- crutchie believes every thing Jack tells him!! He’s gonna ride the ponies some day!
- how les is so grown up in his mind but still looks back to his big brother for guidance
- LET THE MAN THINK so uh Jack, ya done thinking yet?
- David is so affronted by the whole thing he’s just here to sell his papes he didn’t ask to help lead a strike wtf guys
- Medda’s riffs are literally goals??
- Kara was so funny during watch what happens I could see every transition from each thought I really enjoyed it
- literally all of Santa Fe?? It’s so intense omg
- When Race sticks out his his tongue at “it’s my city, I’m the king of New york”
- Andrew Keenan Bolger made me cry during letter from the refuge ahhhh he looks so hopeful like he wants Jack to know it’s all going to be ok but he’s not sure himself but like he knows Jack can do anything
- Jack looks so small and scared while talking to Katherine right before something to believe in, my poor child!!!
- When spot puts his hands in a fist to stop the applause, he is so cocky he knows they’d do pretty much anything he’d ask and he lives for it
- hernst’s son doesn’t skip a beat just like yep that’s me
- after shaking Roosevelt’s hand Jack turns back to David like oh my god did you see that??
- When crutchie hits snyder with his crutch like yes you go crutchie!!! he deserves it what an asshole
- ROOSEVELT AND PULITZER ARE SO SALTY I LOVE IT
- Katherine smiling while kissing Jack, they’re so in love awww
-Each ensemble character had an individual personality i loved watching them all
kill off POC characters, female characters, lgbtq+ characters, etc.
charlie brooker, an intellectual:
here’s an episode where the two main characters are a lesbian and a bisexual woman! and guess what! they fall in love! guess what else! they’re an interracial couple. wait there’s more! they’re literally gonna live forever haha fuc the system
REQUEST(S):“Tough AF Brooklyn chick is pined after by Race Higgins” - anon
“Hey could you write something with a badass girlsie who the boys are kind of afraid of? Sorry it’s kind of vague I just don’t see many SUPER badass ones. Maybe she beats up the delancey brothers by themselves and the boys are like WTF?!!! And could it be racetrack x reader? Love you tons your writing is amazing!!” - @impractical-impala
SUMMARY: In which Y/N makes Race nervous
A/N: ayyyye guess who finally wrote something? but seriously, i can’t write fight scenes??? like idk how to do that so sorry if this sucks :( also, i know Y/N isn’t like super super bad ass in this so sorry about that too, i’m not really sure how to write that either. hope you like it though!
Y/N was headed to Manhattan to deliver a message from Spot to Jack Kelly. She’d already finished selling her papes for the day, and Spot trusted her the most out of all the other Brooklyn newsies. It was a simple (stupid, in her opinion) message, but she didn’t mind taking a walk on such a nice day. The sky was blue, the sun was out, and there was a nice breeze.
She’d come to Manhattan a few times before, and if prompted she would begrudgingly admit that, besides Brooklyn, it was her favorite part of New York. It didn’t hurt that she liked a couple of the Manhattan newsies. Jack was enjoyable, Crutchie was too sweet not to like, and Specs was endearing. Then, of course, there was Racetrack Higgins, who flirted with her endlessly. She pushed him away or ignored his efforts every time, but he kept coming back. She found that she didn’t mind too much. She found she also didn’t mind that he - that all of them were a bit scared of her.
When she made it closer to the Manhattan lodge, she could feel eyes on her. On instinct, she took in her surroundings, searching for whoever was watching her. Spot made jokes a lot about how she was like a guard dog, always tense and ready to attack. Slowly, she walked towards an alley, listening to their footsteps as they followed her.
Once they were tucked into the alley, away from all people, she whipped around. In front of her stood Morris and Oscar Delancey, grinning menacingly.
“Wouldya look at that? It’s one o’ dem Brooklyn goil newsies,” Morris spoke.
“Brooklyn? Ya think she’ll put up a fight?” Oscar asked. They were acting like she wasn’t there, but their eyes stayed trained on her. She was waiting for them to move first before she did anything. If she hadn’t already guessed their intentions when they followed her into the alleyway, she sure as hell knew them now.
They both took a few steps toward her and she slowly clenched her hands into fists. The closer they got, the more she tenses up. The second Oscar’s hand brushed her arm, she landed a punch right on his jaw. He stumbled backwards, but Morris came charging toward her. He threw a punch but she dodged it, kicking him in the shin. Oscar was back up and he grabbed her from behind, locking her arms behind her back. She lifted her leg up and swung it backwards, kicking him in the crotch.
He let out a groan and fell backwards, hands covering the area she had hit. Morris came at her again, but she grabbed his suspenders and pulled him down so she could knee him in the stomach before punching him in the head. He dropped to the ground with a bloody nose and wavering consciousness. Oscar tried one more time, but all it took was one swipe at his legs with her foot and he was down.
“Woah.” She looked up to find Crutchie and Race at the opening of the alley, staring in awe at both her and the Delancey brothers lying on the ground.
“Mush came ta get us,” Race explained. “Said the Delancey brudders had followed some goil into an alley and they ain’t lookin’ too friendly.”
“We came to help,” Crutchie clarified, smiling slightly.
“Thanks, but I think I got it handled.” Crutchie laughed loudly, but Race continued to stare at her. His eyes were wide and his mouth hung open slightly. If she had been really thinking about it, she would’ve realized he looked a little love struck. “You boys wanna walk me to the lodge? I got a message from Spot for Jack.”
Race nodded quickly, closing his mouth and erasing his previous expression from his face. As they walked, Crutchie stayed slightly in front and Race and Y/N walked side by side. Every so often Crutchie would glance back at the two of them walking in silence, grin, and then shake his head and look forward again. It was no secret to the Manhattan newsies how smitten Race was with Y/N.
When they reached the lodge Y/N was taken up to the roof to talk with Jack, leaving Race staring after her. All the other boys watched him, whispering and teasing.
“I’m gonna do it,” he spoke suddenly. The boys were silenced.
“Do what?” Specs asked nervously.
“I’m gonna tell Y/N how I feel.” His face was set and he was determined to finally tell her. Immediately, there were protests from the boys.
“She’ll punch you if you even try to touch her!” Someone shouted, warning mutters of agreement.
“She could kill you!”
“I heard once that ‘er and Spot got in a fight and nobody’s seen the guy since.”
“No way! I heard they found the body washed up under da bridge.”
“Would you lot shut up?!” Everyone was silenced by Race’s outburst. He looked nervous and he was wringing his hands. “I’m tellin’ her and that’s that, so you can stop blabbering 'bout it!”
A little while later, Race was outside smoking to calm his nerves. The boys had convinced Y/N to spend the night rather than make the trek back to Brooklyn while it was gettin’ dark out. None of them doubted that she’d be able to hold her own, but Crutchie had pointed out that she looked tired and wouldn’t be at her best if something did happen. She had eventually (reluctantly) accepted the invitation.
He felt his heartbeat speed up as he thought of telling her how he felt. The boys were right, if he said the wrong thing he would most likely end up dead or severely injured. Wasn’t that some saying, though? Love hurts? Love. Because didn’t he love the way she could fight better than any boy he’d ever met? Don’t he love that she wouldn’t let anybody control her or undermine her? Didn’t he love the way she rolled her eyes when he winked at her? Didn’t he love how she hadn’t threatened him to make him stop flirting with her like she’d done to Romeo? That had to mean something good, didn’t it?
He whipped around suddenly, startled by a noise behind him. There she stood, an eyebrow and raised and her arms crossed as she looked at him.
“You got some big date comin’ up or somethin’?” She asked, joining him where he was sitting on the curb.
“W-What?” He could feel his hands start to shake slightly.
“You don’t usually smoke this late. Plus, you’re chewing that cigar like you ain’t eaten in weeks.” She wasn’t wrong, but he pleasantly surprised him that she noticed the change in his behavior.
“I actually been meanin’ to talk to ya,” he said, trying to calm his breathing. She nodded for him to continue and he took in a sharp breath. “Ya know how I’m always flirtin’ with ya?” She nodded again, furrowing her eyebrows. He could see the growing confusion in her eyes. “Well, I just - I wanted to make sure you ain’t gettin’ the wrong idea, 'cause I - ”
“I get it,” she cut him off. “You flirt with every goil, you ain’t tryin’ to settle down, blah blah blah.” She rolled her eyes but her words were harsh, and she looked almost angry. He gulped, this certainly wasn’t how he’d planned for this to go. “That all?”
“No.” She sighs and looked at him, absolutely no interest shown in her eyes. “No, no that’s not what I meant. That’s - that’s the idea I didn’t want to give you. I ain’t goin’ 'round flirtin’ with other goils, Y/N. It’s just you.” She wasn’t looking at him anymore, and she stayed silent. He felt his nerves spike up and launched into a quick ramble.
“I just mean that I really like ya, and I mean it’s fine if ya don’t like me - 'cause I really can’t expect ya to. And you know I just wanted to get it off my chest, 'cause it’s real hard bein’ 'round you and pretendin’ like I don’t have feelings for ya. You can punch me now, the boys said you would. Pretty sure that got a bet goin’ in there. Some say youse gonna hit me, other’s say I’m dead, and then, ya know, some of the boys said you had feelings for me to, which is completely -”
His anxious ramble was interrupted by her hand over his mouth. She was smiling slightly at him, amusement written all over her features.
“You’re cute when you’re nervous,” she whispered. “I’m gonna kiss you now, that okay?” He nodded quickly and she leaned in. Their lips met and it wasn’t rough like he’d expected it to be with her. She was kissing him gently, and her lips were soft. He kept his hands folded in his lap, tightly gripping his cigar. He was afraid to touch her without any spoken consent, but she had her hand cupping his cheek.
When they pulled away she laughed at the expression on his face. She looked nice when she wasn’t constantly waiting for someone to attack.
“So, who gets the money if I like you back?” She asked, smirking.
“Oh, um - just Crutchie.” He was still having trouble breathing, but for an entirely different reason. She smiled and let out another laugh at his answer.
“Perfect. He’s my favorite.”
“Not me?” Race joked, finally able to act like his non-nervous self. She grinned at the fake pout on his face.
“Sometimes,” she shrugged. He smiled and haphazardly threw his arm around her, feeling his heart pounding in his chest when she didn’t push him away.