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violetwolfraven · 4 years

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The King’s Men

Hey @buttons-and-gulons I wrote this as a Christmas present for you! You said you liked sprace so I decided to flesh out my backstory for Spot and his friendships with other Brooklyn kids and also include his relationship with Race in there! Hope you like it! Happy Holidays!

Tw: mentions of abusive parents, period-typical homophobia, some internalized homophobia, minor character death.

...

Sean was 6 when he ran away from home.

His father had been gone a year, and his mama resented her son as a reminder of how she’d wasted her youth on a man who never loved her. And after months of stress and anger being taken out on him in the form of cigarette burns and slaps to the face, Sean finally got the message. He took off onto the streets while his mama was at work, slept in an alleyway, and barely survived the rest do the week alone, a kid with no money and no home to go back to.

It was six days before a red-haired girl noticed him in that alleyway and asked where his parents were, and Sean said he didn’t have any even though as far as he knew, both his parents were still alive.

The girl introduced herself as Palomino. She was 12. Six years older than Sean. She was a newsie, and she was willing to take Sean home with her if he’d use his cuteness to help her sell.

Sean, not having anywhere else to go, agreed, and with a scarred-up little kid fronting, he and Palomino sold so many papers that they had to go back in the middle of the day for more.

She introduced him as ‘Spot’ that night at the Lodging House, and when Sean tried to object, she pretended not to hear. But she introduced him to the other Littles, to Rafaela, a year older, who’s real name wasn’t Rafaela, and Scabs, who was Sean’s age, who’s name definitely wasn’t Scabs.

Sean didn’t have many good memories attached to his name, anyway, so he let his new friends call him Spot, and he learned the best ways to sell alongside them, learned to fight and lie convincingly from older kids, learned to survive on the streets and avoid the bulls. The three of them kept their heads down to avoid the latest Brooklyn king’s wrath, and looked out for each other as best as they could.

‘As best as they could’ wasn’t always enough.

Spot was 7, Rafaela was 8, and Scabs was dying of tuberculosis that winter.

When Spot tried to tell the king he needed help, the older boy just looked vaguely unhappy, mentioned that they lost kids every year, and took a swig of the whiskey he’d bought with money he could have spent on medicine.

Palomino wasn’t much more help, saying that sometimes kids died and there wasn’t anything you could do about it, so you had to just say goodbye and hope they ended up somewhere nice. And what made that worse was that she clearly cared more than the king did, but still wasn’t willing to even try to save Scabs.

Spot was 7 the first (but not last) time he ended up in the Refuge, for trying to steal medicine for his friend. Of course, Snyder didn’t show mercy even to a kid so young, and the beds were somehow cramped and cold, so Spot spent every minute thinking of when he’d get out. He was stuck in that hellhole for two weeks, and though Rafaela and Palomino were waiting for him by the gate when his sentence was over, Scabs was already gone.

Unlike the girls, Spot didn’t get to say goodbye, and he realized he should’ve just listened to Palomino.

He felt stupid, crying over a friend he hadn’t even known a year. It was stupid, how one person being gone could mean so much. Too much. And it was stupid how Spot had even more nightmares than before, and he flinched when Rafaela tried to help him.

He understood now why ‘Mino held her friends at arm’s length. Why she didn’t get attached to anyone. It was so she wouldn’t miss them too much—wouldn’t cry—when they were gone.

So, Spot pushed Rafaela away. He stopped selling with her, stopped letting her try to help when he had nightmares. He tagged along with any older kid willing to take him, knowing none of those broken, rough boys and girls would let him get too close. They knew better.

He tried not to think about how hurt Raf looked at first, or how angry she got as time went on. As months passed, and then years.

Spot was 8 when York came along. Raf’s age, full of scars and stories he didn’t tell. He was mostly silent and thoughtful where the other kids were loud and rambunctious. Still plenty angry, just quiet about it. Smart. When he committed minor crimes (as most Brooklyn kids did) he didn’t get caught. He never said that he held back his anger quietly because one time he hadn’t and it had ended in him losing that right eye of his, but everyone kind of knew.

York was good in a fight, but as with Rafaela, Spot didn’t let him get too close. He kept them both at a distance, and it absolutely didn’t hurt how they got close without him, because it was better if Spot kept them out of his heart.

That didn’t mean he wouldn’t soak anyone who said something bad about either of them twice as fast as he would if someone said something bad about him, like when the latest king of Brooklyn made fun of York’s eye patch.

It was a different king than the one who let Scabs die, because of course it was. Brooklyn kings came and went fast, as soon as someone bigger/tougher/deadlier came along. But they were all indistinguishable from the others. Everyone was loyal to them only out of fear.

Spot should have known better. He was a Little. He was less than half the king’s size. He didn’t stand a chance.

But he threw the first punch anyway, and the only reason he survived that fight was because Palomino stepped in and reminded the king that he was a kid. He was young. And he had learned his lesson.

Spot absolutely had not learned his lesson. He was angrier than ever, but he let the older girl patch him up, anyway.

Spot was 8 and when he healed up, ‘Mino started teaching him to fight. Really fight. And no matter how many bruises accumulated or how many times he lost sparring matches, she wouldn’t let him stop learning. She kept pushing him harder, making him get stronger, goading him on until he could land a hit on her, until it didn’t matter that he couldn’t match her for strength or height, until he could knock down an opponent much bigger than himself.

She didn’t sell with him anymore, moving on to selling with Bart and Joey, a pair of siblings, the brother the same age and the sister two years older than Spot. It wouldn’t be until years later that Spot would realize she was doing that to protect him, so no one would suspect they were up to anything.

Spot was 9, Palomino was 15, and she showed up late to sparring sometimes. She sold at Sheepshead, but she’d never let him come with her. She’d never let anyone come with her anymore, but she slung a good 150 papes a day, so no one could argue.

Hildy showed up that fall, a 10-year-old who barely spoke a word of English, and while she fell in with the younger gang, the one Spot still kept at arm’s length, she was a bit separate, too, given that she had a hard time communicating.

She tried to make friends with Spot, and she was so innocent, at least at first, that it actually hurt to push her away towards the others, into that bubble Spot was always on the edge of but never let himself try to enter.

No one trusted anyone else completely in a borough that chaotic, but it definitely didn’t hurt how the others had a circle of at least relative safety and Spot wouldn’t, couldn’t let himself have even that much.

Spot was 10, and he was surprised to find that having made it to double digits didn’t make him feel much older or wiser. Palomino still occasionally made him spar with her, but she’d run out of things to teach him. Spot was getting big and strong enough that she didn’t have to go easy on him anymore, and sometimes he even won their sparring matches.

What was weird was that ‘Mino kept sneaking off to Manhattan, and Spot wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like there was anything interesting in ‘Hattan. Even the kids who lived there weren’t especially interesting, if the ones Spot saw who came over for negotiations and things were any indication.

When he asked why, she simply said that he’d understand the appeal of Manhattan someday, even if Spot was pretty sure he wouldn’t. What did ‘Hattan have that Brooklyn didn’t?

It was later that year when Spot found out that Palomino wasn’t the only one with a strange fixation with Manhattan, when he accidentally caught Moony making out with a ‘Hattan boy a few blocks from the Brooklyn bridge.

This was significant because Moony was a boy, too. And Spot was pretty sure boys weren’t supposed to kiss other boys.

Of course, Moony said he’d punch Spot’s daylights out if he told anyone about him and that Manhattan boy, who’s name turned out to be Skittery.

Spot didn’t understand that. Sure, boys kissing other boys wasn’t legal, but it wasn’t like most of the Brooklyn kids didn’t commit worse crimes on a regular basis. They all stole and cheated when they had to, and they all knew each other did these things, so why was one more illegal action any different?

When he asked Palomino about it (even though he told Moony he wouldn’t tell anyone) she just laughed, saying she hadn’t pegged Moony as queer and that he should know better than to make out where people could see, but that he had good taste in boys.

But she also said that Spot couldn’t tell anyone, because Moony could get kicked out of the Lodging House at best, arrested and killed in jail at worst, and no matter what happened, it wouldn’t be good if anyone found out he was...

There was that word again. ‘Queer.’ Spot didn’t see why anybody cared so much, but he understood that if it could have such bad consequences, it was best for it to stay secret.

Unfortunately, Moony being queer didn’t stay secret. And after the secret came out, Spot never saw him again. That was when it hit that being queer wasn’t just a secret; it was dangerous.

And he still wouldn’t let himself be friends with any of the others his age, but that didn’t mean he missed how Raf snuck glances at Joey as much as she did at York, or how Bart blushed when the new kid, Vince, grabbed his hand to keep track of him in a crowd.

And that meant, even if he couldn’t have them as friends, Spot had to protect them. Sarcastic Vince, quick-witted Hildy, defensive Bart, funny Joey, tough York, and stubborn Rafaela.

And Palomino, too, he guessed, even if she didn’t need it, but the point was that to protect anyone, he had to keep an eye on them, which was closer than he’d let himself get to any of them since he was 7 years old.

Spot was 11 when he found a 5-year-old girl alone in an alleyway and saw himself in her, so he offered her a home.

And he tried to keep her out. He tried to keep that little girl from worming her way into his heart, but somewhere between giving her a piggyback ride to the Lodging House and teaching her to sell, Bluebird got in, no matter how hard he tried. It was scary.

But then again, the latest king, Joe Harris, was even more corrupt and tyrannical than the others Spot remembered, so maybe Blue sticking close to him was for the best.

Letting one person in didn’t mean you had to let in anyone else, right? And besides, Spot could protect one person close to him. Probably.

Or maybe not, because it turned out Joe Harris could hurt even those who seemed untouchable, with how Palomino stood up to him once and it got her killed.

Spot was 12, and he wished he could say that he didn’t grieve his mentor when she was gone. Because despite himself, he had cared about her, and it hurt so much that she was gone.

Joe killing Palomino was meant to scare off any others thinking of rebelling, and it did just that to most of them, but Spot just got angry instead.

He never forgave Joe, and he made a promise to himself that no King of Brooklyn would take anyone else from him again.

It turned out Blue was just the first crack in a dam, because after her, Spot found himself caring about more people. Mostly in the form of the others his age in Brooklyn, despite how hard he’d worked to keep them out. He’d never really be one of them after isolating himself for so long, but in finally letting himself trust them as allies, Spot found that it wasn’t as scary as he’d always feared.

Well, it was scary. But he knew that the others could take care of themselves, and it was certainly easier to help them do so if they stayed close.

And keeping them close meant more allies for what Spot had planned.

Spot was 13 when he challenged for king.

He didn’t have a choice. Joe was getting increasingly cruel, soaking anyone who so much as objected to any of his decisions and taxing the kids whatever he decided was fair for the right to sell in Brooklyn. With the amount he was charging, none of them would last much longer.

Spot knew the fight would be to the death. He knew Joe was a lot bigger and a lot more experienced, at 19, and he absolutely would kill Spot for posing a serious challenge.

But if it gave his friends the chance to survive, if it gave someone else a chance at winning another challenge, it would be worth it.

Making his first kill was the hardest thing Spot had ever done, but he did it, and he became the king of Brooklyn.

It wasn’t his last kill, either.

Over the next couple years, he had to kill Scarf’s father, and a particularly bloodthirsty gangster, and a few boys who tried to challenge for king. But he never enjoyed it, and it was all in defense of his kids, because as king he had to care for all of Brooklyn now. They were all his responsibility.

Still, the title of king meant a certain level of fear, which meant that none of them could care about him the way they cared about each other. And though a few others helped as much as they could, he was largely running the borough alone.

Spot was 14 when Hotshot showed up, an big, strong, angry 12-year-old who’d fight anyone who looked at him funny. The perfect second for a young king who needed to establish his reputation. All he had to do was tell the boy where to aim his anger, and people assumed that if he could get a kid like Hotshot under his thumb, he had to be just as aggressive.

But Spot didn’t let his second soak people who didn’t deserve it. He didn’t do it himself, either. He wouldn’t be like the kings he’d grown up under and let innocent kids get hurt for no reason. Spot swore it that first night when he killed Joe Harris and he did his best to uphold it. He would rather die than be like those tyrants, those power-drunk boys who didn’t care who they got killed.

Well, at least there was one thing about Spot that set him apart from the other kings, but it wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

If his friends (it still felt odd to call them that) had been cracks in the dam, Racetrack Higgins was the first wave of water that broke it down, only...

Race never pushed, never forced. He just proved that Spot could trust him over and over again, despite being Manhattan. He was kind and compassionate despite being willing to gamble grown men out of their pay. He was funny and brave and though he could talk his way out of most fights, he’d throw himself into one without hesitation for someone else’s sake.

And though Spot had known him since he was 12 and Race was 11, it wasn’t until years later that he realized.

Spot was 15, Race was 14, and Spot realized that he was well and truly screwed, because though he’d started letting others in a little, the problem was that the person he wanted to keep the closest, the person he trusted most, was a Manhattan boy. Was Race.

He loved Race. And that made him queer, and that was dangerous.

Of course that wasn’t exactly a fun realization, especially with how Race didn’t feel the same.

He couldn’t, right? Because Spot’s own mother hadn’t wanted him. Palomino had only cared for him as a sparring partner. His friends feared him and Bluebird and Hotshot only claimed he was like a big brother to them because they had no one else who even pretended to give a rat’s ass about them.

Race couldn’t want him, too, couldn’t love him back, because nobody really loved him. Spot had accepted that maybe him loving other people was inevitable, but he wasn’t stupid enough to think they would love him, too.

Spot was 16 and Race was 15 when he found out that wasn’t completely true.

Because they’d been in the middle of a fight. Spot was facing a potential king challenger and he’d wanted Race to sell in Manhattan for a few days so he’d be out of harm’s way. But while Race wouldn’t push on sensitive topics, he would fight against what he didn’t think was fair. He thought Spot needed as many allies close by as he could get.

Spot had gotten him pinned against the wall, yelling in the other boy’s face, and then he’d found out that his belief that no one wanted him couldn’t be true, because Race had kissed him to shut him up.

And Spot knew Race. He knew that he didn’t do anything halfway. If he was your friend, he was ride or die for you. Joey and Bart were his cousins, and they said he’d always been that way, diving into things head first, throwing his everything behind every move he made, confident that he was right.

Spot knew Race. He knew that Race didn’t feel anything halfway, either. He knew that to kiss him, Race would have to feel the exact same way he did, which was why he let himself kiss back, at least until he had to pull back and tell him again to leave the borough for a few days.

Race told him not to bother sending someone to tell him it was safe to come back until he was ready to talk, and Spot spent two long weeks winning against the latest challenger, but ultimately showing the kid mercy, then mulling over whether or not he wanted to send someone over to get Race.

He did, but he wasn’t sure if he should.

Spot was terrified.

He’d tried so long to keep everyone out of his heart. He’d fought even Race on that for a while after they met, not trusting that caring about him would lead to anything other than sorrow.

He still struggled with that, even as he sat with Bluebird and Scarf and the other Littles until they fell back asleep if they had a nightmare. Even as he enjoyed card games with Joey, Hildy, Hotshot, Vince, York, and Bart. Even as he attempted to make amends with Rafaela, his oldest friend, who was still cold to him.

Besides that struggle, any serious relationship was a stupid idea for a king. Spot had watched kings from his childhood lose anyone they genuinely cared about, one way or another. He’d watched them grieve siblings, lovers, friends, or were betrayed by one of the above and lost their lives for it. People you cared about were weaknesses, and weaknesses could be exploited if you weren’t careful, and that wasn’t even counting how Race was a boy.

Being a boy who loved another boy could make you disappear. And Spot was a hell of a lot better of a fighter than Moony had ever been, but that type of fighting was always only about protecting himself.

...or was it?

Spot had tried for years to not think of his old mentor, but now that he was thinking of her...

Palomino was a master manipulator because she knew how people’s minds worked.

She would know that even if she could win a challenge, Brooklyn wouldn’t respect her as king, a girl with no one but a bunch of Littles backing her up. But she would know that while she couldn’t be king, she could train someone to end the cycle of tyrants.

She would know that whoever she trained would have to be someone who wanted to be better than the bad kings they’d suffered under.

And she would know that whoever she trained had to be someone who had proved their willingness to fight for others multiple times.

What had she told Spot the one time he’d tried to ask her why she was teaching him to fight?

“Because you’s the only one who stands a chance. It has to be you.”

At the time, he’d thought she meant that he was the only one tough enough to survive her training, but...

She’d been playing the long game with Spot the whole time. She’d taught him to fight counting on the fact that he’d challenge for king one day and she hadn’t cared if she got to see it because she knew he’d win.

It hadn’t mattered that she didn’t live to see his reign because the king she’d made sure he’d have Brooklyn’s support out of loyalty instead of fear. A Brooklyn boy, born and raised, who could take care of himself in a fight but didn’t think of himself first.

It half made Spot want to punch her, for manipulating his entire childhood, but honestly, he wasn’t sure how much would be different if she hadn’t chosen him. He would have tried to challenge for king anyway, only he probably would have lost.

It was a hard decision, to be angry or grateful to her, and Spot’s verdict changed hourly, but he kept thinking about another thing Palomino had once told him.

That one day, he’d see the appeal of Manhattan.

Well, he saw that it was Race’s home, and he was safe there.

He saw that Jack Kelly himself was almost definitely queer, that there were plenty of teenage kids who fit the type and hadn’t disappeared yet. He saw how the Manhattan kids were unapologetic and how they didn’t even judge each other, for the most part. They were more of a family than Brooklyn and they weren’t scared to be who they were and love who they loved, be it platonic or something more.

Spot had to wonder how different he’d be, if he’d been taken in by Manhattan instead of Brooklyn. If he’d grown up alongside Jack and Race and Crutchie instead of Rafaela and York and Bart.

It was startling to realize that he didn’t want to know. Because despite the sacrifices he’d made, everyone he’d lost, Spot still loved his home and his fellow newsies.

But he also loved Race, and even if it would be easier to push him away, to use this as an excuse in his mind to push everyone away, Spot didn’t want to.

He was tired of pushing people away see. It never worked, anyway, and in the end, it didn’t make you any stronger. It just meant you were running from something you couldn’t escape.

So he sent Bluebird to tell Race to meet him on the docks that night, and as nerve-wracking as it was when he managed to get his courage up, he kissed Race first that night.

Spot was 16 when he finally stopped running away from his feelings. From letting himself care about people even if he still had trouble showing it.

Spot was 16 when he finally started running towards home.

...

Sorry this gets a little incoherent towards the end. I was tired when I wrote it.

#newsies #sprace #spot conlon #racetrack higgins #brooklyn newsies #rafaela newsies #york newsies #joey newsies #bart newsies #hildy newsies #vince newsies #hotshot newsies #oc: palomino #oc: bluebird #angst #character dive fic #canon era #violet’s writing

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deliciouspeachpirate · 4 years

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Affectionate Newsies Headcanons Part 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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apollo-writes-random-shit · 4 years

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Id love to see “Run Boy Run” with Race and Jack please!! I love your writing

Ahhh thanks! I’m really fucking sorry that this took so long! I kept losing motivation and stuff like that whoops. I hope you enjoy even though you can probably see the parts I gave up lol. Also, I don’t know why but for some reason, I decided to research about the real lodging house and included that in here because ???? Who the FUCK knows.

TWs: Mentioned abuse and one small scene (Snyder slaps Jack( and attempted drugging (Jack tries to slip Snyder a sleeping drug so he and Race could escape). Briefly mentioned homophobia.

Also, for most of the story, Jack and Race go by ‘Francis and Tony’. In this world, some people are born with powers and because I like to torture myself, I decided to go through about fifty different names to what to call people like that instead of just saying they’re magic????

Also, I threw in some ocs, so yeah.

Francis knew his very existence was hated by people in his town. Well, at least the ones who knew what he was. A small-town mindset like the one he lived in was horrible for someone...Different. For someone who was a Cosma. Someone with powers was an outcast in his town. A monster to some. One of the only people who knew was his step-father and he held his status above his head, always threatening to out him, but he could handle it.

However, he knew the new kid wouldn't be able to handle it. One look at he knew that the boy was like him. A Cosma but he hadn't shown many signs yet. Francis knew the second Snyder caught on to the fact that Tony was a shifter and communicator, the boy's life would become a hell of abuse and experiments. The things that had happened so far were easy to explain as a trick of the light. Different eyeshade? That was the light. Slightly sharper teeth? Nah, your eyes are playing tricks on you, Sir, there's no need to worry.

Francis couldn't help but wonder which of them was more powerful. His new brother with the ability to shapeshift and control horses with his voice, or himself with the power to bring drawings to life. He placed his bets on Tony. The boy was a double after all.

Francis knew they had to get out and after a month of searching, he finally found a way. Someone had agreed to help him travel to a safer place, one where he could be himself. Where others would help him and his brother no matter what

Run boy run! This world is not made for you.

The small town had him trapped. He and his brother didn't belong there, but his contact promised him freedom. Sure, there wasn't much fresh air there like there was here in Santa Fe but New York offered freedom...A place where Tony could grow up without having to hide a major part of himself.

He was scared though. He somehow needed to sneak not only himself but Tony out of the house in the middle of the night and get across town in the middle of the night so the two could cross the town borders and escape for a better life.

It would be worth it though. If it meant Tony was safe, it would all be worth it. He'd lay his life down for his little brother and he knew that his brother wouldn't like it if he found out but it was the truth. Tony meant everything to Francis and he'd give up anything for the younger boy.

But even planning to escape was hard. Francis wasn't a moron. He knew Snyder had placed trackers in all of his clothes, though, that wasn't the most obvious thing. The most obvious tracker was the dog tags each boy wore under strict orders not to take them off at any point.

Tony may find no issue in it but Francis did. He knew it wasn't for their 'safety'. No. It was for Snyder's. Snyder knew that Francis could out him at any time. Multiple bruises and scars weren't easy to explain away when at least one of them was a brand baring Snyder's name, set on the back of his shoulder.

There was no way he could hide the truth if anyone was to ever see that so it was vital he kept tabs on the boys at all times. After all, he didn't want his image of a respected man to be ruined.

But Francis' contact already had a plan for that. Spare clothes would be brought for the boys and their own would be thrown somewhere once they left town, along with the dog tags. He was also bringing a friend who could easily disable things in case Snyder had injected them with a tracker.

Run boy run! They're trying to catch you!

Tonight was the night. Francis had everything planned and all he could do was hope that it would work. It was dangerous, but any plan that had to do with running away was and if he could ruin the man's reputation at the same time, he'd gladly do so.

He knew that the second he stepped out of his 'house', Francis Sullivan and Tony Higgins would be dead and two boys without identities would be born but he was okay with that. The two could find themselves new names and Snyder would never be able to hurt them again. He'd be okay. They both would be okay. Even if Snyder moved to New York which he had mentioned a few times, he wouldn't be able to touch them. He wouldn't be able to know who they were. e

It was surprisingly easy to slip the drugs into Snyder's beer, something that he was terrified of doing. After all, he could be caught doing it but luckily, the man was already drunk and didn't seem to notice a difference. Idly, Francis tapped his fingers on his leg, knowing that the ten minutes would be the longest ten minutes of his life but he had been assured that the man would sleep for hours, giving him and his brother time to run.

Still, he couldn't help but question everything. What if he hadn't put enough in? What if someone walked in before he and Tony could escape and realized something was up? What if they got caught on the edge of town and returned to Snyder's house? What if they got locked up? His brother wouldn't survive in jail and he knew he wouldn't survive Snyder's torture if they were sent back. He wasn't sure if both of them would survive but he knew that Tony wouldn't. As much as he loved him, Francis knew the younger boy was weak and would make for easy prey for the sadistic man who took him in.

His heartbeat raced each time he saw the man shift until he was finally sure he was asleep. Swallowing, he took a few silent steps, only to have a hand roughly grasp his thin wrist. Shit. He forgot Snyder was a master at hiding things. The asshole had never even drunk the beer. He had just pretended to drink it when he wasn't looking.

"How stupid do you think I am boy? You think I haven't caught onto your little plan?" The man stared up at the frightened teen with a blank face. "I'm the reason you're still alive Francis and you're trying to throw it in my face like an ungrateful brat?"

"I.."

"I know what you're planning. You're trying to leave aren't you?"

"N-no Sir! It's just I know you haven't been sleeping well lately so I thought I c-could help!" Francis could fill the panic building up, wondering how long Snyder had known about his plan. He couldn't help but wonder if he knew all of the plan or only that he wanted to leave and take his brother with him.

Before he could open his mouth again, he found himself laying on the ground, cheek stinging. He hadn't even registered the loud crack that came with the slap. Taking a few seconds to collect himself, he looked up, staring at the man, eyes holding hatred disguised with fear. Snyder was right. If it weren't for him Francis would be dead and so would Tony, but he didn't care. The man may have kept him alive but that didn't mean he had to stay and be grateful. He always seemed five minutes away from killing Francis so there was no way he would be thankful for that.

He was drawn out of his thoughts at a thunk, watching as his so-called 'step-father' fell to the ground. His eyes drifted to the shaking boy standing above the fallen man, thick math book clutched in his small hands.

Quickly, he snatched the shaking boy up and ran, refusing to look back. He hadn't even told Tony what was happening. All the boy knew was that Francis had been thinking about something important. "W-What's going on?"

"Don't worry kid. We're gonna be safe soon." At least, that's what he hoped. They had already been caught once but they were close to the edge of their small town and he could just see a small group of people, each holding the reins to at least one horse. He couldn't but let out a sigh of relief, dodging around small holes in the road, feeling the boy's grip tighten. Tony didn't really like strangers but if Francis trusted them...He could try.

Run boy run! Running is a victory!

"Didn't realize how many people you were bringing Rags."

"Needed someone to help bring the horses 'nd stuff. Plus, they'se the best ta help out. Specs here can disable any trackers the Spider might a put in ya, Albert will help us light fires 'nd shit. Sniper 'nd Finch can keep an eye on the surrounding area. Patches and Bink will help wit' any disguises we need." The older teen gestured to each boy, each member of the ragtag crew ranging in age with Patches and Rags being the oldest though not by many years. "They'se all 'Hattan newsies like I am. Hotshot 'nd Rai are from Brooklyn though."

Tony honestly was surprised at how young Rai was. The boy didn't look a day over eight yet somehow had been brought along for the small mission.

"I didn't want ta bring him but the kid wouldn't stop botherin' me. I guess he could be useful." Despite the words, Hotshot's face held a faint fond smile, hand ruffling the boy's hair. "He's a communicator after all."

"You're all Cosmas?"

"Yeah. That's why they're helping us, Tony. They'll get us somewhere safe. Speaking of wish, we should leave right now. Dunno how long the Spider will be out. Tried drugging him but he caught me so Tony knocked his ugly fat ass out."

Rags nodded towards one of the horses with a grin. "Hope ya know how to ride cause that's how we'se headin' ta New York."

"Not really but we'll figure it out." Francis shrugged, carefully placing his brother in the saddle before pulling himself up, reaching around the boy to grab the reins. Surely it wouldn't be that hard to ride a horse. At least, it seemed calm and with Tony there, he felt that the horse would at least listen to them. That and they had everyone else to guide them.

The two blinked, feeling a small gentle tingle flow through their body. Specs smiled at the two. "It's all disabled but we'll still dump your stuff on the way. Otherwise, the change of clothes we carried here for you guys would be a waste."

Albert smirked, gently tapping his horse's sides with his heels. "Let's ride ya morons!" With that small whoop, the boy raced off, sparks flying from his red hair. Rolling his eyes, Rags chuckled, riding off after him to make sure the reckless boy wouldn't do something stupid.

Sniper looked over at the two boys they were bringing along with them. "Don't worry. She'll follow us so just focus on ya balance and try to relax. She'll be able ta tell if you're all tense 'nd shit. 'Sides, your ass will hurt if you're stiff. Especially considering ya've never ridden before." With a soft click, the boy started the journey home, causing the brothers' horse to follow them, Specs, Finch and Hotshot riding with the two, the Manhattan boys alongside them as Hotshot brought up the rear, watching as his own baby brother raced off.

At first, he never wanted to come and help 'rescue' the two because it meant losing money, but he owed Rags a favour and the older boy had decided to cash it in. Besides, Spot had been acting like an asshole lately and he could do with some time apart from him, even if they were best friends.

Shaking his head, he freed one hand from the reins, only moving it back after adjusting his bag. He couldn't help but wonder what the boys in front of him were like. Rags had given them a short briefing but seeing the angry red mark on the older one's cheek reminded him that there really were fucked up people in the world and by coming here, he was helping to do the right thing.

The fact Specs had confirmed that trackers had been placed in their bodies just worried him even more. At least they were free now. They were safe from the house that they had been trapped in.

Run boy run! Beauty lays behind the hills.

Sure New York wasn't the most glamorous of places but to Rags, it was home and now, Manhattan would house two more newsies. They'd get new names later but for now, they would be nameless. He smiled to himself, looking over his shoulder at the figures riding behind him. He could tell that they would fit in with the rest of his family.

The rest of the Manhattan kids knew that he was bringing home two more kids except for once, they weren't from New York.

Tony sighed, leaning into his brother as he closed his eyes. It felt weird running away and guilt was settling in his stomach from the memory of knocking out the man who took him in. He knew Snyder was cruel but he had never laid a hand on him...Only laying hands-on Francis who couldn't fight back. He had never actually seen it but he had heard it countless times. Had seen the way his brother stumbled into their small bedroom before collapsing on his bed, hiding his face in the pillow in an attempt to hide his tears from the boy who looked up to him so much. But Tony saw them each time. Saw the way his body had shuddered and heard the muffled noises that escaped him. He knew Francis couldn't be strong 24/7, no matter how hard he tried.

But now that they had gotten out of there, maybe Francis wouldn't have to take the hits for him. Maybe now he wouldn't have to curl up in bed, trying his best to hide his shaking. He couldn't help but smile slightly as he closed his eyes, resting a hand on the mare's wither, calmly letting himself connect with her. Sliding his hand up, he gently ran his fingers through her mane, relishing in the feeling of the silky strands running through them.

At least with her, he'd feel safe on the journey that he had never expected to take. He couldn't wait to see what would happen when they reached New York. Despite only being with them for a short time, he found the boys charming in their own way, from Albert's excitement at riding off into the distance to Hotshot's firm yet protective presence behind them. He felt safe with them and that's what mattered to him right now and by the way, his brother had slowly relaxed behind him, he knew he felt the same.

With a soft nudge from his horse, he opened his eyes, taking in the appearance of the land around the group. It was something he had never seen before. Something he never expected to see. He couldn't help but grin, looking down slightly so he could watch the land race beneath her hooves. It was beautiful honestly. Much more beautiful than where he had been trapped mere hours ago.

Run boy run! The sun will be guiding you.

Leaning back, he felt Francis' arms tighten around him for a few seconds. Without even looking, he could tell the older teen was smiling as he too took everything in, awe filling his body.

The two were brought out of their thoughts as the horses slowed down, gently lit by the setting sun. Without Rags opening his mouth, Albert jumped off his horse, quickly gathering up wood, surprisingly serious considering the way he had been so hyper and willing to lead the group before. Carefully flicking his fingers at the pile he had made, the ginger grinned as flames burst up from the middle, quickly engulfing each bit of wood. "Fire's done! Who brought the grub?"

"Al ya always hungry."

"Oh shut up Snipes, I know you'se hungry as well." He grinned, dodging as his friend through his cap at his face. "I'll burn this if ya test me!"

Hotshot rolled his eyes, silently helping Tony off of the horse, setting him down as he watched Francis dismount. Well more like stumble as he slid off, almost falling on his ass. The Brooklyn boy forced himself to hold back a laugh while Albert did no such thing. He was more than happy to laugh at the poor teen despite knowing that he'd never rode a horse, let alone for hours at a time while leaving an abusive house far behind them.

Specs just sighed, shaking his head as he grabbed his pack, having been the one trusted to carry the food for the three-day trip. "Alright alright. We can 'ave dinner now. Calm ya shit DaSilva."

The two brothers looked at each other in confusion before nervously moving towards the fire to sit down with the people who came to save them. The group might be helping them but the two still didn't know how much they could trust them. Francis had been desperate, grasping onto the first offer of salvation. The first offer to drag him out of the mental river he was drowning in, being dragged further under the surface with each hit, each insult, each threat both against him and his brother.

So when a cocky boy from Manhattan had shown up to deliver something to his neighbour and pulled him aside to tell him that he couldn't hide from him. That he knew what he was, Francis, had been terrified but the skinny boy had offered him a free trip to where he'd be welcome, a seed had been planted in his brain, but at the same time, he was full of doubt. Why would this stranger offer to take them to where he lived? How had he known what he was? He had been given two weeks to think about it and by the time Rags returned with his small group of friends, the seed had grown and he had agreed the day the group arrived.

Rags sighed as he sat down, watching as Finch scaled a tree, a bird soon swooping down to join him after the boy let out a soft whistle. "So, have you thought 'bout a name yet?"

Francis shook his head. "Not yet. It's not easy honestly to think of one."

"Eh take ya time. After all, you'll be stuck wit' it." Rai hummed, idly poking the fire with a stick, ignoring the warning look his older brother gave him. "You can keep the one you have now, shorten it, change it or just give yaself a nickname and run with it. If you don't think of one, 'Hattan might just give you one."

Tony looked up at his brother startled. "Names? Are we changing our names?" Finch just grinned from his perch. "I mean, as Rai said, you don't have to but sometimes it's easier to just change it...A lot of us are running from something and it's helpful to change our name. Finch ain't my real name 'nd Specs wasn't called Specs by his birth family. That came from us newsies cause o' his glasses."

Said boy chuckled, adjusting his glasses. "I should admit that it didn't appeal to me at first but it grew on me."

Albert grinned. "Don't bullshit us. The main reason you like it is that Romeo kept calling you it."

"And you take Albie cause that Jojo boy. You're both hopeless idiots." Rai shook his head with a grin. "Manhattan's weird like that. Rai is just short for my name and you're being all gay 'nd shit and that's why you accepted your newsie names."

Tony's eyes widened, surprised that they were speaking so openly about something that Snyder said was wrong. Well, 'said' was the wrong word. The man attempted to force his own ideal into his charges' minds, not wanting them to think for themselves. It's wrong. You'll go to hell for looking at a boy the way you should be looking at a girl Tony.

But these boys didn't seem to be 'cursed' as Snyder said gays were. They seemed...The way everyone else was, just more friendly but not in a strange way. No, they were just joking around like brothers. They were people who were comfortable in their own skin while Francis and Tony weren't. They both had confided in each other that they had each secretly looked at boys the way Snyder and others in their former home condemned people for. These boys may tease each other but it was friendly, it was in an attempt to make each other flustered. That meant they'd be even safer in the Manhattan lodging house.

After a few minutes, Specs handed around the cooked meat, warning the group that it was still hot. "You'll be safe in a few days. As for now, just relax though we need to burn your clothes soon just in case ya know?" He smiled over at the two nervous teens. "Don't worry, we brought you spare clothes. One of the boys back home made them fa ya. That's why Rags asked for ya size."

"Buttons is great...Gonna need him to fix my shirt though." Albert sighed, looking at a rip in his shirt. "Don't even know when I tore it. I swear it wasn't like this when we left!"

"It's called you're a fucking clumsy moron who fell in a river because you thought getting off your horse before walking over a fallen tree was smarter than the bridge."

Tony couldn't help but laugh, knowing he had done something similar before. Sure it got him into trouble because he made a mess when he got home but he had a good time so it didn't matter.

Run boy run! They're dying to stop you! Run boy run! This race is a prophecy! Run boy run! Break out from society!

Yelling brought the small group back into the world of the woken, Tony and Francis instantly freezing. Snyder and his friends had found them and the two knew they'd stop at nothing to get their hands on the two.

"Shit. Get back on the horses. We should have dumped your clothes earlier but I didn't want to stop for a while just in case." Rags quickly jumped back on his horse, watching as his newsies rushed around to pack up their small camp before jumping on their horses. Hotshot had already boosted Rai onto his horse before getting on his own, Albert helping Francis and Tony up onto theirs. The second the red-head was on his own horse, the ground raced off, the newsies pretending that they didn't hear Tony's soft and scared sobs mixed with Francis' soft words of comfort.

They hadn't been planning to move so fast but they had to otherwise they'd all be in trouble. "Finch! Sniper!"

"On it!" The two boys quickly pulled out their slingshots, each loading small sparklers into them, firing them off in different directions in hopes of distracting their pursuers. Despite not being given orders from his leader, Albert set off small flaming balls, sending them away from himself, making sure they were small enough to avoid setting the nearby trees on fire.

Hotshot sighed, raising his voice so the two scared kids in front of him could hear. "Don't worry. The 'Hattan boys know what they're doing, even if they don't seem like it most of the times. We'll keep you safe."

"See Tones? We'll be safe. Promise." Francis tightened his arm around his brother, wondering if his words would prove to be true or if they were would become false. He just hoped that they'd get away and find their way to New York as Rags had promised.

With a single whistle from Rai, animals seemed to flood from every corner of the forest before they rushed towards the sounds of the group chasing them down.

Each second seemed like an eternity to the two brothers, their hearts both frozen still and beating erratically at the same time. While the horses were speeding up by the second, they seemed to be forcing their way through snow with Tony and Francis feeling the chill while no one else did.

Their safety...No, their lives were on the line here and each member of the small party knew it. If one person were to get caught, it'd be over for everyone. They all knew the risks that came with this mission and had accepted the idea that they may be caught but that didn't mean they weren't scared shitless as the idea swirled inside their minds, taunting them with what their future could hold. It was clear that Cosmas' weren't welcome in the town they were fleeing from but right now, they had to shove that thought away, focusing instead of escaping.

The shouts faded behind them but that didn't slow down the group, if anything, it pushed them to go faster just in case the group had decided to fall silent in hopes of catching them off guard. Granted, Francis wasn't sure if Snyder and his pals were smart enough to do that but still, you never know.

They ate lunch on the run, Specs moving to each person to hand them small sandwiches before moving back to his own spot. Sure, the plan had been to eat warm meat with the sandwiches for a snack but plans sometimes change on the fly and newsies were masters at changing things instantly. After all, there were times they had to quickly run from where they were selling to escape the clutches of the police.

The group rode through the night, their way lit by Albert's flames, only pausing for an hour or so by a river to allow their horses a break to drink, each boy quickly shoving food into their mouths, too on edge to take their time.

Specs sighed, looking up at the stars, tracing each constellation with his eyes, remembering all the stories he had been told by an older newsie. "We'll be there in two days. We'll stop by Brooklyn ta return the horses and drop Hotshot and Rai off before headin' across the bridge."

Tony nodded, curling up next to Encore, the mare nuzzling her young rider. "Is New York really as big as they say? Fat-...Snyder always said that it's big." Despite correcting himself, the fact that he had almost called Snyder his 'Father' filled his stomach with guilt and anxiety.

Albert grinned and nodded. "There's a lot of us newsies from all over New York. We'se the Kings 'nd Queens of the damn place! Sure we ain't the richest but we'se the people who help spread the news. Without us, the damn city will shut down." He chuckled under his breath. "You'll be 'Hattan boys in a few days...We'se the second most important borough in my mind. I would say the most important but that's Brooklyn. They're the real rulers in the Newsie world. They've got the toughest folks there."

Rai snorted and nodded. "Damn right we do! We'se'll soak anyone we need ta. No one messes wit' us if they have a good mind. We'll kick their asses if needed. No one messes wit' us and it's great!"

Hotshot rolled his eyes, setting his small bowl of thin stew aside so he could gently slap his brother on the back of the head, gently chuckling at the boy's mock offended cry. "Don't go boasting 'bout it ya nerd. We're not that bad. We're just tougher than most of than the New York newsies." He looked over at the two new boys, picking up his stew again. "Simply put, don't mess wit' us and we don't mess wit' you...Though that's really any place I guess. We're just respected more than everyone else in our world."

Francis nodded, filing the information away. He knew what it was like to get on someone's bad side and the idea of a whole New York borough after him was frightening to him. The bullies he had faced were one thing but the idea of having stronger people after him was terrified. Hotshot already proved that all of Brooklyn was strong, just by his arms and Francis didn't feel like the idea of throwing hands with him or any of his friends. He was pretty sure Rai could easily break his arm despite being eight.

Blink groaned, speaking up for the first time. "We get it. Ya, all tough 'nd scary now shut up. I'se wanna sleep." He adjusted his eyepatch, not bothering to look over at the group. "You all take to much."

"Aww, ya just a spoilsport Blink. First thing ya say is to tell everyone to shut up?" Albert couldn't do anything but laugh as Blink flipped him off. "Someone's just grumpy he had to leave his boyfriend behind."

"Or maybe I'm sick o' your dumbass voice." Idly, the boy pulled his eyepatch to the side, glaring at his friend with a glazed over eye. "I can fucking destroy you Albert DaSilva. Remember that."

"I'm sooooo scared."

Patches sighed, knowing that it was time he should step in, his soft voice floating above the crackling of the fire. "Both of you stop being morons. We're heading out as soon as we can in the morning. Rags and I'll take the first watch, Blink and Specs will take next than it'll be Hotshot and Al. That's all we'll need really need because it'll be light enough by the time your shift is up and we'll be able to have a quick breakfast before going again. We'll be home very soon. Two days and we'll be done and we can relax and go back to selling and stuff. We'se'll get Tony 'nd Francis set up as soon as we can. We'll probably be back during the day." Noticing Tony's subtle glances towards Blink's eyepatch, he smiled. "Don't bother askin'. He tells a different story each time so no one knows what actually happened ta his eye."

"Oh...Okay. Sorry for staring."

Blink just grinned at him. "Don't worry 'bout it. You'se starin' without hate or disgust or whatever. Ya just interested is all. But yeah. I'm up for taking watch wit' Specs. Now, all o' you zip ya mouths so I can get some shut-eye." With that, he slipped his cap over his face after tucking his eyepatch into his pocket.

Albert chuckled softly but listened, pulling his blanket up over him after gently coaxing the fire to burn a little brighter before eventually falling asleep, his teasing turning into soft breaths that were soon joined by the breathing of others, knowing that his brothers and friends were safe under the watch of his leader and said leader's second.

It took Francis awhile to be comfortable enough to fall asleep, each small noise causing him to subtly flinch, scared that they had been tracked down yet again. It took the comforting presence of his brother who was silently breathing as he held onto his shirt mixing with the fires and the soft chatter of the two boys who were going to be watching over them for a few hours.

Despite his fear, he fell into a deep sleep, only woken by the feeling of Tony gently shaking him. The second the teen was sure the elder was awake, the blond moved to help clear up camp, silently watching slight awe as Albert easily put out the coals with a single wave of his hand, making sure they wouldn't light again.

Francis hummed, feeling his new shirt slip slightly as he stretched. Soon, he would be in a place that accepted who he was, among those who were like him and his brother.

Tomorrow is another day, and you won't have to hide away

It was a new day, one that was bringing the promise of freedom ever closer. Coming out of his thoughts at the feeling of bread being shoved into his hands, a familiar cheeky grin greeting him as he looked down, chuckling at his brother's puffy cheeks. The bread role was small yet for some reason, Tony had felt the need to shove most of it into his mouth at once. Though once he looked at Albert due to the sound of choking, he realized it was most likely a dare or a challenge designed to test the hubris of the two teens, clearly set by a smirking Rai.

He could already tell that moving into the Manhattan lodging house would just increase his brother's not so concealed chaotic tendencies. He sighed, a silent chuckle escaping him as he chewed on his own small role, awkwardly standing still when Rags assured him that he didn't need to do anything to help to pack up camp.

It didn't take them long to start up their journey again, with laughter and friendly taunts filling the air instead of the fear and silent tears that had been their unwelcome comrade the last ride.

Adjusting his cap, Finch grinned and carefully shuffled back slightly before carefully raising to his feet, having slipped off his shoes over an hour ago. Calmly, he pulled out a small stone, biting his lip as he aimed for a familiar head. He couldn't help but let out a whoop as Sniper's head whipped around, the other boy glaring at his fellow shooter. "Finch I swear ta fucking God!"

"Don't swear at me."

"Albert ya ain't God!"

Hotshot just sighed, ignoring the laughter of the other boys, speeding up so he could take matters into his own hands, knowing full well the arguing newsies probably wouldn't listen to their leaders in this situation. In his mind, the Manhattan boys tended to be more chaotic and at times disobedient than the boys who lived with him. Not that it was surprising. Other than being known for being tough, Brooklyn newsies were known to be well-disciplined despite the way a new ruler could come to power by fighting the current one and they listened to each other.

"Alright, you guys. Shut ya traps before I make you." Sure, that caused the two shooters to aim for him for a few seconds but it was easy for him to dodge considering the two were ever so slightly intimidated by him, despite knowing he wouldn't actually do anything to them.

"You're no fun." Despite his annoyed words, Finch carefully moved back to the saddle, sitting down again, not wanting to test the Brooklyn boy too much.

Rags just shook his head with a smile, looking at the sky, narrowing his eyes in an attempt to avoid the sun's rays as he judged the time. He knew by now that they most likely wouldn't be tracked down anymore considering how far away from the tiny town they had come from. His new brothers were safe and that's all that mattered right now. Soon, he'd be back with the rest of his family and he'd be bringing in two new members.

He could tell already that they'd fit in almost instantly though he knew that they'd naturally come to terms with what had happened and that they were safe...That they could grow up properly.

You'll be a man, boy! But for now, it's time to run, it's time to run!

However, they still had a while to go before they would be racing around the streets of Lower Manhattan, selling papers to random people to pay the six cents needed to pay for a bed and batch at the lodging house. His smile widened slightly as he thought of the meals that a few extra cents would get him. Pork and beans on Monday, Thursdays, and Saturdays. Roast beef on Sunday and beef stew on Tuesdays. Corned beef and cabbage came on Wednesday and fish balls were served on Fridays. If he focused hard enough, he could not only taste the meals he often paid for but also taste the tea and bread that each meal was accompanied with. The newsie could practically smell the soup that was often served with pork and beans. Just the thought of the meals made him feel full and he couldn't wait to return for dinner again.

Sure, breakfast was also served but why pay for it when you could get food off the nuns before rushing to the gates? Though he couldn't lie. There were times he spent money on some cents on some oatmeal in the morning, savouring the small burn that came as he quickly ate it. Some of the boys may tease him for buying both food and getting free coffee from the nuns but he didn't care.

Patches grinned, looking over at his brother who rode with closed eyes, able to picture what the other was thinking about. He too loved meal times at the lodging house, even if everything just repeated with not much change. It was nice to know what to expected and if he wanted a change, he could always save up a little extra and buy something at Jacobi’s or even just ask if he could take some leftovers with him.

He knew everyone, not just the newsies that stayed in the large building looked forward to the nightly meals, shared in a large room, surrounded by friends as they joked about what sort of customers they had dealt with that day, lowering their voices whenever they felt the need to swear, knowing full well it was against the rules.

He sighed softly, looking ahead, wishing he could see the familiar outline of New York on the horizon, yet he saw nothing but the landscape he had seen on the way to pick up the two boys.

Focusing on his companions, he swallowed back a laugh as he heard Rai explaining newsie rules to Francis and Tony while Hotshot corrected him when needed. After all, the life of a newsie was far more complex than the life they had just left behind. The life was full of tricky politics between boroughs where one wrong move could incite a war which would just bring every newsie across the whole damn city involved which was never a clean thing. No war was clean really but newsies were a group of kids who handled their wars with fists while the leaders scrambled to arrange a deal. Though, from the short time he's spent with these two kids, he could tell that they would be respectful, at least of the borders. Not that they would be going anywhere near them for a while. No new kid was ever allowed to sell near the borders for a few weeks just to make sure they learnt the ropes.

Run boy run! This ride is a journey to. Run boy run! The secret inside of you

Francis internally sighed, glad to see his little brother smiling and laughing along with those who had been strangers not too long ago. It was nice to see that the boy wasn't scared of them. He didn't know what he'd do if the boy would be scared of those who they were now living with. No longer would the two have to walk on eggshells to avoid letting anyone know who they really were...What they were. No longer did they have to deal with Snyder, who seemed to always be a hair's breadth away from snapping at them, whether it be just yelling at Tony or hitting Francis across the face, shouting insults down the fallen boy who knew better than to yell back.

Sure, he himself was still a bit hesitant about being with the group but knew that it would be easier to disappear in New York than disappearing from a small town with no aid from an outside force. The smile and laughter coming from his thin brother made his worry worth it though.

He could still faintly hear his mother's final words as she lay on her death bed, finally admitting the abuse she had watched. "You'll escape one day Francis. I know you will. You'll find a way out of this hell hole. I'm sorry I didn't protect you and Tony. I'm so sorry baby."

Forcing himself out of his thoughts, he kissed his brother's head. His mother had been right. He was getting both him and Tony out of an abusive household. He felt like he could finally breathe properly for the first time since his mother had married the cursed man.

Slowly, he allowed his thoughts to be drowned out by the gentle shuffling of the leaves that the wind danced through as they raced through the trees, closer to their new destiny.

Run boy run! This race is a prophecy! Run boy run! And disappear in the trees!

Night settled around them once more, the moon and stars smiling down gently on the group of laughing boys who surrounded a crackling fire. Seeing that the two brothers were still nervous, the group took turns telling stories, ranging from safer ones to ones that had Rags and Patches lecturing their younger brothers on safety, having never heard such things come from the young teens' mouths.

Eventually, the stories died down, though the silence didn't last long, replaced with giggling and annoyed swears as Rai and Sniper attempted to roast marshmallows over Albert's flaming hair, not caring when the melted treat dripped into the red locks of the struggling boy clamped tightly in Blink's arms.

Soon after, the three were stopped, Albert wrestling the two boys as soon as he was free, laughter filling the air yet again even when the three were pulled apart.

Tony smiled as he stared up at the stars, opening his mouth to break the silence that eventually fell over the group, happy to tell them stories of the sky and stars, ones that he had learnt years ago, back when he was still oblivious to the cruelty that his older brother faced daily.

Eventually, the group settled down, knowing that they'd be back home by tomorrow night, able to relax in a proper bed, surrounded by their family once again instead of resting on the hard ground.

Tomorrow is another day, and you won't have to hide away.

The small crew grinned as they once again got settled on their horses, excitement buzzing through their veins, knowing that in a few hours that they would be home. It was as the air could sense it as well, sending a gentle breath to soothe their excitement, helping the group speed through the landscape, the horses gladly pushing themselves even more, already able to taste the treats they would rightfully get for the hard and long journey they had untaken.

Francis and Tony could both feel a small part that would miss riding through the open land, feeling the ache that came with a living creature speeding under them, carrying them where they wished, letting them feel the wind in their faces as they rode closer and closer to safety and a new life.

The newsies happily spoke of what they planned to do when they got home once again, excited to not only see their family and partners again but to invite and accept the two brothers into Manhattan. Albert grinned, already thinking up plans to annoy the Delancey brothers and their uncle at the gates, wondering if how easy it would be to draw Tony into his schemes, already knowing that the other had the sense for mischief that he had in his own soul. Sure, it might get Francis annoyed but he didn't care. He had a new brother and had to bring him into the life of chaos, so it could wrap him in its embrace, filling his mind with plans to commit with the redhead.

You'll be a man, boy! But for now, it's time to run, it's time to run!

Hotshot was relieved to almost be back in Brooklyn where he could just relax with his friends. Maybe take a dip in the river. Hell, he might throw Rai or Spot off the pier for shits and giggles, not caring about their reactions. They both could swim after all and it was normal for the boys to throw each other around sometimes and well, he deserved to have a little fun with his family after such a harsh journey. Sure, he hadn't been too happy to join the 'mission' in the first place but he had found himself enjoying himself. Sure, he lost money doing this but it was nice to escape the chaotic life that happened when you lived in New York while being poor.

No matter how hard and chaotic his life was, he found himself enjoying it. After all, it was better than working in a factory or at the pier, hauling stuff around or sailing on a boat, unsure if he'd ever return.

Yes, he hadn't been happy to come on this trip, nor was he happy for his baby brother to join him but to hear Rai laughing along with Tony as animals joined the ride for a short time before they pulled away, it was worth it. If he could get the young boy out of Brooklyn for a few days so he could get some fresh air and a change of pace, well...He'd do it a million times over. He wished he could take all the littles out for journies like this but alas, he couldn't. He had no reason to leave New York, let alone had the money to do so. Still, being able to take one of them out was an amazing feeling, one he wouldn't forget. Rai had lost too much at a young age yet always kept a grin. He deserved to be able to spend time, free in the land with wild animals rushing by him.

It's what the small child deserved.

Tomorrow is another day, and when the night fades away

Breaking for lunch just made all of them antsy, wanting to hurry up and get back home. Even Specs, a normally calm boy was bouncing on his toes, not bothering to hide his excitement at the idea of seeing everyone he cared about. He quickly scoffed down his sandwich, not caring about taking his time. He was going to be home soon and could take his time savouring all the tastes that came with a homecooked meal while surrounded by those he missed.

While the break only lasted thirty minutes, it felt like a lifetime to the small group. Their hearts started to beat faster with each step their tired horses took towards home.

Time travelled slowly, the stars starting to peak out again when New York's outline started to rise in the distance, an excited whoop escaping Albert as he urged his horse to go even faster, unwilling to wait any longer. He wanted...No needed to be back in that city. He loved fresh air but still, he craved the smog of New York. Couldn't wait for it to fill his lungs as he walked around feeling like a king despite people viewing him as nothing more than a street rat.

With the city in the distance, it was as if someone had pressed fast forward, landing the group at Sheepshead racetrack before they knew it. Hotshot couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of a short boy waiting near the empty stables. "Why am I not surprised you showed up Spot?"

"Wanted ta see the new 'Hattan boys fa myself." In all honestly, Spot had just wanted to see his brothers' safe returns was he wasn't going to say that in public. Besides, he couldn't help but be somewhat curious about the two new boys who would be joining the team just across the bridge. To him, it was easy to get a glimpse of what the boys had lived through. He hadn't been told much about them but judging by the bruise on the older boy's cheek, it was clear that they hadn't come from a nice place. Not that many of the newsies had come from a good place that is.

Considering Hotshot had said they were going to a small town, he could tell that it was a small town that hated people being born with powers, whether that hatred was born from jealously and fear or just out of pure stupidity, the Brooklyn native didn't know and he wasn't sure if he even cared to know.

Right now, he did his best to ignore where they had come from, instead, turning to Rai to talk about his trip, already knowing that the rules and boundaries had been explained. Even if they hadn't, the two looked smart, especially the blond who had decided to ignore everyone so he could focus on thanking his horse. God, were all Manhattan boys dorks? Shaking his head with a sigh, he clapped his hands. "Right. Curfew's comin' up in a bit so you'se best start gettin' back over the bridge."

"Giving orders now are we Conlon?"

"Blue's handlin' stuff in Queens so it's my job ta kick your bum asses out of Brooklyn. Now fuck off."

Rags rolled his eyes but still spat in his hand and held it out to the younger boy, nodding as he returned the gesture. "We'se'll get outta ya hair Conlon. Gotta get these two set up and Al looks ready to die."

"Oh fuck off I do not!" Despite his words, Albert was rocking ever so slightly, having not slept much the night before due to excitement. "Let's just clear out already. I don't wanna miss out on the food!"

Shaking his head, Rags laughed watching as Blink started shoving Albert around. "Yeah yeah. Tell Blue I said hi." He smiled at the two Brooklyn boys who had come along with his small crew. "Thanks you two. We'll be off now." With a single wave, the lanky teen ushered the others out of the racetrack grounds, chuckling internally at the way the two new brothers stuck together, looking around in both awe and suspicious hesitation.

Idly, his eyes scanned the crowd, easily able to notice who was a normal person and who was a newsie who were lurking around after selling, watching them silently to make sure they didn't break any rules, wanting the small group out of their turf, yet also silently relieved that they had returned safely as that meant their own had been returned as well.

Feet gently joined the countless others walking on the bridge, their voices mingling with those of people hurrying to and from Brooklyn. Before they knew it, they were back on their own side. Sensing their neves, Specs smiled over at his new brothers. "Don't worry. You'll get used to this all before you know it. I will warn you though...The lodging house can be loud and a bit overwhelming at times. You'll fit right in though. I already know it."

Francis just nodded before turning back to Patches, mumbling something under his breath, relaxing as the other smiled and nodded, allowing the group to lead him and his younger brother around.

You'll be a man, boy!

It didn't take long for them to find themselves walking down Duane Street, watching a few kids eagerly look up, some running towards them as others rushed off towards a building, no doubt to let them know of the groups return. Subconsciously, Francis took a closer to Tony, watching as Specs, Blink and Albert were almost tackled, each by a different boy, all dressed in the same ratty attire as the group.

Shaking his head, Rags nodded for the two brothers to follow him, leaving the six boys to reunite with their boyfriends. "They'll come along eventually so don't worry about the nerds. Let's just get you set up for now. Everyone's been dyin' ta meet you two, not just us newsies."

Grinning, he threw open the door to the lodging house, chuckling as he was greeted by cheers from a wide variety of kids. Silencing them with a single hand in the air, he grinned at the two new boys, remembering the few words Francis had muttered to him.

"Everyone! I'd like ta introduce you to Jack Kelly 'nd his little brother, Racetrack Higgins!"

But for now, it's time to run, it's time to run!

#Newsies #Jack Kelly #Racetrack Higgins #Albert Dasilva #Finch (newsies)#Specs (newsies)#Kid Blink #Blink (newsies)#Anonymous

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starboystation · 3 years

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hey id love to see your crutchie headcanons about his backstory!!

*sits* ok get ready this is gonna be a long one (under the cut!!)

Big tws for: abuse/abusive parent, death, self harm, mental health issues, suicide attempts, and abandonment (please let me know if I missed anything there!!)

OK SO. Crutchie (then he was just Charlie, he hadn't gotten his nickname yet) lived with his parents until he was around 7 or 8

His father was really abusive, both emotionally/verbally and physically

His mother, on the other hand, was an absolute godsend, one of the sweetest people you'd ever meet (that's where Crutchie got most of his kindness from, his mom was his biggest role model when he was young and she affected him a lot)

His father only continued abusing the both of them for years, but his mom tried to protect Crutchie as best she could

Eventually though, she gets sick and she's bedridden for a while, before passing away, which obviously breaks Crutchie to pieces. She was pretty much the only good thing in his life at that point, and now he's stuck with his father and no one else

After his mom passed away, the abuse only got worse, now turning into neglect as well, and Crutchie ended up getting sick with polio, which, obviously, affected his leg pretty bad

With everything happening at home, Crutchie starts getting really overwhelmed, and being a dumb reckless kids, grabs his crutch, his teddy bear, and his mom's old necklace, and just runs away in his pajamas without really thinking it through

After who knows how long of running, he ends up just hiding away in a little alley and just starts crying because obviously this was ,, a really bad idea

And eventually someone else finds him and introduces himself as Jack (!!!)

Jack calms him down and takes him over to the lodge, they'd planned to only keep him there for a week at the most, but obviously things didn't work out that way

Crutchie was really quiet for the first while he was there, for a week or so he didn't even say a word, just nodded or shook his head

Eventually he starts saying a few small things, but still never talked much as a result of trauma

Jack keeps popping by to check if Crutchie's doing alright and stuff, usually brings him food at the end of the day if he can

By now Crutchie begins to really trust Jack, and the two become best friends (yay!!)

They both went through really similar trauma, so they kinda help eachother out yknow :]

And soon enough Crutchie's selling papers by Jack's side just like a real newsie !! Woo woo!!

And everything seems fine and lovely up until the strike

Things had been just fine before then, but that's when Davey, Les, and Katherine come along

Jack suddenly starts hanging out with them all the time and Crutchie just tries to brush it off

At least until Jack calls Les his little brother and Crutchie's abandonment issues are going through the roof, cause Jack used to call Crutchie just the same thing, but now he's being replaced and he thinks Jack hates him and that he's not good enough and all that

Crutchie's mental health wasn't great in the first place, given he couldn't really get help for any of his trauma, but now he's just hit rock bottom

He keeps a smile on his face and acts like everything is fine so the others don't worry, everyone sees him as this soft happy lil boy and he can't bring himself to ask for help because he doesn't want anyone being disappointed in him or anything

But the moment he's alone he just breaks down entirely

Soon enough he ends up just resorting to self harm because he doesn't know how else to cope, which uh ,, doesn't end too well for him

Sometimes he sits up on the rooftop and just hangs his legs over the edge and just. Debates jumping off because it's all just too much for him to handle

There was only one time he actually tried, but he didn't think it through too much, and Jack woke up and managed to stop him before anything bad happened

He hadn't tried again since then but he ,, definitely Thinks about it

And all of this just keeps building up and his mental health just keeps getting worse and worse and worse

And then he ends up in the Refuge and just feels ,, so betrayed and abandoned and like Jack never cared about him

And deep down he knows it wasn't Jack's fault, he froze up because he was scared and didn't know what to do, but Crutchie still feels so awful thinking about it

And now he's right back to being abused and so many awful memories of his father start resurfacing because of it

By the time he's back he's hardly himself, he feels like he's an entirely different person

Everyone was so happy they won the strike but he'd just sit up on the rooftop and stare at the stars every night and just start to cry because he feels so unloved and unwanted here, but he can't bring himself to say a word about any of it and try to get help

Jack just keeps blowing him off over and over and making excuses not to hang out with him and sometimes he just wishes he was never born because every single day is just so painful for him

After a long time of dealing with it, he finally just asks Jack if they can talk up on the rooftop one night

And he reluctantly opens up about all of this and it hurts so much for him to talk about but he knows he can't go much longer staying silent about this

And Jack understands all too well what he's going through, he used to feel the same way, sometimes still does

So he helps Crutchie try to get a bit better and learn to talk about his feelings instead of taking them out on himself

Jack brings the whole thing up to Davey and they manage to gather up the money to get a few small therapy sessions for Crutchie because. He definitely needs it

And Crutchie tries to deny that he needs it but. Once he finally goes it helps a lot to talk about everything

And of course he never like, fully recovers but. He's happy now so that's what matters :]

ANYWAY I GOTTA GO TO BED NOW SO. THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME RAMBLE ABOUT THIS

(P.s. if anyone reblogs this, please don't say you relate to this/vent about things in the tags!! It happens a lot on posts like these and it's very upsetting for me /nm /srs)

#asks #anon #tw abuse #tw death #tw self harm #tw mental health #tw child neglect #tw suicide #tw suicidal thoughts #tw abandonment #tw trauma #ASK TO TAG. SERIOUSLY #headcanons

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autisticalbert · 4 years

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masterlist (... again!)

i changed blogs and also wrote a lot more in the past few weeks so i’m sharing my fics again because why not! also it’s like 1am and i’m thinking about my children but i can’t write so this is my outlet

i’m shutuprace on ao3!

you ever wonder what would happen?

the painfully overdone falling-in-love-with-your-best-friend story, from albert dasilva’s perspective.

words: 2.531 ships: ralbert (uh. that’s gonna be a constant here) tags: canon era; autistic albert; pining; childhood friends to lovers (... obviously); character study. warnings: none!

a cookie and a glass of milk

race wakes up from a nightmare.

words: 1.423 ships: ralbert tags: modern era; hurt/comfort; hard of hearing albert; pianist albert (!!); established relationship. warnings: mentions of a nightmare, doesn’t go into it at all, but race is pretty shaken about it at the beginning. it’s really soft tho

how does the sun even fit in the sky? (unfinished)

albert dasilva’s fifth year in hogwarts should go as planned: without any obstacles, without any bumps, without any resurfacing enemies. one can only dream.

words: 3.836 ships: ralbert, minor javey & spelmer & newsbians tags: hogwarts au; friends to enemies to lovers; hufflepuff!albert; hufflepuff!race; everyone is a hufflepuff pretty much. warnings: mentions of hospitals and wounds in the second chapter.

note: this fic is very, very unfinished! sorry about that. i kinda lost inspo.

rain keeps falling (down down down)

race and albert sell together.

words: 1.020 ships: ralbert tags: canon era; non-binary albert (this is also gonna be a constant because projecting is free and good); Yearning; hand holding (??). warnings: nope.

so lovely, goddamn pretty

"in fact, they say he’s quite the lover” kisses and unfortunate misunderstandings shortly after the children’s crusade.

words: 4.122 ships: ralbert, background spelmer, past sprace tags: canon era; canon compliant (??); friends with benefits kinda; lots of pining; songfic (crazy beautiful, by austin p. mckenzie). warnings: nothing just spot being really done with the gays (as is custom).

how many soap bars does mary need?

math is hard. being a fourth grader is hard.

words: 1.352 ships: ralbert tags: modern era; kid fic (as in. they’re 4th graders. not parents); adhd race; autistic albert; non-binary albert. warnings: none!

don’t throw away your shot

for race’s seventeenth birthday, albert outdoes themself. race isn’t necessarily pleased.

words: 2.171 ships: ralbert tags: modern era; best friends to lovers (woooah); laser tag !!; first kiss; autistic albert; non-binary albert. warnings: very, very small description of guns (but it’s for laser tag purposes).

twenty amazing facts you didn’t know about cacti

race has a great idea, and who is he if he doesn't drag albert down with it.

words: 2.429 ships: ralbert tags: modern era; high school au; filmmaker!race (YEAHH); autistic albert; non-binary albert; adhd race; first kiss. warnings: none!

note: i hold this one very close to my heart. i just love it.

proof that jack kelly has a heart (unfinished)

looking back on jack’s interactions with the newsies, from the most recent to the very first.

words: 5.166 ships (minor): javey, ralbert, spelmer, blush, newsbians. tags: canon era; character study; ocs! lots of them!; hurt/comfort; everyone just needs a hug; and jack is a really good hugger; bisexual jack; non-binary albert; non-binary specs; autistic albert; autistic finch. warnings: not in the chapters i’ve put out! i’ll specify before each one, though, just to be safe.

note: this fic isn’t abandoned! i’m just working on it so i can get more than one chapter out at a time.

antonio higgins and the wonders of the passage of time

race always learns new things on albert’s birthday.

words: 4.111 ships: ralbert, implied future blush & smallsniper & spromeo tags: modern era; high school au; character study; larkin family !!; non-binary albert; non binary specs; girl jojo; girl crutchie; girl blink; pining. warnings: none!

how wonderful life is now you’re in the world

albert proposes to race when they’re fifteen.

words: 1.573 ships: ralbert tags: modern era; high school au; proposal (?? i mean technically yes); slice of life; established relationship. warnings: short description of soccer-related wounds

no sky to look up to, now

“Um, J—Jack?”

No. His heart stopped. His mind went blank. Not him. God, anyone but him.

words: 1.336 ships (mentioned): javey, ralbert tags: infinity war au; spidey!race; iron man!jack; major character death; angst (that’s pretty much it). warnings: major character death

to be loved, and to be in love

race let albert go one time. he’s the kind of guy to never make the same mistake twice.

words: 5.376 ships: ralbert, past redfinch, minor finch/crutchie & javey tags: modern era; coming of age; non-binary albert; autistic albert; adhd race; childhood best friends to lovers. warnings: mentions of child abuse and neglect, as well as (unrelated) hospitals and car accidents. neither of these subjects are really explored or explicit, and it’s a really soft fic, overall.

me when i specialinterest two relatively minor newsies and their dynamic and write fourteen fics featuring their shenaningans and i’m emotionally attached to them:

#masterlist #again!#ralbert #javey #blush #newsbians #spelmer #spromeo #finch/crutchie #redfinch #sprace #racetrack higgins #albert dasilva #my fics #i just think they're neat

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skyblue-ringpops · 4 years

Text

Angsty Morris Headcanons

Trigger warning! Okay so these are literally all angst. So I’m gonna put multiple warnings (all bolded) at the beginning of each paragraph and just group every headcanon that applies to it together in that paragraph instead of listing them out like I normally do. If something triggers you or you think it possibly could please skip over that section because some of these will be triggering.

I...have a lot of stuff. Sorry Morris.

Tag list (obviously you guys don’t have to read this): @panpervinca @wishingforserendipity @a-smile-dat-spreads-like-buttah @papesthebird @luv-ya-hun @just-call-me-nemesis

Part one is abuse. This comes from Wiesel and Oscar mostly, but sometimes Snyder as well, when he gets the chance. The causes of it are: him not following their instructions (usually hurting someone), him being wrongfully blamed for something even if they know it wasn’t his fault, or just them taking anger out on him. Mostly physical or mental.

This doesn’t need a whole section. I have a headcanon that he works as a prostitute in canon era. Partially because of some lines and also that part where he’s like....lurking in the shadows without his vest and his collar up.

Next up is self harm. So in canon era, he will often to stuff he sees being done to the newsies and other kids to himself. Like hitting himself with brass knuckles or something. When he helps out in the refuge, he’ll go into whatever room they store the weapons in and just try them all out on himself. He isn’t any better than them, he believes he should feel their pain. In a modern au he still hits himself when he’s frustrated and, although he doesn’t do it to hurt himself (even though he does sometimes), he chews his fingers and knuckles when he’s stressed.

Next is eating disorders. So basically he just does not eat unless he has to. So in a modern era he’d be diagnosed with anorexia but in canon era it’d just be undiagnosed. Some causes for it differ in canon and modern era. In both, it’s partially due to him wanting to be weaker, just so he won’t hurt anyone anymore (he’s hoping Wiesel and Oscar will stop trying to force him to if he’s weak, and even if they don’t, he won’t have the strength to do much damage). In canon era it’s also because he believes he shouldn’t be able to eat if the newsies can’t. In modern era it’s sort of a punishment (ex: for each person he hurts he has to go a day without eating anything).

Last one is suicidal thoughts. He just thought all he wanted was to run away from home until he was venting to Jack one day. He was basically saying that he wants to get away from Oscar and Wiesel and that he didn’t want to hurt anyone. That alone would just mean running away. But then he started saying stuff like wanting to run far far away where nobody would find him again, and saying that he wishes he could take his entire life back because even if everyone he ever hurt ended up forgiving him, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself and he didn’t want to have to live with the regrets. And I’m not gonna tell you guys if anything else happens because that depends on each AU soooo I guess just make up the ending you want for this one.

I think that’s all I have. But I might make another part because I have so much Morris angst.

#newsies #newsies headcanons #morris delancey #morris delancey headcanons #angst #tw

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bread--quest · 4 years

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hey!! pls read this before continuing to the rest of the blog

you should Absolutely Not Be Following Me And In Fact I Would Like To Block You if you are or support N*zis, m*ps, inc*st shippers, ant*-ant*s, t*rfs, aceph*bes, transm*ds, the *lt-right, the presidn’t, or if you are still trying to defend cops to people grieving in the wake of the latest murders.

fandoms/interests: -welcome to night vale -homestuck -steven universe -newsies -les mis -gravity falls

i have a couple unpopular opinions in regards to said interests/fandom; i like rose quartz, lapis lazuli, feferi peixes, and jane crocker, i ship roxyjanecallie, i do not like equ1us, g*mzee, or er1dan, they both make me very uncomfortable, i hate the condesce, i believe moiralligence is not just “best friends” and kismesistude is not inherently abusive, i hate su criticals (grow the fuck up and stop ruining other people’s happiness for your own sick pleasure), and i have never read the epilogues and I don’t like them, please don’t mention them or hs2 to me.

if you’re still with me after all of that, yay!!! please continue to the rest of my blog!! you can ask me to tag anything <3

#bold text

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ettawritesnstudies · 5 years

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New WIP Announcement!!

This is something I’ve been working on for a few months but haven’t really felt ready to share until now, especially because I’m not sure how many people are going to actually like it since it’s totally different from Storge but here it is!

Lost and Found (Again): A Newsies Fanfiction

Summary: Clara and Andrew are a seemingly inseparable duo, but when life throws all manner of challenges at the duo, only time will tell if their friendship will fail, or change into something new.

Tropes/Characters included: Childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, healthy family relationships, some angst, some humor, some fluff, Crutchie (Andrew), and an OC, Clara.

Rating: K+/PG. Warnings for sickness and much much later abuse/neglect within the refuge but it’ll be handled sensitively and if you’re familiar with the musical already it won’t be anything too much more than what we see in the show.

Update schedule: 1x a week on Sundays, at least for the next 2 months

Excerpt: This last line tag that features a scene from chapter 7!

Where to find it! This link on fanfiction.net! yeah yeah I know Wattpad and ao3 are more popular but they’re also huge and scary and I don’t know anybody there

If you like my work and general writing style, or you like Newsies and want to read a new fanfic that isn’t gratuitous whump kill the darlings stuff like most of the stuff seems to be, then check it out! I hope you like it if you do! The first chapter is up now, so please let me know what you think! It starts kind of slow to build up the friendship, but it picks up pretty quickly, and I’ve had a lot of fun writing it! I’m pretty proud of how it’s going so far, especially since I’ve never done something like this before, so I’m curious to know what you guys like/don’t like.

Thank you for stopping to read this! If you think it looks interesting, please don’t hesitate to share. :)

#newsies #newsies fanfic #wip announcement #writeblr #writeblr community #childhood friends to lovers #romance #slow burn #crutchie #crutchie newsies #oc

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ok-but-what-about-connor · 5 years

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Wake Up

Words: 1647

Pairing: Platonic Ralbert, if that counts

Warnings: Gets pretty angsty at one point, mentions of past abuse

((This all takes place sometime before the strike/musical plot))

~~~ = time skip

In the Manhattan lodging house, it wasn't uncommon to see newsies sharing beds together. Many situations, at any given time of the year, would have newsies piling on top of each other and pushing for room beneath the blankets. They couldn't care less about what others thought of it, because at the end of the day, they were all just exhausted kids who needed to get some rest. Rest, plus just an extra bit of love. That was important too.

~~~~~~~

"Heads up!" Jojo, who had been innocently trying to get some shut-eye, had no time to prepare himself before Romeo was being tossed in the air by Race and Finch and landing on top of him. Jojo coughed out a groan into his pillow before rolling onto his back. Romeo, still having not moved off of Jojo, grinned widely. Jojo was lucky the little bugger was lightweight, otherwise he would have knocked all the air out of him. Both Race and Finch beamed with the same mischievous faces.

"Didja all collectively decide today was Use-Romeo-As-a-Projectile-To-Throw-At-Jojo Day?" He grumbled, but couldn't help laughing.

"Romeo only wanted to tell you 'bout his day, 's all." Finch replied. Jojo raised an eyebrow and flicked his gaze back to the short boy, who nodded excitedly.

"Oh alright, but get offa me first." He ordered.

Romeo must not have anticipated how tired he actually was, because he had barely finished explaining how he found a flock of chickens running rampant on the streets before he talked himself to sleep, snoring loudly beside Jojo. Jojo just laughed. It wasn't the first time.

~~~~~~~

"Jack, I'm gonna need you ta take a couple of the littles outta my hair." Albert whispered. A tiny newsboy was curled up in both of his arms. Despite them being asleep, they shivered from the cold.

"I already have my own to deal with, Al." Jack said as he gestured to the two littles snoozing next to him. Albert rolled his eyes, but his face remained serious.

"You'se actin' like there ain't more ova at mine. That cot's overflowin' with kids. They were clinging to the mattress just ta stay on, the seven of them."

Jack snorted quietly. " 'S cause you're warmer than the sun."

"Jack."

"Alright, alright. Hand 'em over." He shifted so his arms were above the blanket rather than under the heads of sleeping littles. Albert handed his two over carefully without waking either of them. A true talent.

"Thanks a bunch, Jackie." Albert murmured before returning to his respective cot. As Jack followed him with his eyes, he could see that Albert indeed had hardly any room to squeeze himself onto. Jack sighed and massaged at his hand that had recently fallen asleep from the kids laying on it for so long.

Most of the time, Jack slept through the night just fine when kids were with him, because he had become so used to it, but tonight he stirred from a tight feeling on his chest. He craned his neck to see that, instead of having four newsies with him, the number somehow accumulated to six. The two new ones, both girls, were piled on his chest and making it rather hard for him to breathe, but he pulled them closer and tugged on the blanket to make sure they didn't freeze. All in a night's work.

~~~~~~~

Race was just beginning to drift off when a noise pulled him from his almost-dream. It was a noise different from that of ruffling bed sheets or the average snoring, although Race couldn't put a finger on what it was. It came from the fire escape, trailing in through the opened window. He strained his ears, listening for another sound, trying to find out if it was a possible intruder, a boy leaving the lodging house when he shouldn't be, a stray cat that had clambered up onto the platform, or anything else he could possibly anticipate. That's when he heard it.

A shaky sob, barely audible, sounded out.

Race had not anticipated that.

Slowly, Race got out of bed and crept over to the window. He was concerned, but still wary of embarrassing the person. He wasn't about to let them sit out there by themself though. Outside, there was a boy curled up on the fire escape with his face buried in his arms. Race couldn't tell who it was for a moment, until one shift of the boy's posture revealed bright red hair visible in the moonlight. Oh.

"Albert," Race whispered, "God..."

The impact from Race's feet jarred the platform, but he didn't care. Upon closer inspection, it was obvious how much Albert was shaking. His whole body looked uncomfortably stiff as well, like he was in a permanent state of waiting to take a punch.

"Albert? What's wrong?" Race frowned nervously as he crouched down to be eye level with him. Albert didn't move.

"Come on Al. 'S me, Racetrack." Race waited for a reaction. Albert's shoulders had stopped shaking, but his restrained sobs could still be heard. Great, now he was just holding back feelings. That's not what Race nor Albert needed at all.

"You ain't Racer. Get away from me." Albert's voice was thick and tremulous. It was so out of character that it caused Race's stomach to grow heavy with fear.

"It's me, Albie. Look at me, please. It's only me." Race begged. His heart absolutely shattered when he saw two brown eyes peek out from where they were hidden; tears dripped off his face and his brows were scrunched up from panic. He watched as his friend's gaze darted around his face.

"Racer?" Albert's voice cracked in a whisper.

"Yeah, it's me Al. What's wrong?" Race asked. So many questions swirled in his head, but they could wait for now. Albert swallowed back a shaky breath.

"I was goin' ta sleep at my place tonight, but when I got home I saw my dad an' brothers fightin'." He sniffed. "I ran back here and- I just got upset or somethin'. I didn't even think of checking the window ta see if it was closed or not."

Race shook his head a bit, still not understanding. "So you planned on sitting out here alone with no one to talk to?"

"Yeah! And then you came out here and decided to-" Albert's hands gripped at his hair angrily and a range of emotions played out across his face, like he wasn't sure how to react. But then, his expression contorted back into one of fear and sadness like before. He was crying again.

"Hey hey hey... it's okay. I'm right here with you." Race said, trying to calm Albert down.

"But you wasn't! Not when I needed you!" Albert yelled. Race almost turned around to see if he'd woken anybody else with his voice, but decided against it.

"Whaddya mean I wasn't with you?" He questioned.

"The Refuge..." Albert croaked. Suddenly, everything that had happened in the past five months flashed in Race's mind at once.

All the way back in the wintertime- it must have been December, since May was just beginning- Race and Albert both got tossed into the Refuge. They may have been together when they were chased by the bulls, but they certainly weren't once they'd arrived. Snyder had them separated on the spot, and it stayed that way for nearly a month until they could both break back out. They had Mush deliver letters back-and-forth to each of their windows, so sometimes they heard from each other, but the letters only held friendly affirmations, little 'You'll be okay's and 'We'll bust out soon's. Once they left, Race never asked Albert about what happened to him during their stay, and Albert never asked Race, and they left it at that. Race hadn't ever thought Albert went through more than a disciplinary slap. Until now.

Albert carried on. "Right when I walked through the door, when I heard my father yellin' at my brothers, every memory from that prison was eatin' me up outta nowhere. How I got thrown around each night without ever doin' anything. And ya just abandoned me like that, and I thought I'd neva see that stupid face of yours again. Dammit Race!" He cried.

Race didn't hesitate a moment longer to pull Albert to his chest and hold him tightly.

"I'm here now. I wish I could have been with you the whole time we were apart. 'M sorry." He whispered, continuing to echo empty apologies into the night air again and again after that, as he and Albert sat curled up on the rickety fire escape together. The tears that he had been keeping at bay now fell and mixed with the already-wet patch on his shirt from Albert.

"You're safe now." Race said once Albert's breathing had steadied out. He felt the redhead nod weakly in reply. The stars were no longer visible. Dark clouds had blocked them out. A few raindrops landed on Race's hair and face, making him flinch.

"We should probably head inside. Weather's pickin' up." He pointed out.

"I ain't got no money for rent." Albert said, pulling away from the boy and running a hand through his own hair.

"It won't cost ya anything unless you're sleeping in your own cot, which you won't be." Race remarked with a coy smile. He pulled Albert up with him by the hands and quietly led him back into the lodging house.

Race didn't ask why Albert buried his face in the crook of his neck when they laid down, or how he grabbed at his shirt in order to pull him closer, or how he muttered a tiny "Thank you" before falling asleep. He didn't have to. He already understood well enough.

Tag list:

@nerdsies

@the-art-ofdying

@kadenistrying

@sadsackofcellophane

@spot-the-brooklyn-pirate

@daveysexual

@gaby-rodriguez13

@wayward-demigod-witch

#newsies #race higgins #albert dasilva #racetrack higgins #jojo newsies #jorgelino josephino de la guerra #romeo newsies #finch cortez #finch newsies #jack kelly #newsies fic #my writing

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