#redfinch angst | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

c0ronas-blog · 6 years

Note

Can you do some Finch writing? Like maybe Finch/Crutchie or RedFinch?

heck yeah i’d love to >:)

p.s. y’all better start specifying fluff or angst bc when you don’t, i totally totally definitely never ever take that opportunity to kill all the newsies

p.p.s. this is a little over 1.7k words so the rest of the story is underneath the cut :)

warnings: drowning; death; a hella ton of angst

“FINCH! HELLO?”

Finch shook his head wildly, dropping his feet from where he’d rested them on his desk. “I’m here, Albie, don’t worry,” he said. His grip on his phone became tighter as he tried to refocus. “Say that again?”

Albert sighed and muttered something not-so-nice, both actions completely heard by Finch over the phone call. “I said,” started Albert, “that my cousin dropped out of going scuba diving with me. There’s a leftover spot and I was wondering if you wanted to come.”

“Oh!” Finch’s face lit up. “Really? Of course I’m going, Al!” He was already leaping from his chair and marching to his room, sliding open the closet doors. “It’s not that far, right?”

“Nah, Finch, you’re good,” Albert assured him. “Pack a day’s worth of clothing, with some extra shirts.”

Finch was quiet as he started grabbing shirts from their hangers. “Ooh, hawaiian sh-?”

“No!” Albert hissed. “No hawaiian shirts.”

This time it was Finch who sighed. “Okay, fine,” he mumbled, dropping the shirt he’d selected to the floor. “When are you gonna pick me up?”

A series of weird, squeaking noises emerged from Albert’s end of the line. Finch couldn’t help but smile at it. “Is noon okay? There’s a little bit of a drive and-”

“It’s great, Albert,” Finch agreed. “See you then?”

“See you then,” repeated Albert, confirming it. “Bye, Pat!”

“Wait!” Finch blurted. “Do you know CPR?” Silence followed and Finch’s brow wrinkled, worried that Albert had already hung up.

“Finch.” Albert’s voice was quiet, discreet, but Finch could’ve sworn he picked up a hint of amusement. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

Finch flushed a brighter red than any sunburn. Hell yes, he wanted Albie to kiss him. He’d wanted that since fifth grade and here it was, the summer before their final year of high school.

“No! No, I-” Finch took a deep breath, trying to will his heart to stop pounding. “What if I drown or something? You’d need to know CPR to-”

“Oh.” The single word, small yet harsh, interrupted Finch. “Okay,” Albert murmured.

Finch was confused. Why was Albert so… disappointed? Angry? He didn’t know what it was, but whatever feeling Albert had conveyed in that word, Finch was genuinely bewildered at its meaning.

“See you there?” Finch asked quietly, unsure of what else to say to break the quiet.

“Sure.” And then Albert hung up.

It was back when Finch was in first grade that he met Albert. They were only a few months apart in age and got along very well after discovering they shared a number of the same interests.

Okay, so, being a Power Ranger was definitely not Finch’s greatest aspiration, but back then it seemed like a great idea - especially since Albert wanted to be one, too.

By the time sixth grade rolled around, they’d grown out of their superpower-ninja phase and moved onto better things. Finch became obsessed with videogames, as did Albert. They spent many Saturday afternoons playing Halo and Assassin’s Creed.

It was only a year later that Albert gave Finch a huge hug on New Year’s Eve underneath the fairy lights they’d strung up all over Albie’s room that Finch felt something stir. Something that had always been there had just… awoken.

In high school, Finch would always smile and laugh at Albert’s jokes. He’d grin and be happy whenever Albert was looking his way. But as soon as he was out of Al’s view, it all faded.

Finch was Albert’s friend, nothing more. Albert was Finch’s friend, of course, but Finch felt more strongly, more deeply, about him.

And it crushed him to know that Albie was never going to see him that way.

“Look at the water! This is- this is so cool, Al,” breathed Finch, reaching out to squeeze Albert’s arm. Finch held on a moment longer than he felt he should’ve, but Albert didn’t seem to notice, thankfully.

They were walking down the beach, scuba gear stuck tightly to their bodies. It had made Finch blush brightly to see certain things so obvious. Albert, though? He just laughed.

“Have you never seen a coral reef before?” Albert grinned, gesturing widely to the rippling water in front of them.

“You have?” Finch chirped, his voice far higher than usual.

“Well, does Google Images count?”

“Al!” Finch hit Albert’s arm lightly. “Seriously, though - have you done this before?”

“Nah,” Albert assured him. He went quiet for a moment as he squinted at the sun. “Do you have tan lines?”

Finch stopped mid-pace. “Are you trying to get me shirtless?”

Albie wiggled his brows, making Finch snort. “As if I haven’t seen you without a shirt before,” he said with a wink. “But…” He reached out and tapped Finch’s chest. “You didn’t have pecs before.”

“ALBERT!” But Finch was laughing. “I’ve been working out, okay? It’s summer after all, and I wanted to impress the guys and gals.”

Albert nodded solemnly. Finch’s bisexuality wasn’t unknown to him and he often referred to Finch as a ‘bicon’ - which, naturally, made Finch flush a vibrant red that was brighter than Albert’s hair.

“Well,” began Albert, his eyes sparkling. “I can say for sure that you’re certainly impressing someone.”

“Oh, please,” Finch spluttered, flustered. The conversation continued after that as they slipped into the water, but Finch was on autopilot. Had Albert…?

It was wiped from his mind as soon as Finch’s gaze hit the huge reef. The mouthpiece - a regulator, he’d been told - almost slipped from his mouth as he gaped. Woah.

Judging by Albert’s wide eyes behind the green goggles he wore, the two had the same reaction. They shared amazed looks before swimming closer, careful not to disturb any of the coral.

Finch was enrapt by the intricacy and colors - not to mention the fish that swam about, their tails waving as they flitted away from him. What felt like only a few moments - though Finch knew they were much, much longer - flew by before Finch turned to Albert.

And that’s when he saw it.

Albert’s face was paling and he looked terrified, confused. Awful things.

Finch moved closer, his swimming skills in bad shape since he hadn’t done any true swimming in over a year. His breaths were small and quick as he sucked in air from the tank attached to his back. Worry was filling him, fast.

As Finch grew nearer to Albert, he watched in what was like slow-motion as the regulator floated from Albert’s mouth. Bubbles flowed quickly as Albert reacted, his first instinct being to drag in air.

But he was wrong, so wrong.

Finch could feel a scream building up in the back of his throat as he struggled to get closer to Albert, shaking his head wildly as if to say, “Don’t breathe.”

Despite seeing this, Albert’s chest heaved, up and down, up and down, trying desperately to pull in a wisp of air.

Panic shot through Finch’s veins, his heart pounding too loudly for him to process any coherent thoughts. All he knew was that he had to get to Albie, and fast.

He finally managed to grab Albert’s wrist. He pulled Al closer, wrapped his arms around his waist, and began to swim up. To the surface. To air.

Tears clouded Finch’s vision and he blinked them away, trying to shove away the cold fingers that were attempting to clench at his heart. Help Albert, he thought. Help him. Hurry.

Albert grew still after a moment and Finch almost froze. No longer did Albert flail about. He just lay, limp, in Finch’s grasp. Finch told himself that this was because Albie was trying to help him out by reducing any conflicting movement, but he knew, deep down, otherwise.

They finally exploded above the water, waves crashing into Finch’s face. He spit out his regulator, ignoring the nauseous feeling forming in his gut as he swam for shore.

He screamed out, calling for help, for a lifeguard. Someone, anyone. Help Albie, please. Please.

People came, pulling him and Albert to the sand. His grip was torn from Albert’s body and tears finally spilled down over Finch’s saltwater-soaked face.

His vision blurred and his memories blurred. Noises became distorted and all he could hear was the screams of help replaying in his mind.

Thoughts filled his head, full of moments he and Albert had shared. There was the car ride to the beach, the first time they’d met, so many things.

Was this the last one? Was this what Finch was going to see whenever he closed his eyes? Whenever he paused from his work, when he let his thoughts roam?

And it terrified him, because… was it?

Hands grabbed his shoulders and lifted him up. A misshapen face moved into Finch’s view and he stared into their eyes. Tears filled this person’s eyes as well but Finch didn’t question it; the overwhelming sadness in his heart muddled any question.

“Is Al- is he okay?” choked Finch, his throat closing up when he tried to say Albert’s name. “Albert - is he alive?”

“Pat,” came the person’s whisper. Soft and gentle, caring and calm. The slightest bit of a drawl and the crisp pronunciation of Finch’s name… it reminded him-

“Al?”

“I’m okay,” Albert assured softly, his grip tightening on Finch’s shoulders. Water dripped from his wavy hair, falling down his freckled face and slipping off of his chin. Red marks outlined where his green goggles had been and Finch traced them with a finger.

“You’re okay,” he repeated. The hesitance in his voice made it feebler than he realized, but Finch didn’t care. Albert was- he was alive.

“I did die there for a second,” Albert said, sounding almost thoughtful. “So now I can check off ‘resurrecting’ from my bucket list.”

Finch didn’t smile, didn’t laugh, didn’t sigh. He watched Albert’s mouth as he spoke, searing the way each word was pronounced into his mind.

Albie’s lips were a bit blue - pale, still, and chapped. But that didn’t matter to Finch.

His gaze moved up, locking with Albert’s. “I love you,” he whispered. “And I’m not losing you again.”

Albert was silent, but the glimmer returning to his eyes made Finch’s heart warm. “I love you too, Finchie, but my being resurrected is pr-”

Finch’s lips crashed against Albert’s, his fingers threading into Al’s sopping wet hair. Albert let out a ‘mmph!’ of surprise but soon was leaning into the kiss and cupping Finch’s face with both hands.

Finch pulled away, tilting his head to their foreheads touched. The taste of saltwater lingered in his mouth as he whispered, “Don’t leave me ever again.”

Albert’s warm smile filled his world. “I won’t,” he whispered back. Then, he pulled Finch closer for another kiss.

this was almost 2k words okay, gimme some love here

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etrelibre · 2 years

Text

Nothing Gold Can Stay

Newsies

General Audiences

Pairings: Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins, Albert DaSilva/Finch, Jack Kelly/Katherine Plumber, Jojo De La Guerra/Mike, Romeo/Specs

Summary: Race has cancer. Finch died from cancer two years before this. Spot and Albert are sad.

Read here

#sprace #redfinch #jatherine #romeo/specs #jomike #angst #character death #newsies fanfiction #newsies live #newsies bway #grace writes stuff

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willowistic22 · 3 years

Text

Red (Redfinch)

Despite their breakup, Albert still wanted to go see Finch perform in one of his concerts when Race asked him if he wanted to come. This is the perfect chance for them to talk things out again but words aren’t cooperating for either of them. With that, Finch decides to triy a different form of communication.

Words : 5233

Part : -

Warnings : Alcohol, cursing, cigarettes, angst in general

A/N : Woah that’s a crazy word count uhh,,,, hi i’m back with another fic. Another redfinch and for that we stan lol (well idk maybe yall are annoyed by all these redfinch fics but yknow what? i’m thriving off of it) But fr I’ll eventually get into writing other ships but for now have one more redfinch combined with another tswift songs (as you do) this time with Red. Wow we are so surprised who would have thought of redfinch being associated with the song red no we aren’t surprise :D This one specifically exists in my bandsies au. you don’t need to read that first to understand this (i think?) but it wouldn’t hurt if you checked that out as well:) Tbh i can’t decide whether i love it or hate it but at least i like it enough to post it. N ee wayysss enjoy!!

His brain is screaming about how much Albert shouldn’t be doing this. Comprising a list of cons that goes on forever. And although he thinks all of the cons his brain had written is logical, that one pro his heart wrote beside the long list was all it took for Al to say yes. All the cons will be worth suffering through if he finally gets to see Finch again. And maybe it’s for the better since he’s not doing well by distancing himself from the boy.

Unfortunately, the world isn’t black and white. Meaning that even if he did choose to follow what his heart wants, all the horrible feelings will still be there. And with every step he takes, inching closer to the entrance of the building, he’s getting even more terrified by the second. Thankfully, the line for the entrance is going pretty slow which gives time for Albert to calm down.

But it’s not helping. The line is crowded and full of fans, talking excitedly about the band’s awaiting concert inside. For some odd reason, he can only hear the conversations between fans that contain one specific name. He doesn’t hear anyone mentioning Romeo, Elmer, or Jojo’s name. Not even Crutchie, who he’s been told to be the fans’ favorite. Just the name Finch, being repeated all around him. With adoration and excitement lacing the name. The line is delaying the inevitable and the people around him makes him a bit overwhelmed.

“We can still turn around if you want. I’m sure they’ll find a way to give us a refund”

If he’s actually being honest, it was his best friend that got him to come. Race returned to their shared apartment a few weeks ago and rushed to ask Albert if he wanted to go see their friends performing tonight. Race knows about Al and Finch’s break up but it’s worth asking him first. And to his surprise, he said yes.

“No, it’s fine” Albert replied, “I’m fine”

“You’re picking your pimples right now”

“So?”

“It’s one of your nervous habits”

That piece of information really caught Al off guard. He didn’t think a tiny random fact about himself would actually corner him the way Race is doing now. Eyeing Albert through his glasses and raising his eyebrows despite his forehead being mostly covered by his beanie.

“Well… I-” Albert tried to come up with bullshit as fast as he could, “I like to do it on purpose too, alright?! My fingers just... get a little itchy!”

He slowly puts his hands down from previously reaching up to pick his face. And the line is still going slow, one step at a time. It’s not doing any favors for Al.

“Dude, it’s alright if you’re not ready to see him” Race continued, “It takes time, I get it”

“Race, I’ll be fine! How many more times do I have to tell you?” Albert argued, which finally made Race back down. And to make sure it’s no longer gonna be brought up, Al changes the subject, “By the way, where’s Specs and Mike? You said they’re watching too”

“They’re already backstage with the others for... obvious reasons” Race answered casually, catching on to Albert's intentions to change the subject. “So is Kath, by the way. We’ll meet her in there though”

To that, Albert simply nods. His jittery movements turn into rocking his body on the ball of his feet while digging his lips with his teeth. Race tries to pretend he doesn’t notice, but he does. Albert knows he does. Although he’s glad he’s not bringing it up because it might make it worse.

He’d be lucky to know that he’s not the only one panicking over this. In the dressing room, an aggravated Finch throws his phone to the cushion of the couch after sending the last text to his friend Race. It sounds unlawful for Race to be ‘secretly updating’ Finch on how Albert is actually doing because it’s obviously something Albert doesn’t want to directly tell his ex.

Finch groans, placing his elbow on his armchair to support his head. The room is spinning in his view and he wishes it all to stop. Taking deep and long breaths to stabilize his shaky limbs. A little prayer starts playing in his heart, it follows the tempo of his fast heartbeat.

“He’s here, isn’t he?”

Finch opens his eyes and looks up to meet his bandmate sitting on the couch across from him. He hadn’t even been talking for a good hour because he’s too fixated with the first text Race sent him when he and Al first started making their way to the concert.

“Yeah, he’s in line” Finch replied, looking up to the blond boy who’s holding his bass.

“How are they not being mobbed?” Another voice rang. This time it’s not coming from one of Finch’s bandmates. It’s coming from Race and Albert’s bandmate, sitting next to the shortest member of Finch’s band on the couch.

Specs only ask that because their two bands have a long connecting history and their fanbase tends to be sort of the same in a way. With Specs dating Romeo and Mike dating Jojo, Race and Albert are bound to be recognized and mobbed by at least a few fans. Especially seeing that Albert is Finch’s former lover, although the fans know that as a rumor since the two never publicly addressed it.

“I’m assuming they’re wearing a lot of shit to cover their faces” Another answered, the other VIP of the show alongside Specs, Mike. He’s twirling his drink in his hand while the other keeps Jojo cuddled close to him, “I mean, Al’s head is really fucking bright!”

With the mention of that specific name, Finch sulks back in his armchair with a groan. He covers his face with his hands, hoping it’d make the world just stop for one second. He could hear a loud clean slap echoing the room, followed by overlaps of whispered scolding. If he had to guess, it was Mike who was the one getting slapped and scolded.

“This is a disaster…” Finch exclaimed to himself, still not lifting his face up.

“It doesn’t have to be unless you make it like that” this time a feminine voice spoke up. A voice he recognized to belong to Kath.

Finch hears footsteps approaching him. He feels the motion of someone softly kneeling down in front of him. His hands were gently pried open and he was met with Kath’s friendly smile.

“It takes time, but you gotta trust the process”

It’s not necessarily the words he needed to hear right now, but it still warms his heart to hear his friend still being there for him despite the sticky situation he has gotten them into.

Everything would’ve been just fine if Finch hadn’t been so pushy and upset over Albert’s decision. He was the one that decided to put his music career on hold to go get that engineering degree, which frankly seems pretty useless. Finch was so dirty for pulling the ‘you’re being selfish’ card at him when it’s not even his band at all. Race, Specs, Mike, Ike, and even their manager Denton were very supportive about his decision to get that degree. Heck, all their friends were! But not Finch. His boyfriend at the time. He argued like he secretly knew how the others felt about Al leaving when really there aren’t any secret feelings for him to know. All his arguments came from his own feelings.

However, he knows Albert’s ‘own decision’ was secretly coated by his father’s persuasive words. The whole ‘just in case the music career doesn’t work out’ argument was basically the copy and pasted words from his father. They both know it. Despite the arguments, it still seemed that Al was determined to fully focus on college anyways. Instead of following his fellow musician friends’ college path by getting a degree in the non-lecture-hall way, he followed his father’s words and actually attended his college classes in a proper campus.

In the moment, Finch was just too focused on Albert leaving. Maybe he was the one being selfish. He had only realize now that most of his arguments were because he didn’t want Albert to go. It’s too late now, since the last time they saw each other was when Al slammed the door of their apartment one last time with all his stuff and a plane ticket to Seattle. At that point, Finch was finally tired of all the arguing and told him that if this was his plan then he’s on his own.

The tears that came after were filled with sorrow and regret. Sorrowful because he missed him. Regretful because he only realized then that there was no valid reason for Finch to lash out in the first place other than for his own needs. The feeling is still present to this moment. And it’s currently the strongest right before a show because he knows he’s gonna be in the crowd.

“Look, we’ll let ya drown out your feelings with some booze later” Crutchie finally said, “But right now we got a show”

The band was all getting up from where they were seated, bringing whatever they needed to the stage. Crutchie gets some help from Jojo to bring his Bass till he properly sits on the stool on stage. But Finch stays perfectly still, holding Kath’s hand as if his life depends on it.

“I know I should talk to ‘im, Kath” Finch finally said, slowly joining the others in standing up. Kathrine follows along, eyes still fixed to her friend, “But… I can’t. I wouldn’t know what to say to him”

“Then don’t talk” Mike suddenly inserts himself in their little conversation. He gets up and approaches the two, “Sing him the new single”

“You’re fucking insane, Mike!” Katherine instantly snapped.

“Alright, your mouth will be legally sealed shut till the end of the concert” Specs joins them only to drag Mike away. There were some protests from the boy, but it was totally shut down by everyone else in the room.

“No, wait. He’s got a point” Finch suddenly exclaimed, which quickly got the whole room to freeze in time.

He looks at his bandmates, all standing by the doorway ready to kill the concert. A half confident smile appears on his face and he says, “Let’s sing that single”

The concert is held in a bar like-venue with multiple floors, slowly being filled to the brim by excited fans. Their excitement bounces off the walls of the venue, creating an ecstatic kind of environment despite the tight space. The concert is going to start any minute now and while the fans surrounding him are shaking in excitement, Albert is shaking in a nervous fit.

“Still okay there, Al?”

Albert looked to his side, seeing his good friend Kathrine looking up to meet his eyes with concern. She had just joined the boys in the midst of the crowd after hanging out behind the stage with the band.

“What? Yeah, I’m okay” He replied, “What makes you think I’m not?”

“You’re squeezing my hand a little too tight”

Al had only realized he’s been holding Kath’s hand just now. His brain was too focused on his fears about meeting Finch again to the point that he hasn’t been paying attention to his surroundings. He gets bashful all of a sudden, cheeks going a bit warm, harshly pulling away from her grasp.

“It’s okay, you can hold my hand if you want,” Katherine said gently.

“Kath, I’m fine!” Albert said, “Why won’t you and Race believe me?”

“Because we know it’s utter bullshit”

The pair looked back towards the crowd behind them where the familiar voice originated from. There, Race struggles through a sea of people with two drinks in hand. Oddly enough, he still seems to stand the heat despite still wearing his face disguise. A white cotton mask, black-framed glasses, and a grey beanie mostly providing cover for his blond curls. While Al, seeing that the venue is pretty dark and speculations has led him to believe that the fans would be focused on the concert rather than the people attending it, had already put away his mask. However, his fears still made him wear his snapback and grey-framed glasses just in case.

Albert takes his rightful drink, and with a free hand, Race takes off his own mask and stuffs it in his pockets. He complains about the stuffiness from wearing the mask all while doing so, which made Kath laugh. It appears the Albert-scolding has been forgotten for the time being, as Kath and Race starts engaging in their own conversation, which Al doesn’t mind because he’d much like to down his beer quickly.

And then the concert finally starts.

An exciting intro starts playing as the band enters the stage. The wild crowd welcoming the band is deafening to Albert’s ear. Time freezes and everything in between fades away. All he sees is Finch, up on stage wearing a smile brighter than the lighting of the venue itself. He’s using his old dark green guitar. The same one he uses when he’s writing songs in bed or when he just feels like strumming the strings. Albert remembers the memoirs of all the guitar string scars he had earned throughout the years of knowing him. Some of them were even caused by Albert himself.

Lucky that Finch hasn’t noticed Albert has been staring at him the whole time. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of the boy since the start of the first song, shimmering under the spotlight with amazing vocals. Laughing about at his fellow bandmates’ antics on stage. Oh, that laugh. It gives him butterflies in his stomach like it was the first time hearing it.

He can feel two pairs of familiar eyes on him. But he’s too far gone to care. Albert really did make a big mistake for letting Finch go that easy. Because at the end of his previous college days, he still loves him and misses him dearly. His little Finchy. It doesn’t matter to Al anymore if Race and Katherine are eyeing him with sorrow or the whole world were to look at him weirdly for fixating his own eyes towards the beautiful boy on stage. He was his beautiful boy. Good lord, does he long to see the days when he got to call Finch his.

“Holy shit, I fucked up” Albert muttered under his breath, only Kath and Race could hear it, “I should’ve never had left”

His friends were definitely not expecting Albert to verbally exclaim his regret. They already knew from the start despite the redhead’s previous denials. But hearing him say it just makes it all more real. Even Albert himself was hit by a truck of reality just by loudly announcing it.

“Well, now you know” Katherine started, gentle voice on the same volume as his own despite the volume of their current surroundings being incredibly loud, “Go tell him that after the show”

“I can’t. I shouldn’t” Albert replied, fully turning away from the stage to properly look at his friends. A glint of sorrow and desperation flashes before his face, “I might make things worse!”

“Well, you’ll never know till you try” Race said, sounding a little hesitant at the start. He offered a warm smile at his friend and a hand on his shoulder, since there isn’t much he could do in the moment.

With a heavy sigh, Albert turns back towards the stage only to witness the biggest surprise of his life. Finch looked back. Straight into Albert’s eyes, it pierced right through to get his heart thumping loudly in his ears. He just realized the song the band was previously playing had ended and they were waiting for the fans to quiet down. While Romeo playfully over-dramatize his thank you’s to the crowd and gets scolded by Elmer and Crutchie, Finch was continuously staring at Albert. The hands that were previously used to play with his guitar hang idly because his center of attention wasn’t at his instrument right now.

It might just be some form of hallucination Al retained from the high, but Finch seemed to be smiling at him a little. Just a little curve at the end of his lips while he’s still staring back.

Albert doesn’t know how to interpret this other than to just stare back. Deep down, his heart is flipping in all kinds of ways and his thought process is no longer comprehensible. He’s trying to read the other boy’s emotions but it’s too neutral to tell. Other than the fact that he’s smiling a little at him but that still doesn’t give him a proper answer.

Eventually Finch becomes the first one to look away, seeing that the audience had settled down for the band. Albert’s eyes were still glued to Finch, retaining his focus back to the concert. He opens his mouth for a moment to say something into his microphone, although he unexpectedly stopped. The flow of words seemed to cut short. He saved himself by pulling himself away from the microphone up front and towards the rest of his bandmates. Judging from the body language, they seem to be whispering.

“What’s happening?” Albert whispered, more to himself rather than to his friends.

“I’m not sure…” Race replied, taking a step closer to where Al is standing.

The band kept the discussion short and quickly got back to their places. Finch seems to hesitate the second time he opens his mouth to speak. But this time, he gets the words out.

“Uhh… sorry ‘bout that. I uhh… I just got the urge to go a bit out of our fixed setlist and uhh… hope you guys don’t mind” Finch explained with a little giggle at the end. The crowd couldn’t care less and cheered on. Finch smile widens at the agreement, “We thought we’d give ya an early access to our newest single that hasn’t been released yet”

A euphoric feeling passed through the crowd as the cheering got louder. It baffled Finch so much that he laughed into his mic.

“Oh my god, they’re actually doing it” Katherine commented under her breath.

But Al’s ears were sharp enough to catch it. He snaps his head around to face the girl behind him, “Do what?”

Katherine was rendered speechless to that question, despite obviously knowing what’s going on. Albert turns to Race but he has no idea. He finally turns back to the stage where Finch’s gaze was already waiting to be returned by Al himself.

Without breaking the gaze, Finch speaks into the mic with a little smile, “It’s called ‘Red’”

It was Albert’s turn to be speechless. He had no knowledge of a new single since he’s mostly been staying away from his ex’s social media for the sole purpose of moving on, which he had failed miserably. And none of his friends had told him anything about a single that’s title was a secret language only Finch and Albert share, littered with all sorts of vintage romance.

“Holy shit…” Race exclaimed, “...I had no idea they were gonna play this song”

The opening of the song starts with Jojo lightly plucking a few strings of his acoustic guitar. The crowd goes wild once again, energy bouncing off one wall to the other.

“Loving him is like driving a new Maserati down a dead end street

Faster than the wind, passionate as sin, ending so suddenly”

Crutchie sang the first line smoothly. At this point the other’s had joined in with their instrument. Finch fully ignoring the crowd and focused on looking at Al. Those blue eyes are trying to send a message to Albert and it’s being coded with the song they’re currently playing.

The song had carried on till it reached the chorus. All the instruments peaked at that moment and collaborated with each other to create a very euphoric sound. The crowd jumps along to the beat of the song along with a loud cheering, obviously enjoying the tune they have yet to listen to. Some were holding up cameras to capture this moment, most likely to later share it with the fans that didn’t get the chance to witness it live.

At this point, Finch had turned his face away from Al. There was a troubling look in his expression but it was quickly covered by closing his eyes as if he’s trying to concentrate on singing the chorus with the others. But Al is no fool. He knows that look on Finch’s face is when he’s trying to avoid something, and that something is him.

“Losing him was blue, like I'd never known

Missing him was dark gray, all alone

Forgetting him was like trying to know

Somebody you never met

But loving him was red”

The words moved something in Al. It was written in a way Albert recognized it to be Finch’s writing style. Every single part of the song. From the melody, the chord progression, even the lyrics. Especially the lyrics.

“Fighting with him was like trying to solve a crossword

And realizing there's no right answer

Regretting him was like wishing you never found out

That love could be that strong”

As Finch harmonized that line with Jojo, he stole a little sad side glance at Albert. The song returns to the chorus once again, Finch gets dragged with the beat and lightly moves his body along.

Albert gets captivated along with the music. He can feel the corner of his lips slightly rising up, which is pretty ironic seeing that Finch is singing a breakup song about them. Maybe because he’s relieved to hear Finch sing about how he’s not fully over him. Or maybe it’s because he gets to see Finch embracing the break up, which could potentially mean that he’s okay with it. But whatever it is, he’s happy seeing Finch like this. Or just seeing him in general.

“Remembering him comes in flashbacks and echoes

Tell myself it's time now gotta let go

But moving on from him is impossible

When I still see it all in my head”

The chord progression’s pattern slightly changed. Finch sings his line into the microphone, closing his eyes as if to soak up all the intoxicating energy he gets from the crowd. Of people flailing their hands into the sky and a loud chorus of undecipherable shouting. But at the last line, he steals a proper glance back at Albert.

“In burning red”

The lyrics really says it all. There’s no more hidden message that Albert needs to decipher, as it's being presented right in front of him.

Finch takes over the next part of the song, shredding his guitar which makes the crowd go wild. At the moment, it looks like he’s feeling himself. Moving along with the motion of his fingers that creates each note.

“Oh, losing him was blue, like I'd never known

Missing him was dark gray, all alone

Forgetting him was like trying to know

Somebody you never met

'Cause loving him was red”

The song is supposed to be a punch to Albert’s guts, and yet he finds himself laughing at it. He catches a glimpse of Finch’s eyes, sneaking its way to look back at Albert every so often. And this time, he wears a smile while jumping along to the song. And it made Al smile back.

“His love was like driving a new Maserati down a dead end street”

As the song ended, the fans went wild. The look on Finch’s face seems satisfied at the success of the single they have yet been released to the world, shining at the sight of a hype crowd. He steals one last glance at Albert with a little smile on his face. Albert would dare to say he’s being a bit shy. To that, Albert smiles back with a disbelief laugh escaping his lips before Finch pulls his gaze away from the other boy.

After playing a few more songs, the concert ended. There was only one thing in Albert’s mind, which was talking to Finch. Race and Albert quickly put their disguise back on before the crowd had realized who they were as they exited the venue. The three stay behind as the venue gets emptied, Race and Katherine making quick work with their fingers on their phones to contact their friends backstage.

Jojo was the first to respond to either of them. He said that Finch is smoking behind the venue alone. One could only assume that he’s not in his best state after spontaneously choosing to sing that single. But Jojo assured them that he’s still good to talk to. Crutchie then responded, saying that Specs and Mike can pick them up to get them into the backstage.

It didn’t take them long, but Albert wasn’t keen on seeing the others right now. After being pointed towards the back door, Albert was already off. Adrenaline coursing through his veins as he makes quick steps towards it.

He gently opens the door, to avoid surprising the boy in case he was nearby. Albert steps out to a parking lot, open-spaced with another parking lot above it as its roof. At a first glance it was completely empty, only a few lights turned on to keep the area lit. His eyes gandered even further and spotted the boy he was looking for, back facing Al and his body leaning on metal bars as he enjoyed the nightlife of the city.

Albert took a deep breath to calm his adrenaline, slowing down his walking pace. The area is eerily quiet. Only a few things that can be heard: his footsteps, his thumping heart, and the sounds coming from the streets three stories below them. With every step closer, he slowly unraveled his makeshift disguise. Shoving his mask and glasses in the pockets of his jeans but left the snapback on.

“‘Loving him was red’” Albert said to catch Finch’s attention, “Did you mean it to be that obvious?”

Finch didn’t fully turn his head around, only halfway so Al can see the little grin of amusement forming on his face. A little chuckle escaped his lips, causing his chest to pulse along before he continued, “Not really. But it has a nice ring to it”

Albert takes a few steps closer towards the metal bars, leaning his body on it like what Finch is doing. Now he can clearly see the half burnt cigarette on Finch’s hand. Al tries to make eye contact with him, but Finch is purposely turning his head the other way and giving Albert his head full of blond curls.

“You came back” Finch suddenly said, voice hushed and low.

“Of course I came back” Albert replied, “You didn’t think I’d fully leave like that, did’ja?”

“Well, no. It’s just that you seemed so hellbent on going to college”

Albert slowly nods at that, moving his gaze towards the streets below like the other boy. They sit in the silence for a few minutes. Hearing different vehicles pass by the street below them and honking from the distance.

“Finch, I’m so sorry I left ya like that” Albert suddenly started, fully turning his face towards him. He couldn’t find a way to word it and so he resorted to just telling him the truth. Finch stays quiet to let him continue, “I was an idiot to let ya go that easily and all because I was selfish”

“You weren’t actually being selfish” Finch said, smiling a little at his words, “You did it because you wanted to. And it wasn’t hurting anyone anyways”

“It did. It hurt you”

Finch turns his head towards Albert. Now their eyes are looking into each other closer than before. The closest they’ve ever been since their breakup. A mixture of unsaid emotions made the gaze feel so intimate and it terrifies Al a bit.

“I hurt myself trying to get you to stay” Finch said softly. His next words got stuck in his throat. He gives his brain a few seconds to focus with a sigh out of his mouth and dragging his gaze away from Al, “I knew you never wanted to get that engineering degree in the first place which is another reason I didn’t want you to go. But at the end of the day, it was your decision to make and not mine. I lashed out on you and said you were selfish but… I was the one that was being selfish”

Finch turns his eyes back towards Al, his face looks more sorrowful than before, “I’m sorry”

A small smile formed on Al’s face, tilting his head to the side by a few inches, “It ain’t your fault for knowing me more than I know myself”

They leave the conversation at that for the time being. Letting the streets below fill the void of their silence. Both boys focusing their gaze towards the view they got from this height they’re on again. Finch and Albert left speechless at each other’s words.

Albert’s hands unconsciously reach up to his forehead, itching to pick a pimple like earlier. His next words almost got stuck in his throat but he was able to pull through just enough to get to his point, “Well, at the end of the day we uhh… we both fucked up. Fucked our relationship, that’s for sure-”

“Stop picking on your pimples, Al” Finch casually said. The surprise look on Al’s face got Finch to side eye him with a giggle.

Al pulled his fingers away, stuttering in his movements but still continued on his words with more confidence, “What I’m trying to say is… I want to try again as long as you’re willing to”

There was a good few seconds of silence that Finch used to just stare at him. Albert could only wonder what he’s thinking about inside that head, “So we just… what? Forget the breakup ever happened? Move back in together? You know I can’t just do that, right?”

“That’s not what I mean. We don’t need to rush things. I know you can’t do that” Albert said, “Just… let me start by making it up to you? Whatever you want. Just name it”

Finch didn’t respond instantly, letting the silence between them linger for a few more minutes. But it’s deeply agonizing to Albert’s ears. A blank space of two eyes locked in a gaze, and one is obviously dying to get out of it.

“Please, say something” Albert begged. Hands suddenly reaching back up to his face to pick on his pimples again.

With a free hand, Finch reaches towards Al’s hand on his face. He pulls it down to the bars, holding it in place to make sure it doesn’t repeat its mistakes again. The grip was firm, but warm and calming to Albert’s soul. It made him go blank for a good few seconds from being so touch deprived of Finch’s soft hands. He retains his sense of reality when their eyes finally meet again.

With a little smile forming on Finch’s face, he finally answers, “I’d like that very much”

#random writing #newsies #redfinch #redfinch newsies #albert dasilva #albert newsies #finch cortez #finch newsies #tw cursing #tw alcohol #tw cigarettes #tw angst #validate me pls and thanku:)#unless you don't ship redfinch #which is understandable

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bonnieparkerofficial · 4 years

Note

14 with your fav ship :)

Well just pretend this didn’t take me months because of mental health! Also I forgot the exact prompt, except that it had to do with parties, so this was made. This is kind of a oneshot to some angsty moodboards for @crutchie-with-a-y. The moodboards should be up soon, and if you guys want more oneshots based on them, hit me up. I’ll write more when I post the moodboards, but this is it for now.

A/N: I have anxiety when it comes to sharing writing and it’s 1 am, so I’m sorry if it sucks.

TW: underage drinking (they’re seniors in high school, although it doesn’t explicitly say that), mentions of NSFW/making out but nothing detailed

Albert DaSilva realized he loved his best friend at a party. He met his friend’s bright blue eyes over a game of beer pong, and Albert realized he was stupidly in love with Racetrack Higgins. He grinned, allowing his friend to pull him over towards the table, as a new game was set up. If anyone at Bowery High were to ask who the best beer pong partners were, everyone would be sure to tell you it was Albert and Race. It was always Albert and Race. From foster homes to unaccepting parents. From failed tests to bad breakups it had always been the two of them.

The music was pounding all around them, Race was grinning as they set up the next game against Finch and JoJo, and Albert knew he was gone on his friend. He was so intent on watching Race’s blue eyes light up, the light magnifying his golden curls; that suddenly Albert found his heart racing faster than ever. Albert had been so caught up in the beauty that was his best friend that he missed Finch giving him the same lovestruck expression.

Three weeks later and Albert found himself at another party, staring at his beautiful best friend once again. Except this time Race was playing beer pong with the football captain. Their lovestruck grins matching each other’s. And when they won the round, sharing a passionate kiss, Albert felt sick.

“So Spot and Race huh?” A quiet voice asked, causing Albert to turn and look at the source of his startled state. It was Finch.

“Yeah, guess so.” Came Albert’s gruff reply. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Finch, it’s just that he saw his best friend kiss someone else, another painful reminder that Race was never going to love him back.

“It sucks, doesn’t it? When the person you love is so close, but you can’t have them.” Finch randomly blurted, a faraway tone in his voice.

“Yeah, guess so. That’s life though.” Albert muttered, too tired and heartbroken to decipher the true meaning behind Finch’s words.

“I lo-like you, you know? As in, have a crush on you. It’s why I go to so many baseball games,” Finch whispered. Less than a moment later, he gasped, feeling Albert’s lips crash onto his own. He kissed back, and a minute later Albert was dragging him upstairs, throwing him onto a bed. Albert locked the door, stalking over towards the curly haired boy lying on the bed.

It was the moment Finch had dreamed of. He had wanted Albert’s lips on his for so long, the alcohol on their breaths mixing slightly. He happily agreed to everything, hoping this would be the moment Albert realized he was in love with Finch. But when Albert moaned out Race’s name, Finch forced himself to pretend it didn’t happen; only crying once he was alone in the bedroom.

Tagging: @crutchie-with-a-y @luv-ya-hun @thespacegeranium @pulitzers-world @tha-woild-is-yer-erster @thewoildsyaerster @disney-princess-sized @buttonsdelaguerra @smallrunningmachine @bottlealleytotheharbor @what-if-i-says-we-is @withsome-payback @nerdy-gay-shit @snakeyboimusical

#newsies #newsies au #sprace #one sided ralbert #one sided redfinch #albert dasilva #racetrack higgins #spot conlon #finch cortez #angst i guess

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mar-bluu · 4 years

Note

So uhh... are you still taking requests? I have a prompt i think you’ll like

Yep! Still taking requests! And id love to hear the prompt!! :33

#asks!#im still working on redfinch angst lmao #im like 1500 words in and my brain stopped #but its coming!!!#gendistic42 #:))

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auspicioustarantula · 5 years

Text

enough

ship: redfinch

era: canon | genre: angst

word count: 1.7k

edited: ??no??

warnings: major character death, stab wound, blood

yeehaw i love hurting him.......enjoy :)

“Oh—oh, God.”

The air surrounding Albert was disgustingly sticky and much too warm for spring. His legs still ached from last night, hiking up and down the Lodging House staircases. It always helped him when he couldn’t sleep, and he knew he was up well past three in the morning by the time he fell asleep. Albert had begged Finch to let him skip his morning paper route, even going as far as offering him an extra nickel if he wanted to take Albert’s fifty papers. Of course, he declined, and promised he would be back to check on Albert later in the day.

Later in the day seemed to come and go without so much as a passing glance of Finch. Albert grunted as he finally dragged himself out of the bottom bunk he shared with Race, throwing on a vest that didn’t belong to him, and, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, started down the stairs again. His calves burned with every step and he silently cursed his nighttime habit.

As he stepped out of the lodging house, Albert had to squeeze his eyes shut. The sunlight, directly overhead, seemed to force its way directly into the back of his skull. When was the last time he had gotten up after the sun? Nevermind it. It felt good to take even half of a rest day.

“Hey, Albert? Hey, look at me, Albert, please—” Finch’s voice is soft and there seems to be a lot of other noises going on, too. Albert can feel Finch’s hands tugging at his shirt, but he can only feebly wrap his fingers around them, bringing them up to his lips.

Noon, Albert thought. Noon. It was the first and only thought that ran through his head for quite some time. Trekking down the streets and alleys of Manhattan, Albert was able to enjoy the city for the first time without trying to hawk a paper or fifty. Occasionally, he would see another newsie that he vaguely recognized but couldn’t name—though he shared the territory with several younger children, the gaping buildings and long, dust-filled streets of Manhattan were his.

They were tall, the Delancey brothers, and they seemed to take up too much space in the street. Albert spotted them a long time before they saw him and quickly ducked out of the way behind a large man with a cane that thumped every time it hit the ground. When he had the chance, Albert found himself slipping into an alley so thin he had to turn sideways to pass through it.

He wouldn’t have admitted that he was afraid of the Delancey’s—though large, they were aloof and talked a big game. But there was something about Morris’s steel gaze and Oscar’s deep-set brows that sent a chill down his spine when he was alone. Backed up by the other newsies he would have been content to walk down the street and spit at their shoes. By himself, though? He wasn’t going to risk it.

“Darling, can you move?”

Albert shakes his head very softly, coughing. There’s a sudden sharp taste in his mouth, something recognizably tangy and bitter—he’s tasted it before, in fistfights, and one time when he was younger and bit down on his tongue too hard. He can feel the blood on the back of his teeth and with a deep breath, coughs again. It dribbles down his chin and he shakily reaches up a hand to wipe it.

Finch pulls Albert close into his lap and catches the blood with his thumb instead. Albert shakes his head instead and looks down at his stomach. He closes his eyes when Finch lets out a whimper, loosening his grip on his torso.

He’d picked a fight with the Delancey’s more than once, usually nothing more than a scrape, just boys looking for an adrenaline rush. More often than not, they knew when to back off, when the punches started getting too hard, when the bones started snapping and the blood started getting on already scuffed-up clothes. Perhaps the brothers truly had a more malicious intent underneath, but it never seemed to show. The newsies could easily outnumber them if they so pleased. They traveled in groups, four or five boys and girls assigned to a specific borough. Someone was bound to always be in earshot of a good yell if something went wrong.

They took care of each other, Albert knew. If someone got hurt, there was always an older newsie with some sort of medical expertise. It might not be fancy hospitals with clean linen sheets and medicine that made the pain go completely away, but it was better than nothing.

Albert pushed himself through the other side of the alley and appeared in another. This alley, though bigger, was still hidden from the main streets. Even though he thought he knew the city like the back of his hand, the name of the street it was connected to escaped his brain. Never again, he thought to himself, would he take the liberty of sleeping in a couple of extra hours. It was just too disorienting. Having just this one thing out of place messed up his schedule and who he thought he was. He couldn’t seem to keep track of anything.

“Dirty boy, we didn’t see you swindle your way out of your newspaper stack this morning.”

Albert stiffened. He could hear Oscar’s voice from a mile away—it was nasally and the sound of it made Albert’s heart stop cold. Don’t let them know you’re scared, his brain said. He turned himself around and crossed his arms over his chest, holding his ground. “What, did you miss me?”

“Don’t—don’t let go,” Albert stutters, but Finch is already moving, trying to assess the situation.

“Al, you—you’se hurt real bad,” Finch says, shaking his head. “I gotta get someone—”

Albert lets out a cry and reaches for Finch again, trying to pull him back. “I’m not…I ain’t going…nowhere, Finch. I just—” A moan escapes him and he falls back into the blonde, who wraps his arm around Albert’s chest. His skin there is simply bruised, not torn like it is lower in his stomach. “Don’t leave. Don’t you dare.” Albert’s words are barely above a whisper. He clings to Finch, digging his fingers into his arms like he’s afraid if he lets go for even a moment that he’ll leave him here, alone.

Alone got the boys hurt. Oscar and Morris closed the gap between them with easy strides, gliding across the street. Their crossed arms and wide stance mimicked Albert’s exactly. “No, we was glad you weren’t there,” Morris said. His voice was deeper, gravellier. It was raspy. “Sure brings my morning down a notch seeing your ugly mug.”

Morris’s fist hit Albert’s jaw before he could react. Within seconds, Albert found himself wrestling with the taller boy—not looking for a fight, but simply trying to get his oppressor off of him. The alleyway suddenly seemed a lot smaller when they were tussling on the ground. Slowly, scraping nails and jutting elbows and the occasional bite from Albert wormed their way into the fight.

Morris wasn’t stronger, but Albert’s disorientation let him have the upper hand. “Heya, dirty boy,” he mocked, grinning as he wrapped one arm around Albert’s throat and the other around his torso. Albert struggled in Morris’s grip and watched as a cruel smile unfolded itself on Oscar’s face. Oscar stepped closer, cocking his head to one side as he reached toward his side, pulling something out of his pocket. The knife’s edge glinted in the sunlight.

A slow smile rolled onto Albert’s face. He could taste blood on his lips, but never mind that—he wasn’t afraid any more. As tough as the brothers seemed to be, he knew that an action like this was all show. There’s no way Oscar had the guts to plunge the blade into his stomach.

“I’m not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart. I got you.” Finch slowly starts to rock Albert back and forth, digging his nose into his hair. A gentle melody stirs in the back of his throat, notes fluttering in the air mixed with a gentle “shh, shh,” every time Albert whimpers.

Finch moves the hand on Albert’s chest up to his face, stroking his tear-stained skin. He’s stopped crying. Maybe the pain has finally settled in, or maybe he’s just too weak now. Every breath he takes gets slower and Finch can practically hear him wheezing.

“Hey, Finchie? I’m—I’m gonna be okay, right? Right with you?”

Morris’s grip tightened as his low chuckle turned into a laugh, matched by Oscar’s. Damn, they weren’t twins, but they sure acted like it sometimes.

It happened quickly, the way Morris pushed him forward, the way Albert stumbled with outstretched hands, the way Oscar’s knife slid under his ribcage. Everything after those moments slowed down: Oscar’s mouth, in a gaping hole, the shriek that came from Morris, Albert looking down at the knife, free from Oscar’s grip, stuck in his abdomen. It took a moment for the paint to register and during that moment, all boys were silent, frozen in fear and disbelief.

Oscar made the first move, sinking down in front of Albert. He reached for his knife, pulling it out of Albert’s stomach, knitting his eyebrows together. He then stood up and looked at Morris behind him, shaking his head. As Albert started making noise, Oscar’s hand flailed at his sides, and both boys took off running.

Finch looks down at the red staining Albert’s striped shirt and presses a kiss to his cheek. “You’re gonna be just fine.”

Albert was right. Oscar and Morris were too scared to actually hurt him—on purpose, that is. But his stomach had stopped hurting almost two minutes ago—or was it five? He can’t tell. He can’t tell anything, and he doesn’t quite care to. All that matters now was that he’s safe in Finch’s arms, with a lilting hum wandering into his ears. It’s the last thing he hears when he closes his eyes for the last time.

Finch doesn’t move for quite some time, even though he knows Albert’s gone. He’s heavy in his arms, but part of him thinks that if he doesn’t move then he doesn’t have to come to terms with his death.

like this post to be added to my taglist!

#redfinch #albert #albert dasilva #finch #finch cortes #patrick cortes #newsies #newsies live #broadway #trope: angst #era: canon #tw: major character death #tw: blood #tw: major injury #julswrites #anyways id die for al but also id kill him sooooo #what yall want me to do lol #also sorry i cant title fics properly oops!!!!!#i SUCK

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starrysence · 6 years

Text

me: ugh, i can't write for shit

also me: TUMBLR AINT READY FOR THISSSS

#redfinch #finchal #alfi #i am hinting at the upcoming redfinch angst yes #newsies live #newsies 1992 #newsies #newsies broadway

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violetwolfraven · 3 years

Note

Prompt: "You don't have to hide your tears from me" for Redfinch

Mkay! Angst time! Let’s go!! I’m writing this the week after Valentine’s Day!! Woohoo!!

Anyway this takes pre-canon. So... spoiler alert they do get together later along this timeline, but right now it’s angsty and the boys aren’t together yet.

Tw: mentioned abusive parenting, toxic masculinity, unrequited crush.

...

Finch didn’t really understand blood ties. The concept of owing something to your biological family the way some of the other boys seemed to.

He didn’t understand why Albert, Elmer, and Buttons kept going back to their families even though all three of them always came back tired and usually a bit ticked off at best, genuinely upset at worst.

But then again, Finch didn’t remember his family beyond his father’s fists and his mother’s voice yelling at him. He’d run away when he was 6 and never looked back, and now he only thought of them when he was working through a nightmare or an old scar twinged in the cold weather.

The newsies weren’t exactly a family, he guessed, considering most of them weren’t blood, but they were like one. Better than most families, in some ways, with how Jack and Crutchie took care of the others and though sometimes jokes were at friends’ expense, it was never in a mean way. They were ride or die for each other.

Maybe that was what a family was supposed to be, but Finch knew he’d never seen blood family that was like that. He sure knew that the only people he was ride or die for were the ones he’d chosen.

He really hated seeing the people he’d chosen hurting. Especially when it was because of their so called ‘families.’

He hated seeing when Elmer came back from his parents’ house reserved and quiet, acting surprised when his friends actually paid attention to him, and he hated how exhausted Buttons always was, practically falling asleep on his feet.

But most of all, he hated how defensive and angry Albert always was when he came home from his dad’s house. How he acted for a good couple days afterwards, like any emotion other than anger was weakness.

This morning seemed to be an especially bad day, and everyone could see it. Even Wiesel and the Delanceys wisely avoided antagonizing him too much, knowing by the look in his eyes how bad of an idea it would be to mess with him today. The other newsies were giving him space, and honestly, the fact that they were letting him on the streets today at all was a little questionable.

Finch knew Albert. He knew how that boy’s words could be just as dangerous as his fists, and could get him into more trouble. It was useful sometimes, Albert’s uncanny ability to say exactly the right thing to start a fight. It was good for causing distractions if they were running from someone or to divert away from a topic he or a friend didn’t want to talk about. Finch actually was impressed with how he could always do that without fail.

But he really didn’t feel like helping his friend escape the Refuge again. Not today.

So, after a morning of watching him seethe with anger over... something involving his dad and brothers, Finch pulled him aside in an alley, putting his papes down on a crate and blocking the way out to keep Albert from leaving.

“What’s wrong?”

“What do ya mean ‘what’s wrong?’ Nothin’s wrong. I’m fine.”

Albert tried to shove past him, clearly getting more annoyed when he didn’t let him.

“Move.”

“No,” Finch crossed his arms, “Not till you tell me what’s wrong.”

“We’re gonna miss the mornin’ rush cause you’s seein’ things,” Albert urged, trying to escape again, “Nothin’s wrong, Finch. Move.”

“No.”

“Move!”

“No.”

“Just cause you’s sweet on me don’t mean you gotta care ‘bout my problems,” Albert hissed.

Well, that was... unexpected.

Finch still didn’t know how Albert had even found out about his crush—he hadn’t bothered to ask how—but since that time a month ago where Al tried to kiss him and Finch made it clear that he wouldn’t settle for being his rebound guy, they hadn’t spoken of anything involving that. He was pretty sure Albert had been being his friend as a way to make that incident’s thoughtlessness up to him, but neither of them had actually acknowledged that conversation happened.

Bringing it up now was a dick move. Especially considering Finch could tell Albert was still hurting over Race, because he was still in love with him, because of course he was because Finch’s luck was shit.

Well, at least it looked like it was dawning on Albert—albeit slowly—how much of a dick move that was.

“I shouldn’ta said that. Sorry. Still, move.”

Finch let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and shook his head, “No.”

“Please?”

He was a little surprised to hear him say that, but he still refused to move.

“No,” he insisted. “No, cause I know what you’re gonna do if I let ya leave this alley without talkin’. You’ll just bottle it up like ya always do, and then eventually you’ll snap on somebody and pretend you’re mad when you’re actually scared or sad. And besides the fact that you can’t last like that—it ain’t healthy—that ain’t fair to the others and I’d rather it be me you yell at than one of them.”

Albert scoffed, “I do not bottle—“

“Yes, you do,” Finch interrupted, “And it used to be Race who made ya let it out before ya snapped on someone who couldn’t handle it, but you and him don’t talk no more lately for obvious reasons, so I guess it’s gotta be me.”

It hurt that Albert didn’t trust him enough to talk the way everyone knew he used to with Race, but Finch didn’t let it show. He knew firsthand how secrets could burn holes in you. He himself confided in Henry, Tommy Boy, and Sniper when he needed someone to talk to. And he would like to be able to confide in Albert someday, but...

Trust went both ways. Admittedly, he had trouble with trust some days, so maybe it wasn’t fair that he was asking Albert to trust him.

Maybe he needed to give a little to show it was okay.

“Look, I... I know what it’s like to get hurt by somebody who’s supposed to care ‘bout you,” he admitted, “My mom and pop weren’t exactly... they... I know what I went through ain’t the same as what’s goin’ on with you now, but I’m only gonna ask you one more time: what’s wrong?”

Albert was still staring him down like he thought he could get him to back out, but Finch did see a flicker of surprise at the little piece of his past he’d confessed.

Nobody in Manhattan knew his past. He’d made sure he left all that behind in Flushing. He was sure plenty of the fellas—Albert included—had guessed the general idea, but no matter how bad the nightmares got some times of the year, Finch always tried to focus on just the right now’s problems.

He had that in common with Tommy Boy, Henry, and Sniper. Their ‘just the four of them’ talks always danced around what they were actually upset about, because openly talking about families or parents or home lives, past or present, was just too painful. That was why they gravitated to each other. Because they were the only ones who could figure out what the others meant by what they actually said. Sure, Jack took care of everybody, but he was too busy with taking care of the whole damn borough to have time to figure out their mind games. Crutchie was still trying, but he had duties as one of Manhattan’s seconds, too. Everybody else had either given up or didn’t care enough to try in the first place.

Albert knew all that. Or... he knew how much Finch was letting down his guard, openly telling him even that little.

He gave up on trying to make him back down and looked at the ground with an angry huff.

“It don’t matter, okay? Nothin’ Ben and John ain’t said to me before.”

“So it’s not a problem with your dad?” Finch asked, relieved. Sure, Albert’s brothers were technically adults, but they weren’t a big threat.

He scoffed, “No, of course not. Dad’d have to actually look at me to give me problems. Which he don’t. Practically ever. I remind him too much of Mom, as if that’s my fuckin’ fault.”

The anger in his voice was dripping with sadness, and it broke Finch’s heart. Albert didn’t deserve that.

But that was more of a long-term problem. Right now, it wasn’t what he was most upset about.

“So... Ben and John?”

“Oh, yeah,” Albert said sarcastically, “Y’know, they both had their first sweethearts by the time they was my age, so it’s hilarious to dump on how Albert’s gonna die alone. John’s gonna marry Thea, so it’s a great time to laugh ‘bout me not havin’ anyone to bring to the wedding like how Ben’s got Elizabeth. And it’s all in good fun, so I’m too goddamn defensive for gettin’ mad about it! Yeah, I’m the irrational one despite how I ain’t the one who started it!”

If he was this upset about a few little jabs from his brothers, that meant it wasn’t actually about them at all, and Finch probably should have tried to make him talk before now.

If the heartbreak he was trying to hide by keeping his face turned to the dirt was any indication, this was about Race. And that stung a bit, but it was clearly still burning at Albert.

Finch could deal with his own unreturned feelings. Sure, it hurt, but it was nothing he hadn’t been feeling for months. And he’d gotten rejected before, so it wasn’t anything new.

But Albert had never felt this before. He was volatile and emotional and he didn’t know how to express it any way but with anger because that was how he’d been raised. To his credit, he’d tried to push the others away, knowing his own tendency to lash out, but Finch hadn’t let him push him away.

Finch prided himself on his ability to read people, so he could tell exactly how gone Albert had been over Race. He could tell how much that was hurting him now, how much it was tearing him apart, and...

And Albert was crying.

“Al—“

“Shut up,” Albert snapped, even though his voice trembled.

Three years since he’d come to Manhattan. Finch had seen most of his friends cry in that time, but not Albert.

Admittedly... he wasn’t sure what to do. The others usually gave him a sign whether to leave them alone or try to comfort them, but the thing about Albert was that he craved affection but would never be caught dead admitting it. He hated letting anyone see him as anything other as unshakable even if he was on the verge of collapse.

They were just standing there in that alleyway, a couple feet apart, Albert staring hard at the ground as his shoulders shook and tears dripped off his face and Finch frozen, no clue what to do.

“Al,” he said hesitantly, “It’s okay to cry.”

“No. It ain’t right for a boy.”

“Really?” Finch risked taking a step closer, reaching out a hand slowly.

Albert clearly saw him, but didn’t back away or stop him, allowing Finch put a comforting hand on his arm.

“That ain’t what you told me,” he pointed out, “That time when I woke ya up with a nightmare. You just hugged me till I could breathe again.”

“That was different,” Albert shot back, finally looking back up to look him in the eyes, “You was hurtin’.”

“And you’re not hurtin’ now? Al, look me in the eyes and tell me you’re not breakin’ up inside.”

He didn’t. Or... couldn’t.

“Albert,” Finch said quietly, “You don’t have to hide your tears from me.”

He still looked like he wanted to hide them, but instead, he leaned forward, kind of head-butting Finch in the shoulder except he left his face there, his tears soaking through the fabric.

Finch would be lying if he said that his heart didn’t skip a beat at the contact but he shook it off, focusing on how that was a pretty clear signal that this was okay.

“It’s okay, Al,” Finch whispered, wrapping his arms around him.

He didn’t say that it would get better or that Albert would find someone else who’d love him back. He knew that saying those things didn’t make heartbreak any better.

Just being there, being a friend, being a shoulder to cry on, was better for now.

#newsies #redfinch #albert dasilva #finch cortes #angst #toxic masculinity tw #abusive parents tw #unrequited crush tw #violet’s writing

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newsiesficchallenges · 4 months

Text

Leg of Lamb

Welcome to the Leg of Lamb Event Week! The week begins January 30 and ends February 6 at midnight.

The ship for this week is…Ralbert! All other related concepts- Race-focused content, Albert-focused content, their individual stories- may be featured, along with the characters and general context of the Newsies fandom!

Acceptable submissions for the week include written works, artwork, and playlists (if interested in submitting a creation of another variation, please refer to the rules/FAQ or ask moderators).

There are no specific days for any specific AUs or themes, but some ideas and suggestions include: childhood best friends, soulmates, enemies to lovers, unrequited love. You may include any other characters or tropes, but please try to keep the focus on either the ship itself or the characters directly involved.

Due to the specificity of this week, please refrain from works that heavily feature another related ship as the main plot point (ie. Sprace, Redfinch). If it is present as a reason for angst, that is acceptable. Please do not write a Sprace fic just because you aren’t a Ralbert fan. There will be opportunities for those types of work at a later date.

The collection will be posted January 23 on AO3! You may submit finished works to this collection before January 30, but they will not be announced or displayed until the week officially begins.

FAQ

Rules

#92sies #livesies #newsies #newsies 1992 #uksies #west end newsies #west endsies #newsies event weeks #1992sies #ralbert #racetrack x albert #race higgins #racetrack newsies #racetrack higgins #albert newsies #albert da silva #albert dasilva

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lesjacobs · 3 years

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Gimme the newsies fic recs blease? 👉👈

This is really long, sorry. I’ll post the second half of my fic rec soon.

Name: Keeping Promises

Link:

Rating: Mature

Characters: Jack Kelly, David Jacobs, Katherine Plumber, Racetrack Higgins, Crutchie Morris, Spot Conlon, Sarah Jacobs, Buttons, Smalls, Les Jacobs, Mayer Jacobs, Esther Jacobs, Medda Larkin, Bryan Denton

Ships: David Jacobs/Jack Kelly, Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - FBI, Modern Era, Enemies To Lovers, Enemies To Friends To Lovers, Childhood Trauma, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Francis Sullivan’s A+ Parenting, Judaism, Jewish David Jacobs, Warning: Republicans, Jack and David hate each other at first, except not really, Jack hates David and David is confused, I recognize that I’m writing about law enforcement but also...defund the police, Cancer, It’s not David or Jack but it appears in the plot

Summary: David Jacobs is desperate to leave the past behind, so when he gets offered a promotion and a transfer out of town, he takes it. Now he has to deal with a new city, a new job, a criminal investigation so big that all three branches of the federal government might have to get involved, and - perhaps worst of all - Special Agent Jack Kelly.

My Extra Comments: Okay it’s been a hot minute since I read this but I think the Republicans are only mentioned once or twice, so they don’t make a huge impact on the story.

Name: Oh, It’s You

Link:

Rating: Teen

Characters: Spot Conlon, Racetrack Higgins, Albert DaSilva, Jack Kelly, David Jacobs, Crutchie, Romeo, all the newsies tbh

Ships: Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins

Additional Tags: Slight angst and then a lot of angst later, background javid, background blush, background redfinch, background spromeo, background newsbians, Reincarnation AU, High School AU, Nightmares, background ikeshot, background jomike, background belmerttons, They all die, but don’t worry they all come back, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Race is well aware that his friend group is strange. For one thing, they’re the entirety of their school’s drama club. For another, there’s always a sense of deja vu when a friend joins the group. A kind of... “oh, it’s you. Welcome home. Why did you stay away so long?” It doesn’t at all feel like meeting someone for the first time.

Then Race meets a boy in his 1st period class who gives him a feeling way stronger than just a vague sense of deja vu.

My Extra Comments: I put this in my ‘to recommend’ list twice if that counts for anything. Also there’s a sequel now.

Name: Stare Down The Odds, May They Be In Your Favor

Link:

Rating: Mature

Characters: David Jacobs, Jack Kelly, Les Jacobs, Katherine Plumber, Medda Larkin, Kloppman, Smalls, Oscar Delancey, Morris Delancey, Joseph Pulitzer, Wiesel, Sarah Jacobs, Esther Jacobs, Mayer Jacobs, Bryan Denton

Ships: David Jacobs/Jack Kelly

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Canon-Typical Violence, Violence, Character Death, Graphic Violence, Child Death, Heavy Angst, Major Character Injury, Permanent Injury, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Developing Relationship, Battlefield medicine, Mild gore, Suicidal thoughts, Post-Tramatic Stress Disorder - PTSD

Summary: "And the second Hunger Games Tribute from the Manhattan District is...Les Jacobs!"

Davey's entire world freezes. No, not Les. Anyone but Les. Anyone... "I volunteer! I volunteer as Tribute!"

---

Newsies in Hunger Games setting.

My Extra Comments: This is probably my favorite fanfic ever, I’m not exaggerating. The tags may seem like a lot, but it’s literally just The Hunger Games. The plot is so well developed and I’ve read this ten times. The authors also done the second book and is currently working on the third. I very very very very very very very highly recommend this.

Name: All This Time Did More Than Pass Us By

Link:

Rating: Teen

Characters: David Jacobs, Jack Kelly, Racetrack Higgins, Spot Conlon, Katherine Plumber, Mush Meyers, Kid Blink, Albert DaSilva, Romeo, Specs, Sarah Jacobs, Les Jacobs, Elmer, Smalls

Ships: David Jacobs/Jack Kelly, Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins, Kid Blink/Mush Meyers, Romeo/Specs

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Modern Era, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Alternate Universe - College/University, Other Additional Tags To Be Added, Trans Character, Trans Racetrack Higgins, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Elmer, Underage Drinking, Enemies To Friends To Lovers, Friends To Lovers, Friendship, Mentions of/reference to homophobia

Summary: New York, 1899.

David Jacobs fights alongside his fellow newsies. He is with them. His voice is sore from yelling, his legs are tired from running.

New York, 2019.

David Jacobs wakes up in the middle of the night. He is alone. His hands are shaking, his forehead is burning up, and he suddenly remembers names and faces he should not know.

Flashes of memories are making their way through his mind, flying through at a rapid pace. He’s walking through central park, holding hands with Sarah in pigtails. Then he’s running through the same surroundings, laughter in his chest, adrenaline shooting through his veins, and with the figure of someone much larger than Sarah running alongside him.

My Extra Comments: abdksjsjshsjsv I love this so much

Name: Lines

Link:

Rating: Teen

Characters: Spot Conlon, Racetrack Higgins, Jack Kelly, Kid Blink, Mush Meyers, David Jacobs, Tommy Higgins (oc)

Ships: Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins, Kid Blink/Mush Meyers, David Jacobs/Jack Kelly, Albert DaSilva/Elmer, Buttons/Henry, Mike/JoJo, Ike/Finch

Additional Tags: Angst, So much angst, Soulmate AU, Soulmate- Identitying Marks, Every kind of Soulmate AU, Spot’s the angst this time, Autistic character, Autistic Spot, Mental Health Issues, Implied/Refernced Child Abuse, Implied Relationships, The Newsies and Mental Health Issues, Trans Jack Kelly, Autistic Mush, Deaf Jack, Snyder is evil, what else is new, why did I do this?, APSS is messed up, You thought you hated Snyder?, Protective Race, Marvel - Freeform, Star Wars - Freeform, Spot loves Carrie Fisher just like the rest of us, All the cuddles, Spot needs love, Sharing a bed, meltdowns, Race is the best, Race’s little brother is a little shit, Hospitals, a given at this point, but ANGST TRAIN IS PULLING OUT OF THE STATION, There will be more pain, choo choo, Implied/Refernced Self-Harm, I never tagged those?, Fluff and angst

Summary: Racetrack Higgins had a soulmate.

They had deep, beautiful brown eyes. They didn’t have a good living situation, if the dark brown spots that covered his back and slashes over his ribs were anything to go by. They were ambidextrous, and they had been cutting neat lines into their arms since Race was 14.

Spot Conlon had a soulmate.

They had bright blue eyes, never seemed to get hurt badly, and were perfect. In every way, Spot was convinced. They wouldn't want him. He was convinced of that too.

My Extra Comments: I cried both times I read this

#newsies #92sies #newsies 1992 #newsies broadway #newsies movie #1992sies #newsies strike #david jacobs #racetrack higgins #sarah jacobs #jack kelly #spot conlon #newsies fic recs #newsies fanfiction

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