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the-firebird69 · 2 years

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We're going to take over Izzy there's too many people trying to mess with it I'm going to make mixed alcohol drinks with it because so many people like it it's going global right now it tastes like a wine cooler tons of women are adding white wine to the blackberry cherry and other flavors that are darker huge number of women adding vodka to the orange versions they have several they have mandarin and they have one of my husband has and an orange another orange one a blood orange it's wonderful and Men love it too that they have them mix it and they get drunk and silly and stupid and pass out mostly cuz I can't handle the hard liquor. It's going around the world and tons and tons of people are drinking it and people will try it and they pass it on after they saw our son drink it down and said boy that's good and he knows what's good it's really a tasty. You can barely taste the alcohol some people say you have to put 50% into taste it and they get really hammered off one drink so I'm going to make it mixed and we're going to sell it it's a wonderful product and it was sending it out tonight tons of people wonder how it's simply us making Izzy and we get rid of people as they come after us as a matter of fact we make Ferrari Lamborghini all those cars but in Italy then there are two manufacturers. Tons of people can't tell including the leadership because it's John real lord and is morons today they went around they discussed firing him and they're going to and tell people notice that we're taking over now but we're going to make those cars from now on and if someone wants to race they're going to have to ask us and we're also taking the racetracks over. We're taking over the construction of race cars all of them. And it is a delight with our son says is true usually that women want Max and other to fight us because they don't know what to do the men are two fierce even the retards like BG or John remillard. The standing right there in the show and laughing because oh no it's us too. It's a huge religion thing that this woman are doing they have control of the money they say so they're having them do stuff.

The dream disintegrates when my husband points out that the women are grabbed like their rabbits in very large numbers and they go quiet and say we're not doing very well and it's not them doing it.

And yeah we're going to be making the race cars all of them and either they're not made in the factory I'm not going to be allowed in and it's not hard to tell it's just like one of these dollar bills.

Each and every race car I'm done taking it over in a week we can beat you you won't get out of the way who want to raise you and show you that you suck and by the way the Olympians game and that's going on in Utah the second to none everybody wants to do stuff he's too small and it's not working out with weights or anything and he lose right away so it's not even going to be fun it's not in any shape to do anything. They send their champions up there and they get beat and they think if they got them in shape and send him up there then they'd say is our person and have a argument some of them are pretty big lots of them are about 8 ft and a sun can get bigger than that you get a lot bigger but really can you get 9 ft with ease and some people say 10 ft with ease and he doesn't know he always knows that he's dizzy all the time so it's going to be a good time.

But really we're firing you from tons of companies tomorrow John remillard and depowering you and your stupid smile and you're going to be out of business in a few days out of business completely in weeks but in a few days you're going to be out of all of the major companies you your higher ups the whole hierarchy that penetrated these companies and every single worker including all the office staff will be mostly extinct because of their reaction. About 552 of your friends rather than you no they all did every single one of them that you said was a friend and would never turn on you has turned States evidence they call it proof that it's you. They're calling it gorge and Purge and that's what you keep doing it's because you're sick in the head and they're going on shooting yours and killing them by shooting them in the head. Not Daddy pulled your brain out and cut it in half they thought it was over but now they know what it looks like tons of people do it's actually a little smaller and they can detect it Corky's is teeny but what seems to work better so I can Briggs Stratton.

You don't like the connotation but it might be true the old Briggs & Stratton and it's a legend just like Corky will be soon

He's doing your rendition in this hilarious. Clint Eastwood says that Ron remillard whatever his name is has no sense of humor at all and we agree

To huge deal that we took so many businesses and it was easy so it's trying to releasing more and there's tons of people that come in and they're gone in minutes and we have a way of doing it and a lot of people say it's Tommy f with the skillet but it's not

We're going to release this for all racing and all machines that race Motocross and Baja and trail racing which there isn't really that much of in our father and mothers say there should be a lot of it because they think they're real good at it. So I'm going to open a circuit of that with such assholes he'll do with bicycles and the stock car funny car and drag cars NASCAR of course Indy which we're doing and they have these boxcar race cars they're real fast like Corvettes they're almost as fast as India's now my son says are faster and it's true the ones we have are faster than the Indy cars at 800 miles per hour that you guys use they handle better too because how they're designed and how they're laid out it's mid-engine for real it is an intense machine my son had something to do with it and he likes the car want to make the Corvette more like it and people kept messing with it now it's just a small sports car so he wants to change it make two Corvettes we're going ahead and designing The boxcar version. It's going to be intense. Several other types of racing there's a street sports car there's super car racing and actually there's a new class called fly car where you're required to keep it on the ground and those things go way too fast including a light cycle facilities including Tommy f and we're going to take the whole circuit cuz they suck and their bombs and they don't even run the race they just let it go and no nobody showed up. And we're going to take over the super bike race and supermoto any type of race. And we're going into sports now I'm tired of hearing your idiotic analogies and you're saying you're going up which is good you like that that's a good thing

He said team thing but we can't do that

And there's a whole bunch of things happening tonight if the finale of Dumb and dumber yes well that's tomorrow because all these companies closing he says I wonder if we can get them in there from Cicero to some companies overseas and he's already doing that and maybe some corporate offices that are known to be open late it has something to do with automobiles anything I don't care if it's shriners cars. Yeah, moron in a minute if it keeps this s*** up but no it's something else we're talking about and we're going to go in there and do that and American cars American trucks fire engines and fire equipment and heavy duty equipment and construction trucks and equipment he wants it all he wants them all out of there every every single look at it anything with weaponry. And this burns on a movie that he does to get the plane so we're going to fire him tonight because they do that in the defense industry and we'll lay them off and I'll give him a severance package and some gifts. And sometimes he tries to give it to her son so give him some nice stuff like we have a few replicas and we know he likes a certain Porsche which is very expensive and we might give him a slew of them you know cuz they're opposing as people are supposed to be afraid and stuff and Mac does that too and the new Briggs & Stratton airplane and the big one and he uses it in a movie and it's the James Bond movie the Jaws lose the parachute out of here looking at something like wow that's amazing I said I wish we had some drinks and stuff that looks a little gay damn it like God damn it lady.

So is joking with jaws as he's going down he has a bud zero and the bud zero comes out of the can and he looks up at it then he looks down and makes the expression that Jaws does when he sees it coming so Jaws looks and says oh it's coming and he's trying to fly over there and his son saying with with more wings or try and configure your arms like a wing and your legs so he's doing that and it's working not the jacket try the jacket it worked a little better and he made it all the way to the Big ten I said now you're home and the big top 10 is in the shape of something that has to do with median

Thor Freya

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livesincerely · 4 years

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Okay, that bed sharing series sounds so good! I especially liked the one where Race and Crutchie were upset, the one with Jack trying to fight for custody and they go over to Davey's house, the one where Jack realizes he loves Davey, the one with the things someone said while they thought the other was asleep, and every single other idea you have ever had for it. I cant wait to see it! Also do you have any headcanons for Jack nicknaming people? It seems like he does it a lot and its so cute! BYE

People are so excited for the bed sharing series! I honestly mentioned it half jokingly but y’all are READY and I love it! 💕💕

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So, as far as my version of Jack’s nicknames:

Davey gets Davey, Dave, and Sweetheart. I don’t really have a reason for Sweetheart, I just love it so, so much as a pet name for him. (It hasn’t come up yet, but Davey uses Love and Darling for Jack) Also, very rarely Jack uses David, but only if he’s being particularly forceful or insistent about something.

In the Domestic AU, I was originally using Race/Racer/Racetrack exclusively, but I after some more consideration I think these are all nicknames Tony uses as a kid and eventually grows out of, except when his brothers feel like embarrassing him.

As a kid, Tony is only for when he’s in front of Teachers/Doctors/other Officials who won’t recognize Racetrack as a nickname, but becomes the norm once he’s older and starts liking his given name. Tones is for close friends and family only, and Tony won’t let anyone else call him that. Anthony is for when things are serious, if Tony is in middling trouble, or if Charlie is being an annoying little brother. Anthony Ethan Higgins is for when Tony is in major trouble.

I’m getting ready to go through and edit things so that Crutchie is called Charlie. The domestic au version of Crutchie is a below-the-knee amputee, yes, but I’ve yet to think of a reason why anyone would call him Crutchie, because I can’t imagine domestic au Jack naming him that, and I can’t imagine Jack letting anyone else get away with it either. (Jack would knock someone’s teeth out if they dared) So I’m gonna go through and change it.

Anyway, Charlie is Charlie, sometimes Choo-Choo when Race feels like being an annoying older brother. He’s almost never Charles—Charlie doesn’t get into as much trouble as Tony and his full name doesn’t bother him the way it does Tony, so it’s not an effective deterrent. Charles Oliver Morris is for when he’s in trouble.

Jack also tends to call them both Baby when they need comfort or when he’s not thinking about it. Davey picks this up as well, and also uses Honey.

This got a little off topic 😅 But yes, this is the current set of nicknames.

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Edit: I’m fully on board the Latino Jack Kelly train, so here are some of the nicknames Jack uses in Spanish:

Charlie gets osito, which means ‘teddy bear’ (shoutout to you for recommending it!) and Race gets conejito, which means ‘bunny rabbit.’ I just love both of these so, so much and I think they fit the boys perfectly.

Jack has a bunch of different pet names for Davey, but the two most common ones are cielito, which means ‘my heaven/my slice of heaven/my little sky’ and luz de mi vida, which means ‘light of my life’. Because we all know Jack is a romantic.... ;)

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@deliciouspeachpirate

#*ask #the domestic au #*editor's note #thank you for the ask blessings on your house!!

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echoeternally · 4 years

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Mario Thread Opinions

I saw something making rounds on Twitter featuring Mario characters, so, I wanted to respond to that, but without flooding the timeline.

So, I’ll put them here instead! ...And I’ll try to keep thoughts short...

... ... ...

Original Tweeted Characters

Mario: He’s such a cheerful and happy protagonist! I don’t get why people ever have strong dislikes for him. He’s full of energy and normally kindness. Maybe they think that’s bland, but I’ve been following Mario’s journeys since I was very young, so he’ll always be a great protagonist for me.

Toadette: She’s so energetic and sweet! She’s come such a long way since her debut from Mario Kart: Double Dash, and currently, Toadette seems to be a regular mainstay for the franchise. You’re doing amazing, sweetie! Keep going!

Dry Bones: One of the cutest zombies and/or reanimated dead characters that I can think of. While a tricky enemy to handle, I still enjoy seeing them. Plus, they’re welcome additions to spin-off games like almost always!

Shy Guy: The beeeeest! Shy Guy is the cutest little enemy, and I love how they get included into various roles as either friend or foe. I think I’m always happy to see Shy Guy around in some way!

Pink Gold Peach: Peach deserves a cool power-up form! While I wish she had it outside of spin-off titles, I think it’s a cute concept regardless. (Though, I get the disappointment when she shows up.) People mention “rose gold” as a title instead, and I think I agree with that, but also, alliteration.

Peachette: (deep, heavy sigh) You could have been so fun conceptually...the potential for future uses that could be dramatic with bait-and-switches for Peach. But...marred by Internet memes...also, not a fan that Toadette gets replaced on-screen by Peach in the first place, so, yeah.

King Boo: This dude has so many change-ups in how he appears. I kind of love him as both a Mario enemy and a Luigi’s Mansion main boss. He makes a good adversary for Luigi, so, I hope he sticks around to spook the cast! Love his laugh too, lol.

Daisy: She deserves so much love and attention, and I don’t understand why the developers at Nintendo have kept her locked behind spin-off titles for so long. I feel like that could change going forward, so I’m hoping that she becomes even more awesome and help save the day in future adventures!

Peach: Arguably the most iconic damsel in modern media, though I wish we could let her evolve past that. Peach is strong in her own right, so let’s see her headline a franchise and save the day herself! She doesn’t get opportunity to do that enough. She can be more than just Mario’s plot device. Anyway, she’s great, and I wish she would get more respect from Nintendo. She could make the Disney princesses shudder if given the chance.

Yoshi: Quite possibly the cutest steed known to pop culture! He’s so sweet and precious, like, I feel as though no one can help but love Yoshi. Anytime he pops in and the moment immediately improves!

Luigi: As a younger sibling myself, I totally can relate to Luigi easily. He’s the best deuteragonist that Mario could ask for! His fans can sometimes be a little much, but I can understand the enthusiasm! Luigi’s a good boy. Nintendo should dunk on him less though; he’s proven well enough.

Hammer Bro: Bah, an enemy that always keeps me wary! Probably one of the biggest common enemies that is practically guaranteed to be at least a light challenge. As they appear in more spin-off games, I like their energy and excitement more. They’re fun dudes!

The Koopalings: No clue how they were kept dormant for so many years, because they provide so much flavor to the series! Then again, it’s painful to see any of them separated from one another, and including seven characters can be a challenge. Overall, I love them, and they make great opponents and even additions to rosters! Best generals, I think.

Kamek: I know that the name isn’t supposed to be significant, but he ended up being so. And I really wish we would get a version of Kamek that stands out from the other Magikoopa! His role seems too important to be neglected as often as it can be. Definitely the coolest standalone enemy on Bowser’s minion roster, and I hope they keep helping this one stand out more in the future!

Waluigi: He’s pretty funny, and he can sucker a few laughs out of me time and again. I think that he’s underrated by the Mario franchise itself, and that he should appear more often or join Wario for his franchise. His loudest fans are definitely a bit too rambunctious. Still, he’s been around for 20 years, and I do agree that he probably deserves better.

Rosalina: Definitely a cool character that I really hope we keep in rotation. She should be used for more than just spin-off shenanigans without question, so I hope that we see her more as time goes on. (She almost joined Odyssey in a cool appearance!) Anyway, I love her motherly and calm yet elegant nature, and the lore that she gave to Super Mario Galaxy as well. Luma princess!

Bowser: As Mario is one of my favorite protagonists, Bowser would be one of my favorite antagonists! Though, I do wish he’d get a break. He’s a fun character without always being evil. We should give other villains a chance to go crazy and let Bowser do something else, either helping Mario or just living life without being the big bad. He’s sometimes more interesting being just a dad above all else!

Piranha Plant: Plant gang rise up! Not going to lie, one of the most iconic Mario enemies to appear, and yet, I feel like they’ve been slept on until their recent inclusions in games as playable characters, most especially in Super Smash Bros. Ultimate. Great surprise trap enemies too. Overall, love these chompy dudes! ...Except when they chomp me, that is, ha!

Metal Mario: Probably one of Mario’s coolest power-up forms! He’s appeared in several spin-offs as a playable character, starting with Mario Golf for the N64, if I’m not mistaken. While I prefer him as a power-up, he’s a fun concept to see turn up every so often.

Whomp King: An iconic opponent in Super Mario 64, and one that I’m surprised to see turn up every so often! Yet, I’m also surprised that we don’t see him more often as well. It’s odd, but then again, Whomps can be underutilized. I like him though!

Wario: Greedy guy supreme! Wario is perhaps the grossest Mario character, but also one of the funniest. He’s usually a welcome addition to the rosters that he joins, so, I like to see him around too. His laugh is hilarious and definitely one of the more recognizable out there!

Dry Bowser: Bowser’s reanimated corpse! Originally a cool concept and perhaps even a surprising one! Since I like Dry Bones, I tend to like this dude, even when he’s not exactly Bowser himself sometimes, since that happens. Either way, cool and creepy, so totally a unique flavor!

Pom Pom: Honestly, not an addition that I ever expected, but totally welcomed alongside Boom Boom’s return to the franchise. I love her shuriken attacks and ninja theme, because I’m a sucker for that. And more female creature features are always welcome to roster! Not every lady needs to be a princess, after all.

King Bob-omb: I love him! He’s arguably my favorite boss from Super Mario 64, and I’m so happy that he’s been popping up more frequently. He’s finally playable for the first time in Mario Kart: Tour, so I hope he appears as such in future titles! His mustache deserves greatness!

Toad: I have literally always had a huge soft-spot for the Mushroom Kingdom citizens. Also, I feel like Toad should be recognized as an individual as much as Yoshi is! He’s cheerful, helpful, sweet, and usually so helpful! Plus, I totally crush it when I use him in Mario Kart, lol. One of my favorites as well, and I consider him as part of the core cast!

Bob-omb: Who knew living explosives could be so...cute? I can’t deny that I delight in seeing them, even though they usually terrorize me whenever they’re around. Totally love to see them included, as they’re great inclusions.

Boo: Spooky time! I love seeing Boo, they’re fun. Also, horrifying to face off against, since they’re not usually the easiest to defeat. They’re cute though, and I love to listen to their cackles and trills! Also wonderful inclusions, both in the main Super Mario games and hilariously so in Luigi’s Mansion. (I love their titles and names in those games!)

Bowser Jr.: While his existence should raise questions, mostly concerning how, I tend to hand wave that as easily as Nintendo does. I love that Bowser has a bratty kid, it’s so entertaining to me! And it’s precious, because I really enjoy seeing Bowser having a soft spot for his son. Junior himself is enjoyable to see too, because he’s a pint-sized enemy with lots of personality!

Pauline: That’s my girl! That’s my girl right there, whoo! I’m so deliriously happy that she’s returned in the greatest form, from nameless damsel to major city mayor! And now she’s regularly included for Mario franchise casts by the fans and the developers. She deserves it, and I hope we continue to see Pauline appear all the time in the future! Get it, One-Up Girl!

Baby Daisy: A cute baby bean, and a logical companion for Baby Peach! Not usually a character that I favor, but I don’t mind her. The scariest kiddo on the racetrack, that I’ve learned.

Petey Piranha: It makes sense that the Piranha Plants have a boss leader, since Bowser is that for the Koopas, and then we have such for Bob-ombs, Whomps, Boos, and the others. Anyway, the sludge stuff is gross, but I do love to see Petey! He’s actually sort of cute with his little utters of “yay!” in spin-offs. Plus, he’s usually a fun flavor of boss to battle!

Lakitu: Honestly, I forget that these dudes are supposed to be bad guys; they’re usually so friendly and helpful! And I think I prefer them that way overall. But, they do make challenging opponents when they’re not helpers, so that is fun to see from time to time. Totally a great mainstay to the roster either way!

Baby Rosalina: Like, I do get the idea of her, but at the same time, she’s more or less a walking contradiction, more than Bowser Jr. or the other babies by far. She is cute though, and I guess we’re not meant to think about it.

Koopa Troopa: Basically Bowser’s equivalent to Toad, and I don’t think that’s a comparison that’s addressed often enough. Like, they’d be great to make Bowser’s forces more sympathetic. Anyway, I like them as enemies, though I tend to see them as helpers fairly often too, since that’s how they’ve appeared over the years. Totally a great mainstay!

Boomerang Bro: As if their hammer throwing cousins weren’t bad enough, we get these dudes to battle from time to time. They’re tricky but cool variations on classic opponents. And I think I enjoy seeing them when we have big cast herds for the spin-off Mario titles.

Bullet Bill: Fear. These guys just come flying out of cannons and my instinct just shifts into fight-or-flight. I love them appearing, but I’m always wary of the challenges they normally present. Also, similar to Bob-omb with the whole, “who knew living artillery could be cute?” Because I know it’s Mario, but geez.

Baby Luigi: The baby bro! He’s a fun alternate option for Baby Mario to rescue, and cute to see included from time to time in spin-off titles. Though, I think his best appearance was Mario & Luigi: Partners in Time.

Banzai Bill: The developers went, “Hey, know what’s scary than a big bullet chasing you down? How about a MEGA DEATH BULLET that destroys everything in its wake? Let’s even give it a creepy slasher-grinning face!” And nobody really questioned that. Utterly horrifying to battle (or just run from), but cool conceptually, so I like the enemy inclusion.

Buzzy Beetle: They’re such lowkey baddies that I actually love. Like, there’s even a sinister hint to them with the glowing red eyes and everything! Totally underrated as opponents, and I enjoy their appearances whenever they’re around.

Baby Mario: The leader of the bunch, and you know him...wait a minute. Anyway, he’s a fun character concept, and I like the idea of exploring characters at different points of their lives! It’s cute to see Mario was thrown into heroics since basically birth, and Baby Mario’s usually entertaining to see around, even though we should really question the lacking moral/ethic decisions of letting babies drive go-karts and playing sports.

Goomba: The number one low-level grunt of all-time! At least, I think so. They’re such fun enemies to see included almost all of the time. It’s fun how they’re normally super easy to fight, but can be surprising challenges in various appearances too. Simple conceptually, yet really diverse in use! Overall, one of the best baddies out there!

Thwomp: Floating death trap extraordinaire! These dudes are utterly terrifying to be anywhere near, most especially under. I tend to remember them for the blocky blue forms used during the N64 era, but I think that’s the less iconic form. Still, they’re great trap enemies for sure, with a great slamming grunt to boot!

Captain Toad: While I’m not entirely sure if he’s meant to be separate from the Toad we know, I treat him that way. Plus, it’s fun to have a light-hearted version of Wario’s treasure hunter role used, and one that actually provides aid to Mario on his adventures! Plus, a hero in his own right. A great character indeed!

Wiggler: Instead of chanting “don’t be suspicious,” it’s “don’t wake the wormy” for me. This crazy caterpillar is full of anxiety inducing moments for sure, but on the cuter side too. Also, shout-out to the Flutter form! Anyway, they make a fun enemy, and it’s fun when they go from passive to aggressive!

Cheep Chomp: I really can’t deny that I’m surprised that this was included for an opinion list. Anyway, bigger and scarier fish enemies are always a good fright to include, so, why not? I like the purple version too.

Baby Peach: The original baby princess, which is weird to mention, given that I never expected more than one to appear or matter. Anyway, she’s a cute companion for Baby Mario and has her own baby princess posse, so...yeah.

Boom Boom: These dudes were always such cool enemies in Super Mario Bros. 3, so I’m really glad they came back into newer games! I love seeing them appear more in spin-offs lately too, they’re entertaining options to shuffle in with the cast now and again. Fun to face off against too; normally easy, but can be tougher too!

Cheep Cheep: Fishy! It’s weird how they can be so cute, and yet they’re so dangerous, since one bite cuts you down to size. But yeah, I like them as basic aquatic enemies!

Blooper: These troublesome dudes...they can chase you, tentacle smack you, and ink you in the face! That last one never used to be a problem in kart racing, but they totally improved over the years. Good enemy. But, also? A really, really cute spin-off character! I kind of love seeing them appear in other titles as playable characters. Especially in Mario Tennis Aces. Their voices are so cute!

Whomp: Really weird to see them included so far from their king. But anyway! Cool enemies, totally underrated compared to their Thwomp cousins, and I like to see them turn up now and again. They make fun guards, most commonly utilized in the Mario Party series. They’re fun enemies and deserve more love!

Additional Characters That I Like Too

Birdo: The disrespect at people never including my girl...shameful! Anyway, I love Birdo a lot. She’s pretty cute and should totally be included way more often than she is. And she pairs so nicely with Yoshi, that’s so perfect! Plus, she’s probably the earliest trans character that I was ever introduced to, and/or consciously aware of. Anyway, I love her, so there.

Toadsworth: Why does he get so neglected over the years? I thought he was a great inclusion for Peach’s staff, and yet, he’s diminishing so frequently over the years for some reason. Anyway, he was a very entertaining character, made a great equivalent to Kamek, and I wish he’d be used more frequently.

Donkey Kong: Not going to lie, I tend to not include him in Mario cast calls a lot too, since he just feels comparatively detached to other characters. That’s so weird for someone that basically helped kick off Nintendo’s main franchise. Anyway, I love him a lot, even if I don’t show it much. He’s a cool kong, and doesn’t need to be the king to prove it!

Chain Chomp: The bark and chain rattle of sheer terror. I love these guys though! They’re so cute! And dangerous. But cute! Whether being used as a baby’s weapon of mass destruction in racing, or as another avid tennis player, Chain Chomps are just delightful to have around.

Wart: Yeah, not really expected to be included. But, I like Wart from Super Mario Bros. 2, and he’s basically my new character to campaign for since Pauline made it back from the yester-years already. Wart has great potential to be an alternative to Bowser, or even just a fun character to include, so, I hope that we see him come back to the Mario franchise in the future some day!

Nabbit: This pesky thief actually stands out well enough to me, probably because he’s included as a playable pick in the New Super Mario Bros. games from time to time. Anyway, an oddball of sorts, but pretty cute to see pop up from time to time! Maybe he’ll be kept in rotation for future spin-offs...we’ll see!

Monty Mole: Perhaps a more forgettable enemy, but I think they’re entertaining and rather unique ground enemies! Also, I enjoy their Rocky Wrench cousins. But yeah, I felt these dudes deserved a special mention too!

Diddy Kong: Although I typically don’t consider Diddy a Mario character, he’s appeared so often enough that he should be. I like him as Donkey Kong’s go-to partner, and he’s fairly cute too!

Tatanga: Look, if Wart doesn’t work out, then I’m rallying behind Super Mario Land’s Tatanga. Plus, if we get more Daisy, we might as well get an enemy to go along with, or rather against, her. Who better than this little dude? ...Though, I kind of like the bulky version from the comics more. Then again, it’s less expected for a tiny guy to be a main bad guy, so, he’d work either way. Another fun alternate for Bowser, so he can have a break, and Mario gets more enemies!

Fire Bro: I saw the Boomerang Bro and was kind of expecting this dude to show up too. Normally easier to handle than their weapon tossing cousins, at least for me, but they’re challenging enough too. Another fun variation inclusion for big roster herds.

Spike: You know, I recall the Paper Mario version known as Clubba best. But anyway, I like these dudes, and I’m enjoying seeing them appear more often in newer spin-off titles. They’re cute! And they provide strong diversity for Bowser’s usual forces.

Luma: How did we not see these little fellows in the main set? They’re so adorable, I love seeing them all the time now! Definitely one of the coolest races to come from the Mario games, totally fitting for the franchise, and I love seeing them appear basically whenever they do. They’re so cute!

Rex: The retro Super Mario World enemy that’s rather squishy and most commonly forgotten. I think they work nicely as an evil equivalent to Yoshi, at least in appearance. It’s honestly strange that they’re so underrated and underutilized by the franchise; they’re pretty cool!

Ninji: Little ninja-like minions from Super Mario Bros. 2 that appear sparingly across the Mario series. Another enemy that I feel is super underrated and totally has potential for inclusion in spin-off games or just as a more frequent opponent like Rexes should be.

Koopa Paratroopa: Kind of included with Koopa Troopa above, but I like to see Paratroopa distinguished, since they normally tend to be, even among flying enemies. Plus, they’re common inclusions to the Mario spin-off titles, so it’s weird to pass over them. Anyway, I like these winged menaces too!

Professor E. Gadd: Speaking of underused characters and E. Gadd should totally pop up there. I like that he’s a Luigi’s Mansion mainstay, but I miss the days where he was slowly branching out in other titles, perhaps most notably in the Mario & Luigi series, but he’s also the reason that Mario had FLUDD in Super Mario Sunshine! I wonder why he’s not included more frequently; even if not playable, he makes sense just being used in some capacity.

Spiny: Lakitu’s little monsters that rain terror from the skies and onto the ground! Perhaps one of tougher baddies to battle with, but I like to see them, since they’re pretty iconic. Even without being Lakitu’s minions, they’re still plenty tough for Mario to battle against. Plus, they’re kind of cute? We should see a blue variation some day though, so that way we all know who to hammer on for all of those Mario Kart horror stories...

Cappy: Since this is being posted on the 3rd anniversary for Super Mario Odyssey, I’ll give him an additional inclusion. After all, Cappy is probably one of Mario’s best companions for a 3-D Mario title to ever be included, easily surpassing FLUDD and Baby Luma / Co-Star Luma. I hope he’s not left to be forgotten as the years go by, because he had plenty of personality and flavor that really made the adventure even more entertaining, and a great concept to engage with the game play, so, here’s to Cappy!

... ... ...

Phew. Anyway, these are just some thoughts on Mario franchise characters! There sure are a lot of them, huh? Probably too many to count if we really dig through the series, that’s for sure!

That’s all from me though, at least for this. Thank you for reading!

#super mario bros #super mario #characters #opinions #twitter

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katehuntington · 4 years

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Title: Changes - part eight Word count: ±4800 words Summary “Changes”: Huntress Zoë Sullivan (OFC) crosses paths and swords with the Winchesters, when the brothers stumble on a case she’s already working. When complications arise, they are forced to work together. Summary part eight: Zoë meets with Terry Cliffer, or is it the shapeshifter? She tries to find out fast, but can’t prevent bullets from flying. Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and medical procedures. Demon possession, supernatural creatures/entities. Smut, swearing, alcohol use/addiction. Kidnapping, mentions of torture and murder, illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and flashbacks. Music: Boulevard Of Broken Dreams - Greenday. Author’s note: I couldn’t be more excited to share Supernatural: The Sullivan Series with you. There are quite a few people I want to thank: @coffee-obsessed-writer, @soupornatural & @mrswhozeewhatsis, who edited the early drafts, and my girls @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish & @winchest09 who are deciphering the recent version. Everyone who encouraged me to go for it, you are awesome!

Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist 01x01 “Changes” Masterlist

Zoë sips her cappuccino as she observes the foam floating on top of her hot drink. She’s at Beetle’s, sitting on a stool at the bar. Cigarette smoke fills the air, and even though she would love to light one, she ignores the smell. Instead the huntress stares at the bottles across from the counter, exhibited on the shelves, the back wall is a mirror to create the illusion that they have a lot more drinks in store. It’s a modern kind of place, the only history it shows are some pictures, pinned to the wall. The current number one hit Boulevard of Broken Dreams by Greenday plays in the background. She listens to the lyrics, the song appealing to her. I walk this empty street, on the boulevard of broken dreams Where the city sleeps and I'm the only one and I walk alone My shadow's the only one that walks beside me My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me 'Til then I walk alone

The long nights are taking their toll. Although strangers still see a stunning young woman, she herself notices the signs of fatigue in her reflection, despite her makeup, that is a little more prominent than usual. Zoë finds it thrilling to pretend to be someone she’s not. She traded her leather biker outfit for a white blouse, a black blazer, matching suit pants and pumps. Her straightened dark hair is combed back and tied together in a bun. It’s funny, leather or business, she still gives away the same message; don’t mess with me.

Her eyes capture the bottle of Johnny Walker Red again. She would kill for a glass, but having a shot wouldn’t be a smart thing to do. Focus is the issue here; no way she’s letting her guard down. The damn bastard shot her once and she doesn’t feel like peeling a bullet out of herself for the second time today. But one glass wouldn’t hurt, right? Zoë shakes her head, deciding against it. This appointment can go two ways: either the shapeshifter shows up and this bar and its customers are going to have the most ‘exciting’ evening of their lives, or Terry Cliffer shows up and this will be nothing more than a boring interrogation. Not to mention, this case will once again take longer than anticipated, because by now, the fucker could’ve easily shifted into someone else already.

She finishes her coffee and leaves the empty cup on the bar. Carefully, she glances over her shoulder. Zoë can’t put her finger on it, but she can feel a pair of eyes burning in her back; someone’s watching her. The shapeshifter maybe? She remembers Sam’s words and realizes that even if she meets Cliffer within fifteen minutes, the son of a bitch might actually be here right now. Suddenly, she hears something sweeping towards her over the wooden bartop. Startled, she turns to the bartender, who still has his hand folded around a glass of whiskey. “You’ve been eying that Johnny Walker bottle for twenty minutes and you look really tense. You need a drink, on the house.”

She looks him in the eye, trying to decide whether or not to trust him. She smiles politely and takes the glass, but doesn’t drink, just yet. “Thank you,” she says, observing him. “You’re the owner of this place? Rob Michaels?” “That’s me,” Rob answers while he polishes a glass. We’ll see about that, Zoë thinks to herself. The bartender could be the shapeshifter, for all she knows. She needs to figure out if he is, without giving him the impression that she’s suspecting him. “Then you probably know most of your regulars, right?” she questions. “Right…” Rob hesitates. “Am I being questioned?” “Whatever you wanna call it,” she flashes him her FBI identification.

He raises his eyebrows. He thought there was something more to her than just a businesswoman who’s getting a drink after work, but a fed? He had city police over, even state police at one point, this is a new one. He leans in for her to hear his whispered words. “Something shady going on in my bar?” he asks, looking around for anything suspicious. She puts her ID away in the inside pocket of her blazer, after which she folds her hands together, ignoring his question. “What do you know about Terry Cliffer?” Rob chuckles. “Are you kidding me? Terry wouldn’t hurt a fly.” “We’re not just around to catch the bad guys, Mr. Michaels. We actually intend to prevent crimes from happening, too” she states, pretending to be insulted. “Is he in trouble?” the bar owner wonders. “I think I’m the one who’s doing the questioning here, Rob. Can I call you Rob?” Zoë grabs a hold of the conversation again, not impressed. “S-sure,” he answers, intimidated. She glances at the clock, it’s 5:55. Then she continues. “Tell me what you know.”

Zoë’s eyes are penetrating, yet calm and the bartender soon begins his story, but he doesn’t start off with anything new. Shy guy, father of two, yada yada yada. Her thoughts wander off to the whiskey bottle on the shelf again, as she partly listens. Shit, she wants that heavenly brown liquor, and she wants it bad. Although there’s a full glass in front of her, she still refuses to drink it. Zoë hasn’t actually seen him rinse the glass, nor if he poured the whiskey straight from the bottle; it could be spiked. The huntress contemplates on dragging him over the counter and cutting him; if he screams out in terror, he’s not the shifter, if he doesn’t, he is. Yeah, maybe not such a great idea, Zo, she thinks to herself. And all this time she keeps staring at the Johnny Walker Red.

“He moved into town a few years back with his family. I believe he still owns some property about a mile or three out, though. Somewhere on 110th Ave,” Rob says with a lowered voice. Suddenly there’s the sound of glass breaking. The bartender turns around and is surprised to find the bottle of whiskey in pieces on the floor. “Ah, damn it! Must have left it too close to the edge,” he mutters as he kneels down to pick up the biggest pieces of shattered glass. Startled, Zoë stares over the bar, recapturing what just happened. Did she just… Ah shit, not this again. “That’s a shame,” she comments to break the silence. “Sure is,” he agrees, but then pulls his hand back with a little screech. “Ow!” He gets up and Zoë immediately detects the bleeding cut on his finger, which causes Rob to hiss in pain. A shapeshifter wouldn’t feel a thing when being cut by glass; so much for her theory. As if she was waiting for the lights to go green on a racetrack, she puts the glass to her mouth and lets the whiskey ooze down her throat. My God, she so needed a drink.

In the meantime Rob takes off to the kitchen, probably to bandage the cut. It’s when the door closes behind him, that his last words sink in. 110th Ave! Cliffer owned land there? She quickly gets her ducks in a row. She knows O’Brien, Middleton and Gibson, the missing people, have all been at 110th Avenue over the last month, but no one actually owned a place there. This might be a major lead! Why didn’t she learn about this sooner? She has to find the exact address and pay a visit as soon as she’s done here.

As the place gets more crowded during these after work hours, Terry Cliffer walks in. Zoë straightens her back and looks over the crowd. Insecure, the guy in his mid-forties searches the place, then he carefully approaches the bar. He’s not a tall man and he seems thin. It surprises Zoë that the shapeshifter chose his body to copy in the first place. He glances behind the bar, probably looking for Rob to ask if there has been anyone around looking for him. By this time, Zoë has hopped off the bar stool and walked up to the guy. Her gun, loaded with silver bullets, hangs from her belt and burns in her flesh through the fabric of her dress pants. If he attacks, runs, or does something else that she doesn’t like, she’s going to shoot him. “Terry Cliffer?” He turns around and looks her in the eye. Not a sign of recognition. The shapeshifter would recognize her, after all, she is the one hunting him. Nothing strange, nothing out of the ordinary happens, he just puts out his hand to greet her. “Are you the FBI agent?” he assumes, carefully. “That would be me, yeah,” she takes out her federal agent identification again. “Shall we take a seat?” They move to a table in the far corner and sit down. A good spot, one she picked out the moment she walked in. From here, she has a clear view over the entire place, yet it’s private. She signals Rob, who probably took care of his little problem and is back behind his bar. In a few seconds he halts next to their table.

“What can I get you?” he takes out a pen and a small notebook. “A beer, if that’s okay?” Terry glances at the woman across from the table. “Be my guest,” she approves and looks up at Rob. “Plain water please.” “Oh, and can I get something to eat? I didn’t actually get the chance to have dinner, yet.” The last sentence was more directed to Zoë than to the bar owner, excusing himself again in that self-conscious way. “The usual?” the owner of the place asks. Terry nods. “Anything else?” Rob glances from one to the other. “No, I think we’re fine,” Zoë answers. “Okay then, coming right up.”

Rob leaves the table and finally Zoë can start her conversation. She begins with an attempt to break the ice, since Terry seems to be pretty tense. It’s not every day that you have a one-on-one with an FBI agent. “Not planning to have supper with your family?” she assumes. “Not today, my wife took the kids to their grandparents for the week, down in Preston,” Terry tells her. Good, they are safe, Zoë notes. She folds her hands together leaning on her forearms on the edge of the table, ready to start the interrogation, but Terry beats her to it. “I don’t want to be rude, but I expected to meet a man today,” he admits with a nervous laugh. “Right, I heard you talked to my partner. He called in sick,” she makes up quickly. “It was really odd, he didn’t know your name,” Terry tells her. “For a moment, I thought I was being pranked or something.”

Uh-oh. Is he suspecting something? She has to come up with something good now to keep a good impression. “I actually got married a week ago,” she lets a smile play on her lips, turning her mother’s engagement ring on her finger, drawing attention to the piece of jewelry. “I changed surnames. What can I say, he doesn’t like change.” “Congratulations!” Terry smiles back, seemingly buying it. Pfew, that was a close call. Now it’s her turn to ask some questions, because all she has been doing during the last five minutes is covering the Winchester’s fuck ups. Just as she takes a breath to begin, Rob shows up next to the table with their drinks and a cutlery set for Terry. Zoë lets out an annoyed sigh and looks away.

“One beer and plain water.” He puts down the glasses from his dinner-tray, which he holds up with his left hand. As he sets down Terry’s beer, the meat knife slips from the plate and falls, the sharp edge pointing down. Zoë looks up just in time to see the knife penetrate the hand of the man she’s about to negotiate. She almost lets out a moan of disgust, but strangely enough, Terry doesn’t even notice it until he glances at his hand. “Terry, Jesus Christ! I’m so sorry, it - it just fell off!” Rob stammers, but neither of them hear him. It’s not a silver knife, it’s stainless steel, Zoë realizes instantly. Slowly the person - no - creature, on the other side of the table lifts his head until he looks directly at her. His facial expression is no longer insecure and friendly, but self-confident and sadistic. For a brief moment his eyes flash white, as the eyes of a cat reflect when it stares into a pair of headlights.

“You son of a--” There’s no time to finish her sentence. In a split second, the shapeshifter draws his gun and Zoë is just in time to flip the metal table over on the side. She goes for her Smith & Wesson as well, as the shapeshifter backs up, causing his chair to fall over. Several people turn around to see what’s going on as Rob turns pale and steps back. Just before he unleashes a bullet on her, she shouts a warning. “Everybody on the floor!” As screams are let out by people inside the bar, the shifter fires two bullets at her, but by using the steel table as a shield, she stays unharmed. “No way you’re gonna shoot me twice, fucker,” she snarls as she aims her gun over the edge of the table and pulls the trigger. Making sure not to injure any civilians, Zoë fires three shots in a row. She’s not sure if any of them hit the target, but he’s still running. “Fuck!” she curses as the third shot shatters the glass of the front door.

Quickly, she follows and intends to run outside. Good thing she takes cover behind the doorpost as she glances around the corner, because the huntress stares right into a barrel. Just in time, she retreats and the two bullets shoot by her. Stumbling back inside, she takes a short second to catch her breath with her back against the wall and her gun tightly gripped in both hands and pointing it down. Several frightened and panicked eyes look straight at the FBI impersonator. One face stands out, Rob stares at her as if he just saw a ghost. “I hope you’ve got insurance, Rob,” she comments, out of breath from all the excitement. He nods his head, dumbfounded, unable to get a proper ‘yes’ or ‘no’ out of his mouth. “Good, have a nice evening. Sorry ‘bout the mess.” She smiles uncomfortably and gives him an awkward wave.

After gathering her courage, the huntress exits the bar. With the gun pointing ahead and her index finger off the trigger, Zoë clears the area, but there’s no one there but a bunch of thrill seekers who probably heard the gunshots. Zoë lets out a sigh and lowers her nine mil; she’s back to square one. There’s no need to follow him, he could be anywhere and anyone by now. She moves back to the small alleyway next to the bar where she parked her Harley, still expecting an ambush behind every corner. When she walks up the street, she notices a shiny fluid on the sidewalk, which catches her attention. Curious she kneels down and touches it with the tip of her finger; it’s blood. A grin appears on her face; looks like she managed to hit him after all.

When she looks further she notices a blood trail leading to a manhole in the center of the alley. The shifter left the cover off, allowing the huntress to stare down into the black depth. “Hope my bullet hurts as much as yours did, fucking lizard!” she bellows down. Zoë gets up and makes her way to the Harley, thinking through her next move and forcing herself to focus, even though the adrenaline is still rushing through her body. Terry Cliffer’s property at 110th Avenue; that is her first priority. She would bet money on it: this has to be the location of the shapeshifter’s lair.

It’s quiet in the parking lot when Zoë pulls up to the motel, but she doesn't pay much attention to the silence, determined to close this case tonight. She rushes inside while taking her helmet off, doesn’t bother to pay attention to the man behind the counter and quickly opens the door to her room. Her Macbook is still buzzing softly and as soon as she presses a key, the screen activates. She selects a tracking website from her favorites and types in the information she has. After several seconds a complete address shows: 3841 110th Avenue NW. Quickly she kicks off her pumps, changes her dress pants for jeans and her blazer for the new leather Harley Davidson jacket. As she’s lacing up her biker boots, when three loud bangs on the door startle her. Cautious, the huntress takes her gun in her left hand, finger still off the trigger, and silently approaches the door. “Mrs. Johnson! I know you’re in there!” She recognizes that voice, it’s the owner of the motel. Quickly she puts away her weapon and opens the door. The old man is waiting with a phone still in his hand, he doesn’t seem amused. “I just received a call from one of my guests who was dining at Beetle’s Bar, said he saw you shooting up the place,” he recalls. “I can explain that,” she states, calmly. “I bet you can. You know what? I’ll bet your real name isn’t even Johnson. I want you out. I said I didn’t want any trouble,” he insists, pointing down the hallway. “Just give me a sec.” She goes for her ID in her inside pocket while her other hand makes a calming gesture, then she shows it to him. “My name isn’t Johnson, you’re right. It’s Evans, Sarah Evans. I’m a federal agent and I was working undercover,” she explains. “FBI? Yeah, right. I don’t give a damn. Now, get out of my motel,” the man decides. “Alright, let me get my stuff,” she sighs, putting back her identification.

Instead of pulling back her hand empty, she grabs a small flashlight, turns it on and points it in the old man’s eyes. Her suspicion is confirmed, because his eyes flash white. For a brief moment the shapeshifter is overwhelmed by the reveal, enough time for Zoë to drop the flashlight into her striking hand, breach the space between them and slam her fist right up his nose, giving him one hell of an uppercut. He goes down in the hallway and looks up at her, staggered. “Come on. Did you really think I was gonna be that easy?” she chuckles, flipping the torch up in the air and catching it skillfully.

She grabs him by the collar and drags him inside her room, shifting the fight between four walls instead of on the corridor, not wanting innocent bystanders to get caught in the crossfire. She drops him to the ground, glaring down on him with disgust as she takes her gun from behind her waistband. The shifter clears his throat, wiping crimson red from his lip. “Actually, I did. I almost shot you twice. Reckoned this would be a piece of cake,” he gloats with a grin, after which he struggles to get on his feet, holding his hands up. “You wanna shoot me in a fully booked motel? Try to explain that to the neighbors.” Zoë narrows her eyes at him, mentally kicking herself for leaving the gun suppressor in her storage locker the last time she was there. The bastard has a point; shooting what looks like the owner of Motel 6 through the heart, will definitely draw attention. She scoffs, pursing her lips, then she takes the magazine from her weapon and lays it on the bed. “We’ll finish this the old fashioned way, then,” she agrees confidently.

They face each other, challenging. Zoë adjusts to a back stance, putting her left foot behind her and bending her knees slightly. Her hands lift up in front of her face as she flexes her fingers, ready for anything that son of a bitch is going to throw at her. “I have to say, you got me fooled. Making me believe Terry Cliffer was going to be your next dress-up party, while he actually was your first. Smart,” she admits. “If you admire me so much, why waste me?” he tests, blood dripping from his nose. She smirks at that, entertained by his arrogance. “Don’t give yourself too much credit.”

He steps towards her, but she beats him to it. In a quick move she defends, blocking his attack with her forearm and swings her back leg up with force, kicking the shifter hard against his temple. He goes down, shaking his head to ward off the black spots that are inevitably swimming in front of his eyes. When he looks up, the huntress has taken her rear foot stance again. One fist with her palm up on her hip and ready to strike, the other is ready in front of her to defend. “Gotta say, you fight pretty good for a girl,” He gets to his feet again, wiping his brow. “Or should I call you the Karate Kid?” “Oh, I’m not a kid. I’m more like a ninja,” she smirks, staring him down. “Ninja or not, you’re no match for me.”

He charges her, faster than humanly possible. Despite his supernatural speed, she dodges his jab and releases another kick, against his ribs this time. The creature locks her leg before she can retreat, however, and steps in while Zoë has lost her balance. With a fierce strike, his fist hits her in the jaw, hard. He still has a hold of her leg and twists it, forcing her on the floor, pulling a groan of agony from her as the ligaments in her knee stretch further than possible. Not giving up that easily, she pushes her left foot from the ground, using the leverage of him still holding her right leg tight to swing the other to his head, hitting him on the side of his face with her instep. He releases her and she breaks her fall, rolls, and gets up again, all in one swift movement. The arm that had a strong grip on her only seconds ago, is now twisted to the shifter’s back. Roughly, she forces him to his knees; he can't go anywhere.

“What did you do to those people?” she demands, not asking very nicely. “Oh, don’t worry, I don’t actually kill them. It’s far more fun to watch them suffer,” he responds, sadistically. “You son of a—” She doesn’t have time to finish her sentence, because the shapeshifter throws his head back and hits her hard in the teeth. Sharp pain shoots through the roots into her skull and for a moment there she’s sure he broke off a tooth or two; so much for looking fabulous. In that split second, the chameleon manages to fight free, grabs her by her arm and violently throws her over his shoulder. Zoë lands on her back, the air slamming out of her lungs. She gasps sharply, unable to catch her breath. No time to recover from the pain, though, because she receives a kick in the gut a moment after.

Losing control over the fight fast, she tries to push away from her attacker to buy herself some valuable time, but her opponent takes the liberty to help her up, forcing her to stand by pulling her hair, before she suffers a blow in the chest with a strength that exceeds that of a human being. The huntress slams into the table, the edge bruising her lower back, feeling the tight grip of the shifter's hands on her throat when he roughly pushes her into the wooden surface. With a devilish grin on his thin lips, he chokes her, clearly enjoying the display: how his victim fights for air, trying to pull in desperate breaths as he crushes her throat under his fingers.

“You know what I do to them? I keep them somewhere safe, safe from the world, where no one can find them,” he tells her, his speech eerily slow, as if he’s reading a chapter of a horror novel. Zoë glances aside briefly. Although she can’t move her head, she notices the empty whiskey bottle she and Dean left last night, still laying on its side in the window sill. She reaches out, almost touching the glass, but the bottle remains out of reach by an inch or two. The shapeshifter laughs at her attempt and continues his story, as if he has all the time in the world to tell it. “Humans are such strange creatures, you know? If you keep them together in a tiny cage for a while, they tend to behave like spiders. They attack each other, eventually kill and actually eat their own kind out of pure desperation. How amusing is that?”

Zoë can’t hold back a gag, but forces herself to concentrate on the bottle. It vibrates almost unnoticeable, then the bottleneck turns towards her slightly. Focus, Zo! You can do this! She sends all her energy through her stretched out arm towards the nerve endings on her fingertips. It works, because the bottle flies into her hand. With an unexpected strike Zoë breaks the bottle on the shifter’s head, who stumbles back, finally letting go of her neck. Trying to suck oxygen down her painful windpipe, she coughs uncontrollably. Alright, that’s enough. A fair fight seems noble and all, but having a face off with a supernatural being, might not have been one of her smartest ideas. The huntress reaches for her gun and takes the magazine from the bed, swings around, aiming at… nothing? The room is empty. “Fuck, not again,” she curses, bummed that she can’t put twenty years of jujitzu training in good use because of the runner.

Before bolting out the door, the experienced huntress glances both ways down the hallway, her gun ready. Shit. No sign of the shifter. She lets out a frustrated sigh and moves in, rolling her tongue over her straight teeth in the meantime, checking if they got chipped after the nasty headbutt she received. When she clears the foyer, she is surprised to find the real motel owner, tied up to a chair in nothing more than a shirt and trunks, his mouth taped. “Are you alright?” she asks, as he ‘hmm’s’ loudly. In a quick movement she rips the tape from his mouth, unleashing a rant of curses and shouts. “Ouch! That son of a bitch! Where is he?! Where is that bastard who did this to me?! I’m gonna kill him! I swear, I’m gonna--”

Zoë stares at him for a moment, feeling a headache coming on, then grabs the roll of duct tape from the counter. While the manager keeps on raging, she rips off a piece of tape and presses it over his mouth. There is no way in the world she’s gonna release the pissed off elder; he needs some cooling down time. Casually she picks up the phone and for a moment considers dialling 911, but decides this isn’t really that much of an emergency and calls the local police. “Hello? Yeah, hi. I just found an old guy tied up to a chair in not much more than his undies… Motel 6, 2107 Highway 52 North... My name? Yeah, it’s Not Interested.” She hangs up and clears her throat, wiping her prints from the horn, then walks away, bored, with the roll of duct tape in her hand, leaving the furiously moaning motel owner behind the counter.

Back in her room, she gathers her things and stuffs them in two duffels, which fit into the two big leather saddlebags on her Harley perfectly. She makes quick work of getting rid of all the evidence, including the glass she shattered on the shifter’s head. With both bags on her shoulder, she takes a last look around and leaves the room, waving at the motel manager on her way out while hiding her face from the security camera. The cover of the manhole in the center of the parking lot is removed; her shifter went underground again. He's running back to his hideout, only he doesn't know that she knows exactly where that is. “3841 110th Avenue Northwest,” she mumbles to herself as she gets on her bike and puts the helmet on her head.

That’s where she’s going, that’s where this is going to end. The Harley engine roars loudly when she accelerates. Its back tire spins for a moment before the motorbike takes off as the evening sets in. This is going to be her last night in Rochester and his last night on the face of the earth. Zoë is determined: this hunt ends tonight.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page).

Read part nine here

The Sullivan Series tags: @a-gir1-has-n0-name @destielhoneybee @fookinghelljensensthighs @idksupernatural @laphirablack @magssteenkamp

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corpusdiem-seizethedead · 1 month

Text

[Spot and Race meeting for the first time]

Spot: And what can you do, my effeminate fellow?

Race: I can suck your dick?

Spot: *sound of shattering glass*

Spot: Ha.

Spot: No.

Race: Your loss- ✨

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1899-newsboy-strike · 5 years

Text

The Queen of New York- Crutchie Morris Imagine

Warnings: none other than it’s long

Summary: Y/N is Spot’s second in command, and one day as she’s giving Jack a message a certain newsie catches her eye.

Part two

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You were a well known newsie, as well known as Spot. People knew you to be someone who was tough, hard, and always said that you were the girl version of Spot. As soon as you got to Brooklyn you were almost immediately Spot’s second in command because he heard about your reputation in Queens, and you had broken up a fight between two newsies as if it were nothing as soon as you got to the Brooklyn lodging house. Spot knew that he could always count on you when it came to protecting all of the newsies in Brooklyn and trusted you to be in charge whenever he wasn’t there.

You were always the one in charge of giving messages to the rest of the boroughs in New York, and today you had one for Manhattan about letting some of your newsies either stay at the lodging house till a problem was solved. “Hey Racer, where’s Jack sellin’ today?” You asked as you saw Race selling and he smiled at you. “It's been a while since I saw ya Y/N... he ain’t sellin’ today he’s at da lodgin’ house.” Race explained and you nodded. “Thanks.” You called out as you made your way to the lodging house.

As you walked in Jack was cleaning making you laugh. “You the maid now Kelly?” You asked as you leaned against the wall making him jump and turn around. “Hey Y/N whatcha doin’ here?” He asked as he walked over to you. “Spot sent me on business.” You explained as you spit in your hand and shook his. “We’s been havin’ problems cause of da rain and there’s a leak, so Spot sent me ta ask-” You has continued but were cut off as you had gotten distracted from the person standing behind Jack.

You’d never stayed too long in Manhattan or even paid much attention to when some of them came to play games in Brooklyn, but you were sure you’d never seen this newsie before. He had his newsies cap on backwards, had blonde hair, he was probably the same height as Spot, and the smile on his face made you melt, but you’d be damned if you let anyone know that. Jack cleared his throat making you look back up at him. “Spot sent me ta ask if some a our newsies could stay till da leak was fixed.” You explained as you quickly recovered trying not to show any softness since it was Jack you were talking to.

“Yeah, we’s got room for a few, and some of ya can share if that’s alright with da one comin’.” He nodded and you smiled. “Thanks Kelly, I’ll put in a good word for ya.” You explained and as you were about to turn around and head out you were stopped by the newsie that caught your attention. “Hi I’m Crutchie, I’s don’t think we’s met before.” He introduced himself as he held out his hand making your heart flutter. You furrowed your eyes at his name until you realized he had a crutch that you hadn’t noticed when you had seen him before.

You felt your cheeks heat up as you grabbed his hand with your shaky one and shook it. “The names Y/N, it’s a pl-pleasure ta meet ya.” You stuttered out and mentally slapped yourself for stuttering in front of anybody. You hadn’t noticed Jack smirking as he saw you talking to Crutchie. “Da pleasure’s all mine.” He said and you could tell he wasn’t flirting like someone like Race would, which made you smile even more and you decided to leave before you made an even bigger fool of yourself. “I’ll be seein’ ya.” You told him before you walked out and made your way back to Brooklyn.

“Spot, I think I’m gonna be stayin’ with whoeva’s goin’ to ‘hattan.” You explained as you told him Jack had said yes. He raised his head to look at you and his eyebrows furrowed. “Ya sure?” He asked and you nodded not explaining why as you made your way to your bunk and got all your things for tomorrow. What you didn’t know was back in Manhattan Jack teasing Crutchie about being able to get you Y/N, Spot’s second in command to stutter and blush.

“Thanks for lettin’ us stay Jack, I’s gonna be stayin’ too ta make sure these guys behave.” You explained as you and four other newsies were in the Manhattan lodging house. “No problem, Spot would do it for us if we needed it.” Jack explained and looked around. “We only got two empty bunks, so one a you’s is gonna have ta share wit one of da otha boys.” Jack explained making you look at the other newsies with you. “I’ll share, don’t need them complainin’ ta me.” You joked as you gestured to the four boys behind you. “You’s can share with Crutchie.” Jack told you with a smirk on his face as your eyes widened and you tried to stop yourself from blushing. “Okay.” You nodded and Jack walked away after showing the other four where they’d be sleeping.

“Hey Crutchie!” You called after him as you had seen him walk into the lodging house in the opposite direction of you. He turned around and smiled as he saw you and you walked over to him. “Hey, you’s stayin’ with the other boys stayin’ here?” He asked and you smiled looking down at your feet. “Yeah, Jack said dat I’s gonna share with ya.” You told him and his face went just as red as yours. “Okay, I’s can sleep up in Jack’s bunk if it makes ya uncomfortable. He sleeps on da top, but I’s wouldn’t want ta make ya feel uncomfortable.” He explained and you shook your head.

“No it wouldn’t make me uncomfortable at all, but if ya don’t want me sharin’ with ya I’s can get one a da boys ta share.” You explained as you looked in the direction of the Brooklyn newsies’ bunks. You looked back at Crutchie and saw something flash in his eyes that you couldn’t quite read. “No, I’s not uncomfortable with it, ya can share with me.” He said a little too quickly making you blush. “Is Y/N blushin?” You heard next to you and your eyes went wide as you looked at the person who said it and realized it was one of the Brooklyn newsies, William.

“I ain’t blushin, I’s just cold is all.” You explained as you brought your hands up to your hot cheeks. “Hey Sling Shot I’s think Y/N is goin’ soft on us.” He joked making your blood boil. “Shut up ‘fore I make ya sleep in da rain.” You glared at William as he laughed. “Uh, Will I think Racetrack is callin’ you.” Sling Shot told him and you gave him a nod as William walked away. “So what Jack told me about ya was true.” You heard Crutchie say more to himself making you look at him. “What'd he tell ya?” You asked him as you both walked over to his bed and sat down.

“He told me you’s hard like Spot and dat no one can make ya blush or stutter, even though I’s made ya do that da otha day.” He explained and you bit the inside of your cheek. “I’s just got ta make sure da boys respect me ya know. It ain’t like Spot where he can get a goil and still be feared by all da newsies. If I was somebodies goil da boys would look at me differently, and they’s not gonna respect me da same as they would Spot cause I’s a goil. You’s saw da way William acted when he just saw me blushin’ it’d be worse if I was someone’s goil.” You explained and Crutchie smiled sadly at you.

“You’s rather be unhappy and respected den happy and woik a little harda ta make em treat ya da same?” Crutchie asked making you laugh slightly as you leaned against the pole holding up the top bunk and pulled your knees to your chest. “I’s already woik harda, I’s don’t wanna have ta woik even more just ta be happy with a guy. I’s neva even seen anyone dat I’s found attractive... well I have but before that I’s neva even looked at anyone that way.” You explained and Crutchie just sat and listened to you talk about all the reasons you’ve never looked at guys in a romantic kind of way and he admired you.

“You’s da Queen a New York.” Crutchie joked as you both continued talking and you laughed shoving him. “I’s don’t think I’s the Queen a anything.” You told him as you smiled and hadn’t realized you were both closer than you were before. The boys watched Crutchie in amazement as everyone thought about what they had heard about you, and saw how freely you spoke with Crutchie and how comfortable you had looked with him, as with someone else you would be more stiff and you wouldn’t have such a big smile on your face as you did now.

“I think everyone’s goin’ ta sleep.” Crutchie explained making you look around as you realized it was darker than you thought it would be, the time passing by quickly as you had talked to him. “So do ya want ta sleep opposite of each otha or... just sleep the same direction?” You asked him hoping he’d say the same way. “I’s don’t think we’d want each otha’s feet in da otha’s face.” He joked making you laugh and nod. “Yeah.” You agreed as you started to become nervous. You hadn’t slept with anyone else in the same bed other than the younger newsies who had nightmares in a long time, let alone someone you had found attractive like Crutchie.

As you both found a position that made the both of you comfortable, you had kicked each other multiple times and had almost burst out laughing as either one would almost fall off the bed. One of the bunks near yours had shushed the both of you and you were now facing away from each other as you both tried and sleep. You stayed in the position you were in trying not to move as you heard Crutchie sound asleep behind you and sighed as you could fall asleep. You held your breath as you felt Crutchie moving behind you and panicked thinking you woke him up, but he had only rolled over and his arm had somehow wrapped around you. Your body relaxed slightly as you felt comfortable with his arm around you, and you carefully turned around to face him and had scooted closer. You had finally fell asleep with Crutchie’s arms around you, your head on his chest, and your legs had tangled together while the both of you slept, not knowing what the morning would bring.

#newsies #newsies imagine #newsies imagines #newsies x reader #imagine #x reader #x reader imagine #crutchie #crutchie morris #crutchie newsies #crutchie morris newsies #crutchie imagine #crutchie morris imagine #crutchie x reader #crutchie morris x reader

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somedayonbroadway · 5 years

Note

In all aus, I picture Jack, Crurchie, Race and Romeo being brothers. If it's in the canon universe, I love the idea of Race finding Romeo and bringing him back to the others and no one protested. In a modern au, I see Race and Romeo being in the same foster home who refuse to separate. Medda went to the home once and ended bringing both home after seeing how they were freaking out when another couple wanted to split the pair by taking Romeo away from Race who refused to leave him ~Newsies Anon

I completely agree with this. I always at least see Jack, Race and Crutchie as brothers buy I do love adding Romeo to the mix.

So, in canon era:

Race found Romeo on the streets. He was just a little kid. I always see Romeo as the youngest of all the newsies when the strike is happening. At that point he’d be seven years old, just about. But Race would’ve found him two years before that.

Romeo would’ve come from a home with his mother. She was neglective and a drunk and possibly a prostitute. His name was actually Giovanni. Giovanni didn’t know for sure. All he remembered were strange men always coming home. Sometimes they were nice to him, in a kind of creepy way. And sometimes, he just got in their way. So they’d forced him to move.

Giovanni ran away after his mother smacked him for the first time for trying to wake her up while she was laying with one of the men in her bed.

He just wandered around the streets for a long time. And somehow, he ended up at the racetracks. That’s where he met a boy, about thirteen, who saw him and gave him a smile. Giovanni watched him sell a pape to a young woman who swooned over him for some reason. And the boy got a dime out of it.

He gave the dime to Giovanni and told him to get buy an apple or something. Buy Giovanni wouldn’t. He’d stay there all day and watch the boy sell. And then, when he was done, he’d follow the kid back to the lodging house, thinking he’d forgotten about him.

But the kid would turn around when they reached the front door and call the boy over to him and tell him it was alright when Giovanni got scared. He’d sit down on the steps of the house and he’d introduce himself as Race. Giovanni, who is still nervous and quiet, wouldn’t say much. So Race would call into the house for Jack who would come out immediately.

Jack would completely melt at the sight of Giovanni. He’d ask Race where he found the kid and Race would say “he followed me home. Can we keep him?” And Jack would just laugh.

Jack would’ve just become the new official leader of Manhattan. He would’ve invited Gio into the Lodge, but the kid would’ve shaken his head because he thinks he has to go home. But he doesn’t leave. So Jack goes back inside so grab a blanket and he’d wrap it around himself and Gio and Race, and they’d huddle together to keep him warm, but when the boy did eventually fall asleep, Jack would scoop him up and take him inside to his bunk.

Everyone would immediately fall in love with him.

Crutchie would be the one to wake up and find him on Jack’s bed and Jack and Race would be sharing one because they didn’t want to disturb the new kid. He’d be the one to wake Gio up in the morning and Gio would stick to Crutchie like glue because he was so nice to him.

The other boys would be so rowdy and loud and Jack and Race and Crutchie would be the only ones he felt comfortable around because they were calming to him for some reason.

Race would be the one to teach Giovanni to sell. Of course, Jack taught Race to sell. And they both flirt with their customers to sell their papers. But since Gio is so little, it literally works with every customer that he has. That’s how he gets the name Romeo. One of the girls says “aren’t you the cutest thing? You little Romeo...” and Race would make sure it stuck.

Romeo would stick to Jack and Race and Crutchie the most. When he woke up from a nightmare he’d always go to one of them and no one else.

And Crutchie would always make sure that Romeo got some bread from the nuns, because he was so small they might not see him sometimes.

Jack would always carry Romeo on his shoulders to the circulation gate and hold his hand to take him to any selling spot he wanted to go to. He’d either always go with Race or Crutchie or Jack.

Race would always sneak him goodies and things and he’d discover that Romeo’s favorite treat was chocolate.

When the bull smacks Romeo across the cheek during the riot, Race and Jack would be the first ones to run up to him and Race would put Romeo over his shoulder and get him out of there and tell him to go hide somewhere until Race went and found him. And he did.

Romeo would be terrified when he found out Crutchie had gone to the Refuge. He’d heard stories about the Refuge from Jack and Race, who were there together. Race would hold him and wait for Jack to come back. But Jack wouldn’t come back.

After Jack turns on them, Romeo is the one who says that Jack has to be trying to trick the bulls (like Les in the 1992 version). And Race would know that wasn’t true, but he’d let Romeo believe it.

And after the strike is over, that night Romeo and Race end up on the roof with Jack and Crutchie. And they all just lay down in silence and hold onto each other.

Love. Love. LOVE THIS. Newsies Anon, you rock!

(1/3)

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aria-writes · 5 years

Text

Good Morning Westchester

So here’s the first oneshot I ever wrote that I’ was actually proud of.

prompt used: my best friend dragged me to a party some of the senior football players are throwing and it’s really boring and the only interesting thing is the boy playing beer pong on the patio

Words: 1631

Sometimes I wonder why I'm here, as in life and death and existence and all that. Maybe there's meaning somewhere out there, or maybe there's not. Maybe the people out there doing yoga at mountainside resorts seeking enlightenment are just fooling themselves and others, wasting their time and money chasing something unattainable.

Sometimes I wonder why I'm here, as in THIS FLIPPING PARTY FULL OF HUMANS. HUMANS, I TELL YE.

"Hi, I'm Bill Hearst, and this is my colleague, Tyler Josef."

I pasted a well-practiced smile on my face and tuned the oh-so familiar voice out.

Presenting, the reason why. That's my best friend, we've known each other since diapers. Comes from money, but is actually pretty down-to-earth. Though the line starts to blur between eccentric and just plain nuts.

A goth chick looked me up and down. My pastel dress and matching earrings... and nails... and shoes... and purse... probably don't exactly scream 'Tyler'.

"Uh. Nice to meet you both."

I did my best to smile, but I really don't want to be here. I'd rather be reading. Maybe I can hide in the bathroom?

I banished the thought. Who knows what kind of germs are in there.

By the time I fully returned to the real world, the goth girl had left.

I poked Bill on the arm and frowned.

"Why do you always do this?"

"Because it's fun." Bill grinned at me. "I'm still waiting for the first person to question if that's your real name. Besides, gender blender names are all the rage with white suburban soccer moms now. Blake, Spencer, Ryan, Jackson, Connor, Alexander..."

I crossed my arms and waited for him to finish, but he kept going. "Why do you KNOW this?"

Bill shrugged. "Because I google random stuff instead of studying. Noah, Mason, Kyle, Levi, Maxwell, Evan, Oliver, Sebastian..."

I put my hand up to stop him. "Okay, well, Sebastian is a horrible name to give your child, no matter what gender they are."

Bill swung around me and leaned against the wall.

"First of all, Michael, that's offensive to Sebastians everywhere. Secondly, who doesn't want to share a name with a crab?" He cocked his head to the side. "Or was it a lobster?"

Some drunk girl came out of nowhere, running into the wall right next to me.

"Ariiiiana Graaande? Isss that yooouu?" She slurred, reaching out at me a little too enthusiastically for my liking.

I could hear Bill snickering on my other side.

I took a step back, eyes wide. "Very much no."

"Oh." She looked disappointed, then wandered off in a haze.

I shook my head and looked around at the few people milling about.

"This place is so dead. Aren't teen parties supposed to be all, all night rages and burning down houses?"

Bill adjusted his vest and gave me a funny look.

"Don't believe everything you hear. Maybe we should get you somewhere less flammable."

I sighed and leaned against the wall, rolling my shoulders back.

"Is it too much to ask—"

Bill shook his head slightly, cutting me off.

"I am an extrovert, Phineas Taylor, and this may be hard for you to understand, but if I don't get human interaction, I can and will die." He stared at me with complete seriousness.

I furrowed my brows. "...Uh huh."

Bill sighed and tugged at the cuff of his sleeve. "They have a patio? But you have to promise you won't throw yourself into the pool or something crazy like that."

I leaned forward and shook his hand with a little too much enthusiasm. "Deal. Besides, you're more likely to do that than I am."

We weaved around two people arguing about something that had to do with the budget of the student government. I don't understand how people get so invested in this stuff, but okay.

I closed my eyes and leaned out over the balcony as we stepped into the fresh air. "Ah, peace and qu—"

"THIS IS NOT LIKE WII POOL AT ALL!" A high-pitched, but still decidedly male voice yelled.

I raised my head and stared out over the balcony like I was looking into a camera on The Office.

Bill laughed at my disgruntled expression. "You're the only who was complaining about it being boring a few minutes ago!"

"Well, I didn't mean... this!" I whisper-shouted and gestured over to a table surrounded by loud teenage boys. Are there any other kind?

Bill elbowed me. "That would be beer pong, my young sheltered friend."

I rolled my eyes.

"Never mind, that's it. Sorry, but I'm jumping in the—" I was about to head down the stairs of the balcony when something caught my eye. Blonde curly hair, greenish eyes (as far as I can tell from here), and a dazzling smile.

Oh no, he's hot.

I was probably staring for ten minutes straight.

"If you're really bored, we can head out." Bill's voice startled me and jolted me out of my thoughts.

"I, uh, wuh?" I stuttered, pulling my eyes away and trying to appear unfazed. "I mean, nah, I can stay."

Bill saw right through that.

"Finally found something that piqued your interest, eh? Or someone?"

He followed my gaze over to where Blondie was receiving instructions from a slightly confused redhead. "Aha." He pushed off the balcony and started walking over to them.

I eyed him suspiciously. "Where are you going, Liam?"

"WOO! AND THAT'S HOW IT'S DONE, SON!" Blondie pumped his fists into his air and danced around in a small circle, whacking his hip against the table in the process. "Ow!"

Bill waved me off. "Don't you trust me?"

Red rolled his eyes. "I'm a year older than—"

Blondie grabbed his shoulders, grinning from ear to ear. "Shut up and eat in the moment."

I blinked a few times. "...no? Not really? Willy-Billy, you get back here or I'm going to call you even more embarrassing nicknames for the rest of your life—" I looked to my left and my right, then inched closer.

Red reached up and slowly pushed Blondie's hands off his arms. "It's 'drink in the moment', Race."

Blondie shrugged, seemingly undeterred. "I've heard it both ways."

Red pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "No you haven't."

Bill finally reached the table, grabbing Blondie and Red's attention. I'm too far away to hear what's being said over the general noise. What the heck does he think he's—

Blondie looked over at me and we made eye contact. I felt my face flush as he grinned at me.

Wait just a clock tick, is he moving towards me?

Wait, no, what do I do? What do I say? 'Hi, I want your babies'? Absolutely not. Not that. It's probably too late to run and pretend like I didn't see him, but I'm just standing here frozen. At least I know I won't pass out because you have to have a drop in your blood pressure to faint, and mine has definitely risen. That's not helpful, me! I don't need your useless paramedical facts!

Blondie shoved his hands in his pockets as he approached me.

"So, Halo, right?" Even his voice is drop dead gorgeous, if that makes any sense.

"Guh?" I blinked dumbly.

The only good thing about me currently being rooted to the spot is, I don't think I'm going to fall over at least?

"Your friend said that was your name, Halo, like the angel..." He gestured above his head with a small smile.

...Bill, I am going to murder you.

I scoffed in disbelief and shook my head.

"Yeah, not exactly. He never calls me by my real name, though. I should be glad it wasn't anything embarrassing like 'Princess'." I unconsciously picked at the skin at the edges of my fingernails.

Blondie smiled and leaned forward.

"Eh, I get that. I don't go by my real name, either. Everyone calls me Race. Pleasure to meet you."

You know what? He looks like a male version of Rapunzel. Be still, my heart.

I reminded myself to keep breathing. I tried to lean against the balcony and, I dunno, look cool I guess, but I missed and almost fell over.

I felt my heart leap into my throat as I frantically regained my balance.

"Bwuh— I mean, you too. I mean, me too. I mean, the pleasure is all mine and... Is that short for Eraser?"

Race glanced down and snorted, smirking. "That's a new one. No, it's Racetrack. Racetrack Higgins." He took my hand, lips brushing against my knuckles.

Wow. I'm an idiot. Also, I can feel my whole face going red. Error 404 gateway timeout—

"Oh. Sorry." I clenched and unclenched my free hand in an effort to release tension any way I could.

"You can call me anything you want, doll. Oh, speaking of which," He pressed a slip of paper into my palm and winked. "Call me sometime, hm?"

Have you ever seen someone so beautiful you just started crying? I know it sounds weird, but this one time—

I bit my lip and shifted my weight from one side to the other. "Yeah, um, I will."

"Cool." Blondie– I mean Race– did finger guns at me. "See you around." He headed back in Red's direction.

I smiled, awestruck, then turned and walked away in a bit of a daze. What just happened?

I walked right into Bill.

"Yo, Eminem. What can I say except you're welcome?" He did ridiculous jazz hands, which made me laugh despite everything else.

"Shut up, Billiam. But thanks, I guess." I glanced down at my hand, still smiling. Maybe this whole 'socializing with other human beings' thing wasn't completely awful and pointless after all.

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santafeisafantase · 5 years

Text

@thattheatrefreak here ya go dood and others. it’s still just a rough draft and not me bashing newsies bc i love it so much, but i was interesting in doing the research so here we go. enjoy!!

Newsies vs. The Newsboy Strike of 1899

Did you know that back in 1899, the newsboys, also known as newsies, of New York City went on strike? The strike caused massive disruption to the city’s key services. Critical news stopped and strikes and protests halted transportation. At one point even the entirety of the Brooklyn Bridge shut down. This was such an important event in our history that Walt Disney Studios created a movie in 1992, which would later become a Broadway musical in 2012, about the strike called, ‘Newsies’. Disney’s Newsies represented the Newsboy Strike of 1899 inaccurately as evidenced by the fictional characters and plotlines.

Based on the Newsboys Strike of 1899, Disney’s Newsies creates many fictional characters to tell their version of the story. In fact, the main character and “leader” of the Disney’s Newsies strike did not exist in real life but was created to support their interpretation of the story..

Jack Kelly, the alleged leader of the strike, was a charismatic character created to further their story.. His character is loosely based off the actual leader of the strike, Louis ‘Kid Blink’ Balett(i)*. Kid Blink (sometimes referred to as Blind Diamond) was the leader and chief organizer of the Newsboy’s Union Strike Committee. Kid Blink was said to be between the ages of 13-18 and Italian, while Jack was 17 and (most likely) Irish. At the time, Italians were frowned upon, and otherwise not well perceived by others, including but not limited to- the Irish. So, although the change from Italian to Irish appears insignificant on the surface, due to tensions between these groups during this time it seems curious

Both Blink and Jack Kelly accepted a bribe from a newspaper, going back to work. Jack took the bride in order to keep his boys from going to The Refuge (a jail for underaged kids), and while there’s no apparent reason for Blink accepting the bride, it was most likely just for the money. Another difference between Blink and Disney’s Jack Kelly is their mannerisms during the strike. When Kid Blink came across scabs (boys who went against the strike), he would soak them (beat them up) into joining the strike, Jack used his way words to talk the scabs into joining the strike.

His more memorable speech from the Broadway production is as follows, “Listen fellas…I know somebody put yis up to this. Probably paid ya some extra money too. Yeah? Well, it ain’t right. Pulitzer thinks we’re gutter rats with no respect for nothin’, includin’ each other. Is that who we are? Well, we stab each other in the back and, yeah, that’s who we are. But if we stand together, we change the whole game. And it ain’t just about us. All across this city there are boys and girls who ought to be playin’ or going to school. Instead they’re slavin’ to support themselves and their folks. Ain’t no crime to bein’ poor, and not a one of us complains if the work we do is hard. All we ask is a square deal. Fellas…for the sake of all the kids in every sweatshop, factory, and slaughter house in this town, I beg you… throw down your papers and join the strike.” Disney’s Jack is more a verbal peacemaker than brute enforcer.

Along with Jack Kelly, David ‘Davey’ Jacobs, and the entire Jacobs family didn’t exist either. In the 1992 Newsies movie, the Jacobs family took Jack in when David and Les, two brothers, became newsies. Davey suggested the strike and became Jack's right-hand during the strike. Sarah, Davey and Les's sister, was Jack's love interest, but an otherwise unimportant character who was written out in the stage production. The Jacobs parents aren't in the stage version, as well. They’re mentioned a few times, but never shown or talked about in much detail. The family, in the movie, showed Jack what it was like to have a real family, as none of the newsboys really had families. This idea of a perfect family and Jack;s want of this idea becomes a recurring theme in Jack’s storyline. There’s a possibility Davey was based off Dave Simmons, the president of the Strike Committee who was voted out alongside Blink for betraying the strike. Simmons was treasurer for the second half of the strike after being forced to step down from his higher position. Davey could’ve also been inspired by/based off Morris Cohen, who replaced Simmons as president of the strike committee. Consistent with the transition of Jack from thug-ish to more of a charismatic leader, Disney gave Jack more relatable family ties and direction.

Furthermore, Bryan Denton did not write the big stories that won the boys the strike. In fact, those articles don’t exist at all! As well as that, Bryan Denton did not actually exist. He was originated for the movie. It’s likely he wasn’t based off anyone in particular, seeing as though the articles from the time came from all over the place. Bryan served to unify the storytelling in somewhat of a narrator fashion that the audience can rally around.

On the topic of the newspaper reporters, Katherine Pulitzer/Plumber (Plumber having been the name she allegedly published under) did not write for ‘The New York Sun’ or anywhere, for that matter. While Katherine Pulitzer was a real person, she died of pneumonia at the age of 2 years old. In the Broadway musical, she’s written to replace both Sarah Jacobs, as Jack’s love interest, and Bryon Denton, as the reporter for the strike.

Another misrepresentation is the infamous leader of the Brooklyn Newsies, Spot Conlon. Spot Conlon, and the Brooklyn newsies, according to the musical/movie, were major influences on the strike. Disney makes it out like without Spot they wouldn't have won the strike at all. Racetrack Higgins, in Disney's versions, is just a newsie from Manhattan who loves to play poker and bet on horse races, when in actuality, Racetrack was the real ‘voice of Brooklyn’ and is mentioned throughout the papers as a major influence on the strike. He also gave a speech at the rally in Irving Hall, claiming to have confronted the chief of police, as well as threatening the boys if they thought of betraying the strike. Racetrack was temporarily vice-president of the strike committee after Blink and Simmons were voted out.

Disney also claims after Kelly betrays the strike, he joins the strike again to assist in writing and printing their own paper that helps them win the strike. Joseph Pulitzer, the owner of ‘The New York World’, sees the paper and makes Jack and the newsies an offer. He would lower the raise of price by half if they went back to work. Jack rebutted by saying that ‘The World’ would also buy back whatever papers the newsboys don’t sell, full price. In truth, over the two weeks that the boys were striking, ‘The World’ made many offers to which the Union’s Strike Committee turned down. Most of the newsies disagreed with the Strike Committee refusing to accept the offers. Eventually, Pulitzer made an offer to the newsies, not the Official Decision Makers of the strike. Pulitzer offered them 100% return rights. The newsies immediately accepted the offer, agreeing to go back to work, while the Union Committee, who disagreed with their decision to accept to offer, said they would continue to strike.

According to Disney’s Newsies, Pulitzer decided to raise the price of papers because once the war ended, they weren’t selling enough papers. Joseph Pulitzer wanted to put more money into flashy photos and headlines, so they could sell more newspapers. In order to do so, they raised the price of the newspapers from $.50 per hundred to $.60, meaning the newsies would have to sell 10 more papers just to make the same about as always. When the newsies saw the raise in price, they were immediately enraged and decided to strike. When the boys organized their first rally, Pulitzer tried to get the mayor and Snyder (the warden of The Refuge) to arrest Jack and get the rally shut down.

In actuality, ‘The World’, and most of the newspapers in the city, raised the price of their papers during the war, knowing that the headlines were dramatic enough that papers would sell easily. When the war ended, all the newspapers brought the prices back down, except for ‘The World’ and ‘The Journal’. Because the war had ended, papers weren’t selling as well, and the newsies couldn’t make enough money to survive. That being said, the newsies didn’t strike immediately. The war ended in August of 1898, and they didn’t strike until July 1899. They elected a group of boys to lead the strike called the Union Committee which consisted of Kid Blink as chief organizer, Dave Simmons as president, Little Mikey as an orator, and Jim Gaiety, Young Monix, Barney Peanuts, Crutch Morris, Crazy Arburn, Scabutch/Scabooch, and Abe Newman. The intention of Pulitzer was not as ill-intentioned and specific as Disney indicated.

Even the conclusion of the strike was changed to suit Disney’s narrative! They make it out to be more willing and accommodating than what actually happened. So, all that said, Disney’s Newsies represented the Newsboy Strike of 1899 inaccurately as evidenced by the fictional characters and plotlines.

*according to some sources, it could also be spelled ‘Balett(i)’

Works Cited

Anonymous. “‘The Looker-on’ Observing Racetrack Higgins”. Brooklyn Life, 29 July 1899. cityhallpark1899.com/2015/07/29/the-looker-racetrack-higgins/

Nasaw, David. “Read all about it: The story of the newsies’ two-week strike against publishers Pulitzer, Hearst”. New York Daily News, 14 August 2017. nydailynews.com/new-york/story-newsies-strike-titans-pulitzer-hearst-article-1.2858550

Siegrist, Julie. “Newsies the Movie: Is it Historically Accurate?” When I Can Breathe, Blogger, 19 January 2014. whenicanbreathe.blogspot.com/2014/01/evaluation-newsies-movie-is-it.html

Romero, Kristina. “Newsies: The real story compared with the movie/musical”. Calling Extra, WordPress, 24 March 2012. callingextra.com/author/kristina/

Newsboys of 1899, Tumblr.

Torin. “Historical Context Newsies”. The Gilder Lehrman. www.gilderlehrman.org/content/historical-context-newsies

Stern, Liz. “Blast From the Past: Newsboy Strike of 1899 “. History Detectives, New-York Historical Society, 27 July 2012. historydetectives.nyhistory.org/2012/07/blast-from-the-past-newsboy-strike-of-1899/

Morisako, Kira. “Kid Blink”. Extra! Extra! Newsboys Take A Stand: The Newsboys Strike of 1899, Weebly. newsboysstrike1899.weebly.com/kid-blink.html

Anonymous. “Newsboys' strike of 1899”. Wikiwand, Wikipedia. www.wikiwand.com/en/Newsboys%27_strike_of_1899#/Louis_%22Kid_Blink%22_Baletti

Anonymous. “Newsies Historical Research”. Newsies History, Tumblr. newsieshistory.tumblr.com/post/91454605563/some-things-we-know-about-the-real-kid-blink-part

#newsboy strike of 1899 #newsies #research paper #this took me months to write bc procrastination #its not good

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the-firebird69 · 2 years

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The dream disintegrates when my husband points out that the women are grabbed like their rabbits in very large numbers and they go quiet and say we're not doing very well and it's not them doing it.

You don't like the connotation but it might be true the old Briggs & Stratton and it's a legend just like Corky will be soon

He's doing your rendition in this hilarious. Clint Eastwood says that Ron remillard whatever his name is has no sense of humor at all and we agree

He said team thing but we can't do that

Thor Freya

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theodorasutton · 5 years

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Digital Anthropology and Formula 1

This blogpost starts with my entry to the DHL competition, which offers my own way into Formula 1, through the drama and personalities of the sport. After my entry, I’ve written my ideas for researching Formula 1 from the perspective of digital anthropology.

My Formula 1 Moment

A few months ago I entered a Formula 1 competition to describe my best F1 moment. I wrote a really heartfelt description and went to submit it, only to find out it was about 5 times too long. I cut it down, submitted, but knew it wasn’t any good. I decided to share the original version and describe my way into the sport which I absolutely never expected myself to like - here it is:

March, 2018. My boyfriend had been watching the Formula 1. The qualifying had ended, and now there was a press conference.

I had never been interested in sport, certainly not one that was so clinical and confusing as Formula 1. For me, all the drivers blurred into one, some seemed to wear red, others wore white, and all of them seemed strangely keen to wear logo embellished headgear. Here they were, three of them, herded behind some microphones, giving stilted answers to press questions. Distracted and on my phone, I was impatient for the end of the program so that we could watch something interesting. "I can assure you we don't have a party mode,” one of them was saying. "I used the same mode from Q2 to the end of Q3. There was no extra mode, no extra button I engaged in." "What were you doing before, then?” The guy in red asked him, taking a sip from his drink and smiling mischievously. "I was waiting to put a good lap in…” The guy in white said, “to wipe the smile off your face,” he added under his breath, with an extra dash of sass. Was he angry, or was he joking? It was hard to tell. The two of them seemed to be rigid with tension, but keen to put on a good show for the cameras. The guy in white patted the guy in red’s arm, insisting that he was only joking. The awkwardness was palpable, and the exchange had my full attention. The other guy in red, sitting on the right, however, seemed to be daydreaming. Who was this guy in white, who my boyfriend told me was winning everything? What planet had he landed from, that gave him the ability to win races with robotic precision? The guy in red with the mischievous smile seemed to be the underdog, and was endearing. The daydreaming one was pure comedy. “Do they have brawls in the bars after a race?” I asked. “I don’t know,” my boyfriend said. “I’m not sure they can drink. They have to maintain almost no body fat.” I frowned. “I hope the guy in red punches the guy in white,” I said. I envisioned him chucking TVs out of swanky hotel windows. I live for the drama. This was the moment that got me into Formula 1. For the first time I saw inside the machines that zoomed predictably around faraway racetracks. I started to realise that Formula 1 wasn’t just lap times, numbers on a screen, and a choice between hard or soft tyres; it was fundamentally about the people. There were egos, eye watering pay checks, glamorous locations, and a whole lot of pressure. There were feuds, confrontations, and tears. It wasn’t until much later that I realised the physical toll of driving a Formula 1 car, and the gym regime that accustomed drivers’ bodies to immense forces while going round the track. I had thought drivers were just pressing buttons inside a machine, but these were athletes putting their lives on the line. Lewis wasn’t always so sassy. He usually spoke with the measured words of a religious guru, emphasising gratitude and hard work. Meditating, praying, exercising, and listening to the right song before a race were apparently what helped him achieve his super-human results. We jubilantly listened to a Christina Aguilera where he was rumoured to perform a hilarious and cringeworthy rap. “Imagine all the other drivers teasing him with it,” I said. It took me a while to realise that Sebastian was a four-time world champion. His voice was low and disinterested while he gave clamouring journalists a run through of his race. In Bahrain, in 2019, Lewis seemed to make him spin on the track through pure intimidation. After races, we watched eagerly for the private moment when the top three drivers would meet in the break room, wipe the sweat off their faces, shake hands, and grimace after two hours of ruthless competition. Was the loser completely crushed? What would they say to one another now that they were face to face? But it was Kimi who became the most entertaining of the three from the press conference that day. Often giving nonsensical answers to journalists (that started with the sound “bwoah”) or pretending to not hear them, he, too, was mischievous and clearly hated any kind of ceremony that stopped him either driving very fast, or going home. His elusiveness made me increasingly curious, and I searched for entertaining stories, finding ones about him napping on piles of tyres, drunkenly diving off a stage with no crowd to catch him, or screaming “gloves and steering wheel!” to a bewildered pit crew. Since that moment in March 2018 I’ve learned more about what really makes Formula 1 tick. I’ll be honest, I still switch off when people start talking about technical specs. But I love to watch the drivers, team principles, and pundits, when they find a way to say everything with just a look in their eyes, or a quiet dig at a competitor. I love it when there’s gossip and wild predictions, and memes to be made. I never thought I would love a sport like I love Formula 1 now, but it was the people - and Lewis’ sass - that got me where I am now.

Digital Anthropology and Formula 1

Through getting my head around F1, I’ve unsurprisingly thought about it in terms of my own research into digital anthropology - or how technology is part of our social world today. I truly know nothing about sport, so I may be wrong, but it seems that F1 is the most technologically mediated sport there is. Rather than athletes who test their physical capabilities, the drivers’ abilities are mediated through a machine, which could be working well, or could be crawling round the track. That machine has been built from the ground up, bolt by bolt, by engineers constantly trying to improve on the vision of the four-wheeled vehicle. They don’t simply drive the same car at each race, it’s continuously evolving and being tinkered with by the team and its engineers in-between weekends.

F1 car aerodynamics Rather than watching the race directly, the teams themselves watch a row of television screens. For starters, the circuit is too big to see in one go, and the noises are too loud to expose your ears to. To experience F1, even for those participating, necessitates cameras and microphones and screens. But the teams are not only watching footage of the race, but endless numbers dancing in front of their eyes, listing speed for each sector, tyre wear, temperatures, and predictions. What secret software do they rely upon to give them an advantage over others - what algorithms are at work, invisibly measuring and shaping the race? Do they have the problem of too much data - data saturation or InfoObesity - where they can learn no more, or they struggle to store, protect, or analyse the information flying at them?

Renault’s Pit Wall, Singapore GP

Pit wall display screen, from Reddit

While the celebrity drivers of F1 plummet themselves around a track several centimetres away from the tarmac - sometimes losing up to 3 litres of water and 4kg in one race - F1 is equally a mathematical sport. This interplay of bodies and technology, personality and data, is fascinating. If I were to design a research project on F1, it would ask how these aspects of the sport are reconciled. What relationship do the teams have with their technology? Are strategies based more on digital information - “The computer says we should do this, so we’ll do it"? Or do they put their faith in people like Hamilton, knowing that his judgment in split seconds would prevail?

Masculinity and aggression would be important themes. Comparing Formula 1 to my limited knowledge of football or rugby, where frustration can be taken out with shouting, running, tumbling, or even brief fights, I wonder if F1 is more of a restrained, poised sport, played behind a veil of respectability, where resentment comes out not physically, but in catty, underhand plays, spies, cutting people out, or perhaps insistently pronouncing your name wrong. My suggestion that Hamilton might throw some TVs out of a window was an attempt to understand where that necessary frustration ends up. A clip of Ricciardo screaming with his helmet still on, Verstappen shoving Ocon, or Schumacher marching furiously up the pit lane towards Coulthard, pulls back the curtain. Behind the scenes, what dastardly behaviour lurks? I also wonder how the teams would take failure differently if they were all women. After both Red Bull cars were taken out of the same race, I remember saying to my boyfriend that “I wouldn’t want to be in a room full of those angry Red Bull workers.” When Haas repeatedly have outbursts on their radios, they seem to be transgressing an invisible rule of Formula 1, that anger is a private matter. What other invisible rules are there that shape team behaviour, and create friction between them?

Haas team principle Gunther Steiner’s outburst at Sochi, for which he was fined $7500

At the same time, while teams seem keen to control their presentation, moments of intense emotion, and authentic reactions of the drivers and pit crew, give fans something to go on. How does Formula 1 balance its primary purpose - the need to be entertaining, with the teams' clear desire to maintain professionalism and secrecy? In 2017, F1 released YouTube videos of the post race driver briefings, which featured drivers sat in rows like bored schoolboys. The videos are extremely entertaining, mostly due to the comedic camerawork and Grosjean attempting to get other drivers into trouble - but the uploads have since stopped, possibly because it was too much of an invasion into the meetings. Netflix’s 2019 series “Formula 1: Drive to Survive” gave us a behind the scenes look, and helped us meet the personalities in F1 and empathise with their stories and struggles. In the recent On The Marbles podcast, Lee McKenzie explains that one reason why AutoSport is going out of print is the on-brand messages from the teams are too bland and repetitive for the price of the magazine. My own entry to the DHL competition displays my feeling that the sport needs drama to continue. This tension plays out everywhere. As the stewards continue to penalise small errors in driving, they curtail more of the scrappy, fight-y racing that the drivers seem to enjoy as much as the spectators, resulting in races that are “boring” and “processional.” Rather than relying on printed interviews, fans may be turning to social media to connect more closely with the characters in the sport. Through Instagram, Reddit, and YouTube, fans create memes based on the funniest moments on and off track, some of which endure for months.

Left: A fan’s take on Haas’ “I think Ericsson hit us”. Right: The radio message to Kimi Raikkonen when his drink was not connected The McLaren driver Lando Norris, only 19 years old, posts stories on his Instagram most days, and welcomes the playful Internet world of memes and ridiculousness in a way that breaks with the usual “robotic monotony” of drivers. It turns out that in his spare time, when he’s not racing in real life, he enjoys racing Verstappen on a video game. In this way, through following them on Instagram, fans can see relationships between the drivers - in a recent example, Ricciardo and Leclerc teased each other on their own respective Instagram accounts during a shared flight. Technology is playing a role, then, not only in the broadcasting of sport, but in the way that fans can relate to F1 and its personalities, by viewing mundane and everyday moments that span much further than the race weekend.

Left: Ricciardo’s selfie with sleeping teammate Verstappen Middle: Norris’ Instagram, teasing his teammate Sainz Right: Leclerc jokes about a misspelling of his name

Research Outline

Taking an academic view of Formula 1 Absolutely Totally Seriously, I would propose viewing it through the idea of Rationality. Rationality has come up in my work on digital detoxing, where in a “Disenchanted” modern world, we perceive that technological progress explains the world down to neat facts and figures. We can bend the world to our own ends, since everything becomes calculable. To act rationally would be to do things for the intended goal, without the need for guesswork or fate.

Interpreting Formula 1 in these terms, the sport splits into its Rational and Irrational aspects. On the one hand, teams design machines using cutting edge technology, and sensors and numbers tell them how to optimise the car to be more likely to win. On the other hand, the teams are made of people, who are emotional, or rather irrational - who might in fact be the key ingredient for winning (like the magical je ne sais quoi of Lewis Hamilton or Ayrton Senna), or who might require motivating, might cause problems, or make mistakes.

I would hypothesise that the teams themselves prefer a rational view of F1. They want everything to be predictable, structured, cool, calm and collected. However, in order to survive, in order to entertain, the sport requires Irrationality - drama, friction, emotion, personality. Also under this heading would be fate, luck, the driver’s own headspace and personal life. A research project of Formula 1 would look at how the teams manage tension between these two aspects - and I would aim to answer questions through an ethnography of team culture.

My research questions would be something like this.

How do the teams incorporate digital technology into their work, and do Formula 1 teams rely more on technology, or on human skill?

What norms are there around emotion in Formula 1, and how is emotion managed by the teams?

How do Formula 1 teams balance the need to be entertaining with the need to win, and how is social media changing their relationship to this?

I better get back to my thesis.

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racetrackhiggins · 5 years

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Fidget

A Davey centered fic

word count: 5777 warnings: panic attack, delancey bullying, cursing i guess pairings: well. it was supposed to be javey when i started it. davey/jack/crutchie/race

ao3 version: (x)

i’m thinking about one of two things for a possible sequel... either three entirely separate chapters that are like alternate branches from the ending of this, one for each (davey) ship, or just saying screw it and just having a polyship, so if anyone has a preference, feel free to suggest one or the other. anyways, enjoy what was supposed to be a like 1000 word one shot.

David Jacobs was not scared. Anxious, maybe, but it wasn’t like he was just going to hide in his bed because of his nerves of going to a new place… Okay, well, maybe he was. He looked at his phone as the alarm rang again, and he hit snooze again, hoping that maybe it would buy him time to prepare himself. Of course, Sarah wasn’t going to let him do that.

“Dave, come on, we have to go or we’ll be late!” she called, opening his bedroom door so he had no choice but to get up.

David still thought that maybe he could buy another minute or two. But Les came in, shaking him, “Come on, come on! Sarah’s driving me to school too!”

“Alright, alright, I’m coming! Give me five minutes,” Dave said.

“Alright, but’cha better be down there or I’ll get Sarah!” Les said as he scampered off.

David sighed, closing the door so he could get dressed. He’d already spent two hours last night trying to find an outfit that would make a nice first impression but not be too much. As he tugged on the simple ensemble, he wasn’t sure about it. What had he been thinking, a polo? He was practically asking to get made fun of!

“David, I’m leaving in two minutes!” Sarah called from downstairs.

“I’ll be right down!” he called back, sighing and fixing his collar, trying to make his hair lay flat, which of course it refused to. He didn’t have time for this now.

He grabbed his messenger bag, making sure he had everything he needed, wait. He frantically looked around for a second, relaxing when he saw the little bean-filled cat. He let out a shaky breath, squishing the beans in it for a moment to calm himself down before he put it in the side pocket of his backpack, in the mesh part for holding water bottles.

“We can do this, Noodles… I can do this…”

He stood up, going downstairs to where his siblings were waiting.

As soon as they saw him, Les ran out the door and Sarah grabbed her keys, ruffling his hair.

“It’s gonna be fine, David, it’ll probably just be a normal boring school day, just with some new people,” Sarah said as he tried to fix it with a groan.

“Easy for you to say, everyone always loves you after talking to you like five minutes,” David grumbled as they got into Sarah’s old car.

“Well maybe if you actually tried to talk to people,” Sarah retorted, glancing at him before she pulled out of the driveway.

David didn’t respond to that, instead, he let Les talk on and on about how excited he was to start at a new school and what he hoped would happen. David didn’t quite have that level of enthusiasm. In fact, if the world just suddenly ended, he’d have no problem with it cause then at least he wouldn’t have to deal with new people and being the new kid halfway through the semester. Not that his other school had been particularly good, but he also didn’t see how it could get any better. He simply watched out the window, idly messing with his cat toy.

Once they dropped Les off at his elementary school, they were headed towards their new high school. This whole situation was totally unfair to him cause if something happened to Sarah or Les, Les would be going to the middle school next year, and Sarah off to college. But no, he’d be stuck there for another year. Being the middle child sucked.

As Sarah parked, he felt his nerves shoot up again, and he went to find his schedule and his map again as Sarah got out like this wasn’t any big deal. God, having an anxiety disorder sucked too. He found the sheets, getting out and letting Sarah lock the car as they walked towards the building, and he could feel his hands beginning to sweat.

“Stop overthinking things, I can hear your brain whirling from here,” Sarah said, smacking his arm lightly. “I’ll walk you to your first class, but from there you’re on your own.”

David nodded, making a bit of a face at her as they walked. Thankfully, she kept close as they walked through people, some of which turned to look at them, but most ignored them. They found Dave’s first class, English with Mr. Weisel.

“Meet me by my car after school, text me if you need anything, anything else I should say as the oldest sibling, blah blah,” Sarah grinned.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” David smiled back, but as soon as she left his nerves kicked in again.

A boy sitting across the little hallway whistled, “Was that your sister?”

Another boy sitting beside him said, “Ay, can I get a number?”

“I think I’m in love,” a third boy swooned.

David decided to ignore them as he pretended to look on his phone, just trying to pass the time until the bell would ring and he could go in.

“Ay, you new here or somethin’? I ain’t never seen you around here,” the first boy asked, making David look up.

Not trusting his voice, he simply nodded.

“Ay, well, welcome to ‘Hatten High! The name’s Racetrack Higgins, erryone round here calls me Race,” the boy said, standing up with a flourish. “These here fellas are Albert and Romeo.”

“Um… Nice to meet you, uh, Racetrack,” David said a little slowly. Surely that couldn’t be his real name, but he guessed it didn’t much matter anyway.

“And what’s yours, pretty boy?” Albert asked, nodding his head at him.

“D-David,” he answered, trying not to flush at the nickname.

“Well, itsa pleasure ta meet ya, Davey!” Race grinned.

Was he this friendly with everyone? David sighed in relief when the bell rang, opening the door and sitting in one of the seats in the front.

“Whoa, whoa, you don’t wanna sit there,” Romeo warned.

“That’s Jack Kelly’s seat,” Albert said, nodding and sitting at his own seat.

“Are there assigned seats?” David asked, not moving.

“No, but Jack sits there every day, so it’s his seat,” Race explained, sitting behind him.

“It’s kind of silly to expect me to move just cause some kid sits here every day, isn’t it?” David said, raising his brow at Race. Being turned around in his seat, he didn’t notice the boy coming over to him. “After all, I was here first.”

“That you were, kid,” a voice very close to David said, making him jump and turn back around.

Bent over the desk, propped with his head in his hands and his elbows on the desk, was the most attractive boy David had ever seen in his life, smirking at him. Oh dear god, help him.

“Sorry, Jack, we tried ta warn him,” Race grinned.

“That’s alright, I’ll sit by you today, Race,” Jack said, sliding behind David, who was just trying to not panic but now for a much gayer reason.

“Hi,” said a smaller blonde boy with a crutch said as he sat beside David. “I’m Crutchie!”

“Th-that can’t be your real name,” David said, looking at him in concern.

Crutchie just laughed, shrugging. “We all have nicknames, and if you’re wondering if it bothers me, it doesn’t. What’s yours?”

David could feel Jack’s piercing stare on him without even turning around all the way. “D-David.”

“What, you scared of us or somethin’?” Jack said, making David jump in his seat.

“N-no,” Dave said very unconvincingly. He cleared his throat, “Just, uh, new place and all.”

“Well, there ain’t no reason to be afraid, we don’t bite,” Jack said with a grin. “Unless you want us to,” he added with a wink.

David did not blush, no way, he just simply turned back around and started getting out his notebook, idly squishing Noodles to get his heart rate back in check as the teacher came to the front of the room.

“Hey, how was your weekend, Weasel?” Race asked the teacher.

“It’s Weisel, and please could you say Mr. for once?” he replied, sounding defeated, as though this happened often.

“Sure thing, Mr. Weasel!” Albert said, making the other boys laugh.

“Don’t make me give you detention again, Albert,” he said. “Anyways, let’s get started. Ah, I see our new student is here, David is it?”

Dave nodded.

Weisel gave him a look, “Well, don’t try to cause any trouble like your neighbors do. You’ll get caught up, so pay attention. Now, everyone open your books to page 234.”

Dave followed instructions, trying to ignore the boy behind him, who he swear he could still feel the eyes of.

Thankfully, Jack had another class after Weisel’s that was the opposite direction, so David was spared for at least an hour. And Race offered to help him find his next class, which turned out he shared with him.

Algebra was run of the mill, he easily knew where they were, and Race had looked at him like an angel sent by heaven when he offered help to the struggling boy.

Race had tagged him off to Crutchie for the choir class they shared. Not that Dave didn’t like singing, but the only reason he’d taken it was cause it was the only elective other than woodshop available at this point in the semester. But Crutchie seemed friendly enough, so he guessed he was glad to sit next to him. They’d finished early, so David went back over his schedule.

“Oh, you have French next?” Crutchie tried to think if any of the boys were taking that. “I know Romeo was taking French cause he wanted to ‘impress the ladies’, but I can’t remember when it was. I think he’s in that one, but I might be wrong. Either way, it’s right by Weisel’s room, just like down the hall and to the left.”

“Thanks, I really appreciate the help you and Race have been giving me today,” David said honestly.

“It’s no problem, really,” Crutchie waved it off, smiling bright as the sun. “Hey, you got anywhere to go for lunch?”

David faltered, looking down. He hadn’t even thought about that. He could maybe tag along with Sarah, whatever she was doing. But he didn’t really want to intrude if she had found some friends.

“Me and the boys eat out in that courtyard out behind the school, where those tables are, if you’d like to join us,” Crutchie offered. “You’ve already seen most of them, in homeroom.”

“That’s very kind of you, but I wouldn’t want to intrude,” David said softly.

“No, no,” Crutchie said, swatting his arm lightly. “No intrusion, it’s an invitation. Come on, at least give it a chance, since ya don’t have anywhere else to go today.”

“The way you say that makes it sound shady,” Dave made a face.

Crutchie laughed, “Maybe! You’ll have to come find out, won’t you?”

David managed a soft smile. Well, at least it gave him a place to hang out for today. “Alright. But if there’s anything shady, I’m bailing.”

“Deal!”

And so David Jacobs found his way back to Jack Kelly.

“Ah, so the infamous seat stealer comes to steal my crown again, ay?” Jack said loudly as he saw David walk over, fidgeting with the strap of his bag.

“Crutchie invited me over here, so…” David wasn’t really sure what else to say. There were the eyes of like fifteen boys on him.

Crutchie nodded, “And I was beginning to think you bailed out.” He gestured for him to sit on the seat next to him, and Race scooted over so he could.

“So, Davey, guess I should introduce you to the boys!” Jack nearly bellowed. David couldn’t help but think his accent was cute. Well, they all had the accent, technically he’d probably be considered the one with an accent since he was the different one, but still.

“You already know Race and Crutchie, Albert, Henry, Elmer, Specs. That over there is Finch, Buttons, Jojo. Sniper and Splasher. Blink and Mush, Romeo, Mike ‘n Ike, and Tommy Boy.” As he spoke, Jack pointed to each boy in turn while David tried to remember their names and faces.

David waved a little, giving a slightly weak smile at the array of boys before he turned back to Jack. “So like… what is this? Like are you all just friends or is it a club or something?”

“We call ourselves the Newsboy Union cause we all used to work on the school paper,” Crutchie explained. “Or the Newsies for short.”

David looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. “There’s a school newspaper?”

Race shrugged beside him, “Not anymore, they actually got rid of it the end of last year cause no one was readin’ it.”

“But we was all friends, so we stayed in touch,” Jack grinned.

“That’s good, I guess.” David didn’t add the thought he was thinking of “I’ve never known what that was like.”

Slowly, the Newsies began going back to their conversations, and David pulled his messenger bag onto his lap to get his sandwich. Race seemed to notice the little cat toy on the side.

“Aw, what’s this?” he asked, poking at the beans.

“Oh, um…” David flushed a little, he didn’t really want to admit why he had it but… “It’s, um, it helps me calm down when I’m nervous.”

“That’s adorable,” Race grinned, although it seemed genuine and not mocking.

“Um, thanks,” Davey said, squishing the beans a little to calm himself, not noticing Jack watching.

The rest of lunch, and the day, went by without a hitch. None of his classes didn’t have at least one Newsie in it, so there was a somewhat familiar face everywhere he turned. It was odd but nice to have people clapping his back and ruffling his hair when they saw him.

He was alone now, walking towards the front of campus to meet Sarah when two boys stopped him. They looked like seniors, and David could immediately tell that they weren’t stopping him to make friends.

“Excuse me,” he said, trying to push past them, but of course they moved to block him.

“What’s this?” one of them asked, reaching down and grabbing Noodles before Dave could stop him. “Aw, a little cat for the little pussy!”

David couldn’t move. His breath hitched, and red alerts were going off in his head, and he frantically tried to grab his toy back, getting pushed back by the other. Dave fell flat on his ass, his hands beginning to shake as the one holding his beloved toy began pulling on the loose string Davey had meant to fix a few days ago. He gasped out weak protests as the string broke and the beans began to fall out of it. Noodles’ whole torso was ripped in half, then the senior threw it on the ground, dirtying it with the bottom of his shoe. Davey was doubled over, hyperventilating as they laughed, tears running down his face. He didn’t hear the shout from behind him, all he could think was the most precious thing to him was ruined, completely destroyed, and he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t feel his hands, they were going numb, he couldn’t breathe.

“Davey, Davey, look at me,” Crutchie’s voice said, snapping him out of it a little. He faintly felt Crutchie’s hands holding both of his. “Breathe, in, out, in, out.”

Davey tried to follow, but he couldn’t, he kept messing it up and getting more frustrated about it, tears pricked his eyes again, but Crutchie squeezed his hands.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, just focus on breathing, I got you, I’m right here,” the blonde said easily, the tone helping Dave relax even through the sounds of fighting he now heard. Crutchie made sure his eyes stayed on him, blocking the view of whatever was happening behind him.

“If you ever so much as look in his fucking direction again, I’ll have my whole gang on you, and I swear that on my fuckin’ mudda!” Jack yelled after the two seniors, absolutely fuming. “Fucking cowards,” he muttered under his breath, picking up the torn cat as he kneeled beside Davey. “You alright, Davey? Shit…”

Davey was obviously not alright, tears streaking down his cheeks and dizzy from his panic attack, heartbroken about his favorite toy and support system being wrecked.

“Ay, don’tchu worry, we’ll fix this, alright?” Jack said, sounding as nervous as Davey felt.

“I’ll call Buttons, he can fix it up, he’s probably still in the library with Finch,” Albert said, already pulling out his phone.

Race was holding his face, and Davey realized that a black eye was forming. At his worried look, Race waved him off. “Ah, don’t worry ‘bout me, I get ‘em all the time.”

Davey covered his mouth, tears threatening to fall again, but for a different reason this time.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s alright, it’s alright!” Jack said almost frantically, putting a hand on Davey’s shoulder. “Don’t- don’t cry!”

“Wh-why are you guys being so nice to me?” Dave asked hoarsely, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Cause you’re our friend now,” Crutchie said softly, rubbing his shoulder. “Friends look out for each other.”

“Yeah, besides, the Delancey brothers deserved a good soakin’ anyways,” Race grinned. “Fuckin’ bastards always think they’re better than everyone else.”

Davey’s throat closed up and he couldn’t answer to either of them. He felt a buzzing in his pocket and jumped, taking his phone out. It was Sarah. Davey looked at it, looking back up at the others, knowing he couldn’t answer it.

“Is that your sister we saw earlier?” Race asked.

Davey nodded, and Race took the phone and answered it. The boys all half expected him to answer with a flirt, but to their surprise, he was completely serious.

“I’m a friend a Davey’s, he got in a predicament with some nasty fellas, but we got him, he’s alright now.” Race said into the phone, pausing a moment. “Yeah, I don’t think he can talk at the moment, he’s kinda shaken up about it, and his little beanie cat got destroyed.” Another pause. “Oh shit… well, that makes sense.” Pause. “Yeah, we can get him home, we’ll make sure he’s there by sundown.” He hung up the phone, giving it back to Davey, who was watching him with wide eyes. “She says she has ta go pick up your brudda, so we’ll take ya home.”

“Buttons and Finch are on the way too,” Albert said. “Buttons says he ain’t doin’ anything tonight so he’ll be able to help as long as he’s home for dinner.”

Davey was just trying not to cry again, and Crutchie hugged him lightly enough that Dave could push him off if he was uncomfortable, Jack keeping his hand on Dave’s shoulder. Race ruffled Davey’s hair gently. David wasn’t used to this much contact but he didn’t exactly hate it. They all stayed like that for a few long moments, Albert watching for the other two.

When Buttons and Finch came running down, Jack stood up, bringing the toy to Buttons, who took it and began folding it over, nodding.

“Yeah, we get more of the filling for it and it’ll be an easy fix, we can get that at a craft store, there’s one a couple blocks down,” Buttons said.

“I’ll pay you for it, and anything else you need ta fix it, we can go to my place and wash it so the Delancey stink is off of it,” Jack said, fishing out a twenty from his wallet and handing it to Buttons. “Meet us there?”

Buttons took the money and nodded, going off with Finch to get the supplies. Albert signaled he was going home since they had it covered and would see them later. Jack helped Crutchie stand while Race got Davey up, slinging an arm around him.

“How’s about we stop and get you somethin’ ta cheer up in the meantime? There’s a candy shop on the way ta Jack’s apartment,” Race suggested.

“I-I don’t have any money on me,” Davey said.

Race pat Davey’s chest lightly, “My treat.”

Well, Dave couldn’t exactly not blush or say no to that. “O-okay,” he squeaked out.

Race led him behind the other two, keeping his arm around his shoulders so while they walked through the crowds down the street, Davey wouldn’t feel crushed in them. It actually really helped, cause otherwise, Davey might’ve been freaking out at so many people around. He wasn’t used to the crowds of the city yet, and he was thankful Jack and Crutchie were pushing through first.

When they pulled into the candy shop, Davey let out a small breath, happy to be out of the crowds. Then his eyes widened at how colorful the small store was. Race, a little to Davey’s disappointment, took his arm away, nudging him forward.

“Go on, anythin’ ya want.”

He noticed the other three looked around but didn’t seem to be getting anything.

“Are you not getting any?” Davey asked, a bit of concern in his voice.

Race realized he was getting anxious about being the only one getting something, and he shrugged. “I figured you get enough, I can just steal from you,” he teased.

Davey seemed to take note of that, “Then what would you suggest I get?”

Race saw what he was doing. “You put one of those chocolate cigars in there and I’ll be gold. Anything else is up ta you.”

Davey did so, seeming more content with that as he put some dark chocolate candy and some sour lemon candies into the little plastic baggie. Race took out a ten dollar bill, paying for the candy, and then the four were on their way again. And if Race pulled Davey back under his arm to make sure he didn’t run into a woman only to leave it there, no one said anything about it.

A couple blocks later, and the crowds had loosened up, and there weren’t as many people walking down this street. For New York City, it was actually pretty quiet. Jack lead them up some steps to an apartment, unlocking the door and letting them in.

It was a little small, a little dirty, but it wasn’t bad. They shuffled in through the small hallway, and Race took Davey to the couch, flopping onto it like it was his own. Crutchie took his place on a chair beside them, setting his crutch to the side. Meanwhile, Jack went into the kitchen, deciding to handwash Noodles. Realizing this, Davey followed him in after setting his bag down while Race flipped through channels.

Jack was filling up the sink with warm water, making a sort of bubble bath for the dirty cat to soak in. He didn’t seem to notice Davey was standing there yet, his brows furrowed in focus as he rubbed the grime off of the toy.

“Jack?”

Jack looked up, a little startled, as Davey walked over.

“Yeah, what is it?” he asked, looking back at Noodles.

“Thanks. For everything. And also sorry I stole your seat this morning, you can have it back tomorrow,” Davey said, looking at him.

Jack smiled, almost laughing. “Nah, you can keep it, prolly best ta keep you and Crutchie together, I’m really no good at dealing with anxiety, as you mighta seen today.”

“You helped in your own way. You got the source away, since it was a physical one this time, and now you’re helping me fix the problem. I’d say that’s dealing with it in a way,” Dave said softly.

“It’s the least I could do,” Jack mumbled.

“It’s really not. You are going out of your way to do this for me, even though it’s stupid and probably silly,” David said, and it was quite matter-of-fact. “So thank you.”

“It ain’t stupid or silly if it helps ya, Davey,” Jack said. “We all got things that keep us goin’, and if yours is a little stuffed cat, then so be it.”

Davey smiled shyly. “His name is Noodles.”

Jack nodded, pulling the soaking wet Noodles out of the sink. He pretended to shake his paw. “Hello, Sir Noodles, it’s an honor to meet you. Thank you for your service in helping our Davey, and we will get you back on the front line as soon as we can.”

Davey started laughing at that, covering his mouth. He shook his head at Jack, who was grinning back at him.

“Well, ain’t that a nice sound?” Jack teased.

Davey blushed a little, putting his hand down and holding them together, still smiling softly. It didn’t help the redness on his face that Jack was still looking at him. So, he went to the sink, not really thinking about the fact that that just brought them closer. He squished Noodles’ head, feeling the water squeeze out with some bubbles. Jack turned the sink back on and Davey rinsed his stuffie off, squeezing the soap out gently. Once content with it, Jack led him to the dryer, starting it up once Davey had placed it gently inside and closed the door.

They both headed back wordlessly back into the living room. Race had the chocolate cigar in his mouth, and he pretended to puff it out at Davey, who snorted and shook his head as he sat back on the couch beside him. Jack was still standing, checking his phone.

“What’cha doin’ over there?” Race asked, looking over at Jack.

Jack looked up, raising his eyebrows. “Ah, Finch says they have to detour to Button’s place real quick so they’ll be a bit longer, but they’ll be here within the hour.” He shrugged, “Gives Noodles time to dry anyways.”

“Aw, is its name Noodles?” Crutchie asked, looking at Davey, who nodded shyly.

Race reached over, pinching Dave’s cheek. “That’s adorable, Davey~”

Dave pushed his hand away, earning a laugh from Race. Jack flicked Race’s ear, and Race retaliated by smacking his arm. David thought from the sound it must’ve hurt, but Jack just laughed, messing up Race’s hair. He looked at Crutchie with a silent question of “do they do this often?” Crutchie smiled, waving his hand in a “don’t worry about it” motion.

By the time that Buttons and Finch got there, they’d gotten a pizza delivered that they all chipped in for (save for Davey, who felt bad about it). Noodles was out of the dryer, and Davey was holding the warm fabric, his plush cotton head still alright thankfully. Davey handed it to Buttons, who sat cross-legged on the floor across from them. Finch sat beside him, setting the bag between them.

“We’re watchin’ Goonies,” Race said.

Finch nodded at the movie choice and took a slice of pizza, while Buttons went to work, flipping the fabric inside out and beginning to stitch it up. Crutchie realized after about fifteen minutes that Davey was fidgeting with his hands anxiously as he watched Buttons work, picking at the skin around his nails enough to make it bleed. He stood, hopping over to the couch and sitting beside Davey, who looked at him in confusion. Crutchie took Davey’s hand, squeezing it gently. Davey blinked at that but seemed to relax a little bit, able to watch the movie a little more.

Within fifteen minutes, he’d completely sunk into Crutchie’s shoulder, the other boy’s arm around his shoulders. He had his other hand on Crutchie’s too, so the blond’s was sandwiched in between his own, mainly out of not knowing what else to do with it. Jack had stolen Crutchie’s chair since he moved, and Race was leaned against the couch beside them, idly chewing on the chocolate cigar as he watched the movie.

About half an hour later, Finch was helping Buttons pour the little plastic beans into the little hole left. Once it was filled, Buttons motioned for Davey to come over and feel.

“More or less filling?” he asked.

Davey squished it around testingly, “A little more, and then it’s perfect.”

Buttons nodded and added the beans, letting him try again.

Davey nodded happily, “Perfect!”

Buttons nodded, sewing up the last or it and tying it off, and Finch handed him the scissors. He cut off the string and handed him to Davey, who smiled widely as he inspected Noodles. Like he was brand new.

“Thank you so much, seriously, it means a lot,” Davey said, looking between the two.

“No problem, Davey,” Buttons said, smiling back at him.

“Besides, Jack mighta had our asses had we not,” Finch joked.

Davey stood, going back over to the couch, squishing Noodles’ beany tummy. All was right in the world now.

“Well, I gotta get home or Ma’s gonna have my ass. See you guys tomorrow,” Buttons said, standing as well, Finch following him with a salute.

The four remaining waved and said various goodbyes as they walked out. Davey looked at his own phone; Sarah had just texted asking if he was okay and if he was coming for dinner/should they save a plate for him. He replied that he’d be home soon, but he’d already eaten. She replied a moment later with a thumbs up emoji.

“I should probably head home before it gets dark,” Davey sighed, suddenly realizing that his home was not exactly a walkable distance. Well, it was technically, but it would be dark by the time he’d get home. “It’s kinda far…”

“You can take the subway,” Crutchie suggested.

“I’ve never taken the subway,” Davey said nervously as he grabbed his bag.

Race perked up. “I can take ya. Where ya at?”

Dave thought for a moment, “Over by the Chelsea Market.”

“Oh, yeah, I gotcha, that’s like twenty minutes,” Race said.

“You two get on outta here, we’ll see you tomorrow in homeroom,” Jack said with a smile. “You get some rest after your exciting first day,” he added with a wink to Davey.

Davey smiled softly, waving to the two… his friends. Race saluted before leading Dave out to the street, taking his hand as for some reason, he began running.

“Why are we running?!” Davey exclaimed.

Race laughed aloud to the sky, “Why not!”

“Because people are going to look at us weird?” Davey managed out, holding his bag under his arm.

“I dunno what it’s like wherever you’re from, but this is New York, baby!” Race said, looking back a moment to grin at him. “No one gives a fuck here!”

Davey managed to laugh as Race led him in a run through people, managing to get to the subway, and only did Race stop. Davey panted, not used to running. “I-is that why they call you Race?”

Race’s own face was flushed, and he giggled, holding Davey’s back to make sure he was okay. “Clever, aren’t ya? It’s actually cause I like to bet on horse races, but it’s a good guess.”

Once they’d caught their breath, Race led him through the subway system, getting tickets and waiting for the train. When they got on, Davey let out a small laugh, Race looking over at him with a smile.

“Thanks, Race,” he said, looking back at him.

“I figured you could use a laugh after the shit you dealt with today,” Race said, nudging Davey’s shoulder with his own.

“Yeah,” Davey said softly, looking at Race’s black eye and remembering it was there. “Is that gonna be alright though?”

“This?” Race asked, pointing at his eye. “Yeah, it’ll go away in a few days, it’s just a bruise. Fuckin’ Oscar managed to spot me, but I’ll say he looked much worse as they ran.”

“Do you guys get in fights often or was that just for me?” Davey asked, a little worriedly.

Race shrugged, “Not often, but it happens.”

Davey looked down at Noodles, squishing him between his fingers. Race leaned back against the seat, crossing his arms gently. There was something comforting about the rocking of the train car and the noise it made. Davey looked out the window, watching tunnel walls and graffiti pass by. It opened for a moment out to look over a piece of the city, and Davey smiled softly.

Race nudged him as they got close to their stop, and Davey made sure he had everything, double checking before they got off. They walked up the steps back out onto the street, and Davey could see his apartment complex from here. Race walked with him, looking around.

“This is me,” Davey said, walking a few steps up before turning to look back at Race. “Thanks for walking me home.”

“No problem, Davey. You ever have a problem, you know who to call.” Race seemed to realize something. He pulled out his phone. “Here, put your number in, I can add you to our big Newsies groupchat. Fair warning, put that shit on mute or it’ll never be quiet.”

Davey laughed, putting his contact in. “Thanks for the warning.”

“I’ll send you a list of their numbers so you can put their contacts in too,” Race said as he put his phone in his pocket.

“Okay,” Davey smiled genuinely. “Have a good night, Race.”

“You too, Davey,” Race saluted, stepping back but waiting until Davey was heading inside to walk off.

Davey, of course, was immediately interrogated about what happened, and he explained everything from homeroom to getting invited to lunch, to the attack and them helping him.

Once his family was satisfied with his answer and Sarah had teased him about his “boyfriends”, Davey was going back upstairs to his room, flopping onto his bed. He pulled out his phone, eating some of the dark chocolate that Race had bought him, seeing a flurry of messages that he blinked at.

He saved all the numbers, using Race’s text to put names to them. He looked at the groupchat, seeing a lot of “welcome, davey”s and “welcome to hell”s before it turned into memes and what were obviously inside jokes. He did go ahead and mute the chat but texted back “Thanks guys, I appreciate it.” followed shortly by a “I’m going to put my phone down though and get some homework done. Goodnight.”

By the time he’d finished the homework and done some light reading, it was nearly ten. He changed into his pajamas, shutting off his light and making his way back over to his bed, plugging his phone in. He saw he had a few texts.

Race: got home okay, in case u were worried ;) Race: goodnight sweetheart ;p

Crutchie: hope you’re feeling better! See you tomorrow

Jack: tell Noodles i say goodnight Jack: you too of course Jack: but nOodles has to know Jack: lol goodnight davey

Davey smiled, chuckling softly to himself. To Race, he sent, “I’m glad to hear it, have a good night.” To Crutchie, “I am, thank you. See you tomorrow.” To Jack, “Noodles very much appreciates the goodnight message, and could he talk, I’m sure would be wishing you a good night as well. Goodnight, Jack.”

He put his phone down, setting Noodles down beside it to protect it before he rolled over, going to sleep happier than he had in a long time.

#newsies #davey jacobs #jack kelly #racetrack higgins #crutchie morris #richie writes

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