#Albert DaSilva’s father

[somedayonbroadway]

Okay so in one of my rps, Race is from an abusive family (Mom died when he was 4, dad was abusive as hell) and he ran away one night to avoid getting killed and Albert (With his dad, he was like, 10, Race was 8), found him curled up in an alleyway sobbing. They took him in. Can you maybe... write a lil on it?

Of course, my love!

Here we are, let me know if you like it!

Race was shivering by the garbage can. He was wrapped up in an old tarp that someone had thrown out. It smelled like old bananas and cheap cologne. He knew it was about to start raining. The clouds were swirling over him and he cuddled up even more, whimpering when he felt his broken wrist again. He sniffled and began to cry again, wishing his daddy would come and find him and apologize. Maybe he would take him home and give him a nice warm blanket and the soup that mama used to make.

But the poor child knew that would never happen. He just wanted to be warm and safe and now he was terrified the monsters in the dark would come and get him. Just swallow him whole like he was nothing.

So he just started crying. Daddy said crying was for babies. He said Race shouldn’t be crying because he had things other kids didn’t. But the boy couldn’t stop, hiccuping and fisting at his cheeks.

The poor kid tried to close his eyes, but he sobbed even harder when he remembered the way his father had looked at him. The way the man had charged at him with that broken beer bottle, how the eight year old had to climb out the window to get away. He knew something bad would’ve happened. Something really bad. Still, for some reason, he wanted to go back. Maybe he would at least be warm.

He wished he could watch his favorite television shows, where the kids always went home to the parents who he couldn’t ever see the faces off, but they’d always scoop up the kids like him and hug them and the kids were always so happy. Instead, he was sure the darkness would come for him as the rain began to fall.

But someone tapped on his tarp, making him gasp and scramble away. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” he wailed. “I’m sorry, I’ll be quiet!”

“No, no,” another boy assured, his flaming red hair sticking to his forehead because of the rain. “It’s okay! I'm sorry… I’m Albert, who are you?”

The little boy shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he whimpered again.

“No, what’s your name? My papa and I saw you and we thought you needed help, can we help you?”

Race stared at him with wide blue eyes, his pale face made the color even more haunting and vibrant. “H-help?” he asked.

The man behind Albert shushed him and took off his giant jacket, taking Race’s tarp off of him and sighed when he found the child in only a pair of ripped underwear. He gently scooped the boy up and wrapped him in his jacket, holding him in one arm and keeping a hand wrapped around Albert’s to guide him home.

The little blond boy was too tired to do anything but cry and cuddle into the warmth. He whimpered and gripped tightly at the jacket. And before he knew it, he was in a warm bath, the water making his skin feel tingly as Albert rushed in with too many bath toys and the old man with the fading red hair gently washed the boy. Race yawned as Albert splashed a rubber duck around in front of his new friend. “This is Spongie! He loves water! And this is Klive, his arch nemesis! You wanna play?”

Race stared at the duckies, barely even able to understand the words being spoken to him. He was too relaxed at the hands massaging shampoo into his golden curls. He was wearing swim trunks that he didn’t recognize and he felt cold and hot all at once. “Daddy?”

“Don’t worry, a leanbh,” the old man whispered in a thick accent Race had never heard before. “We can get you back to your daddy, do you know where he is?”

“He was real mad at me,” Race whimpered as more tears started to fall down his face. “He hurt my arm…”

The old man nodded. “Yeah, I can see that, don’t try to move it. We’re gonna call some very nice people who can help us.”

Albert began to put on a whole story for Race. “And then Klive goes like this!” And Race laughed tiredly, leaning into the old man taking care of him. “Yeah, he’s goofy. You like him?” The littler boy nodded.

“Yeah… can we play again?” Race asked as his eyes began to slide closed.

Albert frowned. “Is he okay, Pa?”

The old man nodded. “Yeah… he just needs some rest. It’s okay, now,” he whispered. “Close your eyes, child.”

Race couldn’t fight against that soft command. He let his eyes close, hoping that he would wake up and be warm.

[incorrectuksies]

finch: think albert, how can we raise some money?

albert: hmmmm.

finch: yes? are you thinking what i'm thinking?

albert: i think so finch!

albert: wait though, i'm not sure...

finch: what, why?

albert: well, it is a big step, and where are we going to get the guns?

finch: WHAT!? what are you talking about?

albert: oh wait. i might have been thinking about something different.

finch: ...you thought we were going to rob a bank, didn't you?

[newsiesautismfrfr]

In a different universe Albert DaSilva is safe

In a different universe he’s still a baby

In a different universe he’s wrapped in his mothers arm while she hums a lullaby

In a different universe his father isn’t cruel and he cares

In a different universe he has a childhood

In a different universe he gets to experience what he never got to; toys, treats, a warm bed and kisses from his parents

In a different universe Albert DaSilva isn’t a newsie

He isn’t begging for food and getting paid penny’s go survive

He ain’t shivering on the streets

He isn’t in his fathers fighting ring

In a different universe Albert DaSilva has his mama and that’s all that matters

But Albert doesn’t have his mama

He never met her

She never met him

Albert’s mama is gone.

[pigeonwit]

David felt too much.

He had his whole life. He had always been called a ‘sensitive child’; if anyone changed their tone at him or raised their voice ever so slightly, he’d burst into tears, begging them not to be angry with him or asking if they were disappointed. As he grew, he learned that that wasn’t allowed anymore (the mocking from Oscar and Morris in middle school saw to that), and so, David learned to camouflage himself. If someone rolled their eyes at him, or if his joke didn’t land, he’d take the pain he felt and shove it deep, deep down in his stomach, wait for the storm of ‘they hate you they hate you just shut up why are you like this no one wants you SHUT UP’ in his head to calm, and then wait until he was safe in the nearest bathroom stall to hyperventilate into his sleeve. He’d always talk himself down eventually, once all the feelings had leaked out, leaving burning trails on his face and bruises in his chest. And then, he would feel blissfully numb. Tired and deflated and wonderfully empty, for the rest of the day. Everything would blur into the background, leaving him in a peaceful fuzzy euphoria, until he got back to his room and collapsed into his bed, and let the world around him fade away.

As he grew older, though, it was harder to disappear. The house grew louder, and more invasive. His mother would loudly crash around in the kitchen or the laundry room or wherever, desperately searching for some chore she could distract herself with. Les would whine that he was bored, or that he needed help with his homework, or that he was hungry, until David forced himself out of bed to satisfy him. His sister would yell at Les to get out of her room, yell at their mother that she was being unfair, yell at David for doing nothing but hide in his room all day instead of helping the rest of them. Their father never got yelled at, though. Not when he’d shuffle into their rooms without knocking to call them for dinner, not when he shuffled and groaned almost constantly as he tried to find a comfortable position on his new bed on the couch, not when he always looked so bored no matter what was happening, no matter how badly David wanted to scream at him to shut up, stop it, do something, no one ever yelled at their father. And it hurt. It hurt, and ached, and stung, and David felt, felt, felt with nowhere and no way for him to let it out.

The first time he ever spoke to Albert DaSilva, he was sixteen. He’d made it through middle school and almost through high school without ever having to cross the boy’s path, but he supposed that luck ran out over time. David had been trembling, the ten dollars of carefully counted change burning against his palm, and he distinctly remembered shoving his hand out and asking for ‘one weed, please’ with the world’s most perfectly timed voice-crack. Albert had laughed so hard he wound up letting David take the bag for five. David tried to think of it as an act of generosity rather than pity.

David wouldn’t call himself a pothead. He definitely wouldn’t say he was addicted. Technically, he would always remind himself, you couldn’t get addicted to weed. He knew it was a stupid argument – it didn’t matter if something was addictive or not, anyone could get addicted to anything. Still, it made him feel a little less anxious about smoking it, those rare occasions when his feelings were just too much for him and he didn’t have any other way of getting rid of them.

Today is one of those occasions.

David yells a half-hearted ‘going to Albert’s’ into the chaos of the Jacobs’ household, and swings the door closed before anyone can respond – not that anyone ever did. He doubts that they mind, really; he knows it annoys them when he leaves at random points of the day, since that meant one less pair of hands to do chores and deal with their father’s episodes, but he knows they’re also grateful to have one less person to snap at. The winter wind hits him like a thousand tiny needles piercing his face, and David grimaces, pulling his scarf over his mouth. Just a few minutes, he swears to himself. Just a few minutes, and he wouldn’t feel anything at all.

The path into the woods is beaten and muddy, and the number of weeds and bracken coating its edges makes it almost indistinguishable from the forest floor. But for those gifted few, the hikers and the dog walkers and the emotionally stunted teenagers who needed some place quiet to get high, walking the path was as easy as breathing. It wound and twisted its way around the gnarled trees, over the knolls and through the overgrowth, until you found yourself walking along a ledge of ferns and shrubbery. David had it down to a perfect art – he would identify the wild cherry sapling poking its way out of the shrubbery, walk exactly seven paces, find the tiny hollow where some animal had wriggled its way through the shrubbery (David assumes it was a fox, given the tracks and the strands of fur in the brambles), and manage to shove his way between them until he was through the wall of shrubbery and on the bank of a small stream. From there, David would perch himself on a rock, roll his joint, take a drag, and lose himself in the sound of sweet, sweet nothingness.

David groans in relief as the stress begins to seep out of his body; a loud, obnoxious sound that he makes purely for the sake of making it. For being loud without having to worry about someone yelling at him to shut up. The phenomenon of inconsequentiality is a rare one, and David relishes it. He stretches out on his rock and bathes in the silence for no one knows how long. Who’s keeping track? The birds certainly aren’t judging him.

His joint burns down, bit by bit – he blows smoke rings and smiles dopily as they melted away on the wind. He toes the water, splashing at it rhythmically, and then bursts into a giggling fit. Singing water. Babbling brook. Babble was a fun word. Babble. Babblabblabble.

God, his mother would throw a fit if she could see him here.

David giggles again.

[troyssix]

albert dasilva.

albert dasilva who wanted to run as far and fast as his feet would let him so he could get away.

away from his father.

away from everything.

albert dasilva who was a newsie.

alber dasilva who met finch cortez and racetrack higgins.

his best friends.

people who treated him right. people who understood him and talked to him and joked with him and --

albert dasilva who lied awake, silently crying to himself because how could such anazing people exist? how could they want to be around him of all people?

albert dasilva.

[fishcowwrites]

In The Stars - RedFinch Military AU

Albert DaSilva x Finch Cortes from Newsies

2.5k words cross posted on ao3 under cut

Title from the song by Benson Boone which was on repeat as I wrote this to establish ✨vibes✨

Any inaccuracies regarding military death notifications can be taken up with Fort Lee Casualty Assistance Center Casualty Notification Guide for the Casualty Notification Officer pdf from 2013 that I found online.

TW: major character death, mentions of vomiting (non graphic), mentions of self harm (not really graphic)

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When Albert was deployed, Finch was distraught. He didn’t want his husband to leave him, let alone leave their daughter.

“It’s just ten months. Not even a year. I’ll be back before you know.” They were both trying not to cry for the sake of Lily, who was not quite old enough to understand what was happening but not young enough to be ignorant of it all.

“Papa, what’s happening?” Albert knelt down next to her, gently taking her hands.

“I have to go, lilybug. Just for a little bit. Not a long time. I’m coming back soon, ok? Be good for your daddy.” Albert scooped her up, passing her into Finch’s arms. He hugged the two of them, then leaned in for one final kiss. “I’ll see you soon, I promise. Just ten months, yeah?” he spoke quietly, pressing his forehead against his husband’s. Finch nodded, choking back his tears.

“Just ten months.”

Then Albert was leaving, and Lily was crying, and maybe Finch was crying too, but he couldn’t tell. The rest of the day was a blur. The two of them headed back home, where Race and JoJo were waiting. JoJo took a now sleeping Lily to her bed while Race got some water for Finch.

“What if he doesn’t come back? What if I never see him again? What would I tell Lily?” Finch was hyperventilating, his hands shaking as he sobbed. Slowly, Race turned Finch towards him.

“Look at me. Look at me, Finch. Albert will be okay. It’s just ten months. He’ll be fine. I promise.” Race tilted Finch’s head up, nodding with what he hoped was a comforting smile. “Albert will be back before you know it.”

Those were the words that ran through his head when a soldier showed up at his door 7 months later.

“Daddy?” Lily called out. “There’s a man at the door.” Finch ran to the front hall.

“Lilybug, what did I tell you about answering the door? You gotta-“ He froze, taking in the crisp uniform and the stoic expression of the man who wore it. “Can I help you?” The man pursed his lips. “Are you Patrick DaSilva-Cortes?” Slowly, Finch picked up Lily, trying his best to ignore the dread creeping into his bones.

“Yeah, can I help you?”

“I am Captain Sam Robinson from Company A, 2nd Battalion, 21st Ordnance, from Stuttgart, Germany. I have an important message to deliver from the Secretary of the Army. May I come in, Mr. DaSilva-Cortes?"

Finch knew exactly what was happening. He had imagined it in his head over and over, and all the ways it could go, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the shock. It felt like he was drowning, with muffled sound and no air. All he could do was nod.

The captain stepped aside, revealing a younger man dressed in a slightly different uniform.

“This is Chaplain Steve Lewis. Is there somewhere we can sit down to talk?”

Wordlessly, Finch led them the living room, clutching Lily tightly. He moved to sit on the couch before stopping to look at the captain.

“What,” Finch closed his eyes, willing himself to stay composed. “What do I do with Lily? She can’t-“ he stopped as she looked up at him, eyes wide.

At barely three, Lily Patricia DaSilva-Cortes was shaping up to be sharper than both of her fathers. She had Albert’s flaming red hair and Finch’s love for music, as well as the penchant for mischief that both men shared. And above all, he loved her with his whole heart. How could he make her leave now?

“It’s nothing, darling. I’m staying with you.” He sat down, gesturing for the two men to do so as well. Carefully, he did his best to cover Lily’s ears before nodding for them to start.

The older one cleared his throat, looking Finch straight in the eye.

"The Secretary of the Army has asked me to express his deep regret that your husband Albert died in Germany on October 19th. His truck crashed in an accident. The Secretary extends his deepest sympathy to you and your family in your tragic loss."

That was it. Those were the words that Finch had been dreading ever since he knew Albert was going to leave. Those were the words that haunted him every day and every night as he prayed he would never have to hear them. And those were the words being said to him in the house he had built with Albert, holding the daughter they had raised together. The man was saying something that Finch couldn’t quite make out, but this couldn’t be real, it couldn’t be real, it can’t be real, and-

Finch felt something. Two tiny hands reaching for his shaking ones. That brought him back to the moment.

“Daddy, what’s this man saying? What happened? What’s happening?” Lily was on the verge of tears, her childish mind trying to find reason in the unreasonable.

“Nothing’s happened, dear. Nothing’s happened.” Finch wanted to just close his eyes and wake up from this nightmare, but he couldn’t. Not when the nightmare was simply reality.

“Why are you crying then?” She was too smart for her own good, really. He didn’t know what to say. How could he tell her?

“Sir, is there someone I can call?” The man was talking to him again. At least this was a question he could answer. Finch nodded, reaching for his phone. His contacts. Albert’s name stood there at the top, but he ignored it. Anthony Higgins. Call. There must’ve been some mercy left in the universe, as he picked up quickly.

“Yeah, Finch?”

Oh god. Race was Albert’s closest friend.

“Hello?”

What could he say? What could he possibly say in this moment?

“Are you there?”

Finally, Finch found his voice.

“I need you. At the house. JoJo too. It’s an-“ His voice caught on the last word. “It’s an emergency.”

Race must have sensed the tone of his voice, because he could immediately hear action on the other side of the phone.

“Shit, yeah. Are you okay? Is Lily okay?”

Finch nodded for a bit, until he remembered Race couldn’t see him.

“Yeah. Yeah. But, um,” Breaths. Deep breaths. He could do this. “Please hurry.” Finch could here Race calling for JoJo; they must have been at their place. He heard the rustle of their shoes, the click of the door, the beep of the car.

“The GPS says 10 minutes. Are you fine? Do we need to call someone?” Why was breathing so hard? Why couldn’t he breathe? It was Lily’s touch that kept him grounded, at least momentarily.

“No, no, 10 minutes is fine. You don’t need to call anyone. See you then.” He hung up quickly. He didn’t know how much longer he could’ve held on. Finch looked up at the man desperately, unsure of what to say next. Thankfully, he spoke up.

“We can stay with you until they arrive.” Finch nodded gratefully, running one hand through his daughter’s hair. He held her close, praying to whatever god was left that Race and JoJo would show up soon.

When they knocked on the door, the other man stood up to get it. He led Race and JoJo to where Finch and Lily were sitting. Finch could see them putting the pieces together and the shock of realization that flashed across their faces. They both turned towards the captain, gripping each other’s hands tightly. Race spoke first.

“Is Albert-“ He shook his head, unable to say those horrible words. JoJo stepped forward, holding onto Race like he was a lifeline.

“What happened?” The man turned towards Finch, seemingly asking for permission. Finch nodded, unable to see how he could tell them himself.

“The Secretary of the Army has asked me to express his deep regret that Albert died in Germany on October 19th. His truck crashed in an accident. The Secretary extends his deepest sympathy to you and your family in your tragic loss.”

Race’s mouth dropped open in horror as JoJo reached back to steady him. Carefully, he sat Race down next to Finch and took Lily out of Finch’s arms.

“Thank you…”

“Captain.”

“Well, thank you captain. Do you need anything else?” JoJo’s voice was carefully measured as he reached out to shake the man’s hand. The man turned back towards Finch, taking out a clipboard and a pen.

“Once again, you are Patrick DaSilva-Cortes?” Finch nodded numbly; he knew that this man had business he needed to do.

“This is your place of residence and your mailing address?

Another nod. Another scribble on the clipboard.

“And you phone number is xxx-xxx-xxxx?”

Finch nodded again, now desperate for the man to leave. He had put the clipboard away and taken out a paper, which he handed to Finch.

“That paper has more information, as well as the contact information for your casualty area command. A casualty assistance officer will contact you sometime in the next 24 hours to arrange another visit. Please do not make arrangements for his remains until you have been fully briefed by them.”

Casualty. Remains. All words that now described his Albert. The man stood up from his chair, taking a deep breath before addressing Finch one final time.

“Mr. DaSilva-Cortes, I must be returning to Stuttgart. Again, on behalf of the Secretary of the Army, please accept the United States Army's deepest condolences.”

Then he walked out the door, the other one trailing behind. Everything was silent. Silence. Finch hated silence. Albert always knew what to say. But Albert was gone.

Albert was gone.

“I’m just gonna, y’know.” JoJo looked calm somehow, still holding Lily. He went off to put her down.

“Finch, god, I don’t-“ Race’s mouth hung agape as he tried to find the right words, but Finch couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Albert will be okay. It’s just ten months. He will be fine. You promised me, Race! You promised he would be fine! You promised-“ Finch gasped before running into the bathroom, barely making it as he collapsed in front of the toilet. Race was on his tail, slamming against the door frame as he ran towards Finch.

“Shit shit shit shit shit. Do I need to call-Do I need to see if I can get that guy back here? Do you need like an ambulance?” Race was crying now, but his worry for Finch overtook anything else he was feeling. “I need Albert. I need Albert. I need Albert. I need-“ Finch was cut off by another round of violent heaving, gasping for air all the while. He couldn’t take it anymore. His skin felt too tight on his body, restricting his movement and not letting him breathe. He needed to tear it off, tear it off, tear IT-

Race’s hands covered his own, refusing to let him harm himself. “I’m calling someone, okay? JoJo has Lily, they’ll be fine together. This time I promise. I’m sorry I can’t-I just can’t.”

Race stepped out of the bathroom, pulling out his phone. Finch stayed there, hunched over the toilet, just crying. Eventually, he heard sirens. Voices. Hands on his body, lifting him up, placing him on something soft. Wires and cuffs and beeps and white. So much white. White sheets, white walls, white gowns, white ceilings, white floors. And pink. Pink? A flower. A lily.

“Uncle JoJo said you would like it.”

His Lily. Standing there. Scared.

“Where’s papa?”

Oh. JoJo stepped into his vision, followed closely by Race. His voice was soft, as if they were all glass that could shatter.

“We told you, honey. He’s-“ Finch could here JoJo take a deep breath, with Race saying something to him quietly.

“He’s gone, honey.”

“But when is he coming back? He said he would come back. Why won’t he come back?”

She was crying now, far too young for this tragedy. JoJo picked her up, muttering an apology as he left. Race sat down next to Finch’s bed, taking one of his hands. They stayed there for a while until a nurse came in a said that Race had to go. All the white turned to black as Finch slipped into unconsciousness.

He dreamt of Albert, sitting on the docks in Brooklyn. He dreamt of Albert, dancing in the rain. He dreamt of Albert lying in their bed, holding their daughter. Don’t go, he tried to say. Don’t leave, it’s not worth it. But Albert couldn’t hear him. More scenes of him passed by. Albert swimming, eating ice cream, watching tv, reading a book, playing with Lily at the playground. The day he asked Albert out, the day Albert proposed, the day of their wedding, the day they brought Lily home from the hospital. Their whole life together, blurred together through time. When Finch woke up, he was crying.

The funeral was hard. Hell, everything was hard. Lily was trying her best to understand, and Race and JoJo were trying their best to help them. They helped Finch tell the rest of their friends. Jack, Davey, Les, Sarah, Katherine, Crutchie, Romeo, Elmer, Buttons, Mush, Specs, Tommy, Mike, Ike, and Spot were all at the funeral. Finch tried to say something, he really did. Thankfully, Race had his back and gave the speech instead. He was glad when the whole thing was over. He just wanted to go back home.

Race and JoJo, bless them, stood by Lily and Finch for the rest of their lives. Slowly, they all learned to heal. Support groups, therapy, time. Some days were harder than others. Albert’s birthday, and their wedding anniversary. Those were days when Finch couldn’t get out of bed, days when Lily cried simply because her dad did. But time passed, no matter how slowly it did.

On Lily’s 18th birthday, there was a video. Something Finch had never thought they would have use for, but something that he had convinced Albert to make just in case. The sight of Albert’s face was enough to bring tears to their eyes, and the sound of his voice almost made Finch turn the tape off. But he didn’t.

“Hey, Lilybug. Happy 18th birthday! I hope you never have to see this, and I’m sorry if you do. I bet you’ve grown quite a lot, now! I’m sorry that I couldn’t be there today. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there every day. Hopefully, you’ve been good for Father Finch there. I wish I could see who you’ve grown up to be. I hope you know I’m proud of you, regardless of whatever has happened. I love you!”

As Albert leaned in to turn off the camera, Finch could see the tears in his eyes. He was crying now, and Lily was too. He tried to apologize, but she wouldn’t let him. As he hugged her tightly, she just whispered “Thank you.”

And 35 years later, as Finch laid in his hospital bed with his daughter by his side, all he could think about was finally seeing Albert again.

“I’ll see you soon, huh?” Finch laughed a little. “I’ll see you soon.”

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tysm for reading! hope this wasn't too shit

[blinkinbrothershark]

Random Newsies Headcanon Yet Again! :3

(Modern Era:) Albert's father is Portugese (hence the Portugese surname, DaSilva) and his mother was Irish, but Albert and his two brothers were born in New York. Every summer since their mothers death, they would fly to Ireland to visit their grandmother and cousins for a few weeks.

When Albert was thirteen, he asked if Race could come too. His brothers were hesitant but eventually agreed. Albert's grandmother was thrilled to meet her grandson's best friend, and encouraged Race to come with them to visit every year. Soon enough, Race became like a grandson to her as well.

[mostlybroadway]

racetrack higgins’s first love was robin hood.

a child of ten couldn’t help but be enamored by the hooded vigilante, stealing from the rich to give to the less fortunate. race himself was one of the less fortunate: his mother had died while having him and his father wanted little to do with him. like robin hood, race decided to make a life for himself with his friends. he just needed friends.

and then came racetrack higgins’s second love: spot conlon

she and race did everything together. when race happened upon the brooklyn newsies on a regular trip to the sheepshead, he was instantly enamored. finally, newsboys—news girls—who were just like him. or how he used to be.

spot and race were partners in crime. they sold together, ate together, and lived together in the small brooklyn boarding house. as they reached eleven, twelve, thirteen, they started to do more. they saw others kissing and wanted to try for themselves. their hugs lingered a little longer, their hands brushing against each other suddenly meant a little more. race had found his maid marian. and spot thought she had found hers, too.

racetrack higgins’s third love was jack kelly.

race had seen jack around. he made his way through lower manhattan now and again, seeing how the boys sold compared to the brooklyn girls. they needed some pointers, surely, but they were good company. they always wanted to play games with race if he asked them to. race wanted to spend the most time with jack, though. the newly appointed leader, the cowboy. race was happy with spot, and kissing spot, and loving spot, but his love of jack kelly was something entirely new.

race caught himself looking at jack’s chest and wishing his own vest and shirt sat flat against his breasts. race looked at how jack carried himself—so tall, so manly—and race wanted it too. race needed it.

when race told spot he was leaving to join the lower manhattan boys, she was not happy. she swore at him, she threw a few good shoves at him, but he remained strong. he still loved her. he figured he probably would always love her. but she loved someone that no longer existed.

racetrack higgins’s fourth love, albert dasilva, took him entirely by surprise.

albert welcomed race in immediately, just as spot had all those years before. but something about albert was different. while spot was loud and domineering, albert let race take charge. albert listened. albert was soft, and caring, and had that red hair that could make anyone fall at his feet.

albert dasilva helped racetrack higgins accept who he was. he helped him bind correctly. he made sure the other boys respected race’s privacy while changing. and he loved race no matter who he was.

and that made all the difference.

[bigmack2go]

My list of random newsies headcannons and thoughts that are litterally all over the place

Might add onto it later

Actually scratch that: im definitely adding onto this over time.

Everyone screamed “for splint” when they all ran into the fight

Spot and jack are ex‘s(fight me)

Albert is the delancys cusin (mothers were siblings. Father and weasel)

Hannah is hungarian

Hannah is lefthandet

Davey has tiny-ass ears

Racetrack has green eyes

Alberts nickname is twitch

Newsies are good with littles

Racer has ADHD (obv)

Spot is Hungarian

Scottish/ irish crutchie

Theres a rumor spot conlon is almost seven feet tall (HA! You wish)

Crutchie has a tooth gap (period)

The newsboys lay together to buy a bed if a girl couldn’t afford one because she didn’t earn enough that day so she doesn’t have to sleep out in an ally where she could be raped etc.

Race and/or finch is colorblind

Mush and blink have an ongoing fight on who’s taller

Racetrack „i don’t do rules“ Higgins

Albert „rules are overrated“ DaSilva

Jack „rules are made to be broken“ Kelly

Spot „i make my own rules then“ Connlon

Katherine „ehh“ plumber

Boots “rules? Whats a rule?” Argus

Hotshot „rules are for loosers“ hotshot

Crutchie has a slingshot integrated in his crutch

Smalls real name is Laura

Albert has blue eyes

Race isn’t dumb he’s just an idiot jerk. (In fact he’s incredibly smart)

Taking over the bronx at the age of 13(almost) smalls was the youngest to become a burrow leader aside from spot (who was 11 when he took the ‚crown‘)

Spot refuses to wear clothes to sleep

Elmer and spots sister are cusins (and therefore logically them too lol)

Theorys about yorks name origin vary a lot. Tho most think that he got the name because he’s been to all of new york. He has live in all the burrows and gotten thrown out of almost all the lodges . In reality it was simply because he came from yorktown.

Even some newsies dont know that there are seperate lodges for boys and girls because that isn’t used. Neither the keepers nor the newsies care. There are so few newsies girls anyway so it wouldn’t pay to open an extra one for them. Plus the boys lodge is overfilled anyway and they can’t afford to not use the space they have. Newsies boys are usually very respectful and responsible though. Some say its because they’ve been through stuff themselves some think their simply normal human beings. In reality its a mix (sadly). Since most never had family etc and was rejected by society, that automatically meant that society couldn’t shape them. Society never got to make them think that it was okay in the first place.

Spot and Davey both either bite their nails and they are totally rotten or have the most beautiful and cared for hands/nails

Spot had full on tears in his eyes maybe even down his cheek when Jack scabbed. He didn’t know if he could trust Jack again after what happened what ended their relationship. When he thought he could finally trust him again he pulls this.

Spot spreads rumors abt himself sometimes. Racetrack (and others) help. But race not by saying stuff but by doing stuff.

When crutchy has to sign stuff with a real name, he doesn’t want to use his real name, charlie, he uses shawn because he reminds me of shawn the sheep so yeah

Brooklyn is red

Manhattan is blue

Queens is green

Midtown is yellow

The bronx is dark green

Flushing is dark teal

Richmond are brown

Harlem is Yellow (and mint because midtown are NOT having it) (yes Harlem is an own borough, okay. Fuck you!!!)

When blink and mush got together it was winter and they kissed in the snow outside the lodge and everyone was watching from inside and started cheering because about damn time these two finaly stop pining and anoying everyone with their obliviousness

(Second in comand things abt race that he keeps track if everyones there or if someone’s missing like in 92‘sies when he was the one to realize crutchy, or calming everyone in the broadway version when jack turns on them)

„Theres a headline even elmer could sell“ isn’t cause its a good headline but because he refuses to lie, but he cant sell without lying about the headline usually, but there he doesn’t have to lie about it

The first time Hannah went to meddas she was really reluctant. She knew she would be accepted there and not chased for whom she loved but for some reason she was really hesitant.

She only made some hints before that to Jack prolly and he told her „why don’t you come to Meddas Theater some time hm?“

with a wink and a look of understanding

[ao3feed-newsies]

Adaptation

by, Hexmari by Hexmari Five months ago Jack Kelly lost both of his parents in a car accident. Not wanting him to end up in a home, Jack gains custody of his fifteen-year-old brother Racetrack and moves him into his studio apartment in the heart of Manhattan. Where Jack learns to adapt to these unpredictable circumstances, Race doesn’t handle them with as much grace and gives Jack a hard time every chance he gets. Little does Jack expect that the breath of fresh air he needs would come from falling in love with Race’s English teacher David. Words: 2629, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Newsies - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/M, M/M Characters: Jack Kelly (Newsies), Racetrack Higgins, David Jacobs, Katherine Plumber Pulitzer, Crutchie (Newsies), Spot Conlon, Albert DaSilva (Newsies), Medda Larkson | Medda Larkin, Jack Kelly's Father (Newsies), Jack Kelly's Mother (Newsies), Racetrack Higgins' Mother, Racetrack Higgins' Father Relationships: David Jacobs/Jack Kelly, Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins, Jack Kelly/Katherine Plumber Pulitzer Additional Tags: Bisexual Jack Kelly (Newsies), Racetrack Higgins & Jack Kelly Are Siblings, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Past Jack Kelly/Katherine Plumber Pulitzer, Child Neglect, Past Character Death, David Jacobs/Jack Kelly-centric, Jack Kelly Needs a Hug (Newsies), Artist Jack Kelly (Newsies), Protective Jack Kelly (Newsies), Racetrack Higgins Needs a Hug, Gay Racetrack Higgins, Racetrack Higgins Has ADHD, Racetrack Higgins Being a Little Shit, Jack Kelly-centric (Newsies), Grief/Mourning, Mental Health Issues, Therapy, Anxious David Jacobs, Jewish David Jacobs, Gay David Jacobs read : https://ift.tt/FdJgAta - January 03, 2024 at 04:58PM

[races-stupid-cigar]

Albert whos overshadowed by his brothers

Ones stronger than a horse and works down at the docks he saved a kids life once and is incredibly good at what he does and knows it

The other works in construction helping build up the growing city it's a dangerous job but he's talented beyond his years and always can think up something to get the job done

His father works at a factory and has for some time he's not at the top but is well respecting in his efficiency even in his old age

Then there's Albert he's not his father or his brothers he's just the youngest DaSilva who tries to hide behind his insecurity with being defensive and downright an asshole sometimes because he doesn't feel like enough he's the weakest DaSilva and he knows he's not very smart and he can't even sell papers as good as his friends he's just some shitty kid who can't let go of his mom who's been gone for years now

[somedayonbroadway]

oooh, have you done a full house/fuller house au?

I grew up on Full House. I loved this show growing up, but I never watched Fuller House because it broke my heart that someone I grew up looking up to ended up being a homophobe and I just couldn’t support her work. But I love the original show, I think it’s so wholesome and fun.

So without further ado:

Full House AU

The Three Amigos

Specs as Danny Tanner

Specs is a young dad of three. His wife unfortunately passed away not so long ago and he was left with three sons who he just didn’t know how to take care of on his own. He has PTSD and severe depression and has to call in recruitments to help him raise his children because he doesn’t know how to move forward on his own.

Jack Kelly as Jesse Kastopolis

Jack is Specs’s brother-in-law. His sister and him had never really been close, but he loved his nephews. It’s not even Specs who calls for his help. It’s Race. Jack is very young, only nineteen when his sister dies, a high school drop out, someone who is known for running away from his problems and making a mess and now a second father to three boys who need him.

Katherine as Joey Gladstone

Katherine is Specs’s best friend who immediately runs to his side when he is having a hard time. She’s an up and coming author and comedian and does her best to help raise the young kids. She also happens to fall for Jack and they end up with an oopsie pregnancy which results in two little boys and a whole lot of drama.

The Kiddos

Racetrack Higgins as DJ Tanner

He’s the oldest son. He’s a trouble maker. Specs is always scared he’ll end up just like Jack and when Jack and Race get really close it just worries him even more. Race is rebellious and misses his mom so much more than he can explain but he loves his family more than anything and ultimately does anything he can to make them happy.

Crutchie Morris as Stephanie Tanner

Crutchie is the middle brother. He’s always sort of torn between everyone because he’s always the last one to know everything. He’s very close to Race and knows a lot of what Race is going to do before anyone else. He is very similar to his father.

Romeo as Michelle Tanner

Romeo is the baby, just a toddler when he loses his mom so he never really gets to know her. He grows up with a bigger family than his big brothers had. He is truly the baby of the family and is spoiled rotten.

Others

Albert DaSilva as Kimmy Gibbler

David Jacobs as Rebecca Donaldson

Spot Conlon as Steve Hale

Mike and Ike as Alex and Nicky

For more mood boards and AUs, click here!

[riding-palominos-every-day]

Race or Albert Backstory?

I'll do you both!

Race

Antonio Higgins' parents hadn't been serious, they were a very young couple messing around. When his mama got pregnant his pa swore he'd stick by her, and he did to start with. Until Antonio turned two, then his father disappeared. His mother did her best to raise him alone, despite the stigma she faced and her financial struggles. She got help from (and helped out in turn) another young mother, a Ms. Conlon, and their sons became best friends.

When Ms. Conlon died and Sean went to an orphanage, Miss Higgins found herself struggling again. So she did what she thought was best, taking five year old Antonio over the Brooklyn Bridge and to the nearest lodging house. Legally he had his father's surname, but she gave him hers; it was all she had left to give him.

She was so proud of him when she saw her boy in the paper with his friends ten years later.

Albert

Albert DaSilva was also born out of wedlock, to a Portuguese mother and Irish father, the youngest of three sons (full name Albert DaSilva O'Conner, following Portuguese naming traditions). Although his parents were unmarried they lived together very happily.

Albert's mother died when he was five, and he decided to go only by her surname in memory of her. His older brothers were already having to find work, but Albert was lucky enough to be sent to school.

However, when things were difficult financially, Albert was pulled out of school to work instead. He alternated between work and school for several years, resulting in a very staggered education and several repeated grades. He'd worked a lot of different jobs but eventually settled on being a newsie when he was twelve, moving into the lodging house in hopes of taking some of the financial strain off his father and brothers (although he remained close with them, and occasionally stayed the night).

[sluttylittlenewsboy]

Best Friends

Part Three: Race and Albert

Summery: Race and Albert meet for the first time

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albert DaSilva was only twelve years old when his parents kicked him out. The day after he left home, it rained. It didn't rain lightly either. It was pouring. Albert was cold, hungry, and scared.

He decided to walk to a place that he knew had shelter. The racetrack where his father used to make bets. He was coughing and sneezing with an awful cold.

A small Italian boy with a cigar in his mouth was at the front of the track arguing with a grown man, seemingly about money. Albert immediately took a liking to the boy. He found his ability to argue with someone twice his size enticing. Albert took a seat under and awning to watch the argument play out.

~~~

After he was done arguing, the small boy spotted Albert.

"Hey Red, whadda ya doin' in the rain?" He asked. Albert explained what happened, and the boy gave him a sympathetic smile.

"Albert, right?" The boy asked. Albert nodded.

"Well Albert, I's Racetrack Higgins, but you can call me Race" Albert shook his hand.

"Why don't you come back to the lodging house with me? We'll get you all fixed up and fed, " Race said.

They shared a bunk that night and stayed up talking until the sun rose. After that, they were inseparable.

[skyblue-ringpops]

albert albert albert albert albert ahhhhhh

My Modern Albert DaSilva HCs!

He lives with his father and two older brothers. His mom is dead.

His brothers used to pick on him a lot growing up, since they're close in age and he's significantly younger than both of them.

He loves playing pranks.

He takes credit for his antics with Smalls and Jojo, but they're usually using him as a scapegoat in case they get caught.

He's a bit of an outcast in the group, but doesn't seem to realize it.

Most of his friends make fun of him, but since he isn't very smart, he doesn't usually catch on.

He believes in conspiracy theories, his favorite being Area 51 and aliens in general.

He's always wearing fun socks.

He has ADHD.

Pinterest: https://pin.it/2x41Gc5

[the-calvarys-coming-out]

I strongly believe that Albert is effeminate but he tries to mask it and that's why he dresses so masculine.