#he will come outta nowhere and steal your crush though

[cicicolorao]

Prince Howdy and friendly shopkeep Florian

Watching a Mario Wonder playthrough and the game is so trippy and fun! Unfortunately I have brain worms.

[mollywog]

Prompt: Everlark…roleswap (you can pick and choose) OR Everlark sneaking around (and failing)

I hope it tickles something in your brain. Love your work <3

Thank you for the ask @atelierlili!!! This isn’t exactly what you asked for, but it was the thing that made the pieces fall together for this one-shot

Katniss opens her eyes to the sight of an unfamiliar ceiling. She quickly scans the room for signs of another inhabitant. Finding none, she still throws the sheet over her head for good measure.

The events of the prior night come flooding back to her. She had had a one night stand; and not just with anyone, but with Peeta Mellark. She had such a crush on him back in high school, though she doubts he even noticed her then. He had been busy with sports teams, clubs, and friends, while she was just trying to make it through.

But then last night she’d spied him across the bar and, encouraged by her roommate and a shot of tequila, she’d held his stare and smiled. He could have ignored her; the Hob was crowded with the Saturday rush, and as usual he was surrounded by a group of people, but he had made a point to seek her out. The alcohol may have helped in the beginning, but after two hours of steadily increasing flirtation, she was stone sober when she’d suggested they get-outta-here. Her body hums remembering the rest of the night. Regardless, now the thought of an awkward morning exchange is enough to have her almost regretting the whole thing… She sighs, tossing the sheets off her face. It isn’t going to get any easier the longer she waits, so she might as well get on with it.

But first she’ll need clothes.

She peers around the room but her shorts and tanktop are nowhere to be found. Cringing, she remembers how she’d pounced as soon as the door to his apartment had closed. Their clothes had been shed before they’d left the living room. She spots her bra and underwear at the end of the bed, but greeting Peeta like that feels obscene and draping herself in his bedsheets feels a bit dramatic, so she opts for a comfortable orange shirt she finds tossed over a chair.

She’ll just dash out and grab her clothes. Depending on where he is, he might not even realize she’s left the room before she’s safely back inside with yesterday’s outfit.

But all her plans fall to the wayside when she opens the door to the smell of coffee, warm cinnamon, and bacon. She moves towards the source like a cartoon mouse led by their nose at the scent of cheese. She'd be embarrassed if she weren’t so hungry.

“Hey,” Peeta smiles, turning from the counter to greet her then back to his bowl, but not before she catches his gaze lingering on her exposed legs below the hem of his shirt. She’s never thought herself particularly pretty, but Peeta’s hungry glance has her wondering if he sees something she doesn’t. She’d felt powerless to her crush back in the day; the feeling of longing that would creep up on her when she’d steal glances at him from across the lunch room, but maybe now the desire wasn’t so one sided.

Emboldened by the idea, she hops onto the counter next to him, “I wasn’t sure if you were a coffee person but I made enough for both of us. Or I can put on water for tea? Then there’s bacon and I have eggs - I can make them anyway you like, or I could do pancakes if you’d prefer that. And if none of that suits there are cinnamon rolls that will be ready any minute.”

“That’s not breakfast, that’s a buffet,” she says, selecting a strip of bacon from the plate and taking a bite. She watches him relax a degree as if he’d expected her to vanish if he hadn’t offered the right inducement. She supposes it’s not an unfair assumption, it was, after all, what she had planned to do not two minutes ago.

“I wanted to make you breakfast, but I realize I don’t know what you like. I might have gone overboard. I’ve never done this before.”

“What? Made a reasonable amount of breakfast?”

He laughs, “I meant slept with someone on a first date.” She looks away to hide her blush. “I think I could have gleaned enough information by our third or so date to have an idea of your breakfast preferences.”

“Date? Is that what we’re calling last night?”

“I’d prefer that to one night stand. First date makes it sound like the beginning. One night stand - like the end. I had a great time last night.” She rolls her eyes and he smirks as he continues, “that was great too, but I meant even before we left the bar… I like you Katniss. I always have, and I really don’t want this to be over.”

Always? Maybe she hadn’t been the only one carrying a torch all these years. He’s standing close enough for her to smell his body wash, something enticing but familiar, but they’re not touching and her skin is buzzing with the urge to connect them even in the most innocent way. Does she really want this to be over? “Okay,” she says after a beat.

“Okay?”

“First date it is”

He beams at her, sending warmth from her chest out to her limbs and she can’t contain her smile in return. A timer buzzes before she can consider leaning in to close the distance between them. Suddenly conscious of her morning breath, she hops off the counter excusing herself to the restroom.

She brushes her teeth with her finger and the paste on the counter before quickly rebraiding her hair and washing her face. She belatedly realizes she’s forgotten her clothes, but when she opens the door there are two sets of voices on the other side. She panics, freezing with the door ajar just a crack.

“I told you I wasn’t coming,” she hears Peeta say.

“And I told you that was unacceptable.” She’s never spoken to the woman, but she recognizes the voice right away: Peeta’s mother. The baker's wife has always been a notorious bitch, children still refer to her as ‘the Witch’ as they did when she was a kid.

She tries not to eavesdrop, she really does, but Mrs. Mellark’s voice carries, high and shrill. She doesn’t hear it all, but words like stupid, selfish, and inconsiderate can’t be ignored and enrage her. Who would think any such things of Peeta Mellark, let alone his own mother?

She watches his posture turn rigid as the woman berates him: You’d think he was missing his own father’s funeral rather than some weekly family engagement. His eyes flit towards the bathroom and catch her stare. She watches him sigh, deflating as if making a decision, “fine Mother. Just go to the car and give me a minute to get ready.”

It dawns on her what he’s doing; sacrificing himself so that she can sneak off and if his defeated appearance is any Indication, he doesn’t expect to see her ever again after this mortifying scene.

This will not do.

Katniss straightens her spine and flings the door open. With a confidence borne of righteous indignation, she marches over to Peeta, wraps her arms around his waist, and pops up to her toes to kiss him on the cheek, “I didn’t realize we were expecting guests. Did I hear something about brunch? I’m starving.”

“This is why you canceled?” Mrs. Mellark's contempt is obvious as she takes in her appearance.

“This is Katniss and no: I canceled because I don’t want to go, but if you do…” he turns towards her with a smirk.

Katniss muses that the olive toned legs beneath her son’s shirt is all the information Mrs. Mellark needs to make her judgment. “You cannot bring her. Not unless you want your grandmother to have a heart attack.”

“Good thing Katniss is a nurse.”

She hums, “though I did take an oath to do no harm. Seems a little reckless to attend with your grandmother in such a fragile state.”

Peeta shrugs, “fair point. Guess that settles it.”

“Maybe another day,” Katniss adds.

Mrs. Mellark looks between the pair before huffing and turning on her heels. The door slams and Katniss's feeling of satisfaction falters as she belatedly wonders if maybe Peeta might begrudge her the Ming vase his grandmother will certainly bequeath to his brother now. Suddenly ashamed at her performance, she can’t meet his eye as she asks, “is there anything I have to apologize for?”

She looks up at the sound of Peeta’s laughter. “Not a thing” he says before scooping her into an embrace. And as her lips seek his she’s glad she decided to brush her teeth

Read on Ao3

[twilightmalachite]

Sandstorm - Epilogue 2

Author: Akira

Characters: Hinata, Yuuta, Rei, Kaoru, Koga, Adonis

Translator: Mika Enstars

"My bad for takin’ so long, it seems we got deceived a lil’ by a sly fox!"

Season: Winter

Location: Chuugoku Region Qualifiers Stage

Hinata: Heheh~, if you can secretly steal Desert Coins from Hakaze-senpai’s pocket, you can slip them back in just as easily, right?

As compensation for deceiving him, I decided to take one Desert Coin—and slip it back into Hakaze-senpai’s pocket.

And so in accordance with the rules, UNDEAD survived.

Yuuta: You really do whatever you want, don’t you, Hinata-kun?

Hinata: Because that seemed to be what you wanted, Yuuta-kun!

Koga: “Gyahahahaha! ☆ UNDEAD has risen again…!”

Rei: “Yes, for we are UNDEAD. We cannot die, we’ll resurrect again and again!��

(quietly) …But I never would have dreamed that we’d be killed by the adorable 2wink.

Koga: “We are UNDEAD! I kept ya waitin’, no need to worry further, you ignorant fools!”

“My bad for takin’ so long, it seems we got deceived a lil’ by a sly fox!”

Hinata: He called you a fox, Yuuta-kun! ♪

Yuuta: Kon, kon…♪[1] Aren’t you seniors embarrassed to have been deceived by someone like me?

Koga: Shaddup~! So it was you~! You were behind this?!

Ain’t that amazin’~! ♪ So ya craftily fooled both the management and ourselves, and then managed to escape outta hotel out in the middle of nowhere, didn’tcha?!

Adonis: Yes. The management side, who thought we were eliminated, called for the end of the game in the desert—SDS, as planned.

And so as a result, we were released and set free. We were brought to a helicopter pad and were sent back to the Chuugoku region.

Kaoru: Yep. Though I don’t know where the desert or the hotel was, apparently it was still part of the Chuugoku region, kinda sorta?

For the qualifiers, it looks like there’s a rule that prohibits moving leaving the region—or at least, there’s supposed to be one.

Apparently it was like that for that rumored Hokkaido Jungle too?

Koga: There ain’t any jungle in Hokkaido though~… Are other people in other regions goin’ through what the management’s puttin’ us through too?

How come this year's SS is drenched in so much conspiracy?

Rei: Even so, for the time being at least, the management has no reason to bend the rules they set for themselves.

If they repeat that sort of foul play, they'll lose their greatest weapon—they’ll lose whatever authority they have.

Therefore, even if something is outright strange, an explanation will be found within the scope of the rules, and the issue will be reconciled.

We’ve always been somewhere unknown within the Chuugoku region, and now that the next stage of the qualifiers have begun, we’ve come out onto the stage with our swords blazing.[2]

That is how this will play out.

ES thoroughly operates SS by righteousness. They will do anything in order to preserve that public image, if they bare their fangs here, they’ll be seen as nothing but criminals.

“I don’t like that way of things~, I don’t like it~, so I’ll jus’ crush it!!”

…Is something that Crazy:B or Trickstar would begin to say, so they have their hands tied up because of that.

Adonis: Sakuma-senpai’s voice got so rough all of a sudden, it surprised me.

Rei: Sorry~! ♪ There’s nothing to be scared of, Rei-chan is everyone’s kind grandpa…☆

Adonis: No, it’s fine. Besides, back then, you used to speak in that tone. It’s nostalgic.

I’ve always wondered why you suddenly changed your manner of speaking.

Sakuma-senpai is still the same Sakuma-senpai, so I just interpreted it as something like changing clothes.

Rei: What a good boy! There there, you’ll be getting a New Year’s envelope…♪

Kaoru: Isn’t it still a lil’ too early for that?

How should I put it… I think I get it—Do you think that having UNDEAD present risked too much for a reckless rebellion, to where the management aimed to remove us?

It would explain why they were so obstinate on crushing us.

Rei: Well. Referring to my own experience—I was suspecting Tenshouin-kun, but it seems that it’s just a similar case.

He tried to ostracize me because I was a bad kid who would have tried to go against him.

I don’t know all of the facts. The incidents that are occurring are understandably far too big for me to grasp the entire picture.

No, it’s as if I’m intentionally being restrained so that I cannot get all the cards into my hand and act. There’s nothing I can do.

Kaoru: They’re simply afraid of people who are too strong, and try to get rid of them.

Rei: Am I a monster or something to them? Why are they so scared, I’m nothing but a feeble ol’ grandpa!

Kaoru: That’s cuz people are starting to realize and be aware that it’s just an act, y’know.

More importantly, Rei-kun… I thought you were unable to talk to us for all this time, is it alright for you to have a normal conversation like this?

Rei: Mhm. Yuuta-kun canceled the command he gave to me.

The secret command that was given to me was “to follow the orders of 2wink”, it wasn’t “don’t speak”.

Now I can talk and move freely like normal. ♪

Yuuta: Well, it’d be an issue if we didn’t let Sakuma-senpai give it his all, so I removed his shackles. Please keep on making money for us!

Rei: Mhm, as you wish—Master. ♪

Kaoru: What d’you mean…?

Rei: Kukuku. During the qualifications, we UNDEAD and 2wink formed an alliance to work together. We’ll be taking all and every job and making some easy money. ♪

This stage being one of those jobs. We’ll start with performing a flashy live as we usually do and show our cheerful faces to our fans who have been worrying about us.

Kaoru: Hmm~. Well, we are a little late due to the scheming management, but let’s do our best.

Rei: Mhm. With how there are many strong powerhouses here in the Chuugoku region, and how long we’ve taken getting here from the desert…

As of now, we are at a great disadvantage.

However, the sun is still in the sky. As long as we are alive and moving, there is nothing impossible in this world.

These powerful idols will be off guard seeing we are so far behind them…

The warped human beings with that arrogance are the prey that we are aiming for.

Let us creep up, seize them, and drain their blood.

Kaoru: Your words and conduct sometimes get so extreme, Rei-kun.

Rei: Do you dislike that “me”, Kaoru?[3]

Kaoru: Uuh, I mean, for me it’s kinda difficult to talk with someone who changes their character so quickly~? I don’t know how to react!?

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The Japanese onomatopoeia for the noises foxes make.

Lit. 'hastily-grabbed sword'. The original saying, 押っ取り刀, is to describe when a samurai would rush to an emergency with a sword in hand, without even the time to affix it to their waist.

He uses the "ore" (俺) pronoun here, the pronoun he would use during his second year, as opposed to his current "wagahai" (我輩).

[genshingarbage]

oooo can you do Hcs if our boys Diluc, Zhongli, Childe and Kaeya turned into a small animal for a day (could be based off their canon constellations or whatever ahah)? Like idk just imagine Zhongli turning into like a cute baby dragon/noodle-y lizard or Diluc becoming a ball shaped owl or eagle LOL. This can be both safe and non sfw ~

Congratulations to you for being our first ask~! We’ll do our best to serve. We are really excited to write this one, we were just thinking about things to write and then you popped outta nowhere with this amazing ask, brain go boom~ Enjoy your day with a bunch of feral animals, Lady Myrx - Mod Kaeya/Diluc

A Day In The Life Of ...

|| Head Cannons ||

We really wanted to stick to the constellation idea but with Childe that was a bit hard... considering his is like a fish/whale. So we thought about it and the only small critter we could pair with him was a ferret. I hope this will suffice. - Mod Diluc

Childe

How did he end up as a ferret today? No idea. Does he even care? Mmh... not really. He's found out that being a ferret has its pros surprisingly.

Scaring you awake for a first was the highlight of his entire day tbh.

The way you reacted when he kept licking your nose hearing you giggle 'Childe' under your breath.

Only to then scream when you opened your eyes to be greeted to a small ferret sat ontop your chest STARING at you.

You'll be spending all day trying to figure out how this happened?

But he will make it impossible for you to actually find any clues or evidence- he doesn't want this to end dammit.

Getting strokes and pets from the lovely ladies in Liyue when he does a small turn or lifts onto his back legs. Heaven <3

Running into the restaurants and kitchens stealing food and being chased out with name-calling ensue.

Rodent!

Vermin!

Music to his ears. Oh also you can bet you're his get out of trouble free card.

Scampering back to you and climbing up your leg till you hold him toward your chest.

He doesn't mind being there one bit either.

You'll be spending the day saying sorry to many angry shop keepers and chefs. Apologising on your 'dumb pet ferrets' behalf.

Eventually you'll tire yourself out from trying to get him to sit still for one minute to help figure out this crazy conundrum.

Because he's far too busy being the nightmare pest to Liyue right now.

He'll enjoy making you chase him only to squeeze himself under heavy objects that he knows you'll struggle to lift.

At one point he'll just completely dip.

Leave you outside looking for him while he gets comfy in your panties in your drawer.

Also you just know when he does wake he'll make you know exactly where he's been.

You'll see him in the hallway of your house with a pair of panties in his mouth. Just standing there.

He can't do it but you know he's smirking like a little shit to himself right now.

However when it gets late and you can't stand up anymore from having to deal with a demon in a ferret body all day he'll eventually give in.

The night will come to an end with you laying in bed with him coiled up into a tight ball on your lower abdomen.

Don't deny it. He's adorable as a ferret and that moment will declare it official 100%.

However what's more precious is when you wake up the next morning to him still curled into a ball but he's beside you in bed naked and very much human again.

You take great joy in waking him up by throwing water over him that morning and hearing him scream instead of you.

You still love him though and he'll never stop loving you <3

Diluc

Why is he an owl? How does he fix this immediately?

He will not enjoy this freak occurrence one bit.

He has evil to crush and innocence to protect. How's he suppose to do that as a tiny owl?

It doesn't help his humiliation either that you're just constantly going 'Awe' and 'Omg' to every movement he does.

He will randomly flap his wings out a lot. As if to shrug or try cross his arms but he keeps forgetting they're wings now...

Once you're finally over the attack of cuteness you'll sit down with several books on all sorts of magic and mystery to try help decipher this.

He will for sure sit on your shoulder. Just perch there while leaning down to also read the books along side you.

He really wants to be human again. Please help him.

Every small noise around him will result in his head doing the full 180⁰ head spin that owls do.

He is literally a fat feathery potato right now with bright red eyes. He looks kinda demonic ngl.

But the fact you know he's so embarrassed and humiliated over the situation just makes him so cute!

If Kaeya shows up DO NOT TELL HIM THE OWL IS DILUC.

Diluc may consider suicide if you do.

The nonstop teasing and ruthless bullying that will come from Kaeya is inhuman.

"Wow Diluc you took being the nocturnal type a bit too seriously huh?"

If he doesn't commit suicide he'll definitely commit murder when he's human again. So just don't let Kaeya find out.

You'll hear a lot of people questioning why you suddenly have a pet owl. And when people ask you'll have to sputter out half arsed excuses.

"A gift for Diluc."

"It was injured and I'm helping it."

People will ask alot if they can stroke it and even though you know Diluc is screaming no you'll say yes.

You'll have to stifle your laughter when you see his podgy unamused owl face being squatted down by pets on the head.

If you keep taking the piss however he will eventually peck your ear. Just bite it. Hard.

Make you squeak and apologise to him.

Despite being given a once in a life time chance to FLY he just WON'T.

He'll remain on your shoulders the whole day. He doesn't want to go anywhere like this. Just make him human again already.

However as night approaches and it's clear there is no resolve to his problem he'll reluctantly give in.

You won't even know it but you'll pass out searching through the books trying so hard to help him.

He's totally not gonna then chose to fly in the night sky to find a pretty windwheel aster to leave on your window ledge to wake up too.

His way of thanking you for trying so hard all day to help him even if it does end with fruitless results.

He fall asleep perched at the bottom of the bed. Looking like a fluffy ball with a face and nothing else from how round he is.

When the morning does arrive and he wakes up to his human self again he's actually gonna be smiling like a maniac.

And if he's with you he's gonna get lost in his glee and lift you up and twirl you like a princess.

Before clearing his throat and putting you down and going back to his nonchalant ways.

His face bright red however as... yes... he did just pick you up and twirl you round while he's stark naked.

Time to find his clothes ASAP.

Kaeya

Aight, first thing he's gonna do is discover that peacocks can scream because he certainly is on the inside

You know that video of that seagull screaming?

Yeah that's him when he first finds out

But after you manage to help him calm down he's...pretty chill honestly

He gets to just vibe perched somewhere high, eat and sleep all day while everyone else rushes about and figure out what's wrong? fuck yes

Peakaeya is gonna be roosting on the shelves above your desk, the door frame and frantically tip tapping after you as you run errands around Mondstat without so much as a care in the world

Let's get this straight alright if one thing about Peacocks is known it's that they're drama queens so this is like normal Kaeya ramped up to about a 10. If you so much as deny him a rice grain he's gonna get pouty and act all cute and sad for pets

Just tease human Kaeya about it later for revenge it's alright we know you want to

He's gonna present

A lot

Because he's a massive flirt and now he can lay into people without having any consequences and make their day while he's at it

Especially you, especially to interrupt you while you're scolding him because his feathers are gorgeous and the fucker knows how to work them to his advantage

The one place I wouldn't recommend taking him to is DIluc's for obvious reasons

It's going to end in a fight or at the very least customer's mugs and glasses being kicked to high heaven by a mischievous little fowl with claws the length of your finger

God forbid he tries to peck someone's eyes out after they make a comment

So yeah no just don't take him to the tavern, if you do leave him outside and ignore the screaming Peacock staring through the window so intently at the back of your head you're starting to get freezer burn

If you can't find him he's probably posing dramatically on the Anemo Archon statue or in the courtyard by the Knights' HQ, there I just saved you 2 hours

When it comes to bed time he's gonna find all your clothes and make a little nest out of them on your window sill and brood there until he falls asleep

Thankfully he didn't fall off it in the middle of the night but the sight of a naked Kaeya leaning against the wall under your window is uh

Pretty interesting

Zhongli

Well this was a predicament

Being a gecko was hardly one of the first forms he would've chosen to shift into, especially considering his retirement but he couldn't seem to shift out of it so guess he's stuck with it

You know it was him from the first second you saw him perched next to his cup of tea looking confused

The lil horns and whiskers gave him away

He's gonna do a cute little tail wiggle every time he notices you looking at him, he can't control it it just happens

When you do manage to get a brush and ink geck-Li just sticks his whole paw in the ink and writes to communicate that way but the letters come out so botched you can't even tell what word he's trying to write you just know it is infact A Language and that it is A Word

Don't worry about it too much since he's used to existing as small creatures

He may waddle back and forth across your desk as you work

He doesn't really know what to do with himself, I mean he's tiny right now so he can't exactly give you his usual lectures or aid

If you need to leave just put him in your breast pocket and he'll go along for the ride but he wants to keep near you

You'll feel him shift around don't worry he's just napping or moving to hang his for legs out of your pocket so he can see what's happening

Boop him and watch his eyes go wider than you've ever seen them

He'll also follow your finger even to the point he's crosseyed

Mlem

In the event someone sketchy comes up to you he just screams

It'd be adorable if not for how horrific it sounded? You didn't know what dinosaurs sounded like but you're pretty sure they'd sound like whatever the fuck kind of noise he'd managed to produce when a particular bold treasure hoarder tried to get you to join them

How was he so loud??

And defensive???? He tried to bite a shop owner when he moved to fast helping you pick up some chilis

Though when he spaces out and licks his eye it's pretty cute

It's honestly eye opening seeing him like this...it's like you know him better

Bedtime means he's going to just starfish on his pillow and I mean his pillow because somehow he takes up all of the space on it and no no you cannot take it back from his tiny little gecko paws

Waking up, he’s missing and there's a note on your bedside thanking you for taking care of him

He did wake up stark naked with his arms wrapped around you but he felt that was vastly inaproriate, so he got dressed as quickly as he could and left a note

A couple days later when you visit him in Liyue with a new gecko pet (a species named after Rex Lapis as it so happens) he can't help the small smile that graces his lips

[onmyyan]

Hi its me again. I love your writing and the fact that there isn't as much abuse like there is in others. It reminds me of old yandere stories were it was genuine lovesickness. Anyway, how do you think jjba yanderes would react to a darling that is taller and more muscular than them by quite a bit. You can do whoever you like I don't mind.

A/N: Omg ily🥺 it means a lot you said all that because I really love this genre it’s my comfort trope anyway thank you for the request n I hope ya like it!! Kira should be a trigger warning in an of itself but dw he’s just weird, not mean. Mentions of his past ‘girlfriends’, a curse word or two, lil suggestive in someplace’s Mista murks a few people, tw//gun violence

Characters: Pt2 Joseph, Josuke, Kira, Mista

Joseph was used to looking down on people, standing at a proud 6’5” he was literally and figuratively knocked on his ass when he’d first laid eyes on you, his immediate thought was you were a forgotten pillarman coming from nowhere to get revenge for your masters only to quickly realize you were just a stallion. You were strong enough to put him on his back after one too many cheeky comments. Unafraid to speak your mind and keep him in check, You would stare down at him with that mind melting smirk, all too aware of his frustrations, you assumed he was just being a man, ashamed to be outclassed by someone other than himself, oh honey how wrong you were. You enjoyed teasing the behemoth of a man as no one else really could, at least not as well as you did, throughout your little jabs and snark he always had a retort, a response on the tip of his tongue, eager to do this dance of yours until one of you broke, to you he was a way too cocky dangerously self assured pretty boy who was entertainingly easy to rile up, but to Joseph, you were his everything. Someone he could proudly take home to Granny Erina once he’d finally tamed you. He had a plan, a three step plan to steal your heart just as you’d done his, and this little game of who could annoy the other the most was just step 1. “It’s been fun JoJo but you’re gonna have to find someone else to bother.” You’d jokingly said one day out of the blue, an odd friendship had formed through the month you’d been in town and it felt wrong to leave without notice, an act of kindness you’d learn to regret. “Is this one of your famous jokes (Y/n)? Not so funny to play with a mans heart like that I nearly believed you.” He finished with a scoff, his signature smirk not reaching his eyes. “It’s true Joseph, my flight leaves tomorrow, I didn’t wanna leave without saying goodbye, because as much as we fuck around you’re pretty fun to hang out with.” Your sincerity almost made him feel bad about rushing the next few steps of his plan, he’d have to cram months of planning into a night but he’d accomplished more with less time on his side. He huffed, his grin stretched wide across his handsome features. “Then we outta make tonight count eh?” A thick arm was tossed around your neck, you had to bend awkwardly for this to be possible much to your amusement. “Okay you weirdo, whatever you say.” You let him lead you around town with a grin, unaware you’d be missing that plane, and any other one you tried to take without him.

Josuke watched you eat with the dopiest grin on his face, he’d spent an extra hour in the mirror this morning in preparation for your first official date! Well you didn’t exactly know it it was a date and Okayasu was eating rather messily beside you two but still! You’d actually agreed to come to Toni’s with him! You’d been an enigma since you transferred to the bizarre town, choosing to keep to yourself, and despite the intimidating height and mass you possessed, he saw through your act in seconds. There was a huge softie under all that muscle, he’d watched you enough to know this as a fact, you were a gem and he was intent on showing you his appreciation and adoration for the rest of his days, a vow he’d silently taken the day you’d stolen his heart, the moment was brief in reality but it lasted forever in his mind, you smiled at him in passing, he could feel time slow down, everyone around you faded in the background, a backdrop to the beginning of your story. He could imagine telling your kids how you’d met, something about the way you’d stare down at him, eyes sharp and attentive, like you truly listened when people spoke, your laugh was loud when it was real and every time he heard it he felt 10 years added to his lifespan. At the same time that icky feeling at another person making you laugh was conflicting, he’d never been in love before but he suddenly understood why his mom had never given up on his dad, love was weird but he wouldn’t give it up for anything. You’d accidentally snapped your chopsticks laughing too hard at a joke he’d tossed out, your face scrunched in embarrassment before chuckling at yourself and switching to a fork, his stand came out on its own, pocketing the shards to fix later, a new item for his ever growing collection, what a cute little memento from your first date! His thoughts swirled happily with the stories you’d be telling your kids. Thankfully neither of you noticed his little pickpocket moment, dangerous plans forming as he stared at you with those misleadingly soft puppy dog eyes.

Kira could die in this moment, happily I might add, as your firm but soft hand was wrapped oh so deliciously around his throat threatening to crush it with ease at the slightest movement. He’d been watching you for a while now, the longest he’d ever spent on someone he didn’t plan to kill, it become sort of hobby he’d picked up recently, the morally upsetting activity bringing peace to his day to day, usually he used his stand to carefully observe your routine, eager to learn all he could about his future spouses likes and desires, but he was getting greedy. Of course he could always introduce himself but he resisted, knowing there was a time and place to get exactly what he wanted. He liked to think he knew everything about you by now, your favorite color, how you liked your coffee, your love for cats, but he didn’t anticipate this. You were much more observant than he’d given you credit for, while you couldn’t see his stand you could sense yourself being watched, and seeing the large blonde lurking indiscriminately in the crowds throughout the day was enough to set you off. So you trailed off into the less crowded parts of town quickly entering an alleyway, he followed in pure confusion only to be roughly slammed into the wall, his stand came out on reflex but simply stared at his attacker, it seemed almost confused as what to do. “Why the hell are you following me pretty boy?” His eyes rolled to the back of his head at the feel of your fingers tightening, god he’d never felt this rush of exhilaration, none of his past ‘girlfriends’ could pull such an illicit reaction from him with a simple touch. When he didn’t answer you simply scoffed and tossed him aside like it was nothing. You left with a threat to stay out of your sight, yet all he could do was smile, the faint imprint of your fingers burned in his skin deliciously, how lucky could one man get?

Mista observed you with hungry eyes. His stare was unapologetically locked on your form. He made no intention to hide his attraction for you. The day you’d joined Buccarati’s crew was the day his world flipped. He assumed his new teammate would be no one to fuck with based on what Bruno told him about your stand, but when you walked in? Needing to bend down slightly just to enter the doorway had him sweating in his seat. He didn’t know what to say as he watched you happily interact with his fellow teammates, immediately you blended with the group, but all that was running through his mind were all the fun things you could do with those muscles. He usually stayed silent around you, not out of dislike as one would assume from his piercing gaze, but fear of accidentally voicing one of those nasty thoughts kept him quiet. You didn’t seem to mind though, always including him in the conversation, you even understood his very valid fear of that dreaded number! How could god plop such a perfect person in his lap and expect him to not do anything about it? Alas, Bruno had specifically told them not to make you uncomfortable with any flirting so he bit his tongue. Your aura was calming, a contrast to your powerful stand, speaking of, he couldn’t get his under control. Whenever they could Sex Pistols was out and all over you. They climbed and clamored for your attention, thankfully you didn’t seem to mind, always entertained their antics when you could, even giving each one a small peck when they wouldn’t let you leave for a mission without Mista, to say he was done for was an understatement, it took one mission going foul for his resistance to snap. His stand moved faster than it ever had, piercing the skulls of the idiots who brought you pain. He left the last one slowly bleeding out kneeling down to wipe the matted hair from your forehead, “You okay baby? Don’t worry honey I’ll make the bastard hurt.” He spoke not breaking eye contact, his hand pointed behind him, grip steady as he unloaded in the poor fool who thought it was a good idea to make you bleed, the wound was small, not even deep enough to trouble Giorno but that didn’t matter to Guido, any slight against you was disrespecting the future parent of his children, and what kind of man would he be if he didn’t defend your honor?

[mythrilhusk]

Korosensei Never Dies -Chapter 9

Words: 2,140 Ao3 Version Chapter 8 (Last)

TW: threats of violence, heavy (but short) discussions of death/murder

Quackity scowls blearily at the returning heroes. He and the other Ducklings were up the whole damn night trying to work out infiltration plans after Bad gave them the location of the laboratory and then peaced out with his team of scammers. Bad won't be returning again, but thanks to him, the Ducklings missed the whole rescue mission.

It's summer vacation, so everyone ought to be home anyway, but Philza promised to teach them fighting, and by the goddamned stars, Quackity is determined to make the old man follow through. 

Philza steps tiredly into the classroom. His bloodshot, baggy eyes go wide in surprise as he sees all the students gathered there. Quackity salutes him with a smirk. Ranboo hides in the shadows of the door, watching Phil with worried sulkiness. 

"Kids, I need a favor." Philza collapses into a chair, hiding his face. "I know you want him dead. But- please. Wait a bit." He hesitates and then continues in a ragged voice, "Purpled hit him with a neutralizing agent. He- he can die, again. I'm begging you all, please don't tell anyone or try to kill him until our time is up." 

"Why should we??" Quackity demands, realizing immediately with a confusing mixture of delight and horror that Technoblade has been rendered vulnerable. Does this mean their plan to sneak into the lab is pointless now? "I don't know." Philza hiccups. He's crying. The tears burn a hole through Quackity's delight. "I don't know, dammit. Please, just wait to kill him at the end of the year. No, better, kill both of us then, I've done the same terrible things as he has! I should be punished too, goddammit, why is he the one to suffer for both our crimes??" 

"I'll wait." Quackity leans back. "I'll fucking wait till time's up, but that doesn't mean I'm giving up my revenge." 

"I'll wait too!" Tommy cries. "I'm the fucking king of procrastination!" 

Sapnap and the Ducklings follow Quackity's example. The others follow Tommy's example. Together, the class proclaims their willingness to postpone Techno's death. 

Philza rubs his eyes and takes the handkerchief Tommy stole from Wilbur to offer him. "Thank you, kids." 

"We still get fighting lessons, right?" Quackity asks with a scowl.

"Yes, of course you do. You've all earned them." Philza smiles tremulously. "Ranboo, Techno, you can come out." 

Ranboo steps into the light, blatantly normal-seeming, so unlike the nightmare Tommy and Charlie described. He hovers beside Technoblade as the former terrorist limps through the room to reach his desk. He seems so small and frail without the mutation-induced strength. He looks so weak. Quackity could put a bullet through his head right now and he wouldn't be able to dodge or absorb it. 

But Quackity sees Philza watching Techno with worried, fond eyes. He thinks of Sapnap. Of Techno eating the goddamn grenade to save Sapnap. 

Quackity decides he can wait. If he kills Technoblade right away, after all, Philza won't give anybody fighting lessons. 

And if Philza doesn't give them fighting lessons, then who the fuck is going to wreak vengeance on whatever motherfucking scientists created the mutants?

++++

Niki and Jack watch through binoculars as their enemies spar with each other in the clearing outside the remote school building designated for Class 3-E. "Dang." Jack says. "They're not bad." 

"They can't fight a bomb." Niki grins. 

"Much less ten." Jack matches Niki's toothy smile. 

"Did you get the supplies?" 

"Yes, ma'am." 

"Good work, Jack." Niki drops lightly from the tree. "We can proceed with the operation Smithereens in a week." 

"Awesome." Jack chuckles darkly. "Do we really want to give them that much time, though?" 

"We need to get them acclimated to the bait, first." Niki taps her fingers to her lips. "This will go wonderfully, Jack, don't worry. That loser class won't be a threat much longer." 

++++

"Sir, Purpled is dead." HBomb reports, wincing nervously in apprehension. 

"The fuck he is, I told that bitch to get me Technoblade, and by god, he'd better do it!" Schlatt tips a whiskey bottle into his mouth, gulping the burning liquid down. He lowers it and peers at HBomb. "Unless somebody fucked up again." 

"He must have, sir." HBomb grasps the lifeline eagerly. "The neutralizing agent was nowhere near his body." 

"What?" Schlatt says calmly, his tone barely warning of the torrent of rage he's about to unleash upon the poor unwitting HBomb. "Where the fuck is it, then?" 

"Our clean-up team found the crushed casing nearby!" HBomb continues to dig his grave. "So-" 

"So he found it, and destroyed it." Schlatt snarls. 

HBomb nods quickly. "Y-yes, but-"

"Do you know how long it took to make enough neutralizer for one dart??" 

"Months, sir, but-"

"And you're telling me Purpled fucked up badly enough that somehow that goddamn mutant knew about the dart and destroyed it." 

"Well- see, we have reason to believe Dream is involved!" 

"Damn it!" Schlatt bellows and smashes the whiskey bottle on the table. His hand starts to bleed and sting from the shards. "HBomb." He growls, trying to pretend he's still in control; he needs to still be in control. "Why the fuck is that motherfucking spider involved?? I gave him a mutant already, why the hell does he want to steal mine??" 

"I thought you'd want his help!" HBomb squeals. "So I let him know we're trying to hunt Technoblade down!" 

"Fuck this, fuck you, you motherfucking imbecile, you complete and utter moron, why the fUCK WOULD YOU BETRAY ME LIKE THIS??" Schlatt roars. 

HBomb cowers, hiding ineffectively behind his broom. "I- I'm sorry, sir, but I thought-"

"Well, there's the fucking problem, yeah, bitch?? You thought. I do the thinking here." Schlatt reaches for his gun. "You want to know what I'm thinking, HBomb? Do you want to know what I'm thinking of, right fucking now??" 

"Pl-please-" HBomb whimpers, staring into the barrel as it aims between his eyes. 

"I'm thinking you're fucking useless to me, HBomb. And you know what happens to useless whiny bitches like you, right?" 

"Please don't kill me!" HBomb sobs. 

"Ahh, whatever." Schlatt lowers the gun, too furious to admit he can't bring himself to actually pull the trigger and become a murderer. "Leave my sight and don't fucking show your ugly mug for a week." 

HBomb scurries away, leaving Schlatt to bind his bloody hand, alone in the sterile laboratory. 

++++

Getting beaten up would have been bearable. Being bullied mercilessly would have been completely deserved. But being completely and utterly ignored for days on end breaks Eret like a goddamn crusher.

The more he thinks back on her actions, the guiltier she feels. During the sparring classes, they copy Philza's moves alone, behind everyone else working with partners. When the class decides to camp in the forest for the rest of summer vacation, Eret sets up his tent several meters away from the rest. She stands back and watches their former friends banter and laugh as they raise their own tents. 

"Hey."

Eret almost jumps at the low voice of Ranboo addressing her. Turning, he faces the mutant, clenching her hands to hide the trembling. "Yeah?" 

Ranboo steps up next to them, gazing into the smoking campfire amidst the scattered tents. "Why are you scared of me?" 

"You- you already know why." Eret stares at his hands. Out, out, damned spot.

"Um. I don't really remember, but yeah, okay." Ranboo sighs. "I- I don't think I'm sorry." 

"Neither am I, apparently." Bitterly laughing, Eret grips her chest as the sharp pain of grief blossoms. 

"I think you are." 

"What do you know??" Eret lashes out, shoving Ranboo. "If everything had gone according to plan, it would all be fine!" 

"But you still wouldn't have any friends." Ranboo replies calmly. 

It hurts that he's right. Eret knows he's right. They turn away, hunched and close to tears. "Why am I scared of you?" She mutters in a low, desperate voice. "Because I know. I saw what you are. I know you- you killed Purpled." 

Ranboo frowns. "Techno killed him." He says it so casually. Techno. As though the bastard wasn't a mass-murderer and terrorist, bestowing violence in the name of anarchy and blood. "What do you think I am?" 

"A monster." Eret snaps, rounding on Ranboo, who backpedals with surprised fear in his eyes. "You're a monster. You might not remember. Your friends might pretend to forget. But I know." 

Ranboo gathers his composure and stands his ground, forcing Eret back a step. "If I'm a monster, and I protected my friends... what does that make you?" He turns on his heel and storms away into the trees. 

Shattered and lost, Eret can only watch him disappear. 

++++

Karl slips a briefcase under the table to his contact, who takes it and gives it a little shake. His contact then slides a folder over the table. Karl snatches it and stuffs it in his backpack. The two remain in silence for a moment longer. Karl leaves first. 

Once out of the main school's cafe, he runs all the way through the woods to the Ducklings' treehouse. Echoing footsteps crack twigs behind him as he reaches the gang's base. 

"Hey, what's that?" Fundy doesn't even bother trying to hide anymore as Karl climbs into the treehouse. 

Karl pulls the ladder up. "None of your business." 

"C'mon, we're in the same class!" 

"You're not a Duckling." 

"I can help!! Pleassse?" Fundy begs. 

"Who the fuck is bugging you, Karl??" Quackity sticks his head out the window. "Fundy?? Get the hell outta here." 

"That was HBomb you were talking to!" Fundy cries desperately. Karl groans and hides his face in his hoodie. "I know that guy! I used to work for him!" 

"Where?" Quackity asks. 

"Some laboratory in the capital!" Fundy cries. "I was shadowing him for a potential internship!" 

"Let the ladder down." Quackity orders. Karl sighs as he obeys. 

"Fine, but I don't trust you." 

"You don't have to." Fundy gives a smug smile as he leaps up the ladder. 

Karl enters the treehouse and sets the blueprints down on the table. Sapnap and Foolish stop painting Connor's hair and gather around with Quackity and Fundy. 

The laboratory blueprints spread across the table, promising revenge. Karl looks up and sees the hungry fire in Quackity's eyes. He looks to the side and meets the molten steel in Sapnap's gaze. 

Quackity draws his dagger and sets the point on the blueprints. "Whoever the fuck's been experimenting on people, let's fucking find them and end their pathetic lives." 

++++

Technoblade slashes the saplings with a rapier, taking out his frustrated fury on the innocent young trees, ignoring the twinges of pain. He shouldn't be this weak. 

Even before Schlatt started experimenting on him, he was stronger than this. He was powerful. The best fighter, the best tactician, the best at strategy. Now his body is frail and hurts merely to move. 

He tries to snarl, but his breath catches in his throat, fear slithering roots into his chest. Irrational. He's being irrational. Technoblade isn't afraid of anything. 

Except perhaps the pale blue of scrubs, the glint of scalpels, the searing agony- No! Technoblade scowls and tries to shove the flashes of terror and hunger and bitter, helpless rage away. 

Philza approaches him with a cup of tea. Technoblade flinches away, unable to look at the man he failed, the friend he abandoned. "Techno?" Philza sets the tea down on a fallen tree and presses a hand to Technoblade's shoulder. 

"Who am I, Phil?" Technoblade begs. Weak. The old Technoblade would never beg, would never cry. 

"You're my friend." Philza answers. 

"Why aren't I dead?" 

"The kids agreed to keep it a secret and wait until the year is up." 

"Phil. It's not going to last forever, Phil, you need to kill me soon. I can feel the damn resonancy in my chest. I don't know how long you have, but you need to kill me before I destroy the world." 

"Techno." Philza's voice shakes. "No. Techno, we'll find something."

"Find what?? It hurts, Phil. It hurts to move, it hurts to talk... I've killed so many people, Phil, I deserve this, I deserve to die! Kill me, please. The kids are too innocent. They don't need to be turned into murderers like me." He thinks of Quackity, the blazing fire. He thinks of Ranboo, the gentle nightmare. Of Tommy, the merciless sunshine. Each and every student. They deserve better. 

"Technoblade." Philza grips Techno's chin and brushes back his hair. "I deserve death as much as you. But I'm going to keep living. There's still people we need to kill, Techno, there's still governments to dismantle! We can't end now! We'll find a cure. A real cure. I promise." 

"I don't want you to die." 

"Ditto, mate." Philza embraces Techno gently. Techno wraps his arms around his friend, afraid to let go.

[love-pyramus]

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NAME: ___________________________________ ROLE: ____________________________________ 2 NEWSIES ACT ONE PROLOGUE: Rooftop, Dawn #1- Overture (Summer, 1899. A figure sleeps peacefully on a rooftop amid the moonlit Manhattan cityscape. It is JACK, a charismatic boy of seventeen. Across the rooftop, another figure stirs. CRUTCHIE, a slight and sickly boy of fifteen, walks with the aid of a wooden crutch. He crosses to the fire escape ladder and fumbles, trying to climb down. JACK stirs.) #2- Santa Fe (Prologue)- Jack, Crutchie JACK: Where you going? Morning bell ain’t rung yet. Get back to sleep. CRUTCHIE: I wanna beat the other fellas to the street. I don’t want anyone should see; I ain’t been walkin’ so good. JACK: Quit gripin’. You know how many guys fake a limp for sympathy? That bum leg of yours is a gold mine. CRUTCHIE: Someone gets the idea I can’t make it on my own, they’ll lock me up in The Refuge for good. Be a pal, Jack. Help me down. (loses his footing and almost falls, yelps.) Whoa!!!! (JACK rushes to CRUTCHIE’S rescue, pulling him back from danger.) JACK: You wanna bust your other leg, too? CRUTCHIE: No. I wanna go down. JACK: You’ll be down there soon enough. Take a moment to drink in my penthouse high above the stinkin’ streets of New York. CRUTCHIE: You’re crazy. JACK: Because I like a breath of fresh air? ‘Cause I like seein’ the sky and the stars? CRUTCHIE: You’re seein’ stars all right! JACK: Them streets down there sucked the life right outta my old man. Years of rotten jobs, stomped on by bosses. And when they finally broke him, they tossed him to the curb like yesterday’s paper. Well, they ain’t doin’ that to me. CRUTCHIE: But everyone wants to come here. JACK: New York’s fine for those what can afford a big strong door to lock it out. But I tell you, Crutchie, there’s a whole other way out there. So you keep your small life in the big city. Give me a big life in a small town. THEY SAY FOLKS IS DYIN’ TO GET HERE, ME I’M DYIN’ TO GET AWAY TO A LITTLE TOWN OUT WEST THAT’S SPANKIN’ NEW AND WHILE I AIN’T NEVER BEEN THERE I CAN SEE IT CLEAR AS DAY IF YOU WANT, I BET’CHA YOU COULD SEE IT TOO 3 CLOSE YOUR EYES, COME WITH ME WHERE IT’S CLEAN AND GREEN AND PRETTY AND THEY WENT AND MADE A CITY OUTTA CLAY WHY, THE MINUTE THAT YA GET THERE FOLKS’LL WALK RIGHT UP AND SAY ”WELCOME HOME, SON WELCOME HOME TO SANTA FE!” (CRUTCHIE is taken under JACK’S spell.) PLANTIN' CROPS, SPLITTIN' RAILS SWAPPIN' TALES AROUND THE FIRE 'CEPT FOR SUNDAY WHEN YOU LIE AROUND ALL DAY SOON YOUR FRIENDS ARE MORE LIKE FAMILY AND THEY'S BEGGIN' YOU TO STAY! AIN'T THAT NEAT? LIVIN' SWEET, IN SANTA FE CRUTCHIE: You got folks there? JACK: Got no folks nowhere. You? CRUTCHIE: I don’t need folks. I got friends. JACK: How’s about you come with me? No one worries about no gimp leg in Santa Fe. You just hop a palomino and ride in style. CRUTCHIE: Feature me: ridin’ in style. JACK: I bet a few months of clean air and you could lose that crutch for good. JACK & CRUTCHIE: SANTA FE, YOU CAN BET WE WON’T LET THEM TOUGH GUYS BEAT US WE WON’T BEG NO ONE TO TREAT US FAIR AND SQUARE THERE'S A LIFE THAT'S WORTH THE LIVIN' AND I'M GONNA DO MY SHARE JACK: WORK THE LAND, CHASE THE SUN JACK & CRUTCHIE: SWIM THE WHOLE RIO GRANDE JUST FOR FUN! CRUTCHIE: (stands on his own.) WATCH ME STAND! WATCH ME RUN... (CRUTCHIE realizes his recover is just a fantasy, and turns away from JACK.) JACK: Hey... (CRUTCHIE looks at him. JACK wraps his arms around his friend protectively.) DON'T YOU KNOW THAT WE'S A FAMILY? WOULD I LET YOU DOWN? NO WAY JUST HOLD ON, KID 'TIL THAT TRAIN MAKES SANTA FE (CRUTCHIE leans against JACK as the sun rises behind them. The church bell tolls 5 a.m., which breaks the spell.) JACK: Time for dreamin’s done. (JACK takes CRUTCHIE’S crutch and bangs it on the fire escape metal, sounding an alarm.) Hey! Specs, Racer, Henry, Albert, Elmer. Get a move on, boys. Them papes don’t sell themselves! #2A- Prologue (Playoff) SCENE ONE: Newsboys’ Lodging House & Newsie Square (RACE, a little tough guy, calls to the others as he dresses.)

4 RACE: Hey, Albert, Elmer, Specs! You heard Jack. Get a move on. (ALBERT appears next to him, still wiping the sleep from his eyes.) ALBERT: I was havin’ the most beautiful dream. My lips is still tingling. RACE: A pretty girl? ALBERT: A leg of lamb! #3- Carrying the Banner- Jack, Newsies, Nuns (More BOYS begin to appear as they dress and wash. ALBERT smokes a cigar.) RACE: Hey! That's my cigar! ALBERT: YOU'LL STEAL ANOTHER. SPECS: (Referring to the other BOYS,) HEY, LOOK, IT'S BATH TIME AT THE ZOO. HENRY: I THOUGHT THAT I'D SURPRISE MY MOTHER. ALBERT: If you can find her. NEWSIES: Who asked you? ALBERT: Papes ain’t movin’ like they used to. I need a new sellin’ spot. Got any ideas? RACE: FROM BOTTLE ALLEY TO THE HARBOR THERE'S EASY PICKIN'S GUARANTEED. FINCH: TRY ANY BANKER, BUM OR BARBER. THEY ALMOST ALL KNOWS HOW TO READ. JACK: IT'S A CROOKED GAME WE'RE PLAYIN', ONE WE'LL NEVER LOSE LONG AS SUCKERS DON'T MIND PAYIN' JUST TO GET BAD NEWS! (The NEWSIES move outdoors to the Newsie Square.) NEWSIES: AIN'T IT A FINE LIFE CARRYING THE BANNER THROUGH IT ALL! A MIGHTY FINE LIFE CARRYING THE BANNER TOUGH AND TALL. WHEN THAT BELL RINGS, WE GOES WHERE WE WISHES. WE'S AS FREE AS FISHES, SURE BEATS WASHIN' DISHES. WHAT A FINE LIFE, CARRYING THE BANNER HOME FREE ALL! (KATHERINE, a lovely young lady, walks by with a friend. ROMEO spots her and starts towards her, but JACK sees her too.) ROMEO: Well, hello, hello, hello, beautiful. JACK: Step back, Romeo. Nothin’ what concerns you here. (moves ROMEO aside and shoots to KATHERINE.) Morning Miss. Can I interest you in the latest news? KATHERINE: The paper isn’t out yet. JACK: I’d be delighted to bring it to you personally. KATHERINE: I’ve got a headline for you: “Cheeky Boy Gets Nothing for His Troubles!” (KATHERINE brushes past JACK and joins her friend.) ROMEO: Back to the bench slugger. You struck out. JACK: (Feigning pain) I’m crushed. FINCH: Hey, Crutchie. What's your leg say? Gonna rain? CRUTCHIE: (shakes his leg) No rain. Partly cloudy. Clear by evening. FINCH: They oughta bottle this guy. RACE: And the limp sells fifty papes a week all by itself. CRUTCHIE: I don't need the limp to sell papes. I got personality. IT TAKES A SMILE THAT SPREADS LIKE BUTTER 5 THE KIND WHAT TURNS A LADY'S HEAD. RACE: IT TAKES AN ORPHAN WITH A STUTTER, FINCH: WHO'S ALSO BLINDALBERT: AND MUTEELMER: AND DEAD! JACK & CRUTCHIE: SUMMER STINKS AND WINTER'S FREEZIN' WHEN YOU WORKS OUTDOORS. JACK, CRUTCHIE, BUTTONS, SPLASHER, & TOMMY BOY: START OUT SWEATIN', END UP SNEZIN', NEWSIES: IN BETWEEN IT POURS! STILL IT'S A FINE LIFE, CARRYING THE BANNER WITH ME CHUMS, (STILL IT’S A FINE LIFE, CARRYING THE BANNER) A BUNCH OF BIG SHOTS, TOSSIN' OUT A FREEBIE TO THE BUMS. (A BUNCH OF BIG SHOTS, TOSSIN’ OUT A FREEBIE) FINCH: (calling to the NEWSIES) HEY! WHAT'S THE HOLD UP? WAITIN' MAKES ME ANTSY. I LIKES LIVIN' CHANCEY NEWSIES: HARLEM TO DELANCEY. WHAT A FINE LIFE CARRYING THE BANNER THROUGH THE... (A group of NUNS appears and distributes a breakfast of coffee and doughnuts to the NEWSIES) NUNS: BLESSED CHILDREN, THOUGH YOU WANDER LOST AND DEPRAVED, JESUS LOVES YOU. YOU SHALL BE SAVED. ELMER: Thanks for the grub, Sistuh. NUN 1: Elmer, when are we going to see you inside the church? ELMER: I don’t know, Sistuh. But it’s bound to rain sooner or later. (SIMULTANEOUS) NUNS: BLESSED CHILDREN, AH. JESUS LOVES YOU, AH RACE: CURDLED COFFEE, CONCRETE DONUTS SPRINKLED WITH MOLD, HOMEMADE BISCUITS, JUST TWO YEARS OLD. ELMER: JUST GIVE ME HALF A CUP. HENRY: SOMETHING TO WAKE ME UP. ROMEO: I GOTTA FIND AN ANGLE. TOMMY BOY: IT'S GETTING BAD OUT THERE. MUSH: PAPERS IS ALL I GOT. SPECS: IT'S EIGHTY-EIGHT DEGREES. JO JO: JACK SAYS TO CHANGE MY SPOT. ALBERT: WISH I COULD CATCH A BREEZE. FINCH: MAYBE IT'S WORTH A SHOT. BUTTONS: ALL I CAN CATCH IS FLEAS. JACK: IF I HATE THE HEADLINE. I'LL MAKE UP A HEADLINE. JACK & A FEW NEWSIES: AND I'LL SAY ANYTHING I HAVE'TA JACK & MORE NEWSIES: 'CAUSE AT TWO FOR A PENNY, IF I TAKE TOO MANY WEASEL JUST MAKES ME EAT 'EM AFTA.

(The NEWSIES continue their journey through downtown Manhattan.) NEWSIE GROUP 1: (SIMULTANEOUSLY WITH NEWSIE GROUP 2 BELOW): GOT A FEELIN' 'BOUT THE HEADLINE! I SMELLS ME A HEADLINE! PAPES ARE GONNA SELL LIKE WE WAS GIVIN' 'EM AWAY! 6 BET'CHA DINNER IT'S A DOOZY, 'BOUT A PISTOL-PACKIN' FLOOZY WHO KNOWS HOW TO MAKE A NEWSIE'S DAY NEWSIE GROUP 2: I DO, TOO! SO IT MUST BE TRUE! WHAT A SWITCH! SOON WE'LL ALL BE RICH! DON'T KNOW ANY BETTER WAY TO MAKE A NEWSIES DAY! NEWSIES: YOU WANNA MOVE THE NEXT EDITION? GIVE US AN EARTHQUAKE OR A WAR. ELMER: HOW 'BOUT A CROOKED POLITICIAN? NEWSIES: YA NITWIT, THAT AIN'T NEWS NO MORE! UPTOWN TO GRAND CENTRAL STATION, DOWN TO CITY HALL, WE IMPROVES OUR CIRCULATION WALKIN' 'TILL WE FALL! NEWSIE GROUP 1 (SIMULTANEOUS WITH NEWSIE GROUP 2 BELOW): BUT WE'LL BE OUT THERE CARRYING THE BANNER MAN TO MAN. WE'RE ALWAYS OUT THERE SOAKIN' EV'RY SUCKER THAT WE CAN. HERE'S THE HEADLINE: NEWSIES ON A MISSION! KILL THE COMPETITION! SELL THE NEXT EDITION! WE'LL BE OUT THERE CARRYING THE BANNER! SEE US OUT THERE CARRYING THE BANNER! ALWAYS OUT THERE CARRYING THE BANNER! NEWSIE GROUP 2: GOT A FEELIN' 'BOUT THE HEADLINE! I SMELLS ME A HEADLINE! PAPES ARE GONNA SELL LIKE WE WAS GIVIN' 'EM AWAY! BET'CHA DINNER IT'S A DOOZY 'BOUT A PISTOL-PACKIN' FLOOZY! DON'T KNOW ANY BETTER WAY TO MAKE A NEWSIE'S DAY! I WAS STAKIN' OUT THE CIRCUS, AND THEN SOMEONE SAID THAT CONEY'S REALLY HOT, BUT WHEN I GET THERE, THERE WAS SPOT WITH ALL HIS CRONIES. HECK, I'M GONNA TAKE WHAT LITTLE DOUGH I GOT AND PLAY THE PONIES! WE AT LEAST DESERVE A HEADLINE FOR THE HOURS THAT THEY WORK US. JEEZ, I BET IF I JUST STAYED A LITTLE LONGER AT THE CIRCUS... (The NEWSIES have arrived at the locked gate in front of the World- a prominent newspaper owned by Joseph Pulitzer.) FINCH: Hey, look! They’re puttin’ up the headline. SPECS: I hope it’s really bloody. With a nice clear picture. ROMEO: Please be murder, please be a murder! (A large chalkboard looms above. The NEWSIES watch in anticipation as a MAN writes the headline in large letters, “TROLLEY STRIKE ENTERS THIRD WEEK.”) ELMER: The trolley strike? IKE: Not again! RACE: Three weeks of the same story. FINCH: They’re killin’ us with that snoozer. SCRUB: I was hopin’ to eat today. (Two tough-looking boys, OSCAR and MORRIS DELANCEY, unlock the gates.) MORRIS: Make way. Step aside. 7 RACE: Dear me, what is that unpleasant aroma? I fear the sewer may have backed up during the night. PEPPER: Or could it be... NEWSIES: ...the Delancey brothers. FINCH: Hey, Oscar, word on the street says you and your brother took money to beat up striking trolley workers. OSCAR: So? It’s honest work. ALBERT: But crackin’ the heads of defenseless workers? OSCAR: I take care of the guy who takes care of me. RACE: Ain’t your father one of the strikers? OSCAR: Guess he didn’t take care of me! (As if to make his point, MORRIES grabs CRUTCHIE and throws him to the ground.) MORRIS: You want some of that too? Ya lousy crip! (JACK pulls CRUTCHIE back to his feet and then confronts the DELANCEYS. The NEWSIES back up to give JACK room.) JACK: Now that’s not nice, Morris. RACE: Five to one Jack skunks ‘em! SWISH: My money’s on Jack! JACK: One unfortunate day you might find you got a bum gam of your own. How’d you like us pickin’ on you? Maybe we should find out. (And with that, Jack takes CRUTCHIE’S walking stick and smacks the DELANCEYS in the shins, knocking them both to the ground.) OSCAR: Wait till I get my hands on you. JACK: Ya gotta catch me first. (A chase ensues as the NEWSIES sing and dance their way in through the front gate....) NEWSIES: WE'LL ALL BE OUT THERE CARRYING THE BANNER MAN TO MAN. WE'RE ALWAYS OUT THERE SOAKIN' EV'RY SUCKER THAT WE CAN. HERE'S THE HEADLINE: “NEWSIES ON A MISSION!” KILL THE COMPETITION! SELL THE NEXT EDITION! WE'LL BE OUT THERE CARRYING THE BANNER! SEE US OUT THERE CARRYING THE BANNER! ALWAYS OUT THERE CARRYING THE BANNER! AH, AH, AH, GO! (The NEWSIES arrive at the distribution windows of the World. WIESEL, an ill-tempered, rumpled man,

appears with the DELANCEYS to collect the money and distribute the papers to the NEWSIES.) WIESEL: Papers for the Newsies! Line up! (JACK is first to the window.) JACK: Good morning, Weasel. Did you miss me? WIESEL: That’s Wise-el. JACK: Ain’t that what I said? (Slapping down his money.) I’ll take the usual. WIESEL: A hundred papes for the wise guy. (OSCAR hands over the papers and RACE moves up to the window.) RACE: How’s it going, Weasel? WIESEL: At least call me “mister.” RACE: I’ll call you sweetheart if you’d spot me fifty papes. (The other NEWSIES laugh.) WIESEL: Drop the cash and move it along. 8 RACE: (slapping down his coin) Whatever happened to romance? WIESEL: Fifty for the Race. Next! CRUTCHIE: Good morning, Mr. Wiesel. WIESEL: Fifty papes for Crutchie. (DAVEY, a 17-year-old-boy who appears out of his element, and his kid brother LES, are next in line.) Have a look at this: a new kid. LES: I’m new too! KNUCKLES: Ya don’t say. RACE: Don’t worry, kid- rubs right off. DAVEY: I’ll take twenty newspapers, please. WIESEL: Twenty for the new kid. Let’s see the dime. DAVEY: I’ll pay you when I sell them. WIESEL: Funny, kid. C’mon, cash up front. DAVEY: But whatever I don’t sell, you buy back, right? WIESEL: Certainly. And every time you lose a tooth I put a penny under your pillow. This kid’s a riot. C’mon. Cough up the cash or blow. (Davey hands over a dime, gets his papers, and looks them over.) Come on, move along. Albert, lemme see your money. ALBERT: You have a very interestin’ face. Ever think of getting’ into the movin’ pictures? WIESEL: You think I could? ALBERT: Sure. Buy a ticket, they let anyone in. WIESEL: Beat it, will ya? DUCKY: Twenty papers please. DAVEY: Sorry. Excuse me. I paid for twenty but you gave me nineteen. (EVERYONE freezes and watches. JACK swoops in and quickly counts the papers.) WIESEL: You seen how nice I was to dis new kid? And what did I get for my civility? Ungrounded accusations. DAVEY: I just want what I paid for. OSCAR: He said beat it! (The DELANCEYS start to crack their knuckles.) JACK: New kid’s right, Weasel. Ya gave him nineteen. I’m sure it was an honest mistake on account’a Oscar can’t count to twenty with his shoes on. (OSCAR threatens to attack. WIESEL pushes him back and tosses another paper to DAVEY.) WIESEL: Here. Now take a hike. JACK: (flipping a coin onto the counter) Give him another fifty papes. DAVEY: I don’t want more papes. JACK: What kind’a Newsie don’t want more papes? (Oscar hands DAVEY a stack of papers. DAVEY follows JACK with them.) DAVEY: I’m no charity case. I don’t even know you. LES: His name’s Jack. CRUTCHIE: This here is the famous Jack Kelly. He once escaped jail on the back of Teddy Roosevelt’s carriage. Made all the papes. JACK: (to LES) How old are you, kid? LES: I’m ten. Almost. JACK: If anybody asks, you’re seven. Younger sells more papes, and if we’re gonna be partners.... DAVEY: Who said we want a partner? CRUTCHIE: Sellin’ with Jack is the chance of a lifetime. You learn from him, you learn from the best. 9 DAVEY: If he’s the best, what’s he need with me? JACK: ‘Cause you got a little brother and I don’t. That face could sell a thousand papes a week. (to LES) Look sad, kid. (LES makes a sad face.) We’re gonna make millions. LES: This is my brother David. I’m Les. JACK: Nice to meet ya, Davey. My two bits come off the top, and we split everything 70-30. LES: 50-50! You wouldn’t try to pull a fast one on a little kid. JACK: 60-40 and that’s my final offer. LES: Deal. (JACK spits in his hand and holds it out to shake. LES copies him and they shake.) DAVEY: That’s disgusting. JACK: It’s just business. (to ALL) Newsies, hit the streets. The sun is up, the headline stinks, and this kid ain’t getting’ any younger! #3- Carrying The Banner (Tag)- Newsies NEWSIES: WE'LL ALL BE OUT THERE CARRYING THE BANNER MAN TO MAN. WE'RE ALWAYS OUT THERE SOAKIN' EV'RY SUCKER THAT WE CAN. HERE'S THE HEADLINE: “NEWSIES ON A MISSION!” KILL THE COMPETITION! SELL THE NEXT EDITION! WE'LL BE OUT THERE CARRYING THE BANNER!

SEE US OUT THERE CARRYING THE BANNER! ALWAYS OUT THERE CARRYING THE BANNER! AH, AH, AH, GO! (The NEWSIES exit as the scene shifts to...) SCENE TWO: Pulitzer’s Office, Afternoon (Editor SEITZ, secretary HANNAH, and accountant BUNSEN huddle in a business meeting. The mogul, JOSEPH PULITZER, is having his hair cut by NUNZIO, the barber.) PULITZER: Staff, the World is in trouble. Our circulation is down for the third quarter in a row. SEITZ: But, Mr. Pulitzer, every paper’s circulation is down since the war ended. PULITZER: Whoever said, “war is a tragedy”, wasn’t trying to sell newspapers. BUNSEN: We could use an exciting headline. PULITZER: What have we got today? SEITZ: The trolley strike. PULITZER: That’s not exciting? It’s epic! HANNAH: It’s boring. Folks wanna know, “Is the trolley comin’ or ain’t it?” No one cares why. SEITZ: And the strike’s about to be settled. Governor Roosevelt just put his support behind the workers. PULITZER: That man is a socialist. SEITZ: Teddy Roosevelt is no socialist. He’s an American hero. PULITZER: The man wants to outlaw football for being too violent. Football! Violent?! You’re right. He’s not socialist. He’ a commie! NUNZIO: Mr. Pulitzer, please, you must try to sit still. PULITZER: Gentlemen, please, you are making Nunzio nervous. And when Nunzio gets nervous, I don’t look pretty. (PULITZER sits back.) HANNAH: You never liked Roosevelt. You wrote and editorial against him day after day when he ran for governor. And guess what? He got elected. PULITZER: How can I influence voters if they’re not reading my opinion? 10 SEITZ: Big photos attract readers. PULITZER: Do you know what big photos cost? BUNSEN: But without flashy photos or headlines, how are we supposed to sell more papers. PULITZER: There’s an answer right before your eyes. You’re not thinking this through. People... #3- The Bottom Line- Pulitzer, Seitz, Bunsen, Hannah PULITZER: NUNZIO KNOWS WHEN HE’S CUTTING MY HAIR TRIM A BIT HERE AND THEN TRIM A BIT THERE JUST A MODEST ADJUSTMENT CAN FATTEN THE BOTTOM LINE NUNZIO: Mr. Pulitzer, please. PULITZER: SHAVING IS TRICKY: THE RAZOR SHOULD FLOAT SHAVE ME TOO CLOSE, AND YOU MAY CUT MY THROAT IT’S THE SIMPLEST SOLUTIONS THAT BOLSTER THE BOTTOM LINE BUNSEN: But how does that help us sell more papers? HANNAH: We don’t sell papers, silly, Newsies sell papers. BUNSEN: I’ve got it! Right now we charge the Newsies fifty cents for a hundred papers. PULITZER: Yes... BUNSEN: But if we raised their price to sixty cents per hundred... PULITZER: Now you’re getting somewhere... SEITZ: A mere tenth of a penny per paper. BUNSEN: Every single Newsie would have to sell twenty-five more papers just to earn the same amount as always. PULITZER: My thoughts exactly. It’s genius. HANNAH: It’s going to be awfully rough on those children. PULITZER: Nonsense. I’m giving them a real life lesson in economics. I couldn’t offer them a better education if they were my own. GIVE ME A WEEK AND I’LL TRAIN THEM TO BE, LIKE AN ARMY THAT’S MARCHING TO WAR PROUD OF THEMSELVES AND SO GRATEFUL TO ME, THEY’LL BE BEGGING TO PAY EVEN MORE! WHEN THERE’S DIRT ON OUR SHOES, BOYS, YOU HAVE TO RELAX! WHY THROW THEM OUT? ALL WE NEED IS SOME WAX LISTEN WELL TO THESE BARBERSHIP LESSONS FOR THEY’LL SEE YOU THROUGH! SIETZ, HANNAH & BUNSEN: WHEN YOU’RE STUCK IN THE MUCK, YOU’LL BE FINEYOU’LL ERASE ANY TRACE OF DECLINE SEITZ: WHAT A TRIM! HANNAH: AND A SNIP! BUNSEN: AND A SHINE! PULITZER: AND THE POWER OF PRESS, YES! ONCE AGAIN IS MINE! PULITZER: The price for the Newsies goes up in the morning! PULITZER: JUST A FEW COMMON CENTS, GENTS, THAT’S THE BOTTOM LINE! SIETZ, HANNAH & BUNSEN: EV’RY NEW OUTCOME IS INCOME FOR YOU, THANKS TO THAT BOTTOM LINE! (The lights shift from the office to the NEWSIES during the scene transition.) #4A- Carrying The Banner (Reprise)- Newsies 11 NEWSIES: SUN UP TO SUNDOWN, KNOWIN’ WHERE MY CUSTOMERS’LL BE SUN UP TO SUNDOWN, WATCHIN’ ALL THE LADIES WATCHIN’ ME WALKED MY SHOES OFF, GOT THE DOUGH TO SHOW IT PROBABLY I’LL BLOW IT, THEN BEFORE YOU KNOW IT WE’LL BE OUT THERE, CARRYING THE BANNER….

(The scene shifts to...) SCENE THREE: A Street Corner (JACK leans against a building as DAVEY attempts to peddle papers to a GROUP OF GIRLS.) GIRL 1: And he said I couldn’t see him again! GIRL 2: Who? Your father? GIRL 1: Yeah, just because he didn’t… GIRL 3: Wait, I thought he worked for him? DAVEY: Paper. Paper. Evenin’ pape here. Care for a paper ladies? (The GIRL GROUP giggles) GIRL 2: No thanks. GIRL 3: He was cute! JACK: Sing ‘em to sleep why dontcha? (Snatches a paper from DAVEY and hawks it.) Extra! Extra! Terrified flight from burnin’ inferno! You heard the story right here! PASSERBY: Oh no! What burned down? (PASSERBY snatches the paper from JACK, hands him a coin JACK: Thanks madam! (PASSERBY opens the paper and exits in a rush.) DAVEY: You made that up. JACK: Did not. I said he heard it right here, and he did. DAVEY: My father taught us not to lie. JACK: And mine taught me not to starve. (LES comes up empty-handed.) LES: Hey! I just sold my last paper. DAVEY: I got one more. JACK: Sell it or pay for it. LES: Give it here. (takes the paper, sidles up to a WOMAN and SALLY passing by, and puts the saddest look on his face.) Buy a paper from a poor orphan boy? (LES coughs gently.) WOMAN: Oh, you dear thing. Of course I’ll take a newspaper. Here’s a dime. (The WOMAN and SALLY exit with the paper. SALLY turns and smiles at LES before leaving.) JACK: Born to the breed. LES: This is so much better than school! DAVEY: Don’t even think it. When Pop goes back to work, we go back to school. (While the boys talk, SNYDER, a sinister looking man, sees JACK and steps back again a building. He seems excited to have spotted the boy. Cautiously, he flags down a POLICEMAN and whispers to him.) JACK: So’s how about we divvy up the money, grab some chow, then find you’s somewhere save to spend the night? DAVEY: We gotta get home. Our folks will be waitin’ dinner. JACK: Ya got folks, huh? LES: Doesn’t everybody? DAVEY: (Elbows his brother) Our dad tangled with a delivery truck on the job. Messed his leg up bad, so 12 they laid him off. That’s how come we had to find work. JACK: Yeah, sure, that makes sense. Too bad about your dad. DAVEY: Why don’t you come home with us for dinner? Our folks would be happy to have you. LES: Mom’s a great cook. JACK: Thanks for the invite, but I just remembered I got plans with a fella. He’s probably waiting on me right now. (SNYDER and the POLICEMAN have been slowly moving toward the BOYS. LES spots them and points.) #5- The Chase LES: Is that the guy you’re meetin’? (JACK looks up and sees SNYDER.) SNYDER: Kelly! JACK: (grabbing LES) Run for it! SNYDER: Officer, grab him! You, Jack Kelly, stop! Kelly! (JACK, DAVEY, and LES leap onto a fire escape ladder and take off. The POLICEMAN and SNYDER try to follow. The BOYS climb over the roof and back down the other side, into the flies of a burlesque house.) SCENE FOUR: Medda’s Theater JACK: Slow down. We lost ‘em. DAVEY: Someone want to tell me why I’m running? I got no one chasing me. Who was that guy? JACK: That was Snyder the Spider. A real sweetie. He runs a jail for underage kids called The Refuge. The more kids he locks up, the more money the city pays him. Problem is, all the money goes straight to his own pocket. Do yourself a favor and stay clear of him and The Refuge. (MEDDA LARKIN, a burlesque star, appears in a revealing costume. The EMCEE and two showgirls, the BOWERY BEAUTIES, get ready for the performance.) MEDDA: Hey, you up there, shoo! No kids allowed in the theater. JACK: Not even me, Miss Medda? MEDDA: (recognizing the intruder) Jack Kelly, man of mystery. Get yourself down here and give me a hug. Where have you been keepin’ yourself, kid? (JACK, DAVEY, and LES come down to the stage.) JACK: Never far from you, Miss Medda. Boys, may I present Miss Medda Larkin: the greatest star on the Bowery today. She also owns the joint. MEDDA: The only thing I own is a mortgage. Pleasure, gents. DAVEY: A pleasure. (DAVEY bows gallantly, but LES just stands wide-eyed, staring at the BOWERY

BEAUTIES. DAVEY smacks him.) What’s wrong with you? LES: Are you blind? She got no clothes on! DAVEY: That’s her costume. LES: But I can see her legs! MEDDA: (to DAVEY) Step out of his way so’s he can get a better look. Theater’s not only entertaining, it’s educational. (posing) Got the picture, kid? JACK: Miss Medda, I got a little situation out on the street. Mind if I hide out here a while? MEDDA: Where better to escape trouble than a theater? Is Snyder after you again? LES: Hey Jack, did you really escape jail on the back of Teddy Roosevelt’s carriage? DAVEY: What would the Governor be doing at a juvenile jail? JACK: So happens he was runnin’ for office and wanted to show he cared about orphans and such. So while he got his mug in the paper, I got my butt in the back seat and we rode together. 13 LES: You really know the Governor? MEDDA: He don’t, but I do! Say, Jack, when you’ve got time, I want you to paint me some more of these backdrops. (Indicates a park scene drop behind her) This last one you did is a doozy. Folks love it. And things have been going so well that I can actually pay. JACK: I couldn’t take your money, Miss Medda. LES: You pictured that? MEDDA: Your friend is quite an artist. JACK: I don’t get carried away. It’s a bunch of trees. DAVEY: You’re really good. MEDDA: That boy’s got natural aptitude. LES: Geez. I never knew no one with a aptitude. (The EMCEE calls to her.) EMCEE: Miss Medda, you’re on! MEDDA: (strikes a pose) Yeah? How’m I doin’? (to the BOYS) Boys, lock the door and stay all night. You’re with Medda now! EMCEE: (announcing MEDDA as she moves toward the stage) Ladies and gentleman, please welcome the star of our show.... Miss Medda Larkin! (MEDDA is captured in a spotlight. The BOYS watch from the wings, completely entranced, while she performs to the crowd of NY CITIZENS.) #6- That’s Rich- Medda MEDDA: I'M DOING ALL RIGHT FOR MYSELF FOLKS: I'M HEALTHY, I'M WEALTHY, I'M WISE. MY INVESTMENTS AND SUCH HAVE ALL GONE UP SO MUCHSEEMS WHATEVER I TOUCH STARTS TO RISE. I’VE BEEN ALL KINDS OF LUCKY AND YET THE THING I WANT MOST...I CAN'T GET. I LIVE IN A MANSION ON LONG ISLAND SOUND. I PULLED UP A WEED, THEY FOUND OIL IN THE GROUND. BUT YOU TELLING ME YOU DON'T WANT ME AROUNDNOW, HONEY, THAT'S RICH. (to audience members) SOME GUYS GIVE ME ERMINE, CHINCHILLA AND MINK AND GIVE ME DIAMONDS AS BIG AS A SINK, BUT YOU WOULDN'T GIVE ME AS MUCH AS A WINKNOW, BABY, THAT'S RICH. I GET BRANDY FROM ANDY AND CANDY FROM SCOTT. OH, AND FRANK AND EDUARDO CHIPPED IN FOR A YACHT. I GET STARES FROM THE FELLAS AND PRAYERS FROM THE POPE, BUT I RAN OUT MY LUCK GETTING STUCK WITH THIS MOPE! MEDDA: (to audience member) Oh, honey, I was just talking about you! (To “Him”) NOW, LISTEN, SPORT, THIS LIFE'S TOO SHORT TO WASTE IT ON YOU. IT MAY BE ROUGH, BUT SOON ENOUGH I'LL LEARN TO MAKE DO….WITH THE MANSION, THE OIL WELL, THE DIAMONDS, THE YACHT, 14 WITH ANDY, EDUARDO, THE PONTIFF AND SCOTT AND FRANK. AND MY BANK! SO SPILL NO TEARS FOR ME, 'CAUSE THERE'S ONE THING YOU AIN'T THAT I'LL ALWAYS BE, AND HONEY, YEAH, THAT'S RIGHT, THAT'S RICH! THAT'S RICH! THAT'S RICH! MEDDA: That’s rich! (MEDDA bows. JACK’s eyes are drawn to a box seat out front where KATHERINE sits watching the show. The set shifts as he crosses the stage and climbs the stairs.) #6A- I Never Planned On You/Don’t Come a-Knocking- Jack, Bowery Beauties MEDDA: And now, gents, let’s have a big hand for the Bowery Beauties! (The BOWERY BEAUTIES begin to dance.) BOWERY BEAUTIES: DON’T COME A-KNOCKING ON MY DOOR JACK: (climbs into the box) Well, hello again. KATHERINE: This is a private box. JACK: (Moving closer) Want I should lock the door? (Moving closer still) Twice in one day. Think it’s fate? KATHERINE: (Dismissive) Go away. I'm working. JACK: A working girl, huh? Doin’ what? KATHERINE: Reviewing the show for the New York Sun. JACK: Hey! I work for the World. KATHERINE: Somewhere out there someone cares. Go tell them. JACK: The view’s better here. KATHERINE: Please go. I am not in the habit of speaking to strangers. JACK:

Then you’re gonna make a lousy reporter. The name’s Jack Kelly. KATHERINE: Is that what it says on your rap sheet? JACK : A smart girl. I admire smart girls. (Admiring KATHERINE) Beautiful. Smart. Independent. KATHERINE: (Getting loud) Do you mind!? MEDDA: (Hollering up to JACK and KATHERINE) You got in for free. At least pay attention. JACK: Sorry Medda. (KATHERINE returns to watching the show, but JACK only has eyes for her. He takes a piece of newsprint ad a pencil in his pocket and begins to sketch of portrait of her. The image of the drawing appears in projections behind them.) JACK: I GOT NO USE FOR MOONLIGHT OR SAPPY POETRY. LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT'S FOR SUCKERS, AT LEAST IT USED TO BE. LOOK, GIRLS ARE NICE, ONCE OR TWICE, TILL I FIND SOMEONE NEW, BUT I NEVER PLANNED ON SOMEONE LIKE YOU. (Sings simultaneously with the Bowery Beauties) I GOT NO USE FOR MOONLIGHT OR SAPPY POETRY. LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT'S FOR SUCKERS, AT LEAST IT USED TO BE. JACK: NO, I NEVER PLANNED ON NO ONE LIKE YOU. BOWERY BEAUTIES: DON'T COME A KNOCKING ON MY DOOR. 15 YOU AREN'T WELCOME HERE NO MORE. I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN YOU STUNK LIKE YESTERDAY'S TRASH THE NIGHT YOU STOLE MY HEART PLUS FORTY DOLLARS IN CASH. TURNS OUT MY BEAU IS JUST SOME BUM. TURNS OUT THAT LOVE AIN'T BLIND, IT'S DUMB. YOU NEVER TOLD THE TRUTH OR WORKED A DAY IN YOUR LIFE. IN FACT, YOU'RE SO REVOLTIN', I FEEL BAD FOR YOUR WIFE. KATHERINE: What are you doing? JACK: Quiet down. There's a show going on. KATHERINE: You are the most impossible boyJACK: Shhh! KATHERINE: Ever. BOWERY BEAUTIES: I WON'T BE SHAVING YOUR BACK ANYMORE, NO, SENOR. JACK: NO, I NEVER PLANNED ON NO ONE LIKE YOU. BOWERY BEAUTIES: DON'T COME A-KNOCKING ON MY DOOR! BOWERY BEAUTIES: DON'T COME A-KNOCKING ON MY DOOR! BOWERY BEAUTIES: DON'T COME A-KNOCKING ON MY DOOR! (JACK places the newsprint on the empty chair as he exits. KATHERINE looks at it and sees the portrait of herself, beautifully rendered. We can almost see her blush.) #6B- To the Distribution Window SCENE FIVE: Newsie Square, Next Morning (A few NEWSIES convene outside the distribution window of the World as the circulation bell tolls.) SPLASHER: Them fire sirens kept me awake all night. MUSH: Sirens is like lullabies to me. The louder they wail the better the headline. And the better the headline, the better I eat. And the better I eat... SPLASHER: (cutting MUSH off) ...the further away from you I sleep! (LES and DAVEY arrive.) DAVEY: ‘Morning, everybody. Sorry we’re late. GUM GUM: You didn’t miss nothin’ yet. NEWBY: What made your mornin’ excitin’ this early? DAVEY: We had to help our mom with something. RACE: They gotta mudder? I was gonna get me one. ROMEO: What’d you do with the one you had? BUTTONS: He traded her for a box of cigars. RACE: They was Coronas! LES: We have a father too. BUTTONS: A mudder and a fodder. RACE: Ain’t we the hoi polloi? LES: So, how’s it going today? TOMMY BOY: Ask me after they put up the headline. (LES looks up to read it.) CHICKLET: Here it comes now. 16 ALBERT: (reading) “New Newsie Price: Sixty Cents Per Hundred.” MUSH: What’d you say? (The NEWSIES begin to take notice.) DAVEY: Is that news? MIKE: It is to me. ALBERT: They jacked up the price of papes. RACKET: Ten cents more a hundred! ELMER: I can eat two days on a dime. CRUTCHIE: I’ll be sleepin’ on the street. JO JO: You already sleep on the street. CRUTCHIE: In a worse neighborhood. (JACK arrives.) SALAMI: Wait’ll Jack hear’s about this. IKE: He’s gonna lose it. CRISS-CROSS: Here he comes now! KNUCKLES: Jack, check this out. JACK: What’re you all standin’ around for? CRUTCHIE: Get a load of this, Jack. ROMEO: Like Pulitzer don’t make enough already? CHICKLET: The rich gotta get richer…. CURLY: While we all gotta starve ta death. (WIESEL opens his window for business. He stares at the NEWSIES with a malevolent smile.) WIESEL: Papes for the Newsies. JACK: Relax. It’s gotta be a gag. WIESEL: Line up, boys. (JACK goes up to the window and slaps his money down.)

JACK: Good joke, Weasel. Really got the fellas goin’. I’ll take a hundred and be on my way. WIESEL: A hundred’ll cost ya sixty. JACK: I ain’t payin’ no sixty— WIESEL: Then make way for someone who will. (SPECS and a few more NEWSIES arrive.) JACK: You bet! Me and the fellas will take a hike over to The Journal. NEWSIES: YEAH!!! SPECS: I’ll save you the walk. They upped their price too. JACK: Then we’ll take our business to the Sun! WIESEL: It’s the same price all around town. New day. New price. BUDDY: Why the jack-up? WIESEL: For them kind’a answers you gotta ask a little further up the food chain. So, you buyin’ or movin’ on? JACK: C’mere fellas. (The NEWSIES huddle together as a gang.) FINCH: They can’t just do that, can they? RACE: Why not? It’s their paper. CRUTCHIE: It’s their world. HENRY: Ain’t we got no rights? CRUTCHIE: We got the right to starve. C’mon, let’s get our papes and hit the streets while we still can. HENRY: At them prices? CRUTCHIE: We got a choice? PICKLES: If it’s the same everywhere, then I don’t see another option. 17 JACK: Hold on. Nobody’s payin’ no new nothin’. TOMMY BOY: You got a idea? SCRUB: What is it Jack? JACK: Keep your shirt on. Lemme think this through. BUTTONS: What’s your angle? (LES pushes the other boys away.) SPLASHER: Let’s hear the idea, Jack! LES: Stop crowdin’ him. Let the man work it out. (The NEWSIES back up and watch JACK think.) Hey, Jack, you still thinkin’? RACE: Sure he is. Can’t you smell smoke? DUCKY: I don’t get it. JACK: All right, here’s the deal: if we don’t sell papes, then no one sells papes. Nobody gets to that window till they put the price back where it belongs. DAVEY: You mean like a strike? JACK: You heard Davey. We’re on strike. DAVEY: Hold on. I didn’t say— JACK: We shut down this place like them workers shut down the trolleys. FINCH: And the cops will bust our heads! TOMMY BOY: Half them strikers is laid up with broke bones. JACK: Cops ain’t gonna care about a bunch of kids. Right, Davey? DAVEY: Leave me out of this. I’m just trying to feed my family. JACK: And the rest of us is on playtime? Just because we only make pennies don’t give nobody the right to rub our noses in it. DAVEY: It doesn’t matter. You can’t strike. You’re not a union. JACK: And what if I says we is? DAVEY: There’s a lot of stuff you gotta have in order to be a union. RACKET: Like what? DAVEY: Like membership. JACK: What do you call these guys? DAVEY: And officers. CRUTCHIE: I nominate Jack President! (The NEWSIES cheer their approval.) JACK: Gee, I’m touched. DAVEY: How about a statement of purpose? JACK: Must’a left it in my other pants. RACE: What’s a statement of purpose? DAVEY: A reason for forming the union. JACK: What reason did the trolley workers have? DAVEY: I don’t know. Wages? Work hours? Safety on the job? JACK: Who don’t need that? Bet if your father had a union you wouldn’t be out here sellin’ papes right now. Yeah? DAVEY: Yeah. JACK: So, our union is hereby formed to watch each other’s backs. “Union’d we stand.” Hey, that’s not bad. Somebody write that down. LES: I got a pencil. JACK: Meet our Secretary of State. Now what? 18 DAVEY: If you want to strike, the membership’s gotta vote. JACK: So let’s vote. What do you say, fellas? The choice is yours. Do we roll over and let Pulitzer pick our pockets, or do we strike? NEWSIES: Strike!!!!!! #7- The World Will Know- Jack, Davey, Les, Crutchie, Newsies JACK: You heard the voice of the membership. The Newsies of Lower Manhattan are now officially on strike. What next? CRUTCHIE: Wouldn’t a strike be more effective if someone in charge knew about it? RACE: It would be a pleasure to tell Weasel myself. JACK: Yeah? And who tells Pulitzer? Davey? DAVEY: I don’t know… I guess… (giving in) You do, Mr. President. JACK: That’s right, we do! (To DAVEY, a bit hushed.) What do we tell ‘em? DAVEY: The newspaper owners need to respect your rights as employees. JACK: (Loudly to the group.) Pulitzer and Hearst gotta respect the rights of the workin’ kids of this city. DAVEY:

They can’t just change the rules when they feel like it. JACK: That’s right. We do the work, so we get a say. DAVEY: (finally committing) We’ve got a union. NEWSIES: Yeah! JACK: PULITZER AND HEARST, THEY THINK WE'RE NOTHING'. ARE WE NOTHIN'? NEWSIES: NO! DAVEY: They need to understand that we’re not enslaved to them. We’re free agents. JACK: PULITZER AND HEARST, THEY THINK THEY GOT US. DO THEY GOT US? NEWSIES: NO! DAVEY: We’re a union now – the Newsboys’ Union – and we mean business. JACK: EVEN THOUGH WE AIN'T GOT HATS OR BADGES, WE'RE A UNION JUST BY SAYING SO. AND THE WORLD WILL KNOW. FINCH: What’s to stop some other kids comin’ along to sell our papes? ALBERT: Just let ‘em try! DAVEY: No! We can’t beat up on the other kids. We’re all in this together. JACK: (ignoring DAVEY) WHAT'S IT GONNA TAKE TO STOP THE WAGONS? ARE WE READY? NEWSIES: YEAH! JACK: WHAT'S IT GONNA TAKE TO STOP THE SCABBERS? CAN WE DO IT? NEWSIES: YEAH! JACK: WE'LL DO WHAT WE GOTTA DO UNTIL WE BREAK THE WILL OF MIGHTY BILL AND JOE. NEWSIES: AND THE WORLD WILL KNOW. AND THE JOURNAL TOO. JACK & DAVEY: MISTER HEARST AND PULITZER, HAVE WE GOT NEWS FOR YOU. NEWSIES: SEE, THE WORLD DON'T KNOW, BUT THEY'RE GONNA PAY. JACK & DAVEY: 'STEAD OF HAWKIN' HEADLINES WE'LL BE MAKIN' 'EM TODAY. NEWSIES: AND OUR RANKS WILL GROW, CRUTCHIE: AND WE'LL KICK THEIR REAR! NEWSIES: YEAH! AND THE WORLD WILL KNOW THAT WE BEEN HERE. JACK: WHEN THE CIRCULATION BELL STARTS RINGING, WILL WE HEAR IT? NEWSIES: NO! 19 JACK: WHAT IF THE DELANCEY'S COME OUT SWINGING? WILL WE HEAR IT? NEWSIES: NO! WHEN YA GOT A HUNDRED VOICES SINGING, WHO CAN HEAR A LOUSY WHISTLE BLOW?AND THE WORLD WILL KNOW THAT THIS AIN'T NO GAME, THAT WE GOT A TON OF ROTTEN FRUIT AND PERFECT AIM. SO THEY GAVE THEIR WORD. WELL, IT AIN'T WORTH BEANS. NOW THEY'RE GONNA SEE WHAT "STOP THE PRESSES" REALLY MEANS. AND THE OLD WILL WEEP, AND GO BACK TO SLEEP. AND WE GOT NO CHOICE BUT TO SEE IT THROUGH, RACE: AND WE FOUND OUR VOICE, SPECS: AND I LOST MY SHOE! NEWSIES: AND THE WORLD WILL- (The scene transitions to the gate. JACK climbs up to the chalkboard and writes down “STRIKE” over the other headlines.) NEWSIES: Yeah!! JACK: PULITZER MAY OWN THE WORLD BUT HE DON'T OWN US! NEWSIES: PULITZER MAY OWN THE WORLD BUT HE DON'T OWN US! JACK: PULITZER MAY CRACK THE WHIP BUT HE WON'T WHIP US! NEWSIES: PULTIZER MAY CRACK THE WHIP BUT HE WON'T WHIP US! AND THE WORLD WILL KNOW WE BEEN KEEPIN' SCORE. EITHER THEY GIVES US OUR RIGHTS OR WE GIVES THEM A WAR. WE BEEN DOWN TOO LONG, AND WE PAID OUR DUES. (The NEWSIES make their way to the front door of the World.) CRUTCHIE: AND THE THINGS WE DO TODAY WILL BE TOMORROW'S NEWS. NEWSIES: AND THE DIE IS CAST, AND THE TORCH IS PASSED. NEWSIES GROUP 1: AND A ROAR WILL RISE… NEWSIES GROUP 2: …FROM THE STREETS BELOW, NEWSIES GROUP 1: AND OUR RANKS WILL GROW… NEWSIES GROUP 2: …AND GROW NEWSIES GROUP 1: AND GROW NEWSIES: AND SO THE WORLD WILL FEEL THE FIRE AND FINALLY KNOW! (The NEWSIES open the doors. JACK, DAVEY, and LES enter and the doors close behind them. The NEWSIES wait in anticipation. Then the doors fly open and a GUARD throws JACK, DAVEY, and LES out.) GUARD: And stay out! LES: (yelling back) You can tell Pulitzer that a few days into this strike, he’s gonna be beggin’ for an appointment to see me! You got that? (Doors Slam.) He got it. NEWSIES: PULITZER MAY OWN THE WORLD BUT HE DON'T OWN US! JACK: PULITZER MAY OWN THE WORLD BUT HE DON'T OWN US! NEWSIES: PULITZER MAY CRACK THE WHIP BUT HE WON'T WHIP US! JACK: PULITZER MAY CRACK THE WHIP BUT HE WON'T WHIP US! NEWSIES: SO THE WORLD SAYS "NO!" WELL THE KIDS DO TOO! TRY TO WALK ALL OVER US, WE'LL STOMP ALL OVER YOU! CRUTCHIE: CAN THEY KICK US OUT? TAKE AWAY OUR VOTE? 20 NEWSIES: WILL WE LET 'EM STUFF THIS CROCK OF GARBAGE DOWN OUR THROAT? NO! EVERYDAY WE WAIT IS A DAY WE LOSE! NEWSIES GROUP 1: AND THIS AIN'T FOR FUN! NEWSIES GROUP 2: AND IT AIN'T FOR SHOW! NEWSIES GROUP 1: AND WE'LL FIGHT 'EM TOE NEWSIES GROUP 2: TO TOE NEWSIES GROUP 1: TO TOE! NEWSIES: AND JOE, YOUR WORLD WILL FEEL THE FIRE AND FINALLY, FINALLY KNOW!

SCENE SIX: Jacobi’s Deli & Street, Afternoon (The NEWSIES settle in at their favorite hangout. The proprietor, MS. JACOBI, arrives with a tray of glasses, which he proceeds to hand out.) MS. JACOBI: And here we go... a glass of water for you. And one for you. And one for you. And you. And, ah, who’s the big spender what ordered the seltzer? ALBERT: Over here. MS. JACOBI: And that’ll be two cents. ALBERT: Two cents for a glass of seltzer? Just gimme water. MS. JACOBI: (switching out glasses) How did I ever see that coming? SWISH: Could I get a water too? PEPPER: Oh! Me too! NEWBY: Me too! GUM GUM: Over here as well! MIKE: Just bring another round of waters please. MS. JACOBI: Yeesh. Let me do the dishes to get a few more glasses clean first. (She exits.) DAVEY: (toasting) I’d say we launched our strike in a most auspicious manner. (The NEWSIES try to figure out what DAVEY said.) MUSH: I don’t know about that, but we sure scared the bejeebers outta Weasel! CRUTCHIE: Did you see the Delanceys? PICKLES: They didn’t know which way was up. JACK: (to DAVEY) So, what’s next? DAVEY: Now you have to spread the word. Let the rest of the city’s Newsies know about the strike. JACK: You heard the man. Let’s split up and spread the word. MUSH: I’ll take Harlem. RACE: I got midtown. JO JO: I got the Bronx. BUTTONS: And I got the Bowery. JACK: Specs, you take Queens. Tommy Boy, you take the Eastside. And who wants Brooklyn? (The NEWSIES cringe and look away.) C’mon. Brooklyn. Spot Conlon’s turf. Finch, you tellin’ me you’re scared of Brooklyn? FINCH: I ain’t scared of no turf. But that Spot Conlon got me a little jittery. JACK: Fine. Me and Davey will take Brooklyn. DAVEY: (still struggling) Me? I have to...(KATHERINE enters) KATHERINE: Why’s everyone so scared of Brooklyn? JACK: (smiling) What’re you doin’ here? 21 KATHERINE: Asking a question. Have you got an answer? JACK: Brooklyn is the sixth largest city in the entire world. You got Brooklyn, you hit the mother load. (sidling up to KATHERINE) For someone who works for the New York Sun, you spend an awful lot of time hanging around at the World. So, what’s that about? You followin’ me? KATHERINE: The only thing I’m following is a story. A rag-tag gang of ragamuffins wants to take on the kingmakers of New York. Think you have a chance? JACK: Shouldn’t you be at the ballet? KATHERINE: Question too difficult? I’ll rephrase: will the richest and most powerful men in New York give the time of day to a gang of kids who haven’t got a nickel to their name? CRUCHIE: You don’t gotta be insultin’. I got a nickel. KATHERINE: So I guess you’d say you’re a couple of Davids looking to take on Goliath? DAVEY: We never said that. KATHERINE: You didn’t have to. I did. JACK: I seen a lot of papers in my time and I ain’t never noted no girl reporters writing hard news. KATHERINE: Wake up to the new century. The game’s changing. How about an exclusive interview? JACK: Ain’t your beat entertainment? KATHERINE: This is entertaining... so far. JACK: What’s the last news story you wrote? KATHERINE: What’s the last strike you organized? ROMEO: (pushing his way in) You’re out of your league, Kelly. Methinks the lady needs to handled by a real man. KATHERINE: (waving him off) You thinks wrong, Romeo. ROMEO: How’d she know my name? DAVEY: (to JACK) I say we save any exclusive for a real reporter. KATHERINE: (Almost angry) You see somebody else giving you the time of day? (desperate) Alright, so I’m just busting out of the social pages. But you give me the exclusive, let me run with the story, and I promise you I’ll get you the space. CRUTCHIE: You think we could be in the papes? KATHERINE: Shut down a paper like the World and you’re going to make the front page. JACK: You want a story? Be in front of the circulation gate tomorrow morning and you’ll get one. And bring a camera. You’re gonna wanna snap a picture of dis. (MS. JACOBI comes to shoo the NEWSIES out.) MS. JACOBI: Let’s go, boys, play outside. I gotta set up for dinner. I got payin’ customers need tables. #8-

The World Will Know (Reprise)- Jack, Davey, Les, Newsies FINCH: C’mon. We got Newsies to visit. RACE: You won’t be shooin’ us off when we gets our mugs in the papes! (The NEWSIES exit the deli and head to the street.) NEWSIES: AND THE WORLD WILL KNOW, WE BEEN KEEPIN' SCORE. EITHER THEY GIVES US OUR RIGHTS OR WE GIVES THEM A WAR. WE BEEN DOWN TOO LONG, AND WE PAID OUR DUES. AND THE THINGS WE DO TODAY WILL BE TOMORROW'S NEWS. AND THE DIE IS CAST, AND THE TORCH IS PASSED. NEWSIES GROUP 1: AND A ROAR WILL RISE… 22 NEWSIES GROUP 2: …FROM THE STREETS BELOW, NEWSIES GROUP 1: AND OUR RANKS WILL GROW… NEWSIES GROUP 2: …AND GROW NEWSIES GROUP 1: AND GROW NEWSIES: AND SO THE WORLD WILL FEEL THE FIRE AND FINALLY KNOW! DAVEY: Come on, Les. The folks are waiting. (The Newsies disperse as DAVEY and LES head home. JACK lingers behind with KATHERINE.) KATHERINE: So, what’s your story? Are you selling newspapers to work your way through art school? JACK: Art school? Are you kiddin’ me? (KATHERINE holds up the drawing that JACK did of her.) KATHERINE: But you’re an artist. You’ve got real talent. You should be inside the paper illustrating, not outside hawking it. JACK: Maybe that ain’t what I want. KATHERINE: So tell me what you want. JACK: (shamelessly flirting) Can’t you see it in my eyes? KATHERINE: Have you always been their leader? JACK: I’m a blowhard. Davey’s the brains. KATHERINE: Modesty is not a quality I would have pinned on you. JACK: You got a name? KATHERINE: Katherine... Plumber. JACK: What’s the matter? Ain’t ya sure? KATHERINE: It’s my byline, the name I publish under. Tell me about tomorrow. What are you hoping for? JACK: I’d rather tell you what I’m hoping for tonight. KATHERINE: Mr. Kelly.... JACK: Today we stopped our Newsies from carrying out papes, but the wagons still delivered to the rest of the city. Tomorrow, we stop the wagons. KATHERINE: Are you scared? JACK: Do I look scared? But ask me again in the morning. KATHERINE: (writes down the quite and starts to exit) Good answer. Good night, Mr. Kelly. JACK: Come on, where you runnin’? It ain’t even supper time! #9- Watch What Happens- Katherine KATHERINE: I’ll see you in the morning. And, off the record, good luck. JACK: Hey, Plumber. Write it good. We both got a lot ridin’ on you. (JACK walks off as KATHERINE heads to her office.) SCENE SEVEN: Katherine’s Office (KATHERINE sits down at her desk and begins to write her article) KATHERINE: You heard the man, “Write it good.” Write it good, or it’s back to wheezing your way through the flower show. No pressure. Let’s go. (typing) “Newsies Stop the World.” A little hyperbole never hurt anyone. (typing again) “With all eyes fixed on the trolley strike, there’s another battle brewing in the city...” (pulls paper out of the typewriter and rips it up) ...and if I could just write about it... (puts a fresh piece of paper in the typewriter) Come on, Katherine, the boys are counting on you. Oh, you poor boys.... 23 "WRITE WHAT YOU KNOW" SO THEY SAY, ALL I KNOW IS I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO WRITE OR THE RIGHT WAY TO WRITE IT THIS IS BIG, LADY, DON'T SCREW IT UP THIS IS NOT SOME LITTLE VAUDEVILLE I'M REVIEWING POOR LITTLE KIDS VERSUS RICH GREEDY SOUR PUSSES HA! IT'S A CINCH! IT COULD PRACTICALLY WRITE ITSELF AND LET'S PRAY IT DOES, CAUSE AS I MAY HAVE MENTIONED I HAVE NO CLUE WHAT I'M DOING AM I INSANE? THIS IS WHAT I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR WELL THAT, PLUS THE SCREAMING OF TEN ANGRY EDITORS “A GIRL?” “THAT’S A GIRL! HOW THE HECK?” “IS THAT EVEN LEGAL?” “LOOK, JUST GO AND GET HER!” NOT ONLY THAT, THERE'S A STORY BEHIND THE STORY THOUSANDS OF CHILDREN, EXPLOITED, INVISIBLE SPEAK UP, TAKE A STAND, AND THERE'S SOMEONE TO WRITE ABOUT IT THAT'S HOW THINGS GET BETTER GIVE LIFE'S LITTLE GUYS SOME INK, AND WHEN IT DRIES JUST WATCH WHAT HAPPENS THOSE KIDS WILL LIVE AND BREATHE RIGHT ON THE PAGE AND ONCE THEY'RE CENTER STAGE, YOU WATCH WHAT HAPPENS AND WHO'S THERE WITH HER CAMERA AND HER PEN AS BOYS TURN INTO MEN THEY'LL STORM THE GATES AND THEN JUST WATCH WHAT HAPPENS WHEN THEY DO! KATHERINE: (reads aloud what she’s written)

“A modern day David is poised to take on the rich and powerful Goliath. With the swagger of one twice his age, armed with nothing more than a few nuggets of truth, Jack Kelly stands ready to face the behemoth Pulitzer.” Now that’s how you turn a boy into a legend! PICTURE A HANDSOME, HEROICALLY CHARISMATIC PLAIN SPOKEN, KNOW NOTHING, SKIRT-CHASING, COCKY LITTLE SON OF A LIE DOWN WITH DOGS AND YOU WAKE UP WITH A RAISE AND A PROMOTION SO, HE'S A FLIRT, A COMPLETE EGO MANIAC THE FACT IS HE'S ALSO THE FACE OF THE STRIKE WHAT A FACE, FACE THE FACTS, THAT'S A FACE THAT COULD SAVE US ALL FROM SINKING IN THE OCEAN LIKE SOMEONE SAID, "POWER TENDS TO CORRUPT" AND ABSOLUTE POWER, WAIT! WAIT, CORRUPTS!? ABSOLUTELY, THAT IS GENIUS! BUT GIVE ME SOME TIME, I'LL BE TWICE AS GOOD AS THAT SIX MONTHS FROM NEVER JUST LOOK AROUND AT THE WORLD WE'RE INHERITING AND THINK OF THE ONE WE'LL CREATE THEIR MISTAKE IS THEY GOT OLD, THAT IS NOT A MISTAKE WE'LL BE MAKING NO SIR, WE'LL STAY YOUNG FOREVER! GIVE THOSE KIDS AND ME THE BRAND NEW CENTURY AND WATCH WHAT HAPPENS IT'S DAVID AND GOLIATH, DO OR DIE THE FIGHT IS ON AND I CAN'T WATCH WHAT HAPPENS 24 BUT ALL I KNOW IS NOTHING HAPPENS IF YOU JUST GIVE IN IT CAN'T BE ANY WORSE THAN HOW IT'S BEEN AND IT JUST SO HAPPENS THAT WE JUST MIGHT WIN SO WHATEVER HAPPENS! LET'S BEGIN! (Blackout.) #9A- Watch What Happens (Playoff) SCENE EIGHT: Newsie Square, Next Morning (JACK and the other NEWSIES nervously begin to assemble. As DAVEY and LES arrive, DAVEY pulls JACK aside.) DAVEY: Is anyone else coming? JACK: Don’t got a clue. RACE: Youse seen Spot Conlon, right? What’d he say? JACK: Sure we seen him. DAVEY: Him and about twenty of his gang. LES: And them Brooklyn boys is big. JACK: And I gotta say, Spot was very impressed. Wasn’t he? DAVEY: I’d say. RACE: So they’re with us? DAVEY: That all depends on how you look at it. If you look and see Brooklyn, then they’re with us. JACK: They wanted proof we’re not gonna fold at the first sign of trouble. FINCH: Are we? JACK: We are not! There’s us and Harlem— MUSH: Not so fast, boss. Harlem wants to know what Brooklyn’s gonna do. JACK: How about Queens? SPECS: Queens will be right here backing us up— JACK: Ya see! SPECS: ... as soon as they get the nod from Brooklyn. RACE: I got the same fish-eye in midtown. (The DELANCEYS walk by on their way to work.) MORRIS: Say, Oscar, looks like we got bum information about a strike happenin’ here today. Not that I’m complainin’. My skull bustin’ arm could use a day of rest. (The DELANCYES move on.) LES: Are we doing the right thing? DAVEY: Sure we are. RACE: Maybe we put this off a couple a days? DAVEY: No. We can’t... (desperately to JACK) Say something. Tell them if we back off now they will never listen to us again. #10- Seize The Day- Davey, Jack, Les, Newsies JACK: (to the NEWSIES) We can’t back down now. No matter who does or doesn’t show. Like it or not, now is when we take a stand. FINCH: How’s about we just don’t show for work? That’ll send a message. 25 JACK: They’ll just replace us. They need us to stand our ground. (turns to DAVEY) C’mon, Davey. Tell ‘em. DAVEY: (on the spot, timidly begins a pep talk) NOW IS THE TIME TO SEIZE THE DAY. STARE DOWN THE ODDS AND SEIZE THE DAY. MINUTE BY MINUTE, THAT'S HOW YOU WIN IT. WE WILL FIND A WAY. BUT LET US SEIZE THE DAY. (CRUTCHIE arrives with a rag painted “STRIKE!” hanging from his crutch.) CRUTCHIE: Hey Jack. Look what I made! Good, huh? Strike! RACE: (To Crutchie) That’s great. (To Davey) That’s pitiful. LES: Don’t be so quick to judge. Maybe Pulitzer will it out his window and feel sorry for us. JACK: (call up to chalkboard platform) Hey Specs, any sign of reinforcements? (thumbs down) Davey…? DAVEY: COURAGE CANNOT ERASE OUR FEAR. COURAGE IS WHEN WE FACE OUR FEAR. TELL THOSE WITH POWER, SAFE IN THEIR TOWER, WE WILL NOT OBEY (DAVEY steps up next to JACK as the scene shifts to the distribution window.) DAVEY & JACK: BEHOLD THE BRAVE BATTALION THAT STANDS SIDE BY SIDE, TOO FEW IN NUMBER AND TOO PROUD TO HIDE. THEN SAY TO THE OTHERS WHO DID NOT FOLLOW THROUGH,

"YOU'RE STILL OUR BROTHERS, AND WE WILL FIGHT FOR YOU." (The circulation bell rings. The NEWSIES ignore it.) DAVEY, RACE, JACK & CRUTCHIE: NOW IS THE TIME TO SEIZE THE DAY. STARE DOWN THE ODDS AND SEIZE THE DAY. (Other NEWSIES gradually join in until all are singing.) NEWSIES: ONCE WE'VE BEGUN, IF WE STAND AS ONE, SOMEDAY BECOMES SOMEHOW, AND THE PRAYER BECOMES A VOW, JACK: AND THE STRIKE STARTS HERE AND NOW! (The circulation bell rings again. WIESEL pushes his window open.) WIESEL: The sun is up and the birds is singin’. A beautiful day to crack some heads, ain’t it? Step right up and get your papes. MORRIS: (stepping forward) You workin’ or trespassin’? What’s your pleasure? (EVERYONE tenses. Three SCABS walk on and head toward the circulation window to collect their papers.) DAVEY: Who are they? JACK: Scabs. What do you think? FINCH: If they think they can just waltz in here and take our jobs – CRUTCHIE: We can handle them! (The NEWSIES move menacingly forward as the SCABS collect their papers from the distribution window.) ROMEO: Let’s soak ‘em boys! FINCH: Yeah! Let’s get ‘em! DAVEY: No! We all stand together or we don’t have a chance! (calling for help) Jack! JACK: All right. I know. I hear ya. (Looks to his NEWSIES, then addresses the SCABS.) Listen, fellas… I know somebody put youse up to this. Probably paid ya some extra money too. Yeah? Well, it ain’t right. Pulitzer thinks we’re gutter rats with no respect for nothin’, includin’ each other. Is that who we are? Well, we stab each other in the back and, yeah, that’s who we are. But if we stand together, we change the whole game. 26 And it ain’t just about us. All across this city there are boys and girls who ought to be out playin’ or going to school. Instead they’re slavin’ to support themselves and their folks. Ain’t no crime to bein’ poor, and not a one of us complains if the work we do is hard. All we ask is a square deal. Fellas… for the sake of all the kids in every sweatshop, factory and slaughterhouse in this town, I beg you… throw down your papers and join the strike. LES: Please? SCAB 1: (The SCABS look at each other, and the first steps forward) I’m with ya. (The first SCAB throws down his papers. The NEWSIES surround the two remaining SCABS.) DAVEY: NOW IS THE TIME TO SEIZE THE DAY! NEWSIES: NOW IS THE TIME TO SEIZE THE DAY! DAVEY: ANSWER THE CALL AND DON'T DELAY! NEWSIES: ANSWER THE CALL AND DON'T DELAY! WRONGS WILL BE RIGHTED IF WE'RE UNITED! LET US SEIZE THE DAY! (The second SCAB throws down his papers and joins the NEWSIES. MORRIS DELANCY reaches for the bundle, but JACK stops him.) SCAB 3: You’re kidding, right? SCAB 2: At the end of the day, who are you gonna trust? (to DELANCEYS) Them… (to NEWSIES) or them? (The second SCAB throws his satchel back at WIESEL as the NEWSIES surround SCAB 3.) JACK: NOW LET 'EM HEAR IT LOUD AND CLEAR! NEWSIES: NOW LET 'EM HEAR IT LOUD AND CLEAR! JACK: LIKE IT OR NOT, WE'RE DRAWING NEAR! NEWSIES: LIKE IT OR NOT, WE'RE DRAWING NEAR! PROUD AND DEFIANT, WE'LL SLAY THE GIANT! JUDGMENT DAY IS HERE! (The third SCAB throws down his papers.) SCAB 3: Oh… who cares? Me father’s gonna kill me anyway! (The NEWSIES cheer.) NEWSIES: HOUSTON TO HARLEM, LOOK WHAT'S BEGUN! ONE FOR ALL AND ALL FOR ONE! STRIKE, STRIKE, STRIKE, STRIKE, STRIKE, STRIKE, STRIKE, STRIKE, STRIKE, STRIKE, OH….. STRIKE! (JACK leads the NEWSIES in a triumphant dance. The DELANCEYS break in, punch DAVEY and JACK, and grab LES. The rest of the NEWSIES save LES, chase them off, and celebrate.) NEWSIES: NOW IS THE TIME TO SEIZE THE DAY! THEY'RE GONNA SEE THEY’LL HAVE TO PAY! NOTHING CAN BREAK US NO ONE CAN MAKE US QUIT BEFORE WE'RE DONE! ONE FOR ALL AND ALL FOR ONE FOR ALL AND ALL FOR ONE FOR ALL AND ALL FOR ONE! (KATHERINE arrives with her PHOTOGRAPHER, who shoots a triumphant photo of JACK, DAVEY, LES, and the NEWSIES. The ecstatic NEWSIES toss newspapers all over the square.) #10A- Seize The Day (Tag)- Newsies 27 NEWSIES: NEWSIES FOREVER! SECOND TO NONE! ONE FOR ALL AND ALL FOR… ONE FOR ALL AND ALL FOR…

(The gates swing open to reveal WIESEL, the DELANCEYS, and several GOONS. The NEWSIES stop dead in their tracks. – then a fight ensues.) #11- The Fight WIESEL: Time these kids learned a lesson. (The MEN advance.) JACK: Newsies! Get ‘em! (The NEWSIES run to the wagons and toss bundles of papers at the MEN. The MEN surge forward and the fight is more or less even. Suddenly a POLICEMEN appears and blows his whistle. ROMEO runs excitedly to him.) ROMEO: It’s about time you showed up. They’re slaughtering us— (The POLICEMAN smacks ROMEO to the ground. SNYDER appears.) JACK: Cheese it, fellas! It’s the bulls! (As more POLICEMEN arrive, many NEWSIES take flight. Some are hit, others are snatched up and taken away. The NEWSIES are helpless against the MEN. SNYDER appears.) SYNDER: You can’t run forever, Kelly! (JACK sees SNYDER and starts to make his escape.) CRUTCHIE: Jack? Wait for me! (JACK reaches back for CRUTCHIE, but he is grabbed by OSCAR and MORRIS DELANCEY. JACK continues to run.) OSCAR: (to CRUTCHIE) Where ya think you’re goin’? CRUTCHIE: Jack! Help! Romeo! Albert! Finch! MORRIS: Shut it, Crip. (MORRIS punches CRUTCHIE, knocking him to the ground. SNYDER beats him with his crutch and slaps on handcuffs.) SNYDER: It’s off to The Refuge with you, little man. (to the POLICEMAN) Take him away. (JACK watches as the POLICEMAN drags CRUTCHIE off.) JACK: Crutchie! SNYDER: Jack Kelly! (JACK ducks out of the square and runs to the safety of his rooftop.) SCENE NINE: Rooftop (Papers flutter down on the emptying square under a haunting moon. Lost in the wreckage of the failed protest below, JACK paces, desolate.) #12- Santa Fe- Jack JACK: FOLKS, WE FINALLY GOT OUR HEADLINE "NEWSIES CRUSHED AS BULLS ATTACK" CRUTCHIE'S CALLING ME POOR CRIP'S JUST MOVES TOO SLOW GUYS ARE FIGHTIN', BLEEDIN', FALLIN' THANKS TO GOOD OLE' CAPTAIN JACK CAPTAIN JACK JUST WANTS TO CLOSE HIS EYES AND GO! LET ME GO FAR AWAY SOMEWHERE THEY WON'T EVER FIND ME AND TOMORROW WON’T REMIND ME OF TODAY AND THE CITY’S FINALLY SLEEPIN’ AND THE MOON LOOKS OLD AND GREY 28 I GET ON A TRAIN THAT’S BOUND FOR SANTA FE AND I’M GONEAND I’M DONE NO MORE RUNNING. NO MORE LYING NO MORE FAT OLD MAN DENYING ME MY PAY JUST A MOON SO BIG AND YELLOW, IT TURNS NIGHT RIGHT INTO DAY DREAMS COME TRUE. YEAH THEY DO. IN SANTA FE WHERE DOES IT SAY YOU GOTTA LIVE AND DIE HERE? WHERE DOES IT SAY A GUY CAN’T CATCH A BREAK? WHY SHOULD YOU ONLY TAKE WHAT YOU’RE GIVEN? WHY SHOULD YOU SPEND YOUR WHOLE LIFE LIVING TRAPPED WHERE THERE AIN’T NO FUTURE EVEN AT 17! BREAKING YOUR BACK FOR SOMEONE ELSE’S SAKE! IF THE LIFE DON’T SEEM TO SUIT YOU, HOW ABOUT A CHANGE OF SCENE? FAR FROM THE LOUSY HEADLINES, AND THE DEADLINES IN BETWEEN SANTA FE, MY OLD FRIEND I CAN’T SPEND MY WHOLE LIFE DREAMING THOUGH I KNOW THAT’S ALL I SEEM INCLINED TO DO I AIN’T GETTING ANY YOUNGER AND I WANNA START BRAND NEW I NEED SPACE. AND FRESH AIR LET ‘EM LAUGH IN MY FACE. I DON’T CARE SAVE MY PLACE, I’LL BE THERE JUST BE REAL IS ALL I’M ASKING NOT SOME PAINTING IN MY HEAD CAUSE I’M DEAD IF I CAN’T COUNT ON YOU TODAY I GOT NOTHING IF I AIN’T GOT SANTA FE! (End of Act One.) 29 ACT TWO SCENE ONE: Jacobi’s Deli, Next Morning #12A- Entr’acte (DAVEY and the NEWSIES are quietly ignoring their drinks. MS. JACOB enters.) MS. JACOBI: Drink up, boys. And don’t never say I don’t give you nothing. And before you say water is nothing, just ask a fish in the desert. (MS. JACOBI exits.) FINCH: Why do old people talk? RACE: To prove they’re still alive. (KATHERINE arrives with a newspaper.) KATHERINE: Good morning, gentlemen. Would you get a load of these glum mugs? Can these really be the same boys who made front page of the New York Sun? ROMEO: Front page of what? (The NEWSIES rush towards KATHERINE and snatch the paper.) SALAMI: Lemme see! Lemme see! BUDDY: Look at that!? RACE: Would you lookit? Dat’s me! Dat’s me! JO JO: Front page and you ain’t even dead. TOMMY BOY: There I am! (Pointing to the paper) ROMEO: Where’s me? Where’s me? BUTTONS: Wait till my old man gets a load of dis. I won’t be last in line for the tub tonight.

DAVEY: (to KATHERINE) You got us the pape? KATHERINE: You got yourself in the pape. MUSH: “Newsies Stop the World”- now, there’s a headline even Elmer could sell! ELMER: Hey! SPECS: What else do you got? KATHERINE: Mine’s the only story that ran. Pulitzer declared a blackout on strike news, so even I’m shut down now. I heard they arrested Crutchie. Did they get Jack too? ALBERT: The Delanceys are spreading a story that he took it on the lam, first sight of the cops. LES: (charges ALBERT) Jack don’t run from no fight! ALBERT: Take it down, short-stop. I’m just reportin’ the news. CRISS-CROSS: Where’d he go? SPLASHER: I checked the usual places. No luck. CURLY: Wonder where he ended up? RACE: For jumpin’ Jack’s sake. Can you stow the seriosity long enough to drink in the moment? I’m famous! HENRY: What of it? RACE: Are you stupid or what? You’re famous, the world is your erster? HENRY: Your what? RACE: Your erster! Your erster! Your fancy clam with a pearl inside. HENRY: How much does bein’ famous pay? RACE: Ya don’t need money when you’re famous. They gives ya whatever ya want gratis! HENRY: Such as...? 30 #13- King of New York- Davey, Katherine, Les, Newsies RACE: A PAIR OF NEW SHOES WITH MATCHIN' LACES... ROMEO: A PERMANENT BOX AT THE SHEEPSHEAD RACES... HENRY: PASTRAMI ON RYE WITH A SOUR PICKLE... FINCH: MY PERSONAL PUSS ON A WOODEN NICKLE.. RACE: LOOK AT ME: I'M THE KING OF NEW YORK! SUDDENLY I'M RESPECTABLE, STARING RIGHT AT' CHA, LOUSY WITH STA'CHA. ALBERT: NOBBIN' WITH ALL THE MUCKETY- MUCKS, I'M BLOWING MY DOUGH AND GOIN' DELUXE. RACE: AND THERE I BE! AIN'T I PRETTY? RACE & HENRY: IT'S MY CITY. I'M THE KING OF NEW YORK! JO JO: A SOLID GOLD WATCH WITH A CHAIN TO TWIRL IT... LES: MY VERY OWN BED AND A INDOOR TERLET... MUSH: A BARBERSHOP HAIRCUT THAT COSTS A QUARTER... DAVEY: (indicating KATHERINE) A REGULAR BEAT FOR THE STAR REPORTER! RACE: AM-SCRAY, PUNK, SHE'S THE KING OF NEW YORK! KATHERINE: WHO'D'A THUNK! I'M THE KING OF NEW YORK! NEWSIES: WE WAS SUNK, PALE AND PITIFUL, KATHERINE: BUNCH OF WET NOODLES, KATHERINE & NEWSIES: PULITZER'S POODLES. LES: ALMOST ABOUT TO DROWN IN THE DRINK, BUTTONS: WHEN SHE FISHED US OUT RACE: AND DROWNED US IN INK! KATHERINE: SO LET'S GET DRUNK! NEWSIES: YEAH! KATHERINE: NOT WITH LIQUOR. FAME WORKS QUICKER WHEN YOUR KING OF NEW YORK. NEWSIES: I GOTTA BE EITHER DEAD OR DREAMIN', ' CAUSE LOOK AT THAT PAPE WITH MY FACE BEAMIN'. TOMORROW THEY MAY WRAP FISHES IN IT, BUT I WAS A STAR FOR ONE WHOLE MINUTE! (The NEWSIES and KATHERINE dance in the deli.) KATHERINE AND NEWSIES: LOOK AT ME! I'M THE KING OF NEW YORK! WAIT AND SEE: THIS GONNA MAKE BOTH DELANCEYS PEE IN THEIR PANT-SIES. FLASHPOTS ARE SHOOTIN' BRIGHT AS THE SUN! I'M ONE HIHFALLUTIN' SON-OF-A-GUN! I GUARANTEE: THOUGH I CRAPPED OUT, I AIN'T TAPPED OUT! I'M THE KING OF NEW- 31 FRIENDS MAY FLEE. LET 'EM DITCH 'YA! SNAP ONE PIT'CHA, YOU'RE THE KING OF NEWHISTORY! FRONT PAGE STORY, GUTS AND GLORY, I'M THE KING… OF NEW YORK! #13A- King of New York (Tag) SCENE TWO: The Refuge #14- Letter From The Refuge- Crutchie (In an empty corner, CRUTCHIE is sitting on a bed holding a pencil and paper. A lighted candle sits nearby. Other REFUGE KIDS are sleeping on the floor around him. He reads what he’s written.) CRUTCHIE: “ Dear Jack. Greetings from The Refuge! HOW ARE YOU? I'M OKAY GUESS I WASN'T MUCH HELP YESTERDAY SNYDER SOAKED ME REAL GOOD WITH MY CRUTCH (writes) OH YEAH, JACK? THIS IS CRUTCHIE BY THE WAY (back to reading) THESE HERE GUARDS, THEY IS RUDE THEY SAY "JUMP BOY, YOU JUMP OR YOU'RE SCREWED!" BUT THE FOOD AIN'T SO BAD LEAST SO FAR, 'CAUSE SO FAR, THEY AIN'T BRUNG US NO FOOD! HA, HA I MISS THE ROOFTOP (stops reading, daydreams) SLEEPING RIGHT OUT IN THE OPEN IN YOUR PENTHOUSE IN THE SKY THERE'S A COOL BREEZE BLOWIN' EVEN IN JULY (stops daydreaming, continues reading) ANY WAY, SO GUESS WHAT! THERE'S THIS SECRET ESCAPE PLAN I'VE GOT! TIE A SHEET TO BED, TOSS THE END OUT THE WINDOW CLIMB DOWN AND TAKE OFF LIKE A SHOT! MAYBE THOUGH, NOT TONIGHT I AIN'T SLEPT, AND MY LEG STILL AIN'T RIGHT!

BUT HEY, PULITZER! HE'S GOIN' DOWN! THEN JACK, I WAS THINKING WE MIGHT JUST GO, LIKE YOU WAS SAYIN' (daydreaming again) WHERE IT'S CLEAN AND GREEN AND PRETTY WITH NO BUILDINGS IN YOUR WAY AND YOUR RIDING PALOMINOS, EVERY DAY! ONCE THAT TRAIN MAKES (A KID on the bed kicks CRUTCHIE.) REFUGE KID REGGIE: Shut it crip. CRUTCHIE: Sorry. Ugh. This place (back to reading) I'LL BE FINE. GOOD AS NEW BUT THERE'S ONE THING I NEED YA TO DO 32 ON THE ROOFTOP YOU SAID THAT A FAM'LY LOOKS OUT FOR EACH OTHER SO TELL ALL THE FELLAS FROM ME, TO PROTECT ONE ANOTHER! (pauses, writes) THE END. YOUR FRIEND... (thinks, writes) YOUR BEST FRIEND... (hesitates, then crosses it out, writes) YOUR BROTHER...CRUTCHIE.” SNYDER: (offstage) You in there- pipe down! (CRUTCHIE blows out the candle.). #14A- Letter From the Refuge (Playoff) SCENE THREE: Medda’s Theater (JACK paints a backdrop of the Taos Mountains. It’s almost finished. MEDDA enters in a dressing robe.) MEDDA: Here’s everything I owe you for the first backdrop, plus this one, and even a little something extra just account’a because I’m gonna miss you so. (MEDDA hands JACK an envelope full of money.) JACK: Miss Medda. MEDDA: Jack. JACK: You’re a gem. MEDDA: Just tell me you’re going somewhere and not running away. JACK: Does it matter? MEDDA: When you go somewhere and it turns out not to be the right place, you can always go somewhere else. But you’re running away, nowhere’s ever the right place. (DAVEY finds his way in through the stage flies, excited to see JACK.) DAVEY: How ‘bout lettin’ a pal know you’re alive? MEDDA: I’ll leave you with your friend. (MEDDA exits.) DAVEY: Where’d you go? We couldn’t find you. JACK: Ever think I didn’t wanna be found? DAVEY: (indicating the backdrop) Is that a real place? That Santa Fe? (suddenly remembering, holds out the newspaper) Hey! You see the pape? We’re front page news, above the fold. Oh, yes. Above the fold. JACK: Good for you. DAVEY: Everyone wants to meet the famous Jack Kelly. Even Spot Conlon sent a kid just to say: next even you can count on Brooklyn. How about that? JACK: We got stomped into the ground. DAVEY: They got us this time. I’ll grant you that. But we took round one. And with the press like this our fight is far from over. JACK: Every Newsie who could walk showed up this morning to sell papes like the strike never happened. DAVEY: And I was there with them. If I don’t sell papes, my folks don’t eat. JACK: Save your breath. I get it. It’s hopeless. DAVEY: But then I saw this look on Weasel’s face; he was actually nervous. And I realized this isn’t over. We got them worried. Really worried. And I walked away. Lots of other kids did, too. And that is what you call a beginning. (LES enters, calling to KATHERINE behind him.) LES: There he is, just like I said. JACK: For cryin’ out loud... where’s a fella gotta go to get away from you people? DAVEY: There’s no escapin’ us, pal. We’re inevitable. 33 LES: (to DAVEY) So, what’s the story? Can we have the theater? DAVEY: Pipe down. I didn’t ask yet. LES: What’s the hold up? I need to let my girl know we’ve got a date. DAVEY: Your girl? LES: You heard me. I’ve been swattin’ skirts away all morning. Fame is one intoxicatin’ potion. And this girl, Sally, she’s a plum. JACK: (sees KATHERINE) Word is you wrote a great story. KATHERINE: (tentatively approaches JACK) You look terrible. LES: (studying the painting) Hey, Jack. Where’s that supposed to be? JACK: It’s Santa Fe. KATHERINE: I’ve got to tell you, Jack, this “Go west, young man” routine is getting tired. Evan Horace Greeley moved back to New York. LES: Yes, he did. And then he died. JACK: Ain’t reporters supposed to be non-partisan? KATHERINE: Ask a reporter. Pulitzer’s had me blacklisted from every news desk in town— LES: Can we table the palaver and get back to business? Will Medda let us have the theater? DAVEY: (to JACK) it’s what I been trying to tell you: we want to hold a rally – a citywide meeting where every Newsie gets a say and a vote. And we do it after working hours so no one loses a day’s pay. Smart?

JACK: Smart enough to get you committed to a padded room. KATHERINE: The guy who paints places he’s never seen is calling us crazy? JACK: Want to see a place I seen? How about this? #14B- Jack’s Painting (JACK turns the backdrop around and reveals a large, passionately executed political cartoon of the Newsies being crushed by Pulitzer in Newsie Square. DAVEY, LES, and KATHERINE stare in awe.) JACK: Newsie Square, thanks to my big mouth, filled to overflowing with failure. Kids hurt, others arrested— DAVEY: Lighten up. No one died. JACK: Is that what you’re aiming for? Go on and call me a quitter, call me a coward. No way I’m puttin’ them kids back in danger. DAVEY: We’re doing something that has never been done before. How could that not be dangerous? JACK: Specs brung me a note from Crutchie at The Refuge. I tried to see him. Climbed down the fire escape. But they busted him up so bad he couldn’t even come to the window. What if he don’t make it? You willing to shoulder that for a tenth of a penny a pape? DAVEY: It’s not about pennies. You said it yourself: my family wouldn’t be in the mess we’re in now if my father had a union. This is a fight we have to win. JACK: If I wanted a sermon, I’d show up for church. #15- Watch What Happens (Reprise)- Davey, Jack, Katherine, Les DAVEY: Tell me how quitting does Crutchie does any good? (JACK doesn’t answer him.) Exactly. So... HERE'S HOW IT GOES, ONCE WE WIN AND WE "WILL" BE WINNING, MAKE NO MISTAKE JACK: WE'LL BE WHAT? DAVEY: WE'RE ALREADY WINNING 34 JACK: RIGHT DAVEY: AND WE'LL TELL THEM STRAIGHT OUT THEY LET CRUTCHIE GO OR THEY KEEP GETTING POUNDED JACK: DAVE, WHAT THE HECK? DID THEY BUST UP YOUR BRAINS OR SOMETHIN'? AS I RECALL, DAVE WE ALL GOT OUR BUTTS KICKED, THEY WON. DAVEY: WON THE BATTLE. JACK: OH COME ON DAVEY: JACKIE, THINK ABOUT IT, WE GOT THEM SURRONDED JACK: HERE'S WHAT I THINK, JOE'S A JERK! HE'S A RATTLE SNAKE DAVEY: YOU'RE RIGHT! AND YOU KNOW WHY A SNAKE STARTS TO RATTLE? JACK: NO WHY? DAVEY: ‘CAUSE HE'S SCARED. JACK: SURE. DAVEY: GO AND LOOK IT UP. THE POOR GUY'S HEAD IS SPINNING. WHY WOULD HE SEND FOR THE GOONS, AN ENTIRE ARMY? DOZENS OF GOONS AND COPS, ANDJACK: YOU KNOW YOU MAY BE RIGHT DAVEY: THANK YOU, GOD! JACK: IF HE WASN'T AFRAID - DAVEY: EXACTLY! JACK & DAVEY: HE KNOWS WE'RE WINNING JACK, DAVEY, KATHERINE, AND LES: GET THOSE KIDS TO SEE WE'RE CIRCLING VICTORY AND WATCH WHAT HAPPENS WE'RE DOING SOMETHING NO ONE'S EVEN TRIED AND YES, WE'RE TERRIFIED BUT WATCH WHAT HAPPENS JACK: YOU CAN'T UNDO THE PAST DAVEY: SO JUST MOVE ON DAVEY & KATHERINE: AND STAY ON TRACK LES: STAY ON TRACK JACK, DAVEY, KATHERINE, AND LES: ‘CAUSE HUMPTY DUMPTY IS ABOUT TO CRACK KATHERINE: WE'VE GOT FAITH! DAVEY: WE'VE GOT THE PLAN! LES: AND WE'VE GOT JACK! JACK, DAVEY, KATHERINE, AND LES: SO JUST WATCH WHAT HAPPENS... WE'RE BACK! LES: And I've got a date! #15A- Back to Pulitzer’s Office 35 SCENE FOUR: Pulitzer’s Office & Cellar, Afternoon (The MAYOR, SEITZ, BUNSEN, and PULITZER are in a heated discussion. KATHERINE sits, listening quietly.) MAYOR: ...but I’ve read your editorials, Mr. Pulitzer. How can you express so much sympathy for the trolley workers and yet have none for the Newsies? PULITZER: Because the trolley workers are striking for a fair contract. The Newsies are striking against me! MAYOR: I’d spare you the embarrassment if I could, but Miss Medda’s Theater is private property. BUNSEN: He can’t order a raid without legal cause. PULITZER: Mr. Mayor, would the fact that this rally is organized by an escaped convict be enough to shut it down? MAYOR: An escaped convict? PULITZER: A fugitive from one of your own institutions. A convicted thief, at large, reeking mischief on our law-abiding community. (turns his desk chair around to reveal SNYDER and holds out the newspaper.) Mr. Snyder, which one is he? SNYDER: (pointing to the photo) That one there: Jack Kelly. MAYOR: And how do you know this boy? SNYDER: His is not a pleasant story. He was the first sentenced to my Refuge for loitering and vagrancy,

but his total disregard for authority has made him a frequent visitor. MAYOR: You called him a thief and escaped convict. SNYDER: After his release I caught him myself, red-handed, trafficking stolen food and clothing. He was last sentenced to six months, but the willful ruffian escaped. PULITZER: So you’d be doing the city a service removing this criminal from our streets. MAYOR: If that’s the case, we can take him in quietly and— PULITZER: (exploding) What good would quiet do me??? I want a public example made of him!!! (HANNAH rushes into the office.) HANNAH: Mr. Pulitzer- the boy, Jack Kelly, is here. PULITZER: Here? HANNAH: Just outside. He’s asked to see you. PULITZER: Ask and ye shall be received. Mr. Snyder, if you please. Sit. (PULITZER directs SNYDER to retreat to the shadowy corner and spins KATHERINE in the swivel chair so she’s hidden as well. HANNAH escorts JACK into the room.) HANNAH: Mr. Jack Kelly. JACK: Afternoon, boys... PULITZER: And which Jack Kelly is this? The charismatic union organizer, or the petty thief and escaped convict? JACK: Which one gives us more in common? PULITZER: Impudence is in bad taste when crawling for mercy. JACK: Crawlin’? That’s a laugh, I just dropped by with an invite. Seems a few hundred of your employees are rallying to discuss recent disagreements. I thought it only fair to invite you to state your case straight to the fellas. So what’d’ya say, Joe? Want I should save you a spot on the bill? PULITZER: You are as shameless and disrespectful a creature as I was told. Do you know what I was doing when I was your age, boy? I was fighting in a war. JACK: Yeah? How’d that turn out for ya? PULITZER: It taught me a lesson that shaped my life. You don’t win a war on the battlefield. It’s the 36 headline that crowns the victor. JACK: I’ll keep that in mind when New York wakes up to front-page photos of our rally. PULITZER: Rally till the cows come home. Not a paper in town will publish a word. And if it’s not in the papers, it never happened. JACK: You may run this city, but there are some of us who can’t be bullied. Even some reporters... PULITZER: Such as that young woman who made you yesterday’s news? Talented girl. And beautiful as well, don’t you think? JACK: I’ll tell her you said so. PULITZER: No need. She can hear for herself. Can’t you, darling? Katherine stands up. JACK steps back in surprise.) I trust you know my daughter, Katherine. (lets that sink in) Yes. My daughter. You are probably asking, why the nom de plume and why doesn’t my daughter work for me? Good questions. I offered Katherine a life of wealth and leisure. Instead she chose to pursue a career. And she was showing real promise, until this recent lapse. But you’re done with all of that now, are you, sweetheart? KATHERINE: Jack, I— PULITZER: Don’t trouble the boy with your problems, dearest. Mr. Kelly has a plateful of his own. Wouldn’t you say so, Mr. Snyder? (SNYDER steps into sight.) SNYDER: Hello, Jack. (JACK tries to run for the door, but is stopped by the DELANCYES. He realizes he’s trapped.) PULITZER: Ow! Does anyone else feel a noose tightening? But allow me to offer an alternate scenario: you attend the rally and speak against this hopeless strike, and I’ll see your criminal record expunged and your pockets filled with enough cash to carry you, in a first-class train compartment, from New York to New Mexico and beyond. (to KATHERINE) You did say he wanted to travel west, didn’t you? JACK: There ain’t a person in this room who don’t know you stink. PULITZER: And if they know me, they know I don’t care. Mark my words, boy. Defy me, and I will have you and every one of your friends locked up in The Refuge. I know you’re Mr. Tough Guy, but it’s not right to condemn that little crippled boy to conditions like that. And what about your pal Davey and his baby brother, ripped from their loving family and tossed to the rats? Will they ever be able to thank you enough? #16- The Bottom Line (Reprise)- Pulitzer, Seitz, Bunsen PULITZER: TIME’S RUNNING OUT, KID SO WHAT DO YOU SAY?

COWBOY OR CONVICT, I WIN EITHER WAY! YOUR ABJECT SURRENDER WAS ALWAYS THE BOTTOM LINE! PULITZER: Gentlemen, escort our guest to the cellar so he might reflect in solitude. (The DELANCEYS lead JACK out of the office and into the cellar.) TOO BAD YOU’VE NO JOB, JACK, BUT YOU DID RESIGN TOO BAD YOU’VE NO FAMILY, BUT YOU CAN’T HAVE MINE BE GLAD YOU’RE ALIVE, BOY- I’D SAY THAT’S THE BOTTOM LINE SEITZ: LIKE THE PIED PIPER YOU KNEW WHAT TO PLAY PULITZER: TILL THOSE KIDS ALL BELIEVED YOU WERE RIGHT BUNSEN: LUCKY FOR THEM ALL BUT ONE GOT AWAY PULITZER: THEY MAY NOT BE SO LUCKY TONIGHT The DELANCEYS deposit JACK in a dark space populated with nothing but a printing press.) MORRIS: We been given discretion to handle you as we see fit, so behave. 37 OSCAR: But, just in case, I been polishin’ my favorite brass knuckles. (Morris pulls the dust-covered tarp off of the old press and tosses it to JACK.) MORRIS: You can sleep right here on this old printing press. (slaps the hard surface) Now that there is firm. (OSCAR and MORRIS exit as JACK hopelessly takes in his surroundings. Suddenly, a familiar drumbeat sounds in military style. Voices are heard offstage.) #17- Brooklyn’s Here- Spot, Newsies SPOT: Come on Brooklyn! BROOKLYN NEWSIES: Newsies need our help today! (Newsies need our help today) Tell 'em Brooklyn's on their way! (Tell ‘em Brooklyn’s on their way!) We're from... (Brooklyn!) We are... (Newsies!) We are… (Brooklyn) Newsies! (The scene shifts to the Brooklyn Bridge as a cavalry of BROOKLYN NEWSIES make their way to the rally.) SCENE FIVE: Brooklyn Bridge & Medda’s Theater, Evening BROOKLYN NEWSIES: JUST GOT WORD THAT OUR BUDDIES IS HURTIN', FACIN' TOTAL DISASTER FOR CERTAIN. THAT'S OUR CUE, BOYS: IT'S TIME TO GO SLUMMIN'. HEY MANHATTAN, THE CAVALRY'S COMIN'! BROOKLYN NEWSIES GROUP 1: HAVE NO FEAR! BROOKLYN NEWSIES GROUP 2: YOU KNOW WE GOT YOUR BACK FROM WAY BACK! BROOKLYN NEWSIES GROUP 1: BROOKLYN'S HERE! BROOKLYN NEWSIES GROUP 2: WE'LL GET YOU PAY BACK WITH SOME PAYBACK! BROOKLYN NEWSIES: WE'RE THE BOYS FROM THE BEACHES OF BRIGHTON, PROSPECT PARK AND THE NAVY YARD PIER. STRIKES AIN'T FUN, BUT THEY SURE IS EXCITIN'. LOUD AND CLEAR! BROOKLYN'S HERE! SPOT: BOROUGH WHAT GAVE ME BIRTH, BROOKLYN NEWSIES: FRIENDLIEST PLACE ON EARTH. PAY US A VISIT AND SEE WHAT WE MEAN, AND WHEN YA DO, (WHEN YA DO, WHEN YA DO) WE'LL KICK YA HALFWAY TO QUEENS! (The BROOKLYN NEWSIES arrive at Medda’s Theater. With JACK’s political cartoon of Newsie Square as the backdrop, the theater begins to fill with NEWSIES from all five boroughs, singing and waving banners and placards.) BROOKLYN NEWSIES: NOW THEM SOAKERS IS IN FOR A SOAKIN'. WHAT A SAD WAY TO END A CAREER. THEY'S A JOKE, BUT IF THEY THINKS WE'RE JOKIN'. LOUD AND CLEAR! MANHATTAN NEWSIES: MANHATTAN'S HERE! FLUSHING NEWSIES: FLUSHING'S HERE! RICHMOND NEWSIES: RICHMOND'S HERE! WOODSIDE NEWSIES: WOODSIDE'S HERE! BRONX NEWSIE: SO'S DA BRONX! BROOKLYN NEWSIES: BROOKLYN'S HERE! ALL NEWSIES: LOUD AND CLEAR: WE IS HERE!! 38 (The NEWSIES go crazy. LES is seated with SALLY. SPOT shakes hands with DAVEY in the center of the stage as MEDDA steps forward.) MEDDA: Welcome, Newsies of New York City. Welcome to my theater and your revolution! (CROWD cheers.) DAVEY: Let’s here it for Spot Conlon and Brooklyn! SPOT: Newsies united! Let’s see what Pulitzer has to say to you now. SALLY: Hey Les, where’s Jack? FINCH: Yeah Davey, where is Jack? NEWSIES: Yeah. We want Jack! Where is he? (DAVEY looks to MEDDA for help.) MEDDA: Sorry, kid. No sign of him yet. Looks like you’re doing a solo. NEWSIES: JACK! JACK! JACK! JACK! (DAVEY timidly takes the stage.) DAVEY: Newsies of New York... look at what we’ve done! We’ve got Newsies from every pape and every neighborhood here tonight. Tonight you’re making history. (NEWSIES cheer.) Tonight we declare that we’re just as much a part of the newspaper as any reporter or editor. (The cheers grow louder.) We’re done being treated like kids. From now on they will treat us as equals. (JACK appears from the back of the theater and starts down the aisle.)

JACK: You wanna be talked to like an adult? Then start actin’ like one. Don’t just run your mouth. Make some sense. DAVEY: And here’s Jack! NEWSIES: Jack! Jack! Jack! (JACK climbs up onto the stage as DAVEY heaves a sigh of relief. KATHERINE has arrived and stands in the balcony.) JACK: (quieting the NEWSIES) All right. Pulitzer raised the price of papes without so much as a word to us. That was a lousy thing to do. (The NEWSIES cheer.) So we got made and let ‘em know we ain’t gonna be pushed around. (More cheers.) So we go on strike. Then what happens? Pulitzer lowers the price so’s we’ll go back to work! And a few weeks later he hikes the price back up again, and don’t think he won’t. so what do we do then? And what do we do if he decides to raise his price again after that? (Davey and the NEWSIES look to each other, confused by what JACK is saying.) Fellas, we gotta be realistic. We don’t work, we don’t get paid. How many days can you go without makin’ money? However long, believe me, Pulitzer can go longer. (The NEWSIES boo.) But I have spoken to Mr. Pulitzer and he has given me his word: if we disband the union, he will not raise prices again for two years. He will even put it in writing. (The boos are now drowning out JACK.) I say we take the deal. Go back to work knowing that our price is secure. All we need to do is vote “NO” on the strike. Vote “NO”! (The boos overwhelm JACK. He walks toward the wings, where BUNSEN is waiting with a wad of cash. He holds out the money out and JACK pockets it, looking around guiltily. LES reaches out, but JACK muscles him away and rushes out. The NEWSIES are furious, and their booing echoes across the theater, and the city, as the scene transitions...) SCENE SIX: Rooftop, Night #17A- To The Rooftop (KATHERINE has discovered JACK’s drawings stuffed in an air vent pipe and opens them up. JACK arrives.) KATHERINE: That was some speech you made. JACK: How’d you get here? 39 KATHERINE: Specs showed me. JACK: (snatches his drawings) He say you could go through my stuff? KATHERINE: I saw them rolled up, sticking out of there. I didn’t know what they were. These drawings...? These are drawings of The refuge, aren’t they? (takes the drawings back and studies them closer) is this really what it’s like in there: three boys to a bed, rats everywhere, and vermin? JACK: A little different from where you were raised? KATHERINE: Snyder told my father you were arrested stealing food and clothing. This is why, isn’t it? You stole to feed those boys. (JACK, embarrassed, turns away.) I don’t understand. If you were willing to go to jail for those boys, how could you turn your back on them now? JACK: I don’t think you’re anyone to talk about turning on folks. KATHERINE: I never turned on you or anyone else. JACK: No. You just double crossed us to your father. Your father! KATHERINE: My father has eyes on every corner of this city. He doesn’t need me spying for him. And I never lied I didn’t tell you everything... JACK: If you weren’t a girl you’d be trying to talk with a fist in your mouth. KATHERINE: I said that I worked for the Sun, and I did. I told you my professional name was Plumber, and it is. You never asked my real one. JACK: I wouldn’t think I had to unless I knew I was dealing with a backstabber. KATHERINE: And if I was a boy, you’d be looking at me through one swollen eye. JACK: Don’t let that stop ya. Gimme your best shot. (JACK presents his face to her. KATHERINE, out of nowhere, grabs JACK and kisses him full on the lips. They part. A moment of silence and then JACK tries to get another kiss, but is blocked.) KATHERINE: I need to know you didn’t cave for the money. JACK: I spoke the truth. You win a fight when you got the other fella down eatin’ pavement. You heard your father. No matter how many days we strike, he ain’t givin’ up. I don’t now what else we can do. KATHERINE: Ah. But I do. JACK: Oh, come one... KATHERINE: Really, Jack? Really? Only you can have a good idea? Or is it because I’m a girl? JACK: I didn’t say nothin’...

KATHERINE: This would be a good time to shut up. Being boss doesn’t mean you have all the answers. Just the brains to recognize the right one when you hear it. JACK: I’m listening. KATHERINE: Good for you. The strike was your idea. The rally was Davey’s. and now my plan will take us to the finish line. Deal with it. (KATHERINE takes a piece of paper from her pocket and hands it to him.) JACK: (reading) “The Children’s Crusade”? KATHERINE: (snatches it back and reads) “For the sake of all the kids in every sweatshop, factory, and slaughter house in New York. I beg you...join us.” With those words the strike stopped being just about the Newsies. You challenged our whole generation to stand up and demand a place at the table. JACK: “The Children’s Crusade”??? KATHERINE: Think, Jack, if we publish this- my words with one of your drawings- and if every worker under twenty-one read it and stayed home from work... or better yet, came to Newsie Square- a general city-wide strike! Even my father couldn’t ignore that. JACK: Only one small problem: we got no way to print it. KATHERINE: Come on, there has to be one printing press he doesn’t control. 40 JACK: (suddenly remembering) Oh no. KATHERINE: What? JACK: I know where there’s a printing press that no one would ever think we’d use. KATHERINE: Then why are we still standing here? (KATHERINE starts climbing down the fire escape ladder, but JACK stops her.) JACK: Wait. Stop. What’s this about for you? I don’t mean “The Children’s Crusade.” (indicating the two of them) What’s this about? Am I kiddin’ myself or is there something... KATHERINE: Of course there is. JACK: Well don’t say it like this happens every day! KATHERINE: Oh, Jack... JACK: I’m not an idiot. I know girls like you don’t wind up with guys like me. And I don’t want you promisin’ nothin’ you gotta take back later. But standing here tonight... lookin’ at you... I’m scared tomorrrow’s gonna come and change everything. #18- Something To Believe In- Katherine, Jack JACK: If there was a way I could grab hold of something to make time stop. Just so’s I could keep looking at you. KATHERINE: You snuck up on me, Jack Kelly. I never even saw it coming. JACK: For sure? KATHERINE: For sure. TIL THE MOMENT I FOUND YOU, I THOUGHT I KNEW WHAT LOVE WAS. NOW I'M LEARNING WHAT IS TRUE, THAT LOVE WILL DO WHAT IT DOES. THE WORLD FINDS WAYS TO STING YOU AND THEN ONE DAY, DECIDES TO BRING YOU SOMETHING TO BELIEVE IN FOR EVEN A NIGHT. ONE NIGHT MAY BE FOREVER, BUT THAT'S ALRIGHT, THAT'S ALRIGHT. AND IF YOU'RE GONE TOMORROW, WHAT WAS OURS STILL WILL BE. I HAVE SOMETHING TO BELIEVE IN, NOW THAT I KNOW YOU BELIEVED IN ME. JACK: WE WAS NEVER MEANT TO MEET, AND THEN WE MEET, WHO KNOWS WHY. ONE MORE STRANGER ON THE STREET. JUST SOMEONE SWEET PASSIN' BY. AN ANGEL COME TO SAVE ME, WHO DIDN'T EVEN KNOW SHE GAVE ME SOMETHING TO BELIEVE IN FOR EVEN A DAY. ONE DAY MAY BE FOREVER, BUT THAT'S OKAY, THAT'S OKAY. AND IF I'M GONE TOMORROW, WHAT WAS OURS STILL WILL BE. 41 I HAVE SOMETHING TO BELIEVE IN, NOW THAT I KNOW YOU BELIEVED IN ME. JACK AND KATHERINE: DO YOU KNOW WHAT I BELIEVE IN? LOOK INTO MY EYES AND SEE. (JACK and KATHERINE kiss until JACK pulls away.) JACK: If things were different... KATHERINE: What, if you weren't going to Santa Fe? JACK: And if you weren't an heiress. And if your father wasn't after my head. KATHERINE: (teasing) You're not really scared of my father. JACK: No, but I am pretty scared of you. KATHERINE: Don't be. JACK: AND IF I'M GONE TOMORROW... KATHERINE: WHAT WAS OURS STILL WILL BE. JACK AND KATHERINE: I HAVE SOMETHING TO BELIEVE IN, NOW THAT I KNOW YOU BELIEVED IN ME. JACK: I HAVE SOMETHING TO BELIEVE IN, JACK AND KATHERINE: NOW THAT I KNOW YOU BELIEVED IN ME. (Lights fade as a drumbeat is heard.) SCENE SEVEN: Pulitzer’s Cellar #19- Seize The Day (Reprise)- Newsies (In the semi-darkness, the NEWSIES cross the stage, lanterns in hand, spreading the news to NY CITIZENS in conspiratorial whispers.) NEWSIES: NOW IS THE TIME TO SEIZE THE DAY STARE DOWN THE ODDS AND SEIZE THE DAY

MINUTE BY MINUTE, THAT’S HOW YOU WIN IT. WE WILL FIND A WAY, BUT LET US SEIZE THE DAY. (JACK and KATHERINE enter the cellar. She hands him a ring of keys.) KATHERINE: I’ll get the lights. You get those windows unlocked. JACK: (goes to work undoing the window) You got enough keys here for the entire building. Has someone been picking daddy’s pockets? KATHERINE: The janitor’s been working here since he was eight year sold and hasn’t had a raise in twenty years. He’s with us one-hundred percent. (KATHERINE turns up the lights and uncovers the printing press. DAVEY, RACE, and a few other NEWSIES pour through the window. Two well-dressed kids, BILL and DARCY, go straight to work on the printing press.) JACK: (to DAVEY) You bring enough fellas to keep us covered? DAVEY: We could hold a hoe-down in here and no one would be the wiser. JACK: Good job. DAVEY: It’s good to have you back again. JACK: (apologizing, appreciatively, in his own way) Shut up. KATHERINE: Here she is, boys. Just think, while my father snores blissfully in his bed, we will be using his 42 very own press to bring him down. JACK: Remind me to stay on your good side. (RACE goes to the printing press) RACE: Is this what they print the papes on? DARCY: I can see why they tossed this old girl down to the cellar, but I think she will do the job. KATHERINE: Jack, this is Darcy. He knows just about everything there is to know about printing. JACK: You work for one of the papes? DARCY: My father owns the Trib. JACK: Whoa! KATHERINE: And this is Bill. He’ll be typesetting the article for us. JACK: (being funny) Bill? So I suppose you’re the son of William Randolph Hearst? BILL: And proud to be part of your revolution! JACK: (in awe) Ain’t that somethin’? KATHERINE: In the words of the little one, “Can we table the palaver and get down to business?” DARCY: A little grease and she’ll be good as gold. BILL: Great! Let’s get to work. #20- Once And For All- Jack, Davey, Katherine, Newsies DAVEY: All right. Here’s how it’ll work: as we print the papes, Race, you’ll let the fellas in and they’ll spread them to every workin’ kid in New York. After that…? (RACE takes his position at the window.) JACK: After that it’s up to them. THERE'S CHANGE COMIN' ONCE AND FOR ALL. YOU MAKES THE FRONT PAGE, AND MAN, YOU IS MAJOR NEWS. JACK & DAVEY: TOMORROW THEY'LL SEE WHAT WE ARE, JACK, DAVEY & KATHERINE: AND SURE AS STAR, WE AIN'T COME THIS FAR….TO LOSE! RACE: Here they come! (More NEWSIES take up their positions.) NEWSIES: THIS IS THE STORY WE NEEDED TO WRITE THAT’S BEEN KEPT OUT OF SIGHT, BUT NO MORE! IN A FEW HOURS, BY DAWN'S EARLY LIGHT WE'LL BE READY TO FIGHT US A WAR. THIS TIME WE'RE IN IT TO STAY. TALK ABOUT SEIZING THE DAY! JACK: WRITE IT IN INK OR IN BLOOD, IT'S THE SAME EITHER WAY: THEY'RE GONNA HAVE TO PAY! NEWSIES: SEE OL'MAN PULITZER SNUG IN HIS BED, HE DON'T CARE IF WE'RE DEAD OR ALIVE. THREE SATIN PILLOWS ARE UNDER HIS HEAD WHILE WE'RE BEGGIN' FOR BREAD TO SURVIVE. JOE, YOU CAN STOP COUNTIN' SHEEP. WE'RE GONNA SING YA TO SLEEP. THEN WHILE YA SNOOZE, WE’LL BE LIGHTIN’ A FUSE WITH A PROMISE WE’SE ACHIN’ TO KEEP. (BILL typesets the Newsies Banner.) JACK: ONCE AND FOR ALL, IF THEY DON'T MIND THEIR MANNERS WE'LL BLEED 'EM! NEWSIES: BLEED 'EM! 43 RACE: ONCE AND FOR ALL WE WON'T CARRY NO BANNERS THAT DON'T SPELL NEWSIES: “FREEDOM!" FIN'LLY WE'SE RAISIN' THE STAKES, THIS TIME WHATEVER IT TAKES, THIS TIME THE UNION AWAKES, ONCE AND FOR ALL! (DARCY pulls the first proof from the press and hands it to RACE. He passes it across the NEWSIES to KATHERINE.) KATHERINE: (reading) “In the words of union leader Jack Kelly, ‘We will work with you. We will even work for you. But we will be paid and treated as valuable members of your organizations.’” Riveting stuff, huh? JACK: (to KATHERINE) Get going. You’ve got a very important man to see. KATHERINE: Keep your fingers crossed. JACK: For us, too. (KATHERINE exits. The printing press churns away at a rhythmic pace. Papers are bundled. Bundles are passed between NEWSIES and collected for distribution.) NEWSIES:

THIS IS FOR KIDS SHININ' SHOES ON THE STREET WITH NO SHOES ON THEIR FEET EVERYDAY. THIS IS FOR GUYS SWEATIN' BLOOD IN THE SHOPS WHILE THE BOSSES AND COPS LOOK AWAY. I'M SEEIN' KIDS STANDIN' TALL, GLARING AND RARIN' TO BRAWL, ARMIES OF GUYS WHO ARE SICK OF THE LIES GETTIN' READY TO RISE TO THE CALL! ONCE AND FOR ALL THERE'LL BE BLOOD ON THE WALL IF THEY DOUBT US. THEY THINK THEY'RE RUNNING THIS TOWN BUT THIS TOWN WILL SHUT DOWN WITHOUT US! NEWSIES GROUP 1: TEN THOUSAND KIDS IN THE SQUARE! NEWSIES GROUP 2: TEN THOUSAND KIDS IN THE SQUARE NEWSIES GROUP 1: TEN THOUSAND FISTS IN THE AIR! NEWSIES GROUP 2: TEN THOUSAND FISTS! NEWSIES: JOE YOU IS GONNA PLAY FAIR, ONCE AND FOR ALL! NEWSIES GROUP 1: ONCE AND FOR ALL! NEWSIES GROUP 2: ONCE AND FOR ALL! NEWSIES GROUP 1: ONCE AND FOR ALL! NEWSIES GROUP 2: ONCE AND FOR ALL! NEWSIES GROUP 1: ONCE AND FOR ALL! NEWSIES GROUP 2: ONCE AND FOR ALL! (Ready to hit the streets, the NEWSIES raise their papers in defiance.) NEWSIES: THERE'S CHANGE COMIN' ONCE AND FOR ALL. YOU'RE GETTING TOO OLD, TOO WEAK TO KEEP HOLDIN' ON. A NEW WORLD IS GUNNIN' FOR YOU, AND JOE WE IS TOO, TILL ONCE AND FOR ALL, YOU'RE GONE! DAVEY: ONCE AND FOR ALL! JACK: ONCE AND FOR ALL! DAVEY, RACE, SPOT, MIKE, IKE, & MUSH: ONCE AND FOR ALL! NEWSIES: ONCE AND FOR ALL! (The sun rises as KATHERINE heads to her meeting, the Newsies Banner and JACK’s drawings in hand.) #20A- Once And For All (Playoff) 44 SCENE EIGHT: Pulitzer’s Office, Next Morning (The office is in full panic mode. HANNAH and BUNSEN scramble to answer phones as they continue to ring incessantly. PULITZER sits furiously at his desk.) HANNAH: (into the phone) I’m sorry, Mr. Pulitzer will have to call you back. BUNSEN: I’m sorry, but he’ll have to call you back. HANNAH: (next phone) He can’t talk. He’ll call you back— BUNSEN: I’m sorry, but he’ll— I’m sorry. I’m sorry. PULITZER: Silence those phones!!! (HANNAH and BUNSEN remove the receivers from their cradles.) BUNSEN: The entire city is shut down. No one is working anywhere. And everyone is blaming you. HANNAH: They’re all calling: the Mayor, the publishers, the manufacturers... and such language! (JACK, DAVEY, and SPOT enter merrily, chased by SEITZ.) SEITZ: You can’t just barge in... JACK: (offers up the Newsies Banner to PULITZER) How we doin’ this morning, gents? PULITZER: You’re behind this? We had a deal. JACK: (tosses bribe money on PULITZER’s desk) And it came with a money-back guarantee. And thanks for your lessons on the power of the press. SEITZ: (examining the article) Did you read this boss? These kids put out a pretty good paper. Very convincing. PULITZER: No doubt written by my daughter. JACK: (now reclining in an office chair) I’d sign her before someone else grabs her up. PULITZER: I demand to know who defied my ban on printing strike material! JACK: We’re your loyal employers. SPOT: We’d never take our business elsewhere. SEITZ: (examining the paper) The old printing press in the cellar. PULIZTER: (taking measured steps toward JACK) I made you the offer of a lifetime. Anyone who does not act in his own self-interest is a fool. DAVEY: What’s that make you? This all began because you wanted to sell more papers. But now your circulation is down seventy percent. Why didn’t you just come talk to us? JACK: Guys like Joe don’t talk with nothin’s like us. But a very wise reporter told me a real boss don’t need the answers. Just the smarts to snatch the right one when he hears it. (NEWSIES sing in Newsie Square below Pulitzer’s office.) #20B- Seize The Day (Reprise 2)- Newsies NEWSIES: NOW IS THE TIME TO SEIZE THE DAY STARE DOWN THE ODDS AND SEIZE THE DAY MINUTE BY MINUTE, THAT’S HOW YOU WIN IT WE WILL FIND A WAY. BUT LET US SEIZE THE DAY. HMMMMMM……(The NEWSIES continue to hum as a drum beats steadily.) SPOT: Have a look out there, Mr. Pulitzer. In case you ain’t figured it out, we got you surrounded. JACK: New York is closed for business. Paralyzed. You can’t get a paper or a shoe shine. You can’t send a

message or ride an elevator or cross the Brooklyn Bridge. You can’t even leave your own building. So, what’s your next move? (BUNSEN rushes back into the room in a tizzy.) BUNSEN: Mr. Pulitzer, the Mayor is here along with your daughter and... oh you’re not going to believe 45 who else! (In walk the MAYOR, KATHERINE, MEDDA, and GOVERNOR TEDDY ROOSEVELT.) MAYOR: Good morning, Mr. Pulitzer. I think you know the Governor. PULITZER: Governor Roosevelt? ROOSEVELT: Joseph, Joseph, Joseph. What have you done now? PULITZER: I’m sure when you hear my explanation— ROOSEVELT: Thanks to Miss Medda Larkin bringing your daughter to my office, I already have a thorough grasp of the situation- graphic illustrations included. (brandishes JACK’s drawings) Bully is the expression I usually employ to show approval. But in your case I simply mean bully! (to KATHERINE, referring to JACK) Is this the boy of whom you spoke? KATHERINE: Yes Sir. ROOSEVELT: (to JACK) How are you, son? I’m told we once shared a carriage ride. JACK: Pleasure’s mine, Mr. Governor. ROOSEVELT: (to PULITZER) Well, Joe, don’t just stand there letting those children sing… endlessly. Give them the good news. PULITZER: What good news? ROOSEVELT: That you’ve come to your senses and rolled back your prices. Unless, of course, you want to invite a full state senate investigation into your employment practices. PULITZER: (red with anger) You wouldn’t— ROOSEVELT: After the pressure you wielded to keep me from office? I’d do it with a smile. Come along, Joseph. There’s only one thing worse than a hard heart, and that’s a soft head. (PULITZER growls and postures.) And think of the happiness you’ll bring those children. (to HANNAH) He doesn’t do happiness, does he? HANNAH: (hushed) No sir. PULITZER: (cornered, shifting tactics) Mr. Kelly, if I may speak to you...alone. (The OTHERS withdraw from the room.) ROOSEVELT: (to JACK) Keep your eyes on the stars, and your feet on the ground. You can do this. (ROOSEVELT exits. JACK and PULITZER are alone.) PULITZER: I cannot put the price back where it was. (JACK starts to move away.) I’m sorry, I can’t. There are other considerations— JACK: I get it. You need to save face front of all these folks. I’m young, I ain’t stupid. PULITZER: Thank you for understanding. JACK: But I got constituents with a legitimate gripe. PULITZER: What if I reduce the raise by half and get the others to do the same? It’s a compromise we can all live with. JACK: (he thinks…) But you eat our losses. From now on, any papes we can’t sell, you buy back- full price. PULITZER: That’s never been on the table! What’s to stop Newsies from taking hundreds of papers they can’t sell? My costs will explode! JACK: No Newsie is gonna break his back haulin’ around papes he can’t sell. But if they can take a few more with no risk, they might sell ‘em and your circulation would begin to grow...(mocking PULITZER) “It’s a compromise we can all live with.” PULITZER: (calming considerably) That’s not a bad head you’ve got on your shoulders. JACK: Deal? (JACK spits in his hand and holds it out for PULITZER to shake.) PULITZER: That’s disgusting. JACK: Just the price of doing business. (PULITZER spits in his hand. JACK grabs it and shakes. Deal sealed.) 46 SCENE NINE: Newsie Square #21- Finale Ultimo (Part 1)- Company NEWSIES/BROOKLYN NEWSIES: AND THE WORLD WILL KNOW, WE BEEN KEEPIN’ SCORE EITHER THEY GIVES US OUR RIGHTS OR WE GIVES THEM A WAR WE BEEN DOWN TOO LONG, AND WE PAID OUR DUES AND THE THINGS WE DO TODAY WILL BE TOMORROW’S NEWS. AND THE DIE IS CAST, AND THE TORCH IS PASSED NEWSIES GROUP 1: AND A ROAR WILL RISE… NEWSIES GROUP 2: … FROM THE STREETS BELOW NEWSIES GROUP 1: AND OUR RANKS WILL GROW NEWSIES: AND GROW AND GROW AND GROW AND GROW AND GROW AND…. (JACK, KATHERINE, MEDDA, SPOT, DAVEY, ROOSEVELT, and PULITZER come out to the square. PULITZER, ROOSEVELT, and JACK mount a raised platform to address the CROWD.) JACK: Newsies of New York City... we won!!! (The CROWD cheers. JACK quiets them.) And now I’d like to

introduce my own personal pal, Governor Theodore Roosevelt himself!!! (The CROWD cheers.) ROOSEVELT: (recognizing this historical moment) Each generation must, at the height of its power, step aside and invite the young to share the day. You have laid claim to our world and I believe the future, in your hands, will be bright and prosperous. (to JACK) And your drawings, son, have brought another matter to bear. (signaling offstage) Officers, if you please. (A police whistle sounds. CRUTCHIE appears, blowing the whistle and waiving.) RACE: Hey lookit, Jack. It’s Crutchie! NEWSIES: (ad lib) Crutchie! CRUTCHIE: Hiya, fellas. You miss me? NEWSIES: (ad lib) Yeah. Sure. Ain’t been the same without ya. CRUTCHIE: And lookit what I got yis: straight from The Refuge. (calling offstage) Bring him in, fellas! (Two POLICEMEN enter with SNYDER between them.) RACE: It’s Snyder the Spider! MUSH: He ain’t lookin’ so tough no more, is he? ROOSEVELT: Jack, with these drawings you made an eloquent argument for shutting down The Refuge. Be assured that Mr. Snyder’s abuses will be fully investigated. (to a POLICEMAN) Officer, take him away. CRUTCHIE: (to ROOSEVELT) Please, Your Highness... may I do the honors? (ROOSEVELT gives him the approval. CRUTCHIE slaps handcuffs onto SNYDER.) SNYDER: You’ve got to be joking. CRUTCHIE: And you’ll be laughing all the way to the pen, “little man.” (CRUTCHIE gives SYNDER a kick in the rear.) So long, sucker! JACK: Thank you, Governor. (JACK races down to embrace CRUTCHIE. PULITZER steps forward, snatching JACK’s drawings away from ROOSEVELT.) PULITZER: (to JACK) I can’t help thinking... if one of your drawings convinced the governor to close The Refuge, what might a daily political cartoon do the expose the dealings in our own government back rooms? (to ROOSEVELT) What do you say, Teddy? Care to have this young man’s artistry shine a lantern behind your closed doors? 47 JACK: Don’t sweat it, Gov. With the strike settled, I probably should be hitting the road. (DAVEY and KATHERINE move towards JACK.) DAVEY: Don’t you ever get tired of singing that same old tune? What’s Santa Fe got that New York ain’t? Tarantulas? KATHERINE: Better yet: what’s New York got that Santa Fe ain’t? CRUTCHIE: New York’s got us. And we’re family. PULITZER: (bellowing from above) Didn’t I hear something about a strike being settled? (WIESEL and the DELANCEYS open the distribution window as PULITZER exits.) WIESEL: Papes for the Newsies. Line up, boys. These papes ain’t gonna sell themselves. MEDDA: (exiting with ROOSEVELT) Come along, Governor, and show me that back seat I’ve been hearing so much about. KATHERINE: (teasing JACK) Well don’t just stand there, you’ve got a union to run. Besides, didn’t someone just offer you a pretty exciting job? JACK: Me work for your father? KATHERINE: You already work for my father. JACK: Oh, yeah. KATHERINE: And you’ve got one more ace up your sleeve. JACK: What would that be? KATHERINE: Me. Wherever you go, I’ll be right there by your side. JACK: For sure? KATHERINE: For sure. JACK: DON’T TAKE MUCH TO BE A DREAMER. ALL YOU DO IS CLOSE YOUR EYES. BUT SOME MADE-UP WORLD IS ALL YOU EVER SEE NOW MY EYES IS FINALLY OPEN. AND MY DREAMS, THEY’S AVERAGE SIZE BUT THEY DON’T MUCH MATTER IF YOU AIN’T WITH ME (JACK grabs KATHERINE in an embrace and they kiss.) LES: (pointing to the public display of affection) Guys! (The NEWSIES catcall and whistle their approval.) DAVEY: Well, Jack… you in or you out? (JACK leaves KATHERINE. With a big smile, he approaches WIESEL, slaps his money down on the counter, and snatches up his papes.) #21A-Finale Ultimo (Part 2)- Company COMPANY: WE'LL ALL BE OUT THERE CARRYING THE BANNER MAN TO MAN! WE'RE ALWAYS OUT THERE, SOAKIN' EV'RY SUCKER THAT WE CAN. HERE'S THE HEADLINE: NEWSIES ON A MISSION! KILL THE COMPETITION! SELL THE NEXT EDITION! WE'LL BE OUT THERE CARRYING THE BANNER! SEE US OUT THERE CARRYING THE BANNER! ALWAYS OUT THERE CARRYING THE BANNER! LOOK AT ME: I'M THE KING OF NEW YORK!

SUDDENLY I'M RESPECTABLE, STARIN' RIGHT AT'CHA, LOUSY WITH STA'CHA. GLORY BE! I'M THE KING OF NEW YORK! VICTORY! FRONT PAGE STORY GUTS AND GLORY I’M THE KING…OF NEW YORK! (BOWS.) THE END

[choupichoups]

Press F (Instagram/College AU) Ch.14

Eliott may be all that; rich, handsome, instagram famous— but the basic plebe inside comes out to play when his crush follows him from out of nowhere.

Or: Press F but Eliott’s POV

Parting is such sweet sorrow has gained a whole new meaning as Eliott stands in front of Lucas, bouncing back and forth on his heels in a bid to stall some more before he truly has to go. 

“You really don’t want me to stay with you until Yann comes back?” He finally pushes out the question, brows furrowing in concern despite the reassuring smile Lucas gives him. 

“I’ll be fine, Eliott.” Lucas picks Champ up from the ground when she starts spinning around in place, looking about ready to lay down and have a nap right at their feet. “Go see your mom.”

"I mean... she’ll probably survive one day without eating my dad’s cooking.” he reasons, pouting when Lucas gives him an exasperated look. 

“Bring your mom her rightful lunch, just like you told your dad you would. I don’t want there to be any reason for them to hate me.” 

“That’s impossible, they already love you.”

Lucas pauses, bottom lip caught behind his teeth as he looks up at Eliott uncertainly. “Really?”

Eliott softens, sighing out a quiet, “Really.” His hands move on their own accord, brushing against the line of Lucas’ jaw. He can’t imagine how a single person in this universe could ever be capable of hating Lucas. 

“Really, really?” 

“Really, really.”

“Cool. You really, really have to go now, though.” Lucas laughs, nuzzling into Eliott’s hands like that would help his case. 

“Okay, but if you need me for anything at all, you’ve gotta promise to tell me.” The grip he has on Lucas tightens just a little, firm enough to have his boyfriend tipping his head back to see the resolve in Eliott’s eyes. “I mean it. Anything.” 

Lucas can honestly ask him to do his grocery shopping right here right now and Eliott would undoubtedly agree. Hell, if Lucas tells him that the windows rattling from the wind bothers him, he’d drop everything and run back to him. Eliott has no qualms about the lengths he’d go to protect Lucas, to keep him feeling safe. 

Champ yips, gazing happily up at Eliott as a comfortable silence embraces them otherwise, the sight of Lucas’ precious smile warming the crystallizing fear creeping up on him. The mere prospect of leaving his boyfriend alone for hours until Yann gets back is frankly a no go in Eliott’s books but he understands that Lucas might need some space, and Eliott has his own responsibilities to uphold. 

Fuck if it doesn’t scare him, though. The atrocious start to their weekend has really done a number on him. 

“I promise,” Lucas whispers eventually, leaning up to kiss the beginnings of a frown off of Eliott’s lips. 

Eliott watches him carefully, running a thumb over the shadowed smudge under Lucas’ eyes. He’d waited until Lucas fell asleep first before slipping into dream land himself, but Lucas had already been awake by the time Eliott next opens his eyes— and Eliott is an early riser. He forces himself not to dwell on it, he had been privy to an offhanded comment about Lucas��� complicated relationship with sleep before so maybe this morning is nothing out of the ordinary. 

“Alright, I’ll see you later.” Stooping down for another kiss, Eliott lets this one linger a little longer, breathing in once they pull away and brushing a final kiss to Lucas’ forehead. He peels his hands off of him, squishing Champ’s tiny head in between his palms to make up for how his mind is screaming for him to hold on. “You’ll take care of him for me, right tough girl?” She licks his hands in enthusiastic answer. 

Lucas snorts out a laugh. “You take care, don’t miss your stop or you’ll get back too late.”  

“Yes, sir.” Eliott playfully salutes as he walks backwards, stopping just out of reach before he gestures towards Lucas’ still closed door. “Well? I’m not leaving until you’re inside.”

He’s expecting the eye roll that comes— it’s sweet and fond, familiar. The exact kind Eliott craves to soothe his fraying edges. 

Lucas turns around once he’s inside, grinning at Eliott and blowing an exaggerated kiss in his direction. It’s so ridiculous that Eliott’s laugh is ripped right out of him, loud and startled, echoing in the empty hallways, nipping at the sound of Lucas’ door shutting with a heavy bang. 

All alone, he finds himself despondent, kicking imaginary dirt off the floor as he trudges on with a pathetic pout. There’s no proper way to explain this feeling— they’ve literally almost managed to hole themselves up in Eliott’s apartment the entire weekend. It’s not like Eliott can help it, though, he did just get Lucas back and his needy little melodramatic heart misses his boyfriend for every minute they aren’t together.

He drags himself out of Lucas’ apartment building with visible difficulty, feet shuffling against the rough gravel below his feet all the way through his journey to the bus stop. 

It’s going to take him quite a while to get to his mother’s office without a car. Usually, his father has no problem dropping by himself, but he’d answered a favour for an old coworker out in Lyon and will probably be stuck there until the next morning. 

In a not so shocking turn of events, his mother forgets to take her ready packed lunch to work without his father being present to remind her of it. And obviously that’s an abomination, she can’t go without a homemade lunch Eliott, she’d get so hungry and her brain won’t be as sharp as usual, her work ethic would suffer because of it. Eliott had cut off his papa’s rambling with a groan and a reluctant agreement to bring the goddamn sandwich to its rightful owner just so the guy would stop worrying already. Hopeless romantic runs thick in the blood of the Demauries apparently. 

adam.fk plans today??

idrisomd sleep

abebkhellal oof yeah 

emir.yous buncha boring old men

omarions says you?? didn’t you spend fall break last year learning how to play chess lmao

emir. yous we don’t talk about that

idrisomd shut up emir not everyone is a free bird like you I was editing some stuff and I realized I need that dumb triangle still lol eliott can I borrow yours pls

emir.yous maybe if you don’t procrastinate you’d have more free time I thought you were keeping that triangle??

idrisomd maybe if you shut up you’d get more dates I had to sacrifice it for the greater good

Eliott laughs under his breath, contemplating whether he should add his two cents into the conversation. In the end, he keeps to himself for now, reading through the childish banter that inevitably starts up.

The triangle, huh. He’s glad the bus is mostly empty at present, else the giggling he can’t quite suppress would’ve probably worried some people. Fucking unbelievable, really. It’s ridiculous how it all started, now that he thinks about it. It feels like a lifetime has gone by since then.

Eliott still remembers it, vividly. That moment he set his eyes on Lucas. It’s the week before their new semester officially starts— a Thursday to be specific. He and his friends are scrambling around frantically attempting to maximize their remaining days of freedom to get ahead on his and Idris’ new film project.

“Props.”

“Props?”

“Yeah, we’re missing some props.”

Eliott struggles with the cardboard boxes he’s dragging behind him— they’re saving all the money they can by building the set for filming themselves. The rest of the guys get pulled into the fray, as always, so it’s a bit of a disaster when they’re all going around picking up stray cardboard and styrofoam just in case they need it for later.

“What’s the thing you were talking about earlier?” Abe snaps his fingers, trying to recall everything they need before leaving campus.

Idris jumps. “The triangle!”

“What do we need a triangle for?” Adam asks, fumbling with the styrofoam cups he’s balancing in one hand.

“For that one scene in the forest.”

“There’s a scene in the forest?” Omar pipes up from behind their circle, returning from the storage room where he’d gone to dig out some black garbage bags they can borrow.

“Well, it’s Emir’s backyard but whatever.” Eliott mutters, scratching things off of their checklist. “Can’t we just fake the triangle sounds?”

“Too much effort for a little scene. Don’t you have one at yours?”

“Yeah, but my place is out of the way, it’ll take too much time going there and then to Emir’s.” He shrugs, tapping the pen against his chin. “We can take the one from the theatre.”

Emir gives him a look. “We are not stealing the orchestra’s triangle.”

“Nobody will miss it,” Abe dismisses, already walking off to load their things in his car.

“What if someone tells the director it’s missing?”

“Emir, who would notice a missing triangle?” Idris raises his hands as he talks, incredulous at the question. “When you watch your classic live shows, do you hear anyone go oh, yes, the triangle was on point today? No you don’t, cause nobody gives a fuck about the goddamn triangle, man. Eliott, can you please grab us the triangle so we can get outta here?”

“If we get in trouble, I get plausible deniability,” Emir mumbles defiantly. Eliott snorts, patting Emir on the shoulder on his way out.

The theatre is only a short jog away from the parking lot so Eliott slips through the doors in no time, rooting around backstage for the instrument. He finds the little thing buried underneath a broken flute and a... tambourine?

Single piano notes echo along the walls without warning, and Eliott jumps from his crouch, heart beating fast from shock. He doesn’t run, though, because whoever is out there is obviously not going to spot him if they’re preoccupied with playing the piano.

He’s just about to leave again, grab his stolen goods and sneak his way back out, when the aimless piano notes begin to blend together with effortless flow, a sudden transition tickling his ears so pleasantly that Eliott can’t bring his feet to move along more than two steps at a time. Transfixed, he walks closer to the curtain, curious as to who would play such a beautiful melody so delicately.

Eliott has always wished life would be as easy as the films he's grown up watching— with twists and turns that cause crushing moments, yes, but with the comfort of a happy ending to cushion against the pain through it all. He’s always dreamt of something cliche to happen to him once in his life. Maybe he could win the lottery and live the rest of his life as a billionaire. Maybe he could meet someone so inspiring he’d gain the courage to pack up and explore the world with nothing but a boat and backpack. Maybe he could fall in love at first sight

The boy on the piano is turned sideways but Eliott can clearly see him from where he’s hidden behind the curtain. The smile on his face is plain adorable and the way he’s swinging his feet under the piano (he’s not even using the piano pedals and it still sounds so good) goes straight to Eliott’s heart.

His feet carry him forward, as if entranced, so helplessly drawn into the boy’s gravity—

“Stop,” the boy says, laughing. Eliott stops, startled. “You’re gonna ruin it, Yann,” his angel continues, head swinging to the side where another person who Eliott has apparently not seen is sitting.

The other guy, Yann, laughs too, picking up a violin. “No I swear, I can do it. I took classes once, remember?”

“Yeah, like ten years ago and you quit after two days.”

The two boys giggle at each other and the angel stops playing, attention fully on Yann. There’s a profound affection in the way they interact together, which makes glum little stones fall heavy against the bottom of Eliott’s stomach. 

Jesus, he needs to calm down. He doesn’t even know the boy’s name yet.

His phone vibrates in his pocket and Eliott’s glad he’s forgotten to put the ringer back on. He doesn’t know how he’d explain it if the two boys catch him skulking around backstage.

Eliott runs out of the theatre soon after, remembering how pressed for time he and the guys already are. He tries to put the thought of the boy behind him, making vague hand gestures in lieu of explaining what delayed his return when the guys question him.

He fails miserably.

The bus lurches and Eliott almost drops his phone, fingers grappling for a firm hold on the screen as it slips and slides from the abrupt movement. He still has the group chat with the guys open so the scrabble has him accidentally scrolling up, up, up around a month back.

When he looks down at the screen, he's taken right back to that delightful moment Lucas had unknowingly caused back then.

The doors open and close, one person exiting but a whole crowd entering right after. Eliott presses himself more comfortably into his back seat corner and settles a hand over his mouth, covering the widening grin stretching his lips as he reads through his own moronic words.

Good god, looking back on it now is hilarious, but Eliott will never forget the all consuming panic he’d felt at the time.

Eliott exits out of the chat, frantically scrolling down his barrage of notifications to stare reverently at the one that matters most. 

lucallemant started following you

It’s almost two hours past midnight, with him having just finished up the sketch for the side project he’s working on by himself. He’s been looking forward to falling into bed ages ago but now he’s wide awake, brain swirling with jumbled thoughts and with no hope of falling asleep within the next second.

srodulv when should I? should I wait til later?

adam.fk maybe wait til its not 2 in the morning lmfao

srodulv what if I wait too long and he unfollows

abebkhellal god almighty 😂😂😂 sorry bro no one can help u now

srodulv help me

emir.yous why does it matter? just follow him now

idrisomd he’s probably sleeping so he won’t know you’re a nocturnal beast

srodulv he won’t think that’s lame?

omarions he’ll eventually figure out how lame you are so might as well run with it

srodulv fuck off

idrisomd yeah man you can’t hide lame

emir.yous sorry we can’t help with that

abebkhellal rip

srodulv has left the chat

A bunch of useless hooligans, those guys are. He needs better friends.

His phone pings with more notifications— Idris has added him back in the group chat but Eliott ignores the messages for now, knowing full well that there’d be nothing but more of them poking fun at his current dilemma.

He opens up Lucas’ profile, heart palpitating as his thumb hovers over the follow button. Looking at the boy’s feed brings him the same mix of apprehension and fondness, as always. The latter because he’s an idiot who apparently falls head over heels for snippy little piano players and the former because, well—

I’m sorry, bro. I saw something, I think they’re maybe together? I’m still not a hundred percent on it, though.

Eliott sighs, clicking on Lucas’ latest post, of that guy playing the guitar for him. He scoffs, he can play the guitar too. He can even do the Star Wars theme song. On the guitar and the piano. Lucas needs to see that he’s the better choice over here.  

He lets his screen go dark, closing his eyes as he urges himself to relax. It is quite an ungodly hour to be awake so he drops his phone on the bed, turns over, and hopes that morning comes with a newfound game plan to get the love of his life to love him back.

The good news is that morning does come, but the bad news is that all the plans he comes up with throughout the day are steaming piles of shit. 

“I think I’m in love,” he blurts out, sitting in the basement of Emir’s house. Idris is standing on the couch, trying to cover the ceiling spotlights with printer paper so as to ‘dull’ its luminosity. Adam and Omar are struggling to hold up some desk lamps while Abe holds coloured file folders over the bulb, changing the colour of the lights for the correct ‘ambiance’. Emir is elbow deep in crushed styrofoam pieces.

They all exchange looks of confusion before Abe goes for a hesitant, “Uh... just now?”

Eliott scowls, waving a hand as if they’re so stupid to be unable to read his mind. He gestures to his phone, still open to Lucas’ Instagram page. 

"Oh yeah! Any progress on that front?” Idris hops down, eyes glued to the ceiling as he backs up, slowly as if one wrong move could shake the house so much that his pieces of paper would dislodge themselves. 

“No.” Eliott pouts, flailing his legs in unashamed frustration. 

“Okay, well, have you followed back?” Adam asks, twining some rope around the lamp once they’ve figured out the best angle to go with. 

“No. Shit,” Eliott hisses, sitting upright and immediately hitting the follow button. He’s been so focused on figuring out how to start a conversation with his angel that he’s neglected to think of much else.

One of them sighs, but Eliott doesn’t bother to look up at the sound of it. 

“So what are you gonna do next?” Emir abandons his crumbly work of art, now sitting cross legged across from Eliott. 

“He’s vague posting.” Idris grins, scrolling through his phone. “Ooh, Polaris. When did you even sneak off to take this? That caption though. Much mystery, so cool.” 

“Shut up, it’s an old picture.” Eliott throws a couch cushion at him, then proceeds to slide onto the floor, diving flat on his stomach closer to the guys, as he comes up with the most brilliant idea. “What if I’m not?”

“Huh?” Abe goes to sit on the floor as well.

“What if I’m not cool or mysterious? Would that get him to talk to me?” Eliott’s thumbs are working on overdrive before the words are fully out of his mouth, scrolling down each and every one of Lucas’ photos and hitting like on as many of them as he can manage. 

He looks up just it time to see the dawning realization on Abe’s face. “No!” he screams in horror, reaching out to snatch the phone from Eliott’s hands. “No, you— oh man, you guys, he did a weird thing.” 

“It’s not weird,” Eliott dismisses, trying to retrieve his phone back but every attempt is slapped away by the annoying people he unfortunately calls friends. “It’s called reaching out.”

Idris is cackling, bent over in half as Abe shakes his head in wonder. “That’s kinda genius, though? How very Eliott of you,” Idris gasps out once he’s done wheezing up a lung. 

“He’s getting the Eliott experience way too early in the relationship.” Omar mumbles, curiously going through the rest of Lucas’ older posts. “Aw, cute.” 

Eliott scrambles towards them, wanting to see which post Omar’s referring to despite the fact that he’s seen every single photo twice over. 

His hand slowly creeps up above the phone and double taps on the post.

“Oh my god, someone restrain him.” Adam says, dragging a hand down his face. He sounds like he’s trying his hardest not to laugh which is more than what he can say for the rest of them so Eliott appreciates his effort. 

“Come on, Eli monkey, time to break off from Insta for a bit, hm?” Idris walks forward, still chuckling as he tries to pull Eliott off the ground and away from his stolen phone.

Eliott wraps his arms around Idris’ ankles, almost making the latter fall on his face in the process. “But he’s so beautiful.”

“Yes, yes.”

“His eyelashes are the 8th wonder of the world.”

There’s a collective groan from everyone in the room and then Eliott feels a placating hand patting the top of his bowed head. “Yes, we get it. But you gotta get up now, lover boy. We‘ve got shit to film.”

By the time his stop comes up, Eliott has to squeeze himself past a godawful amount of passengers. He gets it’s break week for a lot of the students but considering it’s a Monday afternoon, Eliott is of the opinion that there really shouldn’t be this many people out and about. 

His mother’s office is a towering structure of reflective glass and one way windows. Eliott pushes at the revolving doors, nods a smile towards the reception desk, and settles into one of the many armchairs in the lounge area. He shoots a message for his mama to come meet him downstairs and doesn’t wait for a response before switching tabs to pull up the film he’s been wanting to see all day. Initially, he’s planned on seeing it with Lucas, knowing that it’s just the right amount of lengthy and boring (for his boyfriend’s taste) to have Lucas cuddling for a nap on his shoulder instead.

But alas, his plans are impeded by none other than his loving parents. Again. He still hasn’t quite forgiven them for poking fun at him being grumpy at brunch after that first night he’d spent with Lucas. 

About ten minutes in, someone walks towards him and sits directly across from Eliott’s armchair, never mind that the entire lounge area is devoid of any other person than the two of them. 

Eliott doesn’t pay it much mind, unmuting his phone speakers just loud enough for him to hear the background music coming from the film— he wants to record the sound and see if that kind of music score would work well for the mini project he’s planning to put up in the future. 

The stranger lets out a faint chuckle but Eliott ignores him, watching the minutes rise on the recording to make sure that he doesn’t miss a single note. Never let it be said that Eliott doesn’t take his films seriously. 

“Fancy seeing you here.”

Violence is never at the forefront of Eliott’s mind. In fact, he thinks it doesn’t solve much, and should be considered as the last resort. But as life would have it, there are always a few exceptions to the rule and unfortunately for his good mood, the sole exception he’s found in his twenty one years of existence has decided that today is the day that Eliott will commit murder. 

Eliott’s eyes flick to where Raphael relaxes back in his seat, legs crossed and fingers delicately twined in his lap— to any outside viewer, he truly looks the perfect representation of an educated, well-bred gentleman. Eliott sees why people are drawn him.

“Fancy isn’t the right word,” he says, just as casual. He pauses the film, music cutting off just in time for him to hear another one of Raphael’s grating chuckles. “Why are you here?” The answer is obvious; pressed slacks and dark suit a dead give away. He remembers Lucas mentioning that Raphael works in a law firm but Eliott needs to hear it, to make sure that fate has really handed this opportunity over on a silver platter. 

Raphael spreads his arms. “I work here,” he answers, smug. “What about you? Someone trying to pin murder on you?”

Funny how he’s asking that, but Eliott doesn’t answer his question. “New York too much for you, huh.” 

Eliott watches the minute narrowing of Raphael’s eyes, taking pleasure in the fact that the guy hasn’t expected Lucas to divulge their story in such detail. 

“New York was great, actually, they offered me a spot there as well but eh, I need to think about it.” Raphael leans forward, elbows on knees as he brings one hand up to rub across his lips, faux thoughtful. “I left a little something behind here.” He looks at Eliott, then, and the latter sees the fabricated warmth in his eyes freeze over, ice cold in barely restrained anger. “I want it back.” 

Don’t mess this up, Eliott reminds himself, fists clenching and unclenching as he reigns in his temper. How he’d love to feel the crunch of Raphael’s nose under his fists right now, but it’s not that kind of battle. Eliott only has one shot to play his cards right. 

“Cut the bullshit,” he responds, surprisingly calm. “Lucas isn’t yours to take back.”

Raphael laughs. “Why, he’s yours now?” 

Yes. “Neither. I’d appreciate it if you stop talking like he’s something to pass around.”

“How chivalrous of you.”

“I’m surprised you know what that means.” Eliott wants to say more, but he grits them back. There are more important things for him to needle out. “What with all the shit you put him through.”

“I didn’t do anything.” Raphael falls back into the cushions once more, infuriatingly unaffected. 

“Do you want an essay or a list?” 

“So quick to believe everything you’re told, are you? Did he cry and look at you with those big blue eyes? He does that all the time to get what he wants.” There’s a strain at the corners of Raphael’s eyes, nonchalant facade slipping down the longer Eliott stares on without a word. “You know there’s no evidence for any of these, right?” 

The quick dismissal of Lucas’ personal recounting almost does it for Eliott. But if Raphael is a master of manipulation then Eliott is of restraint— he won’t let Raphael win. “Yeah? You gonna tell that to the marks on his wrists?” 

Raphael scoffs, “That was an accident. Friday was a big misunderstanding, trust me. It’s called tough love, he likes it.” He smiles, obviously waiting for a reaction from Eliott but the latter maintains an impassive exterior. 

“It’s called assault.” He barely refrains from tagging on a spiteful fuckface at the end of that.

“Whoa there, that’s some heavy accusation you’re dropping!” Raphael laughs, running a hand through his hair. “Do you know who I am?” 

“A sad excuse of a man who takes advantage of vulnerable minors?” 

Raphael clicks his tongue. “You think you’re so perfect, huh?” 

“Far from it.” Eliott shrugs. “But I don’t hurt the people I’m supposed to love.” 

“Well aren’t you just the sweetest.” Sarcasm drips from Raphael’s words. “You think if we both stand here, right in front of Lucas, and make him choose.” He leans forward, a desperate glint in his eyes. “You’re positive he’d choose you? Cause let me tell you, Eliott, that boy is wired for my touch, for my voice, for my own to do as I please, and he will choose me no matter how much I hurt him. He will always come back to me and you can’t do shit about it.” 

Victory feels good when taken by a landslide. Eliott grins, and he sees confusion, frustration, and wariness warp Raphael’s carefully constructed expression into that of something… human. Human, unlike the impenetrable monster Lucas has painted inside his head. Human, who, despite the cunning and intelligence, very much fucks up like everyone else. And oh, has Raphael fucked up big time. 

“My turn,” Eliott says cheerfully, just to mess with the bastard even more. “Do you know who I am?” Slowly, so as to make sure that Raphael catches the movement, Eliott stops the recording on his phone. 

Raphael shoots up from his seat, panic dousing his face red all over before seething rage takes prominence. He hisses out a quiet, “Get rid of that, right fucking now. You don’t want to mess with me.”

Eliott stands, huffing out a small laugh as he notices that they’re of equal height. None of Raphael’s tactics has worked, or will ever work on him. “Nah, it’s the other way around.” 

“Eliott?” 

Georgine Eloise Demaury, part time managing partner of the law firm, part time vicious criminal prosecutor, and full time doting mother, makes a tall, intimidating figure in her navy suit and sky high heels. Her eyes are steel blue as they land on Eliott and Raphael alternatively. The red on her lips is a sharp scowl, striking against the paleness of her skin. 

Eliott presses his lips together, amused at the sight of what he fondly refers to as her working bitch face. She’s forbidden Eliott from visiting her at work too often just because he’s the only one capable of cracking her diabolical attorney persona. He keeps quiet, shrugging innocently when she raises a questioning eyebrow at him.

“Hi, mama.” 

He hears Raphael’s sharp intake of breath and fuck, that feels good.

Her lips twitch the slightest bit. “You two know each other?” 

“Just having a friendly chat,” Eliott says, looking over at Raphael with a tight smile. He relishes the startled loss he sees there. 

“I’m waiting on a call from Mr. Schutt,” Raphael says, rearranging his face, posture straightening under Georgine’s gaze. 

“And you?” She addresses Eliott this time. 

“I brought lunch?” Eliott gestures at his bag on the chair. “Papa got worried you’d starve when you told him you forgot it.” 

She rolls her eyes at her husband’s dramatics. “You didn’t have to come here.”

“Yeah, well, tell that to papa. You’re gonna have to eat it now, I ditched my boyfriend for this.”

“Ah, how’s Lucas? Come up to my office, you didn’t finish telling me how he’s doing last night,” she says, rigid frown compensating for the soft tone in her voice. Across from Eliott, Raphael flinches at the mention of Lucas’ name. “I need to grab something from IT and then I’ll be right there.” 

“Will do.” Eliott smiles, throwing his backpack over one shoulder when his mother walks away. He waits until the click clacking of her heels fade off completely before he turns to face Raphael. “So anyway, I suggest you think very hard about that offer in New York.” 

“You’re insane,” Raphael mutters behind clenched jaws. 

Years ago, that might have stung. Coming from someone else, it might still hurt. But as it is, Eliott revels in it. “You have no idea,” he says, raising his hand for the most condescending pat on the back he’s ever delivered before heading off to the elevators. 

Eliott ends up taking a long nap on his mother’s office couch, tired from interacting with Raphael and his stupid mind games. Sure, he’d come out on top of that one but lengthy confrontations are most definitely not Eliott’s cup of tea. He thinks if Raphael still has the audacity to show his face after that, Eliott will let loose of inhibitions and just start a proper fist fight. 

Recording their conversation had been a gut reaction— he’s not even sure it would help much if push comes to shove. But his mother has quite the terrifying track record and judging from Raphael’s reaction, he knows that too. He almost wishes for Raphael to do something stupid, to trip up the wire on Eliott’s half baked, convoluted plan to take him down permanently. The idea of delving into it scares him a little. He knows shit all about the justice system and Raphael is literally part of the goddamn system. 

Lucas wants to leave it to karma, and maybe he’s right.

But then Eliott remembers the tears streaming nonstop down Lucas’ face, the blank disconnect in his eyes throughout that night. His worn voice begging for Eliott not to let go. The hours spent in bed coaxing for an unresponsive Lucas to sleep just a little, I’m right here. The events of that night have taken permanent residence in his mind, painfully unwanted, but there to stay. 

lucallemant Eliott, I know I said I’d give you all the time you need And I mean it, you can have more right after this  But please, can you pick me up at work? I need you please Please

Call him dramatic all you want, but Eliott’s world comes apart when he reads Lucas’ pleading messages. His vision narrows, the path a blurred vignette, and time slows as if he’s thrown into the fucking matrix. Except there’s nothing exciting or amusing with this development, and his limbs work through honey as he turns and grabs a jacket, shoves his feet into mismatched shoes, and makes a run for it.

It’s not the messages itself that cost him his breath— though those do have him worried out of his mind, unable to even begin guessing as to what would scare Lucas enough to send them. It’s the timestamps that have his heart rattling with unease. The faint chanting of too late too late too late a mournful echo in his head. 

He pays no mind to it when he begins panting, head pounding as the freezing wind bites at him with heavy force, unbothered that he hasn’t eaten much for the past however long. He’s not going to stop until he reaches his destination. 

However, when he gets there, the cafe is dark and empty. You’re too late, the voice is screaming now. Eliott tells it to shut up, paces the area for a bit, and then checks inside the darkened alleyways. It’s empty. He walks the opposite direction, headed towards the parking lot— and there, that’s when he hears the hushed voice speaking.

Eliott swivels around, rushes towards the sound, and doesn’t allow himself to hesitate on the idea that it’s not Lucas trapped in between the wall and that man’s body. 

“Get the fuck off of him.” When he’s close enough, he shoves them apart, fighting against the urge to take Lucas in his arms right away. He has to get rid of the man first. The visceral clutch of anger simmers inside of him, a heat of gargantuan proportions boiling his blood. Eliott imagines this is what one would feel like just before committing a heinous crime.

His interaction with the stranger barely sticks to Eliott’s mind, more focused on the way Lucas presses close to his back. His hands shake with barely constrained fury but he doesn’t move, afraid Lucas will fall if Eliott isn’t there to hold him up. “You can fuck right off or I swear to god.”

The man raises his hands, chuckles ringing malicious as he shakes his head. “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

Eliott doesn’t care for his cryptic bullshit. “Don’t make me repeat myself.” 

His smile is visible in the dark and Eliott’s been around enough of those with questionable morals to pinpoint the lack of kindness in it. “Fine.” He tilts his head as if to catch a final glimpse of Lucas but Eliott tucks Lucas in tight behind him— this guy doesn’t deserve to even look at him. 

When the sound of a car engine fades out, Eliott turns around, engulfing Lucas as best as he can, hoping that his embrace would provide a temporary shelter from it all. He knows it’s impossible, knows he can’t do much on his end other than watch with powerless clarity as painful sobs wrack the small body in his arms. He repeats a litany of apologies into Lucas’ hair. “I have you, I have you.” 

Their walk home is silence in its strangest form. Eliott realizes there’s something wrong, he can feel it at the tips of his fingers but he puts it down to Lucas gathering his thoughts and lets him be. 

“Lucas,” he says as the apartment comes into view. “I know we haven’t… I don’t… listen, can I stay with you for the night? I’ll sleep on the couch, anything, I just want to be there.”

Silence. 

Eliott bites his cheek, fidgeting nervously when Lucas continues to not say anything. He chances a glance at the boy beside him and sees him looking straight ahead, expression blank as if nothing’s been said.

“Thanks,” is all Lucas says once they reach the steps to the building, failing to acknowledge Eliott’s request.  

“Lucas, wait!” 

Unheard, just like the last time. 

There’s something really, really wrong. 

Eliott picks at his head, staring up at what he knows to be the window to Lucas’ apartment. He tells himself he’ll only wait until the lights flicker on, but seconds turn to minutes and the window remains dark. Chest tightening, Eliott changes his mind. He’ll wait until someone goes in or exits the building, will plant himself outside of Lucas’ door— he doesn’t care if Lucas or Yann don’t want to see his face right now, all he wants is to make sure that Lucas stays safe for the rest of the night. 

Except the next person to exit the doors is Lucas himself, Champ cradled in his arms. 

“Why are you not inside?” Eliott is familiar with the feeling of helplessness but it always pertains to his own mind, his own body. He’s rarely ever so taken off guard that he doesn’t know how to make it better for someone else. And yet here he stands, frozen with panic, speechless in the face of the one he loves most. 

Yann isn’t home, Lucas is hard-pressed on buying extra locks for their door, and there’s no way Eliott is letting him back inside the apartment all alone. 

“Lucas,” Eliott reaches out, wants nothing more than to cradle Lucas’ face in between his hands, but he’s afraid of what touching him would do. “Come back to me.” It sounds unsteady even to his own ears and maybe Eliott’s having a little trouble breathing, but he’s more desperate for Lucas to meet his eyes than worry about his next inhale. 

Lucas doesn’t. Come back to Eliott, that is. 

The entire walk up to his apartment, and then the walk back to Eliott’s are both filled with a strained distance that has nothing to do with physical proximity. Eliott’s no longer surprised when Lucas doesn’t answer any of his questions but he keeps firing off either way, hoping against all odds that something would click. But it doesn’t work that way, he knows. He, of all people, should know better. 

He tries again once they’re inside the safety of Eliott’s home. “Lucas, are you with me?” Eliott asks and he’s not. He’s not. 

Running out of options, Eliott’s hand hovers over his mom’s contact info, his dad’s, Idris’, Lucille’s— he just wants someone to tell him what to do. 

In the end he doesn’t get to call anyone, as a loud thud comes from the bathroom where he’d left Lucas and Eliott trips over himself in his rush, crashing into the kitchen counter, banging his arms against the potted plant hanging in the living room. 

But the pain from those clumsy little accidents is nothing compared to the sight of Lucas crying on the floor, blue eyes running red from the force of his tears. “Lucas?”

“Eliott.” His voice is so quiet, so broken that it takes Eliott down to his knees, colliding harshly against the tiled floors as he brings Lucas into the circle of his arms. Tears gather in the corners of Eliott’s eyes but he knows for certain that they’re not from the sting of his fall. 

“Don’t let me go back,” Lucas pleads, breath caught between one word and the other. 

“You’re never going back,” Eliott swears on his life. 

Lucas quiets down after what feels like hours upon hours of tears and stuttering breaths. Eliott knows he isn’t asleep, though— his wet lashes brush softly against the skin of Eliott’s neck for every blink. Left without much option, Eliott detangles their legs and carefully lifts Lucas into his arms, a mustard seed of hope swelling in his chest when Lucas twitches at the movement. There’s a pause as Eliott waits for the boy to protest, grumble for Eliott to put him down, he can walk on his own. 

It doesn’t come, so Eliott goes to tuck him into bed, receives no protest when he quietly dresses Lucas in the clothes he’s brought out. Lucas’ eyes remain downcast the entire time, immovable no matter how many times Eliott brushes a hand through his hair, wipes at the tear tracks smeared on his cheeks. 

Lucas doesn’t sleep until well past two in the morning. Eliott doesn’t sleep at all.

“You okay, honey?” 

His mama looks like a whole different person in private, Eliott’s always marvelled at her ability to switch off just like that. Her eyes are all clear skies and motherly affection, no trace of the savage G.E Demaury to be found as her hands card gently through his hair. 

He wants to tell her so badly, but this is Lucas’ story to share. Involving his parents to ask for help with anything is a foreign concept to Lucas and would make this a bit more complicated, yes, so Eliott will just have to wear patience like it’s going out of style. 

“Yeah,” he croaks out, still groggy from his nap. 

“Do you wanna wait for me to finish up here and I can drive you back?”

“Uh…” Eliott rubs his eyes, forcing his brain to catch up with his mama’s words. He checks his phone before answering, blinking while his eyes adjust to the brightness of his screen.

lucallemant Do you wanna come over for tonight? I know we were just together but It’s fine if you’re gonna be back too late though

He thinks he’s actually physically melting just from reading those. “It’s okay, I have to get going now.” 

srodulv If I didn’t fall asleep I’d be begging you to come over anyway

lucallemant You were asleep at your mom’s work??

srodulv 😂 See you soon  ♥️♥️♥️ ♥️♥️♥️♥️ ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️ ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️ ☹️ ♥️

lucallemant ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️ ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️ ♥️♥️♥️♥️ ♥️♥️♥️ ♥️♥️ ♥️

srodulv 😊 ♥️

He stops to get some take out on the way, knowing Yann will be there and would most likely not be so chummy with Eliott after the whole thing from the past few weeks. He figures he can extend a truce through food— the way to a man’s heart and all. 

When he knocks on Lucas’ door, he hears a couple of thuds, some rapid, illegible whispering, and then the door finally opens only for Lucas to catapult himself into Eliott’s arms. The door slams shut behind him and Eliott might just be seeing things but he’s pretty sure that’s a glimpse of Yann’s unimpressed form standing on the other side of the door. 

“Hi,” Lucas breathes out, one arm slung around Eliott’s neck while the other is bent awkwardly behind him, holding onto the wriggling doorknob as if to keep a ravenous beast from escaping.

Uh oh.  

“Hi,” Eliott greets back. “On a scale of Champ to Jurassic Park, how scared should I be of Yann right now?” 

Lucas bites his lip and Eliott can’t help it— he kisses him before Lucas can respond. He means for it to be a chaste touch, but Lucas lets go of the knob (thankfully no longer rattling) and throws both arms around Eliott, pressing closer and opening his lips to deepen the kiss. Eliott lets himself indulge in it but is quickly brought back to reality when he tries to wrap both arms around Lucas only for the take out bag to hit Lucas’ ass with a dull thunk.

“Ow, what the fuck.” Lucas pulls away, spinning on the spot as he looks for the offender.

“Sorry,” Eliott laughs, lifting the bag. “I bought food. Peace offering.” 

“Oh my god, you’re so smart,” Lucas says, sounding genuinely pleased. “I apologize in advance though, he thinks he’s my dad sometimes.” 

“Damn right!” Yann shouts from behind the door. 

“Jesus.” Lucas mutters under his breath. “You ready?” 

Eliott nods, rehearsing the quick speech he’d made up in his head during the ride back to Lucas’ place. All that preparation’s for nothing, however, when all Yann does is look at him when the door finally opens. He looks at Eliott like he’d done weeks ago, when Eliott had taken Lucas home after the encounter with his father, unspoken understanding passing between the two of them as easy as that.

I technically have no right to be mad but I am, Yann’s usually kind eyes are hardened earth. There’ll be hell to pay if you pull that shit again, the look in them all but screams mistrust. 

Eliott nods, hoping Yann also understands his most sincere but wordless response— never again. 

The stare off probably only lasts a few seconds but to Eliott, it feels like an eternity before Yann’s eyes start to squint, one hand reaching for the take out bag that Eliott has stuck in the space between the two of them. Slowly, Yann takes a hold of it, snatches the bag from Eliott’s grip, and sniffs into it. He’s still squinting at Eliott as he walks backwards to take the food inside the kitchen.

“Okay, weird but blessedly silent. I’ll take it,” Lucas huffs, taking Eliott’s hand and dragging him past the living room and into the little hallway. Belatedly, Eliott realizes that they’re headed straight for the bedroom, Lucas marching them towards the door like a man on a mission. 

“Don’t you wanna eat?” Eliott asks, pulling back to slow Lucas down. “I bought that for you too.” 

“Later, I just,” Lucas pauses, his door already wide open once they reach it. “I have to ask you something.” 

Well that doesn’t sound foreboding at all. Eliott clears his throat. “Okay.” 

They arrange themselves on the foot of the bed, legs crossed and facing each other. When Lucas starts fidgeting, Eliott reaches over to intertwine their fingers together. 

“I know we joked about it before… or more like just yesterday actually… but uh,” Lucas starts, looking around the room to avoid meeting Eliott’s eyes head on. “So Marie’s home now and I’m taking Champ back to her on Thursday.”

“Okay,” Eliott says, smiling when Lucas discreetly looks at him from the corner of his eyes. 

“Okay, um.” Lucas takes a deep breath and spills the rest out on a long exhale. “My mom will be there too and I was wondering if you’d like to come?” He’s wincing by the time the question ends and Eliott, endeared, can only stare. “Maybe? You don’t have to. I understand if it’s too early or whatever—”

Eliott brings their tangled hands up to his lips and rains down kisses to the back of Lucas’ palms until he shuts up. 

“I’ll come,” he says, and then after a short silence continues with, “I’d love to.” 

Lucas’ relief is palpable. 

“Okay. That’s… that’s good.” 

“You’re cute when you’re all nervous like this,” Eliott teases, wanting to see Lucas’ smile. Sure, it’s only been a couple of minutes since he’s last seen it but Eliott’s one greedy motherfucker when comes to Lucas. 

“What?” The corner of Lucas’ lips tilts up, but it’s not quite the smile Eliott’s looking for.

“You’re all nice and cute when you’re nervous. No room for snarking or swearing at me.”

“Shut up.”

“Ah, it was good while it lasted.”

“Shut up!” Lucas laughs, kicking at Eliott’s knee.

“Oh you’re kicking me now too, my god, such violence from a tiny human.”

“You’re so dumb.” Lucas pushes at his shoulder and Eliott goes down easily, but not before winding an arm around Lucas so that his boyfriend falls on top of him in their descent. “Such an idiot.”

“Your idiot,” Eliott retorts as cheesily as can be, grinning when Lucas laughs again, eyes scrunched and mouth open. 

“God, do you ever shut up?” 

“Yeah, there’s one way to shut me up.” 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, you’re really good at it.”

Lucas leans down and Eliott feels the smile on his lips. The kisses start off as innocent pecks, short and dry, until Lucas brushes their noses together and teases the tip of his tongue in between Eliott’s slightly parted lips. 

Eliott surges up then, locking their lips together as he moves, sitting upright with his arms still secured around Lucas. His boyfriend goes along with it, easily shuffling around so that he’s sat comfortably on Eliott’s lap, hands slightly cold against the back of Eliott’s neck, but the latter doesn’t mind— Lucas’ mouth is scorching enough to make up for it. 

His jacket gets tossed to the floor at some point and his hands wander inside Lucas’ hoodie, searching for the warmth of his skin under, encouraged by the way Lucas tightens his arms around Eliott’s shoulders when he runs a hand from the nape of Lucas’ neck down to the dip low on his back. The intensity reminds him of their first time— only slightly, because Eliott doesn’t think anything could come close to that night. But he recalls the warm weight of Lucas on his lap, against the wall, over him, under him. Recalls the way he’d jokingly asked Lucas how many fingers he’s holding up. How Lucas had very non jokingly slipped the two fingers in his mouth and licked around them until Eliott lost his mind.

The memory of it has heat rushing up and down Eliott’s body in frantic jolts, melting away his higher functions until he finally flips them over, gently laying Lucas down below him just like he’s always done. His fingers lightly dance along the line of Lucas' jeans and the latter lets him, Lucas’ hands exploring the wide expanse of Eliott’s back under his shirt. 

And that’s something new— not Lucas touching him no, but rather the confidence he exudes in bed. Eliott doesn’t think he’d ever forget the shakiness of Lucas’ breath, the furious drumming of his pulse, the flinches he’s tried so hard to cover up. Eliott’s noticed every single one of them, often pausing to suggest for them to stop only for Lucas to hold him by the sides of his face and mutter a determined, keep going.

Back then he couldn’t figure out if there’s a story behind it, or if Lucas is only nervous about being intimate with someone else. Now that he knows, can extrapolate the details from what Lucas has told him so far, Eliott’s heart is close to bursting with the realization of how much trust Lucas has placed in his hands that very first time. Of how much trust he continues to have in Eliott despite all that’s happened. 

I love you, his touch speaks, lingering and light over the smooth skin of Lucas’ waist.

I love you, his eyes repeat, insistent, hopeless, as they meet Lucas’ wide, adoring gaze.

I love you, his mouth whispers, soundless against the brush of Lucas’ lips, plush softness falling open under the gentle touch of Eliott’s tongue.

I love you, he wants to say, out loud, with all his anxious, fragile heart but what comes out instead is a nearly inaudible, “You’re so beautiful.” 

Maybe someday, he’ll be able to speak as it is. Someday, he’ll work up the courage to stop hiding behind soft touches and pretty words. But as Eliott opens his eyes on a slow blink, he looks down at Lucas and catches the most tender of smiles directed up at him. Maybe words aren’t needed right now. For Lucas, in this moment, maybe Eliott is enough. 

“No, you,” Lucas retorts childishly, arching up to press a giggle into Eliott’s amused smile. 

“This is a losing battle, baby.” Eliott nuzzles his cheeks, nose instinctively wrinkling when Lucas kisses the tip of it. The sweltering heat has cooled between them, replaced by a softer kind of warmth.

“Yeah, your losing battle,” Lucas says, trying to shift from under Eliott’s weight. “Baby,” he adds in a whisper, smile cheeky when Eliott’s head snaps up to look at him. He sputters, unfairly flustered at hearing Lucas use that pet name, any pet name in fact, for the first time—

“Are you being a brat?” Eliott tries to keep his voice stern, but he’s pretty sure his eyes give it away as Lucas dissolves into helpless giggles. “Are you being a brat?” he repeats a little louder, hands splayed widely over Lucas’ sides, curling up where his boyfriend is most ticklish.

“No!” But it’s too late, Eliott’s already found his weakest spots and proceeds with the attack, relentless despite Lucas’ half formed begging in between his laughter. “Eliott, no! Wait!” he squeaks, turning red when one of Eliott’s hands slide up to tickle at his neck. 

Eliott only stops when Lucas, breathless and teary-eyed, pouts pitifully up at him. Honestly, what human being with a heart could resist that? So he leans down and brings the jut of Lucas’ bottom lip in between his teeth, waiting until his boyfriend opens his mouth on a groan before diving in for a kiss. Lucas’ hands immediately tangle themselves into Eliott’s hair, legs pulling up to wrap around him as if Eliott has any batshit plans of leaving the bed any time soon. Eliott’s shirt is halfway off his back when Lucas’ door creaks open.

They barely let up, both expecting to see Yann coming to interrupt them for whatever reason but the entry way is empty. 

“What—” 

Soft, fast-paced panting is their answer and Eliott’s completely unprepared for when Lucas shoves him off the bed with all his might— Eliott hangs onto the sheets to keep from cracking his head open.

“Oh shit, sorry!” Lucas shouts, dragging Eliott back up to the center of the bed. “I just— Champ’s just a baby, she can’t see that!” 

Eliott doesn’t know whether to agree or laugh. He figures responding with a deadpan she’s just a dog won’t go over too well with Lucas so he keeps that thought to himself. With a sigh, Eliott smooths down his shirt and walks over to where Champ is still panting happily up at them. 

“Are you happy now?” He asks the dog, crouching closer to her level and tapping her tiny nose with a finger. He carries her in his arms on his way out to the living room, turning back to see Lucas attempting to fix his hair as if Yann doesn’t already know what they’ve been up to, alone in the room for at least half an hour. “Come on, baby, let’s keep Yann company before he decides to take back my rights.” 

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

So, I learned something recently...

Mary Kate Olsen (the top billed twin; I feel kinda bad for Ashley) is married to a man 17 years her senior, who also happens to be the half brother to the former President of France.

That sounds like the plot to one of their movies! Like, there’s a foreign exchange student at their school and they discover that he’s secretly foreign royalty.  I can picture the whole thing in my head, I’ve thought about this a lot:

It has a late 90s/early 2000s aesthetic; kinda grungey and “totally radical, dude!”

Twins Mary Jane and Kelsey are just your average upper middle class teenagers living in multi-million dollar beachfront property with their widower dad, a security guard with dreams of being a detective.  His firm just got a big contract to provide security for the visiting diplomats of the vaguely Eastern European kingdom of Slovotia (it’s generically foreign; funny accents, weird customs, offensive Slavic stereotypes, the works. The writers based it on Yugoslavia, Czechoslovakia, Austria-Hungary, Ruritania, Backwardistan, etc)

At school, the girls are introduced to hunky Slovotian exchange student Nico.  He’s, like, SO cool, but he doesn’t flaunt it.  He’s quiet, tries not to make waves, and sneaks away at lunch to be by himself; the girls follow him and find him talking to a a burly bodyguard.  Turns out, he’s the Crown Prince of Slovotia!  His uncle, Count Bartok (who is clearly the antagonist but SHHH don’t tell anyone, we don’t know that yet) is visiting America as part of the Slovotian delegation; his brother, the King, wants to normalize relations with the west, but the Count doesn’t really like America.

Nico and his bodyguard Dolf (a hulking man of few words) ask the girls not to reveal his secret; he just wants to live a normal life, and be a normal teenager.  The girls decide to show him around town and introduce him to hip American concepts like the mall and beaches and fast food.

They buy a hot dog from a street vendor, and Nico looks appalled.  “My uncle, he say Americans, they are dogs, but I did not know they were to be eating them, yes?”

“They’re not really made out of dog, Nico!  Try it, you’ll like it.”

He takes one bite, and is enraptured.  “This is best thing I have ever to be eating!”  He walks over to the vendor and offers to buy him out.  “You there, meat monger. This dog that is hot, it is food fit for king!  I buy your shop, I pay ten million Slovotian Kronle, good price yes?”

“Sure thing, whatever you say boss!  Good price!  Great price!  My ticket’s finally come it, it’s easy street from here on out!”

They show him around “the city.”  It’s never specified which city that is though; they live on a beach and go surfing, so it might be LA, but there are hotdog vendors and people with Brooklyn accents, so it could just as well be New York.  Maybe there’s a shot in the middle of the film where the bad guys are looking at a satellite map of the USA, and the camera zooms into the center of the country, or there’s a blinking red dot somewhere on a random coast.  The point is that there is no definitive location; it’s just meant to represent whatever city is closest to the viewer’s hometown (the writers didn’t put that much effort into it because this is a no budget direct-to-VHS Mary Kate and Ashley movie.  What did you expect?)

Dolf follows them everywhere they go, and Nico complains that he wants to have some privacy.  “You do not be seeing other kids with bodyguards, yes?”  Wacky hijinks ensue as the trio try to evade him; there’s definitely a chase scene set to a punk rock song like SR-17′s ‘Right Now’ or something by Bowling For Soup.  They sit on a park bench reading newspapers as Dolf runs by, then hightail it in the opposite direction.  They casually steal hats and sunglasses from passersby to blend into the crowd.  They walk in line behind a couple buys carrying a sofa.  The chase ends with them hopping into a taxi and laughing with one another as we see Dolf give chase for a second before giving up in frustration.

Nico confides in the girls that life as a prince is not easy.  His father, King Vladimyr XVI, is always telling him how big a responsibility he has, how important he is to Slovotia’s future.  “My father, he tell me, Nico, you will one day be King, so you must to be acting like one, yes?”  It’s so hard to be royal, he can never just be himself, he has to act a certain way to make his parents happy.  The girls tell him that they know exactly what he means; high school isn’t all it’s cracked up to be either.  They have homework and chores, and they too have to act a certain way or the cool kids will think they’re a couple of losers with a capital L (Nico doesn’t understand what the word cool means, “what does temperature have to be doing with this?”)

Suddenly, the trio is attacked by some dude in a track suit and gold chains with a jersey accent; he tries to kidnap Nico, and just when all hope seems lost Dolf appears from nowhere and lifts the would-be abductor up by the collar.

They interrogate him; Dolf holds him by the ankles from a second story window.  “I ain’t sayins nothin, youse will never get a word outta me.”

Dolf says that if he doesn’t start talking he will disappear.  “Maybe you wake up in gulag, yes?”

He sings like a canary.  He was hired by Count Bartok to kidnap Nico.  Bartok hates America and thinks his older brother Vladimyr is foolish for trying to normalize relations with them.  He hoped that by having Nico kidnapped, he could blame the American government and end the diplomatic mission early.  If anything were to happen to the boy, Bartok would become next in line to be king!  He’s going to blame the girls’ father for Nico’s disappearance because he was supposed to be head of security.

“That’s everything I know. Hey, I’m sorry, okays?  I just needed the money, ya know? I ain’t a bad guy, I’m just in a bad sitchy-ation.”  The girls tell Dolf that he can let the kidnapper go, but he takes this literally and drops him out of the window (onto a bush! He’s fine)

They have to race to city hall to meet the Slovotian delegation and stop Bartok from doing anything drastic.  Mary Kate plays the edgy tomboy, so she teaches Nico and Dolf how to skateboard so they can get across town super fast.  This sequence is filmed with a fish eye lens so it looks “totally bodacious.” As the group barrels down the crowded sidewalk, pedestrians leap out of their way.

They make it just in time to be locked out of the ceremony.  Bartok is giving a big speech condemning the Americans for kidnapping his poor nephew, and the girls have to watch helplessly as their dad is taken away in handcuffs.  Dolf uses his espionage training to break into city hall and get the trio into the sound booth undetected.

“Hey Dolf, where’d you learn to do all this stuff?”

“I have many skills” (he is implied to be ex-KGB and it’s played for laughs)

The girls interrupt Bartok’s speech with video they took of the kidnapper revealing his entire plan.  Bartok denies it, but the girls’ dad pulls some as-yet-unseen sleuthing skills out of his ass to prove that Bartok is lying, finally living his dream of being a detective.  Nico bursts into the room and orders the Slovotian guards to arrest his uncle, but Bartok pulls a pistol and holds one of the twins hostage.  Nico uses some of the American skills he learned to free her (he kicks his skateboard towards Bartok’s feet, and he slips on it)

Bartok is taken away, screaming that he would have gotten away with it were it not for those meddling twins, and the girls break the fourth wall by making a Scooby-Doo joke to the camera.  Nico delivers a heartfelt speech to the gathered crowd at city hall about how much he has come to love America and how he’s proud to be representing Slovotia and normalizing relations with the west.  He wants to open malls and hot dog stands and skateboard parks in Slovotia, and he gets a standing ovation as the mayor awards him the key to the city.

The girls are so proud of their dad, and he is just as proud of them.  Just then, King Vladimyr and Queen Anastasia themselves make a live appearance, apparently having flown all the way from Slovotia (it’s never explained how they got there so fast).  They thank the girls for helping their son, and award their father their kingdom’s highest honor. They even offer him a job as Dolf’s second in command, but he declines, saying he’d rather remain at his humble career and raise his family in the states.

The girls encourage Nico to tell his father how he feels.  He knows he will be king someday, but that is very far off, and he would like some time to just be a kid instead of a prince all the time.  The King decrees that Nico may stay in the United States and have a normal high school experience, “you are to be having twelve bodyguards instead of twenty now, good compromise, yes?”  The girls roll their eyes and laugh; Nico’s dad still has a lot to learn!

Nico tells the girls that they are “very cold” (he meant “cool,” but it’s the thought that counts)  He and Mary Kate kiss, and Ashley jokingly asks if he has a brother.  As it turns out, there’s a nerdy kid at school who is played by the same actor as Nico who’s had a crush on her for years, so she gets with him instead (once he takes off his glasses)

Freeze frame

THE END

Roll credits

80 minute run time

Return the tape to Blockbuster and never watch it again

[kyungsue-sm]

Seventeen/Haikyuu! AU

New series I’m going to try! I’m working on all the members, but here’s the leader unit! Lemme know if you like this! (Sorry it’s kinda short...still new to writing..)

WOOZI: Libero

-just bc he’s SMOL doesn’t mean he can’t play a huge role on the SVT Volleyball team! He is the reason their defense is spot-on

-He isn’t afraid to try new things, and he usually is the one who creates new plays that enhances their teamwork the fullest

-comes off cold in life, but once he’s on the court his love for the game and his teammates is clear

-t h i c c

-hates when he messes up a receive with a PASSION. If their up against a team with an opposite spiker, you can bet your ass he’ll get the hang of it in two tries

-has a MASSIVE crush on the Ace. He���s too afraid to tell him, so he just acts like he hates him, when secretly he just wants to walk him home and share his lunch...(maybe steal a kiss or two)

-for someone who likes to run around on the court he sure loves to lay around and be lazy

Seungcheol: Wing Spiker

-Team Captain (obviously)

-he’s the backbone of the team: always ready to kick someone’s ass in gear, but never hesitates to cheer them on when things look rough

-DAD

-even though he’s the captain, people think he isn’t that strong

-Boy are they in for a surprise: they use a synchronized attack, and he just shows up outta nowhere and SMACKS that ball into the other side..their opponents have no chance!

-has a huge crush on the third year setter, and everyone BUT him knows about it (someone help him pls)

Hoshi: Ace

-when I tell you he’s got talent, I mean it. That boy may also be small, but that doesn’t mean he can’t spike the S H I T out of the ball

-extremely charismatic on the court, constantly throwing up peace signs at the crowd and starting a chant with his name to hype himself up

-wears both knee and elbow pads because he’s forever running and falling to get to the ball

-bugs the ever living crap outta Woozi, but he just wants him to admit how awesome he is! (boi just wants his crush to admit that he likes him back pls woozi pay attention to H I M)

-seems like he’s an airhead, but he actually is one of the masterminds behind their plays!

-He, alongside Woozi, is always ready to try new things, and won’t shy away from pushing himself to new heights

[beowulfs-booty-call]

SG Headcanons? SG Headcanons: Beowulf Edition™

Beowulf is stated to be very patriotic in his voice lines and Parasoul references his work “with” them, before rudely telling him to retire if she wins against him. This means that she also knew about the plan with the Medici Mafia to fight a drugged Grendel and win against him for the sake of the war against foreigners / the Skullgirls. However, this may also mean Beowulf participated in the war or had some sort of encounter with the royal family, if not being the entertainment for them in some manner. I personally think King Renoir oversaw his match against Grendel and made sure to work the deal so as to work up the favor for the canopy kingdom.

Beowulf also likes to drink Chamomile tea after first killing Grendel, it was offered to him as a way to sleep, and as such, it helped get over the restless nights where all he could sometimes do was realize… He may have actually killed a friend. I wanna think that there is some idea that he’s killed Grendel, but he’s repressed it into the psyche he plays off as Beowulf™

There’s been times Beowulf sits on the couch just to hope he can relax, but all he does is sit in his robe, boxers and tank top and just idles. His mind runs a whole bunch and he’s distracted with the idea of “What’s his purpose? What’s his use? What really is Beowulf?”

I actually project myself through Beowulf, lot like other characters such as Terra Branford or Eriko Kirishima, but I like to believe that Beowulf actually took his name up instead of being born with it. If not, he went with “Just Beowulf” instead because he’s a simple guy. That’s all he needs.

He’s also a really hard worker, but, he’s prone to sometimes over doing it AKA training every day with his weights or the gym because it’s been mentally drilled into him. If he wanted to be the best, he HAD to be the best. It’s one of the reasons he drinks Chamomile tea often: to relax and let things take place. At 37 years old, he was prone to feeling like he wouldn’t be able to finish every goal he wanted until he was “old”. He understands a bit better now that his accomplishments will last at the end of his storyline.

In the TV show Annie and Beowulf run, Beowulf is the superhero to the kids of New Meridian, while also taking on many new opponents in the ringside. He’s much more a WWE styled wrestler in that he’s back to being a celeb now, but still has his humble beginnings. He also has dated on and off again, but, even in the show he makes empty compliments / receives them from both genders. “What a strong man…” “Ah, thank you sir! Wulfman eats 8 dozen eggs every mornin’ just for trainin’!” “Oh… If only that amazing, handsome Captain Wulf was here…!” “Never fear, the Wulf is here! And… He’s free any time on Friday 8pm at Yu-Wan’s!”

Every morning he wakes up and does 125 squats, 200 pec decks, 225 crunches…

COMFORT CLOTHES EVERY DAY THIS MAN ONLY WEARS HIS BOXERS AND TANK TOPS OR SWEATS HE’S STILL A COLLEGE STUDENT.

When “incognito”, he just wears sunglasses and a baseball cap. Smooth.

Beowulf has also been a little on the chubby side as a kid, but mainly from eating well from backhome. I like to think he was born in the Canopian kingdom, but just has blood in other places he just hasn’t known or seen yet. It would make sense to the Geatish Trepak or Norse / Viking inspired moves to the original Beowulf anyhow. He came to the Canopy Kingdom fresh out the humble life and immediately found himself attracted to the rough and tumble before being let into the wrestling federation to prove his skills.

I like to think either he got his pelt from a Wolf he grew up with that later died peacefully, or, he hunted when he was younger before seeing a wolf die at the end of the hunt. No use for wolf meat where he came from, and in anger at the loss of life, he skinned the wolf for its pelt and vowed to take its place instead. He’s vehement of animal rights, but also tries his best to be open to nature despite hunting as his ideology is to live off the land with just what he needs.

I wanna also say that where Beo grew up in may have a cultural practice where the people take the pelts of animals they use to represent themselves. Bears for patriarchs/matriarchs, weasels / rats for children, otters for teens, and so on so forth. The wolf pelt was taboo and he later used it in rebellion to what he saw in it. Another idea is that the wrestling federation also has animal gimmicks as a way of bringing in the crowd Ala “The man from outta nowhere / Down under.”

Actually has a secret pen name and writes critiques about Operas / musicals and has an appreciation for Jazz as well as the late Contiello  family. He has been known to show up, decked out, and seat himself in the best seat, only to scream at the singers / actors with critiques. “JEEZ, MARIA, CAN YOU SING ANY LOWER? I CAN’T HEAR YOU FROM THE BALCONY.” “HEY SKULLBETH, DO YOURSELF A FAVOR AND BREAK A LEG WITH THAT CLASS ACT.” “YOU CALL THAT AN ARIA, I CALL THAT DIAR–” Of course no one expects this, so, the surprise comes in the form of a well made, thought out essay based on the finer points of the actions and tribulations the actors did or sang. He’s also a stickler for analysis!

The Hurting was actually a parting gift from the local wrestling federation: Just like Hrunting was given to him by Unferth, The Hurting was given to Beowulf by his old sleazy manager where ironically, hasn’t proven unuseful to this day

Immediately and utterly distracted by dogs, he can’t help it. He’s consumed with love over them and would postpone a battle just to pet one.

Unlike the public opinion, he has a master’s degree in English as well as Sociology, though, he’s not one to flex the brain muscles because he has to maintain the psyche of a warrior half the time. This is why he always whispers when fighting with people, while also pretending wrestling is “real” and “isnt”, he’s more focused on maintaining character

Grendel can in fact hear everything Beowulf is saying pre-Marie death, however, all he hears is Beowulf’s fighting quotes: “RUNNIN’ WILD, ALL’S CHAIR, TAKE A LOAD OFF!” (I have a comic planned for this lol)

Grendel’s arm is partially sentient, though he can hear and act, he still gets where his “friend” is coming from time to time. 

The Hurting gets reupholstered time to time, lots of fashion choices to be really honest, too little time to decide.

Unironically, Beowulf actually digs wearing skimpy clothes / speedos when weather permitting / in the mood, however… He doesn’t understand the social aspects of one, so, one he ran into the ring in a regular wrestling speedo and well… Let’s just say there’s a reason the beta drew that ONLY.

Went to college with Adam Kapowski, though, he mainly spoke to him over complaining about his physical education courses / wrestling club “Look, man, I got this cute professor but like, he doesn’t know jack shit over suplexing. Why? BECAUSE EVEN VICTORIA CAN SUPLEX ME BETTER THAN HE CAN”

Has once met Ms. Victoria during his offseason time when retired and she thought he was a villain when he applied to be a librarian, however, when she shows up as D. Violet, and scopes him out “closing” up, she finds him… Bench pressing book cases before she hurries back, still very concerned over the fact that she has to share her students with a supposed gigan wrestler.

Children flock to him for advice and training, and he loves it. When working as a librarian, he would help tutoring or cheer on students, as well as the whacky prank of stealing the janitor’s mop and mobile and would ride it down the halls with the kids. 

When time came to retire out of retirement, the kids came together and made him a botched card thanking him for all he did. Later, he would return to the ring and dedicate his first match to those very kids, and Ms. Victoria, who all sat in the front seats to the match, each with free Wulf™ merch.

Victoria respects him after this, though, she believes he may just be the silliest warrior to show up. D.Violet though has an unrequited crush on him. I’m tickled to fathom they maybe get married, but Beo isn’t one for really being tied down as he is now.

I’m biased to saying he marries me, but hey, that’s not what this post is about: Relationship wise, Beo is fine with no ring, but he’s not much for the ball and chain. He likes to build things up slow and steady, and extremely affectionate due to not receiving that love as much before.

Despite his exterior, his chest hair is like, soft af. Arm hair though isn’t easy and lemme tell you, dude is hairy everywhere. So, he makes it a point to not care and just trim the beard here and there. Also made a very bad commercial about hair loss and body hair despite the fact he doesn’t have those issues.

His hair is super curly so he just brushes it to the side. That’s it. That’s the goddamn cowlick hair cut we all love

Is the only one to know Annie’s true self, but pretends not to for the sake of being another “dumb mortal”. He implies he knows Annie isn’t the same Annie as “before”, but only to draw her ire. At the end of the story line, though, Annie and him grow closer enough that he admits his knowledge and Annie becomes his wingman and bro. 

And I mean bro as in, homegirl screens all would be dates / gf / bf and also manages to make time to meet at their favorite local diner. She hates the amount of hate he gets time to time for being “basic” but she herself is your run of the mill “anime magical girl”. Annie chalks it up to the fact no one cares about talent anymore, but Beowulf still believes Annie has some talent left in her, despite her not seeing it. It’s one of those key reasons she’s very big on his wellbeing: He trusts and believes in her when not many people do. They just believe in the girl of the stars, not Annie.

Annie likes to WHUMP her face on him when embarrassed, and many a time people have walked into his chest or abs because he’s 6′7″ HE’S A FUCKING GIANT. He doesn’t mind it, in fact, he’s flattered by it on the inside ‘cuz he’s a smug Wulf.

Annie, after about 2 weeks being his best friend, cracks many raunchy jokes with him, though, he also brags about certain things he knows she probably won’t experience to her dismay. “Man, Annie, I would have really taken you out to the bar, but oh, I forgot, they don’t serve children!” “Wulf, you’re lucky a 12 year old can’t stab a middle aged man.” “Excuse me princess, would you like another helping of Dinosaur nuggets and fries?”

Tired Wulf Boi Curls Up and Sleps

Cried because he saw those ASPCA commercials

Would fuck a werewolf. Would fuck a monster for the ride of his life. Would also have the gas running and the car ready in case you need the body hid. He’s a ride or die sort of dude, he makes it known when you wake him up too early without context.

“Oh, gosh, golly, gee” is something he copies from Annie time to time

Struggles also, not to curse around her. Dick-tionary, Ass-ets, Douche-Nozzler the gobbledygook. All Annie™ words.

Broke a laptop just by touching it, can now hold a toaster in his hands.

Would not get the reality of wearing a collar. “Wow, you must have a nice do–”

Is still waking up each morning ready to find and craft his purpose in life. He’s used to it not knowing, but he’s clearing his head so far

[one-deranged-son]

Where Were You?

Written by Gossamere as John and Oppie as El.

Warning:

Original story was posted in Twitter but due to it’s obtuse cleaning policy, some parts are unable to be saved.

El

In her defense, El is old enough to go wherever the fuck she wants and Pete can take care of himself back home.

Black hoodie up covering her dark blonde hair and stuffing her hands into its pockets, El finds herself near a park this late at night.

No one bats an eye on her which is good, since the last thing she wants is to be bothered by old people who will tell her to come home because her parents might be looking for her right now.

Pfft. Yeah, right.

She finally stops under the dark shade of trees and drops her bum onto the creaky wooden bench; secluded enough in hopes that no one can see her from here. This is definitely better than staying in their neighbor's despite their generosity.

El feels kind of bad for leaving Pete alone most of the time, considering the fact that their house feels so empty without their dad's presence or nagging or whatever.

Can things get any worse than that?

She takes the only thing that has become her comfort and friend for all the days and nights out of her bag. She has it in some forms, really, but to smoke one is way easier and she can just dump it away like it's only a normal cigarette.

El wonders what would John think if he found out that she's using drugs.

Why would he care? she thinks. He's been gone for, what, days? weeks? El has stopped waiting and counting. She can't understand why Pete is being such a good boy back home. She can never.

Even after finding out the reason why their dad has been gone without a tiny peep, El won't be surprised if he abandons them in the end.

Just like those people who threw her away to the fucking church.

Somehow, a very tiny part of her that refuses to admit things, hopes John would show up out of the blue because damn, she misses her dad.

ㅤㅤ

John

John stares dumbfoundedly at the sight.

There’s his daughter, sitting in a bench of an park which had seen better days in the middle of the fucking, back away from him, and a roll of weed slipped between her fingers.

He doesn’t know what to make of it. A part of him is surprised at that because El has always been the quiet, qoth kind of person in the family, but another part of him is pretty chill about it because it actually suits her personality the most. He’s more confused than perturbed because:

Where did El get herself a goddamn weed when she still looks like a squishy baby?

Is that his fucking weed?

Anyway, not that it minds right now. There are a lot of stuff to be minded about and El smoking on weed on a public space isn’t exactly on the top three priorities. It should have been, but it doesn’t, and there are a lot of reasons for that.

He’s curious though.

“Is that my weed?”

ㅤㅤ

El

Maybe she should stop because El can hear John's voice behind her. She thinks that she's high right now—no, she's definitely not, but she wants to believe that she is—but it feels like she has stopped breathing for a moment.

There's no way that he does appear out of nowhere in such a short span of time. No, no freaking way.

But when she whips her head around to see if she's not imagining things, his tall figure stands there like he just magically appears whenever that full-of-denial part of her wishes him to. El knows that she is pretty much awake and sane right now, so the chance of her seeing a ghost instead was less than zero.

It is her freaking father.

The girl clicks her tongue, turning away from John so that feeling of missing him will not come to the surface just by looking at his face. "Yeah, so?" she retorts, grumbling. "You don't mind anyways.”

(Because you weren't there to stop me.)

"The fuck you're doing here, Dad?" El bites her lower lip for split moments to contain her urge to raise her voice, else it will tremble. "Pete's back home, not here."

ㅤㅤ

John

Truthfully, John minds. Drugs can be obnoxiously expensive and he would certainly flip the fuck out if somebody actually stole his weed. Hey, he worked hard to spare some of his hard-earned cash so they could still go to school too, y’know.

Then again, it wasn’t exactly one of the top three priorities in his book right now.

John doesn’t say anything, though. He just hums in acknowledgement as he lands his ass next to her. Staring at the empty park, never for once John said anything regarding that snarky comments. It feels like hours had passed since the both of them decided to stay mute. As if they were a pair of awkward strangers who wanted to start a conversation, but didn’t have a clue of what to actually talk about.

Or maybe it was just John, he’s always the awkward one when it comes to this sort of shit.

He heaves a long sigh like it had been held for the longest time, then he says, “It’s quite late, y’know.” Finally breaking the whole unbearable tension which had hung long enough to the point it would crush 'em dead.

“We should get back home.”

ㅤㅤ

El

She's aware of that alright.

El rolls her eyes. After being long gone from them, that's it? All John can do is to tell her to get home like other adults who sees this 'pretty' girl by herself late at night? She wants to laugh at his face and tell him to fuck off.

She's been out of their worn down flat longer than this—even crashing to a friend's house or sleeping on the bench at the very extreme—and him returning won't change anything.

(It does because she can finally go home to the family she misses, but she still refuses to acknowledge that)

"So that's it, huh?" she finally speaks up, even though it comes out more of a whisper. "After disappearing for god-knows-how-long, you're here just to shoo me home?"

(No, don't cry. El is trying so hard not to scoot over and give him a tight hug.)

She has thrown the thing away wherever, now her hands are clenched into fists. "Fuck you Dad." she mutters—she tells him to fuck off, after all—hoping that her voice is not betraying her.

"You don't get to do that."

ㅤㅤ

John

John doesn’t even flinch when he notices a hint of a faint quiver on that bark. He shifts closer, knowing well that it won’t really result in anything promising if not for a stab in his rib cage, but really, who will tell him to actually mind after that shit?

John, instead of moving away after being obviously motioned that he need to just screw the fuck outta her space, leans closer again. Then he wraps his arm around the younger's shoulder with apparent hesitation while his eyes remained fixed to the soothing scenery of the empty park. It was good that nobody is around here, because he can’t really stand it if anyone sees him crying for the second time today. His eyes are already swollen red because of Peter, now there is El.

God have mercy on his heart.

“I’m sorry.”

ㅤㅤ

El

Rather than giving some sort of a comfort (it usually does, but it just feels completely weird now), it gives a way for her rage to build up inside her real fast. El hates how calm John is right now; not even mad at her for stealing his stuff, not even nagging at her because of staying out here so late, not even for literally leaving her younger brother to care for himself where it's supposed to be her job.

She doesn't care if he thinks that a simple sorry will cut it (maybe it works for Pete, but not her) but it sure as hell ticks her off. Harshly pushing his arm away, El gets up from the bench and stands in front of him, pulling her hoodie down.

(She notices his red-rimmed eyes amidst the dark. She doesn't like that.)

"'I'm sorry'? You think you can just come back and apologize and hoped that it's all cool and dandy?" El seethes angrily; there's an accusing look on her eyes, but maybe she doesn't know it. "No freaking way. Maybe that works with Pete but not me."

(A part of her wishes that it is the case with her too, but it's not.)

"Where were you, huh?" she asks, although she knows the answer to that.

(There goes her last attempt of not letting her voice breaks.)

ㅤㅤ

John

He’s struggling to keep himself from actually breaking out again, but with that way that voice trembles, it’s hard.

A sigh blossoms in his chest, John rubs the bridge of his nose as his eyes darted to his feet in a contemplating matter. As if he hadn’t realized that whatever he had done will be hard to forgive or even forget. As if he didn’t know that it was all his fault that everything turned south.

“You watched the news,” says John, finally bringing his eyes into looking to that pain-stricken eyes, “you know where I’ve been.”

John doesn’t even try to hide his obvious distress while his goddamned mind takes him into another ride of the notorious memory from the previous weeks. And even though he had it bad, John couldn’t really say that his kids had it better. In fact, they might had it worse.

“I know I should’ve told y’all sooner, but,” right, it’s hard, it’s really hard when it feels like every air had been sucked out of your lungs. It’s really hard when your eyes feel like it was being burnt by the hell fire. It’s really hard when your heart feels like it was stabbed by the Roman senators, “fucking hell...”

John stood up. For once he feels like all hope was lost.

“El, please come home.”

ㅤㅤ

El

Her hands are shaking. Damn, they're shaking right now.

"'Course I watched the fucking news!" she snaps, swallowing the lump in her throat that makes it so hard to steady her voice. "I don't give a fuck about that. I don't give a damn about whoever that guy on TV that looked just like you—"

(El knows that's him. The Revelator is John. He was arrested. She knows, but she doesn't care.

She was shocked—and maybe a little bit terrified—yes, but she doesn't care. She doesn't know The Revelator, but she knows John and that is her dad.)

"—but where were you?" her eyes sting; why?

"Where the fuck were you when you're supposed to pick us up from Stan's? Did you see Pete sitting alone on their fucking dining table doing his homework? Did you see him sleeping on their damn couch like he was sleeping on a fucking cardboard?!"

(It was better than sleeping on the bench, at least, but El can see how uncomfortable he gets sometimes.)

She stops to breathe. She's still human and talking while breathing like she is doing a marathon like this isn't helping her at all.

The silence only last for not even a minute. "No, you didn't, because you weren't fucking there!"

She had no idea that she's been screaming for the last five minutes. The park's empty, fortunately, or else she's just embarrassing herself.

El wipes the tears off her cheeks—her eyes sting because of these damn tears that just won't stop leaking out—harshly with her sleeves, trying to stop her shoulders from trembling too.

(Their home hasn't been home for a while. She wants to, but she's afraid.)

"You weren't." the 18-year-old repeats, voice barely audible this time. "Home doesn't feel like home anymore."

ㅤㅤ

John

John sees the tears running down her cheeks. The night is dark and the cold wind was piercing through his bones, but nothing could distract him from the pain he gets after seeing that expression.

“I couldn’t risk it.”

He tried his best to actually reason with her, but truly, truly, it was fucking hard when even your brain is blaming every shit on you. Even now John has to convince himself, because he can’t break down now. He can’t let himself fall apart.

“You know who I am.”

He continues, his voice starting to tremble as he takes one step closer. Not daring to pursue even further ‘cause he thinks it will only make her run from him. He doesn’t want that.

“I was trying to, I—I can’t... oh fuck.”

John doesn’t even bother to hold his tears back now. He doesn’t know what he’s doing.

“I’m sorry.”

ㅤㅤ

El

It's quiet for a bit because El doesn't know what to say. Sniffling, she tucks some strands of her messy blonde hair behind her ears before looking up to him.

(Shit. He's crying too.)

She shakes her head, averting her gaze to the ground once again (there's no way she doesn't feel a bit guilty for making John cry like that) and clutched the ends of her sweater tightly. El feels so small all of the sudden; small, and terrified.

(She still denies that she wants to come home.)

"I wondered if those fuckers did something to you." she murmured at long last. "Or you died. If you didn't, I thought that you fucking left us just like...just like—"

(Just like them that left her alone.)

She heaves a breath, and her chest feels so tight right now (having emotions sucks) while still gluing her eyes downwards. "Waiting was damn scary. Waiting for someone that might be adopting two messed up lil' bitches just to play house was damn terrifying."

(She hopes that's not it, though.)

"I'm scared that..." she trails off, not wanting to say it but she does anyways, "that you're not coming back."

ㅤㅤ

John

He shakes his head, trying to figure out how to stop himself from tearing out. But the words hit deeper than it should’ve been. They were true, it must be scary and even though John thought that what he did was right, now it feels like it was the biggest mistake he had ever done.

“I know I’m wrong.” He mutters. Incoherent mumbles is how the words sounded like. Still, he takes a deep breath and tried to calm his heart beat. It was spiking to high, even higher than the times he had to kill someone or shoot some drugs into his blood.

It was hurting too much.

“I know that I should’ve thought about what you feel instead of doing all of this by myself. I know I messed up, but please.”

John takes another step closer.

“Please don’t do this,” he says, pointing out to the roll of weed. On another situation, he might have told her to buy it for herself jokingly, but really, what kind of parent he would be for letting his daughter do... that?

“That’s not legal in our State and you know that,” he tries to reason again, though the only true reason was because he doesn’t want to let her fall into the same shit hole.

Because if she did, it would be his fault. And John thinks he won’t ever forgive himself if he let that happen.

“Please... come home.”

ㅤㅤ

El

The reason why she did drugs is because she knows that no one will give a fuck. When he was away? El isn't even a bit worried about getting caught. But now? Man, that guilt building inside her heart can't be ignored.

She's well aware that it's illegal, and it's bad for thousand reasons, but all she could think about was how to forget everything and get the stressing thoughts away from her head.

"I know." El answers quietly, not even trying to defend herself anymore.

(She doesn't have to do that now.)

Her eyes are now set on the roll she had thrown to the ground earlier, listening to John talking like he's a broken vase hurts her to some extend.

Maybe all those things—being exposed, jailed, and whatnot—did something to him that she doesn't want to know.

That does it. El looks up to him once again and braced herself for that.

(Fuck pride. She can't stand seeing him like this anymore.)

Finally allowing herself to get close, she pulls him into a hug, letting her arms settle themselves around his waist; don't blame her, she's pretty short. She had no idea how much she misses John and now it hits her hard.

"Stop crying like a baby, Dad." she mutters, trying to stop sniffling herself. "Sounds fucking ugly."

ㅤㅤ

John

He feels all the tension in his muscles melt as they hugged through the night. For what it seems to be eternity, might had only passed for like, a minutes or more? They weren’t very affectionate to each other. Perhaps Peter was better at this, but not John, not El.

Doesn’t mean they never want to.

He dissolves into a puddle of laughter afterwards. The weight on his shoulder felt as if it has been lifted off, then a smile creeps into his face and that moment John swears he has stopped crying.

“And you’re never going to take my weed again, punk,” he says, as he places his arm on her shoulder and drags her home.

[foreverlovingdaryldixon]

Bad Seed Rising (Chapter 3)

A/N: I think this’ll be the last chapter I’ll be posting on here, the rest will be on ninelives! Hope you enjoy guys! Reviews are love.

Ninelives link: ninelivesarchive.com/viewstory.php?sid=2704&chapter=3

Carol felt like a weight had been lifted off her chest as she held in her hand her upgraded maths paper. The shit she’d avoided getting off her parents had been worth hounding the teachers over - besides she knew his grading was wrong, why shouldn’t she push for the grade she’d worked for?

Pulling up to her house, she lugged her bag over her shoulder, another hefty helping of homework dished out to her to fill her evening…how thrilling.

“I’m home,” she called out as she entered the door, slipping off her shoes and heading into their dining room.

“Good evening darling,” her father greeted, glancing up at her over his laptop from the head of the table.

She sat down and immediately pulled out her books, getting her homework done sooner rather than later.

Within a few moments her mother flurried through the door, apron tied around her waist as she set a bottle of wine in the middle of the table.

“And what are the results from your maths test today?” her mother asked as way of greeting.

That infamous twitch to roll her eyes was there again but she ignored it, pulling the test papers from under her homework, “got an A.”

“Wonderful,” her mother said clasping her hands together, “keep that up and you’ll be in Yale before you know it.”

Do. Not. Roll. Eyes.

Carol hummed a sort of response, pretending to be too involved in her homework to give an actual reply.

Her mother went promptly back to making dinner, her father deciding to perk up and say his piece.

“No work at the table tomorrow Carol, I want to make a good impression on the Peletier’s. Mr Peletier’s firm and mine are in the middle of making a very important agreement, you are not to step a foot out of line.”

Carol nodded in understanding, thinking how she’d rather shoot herself rather than spend an evening with Ed Peletier.

“I might just stay at the library for the evening, I have a project I could work on-“

“No. You are to be here, Ed’s coming and you will be here too, he’s a strapping young man.”

Carol bit her tongue in her urge to argue otherwise, arguing would get her nowhere, best to stay silent.

Dinner was served with minimal amount of speaking on Carol’s part, letting her parents run their jaws about whatever they pleased as long as it meant she didn’t have to.

After helping clean up she excused herself to go to her room, explaining she had more work to be getting on with.

When she got to her room she flopped herself out on her bed, already feeling dread for tomorrow evening. Ed had tried it on with her on more than one occasion, every time she flat out rejected him, she was not going to be another notch on his bedpost, not by far. Her rejections didn’t seem to deter him though, in fact he seemed to become more and more eager every encounter she had with him.  Her friends thought the situation was hilarious, at least they got some laughs in the expense of her misery.

**

Daryl had spent the rest of his evening down the garage, trying to make up the money Merle lost that morning.

By the time he got back he was dead on his feet, his stomach grumbling as a reminder he’d yet to eat anything. Rummaging through the cupboards of his shitty tin can of a home he managed to rustle up a sandwich and a can of beer, calling out to his brother as he settled on the couch.

“Merle ya dick,” he yelled, head tilted towards his bedroom.

He received a grunt of a reply letting Daryl know he’d survived the day.

“Ya gonna drag ya ass out’ve bed sometime today?” he asked glancing around at the shit he’d left the place in after last night’s rendezvous.

“Later,” Merle grunted back, clearly suffering on a comedown.

“Place ain’t gonna clean itself,” Daryl grumbled, crushing the empty beer can in his hand, chucking it into the trash from where he was sat.

“Get the stick outta ya ass boy,” Merle called back, “public school ain’t doin’ ya no damn good.”

“Fuck you,” Daryl growled as he got up and strode over to his room, kicking off his shoes before collapsing down on the bed.

Sitting up, Daryl leant out of his window, lighting up another smoke to calm his aggravated nerves, too much shit got under his skin today.

“Y’know maybe if ya got some pussy once in a while ya wouldn’t be so damn tense Darylina,” Merle’s voice said from his doorway, “ya gotta be drownin’ in willin’ tail at that pile’ve shit ya insist on goin’ too.”

“Fuck off Merle,” Daryl warned, he was not in the mood for his shit.

“What ya don’t wanna talk to big brother Merle?” Merle chuckled, stealing a cigarette from the packet on Daryl’s bedside table.

“Nah not really,” Daryl responded, focusing on the nicotine flowing through his veins rather than the anger.

“Throw me a bone here Daryl,” Merle smirked, “ya ain’t seen me in over two weeks.”

“Yeah and where the fuck’ve ya been?” Daryl snarled, snatching the cigarette back out of Merle’s fingers.

“I’ve been…around?” Merle offered, honestly he couldn’t really remember, “went to visit an old friend, owed me some money.”

“Yeah and where fuck is that money now? Oh yeah ya fuckin’ snorted it up didn’t ya?” Daryl snapped.

“If we’re goin’ for technicalities, then actually I injected it in,” Merle said, no trace of guilt in his tone.

Daryl let out a growl, he was done with this conversation, so fucking done.

“Get out,” he said as calmly as he could.

Merle knew when to choose his battles, the fact that Daryl’s voice was still so calm meant it was time for him to haul ass.

“I’ll get the money,” Merle grunted before he left, shutting the door behind him padding back to his own room.

Daryl took long and deep breaths as he burned a hole through his door with his stare, he was stuck with the world’s biggest fuck up as a brother. Sad thing was that Merle was the only family he had left, the only person that gave even the smallest shit about him.

It took another cigarette before he felt calm enough to sleep, his anger within him wrapped like a tightly coiled spring. What the fuck did he do to deserve this shit?

**

The next morning came and if Carol had to hear one more damn word about the Peletier’s she was going cut her ears off. She had even left for school early just to avoid her parents repetitive droning driving her to the point of insanity.

When she got to school she was pleased to see Michonne and Andrea were already there, sat on top of the picnic table talking to Rick and Shane. She quickly approached them greeting both them and the boys.

“Excited for your date with Peletier tonight?” Andrea teased immediately.

Rick and Shane both raised a brow at her in question as Carol reached across from where she was sat to slap her on the arm.

“It’s not a date,” Carol stressed, “it’s a business meeting between my father and his, just so happens that Ed is coming along.”

“How convenient,” Michonne quipped.

“Isn’t it ever,” Carol groaned, groaning even further as the man himself turned up in his brand new sports car.

“Here comes lover boy now,” Andrea snickered as Ed made a beeline for Carol.

“Miller,” Ed greeted with one his overly confident grins.

“Peletier,” Carol said back, the intensity of his stare already setting like a chill in her bones.

“Looking good today,” he commented as he sucked at his teeth, “I’m presuming you’ll be there for dinner tonight.”

“That I will,” she kept her sentences short, hoping to get the conversation over and done with.

Thankfully the ringing of the bell cut off whatever was about to come out of his vulgar mouth.

“See you tonight, beautiful,” he winked before turning away to join his jock friends, getting pats of encouragement as he no doubt made some claim that wasn’t true.

“Guy gives me the creeps,” Rick chuckled as they all walked towards the entrance.

“You and I both,” Carol said back with a shudder.

School dragged on much long than it needed too, prolonging her urge to get the evening over and done with.

They sat indoors at lunch with their usual crowd of people. Carol wouldn’t consider herself one of the popular kids but she certainly wasn’t lacking for friends.

Her closest friends were Andrea and Michonne- being best friends since grade school- but they roamed with a wide circle of people. There was Maggie, Glenn (those two were dating), Rick (him and Michonne should be dating), Shane (had a thing for Andrea, not that she ever showed any real interest, other than that one time no one’s allowed to ask about), Tara (she has a lowkey thing for Rosita), Paul (although everyone knew him as Jesus), Rosita and Abraham (they were also dating on and off).

Those that were consider popular were the jocks and the cheerleaders, obviously, but their crowds rarely ever mixed. However, it seemed today Ed was set on breaking that norm.

“Carol,” Ed said taking an uninvited seat next to her making her cringe in her place.

“Hello Ed,” she said, her strained voice not going unnoticed by those around her.

“So, I was thinking, maybe after the dinner tonight we could spend some time together, could take you out for a spin,” he said with a sickening smile like he’d just come up with the best idea ever.

“Let’s just get through dinner first,” she said in return, “I have work to catch up on,” she added, thinking of the homework she never finished the night before.

“Y’know, you don’t have to play hard to get with me angel face,” he said a hand coming out to caress her cheek, only for Carol to grip his thick wrist tightly, removing her hand away from her.

“Believe me that is so not my game,” she muttered as she stared down at table, praying he’d get the hint and go away.

“Whether you like it or not, our parents want us together, and who are we to dictate them?” he asked with a smirk as he stood up, gripping her chin in his large hand to face him, “besides…you wouldn’t hear any complaints coming from me.”

She jerked out of his hold, shuddering in disgust as he strode proudly back to his band of merry men.

“And why aren’t we allowed to kick his ass again?” Andrea asked, her lip curled up in a snarl as she watched him walk away.

“Because, his family and mine are soon to be business partners and as my father said if I so much as put a foot out of line…it’s just not worth the hassle of dealing with my parents,” she sighed, slumping herself into her hands as she rested her elbows on the table.

“You need to stand up to them at some point Carol,” Michonne said from across the table, “you’re eighteen years old, they can’t control like they do anymore.”

“If only it were that simple,” Carol whined following with a huff, “they’ll completely cut me off if I don’t do something that doesn’t follow within their plans for me. And I’m not saying that I rely on my parents’ money for things but I can’t even get a job within a five mile radius of this town, they’ve used their scary ass authority to make sure they won’t even consider hiring me.”

“Y’know, my uncle owns a bar, let me talk to him, see if he’ll consider taking you on? Your parents wouldn’t even have to know.”

“A bar?” Carol asked her jaw going a little slack, “Andrea I can’t work in a bar, have you seen me? I wouldn’t last two minutes in a job like that.”

Andrea simply shrugged her shoulders, “up to you, but at one point or another you’re going to have to stop living under their foot, that day is going to come whether you like it or not.”

Carol groaned as she rested her head on her table, the thought of defying her parents even without their knowledge was terrifying, they had eyes everywhere in this town, there’s no way they wouldn’t find out eventually. But she knew her friends were right, she had to make a stand against them…but at the same time the last thing she wanted to do was piss them off. That spark of defiance was there though, whether she knew it or not. It was just waiting to be lit and shit if they weren’t on their way to lighting it.