#I have too many thoughts about the newsies and their names

[to-be-a-dreamer]

Modern-era Buttons tries to start going by "Ben" once he gets to high school and all his friends are just like "lol no" and simply refuse. It's like. The first class of freshman year and the teacher is doing that thing where they call roll and ask everyone what name they go by

"Benjamin Davenport?" "Here! I uh-I go by Ben" "Like hell you do"

They eventually settle on "Benji" and "Benny" as a compromise but he's well into his college years before he stops getting called Buttons at least once a week.

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 42: Something More Important

Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/sl-newsie/739551758747090944/american-woman-thomas-shelby-x-american-oc?source=share

By the end of the afternoon everything is planned. Ada, Finn, Polly, and Michael are already here. Now we’re waiting for Lizzie and the other Shelbys and their wives. Thomas’ meeting with the duchess must have gone successfully because he came back in one piece with more money than I’d ever imagined. Now she’s gone.

In the kitchen I pour a small whiskey and let the nostalgic drink warm me. More footsteps approach and Thomas spots me sitting at the table.

“Do you drink now?” 

I roll my eyes. “In small portions. Don’t blame me. You lot are always drinking.”

He walks in and takes a seat next to me, examining the bottle with a cigarette dangling from his mouth. “Whiskey?”

“My vader runs a brewery. What do you think?”

“‘S this your father’s brand?”

I nod proudly. “Some of the best in America.”

Thomas hums and considers me with calculating eyes, hand on his chin. “How do you feel about horses?”

Another swallow. “Not much to say. I grew up in the city and never got to see many, much less ride one until I came here.” I smirk. “Not that I wouldn’t be up to the challenge.”

He hums again. “Do you prefer cars?”

Is that a trick question? Where is this coming from? “In Brooklyn everything’s close enough to walk. When my family travels we rent a car. But if you’re asking my opinion about those gleaming beauties you’ve got now, I’ll say they’re some of the best cars I’ve ever ridden in.” I stand up and place my glass in the wash basin. “You’re a man of many wonders, Thomas. Gorgeous horses and snazzy automobiles.”

A new feeling blooms in my chest just as Ada walks by. So much for a private moment.

“They’re asking for you, Tommy.”

Thomas waves her off and stands up, taking a puff on his cigarette. He takes his own sip from vader’s whiskey and looks to the floor with a look telling me he’s overthinking.

“After today, things might go back to normal,” I comment lightly and put a hand on his shoulder. “Now go out there and show them who Thomas Shelby is.”

Thomas gives a stiff nod and strides off into the hall. I start to follow but am blocked by Linda before I can exit the kitchen.

“Why are you here?” she asks, looking me up and down.

“Excuse me?”

“Why are you here? Esme, Ada, Polly, and I are kin to the Shelbys.” She tilts her chin up. “Who are you?”

It feels like someone punched me in the throat. What words can I possibly say about that? Does she not see the time I’ve dedicated to this family?

“I- I’m here as a friend. Thomas-”

“All you are is a trusting, pretty face that he can send to do the boring work he doesn’t like,” she tuts. “If I were you I’d go back to America. That’s where Arthur and I plan on going. Away from this dangerous place. Although no offense, your state may be a bit too rough for the baby.”

My jaw tightens and my gaze hardens. My hands stay clenched at my sides. Every part of me wants to boil over and scream at her for disrespecting my country.

“How dare you. You say I’m a waste of space here and then insult my home? You are in luck because I am too Christian to hit a pregnant woman. Excuse me.”

I force my way past Linda, pushing into her shoulder. Arthur, you are a good man, but why did you have to find someone so judgemental? At least Esme still accepts me. Polly, Ada, Finn… Thomas trusts me. I understand that trust does not come easily to this family but one would think that after all this time-

“Ms. Steenstra, there’s someone on the phone for you,” Mary interrupts my thoughts. “A man named Conor.”

The name makes my pulse spark. Why would he be calling?

“Conor? That’s my brother.” I walk to the phone and hesitantly pick it up. “Hello?”

“Verena?” His deep American accent rings through. “Thank God! I’ve been trying to reach you all day! Where the Hell in England are you?”

“I’m in Warwickshire.”

“Speak normal English!”

I roll my eyes. “That is normal English! I’m at Arrow House. My boss’ house. And we’re about to have a meeting. Is something wrong?”

He chuckles halfheartedly. “Funny you should say that. Vader fell down the stairs and broke his beg.”

I close my eyes and let out a drawn-out groan. “It was the stairs with the loose floorboard, wasn’t it?”

“Sure was. And now we need someone to care for him while I get to be the lucky one who runs the shop.”

His attempt at sounding gumptious does not sink in well. The previous feeling of the future’s delightful promises is disassembled, leaving me to ponder the disappointment of having to leave Birmingham once more.

“Conor, are you serious?” I ask in a small voice. 

“Catch the next boat home,” he answers in a non-negotiable tone. “Please? Moeder and Oma are going crazy and we need you to balance it out.”

I feel like I’m falling. Being dragged down with no way out. “Conor. I am so close to starting a life for myself here. Is there any other person?”

He sighs deeply. “I’m afraid not. We need you here.”

Something more important. That’s what he wants to say. I have to leave because this is more important. Not Thomas’ mental stability or my own interest to start a life. What does Conor know? They’ve never even met the Shelbys yet. 

I’m being pulled from both sides. On one hand, I can’t leave Thomas alone with what he just went through. He needs me to listen. On the other hand, I cannot just leave my family. It’s too selfish. Maybe… I can still listen from the phone. Thomas might understand. He knows I wouldn’t leave unless it was for something like this.

“Very well. I will inform Mr. Shelby that I need to take a leave of absence.”

“Thank you, Verena,” Conor sighs in relief. “This is a big help, really. You’re-”

“Tell moeder I will be home soon,” I cut him off with a dead tone. “Tot ziens.”

I stiffly hang up the phone before he can ramble on about more assurances. Yes, this is a big help to them. But I also feel the need to be of service here too. Can’t they understand?

I join the others in Thomas’ office and try to squeeze past Finn before the meeting starts. “I need to speak to Thomas-”

“Shh!” 

Finn pushes me down into the chair next to him. Whatever Thomas’ new plan is I will have to be cut out. Now everyone is gathered, even Thomas’ uncle, Curly, and Johnny Doggs. We’re all in rows facing Thomas like it's going to be a big speech. Thomas stays hunches over his desk, eyeing us until we quiet down.

“Before I begin, I want to let you know I made a mistake.” He admits it? Thomas Shelby just admitted he was wrong. “And I want to apologize to all of you. Arthur, you warned me against getting involved in Russian business. And you were right.”

Arthur merely hums in response. 

“I doubted your wife, and for that I’m sorry. Linda, I’ve added 3,000 here in the hope that you’ll forgive me.”

Linda gives us all a quick look as if to see if taking the money is appropriate. She gets up and picks up the bills Thomas has placed on the desk. “Apology accepted.”

Thomas continues. “Esme I doubted you as well.”

Esme, carrying the sleeping newborn in her arms, stares right at him. “Now John’s got innocent lives on his conscience. Ordinary working men-”

“Yeah, alright Esme. Got it,” John pushes it off.

“No, she’s right,” Thomas agrees. “And you and Arthur are gonna have to share that burden.” He tosses another stack of bills to him. “But I hope the house that you can buy with this can become a place of contemplation. Perhaps redemption.” He throws more money to the men in the back. “Charlie, for lost tools, dangerous goods and Curly’s wise words. Johnny, for board and lodgings. Lizzie.” 

The dark-eyed secretary leans forward and throws it back, sitting up straight with a tensed jaw. In a split second her eyes dart to where I’m sitting and I swear she thinks I'm hiding something.

“Michael.” Thomas holds more money out to his cousin. “For the killings. 5 for the stabbing, 5 for the shooting-”

Polly stands up. “No, Tommy.”

“What?!” Thomas barks. “Tell me, eh! This is who I am! And this is all I can give you for what you’ve given me. Your hearts and your souls.” He points a finger at her. “Yesterday I nearly lost my son. You should fucking understand that. For what, eh? For this? This?”

He gestures to the room and I can see my prediction seeping through. Wealth can grant you only so much, Thomas. I tried to tell you, Lord knows I did. Now you see just how valuable life can be without money... And how easily it can be stolen.

“And I know you all want me to say that I’ll change,” he grunts, looking over each of us. He’s not wrong. “That this fucking busines will change. But I’ve learnt something in the last few days.” He points to the window. “Those bastards, those bastards, are worse than us. Politicians, fucking judges, Lords and Ladies. They are worse than us. And they will never admit us to their palaces no matter how legitimate we become. Because of who we are. Who we fucking are, where we fucking came from.”

As much as it pains me to think it, he’s right. This isn’t America where you can build from the ground up and people will respect you. Remains of wealthy families still linger but in Brooklyn your character is judged by your labors. Your hard work. Maybe that is why I’ve been so out of place here.

“Isn’t that right, Ada?” Thomas looks at his sister. “Our Ada knows. She got smart about the revolution. And she knows you have to get what you want your own way. Lizzie, I want it known that money was for you because some nights it was you who stopped my heart from breaking. No one else.”

Crack.

My breathing ceases. Thomas’ words are drowned out by the ringing in my ears. My entire body freezes to stare unblinking at the desk. Did he just say that? In the corner of my eye Lizzie’s look of confidence says enough. But he said thank-you. He said he needs me…

“And Verena, don’t think I’ve forgotten you.”

Did he say my name? My head jerks up and those stern blue eyes meet my frigid ones.

“Verena. The American woman who stood by us as our family crumbled and built up again. Verena, who cared for and protected my son as if he were her own. Verena, who makes me look like a bloody fool for not following her wisdom. Vernea, who always listens.”

He holds up a single envelope. Not one with money.

“This here is for you. The deed to the house on Watery Lane. It’s yours now. And outside that house, you will find a car. That’s yours too.”

Oh God. He does care. He wants me to stay so badly. How can I tell him I can’t? “Thomas-”

“No exceptions,” he orders and sets the envelope on the desk.

“Thomas, please-” I beg.

“Tommy. You’ve had a bad time,” Polly interrupts. “We understand. So at an alternative time, we have all recovered.” She walks over to retrieve the money from Michael, who does not look compliant. “I would like to put before the family an alternative view of the future of the Shelby Company Limited. A more hopeful view.”

Esme’s baby starts to cry. Polly’s words hit everyone. If only I could join this hopeful future. 

“Which I, for one, would quite like to hear,” Ada inputs.

Esme stands up with her child. “As would I.”

“And I,” Lizzie agrees.

Thomas’ eyes flicker to me and I force an empty smile. “Me too.”

Linda, however, is not as enthusiastic. “Come on, Arthur. Train to the boat leaves in one hour. Then we get the boat to New York and it’ll all be in the past.”

Polly gives him a hug while Thomas fights the urge to as well. Instead he sits back in his chair and takes a puff on his cigarette. Does this mean the meeting’s over? Are the Shelbys really splitting up? Arthur can’t really be going- Can he? After everything…?

Everyone stands in silence as Arthur approaches his brother for a final goodbye. “I’ll be off then, Tom. I’ll see ya. I’ll see you, brother.”

He gives a nod and walks to join Linda at the back of the room. I’m really going to miss him. Maybe I’ll be on the same boat back to New York.

“You can go but you won’t get far, Arthur.”

Thomas’ words cause everyone to look at him. Arthur must think he’s joking. What on Earth is he talking about?

“I spoke to Moss last night. He told me that the Chief Constable of Birmingham has issued a warrant for your arrest. Murder, sedition, conspiracy to cause explosion. John, they’re coming for you as well. Same charges. Michael, the murder of Hughes. Polly-”

“Wait a minute. What the fuck are you talking-?” Arthur’s voice rises.

Bang! Bang! “Open up!” Someone shouts from outside.

Oh no. He didn’t- Thomas could never-

“…In the murder of Chief Inspector Chester Campbell,” Thomas finishes.

So Polly really did kill him. Can’t say I’m sad to hear it. But what does not calm my thoughts is the continued pounding on the front door. 

“The people we betrayed last night want to bring us down,” Thomas explains as whistles start to blow. “They control the police, the judges, the jails. But they do not control the elected government.”

“What the fuck Tommy?” John yells and everyone starts clustering in a panic.

“I was going to listen to you, my brother-!”

“They’ll hang us!”

“Listen to me!” Thomas is trying to stay calm. “I’ve made a deal, in return for turning in evidence against them. Lizzie, take the money to the cellar. You will get your money in course time. When the police get in, do not resist. Do not say anything.”

More panic spreads through the room. Polly, looking shocked and distraught, is escorted out by Michael. Esme tries to run with John but I know they won’t get far. Screams echo from the hall. Finn and I exchange anxious looks and bolt out of the room to see the door burst open and uniformed cops swarm inside. They push me away and back Arthur up against the wall with a baton to his throat. John’s already handcuffed. Esme’s trying to soothe the baby and keep Linda from attacking the coppers. Finn, who looks to be seconds from tears when he sees Polly being handcuffed, takes off sprinting out the door and around to the back of the house, towards the pasture. Lizzie and Ada are still hiding in the cellar. I’m all that’s left.

As the thrashing prisoners are led outside I feel someone walk up behind me. Thomas. We both stand in silence watching them all be dragged out to the awaiting trolley. Silence drapes over the once-lively house. I dare to look up and see Thomas’ facade threatening to crack. He never wanted this. A king, all alone in his castle. 

He finally speaks. “The only one not linked by evidence to this is you, Verena.” 

I swallow hard to fight my own tears. “That’s supposed to make me feel better? You just sent your own family to the gallows, Thomas! You must admit the law is catching up to you now. Rigged or not, do you think you can fight this system?” I take a shaky breath. “I feel like that speech was partially directed at me. No, I understand you can’t change. But you’re right. You are better than them, Thomas. All those snippity aristocrats.”

“I really meant what I said,” Thomas murmurs and I fight the temptation to keep looking at him. “You… You’ve kept me sane. You listen. You care. I don’t know how, but you do. Even if there’s nothing profitable for you.”

I shake my head slowly. “Care and compassion shouldn’t come at a cost.” Another deep breath. “There’s more news, I’m afraid. Conor, my oldest brother, just called and told me I need to return home. Vader broke his leg, and…”

Something in him breaks too. We both know where this is going. Thomas wants to break down further but instead closes his eyes to clarify my reason to leave.

“You need to help. ‘S alright, Verena. I understand.”

“Please know that I truly do wish to stay.” I gently take his hand. “You didn’t need to gift me anything for helping you, Thomas. God sent me here for a reason.”

He swallows. “You deserve it all, love. It will still be here when you come back.”

“I will be back,” I assure firmly. “I promise. But right now you need your family. Save them, Thomas. While I’m at home I can start arranging your shipments in Boston with Ada. I’m really sorry Thomas but I have my own family to look after as well.”

We turn into each other for a soft hug. Nothing too intimate, no. Something with a deeper feeling. Like two magnets not wanting to part. No longer do I feel scared to touch him. I need him to make me keep remembering what I’ll eventually return to. In a small moment I feel him lean down and press a single kiss to the top of my head.

“If I call, will you pick up?”

“Always.”

@meadows5

[bri-cheeses]

| Sprace microfic | Word count: 960 | Shoutout to Hotshot (my queen) |

-

Spot Conlon was sitting on a fire escape, and he had a secret.

Technically speaking, he had many secrets, a good deal of which were much more sinister than this one. But this, he thought, was one that couldn’t get out. Ever.

“Hey, boss,” Hotshot said from behind him, lowering herself onto the step next to Spot. The sudden break in the serene atmosphere caused Spot’s pulse to jump, but he didn’t let it show. Instead, he simply flicked the ash from the cigar he was holding and shifted over to make room for his friend. He wasn’t sure why his second in command felt the need to interrupt his alone time, but he wouldn’t mind so long as she didn’t say anything.

“So,” Hotshot started, and Spot mentally cursed at his luck, “I thought I’d let you know that the guys have been talking.”

The guys.

Have been talking.

A glower overtook his face. He had a feeling he already knew what this was about, but he had to be sure before saying anything.

“Talking about what?” he asked.

A beat of silence, then a hesitant: “They say you’ve been spending a lot of time at Sheepshead lately.”

“And what’s it to them?” Spot knew his tone was becoming more and more threatening, an undercurrent of danger lurking beneath his words, but he couldn’t bring himself to care very much. This was something good that he had. Something actually, truly good. He wouldn’t give it up without a fight.

“They say,” Hotshot said, continuing on even though Spot refused to look at her, “that you’ve been spending more and more time there since a couple a’ months ago.”

He let out a frustrated huff of breath. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

His tone was biting, and his grip on the cigar in his hand tightened. Hotshot said nothing.

When Spot finally dared a glance at her, he found that she was already looking at him, her expression assessing. He felt his mask harden in response to the scrutiny. If Hotshot wanted to play this game, he could show her that he knew how to play, too—and knew how to play it well.

“Spot,” Hotshot finally said, and her voice was slow and measured as she asked, “Where’d you get that cigar?”

Apparently, she could play it well, too.

“It ain’t your business.” His tone was hard, no room for discussion or argument. Because Hotshot wasn’t supposed to know. No one was, except for himself and, well, the reason he’d been spending so much time at the tracks recently. But Hotshot had guessed anyways.

He looked down at the cigar. He should’ve been more careful—this wasn’t something that he wanted to get out. Not because he was ashamed of it, but because this was his thing. It was something he had that was special, and so what if he wanted to keep it to himself for just a bit longer? He did everything for the Brooklyn newsies. Everything. He deserved to have this one thing, right?

Hotshot sighed. “You know I won’t judge you, even if— even if he is Manhattan.”

“Who said anything about anyone?” Spot said flatly. His hands itched to push himself up off the stair, to stand and leave and avoid this conversation.

“I ain’t blind, Spot. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you tense whenever someone says his name, or the guarded expression you have when you say you’re going to the tracks, or the brand of the cigar in your hand. There’s only one newsie you interact with who would blow his money on a box of Coronas. So like I said, I ain’t blind, and I sure ain’t stupid, either.”

Spot had to huff a mirthful laugh at that, because maybe she wasn’t, but he certainly felt like he was. At least, he felt stupid in some capacity, to have thought that no one would put the pieces together, that no one would pay attention and figure it out and approach him to ask about it.

And so Spot didn’t utter a word. He could flat out lie to Hotshot, but he doubted she would believe him. He could leave, but she’d just ask him again and again until he had no choice but to tell her. And he could tell her to forget all about it, but Hotshot was his friend and he couldn’t bring himself to do that to her.

A muscle clenched in his jaw. He didn’t look at her.

“Fine. You want me to say it? I like him. I like Race. That’s the reason I’ve been spending time at the tracks, that’s while I have a cigar in my hand, that’s why I’m wary when people say his name or mention Manhattan.” He took a deep breath. “And now you’ve gotten what you wanted, so I’d appreciate it if you just left me alone now. And don’t even think of mentioning this to anyone else. You’ll regret it if you do.”

Usually when Spot threatened people, they didn’t laugh. But that’s what Hotshot did, loudly and heartily before saying, “And that’s the classic Spot I know, always making things more difficult than they have to be. Seriously, was that so hard?”

He didn’t respond.

“But really,” she said quietly, the metal of the fire escape creaking as she stood, “I’m happy for you.”

Then the moment was broken as she laughed again, clapped him on the shoulder, and said, “Now I’m going inside before you throw me off the fire escape.”

When he didn’t answer, she turned and made her way up the rickety stairs. The sound of a window shutting alerted him to her departure, and he closed his eyes.

What had he gotten himself into?

-

[jesncin]

I’d really like to hear your thoughts on MAWS characters alongside Lois, if you want to do that of that’s entirely up to you but it would be really interesting ^_^

I've written about maws a fair bit on this blog! You can find my general thoughts on the jesncin talks maws tag and my massive maws Lois essay here for my thoughts on her. Suffice to say I'm not a fan of this show, lol. I haven't been able to stomach watching season 2 so my entire knowledge is limited to season 1. With that said, roundup of my thoughts on maws characters:

Clark Kent: boring. Vanilla. Critical lack of hero motivation and idealism outside of "people are getting hurt!" as a platitude. Just some guy who does chores because that's the nice thing to do. Not defeating the Superman Is Boring allegations- just has an uwu cute cinnamon roll himbo filter on it.

Lois Lane: xenophobic asian lois lane is the worst crime ever committed to me. A historically jaded, award winning, accomplished career woman fighting against work place misogyny is now a cutesty uwu girl-failure who needs the help of two men to get hired. Barf.

Jimmy Olsen: I get the attempt at making him a conspiracy theorist as a means of tapping into Jimmy's wacky silver age antics and to bounce off of Clark for shenanigans, but it doesn't meaningfully interrogate how that is at odds with his job as a journalist. Also he was sidelined hard in S1- more than he was in CW Supergirl.

Perry White: I was hoping that unlike STAS and if MAWS was going to pull from anime, that this meant strong relationships with Superman's cast system. But nope. Perry is just a running gag. I was hoping for a Snapper and Kara dynamic like in CW Supergirl.

Scoop troop (Cat Grant, Ronnie Troupe, Steve Lombard): Superfluous characters, easily delete-able. All of which have been reinterpreted as anime stereotypes. Yawn.

Newskid Legion: Also delete-able and a waste of my time. They should be called newsies. They make no sense as outdated characters placed in a futuristic setting. What is child labor doing this late in the game. Be more creative with modernizing outdated characters.

Pa and Ma Kent: Boring. The biggest problem you can have with the Kents is making them generic supportive parents like they're sentient Hallmark cards. Pa Kent got the bad end of the stick as the clueless parent, while Ma Kent was pushed as the heart of the family to Clark. Not that she did much.

Vicki Vale: Absolutely insane of this show to add another Asian xenophobe woman journalist. The MAWS crew love gloating about how they're not going to include Batman in MAWS, but they can't resist putting a Gothamite in their show and stealing rogues from other heroes. Could've brought Angela Chen (a canonically asian Metropolis reporter) from STAS but I guess she's not as big a name as a Gotham character, eh?

Livewire: the glowdown of a century. DCSHG continues to outperform every modern version of this character. Why make her a generic smuggler when her original job as a shock jokey is far more interesting?? Podcaster or influencer was right there. Her motives make no sense too.

Intergang crew: Why. Did they consolidate. Banshee with two random rogues (Mist & Roughouse) and call them Intergang. That's so many glowdowns at once. I've never seen someone look at a hero's diverse rogues gallery and say "let's consolidate all these characters so we have less material to work with in the future". I hate how the rogues are all tech based, and share the same origin. These baddies kickstarted the show's "villains with petty crime motivations": no ideological or thematic draw to them.

Ivo/Parasite: Another villain with nonsensical motivations. His business is going bankrupt so he sets up an investor event party to show off his Black Panther Lexo suit (which was apparently a response to Superman! A stranger that we can't trust! And somehow these expensive suits are more trustworthy) only to attack his investors and get owned by Superman. Then he just has a hateful vendetta against Superman. People who think this is a good Parasite interpretation because they projected vague Elon Musk are kidding themselves. I could clown on MAWS' Ivo all day. He is so badly written.

Heatwave: Why genderbend a Flash villain when Superman already has a Fire Woman in his rogues gallery? Volcana? Remember her? She's from the same show yall got Livewire from? Praise this show all you want for "reigniting interest in Superman", it's clear they're willing to toss away actual Superman cast characters for more popular characters from other heroes when it suits them. What's Heatwave's motivations? Petty crime.

Slade Wilson/Deathstroke: Imagine building this character up to be a big threat only to do nothing with him lol. I can't take him seriously, his voice acting is the worst and I hate his design. This show is so desperate to make attractive villains for fangirls it's frankly pathetic. How did people even mistaken him for Superman? He doesn't FLY.

Mallah and The Brain: This is what happens when you revive gay villains and put them through the HarlIvy Respectability Beam on fast forward. The gay villains aren't villains anymore! Because that would be bad representation! They're now cute cuddly domestic dads who want to raise robot children and run away together!! How TRITE. Mallah has "american faking a french accent" syndrome but bad voice acting is the norm in this show.

Mxy: The one time they include a villain that Lois and Jimmy could easily help Superman defeat (Mxy's whole deal is that you can send him to his dimension by tricking him to spell or say his name backwards) they opt to make it even dumber by just "removing his hat". Because the MAWS crew aren't smart enough to think of ways Superman and his pals can trick Mxy. For the record, CW Supergirl got this right in comparison.

Legion of Loises: It's the way this show can't write competent women even when that's the goal. All the characters act so stupid and that includes the Legion of Loises. At least MAWS!Lois learns the important lesson that even though she's not as accomplished as these career focused versions of her, at least she can keep her man. Misogyny in a cute package.

Alex/Lex Luthor: Go away. Ugly design I can't stand him. Miserable voice acting as usual.

Amanda Waller: She's pretty generic here. Playing second fiddle to Sam Lane for the most part, but this show has a problem with fleshing out Black characters in general so.

Sam Lane: We now have up to THREE asian xenophobes in MAWS season 1. The crew did not think their diversity through because at the end of the day S1 was really about a White Guy Alien getting oppressed by mostly people of color. Without a hint of irony.

Jor-El: I thought the language barrier between him and Clark was an inspired choice and clever as a means of postponing Clark learning about his heritage. But nope. Jor-El just starts magically talking in English later on. Otherwise boring and generic!

Brainy: I know he's prominent in S2 so I can't speak much for his character from the small impression I got of him in S1, but I can say that he looks mad ugly <3 truly horrible rogues designs in this show.

PHEW!! That's my roundup of MAWS character opinions! Wild how I can't even pinpoint a character I like on this show, lol. I know Kara's in S2 as well, and what I've seen of her sounds awful. Her design is bad too. I'm just not ready for the heartbreak of meeting that version of her because I love Supergirl so much :((

[deardiary1899]

I haven't posted in a while but do any of yall think any of the newsies are just, local heartthrobs for many new york men, women, etc? Or, in simpler words, who's popular with the people?

It doesn't HAVE to be romantic, but, I believe that humans are naturally curious beings, and so there's no way no upper class kids have ever thought of trying to hang around the newsies, or any lower classed people

Jack is the first to come to mind (other than Race because, of course I think of him first, but, we'll push him aside for now). He's definitely a charmer-- might have gotten a bit too close with a few people, but never close enough to have something serious. Oh, and he's definitely some kind of role model for a lot of kids-- He probably sees them on the street a few times, and they always try to mimic the way he talks, acts and all-- It's just fun to be Jack Kelly!!

Davey is a respectable and kind of awkward guy, but, man, it's an awkward that's pretty cute, y'know? He's like,,, a someone that people would find hard to start a convo with, but if you know the right things to coax him, you'd be hitting it off w him intellectually and whatever else. He's fairly popular? He knows a nice grandma who owns a sweet shop near the school that Les goes to, and a few other nice people from around Manhattan from buying an apple, a book, or whatnot!

Albert, Albert, Albert! I don't think he'd actively be looking out for people to form a connection with (outside the newsies)? He looks like the kind of newsie that everyone sees walking by, and finds handsome or something-- nice face, and all. Though, Albert wouldn't mind if anyone approached him, really, he just prioritizes the connections he already has!! Probably, he's like, some guy that people have small talk with but drops some mind blowing philosophical realization before he runs off to wherever in Manhattan.

Elmer and Crutchie! I think they'd be popular with a lot of people, namely girls? because they're just soo cute! They're sweethearts, and gentlemen in their one way, Although, I'd say Elmer is a bit more rowdy? A bit loud, but he means well! This may probably be a disadvantage as much as it is an advantage for them? They look like the type of people that would eeaaaasily be shimmered down to a few or one trait (COUGHCOUGHCRUTCHIECOUGHCOUGH) so, they're probably more like "entertainment"? Or "Pleasing to the eye" as of the moment, until the people are just ready to move on.

And, ohhhhh, Race!!! Debate me on this, but, he's definitely THE heartthrob here. I'm probably just down bad (I am), but, have you SEEN HIM? He's got wit, a cute smile, tons of energy and lots of hard work built in that body! I'm suuuper biased because he's my fav, but, hear me out-- he's THE guy everyone would be obsessed with in a modern highschool au setting because he's just RACE! He's got a natural charm and confidence, and people often mistake him as flirting when he's reaaally just trying to be nice, most of the time! He goes the extra mile for people he likes, that's for sure, but, I guess? Race is Manhattan's sweetheart, in short? Am I stretching it if I said even folks in the Bronx, Queens, Brooklyn, etc. are interested in him?

Anyhow, those are my thoughts and headcanons about it-- might be off the chart, who knows, but hey, if anyone else has their own interpretation, I'd be stoked to hear it too! Thanks to anyone who has read this far!

[chaosfairy18]

On a roll today with Bumswiftery thoughts

So obviously no one can be a newsie forever. You get too old, you can't stay in the lodge anymore no matter how many blind eyes Kloppman is turning to anyone. So you need some idea what you want to do, and Bumlets has had it ever since Flipper has been coughing more and more, looking sick almost all the time. Maybe living in the countryside isn't a perfect solution, but he's sure it would help at least a bit and promises the kid they'd get out eventually, leave the city, live near the coast. (As coughs wrack the frail boy with no real explanation once more, deep in the night. "I promise we'll get out there, Phillip. You'll feel better.")

It becomes even more real as he gets closer to Skittery, sees his episodes first hand. He becomes paranoid, thinks he's being watched and everyone is looking at him, no matter how unlikely. After one of those nights where Swifty had to hold him down so he wouldn't hurt himself - or others - or even run and Bumlets gently talked him down it's the same promise he makes ("Somewhere clean and green and pretty like Jack always says." "You can't tell me you believe in Santa Fe-" "Never said New Mexico. Something closer. Just somewhere with less people, with more freedom to be ourselves. Don't you think it could help?")

And it takes a while, even Tumbler and Flipper are almost aged out when Bumlets, Skittery and Swifty find the money from their new jobs to scrape enough together to make it, but they do.

A while later they find a mostly broken little farmhouse in Pennsylvania, they can afford it, if barely, and start living as self-sufficient as they can. Eventually there are chickens, sheep, a vegetable garden and fields, though Swifty finds out he's allergic to hay and mostly keeps to the garden and herding the sheep. And, eventually, hunting. He has a steady hand and there was a day where he noticed that he's sitting at home, sewing, fixing clothes, tending to the garden, while the others are on the field and he wanted to feel more useful less like a housewife and went out. (Sometimes the comments from the townspeople, jokes about how one of them needs to do all the woman's chores get to him more than he lets on)

They don't go to the market often, but when they do they try to stick together. Skittery's paranoia is better, most days, now that there are less people, but one can never be sure. They get a cat (on Tumbler's insistence, he names her Skittles, you'll never guess who she reminded him of) and a dog, as per Flipper's request, for herding the sheep.

Most days it is great, most days they are happy, sometimes get visits from Kit and Kat (who missed Flipper and Tumbler), sometimes Spot comes with them to make sure they aren't any trouble (and if he's already there why not bring Race). But there are always bad days, no matter how well your intentions are.

It starts with Skittery more closed off than usual, clearly agitated by something. At a tiny argument about where to store some milk he snaps that they never truly love him and that they would eventually get tired or pretending to take care of him out of pity. Of playing house with him when they clearly hate him. The glass breaks and Bumlets, probably more harsh than he should have says. ("Vincent, clean that, I-" But he doesn't get farther as Swifty snaps as well. "I'm not your housewife. Ask me normally or do it yourself. I'm tired of... maybe Michael is right, maybe this is all just us playing something.")

They both storm off, Swifty in his sewing room - Bumlets can hear things breaking - and Skittery somewhere outside. Wondering for a second what he'd done, he runs outside, first seeing Flipper and Tumbler on the stairs, snapping at them to go to their room, then seeing Skittery go into the woods. He has to go after him, it's dangerous, it is getting dark but- He halts near the barn, suddenly overwhelmed. He sinks to the ground, breath getting erratic. Bumlets is tired of chasing after them, keeping everything together. He's exhausted.

But he loves them, punching the ground in frustration before collapsing even further, sobs wracking his body.

What if he only brought them pain, what if his great idea only hurt all of them in the end?

(Flipper later comes out to try and calm him down while Tumbler goes into the woods to find his brother. Bumlets goes, with Flipper, back into the house and first talks to Swifty, then they set out into the woods to find Skittery afterwards)

Whoops, more Angst

[baura-bear]

MAURA MAURA MAURA hiii :333 how are you how's stuff going!!! popping in to check in on you. hope you're feeling better bc i know you had a tougher time lately!!

and im here to dump my trans4trans javid tthoughts here. ok so i once read a really nice fanfic that portrayed david as presenting as a boy first to get a job as a newsboy after mayer's injury (i imagine they didn't take in girls or at least not too eagerly) and it was the first time he ever felt good and like truly himself. plus the name he chose . david. it was powerful and had significance as he was a Jewish person and like. obviously he felt so great!! and he also binded. though he was so anxious that the newsies would see that he isn't a "real" boy (obviously only using such wording to like. illustrate david's thoughts) but they didn't!! and david was welcomed and obviously there was also jack. and they were pretty infatuated right from the start. ok now just wanted to make clear that im just sharing my thoughts now. as for jack's transness i think the guys at the lodge all know? they've known jack for so long and he's their friend and he definitely trusts them a lot and obviously they support him! he's their guy!!! he's jack!!!! but they also obviously don't tell anyone that jack is trans. jack doesn't tell either. but as i was saying. jack and dave connect immediately and they get pretty enamored right away, and everyone could see that as well. and i imagine the first time jack learned that david is trans was when he had the talk with pulitzer... and pulitzer obviously disclosed some pretty personal information about david (his deadname) along with threatening to hurt his family if jack didn't comply. and since then jack knew obviously, and i think that only made him fall harder because. what are the odds that the guy you're in love with is *like you* in such a deep way? that he'll be able to understand you? that he'll take you seriously and you won't have to worry about not being perceived as a real guy? and after the strike when jack came back and everything was okay again. they definitely got closer and closer until eventually the inevitable Thing happened. a kiss probably or just a touch that was so unmistakably tender that they couldn't ignore their feelings any longer. and jack, before saying that he's in love, says that he knows david is trans. david literally gets paler than a sheet of paper and panics and wants to start apologizing but then jack quickly cuts him off with "no, dave, me-- me too! it's okay!" and then it sinks in for david and he's also so overwhelmed but in a good way and he can't help but just laugh and probably stim a bit because he's delighted for the same reason that jack is!!! and they definitely confess their feelings and they're so so very happy together. two boys in love :-)

DAVE DAVE DAVE!!!!! HI!!! Thank you for checking in :))) I’m alright! School starts soon so I’m a little nervy but I’m ok. I hope you’re doing well!!!!!

I HAVE DEFINITELY READ PART OF THIS FIC BEFORE (idk if I finished it but I remember loving it)

The the part about Jack finding out about Dave in Pulitzers office. Like,,, he realizes how much more danger David is in than he initially thought. And like it completely changes Jack and Snyder’s dynamic and why Snyder is so obsessed with catching this boy and how brutal his time in the Refuge might have been

And,,, David finding out that Jack knows. His entire world falls out from beneath him and he thinks this is just another person that he drove away because he doesn’t know how to be normal but the second he realizes Jack is safe he probably cries through laughter because what the fuck what a roller coaster of emotions to go on. And they just hug each other for a really long time and David probably says something about thinking he was the only one. And Jack’s like “oh boy have I got a surprise for you” because there are so many trans newsies (because I said so)

Also it makes David so happy to hear Les happily running around telling everyone that David is his older brother :’)

t4t Javid is the only Javid I love them sm

[miryum]

The Pawn (Newt x Reader)

This is a fic I’ve been working on for a while... I’ve changed up the ending like, three times 😅 I hope y’all like it

Warnings: Talk of Newt’s limp, mentions of attempted suicide, Newt’s backstory, near-death experience, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, OOC for Gally (a little bit), another only girl in a glade, newsie reference, cheesy ending I’m unsure about

“It’s getting out of hand.” 

“No, we can’t afford to send her up yet.” 

“A5’s depression is off the charts! If we don’t do something soon, things could escalate.”

“A11 is not ready. If we send her to them, we don’t know what could happen!”

“But we need A5 more than we need A11. He’s the glue. We knew there would be casualties and hardships with this. But we were prepared to make those for the greater good. We need A5. If A11 can help him, we should send her up.” 

“I- I don’t want to mess it up this time.”

“Yeah, neither do I. But don’t you remember their connection? It has to be done.”

“Okay then.”

Click! 

“Send up A11. The Pawn.”

**

Minho ran out of the maze, carrying something heavy in his arms and yelling like a maniac.

Boys started rushing towards him and too many things happened in a whirlwind of tragedy and confusion. After everything had died down, Alby cornered a tear- streaked Minho in the Med- Hut. 

“What happened?” He demanded.

“Newt-” Minho’s voice broke, “I found him almost dead. I don’t know what happened. I knew he was sad and tired of being here, but I never knew it was that bad. I- I found him on the ground, just laying there and it was horrible. Alby, I thought he was dead.” 

Alby took Minho in his arms, hugging the boy tightly. Minho shook with cries, the after effect of Newt’s near- death experience breaking him down.

Clint and Jeff flew around Newt’s unconscious body, the movement around him becoming too much for Minho and he had to leave. Alby whispered things and concerns to the Med- Jacks, trying to hide his own emotions, before following him.

Exiting the Med- Hut, Alby ran a hand down his face. He’d have no idea what to do with himself if Newt died. Newt was the glue of the Glade. Alby thanked the Creators that Newt didn’t die in the maze right then. Did Newt jump? Why did he jump? How else would he have gotten in the condition he was in?

A loud, hysterical, wailing echoed through the Glade. Alby’s head whipped up at the sound of the Box coming up. What the hell? First Newt, and now the Box coming up way too early, with a potential, confused greenie.

Gally opened the Box and the boys (excluding the Med- Jacks and Newt) huddled around it. Alby and Gally jumped down into it. Inside there was a girl who was starting to wake up.

Immediately, the whispers started. “It’s a girl?” “It’s a girl.” “How the hell?” “Is that even legal?” 

“Everyone!” Alby yelled out, silencing the crowd. “It was bound to happen sometime. I know this is a change, but we’re going to welcome her like any other greenie.” 

“By having Gally pound her to the ground at the bonfire?” Someone from the back yelled out. The boys snickered. 

“Gally, what’s that in her hand?” Alby asked, squatting down beside the girl. 

The girl groaned and started to sit up. “Where am I?” The girl groaned. 

“In the Glade, greenie.” Gally snarked. 

“Gally, help her up.” Both boys helped the girl up. “What’s your name?” 

“Uh, Y/n.” The girl stammered and held her head.

“You’re a girl.” Gally stated bluntly. 

“Uh, yeah.” Y/n looked him up and down, “You’re a boy. What’s the Glade? And why are you surprised I’m a girl? Do you guys know what this note is?” 

“We’d all like to know the answer to the last two.” Alby sighed, overwhelmed by the news of the first girl and Newt’s attempt to end his life.

The boys helped Y/n out of the Box where she took in the Glade, the maze walls, and the large clump of boys staring at her curiously. 

“Everyone, get back to your jobs!” Alby called out, waving a hand to try and get the boys to disperse. With a lot of muttering and conversations, they did. 

“Am I the only girl here?” Y/n asked. 

“Yes,” Alby cleared his throat, “unfortunately, with you coming up in the box, it’s going to mean a lot of changes for us. I’ll get the Builders started right away on a shed for you, and-” 

“Alby.” Gally cut into his nervous rambling. “Go make sure Newt’s okay. Minho and I’ll take care of the greenie.” 

“Oh. Thanks.” Alby sped off. 

Y/n said, “Why can’t I remember anything?” 

“That’s normal, greenbean.” Gally clapped a hand onto Y/n’s shoulder, “No one can remember klunk when they first come up.”

“Klunk? Greenie? What the hell are you talking about?” 

Minho came up behind the two, “It’s glader slang. I invented most of it.” 

“Greenie is what we call new boys- well, I guess people now, who come up in the box.” Gally explained. Minho glanced at him. Usually he was much more impertinent to the greenies. 

“The Glade is this place,” Minho answered some of the most common questions, “It’s where Alby came up first and then all of us came up after him. Alby created what it is today, all of us contributing in our own way. Sorry that you can’t have a normal welcome to the Glade, but we’re all kind of shocked that you’re a girl.” 

“You don’t have to keep stating that fact.” Y/n glanced at him. “And what is that?” She pointed to the large four walls surrounding them. 

“That’s the maze.” Gally interrupted Minho before he could break down again. “It’s what keeps us trapped in here. It completely surrounds us.” 

“Shank, what’s in your hand?” Minho pointed to Y/n clenched fingers that were clutching a crumpled piece of paper. 

“Uh, I don’t know.” Y/n smoothed out the paper which revealed the crude words: 

                                          Get her to A5. Immediately.

“What’s A5? Who’s A5?”

Gally looked at her, “Greenie, who’s A5?” 

“Hell if I know.” Y/n shrugged. 

“Shouldn’t we take her on a tour of the Glade?” Minho asked Gally, “That’s what Alby or Newt would do.” 

“Newt?” Y/n’s interest seemed to perk up. “Who’s Newt?” 

“Uh,” Gally quickly looked at Minho, gauging the boy’s emotions. “Newt’s kind of like the unofficial second- in- command. Though, maybe he’ll become the official one after today. We’ve all just realised how much we need him.” Minho swallowed and Gally continued, “Uh, he’s a Runner and is usually in charge of showing the greenies around because of his… kind and charismatic nature, if you will.”

“Well, what’s wrong? Why isn’t he here?” Y/n asked, oddly concerned for the boy she’d never met. 

“We’re not exactly sure.” Gally said, not looking at the girl. “Minho found him in the maze. He was in bad condition.” 

“He was in the maze?!” Y/n’s voice got louder. “You let people go into the maze?!” 

“Yeah,” Minho got defensive about his role, “we have to find some way out of here!” 

After a moment of hesitation, Y/n asked, “Could I see him?” 

“Um.” Minho and Gally shot each other an odd look. Y/n couldn’t quite understand what they were trying to communicate, but after a moment, Gally said, “I don’t see why not?” It came out as a question. 

Y/n followed Minho, quite fervently, to the Med- Hut. Minho led Y/n and Gally up the stairs to where Newt was currently laying, Clint still puttering around him and Jeff talking to Alby. 

Alby glanced up when the trio came inside, a confused look on his face. “What’s going on?” He asked. 

“Uh, the greenie asked to see Newt. She also came with this note.” Minho said, giving the piece of paper to Alby. 

“She?” Jeff craned his neck around Alby and looked wide- eyed at Y/n. “The greenie’s a girl?” 

“A5?” Alby mumbled, “You don’t think that could be…” He trailed off and his eyes flicked to Newt. 

“How’s Newt?” Minho asked Clint. 

Clint sighed and said, “he’ll live. That’s for certain. Thank the Creators that you found him soon enough. But… his leg’s busted pretty badly, and I think he’ll need crutches for a good while.” 

“Will he ever get better?” 

“I don’t know.” Clint shrugged. Jeff nodded sadly along. “I think it’s a high possibility that he could have a limp the rest of his life.” 

“So no more running, huh?” Minho darkly chuckled, trying to find humour in the bitter news. 

“Unfortunately, probably not.” Jeff confirmed his fears. 

“At least he’s alive,” Gally reminded Minho. Minho nodded, but didn’t say anything. 

“What is she doing here?” Alby said, almost to himself. “She’s oddly calm about this- only focusing on Newt. Y/n,” he said to the girl, “can you remember anything?” 

“No.” Y/n frowned, “It’s very unsettling. But I feel like I’m forgetting something very important. Like, I’m here for a reason. I’m supposed to feel an overwhelming emotion, but I don’t know what.”

“Do you wanna continue the tour?” Gally asked. Usually greenies wanted to know everything all at once and they had so many questions it made him want to run into the maze. 

“Do I have to?” Y/n looked at Alby, who shook his head.

“We can finish tomorrow.” He said, “Do you want to stay here with Newt?” 

“Uh, oddly, yes.” Y/n moved to the corner of the room, out of Jeff and Clint’s way. 

Minho, Gally, and Alby exited, shutting the door quietly. 

“What the hell is going on?” Gally wondered. “Newt tried to kill himself then the box came, completely off schedule may I add, only carrying this girl- who’s the first girl in the Glade! And she immediately connects with Newt. She wants to stay with him, even though she doesn’t have any memories and doesn’t know who the shuck he is!” 

“Thanks for the recap, Gally.” Minho rolled his eyes.

“You’re welcome.” Gally said coldly. Alby could sense tensions rising, so he stepped in between them. 

“Gally, I want you to start building a small hut for Y/n; right away. She’ll have to sleep in a hammock in the meantime. Minho, go tell everyone that the bonfire is still happening and that tomorrow I’m going to call a Glade- wide meeting to discuss the new rules pertaining to the arrival of our greenie.” The Runner nodded and took off. Gally sighed, not looking forward to the extra work, but headed off to corral the Builders.

**

Newts’ first thought when he came to was, I hope I’m dead. But when he recognized the familiar view of the Med- Hut, Newt almost cried. 

“You’re awake,” An unknown voice commented. “How are you feeling?”

Newt’s blurry vision cleared and for a minute, he was sure he’d gone to heaven for in front of him was an angel. A girl who was foreign to him came into view. She had h/c hair and e/c coloured eyes. But the thing that struck Newt the most was the genuine concern, mixed with a dash of happiness and relief, etched into her face.

“Who are you?” Newt’s voice was hoarse and he tried to sit up on his elbows. 

The girl shook his head and moved to push him back down, but paused. “No, no.” She said, “You need to lay down. I’m Y/n. I’m the ‘greenie.’” She laughed, “Minho’s been trying to teach me all of the slang. It’s a lot to remember and adjust to.”

“Y/n?” Newt didn’t understand. “How long was I out?”

“Two days,” Y/n told him. “Come to think of it, I really should get Clint and Jeff. And Alby and Minho. And everyone. They’re all really worried.” She stood up.

“You’re a girl.” Newt stated obviously. He still couldn’t get over the fact. 

“And yet everyone seems so surprised by that.” Y/n sighed. “I came up right after you… had your accident.” She sat back down. “There was a note in my hand that said ‘Bring her to A5’. I assume that’s you?” Newt shook his head, confused. “I don’t know myself.” Y/n continued, “Apparently, I’m the first girl here, which has given you guys quite the shock. Sorry about that.”

“How’ve you been accommodating?” Newt asked, feeling his protective instinct come over him. 

Y/n laughed. “I think I should be asking you that. But, could you tell me,” she paused and cleared her throat, “what happened in the maze?”

“I…” Newt trailed off, tears starting to come to his eyes.

“You don’t have to talk about it.” Y/n quickly retracted her point. When, if ever, he wanted to talk, she would be there. Until then, she would stay by him. She took a deep breath, in and out, eyes trailing around the room. “So anyway,” she continued, “I’m going to tell your friends that you’re not dead. I’m sure they’ll want to hear that. Good news for everyone.” 

Y/n exited, Newt looking after her. He was confused about who she was but also didn’t want her to go, oddly enough. He wanted her to stay and to tell her all that had happened. He wanted to tell her about what had gone through his mind right before and after he jumped. But mostly, he just wanted her to hold his hand and tell her it would be alright. 

It was a weird feeling, wanting to be comforted by someone you didn’t know and wasn’t even sure they should be here. Newt was still puzzled over the crazy coincidence that right after his incident, the first girl in the Glade came up in the Box. But, he didn’t have much time to puzzle, as for right that second, Minho and Alby came rushing in along with Clint and Jeff. 

Clint and Jeff immediately went to Newt’s bedside, whispering questions to Newt, checking on his leg, and starting all sorts of tests and procedures. Minho breathed a sigh of relief, and Alby nodded slowly and tiredly once he saw Newt upright. Y/n, seeing that everyone was where they were supposed to be, smiled and slipped into the background. 

**

Newt was slowly adjusting to life back in the Glade. He was up and around again, for only an hour or two a day and under Clint or Jeff’s constant supervision. He heavily relied on crutches and never ever answered questions about what happened that day in the maze. Whenever someone asked him, he would be simply hum and shake his head, muttering something about later. Minho was at his side nonstop, whispering and joking, trying to get his best friend back. 

Y/n had turned to the life of a cook and a Mapmaker. She studied the maps and planned out the routes for the Runners while they ran and helped them map their routes after they came back. When she wasn’t in the map room, she was with Frypan, helping him slug vegetables to the kitchen and slice the fruits for when he needed them. She hardly ever left the kitchen or Frypan’s side, with whom she had become great friends with, the map room, or her small hut that Gally had constructed after a couple days. 

The rest of the Gladers thought of her as an elusive being. They hardly ever saw her, aside from meals, and she didn’t talk to them much, content with being in her own world. Frypan, however, would say differently. Y/n talked and hummed while working, and he learned all about her days in the map room and her thoughts, many of which he asked about and started a conversation about. 

Untrue to her word, Y/n avoided Newt. She had promised herself to stay by him but let herself down. She would see him limping by, conversing with Minho, a far- off, sad look in his eye and want to go talk to him but something always held her back. Frypan continuously hinted that it would be good for his recovery if he had someone else to talk to and maybe he would open up about his depression, but she would just wave him away. 

Like Y/n, Newt wanted to talk to her too. He would be staring off into space, foot tapping absentmindedly, when he would see her. She would be working with Frypan or coming out of the map room and Newt would wonder what it would be like to hug her, or even talk to her. She was a phantom limb that Newt knew he needed, but could never grow back. An ironic situation to be in. If one has ever felt as if they wanted someone so badly or needed them to simply live, then they would know how Newt felt. He would just be happy to sit next to Y/n. They didn’t have to talk- he just wanted to sit by her. 

One day, Y/n had felt enough guilt from seeing Newt hobble around the Glade. She knocked on his Med- Hut door and after hearing a soft, ‘come in’, she entered.

“Newt?” Y/n pressed her lips into a smile. “Hi. Can we talk?” 

“Yeah.” Newt sat up, happy to have a reason to abandon his meal. 

“How are you?”

“I’m fine.” 

“Please, tell me the truth.”

Newt was about to protest, but huffed and frowned. For some reason, he felt obligated to tell her. And not only obligated- he wanted to. “I’m not well. I’m pissed that it didn’t work. I was so… done with everything. And I feel like I still am. Why couldn’t it work? Why am I here? And I’m tired. I’m tired of feeling like this. I just want to be done.”

Y/n sat down at the bottom of his bed. “I’m sure. I know you have a lot of contradicting feelings right now, but know that your friends are very happy you’re alive.” After a brief silence, she said, “Alby thinks I was sent up here to help you.”

“And what do you think?”

“I think that there’s an official greenie day coming up, and it might be fun to go.”

“Uh, I’m not sure.”

“Okay. How about we stay here and play a card game or something. Or we could talk.”

Newt shook his head. “I wouldn’t want to deprive you of your first greenie bonfire.”

“I’m sure I’m not missing anything. Plus, there’ll be another one next month.”

“No, you should go. It’ll be fun.” Newt tried to encourage her. 

“Newt, stop thinking of everyone else for a moment and think of you. Do you think it’ll be fun to hang out with me?” Newt nodded and Y/n smiled. “Great. Then I’m coming over.” Newt started to protest, but the girl shut him down. “Selflessness is an amazing, admirable, and attractive quality to have, but if it puts more stress on you, it’s not worth it. You come first.” Y/n stood, kissed Newt on the forehead, and left. 

Newt let her words sink in, letting them resonate with him. What really got to him though, was that Y/n hadn’t known him for long- just met him in fact, and was already being kind and sweet to him. She was taking care of him- something no one had ever done. Her kiss seemed to burn on his forehead and after all of his thoughts, his last one was: does she think I’m attractive?

**

Y/n placed down a Queen of Hearts. Newt thought for a moment before placing down an Ace of Hearts. 

“Damn it!” Y/n groaned, throwing down her cards. Newt laughed at her display. “How are you so good at this?! I’m the one that taught you.”

“Guess I’m just lucky.” Newt grinned.

“Yes, you are.” They had been at cards for three hours now, mixed in with chatting and many laughs. Newt had won 13 of them, and Y/n 5. The sounds of the bonfire were muffled behind them and though the noises might’ve been enticing for anyone else, for Y/n and Newt it was simply white noise. They were perfectly content in the company of the other.

Minho and Gally had checked in on them at one point, Gally bringing both of them a brew of his special drink. Y/n had pushed hers away after the first sip and Newt had happily taken it. The liquid had loosened Newt up a bit, him chattering away, talking more than Y/n had ever heard him talk. Newt would slip in comments about his depression and Y/n would take them to heart and make a mental note of them to think about later. 

After a long night, Y/n had announced that she was going to try and get some sleep. Newt nodded and warned her about the sheer amount of hungover boys she would see in the morning. Y/n laughed and said she would take the warning to heart. 

Once she exited Newt’s room, Y/n sighed deeply and rubbed her temples harshly. She slowly made her way to her hut, the sounds and sights of the bonfire only a tiny speck in the distance. After tonight, Y/n was sure of her feelings for Newt. She felt bad for the boy, but she also loved his company and his caring personality. It also didn’t hurt that he was hot. But was it okay to feel for a boy she hadn’t known that long? Were her feelings only of infatuation or something more? 

Ever since she came up in the Box, Y/n had felt a strong attraction to Newt. The note she came up with, labelling her as A11, added to her confusion.

An impulse decision burst through her and Y/n turned on her heel, marching back to Newt’s room. Throwing open the door, Y/n started speaking, ignoring Newt’s confused expression. “What’s going on between us?” Y/n asked. Newt blinked, shocked at her outburst. “I mean,” she continued, “am I imagining things? And I don’t know if the creators are just conducting our strings, but I really hope not because I want these feelings I have for you to be real. I really really like you, Newt and I hope I haven’t messed everything up by telling you.”

After a short second, Newt let out a small laugh. Y/n took a deep breath, having known rejection was on the table. His laugh only confirmed that. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ll leave.”

Newt rapidly shook his head, quickly shouting out, “No! Y/n, bloody hell, I just thought I was another one of the hormonal boys who kid themselves.” His smile said it all, ”You’re a wonderful, kind, and lovely girl, watching over me and all, and I thought it was because I’m pathetic and you felt sorry for me but now I know it was something more. And I’m so glad it was.”

“Really?” Y/n asked softly. Newt’s smile, a full, true, happy smile that hadn’t graced his face for a long time told Y/n all she needed to know. 

Newt struggled to get out of his bed and Y/n rushed to help him. “Shuck, I hate this.” He muttered, both knowing he was talking of his limp. “I- I would’ve never jumped if I knew you were coming.”

“But I’m here because you jumped.” Y/n said, Newt wrapping a hand around her waist for stability. Y/n looped her arms around him and a loose hug.

He grinned down at her and said, “I guess there was something good that came out of it. I still can’t believe you like me too.”

“Course I do.”

“Good, because I’m not sure what I will do without you.”

“We make a pretty good team.”

Newt’s smile never dissolved as he leaned down to kiss her. “We really do.”

[fresh-avoguecado]

Growing up as a trans guy afraid of Hell

I have this little creature that lives in my chest, right below my collarbone.

She's always peeking through my eyes, always smiling.

Her name is a tree. Aspen. My inner child or something like that.

She has this thick mane that she wears in pigtails- so often that her hair has semi-permanent dents where the ties grip. 

She doesn't like wearing it down.

She's a little girl who only understands "she" and "girl" to be a conglomeration of sounds used to address her. She makes people laugh and she laughs a lot herself. 

She's curious about the world, the first baby of a family whose children have just turned into adults. She's loved really really well at this age. 

She'll switch to perma-ponytails next. She doesn’t like having hair in her face.

She sees a brown pageboy cap in a store and tries sticking the ponytail up in it. She likes how it looks. Like Newsies.

Aspen cuts the hair short for the first time. Like, committed to the shortness for a hot second short.

Aspen stops using pronouns for Aspen when thinking. Do other girls feel like this? Boys too? They must right? I don't think it's supposed to hurt.

 I'll just keep quiet. I can fix this.

Something in the kid is having trouble seeing the positives of growing up. But puberty is a lifetime away. Aspen has been a kid for forever so far, so that worry- 

-that weird thing called "womanhood" 

  wasn't anything to worry about anytime soon.

Not to worry. Not to worry. Aspen doesn't need to feel worry. 

Aspen is a very mature kid. All the teachers say so. Aspen is a paradox. 

The polite class clown. The charming and desirable tomboy. Everyone likes Aspen. And Aspen likes God so much and so Bravely n' Publicly that everyone in Churchome likes Aspen too.

The wonderkid is thoughtful, wonderfully spontaneous and compassionate. Pretty. Wonderkid is too talented and too well-loved by the family to not have all artistic dreams supported.

Aspen takes a Logic class.

IF  (grateful to have opportunities) AND (want the family to love you/go to heaven)

THEN (- cannot betray the familygod by becoming like that. Like becoming one of those people who are either the butt of a joke or a sexual adventure onscreen.)

Not when they have invested so much.

I was supposed to be better than that.

I-

I-

It would be sinful.

Aspen really wanted to go to heaven.

In heaven- it would all make sense, in heaven, the kid wouldn't feel this way about his body. He wouldn't- she-

I didn't want to be a she. I didn't want to be a she. It was wrong. 

What was wrong with me?

I read on a Christian blog that sometimes the mind needs visual symbolism to help get a point across.

“Try writing whatever negative thoughts you have about yourself on a piece of paper. Burn it, and watch as His light covers over the page and destroys your sin. Give your burden to the Lord.”

I write the word FREAK over and over again on a piece of paper and then I burn it on our porch.

I can fix this.

I. Can. Fix. This. 

I'm so desperate for anything at this point, anything to make the sin of my disgusting ungratefulness go away. I don't understand why God made me a girl. I don’t understand.

Why would He do this to me? I pray for God to show me a reason. God just says "Hold on." Over and over, every time I pray that's all I hear, "Hold on."

I suck up my tears. I genuinely don't know how I will stay alive. I don’t know how many years I’m going to need to “hold on” for until reality itself somehow shifts.

Until the mountains move. 

I am happiest when I am asleep.

But I don't want my parents to know that- I don't want to seem ungrateful or like I'm mentally ill when they have only ever treated me like the perfect faultless angels that they are.

I am a bad daughter.

I hate being a daughter.

I hate being in this body.

I can't fucking escape it.

I can't runaway from my own skin.

I tried I tried I tried-

I’m fifteen, running barefoot on concrete until I leave bloody tracks.

I read and I read and I read. 

I relate to Frankenstein's monster.

I want to stop existing like this more than anything.

"Hold on."

I'm angry at God for sticking me in this gender- from making me live in a world where being trans is a sin. For making it so that obeying Him means living a Freaky Friday nightmare every day of my life for years and years and years until I die.

I’m so scared of being buried in a dress. 

There's this one acting teacher in Aspen's school who doesn't look at Aspen in the same slightly-too-smiley way most men do. 

This guy calls Aspen "kid" exclusively and nonchalantly gives the kid one of his old pirate costumes after a Peter Pan performance. The boy one. 

The one I had been staring at.

The guy teaches me stage combat and makes me captain.

I later learn that he has a husband. I feel seen by him in a way I haven't felt before.

But it's a sin.

But…

I can't imagine him not going to heaven.

Not when his eyes look at me and say “hold on.”

Sometimes the things we talk about in Bible study make me feel…

I shouldn't feel that way.

"Trust in God" is the blanket answer Churchhome gives me when I ask them questions.

"Hold on," says God. The two words are enough to make me keep trying to fix/not hate myself. To survive for that person I'm going to save. To survive for the next version of me. For my phoenix.

"Hold on." The encouragement is somehow enough but just barely.

I hang on to a thread for the next six years.

The kid watches the people with the kind of body Aspen would grow into go about their lives.

The kid watches as all kinds of adults trade their name cards in for adjectives. People keep misspelling “Aspen” as “Pretty”.

Pretty loves to dance. Pretty loves to play piano. Aspen loves being able to express emotions without talking. Aspen didn't like the way Pretty's voice sounds.

There is a noticeable difference between Aspen's voice and the voice of real boys now. The kid tries not to think about it.

There are helpful YouTube videos explaining why God doesn't make mistakes. Why obedience is so rewarding, even it if doesn't feel like that in the moment- even if you can't comprehend ever being a woman and being truly happy. 

Trust me

Trust me

Trust me

Some people act wary around the kid now. The word gay is tossed around briefly. Briefly-

But the kid quickly works to quell those rumors.

I pray to God every day, trusting God to fix me, begging him to change me. To make me a boy- to pluck me out of this reality and let me be born again. Let me start over the right way for I am defective and want a recall.

Aspen needs a change in the brain.

I can only ever be happy as a girl if I have a lobotomy.

Aspen prays for a lobotomy.

Aspen prays for breast cancer.

Take away that part of myself that isn’t allowed to live. 

Dementor-kiss me and let me be pretty without caring. 

Amen Amen A man a man

The kid is lying sideways in bed. Wearing a black push-up bra. Trying to make it feel not alien.

The kid doesn't understand why the body is sobbing uncontrollably.

What's wrong with me? 

Why do I feel like this? 

What's wrong with me? 

What's wrong with me?

The kid tries standing a little wider, tries hunching the shoulders in, and wearing two sports bras two sizes too tight. The frayed straps often leave red rashes. Worth it.

Wonderkid tries it, and starts feeling better.

He cuts up bedsheets in his room and ties it around his chest so tight that his lungs sound raspy for hours afterward. 

But in the mirror, with that snake-sheet constricting his chest, the kid looks so happy in his pirate costume.

He feels slightly more alive when he tries on a binder for the first time.

He feels so much better that it's scary.

Because that isn't an option.

That isn't an option.

Not for Wonderkid.

Wonderkid moves to New York.

Public school is different than The C.C (Conservative Christian) Homeschool Co-op he was born into.

Aspen tries being Wondergirl for a while, wants to be with be a guy.

Lonely.

Body hurts.

Brain hurts.

Don't really feel anything.

But that's okay, all I need is God. The Lord is my strength and my shield. 

If I'm feeling pain then I must be doing something wrong, I must deserve the consequences. I am sinning by wanting to be a boy and being ungrateful for my gender. I am sixteen years old.

Some part of me trusts that I need to hold on a little longer.

I am always a boy when I dream. I am happiest when I am asleep. I think I have a purpose. I think I need to stay alive a little longer for him. I like the name Thomas.

I'm seventeen. Somewhere in my mind, I say "I can't be a girl forever. This hurts too much."

Another voice says 

"You can't die yet."

Life is supposed to be good, you're just not seeing it right… you need to trust in the Lord.  You have control over your life right? Everything you do has consequences. 

Everything is your fault. 

Dear God- help me lose weight, become more boxy, dear God help me to find a guy that I will actually desire to be with, make my chest smaller, make me stop, dear God Dear God Oh my God-

I cry and cry and cry until I never cry.

I'm still Wonderkid at school. Talented- I've evolved from Pretty to Beautiful now.I'm told to be thankful for my body by my Mother whenever I mention anything. I know I should be thankful. But I'm so ungrateful to God.

I know I’m swine compared to him. To His majesty and grace.

Who am I to question Him and His perfect plan? "For I know the plans I have for you-" I choke out on my bathroom floor, "Plans not to harm you, but to give you a hope and a future." I peel my shaking hands away from my face.

I was never good at memorizing Bible verses, but I always remembered the gist of them pretty well. We were graded on them at Churchome.

I discover that alcohol makes me not care about my body anymore. I drink and I stop caring about the way I have to be when I'm around people. I drink and I stop caring about the future or being trapped in this body or what happens next. I don’t even get hungover.

It's such a relief. A godsend. For a few hours every weekend, I genuinely don't care about being a girl. I can just dance and there are lights and music and everyone’s happy and young-

I really love dancing.

Soy milk increases estrogen so I start avoiding that like the plague- not because I'm… you know, like that or anything. I just don't like the way the female chest looks aesthetically/feels/is/exists/sits/lays/

I can't escape my body I can't escape my body scratches on my skin blame it on eczema-

A quiet stage.

Spotlight.

I’m eighteen. Red curtains lift around me and several cellos start singing.

I am stunning, I am so goddamn beautiful and I and everyone else in the auditorium knows it. 

My technique is clean because I give 120% in every class. At my ballet academy, I'm most teachers' favorite. I love that we aren't allowed to talk in class. I love the way ballet makes my body hurt.

I'm flexible but not as strong as the other dancers- a little heavier too* (*see Not Anorexic) and I haven't had as many years of training under my belt.

But God can I act- I dance with emotion, I dance and the world is superimposed with places I've only been to in movies. 

I'm told that I dance like I've been alive for a really long time. Too long.

I’ve been alive too long like this.

I'm doing semi-clean pirouettes onstage- but in reality, I'm a smoke signal on top of The Great Wall of China- alerting of Hun attacks by burning tall and bright. My superimposed movie. I dance in the dark night wind and horse hooves of the calvary clop on top of smooth stone.

I do a grand jeté and the smoke signal sparks out orange fireflies.

I know the audience is seeing Pretty and the way her blood-red “Arabian” costume sparkles in the light- but they don't know just how beautiful my imagination is making the scenery right now.

It's okay. I know.

I get offstage and sweat is in my eyes, I'm panting, and for some reason the physical exhaustion from the sport makes me feel like a boy. Life is good and there is air in my lungs for once and the first thing that my extended family says when I greet them at the stage door is,

"You're growing into such a beautiful young woman."

I am so scared of being buried in someone else’s grave.

I tell them “thank you” and I hold on.

[sl-newsie]

Trick Or Treat: Albert DaSilva x OC *Halloween Special* 🎃

Set in 1900 after the strike, the Newsies take Les trick or treating and run into a new friend from Queens, one that seems to stick with Albert. Sorry it's a bit short. :)

Albert’s POV

“Come on, Davey! It’s already 7:30 and we’ve only gone down 2 blocks!”

I hold back a laugh as Les drags Davey through the crowd-a knee-high kids. It’s Halloween, my kind-a holiday when you can stay up late and scare people to death! And right now it’s time to score some sugar.

“He’s right, Davey.” Jack walks up wearing his usual cowboy attire. “He ain’t get’n any younger.”

“Nonsense!” Race grins. “The night is young! We sold all our papes today so it's time for celebrating! Now let’s pick up the pace- I want Necco Wafers now!”

We all run down the sidewalk with Les leading the pack, hitting one apartment after anodda. A half hour goes by and soon we’s already at the edge of town.

“Well well well, if it ain’t the ‘Hattan boys,” a voice calls from behind us.

We all groan. “Hi Spot.”

Spot Colon, AKA the ‘King of Brooklyn,’ struts up along with more Brooklyn newsies.

“You’s trick-or-treating? What are ya, 5?” Before we argue he holds up his hands and chuckles. “Relax, relax. I’s just joking. In fact that’s what we’s doing here too. You know, for the little ones.” He looks over his shoulder and seems to get a gleam in his eye. “I want you’s to meet Annie.” He steps aside and a cute goil in overalls hops outta the dark. “She’s an old friend-a mine, so no mess’n around. Understand, Race?”

But Race don’t seem too interested, however Spot’s woids go right over my head. 

“Hey doll, you’s ain’t from around here are ya?” I hold out a hand. “Name’s Albert.”

Annie’s POV

When Spot told me about how fun Halloween in ‘Hattan is I was so excited! There ain’t much to do in Queens, so I normally find somewhere else to party. What I didn’t expect was to meet Spot’s friends, rather good-looking ones if I do say so myself. Especially the ginger who’s shaking my hand.

“Hiya, Albert!” I say with a bright smile.

He gets a glazed look in his eyes and tilts his head. “I’s never seen you around Brooklyn before.”

“No, I’m from Queens.” I nudge Spot’s shoulder and he groans in annoyment. “I just hang with Spot when I’m bored. You fellas got anything exciting in ‘Hattan?”

Albert bites his lip and a part-a me’s hoping he invites me over, but to do that I can tell we godda get away from Colon.

“Say Spot, I think I’m gonna go check out the rich folks’ party down the block. I’ll catch up later!”

Spot seems reluctant, but he knows he can’t control me. He gives me a stiff nod and goes back to talk’n with the odda ‘Hattan boys, cueing me to give Albert a quick gesture to follow me. He bounds after me down the street and once we’s in a noisy spot away from the oddas Albert’s laugh’n like crazy.

“You’s just as daring as I am, doll!”

“Darn straight!” I grin and turn to face him. “Now we can chat without Colon give’n us the death stare.”

He gets a funny look and part-a me thinks he’s too chicken to go against Spot. “Why does Colon keep such a close eye on ya? You two close or someth’n?”

His noivousness makes me suppress a chuckle and I put a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. “Relax. Spot just worries ‘cause I don’t got too many street smarts as the rest-a yous.”

Albert nods in understanding. “He’s right to look out for ya. Makes me wonder how a pretty thing like yourself’s gone this long without get’n a normal life.”

His comment makes my smile fade and I put my hands on my hips. “And what’s that mean?”

Albert sees he’s slipped up his wording and holds up his hands. “Just say’n that you’s a very luvely goil and I’s surprised you’s ain’t married yet. You don’t seem like you’s should be hang’n around guys like me.”

He’s a lot more observant than I thought. Albert’s guessed I ain’t lower class, and he ain’t completely wrong. My folks have a decent income, but money can still be tight sometimes.

“I ain’t poor, but I ain’t rich eidda. And I don’t let someth’n as cliché as social class get in the way of my life.” I push past him and start walk’n away. “And if you’s think I’s just a pretty goil who should get married then take a hike, pal.”

Albert rushes up from behind. “I don’t mean it like that, honest-!”

“Oh sure, ‘cause I’s just an innocent, weak, pretty goil who shouldn’t be seen with lower class- you’s start’n to sound like my modda-!”

But I don’t get to finish my outburst because Albert pushes me against the cold brick wall and leans in. It comes outta nowhere and at foist I’m shocked, but then anodda feel'n grows throughout me that acts as anodda reason for my racing heartbeat.

“You like it dangerous, don’t ya doll? No wonder Colon has to watch over ya, never know when you’ll get into trouble. I ain’t say’n you’s a weak goil, I just wish I weren’t so poor so I could take you out properly.”

His husky voice makes me shutter and subconsciously lean into him, getting a surprised response from the gorgeous ginger.

“Annie, I- Does this- D-Do you like me too?” A simple reaction and he’s reduced to scattered woods.

“Yes,” I whisper. “Like I said, I don’t let social class come between me and what I want.”

He seems to regain his confidence and grins. “And what is it you want?”

I smirk and lean in to whisper in his ear: “Trick or treat, Albert.”

“Hmm… I ain’t sure I wanna take my chances with the trick…” He leans in closer and I feel his warmth surround me. “Or maybe I could ask ya out for a treat. Whaddya say, Annie?”

I lean in and give his lips a quick peck, making his face go nearly as red as his hair. “You seem like a treat yourself, handsome. I’d luv to go out with ya-!”

I’s barely gotten my woods out when Albert’s eyes light up and suddenly I feel soft lips be’n pressed to mine. I close my eyes and almost forget to stand, melting into Albert’s strong arms. Amidst the crowds of chattering kids and various Halloween celebrations all I can think of is him, no woids needing to be said to understand each odda. Once we pull apart for air Albert’s smiling like an idiot.

“God, I wish I would’ve started sell’n in Queens a long time ago! You wanna go on that date now?”

I kiss him one last time and start pull’n him towards the festivities. “Does caramel taste sweet?”

He grins and wraps an arm around my waist as we rush into the crowd. “I’ll take that as a yes!” 

[italianpersonwithashippersheart]

Hello.... If you don't mind me asking, who are your favorite romantic relationship's couples in books/ manga/ anime/movies/tv series (can be canon or non-canon)? Feel free if you want to write the reasons or not of why you love them...Thanks if you want to answer....

That is a very broad ask and I am very bad at lists so I will only speaks of ships that I think have some formative long lasting impact for me.

Lizzie and Gordo were my first live action ship.

My very first ship was from an anime, Their og names were Sana and Akito from Kodomo No Omocha. I knew it as Rossana (Italian name). This ships was my childhood!! When I was a baby that was basically the age of the actual characters. There are a few other anime with ships that got me, like Card Captor Sakura and Tokyo Mew Mew.

Buffy x Spike from Buffy the Vampire Slayer

There are a couple of misc Disney/Nick and Italian Shows ships that I loved but I wouldn't consider formative. Except for Logan and Quinn from s4 of Zoey 101. Unfortunatly the author that must no longer be named is in this as well. Originally Ron and Hermione then Draco and Harry later. There is also a few that I think are too obsocure like Wicked Sciene (Toby and Elisabeth) and Wildfire (Chris and Junior) or the Sleepover Club (Frankie and Mattew for s1 and Charlie and Jason for s2).

Veronica and Logan from Veronica Mars - They were everything to me, I remain devasted about the so called s4, I have not been able to watch this show again since I saw s4.

Set and Summer from the OC (don't judge too much I was a teenager)

Lovely Complex was also an anime I loved

And Toradora

Enjolras and Grantire (frist MLM ship I started reading fics for)

GMW Farkle and Riley + Styles and Lydia and Stranger Things (though I never shipped byler nothing against the ship I just don't see it) -> The first two fandoms that brought me on tumblr.

From early tumblr years we also have:

Evak (and various spin offs)

Keith and Lance from Voltron

Newsies (various ships)

Star Wars, Rogue One in specific. And Still Star Crossed which I will stay mad that they cancelled!!!! Benvolio and Rosaline were such a great ship.

Some famous YA Books: Red White and Royal Blue; Six Of Crows Ari and Dante; Simon VS.

There are obviously many many more. But these are the ones that I think made more of an impact. I used to be the kind of person that likes canon ships, and took me a while to understand non canon shipping and get on board with non-canon shipping. I was mostly over it by the time I got too tumblr. But it took a while longer, when I start to get into queer ships, that I started to see the appeal. I hesitated with queer ships at first because it didn't feel like I should be shipping that, since I thought I was straight at the time. So I was a late bloomer in terms of non-canon ships and queer ships.

Then of course there is the BL era (which I am still on) which honestly should be a list of it's own, there is way too many. But I have to shout out the very first BL ships I had, which are the ones that made me fall in love with the genre

DeanPharm from UWMA

AePete from Love By Chance

And shout out to this nice anime movie (I started watching Yaoi before we really had that many live action, but I kept finding list with raccomendation with problematic contents, which I am more ok with now but at the time it turned me off so this movie was a nice little change): Doukyuusei

My favorite ships dynamics are friend to lovers, enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers; Or anything that involves two characters having a deep bond/connection (rival, friends, bodyguard, savior, soulmate) before they start dating.

Thanks for the ask, I hope you enjoyed it, I tried to be as varied as I could.

[sparkedblaze]

Have you seen the 1992 newsies movie and if so what are your kid blink thoughts?

Yes I have. Not as much as I’ve seen Livesies (I saw Livesies first) but I’ve still seen it way too many times

(Idk if this is the same anon, but someone asked about Elmer earlier, and I must also direct you to @newsie-collective because the hcs are p rad)

Kid Blink 🥰🥰🥰

His real name is Louis Balett or Ballat or Baletti (depending on sources. I think the widely accepted version is Baletti)

He was an actual newsie!! He was the face of the strike, and gave many speeches, some of which he earned awards for ‘best speech of the evening’ and stuff. He was very charismatic and was good at moving crowds with said speeches.

He had red hair irl, and he went by other names like ‘Red Blink’, ‘Blind Diamond’, and ‘Muggsy McGee’

He was accused of betraying the strike (and is probably the reason Jack betrays them and takes the bribe and such), of which some sources say he was acquitted, though he still stepped down

He was arrested during the strike

That’s all I know about the real Kid Blink

Now for the fun stuff 🥰

Kid Blink, the Newsies newsie, is quick to anger, and can hold a grudge for ages

He is still good at rallying the others, but in more of a Chad Danforth way rather than a Troy Bolton way.

He and Mush are definitely together, though Blink struggles to come to terms with the fact that he’s gay.

It’s my personal hc that he opened the bar that would eventually become Stonewall Inn (because the real Louis Baletti was a saloon keeper, and was rumored to have worked with the mafia)

He’s def got a crush on Specs and Tommy, but isn’t sure how to approach that fact

And then Skittery comes and he’s not only got a crush but has an insane urge to protect (which Skit does not appreciate)

In public he’s very charismatic, easily tricks people into buying papes that they def don’t need, and almost definitely don’t want to read.

Rarely uses his blindness as a crutch for selling, can and will soak anyone that insinuates that it’s the only reason he sells so well.

Is actually Jack’s right hand, not Mush (like he claims to be)

Isn’t good with kids, so he tends to stay away from the littles

Unless they’re building with Specs. He always likes seeing what they build.

Insomniac. Always tired. Rarely sleeps. Has to have weight on him, which Mush is happy to provide.

If he gets arrested, he gives the cops a different fake name so it can’t be on his rap sheet.

They know it’s the same kid, but they can’t prove it, so they write whatever name he gives them (but file it in the same folder. He has to give them his real name eventually)

Smokes to take the edge off, especially after a rough day

Lmk if you have any more questions!!

[noxexistant]

davey and morris getting to be friends - or some semblance, eventually - is so important to me. davey would take absolutely none of morris’ shit and say it outright every time morris steps out of line, he’s direct and honest and just the right kind of sharp, but he’d also Understand morris in a way even oscar can’t, and be able to offer the sort of support morris has never gotten in his life. gotten the exact opposite of all his life.

of course, in-period, even davey doesn’t know he’s autistic (but i also have many thoughts about modern au where davey is diagnosed and supported from a very young age whereas morris is undiagnosed) but he’s grown up with loving parents and been given the platform to learn how to accommodate and understand himself. it’s why he understands morris too, sees all these things in him that he’s never seen in anyone but himself, triggering this sort of kinship and desperation to reach out that davey can’t explain.

davey teaching morris non-destructive stims when he notices morris constantly self-harming to stim. encouraging the few safe stims morris does have - rocking back and forth, bouncing on his feet, tapping - rather than trying to beat them out of him like everyone else has. he listens, even when morris is talking too fast and jumbled and slurring his syllables and using made-up words, and he tries to understand. helps morris translate all his thoughts and feelings into words that others can understand too. (oscar helps - he’s near fluent in morris’ “language”, can read his body language and facial expressions, and most of the time he’s the only person morris is willing to even try and talk to. most importantly, he knows - all about the awful things that morris can only have made-up words for, or can’t express at all.)

morris listens to davey too. really listens. sits quiet and his own version of attentive and lets davey talk about whatever he needs to or wants to, and he laughs at davey’s jokes - the ones that none of the other newsies ever seem to understand, or even recognise as jokes - and he offers quiet support when davey’s struggling or expressing insecurities he feels he could never express to anyone else. morris leans against davey or headbutts his shoulder when he can’t express his solidarity in words.

davey reads to morris, as soon as he learns that morris can’t read and has never been read to, because ma didn’t read and oscar doesn’t have the attention span. les offers up his books for davey to borrow for morris, and they’re a little juvenile but morris seems to love them so davey doesn’t mind. he tries to teach morris to read too, as well as to write because all morris can manage is a clumsy scrawl of his own name and oscar’s - spelled incorrectly, more often than not - and he’s patient even though morris is slow. and morris is grateful, even though davey’s sure he’s not a very good teacher.

morris sticks by davey’s side when davey’s anxious and breathing’s getting difficult, and davey sticks by morris’ whenever something happens - one of the boys shouting too loud, or saying a certain word, or sometimes something that davey doesn’t notice or understand at all - and morris goes all stiff and distant and scared. what used to be the precursor to morris getting aggressive, seeking control and self-preservation by initiating the violence he thought was about to befall him. davey teaches him how to breathe to calm down, and how doing things like counting things he sees can help remind him of where he really is, and tells morris over and over that he’s safe and that nobody’s gonna hurt him while davey’s here.

“i like bein’ with you,” morris tells him quietly one day, when they’re sat together - away from the chaos of the other newsies. davey no longer has to pick between being overwhelmed or being alone.

“yeah?” he replies, soft, and reaches out gentle when morris starts trying to chew at his thumb. morris lets davey take his wrist, and starts tapping instead.

“yeah. ‘s’safe with you.”

davey has to swallow hard. he’s grateful when the door opens a moment later, even though morris flinches hard - he relaxes marginally when he sees it’s jack, who’s a little tense too at the sight of morris but offers a smile all the same, for both morris and davey. he lifts the sketchbook and pencil in his hand by way of explanation.

there’s definitely a tension still there, particularly when jack comes over and sits beside davey, on the far side from morris, but it steadily melts as jack starts drawing and davey starts talking again and morris drifts as he listens, slowly inching closer and closer to jack to watch him sketch with complete fascination. he clearly doesn’t feel half as safe as he does with just davey, he flinches every time jack moves a little too much, but he doesn’t bolt or lash out when jack glances up at him.

“you’re really good at that,” he says, earnest, ‘cause davey’s always telling him to try and say stuff out loud. jack can’t help but smile, ducking his head but taking the compliment for once.

“what d’you think i should draw next?” he asks morris.

“davey,” morris tells him, and jack’s face splits into a grin.

“great idea.”

davey’s sure the drawing that’s about to follow won’t be flattering, judging solely by jack’s mischief-filled face of concentration - tongue poking out from between his teeth, eyes alight - but he supposes it’s worth it for the way morris glues himself to jack’s back, giggling, face screwed up into shameless amusement.

or, davey thinks when the paper is finally turned around to him and he looks past it to both jack and morris beaming, maybe this is the worst thing he’s ever accidentally mediated.

[fluffydavey]

“ i can’t do this anymore… ”

more intense vibes || prompts

Davey's woken by Crutchie, who's motioning for Davey to go up to his and Jack's penthouse. He convinced his parents to let him and Les stay at the lodgings overnight, and he's been sleeping soundly next to Finch, with Les across the room from him. (He's still in the habit of needing to know where his brother is at all times, especially since they're not actually sharing a bed tonight.)

He looks up at Crutchie tiredly, but when he sees the look of concern on the other boy's face, he sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes. "What's happened?"

"I don't know," Crutchie whispers, careful not to wake any of the other boys. To his side, Finch is still snoring blissfully. "It's Jack."

That's all it takes for Davey to wake up, as he finally follows Crutchie out of the bedroom. Except, Crutchie doesn't bother to climb the stairs. Davey's about to ask if his leg is okay, but Crutchie just leans against the door. "I tried talking to him, but he wasn't listening. He's had a nightmare, he thinks he's back at the refuge." Davey doesn't say anything, but he thinks it's probably having an effect on Crutchie too. "Could you try talk to him? Sometimes I think he listens to you more than me."

"I'll try," he says, his eyebrows furrowing as he takes a look at Crutchie. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, think I'll swap beds for the night though. I don't think I'll make it up again," he says, distracted, before leaving Davey alone. He reminds himself to check on Crutchie in the morning, as he climbs two steps at a time.

He’s not sure what to expect, as he makes his way over to Jack's room. He’s never seen Jack without his usual charismatic presence. He always thought that Jack was born to be a leader. He’s always been there to help the others, Davey’s lost count of the times Jack has given some of his food to the younger newsies, or given them his winter clothes when the weather started to get colder. He’s lived up to the infamous name Katherine’s helped create with the children’s crusade, and not once has Davey seen him falter.

That is, until he finally makes it up to the penthouse. He hears Jack before he sees him, and rushes over to see that Jack is in the middle of a panic attack. Davey’s had a fair share of panic attacks, but he’s not sure how to talk someone out of one. He tries to think about Sarah, and how she usually calms him down. “Hey, Jack. Jackie, it’s me, Davey.”

At the use of his nickname, Jack actually looks up. He’s panting, murmuring to himself as he looks at his surroundings. Davey begins to move closer, not wanting to get too close and scare him. “Jack, you’re okay. You’re here in the lodgings, with everyone. We’re all safe.” He continues saying it, almost like a mantra, as he begins to move closer and closer to Jack.

He steps forward to the bed, and leans down so he can take a look a proper look at Jack. When he looks into the other boy's eyes, he can see the tears falling from his eyes. "Breathe with me Jackie," he instructs, as he takes slow and deep breaths. It takes some time, but Jack finally is able to follow along.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Jack sobs, clinging to his knees as he rocks back and forth.

“Can’t do what?” he asks, voice low and full of concern.

“Every time I close my eyes, I’m there. It never ends Davey. It feels so real, you know? It doesn’t matter what I try to do, I even tried not sleeping,” he says, with a humourless laugh. “I see all the kids that I couldn’t help, and all the kids my big mouth got locked up.”

“Jack, look at me. It’s over, they’ve shut that place down. Snyder’s arrested and he’s not going anywhere for a long time,” he begins. “And you’re not to blame for any of it. Katherine told me how you used to steal food and clothes for everyone, how you’d risk going back to the refuge just to help the others. You’ve helped so many people, you’ve made an impact on so many people.”

Jack’s silent, and Davey tries to place a hand on Jack’s back. He instinctively moves closer to Davey, who decides to be bold and sit on the edge of Jack’s bed, letting Jack lean on him. “You’ve helped more people than you'll ever know, me included. Sometimes it's hard to see all the good you can do when you focus on the bad things. I can't even begin to imagine what it was like, what you had to go through in there, but you won't ever go back. Because of you, that place is shut down. No one else will ever have to experience it."

"But Crutchie - "

Jack's head is on his shoulder, and Davey holds onto him tightly. "Crutchie is okay, and has stolen my bed. At least he'll get to wake up next to Finch's drool," he says softly, trying to elicit a smile from the other boy. He fails, but he's not surprised. "Crutchie doesn't blame you for what happened. We all did what we had to that day, to get away from the fighting."

There's silence for a moment, as Davey runs his hand up and down Jack's back. "I'm sorry I cried on your clothes." This takes Davey by surprise, and he laughs at Jack's comment. Of course, Jack finds something to apologise for after a nightmare.

"I'll forgive you this once," he quips, and finally, Jack smiles at that. "You're okay Jack, nothing's going to hurt you."

"How are you so sure?" Jack asks, sounding exhausted.

"Because I'm here. I won't let anyone hurt you," he says. "Although I'm not sure how good I'd be. But all those boys downstairs love you just as much as you love them, and they want to help you too. You're not alone in any of this, okay?"

Jack nods his head, and they stay in that position, until Davey realises that Jack's breathing has begun to settle on it's own. He slowly lets go of Jack, and stands up from the bed. "Where are you going?" Jack asks, looking worried.

"You looked tired, I was gonna lie down on Crutchie's bed," he answers, pausing as he watches Jack intently.

Jack flushes slightly, as he looks down at his hands. "Could you...sleep with me?" Davey's about to answer, but Jack begins to talk over him. "Forget I asked, that was weird. I'm fine, I can sleep - "

"Shut up," he says, smiling, as he motions for Jack to move to make room for him. Jack doesn't say anything else, as he moves his bedsheet for Davey to join him. "Goodnight Jack."

"Thank you," Jack says, staring into Davey's eyes. "My brain doesn't believe the nice things you said yet, but thank you for being here."

"I'll be here to remind you until you do," he says, softly, watching Jack yawn. "Now sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

Not that he'd admit it to anyone, but it's the best night sleep Davey has for a long time.

[emmedoesntdomath]

Coffee Bean!!!!!!

(Aka Knobs)

COFFEE. BEAN. ☕️

coffee bean actually didn’t get his name from the other newsies. no, he got it from jacobi- like, the guy who owns the deli they all go to? right, so coffee bean would ALWAYS ask about coffee. always. never buy any, but he would always ask the questions that no one else asks??? how do you make the coffee? where does coffee come from? how expensive is it? so on and so forth. eventually, jacobi was like, “relax, coffee bean-“ as a joke, but the other newsies thought this was hilarious. to the point that it was suddenly his name.

his actual name is matthew, but it used to be virginia (like the american state). but he hated that name, and hated being called a girl, so when he became a newsie, he told everyone he was a boy (because he was), and fuck you very much to anyone who said otherwise. they just shrugged, said okay, and that was that.

he’s friends with pie eater, and when people start questioning them about what they’ve eaten, he immediately defends him, or distracts them so they stop asking questions. he’s been there, too, and he knows what it feels like to have pressure on you about food.

he has two little sisters, named georgia and augusta (his parents really had a theme, okay- they were determined to be as american as possible so no one asked them about where they had come from) (georgia is another US state and augusta is the capital of the US state of maine). he’s three years older than georgia, and seven older than augusta, and they are his babies. he honest to god DREADS the day they get married, and he is determined to scare off as many boys as he possibly can.

his favorite color is green, because it reminds him of the fresh grass of central park when it’s springtime.

he knows how to sew pretty well, like buttons, so whenever newsies are in need of clothes, they tag-team it to make sure everything fits at least a little bit and there’s no major holes.

he’s good friends with crutchie, and they both share a specific type of gallows humor that freaks other people out. crutchie makes jokes about his leg (again, I will die on the hill that he gave himself his name), coffee bean makes jokes about wearing dresses and being a proper lady. it makes everyone else uncomfortable as hell, and it’s a great time.

also, coffee bean has a very weak immune system, and is prone to getting sick quickly, so sometimes he can’t sell. crutchie always stays back with him, and that’s how they became friends.

sometimes, he and henry get into food debates. albert chimes in with very odd opinions that actually do nothing to help the conversation, and les always adds a comment about his latest favorite food.

one time, he tried to start a coup against jack. not for any particular reason. he just wanted to see if he could.

[lucamoon22]

Are Youse An Angel? (Albert DaSilva x Fem!Reader) (Newsies)

A/n: hell yes :)

Summary: You needed newspapers for an art project, so you found the nearest newsie and bought... more than one pape, to say the least

Warnings: uhhh, none i think? probably some swearing somewhere in here, otherwise just pure fluff and happiness

Reader uses she/her pronouns, and is kind of a ditz. i just wanted some pure fluff ok?

Masterlist

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~3rd POV~

The sun was shining, the headline was boring, life was as good as it could be for Albert and the rest of the Newsies.

Albert, Race, and Elmer were in line to get their papes for the day, messin’ around with eachother and what not.

“Hey, Albert I bet you that you can’t sell 100 papes before the end of the day.” Racer said while punching Albert in the shoulder.

“Ooh! Ooh! I’ll tap in too!” Elmer said, fishing out coins from his pockets since they were close to the front.

“Alright bet.” Albert was sure he could do this.

~Skip to 11:50 am~

Ok it wasn’t going as well as he thought it would go, he had only sold 20 papes so far. It wasn’t a bad start, but it could’ve been better. Albert sighed and looked around to see if there were any selling opportunities.

That’s when a girl came around the corner, looking like she was in a rush and a little confused too, as if she’s never been in the neighborhood. Once she turned and saw Albert her face lit up. And, oh my god, Albert thought he was dreaming. She must have been an angel, no one could look that radiant. She had (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes that just seemed to sparkle. 

She walked up to him, and he could just melt right then and there with the smile she gave him.

“Hi, um, are you selling newspapers?”

“Well, yes I am, Gorgeous.”

She smiled shyly and looked down, “Um how many papers do you have left?”

Well that was an odd question, but he answered anyway, “About 80 papes if I counted right.”

“Ok! So c-can I buy all 80 of them?” She asked, looking up again and staring him right in the eyes, nervousness shown clearly in her eyes.

Albert was confused to say the least, what could she need 80 papes for even? How was she going to carry them back to... wherever she was going to? She definitely wasn’t a newsie trying to buy off from another newsie, her clothes were enough to show that.

“I- uh- Yeah, if you want all 80 then you should probably take the bag too, Miss.”

“Oh thank you so much! I promise I’ll return the bag back to you, what’s your name so I know who to return it to?”

“The name’s Albert.” Albert was too dazed to process much at that moment as he handed the girl his bag, this girl just bought 80 papes, fucking 80! 

“Ok, here’s your money, I think that should cover all of it, thank you so much Albert.” She said before she ran back the way she came.

Albert looked down into his hand and- holy shit. There in his hand sat a $5 bill. ‘Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod’ He made a bee-line for Jacobi’s, still processing what happened as he gripped onto the bill.

~At Jacobi’s~

Everyone was sitting peacefully, talking and what not.

“Hey, where’s Albert? He’s usually here before me and Les.” Davey said and went to sit with Jack, Crutchie, Race, Elmer, and Mush, with Les walking behind him.

“Well, Elmer and I bet him that he couldn’t sell 100 papes before the day ended so-” Before Race could finish what he was going to say, the aforementioned boy came barreling through the front doors.

“Guys! Guys! You won’t believe it! I’m RICH!” Now that caught everybodies attention, it’s not every day you have a newsie exclaim their rich at lunch hours. Jack pulled out a chair for Albert, the dude looked like he had ran from Brooklyn and back in the span of two minutes.

“Hey, you alright there Al? Davey could you get some water for him?” Davey nodded at Jack and went to get some water.

“Oh I’m better than alright.” The boy took a pause to breathe for a moment, he may be fast but in his excitement he tripped a few times and had to slow a bit.

“Dude you look redder than a tomato. Also where’s your bag and papes? Race said you bought 100 this morning?” Crutchie asked, worry shown clear on his face.

Davey came back with some water and Albert drank it gratefully. Davey sat back down and eyed Albert, wondering what the idiot did now.

After Albert finished the water he immediately told everyone what happened, and at the end of his story he showed the $5 bill to the group.

“Holy shit!”

“No way.”

Several exclamations were heard around the table, but all Albert could think of was that dazzling face of hers. A face and personality that caught his heart in less than five minutes.

“Damn it, we lost the bet.” Elmer pouted, not wanting to admit defeat. Race just smirked at Elmer and said, “I think the bet is the least of our worries. He looks like a lovestruck fool right now.”

And what Race said was absolutely true, the boy had flushed cheeks and a dopey grin on his face, just staring into nothing.

“Ok, come on Lover Boy, lets get you back to the Lodge.”

“Hm? Yeah, ok.”

“Oh, brother.”

~Later That Day~

Once everything had calmed down and all the Newsies were back at the Lodge, everyone just sat and talked, some playing card games, some upstairs sleeping, and some doing god knows what.

Albert, Race, Crutchie, and Jack were all sitting with eachother, talking and what not. All of a sudden a knock came from the front door.

“I got it!” Romeo went and opened up the door, and once he did he went almost slack jawed but managed to pull him self together. “Why hello there, Beautiful. May I help you?” Everyone quieted down and listened to what was happening.

“Um, actually, I’m looking for an Albert?” Oh my god, it was the angel, the dazzling girl who caught his heart. Once he heard her voice he bolted up and went to the door, lightly knocking Romeo out of the way.

“Oh! Albert, so you do live here, I was hoping my instincts were right, anyway uh- here’s your bag.” Albert took the bag out of her hands gently and looked at the bag. 

“Um, so you see some paint got splattered on it by accident so I thought I might as well try and make it look like they were supposed to be there, I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have even-”

“It’s looks amazing, Gorgeous.” Albert inspected the bag and the newly painted design on it. It was of a city skyline- Manhattan’s skyline- with the sun setting in the back.

“I’m glad you like it.” She smiled and looked up into his eyes, which also looked up from the bag. Albert glanced behind and stepped out of the entrance while closing the door, trying to get some privacy with her.

“I never got to ask what your name was, or would you like me to keep calling you Gorgeous?”

She laughed and looked down, “My name is (Y/n), although Gorgeous doesn’t sound so bad either.”

“Well may I offer to take you out tomorrow? Just explore the city with me?”

“What time?”

“I could pick you up at noon?”

“So, it’s a date?”

“It’s a date.”

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i’m actually kind of proud of this one, hope you all like it, also my request box should be working? idk but it’s open for suggestions :)