so proud of the sidewalk

Javid, Davey artist headcanons

[Basically I was thinking what it would be like if Davey was the artist instead of Jack cos I really like that idea and so I birthed this. Ew what a horrible phrase. -Fiona]

- Davey’s definitely more into drawing than painting.

- He doesn’t think much of his talent at first, it’s just a light hobby and he’s “not even that good”.

- So it’s Les that tells Jack he’s an amazing artist and right away Jack wants to see everything Davey’s ever drawn.

- Davey lets him go through his works and Jack is S T U N N E D. He looks at these masterpieces for hours.

- Jack loves Davey’s abilities and encourages him so much
 “What you do, it’s beautiful, Dave! How can you not think these are  beautiful?!”

- Davey gets so much more confident and Jack is just so proud ugh my heart

- Sometimes Davey sits on the sidewalk to draw, Jack likes to sit behind him with  his chin on Dave’s shoulder, watching his hands at work and how concentrated  he looks.

- I can totally imagine Davey leaning against a lamppost, drawing pad in hand,  smiling to himself as he watches and sketches Jack from afar while he sells  papes.

- The first time Davey gives Jack a drawing of him as a gift, Jack shows  everyone and brags so much about how talented his boyfriend is.
 “See how hot he made me look?! I mean it’s not hard but LOOK!”

- Soon some of the other boys are asking Davey to draw them, and they make  the stupidest/best poses ever

- Dave lowkey loves how he’s grown as an artist and how great everyone is to  him about it

I kinda wish to go back to how I used to be before all this sadness clogged up my mind and shit went down like fuck man I’m so done with this

When I think of the person that I’d be if I hadn’t discovered tumblr a few years ago, I remember the person I was, and think about how different I’d be had I not been exposed to all of this.

I’d still have so much hate for myself, my body and my mind, still think I’d never be good enough. Now I’m working towards loving every inch of my body and appreciating what it and my brain can do.

I’d still be slightly uncomfortable with racist and rape jokes, but would probably still laugh along with everyone else and wouldn’t dream of calling anyone out for using slurs, or be able to explain why cunt is sexist and retarded is ablest.

I’d probably think it’s totally fine to wear bindis and native headdresses, and would probably get defensive if someone tried to tell me I was appropriating a people or culture.

I would still be fighting to find my worth in the hearts and wobbly words of drunk boys and cutting my wrists and thinking that being yelled at by men was justified because of my short shorts.

I’d probably still think pussy was synonymous with wimp and that ‘like a girl’ was an acceptable insult. I’d still think my legs were too fat and my stomach too wide, never remembering that it holds some of my most valuable organs.

I’d still be subconsciously squeezing myself into the smallest space to make room for men draping themselves all over the seats on the train and I would never dream of making them walk around me instead of moving out of their way on the sidewalk.

I’m so proud of how far I’ve come and I know that I have so much to owe to tumblr, and the community here.