#spec is a chaotic dumbass

[hikarinokusari]

FF14 Writes 2022 - #1 Cross

[Masterlist] --- [About FFXIV Writes]

ENTRY #001 - “CROSS” - AU : Le Vol des Ailes Noires - 2836 mots

Inspiration : “Cross” ou “Croix” :  Un objet qui permet de soigner l’altération d'état Malédiction.

Résumé : Spectral rentre maudit d’une de ses pérégrinations personnelles après avoir joué avec de la magie nécrotique qu’il ne comprend ni ne sait utiliser. Eligos finit par comprendre qu’il est maudit et invoque par son pacte de sang un “ami” de longue date pour soigner le jeune guerrier de lumière. Le mage matérialise un artéfact ancien, un cristal violet pour absorber l’éther maudit du lancier. 

Texte non relu, sans queue ni grand sens ni tête.

-          «  Ta prime, comme convenue. »

Le Miqo’te ramassa d’un geste souple la bourse de gils posée sur la table sans mot dire et l’accrocha à l’une de ses ceintures. Il patienta quelques secondes comme à l’affût d’une nouvelle mission de son employeur mais rien ne vint. Au lieu d’entendre la voix mielleuse glisser des lèvres fines du paladin d’Halone, il vit ses sourcils s’arquer et sa tête faire un mouvement incompréhensif :

-          «  Qu’est-ce que tu attends ? »

-          «  Donne-moi un autre contrat. »

Les paupières du métisse se plissèrent et il considéra un moment le chasseur avant de lui dire d’un ton doucereux :

-          «  Je n’en ai pas d’autres. Ils ont tous été accomplis ou pris par les autres membres de notre joyeuse compagnie. » Il vit le visage de son employé se crisper de frustration et son regard se durcir – il le devinait malgré la lourde capuche rabattue sur le sommet de son crâne. « Je peux t’envoyer en renfort peut-être, mais le temps que tu arrives sur place avec ton dindon, les créatures seront certainement abattues. »

Un grognement de colère étouffée remonta le long de la gorge du lancier alors que son poing ganté se resserrait sur la table. Il n’aimait pas qu’on désigne sa monture pour ce qu’elle était mais il ravala toute remarque à ce sujet et insista  :

-          « N’importe quoi fera l’affaire. Un béhémot, des coeurls, des vers de sable. Je prends tout. »

-          « Vous avez abattu le dernier béhémot dangereux du Coerthas il y a quelques semaines. Ukiyo refuse qu’on touche aux coeurls, quand bien même ils seraient dangereux. Quant aux vers des sables … Sérieusement ? »

-          « Qui peut bien se soucier des caprices de ce gosse ? » cracha le miqo’te.

-          « Si jamais j’autorise la chasse aux coeurls, je perdrai « ce gosse ». Je préfère passer le prestige d’abattre une Regina et sa meute à quelqu’un d’autre plutôt que de perdre de vue ce petit. » expliqua sèchement Eligos. « Prends plutôt du temps pour te reposer en attendant que d’autres bestioles prolifèrent. Je n’ai rien à te proposer. »

-          « Alors donne moi d’autres proies plus petites. » persista-t-il. « Des loups. Des bombos.  Des souris du néant profond. Qu’importe. »

Le paladin croisa les bras avant de s’adosser contre la chaise de fortune de l’auberge où ils s’étaient donné rendez-vous. Spectral n’était pas homme à se soucier des petites chasses mineures, il avait dépassé ce stade depuis plusieurs mois maintenant. Il l’avait vu devenir un traqueur avide de proies toujours plus dangereuses et se désintéresser des petites créatures mineures qui ne posaient jamais de réels problèmes. Il était facile de deviner ses motifs en général. Tout ce que le Miqo’te faisait de ses journées était destiné à détourner ses pensées des pensées noires qu’il ruminait sans discontinuer. Pourtant, lorsque les missions étaient accomplies, il était courant de voir le chasseur disparaître et se complaire dans sa mélancolie morbide. Un tel excès de zèle était inhabituel.

-          « Serais-tu en manque d’adrénaline ? »

-          «  J’ai besoin d’argent Elly. Donne-moi quelque chose à faire. »

-          « D’ordinaire, on me demande une prime de chasse, pas plus de travail. » s’amusa le chevalier. « Il me semble t’avoir amplement rétribué pour tes derniers exploits alors dis-moi … Dans quel genre d’excentricités et fumisteries comptes-tu dépenser mon argent cette fois-ci. Courses de poulets, alchimie illicite ou pseudo-magie ? »

Le miqo’te garda le silence, laissant la question de son employeur en suspens. Il semblait s’agiter sur sa chaise comme la première fois où ils s’étaient rencontrés. De toute évidence, Spectral pesait à nouveau le pour du contre à répondre. Ce n’était qu’une question de secondes avant qu’il ne lui avoue vouloir investir dans le dernier courant de magie en vogue pour les nuls qui faisait miroiter monts et merveilles à tous les déficients en éther du continent. Devant le mutisme agité de son employé, le paladin commença à s’inquiéter :

-          « Ne me dis pas que tu comptes réellement investir dans la magie bleue ? C’est une arnaque. Tu ne tireras rien de cette arnaque hormis la honte d’être tombé dans ce grossier attrape-nigaud. »

La silhouette du chasseur cessa enfin de s’agiter mais sa mâchoire et son poing restaient désespérément contractés. Le sang-mêlé allait abandonner l’affaire quand le miqo’te porta ses deux mains gantées vers son front et découvrit sa tête de la lourde capuche qui le dissimulait. Ses pupilles devenues blanchâtre se relevèrent pour croiser le regard interloqué du Paladin :

-          « Je ne suis pas sûr que l’argent te soit d’une quelconque utilité pour … quoi que ça puisse être. Tu as besoin de soins. »

Eligos se rassit en écoutant ce que le chasseur avait à dire, tout en observant sa peau étrangement grisée et craquelée.

-           «  Je suis allé à Gridania, leur Padjal m’ont dit que leur magie ne ferait qu’empirer les choses. Les astromanciens ont baragouiné quelque chose sur des portes dans le ciel et des perturbations de je ne sais quoi sans rien résoudre. Ils ont juste aggravé les choses. Ils n’étaient pas utiles. »

Le miqo’te parlait plus lentement que d’habitude, et ce faisant, il défit sa cape et enleva la chemise qu’il portait pour dévoiler sa peau semblable à de la pierre, fissurée par endroit depuis ses doigts jusqu’à la base de sa machoire.

-          « … Et la gamine qui te suit, ne verse-t-elle pas dans la magie elle aussi ? » suggéra le chevalier en examinant les fissures qui faisaient lieu de cicatrices sur la peau durcie du lancier. L’éther du miqo’te était entièrement perturbé. De toute évidence, il avait offensé le mauvais adversaire et cet adversaire s’était fait une joie de lui faire payer.

-          « Si ses mentors Padjals ne savent pas résoudre le problème, elle ne le saura pas non plus. Elle ne fera que parler, me houspiller et s’inquiéter. Je n’ai ni envie de l’entendre à longueur de journée ni envie de la voir ou de me justifier. »

-          « Tu as croisé un catoblépas récemment ? »

Eligos ignora les justifications du miqo’te. Tout ce qui lui importait était qu’il préfère s’en remettre à lui plutôt qu’à la nuisance poilue qui le suivait. Sans oser toucher la chair à l’apparence de pierre, il remonta du regard la contamination grisée qui s’étalait depuis les doigts du miqo’te jusqu’à l’un de ses pectoraux. A voir comment Spectral arrivait à mouvoir malgré les signes évidents de pétrification était un cas atypique, il le concédait. Il entendit l’autre grogner un non sans pour autant s’expliquer sur ses dernières rencontres et soupirer d’impatience : 

-          « Tu ne pourrais pas utiliser ta magie ? »

-          « Non. » grogna à son tour Eligos. « Tu es maudit, ce n’est pas de ma clémence dont tu as besoin mais celle de celui que tu as offensé … ou d’une Croix pour lever la malédiction mais elles ne courent pas les rues. »

-          «  Ou je pourrai payer le voyage jusqu’à Sharlayan et demander les soins des Sages. »

Il dévisagea alors sans vergogne le miqo’te aux yeux blancs et à la sclère grisée.

-          « Les contrats que je te donne permettent d’éviter ce genre d’incidents Spectral. Chasser dans des environnements contrôlés ce qui a besoin d’être chassé. Quand bien-même j’aurai des contrats à te confier, tu ne peux pas aller combattre dans ton état c’est irresponsable. »

-          « J’ai besoin de travail, et je suis en état de le faire. » s’entêta le chasseur. «  Plus vite tu me donneras quelque chose à abattre, plus vite je pourrai me soigner. »

-          « Par Halone, dis-moi où tu es allé que nous puissions faire une enquête. Je te donnerai ton argent. »

-          « Je ne veux pas de ta charité Eligos. » se vexa le lancier.

-           «  Réponds-moi crétin. » ordonna le métisse.

Eligos élevait rarement la voix et les insultes étaient encore plus rares. La combinaison des deux suffit à faire se tendre le miqo’te comme un chaton face à sa mère étrangement. La mâchoire de Spectral se desserra, ses oreilles s’abaissèrent honteuses et il n’eut pas le courage d’affronter le regard d’acier qui le scrutait. A demi-mot il avoua :

-          « Le Palais des Morts. Il y a des êtres du néant là-bas et… »

-          « Oui. Je sais. » le coupa l’autre. « Ce ne sont que des parasites de rang inférieurs qui grouillent là-bas. Ils ne connaissent pas l’art de la malédiction. »

-          « Il y a aussi des morts-vivants dans les étages inférieurs. » poursuivit le lancier. « Des morts-vivants et des êtres du néant ne surgissent pas de nulle part en aussi grosse quantité. J’ai voulu voir d’où ils venaient. »

Il n’y avait pas de mots qui venaient à l’esprit du Paladin pour décrire l’incroyable stupidité dont pouvait faire preuve son meilleur chasseur parfois. Il le savait solitaire et persuadé qu’une mort noble ne pouvait se faire qu’au combat, lance à la main contre un adversaire coriace. Aussi ne s’étonnait-il pas de le voir partir seul pourchasser des bêtes qui auraient tôt fait de le briser au moindre faux pas. Il le savait parfois idiot à vagabonder là où ses pas le menaient. Il s’était égaré sur des territoires dangereux pour des raisons stupides des dizaines de fois. Voir la naissance d’un bandersnatch, la migration des mammouths « au plus près », savoir si les pères bombo résultaient d’une agglomération et fusion des bombos bleus. Mais aller se donner en pâture aux créatures du néant qui s’étaient appropriées le Palais des Mort pour voir d’où elles pouvaient bien venir, c’était une première.

-          « Laisse-moi deviner. Ils apparaissent depuis des portails. »

-          « Oui. Mais il y avait aussi un mage qui les invoquait. »

La curiosité du paladin fut piquée au vif.

-          « Un mage qui invoque des familiers n’est pas réellement une menace Spectral. Les diablotins sont tout au plus des singes volants qui volent l’éther des proies des créatures bien plus puissantes qu’eux des qu’elles ont le dos tourné. »

Spectral fronça les sourcils. Il ignorait que le Paladin connaissait le comportement des êtres du néant, ce n’était pas un sujet commun à Ishgard et ce n’était pas le genre de proies qu’il faisait traquer à ses hommes. A vrai dire, Spectral n’avait jamais vu un seul mandat demandant d’éliminer des êtres du néant émaner d’Eligos.

-          «  C’était un nécromancien Eligos. Il invoquait autre chose que des diablotins là-dessous. J’ai juste voulu discuter de son Art avec lui mais il a envoyé ses créatures. Je les ai abattues et il a profité de l’affrontement pour s’enfuir. J’ai fouillé son bureau et j’ai trouvé un parchemin et un sceau. »

-          « Et comme toute personne censée ne sachant pas manipuler l’éther tu as lu le parchemin en te plaçant dans le sceau n’est-ce pas ? Un sceau de quelqu’un que tu as identifié comme nécromant. »

Les oreilles déjà baissées du Miqo’te s’affaissèrent plus bas encore. Il tenta de se justifier maladroitement en remettant ses habits :

-          « Il invoquait les âmes des défunts. J’ai pensé que peut-être je pourrai faire pareil et parler av… »

-          « Tu es un demeuré irresponsable. »

Le Paladin se releva de son siège pour s’approcher du miqo’te. D’un geste sec il l’aida à se relever et remis sans ménagement la capuche sur la tête du chasseur qui le suivit en silence. Ils errèrent un moment dans les rues d’Ishgard, sans que le métis ne lui adresse la parole. Ils passèrent par des rouelles détournées pour arriver jusqu’à un lieu que Spectral ne reconnut pas. A l’abri des grandes tours et ponts de pierre pavée de la cité, il crut d’abord avoir été conduit dans les plus bas quartiers de Brouillasse. Il ne venait pas souvent par ici. Eligos le tira d’un coup sec vers une ruelle étroite qui se finissait en cul-de-sac et le plaqua contre un mur lorsqu’un chevalier en patrouille passa par le chemin principal.

Apparemment, quoi qu’ils aient à faire ici, ça n’était pas quelque chose d’officiel.

Malgré l’argent qu’il lui avait promis en échange de la vérité, Spectral savait qu’Eligos n’avait pas des fonds inépuisables. Les derniers contrats avaient été onéreux en frais et en primes – et il le savait, ses dernières cibles étaient abattues pour satisfaire la seule volonté du Paladin. Les demandes n’émanaient ni du Clan ni des quelques privés privilégiés qui finançaient la Compagnie de la Plume Noire. Spectral redoutait que les Valraven aient épuisé les fonds qu’Eligos avait constitué à force de négocier primes et frais à rembourser. Le miqo’te craignait qu’il l’ait emmené pour assurer sa garde le temps de faire crédit auprès de personnes peu recommandables pour honorer le paiement des informations.

Plusieurs minutes passèrent alors que le gant de fer empêchait toute parole du miqo’te fiévreux plaqué contre le mur par la silhouette du Paladin qui le dominait. Enfin, l’étreinte se libéra et Spectral allait demander des comptes d’un air rageur mais il se ravisa, incompréhensif, lorsqu’Eligos défit l’un de ses gantelets et se servit d’un couteau finement ouvragé pour entailler ses doigts et tracer des signes de sang sur la lame noire de son épée. Il ne fallut que peu de temps avant qu’il n’entende l’ouverture d’un portail puis de pas vers le fond de l’impasse.

Ses pupilles blanchâtres alternèrent dans l’incompréhension la plus totale d’Eligos vers l’inconnu masqué qui était sorti de nulle part depuis ce qui semblait être un portail du néant.

-          « Je vous avais dit de me faire venir lorsque tous les contrats auraient été exécutés Ser. Il me semble que certaines clauses sont encore à honorer. » le réprimanda l’homme au masque rouge.

Spectral observa le paladin dans l’espoir qu’il lui dise de qui il s’agissait mais ce dernier l’ignora. Son regard blanchâtre passait d’un homme à l’autre dans l’espoir de comprendre.

-          « Mon compagnon est sous l’emprise d’une malédiction. Il me faut le soigner ou notre accord ne pourra être rempli. »

-          « Vous en avez d’autres pour remplir ces objectifs. »

-          « Il est le seul qui puisse abattre la cible que vous nous avez confiée. Vous seul êtes à même de le soigner sans que des indiscrets ne se mettent à poser des questions. »

L’homme au demi-masque tourna son regard sur le miqo’te sur la défensive et s’approcha de lui. Il usa de magie pour ordonner à Spectral de dévoiler les parties malades de sa peau sans qu'il ne pose de questions ou ne se rebelle. Son sort exécuté, il ne laissa pas le miqo'te s'insurger de l'emploi de la magie contre son gré pour le faire s'exécuter lorsque demander aurait suffi. Le mage plaça la paume de ses mains face à face et concentra son éther pour faire apparaître un petit cristal violacé en forme de croix au creux de ses mains. Eligos se décala d’un pas rapide de l’objet invoqué et du miqo'te en lui intimant de rester tranquille en l’entendant feuler contre l’inconnu qui usait de magie contre son gré.

Les poils hérissés, le chasseur eut bien du mal à écouter le chevalier mais il se fit violence pour obéir. Il ne comprenait pas, mais il prit sur lui de lui faire confiance et cet acte de subordination volontaire surprenant et immédiat arracha un sourire à l’homme masqué :

-          « Vous l’avez bien éduqué … »

-          « Ce n’est pas un animal, il me fait juste confiance. » le corrigea le chevalier – qui n’en pensait pas pourtant pas moins. Voir un Guerrier de la Lumière lui obéir sans poser de question le grisait plus que de raison. 

Le petit cristal se mit à briller et un lien sombre se créa depuis la roche teintée jusqu’au miqo’te qui déglutit difficilement lorsqu’il sentit l’accroche éthérée sur lui. Peu à peu, le lien se renforça mais la conscience du miqo’te eut du mal à résiter à l’échange particulier entre lui et le cristal qui tournait à la manière d’une roue à mesure que le lien croissait. Chaque seconde passée à absorber la contamination grise menaçait de le faire défaillir, comme si son énergie était aspirée de concert avec celle de la malédiction.

Enfin, alors qu’il se sentait s’évanouir, le lien se brisa violemment et lui arracha un cri de surprise douloureux. La pétrification s’était atténuée. Ses yeux reprirent des couleurs. Les fissures se colmatèrent et reprirent l’apparence des cicatrices qui barraient par endroits la peau du miqo’te

-          « Qu’est-ce que … ? » demanda-t-il, encore sonné par l’effort magique.

-           « Une croix. C’est le nom qu’on donne à ces cristaux violets. Des artéfacts créé par l’Ancienne Magie pour absorber les maux des Malédictions. »

Il allait remercier le soigneur et Eligos lorsque l’homme masqué invoqua à nouveau son portail sombre et disparut sur ces mots : 

-          « Prenez-bien soin de celui-ci. Nous aurons besoin de ses services pour éliminer certaines créatures. Considérez ce service comme le salaire d’un des contrats que nous vous avons confiés Ser… »

#story : spectral #french writing #spectral daar'jen #ffxiv writes 2022 prompt 1 #ffxiv writes #in where i just indulge myself writing about my ocs without giving any context #eligos be like no this is my food and i don't want it to have bad taste #spec is a chaotic dumbass #at this point he has already told elly about his necromancy wishes and research and is already listening exclusively to the void knight so #welp spec wake up don't be obedient please. he's a bastard stop doing whatever he says like he's you mother roasting you. #ffxivwrites2022

[spoopy-fish-writes]

🏳️‍🌈 lancelot

He gives aroace spec vibes 😌

POLYAM LANCELOT POLYAM LANCELOT! I don't know, maybe it's the whole thing with him, Harr and Sirius, maybe it's just the way that he sounded kind off to me when he was talking about the meaning of white roses but I am not budging on polyam Lancelot

Also Achillean, I am very convinced that he just likes men, that's another thing that I'm just not budging on. It just makes sense to me with him probably having a lot of internalised homophobia along side his repression of any kind of attraction that we see in his route but that comes as a side to him being aroace spec probably

Click for HQ. Do not repost or claim. Only reblog 💜

@edensrose @a-chaotic-dumbass @shad0cat @rurifangirl @kaeyas-beloved @daisiesandshakes @simplycuriouscourage @namine-somebodies-nobody @101waystobeadumbass @shameshomalo @ikesenfangirl @mellohyi @your-local-ikemen-simp @wtf-0w0 @themysticalbeing @fangirlinindia @skatercashew @character-design-who @ikesimp100 also @ndoandou

#ikerev #ikemen revolution #ikerev lancelot #lancelot kingsley #ikerev hc #ikerev headcanon #ikerev headcanons #ikemen revolution hc #ikemen revolution headcanon #ikemen revolution headcanons #ikerev fanart #ikemen revolution fanart #ikemen fanart

[ecoamerica]

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[we-are-inevitable]

Aight so you should write something of Jack and Race just straight up Vibing. I do not care what era, what au, whatever. Just some quality Jack and Race chaotic vibes if you please. Have the greatest night ever! Oh my gosh wait what if then Spot and Davey find out that the boys are being Dumbasses. That'd be funny. Anyway im tired and you should have seen all of the typos i made typing this now we should both go use the sleep.

A/N: this was SO much fun thank you oh my GOD,, it's been a hot minute since i've written anything for canon era but i rlly liked this <3 no period-typical homophobia bc i said so

Read On AO3!

***

“You are such a damn idiot,” Racetrack says as he smacks the back of Jack’s head.

And, okay, Jack knows he is, but Race didn’t have to say it.

“Can ya shut up about it?” Jack asks with a deep frown, shrugging the blond’s arm off from around his shoulders. “I already kickin’ myself; I don’t need’a hear it from you, too!”

“I can’t believe it,” Racer laughs, and throws his arms up. “Ya just lost your shot with Davey!”

“Did not!”

“Ya called him ‘angel’ in front of tha boys,” Racer sneers, then leans his head back, laughing loudly. “Ya- ya just said it! No preamble!”

Jack storms down the street, but Racer follows closely behind, laughing like it’s the funniest thing in the whole goddamn world. It wasn’t anything bad- Jack had been selling with the boys, and they all figured that going to Jacobi’s would be nice; it was a hot summer day, afterall, and the lot of them haven’t been by in a while. With a little help from some of the older boys, like Race, Al, and Finch, Jack had gotten the chance to buy enough food for the group of ten or so newsies to share.

Including Les and, by extension, Davey.

Of course Davey was there. Why wouldn’t he be? Ever since the strike, Davey had been pretty well integrated into the group. Sure, he was still a little awkward at times, but he was respected.

And since he was respected, he was constantly with the boys.

And that’s supposed to be a good thing.

But not for Jack, because nothing ever goes right for Jack.

All Jack had said was “Get’cha some food, angel,” and the whole fuckin’ table lost their minds.

“You’re fucked,” Race chuckles as he catches up and once again slings an arm over Jack’s shoulders. “But, lucky for you, your second in command just so happens to be an expert in the world of love.”

“You wouldn’t know ‘love’ if it slapped ya in your ugly mug,” Jack mutters underneath his breath.

“I know that ya shouldn’t’ve left Davey back there,” Race says in a dreamy voice. “Did’ja even see his face, Jackie? He was lookin’ at you like ya hung the stars for him, and ya just walked off. I wouldn’t’a done that.”

“Oh, yeah?” Jack asks, raising a brow in annoyance. “What would you do, Higgins?”

“I would’a kissed him in front of everyone,” Race says with a shrug. “Gotta show ‘em who’s boss.”

“I--” Jack stops himself with a frustrated groan. “Ain’t you ever shut up?” He shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. They must be quite the show; people pass them on the street. Couples walk hand in hand, kids play in the road with little wooden toys, and no one seems to be paying them any mind, but Jack looks seconds away from punching Racer in the face and Racer is laughing again.

Finally, Jack growls and stomps his foot. “It wouldn’t’a been a big deal if ya could’a kept your mouth shut!”

“Hey,” Race holds his hands up in surrender. “All’s I’m sayin’ is that ya better sweep in and get Dave, ‘fore anyone else gets any ideas. He’s obviously sweet on you,” He says as he crosses his arms. “That’s why I came to get’cha! Ya just stormed outta there-- Davey seemed pretty upset.”

“Upset that I called him… that,” Jack clenches his fists, letting out a deep sigh. “It don’t matter. He don’t like me like that.”

“You’re fuckin’ blinder than Specs,” Race deadpans, then grabs Jack’s shoulder and looks up at him. “Have ya seen the way Davey looks at you?”

Jack scoffs. “He looks at me the same way he looks at everyone else, I don’t--”

“Cisco.”

Jack cuts himself off, eyes widening just slightly as he meets Race’s eyes. He looks deadly serious now- it feels off, but Jack knows that Race only gets like this when he has to. He’s authoritative and serious as a heart attack when he puts in the effort to be.

Race stares straight into his eyes, tightening his grip on his shoulder. “Davey loves you,” He says as he furrows his brows. “Everyone can see it but you. He’s fallin’ hard, Jackie- has been for weeks, and you ain’t gonna do anything about it?”

Jack gulps, hard. “I… I don’t know what to do,” He admits, and rubs his face.

“What’d’ya mean, ya don’t know what to do?” Race rolls his eyes. “You’ve had a ton ‘a girlfriends in the past, just do--”

“No!” Jack shakes his head. “No, Davey’s- Davey’s different. He’s… He’s just different, okay? Mierda, every time I look at him, I just… I get so scared, Racer,” He sighs, rubbing his eyes. “Dave deserves so much, and I can’t give him any of it. I… I ain’t good enough for him, and he doesn’t… get it.”

Race watches him, a sad look on his face. “Davey’s willin’ to take anything you can give him,” He murmurs, then takes in a deep breath. “Look, I just--” Race shrugs, looking down. “It’s hard seein’ the two of you so upset. You think you ain’t good enough for him? He’s thinkin’ the same damn thing. He’s thinkin’ he ain’t good enough for you.”

“He’s too good for--”

“Who cares, Jack?” Race shakes his head. “Do ya love him?”

“Of course I do,” Jack says with no hesitation.

Race nods. “Then show him. One ‘a the fella’s from Queens likes him, and if you ain’t gonna get with him…” Race trails off, taking a few steps back, before turning and walking back in the direction of Jacobi’s. “Now, come back, and fuckin’ kiss him already. You two are gonna make me go gray, I swear to Christ.”

“¡Vete a la mierda!” Jack calls after him, standing still for a few moments, before groaning and following. “Racer-- Wait up!”

“Sbrigati, cazzo!” Race yells as he breaks into a sprint. “You got a boy to confess to, Kelly! Let’s get a move on!”

Maybe Race is right. Maybe Jack is a damn idiot.

But not for much longer.

#jack kelly #racetrack higgins #davey jacobs #david jacobs #javid #javey #newsies #newsies live #livesies #toursies #jac writes #kitkat tag

[thekarlkin]

{Welcome to my hobbit hole!}

Heyo!! I’m Absinthe or Wilbur! However, I’d strongly prefer to be addressed as whichever kinshift I’m in (usually Karl or Scott/Smajor)!

There is a likely chance that you found me on a kinfession blog or a kincall blog. My anon tag is 🌀🍬⏱ on most spaces! So, hi!! Nice to see you over here!

I am boyflux, and I use many pronouns! Star/Void/Comet/Blue/They/Xe work perfectly for me, and I have no preference for which you use! I am Aceflux, Polyam, and a very odd mix between Toric and some Aro-spec identity.

I am otherkin — mainly fictionkin, but I’m also some other alterhuman identities!! My main kintypes (also known as selfhoods or IDs) are c!Karl Jacobs, c!Rendog, c!Smajor, and c!Philza! More can be found here! ⏱

I would like to claim the fact that I am a minor. I am sixteen , and will be seventeen in June. I kindly ask that you don’t be creepy with me! Please.

Anyone is welcome to interact — with the exception of 18+/Smut blogs. Look, I don’t wanna look at some wild glizzies. I’m really cool with Kins/IRLs/systems interacting! Hell, even doubles are cool with me!

What am I gonna do on here? Probably talk about some kin stuff, talk about some memories that I can recall. Reblog some art and posts and stuff. Maybe lovepost here and there. Other times? I’m just gonna be a chaotic lil dumbass, joke around here and there lmao.

And that’s about it!! I’ll see y’all around. Later!!

{Tags Used On Here}

[STALL ME] [⏱] | POSTS

[OH GLORY] [⏱] REBLOGS

[HOUSE OF MEMORIES] [⏱] | KIN MEMORIES

[GOLDEN DAYS] [⏱] | KINFESSION/KIN CALL REBLOGS

[ LOVE SHOT ] | LOVEPOSTING (Me being stupid and love posting lol)

[ROLL THE DICE] [🎲] | QUACKITY (Posts that have to do with Quackity)

[BURNING UP] [🔥] | SAPNAP (Posts that’s have to do with Sapnap)

[ ROYALTY ] [👑]| ERET (Posts that have to do with Eret)

[STRAWBERRY BLONDE][🔭] | JIMMY (Post that have to do with c!Jimmy Solidarity)

[ COME WITH ME ] [🧝]| MARTYN (Posts that have to do with c!Martyn

[ I BET MY LIFE ] [🏜] | SCAR (Posts that have to do with c!GoodTimesWithScar)

[ PASSERINE] [🦅] | SBI (Posts that involve Tommy, Wilbur Techno, or SBI)

#fictionkin #karlkin #fictionkind #dreamsmp kin #dsmp kin #karl jacobs kin #philza kin #dreamsmpkin #scottkin #dream smp kin #3rdlifekin #3rd life smp #3rd life smp kin #lastlifekin #last life kin #rendogkin #smajorkin #[STALL ME] [⏱] | POSTS #🌀🍬⏱

[caffeinatedrogue]

@captainsaku​ since you so dearly asked I’ve made a bit of a Noam Adaar, lord of the dumbasses, masterpost because I am weeeak it’s long and has pictures so I’m putting a / read more

Noam Adaar 

Age during Inquisition: 30 Gender&Sexual Orientation: male, bi - mostly into men tho Class - mage (preferred- fire, sigils, battle magic  /specs as knight enchanter) Traits: charismatic, witty, open-minded, hedonistic, sassy, free-spirited, good-hearted, extravagant, dramatic. Weaknesses: elusive, feels veeeeeery intensely but hides his feelings behind the mask of the charmer, because he’s convinced everyone he cares about will leave him at some point. Tendency to self-destruction and addiction. Mood swings, impulsive. Will punch a dickhead if he has to. Star Sign - Acquarius sun, Leo Rising Likes - overly obsessed with his hair, likes fancy clothes and expensive goods, antivan leather, ancient history, everything about sailing and the sea, white wine, cocoa, sunny weather. Values loyalty (he will respect someone who stands by their word, even if it’s an opposite faction that clashes with his interests), cleverness and people who live according to their own moral code. Likes intensity, in people and situations. Dislikes - Southern weather, orlesian cuisine, a lack of sense of humor, unopinionated people, moderation / lukewarm stances on problems.  Is used to low-key casual racism but hates being overtly fetishized or dehumanized, like getting called ‘exotic’. Keepsakes: wears his first coin earned as a mercenary, one of Vic’s rings and a golden bauble on a string around his neck. Wears a white sort of Vitaar although mostly for aesthetic reasons, when he feels like it

Main Party in game - Dorian/Iron Bull/Sera -- alternative either Cass or Varric

Early life - Parents - Sylas /formerly Beresaad; Lumen / formerly Tallis (not that one of course, just a qunari assassin) - Tallis/lumen is tasked with a mission in the south alongside Sylas/Beresaad - but they fall in love full southerner way, with the addition that Sylas has been pulling an Iron Bull and eventually decides to leave the Qun, while Lumen’s feelings for him make her question but ultimately decide to remain loyal. However she’s preggo and thus our boy Noam is born under the Qun. After being assigned to Seheron and burning out, she is reassigned as a Tamassran and among the kids she’s overseeing, she recognizes him straight away and they share a special bond. At just 4 Noam shows signs of magic and she knows that there’s no way she’ll let him end up a Saarebas. She smuggles him out back to Sylas (congrats on being a single dad, Syl), now a mercenary, before turning herself into re-education as a last attempt to staying loyal. After years she realized that her faith is compromised beyond repair and finally escapes to the south, looking for them. Bonus pic of squishy cheeks baby qunari

Little Adaar grows up among mercenaries, living an adventurous, albeit tough, life. Sylas does a stellar job as a father figure, but never reveals to Noam that he is his actual father, thinking it will make it easier on him when they eventually have to part (narrator: it did not). As Noam’s magic keeps developing, Sylas knows he’s not equipped for it and has to leave him with a group of hedge mages in the Marches that accept to train him. He eventually goes off on his own as a mercenary, joining groups or ...freelancing. After a disastrous time in post-blight Ferelden, he decides to move his ass up to Antiva, looking for a sweeter life- and better weather. (bonus glow up pic)

The antivan days: And off to Antiva Noam goes, where he falls in love with the place - his favourite place in Thedas and where he hopes to return someday - and with Ludovico ‘Vic’ of the Malaspina, crimelord and leader of a special ‘family’ that runs shady business for the Crows in the Market district. Think Peaky Blinders, make it Antivan, and you get the picture. Noam walks his drunk ass into one of their operations, risks getting killed, ends up working for them and finding his ragtag niche in the chaotic antivan society. I was writing a fic about all this that I’ll never finish because a. I’m not a native speaker b. I can’t write for shit, but maybe someday. 

Anyway, much pining, much love, much wine, much crime. Noam is living his best life, until something happens that I won’t tell because of the aforementioned fic that I’ll never finish and Vic vanishes into thin air, leaving him severely heartbroken and depressed, and leading him to return to the Marches where he eventually finds a good time and good coin with the Valo-Kas. Until the Conclave blows up, of course.

Inquisitor Adaar, or ‘what the hell am I doing here? I don’t belong here - oh wait there’s wine over there, I’ll be fine’

Noam resents the title of Herald of Andraste until he realizes how fun it is to make everyone in the Chantry clutch their pearls, though he’s clear with his inner circle that he doesn’t believe he is, or in the Maker and all that jazz. However he finds out he has a knack for politics, and after a life spent dodging responsibilities and generally feeling like a stray dog, he loves having agency over himself and the world around him and works hard for it. And for the perks, like the fancy dresses, and the comfy humongous bed. Sides with the Mages and allies with them, manages to outsmart the orlesian smartasses, prefers Leliana-style subterfuge to displays of power to solidify the Inquisition’s power.

He’s very much a people person that can easily find something to relate to,and a charming man at that, so he get along well with most of the companions. While he likes the company of the more down-to-earth/outcast types and getting shitfaced at the tavern, he will not miss a wine night of reminiscing of Antiva and gossiping with Josephine.

As for Vic, he was supposed to be a backstory character but I just fell in love with his grumpy Scorpio ass so he makes a comeback after being Through A Lot ™ , and Noam is so Not Over It ™ - hence there’s more pining and fluff until they ride off into the sunset (well no, because Noam doesn’t disband the inquisition, but they’re pretty much joined at the hip). Will Noam punch Solas? So many questions!

(AREN’T THEY CUTE THO)

#adaar tag #this is LONG #ocs #dragon age #inquisitor adaar

[bonnieparkerofficial]

i’m back on my newsies bullshit again (i have literally no idea why. it just snuck up on me out of nowhere) so i’m gonna request newsies for the blorbo ask thingy

Oh gosh, okay, here we go

Blorbo: Racetrack Higgins (bc we are both chaotic dumbass twinks)

Scrunkly: Albert

Scrimblo Bimblo: Romeo

Glup Shitto: Finch, Specs

Poor Little Meow Meow: Katherine (only bc so many people hate

Horse Plinko: Davey, Spot (when I saw torment, I took it as like a teasing torment bc I would never really torment someone)

Eeby Deeby: Pulitzer, Snyder

#ask games #emma answers #newsies #I'm also really tired #so this is the best I could do lol

[dolokhoded]

okayokayokayokay.... spot and katherine friendship hcs??

OH YES. YEA LET'S DO IT. i had just gotten myself to write canon era but now im swITCHING back to modern au because im quirky <3

SPOT AND KATH

plz i am screaming and crying

a POWER TEAM

they bonded over

let's say it all together

✨bullying jack kelly on the daily✨

pffft no but frfr

you know what they actually bond over

true crime

they're both nerds like that

spot and kath are the *orders a black coffee* on the mcdonalds chart

they're both in the newspaper team in high school

in most modern aus all the newsies are in the newspaper team but like let's real y'all trust race to write an article?

y'all trust j a c k to write an article??

no the rest just run around trying to sell them because they're chaotic and friends with kath and spot

male bi and female bi solidarity

they both listen to girl in red and they vibe

like actually listen to girl in red not as in they're lesbians

this just reminded me how much i love female spot. anYWAYS, later.

spot wasn't friends with the newsies at first bc he was in another school but he knew jack and one day he got in a fight with albert and jack showed up like

"al wtf what are you- spot?"

so then after throwing a few punches they became friends

and kath was, at the time, the only functional person in this friend group

specs doesn't count just because of race, al and romeo dragging him into dumb shit

so when she saw spot she was like

do u want to form,,,,,,, an alliance. with me.

so they're just constantly surrounded by dumbasses

then kath meets sarah and turns into gay panic and spot's literally in tears

"KATH PLEASE NOT YOU TOO"

he can't deal with it. just yesterday he listened to race talk about a bicep for 35 minutes.

spot conlon got banned from a wendy's because some asshole started saying disgusting things about katherine to him for literally no reason and he

a) got a little pissed no big deal

b) basically he broke the guy's nose

if you answered b you are correct

he was with elmer there and poor elmer was just like "spot no. spot no. spot do not."

spot did anyways

katherine doesn't know and doesn't need to know why he's not allowed there anymore.

not because of what the guy said, she's heard it herself multiple times, she just always tells him to stop punching people as an instant solution to anything

istg the only thing that seperates spot and albert is that spot has brain cells, but stopping albert from punching people in the face is sarah's job so it doesn't concern her much

every sometimes semi-functional wlw deserves a football player best friend with no impulse control

because of course spot plays football have u seen his arms

u don't just HAVE arms like these

anyways this friendship is an iconic masterpiece, the jack kelly bashing that comes out of it is immaculate and no one will ever match their power

#thanks for coming to my ted talk #katherine plumber #katherine pulitzer #spot conlon #newsies #newsies hcs #newsies broadway #newsies musical #newsies film #newsies live

[idontdoglitter]

Newstober

Day Two: Favorite newsies 

This one is a little easier than the last ‘cause I can pick multiple newsies! I’m going to go with Crutchie, Race (obviously), Albert, Elmer, Smalls, Sniper, Spot and Specs.

Crutchie is my sunshine child but also, I am a firm believer in #LetCrutchieSayFuck.

Race and Albert are my brotp and favorite chaotic dumbasses. They have zero common sense and would egg each other on in their idiotic exploits and I love it.

Elmer joins Crutchie in the Sunshine child category. He is so precious! He’s just always smiling. Also, in Brooklyn’s here, he is amazing.

Smalls and Sniper are undoubtedly girls in my mind and no, I don’t take criticism. They are one of my otp’s and they absolutely can and will kick your ass if they have to.

My favorite definition of Spot that I’ve seen is “a small speckled goblin”. He is smol and angry and I love him so much. He is a bit grumpy and mean and good at fighting so people are scared of him but he’s really soft. Also, Sprace is probably my favorite Newsies ship so...

Finally, Specs. Honestly, he is the only responsible newsie. Like, come on. Are we really going to call Jack responsible? Also, I love how he breaks into the refuge to deliver Crutchie’s letter to Jack.  I just love them all so much 💖💖💖💖

#newstober #swearing tw #mini rant #i love the Newsies

[little-piece-of-ass-istant]

Queens at Pride?

Aragon showing up with Maria in super casual clothes. Tee shirts and jeans or shorts. No big deal at all.

However, Catherine is most definitely throwing bibles (where she highlited every line about love) at the dumb protesters, telling them to FUCKING READ IT

•

Anne is wearing a bi flag like a cape, with black overalls and a tee shirt that reads “ain’t no lie baby I’m bi bi bi”

Heelying around blasting Lady Gaga and P!ATD and other, general gay anthems off a speaker in her sparkley bum bag.

Holding a sign that says “the queens said gay rights!”

•

Jane is in normal everyday clothes. Mum jeans, a white blouse, and a light sweater. But with a rainbow pin that says Ally

holding a sign that says I love my gay daughter.

Holding Kitty’s hand (when kitty is not riding on Anna’s back)

•

Cleves wearing a lesbian pride tee shirt with trans flags as eyeblack. Leather jacket on, and flannel around her waist. With black shorts and combat boots

Living her best, gayest life. Probably carrying kitty around half the time and always ready to punch debate exclutionists.

•

Kitty is wearing rainbow EVERYTHING.

Rainbow skirt, black ringer tee with rainbow sleeve/collar caps, rainbow hair bow, black thigh highs, rainbow high tops.

Probably piggyback on Cleves. Definitely singing at the top of her lungs along to Anne’s music.

•

Parr is wearing cute pan shirt, something simple like a white ringer tee with a pan flag heart on it, and her jeans cuffed at the bottom with converse high tops. Anne makes her wear her Demi flag as a cape to match her.

She is basically just holding Anne’s hand trying to keep up with her chaotic dumbass. But having the time of her life and talking queer fiction with anyone who will listen.

———————————————————————

Reminder that I personally ship Parr/Boleyn

I headcanon Parr to be A-spec (demisexual specifically)

And I headcanon Cleves to be a Trans Woman

•

So Terfs and exclusionists if you even LOOK at this post I swear I WILL sacrifice your kneecaps to Anne Boleyn.

•

This was also inspired in part by @that-gremlin-boleyn so thank you for bringing up pride cause it forced me to finish these headcanons I was never gonna write down

•

Reblogs are always appreciated!!

#six #six the musical #catherine of aragon #caragon #aragon #anne boleyn #boleyn #jane seymour #seymour #anne of cleves #anna of cleves #cleves #katherine howard #k howard #howard #catherine parr #cathy parr #parr #broadway #west end #musical theatre #musical #pride #gay pride #mine #parrlyn

[anosmic-sheep]

tell us about your wardens lad

SAM YOU'RE MY FAVORITE PERSON AND I LOVE YOU

Brief Summaries of the Wardens, as of DAO:

Jairden Surana (my most fleshed out character):

Age 20 (born 9:10), cis male (he/him), disaster bisexual. He's 5' tall. Five foot 0. According to Google that's 152 cm. He's a small boy. I'm not good at physical descriptions so I'll just add a drawing or screenshot of him later.

Spirit Healer

Morrigan Romance (Opposites attract, what can I say?)

Too precious for this world. Way too kind and forgiving for Thedas to deserve him. Literally saw a Qunari 2 heads taller than him who was charged with murdering a bunch of people and was like "We're gonna be friends now. Because I said."

A huge pushover until you mess with someone he cares about, and he is very much capable of murder (though you wouldn't think so upon first meeting him).

Overly polite.

Biggest botany nerd ever.

Just a small dork.

"No, Jowan, we can't sacrifice the arless-"

His mom is actually from clan Lavellan! I have an alternate worldstate where he's the Inquisitor.

Will (Irrelevant OC mentioned earlier) is his younger half-brother!

Khoren Brosca:

Age 20, probably (she doesn't know and neither do I), cis female (she/her), a bit on the tall side for a dwarf. Vaguely functional pansexual.

Warrior (no spec yet, probably berserker or something tho)

Completely fucking feral.

Dual wields axes because fuck you.

Seems standoffish and uncaring, cares A Lot™

Trust Issues, daddy issues, just... Issues ™.

Alistair romance (has flirted with Leliana, only because I have no self control)

Very protective over the people closest to her.

Like Jared, 19, she never fucking learned how to read.

She's great and I love her.

"Son of a sodding nugshit."

Eran Tabris:

MY CHILD-

Age: 21 (born 9:09), nonbinary (they/them), asexual. Kinda bulky in build for an elf, average height.

Born Erana Tabris, and yeeted the "a" at the end off upon being conscripted into the Wardens.

Also feral, but is capable of being chill. Unlike Khoren.

"I WON'T HESITATE, BITCH."

Dual wield rogue

Will literally butcher a man if their patience is tested (example: the noble guy from their Origin)

Chaotic Bastard

No romance

Jairden is their cousin (Will isn't though, by blood at least)

Valori Amell:

Age 21 (born 9:09), cis female (she/her), average height. Sexuality? Who knows, definitely not straight though.

Pyromaniac with a bit of Entropy (may be a blood mage, have yet to decide)

If she were a Hawke she'd be purple.

"I'm just gonna stand back, and let the chaos unfold. Is it my business? No. Is my nose in it? Definitely."

Cullen's crush was a mutual thing, let's put it that way.

No decided romance. (Unless you count flirting with Cullen)

Ran STRAIGHT to Irving when Jowan told her shit.

Chaotic neutral.

Here come the Cousland Twins!

Wyle Cousland:

Age: 22 (born 9:08), cis male (he/him), gay as fuck. Kinda lanky.

Dual wield rogue part 2

Big dumbass energy

Third born child, baby of the family, dramatic as all hell.

"I am GOING to flirt with the pretty assassin, and NO, Wade, you can't stop me!"

"The closet?? Who is she, never heard of her!"

Full of jokes and pranks.

Favorite game is "how many times can I steal Alistair's coinpurse and put it back before he notices anything's happened."

A part of the joking is him deflecting how hard his parents' death is hitting him (gotta love that sweet sweet angst).

He and Wade make fun of each other constantly. Come on, they're siblings, what did you expect?

Very high-energy and extroverted, social and talkative.

Wade Cousland:

Age: 22 (born 9:08), cis male (he/him), straight. Bulky compared to Wyle.

Has not slept since 9:07 Dragon (aka the womb).

Sword and shield warrior.

Was initially going to be my obligatory asshole character, but I didn't have the heart to be mean to anyone.

Seems kinda cold and anti-social, but is a kind and considerate guy.

Very introverted, not a fan of small talk. Would rather go hit a training dummy, personally.

"Wyle, no."

Is basically Wyle's impulse control, and the certified Responsible Sibling.

People have judged his brother in the past. Each of them were at least punched by Wade at some point. 0 exceptions.

Has a crush on Leliana, is very much teased by Wyle about it.

Dry humor.

Has thrown Wyle into a lake when said twin brother would not leave him alone.

Spends the first part of the game mostly keeping to himself, quietly grieving his parents, as well as those lost at Ostagar (used much healthier coping mechanisms than Wyle)

Okay! I think that's pretty much everyone?? I love them all. I probably missed some things. Feel free to ask pretty much anything about any of them! Thank you Sam for asking about my children- I mean my OCs!

#dragon age #da ocs #oc asks #asks #sam #long post

[trashyeggroll]

Important OTP ask Xena/Gabrielle and Varia/Eve 2, 8, 9, 12, 14, 22, 29, 30.

Hey thanks anon!!

2) Who is always horny and will have sex at any time, at any place and at any time?

That would be Xena “tossed Borias’ kid out of the tent and kept having sex” Warrior Princess

8) Who likes to wear the others sweatshirts?

I find a particular intimacy in Xena wearing Amazon outfits, like in Kindred Spirits, if anything because she doesn’t show the Amazons much respect otherwise. I dunno, I just like the idea that Xena gives up some of her “I Don’t Need No Stinkin’ Tribe” attitude to support Gabs.

9) Who wakes the other up in the middle of the night to tell them a cool dream they had? Who has the most nightmares, and who sings them back to sleep after?

Renee famously can’t sing and Lucy has been on Broadway so I think Xena would hum Gabrielle back to sleep, and I would imagine Gabs having nightmares bc she still hasn’t seen as much violence and death as Xena 😫 Gabrielle seems like she would def wake up Xena about a cool dream.

12) Who starts a food fight in the kitchen?

Xena! It’s always Xena starting shit like this. Reminds me of the iconic bath scene, splashing each other.

14) Who starts the hand holding? Who grabs the others butt? Who slides their arm around their waist? Who likes to put their fingers in the belt loops

It doesn’t seem like it from the outside, but I think it’s Xena who initiates affection a lot, I mean look at this

22) Who is super bad at sexting? and who sends them encouraging messages throughout the day?

There’s a popular fanon belief that it’s possible Xena doesn’t know how to read soooooo

29) Who does some crazy stunt to try and impress the other and who ends up driving them to the emergency room after it backfires?

Gabrielle is the injured one. Xena does wild stunts all the time, young Gabs was always trying to impress her 😭

30) Who is embarrassed when they have to wear their glasses and who thinks they look super cute

I imagine Gabrielle having to get specs to keep working on her scrolls and Xena LOVES them

Okay couple two!!

2) Who is always horny and will have sex at any time, at any place and at any time?

Varia. See gif above. She is thirsty.

8) Who likes to wear the others sweatshirts?

I like the idea of Eve wearing something of Varia’s, suble tho, like maybe an armband.

9) Who wakes the other up in the middle of the night to tell them a cool dream they had? Who has the most nightmares, and who sings them back to sleep after?

Varia wakes up with the cool dreams AND the nightmares, with Eve there to soothe her back to sleep 😌

12) Who starts a food fight in the kitchen?

Eve, trying to get Varia to not be so dang serious

14) Who starts the hand holding? Who grabs the others butt? Who slides their arm around their waist? Who likes to put their fingers in the belt loops?

Eve here too—I think even more than Varia, she has lacked kind touch in her life and seeks it often from the person she loves most 😫

22) Who is super bad at sexting? and who sends them encouraging messages throughout the day?

I like the idea of Varia finding like a little note from Eve randomly throughout her day and having to fight off blushing from the message, whether a scroll sext or just a nice affirmation

29) Who does some crazy stunt to try and impress the other and who ends up driving them to the emergency room after it backfires?

My favorite chaotic good dumbass is constantly injuring herself in the name of impressing her wife

30) Who is embarrassed when they have to wear their glasses and who thinks they look super cute?

Eve needs the glasses and Varia loves it. Eve needs glasses bc of her immaculate conception mom eheheh

#asks #ask meme #long post

[turtle-steverogers]

Chaotic Neutral

ok so i was gonna write literal angst but then saph and i got on a tangent and this was born so take this Fruity Pebbles+Walgreens crack hybrid

warnings: stab wounds

ship: ralbert

editing: no

“Can you drive me to Walgreens?” Albert asked as he walked out of his room, looking slightly disheveled as he walked out of his and Race’s shared bedroom.  

Race glanced up from his place at the kitchen counter, chewing absentmindedly on the eraser of his pencil, “Why?”

Albert shrugged, padding over in his fuzzy socks to lean across the counter, blocking Race from his physics homework, “We’re outta fruity pebbles.”

Race rolled his eyes, “Planning to get high soon?”

Albert shook his head, “No, but I’m thinking of it right now, so I wanna get ‘em while they’re on my mind, ‘cause I’ll forget otherwise,” He paused for a moment, lost in memory, “And you remember what happened the last time I didn’t have fruity pebbles when the munchies hit.”

A dark look washed over Race’s face, “Oh, I remember alright,” he rubbed his elbow subconsciously, “I still have the scar.”

Albert clicked his tongue, “Yeah, sorry ‘bout that.  Anyway, can ya bring me?”

“Sorry, babe,” Race said, shoving Albert off his textbook, “I gotta finish this, but feel free to take my keys if you wanna just take yourself.”

Albert pouted for a moment, “Fine, but it’s no fun without you.”

Race didn’t grace him with pity as he focused back in on his assignment, “Suffer.”

Albert huffed again, “Ugh, okay, I’ll be back.”

“Pick me up some lactaid,” Race called as Albert shoved his socked feet into a pair of Race’s slides.

“Yep,” Albert shouted over his shoulder as he left the apartment, making his way down to Race’s car.  

What should have been a ten minute ride turned into twenty five minutes due to traffic, but eventually Albert arrived at the Walgreens off campus.  He trudged inside, hyper aware of the fact that he looked like some sort of college student-hobo hybrid with his bright red fuzzy socks and slightly-too-small sweatshirt.  

He scanned the cereal aisles, letting out a quiet, ‘aha’, as he located the fruity pebbles, taking several off of the shelf to stock up.  Frantic whispers from the aisle beside him piqued his curiosity and he shifted closer in order to listen.  He couldn’t make out what the voices were saying, but in his peripheral, he could see two rather burly men huddled against the wall, shoving armfuls of varying items into one of their backpacks.  Blanching as he realized what was happening, Albert considered his options.  He could casually slip out of the aisle and pretend he never saw anything, or-

“Hey,” He heard himself bark, instantly regretting his decision as the two men’s heads whipped up, fury and confusion glinting in their eyes, “What do you think you’re doing?” Albert bit his tongue, willing himself to shut up as the guys processed his words.

Albert took an involuntary step back as one of the two men crossed over to him, “You didn’t see nothin’, princess,” He snarled, the smell of cigarettes hot on his breath, “Move it along and no one gets hurt.”

Albert couldn’t help the scoff that escaped his throat, “Wow, real threatening,” he drawled, “I feel so threatened right now.  C’mon, shoplifting a Walgreens?  Seriously?  I mean-”

He cut himself off with a gasp as he felt a sharp, almost nauseating pain grip his gut.  He looked down, open-mouthed in shock as he watched the knife the guy had stabbed into him leave his body.  

A wave of dizziness washed over him as his knees buckled and he managed weakly, “There are security cameras, you know.”

The men exchanged alarmed glances, before stumbling around each other to grab the backpack.

“Yeah, bet you didn’t think of that,” Albert managed around the ever growing pain in his abdomen, “Dummies.” he added for good measure.

The men ran out of the aisle, only to be stopped by one of the employees, who must have heard the commotion.  Or seen Albert get stabbed on the security footage.  Albert didn’t have the energy to question which.  He rested his head on the shelf behind him, closing his eyes briefly, before standing up.

“Sir, I don’t think-” He hadn’t even noticed the other store clerk, hovering worriedly near him.  

He waved a hand, cutting her off, “S’fine,” he mumbled, “I’ll be chill.”

“An ambulance is on its way-”

“Where’s your first aid aisle?” Albert asked, pitching to the side slightly.

The clerk raised her eyebrows, “Excuse me?”

“You’re first aid stuff, like, band-aids and shit.”

“Sir, I-”

“Ma’am, please,” Albert groaned, “This ain’t my first rodeo, I’m fine, just tell me where the goddamn bandages are.”

The clerk looked taken aback, but she pointed to an aisle diagonal from the one they were in nonetheless, “Uh, that one.”

“Thanks,” Albert mumbled, turning and staggering towards the first aid materials.  He blearily squinted at the shelves, haphazardly plucking a few bandage packs, as well as some gauze pads from the wall.  He grabbed a bottle of antiseptic from one of the higher shelves, then sat himself down on the carpeted floor and lifted his shirt, working with shaky hands to inspect the stab wound.  It was fairly deep considering and blood was flowing out weakly with each beat of his heart.  If he were in a better state, he probably would have been freaked out by the image.  Instead, he clumsily tore off a chunk of his already ripped t-shirt and soaked it in some of the antiseptic.

He gingerly pressed the cloth to the wound, hissing in pain as the alcohol sent a stinging jolt through his body, making his head light.  

Diligently, he cleaned away the blood, then dressed the wound using gauze and bandages, wrapping tightly to ensure the blood would clot.  After taking a few steadying breaths, he stood up and pulled a crumpled twenty dollar bill out of his pocket, crossing back over to the store clerk who had been watching him in awed horror.  

He handed her the twenty, then stooped down to pick up one of the fallen boxes of fruity pebbles, “Hope that covers everything I used,” he slurred, “Take care.”

He could hear various sirens outside and decided to slip out the side door to avoid any paramedics who might see him in his bloodied state.  He hailed a cab, ignoring the frightened stare of the driver as he rattled off his and Race’s address.  He zoned out during the ride, only realizing they had arrived when the driver called back to him, demanding his payment.  Albert tipped a little extra after discovering the blood stain he’d left on the seat, then made his way up to the apartment.  

Realizing belatedly that he’d left his apartment key in Race’s car, which was still in the Walgreens parking lot, he knocked weakly on the door.

Race appeared a moment later, eyes widening as he looked over his boyfriend, “Albert, what the fuck.”

“I got m’fruity pebbles,” Albert said, smiling.  

Race shook his head, dumbfounded, “What the hell happened to you- fuck.” He grunted as Albert jerked forward, collapsing unceremoniously into Race’s arms.  Race grimaced, hoisting Albert’s arm around his shoulder and leading him to the couch, carefully laying him down the length of the cushions.

Albert leaned to the side, the pain finally catching up to him as he gagged, vomit forcing its way up his throat.  Race stepped back as Albert threw up onto the ground, blood intermixing with his sick.

“Albert, Jesus,” Race murmured, worry creasing his eyebrows.

“S’fine,” Albert croaked, gesturing to the bandage around his stomach, “I handled it.”

“Clearly not,” Race said, voice cracking as he frantically waved his hand towards the bloody vomit, “What happened?  Actually, nevermind, I don’t wanna know until we get you fixed up.”

“I am fixed up.”

“Properly fixed up, you dumbass ginger fool.”

“Race, Racer,” Albert reached out a hand, latching onto Race’s pant leg.

Race bent down, carding a hand through his boyfriend’s hair, “Yes, love?”

“Are there munchies in heaven, do you think?”

Race blinked, “My god, you’re an idiot.  Hospital time, let’s go.”

XXX

“So, let me get this straight,” Race leaned back in the crappy plastic chair he was sitting in, studying Albert as he lay in a hospital bed, finally stable, “You saw some guys shoplifting, so you called them out, then challenged them, then got stabbed, then sassed some poor store clerk, then fucking yeeted over to the first aid aisle, tried to treat yourself, then dipped before an ambulance could get to you?”

Albert bit his lip, “Uh, yeah, basically.”

“Jesus Christ, Albert, you coulda gotten yourself legitimately killed.  I mean, good on you for stopping a robbery, but next time an ambulance is called for you, fucking take up that offer, okay?”

Albert groaned, slumping down into his pillows, “But I was fine, Racer!”

“No, you weren’t!  You needed a blood transfusion, Albert!”  Race closed his eyes, emotion rising in his throat, “Listen, it was really fucking scary seeing you bleeding out on our couch and I really don’t know what I’d do if you were to like, literally die or something, so for the love of god, use your singular fucking brain cell and take care of yourself next time, okay?”

Albert softened, guilt spreading through his body, “Okay, I’m sorry.”

Race stood, walking over to Albert and leaning down to hug him, “It’s okay, I just worry.”

“I know you do,”  Albert said, burying his nose in his boyfriend’s hair, “I appreciate your care.”

“I love you, bitchass, you know that?”

“I do,” Albert smiled, “I love you, too,” a pause, “Race, you didn’t happen to bring-”

“Planned ahead,” Race said, pulling the box of fruity pebbles from under his chair.

“I fucking stan you so hard what the fuck.”

“I...stan you, too?”

“You better,” Albert said through a mouth of cereal, “I’m wonderful.”

“Uh huh, sure.”

-

jfc someone literally tell me how al is still alive at this point

thanks for reading, chiefs

hmu to be added to my tag

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#newsies fic #newsies #ralbert #racetrack higgins #albert dasilva #chaotic boys #fruity pebbles #yeet #im rlly tired so if this is bad im sorry

[alice-blue-skies]

ranking the newsies + Kathrine, Bill, and Darcy. I might miss a few, sorry. 

1. Specs- he’s adorable

2. Elmer- He’s an adorable baby and I love him more than I should

3. Crutchie- His is sunshine incarnate

4. Race- Chronic dumbass and I relate. but also I’m in love with Ben Cook soooo

5. Bill- I don’t know. He’s just cool

6. Darcy- He seems like a nice guy. not a Nice Guy™ but like a genuine nice guy

7. Mush- Mush Meyers is a teddy bear with a six pack and its amazing.

8. Spot- It’s raining outside my house today and so Spot is number eight.

9. Albert- He is less of a chronic dumbass so no.

10. Romeo- a flirty child. also chaotic but doesn’t mean to ???

11. Buttons- Innocent wholesome baby

12. JoJo- I want a church boy to go to church and ReAd eR Bibleeeeeeee

13. Davey- I want a jewish boy to got to,,, temple (?) and ReAd hte Torahhhhh

14. Finch- waiting makes him antsy

15. Henry- Background newsie # 38

16. Tommy Boy- He looks like my cousin and thats kind weird. I think its just the weird facial expressions and the eyebrows

17. Splasher- Background newsie # 40

18. Kathrine- I actually forgot I was putting her in the list until now

19. Ike/Mike- I don’t know which is which so I can’t say one is better than the other

20. Jack- I wanna be a cowboi babey

[awkwardlittlepringle]

Queer ‘n Crazy

CHAPTER 20

Hello, fellow Fanders!

Okay, so this chapter was supposed to be centered around Thomas's wake, but the thing is I've never been to a awake, so I decided to change it to them getting ready for it, sorry about that.

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

WARNINGS : Mentions of death, a funeral, gayness, swearing, I think that’s it?

...........

Virgil was kind of confused, for a myriad of reasons. 

First of all, despite the fact that they were attending the... wake? Memorial? The school day went on as planned. They had their normal classes, but an hour and a half before dinner, the whole school filtered back into their dorms, and picked out their least casual clothes for the wake. 

It was easy enough for Logan - the dude wore ties every day for crying out loud - but Virgil was stumped. Janice and Mike hadn't insisted on him changing how he dressed, something every other foster family had done, but this meant that the closest thing Virgil had to formal wear was a pair of not-ripped jeans, and a patternless black T-shirt. 

Virgil was sure that he wouldn't feel nearly as bad about it if Logan hadn't dressed so nicely. He had thought (for some reason) that bringing dress pants to a boarding school was a normal thing to do. So across the room from Virgil he sat; trying his hardest to keep his eternally-pretty hair from falling in his eternally-pretty eyes.

Virgil turned back to his own mirror in distaste. Feeling loose jeans felt odd on him. He hadn't worn this particular pair in over six months, meaning they smelt slightly dusty as well. 

"Virgil, please tell me you're not going to wear that shirt." 

Virgil glanced at Logan's reflection in his mirror. The other male was looking at him disapprovingly, scanning him in a way that made Virgil incredibly self-conscious. He ducked his head away with flushed cheeks, searching for something that definitely wasn't there just as a distraction. 

"Shut it, Specs. Not everyone brings ties to school." he muttered, flustered. Logan hummed, standing up and walking to his closet. 

"I know that, but your wardrobe can't only be band shirts, right?" "..."

"Oh my god-" "Shut up!" he groaned. "I have a couple of other things, it's just all of them have a pattern."

"Didn't you bring at least one shirt?" "Uh... no." he said, leaning against his dresser and staring at Logan. "Why the fuck would I bring a button up? They're annoying."  "They are not." "Says you! You wear dress pants, Logan. Dress pants." Logan rolled his eyes, before starting to mess with his clothes.

"I'm not referring to your jeans anyway." said Logan evenly as he sifted through neatly hung clothing. "While most people will wear jeans, most will also wear shirts. Would you like to borrow one of mine?"

Virgil's heart rate definitely didn't speed up at that, what are you talking about?

"Uh, that is if you're comfortable with that." added Logan in a quieter voice. "You don't have to obviously, but it's probably better than wearing a scruffy black T-shirt." he said with a tad more assurance. "They did say the dress code was semi-formal." Virgil couldn't deny the fact he was right.

"I mean, if you're okay with it I guess..." mumbled Virgil, his voice barely audible over his heart beating a tattoo in his chest. Logan's lips quirked upward, and he returned to his search with renewed vigor.

Virgil walked closer to Logan, the familiar smell of lavender wafting through the air between them. Lavender. Lavender smelt like Logan. Logan uses lavender detergent.

Oh fuck, I'm going to die.

"Try this one."

He held out a black dress shirt, which seemed to be in far better condition than any of Virgil's clothing. Virgil walked over and took it from him uncertainty, his heart now beating in his ears. Their hands brushed casually, but for some reason it seemed to awake a swarm of moths in Virgil's stomach. 

The fabric was slightly coarse and increasingly supple underneath Virgil's touch, and seemed reasonably soft, despite the fact it was fitted. With a lump in his throat, Virgil walked into the bathroom, desperately trying to breathe through his mouth.

He watched himself in the mirror as he gingerly slipped his hands into the sleeves, being careful not to tear the fabric. It rippled before settling, the cool fabric sitting neatly on his skin. Virgil brought his hands to the buttons, fumbling slightly as he tried to slip them in. It certainly would have been easier if he had long fingernails, but as it was, his nail beds were nearly chewed raw. 

He ended up having to restart halfway because he'd put the wrong button in the wrong hole, but he got there eventually. He glanced back at his reflection nervously. 

The shirt had clearly been fitted to Logan's figure, shown by the excess fabric around his shoulders, but overall, it wasn't too bad. It actually fit pretty well, considering Virgil's chub. 

Virgil gave himself a once over; moving his arms around a bit, before turning to the door with red cheeks. He placed his hand on the cold doorknob before taking a deep breath.

He'd been trying his hardest not to pay too much attention to the smell of the shirt, but left to his own devices it was nearly unbearable. Dust and lavender sheets and Logan's cologne. Memories of waking up next to the other male filled Logan's mind, causing the blood in his cheeks to flow even faster. 

It honestly wasn't fair. No one's clothes should smell like them. It should be illegal. There was no way Virgil would be able to concentrate if his mind was filled with images of Logan's hair, and Logan's eyes, and Logan, Logan, Logan. But now Virgil was stuck wearing his crush's shirt to a wake, where he was supposed to be mourning his classmate. A classmate he really liked, too.

He was screwed. 

Virgil opened the bathroom door and tentatively scanned the room for Logan, spotting him sitting at his desk and staring at the door. 

He let out a satisfied smile at the sight of Virgil, before hurrying over to check the fit of the shirt. He hummed happily while doing this, before stepping back to give Virgil another look. The emo curled in on himself at the attention, his eyes flitting around the room. Anywhere but Logan. 

"You look amazing." Virgil met the other's eyes with a blush that could rival a strawberry. The sheer sincerity in the Logan's eyes was way too much for him to handle.

"Do you feel okay in it?" he asked, adjusting the fabric around his shoulders. Virgil shrugged. Logan frowned. "If you don't like it you can always change it." he said with a furrowed brow. "N-No, I'm good." Virgil cringed at his stutter. "I-I mean, it just feels a little weird only wearing one layer is all." he confessed.  "I would give you a suit jacket, but I'm pretty sure that's too formal." said Logan with a scrunched nose. Virgil snorted, causing the other boy to smile a bit. 

"What?"

"You brought a suit jacket?" Logan's face glowed red, and he stepped backward slightly as he started to protest. "I-I-"

Virgil burst into laughter at the sheer amount of embarrassment on Logan's face. A hand coming up to cover his mouth. 

"Why do you do that?" "What?" asked Virgil amidst his giggling.  "How come you cover your smile?" he repeated, his blush fading slightly. "It's so pretty."

Virgil could have sworn that he choked on his own spit. A warmth exploded in his torso, causing a tingling feeling to run down his limbs to the tips of his fingers. At the same time he felt like his core was closing in on itself, like a star about to collapse under it's own gravity. A strange buzzing filled his now glowing ears.

Logan had just called him pretty. Logan, tall, adorably awkward, gorgeous Logan thought he was pretty. Or at least, he thought his smile was pretty. 

Virgil had no idea how to deal with this. 

Logan stared at Virgil's reaction to the compliment, his cheeks dusted a delicate pink. Then he swallowed, before stepping back as if he'd just realised what he'd done. He slapped a hand over his mouth, before whirling around and walking back to his desk. Virgil turned back to his mirror. 

The two of them stood on opposite sides of the room, neither looking at the other, in silence. 

"I know I'm supposed to be embarrassed right now, but that doesn't change the fact that what I just said is right, okay?" 

Logan's voice was quiet, but it made the buzzing in Virgil's ears all the more louder. The black-clad boy stood silent, staring at his hands, which were resting on his dresser. Virgil swallowed, every single nerve in his body tingling. 

"Thanks." 

The silence fell over them like a heavy blanket, covering every crevice of the room. Virgil drew in a shaky breath. 

The compliment shouldn't have affected him like it did. They had cuddled, twice-once in Virgil's bed-and yet it was some offhand comment about his smile that made Virgil so nervous. Virgil wasn't stupid. He knew that half the stuff that went on between them wasn't platonic, but it wasn't until now that he realised how badly he had to address it. 

Logan was like sunlight. Any time he was in the room, Virgil felt more at ease. Any time he was present, he was a comfortable constant. The more Virgil looked at him, the more he appreciated his existence. The air between them was filled with uncertainty, the two of them tip-toeing around each other, far more than necessary. 

Logan's gravity was pulling Virgil closer and closer. And well, maybe he didn't want it to stop. 

Why the fuck did I have to think about this before attending a remeberence?

....................

Summary : Virgil and Logan are getting ready to go to Thomas’s wake and Virgil has a bit of a gay crisis/bi crisis/bi-sis cause he ended up wearing Logan’s dress shirt. Stupid, I know, but I honestly can’t think of anything else. 

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@true-chaotic-dumbass​

@666frostwolf​

@yerkesdodsoncurve

@sadgayisme​

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