@corbinthecowboy i’m sorry this is so late but this is your secret santa gift for @newsies-secret-santa

anyways!! sorry again for the delay, but i hope your holiday season was safe and good :)

Ice Cold, Burning Up

Happy Holidays, @nowisthetimetocarrythebanner. This is your gift for the @newsies-secret-santa gift exchange. It is some spoy tomlon, enemies to lovers smut.

THIS IS EXPLICIT. NSFW content below the cut. You have been warned.

Hope you like it!

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hi @maggs-is-a-muppet! i’m your secret santa! @newsies-secretsanta i’ve never actually watched the movie, so i finally got around to watching it! this may not be entirely accurate, as i’m used to the musical version, but i hope you enjoy some fluffy jarah regardless! happy holidays!!

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This is @wineandhargreeves gift for the Newsies Holiday Exchange!

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meant to be made into art

jack kelly x davey jacobs (freshman college roommates au)

summary: davey might like his new roommate more than he was expecting to.

a/n: hi @faded-dragon-flys !! i’m your secrect santa for @newsies-secret-santa !! this is being posted a little later than i wanted so i’m really sorry about that but i hope you like it!! i hope you’ve had a happy holidays and that you have a wonderful new years :)

masterlist

_________

College was….okay. It wasn’t that Davey wasn’t excited to have more freedom and to finally be able to pursue his interests, but the entire experience was incredibly nerve-wracking. Classes and coursework were enough stress on their own, but the addition of living away from home for the first time in a new place with a stranger for a roommate wasn’t exactly ideal. Not that his roommate wasn’t fine, he was —mostly. He had a horrible sleep schedule and he was a little messy and he sometimes listened to his music too loud, but Davey had many of the same flaws. So, yeah, Davey could mostly handle Jack.

It had been a bit of a shock the second week when he had been up at an ungodly hour writing for one of his classes and Jack, who he had assumed was sleeping somewhere else for the night, had returned from one of the school’s art studios splattered with paint. From the look on Jack’s face, it had been a bit of a shock for him, too. But after the initial surprise had passed Jack had laughed quietly and Davey’s cheeks had flushed the lightest of pinks because, oh, Jack had a really nice laugh. Davey had laughed a little, too, once he got his faint blush under control, and they had stayed up a little longer to talk before going to sleep. There were plenty of late night encounters in the following weeks, but that first one lingered in Davey’s mind — the way the paint on Jack’s face had accentuated his jawline, the way his smile had spread across his face so easily. His laughter had been soft but, with the quiet of the room, the sound of it had wrapped itself around Davey so firmly that he had felt it in his chest.

Keep reading

~~~~~

Words: 1004

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, panic attacks

Jack was, of course, painting when Davey returned to their apartment.

The exhausted high school teacher collapsed on to the couch face down, flinging his bag away from him. Jack looked up sharply. Davey never threw around his belongings like that. Nor did he ever come straight home and not greet Jack.

“Hey Davey, you alright?”

“…”

His silence was answer enough.

“Dave, what’s the matter, huh?”

Jack abandoned his painting and went over to his boyfriend, who remained sprawled on the couch.

“Go away.”

“Davey, you’re worrying me.”

“Leave me alone, Jack.”

David got up abruptly, stalking into their room and slamming the door. Jack sat motionless, for a good few minutes, his brain struggling to comprehend what had just happened. Slowly, he picked up his phone and dialed Sarah.

“Jack? What’s up?”

“It’s Davey. He ain’t doing so well.”

“What’s the matter with Davey?” a voiced chimed in. Katherine.

“Oh hey Kath. It’s just that Davey’s just come home and… god, how do I describe it. He seems angry? Like, in a Not Davey way. The Davey way is to yell about it and pace. He’s not talking to me, Sarah, he hasn’t said a word. I’m worried.”

She was silent for a few moments.

“You know he has anxiety, right?.”

“Yeah.”

“It used to be so much worse than it is now. In high school, he could barely go a week without a panic attack. Occasionally, his anxiety can dial up back to how it was when he was in high school. It was really bad, Jack.”

“Oh shit. I didn’t know that.”

“Well, now you do. Don’t leave him alone. He could be danger to himself.”

Jack nodded, before remembering it was a voice call.

“Yeah, yeah I can do that. Thanks Sarah. Bye Kath.”

The girls offered their farewells before hanging up. Jack went to Davey’s door, wondering if he would be more successful this time. He knocked softly, three times.

The rustling on the other side of the door ceased and everything was quiet for a few seconds. Then, the door cracked open and Davey’s tearstained face looked through.

“Dave…”

Davey shook his head before opening the door wider and falling into Jack’s arms, sobs wracking his body as he clung to Jack’s shirt.

“I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey now, shh, don’t be sorry. You did nothing wrong. You wanna talk?”

Davey shook his head. Jack breathed out through his nose before guiding Davey to sit on the bed, wrapping an arm around the distraught man.

They sat like that, Jack rubbing circles into Davey’s shoulder as he calmed down, gradually regaining control of his breathing and the tears stopping. He sighed and leaned into Jack’s embrace, closing his eyes.

“You better now?”

Davey nodded.

“Are you ready to talk yet?”

Davey hesitated, before nodding and pulling away.

“So, what happened, huh?”

Davey took a shuddering breath.

“It’s really stupid… but there was a false fire alarm at school, and it was mostly fine at first but then I tried calling you but you weren’t picking up and I started panicking because anxiety, yay, and another teacher had to take care of my class because I was having a goddamn panic attack and I feel like because it was a false alarm and I blew it out of proportion and- yeah. It’s really stupid I should go.”

Davey stood up to leave, fully prepared to bolt from the room.

“Davey, no.”

Jack grabbed Davey’s wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

“Come, sit.”

Jack gently sat Davey down next to him, turning so that they were facing each other. Davey avoided his eyes. Jack huffed and lifted Davey’s chin, forcing him to make eye contact.

“It’s not your fault your brain’s like that, ya hear me? And it’s my fault for not having my phone turned on. I know how bad your anxiety can get, Davey. I’m so sorry I didn’t pick up. But nothing is your fault, ok? So stop beating yourself up.”

Davey’s expression was skeptical. Jack could almost sense him preparing to argue.

“No, don’t even start. Don’t argue with me. It’s just the anxiety talking, you hear me?”

Davey looked away and opened his mouth.

“B-but…”

Jack took a good look at Davey. Registering the dark shadows under his red eyes and his trembling hands, he pulled him into a hug.

“We’ll continue talking about this tomorrow, okay, love? You look really tired. How do you feel about ordering pizza for dinner?”

Davey buried his face in Jack’s shoulder and nodded.

“Yeah… that sounds good.”

Jack went out to the kitchen, calling to order the pizza. Davey followed, promptly curling up on the corner of their couch. He closed his eyes briefly.

A little sleep won’t hurt, he thought.

When Jack finished the call and went back to the living room, he was greeted by the sight of a sleeping Davey. He smiled slightly, tucking his phone away and gently placing a blanket over his boyfriend’s sleeping figure. He kissed his forehead before settling down on the other side of the couch, bringing up Netflix.

He spotted a new Netflix original that looked interesting. ‘The Prom’, it was called. He shrugged and played it, waiting for the pizza to arrive.

When the doorbell finally rang, Davey opened his eyes blearily.

“Pizza?”

Jack laughed.

“Yeah, pizza.”

He paused the movie and got up, paying the delivery man and bringing the pizza to the coffee table.

“Pepperoni. Your favourite.”

“Thanks Jack.”

Davey sat up, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders. He took a slice and sank back into the couch, eyes fixed on the screen.

“How’re you feeling now?”

Davey smiled a little, looking up at Jack.

“A lot better now. Thank you.”

Jack smiled back.

“Anytime.”

Jack shifted over, slinging his arm around Davey, who smiled and nestled into Jack’s side. He twisted up and kissed Jack, before settling back down.

“Love you Jack.”

Jack leaned down and kissed Davey again.

“Love you too Dave.”

~~~~~

coherent storyline whomst????

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28310385

Ice Cold, Burning Up

Happy Holidays, @nowisthetimetocarrythebanner. This is your gift for the @newsies-secret-santa gift exchange. It is some spoy tomlon, enemies to lovers smut.

THIS IS EXPLICIT. NSFW content below the cut. You have been warned.

Hope you like it!

Keep reading

Newsies Secret Santa 2020

As part of @newsies-secret-santa, my giftee this year is @kathreestars! I hope you like this little Redfinch playlist I’ve crafted for you, Izzy!

The Musician and the Common Man

“A playlist told through flipping perspectives- Finch and Albert see themselves as lone travellers, but their paths and lives become entangled together. Finch’s music will play, then Albert’s, and so on.“

Tracklist and links below the cut

Keep reading

you were shunned and burned your cradle

Newsies Gen PG 4,365 words AO3 Living in New York isn’t easy for a boy on his own. It’s worse for Crutchie between his leg and the air itself trying to poison him. But things really can only go up.  For @i-got-personality as part of @newsies-secret-santa! You said you like Crutchie, canon era, and any kind of magic and well I hope that you like this!

Being a changeling in New York City hurts. It makes his skin itch and his lungs burn and his eyes water. From the iron that surrounds him, fills the very air along with the smoke. If he’s not careful when he reaches out or brushes against something his skin comes away with a sharp, searing scar.

Being a changeling hurts in a different way too. Knowing that, for whatever reason, his mother gave him up. That a human baby was far preferable to him and so he was left in some other child’s crib. To make matters worse, he was given up twice. That hurt even more.

On his crueler days, the ones filled with self-loathing, he blames himself. That it was some personal failing, his bum leg perhaps, that made his mother exchange him. That the same failing is why the woman who believed herself his mother threw him out onto the street. Logically, he knows this isn’t the case. For one, he remembers what happened to his leg and it involved an iron poker that proved to his mother he wasn’t really hers as fear burned in her eyes.

Being a changeling in New York hurts and it’s hard too. Trying to grow, to thrive, in a city that was made in opposition to your very nature. It’s even harder when you’re just a kid. When you’re living on the streets. His first few nights are the worst. He’s cold and hungry and tired and he hurts. Oh does he hurt.

Being a changeling is no walk in the park, though ironically walks in the park help some. Help a lot. Until he tires. But being a changeling in a city as big as New York means you’re not alone. Well, you’re never alone but there’s others too. If you know how to spot them.

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Rubber Bands and Rainbow Houses

a gift for @spot-king-of-brooklyn for the newsies for the @newsies-secret-santa

Pairing - Blink/Mush

Soulmate AU

you were shunned and burned your cradle

Newsies Gen PG 4,365 words AO3 Living in New York isn’t easy for a boy on his own. It’s worse for Crutchie between his leg and the air itself trying to poison him. But things really can only go up.  For @i-got-personality as part of @newsies-secret-santa! You said you like Crutchie, canon era, and any kind of magic and well I hope that you like this!

Being a changeling in New York City hurts. It makes his skin itch and his lungs burn and his eyes water. From the iron that surrounds him, fills the very air along with the smoke. If he’s not careful when he reaches out or brushes against something his skin comes away with a sharp, searing scar.

Being a changeling hurts in a different way too. Knowing that, for whatever reason, his mother gave him up. That a human baby was far preferable to him and so he was left in some other child’s crib. To make matters worse, he was given up twice. That hurt even more.

On his crueler days, the ones filled with self-loathing, he blames himself. That it was some personal failing, his bum leg perhaps, that made his mother exchange him. That the same failing is why the woman who believed herself his mother threw him out onto the street. Logically, he knows this isn’t the case. For one, he remembers what happened to his leg and it involved an iron poker that proved to his mother he wasn’t really hers as fear burned in her eyes.

Being a changeling in New York hurts and it’s hard too. Trying to grow, to thrive, in a city that was made in opposition to your very nature. It’s even harder when you’re just a kid. When you’re living on the streets. His first few nights are the worst. He’s cold and hungry and tired and he hurts. Oh does he hurt.

Being a changeling is no walk in the park, though ironically walks in the park help some. Help a lot. Until he tires. But being a changeling in a city as big as New York means you’re not alone. Well, you’re never alone but there’s others too. If you know how to spot them.

Keep reading

gen z reporter kath!

i love her so much like-. ft both versions because i couldn’t decide which shirt i liked better

happy holidays @thelittleredheadedmusician this is your gift for the @newsies-secret-santa!

@nonbinary-newsboy happy holidays! I was your Secret Santa for @newsies-secret-santa!

I know you mentioned that you like nonbinary Crutchie, so I drew them waving a little pride flag- I hope you like it!

I hope the rest of your season is fantastic!