#fem newsies

[keerysfreckles]

newsies — MV1 (smau)

pairing: max verstappen x musical theater fem!reader faceclaim; kara lindsay !

summary: when lando drags max to his favorite musical, max takes a liking to the leading lady

warnings: none!

a/n: this is 100% made for me, i can't shut up abt newsies or jeremy jordan... sooo why not combine my two loves (newsies and f1 😁)

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

yourusername just posted !

liked by jeremymjordan, landonorris and 11,037 others

yourusername NEWSIES OPENS ON BROADWAY IN ONE WEEK WHAT IS LIFE

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user1 tickets have been secured since last year IM SO EXCITED

user2 oh to get a hug from jeremy jordan 😞

jeremymjordan IM EXCITED ARE YOU EXCITED

yourusername I CAN'T SIT STILL JERE

user3 "jere" they're too cute 😭😭

mikefaist guess who has a front row seat 😁

yourusername MIKEEE 🥹🥹

user4 OH MY GOD ITS HAPPENING OKAY EVERYBODY STAY CALM

user5 oh i've been waiting YEARS to see y/n in a broadway musical

landonorris missing fp1 to be there 🫡

yourusername lando no that's your job??

landonorris not that important 🤷‍♂️ plus there's someone i want you to meet

user6 someone to meet?? another driver??

yourusername just posted !

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 19,728 others

yourusername opening night, race weekend, and max picking me up from rehearsals! (eventful week if you ask me)

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user1 ABSOLUTELY LOVED THE SHOW!!!!!!!!

user2 y/n and jeremy being the power duo on stage IKTR!!

user3 lando looks like he's hating the rain 😭

user4 WAIT PAUSE WHATS MAX DOING THERE

user5 PICKING HER UP TOO??????

landonorris your fault i dnf'd ☹️

yourusername not my fault it was raining??

user6 WAIT WHAT IF MAX WAS THE ONE LANDO BROUGHT WITH HIM TO OPENING NIGHT

user7 oh your onto something

maxverstappen1 still can't believe you know how to tap dance AND sing at the same time

yourusername i'd say it's harder to be on broadway than it is being an f1 driver

maxverstappen1 no need to go around lying on social media sweetheart

twitter !

yourusername just posted !

liked by landonorris, jeremymjordan and 20,188 others

yourusername spent my time off with this guy, anyone know who he is?

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user1 he's so pookie ugh

jeremymjordan come back to new york ben and mike won't shut up about you (i guess i miss you too)

yourusername only if max can come too

user2 the duo i didn't know i needed

user3 okay but what's max's favorite newsies song 👀

maxverstappen1 i think he's a formula one driver, could be mistaken

yourusername thanks for clearing that up!

user4 max slowly becoming all of y/n's feed is so entertaining

user5 y/n and max the unexpected duo i didn't know i needed

landonorris you didn't hang out with me 😔😔😔

yourusername sorry max is just better company???

twitter !

yourusername just posted !

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 305,984 others

yourusername when f1 update accounts expose you and your boyfriend 😞😞

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user1 SO IT WAS THEM??????

user2 PLS THE CAPTION SHE'S TOO FUNNY

maxverstappen1 the secret was coming out sooner or later love

yourusername i know but now we can't soft launch ☹️☹️

user3 THE CUTEST COUPLE ON THE GRID

landonorris call me cupid 😏

yourusername no

maxverstappen1 no

user4 NEW BF MAX CONTENT IM SO READY

jeremymjordan proud to say i knew before twitter did 😁

maxverstappen1 just posted !

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 450,177 others

maxverstappen1 dating y/n means listening to the newsies soundtrack on repeat ❤️

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user1 THE MIDDLE SLIDE THEYRE TOO CUTE

user2 this had to mean max has a fav newsies song omg

jeremymjordan take care of her please

maxverstappen1 never plan on stopping

user3 y/n's bway bf 🤝 y/n's real bf

landonorris CALL. ME. CUPID.

maxverstappen1 still no

user4 THEY'RE MY EVERYTHING OMG

yourusername i don't think you can have your phone out in the theater sir 🤨🤨

yousuername but seriously you love the newsies soundtrack

maxverstappen1 i never said that

yourusername so what do you go to all the shows for??

maxverstappen1 my beautiful talented stunning girlfriend of course 😉

[youaintnothinbuta]

Hello! If requests are closed please ignore this. But could I maybe get a Jack Kelly x wife!reader where they're settled in Santa Fe and have a baby on the way. But then Jack wakes up and remembers she's just his girlfriend and they're on strike and starving right now. Fluff??

just a dream — jack kelly x reader

Summary: jack has a dream that you were pregnant and you weren’t going to be able to provide for the baby, he wakes up panicking and you comfort him

Pairing: jack Kelly x fem!reader

Word count: 430

Warnings: none, fluff, probably typos you know me :’)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You and Jack were entwined in each other's arms, sleeping peacefully together.

As the night deepened, Jack's unconscious mind began to wander, painting vivid images and emotions that felt startlingly real. He and you were in Santa Fe, in your small yet cosy home, far, far away from New York, happily married with a baby on the way. Jack found himself in the kitchen, enveloped by a serene domesticity, with the aroma of freshly baked bread wafting through the air. You looked at him with a gentle glow of happiness on your face, you moved gracefully about, your hands caressing a burgeoning belly. He smiled as he observed you, admiring you. The realisation struck him — you were expecting a child.

Jack felt a rush of emotions that mirrored reality. He awoke with a jolt, his heart pounding in the aftermath of the dream’s intensity. In the muted darkness, his arms instinctively sought the comforting warmth of your presence. His eyes scanned the room frantically, attempting to reconcile the vivid dream with the stark reality that surrounded him.

“The baby,” he whispered urgently, his voice carrying a desperate plea. “How will we feed the baby?”

You stirred from slumber, blinking away the remnants of dreams. “Jack?” you murmured, your voice filled with as much confusion as his. “What's wrong? What baby?”

He continued to mutter, almost incoherently, his words spilled out, “No ring,” as his fingers delicately fiddled with your left hand, searching for the nonexistent symbol of commitment. Worry etched his features as he explored the flatness of your stomach, the dissonance between dream and reality becoming more pronounced.

“No baby,” he mumbled, his distress palpable, “you’re not pregnant.”

“What’s going on Jack?” Your concern deepened, your eyes adjusting to the dim light as you gently cupped Jack's face.

“I thought that we were— you were— we were in Santa Fe. In a house and you were pregnant and— I didn’t know how we were going to have enough food.”

She reassured him, her voice a soothing balm. "Don’t worry, there's no baby. We're here, right now. Let's just focus on getting through this strike, okay?"

Jack's gaze met yours, vulnerability etched across his features. Slowly, the dream's grip on him loosened as he absorbed the grounding reality of your presence. He nodded, a mixture of relief and lingering disquiet playing on his face.

“Yeah,” he conceded, laying his head on your chest. “Just a dream.”

You wrapped your arms around him, “I'm here, Jack. Whatever happens, we face it together.”

[races-stupid-cigar]

Uk Race with the Brooklyn newsies

[fireworkss-exe]

wlw 92sies Javid because why not

[joeythefrog]

masc for masc sprace is teeth and smoke and agression and tension it's fighting and bruises and small moments of tenderness through this. The aftermath of cleaning scrapes and kissing teethmarks where the other went too rough

fem for masc sprace is teasing and a slow push and pull, it's softer. The masc following the fem around like a lots puppy, adoration and unfiltered affection.

[str4wb3rry-newsboy]

trans fem spot conlon is slowly leaking into my brain...

[i-think-im-still-turning-out]

the fic that was supposed to be for girlsies week

quick thing!!!

yes, i am not participating in girlsies week. HOWEVER, i did write this before everything got bad for me. so, this is where this fic came from :) this was for day 1 which was, your fave newsie as a girl, and i couldnt decide between jack and or davey, so- ENJOY

tw: smoking

Davey Jacobs was standing over the fire escape with a cigar between her fingers. She had stolen them off her friend Race earlier and was trying to not think about the thoughts in her head.

She was trying to not think about her best friend Jackie.

She was trying to not thinking about how kissable Jackie’s lips looked after she took a drink at Jacobis.

She took another long drag from her cigar as she sat on the fire escape.

“Hey Davey!!” Jackie Kelly yelled from the bottom of her fire escape.

Davey looked over and saw her best friend standing there waving her hands.

“Racer gave me an extra cigar. Wanna smoke?” Davey yelled down.

Jackie considered the offer.

Suddenly, the next thing Davey knew, her and Jackie were smoking the stolen cigars on the rooftop.

“You ever get jealous?” Davey asked.

Jackie looked over at her confused. Davey had everything, what should she be jealous about?

"'Bout what?" Jackie asked.

Davey looked away.

"Of how Kath can walk around with Darcy on her arm, but I can't walk around with who 'm in love with." Davey sighed.

Jack noticed how Davey said "I", so it was defiantly a personal thing, but Jackie couldn't remember Davey ever looking at a boy like that.

Come to think of it, she looked at Jackie liked that and when Jackie thought about that her blush deepened.

"Oh..come on Davey, the fella should be pleased to have a newsie as amazing as you on his arm." Jackie said.

Davey chuckled, looking at Jackie. Jackies brown hair had come down from its ponytail and Davey thought it looked magical with her brown skin and red shirt.

"Who said anything about a fella?" Davey laughed, regretting the words as soon as they left her mouth.

Jackie looked over at Davey and pushed her hair behind her ear. Suddenly, Davey grabbed Jackie by her necktie and kissed her. Jackie didn't pull away but melted into it, tasting the cigar smoke from Davey. Suddenly Davey pulled away with tears in her eyes.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Davey cried.

She walked up and started to walk away until Jackie pulled her back and kissed her again.

"Who said anything about being sorry Doll?"

[thatbookworm08]

Over the Bridge Part 1 (Race Higgins x reader)

a/n: Hi there! Thank you so much for noticing my story! It is completed and has eight parts in total. Enjoy!

Summary: The Queen of Brooklyn never expected to fall so hard for an overly energetic blond Newsie from Manhattan during the Strike...

Over the Bridge Masterlist

It was a cloudy day in the city of Brooklyn. You rolled over in your bunk just before the sun began to rise. Your best friend, Spot Conlon strode into the room and stopped by your bed giving you a light tap on the shoulder saying, “Wake up, Ace. Time ta carry da bannah,” 

‘Ace’ was the newsie nickname you acquired for being Spot’s right-hand man–or woman rather–along with ‘The Queen of Brooklyn’.

You sighed. “I’se up,”

You were the only girl newsie in all of Brooklyn, but that didn’t mean you got any less respect. The older boys knew not to mess with you, especially when you were upset, and you had even beat the King of Brooklyn himself in a fight once. As tough as you were, you always made time for the littles. 

You and Spot finished selling your papes by midday and decided to hang out by the harbor before lunch. You two were in the middle of a sling-shot competition when three people approached. 

“Why, if it ain’t Jack be nimble, Jack be quick,” said Spot. 

Jack Kelly? In Brooklyn? Odd. 

Kelly jumped into a speech: something about a strike…? In Manhattan? You stopped listening for a moment when your eyes met with the third boy… you recognized his blue eyes and messy blond curls poking out from underneath his cap. His ears turned a little pink when you smiled. He was one of Spot’s friends from Manhattan, but you just couldn’t remember his name.  

One of the boys with Jack, a new guy you observed, explained to Spot why Brooklyn should join the strike. 

“What is this Jackie Boy?” Spot asked sarcastically, “A walkin’ mouth?” 

“A walkin’ mouth with brains,” Jack clarified, “So’s I suggest you listen to what he’s gotta say. Both of you,” he finished, motioning to you. 

You listened intently to what the boy Davey had to say, nodding at Spot in agreement.

“And how do we’s know you’se won’t back out the second the bulls come for ya?” 

You glanced at your friend. He made a good point. 

“We won’t,” said Davey.

“Then you’ll need ta prove it,” 

You excused yourself and Spot, grabbing his wrist and pulling him aside. “I think they’s is serious ‘bout this, Spot,” you said. 

“I need a bit’s more convincin’ than that,” he said defiantly. 

“Spot—”

He strode back over to Jack and said “When you prove it to me, Brooklyn will be right there backin’ you’se up. Now scram,” 

Kelly knew better than to linger in Brooklyn when he wasn’t wanted so off he went, Davey and the other boy trailing behind. The blonde boy turned back and gave a slight wave and a shy smile. 

Luckily Spot wasn’t looking. 

That night you lay awake, thinking about the strike. You had to help. You wanted to help. So you slid out of bed, dressed in your clothes for the next day, and soundlessly slipped out the window and into the warm night air. 

The city was finally sleeping and everything was calm. You trekked across the Brooklyn Bridge, ready to make history.

Late into the night, you arrived at the Manhattan Lodging House. 

It was too late to knock on the door, it was the middle of the night, after all, so you climbed up the fire escape to the rooftop. 

In the darkness, you saw a figure spin around. “Who’s there?” a male’s voice called, “I can see you,” 

The voice was unfamiliar. It wasn’t Jack’s, or Davey’s, or anyone you knew. 

“It’s me,” you said confidently, stepping into the light. 

You had discovered who the voice belonged to: it was the blond boy with curly hair.

“Well, well, well,” he said, smirking, “What’s da Queen of Brooklyn doin’ on ‘Hattan’s toif?” 

“I came to help with the strike.” you explained. 

The boy raised an eyebrow. “In the middle of the night? Does Spotty know you’re here?” 

“He doesn’t,” you said, keeping your composure. Everyone in New York knew to be scared of you. You weren’t about to let this kid think otherwise. 

“Ooh. Goin’ against your boyfriend’s wishes yeah?” 

“Spot ain’t my boyfriend,” you said. “We’s just friends and that’s all,”

For a moment, a flick of what seemed to be…hope?...sparked in the boy’s face. He stuck out his hand and introduced himself. “The name’s Race,” 

You eyed him skeptically before shaking his hand. “Ace,” 

“No, that’s not right,” Race said, shaking his head.

“Excuse me?” I questioned. 

“Your name,” 

“You tellin’ me I don’t know my own name?” 

Race chuckled and shook his head. “It rhymes with mine!” 

You studied him. The way his nose scrunched and his eyes closed when he laughed, the way his curls bounced in the cool summer breeze. He was rather attractive, in a boyish manner, and you couldn’t help but notice. “It does!” you smiled. 

Race led you to the roof’s edge and leaned on the rail. “Ain’t it amazin’?” he breathed. 

“What?” you wondered. 

“The city,” he said, “When da woild’s finally quiet…” he inhaled deeply.

“Yeah…” you said, doing the same, “So why are you up so late?” 

“Couldn’t sleep,” Race shrugged. 

You couldn’t help but ask him why. 

He shrugged again. “Runnin’ thoughts,” 

You decided not to ask any more. You didn’t want to push his boundaries—you had just met. 

Race didn’t think he’d ever see you again. You were from two different boroughs who didn’t like it when people trespassed on their turf. 

He was told you were scary, and some part of him believed that, but there he was, standing on a roof with you, and you hadn’t soaked him to the ground. That was a good sign…wasn’t it?

He was pulled from his thoughts when he heard you clear your throat. “Oh sorry,” he muttered.

Now he was done for.

Or so he thought. 

Instead of soakin’ him to a pulp, the Queen of Brooklyn just stared out onto the city streets and said, “Are you nervous?…about the strike?” 

“Why do it mattah what ise thinks?” He questioned. 

“It mattahs what everyone thinks,” 

Race thought a moment, searching for the right words. “Do’s youse wants da brave answer or da real answer?”

You stared into his sky-colored eyes and softly said, “Da real answer o’course,” 

Race took a deep breath and leaned forward on the railing. “I’se terrified,” he whispered.

You and Race sat in silence for a long beat. You didn’t like touchy conversations and you certainly didn’t know what to say to ease Race’s anxiety. You looked up at the moon and guessed it was about four in the morning. It took two hours to get back to Brooklyn and you needed to be there before Spot awoke, so you said “I should gets goin’, but you tell your boys Brooklyn will be helpin’ wit da strike. Wit or without Spot,” 

You turned to leave but Race grabbed your wrist. “Wait—“ you turned to face him, “when will I see youse again?” He asked.

“You…you wanna see me again?” 

“Will you meet me up here tomorrow night?” 

You thought. Spot wouldn’t notice if you left…he slept like a rock… “Yes,” you agreed.

Race’s face lit up and he dramatically tipped his cap to you and said “Well then my Queen, until tomorrow!” 

You laughed at his antics and pretended to curtsy back, even though you were wearing Newsie trousers, before climbing back down the fire escape on your way back home.

Race felt like he won a million bucks. You might not have been as ever-stoic as Spot, but he made the Queen of Brooklyn laugh and she seemed to enjoy his company. He couldn’t wait for tomorrow night.

[whyareyouhere66]

hi! could you please write a mush x fem reader when he's heading home in the evening and he see's her being followed/harassed by some drunk guys so he steps in to protect her and then walks her home after

This is late, I’m so sorry about that I’ve been slacking this past month-

I admittedly haven’t watched Newsies in a while, and forgot how to describe him and when I went to get answers from the internet I got two polar opposite ones. One described him to be a gentle giant, Jack’s “muscle”, and the other described him to be skinny, weak and small. I went with gentle giant cause I remember that one more- also I totally forgot Aaron Lohr was in this bro I fucking love him- anyways

Mush x Fem Reader - Thank You

CW: catcalling, harassment, drinking. She/her pronouns used.

It was late in the evening when Mush finally sold the last of his papers. 

The sun was minutes away from setting, and the boy strolled down the street calmly flipping a few coins in his hand, admiring the feel of his hard earned money sliding across his fingers. 

His lips puckered as a whistle blew from his mouth, and just a few blocks up ahead he recognized the street where the lodging house was. 

A long day of pape’ selling had him all worn out, excited to turn in with the rest of his friends and lay down across his stiff, but familiar old mattress. 

The boy had crossed another alley, when out of the corner of his eye he noticed 3 figures. 

It wasn’t like there weren’t any other people walking the busy streets of New York, Mush was aware that he was certainly not alone. However the shadows of the figures made his head turn- he recognized one of them.

Across the street Y/n walked, her skirt swish-swashing across her legs with each hurried step she took. She looked nervous, the first thing Mush noticed as he looked at her. 

The second thing was the two men behind her- more specifically, the malicious looks plastered across their faces. 

They were hunched, almost, hats comfortable on their heads as their hands crept out of their pockets, as if readying to grab at something- someone. They repeatedly tripped over their own feet, stumbling on the sidewalk until catching themselves a few steps later. Each faltered step sent out the same, almost threatening message that they were intoxicated. Anyone could see it, the stumble in their walk or the gross smell reeking off their breath. 

Immediately an uneasy feeling settled into Mush’s bones, and he slowly slipped the coins back into his pocket. Y/n glanced behind her shoulder every so often, her pace picking up each time she did. 

They’d been behind her for quite a while now, he could tell. 

He began to pick up the pace as well, eyes trained onto the men as he walked across from them. For whatever reason, he had yet to cross the street. 

But that was quick to change when the first, low whistle slipped from one of the men’s mouth. 

“Slow down, pretty lady, we aren’t here for a rush!” He called out, an intoxicated laugh following close behind. His buddy smirked at the back of Y/n’s head, and that was more than enough to push Mush’s feet off the curb, into the pavement of the road. 

Y/n was yet to see him, eyes trained on the sidewalk ahead as she hoped, prayed the next few blocks to the lodging house would be short. 

“Hmmm, silent treatment…let’s just see how long that’ll keep up-“ the second one growled, voice thick with a New York accent. His hand leaped out, and reached for the fabric of her sleeve, the skin of her arm. Mush couldn’t let his filthy hands infect her. 

One last push and he had jumped onto the sidewalk, skidding to a stop between the two clearly drunk men and his girl. 

His sudden appearance startled the men, quirking their eyebrows and stuttering to a stop. 

Mush was sometimes called the ‘muscle’ of the ‘Hattan newsies- a quality he very much took advantage of. He had broad shoulders and a smile that always lifted his face, lifted his chin. He could be the weakest boy on Earth and still trick a man into seeing strength. 

And there, in his spot on the sidewalk, he stood with his shoulders square and his chest puffed so these men too could see the quality of his strength. 

The sudden halt of footsteps and whistles made Y/n freeze, throwing another glance over her shoulder- where she suddenly saw Mush’s frame in her way. 

“Hate to break it up, guys, but I’m gonna take her on home now-“ he said, lifting his chin up. The men didn’t seem to register his existence for a moment, staring blankly before a low, rumbled laugh erupted from their chests. To them, it felt like a joke. 

Why was there a dirty teenage boy standing between them and this beautiful looking girl? A joke, that’s what it was.

But alas, Mush never budged. He heard their ugly laughter and barely flinched, as opposed to the hunched girl behind him. His fists curled together by his side, and he whispered to himself. 

“Great, time’s ta’ go.”

The boy didn’t allow himself to turn away from the men fully, instead showing them his side while his other hand moved to Y/n’s back. He led her away from the men, recognizing the street they were on. He saw the buildings around him, recognized the signs plastered on walls- from where they were, the lodging house would be just 3 blocks away. 

The tumbling men looked up from their laughing fit, seeing that the ‘dirty teen boy��� had just led Y/n down the street. They’d gotten distracted, their weak and  twitching muscles allowing their knees to buckle and pull them further away from the two teenagers. 

“Hey- come back!” One of them shouted, finally having realized that him and his friend had fallen behind. 

“Oh c’mon, we weren’t finished with ya’ pretty lady!”

The gross calls sent shivers up the h/c girls spine, wanting to crawl into the warmth of Mush’s hand and hide in it like a child would hide under their covers. He only covered a small part of her back, she felt she could only feel safe if the touch could spread and hide her. 

Mush hadn’t looked at her just yet, keeping his eyes on the drunk men who were by now a block behind. They tried running to catch up, they tried calling out for Y/n to come join them willingly. But only a minute or two later, they gave up. 

And as soon as they had left Mush’s sight, his head snapped to hers. 

“Are you alright? Did they touch you?” He asked, changing his stride to match hers. Y/n shook her head, arms crossed tightly over her chest. 

“No, but-“ she looked at him, “thank you, Mush. Really- I don’t know how I was supposed to get out of there.” 

The apology, the sincerity in her voice, was enough to release some of the tension built into his shoulders. He had her with him, he felt her skin under his fingertips and against he palm of his hand. 

“Of course, couldn’t just let those drunks get to you.” He smiled, hand having slid down her back just an inch. The words felt almost hesitant in his mouth- he didn’t want to say them. Or, more so, he didn’t want to have to. But he had seen the darkness of their eyes, he had heard their whistles. They were some of the same whistles he sometimes heard in his own circle of friends. And, especially in that moment, they felt dirty. 

Y/n ran her thumb over her pointer, pressing the skin against each other as if she was repeatedly cracking it. The need, the want to hide within Mush’s warmth grew so that it almost became and action, her feet shuffling closer to him as they walked. 

The streets were scary, at times. She could be walking to the market, to work, anywhere and there would be the risk of men approaching her and eyeing the back of her skirt. Mush’s help back there on that street sent whole waves of relief through her body, and she only hoped to get lucky like that again. 

As he walked her the remaining three blocks, his hand clasped hers gently, easing her shoulders to relax the same way his had. Due to their daily routine, he was afraid he couldn’t always be there the way he was then. The thought of it going past what had happened that day grossed him out, he didn’t want to imagine it. 

But, there was only so much he could do. So for now, Mush pulled her closer one more time, slinging his arm around her shoulder just as the lodging house came into sight. 

“Will you tell me if that kinda stuff happens again?” He asked, looking at Y/n. She hesitantly nodded, pressing further into his side. “I’ll try.” The h/c girl said. Mush nodded, and they came upon the rundown house, filled with newsies, cigars and singing. 

His arm reached out to open the door. “And, would ya’ like to try an’ sleep in my bed tonight?” He asked, and a small smile found its way on to Y/n’s face. 

“Of course, Mush.”

[winterrrnight]

Wedding / honeymoon with Drew for ig au ?

thank you for this request nonnie! I hope you enjoy this 💞💞 do let me know your thoughts if you wanna xx

honeymoon

PAIRING: drew starkey x fem!reader

SUMMARY: an instagram blurb about you and drew getting married and going on your honeymoon.

FACE CLAIM: n/a

WARNINGS: n/a

EDITH SPEAKS: I wasn't able to find a good face claim for this one so I decided to use faceless pictures from pinterest. please know none of these are deciding what you look like, they are used purely for imagination purposes :)

I made up all the instagram users, so if by any chance I have your instagram user used here, I'm so sorry I promise it was a total coincidence!

please like, reblog and share your thoughts 🥺 I love to interact with you all <3

navigation || join my taglist || requests

liked by rudeth, brooke_starkey and 3,281,492 others

yourinstagram what a day it was celebrating the start of our new life ❤️ drew, I cannot wait to see what the future has in store for us 🎇

tagged: drewstarkey

drewstarkey 💘💘

drewandynschild HAPPY MARRIAGE!!!! 💗😭

rafecore oh my goddd they're so cute 🥹 wishing only the best for them <3

vogueweddings congratulations!! 🤍✨

-> yourinstagram thank you vogue 💞

madelyncline mr. and mrs. starkey 🫶🏻

-> yourinstagram 🤭

liked by user21, obx_is_life and 89,281 others

drewstarkeyupdates y/n via ig stories!

tagged: drewstarkey, yourinstagram

rafeyyy omg their honeymoon 🥹

zachmaclarensgirl can they adopt me or smth

drewsrafe oh lord he's so cute

livelaughrafe NEED TO SEE DREW'S CAMERA ROLL

-> karabaeee FR FR FR

liked by jonathandavissofficial, madisonbaileybabe and 4,421,964 others

drewstarkey wouldn't wanna do this with anyone else

tagged: yourinstagram

yourinstagram 🥺🤍

-> drewstarkey ❤️

fionapalomo how cutee 🫶🏻🥹

-> drewstarkey 💖

user82 ughh I love them smm

iluvrafe they are just my favourite people everrr

drewsify 🥹🥹

liked by hichasestokes, theregoesrafe and 4,382,281 others

yourinstagram honeymoon diaries (drew being drew edition)

lilalovesdrew everyone say thank you y/n for all the premium drew content she's been providing us 😌

-> obxfan29 thank you y/n!!!

-> rafestarkey YEAHH THANK YOU Y/N

drewandynschild can't get enough of him 😭😭

maybankluvbot HES SO CUTE

liked by drew_clouds, theotherzach and 99,291 others

drewstarkeyupdates drew with fans today!

tagged: drewstarkey

ayoitsyourgirl OH THESE ARE SO CUTE

cameronlovebot he looks like he gives the best hugs 🥺

rafe_stars I WANNA HUG HIM SOO BAD

misscarerra 🥹🥹🥹

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[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."

[youaintnothinbuta]

racetrack higgins x reader smut—maybe they getting all dolled up to go to a fancy party with katherine and jack and race can’t take his eyes off of her (the reader)

“You’re no less desperate than me.” - racetrack higgins x reader

Summary: You, Race, Katherine and Jack go to a big party being thrown at Medda’s theatre. Race can’t keep his eyes off of you (not that he ever really can) and it all gets too much, he just has to pull you away into a seperate room and fuck the neediness out.

Pairing: Racetrack Higgins x fem!reader

Word count: 1100

Warnings: SMUT, unprotected sex, no foreplay, coarse language, etc. probably typos <3

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The evening was filled with anticipation as Race, you, Jack, and Katherine prepared for a party at Medda's theatre. It was a special night, one you’d all been looking forward to for a long time.

You and Katherine were hogging the bathroom mirror, the boys left to use the one in the room. Your laughter and hers filled the room as you traded typical girl talk, complimenting each other and joking around, talking about how excited you were for the night.

“Could you do my back, Kate?” You asked, pulling your hair out the way. She put down her brush and moved behind you, helping you do up the back of your dress.

“Turn.” She spoke, brushing your shoulders and fixing your hair.

“Perfect.” She smiled, you turned to look at yourself in the mirror.

Jack and Race on the other hand, were busy fixing their collars and hair and in the other room. As Race brushed his fingers through his hair, he couldn't help but steal glances at you through the little view of you he had from around the corner.

Finally unable to resist any longer, Race approached you with a charming grin. “Y/N, you look stunning,” he murmured, his voice filled with admiration.

You blushed at the compliment, a smile gracing your lips. "Thank you, Race. You're not looking too shabby yourself."

At the theatre, the party was in full swing, so many people were there, everyone dancing and mingling. Never ones to say no to a dance, the boys quickly got comfortable twirling the two of you around, earning some rather impressed looks from onlookers and of course, compliments from Medda herself.

Race, though, was struggling. The crowd of people was so big that he made sure to stay behind you as you moved around. More than once, people would so carelessly bump into you, and consequently your ass would brush against Race’s lap, he’d wince to himself every time.

He had been unable to tear his eyes away from you all night, he couldn’t wait any longer. With a sense of urgency, Race finally pulled you aside from the bustling crowd, leading you to a side room that offered a moment of seclusion from the party. As the door clicked shut behind you, the noise from the party faded into a distant hum, leaving just the two of you.

“What’s up?” You asked. Race's hands found your waist as he drew you close, his eyes never leaving yours.

“God, I’m trying so hard not to rip that thing to shreds.” He huffed, his eyes desperately wandering over your dress.

You looked down to smile, you chose this dress firstly because you liked it, secondly because you knew Race would enjoy seeing you in it too. “What, you don’t like it?” You playfully teased.

“I hate it,” he shook his head, much to your surprise, “I didn’t know I could be so jealous of a bit of fabric but god, I hate that it’s wrapped around you and I’m not.”

“Race.” You mumbled his name with a smile.

His voice was husky and filled with longing as he said, “I’ve been trying to do this all night.” Without further ado, he closed the distance between you, his lips passionately claiming yours. His lips were warm and insistent, his hands tenderly cradling your face as if he couldn’t get enough of your taste. His hands crept their way down to your thighs, his way of saying ‘jump’.

He picked you up, you wrapped your legs around his waist tightly as he walked you towards the wall. Instantly you started squirming around in his grip, trying to get any sort of friction you could from him.

“Jesus, fuck,” He breathed out with a smile, “you’re no less desperate than me.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” You mumbled, placing your lips back on his, gripping his shirt as he put you down and fiddled to get his belt undone. He brought his fingers to his mouth, letting his saliva coat them, knowing this wasn’t exactly the longest he’d ever spent on foreplay. His arm tucked under the skirt of your dress, trying to find your underwear to pull to the side. To his surprise, his fingers immediately made contact with your skin, his body jolted forward into you at the feeling of his spit covered fingers being practically pulled inside of your pussy, almost sending him into oblivion. He just let out a smug chuckle as he worked his fingers inside of you, throwing his head back, not quite able to process how much he so desperately needed you.

You reached for his cock, holding your dress up around your waist, inviting him to fuck you already. He pulled his fingers from you, instead using his hand to bring the tip of his cock to your body, brushing it through your folds and into your body. You let out a sharp hiss as he immediately began to thrust, not giving you any time to adjust to his body. Messily, your hips grinded against his with every forward motion, the two of you whining and breathing down each others necks and into each others ears as he fucked you. He let out a growl as he lifted one of your legs up, giving himself better access. He brought his thumb to your clit, rubbing quick circles, while you choked back every scream and squeal that was trying so hard to surface from your throat. Your thighs trembled as he continued to rub your clit, he felt your body coat his cock in wetness as your walls contracted around him, your orgasm sending you forward into his chest.

“Oh fuck, baby,” he groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic and even quicker, “I’m gonna come.”

You fell to your knees in front of him, giving him your mouth release into, as nothing else would have been quite appropriate, considering you weren’t at home.

“Oh, good girl.” He smiled, his hand pumping himself. His other hand reached for the side of your head, holding you still as he filled your throat with his cum. He groaned in between breaths, emptying the last of his orgasm into your mouth. With one bob of your throat, you swallowed, looking up at him as sweat beads gathered on his forehead.

“Fuck, you’re so good, sweetheart, that’s my girl.” He helped you up, kissing you as you became eye level with him again. You stood there with him, both of you needing a moment to gather both your breath and your thoughts.

“I love you.” Race was the first to speak.

“I love you too,” you smiled, “we should probably find Jack and Katherine, they’re probably wondering where we went.”

Race laughed, tucking his shirt neatly back into his pants before doing them back up, “Alright.”

A/N IM SORRY IF THIS FEELS RUSHED it feels kinda rushed to me :,)

[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

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

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

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

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.”

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

[fireworkss-exe]

What if 92sies but Jack and Davy are wlw instead

[theres-no-escaping-us-pal]

for the newsies halloween thing

how do we feel abt fem davey jacob’s?

(or race or jack)

[mari-the-tortured-poet]

“love is annoying. love has a smug, punchable face. love needs to shut up before i make it shut up.”

✧ mari ♡ 17 y/o cryptid fem ✧ s.her ♡ biromantic asexual ✧

this is the void where i scream about stuff and mostly reblog! i’ve got tags for everything and i’m always happy to help out the easily triggered, so if you’d like to request a specific tag for content, please put it in my ask box. i also make moodboards for characters and ocs so you can request those too!

format vaguely stolen from @halucynator but i’m certain she’ll forgive me <3

dividers from @cafekitsune and the pics from pinterest

proud member of @goosecoven and @theboizgc

ABSOLUTELY everything to know about me ->

american (derogatory) // christian (the good kind, shouldn’t have to clarify but here we are😭) // scorpio // bday oct 25 // music lover and writer // fanfic consumer // local neighborhood ace with the dirtiest jokes // i swear like a sailor to offput certain men // spring supremacy tbh // avid disneyworld enjoyer and corporate disney hater 🤝 // conflict makes me itch but i’m a professional debator // singer and stuff i already said // dwdw if i hate you, you will KNOW straight up // a downbad schemer, evil even // call me a double A battery the way i be autistic and asexual // whump enjoyer and writer at times // i do rp on minecraft a lot // and then there’s chunky he’s DEAD

music ->

swiftie (taylor’s version) // k/da // heartsteel // itzy // everglow // blackpink in your area // little monster for mother monster gaga <3 // olivia rodrigo // chappell roan // Jesus was a Carpenter!!! // boygenius + julien + phoebe + lucy // naomi jon // kim petras // laufey // emei! // lyn lapid // precious jewel amor // derivakat // cg5 // reinaeiry // mave: MAKE A NEW WAVE!!!!! // dua lipa // not too enthused with new billie atm 😐 // emlyn // ive // the warning // dove cameron // tobymac // daft punk // britney spears // madonna // gracie abrams // malinda

movies & tv ->

miraculous ladybug aw yiss // vaguely intrigued in pokemon sun & moon // felix fathom and gladion mohn you are forever famous and not at all similar nono // mha bUT NO SPOILERS // murder drones // hazbin hotel // helluvaboss // tadc ragatha my beloved // saiki k // bungo stray dogs I’M NOT ONE OF T H O S E PLS // tangled the series NO SPOILERS // kimmy schmidt // schitt’s creek // the mindy project // atla // downton abbey // pride and prejudice miniseries with colin firth if you prefer the movie i’ll fight you // big bang theory // friends (rachel x joey supremacy ross can suck a 🍆) // star wars enthusiast // maleficent // guardians of the galaxy (what do you mean there are three movies??? there are only two uh huh….) // juno // the perks of being a wallflower // into the spiderverse + across the spiderverse // barbie // enchanted // hunger games // narnia // everything everywhere all at once // RAINBOW ROCKS // princess diaries // enola holmes // klaus // princess protection program // high school musical (no spoils for the series) // legally blonde // mean girls // frozen // alien stage!!! // project mc2 // the owl house

games ->

star guardians xayah x rakan truther // minecraft // sims 4 // prodigy // yandere sim (never played but want to)

broadway ->

wicked // moulin rouge (not the movie) // she loves me // jeremy jordan is God’s gift to earth have you even heard him giggle tho. have you // newsies // shrek the musical >>>>>>> // holiday inn // dear evan hansen // mean girls // anastasia URGH brainrot // six // heathers // mystic glen // frozen

books ->

keeper of the lost cities // the impossible quest // septimus heap // the land of stories // school for good and evil // narnia // artemis fowl don’t even TALK to me about the movie i’m still fuming // amulet // wonder // star of deltora // passerine

DNI: transphobes, zionists, aphobes, homophobes, bots or those that appear as such, potterheads, fatphobes, xenophobes, racists, pedos, and the like!

caution to my younger followers: this blog DOES contain sensitive content and language, but i’m not your mom so legally i can’t stop you. and if your mom doesn’t accept you or your identity, i’m adopting.

the boiz gc (my guys! my dudes! my homies) : @yaboieif // @princeteeb // @jingledbell

other faves: @halucynator // @ninadove // @demyxdancer // @emmafaeru // @pwippy

tagging system ->

#mari reblogs -> anything i reblog!

#mari rambles -> i talk sometimes

#mari rants -> i’m mad sometimes

#ask mari -> used for any ask games i reblog, the box is always open

#mari answers -> i answer sometimes

#mari fangirls -> i’m in fandoms sometimes

#mari’s mutuals -> i post about/with cool peeps sometimes

#mari and eifie/teeb/jingle/lucy/spes/etc. -> i post with specific cool peeps sometimes

#mari writes -> i write sometimes

#mari whumps -> i whump sometimes

don’t forget to do your daily clicks! in addition to palestinian freedom, there are so many other causes that arab.org has to support. i know esp as a minor without a solid banking situation that it can be easy to feel helpless when you can’t donate, but this is something meaningful without having to pay money that truly makes a difference!