#sprace fanfiction

[sluttylittlenewsboy]

A Healing Touch

Summery: Spot gets hurt in a fight, and Race is the only one who knows how to take care of him the right way

TW: alluded abuse, pain, mentions of violence

Spot was limping home after another long day of protecting the younger newsies when he heard his name being called behind him. Spot cringed at the voice. Racetrack.

He knew that no one in the world could hold as much concern for him in their tone as his best friend.

He reluctantly stopped walking to let Race catch up to him. Not because he wanted to, but because he knew that if he didn't, Race would just come running after him. There was also a small part of him that wanted Race to see him like this so he knew that someone cared. Race always cared.

"Spottie!" Race exclaimed after catching up to him. Spot looked up at the nickname.

"What happened?" Raced asked urgently. The look in his eyes instantly tore down any walls that Spot had put up.

"A group 'a guys was tryin' to beat up on 'a da younger kids, so I got in dere way 's all," Spot admitted.

"Oh, Spottie," Race sighed. He wrapped Spot in a big hug. Race was the only person allowed to get this close to him.

When Race first started hugging Spot, he usually pulled away as quickly as he could without being rude, but now he allowed himself to sink into Race's warm touch.

Race helped him walk the rest of the way home before immediately dragging him to the bathroom.

"Shirt off!" Race instructed strictly. Spot usually would've protested, but something about Race's tone made him comply without complaint.

Spot quickly slid his shirt off, carefully watching Race's face. There was a quick flash of surprise and pain in his eyes, but it was disguised just as quickly.

"Brace yourself, Spot, this is gonna sting," Race said sympathetically as he raised a towel to Spot's chest. Spot winced, and Race squeezed his hand gently.

Though the alcohol burnt his chest like acid, he was secretly grateful that Race was the one doing it. After all, Race was the only person in his life whose touch never burned.

[lithuaniaseye]

last night I dreamed that Davey and Spot had a duet singing about how they yearned for Jack and Race respectively... I woke up laughing from the idea of Tommy Bracco and Ben Fankhauser's height difference.

[i-politely-disagree]

Sprace-Haunted

Could be canon era or modern

lil short fic

(Inspired by Haunted by Laufey )

Spot always told himself it wouldn't happen again. It was always ‘the last time’ he went home to Race's. It was always ' the last kiss ' when he woke Race up in the haze of the early morning as he left.

Spot flicked the lamp off, looking fondly at Race who lay beside him.

As his eyes adjusted to the moonlight lacing the room, Spot watched as Race brought a hand to his cheek and smiled as he leaned into his touch.  

Eyebrows raised in question.

A nod in return. 

And a brush of soft lips against his own. 

Spot pulled Race back in, wanting moments like these to stretch out forever, savoring every mistake he was probably making. He loved the thrill he felt from a mix of Race and strange vulnerability, but something about the familiar smell of Race's room, the familiar feeling of his sheets and the relief of letting his walls down surrounded him with a feeling of comfort. Spot didn't want to sleep. He'd have to leave everything he wanted alone in a room as he went back to his life in the morning. He wanted the odd domestic feeling of whatever this was. Race's blue eyes seemed misty in the low light, clouded with some emotion Spot didn’t want to dwell on too long because he knew the impermanence of the situation they were in and, so it didn't hurt too much when that impermanence hit, he had to force ideas of Race wanting something serious out of his mind. 

Might as well make the best of the moment.

Winding his fingers through Race’s hair, Spot let his mind go quiet, taking in the sounds of New York traffic, the faint hum of a fridge from the other room, his lips as they separated from Race’s and small sighs while a blush made its way up Race’s cheeks. A heavy feeling of longing wrapped its way around Spot, but he wouldn’t give in. After all, this was the last time.

[ethereal-bumble-bee]

Chapter 5 of When the World Falls Into Anarchy is out!!! :D

when the world falls into anarchy (3224 words) by etherealbumblebee Chapters: 5/? Fandom: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken, Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies (1992), Newsies: The Broadway Musical! (2017) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins, Albert DaSilva/Finch (Newsies), Sarah Jacobs/Katherine Plumber Pulitzer Characters: Spot Conlon, Racetrack Higgins, Finch (Newsies), Albert DaSilva (Newsies), Jack Kelly (Newsies), Crutchie (Newsies), Katherine Plumber Pulitzer, David Jacobs, Les Jacobs Additional Tags: Zombie Apocalypse, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Post-Apocalypse, Danger, Survival Summary: One month. It’d been one month since the first signs of the plague showed up, since the first person became mad with fever and insane with bloodlust, since the disease had ravaged the world until there was nothing left. Spot had been lucky somehow, able to stay far from the infected, but as far as he could tell, he’d been the only one. … A zombie apocalypse AU.

[emmedoesntdomath]

currently planning out a couple different fanfics, so…

I’m like,,, actually wondering what people think, so please reblog and share so we get some actual results.

[backgroundnewsiesarebomb]

"Please, Spotty!!" Race begged. Spot went blank. 'Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. Did he just call me Spotty?' Spots mind raced with thoughts, but his expression showed no emotion despite the growing red flush on his face. "Hey, you good?" Race asked after a beat, not fully snapping Spot out of his trance but enough to speak. "Yeah, jus' thinkin'." " Well ya done thinkin'? We gotta go." Spots heart speed up. "Sure." He said. Race instantly grabbed his arm and tugged him to Medda's theater. But Spot wasn't thinking. He wasn't thinking of the long walk back to Brooklyn. He wasn't considering how fast the night was approaching. He didn't remember the few moments before the interaction and how he yawn three times in the past minute. But how could he? Race called him Spotty.

[somedayonbroadway]

Ghostbusters

Jack Kelly

An eccentric who believes in ghosts and wants to protect the living from the dead. Grew up with a ghost haunting him and his nightmares, appearing to him as a giant spider to torment him. He and his best friend from grade school wrote a book about the paranormal that Jack then began to sell for income without his ex friend’s permission.

Racetrack Higgins

The tech and mechanical genius of the group and Jack’s closest friend, and half brother. He may be a little crazy, but he was approached by NASA several times to work for them and denied them. When he was little, he went missing for ten months and when he came back, he was able to do complex equations, naming a full fledged genius tho he has no idea what social cues are.

David Jacobs

A scientist who is up for a job as a professor at a university. He finds that someone put his book online and tries to hide it in order to keep up his scientific persona. He has to go back to his grade school best friend and ask him to take the book down, only getting himself sucked back into the paranormal.

Spot Conlon

A kid who sees a ghost down under the subway while he’s doing graffiti and runs to the ghostbusters to join their team, stealing them a car and becoming their fourth member.

Click here for more AUs!

[piedoesnotequalpi]

*banging pots and pans together* THE FINAL CHAPTER HAS ARRIVED AT AN AO3 NEAR YOU! GET IT WHILE IT'S HOT!

In all seriousness, I still can't quite believe it's actually done. I'll have more thoughts tomorrow.

[all-hail-the-witcher]

questionable government spies but better written and five years late: a newsies multichap coming tonight, july 2, 2023 EST

hi hello. it’s me saph. back at it again.

the title is exactly what this looks like.

for those of you that were familiar with the first iteration of this story, welcome back, i’m so happy to have you. for those of you who are not, welcome to my long anticipated spies fic. this was originally published under the user @/suddenly-im-respecsable in about 2018-2019 (there is the early version still floating on tumblr but i have changed my url since and it’s not easily findable) and was cross posted on ao3 but was taken down

the basic gist of the story was that race and albert were fbi agents and were field training jack. they get summoned to nyc (where they were trained) to deal with some super hard gang case that no one can crack. in the process they meet spot who is working for said gang and wants out. davey jacobs is the head of the nyc branch of the fbi and hates race and albert because they almost blew up his weapons lab.

i think i got through 14 ish chapters before realizing the whole thing was badly written and in order for it to be what i wanted it to be i needed to redo it. and then i graduated high school and started college and changed fandoms and started dating my boyfriend and there was a global pandemic and then i graduated college and all of that.

and now, 5 years later, i am back on my bullshit, this time with a creative writing degree under my belt and @ainti-pretty to force me to finish what i started. the plot is all relatively the same, just a little tweaked. i never got to the point of all the plot twists so if you read the original version you have no spoilers besides some background knowledge that i am changing around a little. im working entirely off of my original hand written outline that is on the back of my notes from my 11th grade english class

and what motivated me to do this now you may ask? well i’m interning in nyc over the summer and can do irl accurate location mapping lol. that and i made a tumblr to literally post this story and i never finished it so i figured that i should probably do that. and if you’re doubting that this will get finished, which, fair, @ainti-pretty and i are literally living together next year and i am certain that i will be hounded about this every day of my existence

i am tagging people who i remember being very excited about this back in the day. if you want to be tagged in future parts of this please let me know. if you don’t just feel free to ignore :) @sun-kissed-star @getchapapes @jack-kellys @spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn @fairly-awkward-trashcan @ritsunaru @heller-obama @turtle-steverogers @boygirlctommy @newsies-trash-queen @telling-tragedy @alberteatsglass

and since i have every ounce of this planned, here is my casting if you are interested:

92sies: mush, blink, davey

obc: spot, crutchie, smalls, medda, pulitzer

toursies: specs

proshot: albert, romeo, elmer, buttons, jojo, (anyone else i’ve forgotten is probably proshot)

uksies: jack, finch

race: weird combo of btc and giuseppe bausillo

katherine: a literal tiktok girlie

i am cross posting this on ao3, the tumblr version will all be tagged under #spies 2.0 and it will all me master posted and pinned on my blog.

im so excited :)) this fic is my baby and i want to thank everyone who has read it previously and everyone who will this go around. let me know if you want to be tagged !!

[somewhere-in-santa-feeee]

Imagine....

Race practicing for a show at the theatre and it's a song like "I can't help falling in love" and Spot hears bc she is also rehearsing for Bowery Beauty stuff (I should do a whole ass thing on that) and she heard him and is in love with his voice but doesn't know it's him. And he does the same with her. Then when it comes round to the strike, after brooklyns here like during Something To Believe In but like with the newsies, Race is singing a lullaby to the younger newsies to calm them and get them to sleep, perhaps maybe splasher and Tommy boy. Then Spot is like there like "wot 🧍‍♀️"

pls someone write this

[sky-neverending]

newsies drabble!!

Spot squinted as light poured into the window of his place in Brooklyn. It was nighttime, why was it bright?

He sat up in his bed, blankets falling to the floor.  A thud came from the window. 

"Who is it?" he growled, pulling himself forcefully into consciousness. "I ain't afraid of ya"

A familiar laugh rang out. "It's just me, Spotty. No need to freak out."

Groaning, Spot rolled his eyes. "Race? What are ya doin' here?"

Racetrack's smile was enough to light up the whole room. Hell, maybe all of New York. 

"Well, this," he said, kissing Spot suddenly. 

[sluttylittlenewsboy]

Revelations: Sprace

Chapter 1

Summery: Spot and Race are best friends, at least, that's what Rave thinks. But Spot's feelings run a little deeper. Only, he doesn't even know that yet.

TW: None for this chapter

"Come on, Spottie, it'll be fun!" Race encouraged. They had been having this conversation for almost twenty minutes now.

It was the second Saturday of the month, which meant it was time for Race's monthly poker game with the Brooklyn boys. Every month, Race begged Spot to attend, and Spot always declined his invitation.

However, this time was different. This time, HotShot would be there.

Spot had never found himself attracted to girls. Guys? Sure. But never girls. He had known this since he was little.

Sure, people had taken notice of his lack of a girlfriend. And people definitely questioned it. He was the king of Brooklyn. How did he not have a girlfriend? But no one was ever brave enough to ask. Until Race.

"Really, Spottie, there ain't any goil caught ya eye?" Race asked. Spot shook his head. Race stared at him quizzically for a moment before gaining a knowing look in his eyes. Spot's stomach sank.

"Ya don't gotta his it Spot, it's obvious," Race laughed. In that moment, Spot felt fear deeper than he ever had. It was one thing for Race to pick up on it, but obvious? He really hoped everyone else didn't think so. But Spot's anxiety came to a close when Race spoke again.

"You's into HotShot!" Race shouted. Spot let out a slow breath and laughed almost hysterically. Race took that as confirmation. Since then, Race had been teasing him about his "crush" at any given opportunity.

Spot had gone along with the idea for months. He even occasionally commented on how pretty she looked certain days. And he was right. She was pretty, but not pretty in the way that Spot wished she was.

When Race found out that HotShot would be there, he was insistent that Spot came along as well. After almost half an hour of arguing, Spot finally caved and agreed to go on the condition that Race had to stop pestering him about it. After all, it was one poker game. What could go wrong?

[thats-our-cue-girls]

I don't know if anyone wants to see this, but I have Newsies fanfiction and nothing better to do.

Uksies Sprace

News of a Manhattan boy selling at Sheepshead had spread from girl to girl all across Brooklyn. When Spot Conlon herself heard about the it, she was not happy. She took off one morning, papers hauled over her shoulder and stormed over to the tracks, eyes narrowed the whole way. The minute she set foot into the crowd, the Manhattan kid wasn't hard to find. He was stood bold as brass from one of the higher seats, screaming the headline for the whole place to hear but keeping most of his attention on the racing. Spot walked a up to him, noting a few things that immediately stuck out to her. The boy had a red handkerchief folded neatly in his waistcoat pocket and was much cleaner than Spot had seen on any other newsies. His clothes were in good condition, with dark brown hair sticking out from underneath his fraying hat and he held a cigar between his teeth, blowing smoke rings every now and then. As Spot approached him, she pushed her shoulders back, scowling at him.

"So you're the Manhattan kid selling on Brooklyn turf?" She sneered.

"If you say so. Racetrack Higgins." He put down his papers, brushing his hands off before extending one out to her. "And you are?" 

"Spot Conlon." She raised an eyebrow but breifly shook his hand, before straightening up again.

"Oh, so you're the famous leader in Brooklyn?" He laughed and leaned back against the wall.

"What's so funny about that?" Spot sounded leathal, but Racetrack didn't seem to catch on.

"Well, with someone of your reputation, I wasn't expecting a girl. I mean, if I-" Before he could finish what was probably going to be another stupid comment, her fist collided into his jaw, rendering him dazed for a few seconds, wordlessly cupping his own face. "You can throw a punch, I'll give you that..." She grabbed the front of his shirt, meeting his eyes and giving him a threatening glare. 

"Now you'd better head back to Manhattan, Higgins, and best not let me catch you here again." She shoved him away, blowing a loose curl out of her face. Race held up his hands meekly in surrender, gathering up his papers and walking away from the track, sharpish.

"What a woman..." He muttered to himself, stunned, and still rubbing the spot she'd hit, most likely to have a bruise there by the afternoon.

Was he going to listen to Spot's warning? No, no of course he wasn't.

[i-politely-disagree]

Sprace- Call

MODERN AU TW: Swearing??

(I've never posted on here lol)

Spot cringed as his phone call was answered. Usually, it just went straight to the far too familiar  “Hi it’s Racetrack! Don’t leave a message!” voicemail to hurt him even more with the fact that he was either blocked, or Race was declining all his calls. A harsh ‘What do you want?’ may not have been ideal, but Spot still smiled softly at the sound of his ex’s voice.

"Hey…Race," He started. The same words he had said almost every day a month ago. Throwing his bag down as he got back from work, striking up conversations at 2 a.m even though they both needed to be up early, Starting a call much like this one if anything happened. "Do you still have my white shirt with the sleeves?" 

When Race’s phone displayed Spot’s caller ID, he didn’t know what to expect. Maybe yelling, maybe an explanation that it was a dare, or maybe some tearful confession about how his love never died. Anything with more emotion than requesting an old shirt.

“Um… I’ll look around.” The conversation was too stiff, too formal. Race fiddled with the cuffs of the white shirt that definitely wasn’t Spot’s (it was) that he was wearing and paced around the couch he slept on. 

“What do you need it for?”

He’d never admit it, but Race missed Spot more than he could tell. Hearing his voice again was painful, but something to feel. He had been a mess the last month, living with his best friend, missing sleep and working his ass off to help pay the rent when it was paying the rent that got him into this mess. Spot had walked out after the topic of money had come up, only after many anger-clouded words had been thrown between him and Race. Just thinking about it, Race could taste the regret and adrenaline and feel the knot of codependency tighten as it had done that night when he realized how alone and helpless he was. Even though he hadn’t anticipated a break-up, it wasn’t like Race was expecting-

“A wedding,” Spot answered coldly and quickly. Dwelling on love around him wasn’t going to help him swallow the lump in his throat.

He regretted walking out every day. He knew deep down, that he could’ve walked back in at any moment with nothing fixed, another argument ignored, but weeks passed and Race lost the apartment he could only afford with Spot’s help. Spot lost the one stable thing in his life, the one person he felt like he could talk to, the stupidity, wittiness, energy and affection that came with Race and he missed it more than he was willing to admit. He knew it was his chance to salvage any scraps of a relationship but didn’t know how to begin. 

“I’m sorry.” It was a struggle to force the words out of his mouth, but Spot managed to sound a lot more stable than he felt. 

Race’s reply was so emotionless it hurt. No sadness, not even a quiver in his voice, no hope. Just a bland question reminding Spot he’d made more than enough mistakes;

“About what?” 

“Um, This. Calling you, acting like nothing’s happened, acting like I don’t care.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone and Spot knew he would have to address the elephant in the room.

“...And leaving. I was- I am so stupid for walking out. It sounds pathetic but I didn’t mean any of the things I said. I really lo- I really loved you.” 

Race’s soft smile threatened to fall at the use of past tense.  His mind tried to object, but a smirk tugged at his lips and words crawled out.

“You miss me.”  He observed, a mix of teasing and astonishment now unmistakable in his voice

“No, I just really want my shirt,” Spot said sarcastically, rolling his eyes as if Race could see him over the phone.  “Yes, I fucking miss you.”

Spot hated himself for giving in that easily. But at the same time, he knew lying wasn’t going to get him anywhere or anyone for that matter.

Warm hope bloomed through Race at the less-than-heartfelt confession, sudden longing for the one person he thought he’d never be allowed to long for again. A million hazy emotions flew through his mind but he couldn’t articulate everything he was feeling and couldn’t force every heavy sentiment through the phone. He needed to know this was genuine before pouring his heart out. 

Spot’s finger was over the ‘End Call’ button when Race interrupted their silence, “But you said-”

“I said a lot of things,” Spot cut him off, “We both did. But I’d bet this month's rent you didn’t mean half of it.” 

Race wanted to object, but it was true. He hadn’t meant anything close. And while he prayed to every god that he wouldn’t regret it again, heavy words slid off his tongue;

“I miss you too. But look, we can’t just…go back to whatever we had a month ago.”

“Bad communication and not-yet-healed commitment issues?”

Race exhaled deeply, “Yeah, that. But I can’t- I mean- I’ve got your shirt. Please just come and get it so we can at least talk in person.” 

Spot running down apartment stairs full speed to reunite with his ex-boyfriend was probably something countless medical professionals would advise against but, quite frankly, he was more than willing to break a wrist or two for another shot. He managed a couple of breathless words that were essentially just ‘See you soon’ before falling into his car in a haze of nerves and emotions pretty damn close to excitement. Serious conversations weren’t his forté but were better than a familiar voicemail.

[ethereal-bumble-bee]

Chapter 6 of When the World Falls Into Anarchy is out!!! :D

when the world falls into anarchy (4376 words) by etherealbumblebee Chapters: 6/? Fandom: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken, Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies (1992), Newsies: The Broadway Musical! (2017) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins, Albert DaSilva/Finch (Newsies), Sarah Jacobs/Katherine Plumber Pulitzer, David Jacobs/Jack Kelly Characters: Spot Conlon, Racetrack Higgins, Finch (Newsies), Albert DaSilva (Newsies), Jack Kelly (Newsies), Crutchie (Newsies), Katherine Plumber Pulitzer, David Jacobs, Les Jacobs Additional Tags: Zombie Apocalypse, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Post-Apocalypse, Danger, Survival Summary: One month. It’d been one month since the first signs of the plague showed up, since the first person became mad with fever and insane with bloodlust, since the disease had ravaged the world until there was nothing left. Spot had been lucky somehow, able to stay far from the infected, but as far as he could tell, he’d been the only one. … A zombie apocalypse AU.

[not-newmsies]

Spot sat on her bed, tears streaming down her face as she clutched at her chest. Her heart was pounding so hard, she thought it might burst. She had an argument with her father, who told her that she wasn't a real girl and that she should just "stick to the boy stuff." She couldn't stop thinking about his words, wondering if they were true. Did she really look like a girl? Did anyone else think so? What about Race? Did he think she looked like a girl? She looked around her room, at the posters of her favorite female musicians and actresses on the walls, at the makeup and dresses scattered on the floor. She had tried so hard to look like a girl, to be a girl, but maybe it was all for nothing. Her chest tightened and she gasped for air, feeling like she was drowning in her own thoughts. She wanted to scream, to lash out, but she knew it wouldn't change anything. She was trapped in her own body, in a world that didn't understand her. As she curled up into a ball, she wished she could just disappear, to escape from the pain and the fear. But she knew she couldn't. She knew she would always be stuck here, for now her escape could at least be rest, right? ❦ --- --- --- --- --- 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙽𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃𝙼𝙰𝚁𝙴 --- --- --- --- --- ❦ as Spot slept, her mind was plagued by a vivid and heart-wrenching nightmare. In her dream, she found herself standing alone, with nothing around her except for a single figure in the distance. As she approached, she recognized the figure as Race. But something was different about him. His eyes were cold and distant, and his voice when he spoke was devoid of any warmth or affection. "I never actually saw you as a real girl, Spot, or someone i loved." he said, his words cutting her like a knife. "You were just a fun distraction for me, nothing more." Spot's heart shattered into a million pieces as she heard Race's cruel words. She had believed that their love was real, that he saw her for who she truly was. But in this nightmare, that belief was shattered. Tears streamed down Spot's face as she pleaded with Race to reconsider, to see her as more than just a temporary fling. But he was resolute in his decision, and as Spot watched, he turned and walked away, leaving her alone in the barren wasteland. Spot woke up, sobbing and gasping for air. It took her a few moments to realize that it had all been a dream, but the pain and heartbreak lingered long after she had opened her eyes. She couldn't shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, her nightmare was a warning of things to come.