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thetomorrowshow · 3 years

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unless you take your army back ch. 2

First chapter - Read on AO3!

This chapter is a lot longer than I thought it was that’s my bad

cw: blood, intense depictions of injuries, food, flashbacks

When Crutchie woke, it was with a heaviness in the pit of his stomach. He knew that while he was not waking up from a nightmare, he would be waking into one. Another day either working hard for nothing or locked in a tiny closet, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Something was different, though. For one thing, he wasn’t quite sure where he was. He was on something soft, which couldn’t count as any surface in the Refuge. Not only that, but he didn’t feel squished or anything. There wasn’t anyone else near him, which crossed off the idea that he’d been dragged back to the room full of boys, but there was plenty of room to stretch out, so definitely not in a closet.

Maybe he had died.

As he became more aware of his body, though, he still felt pained--so probably not dead. He used to visit a church when he’d been on the streets by himself, less for concern of his mortal soul and more for the communion wafers and occasional Sunday afternoon luncheons, but he’d listened to what had been taught there. Apparently, if he died and went to Heaven he’d be healed. He had to be going to Heaven, right? He’d been baptized as a baby, after all. He didn’t really believe in it these days, but that didn’t mean he was a bad person.

He would’ve continued wondering about the fate of his soul had he not tried to flex his fingers and found both hands immobile--not because of the pain in them, but because his fingers were all wrapped up. So was his left arm, actually, which was distantly throbbing.

Reluctantly, Crutchie forced his eyes to open, grimacing at how crusty they felt. Light flooded his vision and he closed them almost immediately, then opened them a pinch.

He had no clue where he was. All he could see was a wooden ceiling. How was that supposed to help him?

It smelled sort of familiar, but it was also silent, aside from a bird chirping outside the window--which was right beside him. Actually, as he took a bigger breath (not too big, his chest was all tight and achy), he recognized something small--and then so many things, all in the scent of the air.

This was the lodging house, and with it, the smell of the soap they all used, Race’s cigar, newspapers, coffee, sweat, and that weird cologne that Jack and Romeo sometimes spent a few pennies on. He was home.

Crutchie let out a sigh. He was exhausted. Maybe he could just go back to sleep.

“Crutchie?”

So much for that idea. Crutchie shifted his vision a little, wincing as his neck cramped. Jack was sat there beside him, charcoal pencil frozen where it was poised on a paper. He looked okay, aside from a black eye. He also looked scared, for some reason, almost guilty. What had happened? Why was Crutchie at the lodging house? Why did Jack look like he was hiding something?

Crutchie decided to not bring it up at the moment, but couldn’t stop wondering. He didn’t remember all of what had happened since he’d been awoken the other morning by the Refuge kids with a cup of water, but he had vague recollections of beatings and closets and being trapped under the floor. He could also remember seeing Katherine, but that part might have been a hallucination. More importantly, he couldn’t remember how he’d gotten here and what had made Snyder let him go. If Jack had traded someone--

“How’re ya feeling?” Jack asked, and Crutchie could hear his words dripping with fatigue. He wondered how long he’d been out, that Jack had been sitting at his side for.

Crutchie opened his mouth, lips cracking, and paused at the pain that came when he tried to make his voice work. Something was up--Synder, chokin’ you, his brain reminded him. Also no water, dummy. They does that to a voice.

As if Jack knew what he was thinking, he shot up, the paper falling and pencil rolling away. “Gotcha some water waitin’,” he said, taking a few steps out of Crutchie’s line of sight and returning with a tin cup and a bowl. “Also had one o’ the fellas grab some soup from the sistas, so you can has somethin’ ta eat.” He frowned down at the bowl. “It ain’t too warm now, but it should still taste all right.”

Crutchie had the feeling that he ought to smile in thanks, but just couldn’t. He couldn’t even fathom lifting his cheeks that much--they felt oddly large and heavy. His head was pretty cloudy, anyway. It probably wouldn’t even be able to send the instructions to his mouth. Jack held the cup to his lips and he drank--the water was a bit warm, but far better than nothing--begrudgingly, wishing he could hold it himself.

As soon as all the water was gone, Jack was digging a spoon out of his pocket, preparing to feed him. If he had the energy, Crutchie would’ve sputtered in indignation. He could feed himself, thank you very much! He hadn’t let no one feed him except his mother, and that was too long ago for him to remember (he casually shoved down the image of Harley feeding him bites of sandwich, back at the Refuge).

“I can feeds myself,” he croaked out, feeling just that small movement of his mouth stretch his cheeks farther than normal. They must’ve been pretty swollen. Some of the anxious creases around Jack's eyes smoothed out.

“I know ya can,” Jack said, relief evident in his voice. “Lemme help ya sit up, then.”

Crutchie wanted to sit up himself, but he conceded this to Jack. He had to pick his battles, especially when he was so tired.

He gasped when Jack buried his arm under his back, the lashes and memories of them barraging him with agony. Jack pulled away as if he was the one who had been whipped, watching him warily. Crutchie scrunched his eyes closed, trying to stop a tear that was threatening to slip out. He wasn’t weak. He had to show Jack that he could do this.

“Want--want me to, uh, pull ya up by the arm?” Jack offered, and Crutchie nodded jerkily. That sounded bearable; his right arm wasn’t hurt all that bad.

As soon as Jack touched him, though, fear stole Crutchie’s breath. Images of thugs gripping his wrist and dragging him along on dirty floors filled his mind, and he cowered, pulling his body as close together as he could.

Someone was speaking, and Crutchie was about to ignore it until he realized the price he might pay for not following orders. His eyes shot open, his heart racing with a frenzy that seemed to pound on his broken ribs.

“--okay? Kath said your ribs got beat pretty bad, an’ it might be hard for you ta sit up. You good, Crutch?”

That was Jack. That was Jack speaking, and he wasn’t in the Refuge, he was at the lodging house. He just sat up to eat some soup. He was safe.

No matter how many times Crutchie repeated those words to himself, he couldn’t let go of the dark halls of the Refuge, the stink of the guards’ cigars, the pain that was coming at any moment.

“I’s fine,” he gritted out, forcing himself to meet Jack’s eyes. “Jus’, yeah, little bit o’ pain.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say, so just let it hang in the air between them.

Eventually, Jack helped him form his right hand around the bowl as steady as possible, then stabilized it as he brought it to his lips and drank. It bumped against his cheeks uncomfortably. It was little more than broth, and lukewarm, but Crutchie was grateful for it all the same. The taste of it alone nearly made him sob--the flavor was just so much--but he held it in.

Jack made him drink over half of the bowl before letting him lay back down, which was a much quicker operation than sitting up had been. When he was settled back in the bed, full to bursting and a little more clear on what was happening, he finally asked one of the questions that had been on his mind since he woke.

“Jack? What happened?”

Jack shifted from foot to foot. “With what?”

Crutchie sighed, pulling down his shirt a little to see what was under it. A lot of bandages and some bruises was the answer. “The strike, I s’pose.”

“Right, the strike.” Jack sat down, crossing one leg over the other. “Uh, well, we won.”

Crutchie’s heart leaped. They won? Against Pulitzer, and Wiesel, and the Delanceys, and Snyder, and all the police officers? Once again, he felt that he should smile, but just couldn’t find the energy. “Wow,” he said instead, swallowing around the pain in his throat. They had won. “How’d you get me out?”

There wasn’t an answer from Jack for a long time, and after a moment Crutchie looked over at him. He was looking down, cap in his hands, twisting it around anxiously.

“Governor Roosevelt,” he said, not looking up. His voice was unreadable. “Kath got him ta shut down the Refuge, for good. Ain’t nobody goin’ back there.”

Wow. They really won. How had that even happened? Crutchie couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that there would be no more Snyder chasing kids on the street. There had to be someone, right? Someone else who wanted to hurt kids for the fun of it?

“Y-you awake, buddy?”

Crutchie blinked, realizing his eyes had closed. “Yeah,” he whispered. Jack was watching him again, his eyes red. “Jus’ . . . jus’ tired.” And he was. He felt like if he didn’t sleep soon, he might just fade away. Even now, he wouldn’t be surprised if he slept for a week straight. He was so tired.

“Sleep, nitwit. Ya gots the time.”

Crutchie gladly accepted the invitation.

“Shh! Ya don’t want ‘im wakin’ up, do ya?”

“A little bit, yeah!”

“We wants to see ‘im!”

Crutchie groaned. The voices quieted down for a second with a few hushed gasps and shushes, then started up again when he made no effort to move. This bed was almost unbearably comfortable.

“C’mon, Jack! He’s practic’ly a’ready awake.”

“Yeah, but he ain’t. He’s restin’, he don’t need you lot tirin’ him out.”

“It’s our room too.”

“Yeah! You has to let us in, who put you in charge?”

“. . . You’s all did, Romeo.”

Crutchie snorted through his nose, then opened his eyes. He still felt bone tired, but a little like he could function. He turned his head, slowly this time, to see Jack a few feet away, holding back a good dozen newsies. Once they saw him moving, their faces lit up excitedly. Elmer pointed, hopping a little bit, and Jack looked over his shoulder to meet Crutchie’s eyes.

Immediately, he dropped his defenses and rushed to Crutchie’s side. He produced a tin cup from nowhere--and a different one from earlier?--and pushed it to his lips. “Hey, Crutch. How ya feelin’?”

Crutchie sipped and rolled his eyes, coughing a little when that sent a headache pounding. “Bit better,” he managed through his swollen jaw, pulling away from the drink. “Why’s my arm not workin’?”

Jack’s face flashed guiltily. “‘S broken,” he said, brushing hair out of Crutchie’s face. “Katherine said you’ll be wrapped up in it about three weeks, maybe more.”

Crutchie frowned. How was he supposed to sell? His right arm needed to hold his crutch, so what was supposed to be waving around the papers? His thoughts were interrupted by Jack making him drink some more water.

“I gots more food here, for ya,” Jack began. “Don’t want ya goin’ hungry. And then--”

“Jack?”

Jack went silent instantly, looking so intensely at Crutchie that he started to wonder if Jack thought he was dying. Maybe he was dying. He certainly felt like it. He shook himself. “Can I see the fellas?”

Jack turned around. The newsies, still standing in the middle of the room, waved.

“Yeah, why not,” he said, pulling his hat off and running a hand through his hair. “One at a time, though,” he added when they all began to rush forward. “You’s gonna give him a heart attack, all o’ you’s at once.”, during which Crutchie propped himself up into almost a sitting position. His bad leg was almost completely deadweight, and it hurt like he’d stuck it in a bonfire. Still, he dragged it up a little bit, trying to make room for another boy to sit on the bed. Breathing sitting up made his chest burn and back smart, but he could deal with it for right now. He just wanted to see his friends.

Specs sat down first, smiling in that gentle way of his. “Hey, Crutch,” he said. “Lookin’ a bit worse than last time I seen ya, huh? Feelin’ any better?”

“Jus’ a bit, and okay, I guess,” Crutchie admitted, once again finding smiling to be too much effort. “Jack says we won, I think. How’s it feel?”

Specs sighed happily. “Feels free. Can’t wait to get ya outta bed and into the streets, see how ‘cited the boys are ‘bout sellin’.”

“Me neither,” Crutchie said. Specs nodded, then patted him awkwardly on the knee before standing up. He was almost immediately replaced by Race and Albert, Race falling onto the bed with flourish, Albert standing beside it with his thumbs in his suspenders.

“Feelin’ any better, Crutchie?” Albert asked. Crutchie waved his arm.

“Loads,” he said, trying to not make any sounds as Race jostled him. “Bet I’ll be up sellin’ papes with you’s in no time.”

Albert guffawed; Race smiled a little piteously. “Glad to see that Crutchie spirit,” Race said, poking him in the side. Crutchie couldn’t help a gasp, bit his tongue too late to hide it. The smile completely dropped from both of their faces.

“Hey, uh,” Albert said, quieter than usual, “Race an’ I--we’s been there. Well, not there ‘xactly, but . . . that place. So we knows it’s hard to get better, an’ it takes time.”

They really didn’t know, Crutchie thought to himself as they stepped away. They didn’t have a public connection to Jack Kelly when they were in there, nor did they have a crippled leg. He was sure it was rough for them, but their experiences were not the same, and he didn’t much appreciate them comparing the two.

“Hey Crutchie! Feelin’ any better?” Elmer.

“I’d feel better if people would stop askin’ me that,” Crutchie grumbled. Elmer laughed, his eyes lighting up.

“Les an’ Davey an’ me made you this,” he said, holding something out. He dropped it in Crutchie’s lap, who stiffly picked it up with bandaged fingers and examined it closely. It was a loop of yarns, braided together in blue, green, and brown to make a bracelet.

“You don’t gotta put it on your wrist now,” Elmer said, obviously proud. “But we all made it! You can sees where I started braidin’ after Les, ‘cuz it gets better there.”

Crutchie felt tears pricking at his eyes as he looked, and yep--there was a section where it went from messy to a little less so. “Thanks, Elmer. I’m . . . I’m touched.” he glanced up into his face, seeing it split into a huge smile. “You wanna put it on my wrist? My fingers ain’t workin’ so well.”

Elmer did so with care, not even hopping back when Crutchie flinched at the touch. Then he gave a little bow and a wave, and darted off.

Next up were Romeo and Henry, who awkwardly told him about their day and asked about his. Seeing as how Crutchie had been unconscious for the majority of the day, there wasn’t much conversation to be made on his end. It was nice to hear about what they’d been doing, though. Crutchie could usually see Romeo from his selling spot, and they sometimes sold together.

“Some o’ the regulars is askin’ after you,” Romeo told him with a pat on the shoulder. Crutchie didn’t have the energy to hide his wince. “Told ‘em they oughtta be proud o’ you, you took on the Delanceys and won!”

Crutchie choked. “I ain’t done anything of the sort!” he sputtered. Romeo chuckled.

“I’m a newsie, what can I say?” he shrugged and patted his shoulder again, then wandered off with a bit of a dazed look on his face. Henry gave him a quick goodbye and followed.

Tommy Boy was just saying hello when Jack began to usher them out, saying something about how they needed to go run off their energy somewhere not here. For once, Crutchie was grateful for Jack’s motherhenning. He felt like he was going to shake right out of his body. The newsies were a tactile bunch, and normally Crutchie had no problem with that, but today it made his skin crawl and his brain go bleary. He’d also never been troubled by crowds of any size, but the room was beginning to feel unbearably full and loud.

When he looked up again, everyone but Jack was gone--and Katherine? When had she come in?

Not another person, Crutchie thought, then immediately felt bad. Jack had mentioned her a few times, and he inferred that she was sort of the person who got him out. He could have the civility to talk to her.

“Crutchie, how are you feeling?” Katherine asked, hurrying over. Crutchie bit his tongue to keep from responding rudely.

Katherine looked him over, the smile in her words slowly fading as she took him in. Finally, she met his eyes, and nodded. “Jack was right, you’re looking a lot better than yesterday.”

“Thanks, I think?” Crutchie said, something catching in his sore throat and causing him to cough violently. His chest seized up, his body wracked with agony at the pain that came from the shuddering coughs. When he recovered enough to open his eyes, Jack was holding the cup of water right under his nose.

“Don’ be gettin’ sick on me, Crutchie,” Jack said, sounding more worried than teasing. Crutchie swallowed down the last of the water and coughed one more time.

“I’s gettin’ sick just ta spite you, now,” Crutchie said weakly. Katherine and Jack both laughed, a little wildly, a little wrong. That bothered him, in ways that he couldn’t quite put together. Why didn’t they sound normal?

Something in the smell of the room was starting to make him feel sick. Had he eaten anything since the scraps that one morning? He had, hadn’t he? Jack had given him something earlier. Well, at least he knew there was something in his stomach to be tossed up if it came to that. That had to be easier on his throat than dry heaves.

“Crutchie, you heard that the Refuge has been shut down for good, haven’t you?” asked Katherine, trying to find somewhere to pat him kindly. She settled on the edge of the mattress.

Wait, what?

The Refuge? Shut down--for good? That wasn’t possible, was it? Snyder had a perfect reputation with the city. They’d never shut down a place that worked so well because a few teenage boys told them to.

“It what?” he said out loud, looking between Jack and Katherine, hoping to see some sign of humor. They had to be pulling his leg. Katherine only nodded, though, and Jack gave him a concerned glance.

“I told ya that already,” Jack said. “Remember? This mornin’?”

Crutchie thought back. Maybe? He remembered pieces of their conversation, but it was pretty blurry. He also remembered seeing a lizard crawl up the windowpane. He’d assumed it was a dream, but maybe it had actually happened. That was pretty cool.

“Anyway, I showed Governor Roosevelt some of Jack’s drawings,” Katherine pushed on. “He investigated it immediately, and went personally to shut it down and arrest that awful man!”

“The governor,” Crutchie repeated, dumbfounded. Jack had ridden in the back of his carriage once. Had he met the governor and not even been conscious?

Now that he thought about it, though, he had vague flashes . . . a man with a mustache saying something to someone out of sight . . . the same man holding water for him to drink . . . had he met the governor and let the man baby him?

“The doctor said he doesn’t know what your recovery will look like, but he thinks you’ll make a full one if nothing gets infected,” Katherine told him, and Crutchie was torn from his mortification to incredulation.

“A doctor?” He couldn’t afford a doctor! He didn’t even have enough money saved to miss more than a few days of work, how would he--

“Don’t worry,” Katherine said, waving him off with a little laugh, “Governor Roosevelt handled the cost. You were concerned about it when it happened, too.”

Crutchie made himself relax a little bit. He couldn’t turn down a free handout in his condition, especially not from the governor. The governor.

“And, speaking of. . . .” Katherine trailed off, looking uncomfortable. Jack took her hand and gave her a strained smile. Crutchie looked at the two of them. Were they together?! Why had no one told him?

“I sort of need to change your bandages,” Katherine said apologetically. Crutchie blanched, and she hurried to add, “It’ll be quick! Just clean wrappings--” she waved a bag-- “and some soap and water, then you can rest.”

Yeah, sure, but there was a huge problem. Katherine was a girl. It wasn’t that she was weak for being a girl or anything, but Crutchie really didn’t want to subject a lady to the mess that was his body right now. Or anyone, for that matter. In fact, if they could both just leave the room and give him the bandages and stinging stuff, he’d get it done himself.

When he tried to tell Katherine just that, she snorted. “Crutchie, no offense, but I don’t think you could beat a toddler with pneumonia in a fight right now. There’s no way you could do this yourself, or any way you could stop me or one of the others doing it for you.”

Crutchie’s blood ran cold. He couldn’t stop them. She was right. They could do anything they wanted to him, and he was powerless to do anything. They wouldn’t even need to hold him down.

Crutchie only nodded when she asked him if she could change his bandages, his throat completely dry. Jack watched him for a moment, and Crutchie tried to not look back. He didn’t want Jack to see how petrified he was. After a moment, Jack made up some nonsense excuse about checking on the other boys and left.

Left to get them, probably. Or maybe something to hit him with. Or both. After all, he was a pretty easy target right about now, who wouldn’t want a go? He could barely move, let alone fight back. Crutchie’s stomach turned as an image of Race taking bets on how long he’d be conscious forced itself into his head.

“Can you sit up all the way, Crutchie?” Katherine asked, and he cringed. They were going to make him sit up? Were they going to make him move from this bed, too? It was Jack’s, he’d realized earlier. Jack probably wanted it back.

He pushed himself up, slowly, agonizingly. His head pounded and his back throbbed and his stomach wouldn’t stop sloshing around the water in it, but he sat up anyway, slowly adjusting so that his legs hung off the bed. By the time he was fully sitting up (hunching over like he wanted to made it harder to breathe) Crutchie had broken a light sweat, his hair sticking a little to the back of his neck. Katherine wouldn’t hurt him, right? She was a girl, and she was upper-class. They made other people do that for them.

“I’m going to start with this cut on your cheek, okay? It looks like it’s fine, I just want to make sure it’s clean.”

Crutchie braced himself, closing his eyes. He just wanted to sleep for a little bit longer. Couldn’t it go back to Jack softly giving him water and drawing while he dozed? That was nice. That was safe. Couldn’t they do that for just a little bit longer before they got to all the bad stuff?

Katherine’s touch on his face made him flinch back, but that was all it was. A touch. A piece of wet cloth, rubbed on his cheek. It wasn’t too bad, so far. It was almost a little nice.

“Your forehead’s pretty warm,” he heard her say, distantly. He didn’t respond. It was taking all his effort to stay still and upright.

Crutchie tried to retreat to the back of his mind as he felt Katherine undoing the buttons on his shirt, but he couldn’t get out of here. He was straining his ears to hear something, anything--the boys bounding upstairs, or cheering, or something like that that would give him time to prepare for what was to come.

He was broken out of it, though, when his already aching chest burst into flames. He cried out, opened his eyes--Katherine was holding a red-stained cloth, looking apologetic.

“I’m so sorry,” she murmured, “but one of your cuts is infected. It’s going to hurt a bit. Do you think you can focus on me?”

Crutchie would’ve laughed if he wasn’t busy taking as shallow breaths as possible. He could barely focus on anything. He looked down to see the patchwork of bruises and scrapes that was his chest, and saw that yes, the largest one looked irritated and weepy. That one had been giving him trouble from the first day.

Something touched his hand and he started, then stared down at it. Katherine was holding his hand. Why?

“We can wait until you’re ready,” she said, and Crutchie wasn’t sure that he would ever be ready, but nodded as a go-ahead.

He watched now as Katherine gently and carefully cleaned each wound, calming more with each reassuring squeeze of her hand when the liquid stung. Something about her hand in his was comforting, almost grounding. It was as if his perception had been blurred with panic, and her hand cleared the mist enough that he could ground himself against the contact and the quiet openness of the room. He was alive.

Instead of making him move, Katherine climbed over the bed in a very unladylike manner and dressed the marks on his back. This was worse. With no one to hold onto and no way to see what was happening, Crutchie dug the sore fingers of his right hand into his left upper arm. It gave him a sensation to focus on that wasn’t the painful touches on his back, something that he could control. That helped, a little bit. What didn’t help was the fact that Crutchie couldn’t stop staring at the door, waiting for it to burst open at any minute.

Katherine wrapped his torso and helped him get his shirt back on before moving down to his legs, which made Crutchie even more uncomfortable. He tried to shift away, even told her he could do this part, despite knowing full well that he was about two minutes from passing out. She was a lady, it was improper.

Katherine was sympathetic. “I can go get Jack,” she offered. “Or one of the other boys, if you’re more comfortable with that.”

No. No no no no no no no. Couldn’t they do this for a little while longer first? Just Katherine holding his hand and cleaning his chest. She seemed to see his panic, because she immediately softened.

“How about this,” she said. “I’ll only do from the knees down, and then I’ll turn around while you clean the rest, okay?” Crutchie nodded. That sounded okay. Embarrassing, of course, but so much better than the alternative.

Katherine pulled one of the blankets from where it was tucked in and draped it over his legs. With her steadying him, Crutchie managed to get his pants down to his ankles, then let her take over, his face burning. She was a girl, after all. It felt so wrong, to let her clean his legs.

She made quick work of it though, and handed Crutchie the brown bottle of what seemed to be soapy water and the cloth before turning around. He watched her for a moment, making sure she wasn’t going to peek, then quickly yet haltingly rubbed the cloth along his thighs. There luckily was nothing more than bruises and a single cut there, and he was done in a few minutes. By that point, he could barely hold his head up. Instead of pulling his pants back on, he just fell back against the bed, groaning.

Katherine tucked him back in, resting a hand on his forehead again. “Do you think you have a fever?”

That would make a bit of sense, wouldn’t it? It was the middle of summer, it had to be sweltering out, and here he was under three blankets with the window closed. He was sure he had other symptoms too, but he didn’t really remember, so he just shrugged and closed his eyes.

Katherine sighed, rubbing his fingers. “Crutchie, I need you to stay awake for a few minutes. Jack’s bringing you something to eat.”

Crutchie forced his eyes back open. He didn’t want to be awake. He’d been tired this whole time and now his body felt like it was going to fall apart. As if summoned, though, the door at the other end of the room creaked open, and in came Jack, holding a bowl in one hand and some bread in the other.

“I sent Sniper down ta Jacobi’s,” he said by way of introduction. Crutchie tried to move his arms, but they felt weighed down. He didn’t really want to eat, he wanted to sleep. He really wanted to sleep, actually, so badly that he felt his eyes begin to burn with tears. Why weren’t they letting him sleep?

There was bread in front of him and Crutchie stared at it uncomprehendingly. What was he supposed to do with that? He couldn’t take it, his arms weren’t moving.

He blinked and it had been replaced by a bowl of something, which gradually came closer as he watched. Someone wormed a hand underneath his neck to prop his head up, making him shiver and twitch. He didn’t like that at all, but there was nothing he could do. Maybe now they were going to beat him. At least he’d probably be too out of it to notice.

The bowl pressed against his lips and Crutchie opened his mouth, choking as some of its liquid slipped down his throat. That was far more warm than he’d been expecting, not quite searing his tongue, but coming close to it. It drew back again, then more spilled into his mouth. This time, Crutchie drank, paying no mind to the flavor or temperature. He just hoped they would let him sleep after this.

Sure enough, with a few last drops of broth, the bowl was empty and the hand under his neck pulled away, leaving Crutchie to fall back against the pillow. Before his eyes were even closed, he was pulled into darkness.

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deliciouspeachpirate · 4 years

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Affectionate Newsies Headcanons Part 2

A/N OH MY GOSH I CAN’T BELIVE HOW MUCH THE FIRST ONE BLEW UP I WAS NOT EXPECTING THAT!!!! Thank you all so much for taking the time to read/like/reblog it, and to those of you who left something in the tags or commented, I legit just stared at my screen smiling for the longest time, thank you all so much!! I hope you guys like this one too, and please let me know if you have requests for anything! The next one will include Spot, Specs, and Elmer (as requested by a lovely anon!), and I should have it up by Wednesday. As always, please feel free to request, and let me know what your favorite part was or if you want me to expand on something! Enjoy, and have an awesome day/night!

Race: Race is definitely one of the most affectionate newsies. Like Jack, he is constantly hanging off of someone, playfighting, knocking off caps, etc, though he is typically a bit more rough than Jack. While Jack’s conscious aim is to make sure the boys know he loves them as well as having fun, Race playfights and steals their stuff for the chance to mess with his brothers and annoy the crap out of them. He normally means well of course! He also likes to run up behind someone and lift them off the ground randomly, whether they are in a conversation, trying to sell, Race doesn’t care. Random tickle attacks are also very common, but Race CANNOT take what he dishes out, he will literally collapse on the ground and die. While Race is extremally rambunctious and is always shoving someone around, by the end of a long selling day, he is exhausted and pretty much just wants to cuddle with someone until either they all go to Jacobi’s or he randomly gets all of his energy back and leaps up to go run off some steam by annoying everyone before bed.

The major downside to Race getting all cuddly and cute when he is tired is that that he is also VERY whinny. He typically stumbles into the arms of the closest newsie, buries his face in their chest, and starts whining gibberish at them. While he will and has dragged every single newsie to the couch to cuddle at one point or another, his favorites are Albert and JoJo. JoJo absolutely loves it, and it works out well because he also just wants cuddles at the end of the day, but Albert is mildly annoyed by it. At this point the only thing he does to fight it though is groan a bit before he settles down and just lets Race have his way. Race’s all time favorite cuddle partner is, of course, his very own personal teddy bear, Spot Conlon! Its not common that he can be in Brooklyn, so when he is and the two of them can be alone, they will not stop touching each other for any reason. While he is not the best at comforting someone when they cry, often freaking out over what to say, resorting to humor, and sometimes making it worse, he is one of the littles first choices to go to if they have nightmares. He just holds them and lets them cry until they fall back asleep, sometimes humming gently to them (but don’t tell anyone!) Race loves his friends immensely, but sometimes has a hard time letting them know, so he resorts to annoying them.

Albert: Albert is one of the least affectionate newsies. He grew up with several older brothers (he still helps provide for them and his father) and never really had personal space before, so he treasures it now that he lives at the lodging house. He is fine with someone knocking shoulders with him or a punch to the shoulder, just as long as people aren’t hanging off him all the time. The boys know he doesn’t like to be touched that much, and they respect that most of the time, but sometimes someone will still put their arm over his shoulder without thinking. When that happens, Albert pretty much just lets it slide, but will nudge them off/step away if they don’t get off of him after a minute. He’s fine with Race touching him pretty much whenever though, especially because he knows that Race will respect his boundaries if he ever asks him to stop, even if it is a bit annoying at times! He will often through his arm around Race, but not really anyone else. While people often see Albert as closed off and have a hard time getting past his resting bitch face, he has a huge soft spot for the littles. He makes a point to check in with each of them everyday, often walking around Manhattan to see how their selling is going, if they need help, and to make sure they aren’t getting distracted. Everyday when he is finished selling and goes to the circulation desk to turn in his bag he always waits until each of the littles has made it back until he goes home. He can often be seen walking with a gaggle of littles following him, fighting over who gets to hold his hand or be carried next. He always makes sure that they are eating well enough and has been known to go nearly a week without food in the winter to make sure they all had something for dinner before Jack realized what was going on and stepped in. Albert also helps tuck them in at night, especially when Jack is at the theater late or is extra busy. The most physical affection Albert shows is normally a side hug or clapping someone on the shoulder if they’ve had a rough day, got into a fight, etc. (Crutchie was very surprised to get a full on hug from him when he got back from the Refuge) Albert doesn’t show his love for his friends the same way most of them do. Love and family are very hard concepts for him to grasp, as his brothers never treated him well, his mother left them for a young business man, and his father has been borderline abusive ever since, all while saying they loved each other. The only time he has ever said he loved one of the newsies was when Race got really sick one winter and it didn’t look like he was going to make it. The two of them have never spoken of it since. The most common way Albert shows his love is by noticing small things his friends like such as a certain seat at Jacobi’s, Finch’s favorite birds, or that one sandwich that Elmer likes and trying to clue them in when its available. He tries to be very subtle though and denies it if someone calls him out on it. Another very common thing for him to do is to tell the other boys to take a break if they’ve been selling a long time in the sun, if they are clearly stressed, or obviously sick. Albert saying to take a break is about the closest thing to an “I love you” that you can get.

Romeo: Our favorite hopeless romantic is pretty high on the scale of how affectionate the newsies are, but still not near JoJo and Jack’s level. Its not uncommon at all for him to walk up and give someone a hug, but he normally does it at the end of the day as people are getting back after selling as opposed to any other time. He is often a tired cuddler, but more often than not he is just pouty when he’s tired. One thing that is very common for him to do is to wrap his arms around someone and lean his head on their shoulder as everyone hangs out at Jacobi’s at the end of the day. His all time favorite thing to do is run up and grab someone’s hand while they walk and start swinging their hands inbetween them. The people he does this most often with are Les, Elmer, Crutchie, and Specs. Les and Romeo always end up swinging their hands as hard as they can and have been scolded by Davey several times for almost hurting someone. Elmer normally starts skipping with him, swinging their arms and seeing how fast they can go while keeping their steps in time, both of them sporting the dumbest gins the whole time. Romeo thinks its funny to do it to Crutchie because he is somehow almost always surprised (never opposed to it though). After his initial startled jerk, Crutchie normally just smiles at him, squeezes his hand a few times, and keeps walking. Specs is of course his favorite. Specs always gives him the warmest smile that makes Romeo melt every time and brings their intertwined hands up to place a kiss on the back of Romeo’s hand causing him to squeak and blush. Romeo also likes to hold hands with Jack, but Jack changes it to putting and arm around him while skipping down the sidewalk. One of the main ways Romeo shows affection is by randomly complementing/fliting with the boys. Most of them find it mildly annoying, but put up with him randomly popping up to tell them that their shirt really makes their eyes pop, and wow Finch, you should wear short sleeves more often. His other favorite thing to do is steal people’s hats. If their is a fight going on at the lodging house over a hat, 9 times out of 10 Romeo is the one who started it. He has gotten in trouble with Race a couple of times by stealing his cigars, but he knows Race wouldn’t actually hurt him. He and Race are very close, and Romeo often ends up climbing down from his bunk and slipping into Race’s below him. Ever since Romeo became a newsie he started seeing Race as an older brother, and while they’ve only acknowledge it once or twice during a midnight heart to heart and Race sometimes acts like he hates him by day, the two of them always look out for ad love each other very much.

#newsies #newsies headcanons #affectionate newsies #race higgins #albert dasilva #romeo #hope you all like this!

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sugarbutterbroadway · 4 years

Text

Paint the sky in shades of red and fairytale white

A/n this fic was requested by @violetwolfraven and honestly turned out to be way longer than expected, I still hope you all enjoy and please leave some feedback if you did :)

This was a day to remember. They were all freshly eighteen—well, almost all. Race wouldn’t be turning eighteen until the beginning of November but that couldn’t,wouldn’t and didn’t stop him from doing whatever he wanted, much to the chagrin of Spot. And Jack’s starry eyed eighteen had worn off a while ago, he was due to be nineteen in a month give or take. So it was more the feeling of being eighteen that stayed. Davey’s parents were finally laying off a bit and Medda was a bit more lenient with the curfews and the overnight trips. That led to sleepovers at the Jacobs and random drives into the city, this summer was honestly one to remember. They had their senior trip,their senior prom and they were all proud graduates with college on the brain.

But it was coming to a close. It was the final days of summer, mid August. The scorching sun had gradually shifted for cloudy, mild days and rain. That made Davey especially happy, he loved cloudy days. He loved finally being able to sit outside and enjoy it, he always got a bit cranky because of the heat. And Jack, well he was so head over heels that he loved everything that Davey loved simply because he loved it so passionately. He loved the way Davey sat in the grass,draped in one of his sweaters, looking around at the world like it was finally a place where he belonged. He loved the gentle look his eyes took on that was only reserved for Les and baby animals. He loved seeing Davey smile and well, look his age. Not the class president,not the head of every damn club that didn’t involve a sport—even though he kicked ass at soccer—not as the step in parent who took over when his folks were so tired they were dead on their feet.

No, none of that. He didn’t like seeing David, he liked seeing Davey. Davey whose body was equal parts coffee and water,who mumbled equations in his sleep,who always seemed to kiss a little too rough when he got excited—hell, the Davey whose first instinct was to kiss him when he got excited! The Davey who showed up at his house this morning soaked to the bone asking if he wanted to have a picnic. And Jack laughed, he laughed because who does that? It was pouring non-stop but when Davey got that look in his eye, that little bit of crazy mixed determination, he got what he wanted.

And god did he get what he wanted, and a little more than he bargained for because Race was sitting in the living room and had overheard. Before Jack could say no, Race was already on his feet,stumbling into the hallway to pull on a pair of shoes. And fine, one extra person was fine, Race was usually well behaved. That was until Spot had come waltzing down the stairs,wearing Race’s dance hoodie with a cup of coffee in hand. Then Jack had a new problem, Spot had stayed the night? His mind was reeling, he narrowed his eyes at Race and tried his best to articulate that this is something they would definitely be talking about when they got home. Then he took a step outside,directly into the pouring rain and screamed. A bellowing scream that never seemed to stop and echoed off of the other houses in the neighborhood. Because what the hell? Race, his little brother,his built in best friend was having boys over? In his room? And oh god, was Charlie there—

“Babe”Davey said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. His mind fell still, in the most pathetic way possible, it grew stark still. The only thing he could focus on was that Davey was touching him,and Davey’s other hand was on his cheek, and his face was in Davey’s chest and when he breathed in he just smelled Davey. He smelled like the library he worked at and Dunkin Donuts coffee, the caramel swirl one he’d been raving about. And Davey’s hand was rubbing his back, and his lips were so close to his ear that Jack shuddered when he breathed.

“It’s okay”Davey said, “Race is a big boy now, you gotta let go”

But it was hard to let go, they both knew that. He couldn’t get over the conditioned thought that he was all that Race had, that Race depended on him. He couldn’t get the thoughts of sharing his bed in the orphanage because nightmares used to rack his small helpless body, God Race used to be so small. It was the same with Charlie, and he was a hypocrite. He wants Davey to slow down and take a break, but he couldn’t do the same for himself. He hadn’t realized his knees had gone weak until they were both lowered to the ground. It happened, they both knew it happened sometimes. Jack would get so angry and overwhelmed that his brain would just short circuit, and then in a flash he wouldn’t be able to hold himself up. Sometimes he’d fall, sometimes he’d faint.

But just because it was known, didn’t make it suck any less.

“You’re okay”Davey soothed, pulling him into his lap. “You’re not back at the refuge, it’s August 14th, the year is 2019 and we’re in upstate New York so we’re far far away from that place”

“Synder’s not gonna get Cru-Charlie?”he stammered.

“Snyder has been in jail since Medda adopted you three”Davey said, “No Snyder,no cops,no nothing. You and the boys are all safe here”

“We’re all safe here”He repeated.

“Yeah”Davey hummed, rubbing his arms. “We’re all safe here”

They sat outside huddled in Medda’s driveway until Jack’s brain came floating back to him and he laughed. It startled Davey a bit, but his lip pulled up in a grin.

“What’s so funny?”Davey asked.

“It’s just-”He cut himself off with a snicker, “ ‘m a real train wreck, Davey. We’re both sittin’ out here in Medda’s driveway, ‘m cryin, tell me this isn’t straight out of a teen drama”

“I-”Davey went to protest, but cut himself short.

“Exactly”He snorted, “It’s just funny because it’s so cinematic!”he continued, “The rain hittin the driveway,a handsome boy comforting me, it’s perfect”

“Jack…”Davey said wearily.

“And the script”He said, putting a hand to his chest. “Absolutely genius”

“I-I’m just doing what your therapist said will help”Davey stammered. And Jack’s eyes went starry again because how could anyone get any more perfect. The fact that Davey was even open to going with Jack made his heart beat faster.

“I know”He said, “And you did everything right, baby. Brought me right back to earth. It’s just...you know me and my humor, it makes me feel better. I just found this funny because of how fairytale it seemed…” And Davey, always the one to surprise brought one of Jack’s hands to his lips and kissed it gently. “You deserve fairytale, Jack” another kiss, “I’ll try to be the best prince I can for you”

“You already are the best,”He said.

“Then I'll be the greatest,”Davey said, those hazel eyes filled to the brim with determination and something else.

“Yeah?”He said.

“Yeah”Davey said, pecking his cheek. “Which is why once we get into some dry clothes, we’re gonna have a picnic”

“I ain’t never had a picnic”He said.

“Well there’s a first time for everything”Davey said.

“Yeah”He said, but his smirk was lethal. “That’s exactly what you said the first time you-”

“I can’t hear you over the sound of me walking inside”

A million innuendos later the two finally made it inside. The sound of the door opening once again must have summoned Race because he came sprinting from the kitchen, apron around his waist.

“Jack I-oh”He said, blue eyes wide. “Is this a bad time?”

Davey seemed to be the only one who could read a room because he placed a kiss on Jack’s cheek and mumbled, “I’ll be upstairs babe, you got this”

And thanks a lot Davey, because now Jack had to confront his problems. For the first minute or two him and Race just stared at each other, patiently waiting to see who would snap first. And as usual it was Jack. He sighed and motioned for them to sit on the couch. Once they were both seated, he spilled.

“You’re growing up”Jack blurted out, when Race tilted his head he elaborated. “You’re growing up and it freaked me out a bit, I’m sorry Racer”

“Why?”He asked, he looked uncomfortable, he felt uncomfortable. His knees were pulled up to his chest tucked safely underneath his chin.

“Because I still remember when you was so small”Jack said, a slight catch in his voice. “So small and just..you know. I gotta realize you ain’t that small anymore, that you can take care of yourself. That Ma, will always have your back…”

“Come hell or high water”he finished, he remembered the first time Medda told them that. It always brought a smile to his face. God did he love Medda.

There was a beat of silence.

“Did you…?”He asked.

“Yeah”Jack nodded, “Yeah, I freaked a bit, but it’s not your fault. You’re allowed to grow up, Race. I mean you’re almost eighteen! I can’t keep you on a tight leash your whole life because...because ‘m havin a hard time letting go, it ain’t right”

“So you’re not mad?”He said quietly. “About Spot stayin the night?”

“We still gotta talk about that”Jack said, giving him a look. “But I ain’t mad, just...try not to do shit with Charlie in the house!”

Race’s face went white. “Oh god, Charlie…”

“Yeah, oh god Charlie!”They heard shouted. They looked up the stairs to see Charlie standing over the banister with a grim look on his face. “Keep your antics to yourself, I’m tired!”

“It’s almost noon, Charlie!”Jack called back, “You know Ma don’t like you sleepin in!”

“What mama doesn’t know won’t hurt her!” with that there was a slamming of the door. Jack and Race both looked at each other and sighed. Though it made their hearts a little warm that he still called her Mama.

“This family is dysfunctional”Jack mumbled.

“Tell me about it”

“Where is this magical picnic taking place, Davey mine?”Jack asked, lazily slinging an arm over his boyfriend's shoulder. “We’re walking, you ain’t got no picnic basket and it’s raining”

“For once I agree with Jack”Spot grumbled, he was wearing one of Race’s rain coats but his shoes were soaked.

“Yeah, why didn’t we just take the car?”Race complained, “Both of you idiots can drive!”

“Because”Davey huffed, “It’s closer than you all think, and I don’t know about you but I actually care about the environment”

“You better stop there”Jack teased, “Once you get him goin, he won’t stop”

“Because it’s important,”Davey said, ignoring the blush in his cheeks. “So keep quiet, or so help me God I will turn us all around and go home”

“Fine, mom”Race said, rolling his eyes. “I’ll stop bitching about the fact that my boyfriend is literally shaking-”

“Racetrack-”

“Cause he’s got an iron deficiency-”

“Racetrack-”

“And it’s freezing out here!”Race exclaimed.

There it was, that signature Racetrack temper that would send anyone else running. But Davey wasn’t anyone, his eyes remained neutral and he nodded.

“We’re almost there” is all he said before shifting his gaze forward and lengthening his strides. With little more than a raised brow from Jack, he thought he was in the clear. It was wishful thinking because the minute those two lovebirds inevitably flew off to their own world, Spot was pulling him back. He waited for Jack and Davey to walk ahead a few steps before falling back into a leisurely pace.

“You know I don’t like when you do that”Spot said, his voice was even, unreadable. It made his own stomach twist itself into a pretzel. Race winced and twisted the ring on his pinky, he didn’t know what to say. Spot was right, they have spoken about this before, on two different occasions.

“I’m going to ask you something, and I don’t want you to lie to me,”Spot said.

“Anything,”He said, but his heart was already beating out of his chest.

“Have you been taking your medication?”

Race froze. Not literally as his feet were still moving, but his brain had drawn a blank. Of course Spot would notice a difference, Spot had been there since the beginning. He knew who Race used to be,how angry he got, and he knew what he was like now. His tense shoulders must have been answer enough because Spot sighed. It didn’t even seem intentional, but Race knew what sighs meant.

It meant that Spot was disappointed.

“I’m sorry”he said, he didn’t know what else to say. In a surprising gesture Spot took his hand in his and squeezed tightly. It might have been subtle to anyone else, but it meant the world to Race because Spot hated PDA, any form of it.

“It doesn’t mean i’m gonna leave you or that I don’t love you anymore”Spot said quietly, “We can talk about this later, but just know i’m in it for the long haul. Boyfriend or best friend, i’m yours”

Leave it up to Spot Conlon, a man of few words to be able to make Race melt in a sentence.

“I love you too, Spotty”he said, “Love you so much”

“I love you more,”Spot said easily. Race simply shook his head and squeezed the hand that was shaking in his own.

“Impossible”he said, and he wanted to kiss him. He wanted to sweep Spot off his feet and kiss him right there in the rain, make the whole day a cliche. But he was working on his boundaries, and he was making good progress. Instead he opted to squeeze Spots hand on and off as they continued walking.

“Is it just me or does Davey have an extremely punchable face”he blurted out.

“Racer-”

“I promise I'm not gonna do anything!”He said quickly, “Honest, I like Davey, you know this! He just..he just really looks punchable.”

“You’re...you’re so violent, oh my god!”Spot laughed, it was sudden and loud. Jack and Davey’s heads whipped back and Race was very confused.

“I know I am”He said slowly, “How is this news to anyone?”

“It’s not”Spot continued, “it’s just-god, you say some of the most random shit. I ain’t got a clue what goes on in your brain, but it’s a fucking gold mine!”

“Wait, I wanna laugh too!”Jack whined, “What’s so funny?”

Spot and Race shot each other a look and smirked, “You had to be there”

The group walked for what appeared to be forever but Davey was enjoying every second of it. Sure his parents had laid off a bit now that he was out of high school but they still had expectations, and one of those expectations was to bring Les with him wherever he went. He didn’t have any problems with Les, he was a sweet kid. But he didn’t necessarily want his little brother trailing along when he was trying to be sweet on Jack. And he usually felt guilty. If Les wasn’t with him then he was with Sarah and Katherine, he didn’t want to pin that on them either. But Les was getting older too, which meant the Jacobs finally caved and let him go to summer camp. All summer long, June to August. That’s what dreams were made of. Davey looked into the distance and saw that the little canopy he set up an hour prior was still there. He leaned forward and squinted, making sure the people who were supposed to be watching it were still there too. Race was the first to catch on.

“Is that where we’re going?”He asked.

“It is”Davey grinned. The last thing he was expecting was Race to take off like a shot in the direction of the canopy,hood of his raincoat falling off his head and soaking his curls. He shook his head at the blonde but he was pleased. If it was Racetrack approved, then it would work for everyone. Spot shot him a withering look and without a word started jogging after his boyfriend, barely keeping up. Davey wanted to laugh, he wasn’t called Racetrack for nothing.

“You did this for me, baby?”Jack asked, his eyes soft.

“All for you,”Davey all but melted. And he couldn’t help it! All his life he had been so factual,such a realist, his feet never once left the ground. Davey liked his facts, he didn’t like to wonder,didn’t like what he couldn’t see. So he was hard to befriend. He wasn’t accepted by many of the other kids because he didn’t see the point in playing pretend when they could play with the number blocks right in front of them. Didn’t see the point in coloring the sky red when it was supposed to be blue. That was until a little boy with two front teeth missing and big green eyes came up to him and asked if he wanted to play. Davey had said no, multiple times, but this boy was persistent, said they could play whatever Davey wanted. And that’s how Davey taught Jack how to do multiplication in first grade. Jack had been one of the few to burst his way into Davey’s life. He was the one to show him that the sky could be red sometimes if he used his imagination, that they could be pirates in space even though they didn’t leave the sandbox. But most of all, he didn’t try to change him, and didn’t ask for anything in return but a friend. So how could Davey not melt?

“You’re lookin at me funny”Jack said, with a nervous chuckle. “And we’re here, I mean we’re all just waitin for you to-”

“I love you”Davey blurted out. His heart fell to his ass the minute he said it, but it felt right. Jack’s jaw dropped. No, it didn’t just drop. It unhinged itself completely from his face and flew away. He was gaping.

“I-I’m sorry?”Jack coughed, pounding his chest. “Can you repeat that? Cause it sounded like you said-”

“I love you, Jack Kelly”Davey said firmly. “I love you and I’m in love with you and...and thank you for showing me that the sky can be red”

“I-what are you talkin about Davey?”Jack stammered. Davey grabbed his hand and pulled gently so they could sit down. He was vaguely aware that they had an audience, but they didn’t matter, because all he could see was Jack.

“When we met in the first grade, you were the only one who tried to be my friend”Davey started, “And I pretty much hated you for it, cause I thought you were going to leave. But you were so patient with my know-it-all annoying self and let me teach you multiplication and read those little chapter books because it was what I liked to do, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember,”Jack said, his lips pulled up in a smile. “Junie B. Jones, right?”

“Right”Davey grinned, “You let me sit there and show off all day everyday, but you also taught me how to be creative. I remember getting so mad at you because you were coloring the sky red, and I was ranting about how the sky should be blue because that’s what it looked like and you-”He stifled a laugh “You just looked at me and said ‘who cares? It’s just a color’”

“Very on brand”Race muttered.

Davey ignored him and squeezed Jack’s hand. “No one had ever said anything like that to me before at that point. Every adult just agreed with me and praised me for being ‘so smart’, but you took me down a peg and challenged my thinking. I went home that day thinking about how it was just a color-”

“Wait”Jack said, his eyes wide. “I fucking remember that now! I also remember you colored the sky green in school the next day and-”

“-And I was so excited to show you, and you said-”

“-I said it looks pretty Davey, and I liked it because it was green-”

“-like your eyes”Davey finished, the two were practically nose to nose. “This has been a long time comin, Kelly. I love you because you’re my best friend, and i’m in love with you because you make me want to be better everyday”

“I love you”Jack whispered, bringing a hand up to cup Davey’s cheek. “I love you, Davey. I...this is hard for me, really fucking hard. Kids like me don’t get fairytale”

“No, they don’t”Davey chuckled, blinking away a tear. “But they deserve it, and you deserve it”

“You really are my prince”Jack grinned, “My prince Davey”

Davey brought his own hand up and tapped Jack’s ring finger. “And one day i’ll make you a Prince too. I’m in this for as long as you want me”

“What if I want you forever?”

“Then i’ll stay forever”

“Can you please, kiss already!’Katherine exclaimed, breaking through the veil of privacy. “I mean honestly, we’re all waiting for it!”

Davey laughed and pulled Jack closer, but he dodged the kiss. The green eyed boy turned to face the group and wiped his own tears. “We don’t do that kind of stuff on command or for free!”

Davey shook his head and instead pulled Jack into his lap, he needed to keep his boy close.

As Katherine and Sarah gushed over the speech, Spot and Race sat on their own corner of the picnic blanket grinning like fools.

“How do I feel like a proud parent and he’s not my kid?”Race sniffled, wiping his face with his shirt.

“I don’ know,”Spot said, rubbing his eyes. “It’s them creative writing courses, makin Davey a fuckin poet”

“God, why aren’t we romantic like them?”Race said.

“Because we wouldn’t know how to act”Spot snorted. “I called you babe once and you laughed at me for two hours”

“Because it was funny!”Race defended.

“We were in front of my friends!”

“It’s not my fault you said it!”

“They clowned me about it for weeks!”

“Well maybe we’re just not built for PDA mushy stuff”Race said, crinkling up his nose. “But I still love you, Spotty”

“I love you more, ‘Track”Spot said. “One day i’ll get some balls and do somethin about it”

“Oh Spotty, you’re askin me to marry y-” his cry of joy was cut off by a hand being clamped over his mouth.

“This, this is why we don’t do romance”

Once the excitement died down, Katherine and Sarah had just decided to stay. There was more than enough food to go around, and they both couldn’t stop trying to one up each other with who had more embarrassing memories of the boys. So yes, this was a day to remember. With college-and now love on the brain, it was something that couldn’t be forgotten. Both brothers sat side by side trying to figure out how they had gone from angst ridden lost causes, to romantics with bright and shiny futures just waiting for them. The very nature of it was fairytale, two boys who seemed to have all the odds against them ending up with the partners of their dreams.

So yes, it was fairytale. But everyone deserves a little bit of fairytale, especially the ones who least expect it.

#newsies #broadway #racetrack higgins #jack kelly #newsies broadway #spot conlon #davey newsies #spot newsies #sprace #crutchie newsies #spot conlon x racetrack higgins #jack kelly x david jacobs #just a tad bit angsty

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mwolf0epsilon · 4 years

Note

What are the good points and bad points of each superpower in the Bendy superpower Au?

Joey Drew (Copycat):

Good - Gives him a wider scope of understanding over other's abilities, since he actively experiments with the powers he copies.

Bad - He can overload. Some powers are just too complicated for him to use, and some he can't use properly because they're linked to specific biological functions and neurological pathways.

Henry Stein (Mental Projection):

Good - Can create virtually anything he can come up with. Need a specific item on the fly? Henry's your guy!

Bad - Creating living beings takes a lot of energy and concentration, and abusing this power can lead to the user ripping their own mind to shreds or even dying of a brain aneurysm.

Sammy Lawrence (Relocation):

Good - Can be used to move around quickly. Any small opening will do since his body takes on a liquid form. As a result, Sammy knows where every pipe in the studio leads. He can also take refuge in the walls when he needs a break from everyone.

Bad - Abusing this power can lead to him losing the energy required to keep his form stable, leading to him melting into a puddle of goo, or staying stuck as a humanoid blob creature (think his in-game form).

Jack Fain (Invisibility):

Good - It's ideal for avoiding trouble. No one will bother someone they can't see, which suits Jack's work just fine. He needs the peace to write the lyrics after all, and if he's needed Sammy knows where to find him.

Bad - It's a defense mechanism, so if something is frightening or upsetting to him, Jack can end up stuck in his invisible state. He was once so stressed that he couldn't turn back for a whole week, and was terrified that it might be permanent (further exacerbating the issue).

Susie Campbell (Claw Retraction):

Good - If she's ever in a bad situation, she at least has a way to properly defend herself. Her claws are incredibly sharp and can easily pierce flesh.

Bad - Like Jack's power, Susie's ability is a defense mechanism. Negative emotions and stressors can cause her claws to pop out, so she tends to get them caught on things, or accidentally cutting herself with them. She's scared she might hurt others without meaning to.

Norman Polk (Night vision):

Good - He can walk around without needing a torch, which is ideal for his job really. It also helps with his less savoury hobbies... You really can't tell where Norman might be watching from, unless you accidentally catch his eyes with the light of a flashlight.

Bad - His eyes are sensitive to sudden changes of lighting and require a brief period of adjustment like regular eyes, so bright flashes are extremely painful and can lead to temporary blindness. Flash photography is his worst enemy and thus there are little to no photos of him in existence.

Allison Pendle (Spiritual Perception):

Good - Being able to perceive messages from the dearly departed gives her a slight advantage in certain areas of expertise. It's like getting advice from more experienced people after all, albeit in an unconventional way.

Bad - She's seen some VERY disturbing things from the other side. Things she could never hope to describe and is reluctant to talk about, as it takes its toll on her sanity. Not every spirit is a kind one.

Thomas Connors (Super Strength):

Good - As a person who works with very heavy machinery, Tom has an easier job getting things done when he can carry them around as if they were weightless. It’s also a neat party trick.

Bad - He has to keep his temper in check otherwise he loses control of his strength. This particular power combined with his trust and anger issues make him a potential danger to others, and it's definitely a heavy weight on his shoulder.

Wally Franks (Super Speed):

Good - In theory it could make his job a hell of a lot easier since he's doing simple tasks at a much higher speed. He doesn't use them for anything but fleeing from the consequences of his carelessness however.

Bad - Wally's laziness and tendency to cut corners has given him little to no resilience, so using his power tires him very quickly and messes up his calorie intake. If used too often he becomes absolutely ravenous and prone to stealing others’s food.

Shawn Flynn (Sonic Scream):

Good - Loud ear shattering noises don't bother him whatsoever. The probabilities of him ever going deaf are also zero to none since his eardrums are incredibly resilient out of necessity.

Bad - Besides property damages and medical bills for injuring others' hearing, Shawn has actually shredded his vocal chords from screaming in frustration. Kinda ironic how his eardrums are capable of withstanding his power, but his voice can still get shot from it.

Grant Cohen (Telepathy):

Good - Nothing. He hates this power more than he hates working for Joey Drew, and on the grand scale of things he hates that’s QUITE hight up.

Bad - The migraines, the intrusive thoughts of others, and the stress of his job are enough to drive anyone over the edge. It's only a matter of time before Grant snaps.

Buddy Lewek (Astral Projection):

Good - As the studio's gofer, the ability to project his mind all around makes for pinpointing his objectives quite easy. He's also very good at finding lost items!

Bad - He can get stuck outside of his body, which goes into auto pilot and can be easily manipulated by others considering it lacks a conscience. The idea of his body being used to do criminal things while he watches helplessly is Buddy's worst nightmare.

Bertrum Piedmont (Technopathy):

Good - Being able to control his machines gives him a massive advantage over his competitors. No amusement park has ever had such incredible rides like his!

Bad - Possessing the machines for too long can end up with him fusing with them. Forcing him out is very difficult and the results of fusing with the rides tend to be horrifically disturbing (You thought the head inside the octopus ride was bad? Picture rollercoaster Bertrum...).

Lacie Benton (Enhanced Sight):

Good - Being able to see even the smallest details can be useful for an engineer. She knows what's wrong with a machine just from looking at it, so anything that ends up in her hands often returns improved from its original functionality. She hates incompetence after all!

Bad - Bright lights, darkness, and just the slightest notion that something is off or out of place tends to get to her very fast. Her visual input is too much for her brain to keep up at times, so it fills in the blanks with disastrous effect.

Emma LaMonte (Enhanced Stamina):

Good - Being nearly tireless has boosted her career considerably, causing her to become the top dancer of her era. It's easier to be on top when you can dance circles around the competition for days on end.

Bad - As a teacher she's considered strict and prone to overworking her students, as her stamina keeps her going for longer than an average person can. Her lack of patience also makes her a horror story to be shared among her students.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #BATIM #Superpower Au #Superhero Au

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penmeetspage · 5 years

Text

Folks, I cannot BEGIN to explain how Extremely up my alley An Artificial Night was.

I like how Spike and Cagney and Lacey consistently know things are Wrong before anyone else?

The whole investigating scene, how it narrows from looking around and Detectiving to just focusing on scents. “Mold; old, dry dust. .Ash. Fire. Steel... blood and plastic and fabric softener and finger paint... a distinct tang of candle wax, freshly burned and not quite dry.”

Tybalt stops in the middle of an argument and goes “You’re still wearing my jacket.”

I appreciate that Toby has come round to the very sensible problem-solving method of Go Ask Lily. That is a good solution to many problems.

"What have you done to your hands?” ...”I burned them.” “And how did you do this immensely clever thing to yourself?” “I touched a window.” “Now, explain. When you’re done, I may ask you to explain again, this time using actual words, but we’ll see.”

This is so deliciously ominous. “There are things I may not speak of... This is such a thing. Where children go, why glass burns, how far you can get by the light of a candle--” It‘s so vivid. There is some Fairy Tale Bad Stuff going on and I am delighted.

Gosh, this keeps building, doesn’t it? Two from Katie’s house. Five from Tybalt’s folks. One from a human household. This is like the scene in epidemic movies where they realize it’s not just a couple cases in one place, it’s widespread, it’s A Thing.

Luna’s being real ominous but also being proper fairy tale poetic and I can appreciate that.

“If I say you can save your life and your heart by walking away from this, will it matter?” !!

love the juxtaposition of Toby’s “I didn’t want to go. I’m not a hero; I never have been. I just do what has to be done. But when you get right down to it, isn’t that the definition of a hero?” and then a page and a half later there’s Luna’s “I can’t stop you from trying. Heroes never listen. That’s why they’re heroes.”

“Once you’re on the road, don’t stop, don’t look back.” I’ve mentioned how much I appreciate the good’n’proper fairy tale stuff, right? we’re invoking old rules and I love it. cramming the orphean rescue stuff in right at the start.

(”Never rush anyone who’s personally witnessed continental drift.” !)

I’m kinda delighted how on the one hand I was surprised that the Luidaeg and sisters had had a go at killing Blind Michael, but on the other hand, knowing what we know/have seen of her character (not just her reputation) on some level I was almost not surprised? She’s good people, and she certainly gets hard choices.

ok, and this whole sequence-- “I couldn’t stop him. What makes you think you can?” --”Nothing, I’m probably going to die horribly.” ... “Why bother if you know you’re going to fail?” --”I have to.”

man, these rules are proper fairy tale prohibitions. I love this. You’ll go tonight, and you’ll go alone, and you won’t look back. Because the rules day so... You go alone. You can take any help you find, but you can’t ask for it. You fight with what you have and what you’re given; neither steal nor buy any weapon of any kind. You can take each road once, and only once...

That thing you only see once in a very long while, in just a few very good stories, where you fight kids’ monsters with kids’ weapons? That. I love that. “Blind Michael is a child’s terror. When you’re hunting bogeymen, you look for the nets you need in the stories you’ve forgotten.”

oh oh okay it gets even better: “Children’s games are stronger than you remember once you’ve grown up and left them behind. | They’re always fair, and never kind.” damn.

Wouldn’t want to visit, but what a world to go questing in!

I do like “when there’s nowhere left to run, take refuge in cockiness” as, like, a rule of thumb. a life motto. jack would be proud.

oh snap he has to play fair. He’s a kid’s nightmare and he plays games and he follows the rules and he has to play fair or it doesn’t count!!!

Quentin’s here!!

hi excuse me are those spear things the hunters have basically a game of freeze tag???

I don’t trust Acacia, but I do like her a bit. Insofar as she’s an old old lady in a wood who tests people on quests. And offers help “because you wouldn’t betray my daughter.”

That’s about half the book, right? Let’s call that half, this is getting long.

Part two to come.

#october daye #spoilers: an artificial night #shall after revive and freshly grow

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phantomphangphucker · 5 years

Text

A King For Tonight’s Fentertainment - Chap. 3: The Fright To Defend His Might

Summary: Danny's just done with all of this shit, seeing as Knights, apparently, don't understand secrets

Quite a few people glare, mostly looking pissed off at the agent. That is until the shot gets batted away by a sword as the Fright Knight lands his steed, Nightmare. Agent G falls to the ground as Nightmare bucks and neighs loudly, Fright Knight bellowing, “YOU DARE TO LAY ARMS AGAINST HIS MAJESTY WHILE GIVEN REFUGE WITHIN HIS LANDS. YOUR KIND HARDLY HAVE PLACE AMONGST HIS DEATHLY SUBJECTS AND ARE BEHOLDEN TO EVEN LESS RIGHTS TO REST WITHIN HIS CLOSER DOMINION. I COMMAND YOU, IN NAME OF THE HIGH GHOST KING, TO REMAIN ROOTED AS YOU ARE, UNTIL SUCH A TIME THAT HIS GRACIOUSNESS RETURNS YOU TO YOUR KEEP”.

Nearly everyone gapes at the large ghosts sudden appearance and booming voice. Those who actually took in what he said are confused and only grow more confused as Danny smiles loosely and straight-up punches the ghost in the arm like he’s some old friend.

“Pfft, ones like them don’t have keeps, you stupid old school knight. Would it kill ya to say “home” or “house” or even just “town”?”, Danny pats imaginary dust off his pants before putting a hand on his hip, pointing at the Fright Knight, “and ‘beholden’? are you even using that right? I mean I guess, sorta. Whatever. Anyway, don’t stab him. Traumatising the bastard ain’t gonna do much. Their nightmare fuel faces and nightmare inducingly incapable ghost hunting abilities will not improve by giving them literal nightmares. I think all this already counts as a frightfully bad time anyway. Add in fearsome in shining armour...wait”, Danny snorts and falls on his ass laughing, “oh my Ancients! You literally just played my knight in shining armour! My prince on his steed! Oh man, that is frighteningly cliche!”.

Danny has a feeling the Fright Knight’s face looks equal parts disgusted and judgemental, with twinklings of amusement, “I do not serve you like that, my highness”. That only serves to make Danny lay on his back laughing, while everyone else watches on utterly slack-jawed, “and here I thought I was granted your servitude to its fullest extent”. The Fright Knight lowers his sword and turns sideways to glance at Danny, “my liege, I’m beginning to be of the mind that you ought grant your kin access to your mind”.

Danny springs up from the ground and makes a show of mock offence, hands on his hips, “ouch, now that was a low blow Frightmare. Very ghostly, I approve”. While the Fright Knight grumbles about how his highness never calls anyone by their actual names, Agent L goes to shoot at him but gets kicked in the face by Nightmare. Which seems to be enough to shake the crowd out of their stupor.

Maddie goes up and yanks on Danny’s sleeve, trying to pull him away from the ghosts, “young man what are you doing? That is a ghost”. Maddie puts herself between Danny and the Fright Knight, glaring at the Fright Knight, “and how dare you address my son, ghost!”.

Danny groans, at this point he might as well just say fuck it. Sighing, “yeah fuck it”. Danny forms a ghost portal behind himself, the shock of it opening up is enough for Maddie to loosen her grip; easily allowing for Danny to slip inside it. Popping out a second portal right behind the two GIW agents. Danny punches the bent over agent L in the face, smirking devilishly all the while, “heeeeeere’s Danny!”, before twisting to punch agent G in the face; knocking both fully to the ground, again. Danny flips to land in front of them and bends down, perching on his toes, to look down at the two groaning men, “now see, the point of that was to point out that Amity’s getting its ghostly lair of an ass back to the Human Realm via one motherfucking big portal. Like Ancients, this fucker’s gonna be massive. Oh, and getting to punch you white suit scum”.

“The only scum is ectoentities!”.

“Daniel James Fenton!”.

“What the fuck Danny...”.

“Oh my god, Fenturd has ghost powers!”.

“That’s likely the only option, your excellency”.

Danny chuckles as he straightens up, “indeed, this excellencies idea is most excellent”, then rolling his eyes at everyone else, “it’s just manipulation of the Ghost Zones free-floating ectoplasm, don’t get your knickers in a knot. Anyone with my positio-”. Danny gets cut off by Red, wearing her visor again, shouting and pointing aggressively at the air above his head, “GHOST KING!!!”.

Danny sighs as Red comes stomping over to him, though chuckles as she blatantly intentionally steps on one of the downed agents. Danny rubs his neck, “uh yeah, Mr. Unliving Knightmare over here has pointed that out, like, five times”.

“Six, now seven, my Lord”.

The two agents struggle to get up and scoot away from Danny, while Red comes to stand in his face a bit, “WHAT THE HELL! HOW COULD YOU BE A GHOST KING! YOU'RE NOT EVEN DEAD!”. Danny has to bite his tongue to keep from muttering about being halfway there; the chances of Red overhearing him are too great.

Dash crosses his arms and sneers, “Fentoad couldn’t be a king anyway, he’s too scrawny and pathetic”, earning glares from most of the crowd, no one else even willing to entertain the idea that someone who walks up to guns without a care, was pathetic.

The Fright Knight goes to speak but Danny raises a hand to quiet him, “you don’t need to speak, or more likely bellow, for me. Especially at some Highschool bully who’s bark and bite is closer to puppies than to a Rottweiler”, turning to Dash while Red sputters about him commanding a ghost. Danny sticks out his tongue and pulls down one lower eyelid, “you’ve got too small a brain to lead half a pencil stick, lack the courage to take charge of my dad’s fudge supplies, and have the political capabilities of a squirrel that’s been half-drowned in knock-off cheese whiz”, smirking, “you’re hardly the judge of kings. And you’ve hardly got the place to judge one”.

Danny easily hears someone mutter about how Dash is the most dangerous kid at school, not a freaking Chihuahua. Now Danny’s firmly captured everyone’s attention, based on the disbelieving stares he's getting. Though Danny’s pretty sure the Fright Knight is over the moon over Danny’s little verbal display; a full blood red All Hallows’ eve moon but still.

The Fright Knight nods strongly as he pats Nightmare’s flaming mane, “indeed, I agree with his highnesses judge of character”, the Fright Knight turns to Red, “and you, skilled huntress. Of course, I follow my lieges desires, such is the place of any Dread Knight; and infallibly that of the High Dread Knight. Further, I said The High Ghost King, and while his grand eminence may take preference to referring to himself as simply The Ghost King; “High” is part of the title. To show rank beyond all others, the King of Kings”.

Danny sighs, “add there you go, laying it on thick”, Danny walks back over and leans against the Fright Night, who’s crossed his arms and stands stiff. Danny speaks to Red calmly, “regardless, Mr. Walking suit of armour and a creepy level of insight into everyone’s darkest fears, is right. “a” and “the” have two very different meanings”, glancing up at the Fright Knight, “and “High” is just embellishment. Fucking fanciful, unnecessary, extravagant, arguably pretentious; yada yada”.

Maddie shakes herself off and storms up, yanking Danny away from the Fright Knight yet again, “Daniel! What are you doing! You don’t even have on protective gear and-”.

Danny’s loud groan cuts her off and he can tell the Fright Knight is restraining an exasperated sigh, “mom, holy guacamole, dear gods, sweet Ancients. I’m fine, this is fine, everybody here is fine...well except those two idiot agents”, glaring at the agents, who’ve got their guns out again and stand on shaky legs, “who are about thirteen seconds away from me just straight up jacking their guns. And they will certainly not be getting them back without Jack Fenton’s face on them”. Both men cringe and instantly drop their guns, while Danny turns back to Maddie. Sighing at her, “I’m doing something to deal with the twats who caused this bullshit. And-”.

Danny gets cut off by Mr. Lancer, who’s more interested in the art of words than teenage and family bickering, “you keep mentioning ‘Ancients’, you've said it plenty over the years. Where’d that come from? And king, Daniel? I would expect a king to be far more bold and with vaster knowledge...though you’ve shown to be more bold than previously thought”.

The Fright Knight can’t restrain a scoff, one part annoyed, one part amused, and one part impressed, at how little these humans understood his king; which was largely due to his majesty’s skilful secretiveness. Danny smiles fondly, “dear Ancients, sweet Ancients, oh my Ancients, Ancient blessed, etcetera. They’re Ghost Zone terms, similar to ‘oh my god’ and ‘dear god’”. The Fright Knight nods, “quite so. I, however, am not one for such colloquialisms myself. Though many also make such terms of his most high royalties title and name. For, after all, Realms blessed be those under The High Ghost Kings joyous resplendency”.

“Oh come on! Who did Fentoast pay to pull this crap?!?”, Dash cries out and gestures at Danny.

The Fright Knight speaks at Danny, “I’m starting to see where and how you acquired your eccentric naming of everyone by names not of their own”. Danny coughs and gapes, “okay, that is a genuine insult, I’m nothing like that bleach brain fried twat. I’d get more outta eating sporks and footballs than talking to that”.

Dash doesn’t even get a chance to snap back as Red beats him to it, “first off, ew. Second, there’s no way you’re any kind of ghost royalty. I mean Danny, you’re well, you. You’re Danny. Danny Fenton. Ghost hunter protege”.

Maddie nods, grabbing Danny’s shoulder, “yeah sweetie, Fenton’s hunt ghosts. Not lead, that makes no sense”.

“Oh for the love of- goddamnit”, Danny shakes his head, slightly annoyed, “Hunt? No. Fight? Sure. Insult? Definitely. Lead? Yes. Guide? Yup. Aid? Okay. You get the point, maybe”. Danny tilts his head up at the sky, muttering to himself, “how is any of this solving our green goo sky...”.

Maddie puts her hands on her hips, “you being friendly, none the less aiding, a ghost is more of an issue. We’re protected by the shield so it-”. Danny butts in, “my shield”. Maddie nods, “yes sweetie, which while thanks, it is hard to get. But if it takes longer to get home, to Earth, because we’re sorting out this, then so be it”.

Danny chuckles, science and family did always come before safety with his parents. But there was no problem to be sorted out, and she was still too anti-ghost to really accepted this. However, Danny flicks his gaze between his mom and the Fright Knight, muttering, “though if she’s tolerating my second in command, I guess that’s something”.

Maddie and Red both blink at him, Maddie opening her mouth to speak while glaring at the Fright Knight but gets cut off by agent L. “Ok that’s enough of this crap. You’re either playing some strange joke, kid. Or you’re a damn ghost that looks human”.

Danny facepalms, “oh for fucks sake, Ancients give me strength, Realms power cometh, Zone grant deathly lease. Neither”, Danny smirks and digs into his pocket. Pulling out an 'I can’t believe it’s not a ghost' meme sticker and slaps it on his forehead, “you literally said I can’t be a ghost. Literally impossible. Ghosts need to be in the Ghost Zone. I live in Amity, in the Human Realm. Ghosties can’t do that. And also, fuck y’all”. Danny does a dramatic finger snap, allowing his cape, ring, and crown to blink into visibility.

Unsurprisingly the only human who doesn’t jump is Star, who’s wearing the visor. Star blinks, “why’d everyone jump or whatever?”.

Danny chuckles, “take off the visor”.

“Oh”.

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caterpillar-anon · 6 years

Text

Newsies WW1 Headcanons

Request: Newsies WWI headcannons love? Because I just realised Les would be old enough to go to war and that's a little upsetting 💕😂

A/N: So I’m doing this as if all the newsies are between 18 and early 20s-ish which I know isn’t right for canon, but idk this is just what I was feeling

Warning: This is probably pretty sad This is very sad

so all of our newsies are eligible to fight

and they all want to fight and defend their country

most of them are super passionate about it

so they all enlist

except for poor Crutchie who can’t fight because of his leg

and that really hits him hard

because he really wants to do his part

picture Steve Rogers pre-super soldier in First Avenger

so before the rest of the bunch leaves, they’re constantly trying to cheer Crutchie up

but it only sort of works

they all promise to write as often as they can to Crutchie and Katherine and Medda

Medda is so worried for the boys

Davey, Elmer, and JoJo were the last to enlist

Davey didn’t want to leave Les behind

Elmer has never considered himself a fighter

and JoJo was terrified

the boys mostly ended up in different units

Jack and Race ended up together

Morris Delancey was also in their unit

Albert was alone

but Darcy ended up in his unit too

Mike and Ike were separated

it was heartbreaking for them

Romeo and Specs were together

Elmer joined Finch’s unit late

Davey joined Spot and Oscar Delancey’s unit late

JoJo was alone

Buttons was alone

Henry and Mush were together

Tommy Boy was alone

though he was already in the military when the war started

Mike was the first to return home

he could no longer move his left leg

he joked with Crutchie that they were basically the same now

but he couldn’t laugh away the pain

he was so worried for Ike

Crutchie did his best to teach how to use a crutch

Buttons was the next home

he lost his right arm

he was still in shock

the first one to die was Mush

he was killed in artillery fire

Henry felt like it was his fault

Jack sent letters to Katherine and Crutchie with drawing of what it was like

and cartoons as an attempt to cheer himself up

but on the bright side, Jack and Race were very well-respected in their unit

as good fighters and honorable soldiers

Race even saved Morris’ life

Crutchie eventually received word that Romeo had died

he had a malfunctioning gas mask

Specs lost his best friend

Ike went MIA

Mike was told that he was dead

Tommy Boy died when he was shot in the chest

Albert was sent home nest

paralyzed from the waist down

it was a miracle that he was alive at all

Elmer and Finch’s entire unit was lost in artillery fire

Spot died of disease

and then the war was over

Jack, Race, Specs, Davey, JoJo, and Henry were all coming home

Jack was happy to be returning home, but he was hardened

he was determined to never again support war

his cartoons in the newspaper always depicted anti-war views

Race was somehow affected very little

he has an ability to bounce back

he eventually rejoined the army

and moved up in the ranks

Specs was broken

he watched his best friend die

it took a long time for him to talk again

Davey was so thankful to return home to Les

but was scarred by everything he saw

he wrote a book about his experience

hoping to show that war could never be an answer

JoJo was the most traumatized by his experience

he had nightmares for the rest of his life

he experienced panic attacks almost daily

he wasn’t the same happy go-lucky boy that he was before

Henry went deaf because of the bombs

all he heard was ringing

Cruchie was a godsend to everyone who returned

he was the same happy guy

he wanted to do his best to make the others happy

they were all there for him when he got back from what he thought was hell (the refuge)

so he would be there for them when they came back from what was definitely a worse hell

Bonus: Ike came home a year after the war ended

he somehow survived

Mike was overjoyed

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marissastaxidermy · 7 years

Note

Hi, I've read an article named "hunting myths and facts" when I was searching for arguments for and against hunting, and what do you think about it? It says that baiting deer with human food is dangerous and that wildlife agencies artificially raise deer populations before hunting season.

Hello, I’m glad you asked! Before I get into it I just want to say that I’m grateful you are doing some research, are willing to ask questions, and that we can have this conversation peacefully. I looked up the article that you are referencing and it does make some seemingly good points, but also seems biased and only scratches the surface. For anyone else who would like to read it: link. My partner is going to help me answer this because it is a very multifaceted topic- thus this will be a long post. Please note most of our experience is based on New York state.

Let’s first address the artificial overpopulation argument.The article seems to say that state agencies purposely create habitat that willincrease deer populations for hunting. They mention clear cutting and plantingfood plots.

Clear cuts:

It is true due to colonial clearcuts we have lost much of our old growth stands in America. However, allforests should not be old growth. In a natural setting forests go throughdisturbance (ice, wind, fire, natural inundation, etc), this resets what istypically referred to as forest succession. Some trees like the pitch pine Pinus regida have what’s called aserotinous cone. These serotinous cones are glued shut and can only open torelease seeds once fire has partially burned them. They have adapted thisstrategy as they would be out competed by other trees which are less resistantto fire, so this tree saves its seeds until fire comes through. In the animalworld we have species like the Kirtland’s warbler Setophaga kirtlandii, these birds can only nest in jack pines, Pinus banksiana less than 15 years old.The New England cottontail, Sylvolagustransitionalis is declining more than ever due to a lack of earlysuccession (freshly disturbed sites).

The main problem is disturbance forforests will also disturb humans. We suppress natural disturbances like fire.By encouraging sustainable logging (plant whatever you cut) you can maintainevery stage of forest succession while still providing forest products, jobs,and specialized habitat. For every species I mentioned that needs earlysuccession, there’s an alternate species that requires old growth, or mid stagesuccession.

State agencies boast better deerhunting through clear-cutting because it’s true. It incentives the public bygetting clear-cuts on their side. Clear-cuts improve deer by improving theirhabitat – this is not the same thing as overpopulating deer. The bottom line iswhether it is for deer or not, clear cuts are necessary in a world where humansoccupy and control so much habitat.

Food Plots:

In mostcases food plots are not encouraged by state agencies. However, this does vary fromstate to state. As a former employee of the bureau of wildlife in the NYSdepartment of environmental conservation I want everyone to understand wildlifemanagement is more human management than anything else. When feeding deer wasfirst banned in New York it was such an ingrained practice in the Adirondackregion (I.E region 5 & 6) that not only did the people not stop, but policeofficers in the area refused to enforce the law. Most recently while I wasworking in region 3 we were seeking to eradicate mute swans, Cygnus olor. The mute swan destroysrooted plants, is incredibly aggressive, and without getting into too muchdetail is simply a horrible invasive species which is bad for native waterfowland wetlands. It seems like a no brainer, if we can aim to eliminate theharmful hemlock woolly adelgid, Adelgestsugae why not another destructive invasive species? In short the publicwas so outraged that the state government wanted to kill the “symbol of love”the management plan was rapidly scratched. Just because something makes sensefrom a management perspective does not mean it can be implemented! My salary isnot paid by the tax payers, all management is not aided by nature lovers,hikers, bird watchers, or animal rights groups. My salary is paid by theRobert-Pittman act and hunting licenses. When you buy a gun and a huntinglicense you’re not just helping deer, you’re helping most species. State agenciesopenly want better deer hunting, however overpopulated deer do not generallymake for good hunting.

Would a Wildlife Management agency support hunting?Absolutely. People rarely raise money for biologists any other way. That’s alltrue. Hunting is not an incentive for the biologists who genuinely want to seea more sustainable ecosystem and understand wildlife, but rather the incentivefor the public to support them. What wildlife management units want is toencourage farmers to manage their land in a way that supports and preserveswildlife, instead of just pushing wildlife out and solely favoring ‘game’/deerto hunt. I don’t think wildlife management workers have ever called for addingfood plots to state/federal land and refuges. Even though its public land it istypically illegal for the public to disturb the land by planting anything.Biologists are free to manage it as best for all wildlife and we can see thatfood plots to artificially boost deer populations are not part of the plan.This article is focusing on private land, where a biologists can’t see afragmented and unhealthy habitat and just decide to fix it. They need toconvince the land owner that it will benefit them and most often land ownerswill only cooperate if it supports better hunting (even though it’s reallybenefiting soil, plants, birds, entire ecosystems, etc on top of it). Severalstate agencies even have programs to incentivize agricultural land owners totransform farmland into wetlands (wetland reserves programs) to decrease theeffects of soil erosion and support all native wildlife.

Humans:

Highways,lawns, agriculture, and roads provide more edge habitat than deer can use. Illegalfeeding, or unintentional feeding (ornamental plants or gardens), and wintershelter from homes all cause overpopulation. It has been observed that yardingdeer will often seek the warm of a home as a windbreak above conifer stands.Before hunting regulations the white-tail deer was near extirpated from NewYork. In fact New York did lose the wild turkey, Meleagris gallopavo from the 1850s until it was reintroduced inthe 1950’s. Now because of artificial help they’re doing better than ever, andthey’re doing especially well in communities without hunting. Suburban deer area nightmare in the world of wildlife biology.

Withoutnatural predators and with all the artificial help deer can get, it’s no wonderthey are largely overpopulated in many areas. Most harvestable species arewhat’s called compensatory. State agencies only have hunters kill a proportionof the population that will be eliminated with or without humans. For example,roughly 20% of the mallard population, Anasplatyrhynchos will die every year. USFWS aims for hunters to take around10-11%. No matter if you have a very liberal season or a very conservativeseason, the amount of ducks dead does not change. We could allow the full 20%to die off and lose the economic value (hunting license, gas, coffee, ammo,staying at hotels, camping, etc), but in the case of many species that revenueis critical in protecting them. Humans destroy habitat, pollute ecosystems, andbuild projects right over key habitat. Without that revenue we wouldn’t have aDEC or DNR to clean spills, conduct environmental impact statements, monitorpopulations, or survey for T&E species.

Carrying Capacity

It istrue you cannot have more species alive than the environment can support. Wesee an S shaped curve for the carrying capacity of many rabbits. The populationbooms, then busts. The problem with deer is we support them above the carryingcapacity indirectly. Many areas in Long Island, NY are overrun by deer with nopredators and no hunters. In some urban cases agencies hire trained sharpshooters to come and kill deer in the middle of the night. Eventually, yes youdo see the deer population drop, but it’ll come right back with the problemsassociated. Why allow individuals to die of from disease and starvation when wecould be generating revenue for most other species, wildlife refuges, andbiologists to monitor the ecosystem. When DDT’s were decimating the eaglepopulation in the 1960’s and 70’s Robert-Pitman money generated by hunters surehelped state research scientists like Peter Nye (In NY) to figure out what wascausing the problem and how to fix it.

Inshort, hunting is extremely important. The way humans are you wouldn’t havedeer without regulatory hunting. People would definitely poach illegally and decimatepopulations without regulation (like what happened to the Passenger Pigeon) orunintentionally produce an overpopulation through simply owning a home andgarden. Overpopulations of deer encourage the very factors (disease, stuntedgrowth, early death (i.e smaller antlers)) hunters don’t want to see. If theright amount of people harvest deer, you won’t have population booms and busts,you’ll only have that compensatory portion of the population utilized. Thearticle also says that good genes are weeded out through hunting. The strongaren’t necessarily the ones who survive when it comes to natural deaths, it’s agame of luck. The article argues that only trophy animals are hunted so thepopulation’s genes suffer, but hunting seasons begin during the end of thebreeding season. So any of the ‘trophy’ deer that are harvested will stilllikely have offspring because they are usually the first to breed. It also doesnot give deer the credit they deserve. The biggest bucks are typically theoldest and they didn’t get to that age by being stupid. It’s arguable that theyrecognize the hunting season and will stay hidden away or in extremely ruralareas to avoid it. The majority of hunters will probably never even see deerpast the age of three years old during hunting season. Here is a journal thatattempts to determine the causes of the decline in bighorn horn sizes (theproblem mentioned in the article). It does not seem that hunting pressure is one of the main causes, even with thelargest trophies being sought out.

Finally my biggest issue is theending paragraph because they are so incredibly correct! And then they go tothe other extreme. No, not every person in America should hunt. That would becompletely unrealistic and decimate wildlife. People cannot be trusted when itcomes to moderation, and excess harvesting is no exception. For the same reasonthat everyone hunting wouldn’t work, everyone becoming vegan would not work.Agriculture does a lot of native habitat damage and when harvested with machine(which would be unavoidable if every person was vegan) results in mass animaland insect death. The only way for everyone to be completely cruelty free is toeither sustainably gather wild edibles or grow your own food, preferablyharvesting wild invasives and growing plants without pesticides. Even thatposes a problem, if every person harvested their own wild edibles we’d depletethe natural resource.

So to conclude: things are neverever cut and dry. Yes, wildlife management does encourage hunting but thatargument does not necessarily provide all the facets that go into thatdecision. Yes, feeding deer with human food is definitely dangerous (here’sa little handout about that), but farmers can be incentivized to plant thingslike clover that they will eat. Hunters can be jerks, I’m not denying that, buthunting is not inherently about raising deer or trophies to kill for sport.Vegetarians are not wrong. Vegans are not wrong. The irony is we need ALL ofthese lifestyle variations to survive.

#hunting #vulture culture #ask #hunter #deer #deer population #population #wildlife science #wildlife

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ayeletinthemountains · 5 years

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2019 in Mountains

I’m hopping on the bandwagon and reflecting on a year in review. I don’t make time to write trip reports much these days (I fell off the bandwagon on our van trip, when we were constantly doing cool trips and I just couldn’t keep up [poor me]), so seeing my friend Nikhil write a post summing up his outdoor exploits for the year seemed like a great idea.

Skiing

Since learning to ski in the 2016-17 season, each year has gotten more fun. Typically in winter I focus on the Ogul peak list (a list of peaks in Tahoe, so pretty accessible since most of the roads are plowed; I’m at 35/63 currently), but I’ve learned that seeking summits often doesn’t make for the best skiing. One thing I love about lists though is that it takes me to new places I’d never go otherwise. Some highlights:

Mount Elwell: I wrote a full trip report on this here. This was one of my favorite new areas I got to see. It’s about an hour north of Tahoe, so sees far less visitors, which is always a treat. We saw no one else our whole day in the backcountry, and the views from the summit were spectacular. Plus, we learned about the Plumas Ski Club’s longboard races and checked em out! So much fun. Track

Mount Mildred: Also wrote a trip report on this one here. This peak is behind Alpine Meadows ski resort (where I had a pass this year). It was a pretty long day in terms of mileage for me on skis, so I love seeing the progress I’m making in that regard. Track.

Pyramid/Jacks Desolation Traverse: In late April, given that the big snow year still left good coverage, I did a traverse from Pyramid Peak to Jacks Peak in Desolation Wilderness with friends AJ, Jamie, and Chris. AJ wrote about it here. This was also a long and challenging day for me, being the weakest downhill skier in the group. I didn’t ski the tippy-top of Pyramid (too spooky), but I did manage to ski a bit further down. This day really showed me how great spring skiing can be (and it lends better to summits). Track.

Mount St Helens: Since my older sister Dafna had skied Mount St Helens in the past, I’d had it on my radar and been excited to ski it once I was ready, and this was the year. The skiing is really moderate, the crater is beyond cool, and we made it a family affair! My sisters Ephrat (at 3 months pregnant!) and Dafna joined, along with their partners, Luca and Gil (a first real summit for him! Hiking up on snowshoes, snowboarding down). Mount St Helens is an awesome summit for the hiker/mountaineer learning to ski. I’d happily repeat it someday. Track.

Resort skiing: In 2019 I had the Ikon Pass, which meant mainly skiing Squaw/Alpine. It was my first time skiing at either, and it was a lot of fun, but the traffic was a total nightmare. I had many days where I struggled, sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic not moving at all, feeling so trapped and frustrated that we live so far from the mountains. This year I’m back on Epic, and I’m hoping it will be less miserable. Leo and I also took advantage of some of the other resorts on the pass, making trips to Revelstoke, Lake Louise, Banff Sunshine (all in Canada), Alta, and Snowbird.

Rogers Pass: My first (and only) day backcountry skiing in Canada, at such an amazing location. I survived the cold! Track.

I was sick for a good month in winter, which really put my year off to a rocky start and felt like it brought down my fitness a lot. I thought I was getting better and pushed myself really hard for a few days in the backcountry (climbing Anderson Peak with my friend Brice, track), but then I found myself sick again for another two weeks (making me nervous I might not be healthy enough for our Canada trip). I relearned the importance of rest and taking care of yourself.

Ice Climbing

New skill for 2019! Well, technically it started in December 2018 with a trip to the Bozeman Ice Fest, which was an amazing way to learn the basics of the sport. Leo and I both liked it so much that we did three more days of it in Canmore, even hiring a guide to take us up Louise Falls (a 3 pitch climb). Originally I thought I should just know the utmost basics of the sport, but now I find I actually enjoy it and would love to do more of it. I think I could potentially even… lead someday? Which is something I feel pretty defeated about doing in rock climbing. It’s interesting to think about why this doesn’t scare me when rock climbing does. I think it is because in rock climbing I get nervous moving for holds I can barely reach, as opposed to in ice climbing, you can make a hold almost anywhere you like. Leading is still a long ways off for me, of course, but it’s cool to think this might be possible in the future.

Mountaineering/Alpine Climbing

Mount Rainier: After learning the aforementioned basics of ice climbing, we put them to the test on Rainier. Leo and I had attempted Rainier in 2017 with our friend Ryan, but turned back at 13k ft due to bad conditions. This time, Leo, Nikhil, and I climbed the Kautz Glacier route in mid-June. We did a one night trip, camping at 12k feet, right below the Kautz ice section, carrying our gear over the following day and descending the DC. A lot of thoughts on this trip: The most challenging thing for me probably were the stats combined with carrying a very heavy pack. Heavy packs are definitely my biggest weakness and something I’d like to train this year. Our group members and I still all have a lot to learn in terms of glacier navigation and travel. Rainier is a big mountain, and definitely a step above most California summits. I definitely wouldn’t be comfortable climbing it in adverse conditions (California fair-weather climber here!), and it shows the edges of where I can develop more skills to increase my safety margin. The mountain also really showed me why it is such a great training ground for future expeditions. It was a tough trip, but I’d like to back again for more routes. (Plus, we didn’t make it to the high point of the crater! Gotta go back). I felt pretty wrecked for over a week after this trip, really surprised at the recovery time I needed. Track 1, 2.

Arete des Cosmiques: Leo and I made our first trip to Chamonix this year, and it truly is a dream playground. We were lucky to overlap with our friend Chelsea and Michael by coincidence, so we all warmed up by climbing the world-famous Arete des Cosmiques together. We had great weather and it was just all around fun. Track.

Pyramide du Tacul: Also in Chamonix. This was just a good, fun climb in a spectacular setting. Alpine starts in Chamonix are beyond gorgeous. Track 1, 2.

Aiguille de la Republique: This is called the pointiest, most exposed summit in Chamonix! With a description like that, how could we not check it out? To tackle this, Leo and I spent two nights in the Refuge des Envers, which is a decent hike. We got to walk on our first dry glacier, which was beyond cool. The peak itself was pretty challenging, and we technically bailed about 50 feet below the summit, but I was proud of the effort. There was a little bit of everything: glacier approach, spicy scrambling, glorious hand jams, great exposure. It was a long and challenging day, but a good way to push myself. Track 1, 2.

Me touching the point of the Aiguille de la Republique in the first picture, the day before we hiked in.

Mont Blanc: Our last outing in Chamonix was Mont Blanc. After trying and failing many times to get spaces at the Gouter Hut, we had given up on climbing it. A record heat wave for our whole visit had made climbing Mont Blanc via the other main route, Trois Monts (three mountain route), too dangerous, due to a lot of steep snow and passing below seracs. However, at the end of our trip the heat wave passed and we had a great day for a summit. We climbed the Trois Monts route from the Cosmiques Hut (an amazing place to stay! At 11k ft on a glacier with warm food and excellent wifi). It was quite crowded (in my opinion), but the sunrise and views were spectacular. And a new elevation PR for both Leo and me! It was a really special way to close out the trip. Track.

Sierra

So many great adventures in the “backyard” this summer, despite my fitness limiting me. After losing a bunch of fitness at the start of the year, I had another setback by developing some pain in my left knee (patellofemoral pain syndrome). This meant I took nearly 6 months off from running, one of my main ways to keep in shape. I also limited my mountain excursions, usually only doing one day of long hiking/scrambling per weekend, to not push my knee too much. Some Sierra highlights:

Morgan N & Stanford linkup: This really is a lovely day in the Sierra. The mileage is a bit long, but it really doesn’t feel very sloggy at all. The terrain is quite solid 90% of the time, and you get to descend the “greatest sand slope in the Sierra”, coming down from Stanford. Did this peak with new friends Sarah, Peter (who are both also SPS-ers :D), Rob, and Alexandra, and it was a blast. Track.

Banner Peak: A fun one! Took advantage again of the good snow year to climb the snow route up the Ritter-Banner saddle. Got to do this with Leo, which was his first time in Ansel Adams Wilderness. Excited to finish off the pair, since I’d climbed Ritter a number of years ago. Now it won’t feel as incomplete when I look at the Mammoth skyline. Hoping to go back for Clyde Minaret this year with Leo via the climbing route. Track.

Williamson & Tyndall: An overnight with Emily and a new friend, Alex. We hiked in day 1, climbed both peaks day 2, and hiked out day 3 before having some BBQ at the US’s best restaurant in Big Pine. I found both peaks to be really fun (and incredibly popular! Was shocked by the number of people we saw). Aside from sleeping a bit cold at night in my bivy sack, this was mostly a Type 1 fun trip with fun humans, bring my CA 14er count to 13. Shepherds Pass was not as bad as I expected, I’m very happy to say (since, well, I’m going to have to hike it many more times). Track 1, 2, 3.

Labor Day peak extravaganza: Inspired by this Bob Burd trip report, Leo and I planned an excellent “compromise” trip, which was maybe my favorite trip of the summer. We planned to tackle some peaks in the high country of Sequoia/Kings Canyon (SEKI), but chose to enter from the East side, unlike Bob, due to fear of our inability to get permits for Labor Day Weekend (our East side TH had 20 or 30 walk up permits available — the West side had 6 [shared with the very popular Rae Lakes trailhead]). Leo and I hiked in Friday evening, hiking 9 miles to camp near Charlotte Lake. The next morning, we rose early to head over to Charlotte Dome. We climbed the 50 Classic Route on the dome, seeing only one other party (in perfect weather on a 3 day weekend??), climbing it quickly enough to unlock the rest of the trip. We had set a time for ourselves, that if we didn’t summit by a certain time, the rest of the trip wasn’t in the cards. Leo did a great job leading on probably too skinny of a rope and with too little gear… but you make gear tradeoffs when you’re carrying it 40+ miles in a weekend. From Charlotte Dome we hiked up a pretty awful slope to the Gardiner summit ridge. We dropped our packs and did the fun 4th class ridge to the true summit. We then reversed our steps back to our packs, and hurried down the other side of the peak, making camp in the dark. The next day was another hard one. We left camp as is, and hiked over to Clarence King, a peak with one of the more challenging summit blocks in the Sierra. We climbed another miserable loose slope, and found ourselves at the summit block. Leo, again, led it in good style. My height made it really hard for me to pull the very exposed move on to the summit block, and I nearly gave up. But, Leo found a way to safely belay me with the rope running over the summit block itself as an “anchor”, and I managed to summit! From there we hiked back over near camp, and I managed to pull together the energy to summit our fourth and final summit of the trip, Mount Cotter. This was a really fun class 2 scramble, that I was really thankful I found the energy for, since it’s ~30 mi round trip from the trailhead. We made it back to camp right before dark, and slept like rocks. The next day was a looong hike out ending in a downpour/thunder storm, before driving the long way back home. This trip felt like such an amazing way to really get out there in the Sierra and explore some epic spots, covering a lot of ground and carrying as little gear as possible. I’d love to do more overnights entering Friday evening after work this year. Track 1, 2, 3, 4.

Middle Palisade: A really fun day with Emily. This type of day is pretty much my favorite way to spend a day in the mountains – moving quickly over interesting terrain in a gorgeous setting. I’d been nervous that this would just be a total slog, but it was far from it. Very little of the terrain sucked, the scrambling was fun, and of course the views were great. I’m really excited to come back for the other peaks in the area now. Brought my CA 14er count to 14/15! Track.

Mount Hooper: Holy smokes the western Sierra is also awesome. I had only ever been to this area when I hiked through it on the JMT. I’d never driven the crazy Kaiser Pass road out into the west side. Leo and I had an excellent “compromise” weekend hiking Mount Hooper, visiting Mono Hot Springs, and doing some climbing on Tollhouse Rock. Again, new places that my list took me that ended up being really special. Really excited to go back. Track.

East Buttress of Middle Cathedral: My fifty classic for the year! But really, at least once a year I need to go to Yosemite Valley and climb something fun with Leo. It’s a good way to make me appreciate rock climbing and spend time doing something Leo loves. Plus, well, Yosemite has some pretty good climbs I guess. 😜 This was a really fun one with excellent climbing on it, and with only 3 parties on it on a gorgeous weekend day! One of them including Hans Florine, who was very nice. 😄 Rock climbing isn’t so bad sometimes.

Desert

Not too much time in the desert this year, unfortunately, aside from a JTree trip over Memorial Day Weekend, and a week in Sedona over Thanksgiving (though it rained/snowed half the time). Sedona is another awesome playground that I’m surprised doesn’t see more climbers. The towers are endless and stunning. I love the crazy features that form there. Given the poor weather, we didn’t get to do too much, but our climbs of The Fin as a group of 5 (track), and of Queen Victoria with Daiyi (track) both stand out as really fun outings.

Personal mountain philosophy

To the outside, it probably seems like I go on endless trips effortlessly, but that’s definitely not the case. I have an amazing partner, but our outdoor interests don’t fully line up, and that caused me a lot of frustrations in 2018. I hadn’t done a great job of fostering outdoor friendships, so it put a lot of pressure on my relationship with Leo, feeling like he was my only partner and we had to spend every weekend together. In winter, it’s great, since we both love to ski (though Leo is a much stronger skier than me, so I sometimes hold him back), but in summer it was a problem. Leo’s favorite activity is climbing, and climbing hard. When we climb together, it really limits the grades and objectives he can go after. On top of that, I don’t have nearly as much of an interest in hard climbs, and am all about long scrambles. We also both have a lot of our own mountain goals, and we weren’t able to accomplish them by spending most weekends together.

This summer, I made a concerted effort instead to spend less time with Leo and develop friendships with others. It was scary to put myself out there, reaching out to folks on social media or asking other friends to introduce me, but it definitely paid off in the end. I added some people I really clicked with to my network, and got to have some really great days with them in the mountains. I still enjoy solo days in the mountains as well, but I see a lot of value in seeking out others to share those experiences with whenever possible. I think it’s still good for me to do at least one solo trip a summer, but, generally, spending all those hours driving and hiking alone is something I want to avoid when possible. On top of having more friends I’ve connected with, I also enjoy the weekends I do spend with Leo more now, not feeling the stress that “oh no, this weekend I’m not accomplishing my goal again”. It also made me appreciate when we reconnect at the end of the weekend, swapping stories of how our trips went and cheering each other on. I feel more balanced and fulfilled, and I want to keep chasing that.

Also one weekend we took an offer from a photographer to do a free “elopement” photo shoot, to help build her portfolio. Cue me having to explain to everyone that we are not engaged or married, we just did a fun, different thing in the mountains for once.

Things I am excited about in 2020:

Making more mountain friends, spending more time with my current ones.

I just left my job, and won’t be starting my new one till the end of March! I’m spending a few weeks in Ecuador starting in late January, aiming to climb some of the high volcanoes there. I see this as great training for future expeditions like Denali. Hoping for good weather!

For the aforementioned trip, I’ve been training quite hard for the first time in my life. I am nervous, since my knee really prevented me from keeping up my fitness in 2019, and I’m not fully back from that yet. I am doing one of the pre-made training plans from Uphill Athlete, and it’s been the first time I’ve had a focused training plan. I am impressed with just how much cardio I can squeeze into one week :-P I’m excited to keep it up this year, and hopefully have a very strong summer season.

Getting better at skiing. And a hut trip to ski in the Selkirk mountains in Canada in March at the Bill Putnam hut, before starting my new job.

Spending some days at the Sierra Challenge. I’ve never participated before, but it’s about time I make the time to check it out!

Clyde Minaret via the 5.8 50 Classic.

Lone Pine Peak via the North Ridge.

Split Mountain! Ideally via the St Jean Couloir, but if not, then via the summer route. This would be my last California 14er :)

Boundary Peak (the highest peak in Nevada, on the border between California and Nevada (you see what they did there?). I drove past it last week and am now enamored with it.

Reaching 100 peaks on the SPS list (currently at 85/100).

A potential Orizaba trip over the winter holidays!

….maybe a big wall with Leo.

Something else you want to climb together??

#2019

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stylesbicon · 7 years

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What was that in the tags? Something along the lines of "I will totally do a part 3 with Crutchie, don't tempt me?" Also, because Race apparently has panic attacks alone in his room and I cannot stand for that, maybe some Sprace + comfort?

[PART 1] [PART 2]

This ended up going a completely different direction than I intended, and I couldn’t fit in the Sprace, but I tried with the comfort part and at least got half of that ship in here (send me other Sprace prompts if you want ill totally do them)

Race used to love being up alone at night. Laying in the boardinghouse, listening to the breathing and snores of all the other newsies in the large bedroom, it was relaxing. And something about knowing you were the only one in what could even be a full city block of hundreds of people who was awake, it felt satisfying. It wouldn’t happen often, but the times he would find himself randomly stirred awake by some bump in the night had never been anything he was bothered by– it had been a special treat, a rare delight.

Now, it was normal to jerk awake every night in a cold sweat, forcing himself to remember where he was, who he was, that he was safe, praying nobody had heard him. Every now and then in the next inevitably sleepless hours he would hear familiar noises from the others: Buttons passing gas from across the room (an unfortunate but at-this-point-expected habit), Albert mumbling in his sleep from the bunk below his, the occassional noise from Henry and Romeo as they dealt with their own nightmares– Race didn’t know what they were about, but he wouldn’t dream of ever asking. Sometimes he could even hear Specs snore from the other bedroom downstairs.

Tonight though, Race heard a new sound. It came from downstairs too, the sounds of panic and distress he’d come to associate with the nightmares he’d occassionally hear. It wasn’t loud enough to wake any of the others, but it was loud enough to catch Race’s attention. He was already out of bed and pulling on his pants, brimming with curiosity and concern. Newsies in the room downstairs didn’t usually have nightmares- none that sounded this bad, at least. Sure, a lot had been going on in the past few weeks with the strike and all, and maybe this was to be expected, but Race had a feeling, like something about this wasn’t normal.

Feeling his way to the stairs, he crept down them, careful to keep his feet on the outside close to the wall to keep them from creaking and waking any of the lighter sleepers– it was a work day tomorrow, after all. After a couple minutes of extra-cautious tiptoeing, Race found himself in the second of the two bedrooms that the other half of the newsies slept in. Following the noise of the mystery Nightmare-Haver– were they crying now?– he made his way across the room to a bunk he recognized.

“Crutchie?” he whispered, trying to control the shocked volume of his voice. Crutchie didn’t have nightmares, and he never cried. He was… always happy. The biggest optimist of the group.

But that was Crutchie’s voice responding to his in the dark, as different as it sounded.

“R-racetrack?” it whispered, shaky and weak. It almost sounded like Crutchie didn’t believe Race was even there.

Race reached out for Crutchie’s shoulder, finding it and giving it a squeeze. He felt the flinch under his hand.

Oh, that made sense though, if he thought about it.

Still careful not to wake the others, Race led Crutchie over to the window and helped him out onto the fire escape, where the two of them would be able to talk. Sitting down, Race gestured for Crutchie to sit beside him. In the moonlight he could see now that Crutchie must have been crying– he looked awful, and like a part of him still wasn’t all the way there.

Race sighed internally. He knew that look, knew in his gut what Crutchie had been dreaming about, and knew how this conversation was going to go. It was NOT something he wanted to be talking about, especially not at this hour but… who else was going to help Crutchie? Maybe Jack at some point, if the time was right, but Race knew from his own experience that getting Jack to open up was an almost-impossible task. (Still, Race also knew Jack would do anything for Crutchie, so maybe he would let Jack know what was going on in the morning….)

“It was the Refuge, wasn’t it?” Race had waited long enough to talk and cut right to the chase. Crutchie responded by looking away embarrassed.

“I didn’t mean ta wake ya…” He mumbled.

“Lucky for you I was already awake. I gets my own sweet dreams from that place…” Race reached into his pocket for the cigar he knew was there, pulling out his matches with it- he needed to light it tonight.

Crutchie shifted uncomfortably, aware that neither of them wanted to have this conversation but both of them needed it. It was not lost on him that Racetrack Higgins never talked about his time in the Refuge with another soul save Jack, and they each only ever talked about it to each other on rare occasions.

“I wasn’t there long, I feels like I ain’t got no rights ta be feelin’ this way…” Crutchie trailed off but Race waited for him to finish, taking the time to light his cigar. “You and Jack, youse were in there for such a long time, an’ Jack always in n’ out, I ain’t seen nothin’ in there compared to-”

“Crutchie, shut up.” Race had to cut him off, suddenly angry. He had no idea what happened to Crutchie in the Refuge, but no matter the time he spent there, he looked bad enough when he got out that Race could only imagine, “Ain’t matter how long you was in there, alright? I knows the kinda stuff they do to boys like us in places like that and it don’t matter if it’s a year or a night, ya can’t come outta there the same. Ain’t no shame in that.” At least that’s what Jack always told him. Race was starting to slowly believe it, but he sure hadn’t said it convincingly enough for Crutchie to buy it.

“This stuff ain’t s'posed ta happen to me, though! The nightmares, gettin’ lost in my memories in the middle'a the day, my leg hasn’t felt right since! Race, I gotta be the guy everyone looks up to! The guy to balance off Jack’s crazy ideas, to cheer Mike up when he gets in his moods, to make sure Elmer eats his breakfast. I can’t do that when I gotta relive all those moments! I’m s'posed ta be better than this!”

Race took the cigar out of his mouth and pointed it into Crutchie’s chest, aiming to make himself perfectly clear.

“Hey! Ain’t no one too good to suffer reality! Yeah, you’s right, you’s our sunshine boy, and so what? You make it through this and keep bein’ our sunshine boy if that’s what ya wants. Ya think Jack’s head’s okay all the time he’s tryin’ to be in charge? We both know it ain’t but he’s still here for us because he believes in us and he makes it through to fight another day, right? And if he can do it, I– we– can do it.”

Race looked away, embarrassed by his outburst and the tears he realized had formed around his eyes. Both boys sat in silence for a while until Crutchie finally spoke, still looking away. (Ain’t no way he ain’t cryin’ too, Race thought, feeling slightly better)

“How bad is it for you?” Crutchie asked quietly.

Race waited another long while before deciding to answer, taking a couple more puffs of his cigar instead.

“I’ll kill ya if ya tell Jack any o’ this, but I’m tryin’ this new thing called being supportive and I cares about ya and don’t like seein’ ya sad like this, okay? So I’ll tell ya and not give ya some wise ass answer…” He sighed. Why the hell was he having this conversation? “I ain’t slept a solid night’s sleep in the two years since I got outta that place, that what ya wanna hear? Sometimes I’ll be sellin’ on some random corner and I thinks I see Snyder and can’t breathe for a solid ten minutes and someone asks me what’s wrong and I gotta make up some excuse after so’s nobody finds out because what’s the point in worryin’ anyone? But Crutchie, I still gets up every morning and sells my papes and makes everyone laugh and they all thinks I’m normal Racetrack Higgins and that’s what counts. We all got our shit, yeah? Me and you and Jack and all the boys and Jojo and Romeo and Mush. And some of that shit’s the same as other people’s shit and some of it’s different, but we all gets through it. We just gotta…. learn how to deal with it. And yeah, maybe most of us don’t deal with it in a way that’s good, but we’s still here for each other at the end of the day, yeah? And if there’s a day when you can’t balance Jack’s ideas or make Elmer eat breakfast, that’s okay because we all has those days, right? But ya just let us help you. And ‘sides me and Jack, nobody else has ta know if you don’t want, but ya gotta talk to someone about this stuff, okay? But Crutchie, listen, ain’t nothin’ wrong with ya that ain’t wrong with all of us, ya hear me?”

It was quiet for a long time again as Crutchie seemed to think about everything Race had said. Race wasn’t sure it was helpful and he had no idea where he’d pulled that speech out of, and he was pretty sure he and Crutchie both knew he never took his own advice, but he prayed it helped. At least so Crutchie could get to a point where he could go back to sleep.

Finally Crutchie shifted to look back at Race with a weak smile. Weak as the smile was, it was still a Genuine Crutchie Smile and he looked definitely better than he had when he’d first come out here.

“Thanks, Race,” he said, then yawned.

Race yawned too and stood up, offering a hand to Crutchie.

“Come on, I’ll help you to the roof. Ya can sleep with Jack the rest of the night– and if you ever remind me that I told you any of this, I’ll kill ya.”

#Anonymous #asked #newsies #i need to start a tag for all the prompts i fill but alas

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looneyllama-archive · 7 years

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Over Our Heads Chapter 2

Summary: Lazytown is under attack. A dark, magical creature wants the land, and will stop at nothing to drive the humans away. Sportacus and Robbie Rotten, the two magical inhabitants of Lazytown, have to come together to save their home. Even if they succeed, however, will life in Lazytown ever be the same?

Chapter 2 "Then, the mugger grabbed my neck!" Inside the mayor's office, the kids sat huddled around Stingy, waiting with baited breath to hear what had happened. Sportacus looked on from behind Mayor Meanswell, lost in thought. "...so I started to feel weird, and I couldn't really hear or see too well. I know Sportacus was there, though! Anyway, I think I was tied up—really tightly too! It almost felt like I was being squeezed by a snake." Stingy scratched his head. "And I can't really remember anything after that." Pixel glanced at his friend's bruised neck and nodded slowly. "Oxygen depravation can lead to unconsciousness. You probably blacked out, Stingy." "Well anyway, I remember lying on the ground outside the woods, so I guess Sportacus rescued me." Ziggy bounced excitedly. "Of course it was Sportacus! Who else would it be?" The blond boy stood up and hugged the hero's leg, pulling Sportacus from his thoughts. "Thank you for saving Stingy!" The other children chorused their gratitude as well, and even the mayor stood to shake his hand. Sportacus struggled to keep a strained smile on his face as the children filed out of the office, heading to their respective homes. When the last child finally left, Sportacus let his face fall and heaved a sigh. "Sportacus? Is something the matter?" The hero slowly turned to face Milford. "Mayor Meanswell, I...I think we should all be taking this more seriously." "Whatever do you mean?" Sportacus hesitated to respond, struggling to find the right words. "Well, Stingy got hurt—" "Oh, but you saved him in the end! And I'm confident that this mystery mugger won't be around again now that she's seen you!" Milford reached up and put his hand on Sportacus's shoulder. "And even if she does return, I have confidence in you. I know you'll keep us safe." Sportacus opened his mouth, but couldn't think of anything to say. He simply forced another smile and jogged out of town hall, his mind racing even faster than his feet. Finally, Sportacus skittered to a stop underneath his airship. "Ladder!" The ship obeyed, and within seconds, he had reached the ship. "Sportacus, it is is past 8:08. Is something wrong?" Without stopping to catch his breath, the elf leapt into the cockpit and scanned Lazytown desperately. "Ship, direct sensors toward the forest! If anything comes out of there, I need to know immediately!" "Redirecting sensors. Sportacus, it would help if I knew what to look for." His adrenaline rush gone, he sighed and slouched in the pilot seat. "It's a skogsfru. She...she wants Lazytown." Sportacus rested his weary head in his hands. "And the townsfolk don't even know they're in danger! I can't explain it to them without breaking the law—and even if I could tell them about the skogsfru, what could they do? Human police wouldn't stand a chance!" "Do you want me to call the Íþróttaálfur Council, Sportacus? Perhaps they can send help." He slowly shook his head. "The infighting about land ownership has gotten terrible, what with so much human expansion in recent years. The skogsfru claimed she used to own this whole area—they're more likely to side with her than with Lazytown." "Are you sure that this skogsfru is wrong in claiming the land?" "I don't know—I don't care!" Sportacus stood and started doing jumping jacks, too agitated to stay still. "It's about more than just the land, I think. She was saying awful things about humans—she hurt one of the kids! If it weren't for Robbie..." He came to a dead halt. "Robbie!" "Sportacus, are you referring to Robbie Rotten?" "Yes!" With his eyes squeezed shut, the elf tried to visualize the scene from earlier, hoping to recall any hints that were present. "It was after the skogsfru left. There was a cloud of mist, and then all of a sudden, Robbie was in front of me—but just for a second! And when he disappeared, he took Stingy with him!" Sportacus's eyes snapped opened. "I think...I think Robbie is a huldrekall." A heavy silence fell, and dragged on for several minutes. Finally, the ship's AI piped up. "That is plausible." "I have to talk to him! Maybe he can help!" "That is less plausible. Sportacus, Robbie Rotten is a self-proclaimed villain." Sportacus stared harshly into the camera "eye" of his airship. "Robbie saved Stingy today—I don't understand exactly how, but he did. I know that he's a good person at heart." He waited, but no reply came. Sportacus sighed. "Ship, bed. Wake me if you sense movement from the forest, or if you see Robbie Rotten." Sportacus laid himself down, but with his thoughts in turmoil, it would be several more hours until he managed to fall asleep. Far below the airship, Robbie stomped back and forth through his lair. "What the HELL was I thinking?! I let the blue elf see me do magic!" As the echo of his shouts faded, he finally slumped in his recliner. "The ELF. The one in a council with other flipping kangaroos who don't like huldufólk messing around with humans. Though of course, it's FINE for elves to interfere, and make kids be healthy and active and LOUD!" Robbie stuck out his lower lip, pouting. After a moment, his expression became fearful. "What if he starts thinking I'm a real threat now? No, no, he's never taken me seriously before." He chewed nervously on his thumb, muffling his words. "But he knows I can do magic. And I stopped him from doing...whatever he was doing to that kid. God, he actually hurt one of the kids! He'll have no problem killing ME!" Whimpering, Robbie rolled over and buried his face into the chair's orange fur. The villain stayed in that uncomfortable position for nearly an hour, trying desperately to get his anxiety under control. He finally managed to slow his breathing, and curled his long, lean body into a more comfortable position on the recliner. "I'll just have to stay undercover. He doesn't know where my lair is, so maybe I can stay safe long enough for him to give up...maybe." With that, Robbie began to succumb to his exhaustion, but before he fell asleep, he let out one more miserable mutter. "And I was starting to like him, too." \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ The elven crystal blared, and Sportacus awoke with a start. He was drenched in his own cold sweat, and his mind echoed with fragments of his nightmares. Worse, the whole airship reeked with an unpleasant earthy oder. Sportacus got out of bed shakily. "Ship, time?" "It is 4:36, Sportacus. I have sensed no movement from the forest." "Well, you missed something!" The hero snatched up his crystal and rushed to the trapdoor of the airship, nearly forgetting to grab his signature blue hat. Once he hit the ground, Sportacus shoved the hat over his pointed ears and began a mad dash to Pixel's house. Finally, the elf skittered to a stop in front of the door, breathing hard. He rattled the knob frantically, but it locked. Sportacus nearly screamed in frustration, but managed to take a deep breath and started pounding on the door. "Sportacus?!" "Pixel! Are you ok?" The boy leaned farther out of his bedroom window and squinted at Sportacus. "Um, yeah, I'm fine. Is something wrong?" "I don't know, my crystal went off!" He held up the flashing object so Pixel could see. The boy winced at the bright light. "Hang on, I'll open the door for you." The moment Pixel pulled his head back into his room, the crystal's flashing grew brighter, and it began beeping again. "NO!" Pixel's face reappeared in the window. "What? Why?" "Just stay there, Pixel! Don't move!" Sportacus scanned the yard frantically, and noticed a rake on the ground. He seized it and threw it toward Pixel's window. The angled prongs caught the edge of the frame, causing the handle to hang below. With a running start, Sportacus managed to leap high enough to grasp the handle; using his upper body strength, he began pulling his body up the handle. The action dislodged the rake, and it hit to the ground just as Sportacus managed to grab the window frame and pull himself up into the room. "Do you have a flashlight?" Pixel's mouth was hanging open, but he had enough presence of mind to snatch his wristwatch off of the nightstand and switch on the attached LED penlight. Wordlessly, Sportacus took the watch and shone the light over the bedroom floor. Shards of glass covered every inch. Shaking slightly, Pixel clutched at the hero's forearm and pulled it so that the light in his hand was directed toward the desk. "My computers!" Sure enough, not a single monitor had a screen. Pixel just stared for a solid minute at the destruction. When he finally spoke, he was tripping over the words. "H-how could this happen? I mean, what shattered them—all of them at once! And it didn't wake me up?!" The boy wrapped his arms around himself and rocked back and forth on bed, in shock from the damage to his refuge. Sportacus forced himself to look away from the hazard on the floor; he had a child to attend to. "Pixel, I'm wearing shoes. Is it ok if I pick you up and carry you over the floor?" It took him a moment to respond, but he managed a nod. Sportacus gently wrapped his arms around the boy and lifted him off the bed. In just three long strides, the elf crossed the room and after checking for glass, carefully set Pixel down in the doorway. "Can you wake your parents and tell them what's wrong with your room? I really need to go check on the others." His short legs trembling, Pixel ran down the dark hallway. Once Sportacus was sure the adults of the house were awake, he dashed out of the house and into town. A/N: Quick definitions of the folkloric terms used in this chapter Skogsfru—female forest spirit Íþróttaálfur—sports elf, a general species name (Íþróttaálfurinn is a specific designation) Hulderkall—a male member of the huldufólk (a female is called a huldra)

#over our heads #lazytown #lazytown au #LazyTown fanfiction #dark magic Lazytown AU

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