#les Jacobs fanfiction

[faefox9]

I'm indecisive so..

I'll probably try to write all of these at some point, but which one should I start first?

[youaintnothinbuta]

A jack kelly x fem! Reader hanging out with the newsies then Les randomly blurts out “their kinda like mom and dad” Jack get really embarrassed and every bursts out laughing while agreeing

“They’re kinda like mom and dad.” — jack kelly x reader

Summary: see request^^

Pairing: Jack Kelly x fem!reader

Word count: 375

Warnings: none!! Fluff <3

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You sat with Jack and the other newsies in your usual spot, on the rooftop of a building near the lodge. You lean back against the edge, listening to the others converse, while Jack sat beside you, holding you close, his smile lighting up his face as he jokes with the others.

“Hey, Finch, back up from the edge.” Jack calls out to him, reaching over to tap Specs to tell him to grab onto Finch’s shirt.

Les, the youngest of the newsies, pipes up from across the circle. “You know,” he says with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “Jack and Y/N are kinda like mom and dad.”

There's a moment of silence as his words sink in, and then the group erupts into giggles and agreement. You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks as you exchange a glance with Jack. Jack's expression is a mix of embarrassment and amusement, and he rubs the back of his neck as all the boys start nudging him, calling him daddy.

“Come on, Les, don't be ridiculous,” he argues, but his protest is met with more rowdiness from the Newsies.

“It’s true!” Race chimes in, grinning. "Making sure we're fed and safe, more parents than mine ever were.”

“Yeah, consider us practice until you start making your own.” Elmer added, Jack punching him lightly in the arm in response.

Jack shot you a sheepish smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “They’re not wrong,” you say, your tone teasing. He playfully nudges you with his elbow, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“I guess,” Jack surrenders, the group continues to tease and joke, their laughter echoing off the surrounding buildings. Despite Jack's initial embarrassment, you can see the fondness in his eyes as he looks around at the ragtag family you've all become. Les and Davey had their parents to go home to, yes, but Les considered you just as much of a parental figure. He crawled over to Jack, curling up in his lap, Jack still with one arm wrapped around your waist, listening as the others continued their chatter. Jack takes your hand in his, squeezing it three times, one of the many ways he wordlessly tells you he loves you.

[thatsallshewrot3]

Newsies Prompts!

(I do love a good Jack/Davey story, but I have nothing against Jack/Katherine. Also these mostly revolve around the musical story line)

Let me know if y’all use these prompts or if you have any fic recommendations!

-The newsies go looking for Jack when he’s locked in basement and find him chained/beaten up

-Jack starves himself so the others can eat and people start to notice

-Jack suffers with depression or sh

-Jack gets hurt in the refuge and the others rescue him

-Jack takes crutchies place in the refuge and he gets hurt

-Jack starts do illegal things (secret fights, drugs, prostitution, etc.) to make more money to feed the newsies

-Jack goes mute after a traumatic event

-Jack stuck inside a burning building after running in to save Les, who unknown to Jack was already out

-Jack gets arrested and the newsies are at the hearing and eventually save him from the refuge

-what if in order to lower the price of papes Jack made a deal to do some illegal activities for Pulitzer?

-jack kidnapped

-s*icidal jack (maybe the newsies take shifts watching him and trying to help him)

-Jack struggles with addiction

Im here for all the angst 😅 I would love to see these with a modern twist on them too!

[viccyfics]

Part of a newsies fic I'm currently working on

"You doing okay?" Davey asked, concern etched in his voice.

Les nodded, his breath coming in short bursts. "Yeah, just trying to keep up with you, Davey. You walk so fast! I can't wait until I have longer legs like you."

[ill-say-anything-i-hafta]

The Lower Manhattan Boys (and Spot Conlon) Tell You How They Make Extra Money In the Winter

1. Thievin'

Jack: I will pick a pocket if the opportunity presents itself, but the church collection boxes is easiest, especially at this time of year.

Racetrack: That's a big risk Jack. They's always gonna be lookin' closer at a guy like you. it's just another form of gamblin', really.

Jack: Hey, you stay out of this, pal. You sound like Dave. And it ain't as if Ise stealin' stuff away from the intended recipients. Them funds is supposed to be for the poor and needy, right? Ain't we poor?

Racetrack: You want another card, or is we gonna sit here jawin' all night?

Jack: I fold.

2. Shovelin' walkways

Buttons: We charges two cents to do the stretch of sidewalk in front of your shop or your home, plus an extra penny if you wants your stoop cleared. Railings is free. And we gives a discount if you is old and feeble.

Romeo: Or if you is pretty.

Buttons: We do Jacobi's and the theater for free.

Jojo: But we charges extra if you looks like you can afford it. Miss Katherine taught us this is called bein' an entrepreneur.

Buttons: Hey, dummy, speak for yourself. I don't need no girl to teach me big words. In fact, I already knowed that one.

Jojo: Well I ain't needed to know it to do it. Ise a natural.

3. Encouragin' tips

Crutchie: I gets around all right, generally. Don't let no one tell you different. But ice and snow on cobblestones ain't no picnic for me. And damp weather like this, the leg won't hardly give me no peace. I miss a lot of sellin' days. But I got a compensatory seasonal advantage. Here's what I do: I fumble with the change. More often than not, by the time I gets the coins out of my pocket, they don't even want 'em.

Les: So what? I do that every single day of the year. It doesn't always work, but it can't hurt, right?

Crutchie: Youse real cute, Les. But let's just say someone like me gets more tips in December.

Les: Why?

Crutchie: Look. It ain't my fault some fella wrote a Christmas story about a kid with a crutch. It ain't my fault if i puts folks in mind of that kid. I didn't ask for it.

Les: But you're Jewish, like us. Aren't you?

Crutchie: Shh! Who told you that?

Les: Specs.

Crutchie: Well, keep it under your hat. There's money on the line.

4. Totin' packages and similar errends

Elmer: I'se the only who makes money this way because no one in their right mind would trust most of these boys. But I got a innocent face. And luckily for my regulars, I got a honest disposition to go along with it.

5. Soakin' Midtown kids

Albert: Complain all you like about the short, dark days of winter, but there is some things I happen to like about this time of year. The sight of a wreath of greenery and berries hangin' on someone's door. Hot chestnuts from a cart. The cheery fellow-feeling that is in evidence everywhere you -- hey, ain't that Lefty Petrovitch? What's he doin' south of Fourteenth Street?

Spot: [Cracking her knuckles] Let's get him!

Albert: I appreciate your help, Spot.

Spot: It is my personal pleasure, Al. In fact, this is one of my favorite pastimes of the Christmas season because not only is I doin' you a good turn, but we might also make a tidy profit besides, depenin' on how good he was sellin'.

Albert: Just 'cause we all got a union together don't mean kids should get away with floutin' mutually agreed-upon territorial boundaries.

Spot: Yeah!

Albert: Remind me, why does Race get to sell way across the bridge at Sheepshead?

Spot: [Cracking her knuckles again] I often find myself ponderin' that self-same question.

FIN.

[ethereal-bumble-bee]

Chapter 13 of When the World Falls Into Anarchy is now out!!!

when the world falls into anarchy (15176 words) by etherealbumblebee Chapters: 13/? Fandom: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken, Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies (1992), Newsies: The Broadway Musical! (2017) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins, Albert DaSilva/Finch (Newsies), Sarah Jacobs/Katherine Plumber Pulitzer, David Jacobs/Jack Kelly, Crutchie/Albert DaSilva (Newsies), Bill Hearst/Darcy Reid Characters: Spot Conlon, Racetrack Higgins, Finch (Newsies), Albert DaSilva (Newsies), Jack Kelly (Newsies), Crutchie (Newsies), Katherine Plumber Pulitzer, David Jacobs, Les Jacobs, Bill Hearst, Darcy Reid Additional Tags: Zombie Apocalypse, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Post-Apocalypse, Danger, Survival Summary: One month. It’d been one month since the first signs of the plague showed up, since the first person became mad with fever and insane with bloodlust, since the disease had ravaged the world until there was nothing left. Spot had been lucky somehow, able to stay far from the infected, but as far as he could tell, he’d been the only one. … One month after the outbreak of a disease that turned the whole world on its head, Spot Conlon must navigate his way through a world no longer safe to walk in, seeking safety alongside several other survivors. When the world falls into anarchy, who will be able to see their way through?

[sl-newsie]

Stop The Press (Spot Colon x Female Newsie) Masterlist Part V 🗞️

[newsies-are-the-new-best-thing]

Why must everything be so confusing?

Part 8 of my trans Davey series, 'my courage, found'

<prev & next> masterlist

TW: accidental misgendering, brief mention of period typical sexism, brief mention of minor character injury

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(Sarah's POV)

When Davey was eight and Sarah barely seven, they had created a pact between themselves. The two of them had snuck out of bed late one-night, childish excitement forcing them out of their warm covers to watch the first snow of the season fall. They had been laying on the rug near the fireplace. Flickering embers from the dying fire had kept the worst of the biting cold away, casting slivers of gold onto their faces. Through the window, fat snowflakes lazily drifted past, dancing in a light breeze.

Sarah was the one who brought it up, always one to speak her mind. One to demand and act without hesitation. It had been almost silent, only the slight crackle of the fire to listen to, and her voice had been loud in comparison despite how she whispered her words.

“We should form a pact,” she had said, a serious look settling upon her round face.

“A pact?” Davey had been confused, frowning slightly and moving to sit up. Sarah copied her, so they were now sitting cross-legged and facing each other.

“It means a promise,” Sarah clarified.

“I know what it means,” Davey had scoffed, “I meant, what exactly would we promise?”

Sarah had huffed at her, annoyed by Davey’s reply, “I wanted us to promise that we would never hide stuff or lie to each other, but you don’t seem to want to make it.”

“No, no- Sarah,” Davey hurriedly said, starting to smile, “I do, c’mon let’s make it.”

“You really want to?”

“Really, c’mon,” Davey had grabbed her hands then, and solemnly said, “I promise to never lie or hide anything from you, Sarah.”

Sarah had followed her lead, voice very serious, repeating the promise and even using Davey’s real name. Her sister had wrinkled her nose at it and told Sarah to use Davey. But Sarah had reminded her that the pact had to be formal which just caused Davey to sigh and shove Sarah over. Then Sarah had kicked Davey and they had both begun trying to wrestle each other while being as quiet as possible.

Their parents had found them ten minutes later because of Sarah screeching at Davey to let go over her braid, while Davey demanded Sarah stop sitting on top of her and digging her knees into her stomach.

The rest of the memory is blurry, but it doesn’t matter. The important part is the fact that they had made a promise, swore to each other, a damn oath, not to lie nor hide things from each other.

The two of them were supposed to tell each other everything. And sure, Sarah may have kept a few secrets from Davey over the years such as who stole her last piece of chocolate or the real names of her crushes. However, Sarah had never acted so blatantly secretive as Davey had been doing for the past couple months. So obviously hiding something.

At first, Sarah had brushed it off as Davey being Davey, always seeming to be half a step out of her body. Occasions where Davey had been completely unaware of outside happenings seemed to become more frequent. And Sarah had become concerned that perhaps something terrible had happened to her sister to cause such a state. Because despite Davey having always suffered from such bouts of mindlessness, it had never been so bad.

Also, Davey had suddenly started being much more tired during the days. Normally, she was wide awake and eager to learn, but now she was barely keeping her eyes open. And Sarah had offered to trade rooms, so that Davey could sleep on a nicer mattress in case that was the problem, but her sister had hurriedly and resoundingly refused. Why Davey likes sleeping in that little closet she will never know. It is either freezing or roasting most of the time due to the windows, and full of spiders and occasional mice. Also, the worn furniture takes up so much room that the door cannot even open all the way. Whatever Davey is hiding, Sarah had thought, I am not going in there to find out.

Then Davey started disappearing after school a lot more than usual. Davey normally came home to study with her but claimed to now be meeting up with friends to study. Which Sarah knows is utter horse shit because Davey does not have friends. She knows every kid in their grade at school and none of them have mentioned studying with her sister. So, Sarah had jumped to the obvious conclusion that Davey was meeting up with a boy. And that just irked her. Why would she hide something like that? Did their pact mean nothing?

But then their father had been injured and Davey had stepped up to take care of them while their mother had been trying to keep herself together. It always seemed to be Sarah who was the one to take care of the three of them, or at least Davey, Les was good at taking care of himself.

But Davey always seemed to forget how to behave, how to properly act as a girl. Her sister had been in a war against skirts for practically her whole life, always tripping and yanking at them awkwardly. On multiple occasions she had to stop Davey from cutting her hair in some sort of fit of emotion, and then lie to their teacher about why Davey had decided to braid her hair up in such a way that it looked quite manly.

So, Sarah had never expected Davey to be the one in the kitchen cooking for them, nor the one to talk with all the relatives and friends that had stopped by. She hadn’t expected to find Davey pouring over the old newspapers about the trolley strike or find him reviewing the bills and bank statements, helping their mother stretch finances more than they already have been.

After those surprises, she has been almost unbothered about Davey going to find work while she has stayed back to help their mother. It had been easier, she realized, to stay near home, in case something happened to their parents. Plus, if she and Davey were both at home and taking care of the neighbors’ kids, their brother would be going to find work by himself. And Les definitely should not be sent alone to news gate, he had a habit of scurrying off into random adventures if left unattended.

The thing is, the first night of them working, Les returned with a sum that was definitely more than what Davey would be making as a laundress. And when she had invited Jack over for dinner, Davey had conveniently not arrived home even though her sister should have been as she’d been quite worried about their father. Strange that she had not been to dinner where Les, the well-known mischief maker, had agreed to host a boy, Jack, around their ages. Hmm…she thinks, strange.

Plus, he had kept mentioning Davey. For whatever reason though, he’d thought they had another brother named Davey as well which would just be confusing. Maybe Davey knew Jack and told him to try and throw off any suspicion that they were acquainted. Why Jack chose to make up a lie about their brother Davey selling with them…. Sarah doesn’t have an answer at that bothers her.

Les’s behavior was also telling. More silent than usual, practically shoveling food in his mouth at a speed only rivaled by a high-speed train. Then, it hit her, he knew something. Davey had told him something. Told him the reason behind the hiding and secretive nature. She had told Les the reason and not her. No, Sarah is not jealous of her kid brother, that would just be petty.

Alright, she admits she is a bit jealous that Davey decided to break their pact and then tell Les instead of her. They were each other’s best friends, basically twins despite the ten month age gap, always enjoying the same books and subjects in school, always fighting over who got the scrap of extra dough when their mother made rugelach.

Currently, Sarah is waiting for Davey to return from her job which is keeping her awfully late. Maybe she could tag along with Davey tomorrow and ask her boss to assign something shorter. Tiredly, she swipes at her drooping eyes, attempting to force herself more awake. Les had gone to bed a few hours ago after telling her that Davey was probably going to be home much later and that she should not wait up.

Well, she had thought, if Les doesn’t want me to stay up, it’s probably because whatever he knows. So, here she is, sitting on her thin mattress in her creepy room, trying not to fall asleep before she comes back. But even if she does, Davey will have to wake her up to sleep which is why she chose this spot. Yawning Sarah slides backwards until her back hits the wall, letting her eyes rest for a moment.

Light slides in onto her face annoyingly bright. Confused, Sarah drags herself upright, squinting at the room around her. Even in the horrifyingly sharp orange light, everything has remained the same as last night. The door still shut; the dresser drawers undisturbed.

Davey hadn’t come home.

A jolt of fear slices through her gut. Sarah sucks in a breath trying to keep calm. There must be an answer to this. Maybe she had realized Sarah was in there and slept in the other room instead. Joints aching, Sarah quickly rises from the bed, and rushes towards her room, hoping that it is early enough that Davey is still sleeping.

When she yanks open the door however, all she finds is Les tying his boots. He looks up startled by her sudden appearance,

“Where is Davey?”

“Um….h-she left early.” Sarah narrows her eyes at him in doubt and Les pretends not to notice. Davey hadn’t even come in to change clothes…probably. Alright, Sarah is a decently deep sleeper so that could be the case. Even if it is, Davey has been acting incredibly suspicious about this whole job.

Maybe she doesn’t even have a laundress job.

Les brushes past her in the doorway as Sarah turns this idea over in her mind. It would explain the weird or weirder behavior that Davey has been exhibiting. And the strange amount of money that Les brought home. Maybe she…maybe Davey decided to become a newsie with Les?

But then why wouldn’t she have said so?

It’s not as if there aren’t any girl newsies. That newsboy, Jack, must have something to do with whatever this is. He and Les must be part of this conspiracy that Davey has developed. A frown settles onto her face, hurt rising at the thought that her sister would rather trust a random boy that she’d only known for as little as a day or at most a few months, with this secret.

Sarah gets for the day, with a muddled mind, swarming with confusion and more and more wild ideas of what exactly Davey is hiding. Finishing buttoning her shirt, Sarah goes to the kitchen where Les is sure to be nibbling on something before, he heads out. Davey couldn’t even bother to accompany Les to the news gate, Sarah thinks with a sigh, even though Les had been excitedly chattering on about them going on strike! Which, from her knowledge of the recent headlines, is bound to be dangerous, even if it’s just a bunch of kids.

“I’m going with you to the gate today,” Sarah says as she walks into the cramped kitchen, glancing over at small table where Les is chewing on a piece of bread with jelly.

“No!” Les shouts around a mouthful of food, “I’m fine goin’ on my own.”

“I’m sure,” Sarah lies, “but you said a strike is organized for today. I wanted to see what exactly occurs at one.”

Les tries to convince her not to go, which only serves to encourage her to. When their mother greets them, she too agrees that Sarah should accompany Les for a bit. As there is not much that she needs Sarah’s help with today, only asking she run a few errands afterwards. Still, Les continues to argue with her as they get ready to leave and wave farewell to their mother.

“You don’t hafta come with me, its goin’ to be really boring.” Les slumps down the street next to her, face pulled into a frown. A jolt of guilt stabs her gut, and Sarah wonders if she should just give up on going with him. It might not be worth it if its actually upsetting Les this much.

“Yesterday you said it is going to be ‘incredible’.” Sarah points out mildly, ignoring how the feeling of jealousy and guilt warring inside has her gut twisted up in knots. The heat is already picking up, sticky and thick even though the sun is barely over the horizon. Only the labor workers are present, hurrying to work on some grand project.

Les huffs at her.

“Are you worried that Davey is going to be there?” Sarah finally asks, because the feeling of confusion and hurt is currently overwhelming the guilt, and she needs to know if any of her ideas are at all correct.

Her brother freezes, eyes wide. Ha, Sarah thinks as she turns to fully face Les, she is correct that Davey has been around the news gate and probably knows Jack. But then Les is shouting at her,

“Why would Davey be there?”

“I don’t know! That’s why I’m asking you.” Les’s face has turned angry, and he takes a step back. And then another as Sarah paces forwards hands spread in front of her, trying to calm her brother down.

“Stop being so nosy,” he snaps at her, then twists around and bolts. A wave of irritation and guilt rushes up and Sarah gives chase.

“Les, stop, please! I’m sorry-” but Les continues to run, ducking and swerving around corners, well acquainted with the backstreets and shortcuts unlike Sarah. By the time Sarah is turning onto the next street, Les has disappeared from view and she is breathing hard. Nothing makes sense right now and a few tears begin to fall. Embarrssed, Sarah moves to the side of the nearest building, so she is obscured from most of the passersbys.

Frustration, worry, hurt, and guilt all mingle in one gigantic, aching, puddle of discomfort. With a sniff, Sarah presses her hands to her eyes, inhaling the smell of factory smoke and fresh bread. There must be a bakery nearby, she realizes idly as she wills her eyes to stop crying.

“Are you ok?” a woman asks nervously. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Sarah lowers her hands and tries to figure out whoever is questioning her, embarrassment heating her face. When her eyes clear, Sarah inhales sharply, mind going blank. The woman is more of girl about her age, with gorgeous auburn hair that frames her face perfectly, highlighting her beautifully green-brown eyes. Time is forgotten as Sarah becomes breathless from the beauty of the girl.

“Oh-” the girl glances away, and Sarah tries to figure out how to breathe again, “here.”

The girl clumsily hands here a handkerchief, and Sarah goes faint as their hands touch. Her face has grown hotter and as she attempts to thank the mysterious, beautiful stranger, her tongue refuses to work. Instead, Sarah ducks her head in a nod, and dabs the remaining wetness from her face.

“Thank you,” she finally forces past her lips after a few moments of awkward silence, “I am better now.”

“That’s good,” the girl nods, “I thought that perhaps you had been injured.”

“Oh, no, I just lost sight of my brother.” Goodness, why did she say that?

“Do you need help looking for him?” The girl wears a worried look, gorgeous eyes widening in concern. Shaking her head, Sarah absently replies,

“He knows where he’s going, my siblings can just be frustrating sometimes.”

The girl smiles and Sarah’s heart somersaults, “sometimes I feel the same way about my coworkers.”

“You work?” Sarah is suddenly eager to learn as much as she can about whoever this stranger is. The question brightens the girl’s expression even more and a giddy feeling bubbles up in Sarah’s stomach.

“Yes, well I’m part-time right now, but I’m hoping to become a journalist.”

“Really? That sounds quite intense,” Sarah has never heard about a woman journalist. But then again, she has never seen someone so breathtaking either.

“It often is,” the girl looks away wistfully, “but I can’t stop myself from doing it. No matter what others say, my mind won’t let me quit.” She laughs lightly, turning back to face Sarah who suddenly feels weak in the knees.

“What newspaper do you work for?” Sarah asks faintly, fiddling with the handkerchief still in her hands.

“The Sun, I mostly write vaudeville reviews.”

“That sounds…incredible,” everything about this girl is incredible.

“It is, though my bosses are not eager to let write anything else. But I’m the one who is going to be writing about the strike that is happening.” The girl’s face falls slightly, “That’s actually where I was headed to before.”

“Oh, no, I’m so sorry if I made you late.”

“No,” the girl waves her hand, “I was running early anyways. It’s been quite pleasant getting to converse with someone besides a forty-year-old man.”

“Would you like to meet some other time?” Sarah asks in a rush. When she realizes what she asked, her face heats even more and heart sinks to the dirty cobbles below.

“Yes,” the girl replies quickly, expression brightening, “yes, would you want to meet at the park on Pine this afternoon?”

Sarah nods, mirroring the girl’s dazzling smile, “yes, that sounds delightful.”

“It was quite enjoyable meeting you,” the girl steps away, turning halfway towards the street, hair rippling like copper in the early morning sun.

“You too,” Sarah steps forward unconsciously, “good luck on writing your article.”

“Thank you, I hope you find your brother.” And then the wonderful, unknown girl is waving goodbye and leaving.

Goodness, Sarah presses the back of her hand to her cheek realizing she’s still holding the handkerchief and that for some odd, terrible reason, she hadn’t even thought to ask for the girl’s name! What on earth just happened?

Biting at her bottom lip, Sarah tries to bring her reeling mind to a halt. The giddiness, sickly sweet, has persisted from when she laid eyes upon the stranger and her face is still hot and Sarah knows it must be embarrassingly red. Inside, most of the earlier emotions have been buried by whatever nauseating tumbling her heart is currently doing. After taking a few moments to calm her breathing, Sarah pockets the handkerchief and decides to let Les be. She owes him that much, she knows, by making him so upset earlier. With that decision made, Sarah goes to complete the errands her mother had requested she make, another confusing encounter piled onto her mind.

At least this one involved a pretty girl.

------------

Yesterday I told myself that I should finish writing my newsie fic and then sat down and wrote this. I'd been wanting to write Sarah's perspective on Davey being trans and sneaking around and this is what I came up with. I'm not sure if Sarah is OOC, I just sorta created her character from my own ideas and experiences with siblings. I hope you enjoyed reading it ☺️

[mushiimune]

David loses a glove. Les happens to know whose pocket it's in.

[i-didnt-do-1t]

For you asking for writing prompts I’m a sucker for any Delancey redemption shit

Thanks! This was a fun one to work on, and there will be a part 2, it was starting to get a little long haha

the Delancey’s are awful and very fun to write, it’s interesting to try and work out how to write in terms of some kind of redemption while also keeping them in character- hopefully I achieved it - enjoy :)

In contrast to what most of the Newsies seemed to believe, Oscar didn’t spend most of his time skulking around in back alleys by the distribution centre.

He just happened to be taking a short cut through one back to the house to grab a pack of smokes when he came across the small body slumped against the wall.

It was the pool of blood around the person’s head, running through the cracks in the stone, and the small stature of the figure face down on the dirt street that made him stop.

Oscar approached the body slowly, and with the tip of his boot nudged the head to the side, just enough enough so he could see the face.

Shit.

“Hey Morris, c’mere a sec.”

“Jesus, first Weasel now you, can’t a guy just walk for one goddamn secon-“ he stopped short, a few feet behind Oscar, and a second later took a cautious step forward, tucking the rusted nail he’d found and had been using to dig dirt out from under his nails back in his pocket. “Ain’t that Jacob’s kid brother.”

“Yeah, I thought so.”

“Hard to tell when he’s not running his mouth.” Morris glanced to the kid, then met Oscar’s gaze again. He rolled his shoulder. “Do we give a shit?”

Oscar looked down again, and for a split second the kid’s body became someone more familiar, the dirty street their old kitchen floor, the pool of blood the one spilling between the tile cracks as it dripped from Morris’s nose.

Fuck.

Oscar frowned, elbowing his brother maybe a little sharply. “You want to go to prison for child murder?”

“What? No. But this weren’t us. And he ain’t dead.”

“You think any of them are gonna believe it weren’t us?”

Morris didn’t answer for second, refusing to look at him, frustration set in the harsh line of his clenched jaw. Another image of Morris, maybe age seven or eight sprawled on the ground, flashed behind Oscar’s eyelids when he blinked.

It took a second shove to the shoulder before Morris relented.

“Fine.” He said, shooting him a glare, and he nudged the kid, Les, (he was pretty sure) with his boot, waiting for some kind of reaction; satisfied when his eyelids twitched a little.

He paused for a moment and the silence was familiar to Oscar, that kind of quiet Morris went when he trying to work out if something was worth saying. Oscar didn’t interrupt, letting it settle over them till Morris got so uncomfortable he had to say whatever he was thinking. (Oscar knew this game. Had played it for years.)

“You think it was his da?”

Oscar shrugged. “Doubt it.”

Morris went quiet again. That particular quiet. Oscar watched as he stared at the kid for a few seconds and then glanced up at him before quickly averting his gaze again, tongue pushing at the inside of his cheek. “You reckon’ it was Davey?”

Oscar just raised an eyebrow.

Morris tilted his head to the side in something like a nod. “Right, course’ it wasn’t.”

“We should bring him back to ours.”

“Yeah m’sure Weasel ‘ill be thrilled.”

Oscar leaned down and grabbed the kids arm, he was light compared to the pallets of papers and easy to lift over his shoulder. He hoped that the kid wouldn’t drip blood onto his shirt but that was probably wishful thinking.

The kid’s hat lay soaking in his own blood on the street.

Oscar nodded toward it.

“You gonna help or what Morris.”

Morris’s jaw tensed again, but he grabbed the cap anyway, and shoved it in his pocket.

“If Weasel sees this it’s on your head.”

Oscar rolled his eyes, and readjusted the kid over his shoulder, “Ain’t it always.”

___

The flat was two minutes away, a beaten down ramshackle thing but it put a roof over their head and had two rooms which meant Weasel was in one while they got the other, and Weasel may have been a shit uncle to some degree but he mostly left them to their own devices when they weren’t in work, so they didn’t bother him either.

Les had been deposited on the bed in the corner, Oscar’s, given that Morris had adamantly refused to let the kid anywhere near his own.

“He ain’t bleeding over my stuff.”

“Like you ain’t got blood on a loada stuff. You get paid to kick the shit outta people.”

Morris threw his jacket at him. “Shut up. At least I’m paid for that.”

Maybe it was the way Oscar managed to dodge the jacket so it landed squarely on the kids chest instead that woke him up, or maybe their arguing. But regardless all at once a half-panicked, half-dazed, half-pained pair of eyes were blinking up at him.

Fuck.

Instead of dealing with it, he rounded on Morris. “You woke him up.”

Morris threw his hands up. “I thought you wanted ‘im awake!”

“Where am I?” Les’s voice sounded rough.

Oscar twisted his neck so harshly it cracked before he turned back around to face the kid. He looked bad, the blood from his nose had dried to a copper red colour, one that matched the dried blood on his split lips, and that really brought out the forming deep blues and blacks surrounding his left eye.

Then some spark passed through the kid’s eyes as he semi-pushed himself up onto his elbows, in fear or confusion Oscar wasn’t sure.

“The Delancey brothers.” The kid said, like he didn’t see them almost every goddamn morning.

For a second, the room was enveloped in an awkward silence, only broken by the sound of Morris’s footsteps across the creaking wooden floor, interrupted by the sound of his voice.

“Jesus fucking Christ. I’m going out for a smoke.”

He slammed the door behind him.

(Part 2 https://www.tumblr.com/i-didnt-do-1t/721242872730566656/continuation-of-the-delancey-writing-prompt-enjoy)

[nerdofthefandoms]

Could someone please write a fanfic of 1992 Newsies, where Jack and Davey are the main couple? Cause they had more chemistry (and screen time) than Jack and Sarah.

Not to mention the fact that when Jack turns around on the way to the train station with Roosevelt, the camera cuts to Davey first, not Sarah. (GIF not found)

Please and thank you 🙏

[hansrillow]

when the sun met the moon

“Oh, you are such a younger sibling, I knew it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You work at Claire’s. Only people with the energy level of younger siblings work at Claire’s.”

“That feels offensive.”

David rolled his eyes. “It’s an observation.”

or: david works at hot topic and jack works at claire’s

it’s me, putting off working on my WIP :)

read it on ao3

[baura-bear]

Never asking @sizzleitupwithmaria for advice on my writing

[frogmanfae]

Okay so I'm currently working on a college au Newsies fic (Javid) inspired by this post in which Davey is married to Oscar Delancey, Oscar is (predictably) abusive, and Davey ends up cheating on him with his best good friend Jack Kelly. I recently finished writing a scene that just feels far too chaotic to properly mesh with the rest of the story and there is no making it any less chaotic, so here it is as a stand alone drabble. I might try to salvage bits and pieces of it, but it just doesn't work as it's written. This is before Davey cheats and he is currently trying to convince himself and everyone else that he is happy in his relationship.

THIS IS COMPLETELY UNEDITED

IT HAS NOT BEEN CHECKED FOR SPELLING, GRAMMAR, WORD CHOICE, OR ANYTHING ELSE

THIS IS JUST ME TYPING AWAY WITH THE SOLE INTENTION OF JUST GETTING SOMETHING STARTED FOR LATER REVIEW

PLEASE KEEP THAT IN MIND AND DO NOT BASE YOUR EXPECTATIONS OF MY WRITING ON THIS IT IS FAR FROM MY BEST WORK

Below the cut

Ping

Davy stiffens. He didn't tell Oscar he wouldn't be home because he thought he would be back and asleep before Oscar came back. This couldn't be him, it's only seven thirty. No way is he home-

"Oh, it's my sister." Relief washes through him. "My little brother wants to video chat." He glances over at Jack. "You in?"

"In what?" Jack pushes himself to a sitting position.

"Do you want to call my siblings? If not I can always call them tomorrow-"

"No way man I'm so in!" He smiles and takes the blanket he was laying on and wraps it around his upper body. "You wanna go inside for better lighting?"

"Nah, I like it up here." Davey smiles, typing a quick response to Sarah. "They can see fine enough... Probably." He moves so he's sitting next to Jack and nudges him so he can fit under the blanket he has wrapped around his shoulders. They're really close, but it's just for warmth. Of course it is. Warmth and nothing else. So what if the way Jack's body presses against his own makes his head swim just a little bit? He's on a rooftop of a building in New York City, of course he's bound to get a little bit of vertigo. The blanket is small and Jack is warm. It only makes sense to be so close together in the chill of late November after dark.

Davey hesitates for a moment before pressing the call button. "Please don't flirt with my sister."

"What do you take me for, a strumpet?"

Davey blinks. "Yes."

"Yeah that's fair." Jack nods. "You have my word, I don't wanna make 'er uncomfortable or nothin."

"Thank you." Davey smiles as he hits the call button, almost immediately being connected to his siblings.

"Hi David!" Sarah smiles into the camera.

"Where the hell are you?"

"Leshem!" Davey scolds. "Sarah what have you been teaching him?"

"It's not me! I promise!" Sarah holds her hands up. "He asked a good question, though. Where are you? It's so dark that it looks like there are two of you."

"Oh there are two of us." Davey leans closer into Jack's body. For warmth. "This is Jack."

"Howdy!"

"He likes cowboys."

"Love me some wild wild west!" Jack fakes a country accent, making Davey snort.

"Oh so that's the guy who's totally upped your mood?" Sarah teases.

"Shut up he has not!" Davey barks, thankful for the darkness concealing the pink dusting on his face.

"Ouch!" Jack leans away from Davey, effectively taking away both the heat of his body and the blanket.

"Oh my god no!" Davey whines. "No come back! It's too cold!"

"Well clearly if I don't mean nothin to ya-" Jack smirks, barely visible in the lack of illumination.

"No! No you mean the world to me! I take it back!" He laughs, reaching put to grab the blanket.

Jack moves it out of the way. "I'm deeply hurt, Dave."

"Jackie!" He pouts, still smiling. "Come on! I'm sorry! I'm gonna freeze to death!"

"Ugh you're so dramatic." Jack lifts the blanket to wrap it around Davey's shoulders and pull him closer to him anyway. "You're lucky I have a heart."

Davey just about melts into Jack's side, smiling up at him. "Yeah, I am." He focuses back on the screen in his hand. "How have you guys been?"

"Oh my god Sarah has been such a bitch lately!" Les whines.

"Leshem! She's taking care of you! Be nice!" Davey scolds.

"No, he's right I've definitely been a bitch." Sarah nods. "I'm just really tired with midterms and finals and cooking and-"

"And Katherine!" Les shouts.

"Katherine?" Davey raises his eyebrow, though not visible.

"Yeah you remember that girl that she-" Sarah puts her hand over Les's mouth.

"Oh my god, Sarah! You have to tell me these things! I'm your twin! It's like-" Davey hesitates, looking for the right term. "I don't know! The law! Or something!"

"Nothing has happened!" Sarah assures.

Les breaks free from her grasp. "That's not true! I saw them kissing!"

Davey gasps, Sarah waves her hands around. "No no it's not like that! I mean- okay yeah we kissed like one time!"

"I told you about every single time I did anything with Oscar in high school!"

"That's different- I... No that's totally different! Jack do you have a twin?"

"Uhh... Kinda? I got a brother the same age as me but-"

"Good enough. You can agree that kissing someone and not saying anything to your brother is different than having sex and not saying anything?"

"Oh that's not even fair!" Davey gasps. "I told you about our first like twenty kisses too!"

"Gross!" Les exclaims, earning a small shove from Sarah.

"You can go into the other room until we switch topics." She steers him away, knowing full well he'll still listen in.

"I don't tell Crutch when I have sex." Jack contributes. "Just for the record."

"Okay but the first time you have sex with someone you've been crushing on for a while?"

"Nah. That hasn't ever happened to me. My only serious relationship was with this girl in ninth grade and we never made it that far. The only people I've actually really liked since then have been unavailable in some way."

"What about your first first time then?"

"I didn't even know my brother yet. We didn't meet til two or three years after I lost the card."

"You guys are talking about this way too comfortably for two people who have never met." Davey comments.

"Well you hear all about my experiences nowadays, she looks a little too much like you, I guess." Jack smiles.

"Yeah I hear about way more than I'd prefer." Davey shudders.

"Oh, Davey! You don't mean that! You love hearin about when I-"

"Ahhh I'm not listening! I can't hear you!" He curls further into Jack's side in an attempt to muffle the sound since he can't cover his ears and hold the phone at the same time.

"Davey!" Jack laughs.

"Davey?" Sarah arches an eyebrow. "What happened to only letting people call you David or else?"

"Uh..."

"Oh?" Jack gasps. "Ooh! Am I special? Do I get special nickname privileges, Dave?"

"No! You just wouldn't stop calling me that when I told you not to!"

"Oh but you introduced yourself to Buttons as Davey!" Jack bellows, way too excited about this. "Oh this is great."

"Sarah why did you have to say anything?" Davey groans.

"You didn't even let Oscar call you Dave that's why!"

"Oh!" Jack gasps. "Oh I've got privileges even the husband don't got!"

"Your grammar makes me want to jump off of this roof."

"You're on a roof?" Les nearly explodes. Davey isn't sure how long he's been there.

"Why are you on a roof?" Sarah questions.

"Because it's fun?" Davey says.

"That's it? Just because it's fun?" Davey can't quite find the words to describe her expression.

"Since when do you do anything just for fun?" Les asks so seriously that it almost hurts.

"Hey!" Davey frowns. "I'm fun!"

"Yeah and Les is allowed to stay up past ten." Sarah rolls her eyes.

"Ouch!" He leans into Jack's chest. "I'm fun, aren't I, Jackie?"

"Sure are, I don't know what they're talkin about." He smiles down at Davey.

Davey frowns more. "The sarcastic tone you're using wounds me."

[s3iz3-th3-fck1ng-d4y]

Les Jacobs

Gryffindor

Muggleborn 

Has a frog called Hoppity (He named it at 8, give him a break)

Straight 

He/Him

Tries to sneak into the Ravenclaw common room when he wants advice from David

David has repeatedly told him he can’t do this

Flirts with every girl he meets, Fails each time

[albertsbootayyy]

I just came up with the terrible idea to give my oc in my oc x albert dasilva fanfiction “Glass” as her Newsies name