.

David took the cigarette between his fingers and replaced it with his mouth. He felt Jack's lips twist into a grin against his own, placing a hand on David's cheek to keep him steady. David braced a hand against Jack's chest, letting the cigarette roll onto the floor and brushing it under the sofa with his shoe, something he hoped Jack wouldn't notice seeing as his eyes were closed and all.

There was a thrill in kissing Jack that never went away, no matter how many times they did it. He knew he wasn't technically doing anything wrong, not in private at least, but sometimes he couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. Trusting his own judgement had never been easy, especially not now, when everything he did he found himself second-guessing. Even after everything, David found himself wanting to be impressive, and more like Jack in more ways than he could count.

Jack wound his arm around David's middle, haphazardly pulling him onto his lap. As much as David usually complained at being manhandled, the only thing he did as a rebuttal was fist the front of Jack's messily buttoned shirt to pull him closer.

“Do I taste like smoke?” Jack prompted when they paused to take a breath.

“No,” David mumbled, sliding his thumb over the sharpening curve of Jack's cheek. “More like perversity.”

“I dunno what that means,” said Jack, and kissed David again.

David ought to throw out all of Jack's cigarettes if he knew it was going to be like this without them.

[improving-the-truth]

Burnout

David experiences burnout from school, only now he has somebody to help him through it.

*****

“Sorry,” David mumbled. He scrubbed a hand down his face, in a halfhearted effort to keep himself awake. Jack had never met a guy who hated sleep so much he'd rather keep himself awake when he was about to topple over just so he could do homework instead. “I'm just tired. I'm so sick of this.”

David's face fell immediately after the words left his mouth. He chewed the inside of his cheek, guilty, turning his head away from Jack, who was stewing with concern of his own. He didn't want to take David's admission for granted. It wasn't often that David negatively talked about school in front of him, for fear he'd look like he was ungrateful for an opportunity that very few newsies had ever been afforded.

Jack placed his hand on David's shoulder, pushing the textbook he'd been using as a makeshift tabletop off his lap and onto the floor of the rooftop. He scooted closer to David, winding his arm around David's neck as he did, pulling him into a hug. David let him.

“Anything I can do?” Jack offered, feeling more than just sympathy. David tended to overwork himself, excusing his neglect with the claim that Jack had to work harder than he ever has. But that comparison wasn't fair at all, and David knew it deep down. Jack did, too, and tried to refute it best he could without stressing David out worse.

One of the only bad things about David was that he couldn't accept help without a fight. It was a familiar song and dance, Jack realized, feeling guilty about his own aversion to letting anybody get too close with their generous offers of support.

David sighed, wrapping his arms around Jack's neck. Chest to chest, he nosed against Jack's collar, glad for the distraction, however temporary it would soon prove to be. The thing about moments like this was that they always came to an end, and then David would have to get back to work.

Eventually, David sighed for a second time and shook his head. “I just need to be close to you for a while.”

“All right, Dave.” Jack gave him a gentle squeeze, carding his fingers up through David's curls. “I can do that.”

[mushiimune]

6 with Javid? :0

Dialogue prompt 6: "Why are you asking me that?"

Jack goes to visit the Jacobses, only to find David crying on the fire escape.

Here is where you can also find this on ao3! It was interesting to write :-) what goofy mentally stable boys

*****

The fire escape rattled as Jack climbed up, undeterred by the slight spittle of late autumn rain freezing on his cheeks. All the trees were brown, and the sky was gray, brewing thick with a storm angry enough to change the seasons.

Jack knew he'd heard somebody on the landing above him, and thought nothing of it until he reached the Jacobs’ floor. He took pause at the top of the steps, staring with alarm down at David Jacobs, curled up in the corner with his knees against his chest.

By no means did Jack consider himself a genius, and graciously it didn't take one to see that David was upset. Judging by the way the part of his face that was slightly visible over his arm looked taut and pained, he had probably been crying, too, or was about to. There had been countless times where Jack accidentally walked in on another boy when they were trying to take a moment to collect themselves. The lodging house wasn't all that big, after all, and from firsthand experience Jack knew that the cramped confines of the dormitory was no place to let anything seep through where anyone could see. Wearing your heart anywhere somebody could see was a good way to get it crushed, or worse, scrutinized.

Sometimes a fellow just has to take a minute for himself. Sometimes days, or even weeks. It wasn't unusual. However, Jack hadn't known David long enough to know what was usual for him or not. Maybe David had a habit of sitting out on the fire escape when Jack wasn't around that he simply didn't know about yet. Or maybe, this was a deviation from normalcy. In either case Jack should show his concern and support, because that's what a pal would do. And they weren't just pals, they were best pals, which called upon more than the bare minimum that Jack was used to.

David didn't say anything to him. But he didn't tell him to scram, either. Jack thought it was reasonable to stick around, even though his heart was pattering and his body was already resisting the pull of the stairwell calling his name. Age-old instinct hammered into his buzzing nerves told him to turn around and run back into the alley below.

Jack's head, however, warned him that David—constantly surrounded by the warm bosom center of his family—needed somebody beside him when things got tough. He was used to being cared about a certain way. If Jack left now, David's opinion of him would almost certainly plummet. More importantly, David would be left alone when he needed somebody to depend upon; likely, before Jack, that person had been Sarah. Which begged the question of why David was outside at all, in the cold and the muggy air foretelling of downpour, instead of inside with his family where he belonged. Without a coat, at that.

Jack noticed that the curtains were drawn and the window was pulled shut. There wasn't another sign of life around, except for the whipping of damp underthings on the clotheslines slicing through the aperture of sky above them.

Jack staunchly approached David, who didn't move at all as Jack lowered down beside him with a grunt.

“Hey, Dave,” said Jack, kindly as he could. Shoulder to shoulder, he didn't have to glance over to know David was shivering. “You all right?”

David shrugged, lifting his head so his chin rested on his stacked forearms. Bloodshot eyes stared blearily at the building across from them.

Jack chewed his lip. “You want me to go?” Maybe he had been wrong. Maybe David was the type of guy to cherish his alone time more than Jack thought.

David shrugged a second time. Then he muttered, “No.”

An uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Jack could tell that David was cold, so he slipped his coat from around his shoulders and fixed it over David's, holding it there with his arm around David's neck.

“Look, Dave,” Jack started once the tension in David's shoulders had eased some. “If there's anything you wanna, you know, talk about– I'll listen.”

Boyishly shameful, David hid his face in the crook of his elbow, clutching Jack's coat closer to him with his other fist.

Minutes later, David spoke up.

“What made you want to be my friend?” He asked unsteadily. “Why did you care whether I walked away with nineteen papes or twenty?”

Those were two very different questions. Jack didn't know which David wanted him to answer first.

“I don't like seeing nobody get bummed around by Weasel.”

“So that's it? You stood up for me out of principle?”

“Well… There's more to it than that.”

“Tell me about it, then. What made you want to be my friend?”

A lot of reasons came to mind, too many to pick through, especially when he didn't know the sort of response David was looking for. Or better yet, what he needed to hear right now.

Probably he didn't need to hear the truth. Not that Jack would be able to tell it to begin with. Shame settled deep in his bones, looking back on the day that they met, and the weeks leading up to it.

David didn't need to hear that Jack had dragged him into a partnership because he'd been so unspeakably desperate for company that he latched onto the first stranger that caught his attention. David had been hard not to notice, making a scene like that on his very first day.

“Want me to be honest?”

“Yeah,” David said warily. “I can take it.”

“I thought you were the bravest person I ever met.”

David couldn't help the bitter laugh that escaped him. “I thought you said you were going to be honest, Jack. You're just–”

“I ain't improving the truth,” Jack insisted with a smile, jostling David good-naturedly. “I'm serious. Yeah, you stumbled into the square looking like a lost puppy, but you left it a million times more confident than you was before. You stood right beside us and took a chance when not even Spot Conlon would, at first. You marched right into Pulitzer's office and made him listen to you like it was nothin’. That's pretty brave, Davey.”

“I guess so.”

“Whaddya mean, you ‘guess so?’”

“I just…” David sighed, deflating. “That’s not really me. That's not who I am, but I wish it was. This is going to sound really pathetic, but I've never felt more alive in my life than I did that week. I'm not an interesting person, Jack. I'm not brave or strong, and I never know what to say. I barely even know what's going on half the time.”

David's voice tapered out, and Jack wanted to grab him by his shoulders and shake him. He couldn't believe it was really Davey saying all of this.

“The only reason I was able to do any of that is because of you, Jack,” David said ruefully. “You inspire people to do great things.”

“And you don't?”

David regarded Jack strangely, like he was talking in tongues or something. “Not even close, Jack. You were the one who got the other newsies invested in our cause.”

“Using your words.” Jack was starting to get a little angry at David. Considering that David had probably been crying a short time before Jack made his way up there, Jack managed to hold his tongue. “Doesn't matter who was saying ‘em. That was all you.”

“It does matter, Jack. There's something about you that…” David's face colored a little, “commands people's attention.”

“You command my attention all the time.”

“Jack.” David wanted to swat at him, but just ended up smiling. “Telling you not to jump on the fire escape isn't the same as making a speech to hundreds of people. And you know me, anyway. It's different. You care what I have to say. Some of the time, at least.”

Jack knew that last part was meant to come off as a joke, but he wasn't all that amused.

“All of the time,” Jack corrected him resolutely, giving him a slap on the back. “I always care what you got to say. But that don't mean I'll always listen.”

“So you're admitting that you have selective hearing.”

“What was that?”

David glared at him, scrunching up his nose and making that exasperated face Jack loved. An easy grin spread across his own, and for the moment it seemed that David was feeling better than he was before.

Emboldened, Jack cleared his throat, careful about his words.

“So what're you askin’ me that for anyway, Dave? You think I don't like you anymore or something?”

David's face dropped, remembering his initial line of questioning. For some reason he felt embarrassed about it, now that he'd calmed down and could breathe properly again.

“It’s not you. Or anything you've done. Sometimes, it… just feels like there isn't any reason for anybody to like me, or even want to be around me. I guess I just want to know what your reason for still being here is.”

“Well I do wanna be around you, for one,” Jack said defensively, offended at the thought anybody wouldn't want to be around David and hear whatever he had to say. “And secondly, I'm still here ‘cause I like you a lot. That's how simple it is.”

David opened his mouth to object, then closed it. The answer didn't totally satisfy his curiosity, but it would do for the time being. Jack wouldn't force himself into hanging around somebody he didn't like. He could easily make friends with anybody he wanted; he had to have a reason for choosing David, of all people. He trusted Jack was telling the truth, even if he didn't elaborate as extensively as David wanted.

Suddenly David became very aware of how close they were sitting, and how warm Jack's arm was around him.

“What do you say we get outta here?” Jack said, snapping David out of whatever trance he'd slipped under.

“And go where?”

“Get something to eat. I'm starved. You ate yet?”

David shook his head. “I should get my coat. And, um, tell my parents I'm going.”

Jack eyed him curiously. “Did they say something to you?”

“What? About what?”

“I dunno. I just figured there had to be a reason you’s out here instead of in there.” Jack jabbed his thumb toward the window, starting to get up, leaving his coat where he'd left it on David.

When he was standing he extended a hand down to David, who took it and hoisted himself up as well. His legs were numb from sitting uncomfortably for so long. Now that he was up, he felt the full force of the fall weather hit him, sending a shiver down his spine.

“That is,” said Jack, “less you'd rather not say.”

“Not right now,” David murmured, shifting on his feet. Jack was still holding onto his hand. He sucked in some of the cold air, heart quivering. “Maybe over dinner.”

Jack nodded at him, his eyes lingering on David's now that they were finally face to face.

“All right, Davey.” Jack let go of him, and nudged him gently toward the window. “Go on and tell them. Grab a hat, too. It's gonna rain soon.”

[the-old-moss]

☕Color assigning newsies day 8☕

Requested by @maggs-is-a-muppet

[superdogkrypto]

FATHER!