#only to get chased off by one of the delanceys

[i-didnt-do-1t]

Newsies Goil

“Dat goil over there s called Emma.” Jack says pointing her out to Racetrack.

The newsie goil was far better than that bitch Sarah, who fooled CowBoy and then cheated on him.

“I’s love you.” Emma said and Jack smiled at her.

“I love that you’se a Newsie Goil. Dat’s so much better than Sarah. I’s love you too.”

Too show his love, Jack begins to serenade her.

“Wow.” She says. “I never knew you could play the piano.

“I’m full of surprises.” Jack says back with a wink. “Did you know that I have enough money for a wedding. You can get a dress and be the prettiest goil there.”

“I don’t wanna wear a dress.” She says frowning. “Those are so girly.”

Jack laughs and keeps singing Jar of Hearts by Christina Perri.

“Yous is right bout dat.” He says. “That’s like you wearing make up.”

They both laugh at his joke as they both know she doesn’t wear make up like Sarah to try and impress the boys. Her face is naturally pale and flawless with her green eyes bright even with no mascara.

She watches intensely as Jack keeps playing the piano. He must still be sad about Sarah cheating on him with Blink and Skittery two separate times she thinks, because how much emotion he puts into the song as his eyes tear up.

Tears start to stream down his cheeks as he sings about ice in her soul and Emma wants to hug him.

Her raven black hair covers her face as she looks down. She likes to stand like this so no one can see how ugly she is although she always has boys chasing her. She doesn’t understand why.

Jack finishes his song and she doesn’t look up.

“I won’t cheat on you like dat bitch Sarah.”

“I trust you.” Jack says and they kiss.

Jack goes home to tell davey and the other boys that he’s in love.

Emma is about to leave to but then she spots a man in the corner. One she never thought she’d see again.

Morris Delancey. A bully of the newsies.

She quickly tucked her hair under her hat to disguise herself as a boy again like she did for a year, it always helped her sell the most papers when she pretended to be a boy, especially because there were no goil newsies.

she was surprised when Morris started to cry.

“What’s wrong.” She asked trying to keep her voice low to disguise she was a girl, it was difficult because her long eyelashes could give her away so she had to disguise everything good.

“I don’t need no help from a newsie.” Morris says but his eyes are sad.

She hates him for hurting her friends but she feels bad for him also.

She decides to help him because if she wanted to she could beat him in a fight. She would take the chance at talk to him.

She did it last week when he had made a comment at Jack, the love of her life. She had punched his r face and broke his nose and was too fast for him.

“Even delanceys can get sad.” She says as comfort and he nods. “What’s wrong.”

“Ise in love with the prettiest girl I ever seen with raven black hair and green eyes. She’s 4 ft 5 inches but she disappeared before I could tell her I love her.”

Emma gasps. There’s no way he can be talking about her can he??

But she is that short she thinks. She always needs Mush’s help to climb into her bunk and reach things cause she’s too tiny.

It’s hard being the only news goil.

——-

Pops head up from behind walls

Waves. Hi guys sorry it’s been a few months-

Spot: a few months! Dat ain’t good enough goil the people was waiting

Me: I knowwwww

Didn’t watch newsies for a bit

Jack, looking offended but ripped: I thought you loved me

(My eyes tear up) ignore him!!

Anyway I’m back in newsies now and the next chapter is comingsooooon

Spot: (rolls his eyes)

Me: hey! Don’t roll your eyes at me! I could kill you off.

(Takes deep breath and smooths out shirt)

*anyway* should be back with the next update soon!!

Rawr XD (rolls out on mini convertible)

[sparkedblaze]

Hi here's all my favorite things about Livesies as I watch it

92sies

This is fsfs gonna be part 1 of 2 or 3

T/W violence, cursing, ets

The Overture. It plays all these semi-familiar tunes from 92sies with a little funky freshness to it and I love it sm

THE FUCKING PROJECTIONS AHAHHHHH

CRUTCHIE BEING THE ONLY OTHER NEWSIE (BESIDES ALBERT) WITH A BACKWARDS HAT

"I ain't been walkin' so good" 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

"Doyawannabustyaothalegtoo?!" "Uh.. no I wanna go down."

"Ya seein' stars alright."

Their accents and over acting are amazing

A big life in a small town SUCKS Jackson Kelly

Heh heh

*waves hand in front of Crutchie's eyes*

CRUTCHIE ACTUALLY CLOSING HIS EYES AND HIS LIL SMILE WHILE HE'S IMAGINING SANTA FE

DID I MENTION THE PROJECTIONS

yA RIDe it inStyLE FEACHA ME RIDIN IN STILE

"WORK THE LAND CHASE THE SUN SWIM THE W H O L E R I O G R A N D E JUST FOR FUUUUN"

"WATCH ME STAND😄 Watch me run 😀 🙁"

"hey HEY"

THE IDEA THAT THE PROLOGUE IS ACTUALLY A PROLOGUE I THINK IT'S @raggedy-albert 'S HC

RACETRACK MOTHERFUCKING HIGGINS

ALBERT FUCKING DASILVA

"A leg of lamb 🥰"

R A L B E R T

FINCH

BEN COOK SKY FLAHERTY IAIN YOUNG JOSH BURRAGE

MUSH'S HOP LOOKING FOR HIS HAT

MIKE AND IKE TRADING HATS

CRUTCHIE SHINING HIS CRUTCH

BUTTONS' HAND MOVEMENT ON 'FISHES'

JACK NUDGING SMALLS ON 'FISHES'

IAIN YOUNG'S LIL RAT BOY FACE

'Step aside Romeo nothin more concerns u here'

Poisonally

Kath's sass

Darcy pretending he's straight

"I'M CRUSHED"

"Gonna rain?" "Uuuuhhhhhh..... No rain oh-ho partlycloudyclearbyevenin"

"BLIND" "AND MUTE" "AND DEAD"

Jack taking Finch's slingshot

Flip

Tommy's lil hops

"I LIKES LIVIN CHANCEY"

ELMER AND BUTTONS TAKING OFF THEIR HATS WHEN THE NUNS SHOW UP

"I dunno Sister, but it's bound to rain soon'a o' lat'a!"😃

BEN COOK

ANTHONY ZAS

NICK MASSON

JOSH BURRAGE

SKY FLAHERTY

IAIN YOUNG

CHAZ WOLCOTT

AND ALL THE OTHERS WHO I DON'T REMEMBER THE NAMES OF THE ACTORS

Everyone hopping to give their cups back

"I DO TOOOOO SO IT MUST ME TRUUUUUE WHAT A SWITCH, SOON WE'LL ALL BE RICH DON'T KNOW A BETTER WAY TO MAKE A NEWSIES DAYYY"

Their entire lil dancey dance right here

Elmer offended at being whacked with hat

"GOTAFEELINBOUTAHEADLINEISMELLSMEAHEADLINEPAPESAREGONNASELLLIKEWEWASGIVINEMAWAYBETCHADINNERITSADOOZYBOUTAPISTOLPACKINFLOOZYDONTKNOWANYBETTERWAYTOMAKEANEWSIESDAYIWASSTAKINOUTTHECIRCUSANDTHENSOMEONESAIDTHATCONEYSREALLYHOTBUTWHENIGOTTHERETHEREWASSPOTWITHALLHISCRONIESYOIMGONNATAKEWHATLITTLEDOUGHIGOTANDPLAYTHEPONIESWEATLEASTDESERVESAHEADLINEFORTHEHOURSTHATTHEYWORKUSJEEZIBETIFIJUSTSTAYEDALITTLELONGERATTHECIRCUS"

Finch finger guns

Jack taking Finch's hat

Smalls diving under Finch's leg

Finch's face right before they say 'yeah!'

Whatever Al's face is doing ever

*disappointment*

Romeo waving like the little bean he is

"WATCH IT"

"It's honest woik"

"AINCHA FADDA ONE O THA STRIKAS"

Albert and Racer

Ralbert

Whack whack

The Delanceys running into each other

Morris hopping from steps

Everyone getting their bags

ALBERT PUT YOUR FUCKING HAT ON

Big smiles everyone, we just finished the first big number Race: :O

Davey trying to slow Les

"I'll call ya sweetheart if you spot me 50 papes"

"I'M NEW TOO"

Albert, to Jojo: Yo check this shit out. Watch what I'm about to do to this bitch "YOU HAVE A VERRRRY INTERESTING FACE. EVER THOUGHT ABOUT GETTIN' INTO MOVIN' PITCHAS?!"

"BUY A TICKET THEY LET ANYONE IN"

*Does not pay*

Everyone's face when they laugh at Jack making fun of Oscar

"The faymus Jack Kelly"

Ben Cook's dumbass socks

Jack's "holy fuck he can do math" face

Specs laughing at Jack's reaction to Les knowing math

"That's disgusting"

W i b b l e

Specs never using stairs properly

Albert riding in on Pulitzer's desk

FOOTBALL? *whack* VIOLENT? *whack*

"Guess what? He got elected." *runs*

Nunzio.

My roommate and I accidentally mashing cut and slit like twice and so now we say slut instead of either

"-like an army that's marching to war." I mean... He wasn't wrong

Has anyone noticed how similar Hannah and Kath look?

BIG STEP BIG STEP BIG STEP

"buy a pape from a poor orphan boy" *cough cough*

"BORN TO THE BREED"

"THIS IS SO MUCH BETTER THAN SCHOOL" "This kid"

Racetrack hawkin in the background and bolting when Snyder comes

"Doesn't everyone?"

ALL THE CONTINUITY ERRORS IN MEDDA'S THEATER. THE BOYS GOING FROM NEWSIES TO FAKE MUSTACHE MEN AND BACK

LOVEY DOVEY BABY PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND

Jack saying pocket with the same intensity that Draco Malfoy says Potter

MEDDA FUCKING LARKIN

"The only thing I own is the mortgage"

"ARE YOU BLIND SHE GOT NO CLOTHES ON"

The look Jack and Davey share when Medda says she knows the governor

"YOU PICTURED THAT?!"

"Take it easy, it's a bunch of trees."

"Jeez! I never knew no one with a aptitude!"

"I AM?! HOW 'M I DOIN'?!"

'I'm better than you' the song

Jack's lil figure 8 dance with just his head

"And prayers from the Pope"

Devin Lewis as Jack for like two scenes.

"AND. MY. BANK."

Watching Jack recognize Katherine

"Why don't you go find out?" 👀

"You want I should lock the door"

"Doin what?"

It's hard to like a whole lot about the scenes where they're flirting bc Kath is so outwardly uncomfy with it

And also they're both simps for Jacobses

*two finger point*

"sOrry mIss mEddA"

Jack's hesitation before he starts singing

"Girls are nice, once or twice, til I find someone new" You bisexual pining bitch

Does anyone know who does the actual sketch?

T H E P R O J E C T I O N

"-and you lie like a rug!"

"What are you doing?!"

"Hey-hey quiet down there's a show goin' on!"

"Shhhhhhhhh"

"Everr"

HAT TIP AND SMIRK AS JACK IS CLIMBING DOWN

MIKE AND IKE GIVING OFF THE MAJOREST SIBLING EVERGY

"Sirens is like lullabies to me."

DELANCEY DEVASTATION AT "they've got a mother" THEY'RE SO TRASH AND HURT I LOVE THEM

"He traded her for a box o' cigars!" "HEY THEY WAS CORONAS"

"Ain't we the hoi polloi!"

"Ask me after they put up the headline"

"Is that news?" "ITISTOME"

Romeo. R O M E O

"I ain't payin' no sixty."

DEUS SPECS MACHINA

BAMBAM "C'mere fellas"

Henry's pose as he says "AIN'T WE GOT NO RIGHTS?!"

IK THAT EVERYONE SAYS TOMMY LOOKS DOWN BC HE'S CONFUSED WHEN JACK SAYS 'WOULD YOU KEEP YOUR SHIRT ON' BC HE'S WEARING A SHIRT YADDA YADDA BUT HE'S NOT THAT'S HIS UNDERSHIRT. SO HE'S CONFUSED BC HIS SHIRT IS ALREADY OFF. BACK IN THOSE TIMES BEING IN JUST YOUR UNDERSHIRT, YOU MAY AS WELL HAVE NO SHIRT. THX FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK

LES SHOVING PEOPLE

Crutchie desperately trying to hop to keep up

Jojo and Elmer.

"Hey Jack you still thinkin?" "Sure he is. Can't ya smell smoke?"

(I'm out of character limits so this is part 1)

[burtonsdoodles]

MORE RANDOM NEWSIES NOTES… PART THREE

Having sat in Brooklyn, I now 100% understand what they mean when they say seize the day really takes it out of them - you can see the sweat dripping, hear the huffs of breath and there were genuine tears falling on a number of faces as they tried to hold it together for the picture… though granted those tears could have been more to do with it being the final OGs performance… 🤷‍♀️ but no matter the reason, it was incredible and I have a whole new appreciation for it now… phenomenal!

Speaking of seize the day - I am obsessed with the changes - the sound of the sirens coming in as things heat up - adding the roll call (did anyone who was at the last OG show catch the names Jordan and Zach used - I didn’t and I’m just curious.) Though my absolute favourite section is when things slow down and turn into a bit of an Irish jig (no clue if that’s actually an accurate way of describing it but that’s what I’m going with). I love it so much - it gets me every time! Whoever’s decision it was to do that deserves ALL the gold stars!!!

Now we need to talk about Josh Barnett as Race because… PERFECTION!! While I love bens race and livesies in general is incredible - it’s the thing which started it all… but I have really gotten to love the original film and the grit it has - something that wasn't transferred into the Broadway show - but this uk production really feels as inspired by it as it is its Broadway predecessor… but once again I digress, Josh’s race feels like he could have been plucked from the streets of 92sies - he has that same grit and wit of max casellas race who commands his own respect amongst the streets separate from Jack… I think I’ve said this in another post but it’s cool so I’m saying it again, one of my favourite changes is that Jack isn’t the one who starts the show - race is - he’s the one who kicks everything off and calls all the other newsies to order, the action doesn’t start without his say so — and I love that!

Now to the thing I noticed on my last visit which was really interesting — when it comes to the day of the strike and davey and Jack are trying to make out that everything is fine even though barely anyone has shown up and race and finch are questioning everything and then they bring up spot conlon and daveys like “well if you see spot conlon then they’re with us”… race looked like he was about to absolutely thump davey for that - “why you litt—! ⬇️

Scratch that - Saw it again last night and race full on went for him - “why you son of a b—!” - only being stopped by Jack - race was fuming, as the scene went on and the others are talking, race is at the gate with davey and got right up in his face to say something to him - I didn’t actually catch what it was - but it was along the lines of “don’t ever speak to me like that again”… it might not have been that but whatever it was it was intense and I am now obsessed with this moment and absolutely love seeing an angrier/offended side to race

OH MY GOD I now fully understand why people rave about finch so much - he is a fascinating character to watch! Apparently Woodside is a prime finch spotting location… he actually did the bit albert usually does which is holding crutchie whilst Jack has the crutch… but he did not look happy to be doing it - the face he had as he held onto crutchies hand and Jack messed with the delanceys was the picture of - I don’t want to be a part of this! I don’t want to be a part of this! I don’t want to be a part of this! Jack stop causing trouble! As Jack was being chased finch literally called out to him - “you’re an idiot!” And from that point on finch was all I was watching throughout the rest of the show… (I might go into this more in another post)

Also I am now enamoured by the bond between finch and Mike, they had a load of little moments together and they were really cute… the main one that’s stuck with me is when Jacobi hands out the cups of water, Mike and finch are sharing a table, Mike gets the water but then shares it with finch, and there was a moment when finch really tentatively put his hand on mikes arm/shoulder when they’re talking about potentially being on the front page… it was just such a soft moment unlike most of the other who would do the same things but with much more gusto and enthusiastic weight… I just found it really sweet… mikes another one I’ve never really paid much attention to so have never really had any reference as to his character personality - but I see now that he’s one of the more guarded ones, wary of causing too much of a stir, keeps to the back but always listening… he actually goes really well with jittery mr. finch

Jack and Katherine kiss and all the newsies catch on… splasher: it’s about time

The delanceys give Jack a beating back stage before pushing him towards the paper press

Still more to come…

PART ONE | PART TWO

[thefactsofthematter]

delanceys. what is their psychology. why are they the way they are. why do they wanna punch down on those barely a peg below them on the class ladder. why do they hate jack specifically. go go go -@jack-kellys

ty @jack-kellys for enabling me!! i’ll lay down some backstory thoughts here, and i got another ask where i’ll get into my thoughts abt their personalities n stuff!!

okay here we go:

- so. they’re the only people jack knows who spent longer in the refuge than he did. they were already in there the first time he got put in, and didn’t get out until after his second stint there, when wiesel finally came to get them (claiming to be their long-lost uncle, when he really asked snyder if he could take a couple kids to put to work at the newspaper, and was given 14 year old oscar and 12 year old morris just to get them out of the way).

- spending a good chunk of their formative years in jail severely fucked up their worldview and ways of thinking. their dad dropped them off himself, not wanting anything to do with them after their mom died, and they’ve only had each other ever since.

- they spent over 3 years in there, surviving by keeping to themselves and never starting fights, only finishing them. they watched jack constantly mouth off at the guards and go kicking and screaming whenever he got dragged out of the room for some kind of punishment - and they resented him for it, bc the guards would often be much more aggressive and mean after incidents like that. jack kelly came into the refuge, made things worse for everyone, and then found some clever way to sneak out… TWICE. it was infuriating.

- so they finally got out, and started their new job at the world, only to find out that jack fucking kelly was a newsie now, and a popular one at that. he had the same smart mouth that got him in trouble in the refuge, but all it did out here was make the other kids laugh - and he often put it to use against oscar and morris, with cutting comments and mean jokes that felt unwarranted at first, pushing them to really start bullying jack and the newsies in return.

- their job at the newspaper is miserable, but there’s no escaping it - they spend long days counting and bundling papers, and then they have to stand there and hand them out to the newsies, who just seem like they have so much fun. those kids live with their friends in the lodging house, and they roam the streets all day, and they’re always laughing and joking… while oscar and morris share a tiny bedroom at wiesel’s place, and don’t often get to be around anyone other than each other. they’re paid only in room and board - if they were to try to run away and leave the job, they’d be homeless and penniless, with both wiesel and snyder out to chase them down.

- a detail i’m gonna elaborate on eventually is that i think oscar, as the older brother, is much angrier than morris is. his entire life has been about keeping morris safe… something he’s largely failed at. no matter what he does, he’s forced to see his brother scared and hurt and exhausted and beaten-down, practically all the time. morris, while just as big and strong as his brother, is scared of wiesel, scared of snyder, sometimes even scared of oscar’s bad moods and temper, meaning all of oscar’s efforts to protect him typically backfire and make things worse.

- so they’re angry. they punch down because that’s all that’s ever been done to them. they don���t care about anyone other than each other, and they resent jack and the newsies for a life that looks better than their own isolated one, despite knowing that it’s just as hard out there for them. the older they get, the more people they start to take their rage out on - like beating up on trolley strikers, which is the only type of extra work wiesel allows them to pick up in the evenings, or doing snyder’s dirty work and dragging kids to the refuge as some kind of revenge for everything they’ve gone through.

- they suck, right? but in their situation, who wouldn’t? it’s hard to feel bad for them, given how cruel they are in canon, but it’s definitely interesting to take a look at where they might’ve come from. these poor fellas just never managed to catch a break, and it ruined them :(

[professorspork]

How did you decide on the roles you did for: Emerald, Mercury, Neon, Robyn, Oscar, Sun, Maria?

OOH LOVE THIS QUESTION

but ough this got long so UNDER THE CUT

Em and Merc

This one was a pretty intuitive one for me. In Newsies, the Delanceys are a matched set pair of pain-in-the-ass bruisers, and their role seemed like the perfect launching point for whatever I wanted to do with the murder kids. the only real question was whether only Em or both of them would get a face turn, as in Newsies neither do and so far in canon only one has. I knew from early that it would be a great opportunity if I included Yang getting framed for Merc's leg, and I knew from early on that Emerald would "catch" them during the climactic printing of the manifesto and choose to let them go. em and merc being Yang's only friends while she scabbed was more of a game time decision that unfolded organically.

Neon

this took some time to arrive at!

my first instinct for who would fill the Spot Conlon role was Nora (as evidenced by the fact that she still gets his dialogue sometimes). this probably could have worked if i'd insisted on it, but I needed Nora too much to be Racetrack and serve as Yang's Best Friend/The Newsie We Know Best to cut her off from the main story like that. giving Nora the "no one hates Neon, she's just a little unhinged" so Blake could be like COMING FROM *YOU,* THOUGH? mostly satisfied that first gut instinct.

the next person I considered for the Spot role was Coco, because of that effortless cool and intimidation factor, but... if I couldn't make myself believe in Pyrrha being a street urchin newsie, there was just NO WAY I could pull it off for Coco. her the rich girl energy is just too strong.

only then did I land on Neon as the next candidate, because she and Yang had that antagonistic relationship and it would be both a) entirely believable for her to be a crater kid and b) shore up the Faunus storyline in foundational ways. even though in hindsight she's kind of the ONLY choice, I resisted it at first because Neon's dialogue felt like a big challenge for me... that sort of gleeful negging and lowkey sexual harassment isn't exactly in my usual wheelhouse. realizing I could translate that combative stance into an entirely justifiable hostility towards humans was the key that made it click, and then she sort of exploded in importance when I was like OH she's my truth to power who gets to say the uncomfortable thing that everyone needs to hear.

Robyn

This one also came with a bit of time and development. someone had to be the Deus Ex Teddy Roosevelt, and Robyn was an obvious candidate... but the other one was Ghira.

(this goes on a bit of a tangent but I think you'll forgive me, lol)

figuring out Blake's (and the White Fang's) placement in the story took some doing. in Newsies, David is new to hawking but not new to New York; the main antagonist outside Pulitzer is Snyder, the warden of the juvenile hall. I knew that Adam's pursuit of Blake had to fill that role narratively, but my initial thoughts were to have a higher level of fidelity to Newsies, too-- that Clover would also be chasing Blake because she's wanted for something Adam did, maybe, and the two would play off each other. in that version, everything was thus very local-- Blake was from Mantle just like the rest of the characters are, and her separation from her family was an estrangement without that profound physical distance.

when I tried to game that out over the long-term of the story, however, having her parents so close by just felt too brain-bending; it gave Blake an escape hatch when I needed her to not have one. even then, I considered Blake writing a letter to her family and Ghira showing up in answer as a potential Teddy solution, but it just didn't hit right.

having given up on Ghira, I turned back to Robyn, and then when I gave her full consideration I realized that I could take the election storyline from RWBY and use it as the inciting incident for the price hike, which would nicely dovetail the two canons and hopefully strengthen both. from there, it was much more natural.

Oscar

This one was pure necessity. Anyone i COULD justify using in the union inner circle, I wanted to, and Oscar-- by virtue of being a conniving, clever, mercenary thinker in canon both for Ozpin-related and crucially not-Ozpin-related reasons, was SUPER useful to me.

creating that inner union core so that way I could get the fic's political and plot-related thinking out through (relatively organic) dialogue instead of in more cumbersome ways was really key. if you go back and read all their conversations, you'll see patterns emerge as they always take on the same roles: Oscar is a rational thinker and an Ideas Guy; Nora's completely gung-ho; Ren is supportive but is also the first to fold when he feels like they've failed; Jaune is the one who asks the questions that keep the conversation going (with BRNZ also doing that or being nay-sayers if they're around). Velvet, of course, was crucial for getting a Faunus voice in the inner circle while Blake was stealth, but even more crucial because she's a big-picture thinker and a compromise-oriented person who could find bridges between two seemingly-incompatible thoughts.

which is a long way of saying Oscar is Oscar so he could voice the Ruby thoughts in the chapters before Yang lets Ruby participate.

Sun

I am ashamed to admit it, but for a long time Sun was not going to be in this story, and in fact I was making a WHOLE BIG POINT of Sun not being in the story.

this is sort of related to the Ghira of it all; I always knew that Blake would need to go somewhere after she ran from the big confrontation where everything went wrong, but at first I wanted her to be able to get back to her parents, like in canon. when I realized that would be a logistical impossibility (having Blake leave the continent mid-strike just wouldn't fly), I didn't know WHAT I was going to do with the Blake Alone chapter.

at first, I swore to myself I wouldn't use Sun in that role because like... the whole point of Sun is that he's Blake's friend first and he makes her feel less alone. I told myself this meant he couldn't be in the Blake Alone chapter because the whole point of it is she's ALONE, and if that were true then I certainly couldn't let him be in the union main friend group squad; the point of them is that they're Yang's Friends that Blake gets to know through her, and if I give Blake more true supports that aren't Yang it gets in the way of the love story as necessitated by this plot outline. which meant NO SUN, SORRY.

and then I thought of that "holy shit you're Blake Belladonna, should I bow?" meet cute and I was like... okay maybe a little Sun.

luckily for both Blake and the story as a whole, by the time i GOT to the Blake Alone chapter it had become very clear to me that it wouldn't be Blake Alone at all-- that it would be Blake With Community, and it would be a healing and rising arc to balance Yang's sharp fall into depression. they couldn't BOTH be miserable or else the story would grind to a halt. and so Sun got to shine (pun intended).

Maria

I'm still a little bummed I wasn't able to find more of a use for Maria than I did; Tukson HAD to be Tukson for book reasons, and Pietro HAD to be the head of the lodging house for Mercury reasons, and the plot just couldn't carry more mentor-types in expanded roles. so I gave Maria ownership of the only other Third Space in the story, even though that meant we didn't see much of her after the beginning.

[lmelodymusicl]

Melody’s Movie Reviews #1: Newsies (1992)

Hey guys. Welcome to the very first post of Melody’s Movie Reviews.

Today, I’m going to be reviewing Newsies (1992). Yes, the original movie version with Christian Bale. I watched for the first time at the beginning of the year and I enjoyed it. And then, I watched it again just four months ago

Here were my exact thoughts while watching Newsies (1992):

Hearing Max Casella’s voice at the opening really made me excited. 

I felt so bad for all these little boys sleeping on top of the statue without any shoes on their feet.  It was pretty heartbreaking.

Boots is literally me when I don’t want to get up. All the boys are basically a mood for anyone who isn’t a morning person.

Me and my mom were watching this, and she was disgusted at the fact that Snitch had his feet on Itey’s face, and they were both dirty. 

Christian Bale is adorable in this scene. 

And of course, Snipeshooter takes Racetrack’s cigars for no reason. Ugh! Snipeshooter always gets on my nerves. No wonder he’s my least favorite!

Carrying The Banner starts playing and I’m loving every second of it. The choreography and the chemistry with the boys. It’s so obvious that all the boys vibed together in real life off-set, and that’s one of the thing I love about this movie. 

Oh, geez, it’s those Delancey brothers. And they go picking on Snipeshooter for no reason. Snipeshooter isn’t my favorite, but he still doesn’t deserve it. 

Racetrack really said “only I'm allowed to pick on Snipeshooter.”

Jack’s play-fight with the Delanceys is very entertaining to see. A

In this scene, we’re introduced to Davey and Les. I can already tell that I’m going to like this. 

I love how these boys mock Wiesel by calling him Weasel.I would do the same thing.

Les is sooo cute when he sits next to Jack! And their interactions are really sweet!

I like how David doesn’t want anything to do with Jack at first, but Les instantly connects with him. Also, the part where Jack squishes his face is so cute!

Instantly as the newsies sell their papers, Pulitzer comes on the scene.

Even Seitz has more common sense in his little finger than Pulitzer and his cronies combined. 

Oh, No! Here comes big jerk Snyder the Spider. My mom didn’t know why he was chasing Jack, so I had to explain it to her halfway.

Ann-Margaret is amazing as Medda. And I loved her interaction with Les. It’s so adorable! 

Here’s where we meet the Jacobs family. I love how everyone takes a liking to Jack. And I especially love how he takes a liking to Sarah from the very beginning. Les singing “Lovey-Dovey Baby” in his sleep is so funny!

This is where Jack and Davey become friends. And this is where Santa Fe starts playing. And let me tell you how excited I was when that song played. 92sies has the best version of Santa Fe. Christian Bale didn’t have to go so hard, but he did! 

I will never forgive Kenny Ortega for cutting out the lasso scene, especially since Christian worked so hard on it.

This is where The World Will Know starts playing. It’s a great song, and 92sies’ version is the best one! Everyone did such an amazing job! 

This where we meet Bryan Denton, and he has such chemistry with David. Also, David is so adorable in this scene when he’s blushing! I knew that Jack and Les would be kicked out the doors, but Jack is a badass as always in this scene. So is Les!

This is where we meet Spot Conlon for the first time. To be honest, I thought I was going to hate him, but then I instantly started to like him! 

Les repeating “real hoity toity” is so freaking adorable. Matter of fact, everything he does in this movie is so adorable!

Seize the Day is just starting and I’m already pumped. David Moscow really went hard for this number! And he didn’t have any dance training at all!

The little newsies during Seize the Day are so cute!  Especially Boots, Les, and Flipper!

Jack making faces at Weasel against the window never fails to make me laugh! 

I was literally screaming when Crutchy got taken away to the Refuge.

I’ve only seen Ten-Pin for two seconds and I really don’t like him. The way he insulted ed Crutchy by calling him a g*mp is absolutely disgusting. Movie Jack didn’t take well to that! Musical Jack just called Crutchy a cr*p without any qualms!

Aaaannnnd here’s Big Jerk Snyder!

The boys singing during Seize The Day (Chorale) sound like a choir of angels, and I’m loving it. The choreography is absolutely amazing and it reminds me of Michael Jackson.

It’s so adorable how the little newsies made drums for this number. 

Annnd here’s Spot Conlon and Brooklyn! I was clapping when they arrived! I was cheering when they won and Denton took the picture!

This is when King of New York starts playing! The tap dancing is amazing, but I bet the costumers were thinking “Those kids are ruining the tables.”

I always skip this scene of the confrontation between Snyder and Crutchy because I can sence that something even worse is gonna happen. 

Sarah and Jack didn’t even have that many scenes together, but they had more chemistry than musical Jack and Katherine did.

I really like Seitz. He knows that what Pulitzer is doing is wrong!

Ooh, the Rally scene (aka, the scene where everything gets real). And I was singing along during High Times, Hard Times. Also, seeing Medda with all the newsies was so entertaining to see! They’re just vibing! 

Aaaand here comes Big Jerk Snyder, again. I can tell that things are gonna go wrong, again!

Seeing Racetrack being brutally attack made me so mad that I shouted out “NO! Leave Racetrack alone.” This scene pissed me off the first time I saw it!

 Pulitzer and Snyder just piss me off already.

I can tell that Jack has been broken down during the Santa Fe reprise.

The scene where Jack scabs breaks my heart. Everyone is pissed off at Jack and Mush is more sad and heartbroken!

I really hate Weisel! 

Jack kicking the Delanceys’ butts for messing with his girlfriend and his best friends made me root for him, even after he scabbed.

This version of Once and For All is a lot better and catchier, especially since there was no unnecessary electric guitar.  The way every working kid in New York came together, whether it be a chimney sweep, or a sweatshop kid, makes me very happy! It shows that child labor hurt everyone, not just the newsies.

That part where Jack nearly leaves for Santa Fe really got me! 

And now Jack made Les cry!

Seeing Les cry was really heartbreaking! I would’ve hugged him and cupped his chubby cheeks!

Everyone’s just standing there waiting to get their papers and then suddenly, Jack comes back! And then he makes out with Sarah!

I love how Spot rode back to Brooklyn in a carriage!

Yeah, I love the movie version better than Broadwaysies and Livesies!

[somedayonbroadway]

How to lose a guy in the days au ?

I love How to Lose a Guy so much. And I haven’t written Jatherine in a while, so here we are. Let me know what you think!

Jack Kelly as Benjamin Barry

Katherine Plumber as Andy Anderson

Katherine is a How To girl for People magazine in New York City. She loves journalism but wants so badly to write about politics and government and things that really matter. And she does, but her boss won’t publish it.

She has two very close friends, Smalls and Buttons. Smalls is a hopeless romantic who is constantly getting her heart broken and Buttons is more of a tomboy who is more level headed and ready to fix things. When Smalls is late for a meeting, Katherine has to pull her out of her apartment and get her into work only for their boss to want to exploit Smalls’s love life for a story. So Katherine takes the heat and says she will write an article titled “How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days”.

And her and her friends go out and look for the lucky guy.

Jack is a man in advertisement. He is very successful and wants control of his own project. He is the hottie of the office, always riding in on his motorcycle and changing shirts with the window open. He tries to get on a project with his boss and he tries to take control of it, but his boss wants to give it to the Delanceys who have relations with a Diamond company that they’re going into work with. So Jack insists that he can make anyone fall in love with diamonds and Oscar challenges him and says he thinks he could make anyone fall in love with him.

So Jack makes a bet with his boss. His boss gives him ten days to make a girl fall in love with him or he gives the project to the Delanceys. So Jack agrees and the Delanceys, who recently met Katherine and know her next project, tell him that she’s his target.

So Jack goes up to this beautiful stranger in the club and takes her out to dinner.

Things start off very well. Katherine and Jack seem compatible and Jack actually ends up taking her home, not knowing that Kath actually thinks he’s a conceded jerk.

And so Jack sends her flowers takes her to a Knicks game the next night and Katherine makes him miss the end of the game, sending him on a wild goose chase to get her a Diet Coke. But Jack isn’t too upset about it as he asks to see her again.

But the next day, Katherine flips the switch. She calls him constantly and stalks him on his very private social media, asking him about his ex’s and his past and Jack is very reserved but still asks her to dinner that night and when Katherine comes over, she reorganizes his entire apartment, making everything pink and girlie. Jack is frustrated but doesn’t comment as he serves dinner only for Kath to burst into tears saying she can’t eat meat, which is just a flat out lie.

Katherine manages to get Jack accidentally beaten up, cops called on, game night ruined, and so forth. And eventually, Katherine thinks she’s won when she breaks up with him only to be sad about it. But Jack’s friends suggest he win the bet by going to counseling. The counselor, Smalls, takes Jack suggestion for him to take Katherine home to his family in Brooklyn and Katherine is stunned by this, and mad at Smalls, but does go with him that weekend where she can’t help but want to be normal in front of Jack’s family.

And she finds out things she probably wasn’t meant to. Jack grew up in the system with his little brother who was ten years younger than him, Race, who greets Katherine excitedly when she first arrives. They have an adopted middle brother named Charlie who is paralyzed from the waist down. Medda is their adoptive mother who pulled them out of the gutter.

Katherine plays card games with them and when Jack is inside making snacks, Race tells her that Jack hasn’t brought anyone home ever because of his past with sexual abuse by one of his old fosters. Medda cuts him off, but Katherine gets the picture. Race is embarrassed and Medda whispers to Katherine that he is autistic and he only rambles when he really likes someone. Katherine melts at that and Jack comes back out to serve snacks not knowing the conversation had happened. But later, when Jack is showing Katherine the shower, she asks to see the scars that his brother had mentioned. And Jack shows them to her before the have relations in the bathroom.

That weekend, Katherine falls in love. Jack takes her out on his bike and teachers her how to ride and takes her to all his favorite spots and opens up to her about how he was a father at ten years old to his baby brother and never had anyone looking out for him. He even tells her that he hates advertising and wants to be an artist and shows her his art.

And by the time they get back to the city, Katherine is ready to come clean, but they have an event to go to where both of their companies will be, waiting to see who won.

The Delanceys know they’re losing and out Jack to Katherine who has a very public breakdown about it before she leaves and Jack is just as mad at her for toying with him like that.

The next week, Jack reads Katherine’s article and finds that their feelings were real and Kat really did love him, so he goes to confront her, only to find she’d quit her job and was moving away to find something else, so he chases after her and stops traffic in the middle of Brooklyn bridge to tell her he loves her too.

For more mood boards and AUs, click here!

[lithuanianking]

My portrayal of Oscar delancey:

I am a actor,a "certified" junior thespian.twice I have been accepted into advanced theater programs. In my current program I play Oscar delancey and I love the role and here's how I do it.

when I'm in charge I am super cocky,like when the delancys kidnap jack ,I parade around like I own the place,I smile when pulitzer is talking I smile,and when morris and I say Santa fe I put my arm around his neck. When I'm talking about my skull busting arm needing rest before santa fe I hit race on the head whith a role of news paper I carry around the whole time to hit people whith.(on my last night I acdently hit race really hard in the mic it was super loud and everyone in the audience said ooooo then laughd,all my family and friends asked why I hit him so hard, I actually felt bad but he was ok,so was his mic) when I'm passing out papers I throw them across stage for the newsies to chase,hold them above their face and hit them hard whith them. I hit wisely and morris whith my " signature " news paper any chance I can. During the fight me and morris laugh and point at the newsies getting arrested and such.

I only act like that cause I have people backing Me up who are in power it's the only times I don't cross My arms and I'm actually "open"

Otther times my arms are crossed and I'm more defensive.

Also my interpretation of him is gay,I go on a date whith Seitz at meddas theater and our teachers encourage this and tell us how to be more romantic.

I think I also somehow made my character more childish whith how I stick my tongue out at the newsies,pout when morris breaks up me and wiseals fight,how everytime I'm near jack I get in his face and taunt him,how anytime there's a powerful figure I act like they are the boss of me,and more stuff.

My fellow actors pick up on this and kinda treat me like I'm the younger one,morris tells me to be quiet when we're hiding in meddas theater,wiseal and morris are constantly telling me off for doing stuff like hitting people,when they leave me whith the cart they act like I can't be trusted whith it,and how they ether give a disappointing nod when u do something stupid or tell me off,also morris is trusted whith more like beating up jack and looking for help + before seize the day morris plays it off as me being late and him going to get me.( he does this because we have to make a late entrance to deliver our lines and the cart needs to be carried it makes most sense I love how they play that off I just picked it up)

As a family we also actually like eachotther unlike most portrayals,me and morris laugh together at the newsies,I like laugh behind wiseals shoulder (idk how to describe it) when the newsies,I put my arm around morris when we say "Santa fe" and at the very end I hug wiseals neck and morris wraps his arm around mine,we just share a lot of fun moments like that.

I have rivalry whith certain newsies, specs and I shake our fists at eachotther when he looks around and I hold his paper above his head until he snatchs it from me, Muriel throws a paper at me and we later fight in the big fight (she kicks my ass btw) I hit race and he pokes fun at me alot.

My script is very elaborate as well even though I immediately rember my lines and blocking.

[svtskneecaps]

i'm extremely amused by my own reaction to certain aspects of stage shows bc i saw a production of newsies and pulitzer was DAMN good like he very much ate that scene where they corner jack kelly in the office before the rally, absolutely legendary acting however it also meant that i wanted to knock his teeth in.

like "fuck you you're doing a great job i'm gonna rearrange your organs well done"

[heliads]

Coming Home

Based on this request: "race x kelly!reader where she got back from the refuge and it's not doing rlly good?"

masterlist

“How well do you know Y/N Kelly?”

The question is simple, the answer less so. Race has lived a life on the streets of Manhattan and has gotten used to fielding questions and coming up with answers on the go, yet somehow this throws him for a loop. How does he respond to this? There’s no good way to describe the relationship he has with Y/N, the timid circles they’ve run around each other.

But Crutchie is still waiting for an answer. Poor, expectant, oddly hopeful Crutchie. Stalling for time, Race reaches for a question in return. “As well as anyone, I guess. Why do you ask?” Crutchie sighs, glancing around the lodging house like he’s expecting someone to be desperately listening in. “She just got back from the Refuge last night. Things aren’t exactly going well.”

Instantly, every sense in Race’s body is thrown into high alert. The Refuge is a horrible, horrible place. Race would know, he’s spent some time there himself. If the rats and starvation don’t get you, the beatings from the guards will. It’s one of the worst experiences a newsie can ever have. No matter how much spirit you have out on the streets, the second you pass over that threshold, it’s all gone. All of it.

The thought of Y/N Kelly in the Refuge is not something Race wants to consider, not even for a second. “She was in the refuge? I thought she lived somewhere else.” Crutchie shakes his head. “She’s Jack’s sister, remember? If she had a place, he’d probably be there too. Jack’s been worried about something like this for months.” Race’s stomach drops. “Wait, what do you mean, months? Y/N left the lodging house a year ago. Everyone said something about how she was looking for better work somewhere else.”

The memory of that conversation still twists like a knife in Race’s heart. She had never even said goodbye, never bothered to visit. It had torn at him time and time again, wearing him down even when Race swore a girl would never get the best of his heart like that. He supposed he didn’t have a choice with her, he rarely did. There was something about her that made all hopes of friendship impossible. When she’d left without a word, Race couldn’t help but take it personally.

Yet, looking at Crutchie now, Race is starting to have some doubts about Y/N’s past disappearance. He takes a step closer to the boy, feeling his temper rise with every word. “But she didn’t go, did she? She’s been in the Refuge all this time. For a year.” Crutchie doesn’t exactly agree with this, but he can’t seem to bring himself to say a word. Race runs a hand through his hair, trying and failing to come up with some way to make this better.

Crutchie winces. “We was looking for her, honest. We didn’t know for sure that she was in the Refuge.” Race glances back at him. “But you guessed, didn’t you? What, was she not worth the effort of breaking her out?” Crutchie stands up straighter, and Race realizes he’s gone too far. Crutchie may joke around with everyone else and have a heart of pure, unfiltered gold, but he’s got a spine of diamond. It’s wrong of him to assume Crutchie would ever let a newsie or a Kelly stay in the Refuge if he could do something about it.

“There was no way Jack could get involved. You know that, Race. Snyder’s tightened restrictions around that place ever since Jack escaped. We tried to visit her a lot, and every single time we were practically chased off with pitchforks. We couldn’t do anything but stay away and hope they wouldn’t take their anger about us visiting out on her and extend her sentence.”

Race sighs, trying and failing to force himself to calm down. “You said she got here last night, right? So she’s out?” Crutchie’s face falls rapidly. “Technically, yes.” Race frowns. “What do you mean, technically? Either she’s here or she’s not.” Crutchie glances around the room one last time, and Race realizes that he’s looking for Jack. Whatever he’s about to say, whatever is going on with Y/N, Jack either doesn’t know or doesn’t want other newsies to know. This can’t be good.

Crutchie takes a deep breath before responding. “They let her out after a year, claiming her sentence was over or whatever. She’s not herself, Race. Not at all. She doesn’t seem to recognize any of us. She remembered enough to get back to the lodging house, but she isn't responding to anyone. Not me, not Katherine-” Crutchie pauses. “Not Jack. He’s pretty torn up about that.”

Race thinks he knows where this is going. “That’s why you asked how well I knew Y/N? You think she’d recognize me.” Crutchie shrugs, although Race can tell he’s faking his couldn’t-care-less stance. “You’re our best bet. You and Y/N were close, Race, whether you want to admit it or not. If Jack can’t get through to her, then I think you could. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I know you cared about her. I think we owe it to her to try.”

Race feels like a hand is clenching around his heart, stopping all attempts at escape. “I’ll do it. Where is she?” Crutchie looks relieved. “The roof. That one fire escape she always seemed to go to.” Race nods. “I’ll see you later, I guess.” Crutchie grabs Race’s arm as he attempts to leave. “And Race? Be careful. She isn’t herself, I mean that. Don’t end up doing more harm than good.” Race stares a second, then removes the boy’s hand from his arm. “I won’t. I can’t hurt her, not if I tried.”

Race’s footsteps seem hollow on the stairs, rattling up the fire escape stairs like they’re not connected to him at all. He knows where Y/N will be, but it’s still a surprise to see a figure curled up on her fire escape landing. No one seemed to visit there in the year she’s been gone, as if they’re all saving it for her. To see someone there now almost seems sacrilegious, even if it’s her.

Drawing closer, Race feels a lump form in his throat. Y/N looks, well, awful. There are large bags under her eyes, as if she hasn’t been sleeping. As if she’s been too afraid to sleep. Bruises dot her arms, scratches line her body. Her cheeks are hollow, the result of having no food to eat. When she hears him approach, her eyes widen in terror, and she backs away as far as she can on the narrow fire escape.

Race holds up his hands, but the sudden movement only seems to agitate her further. “It’s me, Y/N. It’s Race. I’m not going to hurt you.” Y/N’s shoulders relax infinitesimally. “They all say that.” Race feels like he’s been physically slapped. The thought of people telling Y/N, his Y/N, lies about not hurting her and what they mean makes him want to go up to the Refuge and burn it all down to the ground. However, getting himself landed in jail for years because of arson wouldn’t do Y/N any good, and so he stays where he is.

Race slowly lowers himself to the ground, sitting casually on the other end of the fire escape. “I’m just going to sit here, alright? I want to make sure you’re alright.” Y/N’s jaw clenches. “I’m fine.” Race raises an eyebrow. “If you were fine, you wouldn’t be looking at me like I’m a monster from one of Les’ nightmares.” Y/N’s gaze flickers to him at the mention of Les’ name. “You know Les?”

Race nods. “Yeah, Les and Davey. They’re friends of ours, right? The Jacobs. I remember when they first showed up and Davey tried to start something by saying that they didn’t give him enough papes. I thought Albert was going to soak ‘em just as sure as the Delanceys.” The corner of Y/N’s mouth twitches, like she’s trying to hold back a smile. “Albert would never soak another newsie. He’d be tempted, sure, but he wouldn’t do it.”

Her gaze softens at the memory, and then she turns to Race, as if really seeing him for the first time. “Race?” The name seems to tear at her throat, ripping out of her like it’s physically painful to even call up the hope that he might be here in front of her. Race can’t help but wonder how many times she asked other kids if they were him, and how many times she realized she was still alone after all.

He forces the thought away. “Yeah, Y/N. It’s me. It’s Race.” Y/N’s eyes flash closed for just a second, as if she’s overwhelmed with relief, and then she looks over at him once more. She shivers once, twice, as if she can’t stop. “I think I’m out now. I was there so long, and nobody ever came-” Before Race realizes what he’s doing, he’s scooting over on the fire escape, close enough that he can wrap an arm around Y/N’s shoulders and pull her near. He pauses just before his hand touches her, remembering everything she’d been through.

Y/N hesitates too, flinching slightly, one more sign that she’s still thinking of her time at the Refuge. Yet she takes a deep, rattling breath, and moves closer to Race. She lays her head on his shoulder. Race can feel the quiet rise and fall of her chest, the tension still radiating up and down her spine even as she tries to force herself to relax. Race remembers what it was like when he got out of the Refuge, the way he didn’t want to think about anything he’d just been through, yet he’d been reminded of it every second he walked and talked and breathed around the city.

So he opens his mouth again, casting about for something else to say. “Do you remember when you drew me that picture of myself?” Y/N’s shoulders start to shake, and for a second Race thinks he’s really done it now and he’s made her burst into tears before he realizes that she’s laughing. “Don’t bring that up. I’m embarrassed, Racer.” Race’s heart does a steady loop in his chest over the nickname, but he forces himself to stay calm.

“I don’t know why you’se embarrassed. I thought it was excellent.” Y/N gives him a look out of the corner of her eye. “It was excellent, that’s not the problem.” Race raises an eyebrow. “Well, look at you, Miss Confident. If your artistic mastery wasn’t the problem, then what was?” Y/N curls even closer in to Race’s chest, as if trying to hide away from the memory. “The problem was that I drew a picture of you and you found it. I looked like a stalker.”

Race chuckles. “You weren’t a stalker for drawing me. Jack does it all the time. Honestly, I’m flattered that you were trying to come up with a masterpiece and the first thing you thought of was me.” Y/N sits up slightly, still pressed against his chest, and it takes every ounce of self control in Race’s body to not start blushing with the heat of a furnace. “Maybe I was looking for a really mediocre muse.” Race just tosses her a wink, as casual a movement as he can muster. “I’m still your muse, love, and that’s what matters to me.”

There’s a shout from further down the fire escape. The newsies are arriving in the main room of the lodging house, still unaware of Y/N but wanting to meet up with everybody to discuss the day’s sales. Race moves to follow the voice, assuming Y/N will want some time alone, but her hand closes on his for just a second. Even this small movement is enough to convince him to stay.

When she speaks, her voice is quiet, barely there at all. “Don’t go. Please. I don’t want to be alone.” The bleakness in her words cuts at Race like a knife, and he sits back down, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Of course not. I’m not leaving you, Y/N.” Not anymore, he wants to add. Not after everything that you went through when I wasn’t there. Y/N seems to be thinking of similar things, and she shudders slightly. “I was there a year. I kept thinking that people were going to come for me, and they didn’t. No one ever did.”

Race opens his mouth to say something, anything, even though she’s right. Y/N lays a hand on his arm, and he remains silent. “It’s not your fault, Race. I heard Crutchie talking to you, I know you had no idea I was there. Jack, though, he knew. He didn’t do anything.” Race sighs, staring out at the horizon. “Jack makes a lot of decisions. He did what he thought was best. That doesn’t mean he was right, but at least he has a motive.”

Y/N looks over at him. “And if you knew? What would you have done?” Race laughs ruefully. “I would have broken into the Refuge myself. Beaten up all the guards like a superhero, carried you out. It would have been a thing for the movies.” Y/N chuckles. “Look at you, got everything planned out. You sound like Crutchie when he gets an idea.” Race grins too, then feels his expression sober.

“I’m being real, Y/N. If I had known I would have come for you. You know that, right?” He doesn’t know why it’s so important that Y/N know this, even if he couldn’t have actually done it himself, but something in him needs Y/N to count on him, to keep looking for moments like this one. She nods slowly. “I know you would, Race. I knew all along.”

A tight knot unclenches itself in Race’s stomach, and he presses another kiss to Y/N’s cheek in an attempt to stop the thundering behind his temples. “I just wanted to make sure. I care about you, Y/N. I care about you a lot.” The words are simple, hinting at something far more than the single phrase. It means that Y/N Kelly is one of the best things in his life, that spending a year without her was one of the hardest things he’d ever done. It means that finding out she’d been in the Refuge fills Race with an incomprehensible pain. It means that he loves her, even if he’s never sure if she feels the same way.

Y/N smiles up at him. “I care about you too, Race. More than you know.” Maybe it’s not a lot, not in Manhattan where every love story worth hearing is splashed out on the headlines. But for a boy and a girl, two hearts in a big city, it could paint the sunsets. It is enough for them.

[thetomorrowshow]

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.

[i-didnt-do-1t]

hi! i’m sorry, i hope you don’t mind, but i have been thinking about your tags since i first managed to glance at them and i Finally have the chance to actually write my thoughts out

morris told them. it was quiet, and he had both hands wrapped around the tumbler of tepid coffee he’d been handed. one of the sisters was with him, they liked to try and talk to him - liked to try and pry information he was never willing to give, but he’d fought with oscar right before coming that day and he’s fresh with the mixture of frustration and grief that oscar refuses to come with him. beginning to lose hope that he ever will.

“my—“ he starts, and falters with the nun turns her attention to him, gaze full of that open, kind patience that always makes him freeze. it makes his skin crawl, like whenever oscar tries to touch him gently too soon after a fight. “uh. i… i got a brother.”

the nun nods, encouraging him to continue. she probably knows he’s got a brother. she must know he’s a delancey. morris doesn’t ask.

“he… he’s older’n me. born ‘fore our parents got married.”

the nun’s face closes off slightly, and morris starts talking faster like he’s chasing her.

“an’—he ain’t been baptised or nothin’. he ain’t really the… type, neither. but he ain’t… ”

he ain’t evil. he ain’t bad for the things he hadn’t had a choice in. he ain’t beyond saving.

is he?

morris swallows hard. he regrets the few sips of coffee he’d dared to take, the constant pit in his stomach feeling deeper with his words, under the gaze of someone so unlike him. he’s fighting the urge to bolt, but his feet are tapping against the stone floor of the church. he can’t bring himself to look at the nun.

“can… i dunno. does God love him too?”

because morris does. and he doesn’t know exactly how he feels about God, but he supposes it’s always nice for the people you care about to get along.

Hello! I do not mind at all!!

The way I’m sobbing over the idea that Morris’s skin crawls when Oscar tries to be gentle after they’ve had a fight 😭 the way that Oscar can probably tell too, knows that the way Morris is looking at him is the same way he looked at their da when he yelled too loud and broke things, knows the barely restrained anger only showing in the flexing fist morris holds at his side- and it takes a second but the feeling Oscar had of needing to break things dissipates and suddenly all that’s left is his younger brother looking at him like a cornered animal, and Morris is the same height as him now but Oscar can’t help but see him as the head shorter than him he was when they were kids, and he tries to reach forward only for morris to flinch back, so instead he steps away, let’s Morris escape the room and the slam the door behind him, knows he probably won’t be back till later that night when they’ll both pretend that nothing had happened.

And the idea that Morris tells the nuns!! The way he does it without really realising that it’s almost this betrayal of trust, something that would end up pushing Oscar even further away from the church and the people in it. Something that ultimately ironically only leads to another fight in a couple of weeks when he finds out.

But Morris was just thinking he supposed it was always nice for the people you care about to get along 😭

[louisapennyfeather2021]

Can you do a Jack Kelly sister x race or Albert (up to you) and Jack finds you guys kissing and is about to kill race or Albert. Then you all sit down and Jack gives the classic dad talk. This could be plantonic Jack/ race or Albert love. (You also don’t have to make it a sister I’m just a girl myself haha)

I finally made myself do this, mostly because I said I'd have it done by Friday and that's in less than four hours, but I'll(hopefully) make it happen!!! Have I finished my essay? Of course not, but I did finished my math tests! Planned procrastination is somewhat effective, right?

Anywho, here it is!

Relationships: Brother!Jack, Reader x Albert

Pronouns: She/Her as the person who asked did clarify that she is a girl :)

(psst... I can always make this with they/them pronouns if anyone would like that)

A/N: This is definitely not my best work, but it's not bad!!! I always feel awkward trying to write Dad Talks, but never enough to not write them at all!!! Maybe it'll help that I'm awkward with it so it'll be projected onto my work haha!

Warnings: some kissing, a bad word or two. That's about it? Oh, also, I'm really bad at writing kissing stuff lmao

Setting: 1899 Duane Street Lodging House

***

"No, Y/N, you gotta wear ya cap right or ya gonna look like ya ain't got hair." Jack snatches Y/N's hat from off her head before flipping it and placing it on her head correctly.

"Jack, cut it out! Ain'tcha got somethin' better t' do?" Y/N swats at her brother's hand, ducking to avoid his mother hen behavior.

"He ain't got nothin' t' do cause he's too busy hoverin'." Crutchie snorts from where he sits on the front steps of the lodging house. Jack throws a half-hearted glare at Crutchie, which gives Y/N enough time to sneak past Jack and hurry down the street towards Newsies Square.

"Hey, where d'ya think yer goin'?" Jack calls. Y/N huffs and shakes her head before looking over her shoulder. As soon as she does, she takes off sprinting down the street, Jack chasing her down. Y/N squeezes past some of the guys that are making their way down the street, successfully managing to not completely shove Jojo into a walk on accident.

It's not unusual for Jack to be so overbearing, specifically with Y/N. Sure, he's oddly protective over all the Newsies, but he practically turns into a bear with Y/N. Jack says it's because she's his "baby sista' 'nd nothin's ever gonna happen to no sister o' mine."

Y/N understands to an extent, of course, but it makes some things, well, difficult. Specifically hanging out with friends. Or maybe someone who's more than a friend.

"Someone's rushin' this mornin'." Racetrack Higgins snorts as Y/N hurries to duck behind him and Buttons. Both wait outside the gates for Weasel to come open them. Albert leans on the gate opposite of Race, raising an amused eyebrow at Y/N. She playfully narrows her eyes at him before breathing a sigh.

"Just my parasite of a brotha'. Again." Y/N grumbles. Jack treats her like she's still a kid, when really she's just a year and a half younger than him. To some folks, that's a lot, but when you're forced to grow up on the streets of New York, it's just numbers.

"Ain't like he's doin' it for nothin'." Race scoffs a laugh, sharing a knowing look with Buttons before glancing between Albert and Y/N where she's still hiding behind the two smirking boys.

"Oh, shuddup. Jack ain't gotta worry about what he don't know about." Y/N glares pointedly at both Race and Buttons.

"Don't worry, I've kept Racer from hawkin' yer secret t' all of Manhattan." Buttons shoves Race's shoulder. Race squawks in protest and he starts arguing with Buttons. Y/N laughs, knowing Race would keep her secret no matter what. It's just funny to see Buttons get a rise out of Race.

"Could be worse. Buttons could'a taken his cigar." Albert chuckles, although he absentmindedly rubs his upper arm. He's learned the hard way not to take the blond boy's comfort object. However, that doesn't keep him from occasionally stealing it.

"You'd know how that turns out." Y/N sneaks behind Race as he argued with Buttons and stands next to Albert. She doesn't stand too close, especially since Jack is probably on his way with the rest of the fellas.

The last thing Y/N needs is for Jack to get suspicious of her and her relationships.

So Y/N just leans on the gate near Albert, both laughing as Race and Buttons start on a tangent. Eventually the others gather around, Jack and Crutchie being the last to actually show up. As soon as he's at the gate, Jack starts fussing over Y/N's hat again. She smacks his hand away and glares at him, receiving a horribly hidden laugh from Albert.

"Would you stop swattin', I'm tryin' t' make ya not look like a hooligan." Jack huffs.

"You know we're a bunch'a kids that sell papes for a livin', right? Hooligan is the nicest thing folks can call us." Y/N rolls her eyes. Jack opens his mouth to respond, but he doesn't get the chance. Instead, the sound of the gates rattling and snarky comments fills the air. Y/N turns to see none other than Oscar and Morris Delancey hesitantly opening the gates.

"What, no hello?"

"Wake up on the wrong side'a the cave this mornin'?"

"Aw, did'ya not have someone t' tuck ya in last night?"

The jabs make Y/N's face go red to hide her laughs. The dramatic eye rolls and frowns on the Delancey Brothers' faces are pure gold. Y/N doesn't doubt that either brother would go after any Newsie if it wouldn't get them in some trouble. After all, good ol' Mr. Pulitzer needs someone to make money for him.

As some of the guys keeps teasing the brothers, Y/N sneaks past them with Buttons, Albert following not too far behind. The three line up to get their papers, waiting for Weasel to slither his way to the distribution stand.

"Alright, line it up!" As if hearing his name, the Weasel himself stands grumpily behind his money box.

"Mornin' Weasel! Long time, no see!" Y/N grins brightly. The annoyed twitch under Weasel's left eye is enough to make Y/N snort.

"Not long enough." He grumbles.

"Aw, don't be such'a grump." Y/N mock pouts. She pulls a dime from her pocket and flips it onto the money box before moving down to take a stack of papers. She's grateful when Morris hands her the stack, although he does it with a sneer. Nice to know he's not specifically angry at her, at least not angry enough to throw her papers at her like he'll likely do to Jack and definitely to Race.

Y/N waits by the gates for her selling partner, aka the one and only Albert DaSilva. Thankfully Jack hasn't picked up on the Y/N and Albert almost always being partners. They switched it up once and a while to throw off any suspicion, but they're usually selling together. After all, it's one of the only times they can be together without the worry of Jack seeing.

"Ain'tcha sweet for waitin' for me?" Albert teases as he reaches the gate, his head down as he organizes his stack of papers in his bag.

"We both know you'd get lost if I let'cha go alone." Y/N snorts a laugh. She successfully ducks a playful swat from Albert before she looks over his shoulder. She sees Jack taunting Weasel and she knows she has a few seconds to leave before her brother chases her down. "C'mon, best we get a head start on Jack."

"Well stop screwin' around then." Albert grins and hurries out of the square, Y/N right on his heels.

They hurry through the streets of Manhattan towards the Brooklyn bridge. They usually take up selling along the waterfront, sometimes a few blocks around the bridge. They mostly sell at the bridge because it's one of the furthest spots from where Jack sells. Meaning they can hang out once they finish selling morning papers in peace.

"Bet I can sell all my papes b'fore you can even hawk a headline." Albert elbows Y/N's arm as they reach the bridge, the area slowly coming to life as people hurry to get to work.

"You're on." Y/N smirks before hurrying across the street to start selling.

The two spend most of the morning selling, taking a few small breaks to hide in the shade of an alleyway from the July sun. Y/N manages to finish selling her last paper just a few minutes after Albert. The red head is all smirks when he notices Y/N finish after him.

"Don't come smirkin' at me, you bet that you could sell out before I even started. You didn't say nothin' about finishin' first." Y/N points a finger at Albert as they turn down one of the alleyways behind the produce market. Y/N holds an apple in hand and Albert has a pear.

"Should'a bet I'd win first, that way I'da got a free lunch." Albert sighs dramatically and takes a bite of his pear. Y/N rolls her eyes for what feels like the millionth time today before eating her apple.

"I still don't see how ya eat those things." Y/N mumbles.

"I don't see how you can't!" Albert scoffs before finishing his pear.

"Too sweet. And soft, they make a mess." Y/N shrugs and takes another bite of her apple.

"You just can't handle how sweet pears are cause you're so bitter." Albert laughs. Y/N's mouth drops open and she doesn't hesitate to throw the core of her apple at Albert, effectively hitting his neck. Albert gapes, although there's a slight upturn at the corner of his lips. "Low blow, Kelly!"

"Aw, did I hurt the your ego on accident?" Y/N can't hold back the laugh the bubbles up from deep in her stomach. Albert gives her a "seriously?" look before he jumps at her. Y/N accidentally let's out a panicked squeak before turning. She gets a few steps before Albert wraps his arms around her and squeezes her into a hug from behind. "No fair!"

"I think you should apologize." Albert hums, his chin on top of Y/N's head. She's not short, but the way she's standing makes it easy for Albert to rest his chin in top of her head.

"Do you realize how awkward this is?" Y/N squirms. Her feet are in front of her and she's practically leaning against Albert, it's almost like she's trying to sit down. "Seriously, I think you're gonna break my back."

"Apologize 'nd I'll let go." Albert starts swaying back and forth, making Y/N grip his arms and shuffle her feet to keep from completely slipping to the ground.

"Ain't got nothin' t' apologize for." Y/N finished the sentence in time for Albert to sway further and nearly drop Y/N on her bottom. She squeaks again, making the obnoxious red head laugh and try to keep a firm grip on her so she won't fall.

"You're ridiculous." Albert shuffles back and helps Y/N stand up, laughing when she huffs in annoyance. Albert moves around to stand in front of Y/N, his arms crossed as he meets her faux annoyed expression. "I still think you owe me 'n apology."

"I don't see no reason why." Y/N shrugs, although the corners of her mouth twitch up into a horribly suppressed smile.

"That's a lousy thing t' say." Albert pouts, receiving a raised eyebrow from Y/N. The girl takes a small step closer to Albert and shrugs her shoulders slightly.

"Lousy ain't always bad." Y/N jokingly winks. Albert shakes his head with a laugh before naturally gravitating closer to Y/N. She follows until her nose bumps Albert's, the two of them getting closer until Y/N closes her eyes and feels Albert's mouth lightly touch hers.

Y/N hums into the kiss as Albert reaches up and rests his hand on the side of her neck. She follows, her hand gently wrapping around Albert's wrist and her thumb rubbing the soft skin. She can't help but smile as she moves her mouth againsr Albert's. This is far from the first time they've kissed, but with how little time they get to spend together, every kiss feels like the first.

Y/N still gets butterflies in her stomach. She still gets that happy high afterwards.

But even the happy high can end in a snap.

"Oh, hell no." Y/N's eyes snap open and she quickly pulls away from Albert. Her wide eyes meet Jack's furious frown as he stands near the mouth of the alleyway. Behind him, Race stands with an apologetic expression, Crutchie next to him with a hand over his mouth like he's holding in a laugh.

"Oh boy." Y/N whispers. Albert turns around, his expression matching Y/N's.

"Hey, Jack..." Albert awkwardly waves at the fuming boy.

"You're dead, DaSilva." And that's all it takes for Albert to bolt down the other end of the alleyway, Jack right on his heels. Y/N just stares in shocked silence, hardly noticing Race and Crutchie come to a stop next to her.

"I swear, I tried to distract him." Race rushes, although Y/N doesn't seem to hear as she opens and closes her mouth in shock.

"You are so in for it." Crutchie busts out laughing.

I'm so dead, Y/N thinks.

***

"Jack, you need t' calm down!"

"Calm down?! He was suckin' my sista's face!"

"Oh, no, gross, that's definitely not what we were doin'."

"You stay out of this!"

"Okay, everyone shuddup!" Y/N yells from one corner of the rooftop of the lodging house. Crutchie leans against the fire escape, watching and occasionally throwing in a comment or two. Jack paces around the roof, eyes narrowed in on Albert. The red head stands near the edge of the roof, as if he's ready to make a break for it if need be. Y/N stands somewhat between Albert and her fuming brother, sort of like a last resort for a barrier between the two. Y/N faces her brother, her arms crossed under her chest and her mouth set in a thin line. "Jack, it was just'a kiss 'nd I like Albert. S'nothin' wrong with that."

"Nothin' wrong with that? Everything's wrong with that! You're my sista', Albert's s'posed t' be my pal! Seein you two lockin' lips is just-" Jack wiggles around and gags, his nose scrunching up.

"Oh, we are not having this conversation because the thought of your sister kissin' a boy makes ya uncomfy." Y/N rolls her eyes before planting her hands in her hips.

"She has a point." Crutchie comments. Jack whines and shuffles around like he's about ready to throw himself off the rooftop.

"That don't change the fact that it's gross and weird and just wrong. She's my sister." Jack stares down Albert and points at Y/N.

"Yeah, 'nd it just so happens I was kissin' someone you know and trust! S'not like I was kissin' a Delancey or nothin'." Y/N's comment makes the other three on the roof gag and squirm uncomfortably. "Oh, we all know it's true!"

"Doesn't mean we wanna hear it." Albert shivers in disgust.

"Alright alright alright." Jack exhales heavily. He paces a few more times, shakes his head and pursing his lips. Y/N waits in silence with Albert and Crutchie, all three knowing Jack needs a second. When he finally stops pacing, all the attention trains in on him. "Fine, okay, s'not the worst thing ever, I'm gonna set some ground rules."

"What?!"

"Seriously?" Y/N whines, something she unfortunately shares with her older parasite- um, brother.

"Yes. Now I d'know how long this has been goin' on, but I'm sayin' right now that we will not be havin' any littles-"

"I'm gonna be sick." Y/N gags, and it's unfortunately a legitimate gag that makes bile sting the back of her mouth. Albert must inhale sharply and start choking on his spit because he starts coughing obnoxiously. Even Crutchie, who had found the whole situation so hilarious, looks like he's going to be sick.

"Oh, quit it ya pansies." Jack huffs. He angles towards Albert, his eyes narrowed again. "'Nd you. If you hurt my sista' in any way, I swear you'll find yourself swimmin' in the East River in no time."

"I'm definitely not planning on it." Albert manages to say before coughing and clearing his throat, his eyes watery from coughing.

"Good." Jack nods in satisfaction. He looks at the sky and seems to ponder before signing. "Get'a move in, gonna have evenin' papes out soon."

Albert throws an anxious look at Y/N before hurrying to the fire escape. He disappears, Crutchie quickly following and leaving the Kelly siblings alone.

"Y'know, ya could'a told me." Jack's shoulders sag. Y/N kicks her foot awkwardly, her eyes trained in the ground.

"Not if it risked ya reactin' the way ya did t'day." Y/N mutters. She looks up to see Jack sigh and move closer to her.

"I can definitely tell ya I wouldn't have chased him down." Jack snorts.

"I guess that would've been a perk." Y/N hums. She meets Jack's gaze and suddenly the two start laughing. Jack reaches over and playfully shives Y/N's shoulder.

"C'mon, weirdo. We got papes t' sell." Jack shakes his head.

Y/N smiles and follows him off the roof.

That's one crisis averted.

Granted, they still have the rest if the day left.

[aftertheskyy]

Newsies! Merlin

for @kingdowager!! happy holidays!!❤️❤️

Imagine Merlin as Jack, the unofficial leader of the newsboys in Camelot

Daegal as Crutchie

Our story starts with Merlin and Daegal, sleeping over the kingdom of Camelot, Merlin telling Daegal all about his plan to escape to a Druid village

That morning, they go down to work, selling papes for The World, run by the disdainful Uther Pendragon

They’re all happy though, carrying the banner tough and tall

One day, a new newsie called Lancelot (Davey) starts to sell papes

He has a younger sister, Gwen (Les)

(Not sure where to put this, but Morgana and Mordred as the Delancey siblings)

Merlin immediately befriends Lance, wanting to team up with them since Gwen is younger, and younger sells more papes

But then Uther jacks up the price of the papes (please imagine Uther getting a haircut and shave while singing “The Bottom Line”) 

He decides the price will be raised the next morning

Going back to the streets of Camelot, Agravaine as Snyder enters stage right

Merlin runs, bringing Lance and Gwen with him

They take refuge in a nearby theater-- Merlin knows the owner

Gaius as Medda Larkin and hear me out

He’s the parental kind of figure who supports the newsies and gives them any help they need

Also I just want to imagine Gaius as a stage performer

They hide out from Snyder and watch the show, and that’s when Merlin spots a very attractive blonde reporter

He finds out his name is Arthur and Tries Very Hard to flirt

Instead of sketching a picture like Jack does in the show, Merlin uses magic to impress Arthur

And though he’ll never admit it, Arthur’s in awe

The next morning, Merlin and the rest of the newsies (Gwaine as Race, Elyan as Specs, Leon as Elmer) find that the price of papes has been jacked up to 60 cents per hundred

And Merlin, with the help of Lance, forms a union and decides to strike

Arthur sees them and wants to write about the strike

Also just imagine Arthur singing Watch What Happens

The next day, Arthur continues to write and hangs out with the newsies as they try to recruit more people into joining their strike

MERLIN AND THE GANG SINGING SEIZE THE DAY ok that’s all

They’ve started to gain more support, but then the police show up, taking Daegal to the Refuge

Merlin runs back to his rooftop, belting out “Druid Camp”

And then intermission

Still frustrated about Crutchie and the strike, Merlin is nowhere to be seen as the rest of the gang sings King of Camelot when they see that they’ve made front page news (above the fold)

(Tiny! Gwen singing “an indoor toilet?” yes please)

Meanwhile, Daegal writes to Merlin from the Refuge (it’s very heartfelt. lots of emotions)

Shortly after, Lance, Gwen, and Arthur finally find Merlin hiding out in Gaius’s theater, who is working special effects for the theater with his magic

They all convince him to come back to the strike (Lance singing “poor guy’s head is spinning-”)

Anyways, Merlin shows up to Uther’s, wanting to talk about the strike

Except Arthur and Agravaine are there too, and Agravaine is still looking for Merlin

It’s revealed that Arthur is actually Uther’s son who wants to write, but for his father’s paper

Meanwhile, the Ealdor newsies show up, led by Percival as Spot Conlon

At a rally at Gaius’s theater, Merlin suggests they call off the strike, claiming that it’s too dangerous

Accepting Uther’s bribe, Merlin runs off, leaving all the other newsies in shock

Arthur chases Merlin back to his rooftop, only to find Merlin performing small spells

They get into an argument-- Arthur wants to know that Merlin didn’t cave for the money, and Merlin is mad because Arthur never told Merlin who he really was

But then Arthur kisses Merlin (I need them singing “Something to Believe In” oh my gosh)

They come to a solution: Arthur can call for a bigger strike in an article, reaching all working children and they start to plan

With the other newsies, Arthur and Merlin print their own paper and distribute it to working kids across the kingdom (*dramatic key change*)

Merlin goes to Uther the next day, wanting to see his reaction

They settle on a compromise, and the strike is over

Daegal returns from the Refuge and Agravaine is arrested

Merlin wants to leave for the Druid Camp, but he realizes that Camelot has his family and Arthur

And they all stay in Camelot, living happily together, carrying the banner

[improving-the-truth]

Carry

Jack had been making a weird face all morning, wincing every now and again as though he was in some sort of pain, but David couldn't see anything physically wrong with him. It was a nice day, there wasn't much to hide under a half-buttoned shirt that Jack wouldn't have been bragging about at the gates earlier.

David conceded it was very irrational that Jack all but outright refused to admit anything was, or could ever be wrong with him. A knife could be sticking out of his chest and he'd say it was nothing, and he'd be good as new soon. When he was faced with the possibility that he wasn't completely invincible, he hiked up his cowboy hat and turned away from anyone who posed the unwanted prospect. That person was almost always David, and he was getting really sick of it.

They were eating on the curb of a side street, sat under the beguiling shade of a canary-striped awning as people walked by in the distance. Figures appeared and vanished between the sliver of the street they could see from where they were sitting.

“Hey,” David piped up, “aren’t you hungry?”

Jack looked at David, then down at his sandwich, shocked it was still there. “Not really.”

David narrowed his eyes, trying for skeptical. Jack noticed probably, because he averted his gaze again and leaned forward, wrapping his sandwich up and setting it on top of his stack.

“That’s not like you,” David continued, feigning nescience. “You usually scarf down your food like a rabid dog.”

Jack made a noise of mockery at the unflattering comparison, raking his fingers through his hair and leaning back against the bricks. He shifted a lot before he sat even remotely still.

“I'm sure you'd know all about that.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Just that you ain't never seen a rabid dog in your life.”

“I've seen you, and that's enough.”

Jack punched his arm lightheartedly. “Whatever you say, Davey.”

David sorely rubbed his arm where Jack jabbed him. “Seriously, Jack. Are you alright?”

Jack was looking at him now, squinting as the rising line of daylight was creeping up on them.

“Why wouldn't I be?”

“I don't know,” David confessed, proceeding to explain exactly how he did know. “You’ve been acting strange all morning. Like… You stubbed your toe or something.”

“Yeah, that's it. On the banister runnin’ down the stairs this morning.”

“I told you not to run down any flight of stairs for any reason, because you're more susceptible to slipping and busting your head open at the bottom than you would be if you walked down them like a normal person.”

“Well, what if somebody was chasing me, huh? Like Snyder, or the Delanceys.”

“Snyder’s in jail. And why would the Delanceys chase you indoors? If they're as clueless as you say they are, they wouldn't be able to catch you in such an unfamiliar setting whether you ran down the stairs or not.”

Jack snorted, amiably slinging an arm around David's shoulders. “When’d I tell you they sleep outside?”

David blinked, before realizing what Jack meant. It was a stupid joke, but a smile fought its way onto his lips despite himself.

“I seen it for myself, you know. There's a pair of doghouses they get chained up to every night.”

“A doghouse wouldn't be big enough to fit a whole person inside of it.”

“They was wolf doghouses.”

“Those don't…” David fell silent as Jack poked his cheek, grinning before taking away his arm and sitting back in place beside him. David rubbed the spot Jack touched like it would be sore too.

“You know what your problem is, Mouth?” Jack asked. It was a rhetorical question, but David answered anyway, wondering how he managed to get swept into a conversation about wolf dog houses when that hadn't been what he asked about at all.

“What's my problem, Jack?”

“You take things too serious. If you do that for every little thing that happens under the sun, you won't have nothing left ‘cept a bunch of lawyers.”

David made a face, suddenly not feeling like eating at all. “You know what your problem is?”

“I don't got any problems.”

“You think you can get away with saying anything you want just because you smile when you say it.”

Jack stretched his arms above his head, wincing and slowly bringing them back down. David considered rolling up one of his papers and whacking him like one would whack a misbehaved terrier, but to his credit, he successfully refrained.

“You saying you like my smile?” Jack asked.

David inhaled sharply. “No. I mean, it's not a bad smile, it's just that…” David blinked, incredulous. This time he did whack Jack, but only on the shoulder with the back of his hand. “Look! You just did it again.”

Jack looked genuinely confused. There was no way he didn't know what David was talking about. That would have to be just about impossible… Wouldn't it? “What’d I do?”

“You--you just--” David had to take a moment to gather his thoughts, frustration increasing with every second further from the start of the conversation. “You’re good at what you do, is all.”

“Sellin’ papes?”

Jack reached for his pocket where he kept a crushed pack of cigarettes. David lightly slapped his hand away.

David looked him right in the eyes. “Improving the truth.”

Jack smiled, and then it fell. He took a moment before responding. “It's like this, Davey. There's the stuff folks don't wanna hear about, and the stuff they do. Simple as that. Wouldn't you want good news every day of the week?”

David was growing more and more impatient. “I’m not talking about selling papes.”

“Neither am I.”

They went quiet after that. There wasn't much point in sitting around if they weren't going to eat anything, so Jack got up and, against his better judgement telling him that maybe he should leave David alone until he simmered down, he held out his hand to help him up. And against David's better judgement, he took it.

He guessed there wasn't any real reason to be mad at Jack then. The whole reason they'd started arguing was because Jack was neglecting himself again, and David despised when he did that. Acting like he was all alone in the world and that nobody would care whether he lived or died, so it was okay if he was reckless, because the only person his behavior affected was himself. David thought it was incredibly selfish.

David didn't understand why Jack couldn't just tell him what was bothering him. It was like he thought being honest with David for one second would send all of New York careening into the Atlantic.

Still bristling, David stepped in front of Jack when he went to pick up his stack.

“I want to know,” David said, “why you won't tell me what's bothering you.”

Jack seemed taken aback. If David were anything but a pacifist, he would be inclined to punch that wide-eyed vulnerable look right off of Jack's face.

Jack opened his mouth to reply, but David held up a finger.

“I'm not going to believe you if you say nothing's wrong.”

David could practically hear the cogs turning. Jack looked around, scraping his soles over the concrete, like he was considering bolting, never to speak to David again if he could help it.

“My stomach hurts, alright?” Jack admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. That didn't answer David's much broader question, but it was something.

David softened, finding it difficult to feel as bad as he wanted to after their biting discussion. “Really? Is that all?”

“Yeah, that's all.” Jack stared pointedly until David stepped out of the way.

David felt unequivocally vexed, sympathetic, and confused at the same time. Jack was his best friend no matter how difficult it was to be around him without exploding sometimes, and even when he acted like he did, there was always this little nagging sensation at the back of David's mind that reminded him of the way Jack was when they first met, and that this was merely a clearer image of that boy. Not nearly transparent enough for it not to beg questions, but they were getting there.

It was a silly thing to refuse to talk about, anyway. David wondered what Jack expected him to say if he'd just been upfront the first time David asked.

“Let me carry some of your papes for you,” David offered.

Jack shook his head. “I got it, Dave.”

“You said your stomach hurts.”

“It does.”

“Do you always have to be so stubborn?”

“I ever not been stubborn?”

David heaved a sigh. “No.”

“It ain't a big deal, anyway. Don't worry about it.”

David did worry about it. Jack was being too hopeful if he thought for a second that he wouldn't worry about it. Defeated, David took his own stack and followed Jack back into the street and the sunlight.

It was only halfway to their next spot that Jack silently counted what he had left, split it in two, and handed half off to David.

[chaoticgremlinwholikescheese]

Promises

A/N: Not what I usually write but wanted to try something new. I apologize in advance. Please don’t judge me.

TW: Violence, homophobia, swear words

DAVEY’S POV:

“I told you that the park was pretty at night.” Jack says with a smirk. “Fine, you were right. I admit it.” My hand is entwined with Jack’s, swinging slightly as we walk. “I like it when it’s quiet and empty. You can lay on the grass and stare up at the stars.” I hum in agreement. The stars are bright and beautiful, slowly twinkling in the night sky.

Jack leads me through the streets and alleys. He knows Manhattan like the back of his hand. He has every hiding spot committed to memory. This is his home, and he knows everything about it.

“Hey, look. It’s the two faggots.” Jack whirls around, pressing me behind him. Oscar stands at one end of the alley and Morris stands at the other. We’re trapped. They start walking closer and I ball my fists. I can’t fight for shit, but I can at least try.

“What do you want?” Jack growls. He places a hand on my arm, trying to shield me from the Delanceys. “Still hanging out with your boy toy?” Morris sneers. Jack’s fists tighten. He’s angry, I can feel it radiating off of him. “Shut your mouth before I shut it for you.” 

“Oh, he gets defensive over his little slut! How sweet!” I can feel my chest tightening. They aren’t going to leave us alone. This isn’t good. This is the farthest thing from good.

“Watch your mouth, Delancey.” Jack hisses. The brothers decide to ignore his threats, coming closer. “Y’know, I’ve been itching for a fight with you, Kelly. But you always had your little gang around you. But looks like you’re all alone with your little boyfriend now.” Morris cracks his knuckles for emphasis. 

“If you want to fight me, then we’ll fight. Just leave Davey out of this.” I look at Jack in disbelief. “You can’t honestly expect me to leave you here-” Jack silences me with a warning glare. “We could let him go. But then he’d run to get your friends. So I think we’ll have to hurt him too.” Oscar lunges at Jack, punching his jaw. Morris punches my stomach and I keel over, all the air being knocked from my lungs.

Everything is moving to fast, I can’t keep up. I hear Jack fighting with Oscar, but I can’t see him. I’m too focused on trying to fight off Morris’s grip on my wrists. He punches my jaw and my hat flies off. He wraps an arm around my throat. He pulls me against his body and I feel his breath on my ear. Then I feel the cold metal against my neck.

“Kelly. Stop or I’ll kill him.” I hope Morris is joking, but I don’t think he is. Jack freezes, slowly turning to face me. His face goes white when he sees the knife against my neck. “Oscar. Get him against the opposite wall. He won’t try anything while I’ve got his boyfriend.” 

Oscar does as he says, forcing Jack against the bricks. Jack stares at me, his eyes reassuring me that it will all be okay. I wish I could believe the same. “You don’t want to go to jail for this. Let him go.” Jack’s voice is calm, but I can sense the fear underneath. “We ain’t gonna kill him. We’re just gonna hurt him a bit.” Oscar hisses. My blood runs cold.

“Hurt me, but leave him alone. Please. I’ll do anything.” Jack is begging now. His hands are up in a show of surrender. “Don’t you see, Kelly? We’ll be hurting you by hurting Davey here.” I can feel panic taking over. But I have to stay strong for Jack. I can do that. I have to.

Morris draws the knife against my cheek and I bite back a scream. The blood is warm on my face, slowly dripping down. “Stop! Please, just stop!” Jack shouts. The blade cuts a line down my collarbone. When I stay silent, Morris presses deeper. This time I can’t hold back my scream. It echoes through the alley, repeating over and over again. I feel tears run down my cheeks. The salt stings my cuts. 

Another slice onto my chest, tearing my shirt. One onto my stomach, another on my arm, another and another and another- they blur. Too many. Just blinding pain. My screams mix with Jack’s pleading. I think he’s crying too, but I can’t tell. I feel blood but I can’t tell where exactly it’s coming from. 

I think I stop screaming. I feel numb. It’s like I’m watching through someone else’s eyes. I can’t really hear anything. I can’t tell if I’m breathing. Then I’m falling. I feel myself hit the cobble stones. the cold feels good. I just want to close my eyes. I’m really tired.

JACK’S POV:

Oh God, there’s too much blood. His shirt is dark with it, the red pooling beneath him. “Davey, Davey, I’m right here. I got you. You’re going to be okay. C’mon, sweetheart. Keep your eyes open.” A tear falls from my face into the slowly growing puddle of blood. It causes a ripple, rings flowing outwards.

I heard him scream, so many times. I saw the blood fall down his chest. I thought I was going to watch him die. But then the boys showed up, chased the Delanceys off. They dropped Davey like a bag of trash when they ran. Now my boyfriend, my heart, is laying here an inch away from death. 

“Hold on, I’m gonna get you home.” I slip my hands under Davey, slowly lifting him up. He whimpers and I apologize. I hold him to my chest. It reassures me that I can feel him breathing. I run as fast as I can. I take every shortcut and side street I know. I feel the familiar streets underneath me, and I follow them home.

I race up the lodging house stairs, and I’m greeted by Specs, Finch, and Albert. “Oh my God.” Finch chokes out. “Specs, you gotta help him, please, I can’t lose him-” Specs pushes me out of the way, yelling at Albert to get him the first aid kit. Finch leads me over to a chair. I try to stay with Davey, but he tells me I don’t want to see what comes next. 

I collapse into the chair and I place my head in my hands. The moment replays in my head. Why couldn’t I protect him? I should have told him to run. This is my fault. Davey is dying because of me, I did this- “Jack. Drink.” Finch shoves a glass of water into my hand. I take a sip but can’t drink anymore.

“Jack. You need to change out of your shirt.” I look down. My shirt is covered in blood. It looks like I was the one who got injured. “No. It’s okay.” My voice is quiet. I can’t seem to make it louder. “That wasn’t a question. Go change.” Finch orders. I don’t have the energy to argue.

Once I’m changed, I come back out. Everyone is back, but the room is silent. I think the silence is even scarier than the look on their faces. When they see me come in, they try to paste on smiles. They don’t hold them. “Is he okay?” every second that passes, I lose hope. “He’s okay. He’s still out, but he’s okay.” Specs announces. I sigh in relief. “Can I see him? Please?” Specs nods, gesturing towards the bed. 

The Davey I see there is pale. He looks already dead. A white bandage lays on his cheek, covering the gash underneath. I take a seat next to his bed and I grab his hand. It’s limp in mine. “I’m so sorry, Davey. I am so, so, sorry.” Tears begin to run down my face again. I didn’t think I had any tears left to cry. “I should have protected you.”

“This isn’t your fault, Jack.” Crutchie says softly. “Yes, it is! I’m the one who got away with just bruises. It should have been me in that bed. It should have been me.” Crutchie places a hand on my shoulder. “You didn’t hurt him. The Delanceys did.” I feel anger light in my core. “I’m going to kill them. I’m going to fucking kill them.” 

“We’ll join you.” Race mutters. The other boys voice their agreements. “No. No more violence.” Crutchie says loudly. “They almost killed my boyfriend. You can’t tell me you aren’t as angry as me right now!” I shout. “I’m fucking pissed, Jack! We all love Davey, and we’re just as protective over him as you. But violence won’t help anyone. It just makes things worse,” 

I don’t think I’ve ever seen Crutchie angry before. But here he is, standing in front of me, boiling with rage. As I look around the room, I see that all of the boys are furious. Davey is family. You protect family, you fight for them. But maybe Crutchie is right. If you keep fighting, the anger never ends. 

“Jack?” the voice is dry and pained, but it’s Davey’s. I whirl around and I see Davey blinking his eyes open. “Hi, sweetheart. I’m right here. You’re safe.” I stroke his hair gently. He turns his head to look at me. “I feel really crappy right now.” he chokes out. I chuckle. “Yeah, no wonder.” 

Davey takes a few seconds to look around and get his thoughts straight. Then his eyes go wide as everything comes back to him. “Jack, are you okay?” he tries to sit up but stops mid-movement with a pained inhale. “I’m okay. I’m the one who should be asking that question.” 

I place a pillow behind Davey and help him sit up. When the blankets fall off, I see the white bandages wrapped around his chest. So many bandages. “I’m so sorry, love.” Davey looks at me with confusion. “Why are you apologizing? You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell him!” Crutchie chimes in. “You’re always so stubborn.” Davey says with a smile. “I should have protected you, Davey. I could have fought them off,” I insist. “No, you couldn’t have. You did all you could. Plus, I’m okay. A little banged up and traumatized, but I’m here. I’m alive.” He rubs my hand with his thumb.

“I should be the one laying here, not-” Davey puts his hand up to interrupt me. “You aren’t the only one who wants to protect their boyfriend, Jack. I’d do anything to keep you out of harms way. I’d much rather be the one injured than you. Carrying what happened on your shoulders won’t do any good. Don’t blame yourself.”

“I love you, Davey.” I place a kiss to his forehead. “I love you too, Jack.” He kisses my knuckles. I help Davey lay back down and cover him with the blankets. He continues to hold my hand, even as he starts to fall asleep. “Don’t leave me tonight. Please.” 

“I ain’t going anywhere. Promise.” 

A/N: I know this is dark and terrible. I apologize.