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newtsies · 3 years

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Great Outdoors || Ch. 1 {{ Kid Blink x Mayors Daughter OC}}

A/N: hiya! so here's somethings you might wanna know about the story!

1. it's a kid blink x oc story, the oc is the mayors daughter. based off of his line in King Of New York (92sies version) where he says 'a saturday night with the mayors daughter'

2. i included their accents, but not like too much? let me know if you think i should write it with less of an accent or more of an accent.

3. this is based off of the 1992 version but includes some characters from the Broadway version. any character in both versions are based off the 1992 version. for example: racetrack, david, jack, les, mush, ect. are all based off of the 1992 version

4. i won't be writing any of the songs, because it's harder to do that. if you think i should include songs, let me know!

5. i swear the other a/n after this will be way shorter-

word count: 4375

read on wattpad

Heat stuck to her skin as she slipped out the window of her room. In New York, the middle of summer scorched everyone who dare leave their fanned homes. It also scorched those who worked outdoors, or burned those who didn't have homes. But Juliet was willing to take the chances of getting sun burned, she needed to get out of her room.

She had been reading for hours, there was really nothing else to do. Reading for 6 hours tends to get boring, especially when all the books you can read are about wars. Most of the war books were historically incorrect anyways. She swore to one day rewrite every historical book she read, but make it accurate.

She ran down the fire escape and took in the scene of the hot Manhattan streets. She had no idea what to do, Juliet rarely left her house and when she did, it was with her father in a carriage. Without a map or guide to help her, she let her feet lead her through the streets.

"Hiya, ma'am," A boy said exhaustedly, tipping his cap at her, "Care ta hear todays news? The World seems ta want everyone ta know there was a baby born with two heads!"

"Oh, well, sure! Is a quarter alright?" Juliet asks, pulling out a quarter from her pocket.

"Ma'am, a pape is only 1 penny!" He smiled at her as he took his cap off and wiped his forehead, "Please, I really couldn't take any more than a penny from a sweet girl like you."

She flushed with embarrassment, "I'm so sorry, I've never been out in the city on my own before. I promise you, loosing a quarter sure doesn't affect me much."

"Thank ya, ma'am," The boy grinned, trading the paper for her coin, "Ya said ya'd neva been on da streets?" Juliet nodded, scratching her arm as the feeling of embarrassment bubbled inside her. "Care ta wander with me?"

"Well- I'm sure you're busy, right? I'd hate to intrude," She rambled.

"Ma'am! I'm free all day, honestly. I'd love ta show ya around, if you're up for it o' course!" He admitted with an honest smile, "Come carry da banner with me for a few more minutes and I'll show you good 'ol Manhattan!"

"Thank you-" She started, pausing to silently ask him for his name.

"Kid Blink," He smiled, "Wanna try sellin' a pape, ma'am?" He offered a newspaper to her, which she hesitantly took and turned to look at people walking by.

Juliet raised the paper and called out, "Daily news!"

A chuckle came from behind her, "All due respect, ma'am. You gotta yell out a headline or a story!" Her cheeks went red with embarrassment but she nodded, flipping through the paper quickly.

"Baby born with 2 heads! ... Medical anomaly!" She added, someone rushed towards her and handed her a penny for the paper. "I did it!"

"Great job, miss! Oh, keep the penny, ma'am!" Kid Blink stated sincerely as Juliet attempted to give him the penny, "Da quarter ya gave me has got me set for longer den a week!"

Juliet admired the boy, for he had great talent when it came to selling newspapers. When she had bumped into him, he had been carrying a whole stack of papers. A stack that looked plenty heavy. However, not once did he complain nor even look for a second as if he might drop them. He just kept carrying them and calling out headlines. Within 10 minutes of meeting him, his stack of papers were all sold.

"Honestly, ma'am, the streets of Manhattan ain't got much to see," Kid Blink explained earnestly, "Oh! I gotta place that's got some good wadda, want to go there?"

She grinned, "I'll admit, I'm a little hungry. I don't know any other restaurants, so if you say the place is good, all I can do is believe you! Lead the way, Kid Blink."

"Please, ma'am, call me Blink!" He stated, starting to walk away. She walked close behind him, nervous from stories her father had told her about the streets, "You alright, miss?"

"Peachy," She lied, "So, you, uh, do this everyday?"

Blink nodded, "Everyday! Carry the banner, eat if I'se got the money, sleep, den do it all again!"

"That's gotta be rough, how old are you?" Juliet asked.

"14, ma'am," Kid Blink replied before turning to her, "How old are you?"

"14," Juliet answered, "It's insane you're doing this everyday, living like this."

He smiled at her and tipped his cap, "Jus' life, ma'am!"

They stood together in front of a restaurant, the sign above it read Tibby's. Kid Blink turned to Juliet with a grin then moved to hold open the door for her. She nodded at him before cautiously stepping in, feeling the boy press against her as he closed the door behind him.

"Blink!" A boy called from a table, waving him over. Kid Blink looked at Juliet and nodded at the table full of boys then started walking over to them. She let her head fall down as she walked close behind him.

"Hiya, boys!" Blink grinned, sliding into the seats and shoving another boy into the wall so Juliet could sit down too, "This is, uh-"

"Juliet," she stated nervously, "Juliet Adams."

One boy joked, "Say, Adams is da mayors last name. You his daughter?"

"Yeah," She laughed, obviously very scared.

They all gaped at her. Kid Blink laughed and wiped the sweat off his forehead, "I woulda neva guessed. Anyways, Ms. Adams, this here is Racetrack, Elmer, Mush, and Skittery." The named boys grinned and waved at her as their names were called.

"Nice to meet you all," Juliet said, "Do you all work as newsies?"

Racetrack nodded, "Yes, ma'am. Now, I've gotta ask. What did 'ol Blink here say ta get ya ta come all da way over here wit 'im?" Blink rolled his eyes and ran his hand through his hair before placing his cap on his head again.

"Well, you see, I've never really left my house, not on my own at least. Kid Blink offered to show me around the city!" Juliet explained before looking at a menu above the register, "What do you boys usually get?"

"Wadda," Elmer states, then adds with a shrug, " 'Ts free."

She glanced around the table, assuming it was a joke, but was met with honest faces. She shook her head, "Why don't you all get some food. I'll pay, don't worry."

Kid Blink interfered, "Ms. Adams, we couldn't possibly let you pay for us-"

"Call me, Juliet, or Julie, all of you. Honestly, you've helped me a lot today, Kid Blink. It's the least I can do to make sure you all have full stomachs for at least a day. Let me pay, please," She pleaded. He looked at her and sighed and nodded before looking over the menu.

"She's a gift from the gods!" Elmer exclaimed, leaning over the table excitedly and giving her a hug. She laughed and pat the golden-retriever-like boy on the cheek.

Skittery nodded in agreement and Albert joked, "An angel me thinks. Think Big Man'll miss her if we keep her?"

"The mayor or God?" Racetrack asked before drinking his water.

Elmer looked at her with a look of fear, "Think he'll try to chop off our heads?" She laughed and shook her head.

"If anything, I'll be the headless one. He'll kill me once I get home. It's already getting dark," Juliet stressed, "I should be heading back after you all eat."

And so the boys and the girl, who had been isolated her whole life, joked and laughed together over plates of food. They begged and begged to help her and chip in for the bill, but she stubbornly refused. Eventually they were forced out of the building due to the 'dinner rush.'

Racetrack had joked, "By dinner rush, he means 5 customers who actually buy da food instead of drink all his wadda!'

They talked for a while longer before reaching the lodging house where 4 out of the 5 boys retreated into the building after waving goodbye to Juliet. Kid Blink lingered behind, hesitant to let her go alone through Manhattan at night. She insisted she would be fine, but Blink knew better than to not trust his gut instinct.

"I'm walking ya home, I cant let you walk alone during da night. 'Specially cuz ya don't know da streets all too well," He explained earnestly.

"I'm sure I'll be fine! Honestly, how dangerous can it be? Besides, won't it be dangerous for you to walk back alone?" She asked.

"Nah! I know dese streets like da back of my hand!" Blink reassured her as he lead her through the streets, "What's it like being da mayors daughter?"

Juliet sighed, "It's not horrible, but he never lets me leave the house. The only time I get to leave is to go with him in a car to some meeting he has. All I do is study. Don't get me wrong, I know I'm lucky. I have a consistent roof over my head, a consistent food source, and I'll never run out of money or new clothes. But what's the point if I don't ever get to talk to anyone?"

"I see," He nodded, "Hey, me an' da boys may not be rich or have any of dat food stuff often, but we sure as hell is a family! Life is worth the living as long as you got good friends to live it with. You ain't neva had no friends ever?"

She chuckled a little and shook her head, "Sure, I've had friends. They were all quite rude and stuck up, though. I sure hope I don't come off that way to you-"

"No, ma'am. You ain't stuck up, don't worry 'bout it!" Kid Blink told her, stopping at the house that towered over them. "Nice place ya got here."

"Thank you," She grinned, "Oh, and thanks for showing me around, Kid Blink."

He tipped his hat and nodded, "My pleasure, Ms. Adams."

"Juliet," She corrected.

"How 'bout Jules?"

"That works too, Blink."

She ran up the fire escape and waved at him from the top. He gave a short wave before turning back around to head back to the lodging house. Juliet tapped on the railing, deciding on what to say to the boy. She groaned and cupped her hands around her mouth.

"Kid Blink!" She shouted, "Think I could help you sell some more papers tomorrow?"

"It would be an honor to spend another day with you! I'll be here tomorrow with some papes, all right?" Blink yelled back, a grin playing on his lips.

"All right! Thank you, Blink!" She waved again before smiling widely and running back into her room.

"Julie?" A voice boomed from downstairs, Juliet cringed.

"Coming Father!" She called, going through her door and down to his office.

He continued to work on the papers laid out in front of him as he talked to her, "I'm sorry about our argument today. Thank you for keeping quiet. I've decided that you can go outside tomorrow, on your own. I trust you, for the most part. Just stay away from those newsboys, got it?"

Her eyebrows furrowed and she tilted her head at him, "What's wrong with the newsboys?"

"Flirts! All of them," He explained angrily, "Dirty and aggressive too!"

"All right, Father. I'll steer clear of the newsboys," She sighed. As she walked back to her room, she laughed to herself. Of course she wouldn't stay away from the newsboys, not like she listened today, right? Kept quiet, She thought, more like wasn't here to make noise.

Juliet woke up the next morning, already feeling the heat from outside, and rushed to her window in hopes to see the newsboy from the day before. Much to her dismay, he was not there. She decided not to stress, maybe he slept in or sold all of his papers already.

"Morning, Father!" She called as she walked into the kitchen, she gave him a kiss on the cheek, "I'm heading out now!"

"Stay safe, Juliet! And remember," He stated firmly, "Stay away from the newsboys!"

She rolled her eyes, "Yes, Father!" Then she was out the door, a wave of heat pushing against her. Juliet smiled before running off towards The World building.

Boys crowded around the town square, shouting and pushing into each other. She looked around and tried to push through the crowd, the kids all backing away from where she was. Juliet looked for familiar faces but couldn't see anyone.

"Ma'am! Ms. Adams! Juliet!" Elmer called out happily, pushing past everyone and bouncing over to her, "Watcha doing in these parts?"

She had to shout over the chaos to be heard, "Kid Blink said he would meet me at my house with papers, but he didn't! Did something happen? Do you know where he is?"

He grinned goofily at her, "Oh, boy, are you in fah a treat! We'se newsboys is on strike! Pulitzah raised the pape prices, so we'se don't sell till he puts it back! C'mon, Blink is over here!" Elmer grabbed her hand and pulled her through the crowd to the very front.

"- Gotta be ambastards and go tell the others that we're on strike!" A boy who stood in front the building shouted. Juliet was dragged by Elmer to stand next to Kid Blink, who turned to her and smiled.

"Say, Jack, we'll take Harlem!" Blink called out to the boy, Jack, and grabbed Juliet's arm.

"Good- Who's dat?" Jack asked the other newsies, Blink and Juliet were already gone.

"Da mayors daughter! Anyways, I got Midtown!" Race shouted before running off.

"Mayors daughter?" He shouted in confusion, but they ignored him and people continued to call out turfs they would go to.

"Sorry, Jules. Honest ta God, I'se was gonna go get ya! But, the price raise was ridiculous! Anyways, we'se goin' ta Harlem, tell dem about da strike! Dat alright with you?" Kid Blink asked after rambling.

She grinned, "Sure! Oh, guess what? My Father finally decided to let me go out freely, so I don't have to sneak away anymore."

"Nice! How'd ya manage ta convince 'im?" He questioned. They walked together through the streets, Kid Blink pulling his shirt to try and give himself some cool air.

"I don't know! Said he was happy that I didn't make any noise after the conversation yesterday! So, he's letting me out freely and he said..." She paused hesitantly.

Blink looked at her and tilted his head curiously, "What? What did he say?"

Juliet groaned and looked at him, "He told me to stay away from the newsboys. I won't, of course! But it's just- I don't get him. It's hard work, isn't it? I think you should all be admired, working this hard at such a young age with no one treating you fairly."

He laughed, "Thanks, miss! Sure is hard work, but we'se don't complain! Now, when we get ta Harlem, just ignore everything dey say. If dey make you uncomfortable, let me know, alright? I'll soak 'em! Or we can just leave. Whatever's easiest!"

"Thanks, Blink. Let's go," She said hesitantly, walking with him into the new borough.

A young boy ran towards them, "Hiya, Kid! And- pretty goil! Hi! Watcha here for?"

"Gotta talk ta Stitch," He explained, "He here, Scram?"

"Well, I reckon he's out by our circulation building! Trying ta calm down all da boys n' stuff! Hear bout the prices?" The boy, Scram, asked them.

" 'Course we did, Scram. That's what we're here to talk 'bout, 'Hattan newsies is on strike," He explained.

"Strike? Ya crazy! Ya know dat means makin' no money, right?" Scram questioned them, absolutely baffled by the idea of loosing a days pay.

"We know, Scram," Blink sighed, "But listen, if we don't work, they'se don't make money either. They need us! They gotta put the price back up soona o' later!"

Scram gave them a look, "I dunno, Blink! Think da World, Journal, and da Sun, and all of dem can go longer then we can without making money!"

"If we get all of da newsies togedda, they can't ignore us!" He explained, hoping to get through to Scram.

"Whateva ya say, Blink! C'mon, I'll take ya two ta Stitch. See what he gotta say 'bout it!" Scram nodded to the side before walking off. Juliet shrugged at Blink and they both started following him. There was havoc everywhere around the circulation building. People were shouting at each other and pushing each other into the floor. She walked close to Blink and Scram, trying to stay away from the fists people were throwing.

"Stitch!" Scram called out, tugging on the shirt of a boy about a foot taller than him. The boys shirt was tight on his arms and completely unbuttoned. His brown suspenders tugged at his shoulder, probably chaffing him. He had multiple scars all over his chest.

"What Scram? What?" Stitch groaned, shaking the boy off his arm.

"Kid Blink and a goil is here to talk to you about somethin'!" Scram explained.

The boy tipped his hat at Juliet, "Ma'am," Then spit in his hand and shook hands with Blink, "Kid Blink. What's up?"

"Well- We- 'Hattan-" Blink attempted to speak but couldn't talk over the yelling. Stitch looked to Scram and nodded at him.

Scram grinned widely and screeched, "Scram! Da bulls!" Everyone froze, stopped yelling and fighting, and bolted away. Scram waved to them, tipped his hat at Juliet, and ran off with everyone else.

"We'se on strike over in 'Hattan. We want you to join too!" Kid Blink explained.

Stitch hesitated, "Oh, I dunno, Blink! We won't make any money at all! We don't like da price either, but it's hard ta make no money at all. All dem newspaper big shots could go months without making money!"

"Yeah, but they can't ignore us if we get all da newsies in New York!" Blink tried to convince him.

"What's Brooklyn doin'? What'd they say?" Stitch asked.

Blink sighed, "I dunno yet."

"Look, when ya get the nod from Brooklyn, come back. Alright? Get the nod from Brooklyn and you can count on Harlem," Stitch promised. Kid Blink sighed again but nodded.

Juliet tilted her head, "So, Harlem is just a bunch of followers? Can't make your own decisions? Seems like Brooklyn is more the leader of Harlem than you are, Stitch." Both boys looked taken aback by her statement.

"No way, ma'am! It's just- We ain't gonna win dis thing if we ain't got Brooklyn!" Stitch explained.

"Oh! You guys aren't strong enough to help us, right?" She instigated.

"Yeah we are!" Stitch groaned, "Fine. Count us in, alright? The second you guys give up, or show any sign of giving up, Harlem is out. Got it?"

"Got it! Thanks, Stitch," Blink smiled, spitting in his hand and sticking it out for Stitch. He spit in his own hand and shook hands with Kid Blink.

"No problem, Blink. Now, as Scram would say, scram! I got to prepare me boys for a strike," He chuckled. Juliet started off, but Stitch grabbed Blinks arm and whispered to him, "Great gal, pretty too. If we get all da newsboys in one place with her, she's gonna be snatched up quick. Beat 'em to it, Blink. Or someone else will." Kid Blink rolled his eyes at Stitch and tugged his arm away, running to catch up with Juliet.

"Jack! What did Spot say?" Race asked as soon as he saw the leader.

"He was concerned 'bout us being serious, you believe that?" Jack scoffed.

The boys looked amongst themselves before Race spoke up, "I dunno Jack. None of da burrows will join us without the O.K. from Brooklyn."

"Wrong! None of da burrows except for Harlem. Harlem'll be here," Blink shouted as he ran over to them with Juliet.

"Awesome! Nice job, Blink," Jack praised.

He shook his head, "Not me. All thanks ta Juliet!"

"I knew she was an angel!" Elmer gushed, grabbing the girls hands and grinning at her.

One newsboy nudged another, "Looks like one too!" Blink shoved the boy who made the comment with his elbow.

"Shut up, Romeo."

The boy who had been nudged the first time laughed, "He told you!"

Said boy, Romeo, rolled his eyes, "Shut up, Henry."

"So what? We got Harlem, how does that help us? Gives us maybe 50 more kids? We should call it off, Jack. We need Brooklyn," A boy stated glumly. Jack looked at Davey, who Juliet had learned was the co-leader of the strike, with desperation evident in his eyes. David nodded and started to sing.

Juliet honestly didn't know how she ended up on the floor. Before, she was listening to the boys singing and watching them dance. At one point, Kid Blink pulled her up to dance with him and the others. She danced with them, but not for long due to the circulation bell ringing. The newsies charged and shouted at what they called 'scabs.'

Then, she was getting shoved all around. She was on the floor and looking to get out. Harlem came running in to help Manhattan, fighting scabs right along with them. Stitch noticed Juliet's struggles and grabbed her arm, yanking her to her feet. He shoved her to Scram, who took her and lead her out of the crowd.

"Hey, Scram!" Julie said breathlessly, smiling down at the young boy as she caught her breath.

"Hiya, ma'am. Ya alright?" Scram asked her.

She nodded, "No need for the formality, Scram. Call me Juliet, or Ms. Adams if you really insist to be formal."

"Okay, Ms. Adams! We gotta run, da bulls is comin'!" He shouted at her, noticing the police running into the circulation building. Scram grabbed her arm and dragged her away.

"Ms. Adams, please take some wadda," Scram begged her, but she refused. She didn't want them to waste any water on her.

"I'm all right, Scram. I promise. Do you think Kid Blink and all the others are all right?" She asked him. He shrugged.

"I dunno, Ms. Adams, but I can check fa ya!" He grinned and bounced excitedly.

"No! It's fine! Relax, Scram, take a running break. I'll check in with them tomorrow," Juliet assured. Stitch walked up to them and sat down behind her on a crate.

"You alright.. Uh.. Wat's ya name?" He asked.

"Juliet Adams," She replied.

Stitch nodded, "Ya alright, Ms. Adams?"

"Yeah," She reassured, "What happened after the police came?"

"Dey only got one guy, 'Hattan guy. The gimp," Stitch reported, "Dey didn't back down though. Still won't quit. We'll be there 'gain tomorrow." Juliet nodded. "Stitch, introduce her to the boys. Have Charles walk her home, got it?"

"Yessir!" Scram called and walked over to a group of boys. "Hiya, guys! This here is Juliet Adams! Ms. Adams, this is Charles, John, Skippy-" Juliet swore he kept talking for a hour. There was about 25 boys she was being introduced to, maybe one day she'd actually keep track of them all. She just nodded as he kept listing off names and pointing at boys.

Juliet just kept nodding, "It's very nice to meet you all. I really must be heading home now, though. Thank you for everything, Scram. Tell Stitch I said thanks too, okay?" Scram nodded excitedly and waved at her as she walked off.

"Wait up!" A boy called, running up next to her, "C'mon, I'll walk ya home. I'm Charles."

"Thanks, Charles. Hey, were you at the circulation building in Manhattan, today?" She asked him.

"Yes, ma'am," He nodded, "Wherever Stitch is, I'm there too."

"I see. Gotta follow the leader, right?" Juliet joked.

Charles blushed and adjusted his cap, "Something like dat. Think we can win?"

"The strike? From what I know, Brooklyn basically leads most of the burrows, right? After today, Spot Conlon, whoever that is, will know we won't back down," She started, "Hopefully, he'll join us after seeing what happened today. Then we'll have all the other turfs. We'll be unstoppable with all of them. We're bound to win."

"Well, I guess you're right. Unstoppable, huh? I like the sound a' dat," He grinned.

"Me too," She smiled, "This is my house. Thank you for walking me here, Charles. I really appreciate it. I'll see you at the circulation building tomorrow."

He tipped his hat at her before walking away, "Bye, miss!"

Juliet walked through the doors of her home, "I'm back, Father."

"Dear! How was your day?" He called back to her.

"Good. I really just walked around, I sat by the Brooklyn bridge and just looked over the scenery," She lied.

He huffed in acknowledgement, "Hear about the newsie strike? I think the streets are gonna be too dangerous. I want you to stay inside again-"

"Father!" Juliet sighed, "You can't do that! I've finally had a taste of freedom. Let me stay out, please? I promise you, I'll be extremely careful."

"Fine. Just," He paused, "Stay away from them, okay? They're already getting violent. Don't get hurt, if you do, you'll be stuck inside until you're an adult, got it?"

She rolled her eyes but nodded, "Yes, Father. I'm going to sleep now." She ran up the stairs to her room and groaned as she sat on her bed. She wouldn't stay away from the newsboys. Maybe she wanted to rebel, maybe she like their company. Her Father was right about one thing, they were already getting violent. And although she couldn't pull herself away, she was scared of getting sucked into the angry force of the newsboys union.

a/n: uhhh sorry if this sucked i havent written in a while but i hope you enjoyed!!

#kid blink #kid blink newsies #kid blink fanfiction #hidden in concrete #hic #mylo.types #newsies #92sies #newsies fanfic #newsies fan fic #newsies fanfiction #newsies fan fiction #1992sies #newsboys

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thefactsofthematter · 4 years

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Hey so I was the anon a while ago that told you that your how to get free cake story is the reason I realized I was in love with my best friend (now girlfriend) and I’m re reading it a few months later and going through a lot of emotions and so I’m going to just dump this all into your inbox so I apologize. Anyway re-reading this story I realized how powerful your writing is. Especially with fan fiction where anyone can post anything it’s easy to read/write a good story but never have I (1/?)

come across a story that has genuinely altered my life the way this one has. The way you write characters is so obviously grounded in real emotions that I was able to relate to and I haven’t read a piece of fan fiction that has actually done that to me. Your writing made me look past the characters you were writing about and the canon newsies story and made me physically relate to what the characters were going through even if I didn’t know it was what I was going through. See this girl (2/?) and I dated when we were 15 and we liked each other but were both going through A LOT and inevitably we both felt like it would be better to split up and focus on ourselves instead of having a forced relationship and both of us were like yeah we’re over it whatever. 2 years later we ended up being closer than when we were dating and had this best friend bond that both of us were like “yeah we’re best friends” and everyone else was like “there’s something more there” but no one asked us (3/?) because they were thinking we dated before and maybe it’s just a best friend bond etc. when I read your story there was a part when Davey realizes he was in love with Jack where he was explaining their relationship with each other and comes to the realization and when I was reading that scene I was thinking “oh that’s how me and my best friend are” and I kept thinking “oh that’s what I think of her” and that kept going on and on while I was reading of just relating to what David was saying (4/?) about jack and when it switched perspectives that’s when I realized like oh my god I’m in love with her is because when jack said he had been for years I just knew idk. There was no thought process but I’ve never related to a story arc more then when it literally happened to me in real life. And like in your story there was just a moment where I was like “hey I’m in love with you surprise” and she was like “whoa me too” and for months there has just been this tension and this pull between (5/?) us that you wrote jack and david having and when i read your story everything just fell into place and i felt finally clear and no longer confused about my feelings like it all just made sense. i just wanted to tell you all of this because as weird as it sounds i guess i owe a lot to you and that story but you're easily my favorite author because of the sole purpose that you write the characters in person but also so realistic that i could be them. Idk im rambling a lot and this is a very (6/7) long-winded way of saying i love your stories and i think you're an incredible author. (7/7)

OHH MY GOD???? ANON IM SO HAPPY FOR YOU AND THIS MEANS SO MUCH TO ME IM FUCKING CRYING !!!!!!

#🥺🥺🥺🥺💕💕💕💕😭😭😭😭😭😭#anon

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thedelanceybruddas · 5 years

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Can you teach me how to rp Morris, i’m really bad at it and it’s a problem

ok so this is super late BUT youre giving me a good excuse to put together my Morris Personality HC™ so thank u anon. i apologize that this is focused less on roleplaying him and more on writing him but. i think that’s close enough.

ok so if we’re looking at the script of the musical we know that Morris is a HUGE instigator. his lines, in order, are: “you want some of that too, ya lousy crip?” - “hey Oscar, looks like it was bum information we got about a strike happening here today. not that i’m complaining; i know my skull bustin’ arm could use a day of rest” - “hey, ya working or trespassing? what’s your pleasure?” - “shut it, ya stupid crip!” - “and now, we’ve been given discretion to handle you as we see fit. yeah, so behave.” - “you can sleep right here, on this old printing press. *SMACK SMACK* now that there is firm.”

a lot of his character is displayed through his physicality; when Race says his whole “it would be a pleasure to tell Weasel myself” line, the camera cuts to Morris and Oscar, and Morris does a sort of pointy ‘i’m watching you’ gesture; a lot of Morris’ threats are just physical gestures not included in the script. the way the actor plays him makes him seem a little less like a goon and more like a jerk older brother; constantly taunting and provoking the newsies, but not really rising to action unless he gets a reaction. every line in the script might have a threatening gesture accompanying it, but it’s like he’s daring the newsies to do anything and doesn’t really have a plan if they do take him up on it. when jack knocks the Delanceys down with Crutchie’s crutch, Oscar is immediately for retribution (“just wait till I get my hands on you!”) but Morris doesn’t respond at all; he follows his brother in chasing Jack, of course, but for someone who keeps talking big game he has no response for when the newsies actually fight back. this rule changes for Crutchie; out of the two Delanceys, Morris verbally and physically attacks Crutchie whenever he gets the opportunity. you can have your own interpretation as to why, but it isn’t excusable.

when he and Oscar are (presumably) hired by Pulitzer to intimidate Jack, Morris takes more of a hands-on approach; when they’re in the distribution yard, Oscar is the one that handles talking to the Newsies the most with little back-and-forth quips and jeers and such, while Morris only talks to them before work starts, either at the gates or just as they’re coming through them, or when his job is to beat on them. he seems to care about seeming responsible/mature when we see him working, whether for Wiesel or Pulitzer, but especially the latter, since that’s when he takes control of the situation the most; presenting the printing press to Jack, telling him to behave — Oscar only has one line in that scene, and that’s to add on to what Morris was saying with a threat (“but just in case, I’ve been polishing my favourite brass knuckles”). when compared to when he’s working for Pulitzer, it’s seems like he’s letting Oscar be the boss of the distribution yard by deliberately keeping out of things; now, I see Morris as the older brother (I have a post saying why) so I interpret this as Morris letting his baby brother do the cool stuff like handing out the papes and talking to the newsies while he handles the dirty work. whatever interpretation you choose, the point is that Morris very rarely speaks to the newsies when he starts working (i.e. after the gate has been unlocked.)

you may notice that literally every single line in the musical is him either instigating a confrontation or him taunting the newsies. if we look at the 1992 script (minus that one scene because dear god please do not use that scene for roleplay inspiration) its a lot more detailed in stage direction + it has a few different lines so we can learn a bit more about him!

the first direction in the script for Morris is for him to push past Jack with ‘deliberate aggression’. when Oscar pushes Snipeshooter to the back of the line, 'Oscar and Morris glare at the crowd, daring anyone to do anything about it.’ – basically that whole first scene with them is showing that they’re just stupid tough goons. in the scene where the Delanceys are chasing jack, at one point, when Morris has him, the script says 'Morris lifts him high into the air to smash him onto the cobblestones.’ However, this doesn’t happen in the actual scene; the only time in Carrying the Banner that’s remotely similar to this is when the Delancey’s are fighting Jack inside the circle of newsies, where Morris pushes Jack down and tackles him, showing him as the heavy-hitter of the duo, further enforcing that he’s the brother who gets his hands dirty.

later, when Jack gets the extra paper for Davey from Wiesel, Wiesel is PISSED and the script says that he backhands Morris (who isn’t even the one who gave Davey the extra paper). This doesn’t make it into the film either (probably because it’s kind of dark, GEE DISNEY DO YOU KNOW WHAT ELSE IS DARK) but it could point to Weasel being abusive towards the brothers.

morris, compared to oscar, seems super sadistic, especially when he grins at Crutchie before he and Oscar drag him off to the cops - and later in the script Crutchie fills us in that Oscar and Morris 'worked him over’ - either before or after turning him in.

we don’t see anything special specific to Morris again until a while later, after Jack becomes a scab; script says 'The Delanceys pass by; Morris grinning at him, bouncing a club in his hand.’

however, this isn’t accurate to the movie, as Morris has a blank, almost annoyed expression. this is significant due to Oscar’s next line: “come with us, cowboy. we’re gonna fix your pal Davey today — fix 'im so’s he can’t walk no more.” Morris tells him to shut up, which, in the script seems like it’s supposed to be said in a way akin to ‘shut up dude, we’re not supposed to tell him that’ but the way the actor delivers it seems more like ‘too far, shut up.’ watching the scene, you can see how Morris slowly shakes his head as Oscar speaks, and the ‘shut up’ is delivered as he pulls Oscar away from Jack. this line is the one that I’ve noticed most fans using to interpret Morris as more sympathetic. if you do want to play Morris semi-sympathetically or try to redeem him, this line is what you want to look at.

the next Delancey scene is weirdly violent and disgusting for Disney and i know it’s a cop-out but i tend to ignore it so i will not cover it here.

one last note is that after jack beats up the Delanceys for The Previous Scene Morris yells “Ya better run, cowboy – we’re tellin’ Weas! You’ll be back in the Refuge by supper time!” haha tattletale

some extra stuff that may or may not be canon: morris’ trading card reads ‘Born in SoHo and worked on the family farm. Abandoned by his parents, believes in survival of the fittest and sticks like glue to his brother, Oscar. They work with their Uncle Wiesel, keeping order at the distribution window of “The World”.’ it’s pretty likely that Mike Faist wrote this, but it’s nice to use as a kind of baseline for Morris’ characterization. Mike also says in the Meet the Newsies video for Morris that “deep down… y’know, really deep down, he’s actually like a really nice guy.”

across both versions of Newsies, we have these consistencies: Morris and Oscar work for their uncle Wiesel (they call him Uncle Weas in the movie), they fight with the Newsies at least twice, and they fight the most with Jack.

we also have the discrepancies: first, the ableism toward Crutchie. in the musical, both of the Delanceys (but mostly Morris) single him out from the other newsies specifically to bully and harass him for being disabled. Morris calls him stupid, assaults him, and calls him a slur twice. it’s obvious that he does this because he’s disabled. for example, Morris snatches his crutch away after Racetrack and Oscar start fighting (“ain’t your father one of the strikers? “guess he didn’t take care of me”) yet does literally nothing to Racetrack who’s the one that started it in the first place, not to mention that Crutchie really didn’t do anything besides stand nearest to Morris. in contrast, the 1992 version has a scene that basically mirrors this scene, except instead of Morris making Crutchie fall over by taking his crutch, Oscar shoves one of the very smallest newsies, Snipeshooter, towards the back of the line of newsies (“in the back you lousy little shrimp.”) Morris is of course still abrasive in the 1992 version, but the only time he SPECIFICALLY picks on Crutchie is when he’s literally the only one left in the distribution yard after the chaos, and Oscar and Morris are basically working in tandem at this point. Oscar kicks away Crutchie’s crutch, then they both drag him away by his shoulders — Morris does kind of menace Crutchie with his baton, but he doesn’t hit him. Throughout the entire movie (and the bar is touching the ground), at no point do Morris or Oscar call Crutchie a slur.

the ableist slurs and behaviours by Morris in the stage musical were probably included because there are basically no other opportunities to show the Delancey’s villainy, since Sarah isn’t a character and Jack never works for Wiesel — in regards to Morris’ personality and writing him, it’s probably meant to showcase either a superiority complex, his sadism (as evident in the 1992 film), or the ‘survival of the fittest’ mentality referenced in his trading card bio.

basically, when writing Morris I’d pick and choose from every one of his showcased aspects between both iterations, and I wouldn’t fall into the trap of trying to make him so sympathetic that he’s OOC. he’s mean, confrontational, vindictive, petty, violent; he looks out for his brother, tries to be responsible, and doesn’t seem to hold a grudge (especially against Jack). of course, since he’s supposed to be a one-dimensional Disney villain, you have to add some depth by yourself. for example, I headcanon that he’s older than Oscar to add a kind of asshole older brother dynamic. honestly, you don’t have to consider every single bad thing he’s ever done in canon when writing him; imo writing Morris is harder than writing Oscar because, since Morris is more stoic and physical than Oscar, it’s much harder to try and imagine his motivations and thoughts, much less build a personality that’s redeemable. Just imagine canon Morris as the skeleton and then build on top of it; don’t take away what he is OR how he’s hurt other characters, but build on top of it. just be prepared to think up a metric fuckton of headcanons.

#c slur //#morris delancey #newsies #Anonymous

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turtle-steverogers · 5 years

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Marshmallow Madness

warnings: dumbassery

ships: platonic ralbert and mentioned sprace

editing: nah man

“Hey, Racer,” Race looked up from sticking a fresh marshmallow onto his stick to see Albert smirking at him, mouth covered in chocolate.

“What?” Race asked, idly hovering the now secured marshmallow over the fire.

Their little group had decided to go camping for the weekend in order to escape the stresses of school. Even though it was a short excursion, they made Davey and Katherine leave all their coursework at campus and opted to spend the weekend ‘off the grid’. The only means of communication they had to the outside world was an old flip-phone that they could use in cases of emergency, which Davey had already used twice to check in on Les. The weekend had gone on without a hitch. Jack and Race worked seamlessly together in order to cook easy and satisfying camp meals of walking tacos and hot dogs. Katherine and Spot had set up everyone’s tents and kept the camping area decently organized and mostly clean. Albert and Race had only managed to get lost while hiking twice and weren’t injured at all in the process, which was better than anyone could have hoped for. And now, as they approached the late hours of what would be there last night there, it was safe to say everyone was feeling thoroughly cleansed.

“I bet,” Albert said, licking chocolate off of his fingers and not bothering to wipe his face, “That you can’t eat ten roasted marshmallows in two minutes.”

Race’s eyes glinted, “Easy.”

Albert raised his eyebrows, “They have to be fully roasted and you gotta do it one at a time.”

Race simply took the marshmallow he was currently roasting out of the heat and blew on it once before popping it in his mouth, “Still easy,” he said through a mouthful of goo, “One down.”

Jack spoke up from the log he was sitting on, where he had been watching with an amused expression, “That one doesn’t count. You were already roasting it when Al started the bet.”

“Yeah, sorry Racer,” Albert said in a fake apologetic tone, “Gotta start new.”

Race rolled his eyes, “Fine. Who’s timing?”

“Here, I’ve got a watch,” Spot said, taking a bite of his own s’more and slipping off his wristwatch.

“Alright, ready?” Albert asked, leaning over to look at Spot’s watch. Race nodded, taking another marshmallow from the bag and putting it on his stick.

“Okay,” Albert said, “Go!”

Race didn’t hesitate to stick the marshmallow directly in the flame, effectively setting it on fire. It roasted quickly and he pulled it out of the firepit, letting it burn for a few moments before blowing on it to put it out. Immediately, he stuck the marshmallow in his mouth and started the process over. A minute and a half later, he had eaten his way through eight scorched marshmallows and was working on roasting a ninth. However the ninth one had been stubborn to the flame and took three tries to actually set on fire. So by the time Race was on his tenth, he had roughly 10 second left.

“Ten second mark,” Albert said, eyes not leaving Spot’s watch.

“Shit,” Race mumbled, eyes focused and frantic as the marshmallow caught on fire.

“Better hurry,” Spot chimed in, “Three, two….” Race let out a panicked hum and stuck the marshmallow in his mouth while it was still aflame.

His eyes widened in pain as Spot and Albert yelled, “One!” simultaneously.

Race’s mouth was still frozen around the marshmallow and there were tears of pain visible in his eyes.

“You did it! Wait- what the fuck?” Albert said, looking at Race for the first time, “Did you eat it while it was still on fire?”

Race nodded vigorously and Jack clicked his tongue, “Yeah, he did. Race, spit it out.”

“Buh den it wou’n’t count,” Race said, as he began to chew the now extinguished marshmallow. He swallowed painfully and stuck his tongue out, trying to alleviate the pain by sucking in cold air.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He panted, standing and fanning at his mouth with his hand, “Water, I need water.”

Albert and Spot were laughing now, taking in the scene of their best friend and boyfriend respectively. Katherine, Crutchie, and Davey emerged from one of the tents and froze when they saw Spot and Albert laughing at a clearly suffering Race.

“What the hell happened?” Crutchie asked incredulously.

“Race ate a marshmallow while it was still on fire,” Jack said, matter-of-factly.

“Just- just why?” Davey asked, disappointment at his friends’ idiocy written on his face. Katherine sighed and produced a water bottle from her sweatshirt pocket.

“We bet he couldn’t eat ten roasted marshmallows in two minutes and he was running out of time,” Spot supplied, wiping tears from his eyes. Race was now pouring the water Katherine had provided him directly on his tongue. Most of it was missing his mouth and spilling onto the front of his shirt.

“So close,” Katherine murmured quietly, “We were so close to having a weekend where nothing happened because of your dumb decisions.”

“Sorry, Kath,” Race breathed, tongue still hanging out of his mouth, “Chaos just seems to follow me.”

“It sure does, Racer,” Katherine said, smirking fondly, “It sure does.”

—

idiot boys

hmu if you wanna be added to my tag

thanks for reading, chiefs

TAG LIST:

@bencookisagod

@we-dont-sell-papes

@suddenly-im-respecsable

@aw-jus-let-em-try

@well-the-kids-do-too

@spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn

@thatpoorguysheadisspinning

@labert-dasilver

@andthewoildwillknow

@the-newsies-justice-for-zas-blog

@sunshine-e-cigarettes

@have-we-got-news-for-you

@musical-shitposts

@thebroadwayaesthetic

@thomasbeingthomas

@irondad-spiderson-duo

#newsies #racetrack higgins #newsies fic #albert dasilva #ralbert #spot conlon #chaotic boys #davey jacobs #jack kelly #sprace #katherine plumber #crutchie morris

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willyoushareyoursoulwithme · 6 years

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yo yo yo im a huge fan of your blog and i probably reblog too much of ur stuff and its probably annoying, and bc im too afraid to approach u im just gonna appear here as an anon and say hey i really like ur stuff, if you have time im always a slut for newsies headcanons involving crutchie, thank you goodnight

(sorry it took so long to answer!)

my dude (or girl or other affectionate term you prefer) rebloogging my stuff is never an issue! i’m so glad you like my blog!!! but don’t ever be afraid to approach me, i love talking to new people (even though i often get sidetracked and forget to respond lol)

and IM ALWAYS A SLUT FOR CRUTCHIE

but man oh man i’ve got so many headcanons about him and I’m sure i’ve shared them before sooooo let’s see if i can come up with a new one . . .

crutchie reall enjoys colouring things. sometimes he finds old children’s colouring books and spends a very long time on them. he doesnt think they compare in any way to jack’s artwork (they do, his understanding of colours is amazing) but sometimes the other newsies ask him if they can pin a picture he coloured above their bed. modern!crutchie really enjoys that sandbox colouring app.

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faeriejehan · 6 years

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whoaaa you're a musical theatre fan too?? INSTANT BUDDIES! what are your favorite musicals and why? for some, it has to do with music first, and storyline second; for others, it's the other way around... what got you into musicals? the one that spiraled my descent in MT madness was "She Loves Me," but my top top three are "Newsies," "Bandstand," and "Waitress." now, onto something poe related--which episode is your favorite? i honestly can't pick! there's somethin special about each one! ^^

hey musical theatre pal !! im definitely more story-oriented, and i first fell in love with musicals when i saw wicked at the age of 9. i went through a HUGE wicked phase that lasted for like 4 years. My current favorites are Les Miserables, Oklahoma!, Spring Awakening, Cabaret, Legally Blonde, the Drowsy Chaperone, Catch Me If You Can, etc, etc, etc. the list is endless honestly

i watched she loves me for the first time when it aired on pbs a few weeks ago !! it was outstanding, i can definitely see it becoming an obsession in the future

choosing just one poe party episode is sooo hard, but i have been rewatching it this week and i have to say ep 8 (the cask of amontillado) is my fave. i love the food metaphors, and the constables and sean are hilarious together! ooh but annabel lee is such a good episode too,,, im gonna say eps 8-10 are my personal favorites but really who can pick

#anonymous #secret santa asks :))#poe party secret santa

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ginnnys · 7 years

Text

Music Shuffle Tag

I was tagged by the lovely @fawxkes like forever ago but I’ve been incredibly stressed lately with school and my friends but I’m finally doing it

Rules: Put your music on shuffle and post the first 10 songs, then tag 10 people

i kind of just ut my favourite playlist into one playlist so there was a huge mix of like 400 songs so bear with me

1) You don’t know me -anyone who knows me knows i love shitty pop and dance music so this is right up my alley and its just such a catchy tune

2) be alright acoustic version - i’m not a fan of the original but i think this came up in my recommended songs and it turns out this version is actually very very good lol

3) Solo dance - i just added this song to my music so i dont know it at all but again its just really catchy pop so i like it

4) Seasons of love - a CLASSIC tbh.

5) starboy - i think im actally going to see the weekend this year so m real excited

6) party in the usa -i don’t really like this song but i have a certain playlist that i can’t not have it in so it stays i guess

7) waves - this song vividly reminds me of summer two years ago and i’m not sure if its a good memory of a bad one…

8) seize the day - My favourite album of all time shit i love newsies plaese watch the 1992 movie and then listen to the musical sound track and come talk to me about it. and someone help me i havent seen the live filmed movie and im dying

9) even my dad does sometimes - ive been listening to ed sheeran for lke 5 or 6 years now so i have a huge love for all of his songs i love this one too i mean its not it my top 10 or anything but i still he soft emotion in this one, and the whole x album tbh

10) scared to be lonely - hey would ya look more pop

ok i tag @iviliorate @capitolfalls @hellaredhair @pheonnixx @what-ifs-and-hope @dracomayflower @adashofdearbhla @daisychaingalaxy

#thank you for tagging and sorry i took so long xx #tagged

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wincestisasincest · 7 years

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Patrick? --- Part 2 (A Newsies Fan-fiction)

Hi! This is a two part fanfiction, so if you haven’t read the first part, read it here: https://twincestforthewincest.tumblr.com/post/161958254775/patrick-part-1-a-newsies-fan-fiction.

Now, on with the fanfiction!

Jacobi’s always had a sort of effect on people. The pressures and worries of the day drift into oblivion as soon as you enter the welcoming doors of the restaurant, especially if you happen to be a Manhattan newsie. They’d established yet another tradition at Jacobi’s, as it had become a hot-spot for all of the tired (and starving) boys to relieve their troubles.

The smell of food wafted over the energetic crowd of teenagers, who were busy discussing all that was to be discussed in the busy, busy, life of a newsie. Even though there was only about 7 or 8 newsies sitting around the table, their energy filled the entire room, making them seem like the audience for a concert, rather than a bunch of half-starved New Yorkers desperate for their food.

Jack Kelly sat at the head of the table, attentively observing, and occasionally participating in, the various witty remarks being exchanged among the group.

“I’m so hungry that I could eat an entire elephant!”

“I’m so hungry that I could eat two elephants!”

“I’m so hungry that I could eat an entire buffet, Vegas-style.”

“Nah, Race, they’d kick you outta Vegas for cheatin’.”

The table erupted into laughter, and even Race couldn’t hide his amusement, a small smile creeping onto his face. Jack let out a sigh, looking over the counter expectantly. He could appreciate that you can’t rush perfection, especially when it came to food, but given Jacobi’s current customers, perfection didn’t really have to be a priority.

The doors of the restaurant swung open.

This was a common occurrence at Jacobi’s, after all, it was a functioning restaurant, and did have customers besides the newsies, though it would be impossible to tell them that. Normally, Jack would allow the doors to swing open, always keeping the new arrivals in the corner of his eye, incase it was something indicative of acknowledgement. And Stitch, notably without Wax by her side, walking into the diner as though she was a regular there, was indicative of acknowledgement.

“’Ey, Stitch, ova here!” Jack’s hand, waving the leader of the Bronx over, was the only thing that could be seen above the crowd of pageboy caps. Eyes trained on Jack, Stitch made her way to the table, plopping into the seat adjacent to him.

“Evening, Cowboy,” She shot him a cocky smile before turning her attention to the counter, “’Ey, one float, please.”

“Whassa matta, you ain’t stayin for dinna?” Race had finally noticed her presence at the table, and thought best to draw everyone else to it with a sarcastic remark.

“’Fraid not, Race. ‘Ere on strict business.”

“’So strict ya walked all the way ta ‘hattan?” Jack reclaimed control of the conversation.

“Wanted ta ask ya about summin, Cowboy.” The clink of plates coming in contact with the table was the tell-tale signal that the newsboys had reached salvation. Without hesitation, and abandoning the usual custom of waiting until everyone was served, the newsboys dug into their meal, and no calorie was spared. The two leaders, on the other hand, kept their eyes trained on each other with the arrival of their respective orders.

“And what would dat be?” Jack eyed his food like a predator preparing to strike.

“Ya know dat question you asked ‘bout two nights ago. Poker night, I believe? About dat kid, Patrick?” Stitch took a long, deep, drink of her root beer float, and Jack took that as his queue to dive into his meal, albeit less carnivorously that the rest of the group.

“Yeah, I tink so. Why?”

“Well,” Stich took another sip, “I tink I might know someone dat matches your description. Thought you might be interested.” With that finishing sentence, Jack’s hand slowed to a halt, inches away from his sandwich. He gave Stich a curious look.

“Ya mean, ‘dere is a Patrick? Wassa kid like?”

“10 years old, ‘bout 5 ft., came to us a ‘lil less than a year ago, keeps mentionin’ his ma…”

“His ma? Dats definitely da one. Can ya bring ‘im here, maybe, I tink tomorrow-“

“Woah, hold it Cowboy,” Stitch took another nonchalant sip, “What exactly do ya have in mind for da kid? He is still a Bronx newsie, ya know.”

“Well,” Jack flashed a victorious smile, “If we’re talkin’ about who I tink we’re talkin’ about, we might be able ta get dis kid back with his ma.”

“His ma? You sure ya know what you’re talkin’ about, Cowboy? I mean, ‘dere’s a lotta Patricks in New York. What makes ya say we got da right one?”

“I- I dunno. Just a feelin’. But if you can bring dis kid wit you tomorrow, we can find out for sure.”

“I s’pose dere’s nutin to loose,” Jack bit into his sandwich, knowing that he’d won, while Stitch took another contemplative sip, “So I’ll se ya at da ‘hattan lodge. Before sellin’, or afta?”

“Before, be dere in time for da nuns.”

“Sure ting.” Stitch slammed a coin on the table, accompanying her empty glass, and picked herself up from the stool.

“And Cowboy,” Jack turned back to her, almost out of the door, “If dis just happens to be a wasta time, know dat me, and Patrick, will hold ya completely responsible.” The emphasis on the word ‘responsible’ ensured that there was no doubt of receiving one of Stitch’s mythical beatings.

“Deal.”

The door slammed behind Stitch, and Jack wasted no time into completely demolishing his sandwich. There was a brief moment of silence, where every newsboy at the table was so, completely, absorbed in their food that they forgot to create the ruckus that they had become known for. Race was the first to break this.

“So… I guess dere is a Patrick?” he turned to Jack.

“Dere is?!” one of the younger voices shot up from the small group.

“Ya know what dat means, right Race?” Jack’s winning smile hadn’t faded, “Guess ya can’t win every bet, eh?”

Race couldn’t hear Jack’s last comment, as he was too busy rummaging through his pockets for spare change.

-Time skip brought to you by ‘Objecting on the grounds of Brooklyn’ being totally legit in a legal scenario-

The streets were filled with the typical morning rush of the Manhattan newsies. The finish line for their incredibly unfair and fruitless race was the nuns, at the end of the street, as per usual. And, as per usual, Jack continued to take his sweet time walking down the street. This time, however, he was flanked by Stitch, and the legendary boy that had haunted the mornings of every Manhattan newsie since the wayward mother appeared last year.

Patrick was scruffy, with tangled brown hair barely covering his dull green eyes, though it perfectly complemented his torn clothing and shoes with half of a sole left in each of them. It was strange for most of the newsboys, as they had never pictured that this tradition-status person would have any corporeal form at all. Patrick had gone from being a collection of scattered thoughts into an actual human being, and it gave off an awkward aura, to say the least.

“Well, Pat, waddya tink?” Jack attempted to make conversation with him, attempting to lighten the mood. Stitch had already informed him that Patrick had his doubts about the whole situation, and Jack couldn’t argue with that. ‘A feeling’ isn’t really a sound logical base, after all.

“Name’s Puck. And I tink dat dis is a loada dog crap.” Patrick didn’t even turn to look at Jack, and he didn’t need to. Jack already picked up that he was in a bad mood.

“Well, Puck, what if it ain’t?” Jack had to show some restraint. He didn’t want to a deliver a mother her child with a black eye.

“If it ain’t, den you can have all a my papes for de rest a my life as a newsie.”

“Which’ll be around 0.” Stitch’s snide remark served the remind the two that they weren’t the only people in the street, and that they did have actual business to attend to.

“Exactly.”

Patrick shoved his hands in his pockets, and the group went silent, as the neared the cart. There was the typical line up of newsies, reaching their hands out expectantly, some of them already enjoying the fresh bread and water. Jack could feel his stomach tighten. The moment was near.

“Patrick?”

The trio shoved their way through the forest of starving boys, earning a couple of annoyed glances, and even one push back. Jack impatiently peered over the head of Romeo, and could see their regular, Patrick’s ma, just over the brim of his hat.

“Darling?”

She hopelessly searched the crowd, having more luck parting the newsboys, as they were all reminded of the inkling of pity that they felt for this mother when they saw her typical messy hair and stained apron. Jack finally managed to push Romeo aside, himself almost falling over.

“Hey, ‘scuse you!” he picked himself back up, angrily facing jack, who took no notice, “What’s the big idea? I oughtta-“

“Ma?”

There was not one person there that day that didn’t give at least a sideways glance, as Patrick stood about a foot away, the closest they had been in a year, from his mother. He stared directly at her, observing everything, from her messy hair, to her stained apron, to her kind eyes, that he thought that he didn’t remember.

Patrick’s ma looked at him for second, almost in disbelief, trying to take in the situation. She, too, was observing the young street scamp in front of her, his tangled hair, his ruined clothes, and his expression, which she had a distinct, and sometimes emotional, recollection of.

“Patrick?”

The two stood there, frozen, and looking at each other. It was the longest time that the newsboys had ever been silent.

Without any warning, Patrick’s ma rushed towards him, hugging her son, tears falling down her face. Patrick’s expression of shock hadn’t wavered, but slowly, it morphed into a small smile, as he hugged his mother back.

“Oh my lord, I thought you were dead, I-“ Patrick’s ma continued fussing over her son, while some of the newsboys recovered from their suspended positions, and returned to receiving their breakfast. Tears were welling in Patrick’s eyes, but he kept holding them back, refusing to cry in front of the other newsboys, and his leader.

“Well, I tink dis counts as not dog crap.” Stitch appeared by Jack’s side, arms crossed, snapping him back to reality. By now, most of the newsboys had continued with their morning routine, and you would’ve never guessed that there was a family reunion happening in the middle of the sweaty, smelly, and still tired crowd.

“Yeah, I tink so.” Jack still hadn’t taken his eyes off the mother and her son, who was now reminding Patrick of his family. A tear had carved a pathway through the dirt on Patrick’s face, though he was quick to wipe it away.

“Let’s go home.” The mother embraced her son even tighter before releasing him. And, side by side, they parted with the newsboys. As they made their way up the street, Patrick turned around to face Jack and Stich, mouthing ‘thank you’.

“Kinda scary, ain’t it?” Stitch elbowed Jack, once again pulling him from the moment.

“What is?” The mother and Patrick became smaller and smaller.

“We did a good ting.” Stitch, arms crossed once again, faced Jack directly.

“How’s dat scary?” Patrick and his mother had disappeared into the New York buzz. Jack turned, returning Stitch’s conversational stare.

“I dunno, just kinda weird to be reminded dat dere’s still good in da world, just neva happens ta us,” Stitch sighed, “And it’s a bit odd, I neva tought one a my boys would leave. Dey usually leave when dey go off ta college, or dey get so old dat we gotta kick ‘em out.”

“Whaddya mean, ya miss ‘em already?”

“Nah, Patrick didn’t do much. I don’t know if anyone will notice, ta be honest. Jus weird, ya know?”

“I do now. But you’re right about da good ting. Dat’s what makes a newsie! ‘Least a ‘hattan one.” As any good newsie knows, you cannot meet a newsie from another borough without taking a jab at them.

“Yeah, you’re right,” the buildup was eminent in Stitch’s voice, “Bronx newsies are pretty different. We actually sell our papes. See ya round, Cowboy.”

Before Jack could even begin to process a rejoinder, Stitch had disappeared behind a building. Jack took one final look at the street, with no trace of Patrick or his mother, and finally took his place in front of the cart, receiving the stale, but still fresher than the rest of it, bread. As he bit into his breakfast, he contemplated the strange break in tradition, knowing that tomorrow, Patrick’s ma wouldn’t be coming. An unusual fault in the seemingly natural order that had been set for the newsies.

Jack noticed the thinning crowd around him, as the newsies began to herd themselves to Wiesel’s. Jack crammed the last of the bread in his mouth and began to follow, nearly forgetting about Patrick, as he continued on with his daily routine.

#newsies #newsies musical #newsies movie #newsies fanfiction #original character #original female character #please read this #jack kelly #patrick

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turtle-steverogers · 6 years

Text

Let It Out

I don’t hurt Spot enough compared to Race and Al so here

Ship: Sprace

Warnings: Mentions of death

Race stood at the stove, lazily stirring the saucepan filled with alfredo sauce as spaghetti boiled in the pot next to it. Spot was supposed to be home by now, but he’d sent a text about an hour ago letting Race know he was caught up with a last minute call. The sauce slowly thickened to the right consistency and Race moved the pan off the heat. He quickly drained the pasta, then combined it with the sauce and dumped it into a dish. He set it onto a hot plate and was just setting two bowls out for him and Spot, when the apartment door opened. Race glanced up to see Spot closing the door behind him, dropping his EMT bag as he did so.

Race could tell immediately something was off. Spot didn’t come over and greet him with a kiss like he usually did and he kept his eyes trained on the floor as he made his way to the bathroom. He didn’t say a word to Race as he locked the door and turned on the fan, leaving the latter standing confused and concerned in the kitchen doorway.

Not long after, Race heard the shower turn on. Figuring that he was just tired, Race went back to the living room to watch TV as he waited for his boyfriend to rejoin him. Thirty minutes passed and the shower was still running. Worry bubbled in

Race’s stomach and he walked over to the bathroom, knocking lightly. Spot didn’t answer and Race reached down to try the doorknob, but it was locked.

He knocked again, harder this time, “Spot? You alright in there?”

No answer, “Spot? Baby? Can you hear me?”

Race began to panic when Spot there was still no response and he rushed to his desk drawer to get a paper clip. Thanks to the countless times he and Albert had broken into various places, he was able to pick the lock fairly quickly. He bust into the bathroom to find Spot, hunched against the wall, shirtless. The shower was still running and it looked like he had made an attempt to get in, but gave up halfway through. His knees were drawn up to his chest and his hands were tangled in his hair. He was staring at the ground under his feet with a blank, haunted look in his eyes. He didn’t seem to notice that Race had come in.

“Spot?” Race said softly, kneeling down in front of the other man, “Love, what’s happening?”

Spot shook his head, still not meeting Race’s concerned gaze, “She- I…” he trailed off and pulled at his hair.

“Hey,” Race murmured, reaching up to carefully maneuver Spot’s hands away from his head, “Talk to me.”

Spot finally looked at Race, tears filling up his eyes, “It was a little kid-that last call. She was running with scissors and she tripped. Got her right in the chest-“ Spot’s voice cracked and he closed his eyes, “It was already over when we got there. We still tried everything we could but-“ he shook his head, shoving a fist in his mouth to hold in the sobs that were threatening to escape him.

Race’s legs felt numb as he processed the information Spot had just given him. It was disturbing enough to hear it, he couldn’t imagine how Spot felt having lived it.

“It’s okay to cry you know,” Race said, pulling Spot’s fist away from his mouth and interlacing their fingers.

Spot’s face screwed up and he pressed his other hand to his eyes, “I didn’t even know her. I don’t get why it hurts to much.”

“You saw her pass, Spot,” Race said, “You’re allowed to mourn.”

Spot finally gave in, allowing the tears to escape his eyes. Race pulled him to his chest, kissing his hair and whispering reassurances as Spot released the pent up emotions from that night’s events.

Eventually his breathing returned to normal and he pulled back, “M’sorry.”

“Hey, no,” Race said, tilting Spot’s head up to look at him, “Never apologize for that. You went through something traumatic, you’re allowed to be upset.”

Spot nodded, but didn’t say anything further.

“Are you hungry?” Race asked gently.

“I don’t think I can stomach food right now,” Spot said, scrubbing a hand down his face.

“Okay, that’s fine, love. Why don’t you take a shower and then we can go from there?”

“Okay.”

Race left the bathroom as Spot pulled himself to his feet. Twenty minutes later, Spot quietly entered their shared bedroom, crawling into bed next to Race. Race clicked off his phone and placed it on the bedside table, then opened his arms and allowed Spot to nestle into his chest.

“How’re you holding up?”

He felt Spot shrug, “I’m holding.”

“Would you like to sleep?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Race ghosted his lips across Spot’s forehead, “Alright baby, I’m here for you.”

“Thanks, Racer. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

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#newsies #newsies fic #racetrack higgins #spot conlon #sprace

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