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angrykidnomoney · 2 days ago

Text

Never a post so profound.

Newsies Fic Gothic

Time has no meaning. It’s 2016. It’s 1899. It’s 1899 but electricity and cars haven’t been invented yet. The past is the past. The future is the future. There are time traveling girls. Jack spends too much time playing Angry Birds on David’s phone in the lodging house.

Everybody is gay. David is gay. Jack is gay. Pulitzer is gay. Sarah is gay. Katherine it’s gay, The pigeons who were frightened by the trash fire are gay pigeons. Patrick’s mother is a raging lesbian who loves her gay son.

Nobody is gay, and everybody has long lost sisters. Race’s sister is dating Jack. Jack’s sister is dating Skittery. All of the sisters are very estranged. The Delanceys terrorize those that they do not date. The sisters tuck their hair into their newsies caps. Nobody must discover that they are girls.

Racetrack and Spot Conlon stood next to each other in one version of the story. Because of this, they are dating. They show their love by cursing a lot and being very cool. Shortness attracts shortness. It is law.

Spot Conlon is everywhere. He’s in Brooklyn. He’s in Manhattan. He’s in Manhattan. He’s on Mars. Spot Conlon is walking on the sun. Spot Conlon is the little voice inside your heart telling you to believe in yourself and be a good person. Spot a Conlon thinks you should start by eating more Doritos and learning to be a badass. Never fear. Brooklyns here.

The spelling of Crutchie’s name changes every time you read it. Crutchy in love with Jack. Cruhqi is in love with David. Crutchee is sad about the refuge. Krutchee is too good for this cruel world. Crunchy is one person and many. Kerutch-E is everybody’s favorite character.

Jack Kelly is not in love with Sarah Jacobs. They are only friends. They got into a fight and broke up. Sarah is evil. Jack is too gay to date girls. Sarah helps him date her brother. Sarah cackles and devolves into dust. Who is this Sarah you speak of? There is no Sarah, only Katherine. The kiss never happened.

Manhattan is at war with Queens. Again. Will the war ever end? Will our boys ever come home?

There are not enough beds in the lodging house. There are never enough beds in the lodging house. David would like to sleep in the lodging house. He must use Jack’s bed. There are no other options for David. There are no other beds for David.

There are background characters with no lines. They are your responsibility now. Use your power wisely. We forge our own protagonists in blood, sweat, and tears.

Is Jack a cowboy or an artist? His form shifts before your eyes. Is it David or Davey? Are they one in the same? Can they exist in the same universe, or is that a power granted solely to Katherine and Sarah?

Jack and Katherine have a ship. What is their ship called? Is it Kack Plelly? Jatherine Kummer? Goatcuticles? Nobody knows. Nobody can agree. The old ones say there was unity once. Heedless of this conflict, the ship sails on. At least for some.

Davey will never go back to school. Davey will be doomed to repeat his first day back at school over and over in an endless loop. Davey knows the square root of pi. Davey has some facts he’d like to share with you. Davey is unsure what a newspaper is because he is a soft and sheltered student type.

There is no you’re, and there is no your, and there is no yours. There is only “you’s, and if you’s ain’t happy wit dat you’s better hav you’d lawyer call me’s lawyer, and maybe we’ scan woirk somethin’ out. Or maybe you’s face would loike to meet me’s fist if you’s knows what I’s means.

AU, AU is the name of the game. Jack is a gymnast. No wait, he’s a star fleet officer. And now they are at Hogwarts. Keruhchiiiiii has a dragon. David is a very anxious lamp. Mafia.

There is a fic, old and legendary, revered by all. It is about summer camp. Sometimes people forget. Sometimes new people arrive with no knowledge of fandom paths once trod. The story is a beacon in the dark. It’s never forgotten for long.

#newsies #92sies #livesies #have I stumbled upon ultimate truth?#this is why i love tumblr #this is why i love newsies #this is why i love the fansies #grateful to be here #and to return #and to know it's here when i need it most

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more-sonorous · 10 hours ago

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asking you to stop and wait and stay

some javey angst for you on this fine friday!

.....

There were many nights when Jack felt like his family’s home was too big.

It was a problem he’d never dreamed he’d encounter as a boy. Not when he lived in a cruddy matchbox apartment with his parents, not when he was crammed into one shitty lodging house with twenty other boys, and not in the brief few months he spent working at the shipyards, learning to weld steel with unforgiving sun beating down on his skin. His life was rough cotton, sleeping in beds too small with too little room.

Katherine’s world was strange and empty and new, and Jack was finding that he almost preferred the uncomfortable comfort of bodies pressed against him out of necessity. Not he and Kath’s too-large bed, not the too-long hallways or the too-far distance between their too-big bedroom and his son’s, which seemed miles away when the boy was having a nightmare, cries splitting the too-quiet night. The household staff moved about like mice and the entire massive country estate seemed to drown in silence every night. It was different. No snoring newsboys, no gentle humming from his mamá, nothing but Katherine’s soft breathing and the occasional groaning of wood.

They’d been living here for five years and Jack still hadn’t quite grown used to it– the decadence of it all, the looming quiet, the heavy weight of responsibility. Maybe the halls were empty in an attempt to encourage them to fill it with family. That’s what the Kellys were doing, after all– they had their first darling son Micheal and Kath was with child (they’d found that out recently and Jack was beyond elated), and he was positive there were more children to come. Happy about it, too. He’d always wanted a family.

They were young, though. Micheal was almost five and their little family was as small as he was, with his little hands and feet and his precious youth. Jack’s boy. When he slept well, the quiet never went away.

Jack found himself unable to rest when he felt truly suffocated by the empty air. He’d travel through endless hallways and wander into the sunroom he’d claimed as his art studio, sit and bask in the moonlight that streamed in from the massive paneled windows. Paint a thing or two. Kath and Micheal, Davey at his precious piano, Race with a cigar, Charlie sitting in the penthouse. It was one of those restless nights, with rain gently pattering around the window, when the Kelly family’s stuffy butler poked his head into the studio and murmured something or other about Jack having a visitor.

He thought disdainfully about unnecessarily long hallways as he made his way to the front of the house, following the flickering candle of the man ahead of him, dressed in nightgown and cap. Jack was still in his clothes from the day– he hadn’t even bothered sleeping. In one of his moods.

Guilt for joining the ‘upper echelon’ as Davey so furiously called it during his rants, maybe. Jack never stopped feeling guilt about it. The money, the clothes, the house.

Think of the man and he shall appear, apparently, because behind the door stood a rain-soaked Davey Jacobs. Wet curls clung to his forehead and his green eyes were bright and wild as he stared at Jack, flushed and breathless with his chest heaving beneath his soaked clothes. Jack realized, with slightly muted horror, that his best friend rode here on horseback all the way from the city in the middle of a rainstorm. He could see the miserable pony pawing at the mud in the lawn, somewhere in the distance as thunder rumbled.

“Dave. Jesus. Jesus, Davey, you gotta get inside–”

“No, no. No. Not necessary. I just– I’ve got to head straight back home as soon as possible, really, but I had to talk to you, Jackie. Just had to.” He breathed, running a freckled hand through that curly hair of his. It was black with rainwater, and Jack realized that at some point his butler had disappeared into the night. “We’ll talk on the porch?”

He felt his own lips ticking down into a frown. This was very un-Davey like behavior. Davey never did impulsive things. Something was wrong. “Sure.”

The ornately carved door clicked shut behind Jack, and they stood alone in the lamplight of the porch. A storm sang around them, and dim moonlight saved the rain-soaked lawn from the depths of the shadows. Davey’s face was half-blue and half-orange, a strange mix of lighting that Jack was almost certainly going to paint later. Though he couldn’t quite focus on thoughts of paint and color when his friend’s face was taut with worry.

“Jackie.”

“Everythin’ okay?” Jack asked carefully, feeling tension begin to coil up in his spine.

He received a terse nod in response, and David buried his probably-freezing hands in his pockets. “Yes Of course. I’m… I’m perfectly alright.”

“Good. That… uh… that’s great.”

Davey nodded, awkward and stilting just like he’d been recently. For some reason, the man had been acting strange. Long silences, bouts of intense staring, a lingering melancholy sadness that seemed to bubble up when nobody was speaking– Jack wanted to understand. Wanted to shake Dave up a bit– figure out what was going on in his curly head.

With a little bit of horror rising in his chest, Jack noted that Davey’s wide green eyes were growing glossy with tears.

“In short, I’m moving to France. Paris, specifically.”

Jack blinked. Mulled the words over in his head. Considered the actual possibility of Dave Jacobs moving to Paris. Felt his own chest shaking with a laugh as his eyebrows shot up. “Yeah, alright. Good joke, Dave.”

“No. I– I really am. Next week.” Earnestly, his voice rose in pitch. Jack almost frantically scanned his best friend’s face for any sign of lying but he found none– he’d known this man for six long years, and Davey was an awful liar. He was decidedly not lying about this Paris thing, and Jack was so baffled that he could scarcely form a logical thought. Davey drove his point forward with more rambling, elegant fingers fidgeting with the hem of his dripping coat, which was still dripping onto Jack’s porch. “I didn’t— I haven’t told you because I kept thinking I’d change my mind. I kept thinking it was too impulsive or too unlike me, and that I’d back out at the last second, but now I’m really seeing the deadline and I know I have to go. I know it’s what I need.”

“What you– what you need?”

Jack stared in disbelief, sort of feeling like the floor of the porch had dropped out beneath him. He felt like he was falling, like the air had been knocked from his chest, like he’d received a particularly nasty kick from his toddler. Davey was leaving. Davey was moving to another continent.

He forced himself to breathe. Calm down. Katherine would be telling him to count each breath, make his way to ten– he wasn’t patient enough for that. “How long? A month?”

“Well– no. It lasts until I… um… learn everything. Or until my mentor thinks I’ve learned everything which– well, that… uh– that could be years, Jackie, I’ll be honest.” He looked away, rife with guilt from face to feet.

And Jack wanted to explode. Years. Years of Davey being fucking unreachable, years without his best friend and closest confidant by his side? Jack couldn’t do that. Davey was his person. Davey was who he went to when Kath wasn’t around. Davey was the first person he’d invite over for a casual drink or a night in. He ranted about his problems to this man. Told him absolutely everything. How was he supposed to function for years without Davey? And how could Davey choose to leave him?

He’d stayed for Davey all of those years ago when the call to Santa Fe had been so strong it nearly killed him. Kath firstly, of course, but Davey was amongst the long list of reasons. Davey was supposed to ignore this Paris call. He was supposed to stay in New York with Jack. They were happy. They had good lives.

“How could you– I don’t understand how you could need to be so far away from everyone you love, Dave? You don’t need that!”

Davey winced, looking smaller than Jack had seen him in years. He almost looked seventeen again, which thrust Jack back into memories of a much simpler time. This man did not look like a twenty-three year old, confident maestro that played piano in Irving Hall and chatted pleasantly with all of New York City’s wealthy folk whilst talking shit about them right behind their backs. This didn’t look like Jack’s best friend. He wasn’t sweet and funny Uncle Day. This was David. Jack was looking at David and he scarcely knew him, because Davey would never up and leave him like this.

“Jackie, you don’t– you don’t get it.” He seemed to plead, lurching forward like a wooden toy sprung into action. Rigid and frantic. “I got accepted for an apprenticeship in Paris. I’m going to study under some of my favorite composers, Jack, I’m learning from Debussy himself. I know– I know it’s going to be difficult to be away from home, but I need to leave–”

He saw red and felt his hands curling into fists as unrestrained anger coursed through him. “You’re abandoning everybody that cares about you, Davey!”

“I’m not abandoning you or anybody, Jack, I still– I’m going to be a part of your life! I’ll write you letters every week and I’ll come back as soon as I can. And I’m not just leaving for the sake of leaving, I– I have my reasons and that– that’s actually why I’m here. I needed to talk to you alone. I need to tell you something. I can’t leave without telling you.”

“Telling me what?” Jack scoffed bitterly, still stuck between unbridled fury and disbelief.

“I–” Rigidly, he met Jack’s eyes. Davey looked almost like a frightened fawn, frozen like a statue with droplets of water slipping down the sides of his face from his damp hair. “You have to promise me that you won’t let this ruin our friendship.”

“Like movin’ to another country ain’t gonna ruin our friendship anyways?” He spat, almost bitterly, though there was a thick undercurrent of sadness beginning to roar beneath his mighty anger. Davey was right in front of him and Jack was already missing him like a lost limb.

His friend’s lips pressed into a thin line. Jack could see him biting back a sarcastic retort and almost wished he’d let it out, but Davey seemed seconds away from tears and miles away from considering anger at Jack. “It won’t. But that’s beside the point. I just– I need you to tell me that what I’m about to say won’t change the way you see me in your mind.”

“What the hell, Dave?” growing fed up with the cryptic bullshit, Jack groaned and pushed a hand through his hair. Dave just blinked at him and Jack clamped his jaw shut tightly. “Okay, Davey, I promise.”

“Good.”

The other man sucked in a breath, chest swelling with it. His clothes– every layer from overcoat to waistcoat, were clinging to him. He was soaked through to the bone and his curly hair was only just stopping it’s dripping. Jack could see the nerves in the way his fingers were fidgeting nonstop, feet rocking forward onto tiptoe and back onto heel repeatedly. Whatever this was, it was tearing him up. It had led him to ride into the countryside through a thunderstorm. It was making him speechless, green eyes staring up at the flickering lamp to the right of the ornate door. He took another deep breath. A third one after that. Lashes fluttered. Jack was beginning to grow incredibly anxious– what the hell was his problem?

Then, Davey turned to face Jack and met his eyes with an almost searing intensity, a single tear slipping from his left eye as he opened his mouth. “I’m in love with you.”

Huh.

Jack considered, briefly, that he might’ve been joking, but after the events of the night, that was doubtful. Something about the way Davey was looking at him… he felt his own heart dropping to his feet, chest clenching tightly. “Davey…”

“Don’t– just– don’t say anything, Jackie, please.” He begged, lurching backwards. “Don’t. I– I’ve been feeling this way for so long, and it… it’s been making me miserable. Ruining my life. I see you every day and I know I can’t have you, but all I fucking feel is love love love and it’s driven me insane.”

He ran his hands through those wet curls and pressed his hands to his scalp, somehow still fighting tears. Davey cried often; it was remarkable how well he was holding himself together because Jack was closer to crying than he was. There was no way Davey was in love with him. He could scarcely believe it– until he began to actually think about it, examining the signs and realizing all of the little details he’d missed.

Since they were seventeen, Davey had always had a particular soft spot for him, hadn’t he? Suddenly memories were flooding Jack’s mind. The private smiles Davey saved just for him, the way he looked at him with those owlish green eyes, the compositions he wrote just for Jack. The way he’d refused to be Jack’s best man and sequestered himself behind the piano all evening. The inexplicable tightness of his smile when he met Jack’s son for the first time. The awkward tension that never seemed to relax from his body when he found himself in Jack and Katherine’s home. The moments of sorrow when no one was looking, every single fucking time Jack caught him staring– oh, God. Davey had been feeling like this for years and Jack hadn’t noticed once.

His own throat was feeling tight with dismay as why why why ran through his mind.

He’d known about Davey’s homosexuality since they were eighteen or nineteen and Dave drunkenly confessed to kissing a boy. Jack had never cared about who he loved– Davey was his best friend and Jack knew plenty of other homosexuals. But Davey– Davey should’ve been in love with someone better.

Someone that could love him back, someone without a family of their own.

Jesus. That explained Paris, too. Davey had been bottling this up for six years. Of course he was finally snapping and running away. Lined right up with the announcement of Kath’s second pregnancy. Oh, this was bad. Jack was driving him away.

“Davey–” Desperate to comfort, he reached out his hand. Davey flinched away. “Dave, c’mon, I ain’t mad at’cha.”

“I– I’m glad about that but I just–” he turned to face the rainstorm and a bolt of lightning crashed across the sky, illuminating the picturesque lawn, bathed in darkness and soaked through and through. “I… I know you could never really love me back, but there was always part of me that hoped that maybe– it’s stupid. I’m looking at you now and all I see is pity.”

“I do love ya’.” Jack insisted, feeling his own voice warbling with unshed emotion.

Davey’s bottom lip trembled and Jack felt like his heart was being shattered. He wanted to return Davey’s affections. To give him everything he’d ever wanted. To wipe the slow-rolling tears away. He couldn’t give him any of that. “Not like I want you to.”

And if that wasn’t a painful truth… Jack sucked in a breath. “Nah… but I still– I care so much–”

“I know you do, Jackie, that’s– that’s part of the problem.” He hiccuped a watery laugh and dragged his damp sleeves over his eyes, only making his face wetter. “Sometimes it feels like you’re st-stringing me along with all of your flirting and touching.”

“Oh, God. I never– shit, Dave, I really never meant for you to feel like that. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Jack was itching to do something. Hug him or just place a hand on his shoulder, Jack didn’t care. His fingers were burning with it.

Davey offered him a sad little smile and shook his head. “Not your fault. They’re my stupid feelings, anyways.”

“Not– not stupid. Y’can’t help it, man.” Jack swallowed around the lump in his throat as the air thickened with awkwardness. “I just– I wish you’d’ve told me sooner before ya’ decided to just run away from me.”

“I’m not running.” He insisted firmly, though Jack privately disagreed despite the force of his friend’s conviction. “I’m just putting a bit of distance between us for both of our sakes. I’ll write you letters and focus on my music and by the time I return, I won’t be in love with you at all and I’ll be everything you need me to be. Best friend, godfather, uncle– I’ll do it all perfectly and we won’t ever have problems again.”

Jack, once notorious for running without the notion of ever settling, was feeling pity. It hurt, sweltering with all of the other emotions within him. “That ain’t healthy, Dave. You oughta deal with it here.”

“I’ve tried dealing with it, Jackie. Six years. I’ve been in love with you for six years. That’s more than half a decade. It– it’s not fair for you to ask me to stay and wallow in it.”

Like always, he had a point. Unable to stand still a moment longer, Jack turned on his heel and paced the length of the porch. His mind was racing with incoherent thoughts, a jumble of panic and sadness and pity. If he’d have just known sooner, if someone would’ve told him, if Davey wasn’t going to Paris… and when he turned around, Davey was right there waiting, hands in his pockets. Jesus. Davey was in love with him and he was moving to another continent.

“Am I… am I gonna see you again? ‘Fore you go.”

“Sure. I’ll have a little get together so we can all swap stories and have a drink before I set off.” He stared at his feet, at the black boots he so enjoyed to wear. Said they made pressing down on piano pedals easier. Fuck. Jack was going to miss his strange Davey-isms. “You and Kathy and the guys. My siblings.”

He sounded hollow. Defeated. Jack felt sick.

“We’ll make time.”

All he earned was a little smile. Davey’s eyes raked over him– hair to shoes– like he was committing the image of Jack to memory. Jack wondered if he was really ever going to come back from Paris, what with all of the raw hurt in those eyes, posture bent like he’d just been stabbed. What if he never came back? What if this was the last time he’d ever see Davey alone? “Well, guess I’d better–”

Without thinking, Jack lurched forward and tugged him into a tight embrace. Dave made a squeak of a soft sound, but he hugged him back after just a moment of hesitation. It was damp and cold and an awful hug– Jack’s cheek was frigid just from the contact with Davey’s shoulder– but he held tightly because this amazing, intelligent person was leaving his life and it was partially his fault. He’d been oblivious and he’d been a bad friend for not questioning the sadness he knew was there; for brushing it off as a part of Davey that wouldn’t go away. Even if he didn’t want to believe it, this was partially his fault. He really didn’t want Davey to go. He didn’t want to watch another loved one slip through his fingers, and he hugged the man like that might convince him to stay. Like maybe if he gripped Davey’s coat hard enough, he’d pull back and ask to go sit by the fire and warm up. They’d talk about Paris and Jack would talk and talk and talk until he’d convince Dave to just fall out of love with him and stay around, normal like things had been before.

But their normal obviously was never as good for Dave as it was for Jack, and that hurt too. It hurt when Davey sobbed quietly and it hurt because Jack was sobbing, too.

Davey was leaving. No question about it. No embrace could stop that.

And the embrace didn’t stop it. When Davey finally pulled away, minutes or hours later, he smiled a small, broken little smile. “Well. I’d best be off now.”

“Be safe.” Jack whispered, voice breaking.

And Davey nodded. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and made his way down the stairs, walking right into the unforgiving embrace of the storm. Climbed onto that horse and snapped the reins with vigor, disappearing into the night without leaving a trace behind.

Gone. Probably never coming back, despite his promises.

Jack retched. He threw up off the side of the porch and gripped the wood like a lifeline as the grief hit him in full force. Davey was leaving. Just like his parents had, just like everyone seemed to do eventually. Somehow Davey had gone and fallen in love with him, and Jack wanted to hate him for it. He wanted to throttle him for not choosing someone else. Wanted to throttle him for not saying something before Kath got pregnant, before the whirlwind of a wedding, before Pulitzer practically banished them to this stupid, too-big house in the too-empty countryside.

Davey hadn’t even truly left yet. Hadn’t climbed onto a ship with his belongings stuffed into a suitcase. Still, Jack felt the loss. He figured he was going to feel it forever.

#newsies #david jacobs #davey jacobs #jack kelly #livesies #92sies #uksies #sonorouswrites #newsies fanfiction #angst no comfort #canon era #unrequited love #piano player davey jacobs #dad jack kelly #javey #javid #javey newsies #javid newsies

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