#Newsies imagine

[youaintnothinbuta]

I’m so glad I found a person who writes for newsies! Can you write something about Jack being super protective and caring about the reader? They aren’t dating yet but whenever the Delancy bros bother her or another newsie he’s like 🏃 “gotta go protect my girl”

Thank you!!!

“You don’t need to put up with their nonsense.” - jack kelly x reader 

Summary: ^^^

Pairing: jack kelly x fem!reader

Word count: 413

Warnings: none, fluff, probably typosss you know how I am

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You navigated the crowded sidewalk, your focus set on the task that was getting your stack of papes for the day. You dreaded this point in the morning, as the Delancey Brothers were never particularly kind.

As you approached the gates, Oscar and Morris intercepted your path. A pair of mischievous grins painted their faces as they watched you, you knew their snide remarks were about to begin.

“Look who we got here, you lost little girl?” Oscar quipped, a sly grin playing on his face. You startled slightly as he jumped in your face out of nowhere.

Morris joined in, “What's the matter, sweetheart? You’re not scared of me, are ya?”

“Please, just gimme my papes.” You sighed, trying to brush off their comments, determined to maintain your composure. However, the relentless jabs persisted, wearing down your resolve with each passing word. Amidst the taunts, Jack, who had been preoccupied with sorting through a fresh batch of papes, caught wind of the commotion. His eyes narrowed as he observed the Delancey Brothers harassing you, a protective instinct flickering within him.

Without hesitation, Jack swiftly approached, his stride purposeful and his gaze piercing. “What's going on here?” he demanded, a subtle growl underlying his words.

Oscar, ever the provocateur, responded with a dismissive laugh. “Just having a little fun with the girl, Kelly. Nothing to get your feathers all ruffled about.”

Jack's eyes flashed with a mixture of concern and a simmering anger. He positioned himself between you and the Delancey Brothers. “What a poor excuse of a man you are to be picking on a girl like this.”

Morris scoffed, locking eyes with Jack. “Save the hero act. She ain’t bothered, are ya honey?”

You looked at Jack, your eyes asking him not to leave. Jack reached to your hand and took the pennies from you, he smacked them down in front of the Delancey brothers and snatched a stack of papers from Oscar, handing them to you. Jack's hand found its way to the small of your back, guiding you away from the Delancey Brothers with a protective gesture. “You don't need to put up with their nonsense. Stick with me, I won’t let them harass you like that again.”

“Thank you, Jack.” Your cheeks were tinted slightly pink by his words.

As you continued on your way, Jack maintained a protective hold on you, casting a lingering, meaningful glance over his shoulder to ensure the Delancey Brothers got the message.

#newsies #newsies broadway #newsies jack kelly #jack kelly newsies #newsies imagine #racetrack newsies #race newsies #jack kelly #jeremy jordan newsies #jack kelly x reader #reader x jack kelly #jack kelly fluff #jack kelly x reader smut #jack kelly hcs #jack kelly headcanons #jack kelly smut #jeremy jordan jack kelly #reader c jack Kelly #newsies fanfic #newsies x reader #livesies

[auspicious-manner]

maybe a little morris delancey x ballet dancer!reader and him getting all soft when he sees her perform up on the stage?

oh i am ALL for this. as an ex-dancer, this was a dream to write! i tried not to include too much terminology so it wouldn’t get confusing.

so sorry this took so long, life has gotten very busy being back at university. but i’m trying to keep up as much as possible!

fem reader x morris delancey

warnings: none

mike taglist: @diorgirl444

Tough

•

“whaddya say to spendin’ the night with me, pretty girl?” your boyfriend, morris delancey, asked as you walked down the streets of new york city, hand in hand. the sun was just beginning to disappear behind the horizon, lighting the city up in an ethereal orange glow.

you leaned your body closer into his arm. “as lovely as that sounds, i got a show tonight.”

in order to make some extra cash to survive in new york, you got a job at medda’s theater performing three shows a week. when asked what special talents you had in your interview, you told medda that you had trained in ballet since you were young, but given that you barely had enough money to keep food on the table, you couldn’t afford pointe shoes despite being trained on them.

on the spot, she offered you a deal; typical performers performed one to two shows a week, but if you could handle it, she’d give you three shows a week and take the cost of the shoes out of your pay every other week. to you, that deal sounded like a dream come true.

morris never came to your shows, he always said he had “business to attend to” on the nights you performed. you weren’t really sure what that meant, but you could assume it had something to do with harassing those newsie boys that you felt a bit of sympathy for. he always claimed he was too tough to be seen watching a show in a theater.

morris threw his head back dramatically as you both walked. “you’re always at that theater. we never get to spend time together anymore.”

you smiled playfully. “you know, you could come to my show tonight since you keep avoidin’ it like the plague. what’s it gonna hurt you, morris?”

he thought about it briefly. “i could take a night off, come watch you do your little thing. how about that?” morris asked, half joking.

you immediately burst into a grin, ignoring the fact that he sounded a bit sarcastic with that proposal. all you’ve ever wanted was for your boyfriend to come watch you do what you do best. “that sounds perfect.”

unbeknownst to you, morris didn’t exactly want to see your show. sure, he loved you and would do pretty much anything you asked him to, but his idea of a fun night wasn’t going to a theater to watch a boring show with a bunch of old people. but seeing how you beamed at the idea of him finally coming to watch you made him feel like the only thing worse than going would be not going.

you stopped walking so you could stand in front of him, his tall stature standing over you. “the show starts at 7. you promise me you’ll be there?”

morris hesitated before nodding. “wouldn’t miss it for nothin’.”

you stood on your toes to reach up and give him a soft kiss. “i have to start getting ready. i’ll see you there?”

he put his hands on your hips, pulling you close. “of course.”

you whispered an okay before removing yourself from his grip, as much as you didn’t want to leave. you weren’t far from the theater, and when you got there, you found that you had approximately two hours to get fully ready and warmed up.

your dressing room was small and compact and below ground level. it was the only room medda could provide you, but you were thankful to even have a dressing room. there was one small window near the ceiling that provided a small look into the streets of new york city.

as you applied your stage makeup, you heard a light tapping coming from the window. you frowned, as hearing rhythmic noises directly against the glass was uncommon. you pulled your chair over to the wall, standing on it and further standing on your tip toes to pull the small curtains away to find a smiling morris on the other side of the glass. he was laying on his stomach so his head was level with the window.

you tried to contain laughter as you unlocked the window. “are you crazy?”

the window was far too small for him to climb in, so he just kept his head close to the opening as you looked up at him on top of the chair.

“i might be, but i’m just glad i finally found the right room. knocked on a few other windows, them ladies did not like me doin’ that.”

you giggled. “what are you even doing here? i told you to come for the show, not to my dressing room window.”

he shrugged before saying, “i wanted to wish you good luck, that’s all.”

you looked at him knowingly. you knew your boyfriend, and he didn’t go through all of this just to tell you about something you didn’t even really need.

“nice try. what’s the real reason you’re here?”

morris looked up, seemingly embarrassed. “where do i sit when the show starts?”

you paused. “i know sittin’ may be difficult for you, morris, but luckily for you there’s this new invention i think you’ll really love to try. it’s called a chair,” you said sarcastically.

he rolled his eyes playfully. “sweetheart, you know that’s not what i mean,” he said, his thick new york accent prominent. “where am i suppose’ to go? front row, back row, balcony? i don’t know how any of this stuff works.”

“as a matter of fact, i actually let miss medda know you were comin’ for the show, so she has a box reserved just for you.”

morris was reluctant to come at first, but now he was simply curious to discover what occupies so much of his girlfriend’s time. he wanted to make sure he could get the best view possible.

he put his head through the window, and you stood on your tip toes to meet him with a kiss. “i’ll see you after the show?”

he nodded. “of course. break a leg,” morris started, going to stand up but turning around to the window again. “but not actually. don’t actually break a leg, please.”

you laughed, holding his hand briefly through the window as he began to leave “i won’t!”

after he left, you finished getting your makeup on and got into your costume. every week, medda throws together a new theme for your performances, and this week she went with a forest theme. you were wearing all forest green costume that made you look like a fairy. your makeup fit the occasion too, and jack kelly’s painted props and artwork set the backdrop for your show.

about ten minutes before showtime, you stood backstage once the first act finished and your props were being moved behind the curtain that separated the stage from the audience.

your performances never lasted long; they were apart of some other, bigger show within the theater. but you drew in lots of crowds as you were becoming a household name. critics raved about your performances, and people came to medda’s theater specifically for you.

normally, you were a pro at keeping your nerves in line. the build up to the shows didn’t make you nervous anymore after weeks of doing it. but tonight, knowing morris was somewhere out there watching your every move made you immensely nervous. you weren’t just performing for a crowd tonight, that you could handle. you were performing for someone. your someone.

“miss Y/N, you’re shaking,” medda said behind you as she put her hands on your shoulders. you turned around; you were too in your mind to notice the shaking.

“sorry medda, just nervous, that’s all.”

you turned around to meet her, seeing a confused and unbelieving expression on her face. “you? nervous? i don’t believe it.”

you shrugged in response. she tilted her head, still questioning you, then you could tell her expression changed in an instant. “oh, i know why you’re nervous.”

you shook your head. “no you don’t.”

she smiled playfully, hitting your shoulder lightly. “oh yes i do. it’s because that delancey boy is out in the audience getting ready to watch you, isn’t it?”

you couldn’t hide the blush on your cheeks now. you didn’t even have to say anything; medda knew.

her tone changed, and she leaned in close. “don’t get distracted, kid. believe me, i’ve had my fair share of men in my life. but don’t let any man get in the way of you doing what you were born to do. you’re a natural at this, you have nothing to be nervous about.”

you took a deep breath. she was right. you knew exactly what you had to do. you nodded, and she backed away.

she smiled. “let’s get this show moving!”

medda walked out on stage in front of the curtain blocking the set, and that was your cue to get in your place on the props.

morris sat out in the audience, waiting anxiously for your presence on the stage. he had the perfect view from where he was at in the audience, and he held his breath waiting for the show to start. he couldn’t care less about the speech medda was planning before you went on, he just wanted to see you up there.

“i know many of you have come from far and wide to watch this next performer do what she does best. i would rave about her, but i’ll just let her dancing do the talking. up next to take my stage is the one and the only, Y/N L/N.”

medda bowed and walked off stage, and morris watched as the curtains fell away and he saw your figure in the darkness laid on a prop that was painted to look like a tree stump.

the lights came on, and the music began. morris watched as you slowly and gracefully worked around the prop, acting as a mythical creature in a forest. his eyes stayed locked on you, not entirely sure what he was watching, but enthralled nonetheless.

you stood on top of the tree stump, going up en pointe and holding your balance in an arabesque, your arms stretched out to your sides.

you glanced into the audience, still holding your balance, searching for morris. you couldn’t find him, but you ignored your heart thumping erratically in your chest as you brought your other leg down to leap off of the prop, sending your legs soaring out.

morris watched in awe in the audience. he liked to think of himself as tough as nails, and he frowned upon himself showing emotion. but, it was becoming harder and harder to uphold that facade as you continued moving around the stage. he knew you must have been talented to have your own show like this, but never in a million years would he have guessed you would be like this.

the turn sequences were your least favorite part of your shows. you were more of a jumper, you loved the feeling of soaring through the air. along with that, you were flexible, and you had tremendous balance for kicks. you were able to hold your leg impossibly high like it was nothing. but turns were a different story.

you began your prep, and as you did, you spotted morris in the audience, right in front of your vision. your heart began to race even more, and you saw as he smiled, knowing that you had just seen him.

in order to prevent yourself from getting dizzy, you used morris as your spot during your turns. you were turning fast, but as you kept your eyes locked on him, you were able to hold your balance en pointe. it felt like you and him were the only ones in that theater.

morris kept his eyes on you as you spun around and around on the very tops of your toes, a small gasp escaping his mouth. he had never seen anyone do something so quick and difficult while simultaneously having so much grace and fluidity.

after nailing the turns and flowing seamlessly out of them into the next section, you forced your eyes to pull away from his.

not only was morris awestruck by your movement, he was drawn into your storytelling. anyone in that room could see you were on an adventure through the forest, and he felt as if you were taking him along for the ride.

after what felt like hours but somehow not enough time, morris watched as you retreated to the back of the stage, hitting one last pose on the faux tree stump before the lights went dim.

the crowd immediately erupted as the curtains drew to a close, but morris stayed in place. he couldn’t quite process exactly what he just saw, but he was upset that it ended so soon. he could have watched you up there for hours.

when the curtains closed, you got off your prop and headed backstage as medda announced the last act of the night. another successful show, you thought to yourself.

as you sat backstage taking sips of water, you felt a presence behind you. before you could turn to see who it was, a voice spoke in your ear. “well if it ain’t the most talented girl i’ve ever seen.”

you stood up from your chair, seeing a smiling morris who had a singular rose in his hand. before you could jump into his arms and give him a bone crushing hug, he got to you first, wrapping his arms around your waist and picking you up off the ground.

“you were amazin’ out there, Y/N.”

you pulled away, the biggest grin you've ever had on your face. "you really think so?"

"i know so."

you rolled your eyes. "you're a big softie and you know it."

he smiled sarcastically, setting you back on the ground and lightly pinching your cheek. "any more of that and we're done, silly girl."

you giggled, and only then did you remember the single rose in his hand. morris looked down, almost as if he had forgotten about it too.

"oh, yeah, uh… this is for you. for being so beautiful up there," morris said, immediately getting shy. you bit your lip, holding back a giddy grin.

you stepped closer to him and stood en pointe to give him a kiss on the lips. "it's lovely, morris. where did you get it? you didn’t have that earlier," you asked, taking his hand in your free one.

"i took it from the bouquet that the guy sittin' next to me had."

you blinked at him before sighing. "of course you did."

#mike faist #mike faist imagine #mike faist x reader #mike faist fanfiction #newsies x reader #newsies imagine #morris delancey

[delulu-enough-for-you]

Cocky - Spot Conlon x Reader

Content: flirty fluff!

⚠️ Warnings: female pronouns used, Y/N used, spot being a dick, cursing, not proofread well

Author's note: fine men. thats all. Enjoy!!

_________________________________________

-Y/N's POV-

I had taken the younger newsies to the park and had just returned to see Spot sitting on my bed. I rolled my eyes and walked over to him, my light green dress between my fingers. "Spot!" I said. "What're you doing on my bed?"Just enjoyin' da view," he smirked. I frowned and crossed my arms. "You're still wearing your outdoor clothes. Why would you sit on my nice clean bed wearing them?" He just shrugged and smirked again. "I'on see a problem wit' it.' "Well, I do." I fired back. Spot just groaned and got up from his place on my sheets. "I'll leave, as long as I can sleep 'ere tonight. Mighty fine bed, mighty fine lady." Spot had a shit eating grin on his face. I looked him straight in the eye. "You. Fucking. Wish." I growled, smoothing out the space where he sat previously. He held his hands up in defense. "I'll be back after dinner. Hope the bed bugs don't bite. " He winked and walked out.

_________________________________________

Newsies headcannons, anyone? 🫣

_________________________________________

#spot conlon #newsies #spot x reader #spot conlon x reader #newsies imagines #newsies imagine #newsies x reader

[ssadumba55]

Masterlist: Archived Fandoms

All my writing for Hamilton, Sherlock, Harry Potter, Newsies, A Series of Unfortunate Events, 101 Dalmatian Street, Zootopia, Wall-E, Ratatouille, The Maze Runner, Descendants, Once Upon A Time, Hook, She-Ra, The Incredibles, My Little Pony: A New Generation, Wizards of Waverly Place and Captain Marvel will be linked here!

*I do NOT wish to receive further requests for these fandoms. They're archived for a reason, I'd like to leave these up for people in those fandoms to enjoy but I reserve the right to delete anything on here without warning

Imagines full on one shots with your favourite characters

HAMILTON THE MUSICAL

Thomas Jefferson Permission to Court? (Gender Neutral Reader)

King George I Missed You (Female Reader) Don't Need Riches (Gender Neutral Reader)

BBC SHERLOCK

John Watson Can't Sleep (Gender Neutral Reader)

Sherlock Holmes He's a Jerk (Gender Neutral Reader)

HARRY POTTER

Newt Scamander Awkward (Gender Neutral Reader)

Sirius Black Muggle (Gender Neutral Reader) Deal (Female Reader) Intimate (Female Reader) Try Again (Gender Neutral Reader) Reunion (FtM Reader)

Remus Lupin Girlfriend? (Female Reader)

Queenie Goldstein Lovely Thoughts (Female Reader)

Harry Potter Hogsmeade (Gender Neutral Reader)

A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS

Klaus Baudelaire Happy Birthday (Gender Neutral Reader) Alone (Gender Neutral Reader) Letters (Gender Neutral Reader) Jack London (Gender Neutral Reader) Yours (Gender Neutral Reader) Substitute (Gender Neutral Reader) Valentine (Gender Neutral Reader) Moving On (Female Reader) Not That Easy (Gender Neutral Reader) Bad Day (Gender Neutral Reader) Anniversary (Gender Neutral Reader)

Duncan Quagmire Christmas Party (Female Reader) Jealous (Female Reader)

Isadora Quagmire Special (Female Reader) The Ersatz Elevator (Female Reader)

Violet Baudelaire Falling for You (Female Reader)

Baudelaires Island Days (Gender Neutral Reader)

NEWSIES

Davey Jacobs First Kiss (Gender Neutral Reader)

101 DALMATIAN STREET

Doug Father's Day! (Gender Neutral Reader)

Delilah Sick Day (Gender Neutral Reader)

ZOOTOPIA

Judy Hopps What Parents Do (Gender Neutral Reader) Halloween's Scary (Gender Neutral Reader)

WALL-E

Wall-E Holidays (Gender Neutral Reader) Fourth of July (Gender Neutral Reader)

EVE Thunderstorms (Gender Neutral Reader)

Wall-E & EVE Robot Child (Gender Neutral Reader) Earth Day (Gender Neutral Reader)

THE MAZE RUNNER

Newt One Chance (Female Reader)

Minho Hopeless (Male Reader) Wherever, Whenever (Male Reader)

ONCE UPON A TIME

Jefferson Scar (Gender Neutral Reader)

Killian Jones Hooked On a Feeling (Gender Neutral Reader) Flower Shop (Male Reader)

HOOK

Rufio I Wish Pt. 1 (Female Reader) I Wish Pt. 2 (Female Reader)

SHE-RA AND THE PRINCESSES OF POWER

Scorpia Leaving (Gender Neutral Reader) Is This What Love Is? (Gender Neutral Reader)

WIZARDS OF WAVERLY PLACE

Justin Russo Third Chance (Gender Neutral Reader)

CAPTAIN MARVEL

Carol Danvers Don't Give Up (Gender Neutral Reader)

RATATOUILLE

Remy Halloween Dish (Gender Neutral Reader) Fancy Feast (Gender Neutral Reader)

Headcanons Headcanons related to these characters

Being Friends with Duncan Quagmire (Gender Neutral) Baudelaires and Quagmires React to you Saying you Love Them (Gender Neutral) Klaus Baudelaire with Secretly Soft Reader (Gender Neutral) Baudelaires & Quagmires React to Metalhead Reader (Gender Neutral) Playing Overcooked with Linguini and Colette (Female Reader) Dating Remy the Rat Would Include (Gender Neutral) Warning Linguini and Colette About a Leak (Female Reader) Linguini and Colette with Child! Reader (Gender Neutral) Being the Oldest Incredikid With No Powers (Gender Neutral) Reuniting with Twin Sister Catra (Gender Neutral) Being BFFs and Roommates with Adora (Gender Neutral) Dating Alphabittle Would Include (Gender Neutral) Harry Hook x LaBouff!Sparrow!Reader (Gender Neutral) Dunklaus Headcanons

#milo's masterlists #disney imagine #disney headcanons #asoue imagine #asoue headcanons #sherlock imagines #harry potter imagine #hamilton imagine #newsies imagine #wizards of waverly place imagine #my little pony imagine #she ra imagine #descendants imagine #harry hook x reader #ratatouille imagine #the incredibles imagine #male reader #female reader #gender neutral reader

[collecting-stories]

November 29 - Racetrack Higgins

Request: can I request a little racetrack or finch x fem!reader where she has press night for a broadway show they’re in (your choice!) and he is just admiring her, maybe with a little 62 and 80 from prompt list?

A/N: I decided to set this in 1899 instead of doing an AU so I changed the zipper line because zippers weren't used on clothing until 1925. The play is Ben Hur, which premiered on Broadway on November 29 1899 and was a massive success at the time.

Broadway Masterlist

✰✰✰✰

You didn’t want to admit it but you were terribly nervous. Katharine was there in the bustle of people and press who had the privilege of attending the show that evenings, a rather exclusive who’s who of New York City elite, and you felt out of place, even in your new dress. It was nicer than anything you’d ever worn before, the sort of thing meant to impress wealth and prestige and yet, it felt like it was suffocating you. 

As your co-star answered questions about the play you stood beside him, listening but hardly able to pay attention. While Katherine’s presence was reassuring, it didn’t quite provide the calm feeling that you were looking for. What you really wanted, as silly as it may have sounded to these people, was to be back at the boarding house with everyone. With nobody to impress, or at least with people who didn’t need you all dolled up in fancy clothes that felt like they were suffocating you, flashy red shoes and rogue on your cheeks. You just wanted to be back sitting on the rooftop with Racetrack, trying to stay cool in the summer and listening to all the sounds that threatened to keep you awake. 

Katherine called your name softly as she came up beside you, offering the sort of well-mannered greeting (a polite kiss to your left cheek and a reassuring hand on your wrist) that belonged in upper society circles. “Seems you have an admirer.” She teased and you finally looked away from all the stuffy jackets and skirts in the room. 

“What?”

“Look,” she instructed, nodding her head back so that you looked just beyond her shoulder. Standing there near the exit, in nicer clothes than you knew him to own, was Racetrack. Jack was standing with him, grinning at all the people hobnobbing their way about the lobby. Racetrack was looking right at you though, nothing seemed able to distract him as he stood there, grin on his face, watching you receiving praise from all the wealthy theatre goers of New York City. 

When he realized that Katherine had told you he was there, he waved and mouthed a silent ‘hello’ to him. You held your hand up just enough that he could tell you were waving back and then you pointed off to the side, nodding your head in the same direction just in case Racetrack didn’t get the message to meet you at the side door. He nodded. 

“You think anyone would mind if I sneak off?” You chanced asking Katherine, “just for a moment?” 

“I’ll cover for you, promise.” She replied. 

You snuck off as quietly as possible, weaving through the crowd and then slipping through the double doors into the theatre. You walked the empty aisle down to the stage, through the back and to the side door where Racetrack stood, already inside.

“You were supposed to wait for me to let you in.”

“Picked the lock,” he shrugged, smiling at you. There was a deep blush across his freckled cheeks as he stared at you, “you look beautiful, prettier than those Gibson girls.”

You couldn’t stop the smile on your face as you moved closer to him, taking his face in your hands and kissing him. You and Racetrack had been friends for as long as you had been living on the street and you had liked him just as long. You’d wasted money on dances before, gone along with friends who were looking for a more secure future than a newsie had the means to offer, but nothing had ever stuck. You loved Race and you knew you did and whether it was the way he was looking at you or the fact that all your nerves had been calmed at the sight of him or even just the knowledge that it was your name on the marquee outside tonight, you wanted to make sure that he knew how much you loved him. 

“Wow,” Racetrack looked a little dumbstruck when you pulled away, a dopey smile on his face, “thanks.”

“Thanks?” You nearly laughed, “...your welcome?”

“No I didn’t mean...I just meant...aw hell,” he shook his head before leaning forward initiating another kiss. 

You had a marquee with your name on it and hundreds of guests crowding into the theatre to see you but all that felt like second best to the feeling of kissing Racetrack. You felt like there were butterflies in your stomach as you leaned back against the dressing table that had been set up in the tiny closet of a room you’d been given backstage. Outside the closed door you could hear footsteps and voices, people bustling around now that the preshow cocktail hour was over. Soon you’d be expected, ready and in costume, to go onstage. 

“Racetrack,” you pushed gently at his chest, “Racetrack, I have to get ready.” 

He nodded his head in understanding, though he didn't look ready to let go of you just yet, "I know," he lamented. And then, leaning in again, "I know I've kissed you like ten times but just another ten please?"

Before you could protest, a knock on your door let you know that you were expected out on the side stage, ready for your entrance. "I have to go," you insisted, pulling away. This time he let you though you didn't get too far, turning your back to him and looking over your shoulder, "can you help me do up this dress? Since you've somehow managed to undo it." 

Racetrack smiled, holding up his hands and wiggling his fingers, "nimble fingers," he replied. He did up your dress though, the brightest smile on his face the entire time. "Beautiful."

You could feel your face warm at his compliment. Racetrack always knew how to give your butterflies in your stomach. "Wait until I'm gone," you asked, checking your makeup in the mirror behind him, "I don't need anyone thinking I'm a charity girl."

"That'll be comical...after tonight you'll be the one giving me gifts for favors." Race teased, laughing when you swatted at him, "you think they got a name for that? A bloke who gets gifts from his girl, instead a the other way 'round?"

"I'll see you after the show," you promised, opening the door just enough that you could sneak out of your dressing room and blowing him a kiss that he caught and pressed to his heart.      

#collecting stories imagine #racetrack x reader #racetrack imagine #racetrack higgins x reader #newsies imagine #newsies fanfiction #newsies fanfic #newsies oneshot

[princessrockclub]

newsies imagines

imagine; spot conlon having no idea who the FUCK you are because its the 1800's and you're nothing but a random person to him so he walks by you with nothing in mind

imagine; jack kelly is about to flirt with you so you can buy his papes, he taps your shoulder with a grin so wide, but as you turn around, his smile falters and he chokes

"Oh-erm sorry there...ise didn't mean tha' bother ya..." he said and then he awkwardly backed away from you. eventually running off at full speed.

imagine; best boy crutchie prepares his smile that 'spreads like buttah' only for you to end up seeing it and he immediately frowns.

imagine; race is offering you a cigar, you shake your head no, he shrugs and then lifts himself off the wall and leaves. he does not want to hang out with you.

imagine; albert seeing you on the ground, you're not hurt you're just lazy, he steps over you and keeps walking. he doesn't want to waste his strength on you.

im tired of bein a literal victoria secret model in newsies imagines or x readers, its time we look so fucking ugly

#its papin' time #newsies imagine

[rivthejellyfish]

Not Scared Anymore

Word count: 1685

Hurt/Comfort

Platonic!Newsies x reader

Navigation

_ _ _

  “Y/N! We’ve missed you, where’ve you been?” Y/N groaned internally. They had seen the Delancey twins this morning, and the day before, and the day before that, and every single time they say the same thing. The two knew it annoyed them, so they took advantage of it. Y/N turned away from the direction they were walking in, holding up a newspaper and calling out a fake headline. 

  “No need to be so cold, ya know,” Oscar said. Y/N continued to ignore them, not looking back at the two as an older man exchanged a paper for a penny. Y/N thanked him as he walked away and he only grunted in return.

  “Look at you go, selling those papes so quickly. We’re so proud of you.” One of the two put his hand on top of their head, shaking their hat around before taking it off and tossing it over to the other. Y/N sighed.

  “Just give me back my damn hat, Delancey,” They said once they had turned around. Morris shrugged, spinning the hat with his finger.

  “If ya want it back so bad, you’re gonna have to fight for it,” He said. The two brothers shared a laugh as Y/N tried to grab the hat, only for it to be tossed to the other.

  “You heard him, Y/N. Can’t make any exceptions, even for you,” Oscar said. Y/N huffed, turning around and walking away. They didn’t need their hat to sell the paper, they’d be just fine without it. And they did. They sold two papers in the next twenty minutes, glad to see the twins hadn’t followed them. However, the second they felt the relief, an annoying voice came from down the road.

  “Could you imagine walking away from a fight, Morris? I think that if someone does it says quite awful lot about them, what about you?”

  “Oh, I completely agree. I think it means that they’re a wimp, and they know they can’t win.” Y/N turned to tell them to screw off, only for Oscar to pull the papers out from underneath their arm and throw them to the side. They tried to go after them, but the two brothers blocked their path. Right as they exchanged a sinister glance, someone else butted in.

  “Delancey!” Jack called. The three looked over to see Jack storming over, David behind him with an obvious look of ‘I have to make sure he doesn’t kill anyone’. Further proving the theory of what the look meant, he grabbed Jack’s arm once they had got there and pulled him back slightly, not having the slightest trust in him. “Get the hell away from dem.” 

  “When will you learn to mind your own damn business, Kelly?” 

  “Once you two piss off.” Oscar scoffed, shaking his head. Morris rolled his eyes. He turned back to Y/N as Oscar started walking away.

  “Times gonna come when he doesn’t get here in time, and trust me when I say that both of us are looking forward to it.” He shoved the hat to Y/N’s chest, taking a final chance to glare at Jack before catching up with Oscar. As Y/N put the hat back on, Jack turned to David.

  “No, Jack.”

  “Yous saying those dicks don’t deserve it?”

  “I’m not-”

  “Let’s not argue about this,” Y/N spoke up before anything could escalate. Of course, it wouldn’t escalate too badly, but Y/N didn’t feel like hearing the two bitter back and forth while trying to sell the rest of their papers. They bent down, picking up the papers the Delancey’s had thrown to the ground. They groaned once realizing that none of the papers hadn’t fallen into the puddle, meaning they couldn’t sell any of them. No one wanted wet papers.

  “Dammit, Y/N, sorry we couldn’t get here any sooner,” Jack said as he and Davey helped pick up the soaking paper. Y/N shrugged.

  “It’s whatever. There’s always tomorrow.” Of course, both Jack and David knew that it wasn’t whatever, considering the money Y/N just lost and the small bit of dignity, but they didn’t say anything. The three walked back to the lodge house, Jack and Davey having already sold all their papers, throwing the wet papers away along the way. They walked in to see a few others had already returned, including Crutchie, Race, Specs, and Romeo. 

  “You three have already sold all your papers?” Jack said, skeptical of all of them aside from Crutchie. Race placed a hand over his heart, feigning hurt.

  “Course we did, Jack, what do yous think of us?”

  “I don’t think you’d want to hear that answer,” Crutchie said, laughing at Jack’s nod to agree with his statement.

  “Hey, Y/N, what is yous doing back so early? Thought you liked to go watch the fishes or something?” Specs asked.

  “Yeah, Y/N, what’s up?” Romeo asked, not seeing the glare that Jack had sent Specs. Race, however, did.

  “It was them Delancey’s again wasn’t it?” He said, standing up as he rolled up his sleeves. “Two need to learn a lesson.” David grabbed Race’s bicep as he walked by him.

  “Go sit down.” Race groaned, turning around.

  “This is why no one likes you, Davey,” Race said as he fell back into the chair.

  “That ain’t true!” Crutchie said. “I like you, Davey, you’re a cool guy.”

  “Ok, everyone shut up,” Y/N said, making sure not to look at Crutchie when she said it, considering it was directed towards everyone aside from him. “Yeah, I had a run-in with the Delancey's, wasn’t a big deal. Got out of it without a scratch, no need to make a big deal over it.”

  “Y/N, the only reason you did was because Davey and I showed up at the right time.” Before Y/N could protest, David had to interrupt.

  “He’s right, Y/N.” Y/N sent a glare toward David, who sent an apologetic look back.

  “Hows about we teach you some tricks to help yous out when those pricks are around, might help you out a bit?” Specs suggested. Race lit up at the idea.

  “Oh, please say yes, I’ve been dying for an excuse to beat Romeo’s ass after he stole my customers from me last week.”

  “I didn’t steal shit, you’re just a lousy newsie.”

  “Oh really? Y/N, watch this.”

  “Shut your traps, both of yous,” Jack interrupted. He turned to Y/N. “That ain’t too bad of an idea, though, you wanna try it?” Y/N shrugged.

  “Don’t got anything better to do.” The second after they said it, Race jumped onto Romeo, calling for Y/N to watch and see how it was done. Jack groaned, pulling Race back.

  “Dumbasses.”

—

  Y/N had finished selling their papers for the day, walking back to the lodge house to meet with Crutchie for a game of War. As they walked, they got the sense that someone was following them, but decided it’d be better to just ignore it. So they did. Until someone grabbed them by their arm, pulling them into one of the many alleyways in Manhattan. Y/N quickly regained their balance to turn to see the Delancey brothers standing there, smirks on their faces.

  “Think you’ve been avoiding us, haven’t you?” Morris said, stepping forward. Y/N rolled their eyes, going to push past the two. Right as they tried, a punch was given to their right cheek, leaving a stinging pain that Y/N could only assume was from the ring Oscar was wearing.

  “You don’t get to leave after you’ve been so disrespectful. It’s time for you to pay up.”

  “Look, I don’t want any trouble, ok? I just want to get back to the lodge house and go to sleep.”

  “Should’ve thought about that before you changed your selling spot without us knowing.” Before Y/N could respond, the two stepped forward, swinging hits at them as they backed up. Once they hit a wall, fear struck them knowing they had nowhere else to go. Another punch landed on their stomach as well as their jaw. They ducked down as the next one was sent their way, kicking Oscar in the stomach causing him to fall back. Morris tried to take the chance to grab Y/N’s leg, but Y/N lowered it quickly enough and pushed him away. Seeing as both of them were now on the ground, Y/N went to run away before they could get up. However, Oscar grabbed their foot, causing them to fall to the ground, scraping their knees and elbows. They flipped over onto their back, kicking back at Oscar as he tried to grab them again. They threw a punch at Morris, who hadn’t been expecting it, and he stumbled back. Getting back on their feet, Y/N turned and sprinted the next few blocks. They got to the lodge house, where Jack was outside. Jack saw them coming and his expression changed, turning away from David and coming over.

  “Hey, hey, what happened?” He said, putting his hands on their biceps. Y/N was breathing heavily, shaking their head. “Y/N, are you alright?” Y/N nodded, and it sounded as though they were crying. “Y/N, talk to us, come on.” Y/N looked up, showing the cuts on their face, along with a smile.

  “You should’ve been there!” Y/N exclaimed. Jack looked back at David, confused. “They had cornered me in an alley but I fought back! I kicked them and hit them and got away!” 

  “Are you talking about the Delancey’s?” David asked. Y/N nodded, jumping slightly at their excitement.

  “You should’ve seen their faces! They were so confused, they didn’t know what hit ‘em!” Jack chuckled.

  “Hell yeah, Y/N, wish I could see them now,” Jack said, smiling down at them.

  “Yeah, but are you ok, Y/N? You’re bleeding,” David said, reaching up to assess the cut on their cheek. Y/N rolled their eyes, pushing his hand away.

  “I’m fine, Davey, never been better!” 

  “How about we goes inside and tell everyone about how you beat their asses?” Jack said. Y/N nodded.

  “Hell yeah!” As Jack and Y/N turned and ran inside, David rolled his eyes, laughing himself before following behind them.

#jack kelly imagine #davey jacobs imagine #newsies broadway #jack kelly #david jacobs #jack kelly x reader #davey jacobs x reader #newsies imagine #newsies x reader

[blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms]

My Girl- Davey Jacobs

Pairing: Davey Jacobs x Reader

Characters: Davey Jacobs

Warnings: N/A

Request: N/A

Word Count: 675

Author: Charlotte

Meeting the parents seemed to be an important step in most people’s relationships but it was one that sent shudders of fear to your core. You had faced far more typically scary things but meeting Davey’s parents seemed to be the one thing that could practically bring you to tears. You understood why he wanted to introduce you to them but he could never understand why you feared the concept so much.

“I can’t,” you stated.

“They will love you,” he beamed, taking your hands within his.

You shook your head. “They ain’t gonna love me, Davey. I ain’t like you. They ain’t gonna want someone like me with you.”

He paused for a moment, not sue what you were talking about. He loved you and so did Les, so why wouldn’t his parents feel the same way about you?

“I’ve told them so much about you, they want to meet you,” he said, trying to reassure you.

“What’s you told them? I bet you didn’t mention I sleep with the rats, or ain’t seen my folks since I was Les’ age. Or hows about that I ain’t set foot in a school? They wants you to find a girl that can buy pretty dresses and talks all smart. That ain’t me.”

It had been something on your mind for so long. You had fallen for Davey as soon as you saw him but that didn’t mean you didn’t question how long this whole thing could last.

“You are smart Y/N, school doesn’t matter, and you know it. You are one of the smartest people I know.”

“Davey,” you sighed. “Think for a sec, hows long you gonna keep this up? Your dad will be back at work soon, then what? Yous ain’t gonna hang around if you don’t gotta. You don’t gotta sell papes and yous go back to school, then I’m just the newsie you once pitied. Hows we gonna last? You gonna be at your fancy school and I’m still here, selling papes for pennies and tryna not go to the refuge.”

For the first time you saw pain on Davey’s face. It hadn’t been something he had considered before. At first all he could think of was getting back into school and his life going back to normal but then he got to know you and the other newsies and the idea of not being part of your world disappeared from his mind and he hadn’t looked back.

“I don’t know,” he whispered. “But I don’t know if the strike is going to work; I don’t know if I’m going to make enough money selling papers to keep our house; I don’t know a lot of things but that’s doesn’t mean I’m not going to keep trying. It’s scary and we might both be here now but we have come from very different places but that doesn’t change the fact that I love you and as long as I love you then I don’t care what anyone thinks, not even my parents.”

A weak smile curled onto your lips. “You love me?”

Davey’s cheeks flushed red as he realised what he said. He had known that he loved you for a long time, but he had never thought that he could admit that to you.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

“I loves you too,” you smiled. “You really want to introduce me to your folks? I ain’t the kinda girl that boys want to introduce as theirs.”

Davey squeezed your hands tightly, raising them to press his lips to the reverse of them.

“You are the only girl I want to introduce to people as mine. I hope you will be the only girl that’s mine,” he said softly. “That’s if you want to keep on being my girl.”

You nodded your head. “I’ll always be ya girl, even if the dinner with ya folks goes badly.”

His expression instantly perked up. “So, you’ll come to the dinner.”

“If it’s what will make ya happy, then it’ll make me happy.”

#My Girl #Davey Jacobs #Davey Jacobs Imagine #Davey Jacobs One Shot #Newsies #Newsies One Shot #Newsies Imagine #Newsies The Musical #Newsies The Musical One Shot #Newsies The Musical Imagine #Charlotte

[crutchie-with-a-y]

A couple days late, BUT HAPPY 123RD ANNIVERSARY OF THE NEWSBOYS’ STRIKE OF 1899!!!

#newsies #newsies fandom #newsies fanfic #newsies fanfiction #newsies imagine #broadway #jack kelly #musicals #racetrack higgins #broadway musicals #newsies live #1992sies #race newsies #newsboy strike of 1899 #newsboy strike

[youaintnothinbuta]

Hi, love your writing

I would love to see more Jack Kelly images and little bulbs, fluff, smut literally anything.

Maybe one where reader and Jack just spent time cuddling in jacks penthouse, trying to hide from the other boys cus they keep tease them.

“they won't find us in here” — jack kelly x reader

Summary: you and Jack are hiding away in his room, trying to have a little cuddle, which the other boys always like to make the centre of their amusement

Pairing: jack kelly x fem!reader

Word count: 556

Warnings: none, fluff, maybe typos if so sorryyy <3

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The dingy light of the Lodging House barely reached Jack's room, casting a warm, golden glow on the worn-out furniture and scattered newspapers and clothes. You and Jack, seeking a quiet escape from the high energy of the other newsies, found solace in his bedroom. The laughter and banter of the other boys still echoed through the air, but Jack had expertly tucked the two of you away, hidden from their teasing eyes.

As you settled into the cozy space, Jack draped an extra blanket over his bed, creating a makeshift nest. The soft sounds of hushed laughter and the muffled chatter of the boys outside filtered through, creating a comforting background noise.

Jack motioned for you to join him on the bed. “They won't find us in here,” he whispered with a mischievous glint in his eyes. You couldn't help but giggle, realising the absurdity of the situation. "Is this really how much effort it takes, just for us to have some cuddle time?" you teased.

Jack chuckled, a sheepish grin playing on his lips. "I wouldn’t say this is a lot of effort- they're just nosy."

With a playful roll of your eyes, you nestled into the blankets beside him. Jack pulled you into a warm embrace, the scent of newsprint and a hint of cologne enveloping you. The soft touch of Jack's fingers traced patterns on your back, a rhythmic motion that seemed to synchronise with the beat of your hearts. “This is nice,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. You couldn't help but agree.

As you rested against him, the teasing banter of the boys outside became more audible. The distinctive voices of Race, Albert, and the others echoed in the hallway, their comments gradually becoming more pointed.

“Where's Jack?”

“Probably off being bottle fed!”

“Whispering sweet nothings I bet.”

“Can't believe he turns into a softie around a girl.”

Jack, his brows furrowing, shot you an apologetic look. “Sorry about them. They're relentless.”

You laughed. “Hey, I’m not the one they’re insulting. They just don't get to see this side of you often."

He smiled, the warmth in his eyes deepening. “You're right. It's our little secret.”

Jack's fingers idly played with a strand of your hair, continuing their gentle caress. The quietude of the room invited a sense of relaxation, your words slipped out almost as a murmur.

“You’re so comfy. I could just fall asleep.”

He grinned, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “You can do that, sweetheart.”

With a sigh of contentment, you allowed the gentle embrace of sleep to envelop you, feeling the rise and fall of Jack’s chest as he held you. Jack listened to the fading banter with a mix of amusement and exasperation. As the night unfolded, Jack carefully adjusted the blankets around you, ensuring your comfort. The usual mischievous glint in his eyes instead softened into a tender gaze as he watched you sleep peacefully.

The creak of the door signaled the return of the newsies, their laughter now reduced to tired murmurs. Jack, ever protective, shot a warning glance at the doorway, silently urging them to keep their distance. The boys, catching on to Jack’s mood, exchanged knowing looks and dispersed, respecting the unspoken boundary around Jack’s room. Eventually, he allowed himself to drift off to sleep too.

#newsies #newsies broadway #newsies jack kelly #jack kelly newsies #newsies imagine #racetrack newsies #race newsies #jack kelly #jeremy jordan newsies #jack kelly x reader #reader x jack kelly #jack kelly fluff #jack kelly x reader smut #jack kelly hcs #jack kelly headcanons #jack kelly smut #jeremy jordan jack kelly #racetrack x reader #newsies x reader #fluff

[auspicious-manner]

Can i request newsies era mike trying to cheer up the reader on a bad day?

a year ago today, i uploaded my very first story on tumblr :,) i’ve written on other platforms before, but when i made this account a year ago, i was hoping for a fresh start. i didn’t know if people would like my writing, but i told myself it was worth a shot. and it’s been so worth it.

to everyone who reads my stories, interacts with it, follows me, and sends in request, i thank you. i write for you guys, and knowing that i’ve made others happy is truly such a gift. in honor of my one year anniversary, enjoy this mike story! it seems only fitting that i upload a mike story exactly a year after i uploaded my first mike story 😁

also, i recently got a request for a taglist for my stories! if any of you want to be added to my taglist for any of my stories/fandoms, pls just let me know! i never thought that would be something people would be interested in, so i never proposed it before 😅

fem reader x mike faist

warnings: sickness, accidents

mike taglist: @diorgirl444

Unlucky

•

the universe was clearly against you. there could be no other explanation. every event leading up to the show on this particular day led you one step closer to full fledged insanity.

you and mike were in newsies on broadway at the same time. he was one of the delancey brothers, an understudy for jack, and a newsie. you were a bowery beauty, nun, and an understudy for katherine. given that you and mike were so close and had the same schedule, a month prior you two had decided to move in together.

mike was your comfort person. you weren’t dating, but you weren’t friends. you were somewhere in the middle with him, but the two of you had never actually talked out your feelings. you both seemed to be happy with where you were.

on the fateful morning, you woke up and immediately sat up in your bed. your throat was scratchy. you frowned, immediately thinking of the worst. you took a sip of water and the pain was worse. not only that, but you were shivering under the weight of three blankets and a hoodie, and you felt like your head was going to split open at any second.

you had a fever.

you laid back down, groaning. you had a show tonight, and it was an important show. you had friends and family from out of town coming to support you, and they had been planning this trip for weeks.

“mike!” you called out, your voice slightly hoarse. there was no reply.

“mike!” you yelled a bit louder, your hands immediately going to hold your throat from the pain.

finally, when he didn’t reply again, you rolled over to get your phone to call him. he answered, almost annoyed. “Y/N, what do you want?”

“where are you?” you asked.

“i ran out to the store.”

you coughed gently. “are you still there?”

“no, why?”

you sighed, closing your eyes. “i’m sick and i wanted some cold medicine.”

there was silence for a few moments. “oh, are you okay?” mike asked, his tone immediately switching from one of annoyance to one of genuine concern.

“i’m fine, i just need to get better before the show starts tonight,” you replied, putting a hand on your forehead. you were burning up.

mike sighed. “you shouldn’t go on tonight if you’re sick, Y/N. it’s not worth it.”

“my family and friends from home are coming tonight. i absolutely cannot miss this.”

mike paused, like he was thinking about what to do. “okay, fine, i’ll go back to the store and bring you home some medicine.”

“thanks mike, see you soon.”

you hung up the call and laid your phone on the nightstand by your bed. after another fifteen minutes of zoning out, you came to the conclusion that there was no use in laying around being miserable all day. you figured that if you got up and made yourself useful you’d feel better.

you gently sat up, and slowly moved to put your feet on the floor. the cold hardwood beneath your feet made you even colder than you already were. you walked to the kitchen, feeling more fatigued than you ever had before. even though you weren’t hungry, you got out the ingredients to make an omelet. you were so focused on your cooking skills that the rest of the world faded into silence, but it also could have been the fact that you couldn’t hear because your sinuses were clogged.

as you were flipping the omelet in the pan, you heard a loud “boo!” in your ear and someone gently shoving you. you gasped, accidentally touching the side of the burning pan with your fingers. you yelped in pain and threw the pan back down on the stove, turning around to see mike with a grin on his face. however, the grin quickly faded when he saw not only your burnt fingers but also how sickly and pale you looked.

“mike, what the hell?” you croaked, holding your fingers as you walked to the freezer to grab some ice. it felt like the tips of your fingers had burned off.

mike put down his plastic grocery bag on the counter. “dammit, Y/N, i’m sorry. i didn’t realize you were this bad,” he said sadly.

you rolled your eyes, the coldness of the ice counteracting the burns on your fingers. “did you think i was kidding about being sick?”

“no, i just didn’t know you felt that terrible,” he paused. “are you sure you can perform tonight?”

you nodded. “i can’t miss it.”

mike gave you a look like he didn’t believe you, and that he didn’t like your stubborn decision. you both went silent before mike stepped closer to you, glancing at your burnt fingers. “now i feel bad for scaring you.”

you couldn’t help but crack a smile at mike. even though he scared you and caused you to burn three fingers, he always knew how to make you smile. “you should feel bad. my fingertips are in pain.”

you finished making your omelet and took some of the medicine mike had brought home. you planned to take some more medicine shortly before the show.

after the cold medicine kicked in and your fever was suppressed, you actually felt relatively okay. in order to convince yourself that you were better, you agreed to go to the park with mike for some fresh air.

walking around central park with mike was good for your soul. you loved the fresh air and the nature of it all, but having mike by your side made it so much better. as often as he got on your nerves, he was your best friend. he made you giddy and excited, and every time he complimented you after a show it would make you nervous and give you butterflies. he knew it did too, thats why he kept doing it; he liked making you flustered.

you layered on jackets in the brisk autumn air, as you still had a leftover chill in your body from your sickness.

“how are you feeling? better?” mike asked as you both walked.

“yeah, a lot better, but i know when that medicine wears off i’m going to feel like crap again. and wrapping my fingertips has made them feel a little bit better,” you said, glancing at your fingers that were wrapped in a thin layer of gauze and medical tape.

“is there anything i can do? you know, to help?”

you smiled to yourself. “no, mike, thank you though,” you said quietly and sweetly. “having you here is enough.”

mike blushed lightly, putting an arm lazily around your shoulders. “stop being so sappy.”

you continued like that for a while longer, with you under his arm enjoying the park around you. not long later, mike told you he was going to run to the bathroom, and you told him you’d wait by a tree for him.

as you waited, you people watched everyone around you. you thought about how everyone there had their own stories. their own lives. just as you were sick and preparing to perform in front of your closest friends and family for the first time, these other people had their own life problems to attend to, and no one would be the wiser. it was oddly peaceful knowing that there are so many stories being written around you.

suddenly, you were pulled out of your daydream by a soccer ball being kicked into the side of your head. you may have been people watching, but the kids playing with the ball seemed to come out of nowhere for you.

you held the side of your head and groaned as the sound of small footsteps approached you. “sorry, miss,” a little boy’s voice said as he grabbed the ball and ran back to his friends.

not long later, mike came back and saw you sitting against the tree, rubbing the side of your head.

“are you okay?” mike asked, reaching down to help you stand.

“some little brats kicked a soccer ball at my head,” you groaned. standing up made you feel a bit dizzy.

mike gently brushed the part of your head that was hit, and you winced. “god, Y/N, today is just not your day. that’s definitely going to bruise, let’s get you home.”

you walked back to your apartment together, and rested until it was time to head to the theater. you packed a backpack with everything you might need and you and mike headed off to the subway station.

as you boarded the subway, you tripped over a small ledge on the edge of the subway and began to fall, but luckily, mike was in front of you and you caught yourself on his back. you hoped no one noticed, but as you looked around, the people already sitting down were staring, and an old man snickered at your misfortune.

mike maneuvered himself so he was behind you, guiding you to an open spot. “what was that about?”

you were on the verge of tears. “i’m so unlucky today.”

mike hesitated before grabbing your hand and squeezing it tight. “hey, just think, tonight is going to be a great show, you have family and friends in the audience,” mike said close to your ear. “soon enough, everything that’s happened today won’t matter.”

you nodded. “i just hope the show goes well.”

you both arrived at the theater, checking yourselves in and preparing to head to your separate dressing rooms. before you parted ways, mike pulled you aside and brushed a strand of hair out of your face with his fingers. he could tell you were nervous.

“you’ll be just fine, Y/N. i’ll see you soon.”

in your dressing room, you unraveled the bandages over your fingers, and the skin was raw and tender. you weren’t exactly sure how to cover it for the show, but you dabbed some skin colored makeup onto it in hopes that it would be unnoticeable.

you looked at yourself in the mirror; you really did seem out of it. your head hurt, you fingers hurt, and your cold medicine was beginning to wear off. you reached into your backpack to find the medicine and you took it, hoping for some type of relief.

not long before the show started, you warmed up your voice as you got your costume on. there was a knock at the door and you yelled “come in!” to whoever it was. the door swung open and you found mike in his newsie/delancey costume and makeup. you always thought he looked so good in his costumes.

“how are you feeling?” mike asked, walking up to you. you were in your nun costume, so you didn’t seem as flattering as you would have liked.

“well, my fingers are sore, my head hurts, and my ego is bruised from almost falling earlier. but at least my medicine is working,” you said sarcastically. you tried to play it off as something funny, but inside you were a nervous, painful wreck. you were trying to fake it ‘til you made it, but mike saw right through you.

his blue eyes softened, and he rubbed your shoulders comfortingly. “i know you’re nervous, and i know you are having a rough day. but breathe, and stay focused. you’re the most talented person i know. you can get through this.”

you closed your eyes and breathed out. he instantly made you feel better. the cold medicine helped to an extent, but mike was your ultimate cure for all ailments.

“will i see you after the show?” you asked. a lot of times, mike was able to leave the theater earlier than you after the show, and more often than not, you liked to chat with everyone and stick around for longer. you didn’t mind that mike never seemed to hang around much after the show.

“you’ve got friends and family to see, so i’ll probably head home right after. is that okay?” he asked gently, like he didn’t want to be the next thing to set you off.

you nodded understandingly. “of course, mike. i’ll see you during the show.”

mike smiled and patted your shoulder before heading out.

the show began, and you waited in the wings for your first scene. your first scene was during carrying the banner, where the three nuns feed the newsie boys.

as you went out on stage, your mind seemed to be in a blur. you felt like you couldn’t concentrate. the goal was for muscle memory to kick in, and you didn’t have to worry about anything. sadly, it didn’t, and during your part of carrying the banner, your voice cracked due to your sickness, and it felt sharp and out of place against the angelic voices of the other nuns.

your eyes widened, and you prayed nobody heard it despite it being insanely obvious. you fought the urge to cry onstage.

at the end of that segment, you headed off the stage and had no time to think about your mistake before hurriedly getting into your bowery beauty costume. you wanted to go home. you wanted to be with mike. at this point, you didn’t even care to see your friends and family from out of town. there was only one person that mattered.

you got into costume and looked at yourself in the mirror. you tried to pull yourself together, since you had friends and family in the audience that undoubtedly saw your screw up. you had to bring it back.

as your time approached for the scene in medda’s theater, you waited in the wings, trying to calm yourself down. you tried your hardest to ignore the pain on your head and your fingers.

finally, it was time to go onstage, and everything was going just fine. you didn’t want to get too confident, however, because you had a feeling if you did it would all come crashing down again.

you got through your bowery beauty scene in one piece, with no mishaps. you were feeling better mentally and physically.

you waited in your dressing room for curtain call, and as you walked out on stage to take your bow, you raised your arm and smiled into the crowd. as you brought your arm down to bow, your arm hit the back of your wig, and it slid down over your head. you quickly and nervously attempted to cover your mistake, and you slid the wig back up before walking to the back of the stage.

that seemed to be the last straw for you. a stray tear escaped your eye and you hoped no one saw. this was the worst day possible. you had friends and family in the audience and you wanted everything to be perfect, but it was far from it. you felt like crap, your head and fingers ached, and you were embarrassed. as you watched mike take his bow on stage, you wanted nothing more than to be comforted by him. you needed him by your side.

however, nothing was ever that easy, and you still had to get out of makeup and costume and talk with the people that came to see you all while holding back the tears that were inevitably going to come out.

you took off your costume as fast as possible, avoiding conversations with your other cast mates at all costs. there was only one that you needed.

you met your friends and family by the stage door, and they congratulated you on your performance despite it being subpar. you tried to keep the conversations to the minimum. when you finally felt like you were on the verge of a full fledged breakdown, you excused yourself, telling them you were tired and needed to go home. you thanked them for coming before turning to the direction of the station and never looking back.

on your ride home, you kept your mind free of thoughts in order to keep the intrusive ones away. you knew if you kept thinking about what went wrong, you’d go crazy.

finally, at last, you arrived at your apartment and unlocked the door. mike was sitting on the couch, practically ready to doze off.

“mike, you could have gone to bed,” you said quietly.

he stared at you like that was a dumb thing to even consider. “i was waiting for you to get home.”

at that moment, you felt your heart melt. throughout everything that had happened, mike was your one constant. he was the calm within the storm of events that unfolded throughout the day.

you broke down, and began to cry. mike sat up on the couch and held out his arms. “oh, sweetheart, come here.”

you obliged, and sat down on the couch next to him. almost instinctively, you leaned into his body, resting your head on his chest. he wrapped both of his arms around you comfortingly, and he placed his hand on the side of your head. as you laid in his arms, you just cried.

“i wanted everything to be perfect today. first i got sick, then i burnt myself, then i hit my head, and then i tripped on the subway,” you swallowed, trying to talk clearly despite the tears. “a-and the one thing i could control, the one thing i could save, i fumbled. i messed up twice on stage.”

mike rubbed your head gently. “i know, Y/N, i’m sorry. i know how important this was. if it makes you feel any better, i barely noticed your mistakes.”

“i-i’m not sure how,” you said, sniffling. “they were pretty bad. i’m just…embarrassed.”

mike sat up, causing you to come with him. part of you was sad that you had to leave the comfy position you were in. mike looked into your eyes briefly before lightly placing his hands on either side of your face.

“Y/N, we’re performers. we make mistakes. trust me, there’s so many people even in our company that have made worse mistakes. take me, for example,” mike started, breaking eye contact briefly. “remember when i got my leg stuck in a chair during king of new york?”

you giggled. “y-yeah, i do. you turned so red.”

mike smiled. “there’s that signature Y/N smile again.”

you blushed, and mike used his thumbs to brush away stray tears. he removed his hands from your face and held your hands. “we all have off days. you’re the strongest person i know, and you got through today like a champ. you may not be happy with yourself, but i’m always proud of you, mistakes and all. do you understand?”

when you looked down, you noticed he was rubbing the tops of your hands with his thumbs. “yeah, mike. thank you, genuinely. if it weren’t for your help today, i probably would have exploded.”

mike grinned, and you went back to your position on the couch in his arms. to you, it felt like nothing mattered and nothing would matter ever again. all you could see in that moment was you and him.

mike laughed. “if it weren’t for me, your fingers wouldn’t be sore right now.”

#mike faist #mike faist imagine #mike faist x reader #mike faist fanfiction #mike faist riff #newsies imagine #newsies

[miryum]

Okay I had an idea for a Spot Conlon x reader!!

Passing out outside his door after getting soaked, Spot finding the reader and taking them inside his room to take care of her.

She/They pronouns of you don’t mind!!

Spot Conlon was anything if not intelligent. He had risen through Brooklyn not only on account of his strength, but his smarts. He had his smarts with him when he became the King of Brooklyn. He had his smarts with him when he upped his paper buying- buying and selling a hundred and fifty papes instead of only one hundred. He had his smarts with him when he beat up the Delancey brothers for harassing one of his newsies.  

However, he may not have had his smarts with him when he agreed to join Jack Kelly’s strike and he definitely didn’t have his smarts with him when he carried in an unconscious girl that appeared on the Lodging House doorstep. 

“Spot?” Knicks ran up to him. “We have a situation- wait. You have something bigger going on.” Knicks noticed the girl in Spot’s arms. “Who’s that?” 

“I don’t know.” Spot pushed past Knicks and the small crowd of newsies that had begun to form. 

“What are you doing? How’d they’d get here? Do you know where Vinny’s hat is?” Knicks started questioning Spot. 

Spot groaned at the boy’s questions and started towards the stairs. “I’m bringing her up to my room to take care of her. I don’t know. I found her on the doorstep. As you can see, she’s beaten up pretty badly. And no, I haven’t seen Vinny’s hat.”

Spot was right. The girl in his arms had been soaked and looked pretty rough. She had a black eye that was a nasty black, purple, and blue. On the other side of their face, another bruise was creeping up their cheekbone. Her lip was split and had a smattering of other cuts and blemishes on their face.

Before Knicks could ask anymore questions, Spot quickly sidestepped him and hurried to his room.

Spot set the teenager down and before exiting the room. He wanted to grab some things to clean them up. Maybe some bandages or ointment? Truth be told, Spot was better at soaking someone than healing them. 

Once he got back with his half-hazard supplies, he found the person sitting up on their elbows. 

“Hello?” Spot looked at her sceptically. Should he trust this random person? 

“Who are you?” The girl asked, trying to sit up further. 

Spot shook his head and said, “Lay back down. What happened to you?” 

“Answer my question.” 

Spot raised an eyebrow. No one ever talked back to him. But, this kid didn’t know he was the King of Brooklyn. He could cut them some slack. “I’m Spot Conlon, newsie, and King of Brooklyn.” 

The girl’s eyes narrowed but she laid down as Spot had asked. “I’m Y/n. I-uh.” They cleared their throat, “The Delancey Brothers got to me. They thought I was stealing something.” 

“Were you stealing something?” Spot asked in a deadpan voice. He wouldn’t be surprised if this dirty street-rat needed to steal to stay alive. He wasn’t about to diss on it, though. He knew all too well about life on the streets. He started cleaning the girl up. 

“Yes.” Y/n admitted. She pulled out a policeman’s whistle, a proud glint in her eye. “It just looked so shiny and I thought I could get some good money for it.” She then squinted at Spot who was cleaning some cuts on her arm, careful for her fresh bruises. “Why’d you take me in? I know newsies are all about loyalty and crap, but I’m not a newsie.” 

Spot huffed a laugh, “Just ‘cause you’re not a newsie doesn’t mean I’d leave you out there. That’s cruel.” 

“You were still taking a gamble. I could knock you out and steal from you right now.” 

This time, Spot laughed for real. “Yeah, sure sweetheart. You could beat me in a fight. And, I don’t know… there was just something about you? I couldn’t imagine you doing anything terrible… Sounds stupid. I know.” 

Y/n hummed. “Alright, Spot Conlon. I trust you.” 

They went to stand but Spot pushed them back down. “That was a bad soaking. You were unconscious. I’m not about to let you waltz out here.” 

Y/n glared at him, “I can take care of myself.”

“From what I just saw, no you can’t.” Spot contradicted. “You’re staying here until you get better.” 

Y/n leaned back on Spot's bed, arms crossed. “Then I guess you’re stuck with me, Spot Conlon.” 

Spot grinned, “I guess I am.”

#spotconlon #spot conlon #spotxreader #spot #spot conlon x reader #newsie #newsies movie #newsies musical #newsboys #brooklyn #brooklyn’s hereeeee #x reader #she/they #jack kelly #crutchie morris #davey jacobs #racetrack higgins #spot conlon imagine #spot conlon oneshot #newsies imagine #newsies #newsies oneshot #new york #delancey brothers #strike #1899 #strike 1899

[delulu-enough-for-you]

So I was watching Newsies, and all I could think of was:

Race: I'm the king of New York!

Diner staff: what the fuck-

#newsies #newsies 1992 #newsies broadway #racetrack higgins #mush #jack kelly #jack kelly x reader #newsies imagine

[newsiesimagines]

Newsies Imagines #2

#newsies #newsies imagines #newsies imagine #newsies 1992 #92sies #Racetrack Higgins

[wdwmarveldisney]

Newsies imagine the reader is an artist and the Newsies find all of their art work of themselves and love the reader's work and what she did for them but having more drawings of Crutchie.

Perfect

Crutchie x reader

Summary: You get something amazing from something as annoying as your privacy violated.

Masterlist

A/N: Okay so, I don’t think there’s any hint to reader’s gender and this has not been proofread so I do sincerely apologise in advance but nevertheless, for my first time writing for Crutchie, I loved it.

GIF isn’t mine

You had made friends with the newsies at a young age. You had worked at a factory at first when you were little and a small boy with a crutch used to wave at you everyday at the end of the day. Sometimes he'd have a friend by his side, counting what they had made that day but that didn't stop his small wave. It was you who initiated any kind of talk, saving up so you didn't feel bad about buying a paper after work one day. Not too long after your first encounter with him did you end up finding him one of your closest friends. Then after some unfortunate incident, the factory closed and you were sent to the streets to find work. Immediately Crutchie offered a helping hand into the business of Newsies.

You knew a few from selling with Crutchie and others in passing but there were a few who you’d yet to see. Meeting them was nerve racking after hearing Crutchie go into unreal details about them being his family. You were a little afraid to admit that your friendship with Crutchie had only worked a kindling for set your crush on him ablaze.

It wasn’t long until you fit right in and eventually, you were in a situation where you were living with them. You’d scored a top bunk over one of the younger newsies but every now and then you’d join Jack and Crutchie on the roof. Jack was your best friend. He loved art too, he was always up for a joke, he was kind and caring and he was the only one to clue in on your crush on Crutchie which lead to various teasing comments and stupid dares to ask him out. Usually your response was between a ‘I’m not eight’ and ‘You’se mental’ to which he’d always agree.

Tonight was one of your nights up on the roof, new sketchbook in your lap as you used Jack’s charcoals he’d leant you while you waited for the two boys. There was a commotion from the bunks but that wasn’t out of the blue so you fixated on the current work you were doing. Was it another piece of Crutchie? Yes. Was it really your fault that he was so interesting to draw? Absolutely not. You were about to start on his hair when the commotion got louder and Jack’s booming voice was trying to quieten them down with some speak on privacy. Curiosity got the better of you and you snuck down to see what ridiculous fight was happening now only for your jaw to drop at what was being passed around.

See, you knew that under one of the loose floorboards by your bed wasn’t the best hiding spot for your three full sketchbooks but there wasn’t many other places and you couldn’t find it in you to look for another one. Now your laziness was backfiring as they were being passed around spoke about whilst Jack stopped his speech on respecting boundaries to instead admire a drawing of himself. Crutchie seemed to be the only one who wouldn’t look as he kept saying you hadn’t said they could do they shouldn’t. Your heart swelled, pathetically, and you shoved that feeling away to instead cough to make your presence known. A silence fell over the boys but Jack was quick to talk, “See, what did I tell you’se that these are private-”

All the boys erupted into shouts over one another before silencing at your voice. “Oh, save it Kelly,” you quipped, making him pause before he shrugged and fixed his hat. He took a step back and all the boys broke out into apologies, Race being the only one quiet which was weird because usually you could hear his voice the clearest. You saw Albert shoving the boy who simply glared at him before turning to you, “Why’s are all of these Crutchie?” The boy in question blushed as a heat burned your cheeks and you dived forward to snatch the books. An ‘oooo’ sounded before Jack was shooing them all away and nodding for you to go to the roof before doing the same with Crutchie. Various shouts of, “Thanks for the portrait’ and ‘You’se really good at drawing’ filled the room just before the cold air hit you and you were climbing up the rusty metal to the roof space.

Crutchie followed right behind and you almost walked straight into him as you paced, rushed apologies leaving both of you. It was quiet for a beat and then you couldn’t take it, “I’m sorry, I know it’s probably really weird that I just have a bunch of drawing of you but I swear, it’s just that you’re… interesting to dra- okay that sounds creepier then it did in my head but I mean-” You shut up when his laugh met your ears and his hand was resting over yours that held onto your sketchbook like a lifeline. You stared his crinkled eyes and blinding smile and if it was possible, you think you may have just fallen in love with the boy.

He couldn’t stop smiling apparently, looking at you suddenly sheepishly as he said, “Can I’se look at them?” You froze, mouth agape as you tried to find some sort of composure, the only thing happening being a small nod. You passed the sketchbooks over, falling to sit next to him when he decided to sit in the poorly made up bed of his. He didn’t skip the few pages in between of the others and instead admired every piece he could. The compliments didn’t stop to the point you thought your heart might burst and that heat that invaded your cheeks actually began to make you sweat. He looked so perfect, he was so perfect.

He finished going through one book as you took a deep breath and before he could open the next one, you jumped in, “Um, I’se actually started this other one. I haven’t finished it yet though and it’s not that great but, um, yeah,” he still had the look in his eyes, the amazement he stared at the drawing with now settled on you with another glint in his eyes. It hit you like a bus, breathing suddenly becoming a luxury. “Can I still see?” Crutchie asked and something about his demeanour reminded you of a small kid finding more presents under the Christmas tree. It made your heart swell again and you quickly scrambled to reach for your newest sketch book just a little bit away. You opened it to the page at the back that you had started on for no particular reason whatsoever, showing him the half finished charcoal piece.

Crutchie grinned impossibly wide, “I didn’t know you’se could do this. They’s amazing,” you wrapped your arms around your knees, bashful smile on your lips as your love struck gaze stayed fixed on him and only him. Fixing your hat, you eyes the way he couldn’t stop admiring it. Clearing your throat, you brought his attention back to you and you quickly avoided his gaze. Settling on picking at the ends of your trousers, you asked the question that had began to eat away at you, “You’se, er, you’se don’t think it’s weird or nothing, right?” You glanced up as he frantically shook his head, sketchbook moving to the floor as he kept that impossibly large grin, “No, no. I’se think that, maybe, it means you sees me the way I sees you,”

“Oh,” the boy you loved just hinted at liking you and you say ‘oh’? Really? Mentally kicking yourself, everything in you froze as he held your hand and you struggled to choke a breath when your eyes met. “Can, um, how,” you couldn’t help but mumble nonsense as you tried to find some logic in the chaos in your head. Your voice was nowhere above a whisper and your breath hitched when you realised you speaking had brought his attention to your lips. Now both of you were awkward messes before he seemed to find a surge of confidence and pressed his lips gently to yours.

God, okay, okay. He was kissing you and you were kissing back, that’s a good start. If you knew kissing him would feel this amazing, you’d have shown him those drawings ages ago. It was soft, sweet. He was gentle and slow and yeah, maybe neither of you knew what you were doing but you were definitely loving every second of it. When he finally pulled away, you felt yourself chasing his lips before he laughed. Your eyes finally fluttered open to see his stupidly cute face still so close.

Yeah, no, this was perfect.

#newsies x reader #newsies imagine #crutchie newsies #crutchie imagine #newsies #musical

[rivthejellyfish]

Other Masterlist

Navigation

❤ fluff 🔵 angst 🟪 hurt/comfort 🔸other

Newsies

Not Scared Anymore ❤

Teen Wolf

I Love You, Stiles, Even If I Can't See You Or Admit It 🟪

All Because of a Game of Twister 🟪

#newsies x reader #newsies masterlist #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf masterlist #teen wolf imagine #newsies imagine #rivwrites