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newsies-and-the-nutcracker · 3 years

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Newsies but it’s French (Canadian) pt.2

(aka me just getting increasingly frustrated the longer it goes on until I’ve completely lost whatever bits of sanity I had left lol)

~ king of new york scene ~

“We’re in the papes??” “You’re in the papes.” why do I find this so funny help-

“For the good of Jack, we can stop complaining...” not the whole thing but that sounds so out of character for Race I can’t-

After a quick google search, I can confirm that Race says “The world is at our boots.”

The newsies are very confused

Apparently he was meant to say feet.

“I’m talking about our feet!”

…

hOW IN THE WORLD IS THAT EVEN CLOSE TO ‘THE WOILD IS YA ERSTER’-

Okay I’m done

“My own face on a piece of wood!” good for you ig

“I’m respectful. I’m looking at you.” please-

“I am pretty, am I not?” yes race you’re very pretty

“My own bed and an indoor toilet!” wait… does that mean you literally have a toilet outside?? In the open???

“Nothing more normal for a famous journalist!” Irdk how I’m supposed to process this-

“Leave, idiot! It’s her, the king of New York!” guys is this actually what he says in English?? Race why are you so m e a n

“Some…” *checks notes* “depressive defeatists” ?? I just want to know how you got that from “Buncha wet noodles”-

“We were on the verge of drowning ourselves in alcohol.” WHY AM I ONLY NOW FIGURING OUT WHAT SOME OF THESE LINES MEAN AS I’M WATCHING IT IN F R E N C H ???

They cut out a lot of the background comments during the dance break and now I’m sad

After Katherine’s little dance: “It’s a joke, I hope.” wow

“You’ll see what the Delancey’s do in their pants!” that sounds so wrong I-

“Friends can leave, let them be!” I don’t think that’s what they were trying to say but okay

~ letter from the refuge scene ~

“There’s guards here, they’re mean.” WOW JUST TEAR MY HEART OUT WHY DONTCHA-

“If they tell us to jump, we obey, if not we’re screwed.” ow

“The rooftop misses me.” I give up.

“It’ll go. I’m in shape.”

“End.” the only time they decide not the put ‘the’ unnecessarily in front of something-

“Good, that’s enough.” how rude

yeah that’s all for that song. I hope you guys weren’t actually expecting me to find much humour in that one

~ watch what happens reprise scene ~

“You are a love.” ??

Guys where I live if you say “tant mieux pour vous.” it means “Too bad for you” and that’s literally what Jack just told Davey-

“Stop. I understand. It’s useless.” eh close enough

“Good blood, where do you have to go to avoid you guys?”

“It’s impossible. We are inevitable.” since when did Davey actually become Thanos?

“And this here girl, Sally, she’s great.” :(

“We say that you wrote a good article.” “You seem horrible.” they’re much more salty in this version-

“Yes, it’s true. And, he is dead.” uhh guess who’s not going to Santa Fe-

“We can forget that and go back to work?” the person who wrote this had a real passion for butchering Les’ lines lol

“Be positive. No one is dead.” mmmmmmmmmmm-

“Is that what you’re hoping for??” MMMMMMMMMMMMMM-

“There’s no question of cents, Jack!” yk what? sure. i don’t even care at this point-

“We’ll do what?” he sounds like he doesn’t even want to win.

“We’re already winning.” “Agreed.” ABORT ABORT THIS ISN’T WHAT YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO S A Y JACK-

“And ‘voila’ why I think that Joe is an idiot. It’s a rattlesnake.” “... Yes.” you heard it right here, guys. if it’s a rattlesnek, it’s an idiot

“And you know why a snake whistles?” WHAT

“He is scared.”

“Go see, the poor of the head that’s spinning.” This is shredding whatever bits of sanity I had left-

“Why send the brutes?” idk why Davey

“You have maybe reason!” “Thank you!”

“And I have an appointment!”

no but when you say you have a ‘rendez-vous’ here where I live, it means you have like a doctors appointment or something lol

~ the bottom line reprise scene ~

“After his release, I surprised him myself!”

“If that’s the case, we’re going to bring him in... in softness.” nice of them

“... or the little thief?” I’m really starting to think that they lack like 99% of words in the French language-

“I was fighting in a war.” “And that turned out well for you?” get wrecked joe

“Rally as much as you want, no journal in town will talk about it.” guys I don’t have enough serotonin for this-

“Everyone here knows you’re horrible!” they made Jack sound like a little kid in the translation, and honestly I’m not even disappointed lol

“We’re missing time, little.” I don’t even know what to say-

“Your abject surrender was always the bottom of the problem.” sure why not

“Gentlemen, escort our guest to the cave-” well isn’t he nice?

“Be happy you’re alive, little. That’s the essential.”

“Yeah, so go!” ?? how is that even remotely close to “Yeah, so behave!” ??????

“I exercised my favourite American punch!” uhhhh good for you?

“You can sleep here, on this old press! It’s very firm.” help I’ve fallen and I can’t get up-

~ brooklyn’s here scene ~

“The sellers need our help! The sellers need our help! Tell them that Brooklyn’s arriving! Tell them that Brooklyn’s arriving!”

“We’re from Brooklyn, we’re the sellers from Brooklyn!” UHHHHH EXCUSE ME???

“We just learned that our friends are going wrong!” please you heard they were ‘going wrong’ like five days ago-

“You know we’re there for you, since always.” oH rEaLlY???

“Brooklyn is there!”

“Strikes aren’t nice, but they’re passionate!” well I’m glad you think so

“Let’s shout it, Brooklyn is there!”

“Aaaaand sooooooo!!” “Sooooooooo!!” “Soooooooooo!!!” “We will send you half road, just to Queens!”

“The pigeons are going to get soaked!” aaaaaand we’re back to the pigeons-

“What sad way to finish your career!” they sound so sarcastic I can’t-

“They’re not serious, but if they think we’re laughing…” i feel low-key threatened-

“Let’s shout it!” well if you try hard enough, you can make it sound like “loud and clear!”?

“Manhattan is theeere, Flushing is theeere, “Richmond is theeere, Woodside is theeere, and the Bronx too!!”

“Sorry, little. No news of him.” I just… why does it translate to “little”?

“You are alone, we could say.” “No.” “Yes.”

Medda really isn’t taking no for an answer-

“The sellers of journals of New York!” I’m crying why is it such a mouthful-

“You want to be treated like an adult? Act like an adult!”

~ something to believe in scene ~

“It’s Specs!” wow kath throw specs under the bus like that-

“And if I was a boy you’d be looking at me with a butter black eye!” I’ve officially given up on the French language I’m sorry-

“You win a fight when the other guy bites the dust.” and another one gone and another one gone-

“If there’s a way I could grab hold of something,” has literally been shortened to ‘if I could.’ IF I COULD-

“If I could stop time.” I’m so mad

“Really?” “Really.” ahhHHHHHHHHHHH

“But it’s going. It’s going.”

“... who didn’t even know she gave me a hope.” WHAT EVEN IS THE POINT IF THE TITLE ANYMORE??

“But it’s going. It’s going.” The thrilling sequel

“No. I’m scared of you.” “No!” yeesh-

“I believe in something.” good for you

~ once and for all scene -

“He is with us.” but like… how much?? only 99 percent????

“We could hold a hoedown here.” I feel like the person translating this just gave up by the end of the show-

“Happy to have found you again.” what did you like lose him or something

“The close.” ok yes that’s funny, but it gets even funnier when you realize it could also be translated to “the farm.”

“A little grease, and she’ll be like new.”

“This is for the guys who kill themselves at the factories.” w h a t

‘THE BANNER OF SELLERS OF JOURNALS’ I’m still not over this

~ everything that comes after that ~

“Anyone who doesn’t act in their own self interest is an idiot!” ey watch it-

also what the heck is ‘quiconque’ I swear I’ve never seen that word in my life

“We will find a way, but let’s seize the moment.” first it was “the chance” and now it’s “the moment” google translate are u okay-

They really went and changed ‘bully’ to ‘monster’ didn’t they

“You can make it.” he really makes it sound like Jack is about to die or something-

“It’s disgusting!” you’re disgusting sir

“And the world will know, we’ve been taking notes.”

“It’s a joke!” nope lol

“Goodbye, fool!” I’M LAUGHING WAY TOO HARD ABOUT THIS-

“Well you already work for my father.” “Yes.”

“Super, Jack Kelly!” I CAN’T-

“So, Jack, you’re staying?” yeah sure close enough-

“Sellers of journals on a mission!”

Das it ‘my friends’ lol. Hope you enjoyed.

#newsies #guys this took forever-#okay don’t get me wrong I love the French language but it’s just so much fun to make fun of #I go to a French school where you’re not allowed to speak English unless it’s English class so maybe I’m just bitter #anyway #tw: caps #justiceforspecs

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thedelanceybruddas · 5 years

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Can you teach me how to rp Morris, i’m really bad at it and it’s a problem

ok so this is super late BUT youre giving me a good excuse to put together my Morris Personality HC™ so thank u anon. i apologize that this is focused less on roleplaying him and more on writing him but. i think that’s close enough.

ok so if we’re looking at the script of the musical we know that Morris is a HUGE instigator. his lines, in order, are: “you want some of that too, ya lousy crip?” - “hey Oscar, looks like it was bum information we got about a strike happening here today. not that i’m complaining; i know my skull bustin’ arm could use a day of rest” - “hey, ya working or trespassing? what’s your pleasure?” - “shut it, ya stupid crip!” - “and now, we’ve been given discretion to handle you as we see fit. yeah, so behave.” - “you can sleep right here, on this old printing press. *SMACK SMACK* now that there is firm.”

a lot of his character is displayed through his physicality; when Race says his whole “it would be a pleasure to tell Weasel myself” line, the camera cuts to Morris and Oscar, and Morris does a sort of pointy ‘i’m watching you’ gesture; a lot of Morris’ threats are just physical gestures not included in the script. the way the actor plays him makes him seem a little less like a goon and more like a jerk older brother; constantly taunting and provoking the newsies, but not really rising to action unless he gets a reaction. every line in the script might have a threatening gesture accompanying it, but it’s like he’s daring the newsies to do anything and doesn’t really have a plan if they do take him up on it. when jack knocks the Delanceys down with Crutchie’s crutch, Oscar is immediately for retribution (“just wait till I get my hands on you!”) but Morris doesn’t respond at all; he follows his brother in chasing Jack, of course, but for someone who keeps talking big game he has no response for when the newsies actually fight back. this rule changes for Crutchie; out of the two Delanceys, Morris verbally and physically attacks Crutchie whenever he gets the opportunity. you can have your own interpretation as to why, but it isn’t excusable.

when he and Oscar are (presumably) hired by Pulitzer to intimidate Jack, Morris takes more of a hands-on approach; when they’re in the distribution yard, Oscar is the one that handles talking to the Newsies the most with little back-and-forth quips and jeers and such, while Morris only talks to them before work starts, either at the gates or just as they’re coming through them, or when his job is to beat on them. he seems to care about seeming responsible/mature when we see him working, whether for Wiesel or Pulitzer, but especially the latter, since that’s when he takes control of the situation the most; presenting the printing press to Jack, telling him to behave — Oscar only has one line in that scene, and that’s to add on to what Morris was saying with a threat (“but just in case, I’ve been polishing my favourite brass knuckles”). when compared to when he’s working for Pulitzer, it’s seems like he’s letting Oscar be the boss of the distribution yard by deliberately keeping out of things; now, I see Morris as the older brother (I have a post saying why) so I interpret this as Morris letting his baby brother do the cool stuff like handing out the papes and talking to the newsies while he handles the dirty work. whatever interpretation you choose, the point is that Morris very rarely speaks to the newsies when he starts working (i.e. after the gate has been unlocked.)

you may notice that literally every single line in the musical is him either instigating a confrontation or him taunting the newsies. if we look at the 1992 script (minus that one scene because dear god please do not use that scene for roleplay inspiration) its a lot more detailed in stage direction + it has a few different lines so we can learn a bit more about him!

the first direction in the script for Morris is for him to push past Jack with ‘deliberate aggression’. when Oscar pushes Snipeshooter to the back of the line, 'Oscar and Morris glare at the crowd, daring anyone to do anything about it.’ – basically that whole first scene with them is showing that they’re just stupid tough goons. in the scene where the Delanceys are chasing jack, at one point, when Morris has him, the script says 'Morris lifts him high into the air to smash him onto the cobblestones.’ However, this doesn’t happen in the actual scene; the only time in Carrying the Banner that’s remotely similar to this is when the Delancey’s are fighting Jack inside the circle of newsies, where Morris pushes Jack down and tackles him, showing him as the heavy-hitter of the duo, further enforcing that he’s the brother who gets his hands dirty.

later, when Jack gets the extra paper for Davey from Wiesel, Wiesel is PISSED and the script says that he backhands Morris (who isn’t even the one who gave Davey the extra paper). This doesn’t make it into the film either (probably because it’s kind of dark, GEE DISNEY DO YOU KNOW WHAT ELSE IS DARK) but it could point to Weasel being abusive towards the brothers.

morris, compared to oscar, seems super sadistic, especially when he grins at Crutchie before he and Oscar drag him off to the cops - and later in the script Crutchie fills us in that Oscar and Morris 'worked him over’ - either before or after turning him in.

we don’t see anything special specific to Morris again until a while later, after Jack becomes a scab; script says 'The Delanceys pass by; Morris grinning at him, bouncing a club in his hand.’

however, this isn’t accurate to the movie, as Morris has a blank, almost annoyed expression. this is significant due to Oscar’s next line: “come with us, cowboy. we’re gonna fix your pal Davey today — fix 'im so’s he can’t walk no more.” Morris tells him to shut up, which, in the script seems like it’s supposed to be said in a way akin to ‘shut up dude, we’re not supposed to tell him that’ but the way the actor delivers it seems more like ‘too far, shut up.’ watching the scene, you can see how Morris slowly shakes his head as Oscar speaks, and the ‘shut up’ is delivered as he pulls Oscar away from Jack. this line is the one that I’ve noticed most fans using to interpret Morris as more sympathetic. if you do want to play Morris semi-sympathetically or try to redeem him, this line is what you want to look at.

the next Delancey scene is weirdly violent and disgusting for Disney and i know it’s a cop-out but i tend to ignore it so i will not cover it here.

one last note is that after jack beats up the Delanceys for The Previous Scene Morris yells “Ya better run, cowboy – we’re tellin’ Weas! You’ll be back in the Refuge by supper time!” haha tattletale

some extra stuff that may or may not be canon: morris’ trading card reads ‘Born in SoHo and worked on the family farm. Abandoned by his parents, believes in survival of the fittest and sticks like glue to his brother, Oscar. They work with their Uncle Wiesel, keeping order at the distribution window of “The World”.’ it’s pretty likely that Mike Faist wrote this, but it’s nice to use as a kind of baseline for Morris’ characterization. Mike also says in the Meet the Newsies video for Morris that “deep down… y’know, really deep down, he’s actually like a really nice guy.”

across both versions of Newsies, we have these consistencies: Morris and Oscar work for their uncle Wiesel (they call him Uncle Weas in the movie), they fight with the Newsies at least twice, and they fight the most with Jack.

we also have the discrepancies: first, the ableism toward Crutchie. in the musical, both of the Delanceys (but mostly Morris) single him out from the other newsies specifically to bully and harass him for being disabled. Morris calls him stupid, assaults him, and calls him a slur twice. it’s obvious that he does this because he’s disabled. for example, Morris snatches his crutch away after Racetrack and Oscar start fighting (“ain’t your father one of the strikers? “guess he didn’t take care of me”) yet does literally nothing to Racetrack who’s the one that started it in the first place, not to mention that Crutchie really didn’t do anything besides stand nearest to Morris. in contrast, the 1992 version has a scene that basically mirrors this scene, except instead of Morris making Crutchie fall over by taking his crutch, Oscar shoves one of the very smallest newsies, Snipeshooter, towards the back of the line of newsies (“in the back you lousy little shrimp.”) Morris is of course still abrasive in the 1992 version, but the only time he SPECIFICALLY picks on Crutchie is when he’s literally the only one left in the distribution yard after the chaos, and Oscar and Morris are basically working in tandem at this point. Oscar kicks away Crutchie’s crutch, then they both drag him away by his shoulders — Morris does kind of menace Crutchie with his baton, but he doesn’t hit him. Throughout the entire movie (and the bar is touching the ground), at no point do Morris or Oscar call Crutchie a slur.

the ableist slurs and behaviours by Morris in the stage musical were probably included because there are basically no other opportunities to show the Delancey’s villainy, since Sarah isn’t a character and Jack never works for Wiesel — in regards to Morris’ personality and writing him, it’s probably meant to showcase either a superiority complex, his sadism (as evident in the 1992 film), or the ‘survival of the fittest’ mentality referenced in his trading card bio.

basically, when writing Morris I’d pick and choose from every one of his showcased aspects between both iterations, and I wouldn’t fall into the trap of trying to make him so sympathetic that he’s OOC. he’s mean, confrontational, vindictive, petty, violent; he looks out for his brother, tries to be responsible, and doesn’t seem to hold a grudge (especially against Jack). of course, since he’s supposed to be a one-dimensional Disney villain, you have to add some depth by yourself. for example, I headcanon that he’s older than Oscar to add a kind of asshole older brother dynamic. honestly, you don’t have to consider every single bad thing he’s ever done in canon when writing him; imo writing Morris is harder than writing Oscar because, since Morris is more stoic and physical than Oscar, it’s much harder to try and imagine his motivations and thoughts, much less build a personality that’s redeemable. Just imagine canon Morris as the skeleton and then build on top of it; don’t take away what he is OR how he’s hurt other characters, but build on top of it. just be prepared to think up a metric fuckton of headcanons.

#c slur //#morris delancey #newsies #Anonymous

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sun-kissed-star · 6 years

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ANGST-OFF

The lovely @suddenly-im-respecsable and I both wrote a fic with two angst prompts we picked out for each other. They’re both Ralbert, because we’re both suckers for it.

Before you read these, if you’re a judge, please read this!

Our judges are: @galaxy-trees13 @bencookisagod @c0ronas @brooklyn-noozies @thecaptainsgingersnap @aw-jus-let-em-try

If you’re a judge, please pick either story A or story B. Send an ask to my inbox (it can’t be anonymous, please go public!) saying which one you vote for. I promise you won’t hurt our feelings! We want to know who wins. Any anonymous ask saying which you vote for won’t be posted, sorry, babes. This is just for the judges to vote on. Feedback, comments, or reblogs are always, always, always appreciated, though!

STORY A

trigger warning: explicit death and dying, explicit physical injury, grieving

Race was walking back from the Sheepshead when he heard shouts coming from a nearby alley. Hesitantly, he approached the opening and peeked in.

Race’s stomach dropped out from him. Albert was shoved against the wall of the alley, his lip and nose bleeding, trying desperately to hold his own against Oscar and Morris, who were approaching him menacingly. Morris had his knife out.

Race threw down his paper bag running toward them. “HEY! LEAVE HIM ALONE!”

Oscar and Morris turned around at the sound of Race’s voice, mischievous smiles playing on their faces. “Is this your little boyfriend, Dasilva? Has he come to save you?” Oscar teased.

Albert ignored him. “Race! What are you doing? Get out of here!”

Race shook his head, biting back tears as he approached the Delanceys. “Not without you!”

Morris gave him a sickeningly sweet smile. “Good luck with that,” he snarled, slashing his knife blindly behind him into Albert’s stomach before grabbing his brother and running out of the alley.

Albert’s eyes flew open wide with shock and for one painful moment he made direct eye contact with Race, blood dripping from his shirt onto the dirty street before he collapsed.

“Albie, oh my god, Albie,” Race mumbled as he ran toward his fallen boyfriend on shaky legs. Albert was slumped against the wall, practically choking on his breath, eyelids fluttering dangerously, one hand partially obscuring the gaping wound in his stomach.

“Hey, hey, baby,” Race rambled, tears dripping down his cheeks. Albert wasn't going to make it. There was too much blood. He was breathing all wrong. They were too far from the house. But he had to try, he had to at least try. “Look at me, look at me, right at me. It’s gonna be okay, everything is going to be okay. I’m gonna get you back to the lodge, Mush is gonna fix you up. Just stay with me, baby, please.” He slid his arms around Albert, trying to lift him.

“No, no, ‘ace,” Albert slurred, wiggling out of Race’s grip. “‘S no use.”

“No, baby, it’s gonna be okay, I promise, just let me get you -”

“‘S not,” Albert said gently, opening his eyes all the way to look up at Race’s tear stricken face. “‘S okay, don’ cry, I ‘ad a good life, I go’ t’ be wit’ you.”

Race pulled Albert’s head into his lap, one hand combing gently through his hair and the other firmly grasping Albert’s hand. “I know, I just wish we had more time.”

Albert gave him a pained smile. “We ‘ad all th’ ‘ime we needed.”

Race sniffled as a fresh round of tears filled his eyes. Even in the shadow of death, Albert still managed to be poetic. “I don't know what I’m going to do without you, Albie,” Race sobbed, leaning his head down on Albert’s shoulder. “You’re my everything. Who’s gonna steal my cigars in the morning? Who’s gonna make jokes with me at the gate? Who am I gonna cuddle with after a long day?” Race’s voice cracked as he fisted his hands in Albert’s hair.

“Shhhhh,” Albert whispered, draping one of his arms around Race’s back, he lacked the energy to provide any other comfort. “You’re gonna be fine, ‘ace. Jus’ keep goin’. Don’ cry when ‘m gone. Don’ let me stop you from livin’. ‘ou ‘till b’long ‘ere. Don’ try t’ follow me.”

Race nodded into Albert’s shoulder. What had he done to deserve him? And how was it that he was about to lose him?

Albert shifted, groaning in pain, and Race quickly sat up, murmuring reassurances. Albert reached up and, with some difficulty, removed his hat, letting his red hair spill into Race’s lap. Then he motioned for Race to lean down, and removed Race’s hat, putting his own in its place. “‘ere,” he mumbled, staring up at Race with tears in his eyes, “somethin’ t’ remember me by.”

Race quickly leaned down pressing a kiss to Albert’s lips, which he returned with desperation, suddenly very aware that this would be their last kiss. Fresh tears sprung into Race’s eyes at the thought. “As if I could ever forget you.”

Albert smiled, but it turned into a painful cough, wracking his weak body with sharp movements, blood splattering onto his lips.

“Shhhhh, shhh its okay, its okay,” Race soothed, rubbing Albert’s shoulder and squeezing his hand gently. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Te- tell th’ boys I love ‘em,” Albert rasped, his breathing now more irregular, “an’ not t’ miss me too much. An’ all my stuff, me shirts an’ stuff in m’ bunk, I want ya t’ ‘ave ‘em, ‘ace.”

“No, no, I couldn't.” Race continued to rub circles into Albert’s shoulder.

“Please, ‘ace?” Albert asked and Race couldn't say no to the desperation in his eyes. He nodded his head in confirmation.

Albert’s body was seized by another coughing fit, this one much more violent and intense. His eyes blinked closed several times, making Race’s heart clench. “C’mon, baby, look at me, one last time.”

At the sound of Race’s pleading voice, Albert’s eyes blinked open halfway and he gently squeezed Race’s hand. “I love ya, ‘tonio, don’ firget ‘t,” he mumbled in his barely there voice.

Race leaned down close to Albert, thumbing his fingers through his hair soothingly. “I love you too, Albie. So, so much.”

Albert gave Race one last smile before his eyes fluttered shut and the grip on Race’s hand released.

Race jolted awake with a start, wiping away his tears and forcing himself to take a few deep breaths before dragging himself out of bed and towards the window. Almost as an afterthought, he grabbed Albert’s hat from the end of his bed.

Race climbed up the ladder to the roof to where he knew Jack was sleeping. Crutchie had opted to sleep inside tonight.

Jack was leaning against the rail, looking out over the city. Race wordlessly wandered over and joined him, his hands toying with the hat in his hands.

After a few minutes, Jack spoke up. “You had the nightmare again?”

“Yeah,” Race whispered. “I don't understand, Jackie, it’s been almost a year, why does it still happen? Why do I have to relive it every night?”

“I don't know, Racer,” Jack sighed, leaning over to place his hand on Race’s.

“It just makes it worse,” Race continued. “I know he’s gone. I know he’s not coming back. And then, every night I see the whole thing happen again. And then I wake up, and expect it to be a dream, that he’ll be there any second to reassure me that everything’s going to be okay, that he’s okay, but he’s not, Jack. He’s gone. He’s never coming back.” His voice cracked on the last word and he bowed his head in defeat, the cool New York air biting at his tear stained cheeks.

“Truth hurts, doesn’t it?” Jack sighed, putting an arm around Race’s shoulders, holding him gently. Race tensed at first, he didn't like people touching him that much anymore, but then he relaxed into Jack’s embrace.

“I didn't try hard enough to save him,” Race sighed. “I could have brought him back here, we could have at least tried.”

“No, Race,” Jack said gently. “You did what he wanted. You made him comfortable. He just wanted to be with you one last time, and you gave him that.”

“I guess,” Race sighed. “Everything just feels so pointless without him here anymore.”

“He wanted you to keep living, right? That's what you told me?” Jack asked softly.

Race closed his eyes, reciting the words he had told him from memory. “You’re going to be fine, Race. Just keep going. Don’t cry when I’m gone. Don’t let me stop you from living. You still belong here. Don't try to follow me.”

“See,” Jack soothed, “He wants you here. You've done a great job, Race. I don't think I could have been as strong as you've been this past year.”

“It’s so hard though,” Race whispered. “I just want one more day with him. Is that too much to ask?”

Jack rubbed Race’s arms comfortingly. “Sometimes, the universe is a cruel place. You’ll see him again one day. I promise.”

“One day” turned out to be a lot closer than Race had expected. About a month later, he was thrown in the Refuge for stealing an apple from a street vendor. It wasn't his fault, he had been hungry and selling had been tough the last year without his partner in crime.

Snyder had locked Race in one of the basement rooms and beat him for mouthing off to a guard. Not that he really cared. He hadn’t cared about what happened to him in almost a year. He didn't have a boyfriend to come home to anymore, so what did it matter. He did stupid stuff, mouthed off to people, got in fights, and this time it had cost him.

Race groaned in pain, his ribs screaming from being kicked down the stairs, his back on fire from the lashes he’d received, and his leg was beginning to go numb, which he didn't think was a good sign. Race tried to keep his eyes open, but the darkness called out to him and it sounded so appealing that he allowed himself to slip away.

When Race awoke he was laying on something - no wait, someone. There was a hand comfortingly stroking his hair and Race leaned into it, sighing in satisfaction. The pain was still there, but it was much duller than before, barely an ache and disappearing by the second.

“Dammit, Tonio,” a voice said from above him. “Everything was just starting to get better, and then you do this?”

Race sucked in a sharp breath. He’d know that annoyed voice anywhere. But, it couldn't be…

“Albie?” Race spoke the name of his boyfriend for the first time in a year, it felt foreign on his lips and his voice cracked, almost as if he had forgotten what it was like to be someone’s everything.

“Yes, Race, I’m here,” Albert said soothingly.

Race hesitantly opened his eyes, crying tears of happiness when he saw Albert’s face above him. He looked just as Race remembered, messy reddish hair, warm brown eyes, lightly freckled skin, glorious smile. He was wearing the same clothes as the last time Race had seen him, less the hat, which was firmly jammed on Race’s head. He even smelled the same, like freshly printed papers, and new york city, and lingering cigar smoke.

“I- but- you’re, you’re dead,” Race stuttered. “Does that mean I’m dead too?”

“Not quite yet,” Albert said, running his hand gently over Race’s face. “You’re getting there, though.”

Race lifted himself up slightly, looking around. “Where are we? This isn’t the Refuge.”

Albert pushed him gently back down so his head was resting in his lap once again. “Shhh, stay down, okay? You’re hurt real bad, don't want it to get worse.” He paused. “We’re on the roof of the lodging house. I usually hang around you guys, it’s where I’m the strongest.”

“What do you mean?” Race asked, picking up Albert’s hand and holding it tightly. The pain in his back was beginning to return and he needed something to hold onto.

Albert gave him a soft smile. “I’m still around Race. I follow you when you go out selling every day, I’m standing right next to you when you're betting at the Sheepshead, I sleep next to you in the lodge every night. I’m always there when you wake up from that nightmare. And I wish I could comfort you, I really do,” he paused, sniffling, “It’s so hard to see you in pain, because of me.”

“You didn't do anything wrong, Al,” Race whispered. “Don't beat yourself up over this.”

Albert smiled slightly. “I told you not to cry over me when I was gone. And you still did.”

Race felt tears coming on. “It was hard not to, you were my everything. Heck, you still are my everything.”

“I know, I know,” Albert sighed. “But you were doing so good, Racey. So, so good. And then this happened. I told you to keep living, right?”

Race squeezed Albert’s hand tightly, repeating the words from that fateful day. “You’re going to be fine, Race. Just keep going. Don’t cry when I’m gone. Don’t let me stop you from living. You still belong here. Don't try to follow me.”

“And look, you tried to follow me,” Albert paused. “You never used to be that careless Race, what were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t.” Race winced, more pain shooting through his back and across his ribs.

Albert noticed immediately. “Baby? What is it? Talk to me, Tonio.” He stared at Race with a look of concern.

“Hurts,” Race said through gritted teeth.

Albert looked at him sadly before getting a far-off expression on his face. “Jack’s pulling you out from the Refuge,” he whispered.

“What?” Race’s face contorted in pain as he shifted in Albert’s lap.

“In the real world,” Albert looked down at Race, “Jack just rescued you from the Refuge. He’s bringing you back to the house right now. If- if you're feeling pain, that means that you're going to make it.”

“What does that mean?” Race asked shakily, needing to hear it from Albert.

“You can’t stay here with me,” Albert whispered, his eyes filling with tears. “You have to back.”

Race felt his own tears spilling over. “But I wanna stay here with you,” he protested. “I just got you back, I can’t lose you again.”

“Shhhhhh,” Albert soothed, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to Race’s lips. Race kissed him back desperately, trying to memorize the feeling of his lips, the way he tasted, everything. “You're getting a second chance, Antonio,” Albert whispered. “Aren’t you happy?”

“No,” Race wheezed, the pain was really setting in now. “I want to be with you. I can’t be without you, Albie. It nearly killed me when you died. I had to carry you back to the house, I had to explain to the boys what happened. I had to go to bed that night, knowing that you wouldn’t be there when I woke up. I had to keep living without my second half. I can’t go through that again, Albie. Let me stay with you, please,” he begged, clutching Albert’s hand as if he might disappear any second, which judging from his flickering, fading image was a high possibility.

“Tonio, listen to me, baby,” Albert said softly, tears clogging his voice. “You belong on Earth, living. You mean so much to all those boys down there, they’re all so worried about you. I can see it right now, Jack just put you on your bunk, Mush is pulling off your shirt, starting to clean your back. He’s crying. Romeo is hovering by the corner, and Specs is holding him back from jumping on you. Behind him is JoJo and Blink and Henry and Tommy Boy and everyone else. They’re all trying to hold it together. Elmer just ran out to go get Davey. They care about you, baby, they really do. They’ve already lost me, I don't want them to lose you too.”

“But I don't want to lose you,” Race sobbed. “Can’t I just have five more minutes? Is that too much to ask?”

Albert looked at him sadly, shaking his head. “No, Tonio, you have to go back. Don't try to follow me again. You're going to have a nice, long life. Don't rush it just to get back to me.”

Race’s vision blurred from his tears and the blinding pain that was becoming more intense every second. “Will I ever see you again?”

Albert nodded. “One day, I promise, Antonio, I’m not going anywhere.”

Race stared up at Albert’s fading image. “I don't want you to go,” he whispered in a pained, broken voice.

“Shhhhhh, just concentrate on living for me, okay baby?” Albert soothed, rubbing his hand through Races hair.

Race nodded weakly, his eyes began to flutter and he forced them to stay open.

“Tell the boys hello for me,” Albert whispered. “I love you, Antonio, don’t forget it.”

Race almost laughed at the irony as he stared up at the love of his life one final time. “I love you too, Albie,” he managed to choke out. “So, so much.” Then his eyes slipped closed.

The next thing Race knew, he was laying on a soft bed, muted voices surrounding him. He let out a pained groan. Immediately, the voices subsided.

“Race?”

Race cracked open his eye to see Jack kneeling next to his bed, Mush, Romeo, Specs, Blink, JoJo, Henry, Elmer, Crutchie, Tommy Boy and Davey all standing behind him, holding their breath.

Tears were flooding Race’s eyes before he could even stop them and he shoved his head into his pillow, reaching one hand up blindly to feel for Albert’s cap which was still on his head.

“Whoa, hey, Race, its okay, you're okay, we’re at the lodge, everything's gonna be fine,” Jack soothed.

“I saw him, Jack,” Race sobbed. “I saw Albert. He was okay. He talked to me. He -” Race gasped. “He sent me back here, told me to keep living.”

“It’s okay, Race, it’s okay,” Jack rubbed his hand through Race’s hair.

Race let out another sob. Albert was wrong. He couldn't keep living without him. He wanted to be where Albert was. But he’d lost his chance. Now all he could do was wait and hope the wait wouldn’t be too long.

STORY B

trigger warning: injury, child abuse, emotional abuse, sort of kidnapping

The basement was cold. There was a dead rat in the corner and the ceiling was dripping, the sound echoing off the walls and ringing back in Albert’s ears. His growling stomach, the pounding in his head, and the aching bruises were all he had to show for two weeks alone in the Refuge.

He sighed, drawing his good leg up to his chest. Snyder hadn’t even bothered to handcuff him. It wasn’t like he had the energy to move anyway. He’d fought until one of the guards had slammed a chair over his leg. From the sickening way it was twisted and the fire shooting up and down, he couldn’t guarantee it wasn’t broken.

Which was just fantastic.

He was picking at the dried blood under his nails when the door opened. A sliver of light at the top of the stairs was like a spotlight in the dark room. Two tall, broad shadows were there when Albert blinked and squinted. They were holding a third person between them.

“How are we feeling today, DaSilva?” The cold, demeaning voice involuntarily sent a shiver up his spine. “Still in the mood to talk back and disobey orders? Or are we ready to behave?”

Snyder came down the stairs, hands clasped behind his back and eyes greedy in the light. Albert took a deep breath.

“Fuck you.”

“Oh, so it’s going to be one of those days, is it?” Snyder chuckled, shaking his head as if trying to get through to a stubborn child. “Maybe this will change your mind.”

The guard behind him threw the third person down the rest of the stairs, and Albert winced as they hit the ground. There was a bag over their head, their shirt was ripped and threadbare, and their pants were slipping over their hips.

And then Snyder pulled the bag off.

Albert felt his entire body go cold. His mind went numb. His thoughts were on autopilot, a stream of no, no, no, no, no, no -

Race’s hair was matted with blood. A gag was keeping him quiet. He was glaring up at Snyder until the guard slapped him on the back of the head and his eyes landed on Albert. Then his twisted leg, then the bruises painting his face and bare arms. His hard demeanor collapsed. So did Albert’s heart.

“Recognize this face by any chance, red?” Snyder cooed, leaning down to grab Race’s chin.

Albert stayed silent.

“At a loss for words? Isn’t it just a miracle?”

Albert flinched as Snyder ripped the gag out of Race’s mouth with more force than necessary.

“Should we leave you and your little boy toy alone for a moment?”

Albert tore his eyes away from Race’s pale face to Snyder’s sneer. It hit him like another fist in the face when the spark in Snyder’s eyes gave away what he really wanted Albert to say.

He wanted him to crack.

He wanted Albert to beg and scream, he wanted Race to lose hope and go mute. He wanted the kids under his watch to lose whatever childhood they had left. He wanted them to leave the Refuge feeling like they lost their soul going in.

Race had been in the Refuge before. Albert had seen him come out as a new person. A person with dark circles under his eyes and tense shoulders and haunted looks.

He couldn’t let that happen again.

He swallowed back the bile rising in his throat, struggling to keep a straight face, and looked Snyder dead in the eye.

“You’re using him as leverage? That’s the best you could do?”

Race looked confused. “Al, it’s okay. I’m okay.” His voice was raspy and hoarse. Albert looked at him, feeling his heart pound against his ribs. Tears were pushing, but he kept them in.

It’s for the best, don’t you dare cry, don’t you dare mess this up, you’ve gotten Race in the Refuge as it is. The last thing you need is to get him hurt.

“You think I actually care if you’re okay?” he scoffed. “God, you really haven’t figured it out?”

Race shook his head weakly, shoulders rigid like an invisible string was keeping him up. “A-Al, you don’t have to - I’ll be fine, please just sto-”

“Don’t have to what? As long as we’re here, you might as well know. You were just an experiment. I was bored and you were there. I never wanted whatever you think we have.”

Tears were streaming down Race’s cheeks. His eyes were like ice. “You-you’re not -”

Albert rolled his eyes. “You think anything you say is gonna make me give a damn?”

Race looked down. He was out of words. Albert didn’t think he could keep going, and he risked a look back up.

Snyder’s scowl was halfway between pleasant and disappointed. He spat at Albert’s shoes, kicking at his bad leg. “Take the boy back upstairs,” he snapped. “He’s useless.”

The guard heaved Race up under the arms, twisting them behind him, and Albert bit his lip until he tasted copper when Race cried out.

“And you,” Snyder said, grabbing Albert’s hair to force his head up. “I’ll break you, boy. They always break.”

He slammed Albert’s head against the wall, spun around, and stomped upstairs with the guard in tow.

“Albie?” Dammit. God dammit. Guilt was already eating away at his heart, and he didn’t think he could bear to hear Race’s voice break like that.

Race was staring at him as the guard pinned him to his chest and dragged him up the stairs. He wasn’t struggling, he wasn’t shouting. He was limp, like there was nothing left in the world that could bring the bright smile back to his face. “Please, this is - is this real? I don’t -”

No. No, no. I love you so, so much. I’m keeping you safe, I’m trying to protect you, you’re only gonna get hurt if you stay with me, I’m not worth it, letting you go was the hardest thing I ever had to do, please come back, I love you, I love you.

All he could do was will Race to meet his eyes. He was mouthing the words over and over again, ‘I love you, I love you so much’, but nothing was coming out.

It was too late.

They had both given up hope.

#albert dasilva #racetrack higgins #ralbert #angst #angst-off #these took us all day to write #feedback is always appreciated #thanks babes!!#happy reading

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aggressivetapdancing · 7 years

Text

Is this what love feels like? - Race x Reader

Race X Queen of Brooklyn Badass! Reader

Requested by: Anon

“Race x Queen of Brooklyn Badass!Reader? I would love you forever if you wrote this for me! (Not that I don’t already love you)”

A/N: Thank you anon!! Here’s what you asked for :)) It’s my first time writing an imagine so here we gooo + Sorry if she’s not as badass as you imagined!

Also: I didn’t really edit this thoroughly so if there’s mistakes and such, ignore them haha

___

Brooklyn. Friendliest place on earth, with the most friendly people. – Well, at least that’s what they say.

But to the Newsies of New York? They’d disagree.

Why? Because of the notorious Y/N L/N. That was why.

Secretive. Mysterious. Tough. And never spotted. She was known for being the most roughest and toughest newsie of New York. Only a few had seen her face and that made her sound even more intriguing that she was before. Always on the run from the fuzz, like a modern day Robin Hood. She only did what she had to do, and took what she had to take. The stealing and law-breaking was never for herself. It was for the children back at the refuge.

As a young girl, Y/N had spent most of her childhood at that crummy prison, struggling to feed herself everyday even until now. When she finally reached 15, she broke out of the miserable place to finally be free; visiting every so often to find food for the rest of the helpless children. Spot Conlon, King of Brooklyn at the time, had found her stealing food from a cafe, and he took her under his wing. They were inseparable since. He taught he everything she needed to know about New York: Street Smarts, how to soak someone, how to sell papes, and just regular everyday tips that would help her in life.

And how did you know all this?

Because you are her.

Y/N L/N, Queen of Brooklyn, was you.

And here you were, two years later. The supposed Queen of Brooklyn herself, running away from nothing. You had gotten sick of the same old city and wanted to see something new. Maybe a different city? Maybe a small town. All you knew is that you wanted to get out of Brooklyn for one damn day. And that’s what you decided to do. So tonight you were set. Tonight you were going to explore the unexplored. It sounded stupid, but hey. A girl’s gotta dream right?

___

It was dark. Not pitch black, but dark enough that you could see the shadows lurking behind you. Dark enough to get soaked without even knowing what hit you. The only light in sight was the multiple street lamps that produced the littlest amount of brightness, meaning you couldn’t see a thing. It was cold, and windy and you just wanted to rest.

“Stupid plan. I should’ve stayed in Brooklyn. There��s nothing here anyway.” You muttered to yourself, hugging the small vest you wore closer to your chest. No inn, or anywhere to sleep was in sight and you could swear no one would be out in the streets at this hour. Little did you know, there were two men creeping up behind you. Once you did notice though, you were pushed into an alley.

“Look at what we have here.” A voice sneered. “It’s one of them newsies. And it’s a goirl!”

You were on the ground and all you could see were two stocky, well built, men looking over you.

The Delancey brothers. You’ve heard a lot about them.

“Leave me alone.” You ordered, getting up to your feet. The men just grimaced and sent each other a look. One of them grabbed ahold of your hand and pulled it so that it would behind you head and out of reach. Wincing, you tried to punch him with your free hand, but the man had pinned that down too.

“I usually don’t beat up pretty women like you, but you look like street scum. And- you’re one of them filthy newsies.” The other man taunted.

“You’re going to regret this boys.” You warned them, giving each of them a glare as they laughed at you.

“Ohohoh- I’m soooo scared.” They laughed. “Are you gonna hurt me? Hm? You’re gonna hurt me?”

You brought up your head to look them straight in the eyes. “Why, Yes! However did you know?” You spat, sarcasm and false enthusiasm lacing in your tone. As the two men looked at each other puzzled, you brought up your leg and kicked one in the crotch. He winced in pain and immediately let go of your hands. The other one was about to bring his fist to your eye, and for a second you thought he would too, but as his arm flew towards you, you quickly ducked and dodged his punch. The man you had kicked earlier was beginning to stand up but you swiftly kicked him back to the ground.

You thought you had won, when suddenly, a punch was thrown towards your face. Grimacing in pain, you brought a hand to your eye. That was definitely gonna leave a mark in the morning. As you lay on the ground, shaking and awaiting a hard kick from one of the two, you suddenly hear a pounding of footsteps, some shouting and next thing you knew, you were sitting up, facing an incredibly worried blonde haired boy. He had a cigar between his teeth, and his eyes danced with worry.

“Hey Miss, You alright?” The boy asked, timidly taking his hand and brushing some hair out of your eyes. As you looked up at him, you gave him a small frown.

“I could’ve taken them. I didn’t need your help.” You state, picking yourself off the ground. “I would’ve soaked ‘em by now.”

The boy cocked an eyebrow and gave you a knowing look. “Sure you would.” He smirked, as he proceeded to sit on a nearby bench. “You have a black eye and a busted lip. If I hadn’t come along, you’d be a goner.”

He patted the seat next to him and you sluggishly walked over. As you sat down next to this hero of some sort, you began to notice some more of his features. Under this dim light, his eyes appeared to be a navy blue. His tousled locks appeared golden under the street lamp, and his newsboy cap was tilted at the slightest. At least, you believed he was a Newsie. He practically had all the qualities to be one.

“Hey-uh Miss?” He said, breaking the silence. Bringing your head to look up at him, he gave you a small smile. “You sure youse alright?”

Your head was spinning, and you honestly felt like shit, but this boy somehow was making you feel better.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You answered, sending him another smile.

“Could I get ‘ya name then?”

“Could I get your’s first?” You asked, giving him a teasing smirk.

“Fine, I’m Racetrack- Just call me Race. Ise one of them Manhattan Newsies nearby.” Race answered, taking off his cap to run his hand through his hair.

That was hot do that again.

You only smiled and nodded. “Racetrack hm? Nice name.”

“Could I get yours now?” He asked, waiting for your answer.

You couldn’t just give away your name now. You were the Queen of Brooklyn. Once you told him your name, he wouldn’t treat you normally anymore. At least that’s what happened when you told some newsies at the Bronx before. And besides, the lesser people that knew about you and your appearance, the lesser descriptions the cops would have.

“How about you find me a place to stay and I’ll think about it.” You offered, being amused at his impatient reaction.

“Fine. We’ll go to the Lodging house. Come on, this way.”

___

As the two of you neared the Lodging house, he stopped in his tracks.

“Alright- before ‘ya go in, you have to be real quiet. The guys in here are already sleeping and they ‘aint like being woken up.” He informed you, keeping his voice at a hush.

You just nodded in understanding, following Race.

“Here, you can sleep on my bed, I’ll just sleep on the floor.”

Widening your eyes you shook your head. “No, I couldn’t. Here, I’ll just move over. You can sleep on that side of the bed.” You declined, scooting over to the side you’d be sleeping on.

As you waited for his response, all you got was a cocky smirk and a raised eyebrow. “Wanting to share beds with me already? My my, someone’s taking it too fast.”

Your face got red and you lightly slapped his arm. “Shuddup. Can we just sleep?” You whined, not wanting to suffer from more embarrassment. Race nodded his head in amusement and scooted in beside you. Your gaze was directed towards the ceiling, not wanting to make any eye contact with him. While you played with your fingers, which was a nervous habit, Race cleared his throat.

“Are you alright?” He asked nonchalantly, placing both of his hands behind his head.

You nodded silently, before turning to face him. “And what about you?” you questioned. “You doing okay?”

He only sighed and smiled to himself. “The prettiest girl in New York is right next me, of course I’m alright.” He muttered quietly so you couldn’t hear.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. A million things were running through your mind. Quite a handsome boy was laying next to you at the moment. Too bad you had to leave early the next morning. You didn’t need to run far away. Right here was good enough. And you could sense that back in Brooklyn, Spot was worried sick. You couldn’t leave him there without telling him. Not after all he’d done for you.

Opening your eyes, you took a look at Race beside you. He had significantly moved in closer, for his nose was inches away from yours. His eyelids were fluttered shut and the corner of his mouth were tugged into a shy smile. He looked so peaceful when he slept. Turning again so you’d face him, he mumbled something then placed his arm around your waist. You held your breath, squirming out of this awkward situation, but once you were out of his grasp, he stirred. His arm reached for you again, and this time you moved in. He hugged you tightly, pressing you against his chest.

Woah, He’s really warm.

You took a look at him if he was fully asleep, and once you could confirm he was, you slowly let your head rest in the crook of his neck. You felt peaceful here. Safer than you’ve ever felt.

You felt like home.

Fluttering your eyelids closed, you smiled, not wanting for tomorrow to come.

___

Morning had dawned, and you still had a few hours before the rest of the Newsies woke up. You had gotten up an hour ago, and you were prepared to leave. As you quietly crept towards the exit, you suddenly heard an audible groan.

Turning your head quietly to the sound of the noise, you were met with a sleepy Racetrack. His usually untamed hair had gone even more crazy, as it was curled up in different directions. You stifled a laugh to see him like this. This wasn’t the same boy you met last night.

And that was also a good thing. Race looked so good in the morning. His face glowed, even though he looked deadpanned and tired. Why was he so- so -

“Where are you goin?” Race interrupted your thoughts. “Wait- don’t tell me you’re leavin already!” He exclaimed, getting a few whines from the boys.

“I hafta go, Race.” You shushed him, then explained that you had to leave now or you’d waste time. He only nodded his head and frowned as you sent him a small wave “goodbye”.

“Wait!”

You stopped in your tracks, and faced the sleepy boy once again.

“I never got your name.”

You looked at the boy, and how fond you thought of him even though you’d only met him last night. No one was awake, and if you told him your name, none of his friends would believe him since you would’ve left.

You’ve got nothing to lose.

As Race awaited your answer, you walked back over to him and whispered your name in his ear. His eyes widened as he looked you up and down again. He had just met the Queen of Brooklyn herself.

More importantly, he had met her with all her borders down. Her soft side. The side she’d never admit she had.

As Race stood there, awestruck, you gave him a peck on the cheek and proceeded back to the exit to start your trip back to Brooklyn.

“Visit me in Brooklyn sometime alright?” You said as you gave him a wide grin.

“I sure will.”

As he watched you run out the exit, he sighed and smiled to himself. His chest felt all fuzzy and warm, and he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face.

Is this was love felt like?

‘Cause I could get fucking used to this.

___

So this was my first imagine/actual writing thing!! Hope you enjoyed :)) - 🐸

#race x reader #racetrack x reader #racetrack higgens x reader #race #racetrack #racetrack higgens #newsies x reader #newsies imagine #newsies #newsies fanfiction #aggressivewritingyeet

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allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 · 7 years

Note

Newsies and Les Mis for the musicals thing!

Thanks, Katie! ❤️❤️

Newsies:

•the first song from this show I heard: sooo I was introduced to Newsies in high school chorus when we sang some songs from it and watched the movie at the end of the year, so the first song I heard from Newsies was I believe “Seize the Day" 

•do I own the cast album?: I own the movie one but I don’t own the Broadway one YET, BUT I’m gonna order it… eventually… and I listen to it on Spotify a lot in the meantime 

•favorite song: ALL OF THEM, HOW CAN I CHOOSE JUST ONE?! 

•least favorite song: if I had to pick a least favorite, it’s probably “The Bottom Line,” but that’s probably only because I don’t know all the lyrics yet because I listen to the same few songs on repeat when I’m pressed for time and want to hear/sing certain ones 

•favorite character: all of them???? Or at least all the newsies and Katherine… if I have to pick one, aaaaaaaaah, Crutchie 

•least favorite character: Pulitzer, the Delancey brothers, and Snyder 

•OTP: Jack and Katherine 

•BROTP: Jack and Crutchie, Jack and Davey, or all the newsies and Katherine as one big brotp+ 

•NOTP: idk if I have one? Idk what ships there are so idk what I’d say nope to 

•song I didn’t like at first but now do: I mean… “at first” for me was seeing the recording in theaters, where I loved them all. But when I started listening to the soundtrack, I didn’t play “Brooklyn’s Here” a lot because I wanted to learn the lyric changes in the songs that were in the movie first (and “Watch What Happens” and the reprise), but then I finally went back to it and love it again and now it’s in my playlists 

•song I used to like but now don’t: N/A, but two I can’t really listen to a lot are “Santa Fe” and “Letters from the Refuge” (WHO MADE THE DECISION TO CUT THAT FROM THE SOUNDTRACK?!?!?) because I very quickly start crying 

•is the fandom annoying?: I’m not really involved in it other than reblogging gifsets, so it’s not annoying to me 

•do I read/write fanfic for this show?: nope 

•favorite non-sung line: I have to watch it more to know, so for now I’m gonna say, “A girl? It’s a girl! How the hell? *is that even legal?*” within the context of the song and with Kara Lindsay’s line delivery 

•favorite lyric: I have a lot, but the relatable one is, “huh, it’s a synch! It could practically write itself! And let’s pray it does… ‘cause as I may have mentioned, I have no CLUE WHAt I’m doING!”and also, just because for some reason it’s really fun to sing imo, “Here’s what I think, Joe’s a jerk, he’s a rattlesnake.” “You’re right! And you know why a snake starts to rattle?” “No why?” “'Cause he’s scared!” “Yeah right…” “Go and look it up. The poor GUY’S Head is spinNING! Why would he send for the goons? An entire army? Dozens of goons and the cops?” “You know, you may be right!” “Thank you, God!” “If he wasn’t afraid-” “Exactly! He knows we’re winning!”OH AND ALSO, “BeHOLD THE BRAVE BATTALion, that STANDS side BY side, too few in number, and Too proud To hide, and SAY TO THE OTHers who DID Not folLOW THROUgh, you’re still our brothers, and WE will fight fOR you!”And also, last one so this post doesn’t get even longer, “There’s CHANGE COmin’ once and foR ALL! You makes the front pAGE, and then you is MAAAjoor news. a NEW World is coMIN' for YOU, and Joe, we is TOO, 'till once and for AAAAALL YOU're Gone.“ 

•overall rating out of 10: 11/10

—

Les Mis:

•the first song from this show I heard: either “One Day More,” “At the End of the Day,” or “Do You Hear the People Sing?” back in middle school chorus; I forget what we started with 

•do I own the cast album?: I own the 25th anniversary cast album (not the concert one but the stage cast one, I think partly because it had more songs on it than the others I found and liked, but I have the 25th anniversary concert on DVD) 

•favorite song: can I just consider it as one really long song and say all of it? Except… 

•least favorite song: “Lovely Ladies”… I shouldn’t have heard that song as early as I did (or at least it was early imo in my otherwise pretty sheltered life), and I do know all the lyrics now but that doesn’t mean I like it, I was just to lazy or preoccupied by homework to skip it enough times that I learned the words 

•favorite character: Eponine Thernardier because relatable 

•least favorite character: the people that creep on Fantine. But as for characters whose names I know, I’m not the biggest Marius fan tbh, oblivious dude, and everybody else dies but he’s the one who survives because he’s got heart eyes for the adopted daughter of the main character. THEY EVEN KILL GAVROCHE BUT MARIUS GETS MARRIED. Forever bitter that Gavroche and Eponine die. 

•OTP: I want to say Eponine and Marius, but she deserves better if he’s just gonna obliviously hurt her feelings that he doesn’t notice. Like seriously dude, you don’t have to feel the same way about her as she does about you, but can you at least acknowledge her existence and feelings and not make her take the letter you wrote to the girl you like and just crush her heart like that? 

•BROTP: I don’t know if I have one for this 🤔 

•NOTP: Marius and Cosette 🙄🙄🙄 (okay fine, they’re cute-ish and their songs together are great. But they’ve got the Romeo and Juliet pining and romantic mush minus their deaths, and the Romeo and Juliet type of romance just isn’t my thing. Romeo is like dudes like Prince Humperdinck except his Buttercup said yes 😍.) 

•song I didn’t like at first but now do: “Stars” wasn’t my favorite at first, and I still sometimes have to be in the mood for it to listen to it, but I love it now 

•song I used to like but now don’t: idk if there’s any I stopped liking 

•is the fandom annoying?: not that I’ve experienced. Again I’m not really involved and AND I’M JAVEERT is funny to me 

•do I read/write fanfic for this show?: nope 

•favorite non-sung line: are there any non-sung lines? (🎶There’s no talking. All of the dialog is sung in a veRY draMATic FAAAAshion.🎶) I seriously can’t think of any off the top of my head. It’s been a while since I listened to it though so idk. 

•favorite lyric: “EVERY WORD THAT HE SAYS IS A DAGGER IN MEEE!” (I probably have other faves that are more… thought-provoking I guess? But that one is just fun to yell-sing emotionally) 

•overall rating out of 10: 11/10

(I love both of these musicals a lot, okay?)

(Also idk if I spelled everyone’s name right, but I’m gonna post now because I’m afraid the app might crash if I close it to look them up)

Thank you again, Katie! Sorry my answers got so long lol ❤️

#kellysjack #Kayla answers #newsies #les mis #les miserables #musicals

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