#tumble boy newsies

[sk1ttery]

Can you give us some domestic specs house hcs, like what they do on a regular day and just how they interact with each other

HI BESTIE WHAT’RE YOU DOIN HERE /lh

CW for brief mention of abuse.

This is gonna be long.

A little more background on the Specs household:

It consists of Specs, Dutchie, Blink, Skittery, Tumble, Spike (OC) and Elmer.

Dutchie and Specs are adopted brothers who ran away at a young age after Specs’ parents passed. They had a lot of money inherited from Specs’ grandparents and they moved into their old house.

Later, Blink moved in after Specs discovered he was essentially homeless, followed by Skittery and Tumble when they ran away from their abusive house. Then Spike, and then Elmer. Splasher and Finch are honorary members of tbe household due to how much time they spend there because Finch gets lonely and Splasher just likes annoying them. As is my OC Riff, because be spent a month staying with them when he was visiting from New Jersey.

A day in the Specs Household usually consists of whoever’s up first feeding the cats and making breakfast for everyone. They try to eat together but sometimes people sleep in so stuff is put aside for later.

If they don’t have a day out planned or people coming over, they tend to mostly do their own thing and just co-exist as I’ve mentioned before. For example, Blink will sit on the floor in the lounge and play guitar while Specs reads. Skit might be upstairs making jewelry or playing with Tumble. Elmer might be gaming in his room in the loft.

They like to have group hang outs where they’ll play card or board games, or watch movies together. Sometimes, if they have guests over they’ll play Truth or Dare. And people tend to come over a LOT. This is because Specs’ house has an open door policy and a really comforting and safe vibe. (Several other houses also have this vibe). They also enjoy baking and together while blasting showtunes.

Spike isn’t an insanely social person and he gets burnt out/drained super fast, so he and Dutchie tend to spend a lot of time in their room hanging out, but Spike does like to spend time with the others when he’s up for it. He likes the company and likes to lie with Dutchie and nap when everyone else is hanging out.

Quality time, co-existing and having their own spaces is a huge thing in the house. Considering most of them came from toxic situations before moving in, Specs and Dutchie did their best to make the house as accessible and comfortable as possible.

They did this by removing any potential triggers (Throwing out any alcohol, replacing the glasses with plastic cups) and giving the others the space to decorate their rooms to their liking, to make their rooms their own spaces. Specs, Dutchie, Spike, Blink, Skittery and Tumble’s rooms are all on the second floor. The attic/loft has three rooms, Elmers, ans the two spares which Splasher and Finch spend a LOT of time in when they stay.

As far as interactions go, they’re very much like siblings to each other. Skit and Specs will have a lot of light hearted arguments about stuff and try to fight each other which usually ends up with them on the floor. Most of them tend to play fight and rough house a lot but one of the main rules in the Specs Household is about respecting boundaries (like a decent human) so if someone asks to knock it off, they will.

Specs and Skittery can be pretty affectionate at times /p. Platonic hugs and cuddles are a big thing for most of them, though Blink isn’t fond of physical affection. After a bad day sometimes Skittery will come and sit with Specs when he’s reading and just lean on him. Or they’ll go to each others rooms and co-exist for comfort.

On nights where they’re all hanging out in the lounge and getting sleepy, sometimes it’ll end up in a bug cuddle pile. Skit and Spike both like when people but their whole body weight on them/weighted blankets so they always end up on the bottom of the cuddle pile. How they aren’t suffocating?? Who knows.

Elmer is the little brother of the group next to Tumble. (Specs, Dutchie, Skittery and Spike are all 18, Blink is 17, Elmer’s 15 and Tumble is 7). Elmer gets babied a lot which he both hates and loves. On one hand he loves the attention and affection because it’s something he could never recieve at his old house, but on the other, he grew up having to be so independent from a young age its hard for him to get used to.

The little pats on the back, Specs ruffling his hair, Skittery throwing him over his shoulder to put him in ‘Air Jail’ when they’re play fighting. It’s those little interactions Elmer loves.

They have a system for chores. The chores are split between people. For example: Dinner duty changed daily. Mondays Skit would cook, Tuesdays Dutchie, Wednesdays Specs and so on. They try to be healthy with food and people like Dutchie, Spike, Elmer and Skittery would make traditional meals from their home countries. (Dutchie is Dutch, Elmer’s Polish and Spike and Skit are both Ukrainian).

They have a similar system with the weekly grocery shop. One week Specs does it, the next Skittery, then Dutchie and Spike usually go together, then Elmer and Blink. Whenever Elmer and Blink go shopping together, Specs and Skittery have to remind them not to buy anything they don’t need but Blink always gives in and lets Elmer pick up things. Specs and Skit are never actually mad.

On days that no one can be bothered to cook, they’ll just order from the diner and one of the diner boys delivers it to them, or alternatively they’ll go out for food and go to somwhere one of their friends works.

[jack-kellys]

OOUGHGHHHH CAN U MAYBE DO ,, WHO DID THIS TO YOU ,,,, W JAVEY ,,, PLATONIC OR ROMANTIC WHATEVER FITS THE VIBE IDK ,,,,

also unrelated sidenote i accidentally misread "soup for the sick" and thought it said "soup for the dick" and i was like yknow what? yeah sure. before i reread it and realized what it actually said LMFAO

soup for the dick as a bad things happen event.. hmm

ao3 series is here, and u can request a trope from these. let's get into it.

David isn’t one to stay over at the lodge. It’s not a simple thing to head all the way to his family’s small apartment, give them the news, and head all the way back afterward. Usually it’s rather late when he gets the chance to, and consequently hard to prove to his parents why he should stay out instead.

So this time, he doesn’t tell his parents.

Today marks the last day of Jack’s first week as an artist at the World. Sometimes he gets out early enough to sell the evening, or sometimes he goes in late enough to sell the morning. Today was a morning sell day, so David hasn’t seen the boy all day, and he should be seeing him… about thirty minutes ago, approximately. 

David sits on the lodge’s steps inside, feeling like an overgrown weed as other kids tumble up and down past him as they come down for or finish up their suppers. Maybe it’s childish to wait up for the other, and Jack could have easily gotten caught up with something at a place like that with all these fancy people. Maybe Katherine is simply introducing him to some people, or something. 

“I ain’t like it either,” snaps David from his thoughts, and he glances up and behind him at the stairs’ landing. Crutchie’s pulling himself out of the window there, so he must have been up on the roof. He gives David a small smile. “You’re waiting for him, right?”

“Yeah,” David half-grumbles. At this point he and Jack’s…tendencies toward each other were quite apparent with the Lower Manhattan newsies, so he supposes he shouldn’t be too embarrassed about being obvious. “He’s not usually this late, not after office stuff.”

Crutchie bends down with a balance and strength David can only wish he had, pushing his crutch toward David. David crawls up a stair or to and takes it leaving Crutchie free to hop down with the railing. 

“I know,” Crutchie agrees. “And, I mean. He knows this’s the one time to see you today?”

David bites lip, giving a slight nod.

“Then I really ain’t like it,” Crutchie chuckles, though his eyebrows furrow. David smiles his nervous appreciation at the other. “Look, Dave, I’m sure he’ll be here soon. He’s probably thinkin’ all about how you’re sitting here sighin’ to yourself as you stare out the front window.”

“Crutchie,” David mumbles, feeling his face heat up. He’s not as much sighing and batting his eyes as he is gripping the fabric of his slacks and trying to slow his mind down from the top speed it wants to run at. “I’m worried.” 

“Me too,” C assures, tossing an arm over David’s shoulders once he sits himself down. David leans into the other, frowning to himself but glad to no longer wait alone.  

‘Alone’ quickly becomes a luxury as another twenty minutes slips by. The volume in the building has reached its exponential climax upstairs- most of the kids have washed up after dinner and plenty of them will be heading downstairs to the supper tables again to play cards and other games before lights out. 

“Move, Davey!” is demanded of him by 14-year-old JoJo, and David looks up to see her hands on her hips, expectant. Crutchie remains seated, also giving David an expectant look. David does as told. 

Children bounce down the stairs, followed up by Racer, Specs, and Albert, who pause when they see David and Crutchie. 

“Jack ain’t show?” Albert sighs, shaking his head. “Jeez.” 

“I haven’t heard anything from anybody, either,” Specs supplies. “No one’s seen him since the morning edition- not enough to know where he’s at now.” 

So a longer length of time than David had thought. His mind starts running at the speed it wanted to, gaze sliding to Racer’s. They had to start searching.

Racer nods, thankfully reading David’s mind as he heads down the rest of the stairs. “Let’s go, come on.” 

David jumps up instantly, feet wanting to move by now after far too much waiting, but movement outside of the front door stops both of them. 

“Great timing as always, Jackie,” Racer mutters to himself, but the door opens, and it’s Katherine, eyes shockingly wide, door still concealing most of her body.

“Kath?” David says, coming up to the door to open it for her. “You okay? Where’s-”

And then he opens it all the way. 

Jack Kelly is pressed desperately into her side, his arm slung over Katherine’s shoulder as she clearly holds most of his weight. Both his eyes are half closed, one clearly by someone’s hard fist as the bruise around it purples part of his wide nose, smearing half the boy’s face in the color. His lip’s busted, blood only starting to congeal as past drippings of it still line his chin. His cheek’s split, the knuckles David can see are bruised and open, who knows what’s under his shirt, someone's touched his hair. 

David’s stiffened, he realizes, as he knows everyone’s gaze on him. His eyes are only on Jack, blindingly on Jack, edges turning red, especially when Jack grins. 

“Davey…” he says, smiley, too smiley for David’s liking, “you’re still here, ‘s good, good. Wanted to see you, so Kath- Kath go’me here.” 

“Kath,” David says, steely, softly.

“Yep,” she replies, and David takes Jack’s other side, the both of them carrying Jack through the door together in silence, save for Jack’s sharp intakes of air every few steps. 

The thing about the main floor is that it is small and filled with tables. The thing about nearly every bed in the building is that they’re up a flight of stairs. Long ago, David figures, this problem was recognized and a couple mattresses were tossed down the stairs to live in the back of the main floor. This also means David and Katherine are forced to drag Jack’s corpse-looking figure to said mattress, and the last person to occupy it had been Splasher after the strikebreaking.

Every single kid in the building watches as David and Katherine move Jack to the back, eyes huge. Race, Specs, and Albert speed ahead to start pulling tables back and out of the way, and Crutchie follows, speaking softly to a few more vocal newsies to calm them down. It’s more quiet than David’s ever experienced in the usual madhouse of noise the lodge is. 

Slowly, he and Katherine lay Jack down on his back, and Kath immediately turns to him. 

“I just found him like this, right outside the main building,” she says, words hurried and brows crumpled into a deep crease. “I don’t know if someone tossed him there or- or if it happened right out in the open and I had no idea- I- I was working late and I’m- his ribs are busted up too, I checked. I didn’t know how else to- where else to go.”

“Right place,” Race says with a curt nod. “I’m gonna grab Mush, this’s… a whole operation.” 

He zips off, leaving still too many bodies around David and Jack when Jack is hurt and David’s chest is about to fucking burst with the fact. 

“Uh,” he lets out quickly, suddenly, his mouth motoring without his permission. Crutchie, Kath, Albert, Specs, everyone in the room looks at him. “Can you-” David stops himself. He won’t get anywhere if he asks. “Move, guys. Move, for a minute.”

It’s callous, he knows, and demanding, and maybe even unfair. They’re all worried, just like David.

They move. Katherine squeezes his shoulder, and Crutchie gives himself one last look at Jack, but they all move. It’s just Davey and Jack. 

David looks down at the other again, gaze withering. Carefully, his fingers touch the safest parts of Jack’s face, and Jack just barely turns toward him. 

“Who did this to you,” David demands, clear, enunciated, burning.

Jack watches him as much as he’s able, but he deliberately looks away after a few moments, delirious smile dimmed.

“Y’know those’m, those… friends I said I made? At the World?” he mumbles out. His lip quirks, since he’s about to admit something, and David finds a kerchief in his pocket to wipe the boy’s lip quickly. “They.. ain’t my friends, ‘s f’sure, Davey.”

“No they would not be,” David tries to agree softly, but it comes out of his mouth argumentative, maybe. Jack gives him a smile, covering a wince- David catches his hand trying to find his ribs. 

“You look like you’re gonna do something stupid,” Jack hums. 

“I don’t- have.. a look that indicates that,” David spits out. 

“If you’re gonna do it,” Jack continues, and there’s this look in his eye that tells David that Jack is just as angry as he is, “bring someone.”

David brings Race. 

He gets a general description from Jack as the night goes on, Mush having peeled back Jack’s shirt to ice his ribs and stitch up the cut in Jack’s cheek, and Kath points the two boys out to Race and David the next day. It’s kind of a team effort, sure, but to David the effort isn’t done until his fist is in someone’s gut. 

Things have made him feel ugly inside before, it isn’t that unusual for him, but this ugliness is hot and flaming and demanding action. And in the name of the boy David thinks he loves, he’ll let it the hell out. Race’s dark smirk only encourages it. 

He and Race surprise the boys, catching them on their way home. David hasn’t been in many fights since the strike, in all honesty, but he’s had to fend for himself at school as the new resident working boy in his classes. 

David doesn’t let himself think. If he thinks, he’ll stop, and that’s probably the better option, so David has to ignore it. He’s doing the stupid thing, he brought someone, and they screwed up one of Jack’s braids and beat his face in and–

He forgot how much it hurt to hit someone…

David shoves one of the guys into the alley as Race does, and his knuckles find his guy’s nose- once, twice. He earns one to his jaw, and he tries not to reel in surprise, because Race isn’t- Race takes his punch to the ribs he receives and hits back two times quicker as if to erase the action as a whole. 

David isn’t fast in that way, but he’s damn tall, and he takes his target’s shoulders and drives him against the wall, nailing him in the gut while he holds him there. The boy tries to rip David’s grip away, but David practically slams him back as a knee-jerk reaction. His eyes widen at himself, but it’s fine, it’s an opening. He runs his fist into the boy’s cheek. 

“David,” Race hisses after what must be a while, and David’s attention snaps up and over at the other. He nods, and they both drop what they’re doing and scram.

They slow to a quick walk after a few blocks, and Race grins, slapping David’s chest. The boy’s sporting a bruise by his temple, and David thinks he remembers Racer’s head hitting the brick wall.

“You gotta tell Jack! Davey, I never seen you fight like that,” Racer says, beaming at David- proud of him. David can’t help sending a tiny smile back.

“I know that was- uh- well, very reckless, and unbelievably stupid, so,” David sighs out, “thank you.” 

“Yeah, man, I got you,” Race nods. “For Jack, yeah?”

David finds himself nodding, vigorously, not thinking. Not needing to think.

“For Jack,” he echoes. 

The lodge welcomes them back heartily, and David can see Jack sitting up on the mattress in the back, which he should not be fucking doing. He ignores the cheers and rushes over to him.

“What are you doing?” he hisses. “Didn’t Mush say you shouldn’t sit up on your-”

Dark, cherry-colored lips press to his, sudden and silencing. David can feel the cut on Jack’s bottom one with his tongue when he pulls away. 

“You’re nose’s bleedin’” Jack whispers, smirking. David wipes it quickly.

“Uh, sorry,” he lets out, blinking at the other. 

“Did you get ‘em good?” Jack asks, looking up at him, a little differently. Jack’s gaze keeps slipping downward just a tick. David nods slowly.

“I think we did, yeah,” he confirms. “Race was a great help.”

He sits himself next to Jack, even though the boy should really lay down. Instead, Jack shifts himself against David, making himself comfortable. David’s arm slips around his waist.

“You really…care, about me,” Jack says softly. 

“Of course I do,” David nearly scoffs. “Jack. I-”

“This’s something else, Davey, yeah? Somethin’ new?”

David thinks about the burning, and the ugliness- how Jack’s pain had made him feel ugly inside, not just Jack. How he didn’t even think.

“Yeah,” David says. “You okay with it?”

Jack gazes at him again. One of his eyes is officially swollen shut, but the other is wide open, burning with something beautiful.

“Yeah,” Jack smiles. David returns it, without a thought. 

[noxexistant]

ai-less whumptober; day three

@ailesswhumptober 3 — shared trauma, survivor’s guilt, “It’s not your fault.” ↳ october, 1899 word count; 1.5k

cw; sibling death, implied alcohol abuse

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Jack thinks about Michael every day of his life. Maybe that's a good thing. He can't imagine the guilt if he didn't. But he also, really, can't imagine being able to…not. The thinking is one thing, but the nightmares are another.

And then there's the reminders.

Jack is all too aware his brother's death had had witnesses, all those boys watching out of the Refuge windows as they'd hopped the carriage, as Michael had slipped — and witnesses talk. Newsies talk, every shoeshine and street rat in New York talks; there ain't much else to do when they're working dawn 'til midnight or locked up behind those barred windows under Snyder's heel. Everyone knows. But it's one of those things most folk don't dare talk about — not when he's Cowboy, not when he's got the mask of being a leader to hide behind. Folk don't mess with him, though it's not the same way they don't mess with Spot Conlon. It's not fear.

They just…like him. Too much to bring up his dead little brother every time the urge might strike, whether they're pissed off with him — Jack thinks about his photograph, silently torn to shreds after he took the money — or they're just curious.

The Delanceys have no such reservations.

"Hey, Kelly," Oscar calls out from a little way down the alleyway Jack had just turned down. "Happy anniversary."

It's not. It's in a couple weeks. But Oscar's never been good with numbers.

"Fuck off, Delancey," he responds.

It's fucking cold. Too cold for October, too cold to be outside all day, but Jack doesn't have a whole lot of choice. He'd sold like shit, the way he always does in that lull between the cold weather starting and Christmas coming in — it's late and he's only just sold his last pape, he just wants to be done. But there Oscar is, leaned against the wall of the alleyway Jack's trying to cut through to get back to the lodging house, cigarette in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other. He smells like the stuff, but it isn't the sharp, acrid smell of the cheap booze that can usually be found amongst the newsies. It smells good. It looks good.

Oscar grins at him, lopsided. Jack can guess that what's been drained from the bottle has all been drank by him tonight, and his suspicions are confirmed when Oscar brings the bottle to his lips and takes a long, easy drink.

"How long's it been now, eh?" he asks as he draws the bottle away, voice still a little tight as he swallows, utterly casual. "Since Michael. Ten years?"

His tone is lazy, something smug and amused and utterly infuriating in his face. Jack rolls his jaw.

"C'mon, Oscar, get your fingers up. Try an' count it out."

Of all the possible reactions, he isn't expecting Oscar to laugh.

Violence would be expected, normal, but Oscar laughs, the way he usually only does when he's beating someone into the pavement or ruining their day.

It makes something in Jack's gut curl, burning hot and angry.

"Y'know, I really don't get it," he says. "Why you're like this. Why you act like all that time in there was nothin' to you, jus' somethin' to crack jokes about now. I saw you. Every day. Saw you go through Hell with me. An' your little brother."

Oscar takes a slow drag from his cigarette, still sort of smiling around it. One side of his mouth curled up to bare a canine that gets covered when he exhales the smoke into the cold night air.

"Been through worse," he says with a shrug. Takes a swig of his whiskey. "An' clearly I did better in there 'n you did. Got my wee brother out alive an' all."

The noise he makes when Jack throws him into the wall is satisfying, at least. A grunt from deep in his chest as the air is knocked out of him, a dull crack of his head hitting the brick last. His cigarette tumbles to the floor, and Jack takes no small amount of satisfaction in catching it beneath his boot and scraping it hard, mangling it into a spread corpse of tobacco, though Oscar keeps a firm hold on his whiskey.

And then he smiles again, lazier this time.

"You always been jealous."

Jack had seen Morris go through Hell in the Refuge. As much as if not more than Jack himself and Oscar had faced. He'd been tiny when Jack first saw him. A tiny, malnourished little kid who'd clearly been brutalised all his life. For the first few years, Jack had believed Morris to be a lot younger than he is — Michael's age, maybe. Never could've guessed that he's only a few months younger than Jack himself. But Morris was always well looked after by Oscar, regardless of the circumstances in there, or the circumstances of wherever they'd come from. Morris was forever under the protection of his older brother. Oscar, who would start fights with the other boys to wrench their rations from them to give to Morris. Who'd stay awake all night and curl himself around his brother, vicious and protective like a dog, or sit vigil at his bedside to ensure nobody dared come close. Who'd walked out of the Refuge, freshly eighteen, with his hand clasped around his little brother's bony wrist when their uncle had arrived, looking for boys to put to work.

Maybe Jack thinks about them near as much as he thinks about Michael. It's a fact he fucking hates.

He'd compared himself to Oscar at every possible turn as they grew up, confined together, the only other older brother he'd ever known to compare himself to.

He'd wondered, in the wake of Michael's death, if he could've kept him alive, protected him better, if he was only more like Oscar. More vicious, more controlling, more willing to bide his time and take it for as long as he had to until it was over, instead of always having to try and run. Maybe he could've been stronger.

"'M'glad," he says, without. Really thinking about it. Means it, at least. "That you got your brother out."

He's still got Oscar pinned to the wall, leaning his weight against him with hands balled into the worn fabric of his jacket, but finally he forces himself to let go. Staggers a step backwards, skin feeling heavy on his body. Grief feeling heavy on his aching shoulders.

There's a brief stretch of silence. And then Oscar wordlessly holds out the bottle of whiskey between them.

Jack takes it without hesitation, and tips it back to draw a long swig from the bottle. It's good. Rich and warm, burns down his throat right to his empty stomach. Oscar's looking at him.

"You expectin' me to lie to you?" he says, but his voice is softer now. "Tell you it's not your fault?"

Jack shakes his head, and takes another swig, maybe half because he can and half because he's cold. Mostly because he needs it.

"Know it is," he says forcefully. "'Course it's my fault."

It had been October then too, and he knew then how utterly miserable winters in the Refuge were. He'd just wanted to get out before the cold set in, wanted to get him and Michael somewhere they could stay warm. Boys always died during the winter in the refuge. And isn't there a sick irony to that.

"I—" Oscar says suddenly, then stops himself. Swallows, and drops his head back against the brick again, pale eyes looking up at the sky. "Dunno how you kept goin'," he says. "Dunno that I could. 'f Mo…"

Jack swallows too. He can't help but look at Oscar, closer than he usually ever gets to be, something. Sickeningly intimate about the vulnerability in this moment. The older boy looks tired. He looks sad. And then seems to experience his own wave of grief, as if realising in an instant that he's said more than he wanted to — revealed too much, like Jack hasn't already seen everything. Hasn't seen Oscar holding Morris' limp body and screaming. It was just the fact that Morris woke up.

"Fuckin'. Whatever," Oscar mutters. "I gotta get home."

Jack imagines Morris is waiting for him.

It's how it always is, when the two of them are apart. They're just waiting to be reunited, two broken halves of a whole. Oscar goes suddenly, without another word, and Jack watches him walk away with his hands shoved in his pockets, boots crunching. He's still got his own hand around the neck of the bottle that Oscar had left with him. There's still a warmth to it where Oscar had held it.

Jack takes another swig, and starts heading his own way home, trying not to think about Michael waiting for him somewhere.

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 41: A New Beginning?

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

Every minute feels like an hour. I sit and wait, sit and wait. The second Finn walks through the door again I hold up a kitchen knife, ready to strike.

“Alright, Finn,” I start off sternly. “Nobody’s told me anything about what the fuck’s going on, so spill it. Tell. Me. Everything.”

Finn swallows and backs up against the wall. “Okay. Okay. I don’t know too much! There was a deal with the priest that if Tommy blows up a train and robs the Russians then he gets Charlie back. Tommy said to wait to hear from Michael in case he finds Charlie. Now please put the knife down!”

My shaking hand lowers the weapon and lets it clatter to the floor. “None of this feels right, Finn,” I murmur distantly. “All of this is forced too fast. The train, the robbery… Haste makes waste.”

Finn pauses and reaches to put a hand on my shoulder. “You alright?”

“I… I’m scared. For everyone,” I choke out.

“You’re taking all of our own stress on yourself, Verena.”

“It’s Charlie!” I gasp. “I cannot calm down when there is a child involved!”

Ring! Ring!

The phone makes us both jump. Finn snatches the receiver and I hang on to every second.

“Hello? Yeah. He did? Yeah. Right away.” He sets the phone down and sprints for the door. “Michael killed the priest! Charlie’s safe now! I gotta go tell ‘em before they blow up the train!”

Thank Christ! Praise the angels, Charlie is safe! Enough with all this talk of sabotage and robbery. The next time I see Thomas I have some select words about this violence! But I can’t be too harsh. The poor man just got his son back- But he doesn’t know yet!

“I’m coming with you!” I jump to my feet and follow Finn to the car.

“No you’re-!” He stops when he sees the murderous look in my eyes. “Alright, fine.”

We jump in the car and burn rubber to speed towards the train tracks. Everything is happening so fast! The only thing keeping me from vomiting is the fact that Charlie is safe. Finn takes a sharp turn and I’m thrown against the window. Through the glass I see the train making its way past the tower. Are we too late?

Finn gets out and we both sprint across the tracks to shout at Arthur.

“Arthur! Wait! Charlie’s safe-!”

Boom!

The explosion knocks me down and I trip on my skirt, tumbling against the cold metal. I lift my head to see shards of steel, rock, and fire rushing straight at me. I feel Finn throw himself over me and we wait for the wave of fire to pass. 

“Holy Christ…” I gasp.

The only thing remaining from the train is its flaming metal skeleton. No one could pick apart any survivors from the rubble. 

Finn helps me up and I see Arthur and John waving from the building. They pull out cigars and despite my urge to return to the house I can’t forget what just happened. These lives did not need to be taken. All of this evil surrounds the priest, whom I hope has witnessed a brutal fate. 

I run back to the car and pull it around for the Shelbys to climb inside. I push the accelerator and Finn tries to explain as we weave through the dark streets.

“Michael killed the priest. He’s got Charlie. He’s headed back to Watery Lane- Slow down!”

“I’m not stopping until I see Charlie!” I say firmly and pull up to the house.

We burst through the door and the sight nearly makes me collapse in relief. Charlie, sweet Charlie, is cradled safely in Ada’s arms. Smiling like nothing ever happened. Michael looks dazed too and Polly knows. She knows the sin he committed to ensure Charlie’s return.

“Charlie!” I cry when Ada hands him to me, immediately resting his head on my shoulder. “Darling boy! We missed you!”

“Daddy?”

I hold back happy tears and nod shakily. “Yes, daddy is on his way.”

He doesn’t know. Doesn’t know how close he came to being taken. I pray that Charlie never remembers this night.

Ada and I take him to the kitchen to be fed. Lord knows when he ate last or if that bastard gave him anything. Charlie takes one bite of bread and starts devouring it. Deep breath, Steenstra. He’s here. He’s here.

“Verena!” Polly yells from the hall. “Bring Charlie over! It’s Tommy!”

I pick Charlie up and race him across the room, swinging him to provoke more laughter. Thomas must be worried sick!

“Charlie, say hi to daddy,” I say sweetly and hold up the phone.

Charlie coos into the receiver and I hear Thomas cry in relief.

“Charlie? Hey, there’s my boy. Are you tired?” Charlie babbles a response and I can tell Thomas must be smiling. “You go to bed now, eh? I love you. Goodnight… Verena?”

I hold the phone to my ear, still bouncing Charlie. “I’m here, Thomas.”

“Thank you.”

“Please come home. He misses you.”

“I will, I will,” he pants. “Bring him to Arrow House.”

“Affirmative.”

Despite Polly’s begging to make me wait until morning, I pack a small bag and instruct Finn to bring a car out for me. I secure Charlie in the front seat and smoothly depart for Warwickshire, a complete contrast to the reckless driving I demonstrated an hour ago. It’s barely dawn when we ride down the driveway and my eyelids feel incredibly heavy. But I never stop. Mary helps me get Charlie settled in bed and I finally sink into a large armchair. With a blank mind and glazed eyes I stare at his bedroom door across the hall. The sun has barely risen…

Ring! Ring!

Thomas?! I flinch out of my sleepiness and fall to the floor. I crawl to the table and grip the phone.

“Hello?”

“Am I right to guess that this is Ms. Steenstra?” A familiar voice asks. “This is Alfie Solomons. Has Mr. Shelby’s son been cared for?”

Solomons. The man Michael told me is the reason Thomas’ original plan failed. The events that transpired to Charlie being put in danger.

“If you know my uncle it must be on bad terms,” I speak darkly, confining all the sharp cusses wanting to fly off my tongue. “Edmund Colon would never be allies with a man who’s obsessed with wealth.”

“He runs a business, same as I.”

“For the people,” I hiss. “My uncle supplies help to those who need it, for a price. He doesn’t cross between sides for profit. He chooses the good side.”

Seconds of silence. “You don’t seem like the type to follow Tommy Shelby around,” Mr. Solomons observes.

“His morals are far above yours. When children are involved we draw the line. You do not. Good day, Mr. Solomons.”

I hang up the phone and collapse on the carpet. No more threats. Charlie is safe. Thomas is coming back. All is well… My eyelids fall shut and my melted thoughts send me off to sleep.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Loud footsteps shake the floor and startle me awake. Floorboards creak next to me and someone shakes my shoulder. I peel my hair away and see Thomas staring at me with wide eyes.

“Charlie?” He whispers.

“Yes,” I answer softly and point to his room. “I don’t know if he’s still asleep. He’s fine. Not a scratch, I made sure.” I get to my feet, trying to wake up. “I’ll be downstairs.”

Thomas squeezes my arm and pulls me into the child’s room. Inside a maid sits playing with Charlie, who looks up at his father with a wide grin. Thomas scoops him up and holds Charlie so tight as if he’ll disappear. Kissing his cheek and trying to control his labored breathing. Just like last night Charlie has no inkling of how relieved his father is to see him.

“Thank God. Thank God,” Thomas murmurs.

“Daddy? Okay?” Charlie asks, confused.

“He’s really happy to see you,” I smile at the heartwarming scene. “Are you hungry, Charlie? Want some breakfast?”

“Yeah!”

“Then you shall have some,” Thomas says and carries him out, down the stairs to the dining room. 

“Are you hungry, Thomas?” I ask while we wait for Mary.

He hugs Charlie again and shakes his head. “I will not rest until everything is tied up. The duchess and I have one last transaction to meet over and then I’m calling a family meeting.”

Mary walks in with a tray for Charlie. He starts eating the cut pears and suddenly Thomas pulls me out into the hall. 

“Thomas wha-?” 

He sits me down onto a bench, kneels down, wraps his arms around me and buries his head in my chest. I go stiff as a board and desperately try to think of what to do with my hands. Push him off? Hug him? Rub his head?

“A-Are you okay?” I stutter.

“Just… Just need someone to tie me down,” he murmurs. “Clear my head.”

The image of the snickering duchess flashes through my memory. “I thought you’d-”

“She’s not you,” Thomas reads my mind. “You want to listen, she just wants to fuck.”

“Oh,” I try to respond to his bluntness. “Okay. Please tell me that after today the duchess is gone?”

Thomas lifts his head to look at me. Those blue eyes that once held worry and fear now stare at me with calmness. “Off to Vienna. To marry, I assume. Jealous?”

My breath hitches. “Jealousy causes viciousness. I try to stay clear of that.” Not exactly a no. 

Thomas’ gaze turns distant and he leans his head down again. “They had him…”

“Shh.” I run my fingers through his soft hair. “Charlie’s alright. He’s safe and sound. He slept like an angel, and has the appetite of a newborn.”

“‘S my fault, I should’ve-”

“Thomas.” I hold his head in my hands and make him look up. “You need to decide. Are you a Peaky Blinder or a father? You know how your father turned out. Do you want to end up like him?”

“No,” he answers quickly.”

“Then stop digging too deep. Dig any further and the foundations will crack.” I pause for a second. “What if you stopped?”

“Hm?” Thomas’ brow creases and he presses his lips together. 

“You and Charlie stay here at Arrow House for good. Where no one’s pointing a gun at you. Away from the violence.”

Thomas lifts his head, standing us both up with his arms still around me. “My life is centered around my family, Verena. If I stay here I’ll be leaving them behind. Violence will always follow me.”

If he keeps this up there will be none of his family left.

Knock knock.

Mary stands at the end of the hall. “He wants you, Mr. Shelby.”

“Thanks, Mary. He’ll be right out,” I call and look back at Thomas with a wise gaze. “Breathe. Charlie’s fine, we’re all fine. God is with us.”

He stares down, mouth slightly gaping. “Verena. Thank you.”

A gentle smile grows on me. “I’ll always listen.”

Thomas takes a second to let me go, as if forgetting he was still holding me, and strides back to the dining room. Is this the beginning of how things fall into place? That I can express my feelings and he will listen for a change? 

A fresh shower is in order to clear my head. As I wander to the bathroom I can’t stop the tsunami of hope rushing into me. Charlie is safe. The company is profiting. Everything is being tied up. Is this the start of something new? Granted, Thomas is right in thinking that violence will always plague the Peaky Blinders. Still… One can have hope.

@meadows5

[hexmari]

Do you have any headcannons for skittery or tumbler?

Rubbing my hands together like an evil little fly rn…

I headcanon Skittery and Tumbler as biological brothers. This is partly because of the hug they share in 92sies, and partly because @chaosfairy18’s writes them as so and I really liked it—

They were born in America seven years apart and were orphaned when Tumbler was 3 and Skittery 10. Their father died due to a work place incident and their mother became ill and passed away. They’d been newsies before that but that’s when they moved into the lodging house.

Tumbler gets his name from basically being a good tumbler. He can do perfectly cartwheels and summersaults. His name can also having a double meaning of just being generally rough-and-tumble.

Skittery gets his namesake from his symptoms of low level schizophrenia. He’ll often get “skittish” and while the other boys try to help, it’s 1899 and they aren’t sensitive to mental health issues.

Skittery is often worried that his mental health with deteriorate to much to look after his little brother but he never expresses this thought outwardly.

[wren-is-a-wreck]

As promised: pt 2 of my Javey fic (I put a bit more than last time!) part 1 is here

David woke up in his bed to the sounds of knocking on his window. It was storming wildly outside, huge bolts of lighting and claps of thunder that lit the whole bedroom. Davey rubbed his eyes awake, checking if Les was awake. It seemed he’d already gone to stay with their parents for the night. It wasn't the loud thunder Les was afraid of. It was the sheer force of the wind and rain against the house. Davey didn’t blame him. The storm was the worst they’d seen for a while, especially in the city. He just hoped it stopped by tomorrow, so the newsies didn’t have to worry about being electrocuted or drowned on land.

That’s when he heard it again, frantic knocking coming from his window, followed by a muffled voice saying something he couldn't hear over the water pouring down. He rushed over to his window just as another bolt of lightning struck, illuminating the familiar silhouette of a hat. Jack? Here? At this hour? Davey hurriedly forced the window open, letting a soaked Jack tumble through the window to splat on the floor in a cold, wet heap.

“What are you doing? Running around New York at this hour of night? And in this storm-Jack what were you thinking?”

“I try not ta think too hard about most things, but I was mostly focused on tryin not ta drown while runnin.”

“Are you okay? I know you live with Crutchie. Is everything okay with him? He's not hurt?”

“Nah. Crutchie’s fine. His damn leg told him it was gonna storm, so he beat me to the lodging house, along with every otha’ newsie in Manhattan.”

Davey held out hand to the soggy Jack, who was still laying on the floor shivering from the cold. Jack looked at his hand questioningly for a moment, then accepted the other boy’s offer.

“Look Davey, I'm real sorry I came to your house in the middle of the night. It was a real stupid idea, and I can leave if you want me gone. I was hopin that you were awake, with all this thunder and all, but I can tell you weren't. Im sorry”

Davey looked up into Jack’s face, shocked. “Jack, you know you're always welcome here, middle of the night or otherwise!” He looked Jack up and down, then tapped his chin in thought. “Let's get you something dry to wear, and then find you somewhere to sleep, yeah?”

Jack was in the Jacobs bathroom, changing out of his soaked clothes into a shirt of Davey’s, and some thick socks. He was much warmer now than he was when he fell through the window. He still felt terrible for waking Davey up, however surprised he was that Les was still sleeping. Jack opened the door, and padded back to the boy’s bedroom. Davey was sitting on the edge of the bed, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. When Jack stood in the doorway awkwardly, he beckoned him into the room.

"Where's Les?” Jack asked, as he looked around the room taking in the coziness of it all. There were stacks of books everywhere, most likely Davey's doing, along with stuffed animals and small shirts, which was definitely all Les.

“He's sleeping with my parents for the night. He doesn't like the sound of the wind.”

Jack nodded, and sat down next to the blue-eyed boy. Davey looked absolutely exhausted, and his usually tidy curls were a mess.

“Alright, Dave, what's the plan? I don't want to keep you up any longer. No offense, you look like death.”

Davey shoved Jack’s shoulder playfully, then looked at the floor nervously. “I don't know how my folks would take knowing you came here in the middle of the night, so I think the only place my parents won't find you before either of us wakes up is here. You can take Les’ side of the bed. If you want.”

Jack was too tired to argue. And besides, newsies shared beds all the time. It was one of the problems with not having enough room in a small building for a bunch of rowdy teen boys.

“Sounds great, Dave,” Jack said as he rested his head on the other boy’s shoulder. He seemed to tense, then relax under Jack’s cheek.

“You do need to get off of me if we're going to get any sleep, you know.”

Jack groaned, then lifted himself shakily off of his friend. The two boys settled into bed next to each other, both staring at Davey’s ceiling.

I’m so sorry if this one was a bit long… but there’s more! Again let me know if you want to read it

[loving-jack-kelly]

13???🔥🔥🔥🔥

13: worst blorbo-ification

the way the newsies fandom treats crutchie morris will never not be infuriating. it's definitely gotten better i want to say since uksies/matthew ducket made the choice to make him more obviously rough and tumble like the rest of the boys, but good god. let crutchie be more than the sunshine happy best friend to jack. let him be his own person and not just your cheerful little optimist <3

[newsies-newsreport]

99 things I've noticed in newsies live, but I'm autistic, Part 1:

Feel free to rewatch newsies live and play bingo

1. For some reason, Jack and Crutchie seemed to be sleeping on the fire escape or the roof of some kind

2. The lighting is amazing! The blue lights with an orange background (which is kinda like Jack is blue and Crutchie is orange) but it also show sunrise.

3. This is so random but I know they make the newsies shave their facial hair to seem younger but they made Jeremy Jordan shave under his arms as well.

4. The watch me stand bit is the only part of the musical for the next 30 minutes Andrew isn't smiling

5. Sky and Ben's voices

6. Mush/Nick checking out Albert's/Sky's ass.

7. Finch appears out of nowhere just to yell at Albert

8. Sky seemed to have trouble with his suspenders so they just cut half of it out

9. Buttons had his hat in this back pocket idk if that's important

10. Mike and Ike switch hats and so do Henry and Mush on the other side

11. Crutchie polishing his crutch with his vest

12. Why does Mush have a stick?

13. Buttons scratching his head, the dude has unlimited fleas

14. Buttons just letting the newsies do whatever, also Chaz having to flitch his eyes when Iain throws his had over his eyes, like he's going to hit him

15. Anthony hitting Chaz's head so gently, like bro, what happened in rehersals for them to be so gentle with the dude

16. Specs jumping off the platform

17. Jack tieing Crutchies shoe and sniffing his feet

18. Crutchie stealing Finch's slingshot and shooting him, when Finch comes back to get him, Jack spins him.

19. Tommy boys little skips before Finch's line

20. Henry just disappears from beside Jack as a guy does

21. Smalls and Blink carrying Crutchie, plus, Andy Richardson and Julian DeGuzman are some of the shortest newsies, they were quite literally the exact same height.

22. Iain Young is so much taller than I thought, when you see them all line up before the bridge, you notice he's just as tall as Jordan and Jeremy. Also his hair is so curly I love it

23. Crutchie helping out give out the coffee

24. So unrelated, they probably didn't give Kid Blink an eyepatch because it was a safety hazard. With all the dancing

25. Elmers voice and character in general, he's obviously supposed to be one of the younger newsies

26. Ben's voice

27. Also, Jojo, aka Joshua Burrage just looking off into space, I think he was either looking at a specific audience member or the exit, dude wants to escape

28. Buttons still has fleas, someone help that dude lmao

29. The twins have 0 lines in the whole musical other than ensemble singing

30. Elmer again, just him.

31. Sky's curtain bangs

32. Jeremy encouraging Jordan before his big tumbling solo

33. Also Jordons face omg he's so sweet

34. Jacks goofy walk

35. Why did he punch Crutchie???

36. Crutchie punching Jack back is so funny

37. The twins are quite literally gone, like, they disappear so much in the musical, do they play another character I haven't noticed yet or???

38. Smalls on Henry's back

39. I just noticed which one was Oscar which one was Morris, I always assumed the one with the vest was Oscar cause he was taller and Oscar is the oldest? But no, the one with the suspenders is Oscar, and I swear I'm not the only one that has made that mistake.

40. Jack grabbing Oscars hat

41. Fun fact, Oscar and Morris are Weasles nephews.

42. Literally all Oscar did was push Race slightly cause he was in his personal space, and Morris decides to throw Crutchie to the ground for no reason, Oscar then has to rush over to stop any fight between Race and Morris because his brother was being a moron. Poor Oscar ends up with a crutch to the shin even though he did nothing wrong. Poor bastard did nothing wrong so far lmao.

43. Romeo grabbing his shin like he's the one that got hit

44. Albert carrying Crutchie

45. The Delanceys run into eachother and Oscar let's Morris go down the stairs first.

46. Jack joining in on the jumps

47. Did Les steal a newspaper or a bag, I can't tell? Nvm he just took a bag

48. Albert just disappears after he gets his paper, he also didn't pay.

49. Jordans (Specs) face during 50/50 bit

50. Micheal Dameskis little part in the reprise, literally he's so talented

51. Also Finch in the background already selling

52. Nunzio never finished Pulitzers hair, he just went on to his beard

53. The jazzy twist on "once again is mine" is literally so satisfying

54. Some of the newsies gambling

55. Race just reading in the background

56. When Jack is hugging Miss Medda and they zoom into Les and Davey you see a newsie walking with a woman, it seems like they cut abit of it because it changes character, I can't tell which newsie but I think it's Kid Blink

57. Also Mush just there moving scenery

58. The bowery beauties flying kisses to Davey is literally so cute

59. Davey and Jack looking at eachother when Medda mentions she knows the governor, like "Does she mean-" "Yep-"

60. How does Kara move up and down ladders with that huge ass skirt

61. Katherine gestures to the audience when she says, "go tell them" because the audience are the only people that seem to care about Jacks story

62. Jack starring at Katherine's ass when he said the view is better

63. Jack drew on a news paper

64. Mike and Ike cartwheeling into the darkness and don't come back until seize the day

65. Davey wasn't even late?? Like they didn't even put up the headline?? In Carrying the banner they didn't even let in the newsies before they put up the headline

66. Oscar and Morris actually interested in the conversation cause they probably don't have a mother either

67. I imagine alot of the newsies can't read or do math so that probably why Albert both read and explained how the prices went up

68. Jojo being the only one that doesn't seem to care??? Like he's smiling even at Crutchies "sleeping on the street" comment

69. Specs Fidgeting with his bag

70. Tommy boy making sure he does have a shirt on, not Jack gaslighting him

71. Tommy boy also running away from Les

72. You don't see it but Mush hits Race with his hat, you see him take it off after Race says "can't you smell smoke" then it zooms on Jack and you hear a hitting sound then you see Race holding his arm when he walks back to Jack

73. Les escaping from Davey

74. Also why did Davey try and leave??? Where was he gonna go??

75. I like how the newsies suddenly change their minds and agree to be part of the strike when Jack calls them membership when before they really didn't want to

76. (Skipping world will know) Mushs face when Davey say "Auspicious" also one of his legs on the chair, like dude, sit on the chair

77. Jojo has a rip in like trousers

78. Tommy boy putting on his hat just to not go to Brooklyn, Mush and Buttons doing the opposite

79. Crutchie playing dead

80. Davey not doing anything

81. Davey saying "i got to take care of my mom"

82. All the boys checking out Kathrine, especially Albert, like, dudes putting on his entire rizz

83. Ben/Race checking out Kara/Katherine's ass

84. Tommy's reaction to being called a ragamuffin

85. Specs saluting Kathrine

86. Race checking out her ass AGAIN like dude

87. Tommy nodding alittle when Kathrine asks if they think they have a chance, but the dude was one of the scabbers

88. Albert just being completely dead inside

89. Jesus christ are Nicks eyes blue like, you can see them from here

90. Kathrine still checking out Romeos ass

91. Also I just realised that Romeo doesn't even know the story of Romeo and Juliet so doesn't understand his nickname

92. Smalls pulling himself up on the table

93. Everybody excited about being on the front page, Albert: 😐

94. Not Jack trying to Rizz up Kathrine

95. It actually works at some point

96. Is Jack drunk, like, is this an acting choice by Jeremy or is the character actually drunk?

97. Kathrine is so cute, like, her character is so badly written but Kara made her amazing

98. Skip to before seize the day. "Them brooklyn boys is big" "yeh and Spot-...was impressed" I swear they are making fun of his height here

99. "Are we?" Finch really doesn't want to be part of this strike

[leading-manhattan]

Requesting some 'Walk Until We Fall' for a belated WIP Wednesday please!

I don't know if I got this right but I'm pretty sure that I'm supposed to write some more for that story and then publish the addition, right?

It's a bit longer than three sentences but eh, it's more fun that way.

They were experiencing a heatwave, not nearly as bad as back in '96— thank God— but still bad enough that it wasn't safe to be trapped out in the heat for more than an hour at most. It's been at least ninety-something degrees outside recently so Jack was sure to stress before they even left the lodging that no newsie should be out longer than they had to be. Weather like this was dangerous and they all needed to be careful. It wouldn't be anything new for kids like them to die unnoticed out in the city and Jack wasn't willing to comb the streets for his friends' corpses today. Then some of the littles got hurt. Nothing bad, just a rough tumble that ended with a twisted ankle and a set of badly sprained wrists. It wasn't anything that wouldn't heal but the poor kids were stumbling and whining when they went to pry themselves out of bed the next morning. It was enough that Jack felt the need to bench them both. It wouldn't do the kid any good to be walking on that ankle and the other boy managed miraculously to hurt both wrists so waving around papers wouldn't exactly be smart either. It was fine for a kid to be faking sick to get some extra cash but Jack didn't want any of his boys to actually hurt themselves if they didn't have to. Unfortunately, that meant that someone else needed to spend more time outside in the heat. It couldn't be helped. During the strike they shorted Kloppman enough since they hadn't been making anything and the man couldn't avoid to spot them boarding while they were still paying off that debt. It would be easy, really, if all the boys just grabbed a few more papers for the day. They should be able to scrape enough together to pick up the slack but Jack doesn't like the idea of anyone being caught out under the scorching sun like that. There haven't been enough bodies out on the streets as is, everyone was flooding inside to escape the overbearing blaze that's been ruthlessly cooking New York. It's been difficult enough to sell their own papers and a few extra could be deadly regardless of if they needed the money. So Jack takes it upon himself to carry the extra weight. He doesn't tell the littles to stay home until everyone else is already barreling out of the room and he lingers near the back of line so no one notices when he buys fifty more papes than he had the day before. These boys were his responsibility and he'd take care of them no matter what.

[riding-palominos-every-day]

Headcanons:

- Probably a better street performer than newsboy. He attracts customers with stunts like juggling or tumbling then tries to sell them a paper, but half the time he gets money just for his entertainment alone

- He misses the circus sometimes. He and his aunt have a good relationship, and she's quietly supportive when he's having a particularly bad day thinking about his old life or his parents

- He hates seeing other newsies unhappy, if someone's sad he does his best to cheer them up with his circus tricks. It usually works, but if it's clear he can't fix the problem he'll get Jack

- Loves recounting stories from the circus to the other boys. He's incredibly smug that he's seen animals none of them ever have (Mush still isn't convinced elephants are real)

[skautism]

for the writing req thing you posted!!! "Can't believe you woke me up at 5:00 for this." "Oh, come on! Where's your sense of fun, huh?"

i wrote what was supposed to be really subtle ralbert but that fell through cuz i missed them <:3 theres mild references to period typical homophobia but other than that this is just banter and fluff. i had fun with the fact that alberts trading card says he lives with his brothers and dad for this :3

——

He stuck his head out the window, and checked the temperature and sky. The night was surprisingly cool, in spite of it being August, and Racetrack Higgins was up way too late.

At this rate, he was up way too early, but for the first time in a while, he was up this late for a purpose. He’d head out soon, and smoked through part of his cigar as he waited to be sure it was safe. The sky was clear and he was about to be on a (rather silly) mission.

Finally, Race slipped out the lodge. Hauling ass as quietly as possible through the neighborhood, he fumbled shut the buttons on his shirt. He glanced this way and that, as nervous excitement rattled through him. He may have known the streets as well as any newsie, but that didn’t negate any potential trouble from being out this late.

Although depending on the “trouble”, Race might consider the lecture he’d get from Kloppman (or Jack) worse.

Race wasn't deterred by any of the risks though, as he gazed up at the sky with intent and made his way to Albert’s.

Have you ever heard the myth that if you wake up in the middle of the night for no reason, something is watching you? Race wouldn’t know, he’s usually the perpetrator. He stared into the window, backlit by the moon in a way that would make you wish he had reflective eyes. Finally, he slid open the window and clambered through.

After longer than expected, Albert stirred as Race hovered over him, snapping him from staring at Albert’s still-furrowed brow. He grinned, and Albert returned a scowl from his side.

“Goooood morning,” he whispered louder than necessary, dropping onto his best friend’s back. “How’d ya sleep?”

“I was sleeping fine,” he grumbled, and rolled onto his stomach.

“Was it a wonderland of lamb an’ pretty girls?”

“I'm never livin' that down, huh." Albert groused. "What time is it?”

“‘Bout 5,” and Albert felt Race grin wider as he said it, because he knew damn well he was tormenting him. He reached back, swatting at him, the pair flailing and wheezing in laughter as they did their best not to disturb the rest of the household.

Eventually, they calmed and Race draped himself over Albert’s whole body, which in turn brought back that nervous excitement from earlier.

“There’s a meteor shower, ya wanna watch it?”

“That’s what you got me up for?”

“Didn’t’cha see it in the weather today?”

“That's not weather!”

Racetrack headbutted Albert from behind, Albert only managing to stifle a noise of protest by jamming his face into the pillow.

They continued play-fighting, and somehow never moved from the uncomfortable position, at least until something shifted from across the small room. Albert smacked Race into stilling.

“If you wake up my brothers I’m kicking you out,” he hissed.

“And I'll drag you with me! Can't'cha just watch the stupid meteor shower, Albie?”

Albert huffed and sat up, tipping the two of them backwards before he crawled out the window onto the small platform. Race followed in tow, still not bothering to shut the window.

Albert laid back on the floor, and surely enough, every few seconds, small pinpricks of light flew across the sky. It was a pretty sight, he admitted to himself. Race sat next to him, absent-mindedly tangling his hand into Albert’s hair.

The gentleness compared to the borderline chaos a few moments ago would’ve stunned just about anyone that knew either boy. Constant idle touching may have been normal for the newsies, but around others Race and Albert were closer to the rough-and-tumble side of things. It didn't help that everyone knew getting too close at the wrong time could risk you everything, but it was too early for it to matter yet.

Race didn’t actually know what Albert’s family thought, come to think of it. Regardless, they probably wouldn’t appreciate him sneaking Albert out over stars. Pushing the thought aside, he tugged Albert’s head into his lap without ever breaking his gaze with the sky.

“Can’t believe you woke me-” Albert broke off with a yawn, “-up at 5:00 for this,”

“Oh come on! Where’s your sense of fun, huh?” Race retorted, glancing down for once.

Albert huff-laughed and gently smacked the side of Race’s face, before he lurched upwards to point at the sky. “Holy shit! Did you see that!?”

Race managed to look up just in time to see an enormous shooting star crashing down before vanishing, as he gasped in delight.

“I told you this was worth it!” he exclaimed, throwing all cares of "quiet" out the window.

“No you didn’t. D’you think anyone else got to see that?”

Race shrugged and grinned like a fucking madman. “Where d’ya think it landed?”

Albert thought for a moment before he pantomimed writing on a chalkboard. “‘Space rock crushes rich jerk’s garden!’”

“’s too early for headline shit…” Race yawned. “Y'wanna come back to the lodge with me? Done it before.”

Albert glanced over towards the window, and wondered for a moment if their ruckus had woken anyone up. “Might need to.”

Race nodded, but didn’t move beyond continuing to pet his boyfriend’s hair.

Albert nuzzled into the gentle touch as he got a glimpse of the clock inside. 5:45 AM. "I think we'll need to head out soon if we don't wanna deal with Crutchie being a fucking early bird."

"Y'really think he gets up this early?"

"How should I know? I only hear it from you and Jack."

Race scoffed and stood up to stretch. "Ready to go now?"

“Lemme get my shoes,” he said, and headed through the window.

Race rested on the railing as he waited, wondering if anyone else was up yet. Maybe for the same reason he was, to get comfort without worrying about prying eyes and side-glances as best, and the worst that he didn’t want to think about.

He pulled himself out of his thoughts as Albert returned from the window, who actually shut the thing. “Ready?” Albert asked.

Race nodded and offered his arm as a joke, grinning. Surprisingly, Albert took it, even though they had to detach not far down the road.

The pair snuck back into the lodging house, everyone else thankfully still asleep, and crawled under the thin sheet of Race’s bunk to get a single hour of sleep before the morning bell.

[newmsies]

Can we start in this fandom that Race is really into rocks? I don't know why I want him to be into rocks, but I feel like he would be.

absolutely we can.

he would try to find every type of rock by making Spot take him to Coney Island, so far in his collection he has Agates (Igneous&Sedimentary) Jasper (Metamorphic) Hag stone (can't remember) and Petrified Wood (Sedimentary)

all of which are ones you can find at beaches which means it's perfect that he's friends with some of the Brooklyn boys, he has a lot of each and will show them off to his friends, he has exactly one that's tumbled that the Newsies saved up for to get him for his birthday one year and i feel like he would just hold it in his mouth and idk why, he just would

[jack-kellys]

i said i’d post more notes so here are some MORE uk notes, organized enough for u to skip to whichever part u wanna read first. main hits in order are:

1. delanceys as a whole actually

2. jack and physicality (bodily and visually)

3. davey and leaders

4. ensemble notes at the end. here we go!

also all my other analyses so far r linked at the bottom <3 go look

~the delancey brothers!~

so help me i love these guys. i hate them so much and i rly don’t think they’ve been this evil before, like i think. they were more of a cartoonish school bully kind of threat.. but like. nah dude. these are strikebreakers. and they act like it.

they are both taller than essentially all of the newsies except davey. which idt has been true in the past but is significant based on the fact that jack kelly is usually cast always under 5’10 i THINK.. to show he’s still a kid. these delanceys just look bigger, and are older. they don’t interact as much with anyone wearing knickers instead of full-length pants. except.

when each newsie goes up to grab their papers, oscar does a different mean thing to LITERALLY EACH ONE OF THEM. he’ll drop them, or fake a kid out (his fake out w/ buttons has made me jump each time i’ve sat close enough in woodside LMAO he nearly hits him!!), or hold the papers away from them, or push them into their chest. or just give them a sneer. like he is just awful LMFAO

another thing is that they smile very easily when they are doing horrible things. it’s so fucking cool HAHAH but ok lemme go chronologically i’ll speak on dis later

when jack is writing up on the chalkboard, he’s not fighting some guy- it’s oscar, dude. jack and oscar literally go at it, and jack is so physical in this show so when he’s fighting his whole body is fighting. jack shoves oscar down onto the stairs, oscar gets up and tries to grab him but jack SHOVES HIS ENTIRE FOOT into oscar’s stomach and literally pushes him with everything he’s got and oscar tumbles into the stairs, knocking more wind out of him, and is coughing and shit all while “strike!” goes up on the board. god. it rly is the way jack has to put his whole body into making sure oscar can’t get up… it must be an even fight normally

when -5 newsies show up to the gate and they have the “ahh oscar we got bum information” it’s like… they don’t have to intimidate to intimidate. “my skull bustin’ arm” isn’t cartoonish, bro, it’s a fucking fact. and then oscar just laughs, and it’s not evil it’s like bc this is genuinely fun and amusing to him that they are going to kick some kid ass. man!

and then they do i mean i think it’s brass knuckles to the face that take crutchie out… they might kick him too. idr i’m watching all the kids run for their lives during the fight tbh.

MORE IMPORTANTLY, THEY SHOW UP WITH BATS. and it’s not like. a little stage combat bop to the face via a wrist motion— morris at least is swinging with two hands at these kids like he’s tryna hit a home run. it’s choreographed well obv, so he doesn’t even have to slow his swing it’s literally a straight up… if a kid got hit with that they’d be down for the rest of the strike. period bro. it’s kinda fuckin terrifying.

act 2 baby! pulitzer’s office. when pulitzer is extorting jack, when he says “oh, but it’s not right to condemn that little cr*ppled boy to conditions like those…” oscar. fucking. looks over to his brother. and smiles. no it was not a one night thing either. it is every. time. pulitzer mentions crutchie. and it’s chilling, it’s slow and knowing and BAD ASF !! then they haul jack off.

he’s taken upstage behind the scaffolding towers while pulitzer sings the rest of the reprise, but there’s enough light to see what’s going on between the three of them. and what’s going on is that jack is held to the wall while the delanceys take turns punching him. like. whole-shoulder-into-it hits. in the ribs so no one can visually see. oh. my. god. they wrench him downstage and toss him to the ground, jack actually falling and sliding (unlike….proshot where jerjor stumbles to the ground ig) onto his stomach during “we’ve been given discretion..” (discretion only, which is why they rough jacks up privately as he technically hasn’t given the brothers a reason to smack him around..) jack looks like he’s about to get up when my perhaps my favorite detail in the show happens. everyone listen closely:

oscar puts his foot down, on jack’s shoulder. his right shoulder. the shoulder of which fic writers and headcanoners for years have been including as some place where jack has chronic pain after an injury. and michael does a few shoulder moments through the show if you’re really looking (not as obv as jerjor but more natural maybe) and like. and oscar stands on it and pushes jacks back to the ground. holy FUCKING SHIT! ITS!!!! ITS THERE!!! our fucking!! the Thing!!!!! the fucking lore bro like does oscar know it’s sensitive for jack… duuuude. evil delanceys best delanceys

anyway they literally rock. pay attention to them onstage if u can! also the actors r quite funny together and they often do a bull-and-cape bows choreo thing w/ george running thru alex’s mimed cape <3

speaking of jack though, …jack!!

im not making this up jack does tilt davey’s chin up at some point i just don’t remember when… it has to be sometime on seize the day. it’s.. i don’t think i’m making this up.

he does make a point of tilting… might’ve been romeo’s chin up during the seize the day speech during “ain’t no crime to being poor,” and jack makes a movement for the kid to hold his head up. ugh. jack’s pride through this show is a wild wild journey because all it really is.. is within other people. god. god…

another big jack thing as i like to yell abt is his physicality.. when he’s impressed he’s soft and when he needs to get something out of someone or get them away from him he’s distinctly rougher. his physical action is also quite purposeful and feels less reactive than it does like… thought through. even when he’s tugging himself away from les even it’s like an “oh, get off of me already”. it’s a slow, sort of just sick-of-it motion, it’s a wind-up into pulling his arm away (oh this could. be because it’s his bad shoulder and oscar had dug his heel into it the night before. hold tf on WOAH WOAH!!!! rizz ghost-directed this production fr) before of course he realizes it’s les. like it’s very clear he’d be the type to hide an injury really well and then when he lets himself feel it he feels it.

continuing the end of the rally though oh my god. he basically stands upstage center as everyone passes him. everyone he’s ever known passes him and insults him and shoves him but what’s interesting is like. the money is still in his hand. and no one takes it. idk it’s just cool. but literally everyone has words to say to him (well, some spit at him), because honestly, jack said words to them.

significantly, and i can’t stress this enough, jack is an extremely good observer and because of this he does think before he speaks.. in a way. he bases it around a person for sure though, specifically: during the seize the day speech, he goes up to race (he makes his rounds through the whole stage during this part, getting to speak to every newsie on stage. it’s really.. ah, moving, tbh) when he says “they are slaving to support themselves, and their folks” BECAUSE he’d been seeing race and davey not get along (hello to my post about that) through most of the show.. because of davey’s privilege of having a home. inversely, during the rally ‘speech’ jack says “how long can you go without making money” to fucking tommy boy, WHO HAD BEEN A SCAB. tommy literally stands up from the ladder he’s sitting on too bc literally how dare jack… like that is SO. specific.

^but, it also shows that jack definitely knows the methodology of trying to win people over. he knows how to be persuasive, he just obviously isn’t at the rally bc he’d been even more persuasive during seize the day.

• caveat. race is literally so fun to watch during the rally. because he quite literally is only here for the cause because of jack, like if jack wasn’t leading it… idt he’d be in support of it. (especially based on his dislike of davey). he does this “oh my god” of disbelief when jack says to vote no, shaking his head and laughing a little. it’s just. horrified. and it’s gradual too, like he slowly realizes what is going on, that jack is selling out vs. being genuine. ugh. love this racetrack so much but anyway

davey’s shove to jack when he goes to get les is like so small and light in the way of like. not wanting to touch him. because WWH reprise had been filled to the brim of davey touching jack and now davey can barely even fathom it. god they are so going out. also i think it’s interesting that dave and les are the ones to take on and off jack’s newsie square mural, since they’re the only two who have been in the know of jack’s talent since towards the start of the show (meddas)… cool choice.

santa fe for this jack feels the least tangible, like it’s very much in his mind. from it being ingrained in the set, and certainly the moon expanding and practically consuming him from behind, it’s very… dreamlike and visual. when davey walks in on jack painting he’s like “ohhhh is that santa fe. lmao.” LIKE?? it’s very not real in this which is interesting. because jack is very very good at running in this. so it’s cool that this rly is the one time he can’t (when he wants to).

also it rly is the way that the mics caught the ripping noises when jack is taking off the portraits from his penthouse’s overhang… the slow one at the end of “ you stole for those boys, didn’t you?” whew. and he looks at it. and then hides it. god

also, and i’m realizing this hasn’t been canon before: jack is packing a bag to literally leave. he has the money, he kept the jacobs out of jail, he has to go. because his pride does reside in others, and when there seems to be no one left, he has to leave. of course he does. god…

davey time.

the holding of davey’s head is after world will know while the tables are being set up. finally nailed down when tf this happens lmao

“oh, wow… well. you’re really good.” davey covers up when he’s impressed in favor of a statement of fact. he doesn’t like giving away his position, even when it’s not about the strike (/this foreshadows his hesitancy in the next scene, and his statements of facts about how strikes work accidentally backfiring as a stalling tactic and turn into actual reasons to strike).

davey laughs when he’s nervous, which makes when he’s smiling and when he’s not.. quite stark. his resting face is a little inquisitive frown, like he’s always kind of listening. but yeah for his spotlight at the rally he literally is like “oh haha! um- umm, haha— NEWSIESOFNEWYORK. haha! ummm, we got kids from- from every neighborhood!!” i love him. just the concept of meaning what you say so much that it needs to come out of you no matter what form it takes. @we-are-inevitable and i have talked abt poet!davey before and yeah it was uk davey who it stemmed from for a reason.

the role call moment in seize the day is cringe but genuinely davey’s will never not make me laugh bc like HE THINKS it’s cringe too. but what he also does is not call himself david. he says davey. during a role call. names. and it’s davey. do y’all understand

i actually will probably never shut up about crutchie’s open arms to davey after the refuge and davey rly just falling into it my god.. it makes me so emotional. and they talk for so long…

• to this point, i think it’s rly interesting how leaders, specifically, gravitate towards davey. charlie is talking to the guy upon impact- after world will know the two of them are borderline speaking over jack.. the blocking has charlie turned inward towards davey while sitting on the table, which blocks jack off. race argues with davey partway thru the pre-seize the day scene enough so for jack to push race back. and spot LOVES davey. he’ll try to look toward jack and she will bring him right back down to her level and get him looking at her again and they RUN OFF WITHOUT HIM even though they’re all headed to the same place. like lmao. davey is built to lead and engage, there is just something within his nature that is desperate to come out that all the other leaders tease out in different ways. tbh katherine too. DEFINITELY katherine too, since they’re attached at the hip.

we end the davey section with a javid moment idr if i’ve mentioned or not: when jack sets the deal to buy back papers with pulitzer, the transition back to newsie square is davey running. running to jack, katherine a ways behind, and grabbing jack’s shoulders with his eyes widened. well? and jack kinda shrugs, he’s playing it cool before he just grins, and davey rattles jack’s arms before they like. their hug is so close and intimate and rough and davey shoves jack into him, it’s the kind of hug that rocks them side to side a bit. my god. it’s unbelievable. can’t believe they got away w that level of homo onstage <3

speaking of homos im gonna go thru some ensemble quick stuff

albert and crutchie are close friends in this which is so cool. albert is also like consistently the one to pick anyone up off the ground, be it crutchie or les or another kid. it’s just what he does and it helps to not single out crutchie as well. he’s just so helpful and unhinged. like what a weird fucking paring he’s so crazy LMAO

finch is the one who starts the boos during the rally, loud and abrasive and angry. he and race are standing at manhattan with… ooh. idk. it might be splasher but literally do not quote me. finch is just so abrasive through this whole show i fucking love him. loud weirdo

mike is the angriest newsie in town. he is always yelling before a dance break

every time jojo and jack interact it’s like he’s picking up his baby brother or he’s hugging him etc and it like literally makes me emotional lololol. wow

jack bromage was fully back as tommy boy for my show (he’d been out for a bit/doing partial things bc of an injury!!) and THANK GOD because he is. and i’ve been over this but he is literally so cool LMAO he is For The Cause.

buttons is literally so cool in this despite his name. he steals from a vendor before getting the other newsie he’s with to toss their fruit to a sitting-alone splasher, his bit with the delanceys gets him pissed, he’s just consistently ready to actually throw hands and appreciate him for it. kind of serves uhhh livesies tommy boy energy which is fantastic

henry just has a lot more lines in this which surprises me every time. either that or he talks a lot just when he’s onstage LMAO

specs kind of always either literally leads or encourages the movement when newsies are in the aisles/city alleyways, which makes sense— of course the lookout would know the city back and forth!! god! i love him. i do wish we had a black actor again but sam is very sweet <3

that’s all! i say, having done another multiple thousand-word analysis post. thanks for joining me once again gents.

my past analyses have been about:

the show at large +principal characters,

davey,

something to believe in’s new perspective,

other general notes/characterizations,

and racetrack!

[flinttcanwriteipromise]

The Soldier of Love, The Soldier of Life

A Poem for Bianca

Summary: Bianca, my original character, grew up in Arlington VA with a general as her father. This is about her double sided upbringing in a loving household and growing up alongside the new recruits at the local military base.

A/N: I might include more about my newsies original characters, but if you want to see art of them of something of the sort go to @flinttflakes

———————————————————————————————

I grew up around soldiers.

Unbreakable resolves but breakable behaviors.

I watched boys grow into men.

I watched men grow childish.

Their gazes hardened, their stares to glares.

Their personalities became building blocks broken down over and over again, molded into shields to protect us from the ugly and damned.

I grew up around love.

With an unbreakable beauty but breakable heart.

I watched myself live and lose.

I watched the door open to striped and star embroidered triangles, folded neatly just well enough to hold a soul in there.

My gaze would soften staring at you like you were beauty itself, I ripped pieces of myself to fit into the chips and cracks they left in you, filling the shield they made you into and abandoned you as because someone made you think you were the damned and ugly.

I never grew childish.. but I never grew into a man.

I never toughened up enough to believe there was a target on my back but I was aware enough to watch it be painted with red acrylic in the mirror.

I never hardened my shell enough to keep everyone out because I was raised by the floodgates and learned to let everyone in.

I became the lighthouse.

You may have been so weary and old when you were younger, sailing the seas with hopes you may see me one day because I told you where the harbor was.

I grew up with a sign strapped to my chest that said “Free hugs.. take as many as you need.” because not many people did.

You will be kissed by my lips until you remember what it feels to have the sun kiss your face with the first rays of spring shining through winter’s departing winds.

I’m not a soldier for the free and the brave.

I’m a soldier for the trapped and the timid.

My weapons aren’t hardened with the blood of the lost or sharpened with the barks of orders from one man to another.

My weapons are softened with words of wisdom, dulled by the power of the life I led and the guidance I received walking it’s path.

My fingertips switch from being warm to the touch to thaw your cold skin to being cool enough to calm your anger.

I am the soldier of life, I am the soldier of love.

Molded by the rough and tumble, molded by the smooth and aspire.

Grown around soldiers and grown around love.

[uppastthejelliclemoon]

Tumblebrutus from Cats, Les Jacobs from Newsies, and Carlos Molina from Julie and the Phantoms all have the same energy

@cutesiewooren i will take no criticism

[lailuhhh]

Ok how about.. "II’m sorryyy"....?

That’s actually a Newsies fic that I haven’t touch in nearly a year 😩😩

He already knew he was at the lodging, he just didn’t remember how he got there. The fact that it was also daytime was kind of new to him too. It was significantly quieter and empty, though he heard some voices down the stairs. Oh, right. The stairs. He didn’t know if he could walk down them without losing his footing and tumbling. But luckily for him—

“Davey!” Said boy flinched slightly as Jack saw him, rushing up the stairs to meet him. “The hell you think yer doin in that state? I leave for three minutes to get somethin and yer outta bed lookin like yer gonna fall down the stairs at first step.”

“I— oh, uh sorry?” David didn’t really understand why he was apologizing.

“Christ, come here.” Jack very carefully took David’s arm and placed it around his shoulder while one of his own arms went around David’s waist. “Hold on so ya don’t fall.”

It’s basically me beating up a main character for 1k words