Poetic Devices My Beloved, Writing Poetry By Beloathed

nothing feeds into my newsies fixation more than going to newsies rehearsal four times a week :3

cringe is dead cringe is dead cringe is dead cringe is dead cringe is de

holy fuck every newsies opinion is so correct. i LOVE you guys

guys i survived tech week AND show week. pls cheer

im recording myself singing Santa Fe prologue for my jack audition and honestly I would rather kms than listen back 😭😭

anyway! shoutout to all real artists in and around the newsies fandom. whatever your level of “skill” is, however you feel about your own art, however frequently you draw, whether you even share it at all - if you have ever picked up a pencil or a crayon or a stylus or a paintbrush or your finger on a touch screen, and created a doodle or a drawing or a painting of a character or a setting or a scene that you love, i love you. you are so important. you are everything. and ai will never, ever be able to create anything that matters even a sliver of how much your art matters. please keep going.

in monopoly I am so certain Davey would LOSE his shit .... he would go INSANE .... literally like scratching at the walls because he's so competitive ...

SPRINTS INTO YOUR ASK BOX, doubles over panting .

javey oneshot in a storm at night, jack stays the night at davey's and they're both exhausted so emotions come to the forefront a little faster than usual .......

PLEASE . PLEASE .... I would cry ..... bee ily so much ... bonus points if jack gets a shower for the first time since Davey has met him and he's all clean and pretty ...

bee I would cry ... no pressure tho !!!! I love ur writing so much ...

(Note: I’m super sorry that this was so late, but I absolutely loved writing this! I hope you enjoy it, and thank you so much for requesting something! 😁)

Jack watched Davey from the doorway as the taller boy turned the next page of his book, humming softly to himself and methodically tapping the cover of the book, almost perfectly in time with the rain pummeling the ground outside.

It was darker than it should have been, thanks to the storm, but Jack didn’t mind one bit. Davey’s face looked warm and soft in the candlelight, a far cry from the expression the world usually knew, the one framed by lines of worry and tired eyes.

He seemed so peaceful that Jack felt as if he was watching a moment more private than it was, his friend’s outer shell stripped away and leaving him vulnerable.

Davey glanced up, smiling when he saw Jack in the doorway, and a blush spread across the other newsie’s face as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, feeling quite small.

“Hey, Jackie,” Davey greeted him, scooting over and patting the ground beside him, not noticing Jack’s face getting warmer as he sat down. He nodded at a small bead of water on Jack’s arm, left from where he didn’t dry it. “Feel better?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah,” Jack replied, running a hand through his damp hair. “Thanks for lettin’ me stay, by the way.” He shot him a smile. “Means a lot.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble.” Davey yawned softly, and Jack felt a pang of longing shoot through him, one which he tried to ignore. There’s no way he feels the same, Jack, he scolded himself.

Gaining a tiny bit of courage, Jack threw a relaxed arm around Davey, nearly nodding off in the combined warmth of both the wool coat he’d borrowed and Davey’s form next to him.

He was exhausted. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this tired- maybe the strike? No matter how long it had been, Jack’s mind was in shambles.

He felt Davey shift, wrapping his arms around him, snuggling into his neck. Jack fought back the urge to kiss him right then and there, opting instead to reach over and tangle their hands together, chuckling softly as Davey glanced up at him with a lazy smile.

“You’re amazing. You know that, right?” Davey whispered, closing his eyes and leaning into Jack’s arms. “I can see why Kath likes you so much.”

“Really?” Jack asked, wondering if he’d heard him correctly. “What does that mean?”

Davey looked up at him, a peculiar look in his eyes- one that Jack had never seen before, one that told him all he needed to know. You know what it means.

Perhaps it was that look, or maybe the drunken tiredness they both felt, but Jack leaned forward and kissed him, pulling him closer. Davey’s lips were soft, just like he’d imagined, and he tasted like cinnamon and warmth. Davey smiled into the kiss, and Jack gave him a final peck before pulling back, still holding him tight.

“It’s late,” Davey muttered, laying his head on Jack’s shoulder and closing his eyes. Jack rubbed small circles into his back, his heart full to the brim with love.

“G’night, Dave,” he whispered. “Sleep well.”

From then until the sun rose, there was no sound save for the rain pattering lightly on the window, soothing the two boys to sleep in each other’s embrace.

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-

been getting oddly into poetry recently maybe I make a side account for that