#i need to come back to my newsies era

[newtsies]

actual footage of someone after meeting albert for the first time

#giggling #i was so funny wtf #i need to come back to my newsies era #i miss this acc tbh #might come back #newsies #livesies #newsies broadway #albert newsies #albert dasilva

[auspicious-manner]

Can i request newsies era mike trying to cheer up the reader on a bad day?

a year ago today, i uploaded my very first story on tumblr :,) i’ve written on other platforms before, but when i made this account a year ago, i was hoping for a fresh start. i didn’t know if people would like my writing, but i told myself it was worth a shot. and it’s been so worth it.

to everyone who reads my stories, interacts with it, follows me, and sends in request, i thank you. i write for you guys, and knowing that i’ve made others happy is truly such a gift. in honor of my one year anniversary, enjoy this mike story! it seems only fitting that i upload a mike story exactly a year after i uploaded my first mike story 😁

also, i recently got a request for a taglist for my stories! if any of you want to be added to my taglist for any of my stories/fandoms, pls just let me know! i never thought that would be something people would be interested in, so i never proposed it before 😅

fem reader x mike faist

warnings: sickness, accidents

mike taglist: @diorgirl444

Unlucky

•

the universe was clearly against you. there could be no other explanation. every event leading up to the show on this particular day led you one step closer to full fledged insanity.

you and mike were in newsies on broadway at the same time. he was one of the delancey brothers, an understudy for jack, and a newsie. you were a bowery beauty, nun, and an understudy for katherine. given that you and mike were so close and had the same schedule, a month prior you two had decided to move in together.

mike was your comfort person. you weren’t dating, but you weren’t friends. you were somewhere in the middle with him, but the two of you had never actually talked out your feelings. you both seemed to be happy with where you were.

on the fateful morning, you woke up and immediately sat up in your bed. your throat was scratchy. you frowned, immediately thinking of the worst. you took a sip of water and the pain was worse. not only that, but you were shivering under the weight of three blankets and a hoodie, and you felt like your head was going to split open at any second.

you had a fever.

you laid back down, groaning. you had a show tonight, and it was an important show. you had friends and family from out of town coming to support you, and they had been planning this trip for weeks.

“mike!” you called out, your voice slightly hoarse. there was no reply.

“mike!” you yelled a bit louder, your hands immediately going to hold your throat from the pain.

finally, when he didn’t reply again, you rolled over to get your phone to call him. he answered, almost annoyed. “Y/N, what do you want?”

“where are you?” you asked.

“i ran out to the store.”

you coughed gently. “are you still there?”

“no, why?”

you sighed, closing your eyes. “i’m sick and i wanted some cold medicine.”

there was silence for a few moments. “oh, are you okay?” mike asked, his tone immediately switching from one of annoyance to one of genuine concern.

“i’m fine, i just need to get better before the show starts tonight,” you replied, putting a hand on your forehead. you were burning up.

mike sighed. “you shouldn’t go on tonight if you’re sick, Y/N. it’s not worth it.”

“my family and friends from home are coming tonight. i absolutely cannot miss this.”

mike paused, like he was thinking about what to do. “okay, fine, i’ll go back to the store and bring you home some medicine.”

“thanks mike, see you soon.”

you hung up the call and laid your phone on the nightstand by your bed. after another fifteen minutes of zoning out, you came to the conclusion that there was no use in laying around being miserable all day. you figured that if you got up and made yourself useful you’d feel better.

you gently sat up, and slowly moved to put your feet on the floor. the cold hardwood beneath your feet made you even colder than you already were. you walked to the kitchen, feeling more fatigued than you ever had before. even though you weren’t hungry, you got out the ingredients to make an omelet. you were so focused on your cooking skills that the rest of the world faded into silence, but it also could have been the fact that you couldn’t hear because your sinuses were clogged.

as you were flipping the omelet in the pan, you heard a loud “boo!” in your ear and someone gently shoving you. you gasped, accidentally touching the side of the burning pan with your fingers. you yelped in pain and threw the pan back down on the stove, turning around to see mike with a grin on his face. however, the grin quickly faded when he saw not only your burnt fingers but also how sickly and pale you looked.

“mike, what the hell?” you croaked, holding your fingers as you walked to the freezer to grab some ice. it felt like the tips of your fingers had burned off.

mike put down his plastic grocery bag on the counter. “dammit, Y/N, i’m sorry. i didn’t realize you were this bad,” he said sadly.

you rolled your eyes, the coldness of the ice counteracting the burns on your fingers. “did you think i was kidding about being sick?”

“no, i just didn’t know you felt that terrible,” he paused. “are you sure you can perform tonight?”

you nodded. “i can’t miss it.”

mike gave you a look like he didn’t believe you, and that he didn’t like your stubborn decision. you both went silent before mike stepped closer to you, glancing at your burnt fingers. “now i feel bad for scaring you.”

you couldn’t help but crack a smile at mike. even though he scared you and caused you to burn three fingers, he always knew how to make you smile. “you should feel bad. my fingertips are in pain.”

you finished making your omelet and took some of the medicine mike had brought home. you planned to take some more medicine shortly before the show.

after the cold medicine kicked in and your fever was suppressed, you actually felt relatively okay. in order to convince yourself that you were better, you agreed to go to the park with mike for some fresh air.

walking around central park with mike was good for your soul. you loved the fresh air and the nature of it all, but having mike by your side made it so much better. as often as he got on your nerves, he was your best friend. he made you giddy and excited, and every time he complimented you after a show it would make you nervous and give you butterflies. he knew it did too, thats why he kept doing it; he liked making you flustered.

you layered on jackets in the brisk autumn air, as you still had a leftover chill in your body from your sickness.

“how are you feeling? better?” mike asked as you both walked.

“yeah, a lot better, but i know when that medicine wears off i’m going to feel like crap again. and wrapping my fingertips has made them feel a little bit better,” you said, glancing at your fingers that were wrapped in a thin layer of gauze and medical tape.

“is there anything i can do? you know, to help?”

you smiled to yourself. “no, mike, thank you though,” you said quietly and sweetly. “having you here is enough.”

mike blushed lightly, putting an arm lazily around your shoulders. “stop being so sappy.”

you continued like that for a while longer, with you under his arm enjoying the park around you. not long later, mike told you he was going to run to the bathroom, and you told him you’d wait by a tree for him.

as you waited, you people watched everyone around you. you thought about how everyone there had their own stories. their own lives. just as you were sick and preparing to perform in front of your closest friends and family for the first time, these other people had their own life problems to attend to, and no one would be the wiser. it was oddly peaceful knowing that there are so many stories being written around you.

suddenly, you were pulled out of your daydream by a soccer ball being kicked into the side of your head. you may have been people watching, but the kids playing with the ball seemed to come out of nowhere for you.

you held the side of your head and groaned as the sound of small footsteps approached you. “sorry, miss,” a little boy’s voice said as he grabbed the ball and ran back to his friends.

not long later, mike came back and saw you sitting against the tree, rubbing the side of your head.

“are you okay?” mike asked, reaching down to help you stand.

“some little brats kicked a soccer ball at my head,” you groaned. standing up made you feel a bit dizzy.

mike gently brushed the part of your head that was hit, and you winced. “god, Y/N, today is just not your day. that’s definitely going to bruise, let’s get you home.”

you walked back to your apartment together, and rested until it was time to head to the theater. you packed a backpack with everything you might need and you and mike headed off to the subway station.

as you boarded the subway, you tripped over a small ledge on the edge of the subway and began to fall, but luckily, mike was in front of you and you caught yourself on his back. you hoped no one noticed, but as you looked around, the people already sitting down were staring, and an old man snickered at your misfortune.

mike maneuvered himself so he was behind you, guiding you to an open spot. “what was that about?”

you were on the verge of tears. “i’m so unlucky today.”

mike hesitated before grabbing your hand and squeezing it tight. “hey, just think, tonight is going to be a great show, you have family and friends in the audience,” mike said close to your ear. “soon enough, everything that’s happened today won’t matter.”

you nodded. “i just hope the show goes well.”

you both arrived at the theater, checking yourselves in and preparing to head to your separate dressing rooms. before you parted ways, mike pulled you aside and brushed a strand of hair out of your face with his fingers. he could tell you were nervous.

“you’ll be just fine, Y/N. i’ll see you soon.”

in your dressing room, you unraveled the bandages over your fingers, and the skin was raw and tender. you weren’t exactly sure how to cover it for the show, but you dabbed some skin colored makeup onto it in hopes that it would be unnoticeable.

you looked at yourself in the mirror; you really did seem out of it. your head hurt, you fingers hurt, and your cold medicine was beginning to wear off. you reached into your backpack to find the medicine and you took it, hoping for some type of relief.

not long before the show started, you warmed up your voice as you got your costume on. there was a knock at the door and you yelled “come in!” to whoever it was. the door swung open and you found mike in his newsie/delancey costume and makeup. you always thought he looked so good in his costumes.

“how are you feeling?” mike asked, walking up to you. you were in your nun costume, so you didn’t seem as flattering as you would have liked.

“well, my fingers are sore, my head hurts, and my ego is bruised from almost falling earlier. but at least my medicine is working,” you said sarcastically. you tried to play it off as something funny, but inside you were a nervous, painful wreck. you were trying to fake it ‘til you made it, but mike saw right through you.

his blue eyes softened, and he rubbed your shoulders comfortingly. “i know you’re nervous, and i know you are having a rough day. but breathe, and stay focused. you’re the most talented person i know. you can get through this.”

you closed your eyes and breathed out. he instantly made you feel better. the cold medicine helped to an extent, but mike was your ultimate cure for all ailments.

“will i see you after the show?” you asked. a lot of times, mike was able to leave the theater earlier than you after the show, and more often than not, you liked to chat with everyone and stick around for longer. you didn’t mind that mike never seemed to hang around much after the show.

“you’ve got friends and family to see, so i’ll probably head home right after. is that okay?” he asked gently, like he didn’t want to be the next thing to set you off.

you nodded understandingly. “of course, mike. i’ll see you during the show.”

mike smiled and patted your shoulder before heading out.

the show began, and you waited in the wings for your first scene. your first scene was during carrying the banner, where the three nuns feed the newsie boys.

as you went out on stage, your mind seemed to be in a blur. you felt like you couldn’t concentrate. the goal was for muscle memory to kick in, and you didn’t have to worry about anything. sadly, it didn’t, and during your part of carrying the banner, your voice cracked due to your sickness, and it felt sharp and out of place against the angelic voices of the other nuns.

your eyes widened, and you prayed nobody heard it despite it being insanely obvious. you fought the urge to cry onstage.

at the end of that segment, you headed off the stage and had no time to think about your mistake before hurriedly getting into your bowery beauty costume. you wanted to go home. you wanted to be with mike. at this point, you didn’t even care to see your friends and family from out of town. there was only one person that mattered.

you got into costume and looked at yourself in the mirror. you tried to pull yourself together, since you had friends and family in the audience that undoubtedly saw your screw up. you had to bring it back.

as your time approached for the scene in medda’s theater, you waited in the wings, trying to calm yourself down. you tried your hardest to ignore the pain on your head and your fingers.

finally, it was time to go onstage, and everything was going just fine. you didn’t want to get too confident, however, because you had a feeling if you did it would all come crashing down again.

you got through your bowery beauty scene in one piece, with no mishaps. you were feeling better mentally and physically.

you waited in your dressing room for curtain call, and as you walked out on stage to take your bow, you raised your arm and smiled into the crowd. as you brought your arm down to bow, your arm hit the back of your wig, and it slid down over your head. you quickly and nervously attempted to cover your mistake, and you slid the wig back up before walking to the back of the stage.

that seemed to be the last straw for you. a stray tear escaped your eye and you hoped no one saw. this was the worst day possible. you had friends and family in the audience and you wanted everything to be perfect, but it was far from it. you felt like crap, your head and fingers ached, and you were embarrassed. as you watched mike take his bow on stage, you wanted nothing more than to be comforted by him. you needed him by your side.

however, nothing was ever that easy, and you still had to get out of makeup and costume and talk with the people that came to see you all while holding back the tears that were inevitably going to come out.

you took off your costume as fast as possible, avoiding conversations with your other cast mates at all costs. there was only one that you needed.

you met your friends and family by the stage door, and they congratulated you on your performance despite it being subpar. you tried to keep the conversations to the minimum. when you finally felt like you were on the verge of a full fledged breakdown, you excused yourself, telling them you were tired and needed to go home. you thanked them for coming before turning to the direction of the station and never looking back.

on your ride home, you kept your mind free of thoughts in order to keep the intrusive ones away. you knew if you kept thinking about what went wrong, you’d go crazy.

finally, at last, you arrived at your apartment and unlocked the door. mike was sitting on the couch, practically ready to doze off.

“mike, you could have gone to bed,” you said quietly.

he stared at you like that was a dumb thing to even consider. “i was waiting for you to get home.”

at that moment, you felt your heart melt. throughout everything that had happened, mike was your one constant. he was the calm within the storm of events that unfolded throughout the day.

you broke down, and began to cry. mike sat up on the couch and held out his arms. “oh, sweetheart, come here.”

you obliged, and sat down on the couch next to him. almost instinctively, you leaned into his body, resting your head on his chest. he wrapped both of his arms around you comfortingly, and he placed his hand on the side of your head. as you laid in his arms, you just cried.

“i wanted everything to be perfect today. first i got sick, then i burnt myself, then i hit my head, and then i tripped on the subway,” you swallowed, trying to talk clearly despite the tears. “a-and the one thing i could control, the one thing i could save, i fumbled. i messed up twice on stage.”

mike rubbed your head gently. “i know, Y/N, i’m sorry. i know how important this was. if it makes you feel any better, i barely noticed your mistakes.”

“i-i’m not sure how,” you said, sniffling. “they were pretty bad. i’m just…embarrassed.”

mike sat up, causing you to come with him. part of you was sad that you had to leave the comfy position you were in. mike looked into your eyes briefly before lightly placing his hands on either side of your face.

“Y/N, we’re performers. we make mistakes. trust me, there’s so many people even in our company that have made worse mistakes. take me, for example,” mike started, breaking eye contact briefly. “remember when i got my leg stuck in a chair during king of new york?”

you giggled. “y-yeah, i do. you turned so red.”

mike smiled. “there’s that signature Y/N smile again.”

you blushed, and mike used his thumbs to brush away stray tears. he removed his hands from your face and held your hands. “we all have off days. you’re the strongest person i know, and you got through today like a champ. you may not be happy with yourself, but i’m always proud of you, mistakes and all. do you understand?”

when you looked down, you noticed he was rubbing the tops of your hands with his thumbs. “yeah, mike. thank you, genuinely. if it weren’t for your help today, i probably would have exploded.”

mike grinned, and you went back to your position on the couch in his arms. to you, it felt like nothing mattered and nothing would matter ever again. all you could see in that moment was you and him.

mike laughed. “if it weren’t for me, your fingers wouldn’t be sore right now.”

#mike faist #mike faist imagine #mike faist x reader #mike faist fanfiction #mike faist riff #newsies imagine #newsies

[we-are-inevitable]

Do you have any headcannons for Race and like what are some of the differences yo unnoticed between west endsie Race vs Newsies live Race? Also I love your page so much!!! Thank you!!!

AHH THANK U SM

ok so i have not seen west endsies yet so i can’t speak on that race (though i’m sure @roideny may have some thoughts if you search through his blog), but: here are some HCs i have for livesies race!!

one of the most widely accepted hcs for mr. racer: he’s a fucking genius.

i’m talking math and science whiz, incredible with numbers, he likes them because 1) they’re concrete and never change and 2) they’re exact, meaning he doesn’t have to deal with the gray areas of essays and personal interpretations.

in canon era i like to think this is why he hangs out at Sheepshead; he’s kind of the teenage expert on probability and that, combined with luck, means he’s pretty good at gambling.

where charlie is jacks brother, race is his best friend. second in command, future leader of the Newsies of Lower Manhattan, and though he’s kind of a goofy jackass he can get scary and has a lot of respect around the lodging house.

i like to imagine he’s about three years younger than jack? so 14 to jack’s 17, and though he’s on the younger side it’s obvious he has what it takes to run the show once jack ages out of selling.

he’s a flirt, through and through. a charmer like none other

i know there’s some differences in how his names play out, but my personal perception of race is: he’s Italian and Irish! italian mom, irish dad- that’s where “antonio higgins” comes from.

i imagine that he grew up with a lot of sisters, i’m talking four or five. big families mean less food and he was hardcore struggling with his family before becoming a newsie; he was forgotten and kind of cast to the side, so when he was old enough (8 or 9), he ran away and found the newsies. i have no basis for this i just like it

he can be quite serious when he’s not just joking around!

he can’t read or write very well (another reason he thrives with numbers, because those make sense to him (i like to think race has dyslexia as well)) but he’s one of the BEST storytellers in the lodging house. running the newsies group isn’t all about strategy or leadership, he’s learned from jack; he has to have humility and show that he cares about the boys, so i like to imagine race would tell a lot of bedtime stories to the littles. sometimes him and jack both do it, but usually it’s racer to go in and make sure everyone’s good for the night

he’s incredibly responsible. you wouldn’t think so, looking at him. he gets in his fair share of scraps but he always knows when to back down and where he’s needed.

i love him so fucking much your honor i LOVE him

#racetrack higgins #newsies #livesies #ask a jac ! #newsies musical #newsies live #racetrack newsies #race newsies #jack kelly

[jilyarchive]

AUGUST AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT: MABELT

Q: Where can we find you and your stories? 

A: @mabeltothknows​, AO3

Q: How would you describe your writing style? 

A: I try to write with a light touch and get the story across, and to pepper in lots of humor where I can so it (hopefully) feels fun and fizzy and not like a slog to read. Sometimes I probably underwrite, and have to go back and make sure the things that are so clear in my head are actually coming across on the page. 

I think many people would describe much of my writing as humor/crackfic, but I really enjoy developing the emotional beats as well. My favorite things are watching how people effect change in others, and exploring incremental moments of growth over time. Maybe my style is most like those chocolate chip cookie recipes where moms hide some good-for-you broccoli in with the sugar, and there was a second half of this metaphor that focused on digestion and which I immediately regretted and will spare you.

Q: How do you come up with ideas for your writing?

A: Sometimes it feels like they just drop from the sky, fully formed, but I’m sure there’s lots of subconscious input happening that leads up to the moment I need to write it down. Others are more clearly the result of watching a TV show, or a conversation. Or sometimes I want to explore a trope but try to take it in a different direction. Death Takes a Holiday started because I wanted to write a holiday fic and also see if I could make dead!Jily fun to read.

Q: When and why did you begin writing fanfiction? 

A: Basically as soon as I knew it existed, I wanted in on the fun. Back in the old days of dial-up internet, when your family had a single computer to share, me and my AOL screen name went trolling for fansites about Newsies and Buffy the Vampire Slayer (there were probably thirty of them) and I was astounded that people could actually write their own stories about my obsessions. After devouring many of them, I decided my ideas were too important and original not to share with the world, because who doesn’t need to read a literal child’s interpretation of Buffy and Angel’s forbidden romance? In the form. Of a long poem. It was my Iliad. One thing you could say about me as a writer at that time was I definitely owned a thesaurus.

Q: What’s one thing you’d tell someone who is considering reading one of your fics? 

A: Thanks! I know there’s an abundance of good fic out there, and probably a lot of other ways you could be spending your time. 

Q: What are some of your favorite Jily tropes?

A: Enemies-to-lovers, enemies-to-friends-to-lovers. Platonic cuddling. James is Lily’s date to Petunia’s wedding. Everyone thinks they’re dating because they’re so obviously right for each other. Oblivious mutual pining. Appreciation of Lily’s emerald-green eyes and the flecks of gold in James’ hazel eyes. Lily and Sirius bond over muggle music, and James is more smitten because they’re friends. I’m sure I’ll think of more later.

Q: What do you like most about the Jily fandom?

A: I like seeing the different ways everyone interprets the same characters we’ve decided to love, and the vast array of origin stories and headcanons. I like the unexpected friendships that have grown from a kernel of a shared interest. 

Q: Pick a favourite Marauders era character. 

A: Lily.

Q: Self-promo time! List the fics that you are most proud of writing.

A:

We Have Buried the Putrid Corpse of Liberty – still entirely too tickled that people like this fic, and the continued support for it and my writing has improved my life drastically.

The Summer of Dying – I love complicated sister relationships, and getting to paint Petunia as something a little more than the Wicked Stepmother archetype Harry has to live with.

Love is the Law – I just loved writing this and flexing the angst muscles.

Q: Fic rec time! Could you recommend a few of your favourite Jily fics?

A: So I am making a concerted effort NOT to plug the same stories/authors I’m always always always gushing about on tumblr. 

Prelude to Destiny by AnEscapeFromReality – This is the fic I went searching for during the pandemic because I remembered loving it so much when I read it years ago, and so it’s also the one that brought me back to Jily. It stood out to me so much because it was the first fic I’d read where Lily was so unique and delightful. 

good crimes by flagpoles – I first read it on tumblr. I didn’t even know texting in fics was a thing at the time. I love everything by this author. 

The Next Great Adventure by @thirty2flavors​ – aka Make Me Cry in 1500 Words.

Thank you @mabeltothknows​ for letting us pick your brain and for sharing your writing with us! ❤️

#author spotlight #august author spotlight #<3 #thanks mabel!!

[bigmack2go]

(Ridiculous-)

-Things that i think the newsies would get cancelled for if it were modern era:

Crutchie

His name. He blew up in quarantine and only streamed gameplay and sat down. He only ever explained his name like,,, once or so and that was way back, the succes came slowly and so he never felt the need to explain it again. After a while some pointed out his name and i like,,, blew up! He was on the twitter trending page for a whole week! But he was only cancelled for a day or two(?) before he uploaded a video laughing tears. The mother fucker probably used it as clickbait on the preview banner pannel thingy (wtf are those called??) and in the title. I mena,,,, imagine!! “!SPEAKING UP about the recent ALLEGATIONS! (EMOTIONAL) (CW: CRYING)” and probably ant like “(real) (not fake!)(fuck clickbait)” or something. He would troll the shit out of social media for it

Ike

Probably like queerbaiting or some shit. Like he’ll go “holy shit, i’m so gay!” And people will go “I THOUGHT HE HAS A GF” and hotshot is just watching the whole thing, making fun of him for D A Y S while he’s cancled and she’s like “hOw dArE yOu bE bIsExUAl?!”

Hotshot

That exact thing i just said. Because she wasn’t including pan people, poly people and all the other sexuality’s when she was making that joke.

Race

Cheating. On Spot. (See also-> my spralbert fic) ofc he didn’t actually cheat but some people foubd and old clip of when he was still less known and didn’t know he would blow up like that and people pretend that poly people dont exist. He probably had a big thing and then he “cancelled them back” (his words not mine) or something like that.

Spot

For staying with Race even after he found out he “cheated”. People said he was only with Race for the money.

Albert

For being the person that Race “cheated” with

Jack

For saying “i wanna kiss you so bad right now” to a guy and apparently making fun of gay people with it. That shit was just like an hour or so tho at the highest.

Katherine

For her father lmao

York

Having a problematic mod. People say shit like he’s just ignoring that fact. But he legitimately just did not now. He wasn’t online for a solid two days and when he was it was to stream so he had to find out by chat, but he thought chat was joking and so one thing led to another and uh yeah. By the time hotshot called him asking why he was joking about that sort of stuff and he realised that it was true, the tag was already trending.

Romeo

Let’s be honest, the fucker prolly said something like “you’ find the right person eventually” or be like really penetrant like a Karen that refuses to acknowledge aro/ace people exist. But like for fun. Like,,, jokingly. This guy is literally aroace. It prolly went pretty much the same as for Crutchie.

Tommyboy

Cheating.(but like at a game) Come on lets be honest . This mf would have the whole dream sCaNdAl procedure and you know it. He acedentally cheated and then get death threats for it (which, just to be clear, even if dream had cheated is just— like,,, idek)

Myron

Tried to kill a pigeon once when he was like seven or something

Elmer

Being involved in a russian spying scandal or some shit. Dont even ask! The best prt is that this is the only one where the internet was being justified. Not only dod all the evidence ACTUALLY lead to him (and it wasn’t something little like cheating) butthe reason for that is that it was actually him. Now obv it wasn’t on purpose bla bla, someone put a wrong server adress or what-not idek but like,,,, it was fair for people to want to cancel him…

Buttons

Capitalism. He probably told someone they had to pay if they wanted him to make them a piece of cloth or whatever. (Obv this is exeragated. The internet is not actually that bad… mostly. And he probably did go about it a little worse and people probably didn’t actually cancel-cancel him as in like,, career threatening but yk. It was still a little ridiculous)

Davey

Defending church. He’s like “GUYS IM NOT EVEN A CHRISTIAN WTF!? Im just saying, let people believe what they wanna believe. unless that specific person uses their faith as an excuse to disrespect, discredit or discriminate you, they are not a bad person for their faith”

In case you’re wondering, this happened in the same context as-

-Jojo

Jojo told his coming-out-to-the-nuns story and how he wasn’t too scared (and some other stuff) and then people said that he was pretending the church never was problematic. (Ive never phrased a sentence to say less of what i meant than this one but im tired and i have the excuse that English isn’t my first language so gimme a break)

#newsies #headcannons #modern newsies

[propaganda-for-poets]

Bestie pls can I have some Chameron headcanons?? I'm desperate honestly it's a problem. You don't have to btw.

bestie. of course. my old newsies mutuals may have noticed that i do this thing where i enter a fandom and suddenly i can only talk about one specific ship, yeah that ship here happens to be chameron and i am always more than happy to talk about them.

let's just do some nice happy headcannons today bc a couple days ago i wrote a fic about charlie leaving welton and i've decided i officially need a break from angst, alright

IN FACT YOU KNOW WHAT let's make them post-welton !!!!!! y'know after all the poets including neil graduate and keating never gets fired as always since that is the canon ending of the movie, nothing bad happens ever.

okay so.

charlie and cameron have been rooming together since year 1, it's kinda the end of an era that they're now both supposed to move into separate apartments and they're both really sad about it but refuse to say anything

you think this wouldn't be a problem for two people who have been dating for a year and shared a dorm since they were children, so they can easily move in together, but this is charlie and cameron communication kings so obviously they're being stubborn and aren't saying anything

and they just spend their last weeks at welton all like

"yeah yeah i wonder who's gonna help you find your stuff when you're not living with me anymore,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,cause like you won't. in a few weeks you won't."

"come on stop studying and talk to me i'm bored" "well soon you won't be able to talk to me whenever you want. because i will be in a different place. like i'll no longer be around 24/7."

"you know you better treasure these last moments you get to see me. cause after we graduate who knows when you'll see me again,,,,," "okay, charlie that's a little dramatic, you're not leaving the country-" "i'll be gone, cam, very soon. forever." "you won't be-" "i mean god knows where i'll be-"

it ends up being charlie who asked (i wrote about that here !) and so we have charlie and cameron sharing an apartment :)

both of them get into harvard because,,, that's welton boys for you of course literally the entire school makes the ivy league. cameron's literally smart as shit he can make whatever school he wants and charlie,,, well charlie has a lot of money.

i'm kidding i'm kidding, charlie's no doofus and attending welton is already a good look for any university, charlie can definitely make harvard on his own if he could survive welton but y'know being filthy rich wasn't exactly a disadvantage

charlie will always show cameron off all like "my boyfriend goes to harvard you know !!!!!!!!" and cameron's like "char,,,, so do you,,,,,,,"

but y'all don't care about who goes where i'm aware of this, let's get into the apartment shenanigans

okay, sharing a dorm for years in welton definitely had its advantages because there's none of those annoying habits of someone's you only start noticing after you're under the same roof, like leaving their clothes on the floor or playing music too loudly, they're already aware of all that stuff, they don't care anymore

they do have their own rooms now, but it doesn't matter a lot because they keep just falling asleep together on the couch.

most of the time cameron will just wake up in the middle of the night and attempt to take charlie to his room but he's learned overtime that charlie will just whine and complain until he stays with him so he ends up just taking him to his own room in the first place

slowly it becomes less "cameron's room" and more "their room", the other room just kinda stays there.

cameron is a GOD TIER cook we'e been over this but somehow they only take advantage of that skill of his on really??? questionable occasions?????

like they'll order chinese from the place down the street for dinner but if cameron wakes up to find charlie in the kitchen at 3 am munching on a piece of toast he'll be like "okay let's make some onion soup."

midnight snacks are for amateurs. here we have midnight meals.

they bake together a lot, though. whenever they find time cameron will just whip out a recipe and they'll bake something together, and they'll be very couple-y and disgusting while doing it too

of course it always resorts in them making a big mess

"charlie. charie stop putting your hands in the brownie mix."

"okay, fine."

"charlie, your hand's still in there, stop it."

"or else what, what're you gonna d- WH- DID YOU JUST THROW AN EGG AT ME WHAT THE FUCK"

then they'll have to spend the entire afternoon cleaning up the kitchen

"what're you laughing about now, dalton?"

"you have flour on your cheek."

"and whose fault is that?"

"stop being annoying, you're cute right now"

"oh yeah?"

"mhm, yeah."

cameron overworks himself a lot and a lot of times charlie will get up late at night to find him still studying

he'll always go up to him like "cam, tf. it's four in the morning. come to bed."

"i just have to get this finished."

"well, okay, i'll just stay up with you until you go to sleep."

"charlie that's not healthy you need to-,,,,,,,,,,oh you're evil, dalton, threatening me with your own well-being."

"damn right i am, now go to sleep."

okay we all know charlie. we know how he is. so it's no surprise to anyone that it didn't take long for him to bring a random stray animal into the house

cameron just comes back from class to see charlie with a tiny ginger car.

"cam, you're back-"

"nope. not happening, take it back."

"hey, it is a she, and i love her now."

"no, no you don't, she's going back."

"i can't i'm attached to her! look at her! she's adorable, she's my new favorite ginger."

",,,,,, okay now she's definitely going back."

she did not go back.

charlie named her arabella and cameron insisted she was annoying and always wanted attention and wouldn't let him study

"hey, you said the exact same things about me and you love me now, give her time!"

"i don't love you right now."

"well, i love you a lot. and i love her too, she's part of the house now."

",,,,,,,god, fine, you're lucky you're my weakness. i'll tolerate her."

one time charlie returned from class to find cameron sleeping on the couch with arabella on his lap.

he never hears the end of it once he's awake

"so, how's hating her going for you, richard?"

"shut up, she's warm."

"so you no longer despise my cat? because she's warm?"

"first of all she's our cat i don't clean cat fur all over the house for her to be your cat and,,,, she's not all that bad."

#🩹 jace's hcs #i love them a lot #they're literally so stupid <3 #dps #dead poets society #i just almost tagged this dehli public school #richard cameron #charlie dalton #chameron

[retvenkos]

“how do you say ‘i love you’ in french?”

requested BUCKLE IN, FRIENDS, BECAUSE WE’RE HOPPING THROUGH REALITIES TO SEE WHAT IT WOULD BE LIKE TO BE DATING FINCH CORTEZ IN A MODERN! HIGH SCHOOL AU...

first of all, finch is on the track team and is that special kind of jock where he has jock level confidence but is also an obnoxious nerd, so he’s too dorky to be a jock™ but also far too jock-like to be anything else

it’s about the soft interior and the fake bravado, amirite?

and since he’s on the track team, you can always catch him after school, running around the school.

(my high school had a lot of stairs, so the track team was always running up and down them, going up one hall and down the next. dodging pedestrians was an added challenge, ig)

before you were dating, whenever he would run past you, he would say hi and give you the biggest smile. sometimes he’d give you a compliment (mostly about your accent in french class, because he’s terrible and the two of you share the class). once you start dating, thought, he’ll tell you the most terrible pick up line you’ve ever heard. romeo told them to him. double points if it’s in french (and you get to laugh while he slaughters the accent)

but also.... you know what dating a jock means...... you get to steal his track sweatshirts.

at some point, finch finally wises up and buys an extra one so that he doesn’t have to steal it back every time he needs to wear it the day before a match for team morale.

sometimes, though, you’ll steal both and finch will have to barter with you to give it back. a sure way is to promise that you’ll be able to choose where you go get food at lunch, because istg, every day you end up going to subway. finch is the poster boy for subway sandwiches, and no one even knows why.

there’s only so much sandwich you can take..... 

also,,,,, may i suggest to you,,,,, sitting on the bleachers of the school and watching the sun set or rise.

finch wakes up at ungodly hours in the morning, so if you’re a morning person (or if he can just convince you to go with him) you’ll stop to get coffee and bagels and you’ll just watch the sun come up, joking in bright tones, your knees touching and your smiles wide.

alternatively, you convince finch to sit on the bleachers with you and watch the sun go down while you snack on french fries or shakes, and you get to talk in hushed tones, and deal with a sleepy finch, who likes to rest his head on your shoulder.

but i figure you guys go on a lot of casual or impromptu dates. 

like, you guys are constantly going to outdoor malls, just milling about and trying on ridiculous hats and sunglasses from various stores. you guys take a lot of photos, but finch is actually really bad at composition, so the ones that turn out are always yours.

or finch will text you randomly and be like, “do you want to go to the park?” and you’ll text back, “i have history homework :(” and he’ll tell you that if you go to the park with him, he’ll tell you everything you need to know about the byzantine empire.

so canon era finch uses a slingshot, yeah? well, we all know that little finch had a slingshot in this au, but when he gets older.... finch gets really into paintball.

you guys go together on at least one (1) date, and at first your on the same team (probably against tommy boy and hot shot) and you win by a landslide. the second match tho, you’re on your own and you get hit so bad. finch is a sharpshooter and he’s fast. he’s untouchable. there was no way you were ever going to get out of there alive.

oh, but remember how i said the two of you were in french together? well, the  l a s t  thing you ever want to do is partner with him on an assignment. 

because partnered assignments usually involve presenting, right? well, finch gets the worst nerves you’ve ever seen, and most times he’ll try to skip out entirely. other times, it’s beyond his control and he has to miss class for track. either way, it spells disaster for you.

and also, finch 100% doesn’t care if you don’t partner with him for an assignment (tbh, he probably encourages that you don’t) so not choosing him is kind of the way to go.

but since it’s been a running gag that all of the newsies have english together, you clearly have this class as well and... i’m so sorry....

on the one hand, it’s a riot of fun. there’s always something happening, and finch is always holding your hand beneath the desk, rubbing his hands over your knuckles

he’ll always volunteer to read during the shakespeare unit, and half of it is so he can be the one to make all of the d*ck jokes, but it’s also so he can do the overly dramatic soliloquies that make you stifle a laugh (his favorite sound), or so he can make the teasing one liners and toss a wink your way, or even do romantic declarations of love. he can be so over the top, and it can be so endearing.

also,,,, if you two were to ever do a benedick and beatrice scene.... i’m not saying it would be iconic, but it would be iconic.

you definitely suffer a lot of teasing in this english class, but i have no doubt you can dish it out just as quickly as they serve it, and it’s one of the many reasons why finch looks at you and he’s just... starstruck.

also! i have this very important headcanon where i think the two of you walk to school or like... idk take public transit together or something. i just think it’s very important that the two of you spend time together in the mornings, listening to music together and sharing trail mix or pop-tarts in the mornings where everything is still a little misty, but the sun is coming up, and there is anticipation in each of finch’s steps.

also,,,, i know for a fact that you call him your songbird, and it’s inevitable that jack and race call the two of you ~lovebirds~ and then romeo tries his best impression at a bird call (finch is way better at them, and it only fuels the fire)

AND FLUFF ENSUES.

taglist: @lotsoffandomrecs, @neelia-thedaughtherof-athena, @catsbooksandmusic, @amortensie, @captainshazamerica // add yourself to the taglist here!

#newsies #finch cortez #finch cortes #finch cortez x reader #finch cortez x you #finch cortez headcanons #finch cortes x reader #finch cortes headcanons #finch cortes x you #reader insert #headcanons #fluff #modern au #high school au

[spaceorphan18]

Top 10 WTF Kurt outfits?

You are asking me to remember 10 of Kurt’s outfits, lol 

Let’s do some digging and see what I can find...

ETA: I decided to go through my meta and see what I dig up.  It’s more than a 10 ten, but interesting to do! 

Season 1

Pilot

Iconic because it’s one of the first things we see him in, but this is a weird outfit. 

They were trying to make him as effeminate as they could at the beginning.  The character eventually kind of changes out of this kind of thing -- but the knee-length sweaters were a staple of season 1 for sure. 

Showmance

Kurt doesn’t usually do hot pink...

The outfit is fine, it’s the fannypack that has me curious

Acafellas

What is even going on here? 

Preggers

I really don’t know if this should be included or not.  It is weird when you first see it, but I’m so used to seeing this, it seems totally normal? 

Throwdown

Ug, this isn’t a good picture of it -- but the plastic rain coat is something else.  It works! But the ensemble is crazy

Wheels

Ngl, I think nothing about this really works, and I’m glad it’s not a look that really ever comes back again

Bad Reputation

I mean this is supposed to be ridiculous, so there’s that. 

Laryngitis

Again, this is supposed to be ridiculous on him.  Though - fascinating how ultra masculine clothing look just as off as some of the other weird shit he wears.

Theatricality

Again, it’s done on purpose - but man, there are heels with that ensemble. 

Sectionals

This isn’t really wtf, though I’m curious as to the texture -- is it a vinyl jacket?  But interesting because Kurt never wears this bright red color.  And also the make-up in the last few episodes of season 1 is very caked on, to the point that Chris looks translucent and sickly.  I’ve always wondered why. 

Season 2

Audition

I mean, this is here for the joke, but I don’t think it’s that outlandish? I think he was wearing more extreme stuff in season 1, tbh. 

For one - it’s bondage gear.  For two - this is around when he starts wearing that fox tale thing.  That’s... only around in season 2, right? 

Britney/Brittany

Most notable because he’s wearing a skirt.  

Prom Queen

I have a loooot of thoughts about this now that I’m doing this project.  This one is done on purpose.  But you notice -- it’s also Kurt comes back from Dalton, where he’s spent most of his time wearing a uniform? 

Funeral

I’ve never liked these pants, not because they’re wtf, but because they don’t fit him right. 

Season 3

Purple Piano Project

So.... what’s going on here? I mean, he totally sells it, but can you imagine anyone seriously wearing this in real life? (yes, I know he wore it in NBK, it’s just in a more outlandish ensemble here) 

The First Time

I realize this is iconic, but this leopard print sweater is actually knee length.  I mean talk about layers. 

Mash-Off

Okay, this one probably wins, because even Chris commented that it looked like Princess Leia in Return of the Jedi.  But I have heard some fascinating meta around it -- how this is after The First Time, and an idication that Kurt wants to cover himself, because nakedness is sacred to him.  And now that he’s allowing himself to be touched in a very special way, he feels the need to cover himself more.  He grows out of it once he’s more comfortable with sex.  

But I would love to know the real reason the costume designer picked this. 

Again, from the same episode.  Why the equestrian look?? Somewhere @snarkyhag is making commentary about Kurt liking to ride things. ;) 

I Kissed a Girl

This is another iconic one, what you can’t really see in this still, but it’s the half-sweater! I think they were still trying to play around with Kurt and gender at this point.  I’m curious as to when they ditch his wacky outfits for good and start dressing him more masculine, because there’s definitely a shift by season 4. 

I need to bring this up.  It is a little weird, yes, but mostly I wanted to say that I had a sweater just like it (without the weird arm holes) in high school.  

Hold Onto 16

I would just like to point out he’s wearing a Newsie’s Cap with shorts. This is also the era of Kurt’s bizarre headwear.  

Yes/No

The outfit is fine, the hat is weird though -- especially since they’re inside. 

Michael

Not fully appreciated in this still -- it’s a leather onesie.  That’s insane.  

Also Michael -- Not necessarily wtf, but doesn’t it look like something Blaine would wear? 

Big Brother 

Not necessarily wtf, but it does look like Kurt’s going to a gay club and not dance practice

Props

You know - he went a good chunk of the season wearing somewhat normal things with accents of interesting fashion.  And then they put him in this.  And I have to wonder if it’s because they thought it would work on Finn/Cory, too. 

Nationals

MC Hummel and his Bitch (again with the nightclub outfits) 

Season 4

Makeover

This might be the most outlandish thing he wears in season 4, tbh. 

Wonderful

Definitely not wtf - but I just noticed because i’ve been scrolling through all my meta -- this might be the first (and only?) time Kurt wears this color. It looks totally fine here, but I don’t think yellow is Kurt’s (or Chris’s) color. (Oh, I forgot, though, this is the episode where RM was obsessed with orange and colors in that spectrum)

Again with the color scheme that Kurt never wears.  Fascinating. 

Season 5 and 6

There are a couple of interesting pants with patterns on them in season 5 that are different - but I don’t have stills, and they aren’t that weird. 

The only notable thing about season 6 is 2009 where they try to shove Kurt back into his Season 1 style, with middling success.  

You guys -- I have a TON to say about Kurt and fashion now that I’ve scrolled through the entire series.  Let me know if you want some more thoughts! 

#kurt hummel #that's how s.o. sees it #kurt and fashion

[willowistic22]

Famous!newsies

Ok so here are my famous!newsies headcanons from an a modern au i thought of if newsies were celebrities/famous yknow bcs I couldn’t get this idea out of my head and idk what to do with it other than making a headcanon list nabsnzbsvsnsbz anyways hope yall validate me after not posting any original content for like…. awhile now hehe

btw it got longer than expected. And I mean r e a l l y long. So if yall wanna read this better sit down and buckle up! 

Jack

He’s an artist on youtube

Like a modern day bob ross ig??

If yall know zhc on youtube just imagine that but not so rich (I don’t watch zhc btw but i do know that he does custom art on iphones and stuff and that is definitely not jack kelly)

Anyways Jack simply goes by Jack Kelly.

So jack does art challenges. Like does the weirdest requests from his fans left in his comment section and stuff

Or maybe challenging himself to make art from a specific theme or a specific media

Sometimes he vlogs too but his art videos are what his fans like the most

His merch is amazing because he designed the pattern/drawing/whatever yknow. It’s printed/sewed/whatever on the clothing and it’s good quality. It’s pretty lowkey for a youtuber’s merch bcs jack doesn’t like those merch that just smacks his logo on a hoodie

Davey

He’s a fantasy, YA, romance writer (he mixes it wisely ok?)

And goes by David Jacobs

Listen he’s a hopeless romantic and i’m pretty sure yall agree too

He wanted to stick to YA romance. The classic high school lovers yknow

But he wanted to challenge himself since he’s been writing about high school lovers since he was in high school

Thus the fantasy genre came in mind

So yeah he likes creating love in his own universe

Whether it’d be different worlds, universe, species, time periods, whatever.

He wanted to direct the movies based on his books, but he’s actually lowkey terrible at leading on his own. But he did stick to being the script writer and co-director (look idk how it works in the film industry i’m just making shit up)

Crutchie

He’s a solo jazz singer

Crutchie gives off Michael Buble and Jason Mraz vibes tho

And maybe a bit of frank sinatra? Yknow ‘cause he sings jazz

Also he riffs thank you very much :)

He goes by Crutchie Morris to everyone

He usually plays the acoustic guitar or piano on stage

Ok but he’s like really good with the piano

Makes the best jokes on stage too. Some are just sarcastic comments.

Crutchie asking through the microphone : “Oh, straight?”

A fan he’s talking to from the crowd : “Uhh… no, gay”

Crutchie : “no not you, the vodka”

Everyone at the concert : *laughs*

Crutchie, jokingly : “Oh, you’re drinking vodka! Straight? No gay”

(yes that was indeed inspired by that one video of Harry Styles and a fan in one of his concerts yall can’t stop me)

Kathrine

She’s a crime mystery writer

Think like the modern day Agatha Christie

Okok but she goes by Kathrine Plumber on her books :D

She chooses that genre bcs she’s a huge fan of Agatha Christie

Her favorite book from Agatha is Murder on the Orient Express

Oh and her books are sometime very gruesome alkjsfhakjsfb

Nobody check her browsing history, she’ll look like a murderer

Ok but I feel like she also has a youtube channel about books and stuff and sometimes like to vlog

She also has a writing tips series on her channel where she shares tips on some of the frequently asked questions about writing or her fans leave a specific question in the comment section and thought she could expand more to it in a full length video

Also she likes to vlog while she’s in a book convention

Her books are also turned into movies and she has done a great job directing it

Race

Yall would be lying to me if you don’t think this kid would end up being a twitch streamer and youtuber (like vlogging yknow. I feel like his gaming stuff would strictly be on twitch)

And ik it’s widely agreed by everyone in the fandom that he’s a dancer of some sort so yeah he’s also simultaneously a dancer

I don’t think I need to explain any further bcs it’s just so in character

He goes by Racetrack Higgins

Ok so he likes to vlog on his youtube channel

Sometimes does stupid challenges

Maybe he’d drag Albert to do a challenge which he always says no

“I’ll just be your cameraman dude, dw”

Race : *angery*

Since Al and Smalls are the skateboard peeps™ race is the rollerblade dude™ bcs I say so

He has three cats named Racecat Higgins, Spot Clawlon, and Romeow (i’ve mentioned it before and I will mention it again hehe) and his fans loves them endlessly

Albert

You don’t think this kid would also end up being a twitch streamer and youtuber like his bestie up there?? Lmao you thought wrong (again, gaming is strictly on his twitch)

He just goes by Albert DaSilva on the internet

And yes he’s also a dancer because I say so

On his Youtube channel he also vlogs

Half of his vlogs starts with him riding his skateboard

“Hey, guys! Welcome back to another vlog-” *falls off his skateboard for not paying attention to a curb*

It happens way more often than he’d like to admit let’s be real. His fans make a compilation of it and memes on reddit

Always wear a snapback

Snapbacks are an important element to him so his merch store is really boosting his snapbacks

And just for the wormsie discord server he has one with the word ranga on it after it being born from a stupid inside joke he, race, and both of their fanbases combined share (@ my wormsie fam thank me later)

Oh yeah, his youtube besties are Race and Smalls just so we’re clear here :) (I’ll get to Smalls in a bit)

So I always headcanon Albert having two big dobermans. So his fans always want to see a doggy update because Zara and Zoey are everything to them.

Doggo vlogs are fun. It’s usually Albert taking the two good girls to Central Park for playtime or teaching them new tricks

Spot

He’s a solo rock singer

Is an amazing singer like wow none of the newsies expected him to have that sort of pipes to reach high notes

And he does it amazingly with no sweat

Also his instrument is the electric guitar to go with his amazing singing ajsfhasjfhajhf

Anyways he goes by Spot Conlon still

And his songs are very lyrical. Like very.

A lot of metaphors. No one knows what most of his songs means.

So basically Taylor Swift songs if it switched genres to rock. And not even like songs from speak now or red. But like if evermore and folklore songs were to turn into rock songs with a little bit of reputation vibes sprinkled on top. And his concerts has the reputation era vibes but make it spot conlon (hey non swiftie fans reading this i’m so sorry i’m pretty sure yall don’t understand wtf i’m talking abt)

That is also the only way i know to describe his vibe i’m sorry but i don’t really listen to a lot of rock alkjhfasjk

Anyways it’s a known fact that he wears tank tops daily that it becomes his signature look. And also an inside joke among his fanbase

Now just picture the merch booth from one of his shows and there’s like endless tank top designs for his fans to pick and choose

He’s also crowned to be the King of Brooklyn bcs of obvious reasons

But the joke is he’s a pretty tough hardcore guy that’s a cat person

Sarah

She’s a badass female solo singer

Mostly does pop but the badass type of pop

Yes, she does go by Sarah Jacobs

Fans were really surprised Davey and Sarah are related

Because one is a hopeless romantic while the other is a total badass

Anyways she gives off Little mix, Ariana Grande, Taylor Swift, and Selena Gomez vibes

That is literally the only way I can describe it

She’s very lyrical, with a lot of metaphors

When she dances on stage, she d a n c e s

All while holding a mic to sing. And she hits all those high notes like it’s no ones business (a literal queen i tell you)

She and Spot are besties and has been known to have done a few collabs together

Their fans were hesitant about their collabs since their genre is pretty different from the other but they make it work and it slAPS

And among all her boppy songs with full choreography and backup singers, she always have a few songs she sings while only being accompanied by piano or guitar (Either electric or acoustic) which she plays on her own

Finch

He’s an indie pop artist with his trusted acoustic guitar by his side

Just think of music by Wallows and Lewis Capaldi were to be blended in together and Conan Gray for the cherry on top

But it has a little bit of Ed sheeran, Lorde, and Lauv vibes to it too

His concerts are simple but his songs are mostly very boppy so his fans still have fun either way

And it’s usually in small venues but there are times where he had a concert in a huge stadium

He goes by FINCH (yeah all caps btw)

Finches are a very on brand thing for him obviously

Has been known to collab with Crutchie and they actually make a very good team

Somehow was able to combined both genres to produce a few boppy songs

Ok ok but Finch and Crutchie have made a collaborative album (and maybe they went on tour????)

Specs 

He’s a history fiction writer

Yes this is inspired by the fact that he’s 100% a history nerd (no one change my mind i love this headcanon aight)

And he explores a lot of different histories from different parts of the world

He actually helps a lot of students understand history even further for school through his novels

Anyways he goes by Specs because I say so

No one knows why that’s his pseudonym and Specs isn’t interested in explaining either. No one other than the newsies need to know it was born from a stupid nickname the newsies gave him :)

His research mostly comes from history books because of his genre which wouldn’t be a problem since he has loads and will voluntarily buy more if needed

Also yeah he makes a great director for the movies taken from his books

Mush

He’s a chef on youtube

Goes by Mush Meyers

So think if Gordon Ramsey and his youtube channel but make it mush

Yeah that’s it really

Ok but Mush is a jolly and friendly person

Other than just food vlogging he does cooking challenges and cooking tips too

Sometimes he does the cooking challenges with a friend (mostly henry but i’ll get to him later on in the list)

But he also vlogs his life

Which isn’t really often but he likes to sometimes

He’s that big of a foodie he has a food blog too

And also a seafood restaurant so that’s cool :D

Henry

Like Mush, he’s a chef on youtube

Goes by Henry on the internet and in general

Ajkfhajfjska I’m thinking about how ppl would address him as Chef Henry kajhfkjlashfjklasfjklsf

He mostly does the same thing like Mush actually

Food vlogging and cooking challenges (they do it together so) sometimes cooking tips

But Henry vlogs his life a lot

And instead of a food instagram he has a food blog

He has a sandwich restaurant

Yeah it is inspired by his pastrami on rye with a sour pickle line from KONY get mad about it why don’t ya (well if i’m not mistaken henry was the one that said it but idk i have horrible memory) 

Blink

He’s a youtuber

Ok so I have a specific headcanon that Blink majored in psychology but didn’t end up being a psychologist

So instead he becomes a psychologist on youtube

Who often vlogs jhgasjlfhs

The guy looks like he could cut you but his sense of humor once you get him talking is just *chef’s kiss* amazing

Which is why he also has a podcast because he’s also secretly great at talking

He just thinks mental health is very important, okay?

Romeo

He’s an actor

Mostly on Broadway but has worked with Hollywood before

He’s usually a supporting character but has been known to understudy for main characters

Ok ik these bullet points are getting shorter and shorter but these are mostly bcs some of these stuff are pretty self explanatory since it’s very in character

Like are you telling me a kid named Romeo isn’t gonna be in some way very dramatic and end up turning that personality trait into his career?? Plus he’s very good at that?

Yeah you’re lying to me

Also he’s a pretty frequent vlogger on youtube

Look he’s a fun guy, what did you expect?

Just goes by Romeo on youtube

Elmer

He’s an actor

Has done his fair share in Broadway and Hollywood but started in Broadway

He can dance but thinks he’s pretty average in it yknow

Which his fans has no idea what he’s talking about because on stage he can do flips and turns like it’s no ones business yknow

But he can sing really good and takes pride in it

Elmer would play characters that is really far off from his own personality that fans couldn’t believe that Elmer played that character

He has done his fair share in main characters and supporting characters on Broadway

In Hollywood he usually does indie and rom-com movies

Buttons

He’s a fashion youtuber and basically an influencer 

Let’s be real this boy is a fashion icon

He’s not really a model but more like a fashion influencer and also kind of a fashion designer

His clothing line is very *chefs kiss* amazing

He designed it all and sometimes likes to design for his friends as well

He also does fashion tips on his youtube channel

His instagram game is god tier level (along with Tommy Boy and Sniper I’ll get to them in a bit) 

But yeah he also vlogs

And goes by Buttons Davenport

Jojo

He’s an actor

Mostly on Broadway but has done a few movies in Hollywood

He radiates main character energy and he does become the main character most of the time (on hollywood at least)

On Broadway he mostly enjoys being apart of the ensemble because this boy loves dancing

But he does play a few supporting characters

He has released one or two albums too because his singing is top tier

But isn’t interested in doing a lot of live concerts with his albums

Since no one has the time to say Josephino Jorgelino De La Guerra he turned it into Jojo De La Guerra (so much for ‘a special nickname only for friends and family’)

Mike and Ike

They’re a pop boy band and bcs of my lack of creativity it’s called Mike and Ike

At the start of their career :

“My name goes first because I’m older than you!” - Mike

“You’re only older than me by 13 minutes, holy shit!” - Ike

But Ike slowly accepts the fact that it’ll be like this yknow

Anyways they’re pretty great singers

They have one direction and new hope club vibes

Tho unlike one direction they can dance (i love the boys alright but i really think it’s funny that they can’t dancelkhjjlh)

They like to switch from the guitar (electric and/or acoustic) to the piano

The amount of times their name is confused by the candy is too many 

But they like it like that lol

Anyways i’ve mentioned a headcanon where Mike has tattoos (not like from head to toe but it’s fairly noticeable to everyone) and Ike has piercings

So the only way their fans tell them apart is by that

But there are times where Mike has his tattoos covered or Ike took his piercings off in public alone. A fan mistakens them for the other twin but they still respond to the other name because they don’t feel like there’s a need to correct them since they’re mostly known by Mike and Ike anyways. When the fan posts it on instagram and tags the twin they thought it was the twin that was tagged would comment “wrong twin but nice pic you two”

Happens wayyyyy too many times. Their fans are officially scared to approach one of the two in public alone without their differentiating indicators on which is which

And yes it is widely known that they argue a lot when it comes to writing songs

Nothing out of the ordinary sibling squabble yknow but it’s a lot

But they do end up finding a solution to the topic of their argument and make a good team at the end of the day

Hotshot

He’s an actor

On Broadway, he’s one of those actor’s that is mostly good in just the acting and singing

He can’t dance to save his life sjdfghaf

So Jeremy Jordan yknow asj;oghajshf

No not really. He can dance a little bit

So he’s mostly the main character

But he’s widely known for his works in Hollywood

He does a lot of drama. Think stuff like Elite and Designated Survivor. Yeah those kinds of heavy drama (well idk i think those two are pretty heavy)

He wants to release his own music because he’s a pretty good singer but he can’t write songs to save his life either jgnjafjasf

And all the demo songs he was suggested by producers isn’t his cup of tea

So he’s no singer ladies and gents ://

The name Hotshot is used to name his social media platforms. He always adds a description in his bio’s that Hotshot is a nickname his friends and family use so his fans and the media refer to him with his name

I headcanon Hotshot’s real name is Tyler or some sort. No don’t ask me what’s his last name is because idk either lol

Sniper

She’s a model, beauty and fashion youtuber (I’m pretty sure those are two different things tho idk i don’t watch youtube religiously anymore), and just an influencer in general

Instagram game on p o i n t

I know most beauty youtubers go by their names but uhh… i don’t think i’ve ever thought of a first name for Sniper but I really think she really would just go by Sniper Wah on the internet (Idk she seems like an Ashley in my head but feel free to recommend headcanon names to me)

Anyways she’s very fashionable

Tommy Boy (i’ll get to him just wait aight?) and Buttons are her fashion besties

The three of them pretty much appear in each other’s Youtube video not Tommy’s tho bcs he doesn’t have one lol

Sniper’s brand are huge sun hats

I have no idea how or why but that girl has sun hats vibes I can’t explain any further I’m sorry

Doesn’t have a clothing line but does have a make up brand of her own. She calls it Sniper. Yeah that’s it akjfhjf

Smalls

She’s a twitch streamer and youtuber like race and albert

They’re a youtube trio everyone loves it

And yes she does go by Smalls

Oh and she also dances like her two stupid besties thanks for asking

Bubblegum is her brand (idk how to explain she just has the vibe)

She is skateboard chick

I’m imagining a video collab of her and Al on a skatepark doing stupid challenges

It’s her most viewed video

Tommy Boy

Ok ok he’s a model, influencer, and dancer

So think a male version of Gigi Hadid that dances

No he doesn’t have a youtube channel but frequently has made an appearance on Buttons’ and Sniper’s videos

Yes his instagram feed is also very amazing

He goes by Tommy Boy

People genuinely thinking ‘Boy’ is actually his last name and kinda think it’s strange but doesn’t complain

Tommy literally didn’t think people would think it was his last name. But they did anyways

Les

Let’s just get straight to the point : he’s a famous tiktoker 

And yes, ppl are surprised at the fact that him, Davey, and Sarah are related to each other 

To the people that made it through this entire list. Congratulations and thank you for your validation. Have a wonderful evening and stay hydrated 

i will write at least one oneshot out of this au i promise!!

#newsies #newsies headcanons #random writing #jack kelly #davey jacobs #crutchie morris #katherine pulitzer #racetrack higgins #albert dasilva #spot conlon #sarah jacobs #finch cortez #specs newsies #mush newsies #henry newsies #kid blink #romeo newsies #elmer kasprzak #buttons davenport #jojo de la guerra #mike and ike newsies #hotshot newsies #sniper newsies #smalls newsies #tommy boy newsies #les jacobs #writing these tags makes me realize how many newsies are there #and there are actually still more oh god- #tw cursing #tw alcohol mentions

[violetwolfraven]

Hey :)

So, I know I just left a request already but the thing is that there's definitely not enough Blush in the Newsies Fandom, and therefore I wanted to ask for 10 ("Who are you?") for Blush in the canon era. Either some getting-to-know each other, or maybe (to make it more angsty) some kind of temporary amnesia thing or that maybe Blink's other eye slowly stops working? (At this point I'm just rambling, but I hope that's something to work with; I really like your writing)

Thank you! You’re right that we need more blush in this fandom, especially since like 80% of us see them as canon. I’m gonna go the kinda flangst route with this!

Sorry this took so long, but I struggled with and scrapped like 6 different ideas before coming up with something I felt good about. This takes place about a year before the strike.

Tw: referenced parent death, implied period-typical homophobia, referenced past child abuse.

...

Mush was woken up by a loud thud, like something hitting the floor.

He was very confused about what was going on until he looked down and saw Blink on the floor.

He was just sitting there, not quite upright, like he’d fallen out of bed and was too disoriented by getting woken up suddenly to move.

“Blink?”

He didn’t respond, and Mush was starting to wonder if he was really awake at all, or if he was... what, sleepwalking?

Honestly, Mush was starting to question if he was even awake. None of the others were, and that thud of Blink hitting the ground had been pretty loud.

Dream or not, he dropped down from his bunk, careful to land quietly next to his sweetheart.

It seemed like none of the others had been disturbed, which was probably a good thing. They all needed the rest. Jack and Crutchie were up sleeping on the roof like they always did in the summers and others all were still asleep.

“Blink?” Mush whispered.

He just kept staring at the ground, dazed, like he didn’t even hear him.

“Blink, are you okay?”

Blink flinched backward, instinctively raising his arms to shield his face, and Mush froze with his hand halfway between them.

Nightmare. It had to be.

What was it that Jack did when things like this happened?

Mush didn’t know, but he knew he had to do something. He did know something that might get Blink’s attention and snap him out of it. Something none of the others knew.

“Louis.”

Blink’s good eye snapped to attention, but not in a good way.

Mush felt a chill at how he wasn’t looking at him so much as through him.

“Who are you?”

His voice was haunted. Hollow, not even a hint of recognition there.

God, if this was what always happened when he had nightmares, Mush had no idea how Jack could ever calm him down.

He was going to try, anyway.

“It’s me,” Mush said, trying to keep his voice calm, “Mush Meyers. Your... your best friend. Ya don’t know me?”

Blink shook his head rapidly, curling in on himself like he was expecting a blow, “No. No. I’m sorry. No.”

That wasn’t good. Blink never apologized. If he was sorry for something, he let you know in more tangible ways. Actions over words.

Much needed to ground him. Now. He didn’t really know how, but... if Blink didn’t remember him, he guessed he should..?

“Do ya remember when you and me first met?” he asked, “We was 9 years old. My mom and pop had just died. I was friends with Jack, Crutchie, and Specs already, so they’d told me I could come here if anythin’ ever happened. I saw ya for the first time sitting out on the fire escape when Specs was introducin’ me to everybody. He told me not to bother ya, so we didn’t talk for a while.”

Mush paused, watching Blink’s face carefully for any sign of recognition.

He was still just staring into space, but he looked more confused than blank now, so Mush kept going.

“Everybody was upset cause Jack was in the Refuge for the first time and we was all worried, but it hit you hard cause you were alone. The others were all grouped up to support each other, but they was all avoidin’ you cause ya scared ‘em. You get defensive when you’re scared, so’s nobody can hurt ya.”

Still no real recognition, but Blink was at least looking more responsive to what he was saying.

“I offered to be your sellin’ partner after a couple days, cause I didn’t see what everybody was so scared of,” Mush recalled, “Not till you a gave me this look like you were gonna gut me in an alleyway. But I sold with ya anyway, and I kept sellin’ with ya even after Jack broke out and everythin’ got normal ‘round here. Best choice I ever made, to stick it out with you.”

Blink smiled distantly, barely, but it was there.

“Yeah, Blink, I wouldn’t be the person I am today if I hadn’t met you,” he continued, “I definitely wouldn’t know how to read people as well as I do. Remember when we were 12 and the Delanceys jumped me behind Jacobi’s? You seemed so angry while you patched me up, but I knew it was just cause you was worried.”

He was relaxing a little bit, his body language no longer wracked with fear.

Mush risked a glance around the room, just making sure that all the others were still asleep.

“You wouldn’t tell me I was your best friend until we were 11,” he said quietly, “Too damn stubborn. Ya don’t bury all your feelings like some people, but ya also never say it if you’re scared or sad or care about someone.”

Making sure it was clear what he was doing beforehand, Mush scooted a little closer to whisper to him.

“That’s why it was such a surprise when ya told me you had feelings for me last month. Asked to be a thing. You said—“

“You’re the only one what sees the good in everyone,” Blink mumbled, cutting him off, “Even people who hide it on purpose.”

He met Mush’s eyes, and it was obvious that Blink was now a lot more present in there.

“I’d be a fool to let that slip away.”

Mush hesitated, then held out an arm, knowing Blink wouldn’t take that offer if he wasn’t ready to be touched.

To his surprise, Blink went to him without hesitation, the tension leaving his body in one breath as he tucked his head against Mush’s shoulder and let himself be hugged.

He was covered in sweat, and Mush could practically feel the exhaustion radiating off him. Whatever that had been, whatever nightmare had triggered it, had clearly taken a lot out of him.

“Did I scare ya?” Blink asked quietly, after a minute of just sitting there on the floor in silence.

“No. Worried me a bit, though.”

He wasn’t lying. Mush had never been afraid of Blink. He’d been able to see why others were, with that fierce, cynical air he put up in self defense, but Mush didn’t really fear anyone, honestly, since he’d gotten good at understanding people. If you understood why someone was doing what they were doing, you didn’t have to fear even the people you hated or were angry with.

Blink, specifically, had never scared him because he’d been able to tell from pretty close to the beginning that Blink didn’t want to hurt anyone. He just acted like he did so that he wouldn’t get hurt himself.

He’d wondered why before. This was making him wonder again, but he wasn’t sure if it was okay to ask.

A part of him was scared of the answer, remembering how Blink had flinched when he tried to touch him before. He hoped he was wrong.

Blink seemed to guess where his thoughts were going and he sighed bitterly, moving up onto the bed and pulling Mush up with him.

“The nightmares are a nice little souvenir from Mom and Dad,” he admitted softly, “They’re... I don’t have them so much as I used to anymore, but... how did ya think I lost my eye?”

So Mush was right. He hated that he was, but... well, he couldn’t say he’d never guessed this before.

“That’s why ya got so weird whenever I brought up missin’ my folks way back when. You didn’t get it cause you didn’t miss yours.”

Blink nodded, “I ran away when I was 7. Wound up here. My folks came lookin’ for me a couple times, but Manhattan’s leader at the time turned ‘em away at the door. Good thing. I’d probably be dead if he’d let them take me.”

Mush didn’t want to think about a world where that happened, “Jack wouldn’ta let him.”

He smiled, “Probably not.”

That smile faded a little too quickly, but Mush didn’t know what to say to fix it.

He could barely see Blink in what moonlight was coming in through the window, but he reached over to push his hair off his face anyway, careful to come at him from the side with his working eye.

Blink leaned his face into the touch with a deep breath.

“Wish I hadn’t wasted so much time back then, assumin’ everyone was out to hurt me. I’da become friends with you a lot faster if I hadn’t.”

“I did think you was a bit of a dick when we first met,” Mush admitted, “But hey, whatever ya have to do to feel safe.”

Blink shrugged, “Well, you feel safest when you’re surrounded by people ya trust and it works out alright for you.”

Usually it did. Mush always tried to be as kind as he could afford to be, and that meant he had friends everywhere.

Blink had a tendency, almost an instinct, even today at age 15 to make people want to avoid him.

It was kind of funny how the few friends they’d told about their relationship hadn’t been surprised at all, despite how different they were. Sun and moon. Practically direct opposites.

“I’d rather you act like an asshole than end up dead. You mean a lot to me, Blink.”

“You mean a lot to me, too, Mush.”

Mush took the awkward silence that followed that as a signal to give him one last smile and climb up to his bunk, but Blink grabbed his wrist at the last second to stop him.

“Stay down here?”

He didn’t have to answer out loud for them to curl up together, cuddling on that bottom bunk.

#newsies #blush newsies #blush #kid blink newsies #mush newsies #mush meyers #hurt/comfort #angst #angst with a happy ending #canon era #parent death tw #past child abuse tw #abusive parents tw #violet’s writing

[dolokhoded]

more canon era because brain go brr, one day all the newsies got back from selling and Tommy Boy was just there sitting on a bunk. Nobody knows where tf he came from, he just showed up

HSJAJSJAJJT PLZ THIS IT TOO FUNNY TO ME-

tommy boy my love owner of my heart <3

deadass no one has no idea where the fuck tommy boy even came from, they're not sure he knows where he came from, they don't usually push newsies when they don't wanna talk about how they ended up as newsies cause sometimes they might have trauma from their background or just don't need people to know but tommy genuinely seemed like he popped out of thin air he just-

"okay, what the fuck, who are you"

"im tommy"

"i- why are you here. where did you even come from?"

"uh idk man i just,,, i just am"

",,,,,,,,,, "

"u wanna see my pet rat?"

#TOMMY BOY i love him sm #need more tommy boy content #newsies hcs #newsies #tommy boy newsies #asks

[livesincerely]

wait oh my god i’m going through old newsies stuff and came across that one post with davey as a brooklyn newsie!! got anymore thoughts on that?

Dude, I totally forgot about this!!!! I never got into the nitty gritty of planning it out—I must’ve gotten distracted by a different idea—but I can absolutely give you some of my thoughts and general Vibes.

So.

Canon era (obvs) with a POV that bounces back and forth between Jack and Davey. With maybe an interlude from Spot bc I think he’d have some hilariously dry commentary on the situation.

Background set up: Davey and Spot meet each other before Davey becomes a Newsie. I’m imagining Davey coming across Spot in some kind of bind and helping him out, no questions asked, not wanting anything, just because he’s kind. But Spot can’t let that stand, doesn’t want to be in anyone’s debt—“It’s not a debt if no ones collecting,” Davey insists, exasperated. Spot pretends not to hear him.—so he’s like, hey, if you ever need a favor, come down to the docks and ask for Spot Conlon. So, when Davey needs work, he goes to the Brooklyn Newsies instead of Manhattan

I’m also imagining that this version of Davey is leading a rougher life than canon Davey. His family is less well off and he makes the decision to stop going to school and start working several months before Mayer gets hurt, so he’s already been selling for a while when the canon timeline starts.

I love the idea of Jack and Davey meeting for the first time because they’re both trying to sell in the same spot.

“You can’t be sellin’ here!” Jack sputters. “This is Manhattan territory.” The other boy looks thoroughly unimpressed. “We’re standing in front of the Brooklyn Bridge,” he says, placing special emphasis on Brooklyn. “Yeah, the Manhattan side of the bridge,” Jack counters in the exact same tone of voice. “So you need to walk it back across the river, pal.” “I’ve been sellin’ here for weeks and no one’s said anything,” the other boy says with a frown. “Maybe you should be keeping a closer eye on your terf if you don’t want someone to take advantage of the opportunities you’re letting go to waste.”

And as far as first meetings go it could’ve gone smoother, sure, but it’s Jack and Davey and there’s that undercurrent of flirty tension right from the get go. Because Jack’s never met a situation he couldn’t charm his way out of but this boy with the dark hair and steady voice and killer blue eyes is just not buying it—always has a counter argument or a smart ass comment up his sleeve—and something in Jack’s brain just perks up goes... huh, interesting. And Davey’s heard of the infamous Jack Kelly and he thinks he knows what to expect from him, but Jack is so much more and so much less than the stories make him out to be. And he’s got those dark eyes and that playful smile and they’ve just met but he somehow manages to look at Davey like there’s nothing else in the world he’d rather be doing.

They’re both smitten right from the start but refuse to admit it. And everyone can see it.

“Who does he think he is, sellin’ outside his turf?” Jack continues, pacing back and forth. “Just setting’ up wherever he likes, bold as ya please, and he thinks no one’s gonna say nothin’ to him? He thinks no one’s gonna call him out?” Crutchie frowns. “Racetrack sells in Sheepshead almost every day—” “That ain’t the same thing,” Jack blusters, feeling the back of neck start to heat up.

Something something, they have a few more pre-strike encounters, then maybe the strike as told through these circumstances? Idk, like I said, these are just Vibes✨

Working title: ‘love at first sight’s for suckers’

00000

@reef-carnegie

#newsies #javid #Brooklyn Davey au #*ask #*editor's note #😊😊😊😊 #thanks for reminding me about this! #blessings on your house 💕

[thelittleredheadedmusician]

you were shunned and burned your cradle

Newsies Gen PG 4,365 words AO3 Living in New York isn't easy for a boy on his own. It's worse for Crutchie between his leg and the air itself trying to poison him. But things really can only go up.  For @i-got-personality as part of @newsies-secret-santa! You said you like Crutchie, canon era, and any kind of magic and well I hope that you like this!

Being a changeling in New York City hurts. It makes his skin itch and his lungs burn and his eyes water. From the iron that surrounds him, fills the very air along with the smoke. If he’s not careful when he reaches out or brushes against something his skin comes away with a sharp, searing scar.

Being a changeling hurts in a different way too. Knowing that, for whatever reason, his mother gave him up. That a human baby was far preferable to him and so he was left in some other child’s crib. To make matters worse, he was given up twice. That hurt even more.

On his crueler days, the ones filled with self-loathing, he blames himself. That it was some personal failing, his bum leg perhaps, that made his mother exchange him. That the same failing is why the woman who believed herself his mother threw him out onto the street. Logically, he knows this isn’t the case. For one, he remembers what happened to his leg and it involved an iron poker that proved to his mother he wasn’t really hers as fear burned in her eyes.

Being a changeling in New York hurts and it’s hard too. Trying to grow, to thrive, in a city that was made in opposition to your very nature. It’s even harder when you’re just a kid. When you’re living on the streets. His first few nights are the worst. He’s cold and hungry and tired and he hurts. Oh does he hurt.

Being a changeling is no walk in the park, though ironically walks in the park help some. Help a lot. Until he tires. But being a changeling in a city as big as New York means you’re not alone. Well, you’re never alone but there’s others too. If you know how to spot them.

He’s been sleeping in doorways and sneaking food from market stalls – but not begging, whether an innate part of being a one of the Folk or an innate part of himself he did not want or need anyone’s pity – for a few weeks when he sees her. She’s tall, very tall and with the tatters her skirts are in he’s able to see the pale pink of her calves from knee to muddy leather boots. It’s not a normal pink, not like the glimpses of his own cold cheeks in shop windows, but the dusty pink of a rose. Her fingers are the same color as she waves and calls, catching passersby’s eye and gesturing to the basket of flowers on her arm. The violets match her thick, plated hair and the bluebells her bright, solid-colored eyes.

He stops, shocked on the other side of the street, when he sees her. A cart and then trolley pass between them and still he can’t tear his gaze away. She’s smiling at him once the street is clear, wide and kind. The light almost sparks off her pointed teeth. She winks and crooks a long, thin finger to him. He crosses without another thought, barely managing to remember how to even walk before he’s in front of her.

“Hello little one,” she coos, tilting his chin up so he can meet her gaze. Her pink fingers then trail through his hair, straightening it, before running down to brush over his shoulders and tug lightly at his vest. This close he sees that she has small white flowers woven into the braid of her purple hair. They look like stars in a twilight sky and he’s fairly certain they sparkle too.

“Hello, miss,” he manages to reply.

Her grin sharpens. “You’re a polite young man. And that smile! Sweeter than stolen cream.”

At those words he can’t help but preen. “Thank you, miss. I quite like your hair myself. I’ve-” he stumbles, tightening his grip on the crutch under his arm, “I’ve never seen hair that color.”

Eyes widening, she straightens. “My, you’ve not met one of your own before, have you?”

“No, miss,” he shakes his head, hair flopping into his eyes. He reaches up to brush it back but she’s faster. Brushing it away with her rosy fingers again.

“But you know our ways?” She says it like a question but the flash of her eyes makes it a challenge.

He straightens, feeling so proud it borders on smug. “Never give your true name, always be polite, and nothing is a gift.”

Her head tilts and he honestly can’t tell if she’s thrilled or disappointed. Though they both know it’s not all the ways of the Folk, just the important ones. The ones the humans know in order not to err on their bad side. But for a changeling like him, it’s a good start and all true. That’s another thing he knows, the Folk cannot lie.

“Very good little one. You may know, but I doubt you have much practice. Let us strike a bargain, shall we?” Again, her head tilts and more than her long limbs or resemblance to a garden or sunset, this looks the oddest to him. Sets her apart from the humans still buffeting them on the busy street.

“Only be it fair and true,” he replies on instinct. Because, there’s nowhere else it could have possibly sprung from.

Pride and amusement has her spine straightening as she nods. “My proposition is thus; you give me the two buttons from your vest and I shall weave you a crown that will never wilt. That will remind you of who you are.”

He has to think about it, faerie bargains are notoriously tricks meant to cheat the person hapless enough to make one. There are normally catches and clauses. There are twists and double meanings and you always, always lose more than you gain. Yet, this seems simple. Straightforward. And it would be rude to say no.

“A trinket for a trinket,” he says, stalling.

She inclines her head. “A mortal trinket for a faerie trinket. A piece of a life that was and will be again.”

His heart and mind catch on that last bit but to puzzle it out could take all day and he’s getting hungry. He was trying to find food when he saw her in the first place. It’s a risk, but a benign one. “My two buttons for a flower crown woven by you that will never wilt.”

Again, her smile is sharp. But her knife his sharper as she leans forward and cuts the buttons from his vest, hand moving quickly to cup them before they can do more than fall from the fabric. She slips them into the folds of her skirt, her knife disappearing too. Just as quickly she begins to pluck flowers from her basket with her too long, stick thin fingers and begins to weave them into a crown and in a blink it’s on his head.

“May you wear it in good health,” she says and it’s a blessing he didn’t bargain for. His stomach twists and he nods; remembering not to thank her at the last moment. She flashes one last grin as she turns away, her skirts flaring out, and walks down the sidewalk.

He manages to not lose his flower crown as he falls in with a group of satyrs living in Battery Park, though he leaves after a few weeks when he learns the fish they always have for dinner comes straight from the aquarium in the castle. He goes back to sleeping in doorways and on fire escapes after that. He’s hungry all the time but he can never be sure if it’s his nature or his circumstances that cause it.

Eventually, his clothes become too thin and short, showing off his wrists and legs and strips of his stomach. Sleeping on fire escapes has a new bite as the fabric begins to cover less and less and more and more of his skin is exposed to the iron. The worst is how tight his boots have become, pinching and squeezing at his toes. He refuses to go barefoot though, not because of the cold but because it reminds him too much of the others. The women who walk on the breeze and become one with the trees. The men who blink at him before disappearing into shadows and around corners. The beings and creatures who pinch and poke and trick and steal and cackle and dance, dance, dance in between the oblivious crowds.

He finally manages to trade with an immigrant family from the Lower East Side, not feeling sad to hand over the last items his mother gave him in exchange for shoes that are just a hair too big and clothes that keep his skin from the sparking itch of his fire escape beds.

It’s this sleeping arrangement that gets him in trouble. Faeries are meant to be swifter, stronger than humans. But with his crutch he’s not able to outrun the police. A shopkeeper reports him for vagrancy and even his charms aren’t able to keep the police from dragging him to the Refuge.

Another boy, a newsboy, sees this from a little ways down the street. He freezes and his face darkens. His face with its too sharp angles and too bright eyes. The boy is moving before he has the time to process this, making a messy grab for a trinket from a nearby vendor’s cart, dropping his papers in the process. The police notice – everyone on the block notices – and grab him. The boy struggles but it’s a show, he can tell it’s just for show, and soon they’re both being lifted into the wagon.

The trial is short, the other boy cocky, and the warden at the Refuge cruel. At least here he has a bed, a real bed, for the first time in years. The other boy smooth talks his way into getting the one next to him.

“You can call me Jack, Jack Kelly. Though some of the boys call me Cowboy too,” he says with a quicksilver smile.

He raises a skeptical brow, his thoughts catching on the phrasing and the sharp points the boy’s ears come to. Sharp points that match his own.

“You’re like me,” he says instead of giving his name. He knows better than to give anyone his name. He knows Jack certainly isn’t this boy’s.

“Depends on what you mean by that,” Jack says slyly, stretching out on the thin bunk.

“How do you do it?” He asks with genuine curiosity, leaning forward so he can lower his voice and study Jack’s pleasantly bored expression.

Confusion pulls at Jack’s brow. “Do what?”

“Work as a newsboy.” It wasn’t obvious? “They lie all the time to make money.”

The quicksilver is back. “I never lie. I just embellish the truth. Tell a story. The facts are there, just maybe not all the facts. If it weren’t true, I couldn’t say it.” Jack shrugs and it’s an odd motion since he’s laying on his back with his hands propped behind his head. Made odder by the fact that it seems almost graceful. “It’s not so bad. Get to go all over the city and the lodging house means you’ve got a bed if you can afford it.”

He frowns at the non-sequitur. It deepens when he realizes it’s an abrupt topic change. “We’re stuck here and you’re offering me a job?” he can’t keep all the disbelief out of his voice. Even if he hadn’t checked, he could feel that the windows and doors were barred with thick iron rods.

“I’ll be out of here by dawn, question is if you’re coming with me?”

For a solid minute he weighs his options. The Refuge with its coldness and crying children. Jack with his silver tongue and faerie arrogance.

When they manage to sneak out into the courtyard a few hours later they’re met by the boys who helped break the lock and distract the guards. The first causes him to stop, he’s so obviously a sprite that the scowl is the only thing keeping him from laughing. The other is mortal and chomping on an unlit cigar, the scent of which still makes him wrinkle his nose. The four slink out and into an alley before twisting around the block and through another back alley until they’re farther and farther away.

“We’re even now, Kelly,” the sprite finally growls once the sky begins to lighten.

“A deal’s a deal, Spot.” Jack offers his hand, spitting into it first. If he hadn’t already figured the boy was one of the Folk that would have confirmed it. The spit shake marks him as a newsie. Spot turns to him and the mortal, nodding at them both before turning off a side street and disappearing.

“Bell’s gonna ring soon,” the boy says, almost nervous as he bounces on his toes and glances down the street. His eyes dart to where Spot disappeared to, then to him, and finally back to Jack.

“And we’ll be there, right new kid?” Jack raises a brow at him. It’s a taunt.

“Course,” he replies. No bargain was struck, no deal made, but he is in Jack’s debt and they both know it.

Jack nods, smiles, and turns back to the mortal. “Go get in line, Race. Make sure Weasel don’t give us no grief for being late.”

Race, apparently, grins around the cigar and takes off running. Maybe that’s where the nickname comes from.

“You can trust Racetrack,” Jack tells him vaguely as they follow, “he’s good people.”

Or maybe that’s not where the nickname comes from.

In the next few weeks, he learns the ins and outs of selling from Jack. And of “charming folks” though truthfully, it’s just magic. Jack starts calling him “Kid” and the other newsies “Crutchie” and he doesn’t really care because neither are his name and that’s what matters. The night in the Refuge isn’t the first or last Jack spends there, but it is the only one that’s intentional. He works harder to repay Jack who seems less and less inclined to care.

Finally, he feels they’re even when he manages to discover the nook in the corner of the roof of the lodging house. The air is still filled with smoke and iron but not the smell and sounds of mortal boys. He takes careful trips up with bedding and supplies until he feels it’s suitable. Sleeping under the stars just feels right and he can tell Jack agrees by the expression on his face when he sees it.

They grow close. The other newsies learn he can predict the weather with startling accuracy and say it must be thanks to his leg, he never corrects them. They talk as the city chokes them, about going to someplace that’s nothing but stars. The money comes in fits and starts as he grows into his own sharp features. The other Folk avoid him but mortals feel almost compelled to buy his papers. Stories come in across the river of a young newsie rising through the ranks of Brooklyn and ruling with an iron fist. They don’t tell any of the others that the rumors sound an awful lot like the stories of Court drama they hear.

He keeps his own crown in the bag at his hip, as unchanging as the day he received it. Though now, years later and clothes traded and swapped and bought he misses the buttons she took. Misses having something that reminds him of the place he used to believe was home. For even his crutch is different, having long outgrown the original.

They’re teenagers too soon, a blink in their long lifetimes. With it comes something they don’t expect, an odd almost awed respect from the others. Except Race but he never counted. He’s tied up in Brooklyn as a rule and so is exempt. They never sought the power they seemingly have, power different than that which they were born with, and they discover it in the most dramatic way.

It starts with a raise in prices. A raise which isn’t fair, and they of all people would know. Jack is outraged, he is angry too but in a colder way.

The new boy, the one who either didn’t heed the stories of the old world or else his family hadn’t passed them on – and that did happen as people sought to keep the good and leave the monsters behind when they came to America and never would they imagine to find so many pretty ones in the center of the city – and offers his name as though it was on a platter. Even his little brother gives a nickname. But Jack had been kind and called him Davey and the others had too, much to Davey’s unknowing chagrin.

The new boy, Davey, matches Jack in his heat, at least momentarily, offering the spark to Jack’s powder and unknowingly unleashing that power.

When Jack says they should strike, they strike.

He finally understands the appeal of the Courts for the first time.

“Do you think she’s really going to show up tomorrow?” he asks that night on the rooftop, head still spinning from the rush of their decision. The thrill had dampened slightly after Jack told him of Spot’s reluctance to join them. Understandable, why would he want to risk losing the grip he kept on the tight leash he had over Brooklyn? And he didn’t owe Jack anymore. But this was as much for them as for the mortals. Righting a wrong against oneself was practically faerie law. Though the girl reporter was an intriguing thought and a twist even he hadn’t seen coming.

“I think so,” he can hear Jack’s smirk in the dark. “She told me her name was Katherine Plumber.”

“Really?” He’s surprised, the way she’d eyed him he thought she’d know better.

“Least it’s the name she publishes under,” Jack is almost proud.

“Clever,” he says happily.

“Too bad your charm doesn’t work in print,” Jack teases.

“I don’t need glamour to be charming. The smile’s just icing.”

Jack laughs, the sound floating up over the rooftops. “Good thing she’s bringing a camera.”

He grins up at the stars.

Like any war there are casualties. Unfortunately, he is one of them. Being back in the Refuge again is hard. The time stretches and shrinks in ways he never imagined possible and somehow he knows decades, centuries later he will look back on this and still wonder. The scent of iron is so heavy it’s dizzying and the press of bodies so close it makes everything seem small. These mortals with iron in their blood and salt on their skin surrounding him on all sides. He has the crown, somehow he has the crown. His crown. It marks him as other and for a time, some measure of time, he feels even more alone. So different from these humans serving penance without crime with him.

He takes it out one night, straining to see the pale petals in the paler light of the moon when that changes. The crown proves he is not alone. The faerie woman, the flower seller, took what was never his to begin with and gave him his true home. His first taste of community. Of finding others like himself. Of finding Jack with his silver tongue and smile. Of the newsies of Lower Manhattan with their bright spirits and easy laughs in the face of the City. Of righteous Davey and mischievous Les and clever Kath. Even of Spot and his politics and power games. He found his birthright in the world he was forsaken to and that realization rekindles something within, twisting the crown in his hands.

He feels less alone, turning his charm back on as the sun rises. Knowing that he is just one of hundreds here in the Refuge feeling like this. Uses his charm to learn that there are some who can get messages in and out. Others who can get him supplies. And in the night, despite complaints from his fellows for the candlelight, he writes to Jack urging him to not let his own fire go out.

He knows they’ll win, has never been in doubt of it. Jack said they would and Jack can’t lie. But he knows Jack, and knows that not being able to tell a lie does not mean you can’t lie to yourself. So, he writes and hopes that it gets to Jack in time.

The time slips and spins and he sleeps and waits and imagines and remembers and nearly misses a name being called. A name that was never really his but he took before he could talk and he hasn’t heard in so long he’d honestly almost forgotten it. The others part for him as he carefully makes his way to the stairs that will lead him to the ground floor and the door out of this place. He is thankful for his faerie grace as he moves with so many eyes on him, his crutch catching on the uneven floorboards but he walks with his head high. Walks right out the door. He’s not the only one to do so, but he is the first.

Relishing in the ability to breath in the wind again, he rides in the governor’s open topped carriage taking in lungfuls of it. Even when it carries the stale scent of trash and the river. His smile is so wide it almost hurts and he nearly forgets to smooth the points his teeth have grown into with the giddiness humming like magic under his skin. The people on the street stare to see such a grubby looking boy riding alone in such finery and he lets them, waving a bit and laughing to think that all this was done just for him. There’s a strange metaphor all tied up in it somewhere. A riddle he’ll spend the time puzzling out later. Right now he just breathes.

Seeing the crowd turn at the sound of hooves and whistles and the governor’s gesturing sends his heart speeding. He accepts the excitement buzzing throughout it and between his ears as some of the boys rush the carriage, holding out hands in silent offers to help him down. For once, he accepts. Jack’s grinning up on the small stage above the door to The World – another twisted metaphor for another time – but he quirks a brow too. Knowing he only allows this because so much focus has passed on to question about the police wagon that has followed behind him the whole way.

He makes a face at Jack in silent response before letting his own pride takeover. He spins and gestures to the wagon where police officers are herding out a man. Herding out the man who runs the Refuge. Who ran the Refuge. He can almost feel his excitement pricking at his fingers in the same way iron does as the governor agrees to let him do the honors. The feeling overpowers the actual feel of the iron manacles as he clamps them on the man’s wrist, letting his glamor slip and his smile turn cruel for just a blink in the process.

The celebrating ends sooner than expected, though that isn’t entirely true. Despite the newsies lining up and taking their papers, they all still chatter and cheer. Bubbling up and over at their win. Jack is talking with Spot, Davey, and Kath when he comes over after getting his own stack for the morning. Spot gives him a significant nod before spit shaking hands all around and heading off with his lieutenants. Racetrack trailing behind. It’s an odd mirror of their first meeting and he brushes the thought away as another problem for another time.

“I’m so glad you’re ok,” Kath says as she hugs him. He’s come to realize that she’s special in more ways than one. Her possession of the Sight just part of a larger enigma. Her willingness to pull him into her and easy offers of friendship another. He doesn’t argue though, squeezing her right back.

Davey offers a hand to shake once she frees him and a cautious smile. The caution has nothing to do with him though and everything to do with Davey’s own contradiction filled nature. “You were missed,” he says earnestly. Swatting at his little brother who begins babbling exactly how missed he was.

“So, how was the ride?” Jack slings an arm over his shoulders, wide smile as he pulls him in tight to his side.

“You struck a bargain,” he almost hisses through his own smile clenched teeth.

“We came to an agreement.” He feels more than sees Jack’s shrug.

“It was two deals,” Davey corrects with a stern turn to his mouth and a flash in his eyes. “Jack made two deals with Pulitzer.”

He pulls away, brushing off Jack’s hold. He stares hard at the other boy. Dares him to say something and damn himself. Say nothing and damn himself even further.

“The first was a deal only we could make,” Jack says smoothly. He doesn’t blink and his sharp features become sharper with the seriousness that overtakes him. He understands immediately. It was hard. It was cruel. And it doesn’t matter what exactly it was and who gave what because in the end Jack walked away with what mattered most.

“And the second?” he prompts.

Jack shrugs again, shares a glance with the others, and smirks. “We won.”

Truthfully, he should have expected that. He rolls his eyes. Later, under the stars and the smoke, breathing in as little iron as they can he’ll ask again. He’ll find out what he did to convince Spot. What the terms of the bargain were. Of both bargains. And whether Jack was going to tell Davey their true nature, since there was no point in telling Kath. They have all the time in the world to leave the city and see the stars. These people they’ve turned into a home have only a lifetime and he’s already decided that he’s going to make the most of it.

End notes can be found on ao3. Please leave a comment and lmk what you think there as well! :)

#newsies #newsies secret santa 2020 #crutchie morris #jack kelly #fae #writing #own writing #my fic #canon compliant #it technically is!!! #david jacobs #davey jacobs #katherine plumber #katherine pulitzer #spot conlon #racetrack higgins #it's the 20th here officially and i got excited about this so i'm posting

[zacc-attacc]

Firstly - I really love good puns, so your username made my day xD

Then, for your request thing - would you maybe write a Sprace OneShot that plays in the canon era? Maybe some sort of friends-to-lovers thing?

Thanks :)

First of all, thank you for the request! And for the compliment, of course.

ANYWAYS, HISTORICAL SPRACE, HERE WE GO BABS.

Sweet-Talker- A Historical Sprace Fic

Word Count: 2k

I wasn’t supposed to fall in love. Period. Especially with a boy. I was Spot Conlon, the King of Brooklyn. Not some blithering idiot who brings flowers to some idiot boy halfway across New York. I had made a pledge, not only to myself but to the others. I was responsible for them. 

So why was I falling for a stupid blond Manhattan boy with an addiction to soggy cigars?

I still remember the first time I saw him-- on a pape I was selling to a regular buyer. It was just a black and white picture, which hardly did any justice to how handsome he was in color. But even among 20 or so other newsboys, I felt a flutter in my stomach when I looked into his eyes. 

Disgusting, I thought as I sold the paper. Is this what the boys were talking about? Sparks flying and all that sappy shit?

If I had been smart, I would’ve sold all my papes and kept my distance from the strike. From Cigar Boy. 

Brooklyn don’t get caught up in things that ain’t our deal, I reminded myself. 

But Race, as I learned later, tends to bring out the worst in me. So I did the dumb thing. I sold all but one of my papes (I couldn’t bring myself to just… Give him away like that. For what? A penny?) and ran to Manhattan. 

Where it was a full-blown war. Pulitzer had called in dozens of goons (but, of course, couldn’t be bothered to show up himself), an army of policemen, and the only cop the newsboys truly feared-- Snyder. The only man who had succeeded in locking up the two most resilient Newsies of New York- Jack Kelly, and yours truly. 

I watched in horror as bottles were thrown, teenage boys were hit by adults, even a smaller boy who needed a crutch to walk was beaten with his own crutch. And I knew I couldn’t do the smart thing, the Brooklyn thing ever again. Not for this.

I ran to join my brethren, letting myself give in to the adrenaline of a battle. Luckily for me, most people were too lost in the chaos to notice me. 

All except for one. 

As cops ran, chasing boys as if they were prey that they would likely never catch, who other than Cigar Boy walked over to me, spitting blood out of his mouth and extending his hand for a handshake. 

“Well, well, well, to whats do we owe the pleasure of Spot Conlon of Brooklyn?” He said, giving me a tired grin. He didn’t have a cigar between his lips, but he did have one sticking out of his pocket. I shook his hand, noticing that even after he had literally been beaten up for an hour plus, his handshake was firm. 

“Okay there, Sluggo, we’ll talk when you ain’t bleeding from the head,” I said gruffly, turning and starting to walk back towards Brooklyn. If I could convince the boys, we could come back later and tell Manhattan we were joining the strike. 

“The lodge is this was,” the boy pointed to the opposite direction of where I was heading. I gave a light laugh. 

“No, no. I’s best get goin’ so you’s can patch up.” 

“There ain’t no way I’s letting you walk halfway across New York after getting beaten up,” the boy protested, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the lodge. 

“I’ve been through worse,” I protested, attempting to dislodge my arm from his grasp. 

“Well, ya’int goin’ through that again. Now c’mon. We has some bandages back at the lodge for that cut of yours,” he said, gesturing to the deep cut in my upper arm. I sighed in defeat and started walking. 

“Just so you know… This is just to make sure yous don’t pass out in the streets on the way there,” I clarified. The boy just rolled his eyes and chuckled. 

“For New York’s most feared Newsie, you sure is worried about someone you just met today.”

“I’m feared, but I an’t heartless, sweet-talker. I don’t want another life on my conscience.” Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. What kind of monster did he think I was? Race stopped walking. I looked up and saw a complex setup of fire escapes, rails, and a rooftop where a newsboy who could only be Jack Kelly was pacing.

“Fair enough. Well, we’s here… So I’s just gonna swing up, grab my stuff, I can meet you down here,” the boy said, grabbing onto some rungs of a fire escape and climbing up with surprising nimbleness. It was as if the battle had barely affected him. That, or he was still riding the adrenaline rush. 

“No, no. Take care of your boys. I won’t die,” I said, hearing the panic in my tone. If Jack saw me with no reinforcements, he’d start to think we were fully on board. And if Brooklyn wasn’t, and word got around that I had already fought… It wouldn’t be good. They would accuse me of being a traitor. I couldn’t risk that.

“Ey, no, that wasn’t part of our agreement!” he yelled as I walked away. I could hear the smile in his voice.

“Next time, have me shake on it, sweet-talker!” I shouted back, turning around to see his impish grin. My muscles were screaming in protest from overuse, but I had to get home before dark. 

“The name’s Racetrack Higgins!” was the last I heard before breaking into a sprint. 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

And here we are now. Strike over, prices back, nobody dead, everyone happy.

Except for me. 

Because I wasn’t supposed to fall in love, but here it came. Striding down the hill with a cigar in its mouth.

I could feel the unease in the boys beside me. We weren’t used to soloing Newsboys in our area, barely after selling hours, no less. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle it,” I muttered to them, walking towards Race. 

“What. Are. You. Doing. Here,” I hissed, grabbing his shoulders and fake-shoving him to look like I was giving him a serious talking-to. He couldn’t know we knew each other. It had to look like we were fighting.

“Well, Conlon, I thought we’d had a moment there,” Race whisper-shouted back, shoving me as well. I lowered my voice to an even quieter tone. 

“Meet me in your alleyway after sundown.”

He looked at me, confusion on his face, but nodded numbly and ran away. 

I heaved a sigh and turned to go spin some fake tale about why he was there.

That boy is going to be the death of me.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

“Why’d you chase me out like that, Conlon?” Race asked, leaning against the brick wall of the Newsboy lodge. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. 

I hated it. 

“Because, Higgins, the boys don’t like strange Manhattan Newsies on our turf,” I half-spat. How stupid could he get? Didn’t he understand what was at stake here?

“You’re mad at me,” he said, his eyes flashing with realization. 

“Yeah, no shit,” I muttered, starting to pace. This was a bad idea. Why did I keep letting myself come back to him? Why was I constantly subjecting myself to the one thing I couldn’t have?

“Why? I just wanted to see you again,” he protested, walking towards me. I turned around to face him, my nose practically touching his chin.

“‘Cause we ain’t supposed to be friends. The boys see you hangin’ around Brooklyn, they’ll think yous tryin’ to prove something. And you know what they do to boys that ain’t ours? They beat ‘em up. Then, they bring them to me. And I decide if they’s gets a real pounding. But do I have a choice? No! Once they’s decides yous getting beat, my say hardly matters. If I randomly tell them to let someone go, I’m considered soft. Then we both get beat. Do you see what they’ve done to some boys? I ain’t letting that happen to you, Race! I’m not patching up your wounds because I couldn’t control-”

“Spot.,” Race cut me off. I froze. It was the first time he had used my full name. 

“What?” I asked bitterly. I noticed my eyes were burning. Why were they burning? What was this hellish sensation?

I felt something warm trickle down my face. 

Oh. My. God. I was crying. Crying! I hadn’t cried in four years! All about some idiot boy who had lovely eyes and blond hair and was empathetic and made me genuinely laugh and feel safe for the first time in years-

Race stepped forward, crushing the distance between us in one stride (damn tall people), and then… Hugged me. 

I hadn’t been really hugged in seven years, since I had made it to Brooklyn. Well, I had received bro hugs. Light ‘ey, whaddup’ hugs. But this… This was the type of hug that I hadn’t received since my parents had died. The type of hug that shields you from the outside world, that makes you feel like an atomic bomb could go off and they could protect you from it. 

It was so strange, so human. I hadn’t been treated like a real person for so long.

“It’s really like that, huh,” Race whispered, stroking my back. I felt goosebumps appear on my skin. How much feeling had I forced myself to miss out on? 

“It’s just… A lot. I mean… I’ve always known I would give my life for those boys, they’re my everything. But… I don’t know if they would for me. I don’t even know how much they truly respect me. I can’t even say if they’d respect this new rule I’ve been thinking of putting in place,” I said, not moving from my place in Race’s grasp. 

“And what would that be?” Race muttered, rocking back and forth. It was… nice. 

“No beating up on Racetrack Higgins ‘cause he deserves the world,” I said, my voice still muffled in his shirt. He chuckled. 

“I hardly deserve the world… But… Could I have you?” there was this caution in his voice, so different from the constant suave tone he took on while talking with me. But, then again, I of all people was sobbing into a boy’s chest, so this night turned out to be the night of all the unthinkable. 

“I don’t know if that’s what you really want, but… You can have me, sweet-talker,” I said, tipping up my head and meeting his lips in a kiss. 

It wasn’t sudden, or brash like most would’ve thought our first kiss would be like. No, it was slow and sweet. Because even if our relationship was loud and chaotic, we could take pieces of it as slow as we wanted. 

And now, I can say that my sweet-talkers lips are just as sweet as his words.

A/N: Thank y’all so much for reading! if you have any sort of prompts, pop on over to my asks! Love y’all! <3 

#newsies #spot conlon #racetrack higgins #historical #newsies the broadway musical #fanfiction #spot conlon x racetrack higgins #sprace #racetrack higgins X spot conlon #strike #newsies fanfiction #sprace fanfiction #dice writes

[harlem-to-delancy]

Hey so it looks like I’m finally gonna have time to actually write soon!! Which means I finally get to write my first newsies fic!! Now just to decide what to write

I have a few ideas but I wanted to see if any of my followers wanted to help me chose what to write first so I’m gonna list some options and if you see one you like you can reply to this post or just send me a message about it!

Options:

Au’s:

1. Luca au (I imagine this one will get the most because people liked my post I made about it)

2. Atlantis au (I can’t stop thinking about Davey as Milo)

3. Merlin au (two sides of the same coin anyone?)

4. Sorcerers Apprentice au (the 2010 film, aka my favourite disney movie ever, and I mean Dave is already right there my dudes)

Regular fics: (they have titles! And so far that’s it)

1. New York or Santa Fe (or wherever to get away from here)

(Doesn’t really have a plot yet, but if you recognize where the title is from then it means you survived through 2013 pop radio as well)

2. To paint a masterpiece half as beautiful as you

(Basically just author!Davey and illustrator!jack)

3. The Story

(Based on the song ‘The Story’ by Conan Gray, specifically the lines that go “And when I was younger I knew a boy and boy, best friends with each other but always wished they were more, cause they loved one another but never discovered cause they were too afraid of what they’d say, moved to different states”)

4. All these tables and chairs, and empty blank stares

(A canon era fic where Davey finally gets to go back to school because I need my boy to finish his education like he wants to)

If anyone wants to vote for one that would mean the absolute world to me (though of course no pressure) or if you would just like to message me and talk about any of these I would absolutely love that!!

Anyways hopefully a fic will be coming soon!!

#I’m so excited to finally write for this fandom #first I gotta finish a fic I’m writing for st but once I’m done (probably this week) I’ll start one of these #also if anyone would like to send prompts or anything I’d also love to some of those! #newsies musical #h’s posts #h writes

[offspring-of-calliope]

I really like your writing, so if you're still taking drabble requests: how about some hurt/comfort for Ralbert? Maybe canon era? Sorry, I'm really bad at specific requests, but maybe this gives you an idea

Guess who only now realised that she still has to work through 15 pages of text in preparation for the lecture she has tomorrow morning and still prioritized finally writing this drabble? But hey, I really liked how this turned out, so maybe I'll regret it only half as much as I normally would.

I hope this fits your expectations and thanks for liking my writing :)

And don't be shy, you can still write me your wishes, I love writing something that others would like to see and enjoy.

So, for now I hope you'll enjoy this little drabble,

Sincerely, me,

Lélodie

-----

The sinking sun was painting the sky in a beautiful red colour - the same colour that had been used in the picture he held in his hands. Tightly, as if the memory of the boy who had drawn it would fade if he let go.

"There you is."

The sudden voice made him turn his head to see who was coming up to the rooftop. Jack und Crutchie's rooftop. "Hey, Albert," Racetrack Higgins greeted the newcomer, nodded slightly and then proceeded to stare at the picture in his hands.

"Oh, come on, Racer. Lighten up, you's lookin' as if someone's died." Albert said softly, sitting down next to the other boy and looking at him with worry in his eyes.

Race forced out a laugh. "Kinda feels like it. I mean, he's gone for six months. How's we gonna manage without Jack? And we ain't even having Davey who's lookin' after us like a mother hen!"

He was happy for Jack, he really was. Going to Santa Fe had always been the biggest dream of the oldest of the newsies, who'd also always been like a father figure to every one of them. And now, he was sitting in a train, on his way to visit Santa Fe for six months. It had been a surprise for everyone when Jack had suddenly told them all that he'd made enough money with his cartoon-drawing job - enough money to follow his dreams.

In addition to that, David's father had found a new job and since David hadn't stopped selling papers, he'd also saved a little money to be able to accompany Jack to Santa Fe. Katherine had become quite the famous reporter and therefore had had enough money as well.

The three of them were only going to stay in Santa Fe for presumably six months but in these six months, Race had to play their part that was leading Manhattan. Being the father figure to all the Newsies of Lower Manhattan. The problem was - how could he watch over all these boys when he wasn't even able to look properly after himself most of the time?

"Hey." Seemingly out of nowhere, a hand was touching his bare arm and he shivered in surprise. "I's basically able ta hear ya thinkin'. Relax for a moment, Racer. Take a deep breath."

"Did ya even listen ta me, Albie? Jack's gone! I can't look after the other boys without-", Race protested.

"Shush, Racer! Breathe. Trust me. In. Out," Albert tried again, now stroking both of Race's arms in a soothing manner.

"I don't think ya understand the situation I's -"

"Breathe."

"But -"

"Breathe."

"Al, I -"

"Jesus Christ, Racer!" Albert eventually exclaimed, grabbed Race's face and smashed their lips together.

Race revelled in the familiar feeling of Albert's lips on his, Albert's hands on his skin, Albert's presence in his heart. For just a tiny moment, his brain was empty. Not the bad kind of empty but a nice empty that made him feel free and careless, as if he could conquer the world.

After a while, Albert pulled back. "Sometimes I wonder if ya do it on purpose," he mumbled, stroking Race's hair, staring at him with a mixture of awe and amusement.

"Do what?" Race asked, finding himself grabbing Albert's shoulder, only subconsciously realising that the picture he'd been holding before had slipped out of his grasp.

"I don't know. Just. What I don't want ya to do, ya know?"

A smug smile graced Race's lips. "If I'd do what ya want me ta do, ya wouldn't kiss me ta convince me."

"So ya do it on purpose!" Albert laughed, leaning into Race's touch. "But honestly, Racer. The Newsies love ya. How could they not? You's wonderful. So what, you's irritated mosta the time, maybe not the most mature? It doesn't matter. They don't need someone who's mature. They need someone they can trust. Who they can rely on, as Davey would say. And that someone is you, ya know? And if ya need help, remember, you's not alone. You got me, Crutchie, Blink, all of the others. We can look after each other together."

Silence. For a long while, Race only stared at Albert, drawing patterns on his skin with his fingers. Then: "I love you." He held his breath. Never before had he said these words to Albert.

Albert smiled. "I love ya, too."

"You's the best." Race added, suddenly being able to breath more freely than before. He remembered the station, seeing Jack and the people he held most dear in this world entering a train, taking the first big step of their relationship. Jack deserved it. Race could let him go. Him and Albert would have their own big step to take the next few months.

Once again, Albert stroked his hair and gently kissed his forehead. "I know." Both of them laughed at that.

And the sun had set behind the rooftops of Manhattan but these two boys where as awake and as aware of each other as they'd never been before.

#newsies #newsies fanfic #drabble #ralbert #racetrack higgins #albert dasilva #jack kelly #canon era #writing #writer #newsies musical #musical theatre #musicals #newsies broadway #davey jacobs #katherine plumber pulitzer