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emmedoesntdomath · 10 months

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favorite non-newsies fanfic list? (holds hands out for marvel/rw&rb crumbs)

FAVORITE NON-NEWSIES LIST LMAOOO

guys, if you want content for other fandoms besides incorrect quotes, all you got to do is ask. I just get a shit ton newsies asks.

okay, so I have a lot of favorite fics (I dare you to look at my bookmarks on ao3), but my favorites and my favorite recommendations are two VERY different things. so I’ll give you a little of both.

ALSO- I NEVER RECOMMEND WIPS. NOT BECAUSE I DON’T LIKE THEM, NOT BECAUSE SOME OF THEM AREN’T THE GREATEST THING TO GRACE THIS EARTH SINCE CHOCOLATE, BUT BECAUSE I WOULD HATE IF SOMEONE DID THAT TO ME. SORRY NOT SORRY.

WHAT I WOULD RECOMMEND OF MY FAVORITES (marvel and rw&rb edition):

it’ll be over (and I’ll still be asking when) by JBS_Forever- a literal masterpiece retelling of the typical irondad and spiderson relationship, honestly. tony’s a little ooc, but the way they wrote peter??? genius. inspired. would definitely recommend.

it’s the thing we’re missing most by lavenade- one of my favorite depictions of parkner in the history of ever, it beautifully showcases both the friendship and the relationship. perfect for a feel-good moment.

The Guiding of Death by RayShippouUchila- even if you’re not a winteriron fan (like, at all), it’s still very much a must-read. I make ALL of the exceptions for this one.

you’re stuck in my head (stuck on my heart, stuck on my body) by notcaycepollard- this was my first introduction to sam/bucky, and I have no regrets. their relationship is so gorgeous in this story. an easy favorite.

art of the game by volantium- perfection. harley is glorious, peter is anxious, and they’re perfect for each other. also, natasha.

Words May Fail (The Body Remains) by ladyflowdi- I know this isn’t really a common ship at this point, but you HAVE to read this. non-negotiable. I will find you. you can vent to me about it afterwards.

told you i’m on the way, i’m like an exit away by quidhitch- this might as well be canon, okay? it’s sweet, it’s angst-less, will make you grin so hard your cheeks hurt. I want to give the author a hug of gratitude.

~~~

Faster, Higher, Stronger by everwitch- basically follows the actual plot, but make it olympics. also, it’s nice and long. I have no criticisms to give.

Rule Number Nine by clottedcreamfudge- okay, honest moment here- I will unflinchingly recommend literally everything this author has written ever, but this is by far and away my favorite of their works. I’ve read it at least ten times.

We’ll Invite Something In by smc_27- so good. so sweet. also, it’s a little bit fluffier than most rw&rb fics, so if you’re looking for that, this one’s your guy.

and nowwwwww

MY FAVORITES OF ALL TIME THAT ARE JUST A LIL TOO UNHINGED TO MAKE THE FIRST REC LIST

Text Me Quarantine by ProsperDemeter- honestly, I don’t remember reading this one for the first time. it’s just a haze of pure euphoria.

a primer for the small weird loves by babyloveparkner- feature me SOBBING my heart out in the corner. I love this fic so much. honestly, top three of all of my favorites for any fandom. (warning: your heart will hurt)

The (Not So) Great Pretender by RayShippouUchila- I’m actually not willing to apologize for putting this author on here twice. this one is hilarious. also, fluffy avengers.

For the First Time, Eye to Eye by Sarah_Sandwich- I have never been so mad at harley keener than when I read this for the first time. one of the author’s greatest works, and so angst-ridden you’ll start seeing it in your sleep.

Catch Your Voice by lavvyan- this one’s for after you read the first non-negotiable fic. trust me.

~~~

A Sporting Chance by clottedcreamfudge- again, I will loudly proclaim this author’s greatness. their works make me really happy. alex is just so alex.

Made the Right Selection by clottedcreamfudge- alex is a cheerleader. henry’s learning all about football. that’s it.

Clue Me In by bleedingballroomfloor- you KNOW I’m here for the june/nora content. I shall never stop screaming about them.

okay, thank you for coming to my ted talk.

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auspicious-manner · 2 years

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ngl I keep coming back each day to read your stories, they are really good! can you do another story on newsies era mike faist and the reader? thank you :)

thank you so much, it means a lot :) even though i don’t update daily anymore, lol. although, i was better about it this week, and it only took me 6 days to update instead of 7, go me! small improvement!

female reader x mike faist

warnings: none

I’m So Tired

•

“dude, open the door!” a voice sounded from the outside of Y/N’s apartment door.

“gosh, give me like five seconds!” she yelled back as she finished packing her backpack to head to the theater.

there was a long pause. “it’s been longer than five seconds!”

she grabbed her bag and flung the door open to find an impatient mike looking down at her disheveled state.

“my goodness, you are insufferable.”

mike raised an eyebrow. “i’m insufferable? you’re the one who has made us behind today. we’re going to be late because of you.”

Y/N walked out of her apartment and turned to lock the door. “we’re going to be just fine, stop being so dramatic.”

Y/N and mike had a very close bond. after being cast in newsies together, with mike as morris and the understudy of jack kelly and Y/N as hannah and a bowery beauty, they became best friends due to constantly being together. every day, they would commute to the nederlander theatre together. mike lived further into the city, so he would drive his car to Y/N’s apartment building, park it in the street, and together they would take the subway.

with mike being a year older than Y/N, a lot of their debates resulted in mike trying to act as an older figure to her, with her firing back and saying something snarky like, “you’re not my dad”. given the fact that both of them had a dry, sarcastic sense of humor, their personalities fit together like two puzzle pieces. not only that, but their relationship was full of constant play-flirting that both of them though was based strictly off of friendship.

“i’m going on as jack today,” mike told her as they walked down the busy streets of new york.

Y/N yawned. “no kidding? that’s cool.”

mike sighed. “you could have just told me you didn’t care.”

Y/N quickly looked at him, realizing her yawn came off the wrong way. “i didn’t mean that sarcastically, really. i didn’t have time to make coffee today and i barely got any sleep because my neighbors dog was screeching all night,” she stopped walking, resulting in mike also coming to a stop. he stared at her sunken eyes. “i’m so unbelievably tired.”

mike nodded and continued walking. “i get it. if it makes you feel any better, we’ll share at least a little bit of stage time today since i’m going on as jack,” he said with a hopeful grin.

“ugh, that does not help my mood.”

the pair continued to the station, safely got on the subway, and headed off. on the subway, Y/N’s eyes began to flutter as if she was fighting off sleep. she’s pretty sure at some point she actually did manage to fall asleep on the short ride to their stop.

“are you… sleeping?” mike asked when he saw her head slumped to the side. he pushed her arm gently and she shot up.

“are you okay? i don’t think i’ve ever seen you this tired,” he asked her with real concern.

“i’m fine, i promise. i just didn’t get a lot of sleep, that’s all.”

mike stared back at her, not fully believing it. he put his hand to her forehead. “you feel a little warm. do you have a fever?”

“who knows, i might,” she started, being interrupted by a yawn. “i’ll just take a nap in my dressing room before i have to get ready, then i’ll be brand new.”

mike sighed. “Y/N, you are one tough cookie.”

they got off at their stop and walked into the beautiful nederlander theatre. sometimes they still couldn’t believe they did this for a living. the feeling of walking into the empty theater never changed, even after performing hundreds of shows.

they signed in and separated to their dressing rooms to prepare. she got to her shared dressing room early and was able to squeeze in a short hour of sleep before being awoken by her cast mates.

“Y/N, if you don’t get ready now you’ll never be ready in time for the show,” kara lindsay said, leaning over the girl sleeping on the small couch. she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and sat up.

“this is going to be a long night,” she murmured before getting up and sitting in front of the mirror. she began to pin strands of hair tight against her head in order to prepare for her wig to be placed.

“what’s wrong with you today? you seem off,” kara asked as she did the same thing as Y/N.

“is it really that noticeable?” she asked, resulting in a nod from kara.

“i slept horribly last night, and i think i’m coming down with a cold. i’m just so tired.”

“just think about how rewarding your sleep is going to be when you finish the show tonight. you just have to get through two hours, and you’re free to sleep,” she consoled.

Y/N nodded and yawned. “i guess you’re right.”

she continued getting ready with kara and the other girls who played the nuns and the second bowery beauty by her side. she was friends with kara and merely acquaintances with the girls, but her only close friend out of the entire cast was mike. she hated to admit it, but she almost thought there was something more seriously flirty between the two of them. something beyond the nonchalant play flirting.

as if kara was reading Y/N’s mind, kara cleared her voice and began to speak. “you and mike are together a lot. do you like him?”

Y/N froze. was she going to admit her feelings for mike to kara?

“what? no. we’re just friends, nothing more,” she said, clearly not believing her own words.

kara smiled. “the way you guys look at each other and blush as if on cue isn’t something friends just do. when you guys finally realize there’s something more, give me credit,” she stated confidently before going to the wig room to get her wig placed.

Y/N sat contemplating what kara said, and looked at the three other girls to her side that were too engrossed in their own conversations to really listen to hers. she sat back in her seat and continued her hair, the conversation never leaving her mind.

after completing the process of pinning her hair back and doing her makeup, she got her first wig placed and her hannah costume on. after she was completely ready and waiting for her first call, she laid back down on the couch and closed her eyes.

there was a knock outside the dressing room door. she heard it in her sleep, but didn’t have the energy to answer it.

the knock sounded again, but instead of stopping afterwards, whoever it was came in.

“i-Y/N, are you sleeping again?”

Y/N sat up and saw mike in his jack kelly costume, standing over her.

“yeah, i was sleeping,” she replied, dazed.

“you’re not okay to do the show tonight, you never sleep before we go on like this. you should have called off,” mike said, sitting down next to her.

“i can do it. it sucks, but i’ll be fine. it’s just one show, and then i’m free to sleep in as long as i please tomorrow. i promise i’m just fine, pinky swear,” she said playfully, holding out her pinky.

mike glared at her before rolling his eyes and interlocking his pinky with hers. “i’m trusting you on this one.”

everyone was called to the wings, and mike stood by Y/N. she felt his glance lay on her, but she ignored it and looked onstage where the final props were being set up. she could hear the bustling audience beyond the stage.

mike placed an arm around Y/N’s shoulders, causing her to lean in and rest her head on mike’s shoulder. she could have easily fallen asleep right there.

it was mike’s turn to go on. “good luck buddy, you’ll be great,” she said, patting his back.

“you too, Y/N. don’t fall asleep out there!” he whispered before running to his place.

the show actually went smoothly, to Y/N’s surprise. the roar of the audience gave Y/N a boost of energy, and she was mostly able to get through the show. however, she noticed that any time she sat down in one of pulitzer’s chairs onstage, sleep threatened her again. along side the sleep issue, she felt her cold symptoms beginning to worsen, and her throat became scratchy and her nose was beginning to get stuffed up.

while being one of the bowery beauties, mike and Y/N got at least a few minutes of indirect stage time together. when the show allowed, they made eye contact and Y/N would look back at him, dazed with both tiredness and admiration for her friend.

towards the end of the show, Y/N watched mike perform onstage, and he was magical. he was captivating, and talented, and she wanted nothing more than to watch mike perform for hours. he ran off stage, catching her eyes staring directly at him.

“you okay?” he whispered, leaning close to her ear.

she yawned in response. “all good.”

he laughed before running off. she smiled to herself, feeling oddly giddy. mike was her best friend, why was she feeling excited at mike recognizing her?

finally, after a tiring two hours, it was time for curtain call. Y/N felt like at any time, her body would collapse under the weight of her heavy eyelids coercing her to sleep. she took her bow, and grinned when mike came out on stage as jack kelly. every time he went on as jack, Y/N’s heart fluttered with pride. she wasn’t exactly sure if it was normal for her to feel this strongly about a friend.

she retired to her dressing room, undoing her costume, hair, and makeup as quickly as possible. it took her longer than expected, though, due to her drowsy and slow movements.

all of the other girls finished before her, and she was left alone in her room. she was on her last task: unclipping her head of hair.

“oh gosh, i can’t do this,” she mumbled, resting her head on the table in front of her. luckily, before she could fall asleep at her table, mike barged in the door.

“hey Y/N- oh do not tell me you’re sleeping again,” mike said, standing behind her.

“not this time. i was close,” she lifted her head up and looked at mike through the mirror in front of her. “i just want to go home. i don’t even have the energy to take my hair out of the clips.”

mike thought about it, hesitated, and spoke up. “if you want me to, i can unclip it for you. you can rest your head for a little bit and i’ll get your hair done, okay?”

Y/N blushed. “would you?”

mike smiled back. “anytime. now, head down.”

she rested her head on her arms in front of her, and dozed off into a very light sleep. she knew mike was still talking to her, but she couldn’t decipher it or reply.

mike patted the back of her head. “all done,” mike exclaimed. “now, if you don’t hurry, we’ll miss our ride and i don’t think you want that.”

Y/N stood up slowly, finding it hard to walk due to her exhaustion. they made it outside of the theater, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to walk the few blocks to the station.

“mike?” she asked softly. matching her energy, he turned around and gave her a gentle look.

“what’s up?” he asked.

“c-can you carry me?”

mike tried to hide his red cheeks. “yeah, of course, but just this once. you’re crazy if you think i’ll be doing this for you every day.”

Y/N laughed and jumped on his back. “don’t worry about it, i won’t ask again.”

she got herself situated in a piggyback position on mike, and he carried her to their station. she rested her head comfortably on his back, and the sound of his breathing quickly lulled her to sleep. the only time she was awake was when mike set her down at the station and when they arrived at their destination. on the subway, she rested her head on mike’s shoulder and took a power nap.

Y/N instinctively got onto mike’s back again after they got out of the station, and he carried her all the way to her apartment door.

“i’ll get you settled inside, and then i’m going to head out,” mike said as Y/N unlocked her door.

“you can stay. your shoulder and back was comfy to sleep on,” she said, surprising herself with how bold she was being.

“are you sure? i don’t want to interrupt your sleep.”

Y/N stopped in the middle of her bedroom as mike told her this. “dude, i literally fell asleep on you multiple times tonight. you help me sleep,” she replied.

“if you say so,” he said, smiling lightly.

they got into bed, and unbeknownst to the other, they were smiling at the thought of sharing a bed together.

Y/N laid her head on mike’s chest, and he placed his arm around her.

“is this okay?” she asked, not wanting to overstep her boundaries.

he grazed her shoulder with his fingertips. “it’s perfect.”

“goodnight mike,” she said, already half asleep in his arms.

“goodnight Y/N,” he whispered back. she swore she heard a small “i love you” from mike, but before she could decide if she did or not, she was passed out cold.

#mike faist #mike faist imagine #mike faist x reader #mike faist fanfiction #newsies #newsies imagine #newsies x reader #jack kelly

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impulsivedecisionsat3am · 8 months

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Please please someone let Davey sing The Truth About The Moon. It would add so much more depth to his character (and you could add something else regarding him forgiving Jack after he scabbed) and it would add just more to the story in general. Like hopeless gay pining. I don’t care if Jack ends up with Katherine instead, we’re all used to canonical Jatherine anyways, but everyone would be grateful with one sided Javid anyways, because one-sided Javid is still Javid. He could run away after the rally, like in the proshot, and then we just cut to him on the fire escape (from 92’sies) singing this. The fire escape wouldn’t even be too complicated or hard to do, just pop Ben Fankhauser on one of the large metal frame things used throughout the proshot (in case it wasn’t clear by proshot I mean the 2017 Disney+ version), or Ryan Kopel somewhere in the Troubadour (from what I heard about that theater, that also shouldn’t be too hard), or just someone, somewhere my point is that it wouldn’t be hard at all, and it would add so much more to the show, including just 3-5 more minutes! Also, it’s pretty obvious that TTATM (look mom I made an acronym) is more of a Davey song than a Sarah song. Was Sarah there when Jack betrayed the newsies? No! (At least I don’t think so) But was Davey there? Yes! Would Davey feel lied-to and betrayed? Yes! Would Dave need a whole song to process that (because he and Jack actually had a relationship, be it platonic or romantic, instead of just prolonged eye contact, barley any conversation, and maybe some aesthetic attraction), because Davey was actually part of the strike, therefore it probably felt like Jack’s betrayal had a more personal meaning/intention/whatever towards him? Yes! A thousand times yes! Also looking back at the song, I’m starting to believe that it was written for Davey, because of all the reasons I listed above, and they had to say it was the other sibling because, in case you haven’t noticed, Disney doesn’t really do gay (hate to get political but they literally supported the ‘Don’t Say Gay Bill’ until the realized “hey, this isn’t really helping our public image” and then suddenly opposed it) Look, I don’t even know who I’m trying to convince, because it’s not like any important Newsies people will see this, but still please someone let Davey Jacobs sing The Truth About The Moon. It would be awesome and great and so wonderful and just wow.

#Ok wow I just found this in my notes app (written before I created this blog)#jesus I’m pretty sure I also wrote an english assignment about this too #either that or the characterization of sarah jacobs #or lack thereof #might post that one too #truth about the moon #newises #davey jacobs #jack kelly #javid #not punk #broadway

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poorguysheadisdoingwhatnow · 4 months

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Kiss in the moonlight with dot? Thanks man we stan

it’s been idk even how many years since you sent this ask originally (at least a billion); here’s the latest gift you’ve ever received bestie ily

----------

1900

They meet on the Manhattan side of the bridge, this time. Spot is standing down by the riverfront, staring at the reflection of the moon on the water. It’s nice out tonight, still warm, the last vestiges of summer beginning to give way to fall. It’s late, almost midnight, but Spot doesn’t mind. He’s always been a night owl despite his job requiring an early start, and there’s something about the night, a certain calm that’s different than that of the dawn. It’s difficult for him to be alone in the mornings, anyway, with the bustle of the other newsies, and his walks across the bridge on certain evenings allow him to sink into his own thoughts, if only for an hour or so.

He’s lost in thought now, still staring out at the water, when a hand on his shoulder startles him. He spins to see Davey, who looks surprised but is already smiling.

“Sorry. I scare you?”

Spot scoffs. “Hardly,” he retorts, but there’s no heat in it. He smiles back at Davey and puts a hand on his upper arm, giving it a fond squeeze. “Good to see ya, Mouth. Been a while, huh?”

“Yeah, too long. Sorry,” Davey says again. “It’s just… it’s been hectic lately.” He doesn’t have to say anything else; Spot knows him well enough. Davey’s dad started working again a couple months after the newsies strike ended the previous year, which meant his mother wanted him and his little brother back in school. Davey and Les still sell papers in the mornings, though, and Sarah works full time as a seamstress. And Davey has been studying much more lately, preparing for…

“So when do you start?” Spot asks.

“In a couple of weeks.” Davey sighs. “Still not even sure if I’m gonna go.”“Of course you’re gonna go,” Spot says, more roughly than he intended. “You’d be stupid not to, Dave. You’re booksmart, it’s part of your charm. Now you get to use it.”

“It’s gonna be so different,” Davey says, staring out at the river like Spot was earlier, a wistful expression on his face. “I mean, it’s college, Spot. I won’t be able to hawk papers anymore, and I won’t get to see… well, see anyone, ya know? And my folks, and Les and Sarah, what if something happens again, and—”

“You’re babblin’,” Spot says, and he places his hands on Davey’s shoulders. “Look at me, Dave.” Davey does, tearing his gaze from the water. “Your dad’s workin’ again, so is Sarah, so is Les, even. And it’s not like you’re gonna be gonna be a thousand miles away. It’s what, an hour, hour and a half walk from your folks’ place? Hell, get a job down there near the college, bring money back to ‘em, and when you get your fancy reporter job, you’ll be makin’ more than you even know what to do with.”

Davey doesn’t say anything, and Spot gives him a gentle shake. “You hearin’ me? Change is hard, Dave, I get it, but you’re gonna get yourself a good life this way.”

At this, Davey cracks a smile. “You sound so wise, Spot. You sure you don’t wanna come with me?”

Spot drops his hands from Davey’s shoulders. “Like they even would.”

“You’re plenty smart, you know that.”

“College ain’t for me, I don’t think,” Spot says. “And I still got kids to look after.”

“Yeah.” Davey takes one of Spot’s hands and holds it in his own. “You ever think about the future, Spot?”

“I do,” Spot admits, “but it’s not here yet, is it?”

“I guess not.”

Davey looks downtrodden. Spot squeezes his hand. “We’re all gonna be alright, Dave. You know that. Hey, how’s Jack, by the way? Still goin’ for that art school he’s been talkin’ about?”

Katherine finally convinced Jack to pursue an art career beyond political cartoons, and Governor (or Vice President now, rather) Roosevelt had put in a good word for him at one of the new private schools, practically ensuring him an acceptance letter and a scholarship.

“He’s excited,” Davey says. His smile hasn’t returned. “He won’t be selling papers for much longer either, I guess.”

“Race and Crutchie and them got those kids well in hand, though, I bet.”

“Yeah. And Jack says he wants to propose to Kath after he gets out of school.”

This surprises Spot, only a little. “Her dad gonna go for that?”

Davey snorts. “Like Katherine would care. Or Jack, for that matter. Anyway, that means they’ll probably take off in a couple years, too. Jack never did stop thinking about Santa Fe, ya know?”

They’re all growing up. It’s a sobering thought, but growing up isn’t that bad, Spot thinks, especially since there was a time when he wasn’t sure he’d get the chance.

“Maybe it won’t be so bad,” Davey says. “College, I mean. Getting older. It’s exciting.” He pauses, like he’s thinking about something. “You’ll… you’ll come visit, right? I mean, like you said, I won’t be far away at all, ‘specially with all the walking we do anyway, but what if I can’t get to Brooklyn, or I want to—”

This time, Spot shuts him up by leaning forward and pressing his lips to Davey’s, soft and quick. When he pulls back, Davey is blushing so fiercely Spot can see it in the dark.

“‘Course I’m gonna visit, Dave,” Spot says. “See you at your fancy college, readin’ your fancy college books and everything? It’ll be like finally seeing you in your natural habitat.”

Davey finally smiles again. “Then it’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, it will.”

They stand in comfortable silence for a long time after that, holding hands and watching the moonlight dance on the water.—1905

The room is thick with cigarette smoke, and Davey feels slightly embarrassed as he suppresses the urge to cough; many of his classmates in college smoked, and most of his coworkers do as well, but he has never understood the appeal. He had tried it once, his first year at school, and immediately coughed so hard he thought he might vomit. Spot had teased him for weeks.

Davey stares into his drink, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips at the memory.

“Amazin’ you haven’t hacked up a lung yet, Dave.”

“...Shut up, Spot.” Davey clears his throat again in an attempt to get rid of the persistent tickle and hands the cigarette back. “Don’t know how you do it.”

“What, this?” Spot takes a long drag, smirks, and blows the smoke up into the air. “Brooklyn boys was practically raised on the stuff.”

“So that’s why you all smell so bad.” That earns Davey a punch in the arm, but he just laughs.

“Just full’a jokes, aren’t you, Mouth?” Spot flicks a bit of ash off the end of the cigarette. “Hey, wanna see me blow a smoke ring?”

“Thinking hard there, David?” Bryan Denton, editor at The Sun and Davey’s new boss, lays a hand on Davey’s shoulders and startles him out of his reverie.

“Just, uh… thinking about old friends, Mr. Denton.”

“No need for the ‘mister,’ David, I’ve told you that,” Denton says. “Old friends, you say?”

“Yeah, a kid I knew back when I was in school.” Davey doesn’t quite know how to quantify his relationship with Spot, and he certainly won’t talk about it to his boss, anyway. “We actually sold papers together for a bit before that. You remember when I told you about the strike?”

“Oh, yes.” Denton takes a sip of his own drink. “Quite an affair, wasn’t it? Shame I was overseas at the time, but that Plumber—I read her articles, you know, once I returned. Fantastic stuff. It’s no wonder she moved up into investigative journalism so quickly. At her age, and as a woman—it’s something to really admire.”

Davey smiles. “It is.” He knows Katherine travels now, selling her stories to newspapers all across the country, really making a name for herself. Jack always sounds so happy in his letters, so proud of Kath’s accomplishments.

“And how are you faring?” Denton asks. “I know sometimes everything feels like it’s moving far too quickly, but that’s the beauty of the news. It’s always moving, and it’s up to us to capture it and give it to the people who need to hear it.”

“It’s fantastic.” And Davey doesn’t have to fake the enthusiasm in his voice. It’s so strange to think that once he was just hawking the news, and now he’s writing it. And with more assignments coming his way every day, he has ample opportunities to make sure he tells people’s stories right.

“I’m glad,” Denton says. “You know, I see a lot of myself in you, David. You’re going to go far. Just make sure to keep your head up and your words honest.”

David feels heat rising in his face and takes another sip of his drink, hoping Denton will think it’s just the alcohol. “Thank you, sir.”

“Good lad.” Denton reaches over and gives Davey’s shoulder a warm, brief squeeze. “I will see you tomorrow. Early day and all that—the news never sleeps.”

“The news never sleeps,” Davey agrees. Denton gives him a nod before rising from the table. Davey watches him gather his coat and hat and leave the building. He should leave, too, he thinks, even as he orders another drink and sits back in his seat, watching other patrons come and go.

Some time later, Davey has finished his second drink, and the smell of smoke is beginning to make his head pound. He gathers his things and is headed for the front door when it opens again, and another group of men floods in.

Dockworkers, probably, Davey thinks, noting the smell of seawater wafting into the room as well. He waits for the crowd to thin so he can leave, and when it doesn’t—surely, the saloon is not large enough for all these people—he resorts to pushing his way through. He is nearly to the door when someone bumps his shoulder and he staggers.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” the man says, and Davey is about to wave him off when he realizes he knows that voice.

“Spot?”

They stare at each other for a moment; Spot looks as surprised as Davey feels. But then Spot’s shock quickly melts and he gives Davey a grin and a hearty clap on the shoulder.

“Dave! How are ya? It’s been…”

Too long, Davey thinks. He and Spot had lost touch somewhere in Davey’s second year of college, after Spot got a job at the docks and Davey got busy with the school paper.

“It’s been ages, huh?” he says. “It’s good to see you, Spot.”

“Wow, I haven’t heard that name in a while,” Spot says, taking his hand from Davey’s shoulder. Davey pretends he doesn’t miss the warmth. “Mostly Sean now, down at the docks.”

“You know, I didn’t know your real name for months after the strike,” Davey says. Spot laughs, and it’s a wonderful sound.

“I was probably the one who told ya, wasn’t I?”

“I think so. I asked Jack once, but he said, ‘he’ll soak me good if I let it slip, Mouth.’”

“And he was right,” Spot says, but his voice is light.

“Hey, Conlon!” a burly man close to the bar interrupts, waving toward them. “You gonna order?”

The spell of the moment is broken. Davey suddenly feels like an intruder; he’s not in Spot’s life anymore, they’ve both moved on.

“I should go, Spot,” he says, turning back toward the door. “It was, uh, it was good seeing you.”

Before he can change his mind, he gives Spot’s arm a subtle, fleeting squeeze and pushes through the crowd.

He opens the door and escapes into the crisp evening air. Winter hasn’t tightened its grip on the city yet, and the night is cool but comfortable. Davey takes a moment to breathe, pushing away the guilt that has begun to encroach upon his thoughts. But he’s only taken a few steps when the door opens behind him.

“Dave, wait.” Spot’s voice is enough to make Davey hesitate for a moment, then Spot’s hand is on his shoulder again.

When Davey turns, Spot looks sadder than he’s ever seen him, his eyes suspiciously shiny under the dim light of the waning moon. To Davey’s embarrassment, his own eyes prickle almost painfully. He glances around; for the moment, they’re alone in the street. But before he can gather his courage, Spot surprises him by leaning forward first. Their lips graze each other tentatively, and Spot starts to pull back, but now Davey is ready. He tangles his fingers in the front of Spot’s sweater and drags him closer, and this time their lips crash together. The kiss is deep and hot, desperate and soul-crushing and perfect.

When they finally separate, Davey can see the tears on Spot’s cheeks. He realizes this is the first time he’s ever seen Spot cry, but he doesn’t mention it; his own face feels damp and there’s a lump in his throat.

“I can’t lose you again, Dave,” Spot croaks.

Davey laughs, raspy and relieved. He had forgotten what this felt like—what Spot felt like. He closes his eyes and leans forward until their foreheads are touching. His hand finds the back of Spot’s neck and stays there, squeezing gently.

“You won’t.”—1910

Sean walks briskly down the street, straightening his cap for what feels like the hundredth time as he dodges another pair of people walking too damn slow. It’s his first night of shore leave, and the moon is full and high in the sky. The weather is perfect, a warm breeze carrying the promise of summer drifting between the buildings, but Sean barely notices it; he just wants to get home. He tries to resist the urge to jog, but once his apartment building comes into view, he can’t help it. He runs the last couple blocks and wrenches open the front door, nearly bowling down his elderly neighbor.

“I am so sorry, Miss Leary,” he says, taking off his cap and nodding his head in apology. But she just laughs.

“That is quite all right, son.” She gives him a wink. “I saw your friend get back just about two hours ago; he looked just as excited as you do. Better get upstairs.”

Sean feels his cheeks heat. He grins and nods again, then holds the door open for Miss Leary as she leaves. Then he’s hurrying up the stairs two at a time until he reaches the seventh floor.

He passes Miss Leary’s apartment and then he’s standing in front of the door at the end of the hall. He turns the knob and enters the small but well-organized living room, places his cap on a nearby wall hook, drinks in the sight of home. And there, in one of the armchairs that faces the large windows overlooking the rest of the neighborhood, sits David, scribbling away in one of his many notebooks. A small pile of the things has already accumulated on the floor beside his chair.

“Still working?” Sean can’t suppress his smile as David jumps, obviously startled. “I thought this was supposed to be a break.”

David recovers quickly and jumps up from his chair, dropping his notebook carelessly on a nearby end table as he crosses the living room. Sean meets him halfway, his fingers tangling in David’s hair as he presses his lips to David’s own. They take a moment like that, then David pulls away just enough to smile at Sean.

“Hello, sailor,” he says cheekily.

Sean rolls his eyes. “Hello yerself. How’s life on the front lines?” He tries to keep his voice light, but he can tell by David’s falling expression that he didn’t quite succeed. David knows his job as a war correspondent for The Sun worries Sean, and Sean’s naval duties aren’t much better at the moment. But there will be time to talk about that later, Sean decides.

“Never mind,” he says, pulling David close again. “But you gotta stop workin’ so hard; I’m sure the news can survive a couple nights with you, huh? I only got a few days on shore, after all.”

“Yeah, it can wait.” David toys with Sean’s neckerchief. “I’ve missed you, Spot.”Sean laughs at the old nickname, but it warms his heart to hear it again. “I’ve missed you too, Mouth.”

Now it’s David’s turn to laugh, and it’s the best thing Spot’s heard in months. This is the first time they’ve seen each other since their jobs took them to opposite sides of the world near the beginning of the year, and Sean is going to enjoy every moment of it. He pulls David toward the windows and they stand together, staring out into the darkness. The city looks better at night, Sean decides, when it’s lit up only by the streetlamps and the light of the moon.

“I’ve always liked this time of night,” David says, as if reading Sean’s mind. “Especially when the moon is full.” It illuminates his face and reflects off his eyes until they almost seem to glow.

“Me too.” Sean leans over and kisses David’s cheek. If he had his way, they would stand here forever, under the moonlight. “Me too, Dave.”

#newsies #david jacobs #spot conlon #dot newsies #a newsies fic? from me? in 2024? it's more likely than u think #ignore any historical inaccuracies i simply Do Not Care anymore #i just wanted to make these idiots kiss

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the-sky-the-stars-the-sea · 9 months

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July 24, 1899: The Rally at Irving Hall

Today, 124 years ago, the newsies held their rally at Irving Hall. At least 2,000 newsies were inside the building, and around 3,000 were left outside because there was no more room inside. There were around 5,000 newsies there that night.

They assembled the executive committee of the newsboys, and discussed many formal matters about the strike.

This was the night they agreed to stop with the violence, to adopt more peaceful methods of striking, because up to that point, they did exactly what Spot Conlon says in the movie: “any scab I see, I soak, period.” This night, they agreed not to do that, because as David Jacobs says in the movie: “if we get violent, we’re just playing into their hands.”

There were speeches, there was some singing, and even a juggling act.

Kid Blink (one of the biggest leaders of the strike) and Racetrack Higgins (the leader of the Brooklyn newsies) competed fiercely for the floral horseshoe: the prize that would be given to the one who gave the best speech. Kid Blink won. Racetrack Higgins was very salty about it, and chances are he started rumors about Kid Blink scabbing. Still, Racetrack was described to be “a natural born leader of boys, and may yet be of men” so not all was lost for him.

There were also public officials there and ex-newsies who sided with the newsies, and promised to give their support.

There were in fact police there, but they were only there in case there was conflict, but ultimately they were entertained just as everyone else was. It was a good night for everyone and it was easily one of the most successful moments of the strike. (Neither the movie nor the musical included this conflict-free rally, however, which makes them both lose historical accuracy points; I know they probably did it for plot reasons and drama but the decision still irks me)

Anyways this is definitely one of my favorite moments of the strike.

#92sies #newsies #livesies #uksies #newsies strike anniversary #newsies history

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heliads · 1 year

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In the Future

Based on this request: "A oneshot for Jojo with a marriage pact, like if we're both single by the time we're (age) we'll get married"

masterlist

It is late by the time you finally manage to make it to the fire escape. Third floor of the Manhattan newsies’ lodging house, on the side facing the west, two windows down. Same one as always. Same boy as always waiting for you there, too.

You have enough time to flash him an apologetic smile as you slide into a seat next to him. Jojo has been many things at many different times– insufferable, quick to a temper, prone to flights of fancy– but forever your best friend. That’s why you know enough to expect forgiveness for your tardy arrival even before he opens his mouth to speak.

Jojo’s still going to give you a hard time, at least for a minute or two. That’s just what he does. That’s what the two of you do, what you have done since the moment you met in this very same lodging house and what you’ll probably keep doing until one of you gets stuck in the Refuge for good or manages to move out of this city.

He arches a brow. “Y/N, do you know what time it is?” He asks it casually enough, but you can tell from the sarcastic glint in his eyes that Jojo isn’t just posing this question for fun.

“Half past six,” you admit begrudgingly.

Jojo’s eyes widen comically. “Is that so? Crazy. I thought we agreed to meet at half past five. You know, like we do every single day.”

You groan. “Oh, lay off already. I was busy.”

Usually, you’re as carefree as could be after work lets out, just like any other newsie worth his coin. Today, however, your tone is a little strained, your face a little exhausted. You try to hide it, but you should have known that you wouldn’t have that much luck.

Jojo leans forward. “What’s wrong?”

Straight to the point, just like always. You do your best to push off the inevitable for the time being, even if you have a feeling this tactic of distraction won’t work out. “Nothing. I’m great. Say, did you see Race? I think he said he stole a fresh box of cigars, maybe we should investigate–”

Jojo cuts you off with a sharp look. “You’se hiding something. Don’t think I don’t see it. Can you cut to the chase and tell me already?”

You shrug, the picture of innocence. “Nothing is wrong. I’m just a normal person behaving normally.”

Jojo sighs exasperatedly. “Y/N.”

“Jojo,” you repeat back, just as deadpan, “okay, fine. It’s just the job, that’s all. A pair of newlyweds had the brilliant idea to use newspapers as confetti for their wedding today, seeing as it’s a cheap source of paper. I was delivering the papes to them this afternoon.”

“That doesn’t seem too bad,” Jojo says cautiously.

You nod. “Yeah, and it shouldn’t have been bad, but something about seeing everyone together at the chapel, so happy, it reminds me that I’m never going to get something like that. I’m not stupid, Jojo. I know my prospects or whatever aren’t the brightest. I don’t have a dowry, I don’t have parents who are going to pay me through a nice ceremony. It just sucked watching those people be so successful when I know that’s never going to be me.”

Jojo frowns. “I know what you mean. We doesn’t have enough money to be that carefree.”

The two of you sit in saddened silence for a while before Jojo’s eyes light up again. “Wait a minute,” he declares, “I have an idea. A really good one, in fact.”

You grin. “What kind of good idea?”

Jojo stands, starting to pace back and forth across the narrow fire escape. You tuck your legs up to your chest so you’re out of his way.

“Hear me out,” he says slowly, “what if we get married? Not now, of course. Just, you know, if nothing happens. We can get tax benefits and all that stuff Katherine keeps talking about in her articles. If we’se both on our lonesome by the time we’re older, we get married. Easy as that.”

You think you might be hallucinating. “Jojo,” you murmur faintly, “you can’t actually be serious about this. Us. Getting married.”

“Yeah,” he answers, “And? It would work out. Just as a last ditch answer, obviously. I’m not, uh, doing it for any other reason. And it wouldn’t be for a very long time. Maybe you’d be on your deathbed or something.”

You snort. “I’m not getting married if I’m minutes from death.”

Jojo shrugs. “Then we do it earlier. What do you say?”

You stare at him in vague bewilderment until it dawns on you that this isn’t the worst idea, all things considered. You can only be a newsie so long, you can’t only live in the lodging house forever. At least renting some shoddy place in ‘Hattan would be easier if you had a lawfully wedded husband and all that nonsense.

At last, you swallow back your laughter and reach out your hand in mock solemnity. “Alright, then. We’re getting married at some point in the future.”

Jojo’s grin is as bright as any you’ve ever seen, and he shakes your hand with equal gravity. “Sounds like a deal to me.”

You’re not sure what to expect in the aftermath of that particular conversation. Jojo asserted that the wedding would only happen in the distant future, but it would still definitely be happening, and that’s really more than you expected in the first place. Would he act as if nothing changed, or either better or worse, like everything had changed?

At first, it seemed as if life would be normal. You go to work, you sell your papes, you talk with Jojo late into the evening just like any other day. It takes about a week or so before you start noticing the small differences in Jojo’s usual character, changes that most certainly only began to occur after that agreement happened.

The first sign comes on a Tuesday morning. You’re in line to get your papers to start the day, idly chatting to a few of your friends, when you realize that something is off.

Albert has his arm around your shoulder, complaining about how Race nearly decked him for no reason the other day just because he tried to sell at Sheepshead. When the redhead takes a breath, you whisper something to him, careful to ensure that no one else can overhear you.

“Is it just me, or is Jojo staring at us?”

Albert takes a surreptitious glance around, then nods. “No, you’re definitely right.”

Across the square, Jojo has his arms folded across his chest. He’s glaring at you and Albert, practically radiating fury. The only problem is that you have absolutely no idea why your friend is upset.

“Neither of us did anything to upset him, right?” You ask cautiously.

Albert shakes his head. “Last I checked, yeah. Maybe someone’s framed us.”

You chuckle at that. “Makes enough sense to me.”

The two of you have reached the front of the line, and Albert disengages his arm so you can go ahead and pay for your papers. You wave goodbye to Jojo when you pass him on your way out, and, funnily enough, the other boy looks far happier the second Albert is no longer within your line of sight.

A similar thing happened two days later. This time, you’re out selling papers in the streets of Manhattan, hawking your best (often false) headlines in the hopes of turning a profit. Buttons is right by your side, your selling partner since the very beginning.

This time, Buttons is the one to notice first. He taps you on the shoulder as you come back from selling a pape. “Why is Jojo looking at me like he wishes I was dead?”

You turn around, following the boy’s line of sight around a neighboring street corner. Jojo had been lingering by a streetlight, and although he quickly ducks into a shop to avoid detection, you’ve already seen him. More specifically, you saw the cold stare he was directing towards Buttons, the exact same look he’d been giving Albert the other day.

You shrug. “I have absolutely no idea. Let me guess, you haven’t done anything to upset him?”

“Yeah,” says Buttons, “he was talking to me like nothing happened this morning. Weird.”

“Weird indeed,” you agree.

By the third instance of this different attitude, you’re starting to get annoyed. It's been a week since the first time you noticed Jojo acting oddly. You’re in the lodging house after managing to sell all of your papers. Jojo walks in while you’re laughing over the day’s exploits with a group of friends. Usually, he’d stop to talk to you, but this time he walks straight by as if he doesn’t see anyone there. He gives you a polite wave, but nothing else.

Had it happened any earlier, you probably would have just brushed it off as the result of a hard day, but this time you’re mad. Jojo is treating you weirdly and you’re sick of it. You bid a quick goodbye to your friends and walk quickly after him.

Jojo looks surprised when you follow him into an empty hallway, but you’re not letting anything come in between you and some answers.

“What is this about?” You ask pointedly.

Jojo does his best to look innocent. “What are you talking about?”

You fold your arms across your chest. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. You’ve been acting oddly for days now. Did you know that some of our friends have started asking if they did something wrong? You’re treating them like they’re monsters and they have no idea why. Neither do I, for that matter.”

Jojo flushes and looks away. “That’s not– I’m not mad at them.”

“Then why are you behaving like this?” You question him.

His gaze snaps back to you. “Because they’re getting too close to you. I mean, you saw Albert that day, he had his arm around you and everything. Maybe I just don’t like that.”

You scoff. “I’m allowed to talk to my friends, Jojo. Last time I checked, we’re not getting married for another decade or two.”

“Don’t bring up that agreement,” he says heatedly, “that was for me. A last resort if I couldn’t tell you how I felt. If all else failed, that would work. I don’t know why I bothered, though, because you clearly seem way more interested in every other boy here.”

You stare at him. “Wait, you were going to tell me how you felt?”

Jojo looks unhappy, but it’s not as if he can get out of this now. “I like you,” he says simply, “I thought you already knew, but there. I do. Problem is, you don’t feel the same way.”

“Well,” you reply slowly, “who ever said anything about that?”

Now it’s his turn to be in shock. “What?”

You lift a shoulder. “Don’t be that surprised. I mean, come on, I spend way more time with you than anyone else. Surely you noticed that.”

“I’m noticing it now,” Jojo excuses himself.

You laugh. He’s certainly got all the time in the world to think about it now. You’re happy, he’s happy, and nothing could possibly be better.

newsies tag list: @lovesanimals0000, @misguidedswagger, @thatfangirl42, @amortensie

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lmelodymusicl · 10 months

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Melody’s Movie Reviews #1: Newsies (1992)

Hey guys. Welcome to the very first post of Melody’s Movie Reviews.

Today, I’m going to be reviewing Newsies (1992). Yes, the original movie version with Christian Bale. I watched for the first time at the beginning of the year and I enjoyed it. And then, I watched it again just four months ago

Here were my exact thoughts while watching Newsies (1992):

Hearing Max Casella’s voice at the opening really made me excited.

I felt so bad for all these little boys sleeping on top of the statue without any shoes on their feet. It was pretty heartbreaking.

Boots is literally me when I don’t want to get up. All the boys are basically a mood for anyone who isn’t a morning person.

Me and my mom were watching this, and she was disgusted at the fact that Snitch had his feet on Itey’s face, and they were both dirty.

Christian Bale is adorable in this scene.

And of course, Snipeshooter takes Racetrack’s cigars for no reason. Ugh! Snipeshooter always gets on my nerves. No wonder he’s my least favorite!

Carrying The Banner starts playing and I’m loving every second of it. The choreography and the chemistry with the boys. It’s so obvious that all the boys vibed together in real life off-set, and that’s one of the thing I love about this movie.

Oh, geez, it’s those Delancey brothers. And they go picking on Snipeshooter for no reason. Snipeshooter isn’t my favorite, but he still doesn’t deserve it.

Racetrack really said “only I'm allowed to pick on Snipeshooter.”

Jack’s play-fight with the Delanceys is very entertaining to see. A

In this scene, we’re introduced to Davey and Les. I can already tell that I’m going to like this.

I love how these boys mock Wiesel by calling him Weasel.I would do the same thing.

Les is sooo cute when he sits next to Jack! And their interactions are really sweet!

I like how David doesn’t want anything to do with Jack at first, but Les instantly connects with him. Also, the part where Jack squishes his face is so cute!

Instantly as the newsies sell their papers, Pulitzer comes on the scene.

Even Seitz has more common sense in his little finger than Pulitzer and his cronies combined.

Oh, No! Here comes big jerk Snyder the Spider. My mom didn’t know why he was chasing Jack, so I had to explain it to her halfway.

Ann-Margaret is amazing as Medda. And I loved her interaction with Les. It’s so adorable!

Here’s where we meet the Jacobs family. I love how everyone takes a liking to Jack. And I especially love how he takes a liking to Sarah from the very beginning. Les singing “Lovey-Dovey Baby” in his sleep is so funny!

This is where Jack and Davey become friends. And this is where Santa Fe starts playing. And let me tell you how excited I was when that song played. 92sies has the best version of Santa Fe. Christian Bale didn’t have to go so hard, but he did!

I will never forgive Kenny Ortega for cutting out the lasso scene, especially since Christian worked so hard on it.

This is where The World Will Know starts playing. It’s a great song, and 92sies’ version is the best one! Everyone did such an amazing job!

This where we meet Bryan Denton, and he has such chemistry with David. Also, David is so adorable in this scene when he’s blushing! I knew that Jack and Les would be kicked out the doors, but Jack is a badass as always in this scene. So is Les!

This is where we meet Spot Conlon for the first time. To be honest, I thought I was going to hate him, but then I instantly started to like him!

Les repeating “real hoity toity” is so freaking adorable. Matter of fact, everything he does in this movie is so adorable!

Seize the Day is just starting and I’m already pumped. David Moscow really went hard for this number! And he didn’t have any dance training at all!

The little newsies during Seize the Day are so cute! Especially Boots, Les, and Flipper!

Jack making faces at Weasel against the window never fails to make me laugh!

I was literally screaming when Crutchy got taken away to the Refuge.

I’ve only seen Ten-Pin for two seconds and I really don’t like him. The way he insulted ed Crutchy by calling him a g*mp is absolutely disgusting. Movie Jack didn’t take well to that! Musical Jack just called Crutchy a cr*p without any qualms!

Aaaannnnd here’s Big Jerk Snyder!

The boys singing during Seize The Day (Chorale) sound like a choir of angels, and I’m loving it. The choreography is absolutely amazing and it reminds me of Michael Jackson.

It’s so adorable how the little newsies made drums for this number.

Annnd here’s Spot Conlon and Brooklyn! I was clapping when they arrived! I was cheering when they won and Denton took the picture!

This is when King of New York starts playing! The tap dancing is amazing, but I bet the costumers were thinking “Those kids are ruining the tables.”

I always skip this scene of the confrontation between Snyder and Crutchy because I can sence that something even worse is gonna happen.

Sarah and Jack didn’t even have that many scenes together, but they had more chemistry than musical Jack and Katherine did.

I really like Seitz. He knows that what Pulitzer is doing is wrong!

Ooh, the Rally scene (aka, the scene where everything gets real). And I was singing along during High Times, Hard Times. Also, seeing Medda with all the newsies was so entertaining to see! They’re just vibing!

Aaaand here comes Big Jerk Snyder, again. I can tell that things are gonna go wrong, again!

Seeing Racetrack being brutally attack made me so mad that I shouted out “NO! Leave Racetrack alone.” This scene pissed me off the first time I saw it!

Pulitzer and Snyder just piss me off already.

I can tell that Jack has been broken down during the Santa Fe reprise.

The scene where Jack scabs breaks my heart. Everyone is pissed off at Jack and Mush is more sad and heartbroken!

I really hate Weisel!

Jack kicking the Delanceys’ butts for messing with his girlfriend and his best friends made me root for him, even after he scabbed.

This version of Once and For All is a lot better and catchier, especially since there was no unnecessary electric guitar. The way every working kid in New York came together, whether it be a chimney sweep, or a sweatshop kid, makes me very happy! It shows that child labor hurt everyone, not just the newsies.

That part where Jack nearly leaves for Santa Fe really got me!

And now Jack made Les cry!

Seeing Les cry was really heartbreaking! I would’ve hugged him and cupped his chubby cheeks!

Everyone’s just standing there waiting to get their papers and then suddenly, Jack comes back! And then he makes out with Sarah!

I love how Spot rode back to Brooklyn in a carriage!

Yeah, I love the movie version better than Broadwaysies and Livesies!

#newsies #newsies 1992 #1992sies #92sies #melody's movie reviews

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withoutcontxt · 2 years

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Because the wonderful @varibean asked, my secret theater kids vat7k au vomit. But because I have have like 3 different ones, we’re only doing one.

So same general time frame that vat7k happens in, not modern because i said so. Not much difference

Starting with Varian: He definately had to take piano lassons as a child, and Old Corona’s piano teacher just so happens to have done music for a lot of local plays and shows that happen. They kinda introduce Varian to everything, and turns out it’s really cool playing for a musical! So much so that he volenteers to play for them often, even auditioned a couple of times just for shits and made the part for a background character or small role.

Of course he gets older and the whole villain arc happens, nothing really changes there, but once he gets redeemed and he becomes the Royal Engineer he goes back to playing piano when he has some free time. Definately has some friends at a local theater in Corona and has found himself with a role or two in one of the shows. The only thing is he’s never really told many people about him being a theater kid or knowing how to play piano, his dad knows of course but he just kinda forgot to really tell Eugene, Rapunzel, or Cass. It never came up is all.

He’d probably like Wicked, Heathers, Chicago, maybe even Hamlet, and primarily finds being a narrator fun, since he’s not on the stage much and, if they’ll let him, can still just play the piano.

Yong I think would be more of a tech kid for this au, it’s just no one wants him near the lights casue you know. He’d love to work with them though! One of the things he’s hoping, is that once he can figure out how to not make everything explode that he tinkers with, he can work with them more often. He’s definately almost set fire to the props at least one though. Probably would like Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.

Nuru would have been introduced to theater through watching it, obviously. The first time she saw a play, she imedently knew that’s what she wanted to do one day. She actively makes donations to theater groups across her kingdom and has definately, on the very rare occasion, been in a show. Most often of times she is watching them though. She definately takes ballet though, when she isn’t studying astronomy or other things. Not a lot of people in her personal life know she does these things though, just her family.

She’d probably likes ballets more, but I can see her loving The Sound of Music, maybe even Hamilton.

Hugo however, I think would be the most surprising when findong out he likes musicals. He was introduced to the theater when he was young, maybe 9, I think, went inside to hide from some people chasing him on the street. Ever since then, he’s hidden away in the theater to get away from anything, cops, angry salesmen, other thieves, life, and so on. The first couple of times a show might have been playing, and he stuck around to watch, finding he quite liked it.

It was around the 5th time he ducked in he met Donelle for the first time, and she saw this tiny, probably not even 10 y/o kid and went “He’s mine now,” and took him under her wing. (I am such a sucker for Momelle) I like to think he took ballet lessons to aid him in being a thief, but he’ll also use those lessons to help him audition for shows. Don of course knows about it, she knows everything, and even will go to shows to watch Hugo. She’ll admit he’s great dancer, but definately won’t tell another soul that Hugo loves theater as much as her. Cyrus would never let her live it down how much Hugo is like her.

Hugo would probably like Chicago (similarly to Varian), Newsies, and would take to his grave that Annie is his favorie musical of all time. Ballet is his favorite to play in of course, he likes to show off.

How they figured each other out is the dumbes thing though, I’d like to imagine it had to do with getting information on a totem or something. Like all four of them were invited to a fancy party, or they went uninvited, or something and they need a distraction so someone can go and get whatever it is from the other person.

Varian turns to Nuru, Yong, and Hugo and says quietly, “I have an idea, you might not like it, but it’ll work. Quick question, can any of you dance?”

All of them, slightly taken aback by the random question but hopeful yet that the four of them have a chance get the information they need to get to the next trial, pause for a long moment. Genuinly thinking about their answers. That is until Hugo eventually shrugs he shoulders, not seeing the harm in dancing or Varian’s plan he has yet explained to the rest of them. They all knew he was flexible, and in the worst case scenario, he thought to himself, he would just be doing some basic ballet. Nothing that can incriminate him.

“Perfect!” Varian exclaims suddenly, “Nuru, you know how to convince our guy to hand over what we need. Yong if anything happens, use your fireworks. Hugo follow me!”

And all of a sudden Hugo in no longer standing with Yong and Nuru, having been suddenly grabbed and brought about 2 feet away from a small platform that hosts a band of 6, by Varian. The four stop playing the gentle tune just as the shorter of two walks up to them.

He doesn’t even hear what Varian says to the small group, too caught up in trying to figure out when Varian got so strong, but they all look at each other and nod. Seeming to go along with whatever the young, dark haired individual had said. It’s right when Varian turns back around to Hugo that it hits him, Varian wants him to show off his ballet skills. The same skill set that he hadn’t really expressed to his three companions much, if ever.

The next five minutes go as accordingly:

Varian, who didn’t even notice the ever growing sense of doom Hugo was feeling, picked the boy up and brought him unto the platform with him and then set him down. Spouting something about trusting Hugo enough to know what he was doing, which did not warm his heart a little bit, nope.

The entirety of the of the ball room looked at the stage, wanting to know why two strange youn men have joined the band on stage.

Varian sits at the small piano in the corner off the stage, and plays what sounds like the most beautiful melody the blonde had ever heard, with the band of 6 joining in soon after.

The gears in Hugo’s head start moving agian, and he dances.

From there Nuru and Yong get whatever it is they needed, Varian and Hugo finish up, and they get the hell outa dodge before security shows up to kick them out. Because mid way through the performance, that was definately the sound of fireworks going off, and Varian and Hugo were not ment to be on stage playing to what was a jazz/more active tune.

They get to whatever inn they’re staying at and from there they all talk about nothing but theater for the rest of the night.

Goodnight Everybody! That was my take.

This was so long, I’m so sorry.

#I am never going to shut up about this au oMG #this has been living rent free in my brain for days #wasn't ment to be this long but oh well #i shoudl write about this but im probably not #vat7k varigo #hugo vat7k #varian vat7k #nuru vat7k #yong vat7k #vat7k #varian and the 7 kingdoms #varian and the seven kingdoms #OmLjkwH'';h #this took so long to write #im sorry #varigo

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newsiesfandomsurvey · 2 years

Text

Some Preliminary Results!

We have been busy crunching the numbers, and we’re back with some results! In this post, we’ll talk about some basic demographics of the newsies fandom: Age, Gender, and where they’re from! If you find this interesting, please let us know what you’d like to see in another post.

So... the data.

We conducted a survey of Newsies fans between late May and December 2021. Fans had to be at least 18 years of age and able to provide informed consent. The survey and advertisement were in English. It was shared on various social media platforms. No identifying information (IP addresses, precise locations, birthdates, or names) were collected, although participants were about to answer some free response questions in ways that might have identified them.

You can learn more about the questions and find all the results on Github.

We had 160 unique respondents who consented to participate. (One person did not consent and two people submitted their survey results twice.) You can see spikes and plateaus in the recruitment data; we think most people participated when they saw a reblog or retweet! Most people found the survey through Tumblr.

[ID: A two panel figure. On the left, a plot showing the cumulative number of respondents to the survey over time. The x-axis shows months between May and December 2021, the y-axis shows cumulative number of participants. There are a series of spikes, with the largest jump in May, followed by spikes in August and November/December. The right panel shows a barchart with the number of people who found the survey through Tumblr (n=109), Twitter (n=21), Facebook (n=9), or had it shared by a friend (n=22). End ID]

Age

We asked about age, discretized into groups of 18-21, 22-25, 25-29, 30-34, 35-40, 41-45, and over 45. We were not able to include people under 18 in the survey because of certain quirks of the university ethics approval we received. This means our results are biased away from younger fans, but hopefully also gives a picture of the fandom. More than 60% of our respondents were under 25! So, Newsies seems like a young fandom. However, we also had 12 respondents over 40, maybe meaning that once you’re a fansie, you stick with it.

[ID: A bar chart of ages among survey participants. There are six groups: Ages 18-21 (70 respondents, 43.8%), 22-25 with 28 respondents, 17.5%), 26-30 (20 respondents, 12.5%), 31-35 (12 respondents, 7.5%), 36-40 (18 respondents, 11.2%) and 41 and older (12 respondents, 7.5%). End ID]

Gender

We also asked about gender in two questions: first, “What gender do you identify as?” and second, “Are you trans?.” We allowed some free text responses, as well as the four single choice options. Based on those responses, we added one new category, “Questioning,” based on responses like “IDK, gender is hard” and “I’ll let you know when I do.” We also had two answers which were combined into the genderqueer category. (Our ethics requireed us to collapse unique demographic categories into more common names or otherwise mask individual-level data).

Maybe unsurprisingly, most people who responded were women. More surprisingly, while none of the women who responded were trans, about 60% of the men were. In the pie charts below, the proportion of cis respondents are show in red, the proportion trans are shown in light blue, and black reflects those who chose not to respond; black in the bar charts does not reflect whether someone is cis or trans.

[ID: A bar chart showing gender distributions in the Newsies fandom with pie charts showing transgender identity for each gender. Genders were female (109 people, 68.1% with 100% cis participants); Male (n=12, 7.5%; with 2/3 trans respondents); Nonbinary (n=27, 16.9%; 2 non-respondents, 2/3 respondents were trans); Genderqueer (n=6, 3.8%, 2/3 trans), questioning (n=4, 2.5%), and 2 did not respond. End ID.]

Location

We had respondents all over the world. The map highlights countries respondents were from. The colors are meaningless and simply intended to highlight the locations where people live.

[ID: A world map showing where people who responded to the survey lived. Countries included the US, Canada, Brazil, United Kingdom, Ireland, Italy, France, Spain, The Netherlands, Sweden, Thailand, and Australia. End ID]

We were also able to look at US states. People who responded lived in the states that are colored on the map; the colors are once again independent of the number of people.

[ID: States where respondents live. You can find the full list of 35 states here: https://raw.githubusercontent.com/jwdebelius/newsies-survey/main/data/states.txt. END ID]

What’s next?

We have a lot more survey results! If you’d like to access the data, you can find it on our GitHub page. We’ve got the code that was used to analyze this data, plus some more analysis that we didn’t present here.

We’d like to do more of these posts if there’s interest! What other things would you be interested in knowing about: Favorite media, Favorite ships, Favorite characters, queer identities, fandom participation, or something else?

Thanks!

We want to thank everyone who participated in the survey!

We’d also like to thank @color--pals for permission to use their lovely color palette!

#newsies #newsies fandom #fandom census #newsies 1992 #newsies live #jack kelly #spot conlon #david jacobs #disneys newsies

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livesincerely · 2 years

Text

take a shot (but how’s your aim?) ch. 6 - interlude: ceasefire

Also on Ao3. Chapter five here.

00000

Racetrack is still straddling the line between pissed off and goddamn furious by the time the gates open up, scuffing the toe of his boot against the cobblestones and cursing Jack’s name six ways from Sunday. Then he sees Davey making his way down the road, sees the look on his face, and his heart just about falls through his stomach.

“Aw, hell, Davey,” Racetrack exclaims, rushing over. “What the fuck did he do now?”

Davey’s lips twitch, like he’s trying to fake a smile but can’t quite manage it.

“It’s nothing,” he says, his eyes red rimmed and bloodshot. “I’m fine.”

“Like hell you are,” Racetrack says, linking his arm through one of Davey’s own and leading him away from the distribution line. “C’mon, we’s takin’ a day.”

“Race, I’m fine,” Davey protests.

“You are not fucking fine,” Race disagrees whole heartedly. “Your heart’s been gettin’ stomped on every which way ta Sunday—the last thing you need is ta spend the day out in the broiling’ sun sellin’ papes. We’re takin’ a day.”

“Race,” Davey tries again, but Racetrack just keeps pulling him along, undeterred.

“Hey, Al!” Racetrack shouts when he spots him on the other side of Newsies Square, waving him over. Albert jogs towards them, his expression twisting up with the same kinda worry that’s churning in Race’s gut when he gets a good look at Davey. “Me an’ Davey are takin’ a day. Can you mark us down in the ledger or whatever, when you get a chance?”

Davey sighs. “This isn’t really what the sick day funds are meant for,” he mutters under his breath.

“What’s the point of ‘em, then, if not ta use ‘em when ya need ‘em?” Race counters, squaring his shoulders.

“You should take a day, Davey,” Albert offers, eyes sweeping critically over Davey’s form. “It ain’t like ya don’t deserve one an’, frankly, you look like shit.”

“Gee, thanks,” Davey says, scrubbing his hands over his face. “You sure know how to lift a guy’s spirits, Albert.”

“You know what I mean,” Albert says. “Why don’t ya stop tryin’ so hard ta be okay an’ power through and jus’ take it easy for once? It’s one day, Davey, it ain’t the end of the world. ‘S not like anyone would hold it against ya.”

“You heard the man,” Race chimes in, clapping Davey on the back. “You’re out voted—we’re takin’ a day.”

Davey heaves another sigh. “Fine.”

…

The Brooklyn Bridge is full of people at this time of day, everyone in a hurry to get to where they’re going. There’s something peaceful about the chaos, though, something soothing about just standing there, watching, as the rest of the world rushes past you.

Or at least, that’s what Racetrack hopes anyway, watching Davey out of the corner of his eye. God knows he could use a bit of soothing.

They stand there for a good long while, neither of them talking—not needing to talk—the mist blowing up from the water tickling at their faces. Eventually, however, Davey turns away, staring out over the East River with that far away look of his, his face drawn and pale.

Quietly, so quietly that Race can barely hear him over the wind, he says, “He’s in love with her, Racetrack.”

“Bullshit,” Race denies immediately, shaking his head. “You can’t possibly believe that.”

“You saw them, didn’t you?” Davey asks, picking at his fingernails. “The flowers he bought for her?”

“You mean the ones you helped him find?” Racetrack scowls. “Yeah, I saw ‘em. Just about knocked his teeth in when he told me he dragged you along to pick ‘em out. But, Davey, they’s jus’ flowers, they don’t mean nothin’—“

“He told me himself, Race,” Davey murmurs tonelessly. “He’s in love with her.”

“Then I guess he’s lost his damn mind,” Race says. “‘Cause he ain’t in love with her, he’s in love with you.” Davey scoffs, ducking his head. “He is, Davey. You… you don’t see the way he looks at ya, the way he talks about ya when you’re not around. I’m tellin’ ya, he’s in love with you.”

“He’s not,” Davey says, simple as that, and the fact that he’s so resigned about it only makes Race want to scream that much more.

“Well, you’re in love with him,” Race counters, because that one’s impossible to argue with.

“So?” Davey asks. “What does that matter?”

“Wha—?” Racetrack splutters. “Of course it fuckin’ matters! You’re in love with him!”

“And he’s happy with her,” Davey says. “Aren’t we supposed to be happy for him?”

“I’ll be happy for him when he stops actin’ like such an idiot,” Racetrack declares. “When he stops fuckin’ everythin’ up, when he stops makin’ you cry—“

“Race,” Davey says softly. “Jack hasn’t done anything wrong.”

And that takes the wind right out of his sails. He swallows hard. “Dave…”

“He hasn’t,” Davey insists. “He doesn’t owe anyone an explanation, okay? Not you, not me, none of us. Just because I’m…” He crosses his arms over his chest, his mouth pressed into a thin line. “Well, that’s on me. That’s my problem. It’s not Jack’s fault that he doesn’t feel the same way.”

“But he does, Davey,” Racetrack says because he just can’t let that part go, even as guilt and hopelessness duke it out in his gut. “It’s… he does.”

Davey smiles at him then, and it’s just about the saddest thing he’s ever seen: paper thin and more brittle than glass.

“You’re a wonderful friend, Tony,” he says. “But it’s not up to you to fix this. There’s nothing to fix. It just… is.”

Racetrack can’t meet his eyes. They stare out at the water for a few more minutes, standing shoulder to shoulder.

“For what it’s worth, Dave,” Race eventually says. “I’m real sorry ‘bout all’a this.”

Davey lets out a long breath. “It would’ve happened eventually—if not now, with Maggie, then at some point down the line. I guess it’s better to go ahead and get it over with.”

He looks at Racetrack then, and carefully continues with, “And speaking of Maggie, you need to apologize to her.”

“…I know,” Racetrack admits, shamefaced. “I know it ain’t her fault, I do, but I jus’ look at her an’ all I can think about is how much she’s hurtin’ you.”

“It’d be easier if she was awful,” Davey muses. “If she was a terrible person and I could justify hating her, but she isn’t. She’s honestly really nice—I get what Jack sees in her. And you know, if you gave her a chance, you might end up liking her too. Maybe you’d even be friends.”

“You’re my friend,” Race bites out, and that’s a truth that lives deep in the heart of him, etched right into his bones. “I’m not gonna— You’re my friend, Dave. You.”

The sudden declaration leaves Davey speechless for a moment. “Alright,” he says hoarsely. “I… alright. But, you should still apologize.”

“I will,” Race swears. “We ain’t gonna be no bosom buddies but I’ll make things right with her. I owe her that much, at least.”

“Good,” Davey sighs. “And, lay off of Jack a little, yeah? He still doesn’t know about… everything… and he’s trying his best, okay?”

“I ain’t makin’ no promises,” Race grumbles. “I still think he’s actin’ like a fuckin’ moron—he deserves all’a this an’ more.”

“Just try, please?” Davey pleads. “If not for Jack, then for me?”

“Fine,” Race mutters. “I’ll try.”

“Thank you,” Davey says. “I… seriously, Tones. Thank you. For everything.”

Race curls an arm around Davey’s shoulders and squeezes. “Don’t even mention it.”

00000

Chapter seven here

Tag list!

@yahfancyclamwiththepurlinside

@dr-charlie-eppes

@stroopwafeldetective

@amillionandonefandoms

@dreams-and-bones

@mainstreamelectricalparade

@wineandhargreeves

@thenoteworthyhelen

@rag-tag-ragamuffin

@ill-purple-your-nurple

#newsies #javid #david jacobs #racetrack higgins #*editor's note #*the writing desk #*final cut #take a shot fic #the Ravey friendship is everything #I love them 🥹#sorry to everyone that just saw the draft of this the other day #don’t mean to crowd your dash #hope you enjoy

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emmedoesntdomath · 10 months

Note

emme i am in need of assistance.

i need to be dragged kicking and screaming back into the newsies fandom, please and thank you

you know what? fine, sure, let’s do this.

in this fun little drag-you-by-your-ears-and-force-you-to-listen-to-me, we’ll be talking about javey.

obviously, javey is the lifeblood behind most of this lovely fandom. look at your own account. besides the synchronized dance numbers, it’s about the most the majority of us agree on (with a few exceptions, but we love them anyway <3333 /j)

but why is javey such a phenomenon to us? why is it that big of a deal? let’s explore that.

javey is, in simple terms, something that can quickly become revolutionary.

don’t understand what I mean? consider it-

most of us headcanon jack to be a person of color. whether he’s black, or of latinx descent, jack is not normally white. in a lot of cases, people don’t even believe english to be his first language. with these very intentional choices, you are already taking marginalized groups, and giving them a voice. groups, that for most of history, have been shunned, or outright ignored. and to see jack kelly, a character not defined by his parentage or skin color, simply *living*. making choices, mistakes, wrong decisions, without being turned into a performative political message by a major corporation. he’s just jack kelly. and his existence speaks louder than words ever could.

and all of this can be said before we even mention what else he could represent, could mean to all of us.

he’s a kid from the streets, or the more modernized foster care. he’s not the sad, lonely, discouraged orphan kid that needs saving. no, jack kelly is going to get off his ass, and do it himself. he’ll run away. earn a living. he is our defiance, he is our rebellion and independence.

he has dreams, big ones. ones that we relate to. he wants to run to santa fe? well, guess fucking what? we do, too. wants to be given a little respect, a little worth? maybe we relate to that.

he is the poster child of found family. and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re all pretty big on that in this fandom.

so, let’s put it this way- jack is a lot of us. most of us, maybe.

but so is davey.

davey is a canonically (or maybe not, but I say it’s canon) jewish character. in a world that reeks of antisemitism, that is ridiculously important. he, too, represents more than just himself. there is a whole history of a people hated and brutally punished for simply existing. he is another character who isn’t restricted, forced to be but yet another stereotype or one-note idea, but who just exists. you don’t realize how huge that is. representation and the explicitness of modern media is great, and very much needed. but it is just as powerful, if not more so, to let a character be without making it a display.

to compound this all, he is the epitome of religious struggles. our davey has internalized homophobia, self-hatred, and more crises in faith than he has time to count. and I would say at least half of the people that I have met in this fandom can identify with one or more of those things. that’s valuable. especially when you consider that a lot of those things are essentially taboo in a number of regards.

he’s from a working class family. he’s not rich, not swimming in bills. he’s missing school every day to go to work so his family might eat the next week. and that’s a reality for a lot of people.

putting them together, we have- a man, a person of color, who has seen the shit end of life that a lot of other people do, falling in love with another man, one burdened with mental struggles and a heritage that carries just as much weight as the heaviest, in a time period when it was literally illegal to do so.

they are people. they are representations. they are silent messages to the world. they are love. they are queer. they are happy. they are a family. they are revolutionary. they aren’t wrong. they aren’t broken. they aren’t hate.

javey thrives because they are us, and by letting them thrive, we are hoping we will, too.

(newsies, with more layers and deeper meanings than one could have ever hoped for since 1234)

ta da.

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yeehawesome · 2 years

Text

My thoughts while watching persuasion as a person who has not read the book but is mildly obsessed with Northanger Abbey and Pride & Prejudice:

- premarital kissing?? UNCHAPERONED???

- her dads jacket looks like they were trying to copy the Emma wardrobe and failed

- “you’re a bath 13” who made this movie. Who. Who thought this was a good idea.

- “I’m an empath” GOOD LORD

- I haven’t read the book but aren’t they supposed to be not talking to each other this much??

- NOOO (window yelling)

- NOOOOO (jam scene)

- NOOOOO (Charles wanted to marry me)

- and referring to him by his Christian name?? Before marriage?? In public???? This is not how it is done

- NOOOOOOOO (she’s trying to use the restroom in the woods)

- is Wentworth this painfully awkward in the books? Man looks like he’s crying when he laughs

- “I’m not your older brother, you don’t need my protection?” I should just put up my laptop and go to sleep

- it’s halfway through the movie and they’re confessing their feelings where is the PINING

- oh wait he would like to be friends

- based on people’s summaries I don’t think that is supposed to happen

- “I truth” is that proper grammar

- “now we’re worse than exes. We’re friends” I hate you Netflix.

- why is she walking INTO THE SEA in her NIGHTGOWN in ENGLAND in the MORNING does she want to catch ILL

- at least Henry Golding is cute

- oh gross he’s her cousin nasty nasty nasty

- “catch me captain” and jumping into his arms??? Before marriage?? In the full view of the public??! That is NOT how things are DONE

- that fall was so over the top what the heck

- “Anne is perfect” geez someone help this man

- and nooooooow he’s going to her for advice that isn’t healthy babes

- “he is a ten. I never trust a ten” NO NO NO what have they DONE to you Jane, why do they besmirch your name with this

- “he’s been nursing a crush on me” I am not pleased

- why is he telling her his plan

- he is hot tho

- why are Anne’s sleeves sheer????? That is not remotely period accurate

- tell me the octopus scene did not happen in the book. Please tell me.

- why is it trying to make her a period piece manic pixie dream girl

- why is she wearing a newsies cap YOU ARE NOT SELLING PAPERS MADAM

- oh and she’s using Elliot to make him jealous

- “thanks” nothing about their use of that word is particularly terrible but I truly abhor the informality

- a hand on the waist?? In public??? Before marriage??? Do they care nothing of SOCIETY

- also Anne’s gloves do not seem period appropriate, or at least appropriate for her status

- stop touching Harville’s shoulder casually you are of no blood relation and he is married

- okay and the cousin is kissing the woman who was hitting on his uncle

- oooh and the indie song to Anne and Wentworth making out. Tasteful.

- why are they hugging for so long

- apparently Elliot genuinely loved the lady so that’s good

- unrelated but Dakota Johnson looks like Anne Hathaway

#persuasion #anne elliot #captain wentworth #persuasion netflix #jane austen

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sl-newsie · 1 year

Text

Chapter Twenty Eight: Christmas: Part 4 (Spot Colon x Female Newsie)

It ain’t any warmer today, and tha wind ain’t any calmer. We all move togedda, try’n to shield tha cold. I almost slip at least three times, and Danny almost five! After we grt off tha bridge, tha ‘Hattan buildings provide some shield’n from tha wind. As soon as I see tha lodg’n house, I see Crutchy wait’n by tha window. He sees us, smiles, and goes off to tell Jack. In no time at all, my big brodda’s bound’n toward me with tha fellas close behind him.

“Becca! Ya made it! Merry Christmas, sis!”

“Merry Christmas, Jack! Now- Now will you’s let me breathe so I can actually hug ya back?”

“Hiya, Becs!” Race squeezes me.

“Hi!” I wheeze. “Good to see you too, Race!”

“Merry Christmas!” Mush gives me an even tights hug, followed by Crutchy who goes easy on me.

“It weren’t tha same without you here!”

“Well, I’s is here now. So what’re we do’n taday?”

“Stay’n warm!” Snipeshooter grumples, shiver’n. “Let’s go back in before I turn to ice!”

“Actually, that ain’t a bad idea!” Jack laughs.

“When’s David come’n?”

“Noon.”

Inside, tha lodg’n house gives off a cozy glow and provides a welcome’n warmth. But while tha fellas go upstairs, I secretly sneak over and take out tha gifts I’s gotten and pile them near tha door- seem’n as if a stranger left ‘em there. I take tha candy canes and oranges with me, though.

I then head up and join in on a card game, and pass out tha striped treats and bright-colored fruit.

“Aw, Becca. You’s didn’t have to-” Boots starts.

“Yeah, I did, Boots. You’s tha best family I’s could ever wish for, and we needs someth’n sweet. Please, enjoy!”

All tha kids luv ‘em, and I can tell tha olda fellas do too. Spot catches my eye and gives me a wink.

Race breaks it up. “Alright, alright! Enough mushy stuff for today! Who’s bet’n?”

We all groan.

“Race, you’s could’nt find a reason not to bet in a Catholic church!” Blink complains.

“Yeah! It’s Christmas! We don’t need to gamble!” Skittery agrees.

“We should make that a rule every Christmas,” Jack muddas at me.

“Fiiinnneee. We won’t gamble, but I’s still gonna be use’n a poker face.”

“And you’ll do just fine at it,” I say encourag’nly.

“Let’s play Hearts!” Crutchy suggests.

“Me thinks Becca and Spot’ve already done that!” Mush teases.

“Can it, Romeo. Are ya play’n or not?” Spot defends me.

“Ok, I’ll shut up! Deal me in!”

Boots deals tha cards, and we all sit in a circle around tha bunks, with me next ta Spot and Jack.

“Four-o clubs goes foist.”

Rats. I got tha Queen, and no Spades to back her up. But I don’t got many Diamonds…

I look around, and see I ain't tha only one who don’t like their hand. I godda keep a blank face…

Afta a few rounds of Clubs and Diamonds, I’s got tha next round to throw tha Queen, and I think tha fellas’re get’n noivous. Jack is mess’n with his bandanna, Race keeps tap’n his foot, and Spot keeps play’n with his hair- all signs of future victory.

Just to mess with Spot, I slowly take turns touch’n his leg with my foot, get’n an annoyed glare from his calculate’n eyes.

Race leads tha next round- Clubs again!

Afta Spot throws a three, I look over at Jack with mock’n eyes.

“Sorry, Jack.” I whip out tha Queen, and everybody groans.

“Cowboy takes thirteen!” Race cheers.

“Becca! I’s thought you’d go easy on me!” Jack dramatically places a hand over his heart.

“And lose to Race? I don’t think so!”

“Do that again and I’ll throw ya in a snowbank!” Jack threatens, pick’n me up like hackysack and dangl’n me over his shoulda.

I look upside-down at Spot. “You ain’t gonna help me?”

I see him laugh’n hysterically. “Not when this is so funny!”

“Who’s getting thrown in a snowbank?” I hear behind me.

Jack turns to tha voice, and I’m faced with all tha smile’n newsies.

“Who is it? Who is it? Jack, I can’t see-!”

“Merry Christmas, David!”

“Um... we don’t...” David trails off.

“We’re Jewish,” Les says with a smile.

Jack grins back. “I know, Les. Sarah told me all ‘bout it! But it’s nice-a you’s to join us anyway! By the way, how’s Sarah-?”

“I knew you were gonna ask that, Jack!” I grin.

“She’s good. Her and my folks are staying home. Les really wanted to see Angel-”

“Mittens!” Les cheers as Angel herself runs over from tha kids group and gives him a big hug.

“She been wait’n for you, Les.” Blink says.

“Where’s Becca?” David asks, look’n around.

Jack smirks, turns around and shows David- me, hung helpless over his back and my fave turn’n red.

“Hi, David! Sorry to hang around like this, but Jack started it!”

“We’s was just start’n to play cards!” Jack says ta David. “Come on, join us!”

David frowns. “Is there…?”

“Ha! No, David. There ain’t no bet’n!” I laugh.

“Ok, then I’ll play.”

“Swell! Deal ‘em in, Boots.” Race says impatiently.

“When do you want us to go get the gifts?” David asks openly.

All tha guys stare at him.

“You know- the gifts placed by the door?”

“What?!”

All of ‘em pile out tha door, with Jack still hold’n me upside-down. This leads to me hit’n my head against the wall.

“Ow! Hey- Jack! Put me-!”

“Wow!” All tha kids marvel. I’s can’t see their faces, but their gasps are payment enough!

Just now, Jack loses his grip and I plop onto the floor.

“Ow!”

“Rebecca, did you…?” Jack looks at me dumbfounded.

I can’t hide my smile. “Maybe…”

“Aw, Becca!” Crutchy limps over and squeezes me in a hug. “Ya really shouldn't have!”

“Yeah. You’s-” Mush stops and chokes down a sob, clearly with tears of joy.

My smile widens. “Oh, Mush!”

I wrap my arm around his shoulder as he wipes his face off.

“It’s noth’n guys, really it ain’t. Now will ya open your gifts before ya cry yourselves a river?”

All tha kids quickly oblige, and tear through the newspaper.

“Wow! These is a bunch-a letter blocks! Thanks Becca!”

“Whoa!”

“Thanks Beccy!”

All the fellas then open up the candy canes and bright-colored oranges.

“Aw, Becs!”

“Thanks Becca!”

Race walks over, hold’n his orange as if it were made-a gold, and looks at me.

“Thanks. I’s ain’t gett’n soft or noth’n, but… thanks.”

I give him a tight hug. “Your welcome, Race.”

“Did Spot get you’s anyth’n?”

I grin and lift up tha key on the chain. “Yeah, he did.”

Race squints at it. “I take it it’s symbolic?”

“Yeah, and it also ain’t your business. So back off.”

“Fair enough.”

“Becca- this is poirfect!” Jack calls, hold’n his new harmonica with a big grin on his face.

“Now you’s can play for us like a real Cowboy!” I laugh. “I also gots Sarah a gift, so you can give it to her for me.”

Jack frowns suspiciously. “What is it?”

“Relax, Jack! It’s a red hair ribbon! You knows I would never mess around with someth’n as important as Christmas, don’t ya?”

Tha kids play with their new toys while I help the older fellas prepare Christmas dinner. It ain't much, but we did pool our resources for a decent small chicken. Trouble is that I gotta fight off any snackers once the meat’s wonderful aroma fills the kitchen.

“Shoo! It ain’t done yet, and you’s gonna spoil your supper!” I swat at Jack.

Race and Mush groan. “C’mon, Becs! Just a little-?”

“NO!” I shove them out and shut the door. “Unless anybody plans on actually help’n instead-a steal’n vittles, stay out!”

“What if someone wants to steal you?” A deep voice says behind me as strong arms cling to my hips.

I gasp. “Wha- How…?” I turn around and come face-to-face with Spot. “I ain’t even gonna try to figure out how you got in here without Jack see’n!”

Spot kisses my forehead. “I’s just full-a surprises.”

I grin. “Does that include distract’n? ‘Cause I can’t keep nobody outdda here. If you could keep the oddas occupied I’s might actually get dinner done in time.”

Spot squeezes me in a hug one last time before he says: “I ain’t a social butterfly, but if my reward is a help’n-a that good-smell’n chicken, I’ll gladly oblige.”

He winks and struts out, leave’n me grinn’n like an idiot. Then I hear:

“Hey, it’s Spot!”

“What’s he do’n here?”

“Probably to see Becca.”

“Jack, quit glare’n! He ain’t break’n the law!” “Shut up, Mush!”

“Who’s in for a card game?”

“I’m game! What stakes?”

“No gamble’n, Racetrack!”

“Aw!”

I sign as I shake my head, baste’n the chicken.

In no time the chicken is done and I’s get’n the plates ready for the table.

“Joey, Dusty, Kenny! Get down here! Skippy, Henry, Matthew, Angel- you too!” I hollar.

I hear boots clomp’n down the stairs and head’n towards the kitchen. One by one, the giggl’n kids trot in.

“Please start set’n the table, and be careful- dis is the good plates,” I carefully hand the plates out. “Angel, please help me with the bread.”

She tries to mumble a response, but is unsuccessful.

“That’s ok, we’ll woik on that,” I give her a tight hug.

With the table set, I’m almost ready to sound the alarm- thought I godda admit the oddas have been eerily quiet…

“Kids, pick your spots at the table before the older kids do.” The little ones follow my advice and quickly claim chairs. “Fellas! Dinner time!” I shout upstairs.

“Yeah!!!” A cry of cheers erupts and the build’n sounds off like an earthquake. The guys come crash’n in and start brawl’n ova chairs. Once everybody’s settled down, I cautiously carry the chicken in from the kitchen. Everyone stops and stares in awe.

“Looks good, Becs!” Race says.

“Looks good? It smells good!” Mush drools.

“I call the wing!” PieEater announces.

“I get the dark meat!” Snipeshooter fights back.

“Can it! No one claims anyth’n!” I determine. I divide the meat up and pass the plate around, then go to sit next to Spot- who has teamed with Blink and Skittery to save me a seat.

“Crutchy, would you like to say Grace?” I ask.

He nods gratefully. We all join hands and close our eyes.

“Dear Lord, thank you for this wonderful Christmas we’s all have to share with each odda. This year’s truly been a new experience for all of us, both with high times and hard times. But we made it, and now we’s just thankful to be togedda. Thank you for bring’n Becca and Spot togedda, ‘cause life’s been so much bedda for them. Thank you for this wonderful chicken and the food we’s about to receive, and may we’s all continue to have anodda good year. Amen.”

“Amen,” we all chant.

“Ya had to bring that up?” Jack looks at Crutchy.

Crutchy shrugs. “It’s the truth, Jack. We’s all agree that Becca’s never been happier. Just ask her herself.”

I blush when Jack peers at me, then shrugs. “Guess so.”

Under the table, Spot squeezes my hand-which makes me blush harder.

“Enough argue’n, let’s eat!” Skittery says.

And we all dig in.

“Uggghhhh,” Blink groans. “Someone please kill me.”

“Only if you’ll spill open my guts,” Snipeshooter grunts back.

“I’ll never eat again!” Les complains.

Collapsed on the floor, I respond: “Glad to know you’s liked it.”

“Uh-huh,” everybody groans.

“So… what now?” Race asks.

“If you’s suggest’n a card game, I’ll soak ya,” Spot says from the couch. He motions to me, so I join him by curl’n up and lay’n my head on his chest.

“What ‘bout sing’n?” Joey suggests.

All the kids’ eyes light up. “Yeah!”

I grin. “Ok, ok. Somebody choose a song.”

We sing a few carols, and then Spot gets abruptly gets up and walks out. I don’t think much of it and go back to sing’n.

“Who wrote Christmas carols?” Dusty asks.

“I donno- some guy who had noth’n bedda to do,” Boots shrugs.

Then I hear it, a faint sound rise’n over the roar’n fire: an Irish whistle tune.

I look up, and sure enough, Spot Colon is play’n a whistle. A version of Noel, and it’s very good.

By now the oddas have looked up and notice Spot’s play’n, and when he’s done we all break out in applause.

“I didn’t know you coud play!” I grin proudly.

Spot winks. “Haven’t done it for years, but I figured this occasion was special. But now it’s time for you to sing!” He grips my arm and pulls me up as I shake my head.

“No, no, no- I ain’t sing’n by myself! It’s awkward and weird and-”

“Wonderful,” Spot says. “Your voice sounds gorgeous, Beauty. Please sing for us.”

Now the oddas join in.

“C’mon, Becs!” The kids plead.

“We won’t stop ask’n ‘til ya do!” Race snickers.

“Please, Becca?” David asks.

I groan in rejection but eventually give in and decide to sing someth’n biblical in a low octave.

“O Holy night, the stars are brightly shining.

It is the night of our dear Savior's birth.

Long lay the world in sin and error pining,

'Til He appeared and the soul felt its worth.

A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,

For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.

Fall on your knees,

O hear the angel voices.

O night divine!

O night when Christ was born.

O night divine!

O night, O night divine!

Truly He taught us to love one another.

His law is love and His gospel is peace.

Chains shall He break, for the slave is our brother

And in His name, all oppression shall cease.

Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we

Let all within us praise His holy name.

Christ is the Lord!

heir name forever praise we

Noel, Noel!

O night, O night divine!

Noel, Noel

O night, O night divine!”

I finish, and at foist nobody says anyth’n. Then Spot grasps my hand with one hand and holds my face with his odda.

“Beautiful. Ya sound so holy, sing’n like an angel,” Spot breathes, his eyes soft and full of luv.

“Yeah, Becca. I didn’t know you’s could sing like that,” Crutchy says.

“Me neither,” Jack says dumbfounded.

Merry Christmas, everybody!

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lgcxminji · 1 year

Text

MINJI was called to a meeting with her manager, PARK EUNSOOK.

while it was mentioned beforehand about what could be discussed to each of the members, there’s still a bit of uncertainty as to what EUNSOOK would say. “please sit down, MINJI.” EUNSOOK gave a sincere smile as she points towards the chair right across from her. the older woman turned her tablet towards MINJI as she shows some statistical data that would be hard for anyone to understand, but as EUNSOOK scrolls down on the document, the comments coming from the coaches are revealed. “many of our coaches have been analyzing the idols and their performances over the last few months, especially during the year end ceremonies. in addition to that, we have our marketing team checking to see how everyone is doing individually. as for you, we’re happy to say that you’ve received quite a number of compliments regarding your performances. they’ve noticed some improvement as a performer and are please to say that you’ve been doing a wonderful job as FABULA’s main dancer and lead vocalist.”

EUNSOOK then looked at MINJI as she began explaining some of the other comments she has seen as well. “some of the coaches encourage you to keep working on your ACTING, because we see so much potential in that and we believe that if those acting lessons paid off, you could be the main dancer that people should watch out for in legacy.” EUNSOOK smiled happily and proudly like an older sister. “they also suggested that it would be best for you to work a bit on your language skills as well, specifically with KOREAN and ENGLISH since we do have plans to promote FABULA overseas more. aside from that, keep up the good work. it makes me proud to have you be a part of FABULA.” she paused, thinking it was now MINJI’s time to express what she wanted to say. “now about you. when the time comes, what do you see yourself doing more of in the future? i know you’ve done an array of activities and gigs during your time as a trainee and even while being in FABULA, but we want to know — what do you enjoy doing aside from performing on stage?”

OOC NOTES:

the content of this submission is fully ic and doesn’t reflect our opinions ooc. the feedback is mostly based on the muse’s skill set and points. while you don’t HAVE to follow everything mentioned in the feedback, it’s highly recommended to do so for optimal results. once you have responded to this prompt, please tag this as lgc:perfreview and send the form below to the points blog before FEBRUARY 12, 2023 11:59PM EST so you can claim your points. as for the points, we’ve listed possible skills you can distribute the 10 points to. if you wish, you can distribute them across multiple skills instead of one (ex. +4 acting, +6 korean instead of +10 korean). your reply must have a minimum of 300 words (and this will count as post activity).

MUSE NAME ∙ PERFORMANCE REVIEW

- PR SUBMIT: +5 korean, +5 english [ LINK TO SUBMIT ]

minji sat still for a moment, just thinking. what did she want to do? who did she want to be? she didn’t have to think long, though. “this sounds silly, but aside from performing on stage, i love… performing on stage?” she giggled, letting her bubbly, youthful energy remain known to her manager despite the influx of new years resolutions she’s probably expected from the talkative girl. “don’t get me wrong, i have never ever second-guessed my desire to be an idol- to be a part of fabula,” she said, thinking back to the day she was revealed, about a whole year ago, to be a member of the group.

“i’ll be honest though, i did feel very jealous hearing about the newsies performance last fall. i knew why i couldn’t be a part of it, of course, and that was completely fine. my schedules with fabula will always come first. but i do miss being able to be a part of a stage production like that.” she had shared this feeling with her friends before, but never with her manager. it was quite nerve-racking, to say the least, but she knew what she wanted, and to get what she wanted, she had to make it clear that it was what she wanted.

“if you mean actually off stage, i am actually interested in acting in dramas and films as well,” she smiled. “that’s why i was so excited to be cast for the cameo on bullet inquiry; i thought it would be a great opportunity to try and see if i enjoy acting for the camera, or if i’d rather just focus on live performance, whether that be as an idol or in musicals.” she wanted to be clear that she had thought about this in advance. this wasn’t something she was saying for the sake of having something to say; this is truly what she wanted. finally, as a side note, she added: “i also really liked being in the cf for sola since that kind of goes hand-in-hand with acting!”

to close out the meeting, she decided to speak for her future not just as herself, but as a member of fabula. “i definitely agree with you on the skills i need to work on- i’m sure you could already tell based on what ‘extra’ coaching sessions i’ve been attending that acting was on my mind a lot lately. but, i’ll definitely work on my english and korean too,” the bilingual knew she was, somehow, rusty in both languages. a tune-up was definitely in order. she made sure to remember to add a few language sessions to her training schedule from then on. “thank you, eunsook-nim,” she smiled. and as she walked out the room, she punched the air; she’d forgotten to ask about the 'special someone’ at the bullet inquiry set.

#[ solo ]#lgc:perfreview

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