GENTLEMEN (gender neutral)
After Thirteen (and a half) Hours Of Work
I PRESENT TO YOU
THE DANCE AT MEDDA'S!!!!!!!! :DDDD
i already know tumblr's gonna mess with the quality so closeups under the cut xx
FEATURING
skittery n les havin fun, you cant convince me they arent besties
specs playin piano n ro leaning on his bf's leg
blush bein absofuckinlutly adorable ahdhshh i love them sm
finch having fun teasing albie and al having a crisis because of it
spot eeping on race's lap (cus @newsiesfixation fell asleep an made it canon spot did too lmao), race covered his (now bf) with his jacket, and crutchie giggling at redfinch's antics and also at jack n dave
jack about to destroy race for lettin spot fall asleep on his lap, and davey trying to stop that from happening
newsbians finding everyone else hilarious
and last but CERTAINLY not least, medda overlooking her (very large and very loud) gaggle of assorted children!!!!
im so friggin proud of this you guys i cant even jahdjskshshsk
tagging because i think they'd wanna see it, @crutchie-69 @toffyrats @ftm-megamind and i already tagged jackie earlier :)
please lemme know whatchu think pookies<3
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in manhattan, when one newsie gets sick, they all get sick. and they're fucked right now. "it ain't my fault!" jojo shouts. "buttons got me sick!" everyone rounds on buttons.
"yeah, like i fuckin chose to be sick," he mutters. the crowd of sick newsies starts yelling at him.
"everyone shuddup!" jack shouts from his bed. "i got a headache."
"someone gimme some help out here!" tommy boy calls from outside. specs, blink, and skittery go to give him a hand with whatever it is.
"what happened?" all the newsies hear snatches of conversation from outside.
"-in the street."
"-when to stop-" blink and skittery enter, holding an unconscious race between them. "ay, mush, move it." they toss race onto a bed.
"what happened to him?" ike asks quietly. there's a small cut on race's forehead that's bleeding.
"oh, he passed out in the street," skittery explains. "he's sick and wouldn't take the day off. never was very smart."
"now he's dead," blink adds.
"what?" a shout goes up from some of the younger ones until mush smacks blink around the head and tells everyone blink's kidding.
"they're kids, stop scarin them," mush orders him. "also, race being sick means only one thing. someone has gotta go tell spot conlon."
"yeah, that ain't scary," blink mutters. "uh, boots, go to brooklyn and tell spot he's got a sick boyfriend." boots heads off dutifully.
the next hour is a mess. all the newsies fret over race, who sleeps the whole time. and then everyone goes silent and dumbstruck when spot enters.
they're used to cold, intimidating, angry spot. not a caring spot. not a spot who immediately runs to race's side and starts checking on him.
spot presses his hand to race's forehead and then hugs him tight, pressing kisses to the top of his head. "ay!" crutchie shouts. "everyone hit the beds and give them some space!" race wakes up soon enough, with a worried spot sitting bedside.
"race!"
"whatcha doing here? i's just sick. ain't dying or nothing." spot kisses his forehead and stares at him.
"ya passed out in the street. gotta take it easy."
"when one of us gets sick, we all get sick. i ain't dying, spot, i promise."
"you need food." race shrugs.
"i ain't hungry."
"race. listen to me. you need food, you're sick."
"i'll throw it up."
"i will shove it down your throat if you don't eat the food i bring ya."
"spot-"
"tony. shut up. i's getting you some chicken soup. don't argue." race watches him walk out, smiling a little dopily.
all the newsies start hooting and cheering, whistling at race.
"alright, alright!" race shouts. "i got a headache."
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Mush: Wow, that’s your friend?!
Spot: Why the tone of surprise?
Mush: Nothing, just that Racetrack's so bubbly and you’re so... so...
Spot, threateningly: So what?
Mush: Uhhh– Also bubbly! And really really nice! And…
Spot: And?
Mush: And really good at giving compliments!
Mush: Jack, remember the time Spot complimented you?
Jack: You mean the time Medda made us say one nice thing about each other and Spot said I “have hair”?
Spot, deadpan: You do have hair.
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