#spot conlons terf

[unofficially-racetrack]

GUYS I JUST FOUND THE ONE NEWSIES PICTURE IVE ABSOLUTELY NEEDED

[chaoticgremlinwholikescheese]

Queens and Kings

TW: violence, blood

SPOT’S POV:

Queens is a mean place. The people are even meaner. They’re as cut throat as a pirate, maybe even more so. Newsies usually have a code of honor. Morals that they follow. In Queens, morals get you killed. 

I wouldn’t work with Queens if I didn’t have to. But one of my tasks as the leader of Brooklyn is to work with other boroughs. That includes Queens. Their kids have been caught selling on Brooklyn terf. I gotta set them straight. We have boundaries for a reason.

“Ay. Who are you?”

I turn around. A gang of boys surround me. The one who called to me has a knife tucked in the waistband of his pants. They circle me like sharks. 

“You don’t recognize me?”

“Should I?”

“Spot Conlon. King of Brooklyn.”

I expect the boys to apologize, or at least leave me alone. They don’t seem to be scared. If anything it makes them even more blood thirsty.

“Brooklyn ain’t welcome here.”

“Don’t matter. I’m here to speak to your leader.”

“He doesn’t want to see you. I suggest you get out of here.”

I silently count the number of boys. There are about six of them, one of me. It doesn’t help that they have a knife on their side. 

“I’m not going anywhere until I talk to your leader.”

“Then we’re going to have to make you leave.”

The boys lunge. I elbow one of the boys in the face. He falls to the ground, clutching his nose. Another boy grabs me around my neck. I hook my ankle behind his knee and pull. He collapses next to me. Before I can get my bearings, a punch hits me square in the face. 

I feel a stabbing pain in my gut. Blood is staining my shirt. The boy is standing there, his knife stained red. He looks surprised. I swing my fist but he kicks my stomach. I go flying back with a groan of pain. Stars swim before my eyes and fire cuts through me.

The blows start raining down. One after the other, until they all blur together. The pain becomes a constant feeling. My vision goes in and out. I don’t know if I’m almost unconscious, my body shutting down to protect itself.

The kicks finally stop. I hear muffled laughter and words. Then silence. I slowly open my eyes. I can see pavement. There’s blood surrounding me. The streets is empty. I need to move. Need to get back to Brooklyn. Can’t die. Especially not here. 

I fall to the ground twice before I finally rise. Every step feels like lightning shooting through my veins. I place my hand over the stab wound. I can feel the warm blood flowing through my fingers. 

I just hope I can get back to Brooklyn in time.

RACE’S POV:

Sheepshead is an ideal selling spot. People are constantly coming and going, and a lot of them have just won some bets so their pockets are full. They’ll pay a good amount for a paper. 

“R-Race.”

I turn around. Spot is standing there. He looks horrid. Blood, both dried and fresh, covers his body. His teeth are stained red, bared in pain. Bruises are already forming on his skin. He has a hand on his stomach. Blood trickles over his fingers.

“Jesus, Spot! What the hell happened?” 

I run over to him. He collapses into me. I hoist his arm over my shoulder and take his weight. I need to get him back to the lodging house. Now. He staggers along with me, yelping in pain when I move too fast. 

We slowly make it back. I carry him up the stairs to his room. Luckily everyone is out selling. Spot wouldn’t want anyone to see him like this. I lay him down on the bed. His breaths are shallow, his skin pale. 

“Spot, take off your shirt.”

“Right now? I’m not r-really in the mood.” He starts to laugh but stops. I help him take off his shirt. I gasp when I see the cut. It’s jagged. Blood is still pouring from it. A lot of blood. Too much blood.

His torso is covered with bruises. Some are boot shaped. I gently feel his ribs. At least one is broken. More are probably fractured. 

“You’re going to need stitches for that cut. Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

“I’m fine, Race. I don’t need stitches.” He reaches for his shirt. He hisses in pain, halting his movements. “Don’t be an idiot. Let me help you.” I leave the room and quickly come back with the first aid kit and a bowl of water.

I dip a rag into the bowl. “This is going to hurt.” I gently squeeze some water over the wound. Spot bites his lip and sharply inhales. His hand tangles in the bed sheets. I thread the needle. I look at him for the okay. He nods.

I work as quick as I can. He barely moves. The only sound he makes is a quick gasp of pain. He won’t show any weakness, even like this.  I wind a bandage around his chest to keep his ribs in place. I wipe the blood off of his face. The water in the bowl soon turns red.

Spot won’t look me in the eye. He hasn’t said a word. Maybe it’s shame. He doesn’t like being seen as weak. Spot got to where he is by being tough. To a guy like him, showing any weakness is a mistake. 

“Are you going to tell me what happened?”

“Got jumped.”

“Yeah. By who? I need some names so I can go kick their asses.” Spot half heartedly chuckles. “I don’t know. Some kids in Queens. Six of ‘em. They fought dirty, caught me with a knife.” I take a seat on the bed next to Spot. He gratefully smiles at me. 

“You don’t have to keep your walls up with me, you know.” 

“Sorry. I forget how to let them down sometimes.” 

I grab his hand and squeeze it twice, just like I always do. 

“I should have fought better. I let a bunch of kids take me down.”

“It was what, six against one? And they had a knife? Doesn’t matter how tough you are, it’s not a fair fight.”

Spot slowly voices his worries. Mainly, he’s worried about his boys. He’ll have a hard time protecting them like this. I assure him that the rest of us will look out for them. 

“You may be the King of Brooklyn, but you don’t have to do everything alone. Your kingdom is right beside you.”

[livesincerely]

wait oh my god i’m going through old newsies stuff and came across that one post with davey as a brooklyn newsie!! got anymore thoughts on that?

Dude, I totally forgot about this!!!! I never got into the nitty gritty of planning it out—I must’ve gotten distracted by a different idea—but I can absolutely give you some of my thoughts and general Vibes.

So.

Canon era (obvs) with a POV that bounces back and forth between Jack and Davey. With maybe an interlude from Spot bc I think he’d have some hilariously dry commentary on the situation.

Background set up: Davey and Spot meet each other before Davey becomes a Newsie. I’m imagining Davey coming across Spot in some kind of bind and helping him out, no questions asked, not wanting anything, just because he’s kind. But Spot can’t let that stand, doesn’t want to be in anyone’s debt—“It’s not a debt if no ones collecting,” Davey insists, exasperated. Spot pretends not to hear him.—so he’s like, hey, if you ever need a favor, come down to the docks and ask for Spot Conlon. So, when Davey needs work, he goes to the Brooklyn Newsies instead of Manhattan

I’m also imagining that this version of Davey is leading a rougher life than canon Davey. His family is less well off and he makes the decision to stop going to school and start working several months before Mayer gets hurt, so he’s already been selling for a while when the canon timeline starts.

I love the idea of Jack and Davey meeting for the first time because they’re both trying to sell in the same spot.

“You can’t be sellin’ here!” Jack sputters. “This is Manhattan territory.” The other boy looks thoroughly unimpressed. “We’re standing in front of the Brooklyn Bridge,” he says, placing special emphasis on Brooklyn. “Yeah, the Manhattan side of the bridge,” Jack counters in the exact same tone of voice. “So you need to walk it back across the river, pal.” “I’ve been sellin’ here for weeks and no one’s said anything,” the other boy says with a frown. “Maybe you should be keeping a closer eye on your terf if you don’t want someone to take advantage of the opportunities you’re letting go to waste.”

And as far as first meetings go it could’ve gone smoother, sure, but it’s Jack and Davey and there’s that undercurrent of flirty tension right from the get go. Because Jack’s never met a situation he couldn’t charm his way out of but this boy with the dark hair and steady voice and killer blue eyes is just not buying it—always has a counter argument or a smart ass comment up his sleeve—and something in Jack’s brain just perks up goes... huh, interesting. And Davey’s heard of the infamous Jack Kelly and he thinks he knows what to expect from him, but Jack is so much more and so much less than the stories make him out to be. And he’s got those dark eyes and that playful smile and they’ve just met but he somehow manages to look at Davey like there’s nothing else in the world he’d rather be doing.

They’re both smitten right from the start but refuse to admit it. And everyone can see it.

“Who does he think he is, sellin’ outside his turf?” Jack continues, pacing back and forth. “Just setting’ up wherever he likes, bold as ya please, and he thinks no one’s gonna say nothin’ to him? He thinks no one’s gonna call him out?” Crutchie frowns. “Racetrack sells in Sheepshead almost every day—” “That ain’t the same thing,” Jack blusters, feeling the back of neck start to heat up.

Something something, they have a few more pre-strike encounters, then maybe the strike as told through these circumstances? Idk, like I said, these are just Vibes✨

Working title: ‘love at first sight’s for suckers’

00000

@reef-carnegie

[i-love-turtles11]

The day I met my love

Soulmate AU: When you meet your other half you see the world in color 

Summary: Race waited his whole life to meet the one. It just didn't turn out how he expected it too.

Warnings: Maybe a few swear words. kissing 

An: So this is my first fic that I’m writing. I hope you enjoy it! I apologize for any spelling or grammar mistakes

Words: 460

Spot Pov:

Ah yes, soulmates. The “love of your life.” your “other half.” It's all BS if you ask me. There is no way that I, Spot Conlon leader of the Brooklyn Newsies, has someone made for me. I’m not made for love.

Race Pov:

I have waited YEARS to find my other half, my soulmate. I watched as Jack and Davey fell more in love everyday. the same thing with Crutchie and the nice girl from the bakery downtown, i think her name is Kate. I’d be lying if i said i wasn't jealous of them.

I was walking to Brooklyn to deliver a message to Spot from Jack. I was nervous the whole way there. While I've never met him before, Spots VERY protective of his terf.  

As I walked to the Lodging House I ran into someone on the street, then the world exploded in so many beautiful colors. The reds, the yellows,the blues were all so beautiful. 

“I’m so sorry” I said as I looked into the man's beautiful brown eyes.

“It’s okay, I’m Spot, Spot Conlon” He replied with a smirk. 

“I’m Racetrack Higgins, but you can call me Race.” Then I remembered “Oh umm I have a message from Jack for you.” i told him nervously

“Oh thanks” he took the note I handed him “I think it's time for me to go, I’ll catch you later” Then he ran down the streets of Brooklyn, leaving me behind. How I watched as my one and only turned away from me. 

~time skip~

Its been about a week since Spot ran from me. I haven't told anyone about meeting my soulmate. I've been too embarrassed about it. 

As I was going down the back way to the lodging house, I was suddenly shoved against the wall in the alley. 

“Well well well, looks like it's an unlucky day for you” The unknown person whispered in my ear. I tried to fight back against him, but there was no hope.

Until he was ripped off of me and I looked up to see Spot Standing over him as he kicked him. I got up and ran over to him and I pulled him into a hug.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you” I whispered as i held him close 

“Hey, shhh it's okay, i've got you” he whispered back as he held me in his arms. “I’m sorry for running, I never thought I was made for love, but when I saw you I felt it and I was scared. please forgive me?’

“Of course I forgive you.” I looked him in his eyes again as he grabbed my face and slowly pulled me into a kiss.

And we lived Happily Ever After

The end 

[crutchie-with-a-y]

newsies oc- Cat Lonnoc

okay so I posted this awhile ago and i was sooo excited and then it didn’t get a lot of notes :’((( so since it is girlsie day of @newsiestober i thought I’d re post it because I really want more people to see it, and it’s about a badass girlsie, so pleeeeease enjoy!!

"What a goddamn day." Cat Lonnoc said as she climbed through the third story window of the Newsboys Lodging house. Now, had it been anywhere else, a thin girl with dark hair and deep-set eyes climbing through a window might be alarming, but not at the Lodging house. The newsies had grown accustomed to the small but fierce girl gliding through one of the many windows unannounced. She could climb anything, firescapes, trees, brick walls, and all in complete silence. And if she ever fell, which was very rare, she always seemed to land on her feet, earning her the name "Cat."

As she stepped into the room, Cat pulled her long, thick hair our of the French braids that traveled from her hairline down the back of her head, shaking it loose. Her hair bloomed like a dark, voluminous cloud around her head, then settling around her shoulders. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a chipped bit of mirror she often carried with her. She fluffed her hair as she checked her reflection. She had a small face, with suntanned cheeks and freckles dancing across her nose. Her chin was sharp and her jawline was quite defined, framing her deep eyes that were complimented by long black eyelashes that fanned like butterfly wings when she blinked. She puckered her thin, scarred lips and then stretched them into a wide grin to check for bits of lunch caught in her teeth. Once she was happy with her smile, she licked her fingers and swept them up her eyelashes to make them stick up more. She smoothed her eyebrows, her left one with a bit of a space from an old scar that started an inch or so above her brow and cut down her eyelid. Then, pulling a tiny yellow flower she'd been saving out from her other pocket and sliding it behind her ear, she winked at herself in the mirror and smirked with satisfaction. Was she feminine? Yes, but it was her greatest strength. It taught her how to grit her teeth and work hard and enjoy herself at the same time. If you saw the sixteen year-old girl on the street, a petite frame who's too-big clothes were adjusted to flatter her, the collar of her large shirt hanging low enough on her shoulders so you could see her collarbone and her trousers pulled up and pinned to show off her small waist under her vest, you'd probably be intimidated. And you should be. Her eyes could make anyone squirm with just a glance, and her graceful walk and ill-advised-to-mess-with vibe lead people to stumble to get out of her way, knowing just one look from the girl could run them over. From years on the street she'd learned that life was a  game of survival, and in playing that game Cat had become an incredible strategist. Through trial and error she taught herself that anything could be used as an advantage if you just looked at it the right way. For example, her size may have seemed to put her at a disadvantage when it came to combat, but to this newsie it meant using underestimation as a tool for surprise. The Delancey brothers could testify to the amazing speed and effectiveness of her small fists, which seemed to come from everywhere as she climbed up, over, and around the unfortunate soul who happened to get on her bad side. Cat also knew a pretty face combined with the right words could be used to get whatever one desired. Like most of the newsies, she could flirt up a storm to get her way, but she didn't want you. While many of her coworkers and roommates were out holding hands with someone special until late at night, romance had never come Cat's way, and frankly, she didn't give a damn. Life was a battle, in her view, and she didn't need the distraction.

"Just in time, Cat. Care for a round of poker?" Albert called, sipping from a mug of water while Crutchie shuffled and Race drummed his fingers on the coffee table the three sat around.

"Sure." Cat said, sliding off her shoes and socks and setting them on the floor beneath the window. The third floor of the lodging house did have bunks, but was mostly a common area for everyone when the manager of the lodging house went to bed on the first floor, as it was halfway up and halfway down. The walls were lined with bunks, leaving a small space in the center for a coffee table, where the three older newsies sat, as well as an ancient rocking chair, a small ratty sofa, and a big chest with lost socks and half-missing puzzles and decks of cards crammed in it. Some younger newsies sat swaying in the rocking chair and somersaulting around the chest and the couch, giggling as they played. Cat walked gracefully between bunks and into the clearing, the little kids chirping greetings at her. She smiled and winked back, heading over to a spot between Albert and Crutchie.

"My, somethin' smells delicious," Race joked, sniffing the air as Cat walked past.

"Too bad you won't be able to afford to eat when we're done here." She retorted, sliding up to the table. Race rolled his cigar around in his teeth while the other two chuckled. Crutchie dealed and the group began their game and a conversation about the day while the little kids laughed behind them.

"Do you have any liquor, Race?" Cat asked as she drew, about ten minutes into the game.

"Na," Race said, shifting his cards between hands. "Ran out 'round Spec's birthday I think."

"Damn it all." Cat said, and bit her lip as she looked at her cards.

"I'll go get some more tomorrow. Anything for y-" Race's teasing was cut off by a sharp noise at the window that startled the room. Cat was up and moving towards it before anyone else had time to react.

"What time is it, Crutch?" She said, not taking her eyes off the window.

"Uhhh, 'bout 11:30." Crutchie told her as the younger newsies ran over to curl up next to the older kids. "Awful late for a messenger ain't it?" It was agreed upon that if burrows needed to message each other, they had from 5am to 9:30pm. To talk to the Lower Manhattan newsies you had to throw something at the third story window, loud enough for them to hear, but not hard enough to break the glass or you would pay. So it was definitely another newsie, they were just disobeying protocall. Cat pushed open the window and stepped silently out onto the firescape.

"I'll be back in a sec guys." Cat said, looking back to the newsies watching her from between the bunks. She turned around and looked up to the roof where a silhouette of Jack was leaning over the side of his penthouse, peering out into the dark city street below. "I got it Jack." She whispered, he nodded, and leaned back to a more comfortable position on the corner of the roof. He knew she could handle it, but in case things got out of hand, which was quite unlikely, he'd be there for backup.

Cat and Jack were the best of friends, Race, Crutchie, and them had known each other since what felt like the beginning of time. She had come to the lodging house after Race and shortly before Jack and Crutchie showed up on the scene. Cat was usually considered Jack's first mate, or at least one of them. Everyone knew Jack Kelly, the face of the borough, but everyone talked about Cat Lennoc. She was a legend among the newsies of New York, her expert climbing and nack for manipulation was often whispered about, though most never had the distinct honor of meeting her. Cat was a pretty private person, preferring to work alone and keeping to herself, while still making sure to take care of the other newsies who looked up to her. Most attributed this to a troubled past, though nobody, not even her oldest friends, had any idea of what her past was or what it installed, a widely shared question that everyone was too afraid to ask.  

On this night Cat slid down the fire escape with ease, the metal cold but refreshing against her rough feet, wondering who had the audacity to show up this far past closing time. The soft tapping of feet and murmuring about the cool summer night drifted through her ears, and she knew the accent immediately. A few steps later, a short but stocky figure surrounded by many buff companions confirmed her recognition.

"Tsk Tsk Tsk, is that Spot Conlon I see?" The Brooklyn Newsies all jumped at the smooth voice, even their fearless leader shifting abruptly. Though most of them had never seen her before, they all knew exactly who they were facing when a petite shadow glided down off the firescape and landed in front of them. The Brooklyn Boys were famously big and brave, but they all took a step back and nervously licked their lips when a pair of glossy dark eyes peered out from the darkness of the alley at them, seeming to read each of their thoughts and predict each of their movements. The air seemed to go cold as the Feline of Manhattan stepped into view, a stone cold but amused look painted on her dangerously rarely seen face.

"What da hell is you's doing here Spot? This ain't your terf and it's well past visitin' hours, wouldn't ya say?" Cat purred, loud enough for her fellow Manhattan newsies to hear her from above. The question was directed at Spot, but she scanned each of his newsies as it left her lips, almost daring them to answer her. The Brooklyn kids had never been so intimidated in their lives, her long eyelashes fanning her face as her pupils seemed to pick them apart. Confusingly enough though, their leader, who was obviously put on edge by who was currently in their presence, let a smirk peel across his face, a type of smirk they'd never seen. It conveyed something they couldn't quite place.

"I need to talk to ya." Spot said, running his tongue over his teeth. Cat raised a dark eyebrow at the boy in front of her.

"Is that so?" She crossed her arms and looked at the Brooklyn Leader's crew. He nodded and jerked his head to the side with a sharp whistle, keeping his gaze on Cat while also giving the guys who stood behind him the queue to scram. They darted off, anxious to get away from deafening glare of the dark-haired newsie with the scar on her eye. The two leaders maintained famously intimidating eye contact until they were both sure the Brooklyn newsies were out of earshot. Then Cat's arms dropped and she leaned against the lodging house wall behind her, flicking at her nails as she raised her chin at Spot.

"What is it?" Cat said in an anxious whisper. Spot took a breath and blinked for a minute.

"I just got word that-"

"I can't do private stuff right now." Cat cut him off, she stepped forward and pointed up. "They're listening."

"But-" Spot clenched his fists and looked at her with urgent eyes. Whatever he had come to tell her was very important.

"No, Spot. This ain't a good time. You shoulda have come to me during sellin' hours."

"I's tried!" Spot threw his hands up in the air. "But I couldn't find you anywhere." Cat laced her fingers and stuck out her pointer fingers to point at him, licking her lips and looking up at the Lodging House where she knew everyone was looking down at them like mice at two hungry cats.

"Look. Meet me behind the tavern on 9th and J tomorrow aright? You’s can tell me then. But not. Not now." She said, shaking her head. Spot looked like he was about to protest, but Cat shot him a look from her famous dark eyes and he just sighed and nodded.

"You's had better be there, dammit." Spot said, and then turned out into the darkness and whistled. "Cmon, Brooklyn. Let's get outta here." He walked out of the glow of the street lamp and was swallowed by the darkness, the tap-tap of jogging feet catching up with him following close behind. Cat stared out into the darkness until she could no longer hear the accented grumbling and sighed with relief, leaning back against the wall behind her and tilting her head up against a brick. It felt like she'd been holding her breath and her heart was pounding so hard she bet it could be felt inside the Lodging House. After a moment of stressed breathing, she stood up and straightened out, shaking off the stress from the conversation and walked back toward the firescape. She headed back to the third floor, climbing up the ladder and back into the persona she had adopted, leaving the troubled past down in the darkness of the Manhattan street. Where it belonged.

"What'd they want?" Jack asked from above as she pushed open the window. The question didn't phase her, she'd left the tension on the street, and Cat lied better than she walked.

"Just a missin' kid. They's figuring they’re in da Bronx, but they came to check here foirst. Just ta be sure." The answer satisfied Jack and he stepped back, away from the ledge of his penthouse, and Cat slid back into the room she'd left. She crept back over to the poker game, hoping tomorrow would never come so she would never have to face her brother again.

[romeo-in-a-trenchcoat]

No terfs aloud on my turf!

Spot Conlon at one point

[chrome-xo]

Queen of Brooklyn // Spot Conlon

Word Count: 1116

Author's Note: This is gonna be based on the Newsies on Netflix because I haven't seen the 1992 one

Newsies from all over New York had heard of Spot Conlon, if you hadn't you were either new to the newsie scene or just plain stupid. They had also heard of Spot Conlon's girl- the queen of Brooklyn, you. If anyone messed with you, they messed with the entirety of Brooklyn. The thing was, no one except the Brooklyn newsies ever saw you or even knew your name, you were a mystery to the rest of the newsies, unfortunately for them. If a Brooklyn boy saw anyone even look in your direction they were done for, but how could they avoid you if they didn't know who you were?

"Ey, boys! Up n' at em, mornin' bells rung!" You shouted out to the rest of the boys in Brooklyn's lodging house.

"Mornin' Queenie." a few boys mumbled as they walked past you to get ready to sell the papes for the day.

Spot was the last to pass by, making sure all of the boys were out of bed before coming to stand next to you, pulling you into his side as you rested your head on his shoulder.

"They love ya, y'know?" He mumbled.

"I know, they's my boys." You smiled, you were like a mother to all of them.

"You 'ear 'bout the strike?" You sighed and nodded.

"Yeah, I heard. We gonna join?" Spot was deep in thought.

"Not if they's gonna be backin' down last second." He answered and you nodded, understanding his reasoning.

"You's got some papes to sell, Spot." you gave him a quick kiss and pushed him away, smiling.

"See you's later, beautiful."

When Spot had left you had went to go grab your basket so you could go buy a few pastries with the money you had been saving up for the boys, after all, they deserved it. You hummed while walking down the street, nodding at the few newsies you saw selling while walking to the bakery, making sure they weren't causing a ruckus (what would you do to stop them if they were, you just wanted them out of trouble) and keeping a lookout for any newsies from other parts of New York trying to sell on your terf.

You entered the bakery and got enough pastries so that you and the boys could all split it and have enough for everyone, paid, and left. It wasn't long after you had left the bakery when you heard a low whistle from behind you. You stopped and turned to be met with newsies who definitely weren't from Brooklyn.

"You whistlin' at me?" You asked sweetly, noticing two of your Brooklyn boys staring at you with a questioning glance, as if asking if you wanted them to step in.

"What's a fine lady like you doin' in this part of town?" You recognized this boy as Jack Kelly- leader of Lower Manhattan.

"What's a Manhattan newsie like you doin' on Spot's terf?" You sassed him.

"Jack, we really don't have time for-" the other boy with him was interrupted by one of your own Brooklyn boys.

"These two botherin' you?" You smirked as Jack started to try to defend himself.

"We didn't mean no-"

"As a matter of fact, they is." Jack stared at you in disbelief. "We's got ourselves a couple o' trespassers who think they can walk on Spot's terf."

"You 'eard her, boys." A few more Brooklyn boys came and grabbed the Manhattan newsies' arms to drag them to your lodging house.

When you arrived, most of the boys were still selling so you had to wait a bit. You sent the boys to go get Spot and demanded they be left alone with you, although they did try to protest you simply held your hand up as a dismissal and they left to return to what they were doing. You sat face to face with the two boys, a smirk on your face as you leaned back against a table, waiting for what they had to say.

"We didn't mean to intrude, miss." The other boy said and you snorted at his words.

"You's stupid if you don't know where Spot Conlon's terf is. Is you's stupid, boy?" You asked, watching as his cheeks turned red.

"No, ma'am." he muttered and you laughed.

"You's got manners, I like that."

"Listen, lady. We needs to talk to Spot Conlon, now I don't know if you's one of his pieces on the side, but it's important that we talk to him." You scoffed.

"Listen up, Jack Kelly, you's ain't gonna be talkin' to nobody if you talks to me like that." You threatened.

"Queenie, Spot's back with the rest of the boys." Someone poked their head in to inform you and you nodded.

"Let 'im in." Jack's head started spinning when the boy called your name.

"Queenie, wait... you's Spot Conlon's-"

"Girl. Yes she is. I's been hearin' some things, Kelly. Things I ain't like to hear." Spot strolled into the room and came to your side, interrupting Jack.

"I didn't mean no harm, Spot, honest mistake. I want to talk to you's about the strike." Jack started stuttering.

"We can gets to the strike later. You's been disrespecting my girl, Kelly. I can't let that stand." Spot adjusted his cap as the other Manhattan boy looked back and forth between everyone in the room.

"Leave it for another time, darlin'." You finally said. "The strike's important."

"So's you, beautiful. But you can state your case, Jack Kelly, or you's can get out and never come back on my terf." You smiled at Spot.

"We want you's and your boys to join us in the strike, demand fair rights as employees of the papes." You raised your eyebrow in thought.

"Fair rights would be very nice, Queenie, don't'ya think?" You shook your head at Spot.

"So you's with us?" Jack got excited.

"Not yet, we ain't." Spot shut him down.

"What?"

"I need some proof you and your boys ain't gonna fold and tuck tail at the first signs of trouble. I ain't bringing my boys all the way to Manhattan just for you's to bail out last minute." Spot explained.

"C'mon, Davey, let's go. This is a lost cause." Some Brooklyn newsies escorted them to the edge of your terf as you turned to face Spot.

"Thanks for stickin' up for me, handsome." He pulled you close so that your foreheads were touching.

"You's my girl, I's always gonna stick up for ya'." You gave him a kiss and pulled away smiling. "After all, you's the Queen of Brooklyn, and a kings gotta stand up for 'is queen, even if she can definitely handle herself."

[irlweissschnee]

Say That Again?

A/N - This is my first imagine and I am going to be talking about Spot Conlon from the 1992 movie Newsies because I love him so much and whenever I read one, I can tell they are based off of the Broadway or Netflix version (I don’t know if they are the same?) But you know he is only 16 in the 1992 film, so he is technically a minor but I just feel he needs more love because I am angry he doesn’t get enough attention in the new versions, so get ready for some terrible plot whoops. It like starts off in a 3rd person view then goes into your perspective? I hope you understand I am so sorry. This is going to be a series so this is the first part. I don’t really know how many parts there are going to be but for now I think it’ll be around 4.

Word Count - 1.2k words

T/W - None? Except for really bad writing of New York accents ugh

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4

I am not who I say I am. Well in a way, I wasn’t exactly telling the truth, but only for my safety. I wasn’t supposed to be here. I was not supposed to become a newsboy, technically, I’m not even supposed to be. But here I was. Ever since I was dumped on the streets by my parents, no jobs in the factories would take me due to all women scrounging up the last decent jobs in New York. I pickpocketed my way through starvation while in Harlem, and I stumbled into the Bronx in late September. I would watch the newsies from the corners and alleyways while stealing and picking up as much money as I could. I saw how talented they were in selling their ‘papes’. I was astounded by the amount of coins I could hear being placed in their pockets. I clearly had blanked out though, because I had the unpleasant experience of being noticed after I arrived in Manhattan while staring at a newsies who had sold 50 papes in under half an hour.

I had been peeking around the corner when I heard from behind me, “What’a doin’ he’a sweetheart?”

I spun around quickly and, out of reflex, I kicked the person off their legs. The person fell, giving me a good look at their face. It was a boy, maybe 16 or 17, with short, curly hair.

“Whoa, how did’a do that?” he said, looking up at me in astonishment. I looked at him dead in the eyes and then I snapped into a state of fear. Fear that he could beat me into a pulp, fear I would be in trouble.

“I-I am so sorry,” I grabbed his hand without thinking and pulled him up.

He is still looking down at me and he started to scratch his neck, “I, uh, Ise is real sorry ‘bout that, who is you though?” He asked. I stuck out my hand, maybe a bit too quickly and too stiff, and told him

“My name, is um, Y/N.” I felt him grip my hand, giving it a shake, I looked up at him,

“The name’s Mush, I dunno how I gots it, but it’s stuck to me character.” He told me with a smile. I smiled back at him before he asked, 

“Ya know it’s gettin’ late out he’a, you’s got any place ta’ stay?” I look at him nervously. No, I didn’t, but I was worried what he would say if I told him so.

“I-uh, yeah, over in, uhm, Brooklyn? Yeah, Brooklyn.” I haphazardly told him. He goes wide-eyed. 

“You’s from Brooklyn? What’a doin’ he’a?” He asked me, quickly.

“Just wandering through, ya know?” He still had a timid look in his eye. “You should be headin’ back soon?” He said with a kind-of smile, but I could tell he was a bit nervous. I pass him by when I hear him say, 

“You want me to walks’ ya back?” He held out his arm to me. I smiled a bit before I took his arm, holding it a bit tighter once we left the alleyway. He must have noticed my grip and asked,

“Is you alright?” I tensed slightly once more, but once he asked, I calmed down and realized ‘it’s okay, he is trying to help me’.

“Yes! I am- I’m really sorry I didn’t mean ta’ worry you, I am sorry.” I say, head down because I was slightly embarrassed.

“Ya know, you’s say sorry a lot.” He told me with a slight chuckle.

“Sorry.” I gave a somewhat laugh. We snicker together before we noticed we were halfway across the bridge to Brooklyn, I noticed Mush had stopped.

I turned around and asked “Are you okay?” I told him. He looked forward towards the other side of the bridge, to Brooklyn. He looked slightly pale and at a loss for words.

“Are-are you okay?” I asked him again, slowly walking up to him. Again, no reply. I grab his arms slightly and give him a shake before he comes back to his senses.

“Oh-uh, you know’s who runs Brooklyn, right?” He asked. I looked at him quizzically before I told him,

“Um, no?” I said with a bit of edge.

“Spot Conlon, the ‘King of the Brooklyn Newsies’. He would kill me if I cross this bridge, I can’t just wanda’ onto his terf.” Mush explained. He went on, “New York is separated int’a boroughs. We here are in Manhattan, cross this bridge is Brooklyn.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right. New York is a bunch’a cities.” I told him simply

“Exactly, so I can’t cross or else they’ll see I isn’t suppos’a be there. They’ll soak me!” He told me in a serious yet upbeat way.

“Soak you? What does that even mean?” I questioned with a twisted face.

“They’ll beat me, gang up on me, and I don’t need that, what’da think?” He told me. “Shouldn’t you be headin’ to Brooklyn?”

I got scared for a second, I didn’t wanna get hurt or ‘soaked’. So, I had to tell this ‘Mush’ the truth.

“Mush?” I asked very quietly, scared of what he would say to me. I looked up to see him giving me a questioning look.

“I don’t actually live in Brooklyn. I don’t have a home. I was kicked out as a kid and have been on the streets for years so I don’t really need to cross this bridge and I don’t want me or anyone to get hurt. So please don’t make me go over there.” I said, standing really close, keeping my voice low as to not have attention drawn to us.

He didn’t exactly look surprised, who would? Kids were always thrown out if their parents couldn’t afford to feed them, so they were put on the streets to fend for themselves. If they didn’t know what they were doing, they would most likely die from starvation, so kids had to find money their own way, or wait for the their inevitable death.

“Y/N.” Mush said, slightly loud. “You’s blanked out there’s for a second.”

“Oh, um, sorry, what were you saying?” I asked, slightly flustered, embarrassed that I wasn’t listening.

“I asked if maybe you’s want to come back to me and the newsies lodgin’ house, ya know? So you can sleep in an actual bed for once in a while.” Mush said happily. I was shocked. I hadn’t slept in a bed in months, maybe even a few years, I didn’t really remember. The fact that he was offering left me stunned. Then it dawned on me,

“The Newsies Lodging House, aren’t there, you know, a lot of other newsies in there? Wouldn’t it be weird for me to just show up out of the blue? I would hate to pose as an inconvenience.” I said, rambling just a bit.

“Nah, they will be fine wit it, wheth’a they like it or not.” He said, peppy tone in his voice.

The sun started setting once we finally stopped talking and headed back. I still took a casual glance back toward the other side of the bridge while it was still in view.

What could this Spot Conlon, King of Brooklyn really be?

[lovethyfanperson]

Being a Deaf Girlsie Headcanons

Request: I was wondering if you were interested in a deaf girlsie x any newsie boy ? It doesn’t have to be romantic but I would love to see her interact with the newsies

I hope this is something close to what you wanted sweetie! Also, if anything in this is offensive of insensitive, let me know and I’ll fix it! I don’t want to offend anyone.

Also, this ended up being about 5 pages long hehe

Warnnings: Cussing, name-calling

@sincereythenewsies @-episkey- @partylikeits1899  @to-many-fandoms-halp @girlslikefoodandwifi

Being a Deaf Girlsie Headcanons:

- You’re a Newsie (obviously)

- So, you haven’t been deaf all your life

- And you lost your hearing under circumstances you’d rather never mention again

- Jack met you in the refuge

- And when he escapes, he brings you with him

- By this time you’ve become accustomed to reading lips

- Being poor, you can’t afford to learn ASL

- But that’s okay

- Because even if you did, no one else in the lodging house knew it

- They just become accustomed to looking at you and speaking clearly

- Okay, so

- You get very insecure about being deaf

- Because you can still speak

- But you don’t know what you sound like anymore, after all these years

- But Buttons and Finch assure you repeatedly that you have a lovely voice

- Also, even though you escaped the refuge with Jack, you’re best friends with Crutchie

- Because he understands what it’s like to not be “100% there” as he sometimes puts it

- Also, Crutchie’s not much of a crier.

- But there was one thing you said that made him shed a tear

- “I wish I could hear your voice.”

- You just sounded so sad

- So he held you for the longest time, humming

- You like being held while people hum

- Because you can feel the vibrations in their chest

- Anyways

- The boys get very protective when someone tries to flirt with you

- Boys out there on the street have no idea you’re deaf

- And you’ll often get hit on without knowing it

- Then suddenly you see Romeo standing over some bum, who’s holding his broken nose

- Specs adored you btw

- He doesn’t know why

- It’s just something about your kind and gentle nature

- Also the fact that when your clueless it is adorable

- Like, every once in awhile (it doesn’t happen too often) one of the boys will tell a joke

- But you’re not paying attention

- Then everyone around you is busting out laughing

- And you jump back, surprised

- Why is everyone throwing themselves around

- They look like they’re in pain

- Are they laughing?

- And all you say is “What?”

- When Davey meets you, he has no idea you’re deaf

- So he introduces himself rather quickly

- This boy talks FAST

- Not only that, but you’re also not looking at him

- All you see is a hand suddenly thrusting out towards you for a shake

- So when you look up you do that little “What?”

- And he’s really confused

- Like “she didn’t hear me?”

- “Uh. Hi, I’m new. I’m Davey.”

- He says it just as fast, so you catch nothing he says

- “Sorry, I’s… Didn’t quite get that. Can you’s say that again, a bit slower?”

- “…what do you mean?”

- “Sorry, sorry. I’s is deaf. And I need you’s ta talk a bit slower. So I’s can read yah lips.”

- “You don’t sound deaf!”

- You can’t hear Les, but Davey smacks his brother with his hat nonetheless

- “Sorry. I’m, Davey.’

- “Okay, not that slow.”

- You two become fast friends.

- SO

- You have a small crush on the Spot Conlon

- He visits every once in a while, since the strike ended

- You avoid him like the plague

- Because every time he tries to talk to you, your face goes red

- Because his lips look so soft

- And you’re so busy thinking about kissing him that you don’t pay attention to what he’s saying

- The only one who’s picked up on this is Elmer

- “Be careful with ‘im, (F/N).”

- “What you mean?”

- “That Spot Conlon’s a handful. I just don’t want you’s gettin’ hurt. Might start a terf war.’

- “I’s ‘ll be fine, Elmer. Sides, not like he likes me back.”

- “Why you’s say that?”

- “He’s Spot Conlon.”

- You once saw Baby flirting with him

- And that hurt you the most

- You couldn’t see his responses, since his back was turned to you

- But you could see everything she was saying to him

- And you end up crying that night

- Little did you know that he was blowing her off

- #BabyGotRejected

- Anyway

- Pulitzer was having a party one time

- And Katherine invited some of you

- And you didn’t plan on going

- Until Spot turned up and asked if you were going

- Because he was “hoping to see you there.”

- This is when the rest of the newsies pick up on your crush

- And they warn you

- And you’re just like “I’s already got this lecture from Elmer, shuddup.”

- Katherine, the sweetheart, let you borrow one of her old party dresses

- It was a little big

- But Tipper fixed it up so it fit you

- You, Race, and Jojo, and Tipper walked there together

- When you arrive, you feel so out of place

- Most people there are wealthy

- Or they have enough money to get by, then some

- Meanwhile you and your friends are basically dirt poor

- And you start to regret coming

- Because everyone looked like they were having a nice time listening to music, and listening to each other

- And the one person you’d come for, you couldn’t find

- So you tell Race that you’re heading back to the lodging house

- And he tells you that he’ll walk you

- And you shake your head

- “You’s have a good time. I’ll be fine.”

- “It’s dark outside, and- Oh, look who it is.”

- He turns you around, and your heart stops

- Spot has just arrived, fashionably late

- And he’s wearing his nicest pants, and a blue button up you’ve never seen on him before

- And he’s walking in your direction.

- “(F/N), you look great.”

- “S-so do you!” You blush, because some people turn to you

- You’d spoken rather loud.

- Race says something from behind you

- Spot just shrugs

- “I ain’t late. Party just started early.”

- Then he starts leading you towards the dancefloor

- “Spot, what are yah doin’?”

- He stops and turns to you, saying once three words

- “Dance with me.”

- “I can’t hear the music.”

- “Just follow my lead.”

- It isn’t that easy

- You trip over him multiple times

- So he brings you closer to the band

- “Vibrations, right?”

- Your heart fucking melts

- It’s all you can talk about for the next couple days

- And the other girlsies think it’s adorable

- The boys?

- Not so much

- Not to say they aren’t happy for you

- But you and Crutchie are their little rays of sunshine

- And if Spot ended up hurting you

- Elmer was not joking when he said there would be a terf war

- The next time Spot visits, Crutchie pulls him off to the side

- And gives him a warning

- “If you’s hurt ma sistah-”

- “(F/N)’s your sistah?”

- It takes a moment for Crutchie to realize what he’s said

- “N-no… But still-!”

- “Hey, hey, calm down. I ain’t gonna hurt no one.”

- He places a hand gently on Crutchie’s shoulder

- “You’s promise?”

- “I’s swear on tha life’a Brooklyn.”

- You two have Crutchie’s blessing

- Back to the “Sistah” thing

- Most of the boys see you as a sister

- Especially Specs, Jack, and Crutchie

- Crutchie is the first one to refer to you as his sister though

- And you see them as your brothers

- You’re all one big, (mostly) happy family

- This part

- This gets a bit angsty

- The Delancey Brothers

- Those bastards think they’re funny

- Because they think you don’t know what they’re saying

- So they call you names

- Their favorite so far is “Poor Deaf Bitch”

- But they make sure none of the others are around when they use them

- And you couldn’t bring yourself to tell anyone for the longest time

- Because you didn’t want to start a fight

- But then they picked up on your crush

- And they start calling you “Brooklyn’s little slut”

- And you’d had enough

- You ran away from them, and back to the lodging house

- And You break down, and tell Crutchie immediately

- You’d never seen Crutchie so mad

- And you can’t bring yourself to tell him how long it’s been happening

- “How long, (F/N)?

- “… A while.”

- “Goddamn them!”

- “Crutchie!”

- You just want to be held

- So he holds you while you cry

- And you eventually fall asleep

- When Jack gets back, Crutchie tells him immediately.

- He doesn’t even say hello

- And Jack is beyond pissed

- He marches straight out of the lodging house, grabbing the two closest newsies (Mush and Tipper)

- And the three aren’t seen for hours

- You’re awake by the time they get back

- Tipper’s lip is busted and a bloody nose

- Her clothes are torn

- Mush has cuts and bruises

- His clothes are fine though

- Jack has a black eye forming, his nose is bleeding, and he’s limping just a little

- They went to go soak up the Delancey’s

- But they had a couple friends with them

- Regardless, it was obvious who had won

- You started to cry again

- The next time Spot is over, you beg the guys not to tell him

- But Race does anyway

- And Spot gets so mad

- He turns to leave the lodging house

- You have to run after him to stop him from trying to take on the Delancey’s by himself

- “Spot! Spot stop!”

- “They don’t ‘ave the right ta call yah that!”

- “Jack, Mush, and Tipper already took care’a ‘em.”

- “I don’t care. No one messes with my goirl!”

- He’s talking so fast, you almost don’t catch what he says. And your heart just stops.

- “What did you’s say?”

- Your voice is so quiet

- And he stares at you

- And you can see him calming down

- He pulls you into the tightest hug you’ve ever been in

- And you two just stand there for a while, hugging

- These boys will do anything for you

- Though you remind them constantly that, despite your disability, you can hold your own

- But boys will be boys

- You’ll just have to show them

- Won’t you?

[chrome-xo]

Brooklyn // Racetrack Higgins

Word Count: 1268

Author's Note: I've been sitting on this one for awhile because my minds been in a not so good place lately but on another note feel free to continue to leave requests! :)

It was not known by many newsies that Race used to be a Brooklyn newsie before deciding to sell in Manhattan instead. You had met Race when he sold in Brooklyn, and many times he would sell with you and your brother, the three of you were all close. Before he had left, you and Race would spend nights simply counting the stars while the two of you lay on the roof of the lodging house, and your brother had often found you fast asleep in the morning. When he left you were devastated, but you still had your brother which you were thankful for, and your brother ended up moving up in ranks to become the leader of the Brooklyn newsies, the infamous and feared Spot Conlon.

Spot wasn't able to do it all alone, so you often helped him out seeing as you were his second in command, so whenever he was out selling or dealing with business, you were in charge. Because of this, you were left to deal with all the non-Brooklyn newsies who wandered onto your terf. It seemed this time it was three Brooklyn newsies, one of whom you happened to know very well.

-----

"Who wants Brooklyn?" the Manhattan newsies had just come to the conclusion that they needed to spread the word to the newsies of New York, and were sending messengers to every part of New York.

Everyone quieted down at once, no one wanted to mess with Spot Conlon. Even with prompting, no one volunteered so Jack ended up volunteering Davey and himself, the other boys let out sighs of relief that they weren't chosen.

"I'll go's with ya." Race spoke up, shocking everyone.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I's got some stuff to do there."

The newsies knew that he often sold on Brooklyn terf, although they always wondered why he was able to when anyone else would've been dealt with after taking even a single step into Brooklyn, but no one felt the need to ask in fear of what the answer might be.

The newsies all split up to go spread the word, Jack, Davey, and Race starting the trek to Brooklyn, unsure of what the future held in store for them. It didn't take long to get to Brooklyn, and it didn't take long for Brooklyn newsies to spot them.

"Racetrack. You know you's can't bring others with you." They seemed to come out of no where.

"I know, we's here to talk to Spot." Race waved his hand dismissively.

"Well, tough luck. Y/N is in charge today." Race groaned as Jack and Davey looked back and forth, confused.

"Who's Y/N?" Jack asked Race, thinking of all the possibilities that this mystery person held in store.

"You's gonna see. Shuddup n' walk, Manhattan." A Brooklyn newsie shoved him and Davey along towards the lodging house.

It was a short walk, and the three Manhattan newsies were told to wait in the hall as they talked to the mystery person.

-----

"Y/N we's got three Manhattan boys here, what should we's do with 'em?" You were sitting at a desk reading a book when Spot's third-in-command entered.

"What do they want?" You groaned, rubbing your face.

"I don't knows, but uh..." he trailed off and you rolled your hand, beckoning him to continue.

"But what?"

"Race is with 'em." You froze as soon as the words left his mouth.

"Let 'em in." Was all you said.

He nodded and opened the door, letting the three boys step in. You dismissed him with a wave of your hand, leaving you with the two Manhattan newsies and your Race as he shut the door. The four of you sat in silence for a solid minute before one of the boys spoke.

"You's a goil?" You rolled your eyes at his stupidity.

"Yes, I's a goil. Does that shock you? There's plenty of goil newsies, but if you's got a problem with me I can tell Spot." You stood, your chair scraping against the floor.

"No, my apologies. The name's Jack Kelly, this is Davey, and this is Racetrack." He introduced himself and the others to you, unbeknownst that you already knew Race.

"That's nice. Whatcha here for? You's steppin' onto my terf, there's consequences." You saw Race roll his eyes.

"Oh, c'mon Y/N! Lighten up!" He strolled over casually and threw an arm around your shoulder.

"Race, what the hell?" Jack's eyes widened.

"Higgins, remove your arm or I's gonna remove it from your body." You threatened him and he removed his arm.

"We needs to talk, Y/N." He muttered in your ear so the other boys couldn't hear and you nodded.

"Go grab some food or something, Tony. Meet me on the roof after I'm done here." You shooed him away, Jack and Davey watching in bewilderment.

"Find me when you's is done, Jack." Race said before leaving the room.

Deciding to move on from what had just happened, Jack had jumped right into a spiel about how he needed the newsies of Brooklyn to join the strike for a fair pay and that they couldn’t do it without their help. When he finished, you took a minute to comprehend all the words that were just spewed from the boys mouth, and had reached a conclusion you knew your brother would agree with.

“Tell ya what, Jack Kelly. You and your boys prove to us that you ain’t gonna run at the first sign of trouble, and Brooklyn will consider joining your little strike.” You crossed your arms and sat back onto your chair.

“But we need you’s!” Had he not heard anything you said?

“And we needs to know you’s ain’t gonna put us in danger because you was too scared to face Pulitzer after all.” You were simply looking out for your boys.

“But-”

“You heard me. You’s can go now, or I’s gonna get you’s an escort.” Jack and Davey glared at you as they left, muttering to each other under their breath.

As soon as you knew they were gone, you left the room as well, finding a few of your boys waiting to see what had happened inside the room. You shooed them away with a promise you would tell them later and instead began your trek to the roof of the lodging house. You found Race up there, smoking one of his cigars which made you shake your head as you walked towards him. He heard your footsteps and opened his arms for a hug, to which you simply accepted and fell into his arms.

“Why did you’s leave us? Leave me?” Your voice was quiet, you didn’t want to cry.

“I had to, I would’ve messed everything up with you and Spot.” Your head tilted in confusion.

“Whadya mean?” 

“You’s his sister, if he would’ve found out the truth he woulda kicked me out anyways, it was better this way, doll.”

“What truth? Race what’s goin’ on?” You were worried.

“That I uh... that I like you...” His voice trailed off and you froze at his words, that was why he left?

“You like me? Why didn’t you say so, Tony? Spot wouldn’t care, hell he’d probably encourage it.”

“You mean you’s..?” He didn’t finish his sentence but you knew what he was meaning to ask.

“Of course, ya dufus. I’s liked you since we first met.” He grinned.

“Does that mean I’s can kiss ya?” You shook your head at his teasing tone.

“If you stay, then maybe.”

“No promises, doll.” He pulled you in for a kiss.