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violetwolfraven · 4 years

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Marked For You

((Am I writing a post-strike javid soulmates AU with several background ships? Possibly! No one asked for this but y’all can’t stop me.))

...

Davey liked to think that being among the Newsies, he was bolder than before. He didn’t scare as easily and he wasn’t afraid to stand up for what he believed in or be himself unapologetically.

After all, that was what all the Newsies were; themselves. They didn’t care what each other thought, not that any of them ever seemed to seriously judge the others. Each Newsie was openly himself or herself, plain and simple.

This kind of unjudging openness that Davey knew and loved didn’t mean he wasn’t shocked as hell when he and some of the fellas were talking, like they did practically every day, and the conversation turned to soulmates and soulmarks.

Soulmarks were a stripe of color on the inside of your wrist, said to be the color that represented who your soulmate was on a fundamental level. Their soul-color.

Davey’s soulmark was a bright, clear blue, like the sky on a clear summer day.

To be fair, the person Davey had been before meeting the Newsies probably would have completely freaked out at what the fellas were talking about. Davey managed to only be moderately surprised and kind of confused.

Because Race was talking about how his soulmark was dark red, the same color as Spot’s favorite shirt, and it just represented him so well and—

“Hold up,” Davey interrupted, “Your soulmate is Spot Conlon?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Are... are you sure?”

“Of course. Um... it’s not a new thing. We’s both known for months.”

All the fellas had guarded looks on their faces. Like they didn’t known how Davey was going to react and it scared them.

Davey had, of course, heard of people having same-sex soulmates. Most people seemed to regard it as wrong for some reason, but...

No one chose their soulmates. All scientists seemed to agree on that.

So why should something you had no control over be regarded as wrong, especially when soulmates were the kind of love that made each other happy?

Now that Davey was thinking about it, blue wasn’t a common color documented to represent a girl.

The idea of his soulmate being a boy didn’t freak him out as much as it probably should.

“I didn’t think the King of Brooklyn was the lovin’ type.”

Everyone visibly relaxed.

“You’d be surprised,” Race said with an uncharacteristically soft smile, “He kinda freaked out on me at first, but we talked it over after he got some time to process, we’s been together nearly a year now, and... he’s good to me.”

“He better be,” Romeo said, “Or Manhattan’d go to war.”

Albert snorted, “Half the Newsies of New York would. Racer, ya got a shit ton of friends.”

“Heh. True. There might actually be enough of ya to stand a chance against Brooklyn.”

“Bold of ya to assume half the Brooklyn boys wouldn’t be on your side,” Jojo pointed out.

Davey had to admit, he couldn’t think of a single Newsie who wouldn’t beat up someone stupid enough to break Race’s heart.

Ike shrugged, “Hotshot’d probably side with Spot. Sorry, Race. Oh! Davey, Hotshot’s mine, by the way.”

Ike showed his red soulmark, a brighter scarlet than Race’s. Hell, the thing was so bright, it practically glowed in the late afternoon sun.

Seeing Mike’s, which was electric blue, Davey wondered how he’d ever had trouble telling the twins apart.

Mike noticed him looking and grinned, throwing an arm around Jojo, who blushed a little. His soulmark was an almost-golden shade of yellow that Davey had to admit suited Mike well.

Of course, it did make him curious, how he’d always heard of people with same-sex soulmates as a rarity, an anomaly that barely ever happened.

And here was 6 that he knew personally. Probably more, now that he was thinking about it, looking back on the way certain pairs of his friends acted.

“How common is it?” he asked finally, “I always heard of same-sex soulmates as rare, but—“

Blink snorted, “It ain’t. Not as much as they’d have ya believe, anyhow.”

His fingers brushed over a mint green soulmark gently.

“Yeah, mine’s Finch,” Albert said, displaying a mark the color of sage.

Romeo grinned, showing his, which was an indigo halfway between blue and purple, “Take a guess.”

Looking back on casual touches that weren’t as hidden as they probably should be, for safety reasons, Davey realized that he was an idiot for not having realized it sooner.

“Specs?”

“Bingo! Ya got in in one!”

“And Blink... I’m guessin’... Mush?”

Blink shrugged sheepishly.

Davey really felt like an idiot for not fully registering until right now how defensive, tough Kid Blink was soft and gentle with Mush in a way he wasn’t with anyone—not even the littles.

“What about you?” Romeo asked, “Ya know who yours is, yet?”

Davey shrugged helplessly, “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Well, show us the mark!” Ike urged, “We can’t guess if we don’t see the color!”

The others voiced their agreement until Davey extended his forearm towards them.

Honestly, his was probably the brightest and most defined of any of them, besides Ike’s.

Everyone went silent, and Davey knew his friends well enough to know that they weren’t quiet simply because they were thinking.

They knew something he didn’t.

“What?” he finally asked after a good 20 seconds.

“Ya really don’t see it?” Mike asked.

“I don’t think he does,” Albert admitted, stealing Race’s cigar.

Race stole the cigar back, “Tragic.”

“What do you all see that I don’t?”

“Ya know, it took me a while to figure out mine,” Jojo admitted, “I was raised to think lovin’ a boy would land ya in hell. But I still knew within a couple weeks, if ya don’t count how long it took me to accept it. Honestly, Davey, you’s known him for months. How haven’t ya realized yet?”

“You mean it’s one of the Newsies?”

Everyone groaned.

“Davey, who’s the one person who pops into your head when you think ‘bout love?” Romeo asked, “Just off the top of your head?”

Davey didn’t want to admit who his first thought was.

“I don’t know,” he lied, “In my defense, I didn’t even consider it bein’ a boy before today.”

“When ya find your soulmate, you know,” Blink said firmly, “It’s undeniable. Ya don’t know how ya know, but ya do. If you’s felt that and seen that color and still don’t know who it is, you’s the biggest dumbass in New York.”

Romeo swatted in Blink’s direction, “Lighten up, Blink. It’s cute in a frustratin’ kind of way.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t tell him,” Ike said mischeviously, “This is better’n watchin’ Race pine over Spot and yet not tell him that the light blue on his wrist is him.”

Race rolled his eyes, “Like you tellin’ Hotshot right outta the gate worked. He avoided ya for 6 months after findin’ out that stupid purple mark was you.”

“It ain’t that purple, Racer. It’s mostly blue.”

“Still don’t go with Brooklyn’s red shirts all that well.”

Davey ignored the others breaking up the budding argument in favor of trying to think. One face did pop into his mind whenever he thought about love, but there was no way he was that lucky.

“Think, Davey,” Jojo urged as soon as the group got back on track.

“Yeah,” Race agreed, “Who’s the one person with a soul like the sky?”

Davey really didn’t want to admit it, but he knew.

The sky was always there when you looked up to see it as Jack Kelly was always there for his friends when they needed him.

“Jack,” he whispered, and the others grinned.

“So, what are ya waitin’ for?” Mike asked, “Go get the boy!”

“I can’t,” Davey protested, “He might be my soulmate, but there’s no way I’m his! He’s courted Sarah and Katherine!”

“That ain’t how it works, Davey,” Blink said, “Yeah, Jack courted Katherine and Sarah, but do ya really think that periwinkle stripe on Kath’s wrist is for him? Or the pinkish-red on Sarah’s, huh? That’s real Jack-like, is it?”

“Just cause Sarah or Kath ain’t Jack’s soulmate doesn’t mean his is a boy,” Davey pointed out, “Jack doesn’t even like boys!”

Albert rolled his eyes, “Ya really think that?”

“I know he don’t.”

“Davey, let me tell ya somethin’,” Ike said, “Just cause Jack likes girls don’t mean he doesn’t like boys. It ain’t gotta be one or the other.”

“Ya think I only flirt with one?” Romeo asked.

Now that Davey was thinking about it, Romeo and Race pretty much flirted with everyone.

Race laughed, “I don’t think we’s ever told him that Jack and Spot was a thing, did we?”

“They what now?”

“It didn’t last long,” Romeo laughed, “Barely a week, and I thinks it was just angrily makin’ out, but it happened.”

“That was a weird week,” Jojo agreed.

“He had a crush on Specs a few years ago,” Ike added, “That was ‘fore Romeo came along, of course.”

Mike started laughing even harder than he already was, making Jojo smile all sappy at him, “I remember that!”

Davey tried to process this new information.

“Point is,” Blink said, “Jack likes girls and boys. And we’s known him a lot longer than you.”

“The color on his wrist definitely ain’t for Kath or Sarah,” Race summed up.

“What... what is it?”

Race patted his knee, “For that answer, you’ll have to ask Jackie Boy, himself.”

“Ask me what?”

The other boys exchanged delighted glances as Jack walked in, a bit of paint on his cheek from spending some time at Medda’s theatre.

“Look at the time,” Jojo said, ignoring the fact that he did not have a watch, “I think we’d best be gettin’ to bed.”

Mike raised an eyebrow suggestively, making Jojo swat his arm in exasperation, but the two of them left in the same direction, hand in hand.

“Just remembered,” Race said, popping to his feet, “I told Spot I’d spend the night in Brooklyn. Gotta go if I wanna not be walkin’ in the dark.”

“Mind if I come with?” Ike asked.

“The more the merrier! I’m sure Hotshot’ll be happy to see ya.”

“Make good choices,” Jack said pointedly, but he didn’t stop them, indicating that those pairings really had been going on for a while.

God, how many times had Ike or Race or both blatantly said they were going to Brooklyn when they left a card game or hangout? How was Davey just noticing this now?

Blink, Albert, and Romeo quickly made up bullshit excuses to leave.

Davey didn’t miss how Romeo mouthed a quick ‘good luck’ to him as he went out the door.

Unfortunately, neither did Jack.

“So, what’s that about?” he asked, seeming more amused than suspicious or anything.

“We was just talkin’ about something,” Davey said, feeling strangely awkward.

“What kind of somethin’?”

“Um... soulmates. That kind of thing.”

“Oh.”

The air between them was charged suddenly.

“What about ‘em?” Jack asked, sitting down next to Davey.

“Um...” Davey took a deep breath, “About how they think they know who mine is.”

Jack didn’t look him in the eye, and his response was almost too quiet to hear.

“Who?”

For some reason, Davey couldn’t outright just say it.

He turned his wrist so that Jack could see his mark, bright, vibrant blue.

He thought maybe something like recognition flashed through the other boy’s eyes.

“It’s someone who’s always there when the people he loves need him,” Davey said softly, “You know how you can always look up and see the sky if ya need to? He’s like that.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s one of the things I like most about him.”

“What if he wasn’t?” Jack muttered, “What if there was a day the people he loved needed to see the sky more than ever and it wasn’t there?”

Davey remembered the terror after the first day of the strike. Crutchie was arrested, everyone was hurt, and few of the fellas were still MIA. Davey only had a few bruises, so he and a couple others had had to go find them.

Davey remembered finding Elmer unconscious in an alley. He remembered Buttons’s worry when he managed to wake him up and drag him back to the Lodging House, how panicked he’d obviously been, and now was wondering if those two had something going on.

That day, everyone had needed Jack, and he wasn’t there. That was true. They’d had to rely on Davey and Race and whoever else was unhurt enough to help them, then later, Katherine, when she showed up and nobody asked how she got that much medical supplies.

But every other day since then that Davey had been with the Newsies, Jack had been there, tirelessly comforting his friends after bad dreams, patching up scraped knees, making sure everybody had food in their stomachs and a roof over their heads. And he didn’t always have enough time to take care of everyone, but he sure did his damn best.

Davey reached over and intertwined Jack’s fingers with his own.

To his relief, the other boy squeezed back, just a little.

“Maybe he needs to take care of himself, too, once in a while,” he said, “Maybe everyone survived without the sky for a little bit, so there was no harm done. And Jackie... that was months ago. It doesn’t change the fact that you’ve been there every day since long before the strike and every day since then.”

Jack was silent for a second before he exhaled sharply and shoved his arm in Davey’s direction.

The strip of color on his wrist was clear blue. It was the sky on ice cold clear winter days. It was the cover of a book with characters you could relate to. It was a shade of paint Davey had seen in Jack’s backdrops many times.

Davey didn’t really know why, but the color was undeniably him.

“Jack...”

Jack looked at him, his eyes as soft as the tone in Davey’s voice.

“I knew since day one.”

“Why didn’t ya say anything?”

“I didn’t wanna scare you.”

Davey laughed, “Jack Kelly, if there is one thing you’ve never been to me, it’s scary.”

It was true. Jack had always felt safe, even when Davey was trying to avoid him out of pride.

Unfortunately, safe was the last thing whatever this thing between them was.

“How does it work?”

“What?”

“How does it work?” Davey repeated, “How do they do it? Race and Spot. Mike and Jojo. Blink and Mush. All the other pairs.”

“They be careful,” Jack answered, “If needed, the rest of us try and help cover for ‘em.”

“Can you be careful?”

A smile formed on Jack’s lips, “I know you can... how do ya think I stayed out of the Refuge so long after escapin’?”

Davey rolled his eyes. Jack still liked to bring up his grand escape.

“Hey, Davey... can I try something?”

Davey’s heart was in his throat. His chest was so tight he could barely breathe.

Still, he nodded.

Blink had said that when you met your soulmate, you knew.

Davey didn’t think he’d known before now. At least, not consciously.

But he definitely knew now, because it felt right. He knew because Jack’s lips against his own was the most natural thing in the world.

He didn’t think he’d ever want to kiss anyone else.

He didn’t know how he hadn’t always known that Jack was his soulmate.

Because the color on his wrist was Jack, and the color in Jack’s was him. They were quite literally made for each other.

#newsies #livesies #newsies the broadway musical #javid #javey #jack kelly #davey jacobs #soulmates au #soulmate identifying marks #background ships #sprace #ikeshot #jomike #blush newsies #redfinch #spromeo #implied newsbians #implied belmerttons #violet’s writing

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orangecrane · 4 years

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no fault of mine (ch. 2)

Part 2 of a request by @violetwolfraven

Part 1

A/N: So this certainly got out of hand... I think I’ve got one more scene or so that I’d want to write for this if y’all are interested that would mainly be the aftermath of all this so lmk if you’d wanna see that. Also if you need something else tagged please let me know. Cross-posted on Ao3.

CW: Mild injury (you don’t actually see someone get hurt), Swearing

Race froze. Inhaled sharply. What? There’s- there’s no way, he must’ve misheard. His ears were just playing tricks on him.

“Spot’s in the refuge?” His voice broke. Tears stung his eyes.

Flicker, upon seeing Race’s reaction, seemed like he’d rather be anywhere but there. “Yeah,” he winced, “but you can’t go spreading it around, I wasn’t supposed to tell you in the first place.”

The words swam around Race’s head, he barely heard a thing after Flicker confirmed one of his worst nightmares. Spot was in the refuge. Spot could be hurt. Bad. Race had had no idea. Race had been upset with Spot for something that wasn’t his fault. That was an idea that was going to hurt later. Hell, that hurt now. Spot hadn’t forgotten or wanted to break up with Race. That idea hurt a lot less. So that’s what he chose to focus on.

Race shook himself from his thoughts, this was fixable. This wasn’t a fucktangular mess of emotions, this was a tangible problem that had a solution. A solution that didn’t involve breaking up with Spot and breaking his own heart in the process, People could be busted out of the refuge. Jack had done it before and so had some of the other boys. They could do the same for Spot. Hopefully. “What are you doing to get him out?” Race demanded.

“What?”

“What are you doing to break him out of the Refuge? Manhattan-” Wait, maybe he shouldn’t promise all of Manhattan’s help without first asking them, “-I can help.”

“We’ve tried a few things but none ‘ave worked so far.”

“Let me talk to Hotshot then.”

Flicker hesitated before nodding and opening the door to allow Race inside. He gestured for Race to stay in the entrance while he left to go track down Brooklyn’s second.

When Hotshot arrived, dragged along by a very determined red-head, he took one look at Race before turning to Flicker in exasperation.

“You told him?”

Flicker spluttered. “Nevermind, we’ll discuss that later, for now,” Hotshot turned to Race, “Brooklyn can handle itself.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t, wouldn’t I, of all people know that? I just wanna get Spot out as soon as possible.”

Hotshot gave Race an appraising look. “Well, what’ve you got then?”

“Let me talk to my boys and I’ll be back by tomorrow noon with a plan.” Race didn’t know how he’d kept his composure this long. He desperately wanted to cry, the unfairness of it all tore his insides to shreds. But he had spent enough time wallowing in pain, admittedly a different pain, but it was time that could have been used helping Spot so Race was going to hit the ground running. Who knew what had happened to Spot since he’d been locked up?

Hotshot glanced around, taking in some of the reactions of some of his fellow newsies before deciding. “All right Higgins. Talk to Manhattan and see what you can come up with.”

Race nodded. Then he turned and nearly sprinted out the door. Oh, he was going to Manhattan alright, but he had somewhere more important to visit first.

---

Race was out of breath by the time he arrived at the Refuge. Running a frankly unreasonable distance and fast as one could tended to do that to you. He took a second to catch his breath and formulate his plan of how to get to the window and get Spot’s attention. His thoughts on the way there had been nothing but a constant stream of Spot Spot Spot and he hadn’t been able to think of less important things, like how he was actually going to get Spot’s attention and talk to him, or how he was going to avoid getting caught.

He eventually comes to the conclusion that he could probably climb the drain pipe and perch on the small ledge of the window and use either the pipe or the metal bars for balance. Yeah, that’d work. And with both things to hold on to he wouldn’t fall. Hopefully. So that’s what he did.

Race waited until the coast was relatively clear and shimmied up the pipe closest to a bunk room, it was harder to keep a grip on than he expected but he made it without falling. The creak the drain let out as he partially swung himself to the ledge was concerning, but again, nothing came of it.

Once precariously balanced on the ledge and clinging to the bars, he did his best to get someone’s attention. The boy who noticed him looked to be no older than Les. It made Race’s anger simmer beneath his skin and his grip tightened around the cool metal. He hated this place, no one deserved to be here, especially kids that young. He knew from experience. Race quietly asked the boy to find Spot and bring him there, and wished he had the forethought to bring food or something, both for Spot and the other children who clearly needed it.

Race quickly glanced around the street below, trying to gauge if anyone had noticed him. Thankfully he still seemed to be under (or in the case, over) the radar. He kept scanning until he was ripped from his thoughts.

“Racer?”

Race whipped around to find none other than Spot Conlon. He tried to check over as much of the boy as possible, he looked a little worse for wear, but the Refuge would do that to anyone, and Race couldn’t see any clear injuries besides a bruise or two from where he crouched. “Spot,” Race breathed out, relief overtaking him.

“Racer what’re you doin’ here? You’se could get in real trouble.” Spot was clearly concerned. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “And how d’you know I was here in the first place?”

“Your boys gave you up, Conlon.” Race’s attempt to be lighthearted found moderate success. “‘Sides, they probably knew I’d tear the whole city apart lookin’ for ya if they didn’t. I was pretty upset when I got down there.”

Race removed one hand from the bars to scratch the back of his neck, then popped his fingers against his jaw.

Spot winced. “I thought I’d be out a bit sooner than this an’ I didn’t want you to worry.”

Race met his eyes, for all the world looking like a broken boy, “There’s a lot worse things to be than worried, Spot.” They both looked away, Race to the street once again. Neither spoke for a minute, until Race broke the silence.

“So, how’d you wind up in here anyways?” He still didn’t look at Spot.

“One a’ my kids picked the wrong pocket and had a run in wit’ the bulls. I had to intervene and give him an opportunity to run, but by the time he was gone I wasn’t quite in good enough shape to get away myself.”

Race turned back and looked Spot in the eyes. He was remorseful. “‘M sorry about our date, by the way. Promise I’ll make it up to you once I’m out.”

Race’s chest felt tight at that. Spot really did care. And Race was going to break him out no matter what.

Suddenly a door bangs somewhere behind Spot. He glanced behind himself, panicked, before turning back to Race. “You gotta get outta here ‘fore Snyder sees ya. We’ll see eachother soon.”

Spot shut the window.

Race managed to maneuver his way back over to the drain pipe and slide down without getting anyone’s attention. Now he just had to get back to the lodging house and let everyone know what was going on. Race thought back to the young boy who he’d seen earlier. Maybe Spot wasn’t the only one they would help.

They’d see eachother sooner than Spot thought, though, Race would make sure of that.

---

Race burst through the lodging house door, gasping for breath. He really needed to learn to take his time getting to places. Most of the boys looked up from where they were lounging around. Finch, Specs, Elmer, and Romeo were all having a discussion by the window while Mike, Ike, Blink, Henry, and Albert played some card game on the floor while a few other boys watched. Jack and Davey were huddled in a corner talking in hushed tones.

“We need to plan a heist!”

Just about everyone rolled their eyes and went back to what they were doing, Albert included. Race was a little offended.

“And what might this heist be for?” Romeo inquired. Race knew there was a reason he was his favorite.

Race was glad someone enjoyed his theatrics. “The prize being my boyfriend, and if possible, as many other kids in the refuge as we can!”

That got the room's attention. “Wait what?” Jack sputtered.

“Spot’s in the Refuge and we need to get him out, and I figured why not bust everyone else out as well. They can’t stop all of us.”

“Woah, back up a second,” Albert said, “Spot’s in the Refuge?”

Race met his eyes guiltily. “Yeah, an’ I’m not leaving him there to rot, or any of those other kids, so I’m bustin’ them out, whether you guys are with me or not. It’d be a lot easier if you were with me though.”

Race was determined. He remembered his time in the Refuge and he’s sure the other newsies did too. He wouldn’t blame them if they didn’t want to risk getting caught or bringing up old memories. It was why he hadn’t gone there since he was released, at least until today that was. But those old memories only fueled his determination. He’d hidden from the place of his nightmares for so long, as many did, but in the process allowed it to continue to hurt innocent kids. Kids like him. Spot’s imprisonment was the kick in the pants he needed. That ended tomorrow.

Everyone could see the fire in Race’s eyes.

“That’s a stupid idea Racer, a jailbreak? Really?” Romeo piped up.

“You’re one ta talk,” Finch scoffed.

Race glanced around the room. Most of the boys seemed hesitant. But hesitation was not a ‘no’ and he could work with that. He looked to Jack.

“Whaddaya say Jack?”

Jack was conflicted. “‘F you got a plan Racer, I’ll listen.”

And that was all he needed.

Race explained the basics of his idea to everyone, taking input from those who had it (Jack, Davey, Specs, and Finch) and ignoring the heckling and jokes from those who had them (Mike, Ike, and Romeo). In the end, Jack, Albert, Finch, and Kid Blink agreed to help him with the plan. They spent the next few hours strategizing and hammering out the details until Kloppman came and sent them all to bed.

---

Race got ready for bed, nervous for the coming day. This was a huge risk and one thing going wrong could end poorly for so many people. He lied awake, running through every possible scenario of how this could go wrong.

“I kinda feel like I owe Spot an apology. I know I didn’t do anything to him, but still…” Albert’s voice came from the bed below.

The sick feeling from earlier returned full force. The guilt wracked his body. Race had been so mad at Spot. He’d been willing to break up with him over this. Over something that wasn’t his fault. If only Race had known, he could've- he could’ve-

“Racer I can hear ya thinkin’ a mile a minute, come down here an’ talk to me.”

Race climbed down the ladder and into Albert’s bunk, immediately wrapping his arms around his friend and burying his head in his chest. He was shaking.

“I was so upset with him,” Race said shakily. Albert took a deep breath and started running his fingers through Race’s hair in a calming gesture.

“And you thought he was ignoring you, I’d be more concerned if you weren’t upset.”

Race sniffled. “You don’t get it, I- I was ready to…” Race trailed off. “But it wasn’t his fault.”

“Well how were you supposed to know that?”

Race gave Albert an inquisitive glance. He continued, “I mean, you had no way of knowing he was in the Refuge and the Brooklyn newsies certainly weren’t forthcoming with information. You were right to be upset given the circumstances. Hell, I was upset on your behalf. But now we know better and aren’t mad anymore. This whole thing is a mess but it isn’t really anyone’s fault and you just have to accept that.”

Huh, Race forgot that Albert could be pretty smart when he wanted to be. He’s suddenly very glad that Albert and him are friends, he doesn’t know what he would do without him. He should also work on remembering that Al is a good friend and that isn’t something to take for granted.

“You’re my best friend Albie,” Race said snuggling closer to the other boy.

Albert snorted. “Don’t I know it, no one else would put up with your needy ass. But you’re my best friend to Racer.”

Race drifted to sleep, more confident in himself and ever grateful for his best friend. They’d get Spot out tomorrow no matter what, even if it was just him and Albert, because Albert always had his back, and together? Together, Race believed, they could do just about anything.

---

The next day everyone was jittery while at distribution. Trying not to seem suspicious but not exactly succeeding. Those who were helping in what Race had dubbed ‘The Heist’ were shifting around, trying to not let their nervousness shine through. The whole plan could go horribly wrong. They could all end up in the Refuge, or worse. But if it went right? Not only would they free Spot, but they’d help so many other kids who have been locked away and hurt by those who should never have been given that power.

Even those not participating knew what was at stake. Jack had given a run-down to everyone that morning: The “‘Heist Team’ would sell in the morning as to avoid suspicion and then head over to Brooklyn, where they would strategize and finalize their plan, then put it into motion by sunset. Everyone else would sell as many extra papes as they could to cover for the boys missing work as well as any boys who may be returning to or joining the newsie life once free. Some of the older boys would also try to lure any extra officers as far from the Refuge as possible to keep them out of the team's way.

---

The Manhattan half of the team arrived at the Brooklyn lodging house at noon, just as promised. Quickly surrounded by Brooklyn newsies, not out of the ordinary, but met with a mix of suspicious looks and relieved sighs, very much out of the ordinary.

“Well Higgins, what’ve ya got?” Jack narrowed his eyes at Hotshot, he was well aware that tensions were high and this wasn’t exactly a situation anyone wanted to be in. That didn’t excuse him being so short with Race.

“It’ll go down in the history books,” Race smirked. Full of false confidence. All of his boys behind him. Well, all but one. If there was one thing Race could do without fail, it was bluff. Sometimes Jack could barely tell. The twitch of his fingers, probably aching to crack, was what gave him away.

“We’ll need someone on the ground from Brooklyn to lure as many bulls and guards away as possible, and Finch’ll take three shooters up to the rooftops, they’ll distract anyone remaining. Jack n’ Blink ‘ave volunteered to handle Snyder so you don’t hafta. Me, Albert, an’ anyone else who wants ta join will break one of the window bars usin’ these,” Race gestures to the tools Albert was currently carrying. “From there I’ll go in an’ grab Spot and you’ll work on getting out anyone else we can.”

Jack thought it was a pretty solid plan. It let every participant play to their strengths and was probably the best chance they had considering the handful of previous breakout attempts. Hotshot clearly wasn’t ecstatic about it but seemed willing to go along with it.

A shaky voice piped up from the crowd. “So we’s for sure breakin’ everybody out?”

Race turned stoically to the kid. “We’re certainly gonna try.”

---

The sun was just starting to set, casting the world in an orange glow and allowing the boys to slip through now prominent shadows. They moved into position.

Flicker would lead as many guards as he could on a wild goose chase.

Finch and some Brooklyn slingshotters would distract the rest.

Jack and Blink would sneak past the clueless guards and keep Snyder occupied.

Race, Albert, and Hotshot had the actual break-in, with a few other kids for backup. It hadn’t been too difficult to get their hands on the tools to dismantle the window bars, but that was only because one Manhattan newsie’s dad was a smith and he’d ‘borrowed’ them for the night.

Soon the sun was half-set and the Heist was in motion. And it was up to Flicker to start. Well, if there was one thing a street kid knew how to do, it was cause a ruckus. And boy did he.

Flicker was fast. Could outrun everyone he’s ever met. Grins like a madman when he felt the wind on his face and heard the pounding footsteps behind him. Doesn’t go too fast, yet. If he lost them now they might go back to their posts. He stayed just on the edges of their vision, ducking around people and in and out of alleys. Once he’s far enough away from the Refuge he’ll lose them in proper, let them scour city blocks where they won’t find him, far away from his friends.

Finch was a shot and a half. Hiding on a nearby rooftop, a few Brooklyn boys scattered around doing the same thing, he felt on top of the world. He kind of was. Had more ammo than he knew what to do with and shooting the remaining guards who were too stupid to look up made him feel powerful. These men, who knew what happened in the Refuge, facilitated what happened there, distraught over a couple of kids with slingshots. It was hysterical. Even once they noticed where the attack was being led from they couldn’t do anything about it. Too big and clumsy to climb up like they had shitty enough aim that they couldn’t hit back from the ground. Hah. Finch could do this all night, and it looked like his allies felt the same.

Jack was nervous. Confronting Snyder scared him. He also was aware that he was one of the few people who would actually keep Snyder’s attention without drawing too much suspicion. Of their rag-tag team, it had to be him. And he wasn’t alone, Blink was right there at his side and despite what he let some people think, he could pack a real punch. And if they pulled this off Snyder would be humiliated. That was always a plus in Jack’s book.

All they had to do was trap Snyder in his office or lure him out of the building itself. Easy-peasy. Snyder might not even realize who it was if they were careful enough. Together they quietly slipped through the gates. Blink followed Jack’s lead, he was the only one who’d been here before and escaped. Jack guided them through the halls, halting at a partially opened door. He peered inside.

Kid Blink hadn’t even seen Warden Snyder like this, up close, before. If he didn’t know better he’d’ve thought that he was just some old man. But the things he’d heard…

Well, let’s just say Blink wasn't going to be getting comfortable anytime soon. Jack motioned for him to stay, then disappeared back the way they came. He reappeared about a minute later, carrying a solid wooden chair. Blink got the idea. He darted across the doorway to the other side, glanced at Jack for guidance, slow he motions, and Blink was. He, deftly as he could, reached into the office and closed the door with a soft thud and click of the handle. Jack immediately secured the chair under the handle. Hopefully that would hold him. If not they could always run, that’d still be a distraction. For now though, just sitting there and keeping an eye out was good enough.

Meanwhile, Race and the Bar Boys, as Race had so aptly named them, were preparing to strike. They had waited long enough that everyone should be taken care of and they could get access to one of the windows (on the ground floor this time) open.

Albert and Hotshot quickly get to work dismantling the whole contraption. They move together in a way that surprises Race, diligent and in sync. They’re done in a matter of minutes and then Race is crawling in through the window to go find Spot and they’re off to dismantle another. If they’re going to get every kid out using only one window would take forever. Most of the other boys followed them with two staying behind to man this entry point.

Race felt dizzy the moment his feet touched the ground inside the Refuge. The last time he was here was under much different circumstances. Circumstances that made him queasy when he thought about them too hard. Shook himself, unconsciously cracking his knuckles, he wasn’t a prisoner this time. He was here on a mission, he was here because Spot needed him to be. He could do this for Spot.

One foot in front of the other, out of sight and on the edge of cautious, Race maneuvered through the empty halls. Deep breaths, forcing down the bile as memories resurfaced. Just think about Spot. One foot in front of the other.

Spot was probably still in the bunk room upstairs. Step. That would be the best place to look for him. Step. And once he was there it’d be easy to address the other kids. Step. Then he’d have to check the more isolated rooms. Step. Free anyone there. Step. He wished someone had freed him while he was there. Step. Memories flashed through his mind. Step- and he’s at the bunkroom door.

One more deep breath and he’s opening the door.

Some of the kids turned to face him in surprise. Eyes combed over the room frantically.

“Where’s Spot Conlon?”

They glanced among themselves wearily until one boy spoke up. “He’s in one of the rooms.”

Race froze. That was bad. Very bad. Swallowed hard, avoiding eye contact. “We’s gettin’ you out, all of ya. The windows on the ground floor are open and everyone is distracted, but you hafta be real quiet and fast. There’ll be kids waiting outside to help you if you need it.”

The surprise is evident on nearly everyone’s face. Instantly most kids are grabbing their meager belongings and practically dash out the door behind him. Race waited for each kid to begin their escape before he forced himself to head towards the isolation rooms.

He walked in a daze, a hollow, aching feeling having taken up residence in his chest where his heartbeat should be. He could hear the muffled sounds of the escapees trying to be silent.

He braced himself.

The first room was empty. As was the second.

The third was occupied. A boy no older than thirteen huddled in the corner, cowering away from the intrusion. Race made it clear he was here to help and pulled the boy to his feet. Told him the same things he told the others and watched the boy run out the door. Race was shaking, just slightly. He never wanted to be in one of these rooms again. He still soldiered on.

Four was empty too.

Race didn’t want to see what was on the other side of five. Spot was on the other side of five. There was nowhere else he could be. Man, this place was messing with his head. The sooner he got Spot out the sooner they could leave. Race opened the door.

Spot was sitting in the corner as well, knees pulled up to his chest, head down and tense beyond belief. From what Race could see, there was visible bruising on his face that certainly hadn’t been there before. If Race hadn’t felt sick before…

Tears gathered in his eyes. “Spot?”

“Racer? What- how- I-”

“We’re getting out of here, right now.” Race helped Spot to a standing position. However, the moment Spot put weight on his left foot he yelped. Getting a better look at it revealed that his ankle was clearly hurt, probably sprained.

Race tightened his grip on Spot. He had been able to walk just fine yesterday. If only he had-

Spot steadied himself, leaning into Race. Tilted his head so Race had no choice but to meet his eyes.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay. I’ll be okay.” Spot sounded so reassuring, so- so sure. Race had no choice but to believe him. Race rubbed at the tear tracks lining his face. Still slightly shaking, he nodded. They just had to get out of this place. Finally having Spot back with him allowed Race’s determination to shine through.

It was a long way home.

#newsies #newsies live #sprace #newsies fanfic #newsies fanfiction #racetrack higgins #spot conlon #albert dasilva #jack finch davey hotshot and a few others show up as well #albert dasilva & racetrack higgins #newsies writing #orange writes #word count: 4.2k #is that all?

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honeyfreckled · 5 years

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we have talked a few times and im sorry for this but you are the most accepting and easiest person to talk to honestly i dont have many people in my life i can tell anything real to. but the thing is ive been thinging about relapsing a lot more since i broke up with my boyfriend and i work with him so it makes work depressing and impossible to get through a day without crying sorry this is anon but i am scared ily dont hate me i am not trying to stress you out

ok wow first lemme just say: I DO NOT HATE U. EVER.

and don’t be srry i don’t have a lotta ppl irl i can tell my shit to so i get it. pls know u can always ALWAYS ALWAYS come to me, and u dont gotta be scared to come off anon. i get it and it’s ok if u prefer it that way- but pls know i dont keep it on alot bc i get hate and then i turn it off bc i gotta look out for myself and dont post all the hate bc i dont wanna bring yall down or give them the satisfaction of knowing i have given it a read and response. so u can message me or make a sideblog or idk im just saying this so if it’s off later u dont blame yrself or feel scared to come off anon. ok sorelapse is a real thing and it’s fucked and hard and addiction is fucked up and a real life struggle and we dont treat addicts w the real tenderness, respect, kindness, and acceptance they deserve. but u DO deserve it. and there are hotlines, apps, churches, groups, chatrooms/boards, and sites that are more versed in what are the appropriate things to say to u- i say this bc while i’ve been thru it w loved ones i have not myself struggled w addiction w substances. my addictions were to self harm and victimhood so those are the things i searched for help on. but if it’s alright i’d like to give u some tips or things i used and have heard work for addicts of substances

places like i said like churches, groups, chatrooms, sites, apps, hotlines the apps and hotlines are good if u cant travel or want to talk to ppl who wont share their story bc maybe u cant hear it like its not the kinda help ur looking for. hotlines are sometimes tricky bc some of those folks are not educated they are volunteers so judgment leaks thru and in that case u ask to be redirected and report that volunteer so hopefully they dont repeat that kinda mess to other vulnerable folks looking for help

make a list of things, anything. list of foods u like to order, list of things that make u clench yr teeth, what were yr fave gifts you’ve ever got, style icons of urs, hobbies u tried that annoyed u, movies u can always watch, places on yr skin u hate being touched, any list of anything it doesnt have to be the usual thing of “what to live for” bc when yr depressed those kinds of things arent easy to think of. but if u get a list going of like “best things ive ever touched” “sounds that make me laugh” “trends that were stupid af” “popular things that i didnt like n couldnt figure out why they were popular” “weirdest ppl ive met” well those things might get u on a roll of good memories or laughing or seeing that theres more to yr life than what has been occupying yr thoughts

dancing. dance in yr room in the dark. clear some space. put on some headphones. lock yr door. do it in the shower. just dance. i had to start w closing my eyes and picking songs that i was taken by emotionally. songs that made me jump and slamdance tbh and then it’s just gotten more and more something im not as ashamed w. i spent a date night w james just dancing and then we ya know ya know bc the dancing got so wild. now i make playlists of songs that set moods for diff kinds of dancing

watch shows w ppl who arent doing better than u. they dont live in fancy places, they dont do much w their lives, they dont dress better than u, they struggle, they arent eating good food u dont have access to. iasip. freaks and geeks. letterkenny. undeclared. jake and amir. tpb. the state. youtube. tiktok/vine comps. lots of these kinds of vibes on youtube

podcasts. improv comedy podcasts tbh saved my life. comedy bang! bang! has best of’s those are good ones to start w. improv4humans bc matt besser has great guests of some of the best improvisers out there and he has musical guests and they’ll play a song and the improvisers will use it as inspo for a scene

make things. moodboards. pinterest. playlists. fill a shopping cart and tell yrself “i’ll get it when i win the lotto and move away from anyone who knows me so i can be the me i wanna be w/out judgement” make tea. make a meal if u can. make yr bed. clean one thing. clean the sink. hang some clothes or go thru yr drawers and clean them out. throwing things out feels hard at first but then it’s nice bc u feel less bogged down

find something to throw yr obsession at for a bit. something that wont hurt u as bad, being obsessed in general isnt good. everything in moderation irl. too much of something is bad just as much as too less of it can be bad. but yr looking for something lower risk here and if u gotta be obsessed w a celeb or a song or a food that’s ok. yr focusing the energy on something that isnt a substance so be proud of it

give yrself a break. give yrself some credit. everyday isnt gonna be on the “best of your name here’s days” but sometimes u just live to live bc that’s what u do. u wait it out and get thru it and wait for the sun to come back out. and if u cant get outta bed. or if you hate yr job and wanna scream- that’s normal it’s more normal than always being happy ppl just dont like talking abt bc society kinda trains us to hide our fucked upness idk why but thats how it is. they dont wanna tell us to do preventative care until we’re in the pits

all in all- it comes down to (at least for me) not planning w an endgoal in mind. it’s not over til it’s over and rlly we dont know. it’s all fluctuating and not meant to be a finish line we cross and then suddenly we’re done and we dont suffer anymore and the feeling of shit is gone or the risk of relapse is gone and the depression is cleared away never to be seen again. it’s not realistic. bc it isnt real. on the real- risk is always there and the downs and ups mix and run together and depression is not curable (this isnt something to be miserable over tho) depression isnt curable, yeah ok, but it is manageable. it can be quieted down from time to time and if u keep up w yr healthy routines and coping mechanisms- depression will still find its way to u bc the real world is not something u can manage. death in the family, loss of money or job, car breaking down, sickness outta nowhere, depression grows wild when these very real life stressors come into our lives. but all that too eventually gets easier and easier at least from a “ok i have some distance now” standpoint. and then as those days get more and more btwn it u can then be like “oh wow, ive made it thru X amount of days! ive put up w it this long! whats one more day, whats one more week, hell might as well see how much prouder i can feel once ive got a year under my belt!” plus u will be more capable of handling the bullshit if u know u can still find some safe places in yr coping skills or friends or resources.

ok so this is prob a mess but bottomline know this:

I love you and i will be here the best i can should u ever wanna come spill or if u need me to just send u pics of my dog or boring pics of knickknacks or selfies or memes or links or anything just tell me what u need and i will try my best to show u my love. i hope u can see that u reaching out is just already a HUGE major step in the right direction, give yrself credit! thats amazing! yr already doing it pumpkin look at u! it’s hard ik. but i also know if u are capable of saying u have this problem going on, u are capable of getting thru this. u are a light in the world. u offer goodness and u offer yrself and that’s enough. even if yr fucked up right now- u are contributing to the world by simply being u. there is literally NO ONE ELSE WHO IS YOU. so u are unique by definition. i hope u get something from this post and if not i hope it strikes an idea or thing u can do that will help. i hope u know im here and i hope u see this.

i am sending u all my light and love and good vibes and i can’t wait to see or hear from u again. u are never bothering me, a burden, or stressing me out. tbh it stresses me more that u might be struggling and not telling me or anyone. i dont ever want u to suffer in silence bc u feel guilt or scared or anything. u deserve to have a place to voice yr shit. im here to listen if u do wanna tell me anymore.

everyone else-if this helped or if u can think of anything that might help anon or anyone else- feel free to reblog and get some good NONJUDGMENTAL advice or tips and tricks going, but please please please remember to not come off as judgey or flood it with your drama. keep ur drama out of this post so anon or anyone else doesn’t get triggered by it.

and dont ignore my rule and do it anyway and then say some shit like “ik u said not to but i think this will help lol sorry” like we need this post to stay on this vibe that i set in motion and not a struggle contest or dick measuring or all sad personal reminiscing. go make yr own post for that this is NOT the space.

#Anonymous #sorry if this is a mess but i got a lot of feelings abt the shitty advice that's out there for addicts and i dont know shit except my ideas #and all i can do is pass it along but pls still remember there are plenty more things that could work so if these dont strike a chord lmk #and i can try to think of more and reach out to my friends who are addicts and see what works for them #i love you i love you and i love you and i like you

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kulluto · 3 years

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you know 🤠

#i’m not even necessarily depressed i’m just getting bored. of everything. i thought i was just getting bored of tumblr but it’s everything #i feel like. there’s nothing left to do. no one left to meet. it feels like an ending but i don’t know why #and i would just put an end to it myself but you know what stops me? my cat 😂😂#it’s so fucking pathetic. this is really the only thing stopping me? i don’t have ANYTHING else?#yeah ik people care about me but like. moderately. just enough.#but not a lot. so it wouldn’t like. haunt them for life or anything #but whatever. cat is attached to me so i can’t kill myself i guess.#suicide tw

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kae-karo · 5 years

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things i’m grateful for

okay preface: i hate the reason thanksgiving was invented ofc but i do love the concept of taking a day to sit back and remind myself of the things in my life that i’m grateful for so here we go (and pls i encourage y’all to take some time and do the same) anyway feel free to read below the cut if y’all want way too much insight into my personal life lmao

my friends

without question, my experience both in the phandom and like in life in general has so massively improved thanks to these lovely people and i can’t say i’d be as happy a person as i am without them

of course my incredible gcs (jolly best friends and dickmates, “moderate sex references”, we have goldfish memories, katashen, and the gc that always changes names lmao) and the lovelies in them @thereisnobearonthisisland @philsroots @uselessphillie @daliensgrandads @severaltortillascollector @dnptrqsh @dip-and-pip-trash @transhowell @dreamdilddy @hey-itskxt @dreamdilddy @freckliephil @philsdrill @phloridas @lovestillaround @legdabs @amczingphil @phantasieslide @maanjha @manialester @sleeplessnightwithphan @phandumb @imnotinclinedtomaturity @auroraphilealis @ineverywordisay @glitterydanandphil @kerasines @workinprogress91 @merridewhoo @natigail @swissfuckingcheesegdi @phastelpink @stick-it-to-the-phan @phanarchy

my dearest friends irl with whom i never spend enough time and often bail on bc i’m tired of existing around people, but who never fail to be lovely and kind and wonderful friends anyway. i’ve known them for eight years now and i am so lucky to have found them and to still be friends with them

a very good friend of mine who taught me everything i know about customer service and just being a diligent person (she’s also literally the reason i link everything so uhh thank her lmao) who i consider my lesbian big sister and who i’ve been so so lucky to get to reconnect with and will get the opportunity to work with starting in december and who even remembered one of my fave bands like after literally two years when i only mentioned them one time i love her

my family

whomst thank fuck are not on this hellsite but i love them all dearly

my sister who’s like still figuring her life out and doing a way better job of deciding what she enjoys doing than i ever did and like she’s younger than me but it’s a constant lesson that hey look it’s good to be true to yourself and do what you want. and i’m so grateful that we don’t fight the way we used to, that we’re like partners in crime and that she actually likes spending time with me and thank god she’s not gonna see this bc she thinks i get too sappy sometimes but i gotta make up for hiding her glasses when we were younger and literally forgetting about them for two weeks okay <3

my parents who have always been steadfast supporters even when they don’t love my choices. without them, i wouldn’t be where i am today, i wouldn’t have the level of independence i do today, and honestly i wouldn’t have learned to find the strength to follow my own path. i also can’t thank them enough for supporting even when they don’t understand, like they literally do not understand dnp but my dad found out they were doing ii and asked if i would want tickets for christmas and my mom always asks about my writing

my grandma who, bless her soul, has been completely alone without my grandpa for two years now, after having been with him since she was sixteen, who reminded me (unintentionally) that people who are suffering from mental health issues (she’s had depression for years now) can so greatly benefit from having someone reach out. i’m grateful for our weekly calls where we just catch up, because sometimes i go for a year without seeing her in person (usually just for the holidays) and it’s good to know how things are going with her. i’m also eternally grateful to her for reminding me that people are just people. my parents often talk about her as if she’s some one-dimensional character who only has a handful of (negative) personality traits, and it’s nice to get to know her on my own

the rest of my extended family, who, although i’m not nearly as close to, are still always fun to see during the holidays, and i’m immensely grateful that i don’t have the kind of family that i dread seeing. there’s always entertainment, overflowing alcohol (not that i partake, but everyone else has a fuckin blast with it), and laughter and although i occasionally feel a bit outside the circle (lots of cousins getting married/in relationships/etc and uhhh can’t relate lmao) i never fail to look forward to seeing everyone

y’all

yeah ik it’s cheesy but i do really appreciate y’all so much? like. i just read this note i made to myself abt something unrelated a year ago but i’d offhand mentioned that i was so so thrilled to have almost a hundred people following me. like it just blew my mind that so many people were interested in what i had to say, in my writing at the time, etc. and now,,,,,i mean. jfc i can’t even begin to fathom what i must’ve done to deserve all of y’all, and to deserve you all being so kind. like since the minute i joined tumblr i saw/heard horror stories of mean anons, of people being rude for the sake of it, etc etc. and like. of the literal thousands of asks i’ve gotten, i can count on one hand the number of even vaguely unkind ones. it just makes me so immensely happy to know that such lovely, kind people want to participate in this blog. so please know that i appreciate the existence of every single one of you not just uwu bc u follow me and that’s what i’m supposed to say or w.e but bc you’re out here making a positive impact on the world and on me, and you’re the kind of lovely person that i’m so glad i have the pleasure of existing alongside

dnp

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ u knew it was coming, but honestly i am grateful to them as people

they set such fantastic examples for how to be good humans, constantly donating their time to good causes, reminding us to take care of ourselves, and doing their best to figure themselves out which yes is so incredibly important bc it’s this amazing example of how people aren’t any perfect shiny version of themselves, they’re real and raw and imperfect and that’s why we love them???? and by extension, that teaches us self love and love for others

that’s another thing i really didn’t realize at first - how much self-hatred i was harboring, how much internalized homophobia (toward myself! never others) and how much i just accepted about the world (heteronormativity, misogyny, the lack of diversity in media, the list goes on) and a lot of things said by both dnp and by the phandom have helped open my eyes to things like that. and dnp helped me realize that being ace isn’t a bad thing??? which was such a horrible thing i’d held onto for years and years

so i’m so grateful to dnp for existing, for being who they are and how they are and for encouraging the wonderful kindness and acceptance that they want to see in the world

my therapist

and to daniel and depression for convincing me to see one. i’ve let go of a lot of the baggage i was holding onto over the time i’ve been seeing my therapist and i’m grateful to her for, well, doing her job. and for doing it well, and for asking the questions that i didn’t think to ask, to get at things i didn’t think about before. and for reminding me (not directly, but by virtue of her existence) that honesty is one of the most important things to me

my job

or just generally the jobs i’ve had over the years that force me to interact with people, because it’s taught me that nobody’s ever angry or upset for no reason, and that people who are angry or upset and mean are not mean because they’re actually trying to be vicious but because they’re suffering in some way. so it’s a daily reminder to treat everyone with kindness and not take things personally, because ultimately most people are not intentionally vicious people. and i’m grateful to my job for reminding me how meaningful it is to me to help others

#privilegecheck

i think it’s important at this point that i stop and remind myself that i was born with a lot of privilege that makes my life immensely easy compared to others. i’m grateful for my upbringing and the ways that i’ve benefited from my privilege, but i need to acknowledge that i have benefited. not everyone is as lucky, and i need to be mindful of that in the things i do and say, and in the actions i choose to take, and - when i can - i should be using my privilege to help others

and finally, my greatest of thanks goes out to the fic writers, the gif makers, the edit makers, the phan artists, and all the other lovely people who make this community so wonderful

#thankful #kt

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