Rip Skittery, You Would Have Loved The Front Bottoms

blink hcs pleaseee

NEWSIES HEADCANONS (Blink edition)

1. He has scars all over him, especially over his back. No matter how much convincing he will not undress I front of the other newsies because he's embarrassed about it.

2. He is the SNARKIEST ever to the bulls, he always has a come back or a way to piss them off 😭 (in a deleted scene when the officer was like "I've got my eye on you kid." And he was like "Don't worry ill keep mine on you too.")

3. If he's getting attacked or jumped, he will just pull up his eye patch, flash them for a second, and run whilst they're in shock.

4. When he laughs hard, he goes completely silent and smacks things

5. Evil mfer, he's always plotting something... everybody knows that mischievous glint in his eyes when he gets an idea 😭

6. Him and Jack are a mean girl duo, they tag team off each other to become the biggest haters ever. They go way too far and say the most diabolical stuff. Like a random man will walk past, and Blink will just yell, "OMG, HES HUGE." bacuse he has no filter at all. 😭

7. He is SO bad for swearing. He curses like every other word. He always gets yelled at because of the little kids around.

8. Blink had trust issues from his previous family life, so when Jack scabbed, he is still salty about it to this day and won't believe a word that comes out of his mouth. Jack will say, "I had pancakes thus morning." And Blink will just be like , "no you didn't."

9. He has a secret bottle of whisky under his bed for when he's feeling devious

10. He is a big fan of dogs and really wants a border collie when he gets his own house.

Send me any headcanons you have and I'll react to them 😜😜😜

Couple things🗞

Empathy vs apathy

Blush: mush= empathy blink= apathy

Javid: Davey= empathy jack= apathy

Sprace: race= empathy spot=apathy

Sun vs moon (based on apperances)

Blush: Blink=sun Mush=moon

Javid: Jack= sun Davey=moon

Sprace: Spot= sun Race=moon

Black cat vs golden retriever

Blush: Blink=Black cat Mush= golden retriever

Javid: Davey= Black cat Jack=golden retriever

Sprace: spot= Black cat race=golden retriever

Their trope

Blush: friends to lovers

Javid: strangers to lovers

Sprace: enemy's to lovers

Their place

Blush: a bench in Central park

Javid: the fire escape

Sprace: Booklyn harbour/Bridge

NEWSIES HEADCANONS:

1. Mush is literally the CLINGIEST person EVER, like if he likes you, that's it,he is physically latched onto you whenever you're around.

2. When race goes to see spot in his lodging house (he has to climb to up to a window so nobody sees), he always calls spot a princess in a tower and it drives him INSAINE.

3. Skittery is the typa guy to just randomly start laughing and giggling hysterically out of nowhere, and everybody just kinda stares at him (he's a little insaine, but that's okay)

4. Davey was on the debate team when he was at school, but his speeches were always too long, and he got frustrated when he couldn't get his point across fast enough ao he quit (that happened to me)

5. After almost every race, Race goes down and tries to convince the owner to let him go pet the horses,they only said yes once and he won't let it go

6. In Brooklyn, if somebody is refusing to get out of bed in the morning spot will literally just pick them up and throw them off the docs into the water outside 😭

7. Davey and his dad have the most unbreakable bond ever.

8. Jack picks up on 'fancy' words davey uses and then uses them incorrectly when talking.

9. Crutchie is the WORST sleep talker ever. He just babbles in his sleep but doesn't say anything that makes sense

10. Blink has no filter at all. The first thing that comes into hisbdead is said out loud. Good or bad.

I can totally imagine Blink banning Mush from watching the news or reading the paper when it's a sad story. Mush is so empathetic and shared sympathy final boss, that when he reads about a good assassination, an earthquake, or a war, he starts crying purely because he feels SO bad for them.

Stop his frigging three quarter lengths are too cute, I'm gonna melt 😭

Can u guys send me ur most contravential newsies opinions pls 🙈🩷🙈🩷🙈🩷🙈

THIS IS PERFECT I LOVE IT SO MUCH

A fire inside us that won't stop burning

The clashes of swords and spears, metal against metal, the blazes of fire and explosions, the screams of foes and friends alike.

Bumlets wasn't faring well in the throes of war, just glad that as the court mage he wasn't expected or needed at the front lines, rather sending spells raining down from a vantage point, enchanting and cursing weapons or warding armour of soldiers or healing the wounded. But he still saw his share of mangled remains, smelt iron and burnt skin and couldn't keep track of his friends or partners.

He hadn't seen the King or the Captain of the guard for a long time, the latter being expected as Swifty had to lead soldiers into battle, even if not the first of the attack line never straying far from it, shouting orders and pulling people away from dangerous situations.

But Bumlets should have seen his King somewhere in the back of the lines where he himself was, and maybe he shouldn't be as worried, he had no right to be, not as just the court mage, but as a man he worried for the person he smiled at while waking up, the person that fell sleep in his arms, exhausted, after the weight on his shoulders wore him thin for the day.

And he also worried about the man that made him smile showing him flowers or pretty stones he found, that curled up in the sun in ridiculous places in the castle sometimes like a puppy, but he especially couldn't worry about Vincent fighting at the front lines when his worry for a partner and the worry for his King overlapped. There was only enough worry in his mind for one, he was worn thin enough as it was.

And it was his duty to care for his King.

"Maester Alejandro, come quick, it's the King-"

He was already running before the knave could finish his sentence. If he was called, it was looking grim, no help from a doctor to be expected to do anything. So he ran as fast as he could, to where two knights fought off anyone trying to get close to their clearly injured King. He had to bring him out of there.

"Come with me.", he ordered the knave, picking their King up and carrying him close to his chest, the knights covering their retreat. Bumlets only let him down once they had found a secluded part of a ruin, the corner protecting them from two sides and most of the way into their own territory.

He could see even with the armour that Skittery was hurt gravely, blood seeping from his chest, face pale and red around his mouth. If he didn't start soon, he would never make it.

"Secure the area, I need time to stabilize him.", he ordered the young boy, not even looking at him as he loosened the armour to properly access the wound. It was a grave injury, more than Bumlets had healed with magic in his life, but it would have to work. He would have to succeed, there was no other option.

Concentrating his magic, he started a spell, blue light mixed with specs of gold flowing from his hands into the wound. He slowly upped the strength, feeling his blood run hotter, his energy draining, but he had to succeed.

Going higher and higher, urging more of his trusted power into the body before him, he saw some of the wound closing, but not enough. Even if it already transformed to a pain in his head, his veins burning hotter the closer they were to his hands, to where he concentrated the magic, he had to continue.

Still, there was no sign of consciousness for his King.

There was no telling how long he'd been pouring all he had in, when his vision started to narrow, everything apart from Skittery's face blurring, his magic core in his chest aching, trying to flow magic instead of only drippling the meagre rest it must at that point be, the concentrated magical power now burning not just inside but his skin, his hands blistering and the skin breaking, the smell of burnt flesh once more present on this battlefield.

"It has to work, he has to live, I'll do whatever it takes, please.", he pleaded to whoever was willing to listen, whichever power might have mercy with him as he fought to keep his love from the forces of death. Death might be inevitable.

But it didn't have to happen today.

One last flaming hot surge of power went through him before he burnt out completely, leaving not just his own hands at ruin, but a faint blistering over the healed scar on the King's chest, finally closed and hopefully again with enough blood that he would make it.

"Michael? Mica, c-can you..." Bumlets fell forward, suddenly only embers of himself remaining, barely catching himself with his destroyed hands, biting his lip in pain and instead resting on his elbow, needing to hold on until he saw if it worked or not.

"Mica, wake up, please."

His own consciousness, maybe his entire lifeforce was fading, fire smouldering, but he needed to know.

Brown eyes fluttered open, breath shallow but there.

Bumlets didn't even hear his King ask what happened or call his name before he already collapsed, fingers and hands burnt, and eyes almost completely blue and golden, bloody tears having streamed down his face.

The only important thing was, that he’d survived. And with his duty fulfilled, there was nothing holding the mage afloat in the currents sweeping him into the darkness.

Ever since he'd heard the horns signalling the end of the fight, Swifty had one thought in his head: where were Michael and Alejandro?

He hadn't seen the King or Court Mage in a long time, but it wasn't unusual to not see them at the front lines. Still, he couldn't start searching for them right away, in absence of the King he was the highest authority, he had to organize the retreat, give orders of transporting the dead, help save what could be saved. His back and side hurt, but it didn't seem to be a major wound, so he just pushed on, giving answers and plans out, helping other knights get up and to the medics.

As it was mostly calm, he went to that tent himself, expecting Bumlets to be there, healing what he could, but the nervous face of his apprentice, Flipper, already told him that couldn't be the case.

"Sir Vincent, have you seen my Master, I can't find him and-"

"I need a medic, quickly, t-the King and the court mage-"

Swifty and Flipper both quickly looked at the knave running into the tent, worry evident on their faces.

Something big must have happened.

Swifty intercepted the knave and doctor as they ran out. "What happened to the King?" and mage

The knave sighed in relief, motioning for him to please join them. "Sir Vincent, I'm so glad you're here, we need to get the King transported, he was gravely injured, and I got Maester Alejandro to heal him, but I'm not sure if it worked and now the Wizard isn't... he isn't conscious, I didn't know what to do, so I got more help."

Skittery mortally wounded, Bumlets using an excessive amount of power to heal him... it felt like a nightmare come to life, but Swifty had to push on. They needed medical attention as soon as possible.

The sight was even worse than he'd imagined, Bumlets half laying on Skittery, blood running down his face and his veins almost seeming to faintly glow blue and golden, pulsating the closer they were to his hands.

And oh his hands... even from what he could see, one hand still by Skittery's chest where he could see the remnants of a nasty scar and slight burns, it looked like all fingers and the flesh of his hand were burnt, skin having cracked and almost burst open to let out all the power he must have poured into their King's body for even the sliver of a hope to save him.

And at least for now he could hope that it worked, seeing Skittery's chest rise slightly and his half-lidded eyes trying to focus on them.

"S' Vincent-"

"It's okay your highness, we'll bring you to the infirmary tent as soon as you've been looked over.", he said quietly, hoping to bring attention to the fact they weren't alone and that the others would only assume he'd been addressed by his title and nothing more familiar.

So the medic could have access to their King, Swifty carefully lifted Bumlets off him, finding his heart weakly beating and breaths coming out of his mouth. At least he hadn't died at the ritual, even if it seemed to be a close call. Far too close for comfort.

Swifty attempted to at least clean him off the blood in his face while the others were distracted, wanting to give some comfort to his lover even if he couldn't show more. It hurt him and Swifty didn't know what he should think or do, this wasn't anything at all he could help with and he didn't know how to act, what could he do to help him, would he even wake up-

"Sir Vincent, can you carry his highness? With the rest of his armour on we can't move him properly and he needs to be transported as soon as possible.", the medic half ordered of him. Skittery's quiet pleads helped his decision too.

"I can, but we also need to take the mage, this doesn't look good."

The knave nodded, doing his best to pick up Bumlets, even if not in a near as comfortable carrying position as Swifty did with the King. Well, at least Bumlets was unconscious and hopefully wouldn't notice.

With Skittery in his arms, Swifty felt more grounded again, holding him a bit closer than he needed to, moving his thumb reassuringly against his love's arm. The warmth he felt meant to calm him as much as it did Swifty himself. Both men could have been cold and lifeless when he'd found them, and he wouldn't even have known to help them.

Sure, there were no indicators, but the King must have been injured somewhere near the fight, Swifty should have been there to protect him, to stop the need of magic healing him at all, and yet… it seemed he’d only managed to protect Skittery when he was still a prince, mostly hidden from the world and even later when they’d challenged his father, but there was no guaranteed protection he could still give him, no matter how much he wanted to.

It ate him up that he had no power to do anything, to preserve the lights of his life, the sight of Alejandro concentrating on a book or brewing a potion, brows slightly scrunched together and mouth twitching when he went over an ingredient he didn't like to prepare. Or Mica sending him an annoyed look between political inquiries, needing a short hug in the few seconds they could sometimes be alone between rooms, needing to recharge just the slightest bit to hold on to his duties.

But he'd have to trust that they were strong enough to hold on, and that they could be helped.

tags for who said they wanted to see it, I hope that's okay: @thatoneandlonelyemo2005, @bumlets-appreciation-blog, @what-the-newsies

Annoying little brothers

Notes: I changed some of the ages around, race-13, crutchie- 14, jack- 16

Today was a good day for crutchie. It had been one of those days where papes practically flew out of his hand, he hadnt had to change the headline and the sun was prominant and warm since dawn therefore eliminating any joint problems in his leg. This put people in a cheery mood, letting him keep the change and offering him any spare food they did not want. Not to mention that it had been his birthday a few days prior, and he had been gifted an old, tattered notebook along with a comedically worn down and tiny pencil.

So there he was, sat lazily on his bunk with his legs crossed and the stupidest fuzzy feeling in his chest he got whenever he felt joy. He had the notebook in his hand where he was neatly drawing various shapes. He was concentrating so hard his tongue was sticking half out of his mouth.

"What is ya doin'?" Race chirped as he flopped back on to the mattress.

"Havin' a tea party." Crutchie half-heartedly responded, far to infactuated with his square having perfectly straight lines.

"Wow yous a funny one arnt ya." Race rolled his eyes and twisted his cigar in his mouth.

"I try." Crutchie barely had time to respond before race crawled up the bed and sat between his now open legs, with his back to crutchies chest. Race let his head roll onto the taller boys shoulder and looked up at him with big, chocolate brown eyes. Crutchie forced an angry look on his face, he squinted his eyes and furrowed his brows, pulling his lips tightly across his face.

"Get off." He tried to say in a low rumbly tone but his duck-like voice did not help him there.

Race guffawed and bit his lip,the next minute, he was in hysterical laughter. It was so infectious that crutchie began to laugh aswell, they sat there in a hysterical state, both boys trying to get words out but failing by being overtaken by giggles.

"Crutch- Ise can't - yous look so funny - nahahahhahahaha." Race forced these words out, but the giggles bubbling up in his throat had popped and spewed out his mouth. After a while, the laughter had died down, but the boys still had wide smiles plastered cross their faces and were now in a very giggly mood.

"What are ya laughin' at?" Jack called from across the room.

"Nothin." Both boys replied at the exact same time before turning to each other and exploding into another laughing fit.

"Hmmm." Jack raised his eyebrow suspiciously before turning back to his conversation with blink and mush.

They went back to drawing, and crutchie in his giggle-ridden and silly state decided that it would be extremely humorous to draw an ugly monster. He gave it a massive round stomach, with legs that stuck out in the wrong direction, feet that were longer than the body as a whole, and a grimey, discombobulated face. Race and crutchie were giggling quietly every time a new feature was added, both quite amused by themselves. Then, race snatched the pencil and drew a little cowboy hat on the creature along with an arrow that pointed to the word "Jack." The boys made eye contact before breaking into the most insaine and psychotic laughing fit anyone in that boarding house had ever heard. They were practically screaming, race bad tears brimming in his eyes, and crutchie was holding his aching sides.

"Seriously guys, what is so damn funny?" Jack asked sounding strict, yet the way the corners of his mouth were slightly curling ruined his authority persona.

Crutchie panicked at the sound of jacks voice and quickly slammed the book shut.

"Ah-um nothing." He stammered unconvincing.

He tried to read Jack's face, but his eyes were glued to the book. He brushed his blonde hair out of his eyes and proceeded to calmly walk up to them. They both froze in fear, but those silly smiles just would not budge.

"Give me the book crutch." Jack asked gently, holding his hand out. Unfortunately for cutchie, he made eye contact with race, which for some god-dammed reason made the both of them giggle manically and hide their red, embarrassed faces.

"Give. Me. The. Book." Jack demanded getting a little too close for their liking.

Crutchie scrambled off the bed, desperately reaching for his Crutch just to be swooped up and gently placed on the floor by Jack. They then began to wrestle on the floor, tossing and turning, trying to get the upper hand. All the while, both of them chucking brightly. After a few minutes jack decided he'd had enough of pretending to lose and swiftly flipped them,pinning one of crutchies arms onto the floor. The book still clutched tightly in the other. He frantically looked around for an escape hatch. (Which he did not find)

"Race catch!" He called out before lugging the book in races' direction. The boy still engulfed in giggles from watching his brothers fight on the floor, supringingly caught the book, and quickly hid it behind his back.

"Give me the book race." Jack said in a teasy tone standing over race. Compared to Jack-or just about anyone really- race was tiny, Jack quite literally TOWERED over him like a sky scraper. Race gave him the best puppy dog eyes he could, the no-please-dont-arrest-me look he usually gave to the bulls. He beamed cutely up at his big brother.

"What book Jackie?" He asked innocently not breaking his gaze.

Jack smiled down into his little brothers huge,dark, pleading eyes.

"You know that look only works on me when you're not being a little shit."

Race bolted. Sure, Jack was stronger, but he was faster. He weaved in and out of the bunks, even jumping over a few of the bottom bunks(with jack following close behind),they ran around the washing area as the whole room stared at them, all just as curious of what could possibly be in the book. He saw the door to the hallway, freedom he was almost there, he was going to make it- THUD.

Blink had stuck his leg out from where he was sat and had race trip over it, crashing to the floor. Book strapped by his arms to his chest. He landed only a few spaces away from crutchie, who was still lay there, exhausted from his earlier efforts.

"You've got nowhere else to run. Give it to me." Jack said smugly. Race wanted to smack that look right off Jack's face. He tried to crawl away but felt himself being lifted off the floor and thrown over jacks shoulder. He shrieked in surprise and dropped the book.

"Now, was tha' so hard?" Jack flicked through the first few pages of squiggles and shapes. The two younger boys were nervously giggling, and race was squirming around trying to loaen jacks grip. Then he got to. The page. He made a little choaked sound and stared in horror. The laughing intensified, and now they were high-pitched cackling uncontrollably. In jacks gob-smacked state, Mush was able to grab the book and show the remaining of the inquisitive boys. The room erupted into henious laughter from all the boys.

"Ise wouldn't havtha peisonally." Specs called dramatically. An evil grin spread across jacks seemingly shocked face.

He placed race down next to crutchie, so they were lying, back to the floor right next to eachother. They were no longer laughing, they were just terrified. They shared a nervous glace before looking up at Jack. They were completely and utterly at his mercy.

"Any last words?" Jack asked putting a firm hand on each of them to keep them station.

"Uhhhh...its a different Jack?" Race asked flashing a terrified smile.

The evil glint in jacks eyes did not dissipate. He began to mercilessly tickle his younger brothers. They both squaked and dissolved into frantic cackles and squeales.

"Yous think yous so funny, well I'll give ya somethin' to laugh about!"

"HAHAHA JACK IM SORR- HAHAHA BLINK I HATE YOU!" Race roared in laughter.

"Oops." Bink sighed, staring at the ripped out picture of Jack. He took the gum out of his mouth and used it to hang the picture right above jacks bed.

another head cannon cause I got nothin better to do.

Looks like a cinnamon roll, could kill you – Race

Looks like he would kill you, would kill you – Spot

like that one scene from the movie where spot holds race back and then tries to soak jack. but also, if spot goes down, you better run cause race is about to go absolutely feral. they dont call him race for no reason. yes he likes the races, but he's also fast as hell

sorry but sprace and javid have carved their way into my heart

Real that scene is so funny because spots all like nooo dont fight, then 2 mins later, he's trying to scrap jack 😭

Sprace,javid and blush are my fav 🩷

Omg did they really say that

For anyone who needs this:

They're prouddd

SPRACE HCS

1. When race is too tired to get up in the morning (he is not a morning person) spot will just carry him round on his hip whilst he gets ready and does errands until race can be bothered to stand.

2. When talking too eachother they use last names ALOT

3. Constantly bicker over whose taller

4. They both get a kick out of pretending to not know/like each other around other newsies

5. Race always starts tickle fights but always ends up losing (somebody write this as a fic and tag me because that's so cute)

6. Once accidentally swapped suspenders for a day, whilst leaving in a rush

7. Bullying as a type of flirting or the sappiest shit you've ever heard

8. Race is always doing something "for the plot," and it drives spot insaine, trying to keep him from doing something dumb.

9. When race is mad spot will use "pretty" or "baby" to get Race to melt back into his arms

10. Spot loves Races eyes and thinks about them all the time

My fav boys ever.