j. davey

Arise, Job

Within
the wildest ocean,
through the rolling
dark waves
the cavernous maw
of the Leviathan
brings your doom –

a consuming
of everything
destruction
within

the belly of the beast

Arise, Job!
You are reborn!
– Redeemed –

Cast off the world
of the land,
of Cities of man
for yours is now
the Ocean
and all her terrible
whims are within you

and yours shall be
the power of the Tempest.

© R.J. Davey 2017

Please...

Have a really gay canon-era Javid one-shot!


It had been ten years since Jack Kelly had last seen Davey Jacobs. After they’d grown too old for selling papers, they’d gone their separate ways. He had gone into the career of a political artist of sorts, his cartoons appearing in the papers on a regular basis, and Davey had continued with his studies until he’d qualified himself to become a teacher. A teacher who read the paper every morning, hoping to see the artwork of his former best friend.
They didn’t fit in each other’s lives anymore, but that didn’t mean Davey didn’t miss him. He’d sit staring at his wedding ring, painfully aware that its match wasn’t on Jack’s finger. When he tucked his daughter in at night he’d wonder what Jack would be like as a father. It was impossible to forget the love of one’s life and so Davey still remembered it all, of course. How they’d kiss up on the roof, and touch. Innocent, then not so innocent, then downright scandalous. But they’d been kids. All guys did it, right? When they were that age? It was a way to blow off steam, to practise before they moved on to courting girls. To let Jack kiss him under the stars until his lips were sore.

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well deserved time spent together [ davey j. x reader ]

words: 740

warnings: um???? out of character davey???? idk i probably should have spent a little more time studying character traits

tag list: @pacman-tattoo @theletterem @fike-maist for u my lovs


Your original plan for your Friday night was simple: curl up next to the fire with a cup of hot tea and a book to relax after a long winter day. Yet here you are, guiding Davey Jacobs to your kitchen because he convinced you to bake cookies with him.

“I really don’t understand why you want to bake so late at night, hun. It’s nearly ten,” you remark as the two of you make your way to your kitchen.

“I gotta have a reason to spend some well deserved time with my girl?” he retorts, his voice thick with his New York accent.

You pivot, so that you’re walking backwards into your kitchen as you face him. “I suppose not.”

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Midnight

It’s midnight
and I’m sat here
a glass of wine, that
melancholy inducer
in hand.

I listen to the wind
whistling outside,
full of potency
the moaning like that
of lonely lost souls

and my thoughts
turn to the metaphor
of the half-empty
wine bottle, and
whether oblivion
will come swiftly
tonight.

© R.J. Davey 2017

Javid Titanic AU - Part 11

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10


Jack knew that the sensible thing to do would be to wait for Davey to contact him, if that ever happened. This boy was rich, confused and incredibly sweet but the last one didn’t negate the first two. Jack had rules about not fraternising with guys who didn’t know what they wanted, and Davey definitely didn’t. He’d clearly enjoyed dancing, but there had been a look of terror in his eyes when Jack had asked him to stay a little longer that spoke a thousand words. Whatever his family was telling him was eating away at him and it was a shame. Jack could see an incredible man underneath all of the layers of repression and self-torment that his parents had heaped on top of him. Every scrap of sense he had told him to stay away until Davey had worked everything in his head out, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to listen to his own advice.

It was surprisingly easy to get to the first class decks. Jack had borrowed a once-smart coat from one of the men he was sharing a cabin with and swiped an abandoned top hat he found on his way up through the ship (it was only borrowing, he was planning to give it back). Walking with purpose got him a long way, no one had any reason to question him if he directed his eyes to exactly where he was planning on going and strode there without wavering. Tugging the coat tight over his worn clothing and nodding under the brim of his hat to stewards who opened doors for him, Jack finally found himself back to the grand staircase he’d met Davey at the night before.

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anonymous asked:

Could you do Davey J NSFW?

J= jack off (masturbation headcanon) he tries to muffle his moans with his hands but he and heLo but let loud moans escape him. His ears tinted pink as his long fingers pump his length desperately

speroergosum  asked:

hii! congrats on 100! may i have a newsies ship? im straight, tiny, can be summed up in two words: hufflepuff and extrovert. incredibly stubborn with a deadpan sort of humor, but since i'm always grinning like that husky meme, it doesn't really have the same effect xD i love pet names and being super subtly touchy-feely, and i love people and life and animals and music and books! my favorite types are people are those who can goof off with me and won't get annoyed with me. thank ya, + congrats!!

ship: davey j :)
blurb: i feel like you and davey would balance each other very well! he loves the subtle PDA like hand holding and forehead kisses. this boy is a huge cuddler when you guys are watching movies though. like the beginning of a movie comes on? he’s immediately opening his arms for cuddles.
playlist:
come fly with me - frank sinatra // being so normal - peach pit // super america - bad bad hats // city of stars - ryan gosling // when the world was at war we kept dancing - lana del rey

If These Things Are Not Permanent, Then Sleep Must Be a Kind of Destruction.

What formless shadows
and invisible things
assail the mind at day’s end
memories and thoughts
furl and fold around each other
each one vying for attention
and slipping out of reach
when one corners them

finally

dancing away with a ghost step
to watch from the periphery
taunting
waiting to return
to start the chase again
and you are doomed
to chase them always
your hands crooked
arthritic
and grasping at nothing
of any import

What truth then lies
in the catching of flies?

What use is the effort
of the chase when
in the dark you
are blind
and cannot even see
your quarry?

Seek then, wish then, fumble then
for in the night you are
no closer to sleep
or closure
or anything
concrete

Everything must die
at the day’s end
to be born anew
into suffering
for this is the way
of the night
and all things.

© R.J. Davey 2017

The Restless Words

He writes poetry
rearranges words
into the perfect order
or so he thinks
but there’s always
an edit there somewhere
and upon re-reads
always something else
hidden in plain sight –

but that’s the beauty
the open-ended story
the restless words
like shifting sands
potential
evolution.

© R.J. Davey 2017

Bonfire Night

In the dark of the room
colours flashed off the walls:
red, green, blue – neon

    flash // bang!!

overhead they screamed
  like Katyushas
fired upon an invisible enemy
beyond that skylight perspective

in the distance, artillery:
destruction, beauty, terror
and the acrid smell of gunpowder
hanging heavily in the smoke-filled
crisp November air –

Somewhere distant the mob
was dancing gleefully
around a burning effigy
of an ancient traitor
beer and burger in hand.

© R.J. Davey 2017