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starrysence · 5 years

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the thunderstorm fic

heyooo i am back kind of with a lil ralbert piece to get back into the writing spirit! hope u enjoy! the fic will be under the keep reading link :D word count is somewhere around 1k and i didnt proofread this bc we die like men. also its a modern au cause i can

tw for astraphobia (fear of thunderstorms) bc thats what this fic is centered around.

the searing white flash of lightning that makes the rapidly falling raindrops visible is enough to alert race as to what will come next; he’ll never admit it, but he immediately begins to tremble, using every ounce of his energy not to move his hands up to cover his ears and muffle the rumble of thunder. albert, who’s been sitting beside him for the better part of four hours to work on a project they’re partners for, takes notice of race’s sudden shaking and frowns.

“you alright, racer?”

race looks at him; albert, albie, al, his best friend, the guy he’s in love with (even though he’s still a little hesitant about admitting that part), and even though the answer to the question is initially no, looking at him does make race feel a little alright. just a little. he thinks about how this - his fear of thunder - is the only thing he’s never told albert about. it’s the one thing he feels too ashamed of to share with albert, but he’s always figured it’s not a big deal; albert wouldn’t ever have to know, right?

well, considering their current circumstances… maybe race has to rethink that one.

“yeah,” he croaks, almost flinching at how small his voice sounds. “yeah, al, i’m good.”

albert raises an eyebrow, and race knows he’s already lost this one.

“you sure? you don’t sound too sure of yourself an’ you’re, like, shaking right now.”

“dammit, albie.” race chuckles, attempting to downplay just how scared he really feels. the attempt fails as his voice quivers about halfway through the first word, and he wants to cry. but he doesn’t. “why d’you have to be so observant?”

“i’m not observant, tonio,” albert responds with a soft smile. “you’re my best friend, of course i’ll know when something’s up with you. i’ve known you long enough to notice when you’re not bein’ totally honest with me about somethin’. now, what’s the matter?”

race falls silent. he knows there’s no escaping this conversation, but he wants to try and avoid it for as long as he can.

"race."

he sighs in defeat. he managed to successfully avoid it for a total of less than two minutes.

"promise you won't make fun of me," race says; he tries his hardest to make his voice firm and steady, but it comes out as a shaky, scared whisper. he feels weak. vulnerable. afraid. he doesn't think his shaking can get any worse but in that moment it does and it makes him feel so pathetic and helpless and suddenly he's trying to make sure his breathing is steady and his vision is clear.

in a second albert is by his side, gripping his hand and wrapping an arm around his shoulder, holding him close. he knows race likes the touch, and race is so glad he just knows because he thinks that if he had to speak another word he would start crying.

"of course i promise not to make fun of you… whatever's got you scared this bad ain't somethin' i'll ever make fun of you for, tonio. you know, i'm sorry for pushing in the first place… you don't have to tell me if it's too hard for you." albert's voice is soft, his tone sincere, and race wonders how he got lucky enough to have a best friend like this.

"i wanna tell you, it's just… hard." race's voice softens more and more as he speaks, ending up as a whisper.

albert nods. "i get that, racer. just… tell me when you're ready."

"yeah… yeah. thanks, al."

a silence falls among the rather small bedroom, but neither of them really mind; it’s that same, familiar comfortable silence that occurs in the few moments when they don’t have anything to talk about.

“do you remember when we met for the first time?”

race looks up at albert, surprised, and blinks. “i guess, yeah… what about it?”

“i just think it’s crazy, you know...” a small smile starts to form on albert’s face, and race can’t help thinking about how much he wants to see that smile all the time every day, how much he wants to kiss those lips. “how it all began, i mean, and then there’s where we are now. when you sat down next to me on the first day of school in second grade and started rambling on and on about how cool you thought stars were, i immediately wanted you to be one of my friends forever. you were the first person to talk to me that year, which was huge to me ‘cause-”

“you’d just moved into the area,” race interrupts softly. the storm is still going on outside, and it shows no signs of quieting down any time soon, and race still feels himself trembling, but this helps; talking helps. touch helps. he helps. albert helps.

“yeah.” there’s a full smile on albert’s face now, and it makes race want to smile, too, but all he can manage is a small upturn of his lips. “and now we’re here, and i love how it is and i love you and i wouldn’t trade this for- for anything in the world.”

the world seems to still in that moment. time stops, noise quiets, everything fades away until it’s just the two of them. race is aware of how cheesy this all sounds in his head, but he can’t bring himself to care.

it was those three words, he knows it was. they've been saying those words to each other for so long; in quick, fleeting moments, in long, heartfelt talks.

"can you stay the night?" race whispers.

"'course i can," albert responds in a soft tone.

“thank you, albie. i love you.”

“and i love you, tonio. always.”

---

i wanted to fit race telling al abt why he’s scared into this but i couldnt find a way to do that without rewriting basically the whole thing, and i love what i have so i didnt want to do that.

long story short… anyone want a lil part 2? :)

-sanj <3

tag list:

[if you want to be added to my tag list, please shoot me an ask or a message letting me know! i’d be happy to add you!]

#newsies #newsies live #newsies broadway #race higgins #racetrack higgins #albert dasilva #ralbert #sanj scribbles #whew havent used that tag in AGES god damn #its good to be back babey

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excusemem1ss · 4 years

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@ajip085723-blog @mihirids @jennarosejones @vital-hiraeth @dylancdl @welcometomynightthoughts @lovehoperomance @mydesignetc @edgeofeverything @offensivelyme @yaeshaq @kalfar @gloomyfacedpadawan @cliffside-ssf @crymonstercry @sheenunaran @naked-city-blog @late-nights-and-daydreams @geniuslastslongerthanbeauty @mymindcircleback @iron-queen @brickandmortar @wetshark-blog @un-dying-love @je-ai-simplement @just-addvodka @whateverhaley @fuxk-y0u-blog @lostmy-focus @paralysed--by--life @infern-um @iknewiwasnotmagnificent22 @little-did-they-kn0w @kenziesodrepoems @worthlesspoet-blog @itsyiffmas @sarabelleee @g00d-vib333zz @roseyposey666 @fab-tori @the-arrogant-writer @iamjameslewis @owlpaws @thebluwallet @thelarryfanfiction @bottomlouehlibrary @jasli12 @sad-overexposed @kilocharlielima9 @goldenflames @braggawear @zarminazee @mpreglouis @kissing-your-lips-at-midnight @noradan5 @misslilswaggeetoperfectyolo-blog @po-gii @criseldalism @bowlfish @ashleysnpdro @tweaksandthemes-blog @adigoddess @aldenbillones @sweetsachie-blog @spindryer-blog @aicaerell-blog @clupkos @buycobabes-blog @ijustineczarina @zfeiyang @sm1likeyou-blog @daryllearcillas @prime-zonin-blog-blog @summer-fridays @mhdashei @quuixote @goingbackwardsonly @fairytalelandscape @allenstumblr @hellomidnightproject-blog-blog @jenesuispasobligex @farhannibal @alphafixies @christinedlr-blog @everythinghappns4areason21-blog @niedrigerfett @pendiiiing-blog-blog @skuxxasourus-blog @inhinyerongputa @nevertheles-s-blog @superjaaa @thingswillgetbetteripromise-blog @callmeayuhh-blog @iloveass3j-blog @realmusicdaily-blog @paubabaran-blog @falloutb0y-z-blog @kidfinity-blog @thisiskylacool-blog @bitchesdreams @jeanfood-blog @chincallasan-blog @matthew17703-blog @mismatchedsoul-blog-blog

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arissayoo · 5 years

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milestone post! #1

recently i have reached 100 followers which is something i never thought would happen or even this fast. Even though i’ve had this blog for years, i only started really using it this summer and it is now officially 4 months old!

As i have said in post before, i am so so so grateful for you guys and being able to spread my works. Writing in my free time makes me happy and i’m glad that you guys enjoy it although it’s not the best. thank you guys for supporting this blog despite my irregular posting schedule and all the recent events.

i will be making a few other surprise posts through the week along with things i had planned to post, but as of now i would like to give you a sneak peek as to what is coming (in no particular order) :)

Neverland update (finally!)

Neverland blooper

Ateez hybrid au

regular incorrect quote posts

(???) 😉

(???)

From all my older and newer followers, to the couple friends i have made on here in the past weeks, i love each and every one of you. [edit: apparently i can only mention only a certain number of people at a time?? so the rest will be included in one of my other post :) ]

@mynameissophiayaya / @denybgib321 / @krysybaby / @dumbtard / @lostmy-seoul / @ari-parkerr / @choisansexual / @milkxxl / @umbyyyy-x / @esdblu / @fangirlingandprocrastinating / @bonana112000 / @foreignuwu / @queer-namjoon / @mariracz / @uaenaexoticinspirit / @moniquetommo / @acewren / @lovingchoisan / @seajii / @planetmarsxx / @agracestar1 / @shaylamcgee / @julielovekpop / @sugarjeans25 / @hyesunluvr / @l0nelyn1ghts-world / @shadiezz5 / @jomojom / @holyjiminssi / @bitvhtea / @princessminkiatinylov3 / @listenthemoose / @ah-urora / @operettax / @decaffeinatedturkeypartyfestival / @jenna-00 / @kookiekookiejeonkookie / @rebelyansisa / @beechuchuu / @lynniev / @miidnightdevil / @angelbyg / @seojonneh / @1picasso1 / @zamiarr / @thatgirlvader / @bayleeraycyrus / @keenpruneslimeeagle / @rosecrystalteartrop / @shyseonghwa / @sansprincess / @onefinehoseok / @islandcupcake / @appleez123 / @soyeonrai / @kpoptookovermysoul / @aphroditeis-lover / @loudestgirl / @joyynct / @farbrena / @cloudyjoongie / @alekolala / @actualday6trash / @ladyleah13 / @ateezs-yeehaws / @mangopoptart / @kamnoyo / @mr-bangchannie / @yes-ilovemyfandoms / @atzbff / @fleur-et-faune

#first milestone #100 followers #thank you #get ready #its about to be a crazy week

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seekingmindatwrk · 5 years

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i love you chaz <3

tag list under the cut :) message me if you want to be added or removed :)

@justanaveragedisaster

@carryyourownbanner

@daveysexual

@ok-but-what-about-connor

@wayward-demigod-witch

@i-got-personality

@trip-03

@nerdsies

@tellthosewithpowersafeintower

@king-of-brooklyn

@yellowish-kitten-drowns-in-fics

@orollyitsracetrackhiggins

@silverishparker

@and-i-lostmy-shoe

#newsies #newsies 2017 #newies movie #1992sies #92sies #newsies broadway #modern newsies #newsies art #my art #chaz wolcott #newsies buttons #buttons #buttons davenport

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shiz-postss · 5 years

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@asexualbert WONT TELL ME HOW THE SLEEP

will someone tell me how the sleep?

Random tags!

@and-i-lostmy-shoe @albert-eats-cookie-cake @all-the-lovely-newsies @garbagekannot @imperfectapollo @n-o-o-s-i-e-s @nomoreunicornsanymore @orollyitsracetrackhiggins @shes-a-plum @suddenly-im-respecsable @sun-kissed-star @theoneandonlyspotconlon

Okay that was alot of people. Sorry if i annoy you.

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pizzas-will-rule-the-world · 5 years

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Hi! I... love your writing so much? It makes me very happy asdfghjkls; 💕💕💕 Could I, um, request 19 for the prompts with Javid?

Thank you so much!!

Read on Archive of our own!

* * *

Title: Is this love?

Relationship: Javid

Genre: Fluff, so much fluff

Words: 1.2k

* * *

It was night, one of those warm summer nights when the day’s heat hadn’t yet disappeared entirely, despite the fact that the sun was setting. Jack and Davey both laid in bed, too tired from the day’s rushed schedule to keep up a conversation. Their day had been far too busy in Jack’s opinion - it was summer break after all, shouldn’t they relax? - filled with carrying boxes and sweating in the merciless sun while Mush and Blink ran around their new apartment like giddy children. The newly moved-in boyfriends had bought all of them pizza, as a thank you for the help with moving, so it could have been worse. And if Jack was honest with himself, the enthusiastic looks his friends had shared all day had been more than enough to make up for the soreness he would feel tomorrow. He had caught the two of them giggling together like schoolgirls a few times during the day, but hadn’t been able to find the heart to remind them to keep carrying boxes into the apartment. Walking around - and realizing that this is it, his friends are becoming adults and graduating college and buying apartments - had made him feel something, but he couldn’t put his finger on what. Excited, sure. And happy for his friends. But also sort of longing for something.

He and Davey had walked home, idly chatting about nothing in particular, and Jack remembered how warm Davey’s hand had been in his, and how calming his presence had been beside him. A steady constance that he knew wouldn’t change, even if their friend’s were all growing up and getting jobs while he’s still slaving away for an art degree.

Their window was cracked opened, and a light breeze sought its way into the room and provided some relief to the clammy warmth in the room. Jack rolled over to his side and felt the covers twist around his torso as he did. Davey had his eyes closed, one hand under his pillow and the other stretched out beside him. There was a shine to his forehead - no doubt sweat - despite the fact that they had taken a cold shower right before going to bed. Jack’s fingers brushed over his cheek, almost without him meaning to. Then he retreated his treacherous hand, because he knew how much Davey loved sleeping and how annoyed he would be if he was woken in the middle of the night. Jack watched him for another moment, not really being able to tear his gaze away. Davey’s brow furrowed, as if he was having a nightmare, before smoothing out again after a second.

And there it was again, that pang of longing Jack couldn’t explain. A deep pull in his stomach aching, almost like a hunger he didn’t know how to still.

Was this love? Like an unyielding battle inside of him, tearing at his stomach, and heart, and lungs, fighting despite the fact that it was already won?

Jack knew he loved David, he had known it for a long time. The fact that they had known each other for years before they started dating had turned their whole relationship backwards. They had said they loved each other many time before they kissed for the first time, before even going on their first date. The words had been said so many times between them that some would argue they were losing their meaning.

But now, laying in the bed with Davey next to him, Jack was certain that wasn’t the case. How could something lose its meaning just because you said it many times? The words weren’t less true just because they were spoken repeatedly. And besides, it was something he couldn’t possibly keep to himself anyway, he wasn’t nearly strong enough for that.

He brushed his fingers over Davey’s face again, this time touching his nose and forehead, smoothing out invisible lines that could only be seen when Davey was very concentrated. His nose twitched and Jack could see a small pull at the corner of his lips. Then his eyes fluttered opened, and their eyes met.

“Why are you awake?” Davey asked. His voice was laced with sleep and kind of rough but also quiet and soft. The pull in Jack’s stomach intensified, urging him to move closer, to touch and to hold and to never let go, and to tell him…

“I love you.”

Davey yawned. “That’s nice. Is that why you’re awake?”

Jack moved closer and wrapped an arm around Davey’s side. It was way too warm to lay so close, but Davey didn’t complain. “I’m awake because I keep thinking about how much I love you.”

Davey closed his eyes, but smiled and nodded before resting his forehead against Jack’s. “Maybe you should sleep.”

Jack let out a breath, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. “It feels like something inside of me is moving, and growing, and pulling at me to do something, but I can’t figure out what it wants me to do, until I see you. And then I… Understand. Because it’s you, it’s always you.”

“The thing inside of you wants you to do me?”

Jack shoved Davey, who laughed breathily. “I’m opening my heart to you, here, and you’re being an asshole.” But there was a smile in Jack’s voice, just to make sure Davey knew he wasn’t really upset.

“Sorry,” Davey mumbled into Jack’s neck. “It’s just that I’m only now realizing what a big mistake it was to date an artist. So many metaphors.”

“You’re a writer!”

Davey was smiling widely now. “Right, right…”

They were both quiet for a moment. Jack started tracing words and pictures with his finger on Davey’s arm. He bit his tongue for almost a whole minute, before feeling the creature inside of him urge him on again. He stilled his hand and looked up at Davey’s face. His eyes were still closed, mouth half opened, breathing slowly in and out.

“Hey, babe?”

“Yeah?”

“How much do you love me?”

Davey rolled over to his back. “A lot more if you let me sleep.”

Jack giggled and scooted closer. “Please.” He leaned over and placed a light kiss below Davey’s ear. “How much do you love me?”

Davey’s eyes fluttered opened again and he turned back. “You really want to know?”

Jack nodded. Davey’s gaze was hesitant now, not teasing like it had been a minute ago. It took him a long moment to say anything, and Jack could almost see the thoughts fly through Davey’s brain, trying to string words together.

“I…” Then Davey stopped and retreated back into himself for a couple of seconds before opening his mouth again. “I think… I think I love you more than, more than my mind and body can handle. I think that if I think too long or too hard about how much I love you, I might explode because a human can’t handle feeling this much at once.”

His gaze broke from Jack’s and instead moved to the open window, out of which a street lamp and a tree could be seen from the bed. Jack didn’t follow his gaze, however, as he was too busy watching his boyfriend breathe in and out at a steady pace. He smiled. “And you called me sappy.”

“I never called you sappy.”

“It was implied.”

Davey snorted softly and shook his head. There was another minute of silence before he turned back and looked at Jack. “What brought this on?” he asked.

Jack moved forward and kissed him softly. “You did.”

* * *

TAGLIST

@mckpricely

@kreativekiss

@wafflesareh0t

@fanfictionrecommendations-com

@lifeform-42

@yaboigrass

@modern-race-owns-airpods

@jan-jan-jan-jan-jan-199

@thats-our-que-boys

@spotrash

@theprincelypariah-blog

@romeo-in-a-trenchcoat

@and-i-lostmy-shoe

@uiopp11-blog

@i-aint-tapped-out

@colbys-blue

@everyonecalmdown

@technically-whizzy

@rivertellsstories

@rainfallingfromthesky

@frens-brudders-fellerciterzens

@glewstick101

@tea-and-theater

@graves-is-here

@blue-taco-soul-collector

@yes-cleargrace-stuff

@ok-but-what-about-connor

@pikapika1717

@big-potato-asshole

@power-of-the-sun

@janesbooknook

@sparklymental

@richie-rambling

@trip-03

@ab0ve-the-f0ld

@carryyourownbanner

#newsies #my writing #ask #tellthosewithpowersafeintower #Thank you for the prompt!!!

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signals-over-the-air · 5 years

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So I just saw this on another tumblr blog I follow: dream roles for mutuals? ❤💜💙💛💚💖

okay ooooh boy here we go, this ain’t gonna be a complete list of everyone cuz there’s so many aahahfjkskf

@papesdontsellthemselves he’s my racetrack higgins buddyyyyy

@starrysence I always picture you as elmer? idk it works

@and-i-lostmy-shoe I want you to be enjolras cuz ur brave and badass

@spot-me50-papes tommy boy cuz. iykyk

@tellthosewithpowersafeintower ur my jojo cuz you’re so sweet!@buttons-in-the-refuge buttons, u know why@suddenly-im-respecsable albert cuz pure chaos@aw-jus-let-em-try ur a badass leader and I respect you sO much also spot would totally be on lights and we’ve talked about lighting before, it works in my head shhhhh@awkwardstranger98 crutchieeeee@pineappapizza I could see you as finch? idk why but it works for me@jd-sammy davey cuz you’re so smart and you always take care of me!!!!@gayghosties can i cast you as bertthat’s all i’m listing for now oop I love you all

#ask whizzy #whizzy speaks #ask mama whizzy #answered asks #anon #about me #mutuals

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auspicioustarantula · 6 years

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Any cute fluffy Davey hc‘s (only if you want to of course), I love your writing so much!

yah!!! u guys i love davey so much i will always write hcs for him (thanks for waiting for this!!) a lot of these can be both modern & canon :)

› davey tends to saythe name of the person he’s talking to at the end of sentences. oftentimes, hedoesn’t even realize it, even if he’s done it several consecutive times. hegets really flustered whenever someone points it out, but it hasn’t stopped him.it’s in his subconscious, so he doesn’t even have a reason for doing it.

› he carries around asmall bag filled with not exactly emergency supplies, but what he describes as“minor catastrophe supplies”. in his pouch, one can find nail clippers, a nailfile, a pair of tweezers, a small compact mirror, a bottle of ibuprofen and oneof aspirin, some chapstick, pads and tampons, a pen, and a couple of bandaids.at first, all of the boys laughed at him for always having it on him, but, oneat a time, after using one or more of the supplies from the bag, slowly startedthanking him for always being prepared.

› davey is quick tolearn other people’s love languages, especially any romantic partners he has oris interested in. he will adjust his behavior accordingly to make his significantother as happy as possible. it’s not him being manipulative in order to winbrownie points, it’s him being a genuinely kind and caring person.

› he has a hard timeopening up to people. in grade school, he was shamed and teased for hisprecocious interests surrounding the civil war, medical history, and latin.while continuing to study these subjects, he no longer shared his findings withanyone in fear of being made fun of. this escalated into him no longer sharingmany things about himself—new subjects he discovered that intrigued him, songsthat he really liked, his favorite kind of sandwich. he simply thought nothinghe had to say was worth sharing. he’s still learning to share his thoughts andopinions with others, but he’s doing better than he was.

› sometimes he findsit hard to explain exactly what he wants to say, especially when it comes toromantic interests. this being said, he likes to leave notes and cards for his loveto find. in these, one will find heart-sickeningly sweet messages that he’sconstructed. without the pressure of having to reply in real time, davey can putwords together like no one else. often accompanied by these notes are little chocolateor pressed flowers or, if he’s feeling a little frivolous, a gift card.

› davey does not haveneat print. his cursive is beautiful and completely readable, but his regularhandwriting is so tiny and scrunched up that sometimes even he has troublereading what he’s written. he’s got “doctor handwriting”, as jack calls it.

› davey has a small birthmarkon his lower back. it’s just a little splotchy oval and it took him a reallylong time to love it.

› his fight or flightinstinct is, to say the least, not grounded very well. it depends on the dayand probably on what he ate for breakfast. davey jacobs is perfectly capable ofholding his own in a fight—it’s not likely that he’ll win, but he can keephimself from being beat up until someone else comes to help him.

like this post to be added to my taglist!

#ask #anon #julswrites #julshc #davey #davey jacobs #newsies #newsies live #broadway

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sludgesoup-archive · 5 years

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its sort of late im like. going off the hook and jerma did hhis shushing sheeto bit and i lostmy mind immediately like I LOVE YOU SHEETO

#reagent #lms / reply if u see !

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rivertellsstories · 6 years

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Have some fear, something’s here.

A spoopy Sprace story. Sprace isn’t actually important lol, I just thought the story went best with them

Words: 1310

"Oh stop it", Race says and slaps his boyfriend playfully on the chest. "You know I'm right", Spot counters smugly, keeping his eyes on the road. "Doesn't mean you get to say it", Race sighs and leans his head against the car window. The landscape glides by slowly, a consistent picture of dark trees against an evenly dark sky. The slow pace of the car combined with Spot's humming in the background is a perfect mixture to make Race's eyes droop. "Ya sleepy?" Spot asks, startling Race awake. The effect lasts about two seconds before he can feel himself slipping off again. "Yeah", he mumbles and he thinks he hears Spot let out a little laugh. "Then go to sleep, loser."

The sound of thunder and Spot cursing wakes Race up once more. Sleepily, he yawns and rubs his eyes. "What's going on babe?" This time it's Spot who startles and Race gives his annoyed boyfriend a small grin. "The car broke down. I think the engine broke", he grumbles and Race groans. "Man, it's still a journey of three hours before we get home. I just wanna sleep."

"I know Racer", Spot shushes him, letting his fingers trail through golden curls before playfully tugging on one particularly stubborn curl. Race hisses at him in discontent, but doesn't move, unwilling to change his sleep inducing fetal position. His annoying boyfriend is not going to mess with his comfort, hell no.

"I'll go look for a gas station. With some luck, we'll be back on track in no time. Does that sound like a good plan?" Race nods. "Yep. I'll stay here and catch some more z's, if you don't mind. Also, I've been hearing about stereos getting stolen, so for the sake of our stereo, I'll stay here." Laying his hands on his chest in attempt to look wounded, Spot exhales dramatically. "I have the most wonderful boyfriend. More concerned about his stereo instead of his boyfriend venturing out in the woods."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever drama queen. Go get some fuel."

"Aren't you charming?" Spot remarks dryly before pressing a kiss to Race's forehead. "Get some rest, you look more awful than usual, bitch." Before Race can start a tirade of protests, Spot presses a swift kiss to his lips. "Love ya, sweatie."

"It's sweetie, you dick! I'm not sweaty!" Race yells as Spot exits the car. "Whatever you say love. Keep the doors locked and be safe." Race waves his boyfriend goodbye. "You too."

Race sleeps for another two hours before the storm restarts and he gets once again woken up by the sound of the rolling thunder. He looks around in search of Spot before remembering that the other man has gone out. Shrugging his shoulders, he rearranges himself in attempt to go to sleep again.

Morpheus doesn't come for him again and Race is left waiting for his boyfriend to come back with only the howling of the wind accompanying him. Gnawing at his bottom lip, he decides that the woods have a very different vibe about them without Spot at his side to make stupid jokes about them. Loneliness and something else threatens to creep upon him. Unwilling to get freaked out by a bunch of trees, Race puts on the stereo and stubbornly sings along to Laura Pausini's 'La solitudine'. Nothing wrong with some Italian 90s nostalgia to beat spooky woods.

The trick works and for a solid half hour, Race amuses himself by singing along to Spot's "secret" collection of Disney cd's. But then, halfway through Hellfire, the stereo starts malfunctioning and the only sound that comes through is the repeated "mea culpa". As Race stares at the system in disgust, even that sound abruptly gets cut off and the last thing he hears are the words "Kyrie eleison" and the meaning of them, combined with the fact that it doesn't sound the way it always does, makes Race shiver.

The sudden halt of the music, forces Race to listen to the pitter pattering of the rain and the occasional clap of thunder. But ever so slowly, the raindrops on the roof of the car stop sounding like raindrops and Race's mind starts wandering. Is that truly nothing more than the sound of the rain? His thoughts take him back to the previous evening, where'd spent his time looking up videos of black-eyed children together with Spot.

They knock on car windows, he remembers as something persistently goes tip-tap. Is it nothing more than the rain or are those the tiny, hesitant steps of a child? He can hear her now, a little girl getting closer to his car. Tip-tap. Those are her footsteps for sure. Within seconds, she'll reach for the door handle and try to open it. When that will turn out futile, she'll tap on the window. Eyes wide open and curls framing an innocent looking face, as she'll asks that one faithful question. "Won't you open the door, sir?" Tip-tap. And there it is. A tiny knock on his window. Race really doesn't want to look, but humans are nothing if not slaves to their own curiosity. Slowly, he turns to face the window.

In the darkness, he can't make out a thing, but when he lays eyes upon the tree close to his car, his heart rate calms down. It was probably just a twig hitting his window. He ignores the fact that the tree has very short branches and that none of them could've been long enough to hit his window.

"You're a crazy one", he says to his image in the rear-view mirror. He swears he can see something behind him move, but he ignores it and stubbornly stares into the mirror. If he doesn't turn around, it isn't really there. God, playing Bloody Mary in the sixth grade wasn't as scary as this. How did that game go again? Say her name three times and she'll show up or something along those lines.

'Bloody Mary', Race thinks, unwilling to utter the words, but his brain still curious and stupid. He doesn't want to see her, doesn't want to know whether the urban legends are true or not and yet, his brain defies him by staring deeply into the mirror and thinking the forbidden duo of words a second time. Who knows what happens if you only think it? Surely, that wouldn't be enough to summon her? Or would it? Morbidly curious, Race keeps staring at his reflection. It doesn't look like him. Of course the face is the same one, but the aura around it is different.

He tears his gaze away from the mirror before he can think the words for a third time. A cold gust of air hits the back of his neck, making the hairs there stand up. It feels like a breath, soft and delicate, but one that's as cold as the inside of a tomb.

Unwilling to dwell on that thought any longer, he thinks back to everything that happened this week and tries to remember something funny. His worry about Spot threatens to overtake any and all activity in his brain, but Race successfully represses that. He retreats back to Tuesday, where they had dressed Kid Blink up as a pirate. The guy had swung his hook in a lacklustre way and had said 'ar' in the most deadpan manner possible. With a smile, Race tries to ignore the sound of something scratching his car and a voice whispering: "Let me in." Shaken and worried, Race falls asleep.

When he wakes up the next morning and still sees no sign of his boyfriend he doesn't know what to do. Before he leaves the car, he takes a deep breath to steel himself.

After opening the door, he's at a total || || |_ for words when he sees the scene in front of him.

Man door...hand hook

Car door

Tag list:

@have-we-got-news-for-you

@and-i-lostmy-shoe

@newsies-more-like-gaysies

@sure-as-a-star

#sprace #racetrack higgins #Spot Conlon #race newsies #rivers stuff #fic

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turtle-steverogers · 5 years

Note

I can’t write for shit but I know you are really talented ,so what about an angst about Spot going to war and he doesn’t make it back and Race and their 1 year old son go to visit his grave and talk to him? Idk you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to but I thought it was a really cool idea

hi! so this is a pretty on brand prompt (especially for a certain upcoming Thing, but...,,.,) but anyway yeah here’s a fic. hope i did your idea some justice!

warnings: lots of talk of death, but nothing graphic. my shitty, caffeine muddled writing (truly, not my best work, sorry)

ship: sprace

word count: 1529

editing: nein

Just Out of Reach

“Aye, Sergeant, need some water up there?”

“Yeah, thanks man.”

A water bottle is passed up to Spot, and he takes it, taking one hand off the M2 machine gun that’s deadbolted down in front of him and using his teeth to unscrew the cap. He hadn’t realized how goddamn thirsty he’d been, but it’s fairly easy and not at all uncommon to lose touch with yourself during the methodical cycle of a mission.

Really, it’s just reconnaissance. Mapping out the desolate land that surrounds base- cataloguing the unknowns and the possible threats. It’s the simple stuff. The required bits that make the more strategic missions possible. But they still take long as hell and Spot’s willing to bet that he’s sweat through his fatigues by now as he bakes in the desert sun. His helmet is scratchy and the army-issued goggles are digging into his skull, squeezing his brain and making his head throb. The water helps a bit.

His vehicle is at the front of the convoy, and somehow, he found himself perched in the turret, calculating gaze scanning around for anything amiss. They near an Iraqi village, vacated looking buildings lining either side of the sandy, dirt road.

Spot thinks he sees a few windows shutter closed and when he looks to his left, there’s a little girl (she can’t be more than five. Christ) sitting on her stoop, knees pulled up to her chest. She’s staring at the convoy, eyes wide and fearful and fingers plugged into her ears. Spot feels a pang of...of something. Guilt, maybe. Sympathy.

Really, none of these people asked for this. They never wanted big, scary men in big, scary vehicles shouting out foreign remarks and invading their space- their homes.

Spot forces his gaze back to the front, willing himself to focus back on the task at hand. But he can’t help his mind wandering back to that little girl. There was something about her. The innocence, maybe. The simplistic look of discernable fear in the face of something scary.

He thinks of Teddy.

His son’s own wide, brown eyes and chubby, five year old cheeks. Really, they’re not so different- that girl and Teddy. They’re lives are so drastically diverse from one another, but they share that same, innate naivete. The all prevailing look of curiosity that only kids can convey.

Spot misses Teddy.

Granted, he always misses him and Race. The feeling isn’t mutually exclusive to any one moment, but sometimes the ache will grow into more of a pain, gripping his chest with longing to kiss his husband and hug his son. Maybe dig his fingers into Teddy’s sides as he picks him up and swings him, planting an exaggerated kiss on his cheek. It’s a foolproof way to make him laugh. And if Race is there, he’ll laugh too. There are some things in life he can count on to be constant, and his family is one of them.

He comes back to himself as he nears a stoplight and suddenly, something in the world seems wrong. He’s just about to secure himself around the gun when there’s a shout from down below and then the humvee is jerkily rolling to a stop and that’s when Spot sees the wire and that can only mean someone’s going to die if they don’t fucking stop right fucking now and--

Nothing.

“Papa, can we go see Daddy today?”

Race freezes halfway through screwing the cap off a carton of milk. He turns to look at his son and finds him staring at him in all his six and a half year old glory. His hair is a mess of bedhead and sleep and even though Race had gotten him up and dressed in a decent amount of time for a Saturday, he still looks rumpled. But that’s just how kids are, Race guesses.

It had been a year since Race’s life took a tumble into the realm of his worst nightmare. A year since Lieutenant Kelly and Sergeant Jacobs had shown up on his doorstep, clad in Army Service Uniforms and wearing twin, somber looks.

It hadn’t taken long for Race to piece together why they were there.

That day was still hazy, a jumbled mix of numb shock and things like, “we regret to inform you” and “killed in action” and then there was Teddy pulling at his pant leg and asking him with those wide goddamn eyes why “guys dressed like Daddy” were there and Race didn’t know how to tell him that Daddy’s gone, because how the hell do you explain that to a five year old and he wasn’t equipped to deal with something like this and he still isn’t and-

Yeah. A nightmare.

Race still isn’t sure if Teddy knows exactly what happened. He seems to understand that Spot is gone and that fundamentally, he isn’t coming back, but he doesn’t think Teddy understands death yet. The finality of it- the weight behind the concept.

It was inexplicably haunting to see Teddy not crying at Spot’s funeral. Race was crying. Hell, Race was a mess. It was so bad that Albert had to take over his eulogy and Jojo had to watch Teddy for a few minutes while he lost his shit in the bathroom.

But Teddy hadn’t cried. He’d just clung to Race with a tight grip and wide, bewildered eyes, not saying a word.

“Sure, bud,” Race says, shaking himself and pouring the milk into Teddy’s bowl of Lucky Charms, “we can go see Daddy.”

He takes Teddy along to Spot’s grave fairly often, but he never really knows how much of it he processes. Like at the funeral, he’s always quiet and subdued when they go, never really saying anything. Just sitting in Race’s lap, head bent into the crook of his neck as he stares at the headstone.

“Yay!” Teddy bounces a little in his seat, grinning as Race sets his breakfast in front of him, “I want to tell him about my dance recital!”

Something in Race’s chest cracks open, making him feel simultaneously warm and cold and entirely overwhelmed.

On their way to the cemetery later, they pass a man selling custom bouquets on the street. Brilliant mixes of orchids and roses, gardenias and anemones, bleeding color into the cold grey of winter, and when Teddy sees them and turns that pleading look on Race, well, who is he to say no?

“Hi, Daddy!”

For once, Race stays a little off to the side, watching his son sit cross legged in front of Spot’s grave. He’s talking, words spilling out at about a mile a minute, but Race tunes them out. This is their private moment and he doesn’t want to get in the way of that.

“I kinda wish you coulda seen it, but…” Teddy shrugs, mouth grimacing in a way that’s so strikingly Spot that Race has to close his eyes for a moment, “That’s okay. I know you woulda come if you coulda.”

And, well, ouch.

“Anyway, I brought my scarf for you, Daddy,” Race opens his eyes to see Teddy carefully wrapping his little Thomas the Tank Engine scarf around the headstone, just over where he’d placed the flowers they picked up earlier, “‘Cause it’s getting cold and Papa always tells me that scarves help make you super warm.”

Race has to bite his lip to keep from crying or doing something stupid to ruin his son’s moment and, like, breakdown in front of him.

“Anyway, I’ll let you talk to Papa now, ‘cause I know he always likes to talk to you a little,” He smacks a kiss onto his palm and presses it to Spot’s engraved name, “Bye bye, Daddy, I love you.”

When he turns to look at Race, he’s smiling. It’s big and unyielding and Race fucking melts, because this is all he really wants. Sure, when Teddy gets older, Spot’s absence will ring loud and daunting, but hell, if he can have any ounce of peace with it then, well, Race...Race is fucking ecstatic. He can handle this.

“Your turn, Papa!” Teddy says, beckoning Race to sit down and climbing into his lap when he does.

“Thanks, little man,” Race hugs Teddy close, “Did you have a good time talking to Daddy?”

“Uh huh,” Teddy says, squirming a little in Race’s tight hold, “I know he was listening super good, I could feel it.”

Race swallows, “Oh yeah?” Teddy nods, “I’m super glad, Teds.”

And maybe, really, that’s what this is about. Spot’s death was a curveball thrown with the wrong hand, jarring a perceived reality and shifting everything Race had known a little too far to the left. And no, it isn’t okay. Maybe it’ll never be okay, but it doesn’t have to be. Spot’s still there, lingering somewhere in their hearts and made real by his memory- their memories of him. He’s still palpable, still reachable, and if Teddy can feel it, maybe Race can too.

Race takes a breath, fortifying and fond, then smiles. It doesn’t feel so strained and Race feels just that much lighter when he clears his throat.

“Hey, Spottie…”

it wasn’t very good don’t clown me please my brain said ‘sorry bud’ today

thanks for reading, chiefs

hmu to be added to my tag

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#newsies #racetrack higgins #newsies fic #spot conlon #sprace #oof

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