sometimes you have to put yourself out there to make a difference.
by doc. an old as dirt 92sies og with mad respect for je.rjor please reblog!!!
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pixel skylines
Xuebing Du
Not today Justin
i don't do bad sauce passes
hello vonnie

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will byers stan first human second
$LAYYYTER

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Cosimo Galluzzi
noise dept.
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Misplaced Lens Cap
DEAR READER

ellievsbear

Love Begins
Cosmic Funnies
Three Goblin Art

Discoholic 🪩
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@itsjackkelly
sometimes you have to put yourself out there to make a difference.
by doc. an old as dirt 92sies og with mad respect for je.rjor please reblog!!!
IM SORRY I FORGOT ABOUT JACK BC I FINALLY CAVED AND MADE THE CAESAR BLOG COME TO LIFE SO LIKE @showmade is where he lives IF YOU DID NOT KNOW THIS ALREADY.
im comin back dontcha worry yer pretty lil erster
🗞️ guys icymi on Gale I broke my keyboard so I'm banished to mobile until I can replace it so pls bear with me and
🗞️ Like this post if you're okay with rping with me while I can't cut any posts!
Hands move tentatively, uncertain, hesitant, to rest half on Jack's shoulders, half on his chest. One moves to his heart, to see if it's hammering just as hard as his is. "Can't get rid o' me that easy," he mumbles a little, gaze lowered. He's scared, he can't deny that, even with all his bravado. Fingers fidget a little with the lapel of Jack's waistcoat, he's never been the sort to keep very still for long. Always moving, always on the run.
Race's cheeks flush darker as Jack steals another kiss, and in a gesture that feels perhaps a little childish, he shifts forward a little, dropping his head so he can tuck under the taller boy's chin, pressing close. Almost desperate for that little crumb of reassurance, of comfort. Jack is warm, solid, steady, a vast contrast to Race and his constant movement and constantly cold fingers and toes. Still, his brain is relentless, "What 'bout Davey?"
jack's heart is definitely hammering just as hard as racetrack's under the younger's hand. so much so that jack fears it may actually fly out of his chest and kill them both. the thought and race's mumble has jack beaming brighter than the sun in santa fe at noon.
when race tucks under jack's chin, his arms wrap around him, gentle but firm, protective. jack's hands rub gently at the other's back before clutching him a little tighter, not enough to hurt, just enough to reassure.
"what about 'im? davey ain't you, race. i know i get excited 'bout the strike an' all, but i promise," he says, taking racetrack's face gently in his hands, thumbs brushing lightly over his cheeks as jack's eyes search the other's. "i'm yours," he says. "you don't gotta worry 'bout nobody else steppin' in... think i always been yours. jus' didn't know it til now..." he says, holding the other's gaze. there's no playful joking, no sarcastic response. just an honest truth and a soft, real smile.
That soft, little noise drew Jack's lips, still very much against the other's, into a grin. The rough touch lifted, replaced by a gentle hand against racetrack's chest as the kids turned into something far less rushed, less scared, and with an apologetic press of lips to the tender spot that had been bleeding only minutes ago.
He pulls back a little, grinning from ear to ear. "So you ARE jealous," Jack teases. "I was kinda hopin' you was..." He admits in a voice that is a lot smaller than Jack's typical bravado, a sincere and honest smile as he finally dares to meet the other's eyes.
The forearm across his chest shifts, changing to a careful hand, and Race is sure that Jack must be able to feel the way his heart's hammering so hard he's afraid it might burst. This was the last thing he expected to happen today, and he's not entirely sure it's not a dream. Or maybe those factory guys hit him harder than he thought and he's actually died. Both of those things seem a more likely story than that Jack Kelly is kissing him. More gently now, soft. Surely it has to be a dream.
Jack pulls back a little, and Race can't help but stare. The grin on his face...this doesn't feel real. His cheeks are flaming scarlet, curse his pale complexion, and he blinks in confusion when Jack says he'd hoped he was jealous. "Don't mess wit' me, Jackie," Race says, voice barely above a whisper, uncertainty and confusion and still a little bit of worry in his own gaze. He couldn't bear it if Jack was messing with him. "I's can't handle that."
"I ain't," he shakes his head. "I jus'... Y'know... It ain't supposed to be like this but 'ere we are... I didn't think you, uh... Guess I's was scared you was done wi' me... Then you gotta go brawlin' an' you know I like it when you fight. Always cheerin' ya on... You should probably win one every now and then," Jack teases, that grin, this one a little... Different...
"But until ya do," a wink, "I got ya back, race..." Jack exhales slowly and his teeth press softly into his own bottom lip and he steals a quick, soft kiss. "Me an' you, yeah," he asks, raising a brow, his own cheeks as red as the other's.
hi guys! discord is doing a survey on how people would like ai to be integrated into discord. take it and say fuck no to every question. when you get to "in general, how do you feel about discord inegrating ai features?", respond that you would actively get everyone you know off of discord and wouldn't pay for nitro or other shop items if they added ai features.
jack shoved him back, out of instinct, though he stilled himself afterwards as race continued on.
"oh how often his name comes outta my mouth? that's bullshit, i dont' talk about davey like that," he scoffed. "but you sayin' that sure does sound like yous jealous!" he spat back, chest puffing out and shoulders straight.
"what are you even jealous of?" once again, the words were out quickly and before he put any thought into them and suddenly, there was a pang of... something... deep in his chest. was it hope? or fear? both? that maybe he was wrong about race's feelings towards him. he had spent quite a bit of time convincing himself that it was all in his own head but---
"are you jealous?" the question comes out as almost a whisper. there is no bite and no anger, just a real, genuine question because whether jack wants to admit it or not he needs a real, genuine answer.
"Pile o' crap, you ain't ever shut up about 'im! It's always davey this and oh davey thinks that, christ gimme strength!" Race spat, stumbling back a step with the shove, only to advance forward and shove again a little harder. It's practically like he's begging Jack to start brawling with him, something, anything. There are tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, and not for the first time he curses the fact that he's an angry crier.
"I said I ain't jealous!" he repeated, voice going slightly shrill as he angles for another shove. There's desperation almost in his tone, face a humdrum of emotions, anger and fear and upset and bitterness and panic. He's like a cornered animal now, breath catching in his throat, and his eyes are wild when Jack's question comes out so quietly. It's so soft, and yet it makes him flinch back.
Is he jealous? Of course he's jealous. Jealous that Davey seems to have wormed his way into Race's spot, that Jack fawns over how smart Davey is and seems to want to spend time with Davey. He's jealous and he's scared of where this strike is going.
the second shove has jack pushing the younger newsie back, hard and fast until race's back hits the wall. the moment jack puts his forearm against the other boy's chest, he completely forgets what they were talking about because suddenly, this is very different than any brawl Jack has ever been a part of.
a million thoughts run through jack's mind all at once. there is no such thing as logic and what the hell good is a damn sentence anyway?
he doesn't know what to say and race is so close---the way he is in jack's dreams sometimes---and jack is speechless without a backup plan as he slams his lips against the other's in a fiery kiss and waits to see if he's right or if he'll get punched in the face.
Before he can blink, Jack has him slammed against the wall, the impact knocking the wind from him, and the taller boy's forearm is pressed across his chest, holding him in place (and making his ribs smart a little admittedly, still tender from his earlier troublemaking). Race's breath catches in his throat, body bracing for the soaking he's sure he's inevitably going to get.
But then there's a pause. Jack's face is so close, practically nose to nose with him, and he daren't even breathe. Still, his eyes flicker to the others lips, the way they're slightly parted. He shouldn't be looking at them, he really shouldn't. All he can do is hold deathly still, hoping that Jack won't soak him too bad.
And then suddenly, without warning, Jack's lips are on his, and Race's eyes go wide for a moment before fluttering shut, a soft, almost pathetic mewl escaping him as he melts into the kiss. Maybe this is a dream. That has to be it, because he can't imagine why Jack would kiss him otherwise. The force of it is a little painful from his split lip, but he presses into it nonetheless.
That soft, little noise drew Jack's lips, still very much against the other's, into a grin. The rough touch lifted, replaced by a gentle hand against racetrack's chest as the kids turned into something far less rushed, less scared, and with an apologetic press of lips to the tender spot that had been bleeding only minutes ago.
He pulls back a little, grinning from ear to ear. "So you ARE jealous," Jack teases. "I was kinda hopin' you was..." He admits in a voice that is a lot smaller than Jack's typical bravado, a sincere and honest smile as he finally dares to meet the other's eyes.
jack shoved him back, out of instinct, though he stilled himself afterwards as race continued on.
"oh how often his name comes outta my mouth? that's bullshit, i dont' talk about davey like that," he scoffed. "but you sayin' that sure does sound like yous jealous!" he spat back, chest puffing out and shoulders straight.
"what are you even jealous of?" once again, the words were out quickly and before he put any thought into them and suddenly, there was a pang of... something... deep in his chest. was it hope? or fear? both? that maybe he was wrong about race's feelings towards him. he had spent quite a bit of time convincing himself that it was all in his own head but---
"are you jealous?" the question comes out as almost a whisper. there is no bite and no anger, just a real, genuine question because whether jack wants to admit it or not he needs a real, genuine answer.
"Pile o' crap, you ain't ever shut up about 'im! It's always davey this and oh davey thinks that, christ gimme strength!" Race spat, stumbling back a step with the shove, only to advance forward and shove again a little harder. It's practically like he's begging Jack to start brawling with him, something, anything. There are tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, and not for the first time he curses the fact that he's an angry crier.
"I said I ain't jealous!" he repeated, voice going slightly shrill as he angles for another shove. There's desperation almost in his tone, face a humdrum of emotions, anger and fear and upset and bitterness and panic. He's like a cornered animal now, breath catching in his throat, and his eyes are wild when Jack's question comes out so quietly. It's so soft, and yet it makes him flinch back.
Is he jealous? Of course he's jealous. Jealous that Davey seems to have wormed his way into Race's spot, that Jack fawns over how smart Davey is and seems to want to spend time with Davey. He's jealous and he's scared of where this strike is going.
the second shove has jack pushing the younger newsie back, hard and fast until race's back hits the wall. the moment jack puts his forearm against the other boy's chest, he completely forgets what they were talking about because suddenly, this is very different than any brawl Jack has ever been a part of.
a million thoughts run through jack's mind all at once. there is no such thing as logic and what the hell good is a damn sentence anyway?
he doesn't know what to say and race is so close---the way he is in jack's dreams sometimes---and jack is speechless without a backup plan as he slams his lips against the other's in a fiery kiss and waits to see if he's right or if he'll get punched in the face.
HELLO PLEASE I HAVE BEEN HOLDING THIS INSIDE FOR SIX ENTIRE MONTHS WITH NO ONE OTHER THAN MY DAUGHTER TO APPRECIATE IT. WE SAW FLOYD COLLINS IN NYC AND THEN A MONTH LATER WE SAW AGE OF MADNESS CLOSER TO HOME AND JEREMY JORDAN SIGNED MY CANE 😭😭😭
Let me tell you what I'd wished I'd known...
when I was young and dreamed of glory...
davey as the first guy.
blonde cop is crutchie. middle is racetrack. right is jack. farva is finch.
@whatsbehindthefacade
"Good thing too, I'm outta thread." He'll need to find more soon, maybe see if Buttons can scrouge some up for him. Finch thankfully doesn't need to try his hand at stitches too often, but he'd rather be prepared, just in case. Life was always throwing them curveballs, so he liked to be well stocked up.
Finch rolls his eyes playfully at the scrunch of the nose and the laugh, unfolding the bandages and beginning to wrap one around Jack's leg, keeping it tight, but not too tight, just as he's practiced. "Sure do wish you guys found other forms o' fun that didn't give me grey hairs. Maybe try carol singing or something like that."
"you want me to sing? ill sing for ya, finchy," jack chuckled, holding his h and to his chest and singing out, "finchhhhhhh! he's the greatest doc in all a' new york!!! be nice or he'll stick ya with a fork!!!!!!!" his arm upheld as he belted out the note.
"should i keep carolin'? also, it ain't christmas for almost a whole 'nother year now so maybe we should do some otha kinda carolin'!" he laughed.
"I ain't jealous of that square!"
Race's temper flared as he pushed himself upright, and in a mixture of a spark of temper and wanting Jack to step away from him, he reached out and shoved him back a step. He was goddamn sick of hearing about Davey, and all his bright ideas, when the kid had no real clue what it was like to be in any of their positions. He got to go home each night, to his own bed, to his parents. He got Jack's attention on him every time he so much as breathed for crying out loud.
It was like his entire body was in fight or flight, like it was right back in the fight with the factory boys, and it wanted fight. Wanted to push and shove and scratch because maybe at least that way he'd have a little bit of attention, feel something other than internal panic. "Jesus, you never stop goin' on about him, he should be payin' rent for how often his name comes outta your mouth."
jack shoved him back, out of instinct, though he stilled himself afterwards as race continued on.
"oh how often his name comes outta my mouth? that's bullshit, i dont' talk about davey like that," he scoffed. "but you sayin' that sure does sound like yous jealous!" he spat back, chest puffing out and shoulders straight.
"what are you even jealous of?" once again, the words were out quickly and before he put any thought into them and suddenly, there was a pang of... something... deep in his chest. was it hope? or fear? both? that maybe he was wrong about race's feelings towards him. he had spent quite a bit of time convincing himself that it was all in his own head but---
"are you jealous?" the question comes out as almost a whisper. there is no bite and no anger, just a real, genuine question because whether jack wants to admit it or not he needs a real, genuine answer.
@frxncaise asked: “And the gossip in New York City is insidious.”
"ins.... huh?" jack says, his face scrunching up trying to figure out what the hell that word means from context, but he has NOTHIN". he had been following the conversation up to this point, but the word and its meaning is completely lost on him.
"'s that a fancy french word again?" he asks with a cheeky grin.
So perhaps he'd been a little bit more hot tempered of late, a little more reckless. It wasn't as if he was overly calm in the first place, but he had rather amped up this past while. More stubborn, more argumentative, practically looking for fights and putting himself in stupid situations that he was usually pretty good at avoiding. So maybe this whole strike thing had him stressed. Maybe he'd spent half his savings on making sure the littles all had a bit extra to eat. Maybe he'd figured that the easiest way to get a sliver of attention from Jack these days was to get himself in trouble.
In all honesty, Race was a little jealous. He was Jack's second in command, or at least, he was supposed to be, but then Davey had shown up and then they were striking. Davey had brains, had been to school, had all these smart ideas. And just like that, it felt like he'd been muscled out. Scowling, the younger newsie stared at the floor, avoiding Jack's gaze as he spat out, "I ain't stupid."
"then what is you?" jack spat back, though he was not squared up to fight.
he had no idea what was going on in race's head. he also had no idea that race was dipping into his own savings and feeding the littles a bit more. he had no idea what the consequences of going on strike meant and he had no idea what he was even doing.
it felt right, though. standing up for what you believed in. for what you loved most.
that's when it hit jack like a freight train. all he could see were glimpses from his own peripherals of race moving farther and farther from his side. with davey in full focus.
"jesus, race, are you jealous of davey?" the words are out before even a molecule of thought goes into them. jack himself doesn't even realize that's kind of a loaded question in so many more ways than one.
"I had 'em on the ropes," Race's tone is petulant, like a scolded child, and he rather looks like one given the pout he's displaying, though the image is somewhat marred by the blood still staining his skin. Another lie, and he's well aware of that, but he has a reputation to uphold, goddammit.
"I don't need a babysitter, I ain't five." No, when he'd been five he'd been shining shoes on the street, and then not too long after, he'd been in the refuge. Back where he'd first met Jack. "Where's the fun in that? Ain't a good game o' cards if ya can't keep everybody on their toes." He'd managed to nab a few of the coins at least before they'd decided to pummel him. Pros and cons and all that. Catching the handkerchief, he rolled his eyes, but dabbed at his chin like Jack directed.
jack listened as he rambled on, throwing in an eye roll or two and nodded when race had gotten all the blood off his chin. "keepin' 'em on their toes is one thing, but this is the third night this week y'came in bleedin' like a stuck pig and it's only the third night a th'week, race. the hell are you tryin' to prove? we're tryna unite the newsies under the same damn banner and you're out here pickin' fights over a couple a' extra aces." his tone was less playful now, more concerned and more heated honestly. it hadn't immediately dawned on jack until he noticed the cut on the other side of race's cheek from two nights ago and it all clicked together.
"look me in my eyes an' tell me you ain't tryna get yourself killed or somethin' equally as stupid..." jack all but demanded as he moved to stand in front of racetrack, holding his gaze.