#Francis sullivan

[theres-no-escaping-us-pal]

hehe look at what my mom sent me

[lighten-up-no-one-died]

Something that lives in my mind rent free.

What if the 17 year old Jack doesn’t love Santa Fe as much as he used to anymore? Sure, he thinks about it and has fantasies about it… but it’s more of a like, “I have to go to Santa Fe because this is my persistence for it. I need to go there because I need to fulfill my own dreams for my younger self.”

[crystaltreebee]

And so the Strike begins

“I think we’ll win this fight all right. I ain’t made 20 cents this week, but I can stand a heap of that and so can all the Brooklyn boys. Don’t you touch Worlds or Journals until they give us a decent deal. We’re putting them out of business fast and they know it.” -Race Track Higgins at the Strikers Rally, July 24 1899

Today 125 years ago the Newsboy Strike in New York began.

Prominent leaders include

Race Track Higgins leader of the Brooklyn boys, who spoke commonly in horse and race metaphors,

Louis ‘Kid Blink’ Balletti, an 18 year old Italian American who was later accused of scabbing (he wrote a Newboy poem because of this),

David Simmons, a 21 year old who’d been selling papers since age 8 who stepped down as union president after being accused of betraying the strike,

Morris Cohen, little is known but he stepped up after Kid Blink and David Simmons were accused of scabbing,

Henry Butler, leader of the upper manhattan Newsies after Kid Blink, was arrested for blackmail for telling executives at New York World he wouldn’t stop the strike for anything less than $600

Annie Kelly, one of the few Newgirls loyal to the strike, she spoke at the rally after being pulled on stage by other newsboys.

[the-woild-is-y-erster]

with a name like frank sullivan i’d change my name too

[chaosfairy18]

Newsiestober Day 25: Jack-o-lantern

Behold, 92sies Jack: Pumpkin edition

this took me not a lot of time and I'm glad for it bc 3 drawings in a row is a lot. But it's still cute :)

Jack made this little guy and just wistfully looked at him while probably humming Santa Fe

prompt list by @newsiestober2024

[knockoff-conlon]

she jacked on my cowboy till i kellyed

[troyssix]

SEIZE THE DAY GETS ME EVERY TIME

I AM NOT ASHAMED.

"behold the brave battalion, that stands side by siiiiide

tooooo few in number, and too proud to hide.

and SAYYY to the othersss

who did not followwww through

*sobbing loudly* you're still our brotherss

AND WE WILL FIGHT FOR YOUUUU"

IT'S A TEAR JERKER

NO MATTER HOW MANY TIMES I WATCH NEWSIES

it just

IT HAS A VERY SPECIAL PLACE IN MY HEART 💙💙💙

[youaintnothinbuta]

hiii! could u pretty pls do a jack kelly x reader with the reader secretly being pulitzers daughter? (kinda like katherine’s storyline lol) :))

"So we wasn’t too good to be true?" — jack kelly x reader

Summary: Jack finds out the hard way that you’re Pulitzer’s daughter and he’s not happy about it. But, after forcing him to listen to you, you show him that he can trust you.

Pairing: jack Kelly x pulitzersdaughter!reader

Word count: 1,000

Warnings: Fluff with a bita arguing! Sry if there’s typos <3

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was late and cold, Jack was hurting and angry. He’d gone back to the newsies from Pulitzer’s office, trying to disband the strike. The boys didn’t take this well, yelling and shouting at him like they hadn’t been friends for most of their lives. He stormed around on his rooftop, kicking and punching the railings, his breathing ragged as his body tried to keep warm in the cold air, and his brain tried to fight off the emotions that were becoming all too much for him to contain. The newsies, however, weren’t even the half of what was working him up so much. No, it was you. He was furious and sad.

While in Pulitzer’s office, he noticed the stamp patterned over all the documents spread all over his desk. Jack could barely remember what Pulitzer said to him. His head hurt, his brain felt like lead. That stamp had the same emblem as the one in your necklace, the one you’d told him was a family crest.

He wasn’t exactly being quiet up there, the echo of metal ringing and his angry cries made it pretty easy for you to find him.

“Jack,” you spoke his name as you climbed up the ladder to meet him.

Jack took a sharp breath in, “you shouldn’t be here.”

“What? Jack, we’re worried ab—“

“You’re worried, huh? Yeah, right.” Jack’s voice was raw with emotion, his words tinged with bitterness as he cut you off.

You frowned, confusion knitting your brows together as you approached him cautiously. “What are you talking about, Jack? What’s going on?”

He turned away from you, unable to meet your gaze as he wrestled with the truth threatening to spill from his lips. “I knew it was too good to be true,” he confessed, his voice barely a whisper, “I saw your matching family crest with Pulitzer. Nice surprise, really. I mean, how long did you think you could lie for?”

You froze, your heart skipping a beat as his words sunk in. “Jack, I…”

He spun around to face you, his eyes filled with a tumult of emotions – anger, sadness, confusion. “You lied to me, a-and every other newsie” he accused, his voice cracking.

Tears welled in your eyes as you reached out to him, but he recoiled, pulling away from you. “Jack, please, let me explain—”

But he shook his head, his jaw clenched with determination. “I don’t want to hear it,” he spat, his words laced with hurt.

“Jack, I’m not my father.”

“No.”

“Jack-“

“I—I’m not an idiot. I shoulda known,” he groaned, “girls like you don’t wind up with guys like me. Just piss off.”

With that, he turned away from you, his shoulders hunched against the biting wind as he retreated into the darkness of the rooftop.

You weren’t about to let him do that.

“No Jack,” you gripped the back of his shirt, pulling it to turn him to face you. Before he had the opportunity to turn back around, you gripped the collar of his shirt in both hands, forcing him to look at you.

“I am not my father. I am on your side, Jack. YOUR SIDE. I didn’t tell you he was my father because I knew you’d immediately disregard me.” You stated, not once letting your eye contact be broken.

Jack's gaze softened as he looked into your eyes, the intensity of your close proximity playing with his head. He swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion as he struggled to find the right words to say.

You could see the conflict playing out in his eyes, the battle between his wounded pride and the sliver of hope he still had left. And then, without a word, you released your grip on his shirt and took a step back, your own emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

You gripped at your necklace. With one hard yank, you pulled it off your neck, snapping the clasp. He watched as you leant over the railing, tossing it as far into the night as you could. Turning away from him, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you knew would come next – rejection, dismissal, the final nail in the coffin of what could have been.

But then, just as you began to descend the ladder, his voice stopped you in your tracks.

"Y/N."

You paused, your heart pounding in your chest as you turned to look at him from the ladder.

"So we wasn’t too good to be true?" he asked, his voice soft yet filled with uncertainty.

You hesitated for a moment, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts of what to say. And then, summoning every ounce of courage you had left, you climbed back up the ladder and leaned against the railing, meeting his gaze head-on.

"Why don't you kiss me and find out," you challenged, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jack scoffed and shook his head. But as he looked into your eyes, he realized there was no jest in your expression, only a fierce determination and a vulnerability that mirrored his own.

“Wait, you’re serious?” he asked, his voice tinged with astonishment, his accent thick with disbelief.

You didn’t say anything, your gaze never leaving his as you held his stare, your heart pounding in anticipation.

And then, without another word, Jack closed the distance between you, his hands cupping your face as he pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that was both tender and passionate.

In that moment, everything else faded away – the cold, his anger, his hurt, your fears, the weight of the world on your shoulders. There was only Jack, only the warmth of his touch, the softness of his lips, and the overwhelming rush of emotions that came with him. Good ones.

There was a hunger in the way he kissed you, as if he was trying to convey all the emotions he couldn’t put into words. You pulled away, the soft smacking sound of your lips parting from his broke the silence.

“I am Y/N Pulitzer, Jack Kelly. Or should I say, Francis Sullivan.” You teased.

“You know?” His eyes widened, wondering how on earth you found out his birth name.

You shrugged, “We’re even now,” and extended your hand for him to shake.

“Nah,” he pushed your hand away, back down by your side, “I’d rather kiss.”

He smiled, pulling your body into his until your lips met again.

[sparkedblaze]

“Honestly when I found out the patriarchy wasn’t about horses, I lost interest immediately” is such a Jack Kelly line I can’t believe it came from the fucking Barbie movie

[ya-what--ya-erster]

if y’all have any alleyway scene javey fics I will take them gladly

[willsolace-loml]

kathrine and jack: mlm & wlw hostility

sarah and jack: mlm & wlw solidarity

sarah and david: sibling hostility & mlm & wlw hostility

kathrine and david: mlm & wlw hostility turned solidarity

[emmedoesntdomath]

jack, grinning at sarah: hey, pretty baby

davey, indignant: hey!

jack, eyes wide: oh, sorry

*turning to davey, grinning the exact same way*

jack, winking at davey: hey, handsome

davey, cheeks going red:

[make-friends-with-the-rats]

Duane Street December, Day 20: Jack Kelly

[crystaltreebee]

(I’ve had a terrible thought but oh well, here you go)

Katherine: So if you’re dating Jack-

Davey: and you’re ALSO dating Jack-

both: then who’s driving this bus?

(it’s Jack and he’s making all the wrong decisions.)

[ill-say-anything-i-hafta]

Jack Kelly, your headcannon 2024:

(Talking about the play here, not 92sies, which answers this question very clearly.)

[watchingwhathappens]

this is my cowboy oc. i couldn't think of a name so i named him sullivan francoise.