le pouts

2

This is an idea I came up with a week ago while I was watching a TV show. I apologize for two Newsies posts in a row, but, these are for my fellow fansies! Love you guys and this fandom so much.

I get to go see the show on my birthday (March 3), so get ready for a lot more posts after that!
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The warm summer night wind tosses your hair softly around your shoulders as you walk down the street. The feel of the soft dirt road crunching comfortably under your boots and the familiar noise of New York City helps soothe you somewhat. Who you’re about to see will help calm you down too.

Work was hard today.

After graduating college last year, you got a job as the head photographer at The Sun. At least, that’s what you thought. Your job title is Head Photographer, but what you do has almost nothing to do with photography at all. Your boss never lets you out of the office to take pictures of the latest stories, but rather it’s your job to manage the men who go out every day, taking mediocre, uninteresting pictures. Of course, you would lose your job if you ever said that to their faces, though.

You pick up your pace when you realize how close you are to Jack’s usual selling spot. It’s about seven o'clock, but he should still be out; he’s usually one of the last ones to head back to the lodging house. Turning the corner, you see Jack standing in the middle of the market, pape held high as he hawks out today’s headline. Just as you thought.

He catches sight of you walking towards him and grins, sauntering over to meet you halfway. You both stop in front of each other, smiling in a way that onlookers know how in love you both are with each other for a good ten seconds before he asks: “Care for today’s pape, miss?”

“How about a walk?”

Jack smiles softly. “Anythin’ for the lady.” He stuffs his last paper in his bag before wrapping a strong arm around your waist. The two of you walk out of the noisy market place. “There’s somethin’ I’s been meanin’ ta show ya.”

You don’t respond, just shift closer to Jack for comfort as the two of you walk. He turns his head and looks down at you worriedly. “You alright, (y/n)?”

Sighing, you shake your head. “No.”

He stops walking and you stop with him, but don’t turn your head to face him. You keep your head down and feel his warm, calloused hands take yours. He steps in front of you and bends down slightly so he’s looking you in the eye. His concerned brown eyes ask you if you’re alright while his voice asks: “What happened?”

You shake your head. “It’s just not easy being head photographer when they won’t even let me do my job because I’m a woman.” Jack’s eyes flicker with realization and then understanding, but you continue on before he can reply: “I just don’t get why it should be any different.

“Even after I took that picture for Katherine’s story for your guys’ strike, I still get nothing.” You laugh exasperatedly. “She’s over there ruling the headlines of The World, while I’m stuck at the Sun watching as Jarvis and Lance–”

“(y/n).”

“–bring in mediocre, boring pictures everyday.”

“(y/n).”

“They expect to just show up with a camera and–”

“(y/n)!” Jack says loudly, cutting you off from your rant.

(e/c) eyes widening, you quickly look down at your intertwined hands. Jack and you have only been together for about two months (two months after the strike), that was completely out of line. “I’m so sorry, Jack. That was not ladylike at all.”

There’s silence between the two of you for a moment before Jack laughs. You look up at him slowly, and his amused eyes lock with your surprised ones. He lets go of your hands and wraps an arm around your shoulders as the two of you continue to walk again.

“(y/n), I don’t care if you’s ladylike or if ya ain’t,” he says, still grinning. “One of the best things about ya is that ya speak your mind.” He pauses. “And, you’s right about your job.”

“Really?”

He nods, and the two of you turn the corner, down the street the lodging house is on. “For sure. You worked twice as hard as those bums, you deserve to be out there doin’ the job of a real photographer.”

You look up at the sky, sighing in exasperation. “Then what should I do?”

Jack follows your gaze up and puffs out his bottom lip in thought, making you giggle. “Well,” he starts, stepping in front of you and taking your hands again, making you stop walking. “I say you take your own pictures for the stories and show them to your boss wit’ the pictures the men took. Let him decide whose is better, which will most definitely be yours.” He winks at you and you smile.

You nod and pull him in for a hug. He always knows what to say. “Thanks, Jack.”

After the two of you pull away from the embrace, Jack smiles softly down at you. “Anytime, (y/n). Now come on, I gots somethin’ ta show ya.”

Looking up, you notice that you’ve been standing in front of the Lodging House for the past five minutes. You follow Jack up the stone steps and he opens the door for you. Stepping over the threshold, you’re immediately met with the sound of shouting, chaotic newsboys.

The first thing you notice is a very angry looking Race chasing after a cackling Albert, who seems to have taken one of the older boy’s cigars. Again. “Give it back, ya punk!” Race yells.

Davey sits a wooden chair in the corner of the room, one hand holding the book he’s currently reading and the other holding an antsy, pouting Les in place so he doesn’t get caught up in the fight. Specs, Finch, Romeo, and some of the other boys are all watching the chase, yelling out their insults and/or encouragements for the two sides.

Crutchie’s the first to notice you enter from where he leans against the wall near the ladder. His trademark grin spreads across his whole face, making you feel even better about today. The way his eyes twinkle and his whole being just lights up when he smiles just makes everything better.

You take the couple of steps over to your best friend (and Jack’s brother), and join him in watching the brawl. “How are you?” he asks casually.

Shrugging, you press yourself closer to the wall briefly as Romeo comes flying past you. Albert passes the cigar to him, and Race’s face turns a whole new shade of red that you didn’t think was even humanly possible to accomplish. “I’m okay,” you reply.

All of a sudden, Romeo turns his back on Race for one second to say something to Specs, and Race tackles him to the ground. You wince at the huge thud that sounded when the two of them hit the floor, and the rest of the boys all yell even louder and jump in on opposite sides of the fight, insults flying everywhere as they wrestle.

“Race, get off, get off!”

“Rome, I’m gonna kick your skinny little–”

You notice Jack walk into the room out of the corner of your eye, and turn your head just in time to see his eyes narrow at the pile of newsies. “Hey!” He shouts. Just that one word from their leader is enough to still the boys. “What’s going on here, huh?”

Various versions of the situation all come flooding out of the boys’ mouths, and you smile. Jack, however, just crosses his arms and yells, “Quiet down!” They all immediately shut up, and Jack rolls his eyes, turning to look at where Davey still sits, reading a book. “Dave?”

Not even looking up, the brainiac responds: “Al took Race’s cigar, again, and after a chase, they all took sides and ended up in this position.”

“Thank you,” Jack says. He turns back to the rest of the boys, who are now standing up and glaring at each other. “Now, can’t you act civilized around a lady?”

“Your goil, you mean, Jackie?” Race butts in, and you roll your eyes slightly, trying to cover up your blush.

Jack rolls his eyes at Race. “Ah, shut up you. (y/n) and I will be upstairs on the roof. Crutchie’s in charge.” The boys roll their eyes and mumble to each other behind Jack’s back as he walks back over to you and takes your hand. After saying goodbye to Crutchie, the two of you begin to make your way up to the roof, with the sound of catcalls and protests trailing behind you.
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“Ya see how the lights just kinda fade off into nothin’?”

Lifting your head off of Jack’s shoulder, you look at his face, beautifully lit by the moon that hangs peacefully over the city tonight, and the lights of the city beneath you. His eyebrows are cinched together as he ponders, looking off into the distance. Squeezing his hand, you look where he’s looking, and, for the first time, notice how the bright lights of the city do slowly fade off into the horizon. “Yeah, I see.”

Jack smiles dreamily, letting his head fall back a little bit, eyes never leaving the horizon. “That’s where I was going.”

“Was?” You ask.

He turns his head to look at you and grins, taking your other hand in his. “Was.” You snuggle back into his side, letting the comforting feel of your hands in his wash over you. “I had this dream, (y/n). Before the strike, I was goin’ ta Santa Fe. The most beautiful, most green city out west.”

“Crutchie once told me about Santa Fe,” you mumble into his shoulder, still not looking up. “What happened to it?”

His shoulders move up and down as he chuckles a little bit. “I found you.” You lift your head up and look at him with wide eyes. You certainly weren’t expecting that answer. He chuckles nervously and lifts your hands to his chest, and you blush.

“(y/n), from the moment you walked in the room, I realized I got a new dream. Love at first sight’s for suckers. At least, it used to be.” You giggle and his eyes brighten at the sound. “But, seriously. You had my heart the minute ya walked in. And (y/n)… You are my Santa Fe.”

Your heart swells with love. “I-”

He cuts you off by leaning in and kissing you passionately, letting your hands go so one of his can cradle your cheek, and the other can pull you closer to him by your waist. You weave one of your hands into his hair, feeling his gray cap slide off as you kiss, and your other hand wraps around his waist. The two of you are pressed so tightly together, you’re thankful you’re on a rooftop so only the stars and the moon can see you.

After a couple of minutes, you pull away from the kiss, breathless and blushing, and still stealing small ones from each other. He presses his forehead to yours and smiles softly. “I love you, (y/n). So much.”

Giggling, you peck his lips one more time. “I love you too.”

Chapter 18 of Camp Mountain Ridge is out! Pretty long chapter today!

Their table was called up to get food, and Les came back with a pile of cheese and croutons on his plate. “What is that?” David asked, pointing at the pile.

“A salad,” Les stated, as if it were obvious.

David took his fork and poked at the pile and, sure enough, there wasn’t even a single leaf of lettuce underneath. “No. Just because it comes from the salad bar, that doesn’t automatically make it a salad. Try again.”

Les pouted. “But it’s hot dog night and they’re not kosher.”

David fixed Les with a stern expression. “First of all, they’re kosher beef dogs. Second, you don’t even keep kosher and you know it.”

Imagine Enjolras getting kicked out of his house, and being scouted by a modelling company a few weeks later while he’s at the mall with Les Amis.  He grudgingly agrees, even though he knows nothing about fashion (or whatever “high” fashion is), because he needs to be able to pay rant.  

So he goes to the company for a photoshoot a few days later and they immediately decide that he has an amazing walk and needs to be on the runway.

Cue an very disgruntled Enjolras, scowling, wearing a ridiculous outfit that nobody in their right mind would ever put on their body voluntarily, and stalking angrily down a runway because he hates this job but needs the money.  

And after the show is done, people talk about how natural and aggressive his walk is and he’s known for his “attitude.”  But it’s actually all just really scary pouting.

The Gods finding out MC got a boyfriend.
  • Leon:
  • *Le smirks* "Pfft, goldfish of a fin flock together."
  • Scorpio: "IDONTGIVEAFUCKABOUTYAFRIGGINFILTHYLIFEWITHYAFILTHYGUY...Stupid woman."
  • Teorus:
  • "Huu?? Geez...No fair, you are MY <strike>hookup</strike> Goldie." *Le pouts*
  • Dui:
  • *Thinks it through* "... Y-you are still gonna make me cherry pies, aren't you?"
  • Huedhaut:
  • *Closes book* "Poor boyfriend." *Reopens book*
  • Ichthys:
  • "Sounds like fuuuuun! Can I join in? Can I join in ? Can I join in ? Can I join iiiiinnn?
#74: Favorite Movie

Ashton: “You’re kidding, right?” Ashton asks as he walks into your flat, and you can hear him hanging up his jacket as you continue to belt. “LOOK DOWN, LOOK DOWN, YOU’RE STANDING IN YOUR GRAVE!” Walking into the living room, he can’t help but laugh as you stand on the couch, singing to your TV. “Again? What is this, like the third time you’ve done this.” You roll your eyes and shove Ash lightly. “Excuse you, this is my favorite part, stop distracting me. 24601!” Ashton sighs, but pulls you down into his lap with one giant pull. Kissing your neck, he lets you finish the song before lying you down and kissing you again. “Ashton Irwin, you little shit!” You tell him, but pull him down to you again. “If we do this every day, you may take up my Les Mis time…” You pout, once he lets up. “I think our time is better than Les Mis time.” He says, kissing your neck again, his hands running up and down your sides, making you shiver. “Maybe… Maybe Les Mis is a close second." 

Calum: "But we watched that last time, Calum.” You tell your boyfriend when he holds up the last racy film he wanted to watch with you, eager to see you squirm uncomfortably as people stripped in plain view of the camera. “So, it’s my turn to pick.” You announce, pulling out the most worn out DVD in your shelf- Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. Calum let out a groan, but a smile was unmistakably etched onto his face. Snuggling into his chest as the movie begins, he hums the intro along with you. And when Dumbledore has his speech, Calum quotes everything word for word. “Dumbo.” You whisper into his chest, and he squeezes you tight. “I blame you, otherwise I’d never had watched this movie ever.” “Yeah, but you like it you stupid beautiful amazing man.” You tell him, poking his face. 

Luke: “Is it that day?” Luke asks, as the sunlight streams into your room and the unusually warm fall air blows in through your window. Checking the calendar on your wall, it read October 3rd. “Yes Luke, it is that day.” You tell him, jumping up and pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a tank top. Behind you, Luke is pulling on some boxers and a huge shirt. “Let’s go watch Mean Girls!” He announces, picking you up and carrying you into the kitchen, where you two pop popcorn into the microwave and search for the DVD. “Found it!” You shout, placing the DVD in and watching Luke walk out with the popcorn. You two cuddle as the opening credits dance across the screen, quoting the movie word-for-word. “Weirdo.” “Hey, I’m not the only one who can sit in front of this TV and quote the movie perfectly, babe.” “I love you too, Luke.”

Michael: “Babe, we can’t go out to lunch today.” Michael pouts, because you two had planned to go out to a fancy restaurant and order pizza while wearing nice clothes, some sort of ritual you two had that was stupid but fun. Outside the snow was falling in heavy layers, making lunch out impractical . “Well, let’s watch a movie then.” You tell him, grabbing a sweatshirt. When you two make eye contact, Michael’s smiling like a lunatic as he pulls out a DVD from behind him. “Hey! How did you get that?” You exclaim, pulling the Frozen DVD out of his hand. “Niall gave it to me, they get everything earlier.” He tells you, starting the movie. All while holding hands, you sing along to every song- even the Vuelie. 

A/N: Because I have to write an essay, I obviously finished this first. School? Bah! Anyways, I hope you liked it. I need to watch Les Mis again, okay guys? I’m going into withdrawal but I also have to do a lab and write an essay and do all my other homework. Anyways, I hoped you liked it! Also, our ask box and requests are always open, so come on in! Adios! ~Mallery xx