#racetrack x reader

[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

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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

[amoreva]

SPIDERS AND THREAD

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pairing: racetrack higgins x reader

summary: race has been flaking on dates more and more. you think he’s cheating until he shows up bloody, bruises and in a hero costume, one evening.

warnings: blood, cursing, description of stitching

a/n: ending is a little meh and i couldn’t think of a title. i’ll try to revise it later.

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Race is rushing to your table from the restaurant, tugging on his jacket in a hurry. Your head titled in slight confusion.

“Race…?”

Race snapped his head towards you. The apology written all over his face masking the urgency. “My uh…mom called.” Race explained hurriedly. “She—fell down the stairs and I gotta go to—”

He’s been doing this often, but you shouldn’t throw out accusations. Just be a supportive girlfriend. “Hey, hey—I get it. Make sure she’s okay.” You spoke sympathetically. Your hand on his arm rubbing it comfortingly.

Race gave you a weary smile. He hates leaving you early on dates especially when you look so pretty in your outfit. He felt terribly guilty. You got dolled up for him and he had to go…

“I love you.” Race kissed you quickly and ran out of the restaurant.

Does he though?

You’re sitting at your desk, mindlessly moving the swivel chair side to side. Thoughts running through your head. The events of the day replaying itself out. You were supposed to be studying for your test, but…you can’t help but think about the date.

It’s not the first time Race ended a date early because something important came up. The first time it happened was because Albert was throwing up a lot. Then it was Jack needed him ASAP for a project and so on.

You’ve seen this happen to one of your friends; literally watched the events unfold before you. Your friend’s girlfriend kept canceling dates or leaving earlier because of something that came up. Turns out the girl was hooking up with some other guy behind your friend’s back.

Race wouldn’t do that, right? The sweet, charming guy that brings you little trinkets that remind him of you? No way in hell would Race cheat.

You scoffed just thinking about Race hooking up with another person. So, you rationalized these thoughts, it was late and you were thinking about this too much, overthinking it. Your mind is just making up stuff to keep you awake to study for your exam next week. That’s right.

Suddenly, a quiet creaking from your window grabbed your attention. Your curtains had been closed since you’ve got home from the spoiled date. You grab the nearest blunt object to throw. The dark figure on the other side of the window, slid it open.

A soft groan escaped the figure. It never occurred to you it could be your roommate. Your sleep-deprived, adrenaline filled brain screamed at you, “Robber, thief, murderer, stranger danger—!”

So, you threw your blunt object as soon as you caught sight of a head. A small yelp escaped your lips. You prayed to whoever you wouldn’t die tonight. You haven’t even finished re-watching Superstore yet.

The figure tumbled into your apartment, catching the object without even looking. “Get out, get out, get out!” You shouted and threw one of your textbooks at the person like they were a bug on the walls.

The figure caught it again and quickly put their free hand up. “Hey, hey! I’m not going to hurt ya’!” The figure stated quickly as they saw you holding a second book. “Please, stop throwing things.” You shrunk behind the book you held like a scared child.

“Who—?” You asked nervously. Intricate details of webs on the costume. Red and blue colors. A spider sewn onto the chest. It is a dead give-away. One of their hands was pressed against his abdomen. Blood oozing out, soiling their costume. Holy fuck. Why was Spiderman in your room? How did he even get here? Did he just stumble upon your apartment? Oh god, and he is hurt.

“What—?” Before you can even ask a question, Spiderman tugged off his mask. Soft blonde curls damp with sweat. Blue eyes filled with exhaustion and affliction. A sheepish smile on his lips.

“Suprise.” Race said dryly.

He thought it’d be better for you to know now instead of later and…he doesn’t think he can catch another book.

“Oh my god—Race!” You launch out of your desk chair to the blonde. Panic running through your veins, your hands cupping his face like he’s fragile. Then it clicks, you realize it isn’t anyone’s blood and wounds, it is Race’s. Race is hurt—how can he just…how?

Your boyfriend. The man who can’t stand spiders, especially daddy long legs, is Spiderman. Spiderman. The fucking vigilante swinging around New York. Is this why he ends dates early? Because he is Spiderman?

You don’t want to believe it, but Race is right here in front of you. Your blue-eyed lover subconsciously leaned into your warm touch. “M’okay.” Race mumbled and kissed the palm of your hand. The comfort of your touch distracting him from the pain. “Just…need your help patching up.”

You went into overdrive. The information you learned was overwhelming. How long has he been doing this? How bad are his injuries? Will he be okay? There are so many risks to this. Spiderman? How can he do what he does?

Your hands were too afraid to touch his upper body as you looked over him. “God…oh—how did..? You’re bleeding a lot…and you look so tired and….how bad is—? I don’t know what to do—! Fuck…you’re bleeding a lot. That wound is huge and—”

“Hey, sweetheart.” Race grabbed your attention from your stupor with the nickname. “Calm down. I’ll walk you through everything. Can you help me to the bathroom?”

Your eyes soften, but his words don’t reassure you. “Mhm.” You pressed your lips together, the worry evident in your eyes as you helped Race to the bathroom. He leaned against the counter.

The first aid kit is under the sink. Race is peeling off the top half of his suit. A wince escaped him as the spandex stuck to his large gash. He ripped it away like a bandaid causing you to cringe. There is dried blood, sweat and dust all over his toned body—which you will not admit you stared at a little too long.

“I would’ve done this myself, but—it hurt to swing any more. I mean, it felt like my body was being torn apart.” He softly said, trying to decrease the situation on why he was here in this getup. A soft blush on his face. It is clear he still felt bad about earlier that evening.

Only a man like Race would blush when he has a gaping wound in his side. “I don’t need your excuses—I just need to help patch you up.” Your eyes hardening after you take a shaky exhale.

Questions and thoughts racing (hah.) your mind. Was this convenient or was this pity for earlier? This is kind of ridiculous—you were dating Spiderman. Race is Spiderman. He could’ve told you—said something so you wouldn’t think the worst of the worst. So you could help him from hurting himself further.

“Okay.” Race nodded slowly. He noticed your snappy comments. He masked the worry and guilt. “Douse a rag in rubbing alcohol and—gently clean my wound, please.”

Race walked you through the steps of how to clean a wound. Your boyfriend had bit into a rolled up hand towel to muffle his agony. Tears brimming his eyes at the stinging. Luckily, the bleeding stopped. It looked slightly less gross than it did before, and it was done quickly.

Your annoyance, anger dissipates for a moment. You look at your boyfriend who removed the hand towel from his mouth. “I—I don’t know how to stitch.”

Race nodded, his head glistening with sweat from the enduring the pain. “You know how to sew though. Just—sew.” He mumbled.

“Race…that—that’s not the same, I can’t just—why don’t we go to an actual hospital? They know better than you or I.” You tried to rationalize.

“Can’t.” Race shook his head, looking at you with half-lidded eyes. “I can’t—my blood work and genetics are fucked—please, sweetheart.”

Race begged softly. It seem the blood loss got to him. “I need you to do it. Please. I trust you. Please.”

You grabbed his hand, rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand. “Okay…” You say almost inaudibly. Race brings your hand to his lips, a silent thank you. Just like before, Race has a rag in his mouth. Hand gripping your shoulder. His eyes closed shut as your dominant hand delicately holding a needle. The other was on his side. Race shivered at your touch. “Don’t move to much, okay?”

Race hummed in agreement. You pressed the needle to one end of the wound and punctuate the flesh. Race’s hand gripped your shoulder tightly, muffled sounds of pain escape him. You try to get this done quickly. In and out, through and through.

And pull.

You watch the wound close up together seamlessly. It sealed like a piece of cloth and look up at your tired boyfriend. His head immediately falls on your shoulder. “Thank you, sweetheart.” He whispered and kissed your neck once or twice.

Your eyes soften. You take Race’s face in your hands and bring his head in front of you. Lip quivering now that you finished stitching up your boyfriend. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I—”

“Race, you’re Spiderman—and I didn’t know! You made me think—think that…” Your voice is shaky, overwhelmed with a number of emotions. Race is Spiderman—he could die at any point.“you were cheating—what if you didn’t come back from fighting a villain? I don’t want to go to a funeral. I can’t—not when it’s the love of my life.”

“Oh, Y/N…” Race hugged you tightly despite the pain blooming in his side. “I’m not going anywhere, or dying—god, I wouldn’t even think of cheating on you, y’know that?”

A few moments of silence.

“Help me.” He mumbled and put his arm over your shoulder. The two of you exit the bathroom. Race was doing a little bit better than before, but you still had to support his weight. You both sit on the bed, Race taking your hands.

“I wanted to tell you, more than anything in the world, but—” He paused. “But…I couldn’t let you get hurt or worse for knowing about me.”

His voice cracked slightly. “If—if you got killed because of me…I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. I just—and what if you thought I was a freak. I—I can climb of walls for fucks sake and have a sixth sense—” All of the thoughts that kept him up at night spilling out.

“Race—you’re a superhero, shut up.” You stated bluntly. Sometimes Race just needed to hear things as is. You grabbed some joggers he left here and gave it to him. You were no longer anger or afraid, just tired. So tired.

A soft sight escaped you. “You’re tired, I’m tried—this conversation should be for tomorrow.”

Race’s lips parted slightly to retaliate, but a wave of exhaustion hits him. He changed into the grey joggers and got into your bed. You gravitate towards his body heat and bury your head into the crook of his neck. “My boyfriend is a goddamn superhero.” It sounded more in awe. You leaned up to kiss his lips. Race kissed back with a little more passion than intended. Race and you fall asleep in each others arms, knowing—

—at least for tonight, that everything will be okay.

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#newsies #uksies #racetrack higgins x reader #race x reader #racetrack x reader #racetrack newsies #race higgins #racetrack higgins #newsies x reader #newsies broadway #newsies fanfic #spiderman au #spiderman

[sl-newsie]

Teach Me To Love Hate You (Race x Fem Jet OC, enemies to lovers)

Here I am to request again! (*insert evil laugh*) So Race is doing so bad in school that he has to get a tutor. The problem is he gets stuck with this posh Jet girl and they absolutely hate each other. Tutoring is a mess. But one night when Race goes out to play cards against the Jets he’s playing against her, but she’s all dressed up! Turns out she’s a card shark, and wins by flirting with her opponent to get in their head. Her strategy works, and by the end of the night they're practically dating.

Davey’s POV

“Another F, Mr. Higgins.”

Our math teacher, Mr. Johnson, hands the man sitting in front of me his test. No surprise that Race failed considering he spends all his time goofing off. I’ll admit since I’ve met Jack and his gang I myself have relaxed a bit but not too much to have my perfect grades drop.

“Very impressive, Mr. Jacobs.”

I’m handed my own test, which I passed with flying colors. The bell rings and signals for us to head home.

“Go ahead, Davey,” Race groans. “Rub your perfect score in my face. I hate school!”

I gather my things and sling my bag over my shoulder. “I know book smarts aren’t your thing. Um, have you maybe considered being tutored?”

Race huffs and pulls out his cigar to stick in his mouth. “No way! I’ll keep my own perfect score of failing before I team up with one-a those bookworms-”

“Well that’s too bad, Mr. Higgins.” Mr Johnson approaches us. “Your failing grades have led the school to force me to assign you a tutor. You are to stay after school every weekday until 5. You will continue this until your grades improve.” The teacher gestures to the door. “Your tutor is waiting for you in room 215.”

I can’t believe it. Neither can Race.

“Are you serious? God, outta all things…”

The flustered student gets up and struts out of the room, causing me to rush after him.

“Maybe it won’t be so bad? It’s only-”

“Dave, of course it’s gonna be bad! I’ll barely miss the card tournaments at 6!” We reach the end of the hall where room 215 is. “I’m gonna be locked up with some ugly stiff trying to teach the unteachable-!”

“You must be Anthony Higgins,” a woman’s voice speaks as the classroom door opens.

Race rolls his eyes. “Yeah, that’s- Holy Jesus!”

Amanda’s POV

This is what I get? This is what I get for keeping good grades? Being forced to tutor someone? Mrs. Smith informed me this morning that I’ve been assigned to tutor someone all because I’m one of the top students. I don’t even go to Manhattan High! I’m only here for the math class! Sadly West Side High doesn’t have any higher up math classes, so I have to commute to ‘Hattan. 

I take a deep breath as I wait in the empty classroom. Just get through it one day at a time. The sooner you help him improve the sooner this headache will be over. The sound of approaching chatter alerts me to the door. Putting on a perky face, I walk over and open it. Outside I recognize Davey from math club, and the other must be the student I’m supposed to meet.

“You must be Anthony Higgins.” 

The man in question rolls his eyes and turns to me. “Yeah, that’s- Holy Jesus!” His jaw drops and I swear he’s having a stroke.

Davey waves a hand in front of him. “Um, Race? You ok?”

The blonde boy nods slowly, still gaping at me. I feel my patience slipping. Ugh. I am not staying after school to be ogled!

I grip the man’s shirt and drag him inside. “Thanks for dropping him off, David. I’ve got my work cut out. See you tomorrow!”

“Bye, Amanda!” The kind Jacobs man waves and shuts the door.

Race is still quiet. I steer him to a chair and push him down to sit. “Listen up, Higgins. We both don’t wanna be here. So let me make this perfectly clear: pay attention and smarten up!”

Higgins shakes himself awake and gets a lopsided grin. “Well hello, doll. Y’know friends call me Race-”

“I’m not your friend. I’m your tutor.”

My firm tone turns Race’s grin to a scowl. “Don’t remind me. I don’t think I’ve met you. I’dve remembered your lovely attitude.”

I stiffly take out some worksheets and slap them on the desk. “You’ve got some nerve, Higgins. I’m from West Side High.”

He snickers. “Ah, one-a Lorton’s gals. That’s where the attitude comes from!”

I roll my eyes. “Riff’s just a good friend. That also means that you shouldn’t try anything, understand? Just do these worksheets and we can be done for today. My whole life doesn’t revolve around school, and unlike you I actually have plans that don’t involve goofing off.”

“Well,” Race says cockily. “Since neither of us wanna suffer through this, whaddya say you lets me go early?”

That little-! That’s it. No more playing nice. I stiffly walk over to the door and lock it. It’s against school policy but I don’t care at this point. This cheeky moron is not gonna pin me for some softie!

“Hey! Why’d you-?”

I steer Race back into his seat with a firm hold. “Worksheets. Now! Before I really give you something to stress over!”

He’s shaken but still tries to keep confident. “Like what? The heartthrob you’s give’n me?”

“Like a black eye, dumbass! Now get to work!”

Race’s POV

God must have a sense-a humor ‘cause that tutor session felt like it took fifty years! It don’t help that my tutor is a stuck-up goody-goody. Jeez, for a moment I thought she was cute. I didn’t even get her name.

“Ey, Racer. Ya with us?” Jack asks.

“Um- Yeah. Just think’n,” I mudda as we enter the Jets’ hideout. 

“You? Thinking?” Albert laughs. “Never thought I’d see the day! What’s got you so worked up?”

“He has to be tutored now,” Davey explains from behind.

I roll my eyes. “Gee, thanks Davey! Why not announce my failure to the whole woild, why dontcha?”

“Don’t feel too bad, Race,” Crutchy tries to comfort me. “It took me a while to understand math too.”

“What I don’t get is how are ya so bad at math when ya count cards like a madman?” Spot grunts. “You’s bedda not get us kicked out.”

This week’s card tournament is be’n held in the West Side. I ain’t too noivous ‘cause Riff’s always too busy boast’n ‘bout his new construction job to play the game. That and Baby John’s poker face ain’t worth dirt. I can see through him like glass. So far the turn up looks pretty bland. Maybe folks is get’n tired-a losing? Where’s the competition?

“Evening gents,” Riff greets us as we gather ‘round the table. “We’s just wait’n on a few more players, then we’ll start.”

“Is Bernardo coming?” Davey asks.

The Jet leader smirks. “Wouldn't you wanna know, Mouth? Expecting Liliana to show?”

David blushes and looks away. Sure, he gets a pretty goil tonight. Of all people I expected Davey Jacobs to be the last guy to find a date.

“What about Mouthpiece?” I ask. “Can’t a guy see his own brodda?”

Riff shakes his head. “Bernardo called to say he can’t make it either. Only Baby John and Amanda are left to show.”

“Besides, one Higgins is enough to handle,” Jack groans. “We don’t need the matching pair.”

I’d hoid of Baby John before but the odda name ain’t familiar. With my luck it’ll be some ditzy dame who don’t know a spade from a shovel-

“Well well, hello again, mister Higgins.”

Amanda’s POV

“Are you kidding me?” I gape as I peer through the window. 

“What’s wrong?” Baby John asks from behind.

“Race is here, that’s what! That ding-dong plays cards here?”

“Actually he ain’t no ding-dong,” Baby John points out. “Race is one-a the best players in New York.”

I snort. “If he’s so smart, why do I gotta be forced to teach him basic algebra?” Perhaps that’s a question no one can answer. “Don’t matter. He’ll bend either way.”

“Gonna lay on the shark charm?” John questions with an arched brow.

“Ya bet.” I don’t always play by the rules. My secret is that after school I play tournaments as a card shark by flirting with players. Some frown at it but I’m proud of my acting skills. Plus any little money I can make goes towards helping my parents.

Baby John goes ahead and sits next to Riff at the table while I stand behind Race. 

“Well well, hello again, mister Higgins.”

The man’s head jerks up and he spins around to look at me with surprised eyes. It’s as if he can’t decide that I’m real. He looks between me and Riff with a stunned expression.

“Amanda, I see you know Race,” the Jet assumes.

My lips press into a firm line. “Yeah. Through tutoring. Now since we’s not at school can we actually have fun and play some cards?”

The oddas just shrug and begin to assemble the deck, while Race looks at me like he just won the lottery.

“Amanda, is it? Golly, I’ve never pinned you for a card gal!”

“There’s many things you’d be surprised by,” I say in a sultry voice. My suave charm automatically draws Race in and I see him starting to lose his senses. 

“Th- That’s some getup you’ve got on, sweetheart,” he mumbles.

His compliment is refreshing. Usually guys just eat my appearance right up with no thought-a be’n nice. Tonight’s outfit is a polka dot cocktail dress with a sweetheart neckline paired with simple red heels. I may be a card shark but I still got my dignity.

“Thank you,” I say whole-heartedly, but then regain my attitude. “I was starting to think ya couldn’t use that mouth for anything odda than back-sassing. Ready to lose?”

Race stares for a second then turns back to start gathering his delt hand. I decide to sit next to him for a better shot of distracting him. If I can get the oh-so-great Racetrack Higgins to falter at cards then I’ll have really set a record. Tonight’s game is Hearts and fortunately my hand is halfway decent. Lotta high cards plus the queen-a spades. Just enough to turn the tables and give everyone 26 points.

“You’ve been taking a lotta hearts,” Race says after a while, then says in a lower tone: “Wanna bet that you’d steal mine as well?”

Ha! He’s trying to play a card shark at her own game! This is too funny.

I pull on my best flirting smile and bat my eyelashes. “You tell me, handsome.”

That did it. Race’s face goes beet red and he goes back to staring at his cards. A few more hands go by and I continue to keep the lead. Luckily the oddas are too consumed by conversation to notice, all except Race. But for good measure to keep him distracted I slide my leg over to brush against his. This gets him shaking and all but hot and bothered. It’s working, but then why does a part-a me feel guilty? It ain’t a question that Race is a jerk sometimes but he’s still kinda handsome- No. I have a job to do. There's no holding back.

“Last hand. Who’s got the queen?” Davey asks as we all turn in our final card.

My smirk outshines all their oblivious faces. “I do!”

Jack chuckles. “You lose, Amanda.”

“Actually…” I fan out all the hearts I’ve collected. “I win!”

Everyone takes a double-take and groans. Another victory!

“Alright, you know the rules,” Riff grunts. “Pay up.”

The guys grudgingly take out their contribution and toss it onto the table. Maybe now I can afford to buy mom some good kitchen knives.

“Good job, Amanda.” Leave it to Crutchy to be the pro at sportsmanship. “You’re almost better than Race!”

“He’s right,” Spot agrees. “Hear that, Higgins? Ya got competition!”

The man in question has a stern look on his face. Instead-a answering he abruptly gets up and sulks down the hall to the bathroom. Sore loser. Can’t he take one defeat without holding a grudge? 

“We’s gonna head back,” Jack calls. “Send Race over once he’s done.”

The ‘Hattan fellas make their way out, leaving me with Spot ‘nd the Jets. Soon enough they too walk out and leave me alone to count up my winnings. After a few moments I hear footsteps and turn to see Race fuming with what looks like anger.

“You got spunk, sweetheart,” he remarks slyly. “Not many dames can get into my head the way you do.” All of a sudden he struts forward and leans me back to lay against the table. “Almost makes me wanna soak ya for that, but then that’d be wasting that pretty face-a yours.”

How is he so strong? Also why are his eyes suddenly quite catching-? Ugh! Get a grip, Amanda! Just take the money and go.

“You’re lucky Riff ain’t here right now,” I growl. “Oddawise you’d be talking through a mouth with no teeth for saying that.”

Race scoffs. “You batted your eyes at me, sweetheart. What’s your angle?”

“It’s part of the game! Jeez Higgins, you’re so used to card tournaments I thought you’d already know what a card shark is!”

“So instead of being one-a Bernardo’s sharks, you’re an actual shark?” Race dramatically clutches his chest. “That hurts. That hurts deep, sweetheart.”

I hiss in frustration. “Stop calling me that!”

“Why? ‘Cause every odda bum ya flirt with calls you that? Just how many guys have ya swindled to give you cash?”

In a fleeting moment of anger I slap Race across the face. “I ain’t your usual lady of the night, Higgins! For your information, every cent I earn through card games goes to my folks! Unlike you I use my skills to help people instead of boasting ‘bout it like a spoiled brat!”

Race blanks for a second but is still angry. “Boasting? I ain’t the one boasting, sweetheart. I’ll admit my skills is good but it’s Jack ‘nd the oddas that boast ‘bout it!”

“Then why do you suck at math?” I jab. 

“Maybe it’s the same reason why a clean-cut goil like you is a card shark,” Race replies. “I gots bedda things to do.”

“That don’t mean ya should throw your education in the trash!” I argue.

“I ain’t as smart as you, sweetheart. I know when to admit I’m no good.” 

Race suddenly gets a saddened look and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel bad. It ain’t his fault he’s not book smart but that don’t mean he’s useless.

“You still don’t get it, Higgins. Life’s more than just academics. But you still gotta put up with the tough stuff.” I loosen up a little and put a hand on his shoulder. “If you’re willing to cooperate, I could still tutor ya.”

Race laughs. “Ha! That’s a good one, sweetheart. Going soft on me?”

That son of a-! “Alright, fine! Go and fail math for all I care!” I lean forward and shove him against the wall. “To think I actually felt sorry for you, you snarky, hot, cocky-!”

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Race’s face lights up. “Lay that on me again?”

“I was an idiot to think you’re a decent human being-! Ah!”

The blue-eyed man tilts over and plants a kiss on my lips. In my shocked state I don’t know whether to pound him or kiss him back. The gesture melts away my anger in pure ecstasy. God, what’s this guy doing to me?!

“You think I’m hot, sweetheart?” Race gets a cheeky smile. “Can’t say I ain’t flattered. You’s a scrumptious catch too.”

My face twitches as I try to form a rebuttal. “I- I… I-!”

“Well, whaddya know! I got the card shark speechless!” Race softly places his own hand on my shoulder. “I say we’d make a great pair, hm? Before we kill each odda, whaddya say to a milkshake at Doc’s?”

He’s got me hook, line, and sinker. As a card shark I’m not supposed to fall for anyone I play- where did I go wrong? Race is a pain! Yet still kinda cute… Ugh! Why does luv gotta be so complicated?!

“I- I ain’t good with luv, Race,” I mutter. “The only hearts I’ve been dealt with are cards. I ain’t a normal date.”

No matter how hard I wanna look away, Race’s eyes still capture me in a helpless trance. I’ve been disassembled from a cunning card shark into a pathetic mess. All I can do is stare as the man runs a hand softly across my cheek and looks down at me with kind eyes; a completely opposite demeanor than 10 minutes ago.

“I don’t want a normal date, Amanda. A normal date picks at my habits and says I gots a gambling problem.” Race bumps his nose on mine. “You wouldn’t say that, wouldya?”

My breath hitches. “No, you- you’re amazing at cards. Anybody who says oddawise is a joker.”

Now Race’s face is mere inches from mine. “Still up for a date?”

A sassy grin spreads on my lips. “Think ya can handle me, Higgins? I am still your tutor, after all.”

He rolls his eyes. “Just lemme kiss you, ya mouthy tutor.”

And I do. Over and over and over, Race kisses up and down. All talk-a math and school drips away and I give in to this new-found feeling. 

“Never thought I’d fall for a bookworm,” Race mumbles between kisses.

I lightly smack his shoulder. “Remember this ‘bookworm’ just schooled you in Hearts, Higgins. You lost, remember?”

Race chuckles. “Yeah. Lost my own heart to you too, sweetheart.”

Tonight really was a successful game after all.

#newsies #newsies 1992 #newsies musical #newsies broadway #jack kelly #david jacobs #spot conlon #racetrack higgins #les jacobs #albert newsies #mush newsies #crutchy newsies #race x reader #racetrack x reader #racetrack newsies #riff lorton #riff west side story #west side story baby john #west side story mouthpiece #bernardo west side story #davey jacobs #newsies fanfiction #newsies x reader #west side story jets #west side story 2021

[lovingmusicalmen]

Racetrack Higgins with "You look adorable when you smile" ?

Guys... I love Race - I also lowkey wanna turn this into a full one shot... lmk if you guys would wanna read that!

Still accepting blurb requests!

Fluff 15 - "You look adorable when you smile"

Mouse was... an enigma, to say the least.

When she had first arrived at the lodging house, bruises decorating her skin, she hadn't said a word to anyone for several weeks.

Hence the nickname.

Despite this, many of the newsies had taken a shine to her. Specs had immediately adopted her as a selling partner, Albert would drag her to the edge of the lodging house and she would listen to him ramble about who-knows-what when his brain was going to quick, Crutchie would ask her to help him on days where his leg acted up and Jack would invite her to join him at Meddas for company as he painted.

She was a newsie. There was no doubt about it.

But Race had never heard her laugh. Even in the more recent days where she had begun to talk to him, quiet, shy words, bashful jokes and whispered reassurances that made Race's heart ache, he had ever seen her so much as crack a smile.

There was a sadness in her eyes that Race recognised from the mirror. From the faces of the other newsies, his other friends. Only, for Mouse, it never left her.

Lately, though, Race had been making it his personal mission to change that. He would go out of his way to spend time with her - he forgone his pack of cigars to instead pay for some extra food to give to her, he lent her his newsboy cap and had been spending days trying to convince her to leave Specs to join him in Sheepshead selling for a day.

And at nights, when he would hear quiet sniffles from her bunk, which was situated beside his, he would join her. He'd wrap his arms as tightly around her as he could and rock her gently, whispering quiet stories of the antics he and his friends had gotten up to before she had joined the lodging house.

And Mouse would cling onto him, as though he was the only thing anchoring her in that moment. And Race's chest would burn with the need to tell her he loved her.

"You're staring," Mouse said in a low, quiet voice. Race just grinned at her, tugging off his hat and placing it onto her head, and readjusting his grip on his bag of newspapers.

Mouse rolled her eyes, but Race saw the gleam of amusement in them.

"Can hardly blame me for that, pretty girl," Race teased, and he placed a hand on her elbow to steer her carefully out of the way of the oncoming crowds. He was used to the rush of people on his walk over to Brooklyn, but the same could not be said for his selling partner for the day.

"Y/N," Mouse said after a moment. Her voice barely audible.

"What?" Race asked, frowning a little, dropping his hand down to link their fingers together. He told himself it was to stop them from getting separated in the swarms of businessmen, but the flutter in his chest when she squeezed his hand in response begged to differ.

"My name - it's Y/N," she clarified, her voice no louder than before. Race stopped, pulling her over to the edge of the street, raising his eyebrows at her. "You told me yours," she whispered, looking suddenly shy at the mention of the previous night, where they had been up late, and Race had whispered his own given name to her.

"Pretty name for a pretty girl," Race said. He paused before adding: "Y/N."

For the first time, Race saw the girl's lips turn up a little at the corners. Her eyes crinkled at the edges and she bit her lip, reaching up to readjust Race's cap so it no longer covered her eyes.

"You look adorable when you smile," Race told her, not really thinking through his words before he said them. But then Y/N was meeting his eyes again, and he knew it was worth the mild embarrassment of his slip of the tongue to see her smile break properly across her face.

"Thank you," she whispered. Race ducked down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"Come on, Mouse - we've got papes to sell."

#racetrack x reader #race higgins #racetrack higgins #racetrack newsies #racetrack fanfiction #newsies #newsies fanfiction #newsies fic #newsies x 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

[toecheesitz]

ok — i’m looking for another fanfic.

I’m looking for a specific fic but if you have any Racetrack x reader Newsies fics from 2018-2019 pls share them and i’ll love you forever.

Ok — so the fic was y/n was having a panic attack or smthing and Jack comes in to help them but it’s not working. So he’s like “someone get Race” and Race drops what he’s doing and runs in to help the reader.

Please and thank you <3

#x reader #fanfiction #lost fic #please help #help lol #newsies #newsies x reader #Racetrack #race higgins #racetrack higgins #racetrack x reader #racetrack higgins x reader #race higgins x reader #imagine #racetrack imagine #newsies imagines #newsies headcanons #help finding a fic

[randoofan0m]

so im rewatching Newsies (17) for the 143rd time this month and why did I never notice during King of New York whenever Kathrin did the split leg thingie Race/Ben grabbed his nuts like it hurt him physically

#newsies #newsies live #jack kelly #spot conlon #racetrack newsies #racetrack higgins #racetrack x reader

[mikefaistenthusiast]

skimmed not proofread. 1.9k words of dumb

It’s hard not to look at him as he passes you in the hall. He’s explaining something to Albert who’s absentmindedly listening to his enthusiastic ramblings. You grab your books and audibly slam your locker shut, making Katherine jump. She had been retelling the story of her recruitment in the school newspaper. 

“Kath, I love you and I know you’re excited, and I'm excited for you, but it’s literally the 6th time I’ve heard this story.” 

She pulled you to biology, Mr. Seitz’s classroom. You sighed and your eyes moved to your seat, groaning internally. Romeo had tried to ask you out 3 times already. Of course Katherine saved you every time, but it was still dreaded. He had probably come up with a new way to ask you out considering the smile he was sporting.

Katherine shot you an apologetic look, meaning she’d likely been fed information about Romeo’s proposal by Sarah, whose brother was friends with Romeo and about every other quote on quote, “popular”  kid in the school.

Romeo waved you over, and you begrudgingly took your seat.

“Hello hello beautiful!” 

“Hi, Romeo.” 

He was trying to pass you notes throughout the lesson. He noticed you just ignored the notes so, eventually he just passed you a piece of gum with his number written on it.

“Look Romeo, I’m really sorry. You’re nice but I’m just not really interested.” you whispered to him. 

This was going to be an awkward class period. 

He walked in, eyes twinkling with mischief. 

“Sorry Seitz.” 

He walked in confident, yet slow, strides presumably to annoy Seitz. He stuck out the yellow slip in his hand and did some odd handshake with Jack when walking up to his seat.

“Trouble with Principal Pulitzer again Racer?” Finch questions, you’re idly eavesdropping nearby.

“You know it! Detention for two weeks.”

“You know that means no track, right?” Albert asks.

“Couldn’t play anyways. Failing Seitz’s class. May as well give myself time to do the assignments” He shrugged.

Katherine sighs at the sight of you.

“What sounds good for lunch?” 

“Not really hungry yet. Ask me after Bunsen's class and I’ll let you know.”

Katherine was the type of girl to plan ahead, too far ahead for it only being second period. She accepted your answer and left for her journalism class. You however, left for Bunsen’s. 

His class was more torture than Seitz’s was. 

Math.

The dreaded subject. Sarah’s brother, Davey, smiled at you when you walked in and waved you over. You had talked to him a few times, but usually kept closer to Sarah.

“Hi?”

“Hey, Sarah said you forgot this at her locker?” 

You most definitely had not been to Sarah’s locker, not today at least, but you recognized the book. You thought you had lost it on the bleachers.

“Thanks David.” you said, promptly turning around to find a seat in the back. The best part about Bunsen is his lack of assigned seating. There were two empty seats, one next to “Finch” Cortez, who seemed nice enough but you’d never had a conversation with, the other one was in the corner. You chose the corner seat.

Of course, Race strutted in late. He made a show of it too, as usual.

Spotting Finch, with Albert to his left, he chose the seat by you. His two best friends were sitting right there. It had nothing to do with you, but you couldn’t help the warm feeling that bubbled in your chest, especially when he greeted you. 

“Hi.” you said back, and that was that. You did notice the whispers between Finch and Race, before you finally heard an “ask her! maybe she has one!” from Finch.

“Hi uh.. Y/n, do you have a pencil?“ 

“Yeah just let me grab it.” You pulled a nice mechanical pencil out of your bag and leaned over to hand it to him.

“I’ll give it back after class, thanks.”

“You can keep it.” 

“Oh, uh, thanks Y/n” 

“Yeah, ‘course.” you smiled at him. 

Race immediately beamed back at you, his blue eyes sparkled a bit. 

“See Racer! That wasn’t so hard.” Albert ‘whispered’ to make fun of Race. He just rolled his eyes and went back to listening to Bunsen ramble. 

——

Romeo didn’t try to ask you out in bio today. You walked in, he waved. 

“Hi Romeo.” 

“Hi Y/n!” 

He didn’t bother you today, instead he just talked to you and asked about the material. It was nice.

He even explained some odd thing Seitz had said and cracked a joke, a good one. 

“You just put it in here..” Seitz explained but Romeo turned to you and grinned.

“That’s what she said.” 

You immediately started laughing, got a look from other students, and a warning from Seitz. 

——

Math had instantly become more interesting. There were no assigned seats, but the back row was always reserved for the same people. Especially your four spots. You in the corner, then Race, Finch, then Albert. One day, some girl tried to sit next to Race before you came in. He was very flustered and didn’t know how to ask her how to move, but eventually he said, “Hey, my friend was going to sit there.. Do you mind moving?”

He kept convincing himself he was going to ask you out. 

She just smiled at him and moved a few rows down. 

Finch patted him on the back, and you walked in right after she moved. 

“Er.. Do you have any gum?” 

“Sure.” You grabbed out a pack and handed it to him. He took a piece and handed it back.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, ‘course.” 

Finch and Albert audibly groaned

—

He kept insisting today was the day. Instead, he needed homework answers.

“Do you have yesterday's homework?”

“Yeah, here.” You said, grabbing a neat paper out of your binder and sliding it on his desk.

“Thank you so much!”

“Yeah, ‘course.” 

It was getting increasingly more unbearable for Finch and Albert to watch Race pine but do nothing about it. Even Davey had joined in on encouraging him. 

—

“Hey Y/n?”

“Yes Kath?”

“I have a favor to ask you..” 

“Okay?” 

“Will you come with me to the track meet tonight? Jack asked me to come and..”

“Sure.” You said, knowing how it was with Jack. A bit complicated, but they were basically dating. Plus, Race would be there because detention had ended, and he told you (very proudly) that he had a B+ in Seitz’s now. 

Katherine half expected you to not show up, but when you did she waved you up to her spot on the bleachers. On the field Race’s face visibly changed, he had a look of slight shock.

He didn’t know you were going to be here! Why were you here? He didn’t invite you, not to be rude, he just didn’t want to screw up in front of you. 

“Guess this means you’ll just have to do extra good!” Jack smirked from behind him.

“Definitely. Do your best Racer.” Finch smiled sweetly, but it was all an illusion. He was in on it, Albert and JoJo were in on it. Hell, even Katherine was probably in on it. 

Race groaned.

“You guys are the worst.”

“There’s no getting rid of us. We’re inevitable pal.” Davey adds, giving Race an encouraging pat on the back.

“Y’know Racer,” Crutchie starts, “If you just asked her out we wouldn’t be makin’ your life a living hell.”

“You don’t think I know that?” He sighed.

——

“When I first met you, I didn’t know if you got your name from your mouth or from track. Now I’m pretty sure it’s the track thing.” You smirked at him.

“You’d be correct. Fancy seeing you here.” 

“Katherine wanted me here, she came for Jack.”

“I’m wounded! You didn’t make an appearance for me?” He asked, clutching his chest to add to the dramatics. You laughed at his antics. 

“‘Course not,” you grinned, “I came for my boyfriend Albert.” you said, grabbing his arm as he walked by. He smiled at you.

“Hello Honey-Boo-Boo-Bear.”

“That’s the best you could do? We’re done.” 

“How will I ever go on without you?” 

You laughed, and Race did too.

Albert walked away, but not before mouthing ‘Do it!’ to Race. 

He started playing with his hands while making small talk. It was one of his nervous habits. You had only noticed it the time that Bunsen made him answer a question he didn’t know the answer to. He sat there playing with his hands till he solved the problem. 

“Do you uh..”

“Hm?”

“Do you have my number?” He smirked.

“Ye- no I don’t. Care to give it to me?” You said, stretching your hand to give him your phone.

“Damn, that was smooth.” He choked out, blushing. 

“Thanks.” you said when he handed your phone back.

“Yeah, ‘course.”

——

He hadn’t asked you on the date yet. He would soon. He was trying to work up the nerve. 

“Oh my god. Racetrack.” Albert groaned. “She flirted with you, she wanted your number. She WANTS to go on a date with you.” 

“What if she doesn’t?”

“She literally does, Kath was saying she hopes you’ll ask soon.” Jack adds

“She literally makes heart eyes at you in math. Ask her out please.” Finch is literally begging by now.

——

Another day. Another promise he makes to himself. He will ask you out. He sits through watching Romeo make advances in Seitz’s. (but he’s actually just being friendly like usual.) He sits through half of Bunsens. He’s promising himself today is the day. Half of Bunsen's class is glaring at him, silently telling him to get it over with. The final push is when Albert blows her a kiss, meant to tell Race to hurry up. He puts his head in his arms and freaks out before turning to you.

“Do you have any free time this weekend?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Do you wanna go on a date with me?” 

“Yeah, ‘course. Took you this long to notice?” 

Race grinned. Suddenly Finch clapped, and the rest of the class joined in. Bunsen wasn’t pleased, but everyone else was. Race had finally asked you out.

Instead of listening to Bunsen, you grabbed out the book Davey had returned to you a few weeks ago. 

“Oh hey! I knew that was your book! Found it on the bleachers.” Race grinned. 

“Davey said I left it with Sarah?”

“Nah I found it.” 

You smiled at him, it was hard not to.

—— 

“Hi.”

“You can drive?” 

He glared at you while you got in the passenger's seat of his car. 

“‘Course I can drive? I’m literally 17.”

“Jack doesn’t have his license?”

“Jack is a menace.”

“So are you.”

“Jack has Katherine.”

“True.” 

It was no use fighting the ‘menace’ part, unfortunately. It was dark outside, enough for the street lamps to be on anyways. Race was driving his beat up Toyota truck. It didn’t surprise you when he pulled into the drive in movie theater. 

“Oh my god, you got us tickets to Mamma Mia?”

“Yes I did.”

“Race I really want to kiss you right now”

“I really want you to kiss me right now.” 

“I really actually kinda wanna wait till we’re sitting in the back of your truck because I saw the blankets and I’m cold.” 

He smiled and hopped out of the truck. You followed soon after before climbing up into the truck bed. Now that you were warm, you turned your head towards his and leaned in. Race was a really good kisser.

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, ‘course.”

—

hello 1.9k words of stupid

#race x reader #racetrack x reader #racetrack higgins x reader #racetrack higgins #newsies #i don’t know what i’m doing #send help

[sandy-the-glader]

Sooo I’m obsessed with newsies (again) since I decided to rewatch it recently. And I wanna write for Racetrack or some other characters I just gotta know if I should/you guys would be down 😗

Also who do you guys wanna see?? Send me some more requests and Ill try to be more on it lol (especially for newsies stuff.)

#racetrack x reader #racetrack higgins #jack kelly #newsies broadway #musical #plz I gotta know #but I most likely will anyways #other boys #fluff

[sunno-needs-to-go-outside]

This isnt meant to be hateful or to dunk on people who write like this, but I am so TIRED of people writing newsie fics with a fem!reader or oc thats like "im different, im a girl newsie" or "i had to dress up as a boy to be a newsie" or "its so hard to be the ONLY GIRL newsie", bc yes, there were no girls that explicitly played girl newsies in the movie or musical, but girl newsies DID exist!! You can literally search it up!! The only reason people didnt really notice a lot of girl newsies during the strikes was bc most of them became "scabbers", it payed better and you werent allowed to hit girls, so they got off scot free. But before and likely after that, there were probably just as many girl newsies as there were boys. You can argue that you use these as a plot device to build tension or to create conflict but PLEASE IT IS SO OVERUSED AND UNORIGINAL BY NOW. And your reader or character doesnt HAVE to be a newsie, they can have other professions and things that make them an interesting character.

#not trying to dunk #i like how i said but then immediately dunked #i am how i am #but PLEASE stop doing this #for my sake #and the sake of the people who agree with me #newsies #newsies x reader #92sies #livesies #jack kelly x reader #david jacobs x reader #crutchie morris x reader #racetrack higgins x reader #spot conlon x reader #you can add more tags if you want #those are just the most popular ones i can think of #newsies oc #newsie oc

[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

[youaintnothinbuta]

— racetrack higgins boyfriend hcs —

ೃ⁀➷ summary: just a bunch of cute boyfriendy hcs about race !

pairing: race higgins x fem!reader

warnings: none

A/N: feel free to request a specific trope of hcs, maybe some nsfw ones next ?? Hope you enjoy <3

• gets outwardly defensive when the other newsies tease about him being affectionate towards you, but it just makes him hold you/your hand, etc even tighter

• quickly leans in to give you a peck on the cheek as he enters a hug

• ALWAYS makes you blow away the dandelion and refuses to let you share you wish “because then it won’t come true”

• going off of that, he likes to give you things. he can’t afford to buy anything, but stones in the shape of a heart, single flowers off the side of the road (even if it’s just a weed), etc he always gives you, like a bird collecting things for their mate

• TEASE IS HIS MIDDLE NAME

• He is SUCH a tease, loves teasing you both innocently and not so innocently ;)

• He folds so fast when you tease him back though

• tucks your hair behind your ears— he thinks you look adorable

• Constantly playing with your hair, twirling it round his finger, brushes the ends against his face

• Loves making you blush, especially in front of others. He’ll whisper certain things in your ear so only you can hear and then pull away and smirk as he watches the rouge creep up your neck and face and spread to your ears.

• Smirks whenever he catches you staring at him

• He loves tickling you. Annoyingly loves it. He just loves your giggle

• He would never be caught DEAD babytalking in front of anyone, especially not his newsie friends, but in private…he loves it

• He’s very street smart, which is nice because as a young woman you tend to be vulnerable to mugging, etc

• Racetrack Higgins: self proclaimed king of New York AND king of romance

• His biggest green flag is that even after months and months and YEARS of dating he will continue to flirt like he’s still trying to get you

#race #race higgins #race x reader #racetrack higgins #racetrack newsies #racetrack #race newsies #reader x race #racetrack x reader #racetrack higgins x reader #reader x racetrack #reader x racetrack higgins #newsies #newsies fanfic #newsies broadway #newsies fluff #headcanon #newsies imagine #newsies headcanons #newsies hcs #hcs #headcanons #newsboys #jeremy jordan newsies #newsies jack kelly #jack kelly newsies #the woild is yer erster #boyfriend hcs #ben cook #ben tyler cook

[amoreva]

I JUST BINGE READ ALL OF YOUR RACE FICS AND YOUR WRITING IS SO GOOD AAA💕💕 it feels like he’s real and the relationship is real and i’m actually in the world of the story holy shit,,, if you’re still taking requests can you write some race fluff, preferably in canon era, with like a cute lead up to him getting together with the reader (if you’re okay with it of course!) thanks!!

HOPELESSLY IN LOVE

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pairing: racetrack higgins x fem!reader

summary: the brooklyn newsies are strong and independent. they can hold their own and are respected; despite being a borough with a large amount of girls. so when one falls in love, her nature begins to crumble.

warnings: n/a

a/n: using the uksies as brooklyn, plus some from the broadway show. also, omfg i really appreciate it, thank you so much<3

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You never knew what romantic attraction felt like until you saw him at Medda’s Theater with his stupid blue eyes, his stupid blonde curls, his stupid cigar, his stupid cute smile—

Davey— that new Manhattan newsie was introducing your borough, respectfully, when you saw him. He was smiling at you, more so at your whole borough, ecstatic you showed up to the strike. That smile—that stupid cute smile made your heart flutter, your stomach churn with butterflies.

Of course, you knew what family love and platonic attraction felt like—you felt that for every newsie in Brooklyn. They were your brothers and sisters by heart. Yet, he stole your heart. Bastard. You ought to soak him.

Falling in love was a weird thing to do, especially since your priority was the sell papers to survive. You find yourself thinking about Manhattan’s second after the strike is won.

It didn’t help that he hugged you when Kelly announced the strike ended in their favor or when you guys talked during celebrations that night. The memories haunted your sleep.

A loud groan escaped your lips. That stupid smile of his. Your hands going over your warm, rose colored face as you sat on your bunk. Ritz and Hotshot peeked their heads into the girls bunk room, hearing you groan.

“What’re moping and griping about?” Hotshot asked, crossing his arms. His thick accent ringing in your ears.

You turn to look at you friends and remove the hands from your face. Before you could get a word in, Ritz is cupping your cheeks and feeling your forehead. “You’re burning up, Y/N!” Ritz exclaimed and shook your head side to side, lightly, to inspect your red cheeks.

“Ritz, please—” You begged the auburn haired girl to let your face go.

“Spot is going to be worried.”

“Ritz—”

“I think we have medicine somewhere.”

“Ritz, hang on—“

“Water and rest, that’s what my mama says.”

“I don’t have—”

“Spot ain’t letting you sell tomorrow.”

“Ritz!”

You shouted finally getting her attention. Ritz stopped her worrying. Hotshot stood up straight with raised eyebrows. You gently put your hands on Ritz’s wrists and removed them from your face. “I ain’t sick. I ain’t coughing or feelin’ bad.”

“Then what’s got your face so red, Y/N?” Ritz asked, she titled her head ever so slightly.

“A boy.” Hotshot spoke up.

You glared at Brooklyn’s second. Were you really that readable? Hotshot had to be a fucking psychic. A smirk danced on his lips. The silence said it all.

Ritz lit up like the Fourth of July. “You like a boy!” Ritz exclaimed with a wide grin. You slapped a hand across her mouth.

“Ritz, please don’t tell the others—” You begged to convey your seriousness. “You too, Hotshot.”

Ritz, still buzzing with excitement, nodded her head. You quickly shoved Hotshot into the girls’ bunk room and shut the door. “Who is it?” Ritz asked excitedly.

You pressed your lips together in a thin line. An internal dilemma with yourself. Would you rather suffer in silence, pin over a newsie in the other side of the Brooklyn Bridge or tell two people your crush which could potentially spread throughout the borough?

You decide to tell Hotshot and Ritz. Love is too confusing for you to suffer alone.

“It’s Manhattan’s second in command.” You mumbled, twisting your fingers as your face heats up. Just thinking about Race got your stomach all twisted up in a good way.

You didn’t think they heard you, but they did. Loud in clear.

“Race? Race!” Ritz confirmed.

Hotshot raised an eyebrow in amusement. “The one that “wanders” on our turf to bet at Sheepshead?”

“Yes.” You sighed exasperatedly and fell onto your bunk. “He’s just so—”

You couldn’t find the words to describe him, but then proceeded to go on a rant about Race for 10 minutes.

It wasn’t long before everyone in Brooklyn knew of your little crush on Manhattan’s second (and probably Manhattan). It was terrible with all the teasing and the questions on what you would do.

You didn’t know what to do! You would just lay in your bed and smile stupidly when you thought about him. “Pathetically in love” is what you thought.

Stray decided to do something.

With Spot’s permission (seeing you hopelessly in love was getting in the way of selling and Brooklyn’s reputation), Stray went to Manhattan. Stray had connections there. Her boyfriend and brother lived in Manhattan’s borough.

Stray told Specs, who told Elmer, who told Henry, who told Jojo, who told Mike, who told Finch, who told Race—that you liked him. When you got word that Race knew, you panicked.

Romance like that with him. You wouldn’t know how to act, what to do, or what to say. You’ve seen romance from afar; with rich couples, elderly couples, teenagers—all types of couples!

“Ya’ gotta relax, kid.” Spot patted your back after they found you contemplating your choices on your bunk. “If Racer is as half bright as you, he’ll see you’re a real gem.”

That gave you some confidence in yourself. You shouldn’t get worked up about some boy. Taking Mac’s advice seemed like the best option. “He’s just a guy!”

But, he seems real sweet and humorous and charming and ambitious. Keyword: seems. You might be setting yourself up for failure.

After days and days of dreading what you should do, Race came walking into Brooklyn, willy nilly, specifically to Graves’ and yours selling spot.

“Heya miss, can I get a pape?” Race asked.

You weren’t paying attention and grabbed a newspaper from your bag. Seeing him in front of you with his stupid blue eyes, his stupid blonde curls, his stupid cigar, his stupid cute smile—

You froze. A blush rising to your face. You spun on your heels and walked away. A fight or flight response.

Graves grabbed you with a smirk and turned you around. “Talk to him!” Graves whispered and pushed you towards Race.

He had that charming, amused smile on his face. “Hey.” He spoke, two hands on the strap of his paper bag.

“Hey.” You croaked.

“I—uh…got word, ya like me.”

“Mhm.”

Race looked at you awkwardly. If you looked hard enough, you saw a faint faint blush on cheeks. “You—uh…wanna go to the Sheepshead with me?”

“Now?” You asked incredulously.

“Now.” Graves spoke firmly. “You can sell at Sheepshead, don’t worry. I’ll be fine by myself.”

And so, you and Race went to Sheepshead Races. You held onto his arm like one of those rich ladies would do to a gentlemen. Conversation was made, no matter how awkward it was between you two.

The Sheepshead Races were loud and lively. You usually went here with Lucky and Scope when you had downtime.

“C’mon, they’ll start soon.” Race intertwined his hands with yours and pulled you through a crowd of people. “Gotta get the best seats.”

“Isn’t that the front row?” You asked, glancing back at where you and your friends would usually sit.

“Trust me, sweetheart. These seats are better than any front row.” Race grinned.

Your heart skipped a beat.

The name “sweetheart” sounded so right from his lips.

Race took you to a chainlink fence. You were close enough to see the jockeys’ faces and the horses shaking their head. The spot was at the bottom right of the original seating, in between the commentator’s box and the vendor.

He let go of your hand to lean against the fence. You frowned slightly, missing the feeling of his hand in yours. “Better than any front seat.” He repeated softly.

“Is this how you got your name?” You gestured to the races. Your nerves slowly disappearing. You were a Brooklyn newsie for Christ’s sake! Be confident!

“What?” Race shook his head as if you broke him out of his trance. “Oh—uh…kinda! That and I would be the first to the circulation gate. I’m pretty fast for a newsie.”

“You’re pretty for a newsie.” You responded without missing a beat.

“What’s that?” Race leaned in to hear you better. A smirk on his face.

Before you could respond, a gunshot sounded. Hooves slammed on the dirt track. The commentator spoke enthusiastically about the race. In no time, the horses and jockeys were passing you. The wind from them passing knocked off your newsie cape. You could practically see the sweat on the jockeies’ faces.

“Careful.” Race snaked an arm around your waist as soon as the horses passed. He pulled you towards him, concerned about your safety.

You yelped going face first into his chest. Race chuckled awkwardly. You pulled away slightly, but not out of his arms. You two met eyes, just staring. The sound of the hooves faded away.

His blue eyes, the same color as the East River, the same color as a beautiful day. No words were shared between you two. Race gulped. The tension palpable.

Cheering and groans were heard as the commentator announced the outcome. “If—you couldn’t tell…” Race spoke nervously, never tearing his eyes away from yours. “I think your cute—hell, I think your badass for being a Brooklyner.”

Usually when you saw a lady and gentleman like this, they share a kiss. Your heart was beating out of your chest. You never kissed anyone, but this seemed like the perfect moment.

“I don’t know how to kiss…” You admitted quietly.

“We don’t gotta kiss.” Race assured.

“But I want too.”

“…”

“…”

“Can I kiss ya then?”

“Please.”

The minute his lips met yours, the whole world froze. Your stomach twisted in a good warm feeling. Electricity and sparks flying with a single touch to the lips. Your brain was blanking. No words could describe a first kiss.

“Was that…okay?” Race pulled away.

“Better than okay.” You nodded firmly and pressed another kiss to his lips.

Both Race and you got a little more confident and kissed each other back. It only lasted a few seconds, but it was sweet. “There’s more to Brooklyn than the Sheepshead Races.” You pulled away this time.

“I figured.” Race laughed and ran a hand through his blonde curls. He picked up your newsie’s cap that flew off. Brushing off the dirt, he placed the cap back on your head.

“I wanna show you more places in Brooklyn.” You spoke without even realizing what you were saying.

“A date then.” Race smirked.

“A date.” You confirmed.

“Great.”

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#newsies #uksies #newsies broadway #newsies x reader #race higgins #race x reader #racetrack higgins #racetrack newsies #racetrack x reader #broadway

[sl-newsie]

Cryophobia (Racetrack Higgins x OC) *Winter Special* ❄️

Summary: Racetrack tries to ask a girl on a date, but seems to regret it when she coaxes him into ice skating. Will a small accident possibly dilate their new love?

“Extra! Extra! Coal inventory down 20 percent!”

“Colder weather expected throughout the week! Get your paper right here!”

I do my best to ignore the huddled newsies, who are currently in my way. It doesn’t help when the younger one looks up at me with wide, pleading eyes, and all but begs for me to buy a paper.

“I’m so sorry! I’d luv to, but I don’t have much spare change.” To make up for what I cannot provide, I give the sad child one of my apples. “It’s not much. I do hope you get better customers.”

I turn to continue on my way, but have now caught the attention of the odda newsie.

“Hey Les, who’s your friend?” He asks. 

The child called Les shakes his head and holds up the apple. “I donno. I tried to sell her a pape but instead she gave me this.”

The questionnaire steps forward, one hand clutching a newsbag and the odda holding a cigar… but it’s not lit. 

“Well hello there, miss.” He removes his hat in a gentlemanly fashion. “And what might a young lady such as yourself be do’n on this crisp evening?”

“Returning from the market. May I inquire who’s asking?”

The man lets out a laugh. “‘Inquire?’ That’s a big word! Ya read much?” He lifts up a newspaper and wiggles his eyebrows. “I could deliver one to you straight away tomorrow.”

His teasing tugs at my heart and I can’t help but smile. “Possibly. But why should I tell you where I live, hm? I don’t even know your name.”

He nods respectfully and tips his hat. “Racetrack Higgins at your service, miss. Friends call me Race.”

I smile politely. “Good to meet you, Race. I’m assuming that’s a nickname?”

“Sure is,” he states proudly. “I’s one-a the best gamblers in ‘Hattan. Now may I ask who you are, beautiful?”

Normally, my parents’ lessons have taught me not to speak so much with strangers. This Race character may be new to me, but he is certainly much better than other men I’ve had to converse with. 

“It’s Emily, Emily Shelby.”

Race’s eyes go wild. “Shelby? As in Father Shelby, the minister? God… Whaddya do’n out this late? Your fadda won’t like that!”

I laugh at his sudden caution. “Believe me, I’m not as uptight as my family. They think I’m supposed to be a simple girl who stays home and will become a housewife, but for now I’ve been enjoying what freedom I have outside.”

This seems to spark an idea in Race, because he suddenly gets very excited.

“Well, if you’s so keen on do’n something fun, how ‘bout I take ya out?”

I must admit, his boldness is intriguing. Already he’s proven to be polite and chivalrous, both redeeming qualities that I respect very much. Besides, I’ve already grown up 20 years and am still being pushed to find a suitor. It’s time I stop putting it off and start courting.

I snicker and give him a nod. “Alright. You claim the date, I name the activity on said date.”

Race’s smug look shows a quick flicker in surprise to my response. “Well alrighty, then! What’d ya have in mind, beautiful?”

I smirk. “Ice skating.”

The man’s eager face falters darkly in a split second to almost reflect a look of pure terror, almost too fast to notice. But he quickly regains himself and shows a confident smile.

“Very well. I assume you know the best spot?”

“Indeed I do, Higgins. There’s a pond not too far outta town.”

“What about me?”

We both turn back to the smaller newsie, who’s starting to shiver. I kneel down and offer him my gloves.

“It’s get’n dark, Les. You should head back and warm up. Tell Davey I’ll be late.” Race looks over at me with a cheesy grin. “Tell him I’ve got a date.”

Les nods eagerly and scurries off.

“So where to?”

I stand up and point to the trail leading north. Race offers an arm, which I take graciously, and we both start walking through the crisp air. Thankfully we’re on the edge of town and the pond is close by, because the air’s already starting to get colder. Race must notice, because he begins to take off his jacket.

“What are you doing?”

He shrugs. “It’s cold, figured you’s could warm up more.”

I hold up a hand to stop him and gesture for him to put his coat back on. “That’s really sweet, thank you. But I don’t get cold too easily. You need your coat more than I, Race. I promise this won’t be too long- oh! Here we are!”

For now there’s no falling snow, but that won’t last long. I lead Race to the edge and notice that the ice is untouched, which is strange since I thought more people would’ve been here by now.

“Don’t we need skates?” Race asks as he gives the pond a skeptical look.

“Not necessarily. I’ve never been able to afford skates, so I just slide with my boots on.” I grab a nearby stick and give the ice a stiff poke, discovering that it’s smooth enough. “Good conditions for skating. Very smooth, very sturdy. Just one thing-” I turn to Race and change to a serious tone: “Be careful by the edge and the center. That’s where the ice is the weakest.”

He nods in understanding and still seems cautious of the ice, so I decide to show him by stepping out foist. Race eventually seems convinced and carefully steps out too, already slipping all over the ice.

“Hang on!” I help steady him before he can fall. “One step at a time, Higgins- ah!”

Race lets out a yelp when he slips again, causing him to cling to my chest. The closeness sends my heart beating like a crazed metronome, as well as bringing Race to get a mischievous look on his face.

“Gee, Emily. If you’s was so desperate to get close, all ya gotta do is ask!”

I roll my eyes and help him regain his balance. “Careful, Higgins. Remember I’m the minister’s daughter, and boundaries are very important.”

“Yeah, I know.” 

He tests out the ice again and soon begins gliding around as well, each of us leaving trails all over the snow. By now it’s starting to snow, making it harder to see. Eventually Race gets the hang of it and, before I can comprehend what’s going on, he slides up behind me and spins me around.

“Whoa! Wait- aah!” I giggle and laugh as the brown-eyed newsie twirls me through the billowing snow. No one has ever made me feel this full-hearted, so free-spirited… As if we’re skating in a magic snow globe apart from reality itself.

Race must notice my dazed state because he slows down to try to look at me more carefully through the white, blinding blizzard. He has a strange look too, as if he’s thinking about something serious.

“Emily, I just wanna say that- Oh God!”

We both hear it before we know what’s going on. I feel Race shove me away just as the crack forms, ripping open the ice and swallowing Race into the frigid water. My heart stops, as well as all the happiness I’d just felt, as I scramble over to see what’s become of my new friend.

“Race? Race! Oh my God! Where are you?!” I shriek as I feel around the cold water, hoping to catch him. It appears that God has heard me, because I feel a hand grasp mine and Race resurfaces. He’s coughing and shaking as if he has personally met Death, leading me to react with panic.

“Here, here! Up, up, quick!” I help him crawl up outta the water and carefully lead him back off the pond and onto solid ground, where I immediately start to tear his waterlogged clothes off.

But Race sees this differently.

“Wait- What-? Emily, whaddya doing?” He asks in a confused manner.

“You’s soaked to the bone, and these icy clothes is just gonna make hypothermia even worse!” I explain as I strip him down to his knickers and undershirt, then remove my own cloak to wrap it around him. “Quick! We need to get you someplace warm. Do you have a place to stay?”

“Th- Th- The lodging h-house,” he tries to answer through shiver fits. “‘S- ‘S not t-too far.”

My mind forms out a plan and I sling an arm around him. “Alright, let’s go. Hurry! We’ve gotta be quick if you don’t wanna catch cold.”

“Too late,” Race tries to joke, but this is no laughing matter. He’s pale as snow and his lips are turning blue.

Time drags on, apparently wanting to torment me with worry as we rush back to town. When I ask Race for directions he points to a street leading further into ‘Hattan, and thankfully I am quick to spot a sign that says Newsboys Lodging House. I don’t even bother knocking.

“Where’s the bathroom?” I ask Race.

“Up-upstairs.”

After I help drag him up what seems like an infinite number of stairs I finally get him to the bathroom and have him sit in a tub, but leave his clothes on to give him privacy.

“We can’t heat you up too fast, so just bear with me.” I start the water with a steady temperature, meanwhile Race is grasping my cloak around him for dear life. After a while he finally starts to get some color back on his face.

“Are you still numb?” I ask hesitantly.

He gets a funny grin on his face and shakes his head. “I can feel my feet again!”

I nod again and again, trying to remember if there’s any treatment I forgot. There doesn’t seem to be, so all I can do now is kneel down next to Race and look at him with guilt and apology. 

“Race, I am so sorry! This is all my fault, and I will replace your clothes. And… I understand if you wanna forget about this-”

“Are ya kidding?” The short newsie finds sensation in his hand to grasp mine and he starts laughing. “Doll, that’s gotta be one-a the most terrifying moments of my life, and I luved it! I mean, all my life I’s been too scared to skate, and here you are look’n all innocent and gorgeous ask’n me to skate with ya! God, Mush is gonna laugh when he hears this!”

But I don’t laugh. All I can do is gawk and stare at his laid-back response.

“Emily? You ok?”

Jaw still on the floor, shake my head. “I just- You… You almost caught hypothermia and you’re just- just laughing about it? How are you so calm?”

Race shrugs. “Gotta laugh sometimes. If you don’t, life gets too sad.” He sits up straighter and his smile grows softer. “I’d never wanna forget you, Emily. Not if it means never having adventures like this again. Besides,” He gives me a teasing wink. “Was really sweet to see how you’s really care ‘bout me.”

I let out a heavy groan and hold my head in my hands. “It’s called adrenaline. Makes people do crazy things.”

“I disagree.” I feel Race trail his thumb across my cheek. “I think it highlights who a person really is, how they really feel. And if I’s right…” I feel him shift in the water and look up to see his face only inches from mine. “Now that I can feel my face again-” He pauses to cup my face in his hands and leans in impossibly closer. “I can feel your soft lips.”

And then he kisses me. Full-out and deep-hearted. He ironically makes me go numb, and sends a million emotions coursing through me. I don’t even hesitate when he wraps his arms around me and pulls me into the tub with him, both of us lost in thought.

Race pulls away foist because I’s too dazed to think, and he looks up at me as if I hung the stars.

“I think I luv you…” he thinks out loud in a dreamy voice.

“My my, whadda we got here?” Anodda voice taunts.

I nearly leap outta my skin and jerk my head around to find anodda newsie standing in the doorway, one with an eyepatch. God, how’s this gonna look? The minister’s daughter caught with a half-naked newsie in a bathtub.

Race don’t seem as fazed by it. Instead he just sighs and gives the intruder a warning glare.

“Blink, you so much as utter a word-a this, and I’ll bust your odda eye.” He says this so lightly, as if simply asking for a glass of water, rather than how harsh it’s supposed to sound. Though the message is just as dominating, because ‘Blink’ holds up his hands in surrender and starts walking back. 

“Enjoy, c'est la vie, have fun. Forget I was even here.”

Race nods. “That’s what I thought. Now, where were we?” He trails kisses down my still-shocked face. “Don’t mind him, he won’t tell.”

I stir myself outta my trance and get a grasp at what’s happening. “Race… My father won’t like this. You gotta keep it secret, please!”

“So there’s no objection from you?” His face light up and he pulls me closer.

I shake my head and rest it on Race’s chest, giving him a playful smirk. “None at all. I kinda like this.”

#newsies #newsies 1992 #newsies musical #newsies broadway #racetrack higgins #racetrack newsies #newsies fanfiction #newsies the musical #newsies x reader #race x reader #race newsies #anthony higgins #racetrack x reader #92sies #winter #snow #ice skating #cold weather #blizzard

[lovingmusicalmen]

Awwwww your Race blurb is so cute! Could you do one for Race with the "Do you want me to carry you?" prompt?

I'm gonna be honest... Race is the current loml I actually fucking love writing for him

Still accepting blurb requests!

Fluff 17 - "Do you want me to carry you?"

Race's eyebrows lifted a little at the loud groan Y/N let out as she fell into the seat beside his at Jacobi's. The girl dropped her forehead onto the table, complete with another long-suffering sigh.

Race looked over to the other Newsies who were sat around them, all of them with expressions of equal amusement painted across their features. Race met Blink's eyes and gestured at his girlfriend with a questioning look, only to be met with a shrug from Y/N's selling partner.

"You alright, Doll?"

"No," she huffed dramatically. She rolled her head over so that she was facing him and Race's heart stuttered in his chest upon seeing her little pout.

Even after months of dating, she still had that effect on him. How or why, Race didn't know. But he wasn't going to complain.

He reached out and removed Y/N's hat from her head, and gently took out some of the pins she had been using to keep her hair from her face. Y/N let out a contented sigh when Race's fingers began to brush through the strands.

"Rough selling day?" He asked, lowering his voice slightly. He had a feeling it was just general exhaustion that had his girlfriend feeling low, which all of the Newsies would understand and sympathise with. But on the off chance it was something slightly more serious, Race didn't want to share her private business with their crowd of friends.

"My shoes are breaking," Y/N lamented, sighing again. Race couldn't help but smile a little and Y/N scowled up at him, though Race saw the gleam of amusement in her eyes. "Don't laugh at me!" She whined.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Race said, feeling anything but. "I thought you'd been saving for a new pair of boots anyway?"

"Well, yeah" Y/N admitted grudgingly. "I just didn't want to actually have to buy them, you know? Figured if I asked the nuns to pray for my shoes, they'd just... last forever."

"Immortal boots?"

"Immortal boots," Y/N confirmed sagely, at last cracking a smile.

"Want me to come with you to get some new ones tomorrow after circulation?" Race offered. Y/N's expression softened and she at last moved off of the table to curl into Race's side instead.

"Stop thinking so laterally - I just want to complain about my shitty, breaking boots," Y/N huffed, though there was no malice behind the words, judging by the soft kiss she pressed to the column of his neck.

Race wound his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him, chuckling.

"I'm sorry for your loss, doll - I'm sure Al would be up for hosting a funeral for them, if you want? Toss them off the Brooklyn Bridge? You can make a speech about how much they meant to you?"

Y/N snorted a laugh, moving away just enough so that she could tilt his face gently down and press a kiss to his lips.

"Spot'll be thrilled we invaded his turf for my stinky boots."

"Nah - think he'll be as thrilled as any of us to see them go. I can smell your shoes all the way in Sheepshead."

Race was rewarded for his joke with a sharp elbow in the side and an outraged cry from his girlfriend as she pulled away glare playfully at him.

"I hate you, Racetrack," Y/N huffed, emphasising the second part of his nickname in the way she only ever did to tease him. Race shot her a cheeky grin, tugging her back towards her to give her another kiss.

"Come on - I'm tired, let's go take a nap."

"That sounds so good right now," Y/N agreed, all pretence of being upset with him being given up as she melted back into his embrace. Race dropped a kiss to the top of her head.

"And to spare your dying boots any further disrespect, you want me to carry you back to the lodging house?" He offered.

Though, he didn't wait for her response as he just scooped her up into his arms. Y/N let out a shriek, garnering the attention and amusement of their friends again as she wound her arms around Race's neck. The laughs of the Newsie's erupted through the diner and Y/N rolled her eyes, seeming unable to muster up her usual teasing glare as she instead beamed at her boyfriend.

"You're so annoying."

Race shot her a cheesy grin.

"You love me."

#racetrack higgins #race higgins #racetrack x reader #racetrack fanfiction #racetrack newsies #newsies #newsies fanfiction #newsies fic #newsies x reader

[whyareyouhere66]

Racetrack higgins hc??

Yes, of course- thank you for the request, I hope you enjoy! [and thank you for the follow bro <;3]

Racetrack Higgins Headcannons. [Gender Neutral Reader]

Includes both Romantic and Platonic- not as much platonic ones, I apologize for that.

Content Warnings: mentions of smoking

Romantic:

◘ I said this in a previous post to @mysemantics, and I’ll say it again- constant pet names. Probably 3 in one sentence. 

◘ When he see’s you, he’ll grin and open his arms wide and with a cigar in his mouth, loudly say something like “hello, angel, my darling, how’re we feeling this fine evening?” 

◘ Brags about you every chance he can get, to Jack, to Spot, basically anyone. It’s a common thing amongst the newsies- they like to brag. 

◘ Jokes around a lot, but that’s never once stopped him from being affectionate.

◘ He especially likes when he can just pull you into his lap and hold one arm around your waist, the other catching his cigar. Doesn’t matter if you are taller, shorter- he’ll do it anyways.

◘ He’s pretty touchy in a relationship, he’s most comfortable when he can lean on you, lay on you, hug you, etc.

◘ Any alone time you two often get, is closer to night time- perhaps early morning, or just the later afternoon. 

◘ You two will be strolling the streets, the sun just barely visible, talking about the most pointless of things for minutes to hours at a time.

◘ It comes to the point where you are walking loops around city blocks, weaving around the maze of buildings and paying more attention to each other and the sky than anything else.

◘ When the group goes down to Medda’s for a show, you will either be in his lap or next to him with his hand somewhere on you.

◘ Sometimes he’ll lean over and whisper, “I think you’d pull that off real nice,” or, “What’d’ya think, Angel? You wanna try that out some time?” And it’ll sound like a joke, in true Racetrack fashion- but he is not entirely kidding.

◘ When it comes to sleeping situations- basing off the earlier points, he loves to have you there to sleep with.

◘ He likes it most when he is behind you, with one arm looped over your waist. Again- doesn’t matter if you are shorter, taller, bigger, smaller- he does not care. As long as you are in his arms he’s fine.

◘ However, that can’t always play out- especially with such small beds, so if you aren’t gonna be sleeping in his bed- he has solutions.

◘ You will be the first thing he sees every morning after he wakes up, and every night before he falls asleep. Before going to bed he will stop by your bunk and say goodnight, good morning, whichever fits the occasion. 

◘ I do just wanna touch one more time on what I wrote before- he does not mind if he is the shorter/ smaller or taller/bigger one in the relationship. He does not give one fuck. If he can reach your lips for a kiss, does he really have anything to complain about?

◘ The only time he’s ever really argued about it is when one of the other boys tries to use it to tease him. And even then, it won’t affect how he sees the relationship- it’s just him throwing around insults.

Platonic: 

◘  You are the first person he tries to make bets with.

◘ At any given chance, he turns to you and starts there first. If you say no- then he starts taking the opinions of others.

◘ Hangs around you most, when one of you finish selling papers early- you will be spotted together. When eating, at Medda’s, any sort of gambling, you are next to each other. It happens naturally, one minute you’re standing around somewhere and the next you’re standing around somewhere with him. 

◘ Really just you two fucking around a lot, joking and making sarcastic jokes. Sometimes, whenever Spot comes around, then you become a trio for the time being. 

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