#Knobs newsies

[newsies-squared]

Our top 5 newsies Charcthers

🗞 : 📰:

1. Oscar. 1. Davey

2.blink 2. Jack

3.knobs 3. Jojo

4.mush 4. Barney Peanuts

5. Smalls 5. Mike

[littlelostmabari]

The Wrath of Talos

Happy birthday, BG3! I didn't have anything prepared so I decided to offer a snippet of what could be for Irradessa and Gale after A Touch of Darkness... but it's reader-insert today because that's the vibe I had going.

For the beautiful and wonderful @alpydk, @miradelletarot, @sorceresssundries, @the-real-housewives-of-waterdeep, @gale-force-storm

(continuing the list bc Tumblr is being silly) @mumms-the-word, @weaveandwood

(divider here)

Pairing: Gale x gn!Reader [SFW, angst, hurt/comfort] CW: violent storm imagery, nightmares, PTSD, anxiety/panic Word count: 1.4k

You are a chosen of Talos, and you know that storms are not meant to be enjoyed — only feared. Gale promised to be home before the storm reached the tower, but he's not here and you're forced to prepare for Talos' wrath yourself.

The thunder rolled in with the tide.

It was the storm of the age, if the newsies at the corner in the market could be believed. Anyone with windows facing the water was buying up plywood or protective charms, often both, and storing enough food to get through the next ten-day in case the diviners at Blackstaff were wrong about how terrible the storm would be.

If you were less occupied, you might wonder what the Blackstaff wizards were even doing to let such a storm strike the City of Splendors.

Instead, you were mirroring the terrified preppers and pulling everything you needed for a ten-day into a central room of the tower — one with windows that were only enchanted to reflect the outside weather instead of reaching the outside air. Water. Rations. You'd dragged a pair of spare bedrolls down onto the floor as well, since there was no way you would be able to heft the down mattress through the winding stairways. Sheets, though; those were perfect for covering the windows. Even enchanted, you doubted they were safe from His gaze. Tara found you with a medicine kit under one arm and a supply of canned fish under the other, just as the first rains began to fall.

"What in the heavens are you doing, my dear?" she squawked as you passed her by. Her tail poofed up, and she had to jump up to the staircase railing and flap her wings in indignation just to make room for you to pass.

"Storm," you said hastily, throwing the supplies into the room and then holding the door open for her. "Are you in or out? I'm closing up."

"You needn't worry about the weather, dear, the tower is enchanted six ways to Tenthday. There shan't be any —"

You slam the door behind you and lock it and slide a chair into place beneath the knob. It doesn't matter how many charms Gale has put upon the bricks of this tower, nor whether or not the room you were sitting in was in fact in the Prime Material Plane. You knew better. If He willed it, Talos would have His due.

Storms were never something to be enjoyed, they were only ever something to hide from. Lightning was a weapon, thunder the rolling hooves of steeds approaching with armaments. Sleet and rain was meant to limit vision, clouds meant to prevent sun- and moon-lit protection. You'd served the Lord of Storms for long enough to know that not even his faithful were safe when his ire was raised.

You double check the ties on the windows, fluff up a pair of pillows, and settle in to wait with the sending stone clutched between hands, knuckles white with fear.

----------

He had promised to be home before the storm hit, and the rain on his face and hood is a pounding reminder that he had broken that promise. It was the night after the rains began, and he worries what he would find at home. He bounces between the balls of his feet which squish in the traveling boots not meant for the flash flood he had just waded through. One more thing. It was always one more thing.

A password is uttered too loudly so to be heard over the roar of thunder. A flash of an uneasy smile. An exchange of coin. A waxed bag to hold the raging waters back from pages that would undoubtedly crumble at the first sign of liquid. He had it.

He had to get home.

Gale turns his face up to the clouds above, brown eyes lit up under the heavy gray hood with a burst of lightning from not but a hundred yards away. He clutches the waxed leather bundle tightly to his chest and reaches out a hand. The Weave is only a breath away.

He says your name, takes a deep breath, and teleports home.

----------

Your nightmare is one you have had before. For as many times as you have been here, the landscape is still unfamiliar. Sand-like granules fall underneath your feet as you trudge through a cemetery of upturned obsidian shards. They vary from inches to hundreds of feet tall, and you can only see them with flashes of lightning that strike the tips of them irregularly.

The taste of ozone on your tongue means one thing, and you dive into the sands just in time for a bolt of electricity to instead strike the obsidian shard next to you. It alights with Weave and you glance up to see yourself — prone and pathetic — staring back at you with eyes full of the same lightning that threatens to strike you down. Your reflection stands easily and tilts its head, grinning as they snap a hand to the side and wrangle the next lightning bolt into a spear of sparking blue.

Then the sight is gone and you're left staring into the black glass at your regular reflection, still on the ground and covered in black and brown sand. With the next strike of lightning comes rain, and the sound of someone screaming. Another, and the scream turns into your name, and you find yourself turning towards the sound because that sound means safety and comfort and another thunderous boom, this time without lightning, and the sand reaches up your legs and begins pawing at your waist and shoulders and hands and face and you can't breathe and

Your eyes fly open into darkness, the lights of the room snuffed out by the magic swirling in the air from your connection to Talos. The chair under the door handle has flown across the room, the doors themselves blown off their hinges and now open to the tower. You try to move to remedy, to protect your safe space, your sanctum, but the blankets and bedroll won't let you up. You scramble against them, and they call for you to stay, to calm, to be safe, you're safe, you're safe, my love you are safe!

You recognize that voice. Your eyes drift back to coffee hair and chocolate eyes and olive skin and your face is wet and he is soaked and everything around you is spinning and your forehead finds his shoulder and you crawl as far into him as you can and you weep.

----------

An eternity later, you let go of Gale only long enough for him to shrug off his traveling gear and prestidigitate the moisture from the rest of his clothing. You don't mind that he still smells of his travel. He is home.

Your home is home.

"I am so sorry, my love," he murmurs into your ear as he wraps arms around you once more. He has moved you over to one wall away from the doors or windows, so that he can lean back and hold you across his lap. Your tuck your face into the side of his neck and stifle the next sob. "To say I was delayed is an understatement and ignores the very reality that I promised I would be at your side when the storm front reached the tower. You should never have needed" — you feel him intake a quick breath as if he his holding his own tears back — "I am so terribly sorry that I was not here to protect you from this."

He rocks you in his arms, back with the inhale and forward with the exhale and presses kisses against your forehead and your hairline. He continues his murmurings of how brave you have been and how awful that nightmare seemed and oh how safe you are tucked away in this tower where, with a wave of his hand, the now-unadorned windows show a moonlit night over a field of white flowers blowing in an unseen breeze. You don't see the doors repair and close by themselves, nor a fluffy tail and feathered wings disappearing as they do so, her contribution to your state of mind complete. In here, the winds cannot be heard, the thunder cannot be felt, the lightning cannot flash across your skin. There is only the smell of petrichor and beard oil, the flavor of rosewater Weave, and the arms of your beloved surrounding you.

[youaintnothinbuta]

Fuck it out - racetrack higgins x reader

Summary: you and Race cannot get along. You fight and fight and fight— finally you get on Jacks last nerve and he shoves the pair of you into a room and won’t let you leave until your issues are solved. You and Race end up fucking the frustration out.

Pairing: fem!reader x Racetrack Higgins

Word count: 2000 (it’s worth the read though ladies, I promise)

Warnings: SMUT, unprotected sex, coarse language, angst, arguing

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Race loathed you more than anyone in the world, and the feeling was entirely mutual. It was a deep-seated animosity that festered between you two.

He hated the way he could hear your laugh over anyone else’s. He hated the way you walk into a room and suddenly everyone’s eyes are glued to you. He hated how your arguments left him feeling exposed and vulnerable. Most of all, he hated the way you teased him.

From the moment the pair of you laid eyes on each other, you just utterly despised each other. All the Newsies knew it. At first, they tried to mediate the situation, to convince you both that the other wasn't as unbearable as you thought. It didn’t help though. Now, plan A was keep you two separated, and if that plan failed, plan B was to not leave you alone together, and plans C through Z were to simply ignore your arguments and let you two yell at each other.

You did feel guilty, of course, for putting your friends through that. The arguments- that is. You just couldn’t help it— you couldn’t see how no one else was this bothered by him.

This day, you and the newsies -including Race- were hanging outside the lodge. It was a nice day, late afternoon, sunny but not too hot, everyone was laughing and messing around like they always did. Everyone was enjoying themselves, except you and Race, who were predictably at each other's throats, bickering, it was a constant competition to see who could say the most hurtful thing to the other. Jack, who was sitting next to you, sighed heavily.

“I’m getting desperate. Please, just stop fighting for once.” Jack’s hand reached for your wrist.

“Tell him that to him then, not me!” You pointed accusingly at Race, who found it quite amusing that Jack’s telling-off seemed directed more towards you.

“Hah! See! Told you you’re the problem!” Race snickered.

“Enough!” Jack shouted, standing up. His one hand gripped onto your wrist again, the other found a handle on the back of Race’s shirt collar. He pulled you both off of your asses and dragged you up the steps and into the housing lodge, yelling at everyone to get out of one of the rooms as he shoved the pair of you in there.

“I am sick and TIRED of this. I’m done! Grow up and figure your shit out, there is no reason why you need to be fightin’ all the time. I don’t care what you need to do, yell it out, fuck it out, fuckin’ beat it out of each other- Just make it stop!” He slammed the door behind him as he exited, leaving you and Race to stare at each other like embarrassed little kids that had just been told off in front of their classmates.

You immediately went for the door knob, but to no avail. Jack must have taken one of the door stops and kicked it underneath, locking you in. Didn’t matter. You knew Jack, if you got out he’d just drag you back in again until everything was resolved. And what was that he said?

You just stood, back leant against the door, watching Race peek out the window to see Jack back down with the Newsies. It did sort of hurt him to see how much happier everyone looked the second you two weren’t around. You stood for a while, without moving, so did he, neither of you knowing what to say or do.

“I ha— I hate that we bother them so much.” He muttered, breaking the silence, still looking out.

You paused, momentarily taken aback. Race had just said something you actually agreed with? Unheard of.

“Me too,” You spoke quietly, peeling your back off the door, making your way over to Race. As you joined him at the window, your intent was to see what the boys were doing outside. He occupied most of the space in front of the window, leaving you at his side, your shoulders lightly brushing against each other. Your focus shifted from the view through the glass to the view beside you. You found yourself watching Race’s face with a newfound intensity, your gaze tracing the lines of his features as if you were seeing them for the first time.

You took note of the subtle curve of his lips, the way they naturally sat in a slight smile. Your eyes moved lower, and you couldn't help but appreciate the defined edge of his jawline.

Race could feel your stare. His gaze shifted to meet yours. His eyes locked onto your face as he too began to study your features. It was a silent exchange, a dance of mutual observation that sent a shiver down your spine.

You watched his eyes move down your face, tracing the contours of your neck, before returning to meet your gaze. The intensity in his stare was palpable, yet still so gentle, and you couldn't deny the way it made your heart rate increase.

The two of you lingered in front of each other, locked in an unspoken exchange, carefully observing each other's features as the space between your bodies continued to dwindle.

His eyes drifted shut, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of anticipation. Was Racetrack Higgins about to kiss you? And more importantly, why weren't you doing anything to stop it? Your heart raced as your own eyes fluttered closed, surrendering to the magnetic pull that seemed to draw you closer, until your lips met his, bridging the gap between you. His hand instinctively sought out the small of your back, pulling you even closer to him. Your fingers wove into his hair as the kiss deepened, and Race couldn't help but release a soft, involuntary moan. The sound made you laugh against his lips.

He gripped your hips in response, pressing them into his, letting you feel his growing bulge, dragging you over him. You let out a needy cry, it was his turn to laugh at your desperation.

With a sense of urgency, your fingers began to undo the buttons on his shirt. Race responded to the rising passion between you by swiftly pushing you against the wall, his desire growing more intense. Sensing your hesitation with the buttons, he decided to take matters into his own hands, pulling his shirt over his head. His undershirt came along with it, dropping to the floor beside his feet.

Your gaze lingered on the enticing sight before you—the defined contours of his chest, the sculpted muscles inviting exploration. He watched you with a smile as you studied him, thinking it adorable the way you unconsciously bit your bottom lip. You couldn't resist the temptation to trace your fingers along the lines of his torso, feeling the warmth and strength that lay beneath his skin.

As his fingers traced a fiery trail up your legs, your hands reciprocated his movements, gliding over his back and savoring the warmth of his skin. The intimacy of the moment deepened as you kissed and gently sucked on the tender skin of his shoulders, his fingers tugged at the seam of your panties, wanting a feel of the fabric that had been rubbing against you.

“All because of me?” He looked up at you, grinning as the pad of his fingers glided across the slick that had coated your underwear.

“You’re not one to talk.” Your hand reached between his thighs, cupping the bulge in his pants, his mouth fell agape at the feeling of your hand against him.

He scoffed, laughing, before attacking your neck softly with his lips, his tongue dragging over the curve of your jaw. He nipped lightly at the skin of your neck, moving a little each time, searching for the spot that would—

“Oh.” You sighed.

Found it.

You dropped your face to reconnect your lips to his, the pad of his thumb pressed into where your clit was located below your underwear. He felt you nip at his lip at the action, tugging at it as another moan slipped from your mouth.

“You here to fuck me or tease me?” You mumbled between kissing him.

“I dunno, teasing you is kinda fun.” He smiled.

“Don’t think I’ll beg for you. I won’t.” You snarked as you nipped at his ear, kissing his jaw. He let you continue to place hot kisses all over his neck and jaw, taking the opportunity to get his pants off from around his waist, dropping his underwear with them. You felt the warm, soft skin of his cock against your thigh, a small gasp escaping your lips as you looked down at what your body was about to take in. He dipped a finger inside of you, then another, preparing you for him.

“Race.” You sighed his name, asking him to hurry up. Race’s fingers were soaked as he pulled them from your core. The tip of his cock slid between your folds, being coated by your juices as he pushed inside of you. Race didn’t care to hold back the volume of his groan as he felt your body stretch around him. Your eyes squeezed shut as you breathed out, god, any more of him and you’d be torn in half.

Race took a thumb to his mouth and collected a string of saliva on the tip of it before bringing it to your clit, drawing small circles, trying to replace your discomfort with pleasure.

He struggled to pull out of you, your walls so tight they practically sucked him back in, slowly he pushed back inside of you, picking up the pace slightly with every thrust. Both of your eyes were fixed on the sight of his body pushing into yours, until he looked up at your face, making your cheeks burn red as the realisation of what you were doing set in.

“Does it make you nervous when I stare, hm?” He cupped your face. Your mind was racing, never in a million years would you have considered Race to be gentle. The tip of his cock slammed against your cervix, releasing a series of angelic moans from you. His fingertips curled around either side of your hips, gripping you as he continued thrusting into you to hit that exact spot again and again, and he felt your legs begin to shake against his own.

What the hell? How was someone like him bringing you to orgasm this quickly? It took you longer on your own.

Race had barely even begun to feel his orgasm build, and already he had you on the verge of release. He seemed just as perplexed as he felt your walls begin to contract and spasm around him. The cry of his name and the way your body became limp as he held you against the wall, he knew just as you did- it took only minutes to get you off. The way your pussy gripped his cock during your release made it almost impossible for him to move, not that he wanted to, it felt far too good. He watched your face as pleasure rolled through your body, jolting you forward periodically.

His lips brushed over your flushed chest, your pussy loosened its grip on him, and he left you no time to breathe before going back to thrusting himself in and out of you. You caught him off guard when grinding against him, pushing his cock deeper inside of you for him. You took in every detail of his face. The swear that started to bead around his hairline, the way his jaw hung slightly open with focus, the blush that was creeping up his ears, the way his eyes seemed an even brighter blue when they were so full of lust. Even through all your hatred for him, you couldn’t deny how he beautiful he looked while railing you.

He couldn’t hold on much longer but he’d be damned to give you the satisfaction of knowing how quick you could make him cum if he wasn’t trying to keep his composure. Your legs were threatening to give out on you. If it wasn’t for his grip on your waist holding you flush against the wall you might have collapsed into a heap of convulsing pleasure at his feet. Your now not-so-swallowed moans increased, there wasn’t any hope for trying to choke them back. Race had ruined every moral you had that day. His moans began to mix with yours.

“Look at me.” He mumbled, you didn’t even realise your eyes had closed. His hazed filled eyes bore into yours, the pleasured smirk that painted his face was only ruined by his own groans. It was too much. Too much pleasure. Too much hatred. Too much desire. Race shoved a few more erratic thrusts into you before pinning the skirt of your dress around your waist and spurting his cum out onto your thighs, a string of satisfied moans coming with it. He watched as his hot come dribbled down your thighs, taking a thumb to rub some of it against you, feeling his seed coat your soft skin.

The room that was just engrossed by moans and whines and sex was now left with the quiet sound of heavy breathing.

Your body trembled with residual pleasure as you tried to comprehend what the hell just happened. You hated Race; yet he was the one who left you so full of pleasure and indulgence you couldn’t even think straight. He took a step away from you, giving you some space as he caught his breath. You breathed out, your legs unsteady as tried to take a step forward.

Race chuckled, re-approaching you, wrapping an arm around your head, pulling you into his chest and placing a kiss on the top of your head.

You, too, let out a shy laugh, he tried to hide a grin as he pulled his pants back up.

He raised an eyebrow at you, “You look like you live in a bawdy house.” He quipped, tossing a shirt off the floor to you to wipe yourself clean.

“Should I remind you who just came all over me?” You argued.

“Should I remind you how quickly you came?” He retorted, laying on his bed, an arm extended inviting you to lay with him. What the hell was happening? Race Higgins had just fucked the daylight out of you, went immediately back to arguing with you, and now was holding you as you laid on his chest.

You didn’t say anything as you laid together. You felt gross. Not internally. Physically. Like your underwear felt soaked against you- and not in a sexy way.

“You alright?” Race asked, feeling your sigh sink into his chest.

Why did he care?

“My own bodily fluids are squelching against me. What do you think?”

He chuckled, “Someone’s grumpy. Was one orgasm not enough?” He teased, reaching his hands down to push your underwear off of you. You sat up in shock, thinking for a moment he was going for round two.

“Relax, just getting these off so you’re a bit more comfortable.” He pulled them off your ankles and dropped them on the floor, his hands finding your back, guiding you back down to lay on him again.

He reached for his comforter, pulling it up to cover your back. “You just relax, sweetheart. I know you’re probably tired.”

Why was he caring for you? Why was he looking after you? God, you hated him. You hated how this was the safest you’d ever felt. Your expression on your face loosened as your mind drifted further and further from consciousness, your eyes slowly closing as the rhythm of his breathing underneath you lulled you into a nap. He too, with the comfort of your weight on his body, was able to drift off into a nap, forgetting entirely about the fact that Jack and the rest of the newsies were just downstairs.

[brooklynbadboys]

Every canon Newsie post UKsies

I know there’s already lists, but they don’t include uksies and i wanted to make an up to date list for reference

Albert [DaSilva]

Barney Peanuts

Boots

Bumlets

Buttons (Benjamin Davenport)

Crutchie/Crutchy [Morris]

Davey [Jacobs]

Dutchy

Elmer

Finch (Patrick Cortes)

Henry [Butler]

Hotshot

Ike

Itey

Jack [Kelly] (Francis Sullivan)

Jake

Jojo (Josephino Jorgelino de la Guerra)

Kenny

Kid blink

Knobs/ Coffee Bean

Les [Jacobs]

Lucky

Mac

Mike

Mud

Mush

Pie Eater

Pips

Racetrack Higgins

Ritz

Romeo

Scope

Skittery

Smalls

Sniper

Snipeshooter

Snitch

Snoddy

Specs

Spike

Splasher

Splint

Spot Conlon

Stray

Swifty

Tenpin

Tommy Boy

Tumbler

Vince/ Myron

Willie /Bart

York

I believe that’s everyone from Hard Promises (original 1991 script), Newsies 1992, Broadway and Newsies live, and Newsies UK

[the-real-spot-conlon]

For the Sprace one-shot prompts: Spot coming down with a really bad fever or something of the like and just refusing to look after himself, so Race has to step in for him :)

This is such a good request! This is my first newsies fic so it may not be very good but here you go!

Spot lay on his couch, head spinning from his fever. He nearly dozed off to a sick slumber when he heard a knock on his door. "Come in!" Spot shouted, not being able to muster the energy to open the door. Spot heard a key jangle in the door knob and a few seconds later, Race and his goofy smile entered. "What do you want Higgins?" Spot groaned, leaning his head back onto the couch. "God you look like hell" Race joked, trying to lighten the mood. "Oh yea nice to see you too Higgins. Hey what do you have in your hands?" Spot motioned to the three bags in Race's hand. "I have soup, medicine, and games!" Race lifted the bags onto the counter and started messing around the kitchen. Spot heard the pots and pans clinking against one another, and finally decided to get up. "Higgins? What are you doing to my kitchen." Spot asked as he sat himself on an unused part of the counter. "You're sick, and I damn well know that you weren't gonna do anything about. Also, it's our kitchen, not yours." Race added, as he chopped up green onions to put in the soup. "Higgins, I know how to take care of myself. I don't need ya mothering me." Spot exclaimed, but Race wasn't gonna hear it. "Spot if I hadn't known you were sick from how you looked while sellin, you probably would have just sat in agony, all alone. I'm gonna take care of you, and you're gonna like it." Race shot back as he added more things to the soup. Spot just made a disapproving grunt as he layed down fully on the counter now, not caring if he was in Race's way of cooking or not. Spot wasnt acting like it, but he really did love that Race had shown up prepared. "Thank you Higgins" Spot whispered while looking down, being uncomfortable with the vulnerability he was showing. "Huh? What was that? I didn't quite hear you!" Race teased, and spot threw a carrot at him. "Can you hurry up and finish the soup? I need to get better by tommorow so I can go back to work," spot complained, still spread out on the unused area of the counter. "Spot Conlon I swear to everything good in this world, you will not even be leaving this apartment tommorow." Race threatened, pointing a ladle a Spot, who shot his hands up in innocence. After Race finished the soup, he and Spot rested on the couch together, Spot's head lightly snoring blissfully on top of Race, as Race fiddled with Spot's red suspenders. "I love you" Race whispered, thinking Spot couldn't hear. "I love you too babe." Spot whispered back, his voice scratchy from being sick. The two cuddled on the couch watching movies for the rest of the day, Race holding Spot the entire time.

[emmedoesntdomath]

Coffee Bean!!!!!!

(Aka Knobs)

COFFEE. BEAN. ☕️

coffee bean actually didn’t get his name from the other newsies. no, he got it from jacobi- like, the guy who owns the deli they all go to? right, so coffee bean would ALWAYS ask about coffee. always. never buy any, but he would always ask the questions that no one else asks??? how do you make the coffee? where does coffee come from? how expensive is it? so on and so forth. eventually, jacobi was like, “relax, coffee bean-“ as a joke, but the other newsies thought this was hilarious. to the point that it was suddenly his name.

his actual name is matthew, but it used to be virginia (like the american state). but he hated that name, and hated being called a girl, so when he became a newsie, he told everyone he was a boy (because he was), and fuck you very much to anyone who said otherwise. they just shrugged, said okay, and that was that.

he’s friends with pie eater, and when people start questioning them about what they’ve eaten, he immediately defends him, or distracts them so they stop asking questions. he’s been there, too, and he knows what it feels like to have pressure on you about food.

he has two little sisters, named georgia and augusta (his parents really had a theme, okay- they were determined to be as american as possible so no one asked them about where they had come from) (georgia is another US state and augusta is the capital of the US state of maine). he’s three years older than georgia, and seven older than augusta, and they are his babies. he honest to god DREADS the day they get married, and he is determined to scare off as many boys as he possibly can.

his favorite color is green, because it reminds him of the fresh grass of central park when it’s springtime.

he knows how to sew pretty well, like buttons, so whenever newsies are in need of clothes, they tag-team it to make sure everything fits at least a little bit and there’s no major holes.

he’s good friends with crutchie, and they both share a specific type of gallows humor that freaks other people out. crutchie makes jokes about his leg (again, I will die on the hill that he gave himself his name), coffee bean makes jokes about wearing dresses and being a proper lady. it makes everyone else uncomfortable as hell, and it’s a great time.

also, coffee bean has a very weak immune system, and is prone to getting sick quickly, so sometimes he can’t sell. crutchie always stays back with him, and that’s how they became friends.

sometimes, he and henry get into food debates. albert chimes in with very odd opinions that actually do nothing to help the conversation, and les always adds a comment about his latest favorite food.

one time, he tried to start a coup against jack. not for any particular reason. he just wanted to see if he could.

[imperfectapollo]

From the texts prompts - [text] I found a door knob in my purse this morning, I hope whoever it belonged to doesn’t need it today.

Time for a real shitty thing! Also, yes. I had to mention one of the movie Newsies, Knobs/Coffee Bean. (His nickname came from the time he stole the doorknob off of Snyder’s office. It was changed due to it’s double meaning)

Ace: So..I found a doorknob in my purse this morning, I hope whoever it belonged to doesn’t need it today. 

Zoomy Bitch: So that's where the fuck it fucking went. 

Ace: ?

Cowboy: Race is sick and refused to stay in his room.

Ace: So you stole the doorknob and put it in my purse?

Cowboy: Well, I didn't take it. 

Zoomy Bitch: I want my fucking freedom.

Ace: Who took it?

Cowboy: Why do you think one of Liam's nicknames is 'Knobs'? Idiot stole all of the fucking doorknobs back at the Refuge. Pissed off Snyder real good that day.

Zoomy Bitch: I want my freedom Jack. I will get my freedom Jack. You can't escape me.

Ace: I'll leave you to deal with that Jack. I've got work.

Cowboy: Oh fuck oh fuck. Kath please. He's fucking climbing out of his window. Please. 

Ace: Leave a message~

[newsiepedia]

Everything We Know About Coffee Bean

His nickname used to be Knobs, but was changed because of it’s double meaning (by the Newsies creators)

Originally got his name because he took the knobs off the door to Snyder’s office (Trading Card)

Knobs had two main meanings in 1899- skull and pimple. Poor Knobs probably thought his nickname was based off the former, when it was really referring to the latter. (Newsiesquare)

Is great at picking locks (Trading Card)

Is “a Jack Of All Trades”, so probably knows more useful robbery tricks

Was in the Refuge with Jack at least once (Trading Card)

Is an optimist (Trading Card)

Unless “Sees opportunity behind every door” was meant to be literal

Either likes coffee or has a lot of energy

Was played by Michael Fatica

Coffee Bean looks young, with curly brown hair and olive skin.

[funnyihope]

I hope this works cause I’m doing it on mobile. I saw you were looking for the back of Knobs’ trading card, so here it is!

(holy hell thank you so much????? you have no idea how much this helps me!!!)

[kid-blinks-eyepatch]

Sprace

Spots leg 🦵 🔥

-Sprace-

(Its movie versions bc i felt like it idk)

_race POV-

I whined sleepily when i felt Spot’s arms disappear from around me. He laughed softly and kissed just behind my ear

“Cmon Tony the bell’s gonna ring soon” He informed me. I whined again and rolled over to face him. I opened an eye sleepily and saw him grinning at me. He had himself propped up with an elbow. I whined and pulled hin down on top of me. He laughed

“Tony!” He laughed. We wrestled for a little bit before I settled with my head on his chest and my body curled up next to him. I looked around the room. If you could call it that. There had been two small rooms upstairs the way the Brooklyn lodge had been built. One was for the leader (Spot) and the other was, as Smokes had put it, to fuck in so they don’t traumatize the littles.

“We’re gonna have to get up in like five minutes Ton” he said, petting my hair

“Then we will- I want my cuddles” I replied, huffing. Spot rolled his eyes and kissed me lightly. I wiggled a bit so i was sitting up a bit more and then i saw his leg. 

Now Spot being Spot had a lot of scars. But i knew about almost all of them. I say almost all because his pant leg had gotten pulled up during the wrestling and i could see his left leg. The skin was sort of mottled, with raised lines scattered around it as well. It took up the entirety of his lower calf, and looked like it went higher up. How had I not noticed it before??

Spot looked up me, confusion evident on his face. The blond poked my cheek with his finger and I looked at him

“Yeah?” I asked

“Jus’ let it be” He replied, pulling me down “It’s old I promise”

“Wha- How'd you get it?” I asked him, He went silent for a moment, running a hand through my curls. He eventually just shrugged

“Was a long time ago- don’t matter” He finally replied. I wanted to argue, but the bell rang and Spot rolled out of bed. The sounds of the other Brooklyn Newsies waking up could be heard. I followed Spot and started to get dressed like we had many other times. I watched him out of the corner of my eye. He seemed alright, if a bit upset. 

“You alright Seanie?” I asked him, kissing the top of his head.

“Yeah Im okay” He replied, kissing my cheek before going downstairs. I slipped on my shirt and followed. It was a pretty familiar sight that greeted me. The littles were up and bouncing off teh walls as always while York was attempting to change his shirt with Graves clinging to him. Smokes was trying to herd the littles while Dice was laughing uncontrollably. Knobs had his arms wrapped around his partner's waist while he tried to get a little more sleep. Dice rolled their eyes and shook their boyfriend.

------

I looked at Graves as we were walking back. York had agreed (albeit very grudgingly) to help Dutchy with the littles so Graves had gone selling with me. I glanced at him as he walked alongside me. The two of us got along wel, we had similar personalities ourselves, and our boyfriends also had similar personalities.  We got back to the lodge fairly quickly as we hadn’t gone too far selling. 

It had been ominously dark and cloudy all day, so most of the newsies didn’t want to go too far in case they got caught in the rain and developed a cold. That was never any fun at all. We entered the lodge to find it mostly full. The littles (which Brooklyn had a large amount of) were all either playing a game of stick tag or just plain rough housing. Knobs was lying face down with his head in Dice’s lap. Dice running a hand through the other’s sandy curls. I didn’t pay much mind to the other couples or the poker game going on.

 I watched as Graves went over to York, who was absentmindedly pushing a few marbles around on his bunk, and flopped into his lap. The older boy rolled his eye affectionately and kissed him lightly. I went upstairs in search of Spot. He was lying on his bed, looking up at the ceiling. He half-sat up when I entered and he smiled slightly. I grinned and snuggled against him, he put an arm aro I grinned and snuggled against him, he put an arm around Me and I hummed happily

“Looks like it’s gonna storm” I said to him, taking his other hand and playing with his fingers. He laughed slightly 

“Yeah it does” he frowned “I seriously hope it doesn’t though, I’m too tired to calm down everyone” I gasped, feigning shock

“Did you just ADMIT you’re tired????” He cuffed the back of my head and after a short internal debate I moaned. He gave me a withering look and I broke down in a fit of hysterical giggles. He frowned slightly

“It’s not that funny Antonio”

“It is” I hummed, snuggling against him more. The arm that was around me started to play with my hair. I hummed and snuggled more into his side. Spot started to whisper in Spanish to me and I -surprisingly- found myself getting sleepy 

——————

I guess I must have fallen asleep for a bit because when I awoke next I was alone in Spot’s bed. He must have tucked me in because I was wrapped in his blankets. I snuggled down into them, they were warm. As I slowly woke up I registered the sound of pouring rain. I groaned and stood up, looking out the window. It was cloudy, with rain falling everywhere. 

There was a loud boom of thunder that made me jump. I padded downstairs to the main room. The clock said it was only 7:18, but it was summer so it was usually still light out by now. Dice, Dutchy, and Hotshot were all playing a game of cards. Hotshot and Dutchy seemed unbothered by the thunder and lightning, while Dice would jump anytime there was a thunderclap. Knobs sat next to Dice, his chin resting on Dice’s shoulder.

Smokes was talking to the majority of the littles, presumably telling them a story. Ace was holding tightly onto his boyfriend’s waist, not appreciating the storm. I watched as Smokes put a blanket over Ace and pet his hair. Graves was sitting in York’s lap. The larger boy had his arms around Graves’ middle and his face buried in Graves’ neck. Snoddy was comforting a few terrified littles, patting their backs and such. 

As i looked around i didnt see spot. I looked at Dice, who was nervously fiddling with the small pouch they kept their dice in. 

“Dice?” I asked “You seen Spot?” 

“He went upstairs while you were looking around” came the reply. I blinked, laughing slightly at the mix-up.

“Alright- thanks” I laughed. Dice nodded in response and returned to the game. I glanced over at them one more time and I noticed Knobs was holding their hand, the other arm around their waist. I smiled softly as i went upstairs. 

“Hiii seanie” I grinned as i walked into his room, closing the door “I thought you was downstairs” I said as I turned to face him. He nodded, not replying. I shrugged it off as him being tired and I flopped onto the bed next to him. He glanced down at me, he had that expression on his face where you KNOW something’s bothering him, but you can't figure out what. 

“You okay?” I asked him, pressing a small kiss to his lips. He shook his head, pulling me against him and buryinghis face in my chest. I pet his hair

“Is it the storm? Too loud?” I asked. He shook his head again. I started to run my hands through his shaggy hair. He needed to get it cut soon, I knew he didnt like when it got too long. It wasnt like super long anyways but he wasnt a fan of it.

“S m leg” He mumbled, leaning into me more. I squeezed him against myself, rubbing my hand up and down his back

“Does it hurt?” I asked him softly. He shook his head and started to shake slightly. It took me a minute before I registered that he was crying! I kissed the top of his head, running a hand through his hair again

“S- I-” he managed, his voice shaking along with him “I look like a fucking  monster Ray!” He managed, squeezing me. I continued to run a hand through his hair, enjoying how soft it was. 

“no you don’t spotty” I assured him, stroking his hair and holding him. he continued to shake and he let out a small sob. 

“s-s-s-” He stammered out, shaking violently. Thunder boomed and he yelped, jumping befor hiding his face in me.

“shhh shhh” I murmured “it is okay spotty. You don’t look like a monster”

“i-i-i-“ Spot sobbed “i do Ray- stupid fucking fire fucked up my fucking leg” he whimpered 

“what fire?” I murmured to him, confused. He just shook his head and continued to shake. I carefully picked up s blanket and attempted to pry him off of me. He squeaked and hid his face more

“shh its okay im just gonna put a blanket around ya” i murmured to him, petting his hair. He sniffed and nodded, wiping off his face with the back of his hand. I wrapped him in a blanket and held him against me. he sniffed and looked up at me. I hummed and wiped the tears off his face.

“s-s” he let out a choked noise, face scrunching up as he attempted to speak “fires the reason- reason m here”

I froze for a second. He hadn’t ever talked about why he was in Brooklyn when he was so clearly an immigrant. i kissed his hair

“how so?”

“killed Pa” he mumbled “an Charlie an Austin an Julia” his voice rose in pitch as he spoke, i could see him getting more and more visibly upset. I hugged him against my chest tighter. he hid his face more. I rubbed his back

“i hate to ask” I said gently 

“s fine” he mumbled

“what do you mean?” I asked him softly. I had completely forgotten about the storm until that moment. There was an almost blinding flash of lighting.The thunder was extremely loud, loud enough to the point where you can feel it in your chest. Me and Spot both jumped, I let out an involuntary squeak, and shouts could be heard from below. Spot latched onto me and spoke shakily

“I- there was a fire” he said slowly “an pa an Charlie an Julia got caught inside” he shook “me, ma an Austin got outside- but Austin didn’t last much longer” he sniffled, burying his face “m’leg got caught’fore we made it out an thas why s all scarred up”

“okay” i kissed the top of his head “thank yiu for twlling me” I had plenty of questions for him, but he wasn’t in a condition that i wanted to ask him questions in case i uoset him more. I just set him down on the bed and he whined, wiping his face clumsily as he shook slightly. I didn’t know if he was cold, scared, or upset. I rolled him up in the blanket and he laughed slightly, smiling a bit. i grinned and tucked the now- burritoed Spot under another blanket. he pouted slightly and stuck out his tongue 

“at least come lay with me” he huffed. he was shaking less. maybe he was just cold. He seened ti have calmed down fairly quickly. I laid down ynde the blankets next to him and pulled my boyfriend against my chest

I carefully wiped off his face, kissing his cheeks where the tears had been. 

“you’re very pretty” *i murmured to him, wiggling until i was comfortable “and cute and perfect”

he just rolled his eyes in response, but he smiled a bit more and nuzzled against me. another thunderclap made ups both jump, but it wasn’t as loud as the last one.

“Try and get some sleep” I murmured to him

“okay” he replied, closing his eyes. I carefully kissed his eyelid and he snickered a bit “feels tickly” he informed me. i giggled and squeezed my burrito of a boyfriend

“I love you Sean Patrick Conlon” I hummed “you’re my pretty boyfriend” I kissed the top of his head and i saw what small amount of his face i could see redden

“Love you too Antonio Edward Higgins-Conlon” he giggled slightly. I huffed

“stoppp i knoe what you’re laughing at!”

“eDwArD” he giggled softly. I rolled my eyes and huffed

“Patrick isn’t exactly cool either”

“eDwArDo!” he snickered. I rolled my eyes

“shut up Conlon” I huffed, then looked at him, realizing something “did you call me Higgins-Conlon?”

“maybe” he replied, snuggling against me. I hummed and kissed him again. he smiled

“love you Race”

“I love you too Spot”

[newsies-squared]

Newsies name comparison's

So obviously everyone has different headcanons for the newsie characters names and even gender identitys,here's the difference between me and stillts headcanons.

Stilts:

Jack Kelly (He/Him)

David jacobs(he/him)

Race: Luca Higgins (He/Him)

Crutchie: Evangeline Morris (She/They)

Spot: Sam Conlon (He/Him)

Specs: Benji Samuels (They/Them)

Romeo: Rowan De Jesus (He/Him)

Buttons: Brielle Davenport (She/Her)

Sniper: Noelle Wah (She/Her)

Smalls: Tessa Davidson (She/Her)

Roxy Jacobs (Trans Fem Les) (She/Her)

Katherine Plumber-Pulitzer (She/Her)

Sarah Jacobs (She/Her)

JoJo: Josephia Jorgelina de la Guera (She/Her)

Micah Guzman (Genderfluid, so depends)

Ike: Issac Guzman (He/They)

Myron Hernandez (He/Him)

Elmer Kasprazak-Zas (They/Them)

Abby Dasilva (Trans Fem Albert) (She/They)

Henry Rios (He/Him)

Finch: Robin Cortes (She/Her)

Tommy Boy: Theresa Domeski (She/Her)

Kenny: Kenneth Ellenbury (He/Him)

Hotshot: Peter Ferrari (He/Him)

Blink: Louis Batteli (He/Him)

Mush: Charles Skyes (He/Him)

Skittery: Richy Brooks (He/Him)

Boots: Grover Gibson (He/Him)

Bumlets: Eddie Livingston (He/Him)

Snipeshooter: Percy Harris (He/Him)

Dutchy: Levi Burns (He/Him)

Itey: Felix Mitchell (He/Him)

Odette Delancey (Trans Fem Oscar) (She/They)

Morris Delancey (He/Him)

Barney Peanuts: Ginny Scott (She/Her)

Snitch: Harley Brooks (He/Him)

Tumbler: Owen Glenn (He/Him)

Pie Eater: Max Livingston (He/Him)

York: Jasper Rowe (He/Him)

Joey Higgins (She/They)

Rafaela Storrs (She/Her)

Hildy Keller (She/Her)

Stray: Becca Bailey (She/Her)

Lucky: Dani Wildman (She/Her)

Splasher: Will Stelle (He/Him)

Splint: Lily Evans (She/Her)

Scope: Cherry Saroki (She/Her)

Ritz: Alyssa Moss (She/Her)

Pips: Kitty Cony (She/Kit)

Knobs: Dallas Bead (He/Him)

Mack: Jeanie MacDonald (She/Her)

And Here's mine

(Just to clear up there's 2 Mike's and 2 snipers due to a personal headcanon and technically there like 3 smalls and also 2 Splashers but I'm only adding leader of the bronx smalls and the older Splasher,I'll explain why I did this in a later post)

Jack kelly|he/him

David jacobs|he/him

Race:Diego Higgins|he/him

Crutchie: casey morris|he/him

Spot: Riley Conlon|any pronouns

Specs:linus willamsburg|he/they

Romeo:cosmo howard|he/him

Buttons: Benji davenport|he/him

Sniper(queens):Nikola Alekseev|he/him

Sniper(Brooklyn): Elaine wah|she/her

Smalls(bronx): Enya Gallagher|she/he

Les:Leshem jacobs|he/him

(This is inspired by someone else here on tumbler I can't remember them for the life of me)

Kathrine pulitzer|she/her

Sarah: Sarahya jacobs|she/her

Jojo:Josephino Jorgelino de la guerra|they/he

Mike(Manhattan): mike sawyer|he/him

Mike: Miguel Cardoso

Ike: Isaque cardoso

(I believe the idea for Mike and ike's first names are from sparkedblaze on here but I'm not 100% sure)

Myron windsor|he/him

Elmer Ostrowski|he/him

Albert DaSilva|he/him

Henry day|he/him

Finch: patrick cortes|he/him

Tommy boy: carter Simeon|he/him

Kenny: Kenneth Phillips|he/him

Hotshot: Issac jones|he/him

Kid blink: Kesten Bennett|he/they

Mush: Gabriel Myers|he/him

Skittery: dakota riggs |he/him

Boots: Avery clive|he/him

Bumlets: noah lopez|he/him

Snipeshooter: Bernard Melvin|he/him

Dutchy: Ruben brouweer|he/him

Itey: Nicos franco|he/him

(OK the delanceys are next and so I headcanon them using "fake" names so I'm gonna include there legal names and there "fake" names)

(He/him)Oscar-

Legal name: Oskar Antosha Ehrlich

"Fake":Oscar Guillaume delancey

(He/him)morris-

Legal name:Maurice Pascal Ehrlich

"Fake":morris beau delancey

Barney peanuts: Emerson Truman|they/them

Snitch: Allen Sommers|he/him

Tumbler: Sanjay robbins|he/him

Pie eater: vernon Kingsley|he/him

York: Virgil smith|he/him

Joey: joesph Hudson|he/him

rafaela Haddad|she/her

Hildy: Hilda Swanson|she/her

Stray:Cheyenne willamsburg|she/her

Lucky: Della Patterson|she/her

Splasher(Brooklyn): William Steele|he/him

Splint: Cassidy Harrison|she/her

Scope: Juliet Tudor |she/her

Ritz: Lydia Harrison|she/her

Pips: sawyer Andrew|she/her

Knobs: Johannes Theodore Andersson|he/him

Mack: jeanie Macdonald|they/she

(Oh my God that took so long I'm going to explode, I know some of my names are really weird but my irl name is odd aswell,I don't know I'm tired)

[orange-nerd]

a newsboy's gotta have his tea curdled coffee

[jojodelaguerras-wooden-stick]

No one talks about Knobs enough

We need more Knobs

[hotcocoandmarshmallows]

Hey remember when I found a whole new Newsie completely by accident?

[tea-cryptid]

hey quick psa: i would die for knobs the newsie

[trickamxxidiot]

Musicals I know as Spongebob quotes

Hamilton: Remember licking “door knobs Maria” is illegal on other planets

21 Chump street: I love you

Dear Evan Hansen: Life is as extreme as you wanna make it

Be More Chill: And I am wearing 3 pairs of underwear right now

Six: “I’M UGLY AND I’M PROUD” -Henry

Little Shop Of Horrors: Welcome to the Salty Spitoon how tough are ya?

Mean Girls: oh boohoo let me play you a song on the world’s tiniest violin 

Newsies: THE WORLD IS UNFAIR, MR. PULITZER IS IN THERE. STANDING IN CONCESSION, PLOTTING OUR OPPRESSION