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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Things that live rent free in my head newsies edition:
Spot collion with gal pals (especially Sarah because I read a fic where they had a short time book club but it was pretty much them just complain about a book together for a day)
Musical jacks out if is first act movie David's outfit
I think about Sarah punching Morris at least three times a day
The fact that Jack Kelly's real name is Francis Sullivan
I think everyone should of had one good swing at Jack after he scabed
Just movie David, I love that we get to see more of his character
I love the song high times, hard times
"The world is your eyster"
"I've got 𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓽𝔂"
"I object" "on what grownds?" "on the grounds of Brooklyn your honor"
(I will most definitely be adding more or making more newsies thought posts)
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So @davesjacobs and I were talking about west-endsies sprace so I’m gonna share our thoughts:
- Bi4Bi for the win (which makes my bi heart very happy)
- They’re a (and I quote) “girlboss and malewife who also kicks ass with her”
- There’s still the height difference and Spot owns it
- She will routinely grab the collar of his shirt to pull him down to kiss him on the lips or cheek
- They’re the cheek-kissing kinda couple. That’s their casual affection. Proper kissing is just a little something extra.
- Unlike the other versions of sprace which would - frankly - be awful at keeping the secret, west endsies sprace would be able to keep the secret for ages (like months, nearly a year)
- The only reason anyone finds out is because Spot was seen kissing Race’s cheek after selling with him for a day
- They have a sharp kinda humour. To anyone else, it seems overly dry and hurtful but to them, it’s all good fun.
- When the other Brooklyn newsies/girlsies/Bowery Beauties (for a reason I explain here kinda) discover the relationship, they corner Race and ask him, “What are your intentions?” and he laughs because Spot can and has beat his ass.
- Once every few weeks, the two of them watch Medda’s show from the rafters or the very back and just share stories about the shenanigans from their respective boroughs. Their own small, quiet dates in their otherwise loud, chaotic lives
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Believe it or not, when Spot gets drunk, he gets emotional.
He’s always seemed like the type of guy to punch a wall, or perhaps even another person, when he’s trashed (y’know, the regular stuff that he usually does when he’s sober), but when he gets a bit of alcohol in him, it’s surprising how quickly that changes.
Maybe it’s the fact that he’s finally able to let loose, or maybe it’s just the effects of the drink, but Spot gets weirdly sentimental, and it’s not an uncommon occurrence for him to see one of his boys (or Race, or really anyone he cares for) and just start sobbing because he loves them so much, and they’re just so great, and he’s sorry that he never says it, and-
Yeah. Spot’s definitely more emotional when he’s drunk.
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hey do you have anything else about the conlon siblings?!
hi! i’m so sorry for leaving this unanswered for so long, tumblr loves not notifying me.
i actually haven’t really thought about them in a while, but i so do appreciate you taking an interest in my take on spot’s life. it means a lot.
however, i do have a scene from an unfinished fic of mine that i’m more than happy to share! maybe one day i’ll be able to finish it. in the meantime, i’d love to be able to talk about it more!
there is a handful of (google translate—i don’t know the language as well as i wish i did) tagalog, but there should be enough context to have an idea of what’s being said.
She lets out a breath and leans back onto the brick wall. Taking one last look at the newspaper, she gently folds it and tucks it into her pocket for safekeeping. Aside from the lodging house, all the nearby tenement lights have been turned off for the night. Only the stars and moon keep Spot company, and she basks in the peace and solitude.
It isn’t long until the window is creaking open and two small shadows are cast onto the railing before her.
“Ate,” drawls out Dash. “You’ve been takin’ forever, we’s tired’a waitin’. Christ, what took you so long?”
Running a finger over the familiar material in her pocket, Spot only answers, “Jus’ lost in thought, the night is nice. Didn’t mean’ta worry ya. Ready for bed?”
Dash nods.
“Narinig naming nag-uusap,” Mini says, leaning over the windowsill. “Nandito ba si Tony?”
“Race was here?” gasps Dash. “Bakit hindi mo sinabi sa amin?” she hits Spot’s arm.
Spot shrugs, too tired to deal with her sister’s interrogation. “He wasn’t here long, didn’t think it was too important to call ya over.”
“Don’t tell me you was kissin’ the whole time.” Dash makes a face.
Spot rolls her eyes, smacking her back. “Wala, nag-uusap lang kami.”
“Oo, talkin’ about kissin’, I bet.”
“Watch it. It’s past time’ta be a brat right now.”
“So, no stories?” Mini cuts in with a pout.
Spot’s heart breaks a little. Whenever he makes the trek over, they would pile onto the rickety fire escape at night and Race would regale them with the happenings over in Manhattan or he’d twist a story out of thin air. Those are always Spot’s personal favorite, while Dash claims to be too old for fairytales and delights in the crazy antics of the borough over. Mini could listen to Race read the obituaries and still watch him in awe, settling on the teen’s lap and falling asleep to the melodic tone of his voice.
She feels a little sad that Race had to leave so soon.
“Sorry, Sean,” she shakes her head. “Not tonight. Want me to read one of the books we have? I can do that.”
With a yawn, Mini nods his head while lifting his arms up to be carried.
“Sige, move aside.” She climbs back into the building and closes the window shut. Lifting her brother into her arms, she begins to usher her sister over to their bunk.
The rest of the night passes in a blur, the exhaustion of the day creeping up on her. The children’s book she reads sound like gibberish to her ears, she doesn’t quite recall getting up to switch off the lights, and it feels like an endless stream of goodnights until she collapses into her bunk still fully dressed.
Spot drifts to sleep that night with a thousand worries, yet without a single thought.
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