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HOW TO WRITE A CHARACTER WHO IS IN PAIN

first thing you might want to consider: is the pain mental or physical?

if it’s physical, what type of pain is it causing? — sharp pain, white-hot pain, acute pain, dull ache, throbbing pain, chronic pain, neuropathic pain (typically caused by nerve damage), etc

if it’s mental, what is the reason your character is in pain? — grief, heartbreak, betrayal, anger, hopelessness, fear and anxiety, etc

because your character will react differently to different types of pain

PHYSICAL PAIN

sharp and white-hot pain may cause a character to grit their teeth, scream, moan, twist their body. their skin may appear pale, eyes red-rimmed and sunken with layers of sweat covering their forehead. they may have tears in their eyes (and the tears may feel hot), but they don’t necessarily have to always be crying.

acute pain may be similar to sharp and white-hot pain; acute pain is sudden and urgent and often comes without a warning, so your character may experience a hitched breathing where they suddenly stop what they’re doing and clench their hand at the spot where it hurts with widened eyes and open mouth (like they’re gasping for air).

dull ache and throbbing pain can result in your character wanting to lay down and close their eyes. if it’s a headache, they may ask for the lights to be turned off and they may be less responsive, in the sense that they’d rather not engage in any activity or conversation and they’d rather be left alone. they may make a soft whimper from their throat from time to time, depends on their personality (if they don’t mind others seeing their discomfort, they may whimper. but if your character doesn’t like anyone seeing them in a not-so-strong state, chances are they won’t make any sound, they might even pretend like they’re fine by continuing with their normal routine, and they may or may not end up throwing up or fainting).

if your character experience chronic pain, their pain will not go away (unlike any other illnesses or injuries where the pain stops after the person is healed) so they can feel all these types of sharp pain shooting through their body. there can also be soreness and stiffness around some specific spots, and it will affect their life. so your character will be lucky if they have caretakers in their life. but are they stubborn? do they accept help from others or do they like to pretend like they’re fine in front of everybody until their body can’t take it anymore and so they can no longer pretend?

neuropathic pain or nerve pain will have your character feeling these senses of burning, shooting and stabbing sensation, and the pain can come very suddenly and without any warning — think of it as an electric shock that causes through your character’s body all of a sudden. your character may yelp or gasp in shock, how they react may vary depends on the severity of the pain and how long it lasts.

EMOTIONAL PAIN

grief can make your character shut themself off from their friends and the world in general. or they can also lash out at anyone who tries to comfort them. (five states of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and eventual acceptance.)

heartbreak — your character might want to lock themself in a room, anywhere where they are unseen. or they may want to pretend that everything’s fine, that they’re not hurt. until they break down.

betrayal can leave a character with confusion, the feelings of ‘what went wrong?’, so it’s understandable if your character blames themself at first, that maybe it’s their fault because they’ve somehow done something wrong somewhere that caused the other character to betray them. what comes after confusion may be anger. your character can be angry at the person who betrayed them and at themself, after they think they’ve done something wrong that resulted in them being betrayed, they may also be angry at themself next for ‘falling’ for the lies and for ‘being fooled’. so yes, betrayal can leave your character with the hatred that’s directed towards the character who betrayed them and themself. whether or not your character can ‘move on and forgive’ is up to you.

there are several ways a character can react to anger; they can simply lash out, break things, scream and yell, or they can also go complete silent. no shouting, no thrashing the place. they can sit alone in silence and they may cry. anger does make people cry. it mostly won’t be anything like ‘ugly sobbing’ but your character’s eyes can be bloodshot, red-rimmed and there will be tears, only that there won’t be any sobbing in most cases.

hopelessness can be a very valid reason for it, if you want your character to do something reckless or stupid. most people will do anything if they’re desperate enough. so if you want your character to run into a burning building, jump in front of a bullet, or confess their love to their archenemy in front of all their friends, hopelessness is always a valid reason. there’s no ‘out of character’ if they are hopeless and are desperate enough.

fear and anxiety. your character may be trembling, their hands may be shaky. they may lose their appetite. they may be sweaty and/or bouncing their feet. they may have a panic attack if it’s severe enough.

and I think that’s it for now! feel free to add anything I may have forgotten to mention here!

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turning positive traits negative

This is the go-to for development in my book, because if your character has a personality trait, congrats! You’re half way there!

—Confidence:

Can lead to selfishness, over abundance of pride, stubbornness and unwilling to admit wrong doings/beliefs/actions.

—Extroversion

Unable to understand proper boundaries that others have set, tries to bring people out of their comfort zone even when unnecessary, rude.

—Intelligence

One of those nerds that every class has that reminds the teacher of the homework, looks down on those less intelligent and doesn’t care of the social/economical/personal reasons as to why they don’t share the same intellect, prideful.

—Kindness

Nativity, allows the wrong people to walk free, toxic positivity, doesn’t want to understand how some people may just be evil, leading the team into multiple dangerous, avoidable situations.

—Romantic

‘Doesn’t take no for an answer’, makes people uncomfortable, overwhelms people with fantasies of romantic dinners/adventures despite it still being the first date, moves too fast for their love interest.

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words to use instead of ______

"Very"

Mild: clearly, decidedly, distinctly, markedly, considerably, notably, largely, recognizably, especially, indubitably Moderate: especially, surprisingly, substantially, uncommonly, chiefly, incredibly, obviously, unmistakably, considerably, awfully, wonderfully, particularly Bold: profusely, unequivocally, strikingly, astonishingly, exceedingly, absolutely, exceptionally, extremely, unquestionably, vastly, incontestably

"A Lot" (time)

Mild: often, oftentimes, sometime Moderate: frequently, usually, various, generally Bold: regularly, recurrent, persistent

"A Lot" (size)

Mild: many, much, several Moderate: numerous, bountiful, considerable Bold: multitude, profuse, vast

"Big"

Mild: sizable, ample, large, considerable, great, above average, important Moderate: ponderous, significant, crucial, vast, copious, magnificent, substantial Bold: enormous, immense, colossal, extensive, endless, paramount, boundless, prodigious, imposing, gigantic, voluminous, limitless, essential

"Small"

Mild: slight, limited, trivial, minor, light, puny, superficial, undersized, dinky, negligible, faint Moderate: scant, petite, inconsiderable, microscopic, dwarf, unsubstantial, minimum, miniature, tiny Bold: insignificant, minute, meager, infinitesimal, ineffectual, undetectable, inconsequential

"Good"

Mild: acceptable, favorable, agreeable, pleasing, satisfactory, satisfying, super, able, relevant, accomplished, efficient, reliable, ample, useful, profitable, adequate, adept Moderate: great, honorable, admirable, commendable, sound, splendid, superb, valuable, wonderful, worthy, clever, proficient, qualified, apt, skillful, thorough, wholesome Bold: excellent, exceptional, gratifying, marvelous, reputable, stupendous, superior, exemplary, virtuous, expert, solid, advantageous, flawless, extensive, perfect

"Bad"

Mild: cheap, dissatisfactory, faculty, off, mean, wrong, unpleasant, unwell, low, grim, sour, regretful Moderate: careless, defective, inferior, imperfect, deficient, rough, ill-suited, inadequate, unsatisfactory, delinquent, sinful, unruly, wicked, rancid, grave, harsh, terrible, downcast Bold: awful, unacceptable, corrupt, dreadful, putrid, erroneous, detrimental, ruinous, vile, villainous, diseased, adverse, evil

more words to use instead other words to use instead even more words to use instead

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10 Ways to Add Sizzle to Your Boring Writing

Writing that sizzles captures the reader's attention and keeps them engaged from start to finish. Whether you're an experienced writer or just starting out, there are several techniques you can use to make your writing more exciting and dynamic. Here are ten detailed ways to add sizzle to your boring writing:

1. Use Vivid Descriptions

Vivid descriptions bring your writing to life by creating a rich, immersive experience for the reader. Instead of relying on generic or bland language, use specific details that appeal to the senses. Describe how things look, sound, smell, taste, and feel to paint a vivid picture.

In Detail:

Visual Descriptions: Use color, shape, and size to create a mental image. Instead of saying "The car was old," say "The rusty, olive-green car wheezed as it pulled into the driveway."

Sound Descriptions: Incorporate onomatopoeia and detailed sound descriptions. Instead of "The music was loud," say "The bass thumped, and the high notes pierced through the night air."

Smell and Taste Descriptions: Use sensory language. Instead of "The food was good," say "The aroma of roasted garlic and herbs filled the room, and the first bite was a burst of savory flavors."

2. Show, Don't Tell

"Show, don't tell" is a fundamental writing principle that means revealing information through actions, thoughts, dialogue, and sensory details rather than straightforward exposition. This approach makes your writing more engaging and allows readers to experience the story.

In Detail:

Actions Over Exposition: Instead of telling the reader "Jane was scared," show her fear through her actions: "Jane's hands trembled as she fumbled with the lock, her breath coming in shallow gasps."

Dialogue: Use conversations to reveal character traits and emotions. Instead of "John was angry," show his anger through his words and tone: "John's voice was a low growl as he said, 'I can't believe you did this.'"

Internal Thoughts: Reveal characters' inner worlds. Instead of "Emma felt relieved," show her relief: "Emma let out a long breath she didn't realize she was holding and sank into the chair, a smile tugging at her lips."

3. Create Relatable Characters

Relatable characters are crucial for keeping readers invested in your story. Characters should have depth, including strengths, weaknesses, desires, and fears. When readers see aspects of themselves in your characters, they're more likely to care about their journeys.

In Detail:

Character Flaws: Give your characters realistic flaws. A perfect character can be boring and unrelatable. Show how these flaws impact their decisions and relationships.

Character Arcs: Ensure your characters grow and change throughout the story. A well-crafted character arc can turn a good story into a great one.

Background and Motivations: Provide backstories and motivations. Why does your character act the way they do? What drives them? This adds depth and makes them more three-dimensional.

4. Add Dialogue

Dialogue can break up large blocks of text and make your writing more dynamic. It reveals character, advances the plot, and provides opportunities for conflict and resolution. Ensure your dialogue sounds natural and serves a purpose.

In Detail:

Natural Speech: Write dialogue that sounds like real conversation, complete with interruptions, pauses, and colloquial language. Avoid overly formal or stilted speech.

Purposeful Dialogue: Every line of dialogue should have a purpose, whether it's revealing character, advancing the plot, or building tension. Avoid filler conversations that don't add to the story.

Subtext: Use subtext to add depth. Characters might say one thing but mean another, revealing their true feelings through what they don't say directly.

5. Use Strong Verbs

Strong verbs make your writing more vivid and energetic. They convey action and emotion effectively, making your sentences more powerful and engaging.

In Detail:

Action Verbs: Choose verbs that show precise actions. Instead of "She went to the store," say "She dashed to the store."

Avoid Weak Verbs: Replace weak verbs and verb phrases with stronger alternatives. Instead of "He was walking," say "He strode."

Emotionally Charged Verbs: Use verbs that convey specific emotions. Instead of "She was sad," say "She wept."

6. Vary Sentence Structure

Varying sentence structure keeps your writing interesting and prevents it from becoming monotonous. Mix short, punchy sentences with longer, more complex ones to create a rhythm that engages readers.

In Detail:

Short Sentences for Impact: Use short sentences to create tension, urgency, or emphasize a point. "He stopped. Listened. Nothing."

Complex Sentences for Detail: Use longer sentences to provide detailed descriptions or explain complex ideas. "As the sun set behind the mountains, the sky transformed into a canvas of oranges, pinks, and purples, casting a warm glow over the serene landscape."

Combine Different Structures: Mix simple, compound, and complex sentences to maintain a natural flow. Avoid repetitive patterns that can make your writing feel flat.

7. Introduce Conflict

Conflict is the driving force of any story. It creates tension and keeps readers invested in the outcome. Without conflict, your story can become stagnant and uninteresting.

In Detail:

Internal Conflict: Characters should struggle with internal dilemmas, fears, and desires. This adds depth and relatability.

External Conflict: Introduce obstacles and challenges that characters must overcome. This can be other characters, societal pressures, or natural forces.

Resolution: Show how conflicts are resolved, leading to character growth and plot progression. Ensure resolutions feel earned and satisfying.

8. Use Metaphors and Similes

Metaphors and similes add creativity and depth to your writing. They help readers understand complex ideas and emotions by comparing them to familiar experiences.

In Detail:

Metaphors: Directly state that one thing is another to highlight similarities. "Time is a thief."

Similes: Use "like" or "as" to make comparisons. "Her smile was like sunshine on a rainy day."

Avoid Clichés: Create original comparisons rather than relying on overused phrases. Instead of "busy as a bee," find a fresh analogy.

9. Create Suspense

Suspense keeps readers on the edge of their seats, eager to find out what happens next. Use foreshadowing, cliffhangers, and unanswered questions to build tension and anticipation.

In Detail:

Foreshadowing: Drop subtle hints about future events. This creates anticipation and a sense of inevitability.

Cliffhangers: End chapters or sections with unresolved tension or unanswered questions to compel readers to keep going.

Pacing: Control the pace of your story to build suspense. Slow down for crucial moments and speed up during action scenes.

10. Edit Ruthlessly

Great writing often emerges during the editing process. Be willing to cut unnecessary words, tighten your prose, and refine your sentences. Editing improves clarity, pace, and overall readability.

In Detail:

Cut Redundancies: Remove unnecessary words and repetitive phrases. "In my opinion, I think" can be reduced to "I think."

Focus on Clarity: Ensure each sentence conveys its intended meaning clearly and concisely.

Proofread: Check for grammar, punctuation, and spelling errors. A polished manuscript reflects professionalism and attention to detail.

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Don’t mind me. Just cleaning your dash

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words to use instead of ________

"Mad"

aggravated, angry, annoyed, boiling, cross, enraged, exasperated, fuming, furious, heated, incensed, indignant, irate, irritable, livid, offended, outraged, riled, steamed, storming, upset

"Nice"

amiable, charming, cordial, courteous, delightful, favorable, friendly, genial, gentle, gracious, helpful. inviting, kind, lovely, obliging, peaceful, peachy, pleasant, polite, swell, sympathetic, tender, welcoming, well-mannered, winning

"Pretty"

alluring, appealing, attractive, beautiful, charming, cute, delightful, desirable, elegant, eye-catching, fair, fascinating, gorgeous, graceful, intriguing, lovely, pleasing, striking, stunning, sweet

"Said"

alleged, argued, asked, asserted, babbled, bellowed, bragged, commented, complained, cried, declined, demanded, denied, encouraged, expressed, giggled, growled, inquired, moaned, nagged, rebuked, rebutted, replied, rejected, retorted, roared, scolded, shrieked, shrugged, stated, taunted, vowed, warned, whined, whispered, yelled

"Went"

avoid, bolt, bound, depart, exit, escape, flee, fly, hike, hop, jaunt, jolt, journey, leap, leave, lurch, march, mosey, move, pace, parade, pass, progress, retreat, saunter, scoot, skip, split, step, stride, stroll, tour, travel, vanish

more words to use instead other words to use instead another list of words to use instead

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someone in my film class just said “the last person to wear those pants are in a urn” and I’m begging someone to write a newsies one shot based around it

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come with me- Crutchie

(Note: I know, I’ve already written like three oneshots that are just letters from Crutchie, but I absolutely adore his character and letters are one of the best forms of expression in my opinion- it’s just something about someone’s heart poured out onto a page that inspires me. This is in a world where Jack moved to Santa Fe after the strike, leaving Crutchie and the others behind. Enjoy!)

    Dear Jack,

    It’s been a while hasn’t it? Almost ten years now, if I remember right… damn, it’s almost surreal to think of all the time that’s passed since I last saw your face. We miss you, all of us do, Racer and Dave and hell, even Spot Conlon. Santa Fe’s a long way away.

    I guess you really had to go away, though. It was a long time coming, I’m sure- you’ve been dreaming of the plains and desert of New Mexico since we were ten. Right now, I’d guess that you’re settled somewhere outside, sketching the landscape with a broken charcoal pencil and a scrap of stolen paper as the world flies by you, your heart full of happiness and relief. 

    No more talking about that, though. I need to ask you something, something that’s been eating at me since the moment we said our goodbyes. I’m sitting in Miss Medda’s theater, where you used to paint sets for her, because I can’t keep wondering any longer. 

    Do you miss us?

    Do you miss the days when you were free, when all the responsibility you had was to survive until your next meal? Do you miss the fights, the jokes, the laughter and the tears, all experienced under the roof that nurtured the man you are today? Do you miss us newsies and everything we went through together? 

    What about Katherine?  Do you think of her often, that girl with the fiery red hair and a way with words that would make Shakespeare tear up with awe? Do you miss the days you spent reminiscing about that first kiss up on the rooftop, the fit of passion and anger that made you fall in love for the very first time?

    Davey- that beautiful boy, shaking like a leaf when you first met him, growing into the bravest and most dedicated leader Manhattan had ever seen- do you still love him? He never moved on after you, Jack. He’s got a job with the Journal, editing articles and making enough to support his family now. He’s got enough money to have a nice house in the suburbs, a wife, and a litter of youngins, but I think he’s holding onto the hope that you’ll come back.

    We all are, if I’m honest. It’s been different around here without you.

    You’d be proud, if only you were here to see how well we’ve done. Race made it big betting at the races and now he and Spot have got this little business opened together, living off of the winnings plus the profits. Specs has got himself a job working on a steamboat and now he’s seeing the world, and JoJo’s a pastor now, preaching every Sunday. You wouldn’t hardly recognize us, I don’t think- we’ve all grown so much, so far past the scared little kids we used to be.

    Sometimes I wonder if you ever changed that much.

    I have to go now. If you ever get this letter, please respond. I’d love to know that you’re okay, that Santa Fe was just as beautiful as you thought it would be, that you’ve got a lass and a good sum of cash in your pocket. If you haven’t already forgotten us, please write back. I miss you.

    Your brother,

    Crutchie

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some incoherent Jack Kelly thoughts I had at 10pm

Sometimes, late at night, when the air on the rooftop is cold but somehow still stifling and the moon provides the only light in New York, Jack thinks about Santa Fe.

    The same thoughts that used to plague his consciousness are scarce now, dreams of a life where food was abundant and he’ll never have to touch a newspaper again tucked away where they cannot bother him. Of course, the longing stays- nothing hidden remains that way for long- but Jack has made up his mind that he must continue to live in New York, if only for the people he’d be leaving behind if he left.

    Still, this does not keep thoughts of freedom at bay. They creep up on him, as lithe and quick as a gazelle yet as predatory as the lion chasing it, and Jack oftentimes finds himself whisked away to the land he’d always dreamed of living in, those rolling fields and long summer days stretching out endlessly before him.

    It’s never harmful to dream, so Jack lets his thoughts run wild, the same daydreams calming his senses and dulling the world around him as visions of lush green leaves and the fruitful expanse of the Rio Grande as colorful as the paints he uses to illustrate them. It’s so real, so wonderful, that Jack has to remind himself that he now loves the life he leads, and he couldn’t stand to hurt those he loves by leaving.

    Maybe Santa Fe doesn’t feel like his only option anymore, but sometimes it sure is all-consuming.

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Seabirds- Ralbert

This was originally written on Quotev as a request from someone, using one of their OCs x Race. I’ve changed it to be ralbert, as their OC isn’t mine and we kinda fell out of touch for reasons, so enjoy this cute little Ralbert fic!

    “Al, would you look at this?”

    Albert heard the awe in Race’s voice as he stared over the edge of the bridge, and he glanced over to see what his boyfriend was looking at. Their walk was supposed to be a short trip across the bridge, to Brooklyn and back to make sure Spot Conlon was still tolerant of the union, but the cool evening had set in and the sunset had caught Race’s attention. Albert loved that about him- how he always stopped to appreciate beautiful things. 

    Glancing over the railing, he could just barely see the sun, rays of light coating the world in an almost surreal shade of orange as it disappeared over the horizon. Race’s eyes sparkled with amazement, and he wrapped an arm around Albert as the redhead came to stand beside him. Despite the chilly air of the night as evening set in, Albert’s heart warmed his arms and legs as Race squeezed his shoulders.

    “It’s wonderful,” Albert agreed after a moment, whispering so as to not break the magic of the moment. Race hugged him close, and for a while it was just the two of them, basking in the fading light of the sun. Somewhere in the distance, Albert heard a squawk and smiled as his eyes caught two seagulls flying side-by-side. They weren’t with any other birds, the expanse of the river their only companion other than each other. It seemed some sort of a beautiful symbolism- maybe those birds didn’t need anyone other than themselves. Now, he didn’t know where they were going, most probably south for the winter, but he found himself wishing he was going with them. Far, far away, where the stress of life couldn’t find where he was.

    Briefly, he wondered if Race ever would be willing to leave with him.

    “I wonder where those two birds are going,” Race commented absentmindedly, and it was as if he’d read Albert’s mind. Albert chuckled softly, shrugging.

    “Me too.” Turning to face him, he planted a kiss on Race’s freckled cheek. “Who knows? They could be lovers, heading off to a new life together.” Smiling, he continued to speak, slowly getting lost in his own thoughts as he voiced them aloud. “Far away from the hustle and bustle of New York, where they can rest in peace and spend their bird-lives together.”

    Race raised an eyebrow. “You’ve sure thought about this a lot, huh?” He nudged Albert with his elbow, grinning at him teasingly. “Is that why you’ve been so quiet?”

    Albert blushed slightly, elbowing Race back and laughing. “I guess so.” He looked back out at the river. “I think it’s kind of a metaphor, you know?”

    Race nodded beside him, humming in response. “I think I get it,” he said after a moment, his voice slightly wistful.

    “Do you ever think we could do something like that? Run away together, I mean.” Albert glanced up at him, his heart rate suddenly picking up as the weight of the question hung between them. Race paused for a second, and Albert genuinely thought he’d messed up.

    He’d already begun to open his mouth and formulate an apology when Race smiled. “I’d want nothing more, mio amato.”

    Albert leaned his head against Race’s chest, smiling to himself, and Race hugged him close as the final bit of light disappeared, leaving the world shrouded in quiet darkness. Normally, the darkness enveloping them would be something for a man to be afraid of, a symbol of lost hope and danger, but those worries meant nothing to the two boys standing on that bridge together.

    Albert liked to think that he and Race were like those seabirds, flying far away from the night, having only each other and their shadow-like outlines in the sky to let the busy world beneath them know that they were there.

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Blond-Haired and Blue-Eyed

(Note: Okay, so I know I said I would never write any Delancey x any newsie, but the person who requested this was very nice about asking and I consider them a friend, so I made an exception. Oscar has always been a fun character to write, especially since being the character really gave me an insight into his personality, so I hope you enjoy this!)

    Something about blond-haired, blue-eyed boys always irked Oscar Delancey. 

    Maybe it was the loud, annoying personalities that these boys tended to have. Maybe it was the fact that when he was younger, the blond boys always, for some reason or another, gave him a hard time. Or, hell, maybe it was even a sort of jealousy, those cherubic idiots always seeming to possess the right qualities to drive him up the wall.

    Well, whatever the reason was, Oscar couldn’t stand Racetrack Higgins.

    The kid was resourceful as hell and quick on his feet, he had to give it to him- but every moment Oscar was near the kid made him want to punch in the boy’s skull. Not to mention Racetrack’s blatant disrespect for anyone he didn’t like, tossing endless flirtatious jokes and unbearable insults every which way.

    During the strike, Oscar hadn’t been a friend to many of the newsies, which was quite obvious. After all, he’d been paid to subdue them, and he’d be damned if he disobeyed orders. But despite his and Morris’s best efforts, the newsies pulled through, and Oscar had found himself stewing in failure for around two weeks now, enduring countless taunts and pranks from the victorious (and now, cocky) kids that couldn’t seem to understand the words “leave it be”.

    It wasn’t much worse than normal, save for the sting of losing to the idiots that he sold stacks of newspapers to, and for a while Oscar simply coasted through the days, waiting for the solace of a day off.

    And so, of course, a blond-haired and blue-eyed boy had to ruin it.

    It was Race’s fault, really. The other boy had mouthed off one too many times, and it was natural that he deserved a good beating- though Oscar hadn’t quite expected him to fight back. He’d sort of underestimated the strength of the half-starved street rat, and the fight hadn’t ended so well, with Oscar heading home sporting a nasty bruise on his eye and a bloodied nose, along with a single thought running through his mind.

    I’m going to kill him.

    Sadly, he wouldn’t see the idiot again until the next morning. The newsies had lined up, yawning, to buy their papers and Race had sauntered up with a smug grin, slapping a few coins into Oscar’s hand and chuckling at the sight of his still-healing face. “Rough night, Delancey?” he teased, and Oscar tried to keep his face from burning red as a laugh went through the newsies’ ranks.

    “Move along,” Oscar ordered, waving his hand dismissively. “You’re holdin’ up the line.”

    Race gave him a wink and skipped off, leaving Oscar fuming and wishing he had his brass knuckles with him. Moving through the rest of the line quickly, Oscar sighed as he and Morris prepared the cart for the next edition, lighting a cigarette and sighing as the smoke filled the air.

    “That Higgins sure is an annoyance,” Morris commented, and Oscar nodded.

    “Tell me about it.” Oscar took a drag from the cigarette. “God, I wish he’d get run over by one of those racehorses he won’t shut up about.”

    Raising an eyebrow, his brother lifted another stack of newspapers onto the wagon. “What’s your problem?” Morris asked, chuckling as Oscar shot him a glare. 

    “Racetrack Higgins is my problem,” the younger boy spat, rolling his eyes. “He’d better watch himself, or he might find out real quick what happens when you piss off a Delancey.”

    Morris grinned and shook his head. “Yeah, that’s the only reason, I’m sure…” Ignoring Oscar’s sputter of indignation, Morris finished loading the papers and swiped his hands together to rid them of dust. “Go smoke somewhere else,” he chastised his younger brother. “You’ll make the papes turn yellow.”

    Without another word, Oscar turned and stalked away, turning the thought of Morris’ words in his mind. What could he have meant? He despised Racetrack Higgins, that was for sure. He couldn’t stand the sight or even the thought of him. But, as he thought about it, sometimes his pranks were an annoying sort of endearing…

    Whatever. It didn’t matter. Oscar shook his head and put out his cigarette on an old brick wall, dropping it on the sidewalk as his feet crunched the ground where the road turned to gravel, the air of the city calming his mind. 

    Soon enough, it was time for him to return to the wagon, dreading (or awaiting- he still couldn’t quite tell which- the arrival of the most annoying blond-haired, blue-eyed boy he’d ever seen.

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Can’t Run From Love- Sprace

(No trigger warnings- just some fluffy Sprace)

    Racetrack Higgins was good at running.

    He’d always been the fastest out of the Newsies (except for maybe Albert or Jack, but they didn’t count in the grand scheme of things), and he loved to race the others, proving his superiority. But, try as he might, he couldn’t run from this.

    Spot lay curled up at his side, head resting on Race’s chest, eyes closed peacefully as he slept. Race ran his fingers through the shorter boy’s hair, heart running wild. He was in love, and there was no hiding it. Sure, he’d had boys before, but none of them (and Race meant none of them) made him feel like Spot made him feel. It was peculiar, how wonderfully the two complimented each other, Spot’s rough and serious character fitting perfectly with Race’s bubbly personality. It reminded him of the love Romeo gushed about so often, the kind that stops you in your tracks and makes you rethink the world. He was sure rethinking everything now.

    Slowly, making sure not to wake Spot up, Race adjusted so he was laying down beside him, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend and pulling him close. Spot muttered something in his sleep, and Race chuckled as Spot turned in his arms, so Race was now pressed against his back. Spot must’ve heard him laugh, because he lazily opened his eyes as Race pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head.

    “Mornin’ Sean,” Race muttered. 

    “Mornin’,” Spot answered, smiling and closing his eyes again. 

    “If your guys ever find about this, you’re dead,” Race breathed, and Spot nodded slightly.

    “I don’t care,” he answered flippantly, and Race gave him another kiss on his hair. “It’d be worth it.”

    Race hummed in agreement and closed his eyes, breathing in the smell of fresh air coming through the curtains. The two of them fell asleep pressed against each other, warmth and happiness flowing through their veins. 

    Sure, Race couldn’t run from love, but he didn’t need to. Spot would run with him to the edges of the earth.

[bee-writes-stuffs]

Life- Spot Conlon

(Trigger warning for death, violence, and gunshot wounds. Have some more angst!!! :D)

    One more chance.

    That’s what Spot wanted to beg for, what his heart screamed that he needed- just one more chance to make things right, to fix the mess he’d made. The hole in his side burned, worse than anything he’d ever felt, and he pressed a shaking hand to the wound to try and staunch the flow of blood. 

    “Not so tough now, huh?” the boy who shot him taunted, spinning the gun in his hands. “Who knew it’d take so little to bring the oh-so-strong Spot Conlon to his knees…”

    The kid in front of him was Spade, leader of the Queens newsies. Tensions had been building since the strike, loyalties divided, until Spot had embarrassed the younger kid at a meeting of all the borough leaders- for the last time.

    It took all Spot’s power to not try to fight the boy, to forget about the life pouring out of himself and lunge for the gun, but he stayed silent as the boy continued to boast.

    “I should just let ya bleed out here, helpless as you are,” Spade sneered. Spot focused his glare on the fourteen year-old boy, not daring to talk back for fear of his voice breaking with the pain. Keep your attention on staying alive, he reminded himself, though it was getting more difficult to stay conscious. You’ll get out of this.

     Spade shot him a weary glance, as if he’d expected a reaction by then, and anger flared within Spot as he noted how bored the boy looked. He couldn’t walk anymore, the blood loss weakening him until he couldn’t stand, but he spat at him with all the venom he could muster- “Fuck you.”

    Spade laughed cruelly, stepping forward and landing a kick in between Spot’s ribs. He didn’t hesitate to cry out this time, the pain following the sickening crunch almost too much to bear, tears welling in his eyes as he lost his hold on his abdomen, feeling blood spill onto the dirty ground beneath him.

    His eyelids drooped, the world beginning to turn dark around him. No, no, no. Panic filled him as he gasped for breath, wishing and praying that this was all a dream, a horrible nightmare, and he’d wake up in bed, sweating and scared but undoubtedly alive. 

    This wasn’t right. Death wasn’t supposed to be this transparent, this defined- but it like he was looking through crystal clear water at the other side which awaited him. It seemed as if he was watching this scene from above, getting a birds-eye view of his fate. He thought he heard Spade walk away, or maybe he was just imagining things, but pain blinded him to everything but the feeling of his last bit of energy seeping out onto the dirt below, the gravel stained with crimson. 

    The dark finally took over, and Spot felt relief shock his system as the world slipped away. The pain finally subsided, as if the bullet hole in his side had never existed, an eery sense of calm pervading his senses and dulling his mind. 

    And so he laid there, dumped unceremoniously in the alleyway, the disbelief and panic left behind in the empty shell of what he used to be.

[bee-writes-stuffs]

Hello!!!! Love your work :)

If you're still looking for prompts, may I suggest a neurodivergent Davey Jacobs just having a hard day (Maybe overstimulation of something of the like?) and his friends helping him out?

Anyway, I hope you have a wonderful day and know that you are very much appreciated!!! (Also don't forget to drink some water/eat/take care of yourself <3 <3 <3)

You Okay?- David Jacobs

(Note: thank you so much to whoever asked me to write this! I really love writing things that people request, so if you’d like to see me write something, just ask! Also, a quick note- I have never been diagnosed with autism, but I do experience issues with sensory things such as light, touch, and sound. Please let me know if I miswrote anything- I’d be happy to fix any inaccuracies or problems! Enjoy!)

Jack’s eyes searched the crowd, scanning each little group of people for a single face. Everyone was laughing and joking, simply basking in each other’s company- but there was one thing missing.

“Heya, Jack,” Race piped up from behind him, slipping an arm around his and taking the unlit cigar out of his mouth. “Where’s Dave?”

“That’s what I’m tryin’ to find out,” Jack replied, squinting and trying to catch a glimpse of Davey’s familiar form. No luck. “Has anyone seen ‘im?”

“Albert said he left to go somewhere a few minutes ago.” Race unhooked his arm from Jack’s elbow and shrugged. “I just thought he was goin’ to catch some fresh air or something, but he hasn’t come back.”

“Hm.” Jack wiped some sweat from his brow- the July air was sure getting to him. “Which direction did ‘e head off to?”

Race pointed to his left, where a small alcove led to the fire escape. Thanking his friend and setting off to find Davey, Jack felt a small tinge of worry worm its way into his mind. What’s keeping him so long?

As he peeked around the corner, Jack’s eyes landed on some kid huddled near the wall, staring into empty space. The boy’s vest was undone and laying next to him, and his eyes were rimmed with red.

“Dave?” Jack asked timidly, taking a step towards him. “You okay?”

Davey looked up, his eyes widening at the sight of his friend. “Oh, yeah, I… crap, sorry,” he stuttered out, grabbing the article of clothing next to him and ignoring Jack’s awkward smile as he sat down. “What do you need?”

“Just wanted to make sure you’re alright.” Jack tilted his head, and Davey glanced away, refusing to meet his eyes. “Are you?”

“Yeah, yeah. It was just…” Davey paused. “I needed some fresh air.”

“That’s what Racer figured was goin’ on.” Awkward silence filled the air for a short while, and then Jack coughed to clear his throat. “I know you get a bit, I dunno, overwhelmed sometimes- was that what happened?”

Davey took a breath, still not looking Jack in the eye. “Yeah.” He smiled sadly, his fingernail scratching at the dirt beneath them. “It’s always been like this, I guess. It all gets too much- like my brain can’t take anything more or it’ll explode.” He chuckled, but the sound of it wasn’t humorous. “Isn’t that a funny thought?”

“Mhm, sure.” Jack went to tousle Davey’s hair, and then paused. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

Davey’s eyes spelled hesitation, and he chewed on his lip. Jack took this as a no, and he settled for merely smiling at his friend. “Don’t worry about it, Dave,” he smiled. “Just tell me when you need a break, m’kay? I’ll make sure the guys don’t bother you.”

There was a moment’s silence before Davey’s mouth turned up in a small smile, and he nodded. “Thanks, Jackie,” he muttered back, turning to face the wall again. Jack waited half a beat before standing up again, giving a small wave before going back to join the others.

Davey watched him go, and he almost wanted to cry- he’d never expected anyone, especially not a group as rambunctious and loud as the newsies, to understand what he went through. He couldn’t help but smile as he leaned against the wall, his fingers tapping a steady rhythm against his arm, closing his eyes and basking in the warmth of the summer evening.

[bee-writes-stuffs]

I would be DELIGHTED if you wrote about Jack headbutting people afhjkhfs

(Me, a person who does little bonks to show affection)

(Note: Okay, so this isn’t exactly Jack just straight up head-butting people, but I absolutely love the idea of little head-butts to show affection, that’s absolutely adorable, so I present to you some Javid! Enjoy!)

Jack sighed contentedly into Davey’s hair, smiling and tracing his hands in soft circles over his boyfriend’s back. They’d been like this for hours, tucked away in a quiet, warm corner of Medda’s theater, basking in the glow of the candles she’d set up just to give some extra light.

Davey shifted slightly in Jack’s arms, slowly opening his eyes and groggily looking up at him

“Mornin’, Dave,” Jack whispered, planting a small kiss on his forehead. Davey smiled and leaned forward, expecting a kiss, and then…-

Bonk. Jack’s forehead hit his lightly, and Davey jumped at the sudden contact. Jack glanced at him, confused. “You okay?” He asked. Davey nodded his head.

“Uh, yeah,” Davey chuckled, planting a small kiss on Jack’s cheek. “What was that for?”

“What was what for?” Jack frowned slightly. “I didn’t upset ya, did I?”

Davey pulled away a small bit, noting the concern in his boyfriend’s voice. “No, no, of course not!” He said quickly- he knew just how fast Jack could spiral into worry. “I was just a little surprised, that’s all.” He laughed. “I wasn’t expecting to get head-butted.”

“Oh.” Jack smiled again, pulling in Davey again. Bonk. “Whoops.”

Davey beamed back, cuddling close. “Why do you do that?” He asked, fiddling with the fabric of Jack’s sleeve, picking at a lone thread that had decided to come loose.

“I dunno.” He felt Jack shrug. “My mom used to do it- guess I picked it up.” A tinge of sadness mixed with nostalgia crept into his voice, and Davey hugged him a bit tighter.

“Well, it’s adorable,” he commented, and Jack chuckled, his hand threading through Davey’s hair and staying there.

“It ain’t near as adorable as you,” he retorted in a sappy voice that would have put Romeo to shame. Davey punched him lightly on the arm, and Jack responded by pulling them both up to a sitting position and pressing a kiss to his lips. Davey pulled back, beaming at his boyfriend, and Jack leaned in closer.

Bonk.

[bee-writes-stuffs]

for my darling, I love you, and I always will- Katherine x Sarah

(Note: This is an extremely old oneshot of mine that I rewrote- enjoy some Kath x Sarah cuteness!)

    Sarah wasn’t exactly sure why she was crying over her and Katherine’s wedding pictures, but here she was, bawling her eyes out on her bedroom floor after a long day at work. 

    She’d been cleaning out the area under the bed, hoping to find a book that she’d lost seemingly forever ago, when her eye caught a box of photographs carefully labeled “April 24th- Wedding” in Katherine’s looping handwriting. Taking a break from her search, Sarah had begun to sort through the pictures, and now she was sobbing and clutching a few of them in her arms.

    That day had seemed like an amazing dream, from the moment Sarah woke up to the second she saw Katherine walk down the aisle. She could still remember Katherine’s smile, her beauty almost goddess-like as the white dress she wore swirled around her, ethereal and wonderful. The pictures she held were of the ceremony, and she could see the emotion radiating through the room even through the still expressions in the photo.

    Sarah remembered stumbling through her vows, tears of joy- much like the ones she was shedding now- running down her cheeks when Katherine began to speak to her. She had gotten so lucky, been so blessed to have the woman of her dreams by her side, and she felt all the emotions of the day come rushing back to her.

    She heard the door open behind her, and a small gasp as Katherine saw her sitting on the ground. “Sarah, are you okay?” She asked quickly, setting down some papers she’d been carrying and kneeling next to Sarah, placing an arm around her shoulders.

    “I’m alright,” Sarah choked, almost laughing out of sheer embarrassment when Katherine’s eyes landed on the small print-outs she was holding. 

    “Are those… our wedding pictures?” Katherine faltered, her expression worried. “Is something wrong with them?”

    Sarah nestled into her side. “No, not at all,” she began. “It’s just… that was the best day of my life.”

    Katherine sighed in relief and chuckled as she squeezed Sarah close. “Oh, good. I thought something was upsetting you.” She planted a kiss on the brunette’s forehead, smiling. “But just so you know- that was the best day of my life, too.”

    “Remember how much David cried?” Sarah added. “God, you would’ve thought he was at my funeral if not for the fact he kept saying ‘I’m so happy for you’, over and over again.”

    The two sat close together as they basked in the memory of that wonderful day, their faces both flushed with happiness and love. They remembered out loud countless stories from the wedding, pointing out small details in the photos that sent them both into peals of laughter. It could have been hours or even minutes before they made up their minds to clean up the photos and order some takeout for dinner, but in Sarah’s mind it all went by in a flash. Katherine wrapped Sarah in a hug as they put the photographs back, content to be as close to her wife as she could get.

    Later that night, as the two lay curled up in each other’s arms, Sarah planted a light kiss on her wife’s lips, hugging her close. “I love you, Katie,” she whispered. Katherine nestled into her embrace, warm and secure.

    “I love you too, Sarah.”