#finch cortez fanfiction

[ethereal-bumble-bee]

Chapter 4 of When the World Falls Into Anarchy is now out!

when the world falls into anarchy (2755 words) by etherealbumblebee Chapters: 4/? Fandom: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken, Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies (1992), Newsies: The Broadway Musical! (2017) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins, Albert DaSilva/Finch (Newsies), Sarah Jacobs/Katherine Plumber Pulitzer Characters: Spot Conlon, Racetrack Higgins, Finch (Newsies), Albert DaSilva (Newsies), Jack Kelly (Newsies), Crutchie (Newsies), Katherine Plumber Pulitzer, David Jacobs, Les Jacobs Additional Tags: Zombie Apocalypse, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Post-Apocalypse, Danger, Survival Summary: One month. It’d been one month since the first signs of the plague showed up, since the first person became mad with fever and insane with bloodlust, since the disease had ravaged the world until there was nothing left. Spot had been lucky somehow, able to stay far from the infected, but as far as he could tell, he’d been the only one. … A zombie apocalypse AU.

[collecting-stories]

Banana Pancakes - Finch Cortes

A/N: I wrote this a long time ago but I��ve adapted it to fit Finch because why not recycle???? With Iain Young in mind cause he’s such a 😍 

A Newsies AU

///

"Wake up," Finch’s voice was more raspy than normal, due to the somewhat early hour of the morning, but that didn't stop him. He'd convinced you to come over the night before for movies and a game of who-can-eat-the-most-pizza. 

You'd fallen asleep on the couch, like you did every single time you overdosed on pizza and coke. And, like every single other time, Finch had moved you to the spare bedroom. After the first time you slept over and woke up with a crick in your neck you swore you were never going to fall asleep on the couch again. Except old habits die hard and you always fell asleep halfway through the last movie, with a slice of pizza on a plate on your lap.

Finch knew the routine like clockwork.

"Come on…wake up," Finch leaned down, taking your lax arms and wrapping them around his shoulders while he wrapped his arms around your torso, hugging you. He gave the slightest squeeze and felt your arms start to move, pulling away a little.

"Get off," you mumbled, trying to wriggle out of his grip.

Finch didn't reply. He just squeezed you tighter, burying his head in your neck and climbing up on the bed to straddle you. This was routine too. It was how he always woke you up when you stayed over.

The first time he'd done it butterflies had exploded in her stomach. Actually, you still did. Only the first time you were naive enough to assume that when he hugged you like this it meant more than it did. Finch, you reasoned after the fifth time, was just a physical person. That was the whole of it.

"Get off me Finch!" You pulled your arms in, pressing your hands against his chest and pushing. He had (unfortunately) decided to get fully dressed before he woke you up.

"Never!" He laughed, making his legs go lack so he could fall on top of you, completely squishing you between his body and the bed. You laughed as Finch rolled over the wrong way, causing them both to fall to the floor, dragging the blankets with them.

"Finch!" You finally got away from him, scrambling to you feet and making it to the door, grabbing the wall like it was base.  

"Breakfast is ready," Finch commented, still lying on the pile of blankets.

You ran to the kitchen. You could hear him getting up from the floor and chasing after you. You ran down the hall and down the stairs into the living room, trying to make it to the kitchen before him. Finch went the other way, climbing on the couch and using it as a platform, jumping on you and tackling you to the ground.

"No!" You whined, trying to get out from under him, "I'm getting breakfast before you!"

Breakfast was a routine of yours too. Banana Pancakes. Every time you slept over Finch made banana pancakes with cinnamon and nutmeg. Sometimes he added chocolate chips but that was only on special occasions when he wanted something.

"No!" Finch laughed, wrestling with you.

"Finch!" You repeated, kneeing him lightly in the stomach.

Finch, who enjoyed being overdramatic, rolled onto off of you, holding his stomach and moaning like he'd been shot. You rolled your eyes and got up, taking off for the kitchen again. You made it in, taking a seat at the table.

Usually Finch just left a plate of pancakes next to the stove and left the turkey bacon in the pan. Today was out of the ordinary. The table was set for two, the coffee pot sitting on the electric heater in the middle, waiting to be poured. Next to it was a plate of bacon and a plate of Banana Pancakes. Finch had even made the syrup that you loved.

You approached the table cautiously, taking your fork and stabbing the first pancake on the stack. After inspecting the bottom you noticed the chocolate chips littering the cake. Finch came in behind you, taking a seat at the table as if this part of the day was as ordinary as all the other parts.

Except it wasn't. You knew it wasn't.

"What did you do?" you put your fork down and crossed your arms under your chest, eyeing Finch suspiciously.

"Wow Finch, this is all so nice, you're such a good best friend, what would I do without you…" Finch mumbled.

"Thank you Patrick," you rolled your eyes, "now what did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" Finch retorted.

"Really? The last time you went to this much trouble you accidentally let my cat out when you were supposed to be sitting him for me," You said.

"He wanted to get out, besides he was mean to me," Finch pouted.

"Well you either did something or…" you paused as realization dawned on you, "what do you want?"

"Nothing but your love," Finch grinned.

You let out an amused laugh but dropped the subject, sitting down to eat. Finch's banana pancakes were your absolute favorite.

You and Finch had been friends for a fairly long time. You’d always thought he was cute but never thought of him as anything but a good friend. Until a little while ago. You didn't really know when it was, you just knew that he went from looking like an adorable kid to looking like a sex god in the blink of an eye. Not that you were complaining.

You tried to ignore that as you ate though. Finch was somewhat concentrated on his food, looking up at you every once in a while to make a face. You suspected that the rest of the day would go as planned, though with the change of events at breakfast you couldn't be sure.

Anyone else would say that you were ridiculous for reading that much into a simple morning meal. But you knew how you and Finch worked. Movie night and the morning after was always the exact same thing. It was like going to school and always having an assigned seat. To suddenly go in one day and have the teacher let them sit anywhere was somewhat life altering. If that didn't sound too overdramatic.

"I'm going to get a shower," you announced, pushing your plate a little away from your body.

That was the next step in your day after movie night. After breakfast (which had been unusually quiet this time) was showering. You always showered first because you always finished eating first. Finch would make some perverted joke about showering with you, which he would then reiterate when he went to take his own shower.

Finch hopped right up after you from the table, "Wait!"

"What?"

You waited for Finch to say something but instead he just stood there, rubbing the back of his neck. He had been preparing for this moment since he called her last night and asked her to head over for movie night. He got all the best romantic movies as some sort of foreshadowing/mood-setting for the morning after. Now it was the morning after and he'd done everything according to his plan until now. He couldn't think of a single word to say to you.  

All the great speeches he'd rehearsed yesterday had been washed out of his brain. Now he was just standing there staring at you, waiting for all the words to come back, and probably freaking you out.

"Uh…I…I uh, well," Finch took a deep breath, trying to form an actual word.

"So you do want something?" You laughed, "See I told you! I knew it! I knew you wanted something!"

You moved around the table toward him and Finch moved back. The situation was slowly diffusing as you joked with him. You poked him in the chest with each accusatory sentence. Finch laughed and grabbed your wrist, pulling you toward him and spinning you around so your back was flat against his chest.

"Gotcha," he whispered in your ear.

"That's what you think," you smiled (Finch loved your smile) and reached with your free hand, tickling his sides.

Finch lurched forward a bit and then backed away from you, letting go of your hand as you tickled him. Once you were free you ran out of the kitchen and down the hall. You ran back into the bedroom, running around the side of it and crawling underneath. You could hear Finch's footsteps in the hall. He walked slowly like he didn't know where you were and you tried not to laugh when he entered the bedroom.

He walked along the foot of the bed, crouching down to see your legs. He grabbed your ankles and pulled you out from under the bed as you laughed hysterically. The minute you were uncovered he fell, straddling you as he landed with his knees on either side of you.

"Gotcha again," he grabbed your wrists when you reached forward, pinning you down so you couldn't tickle him again.

You smiled at him. Finch was leaning closer to you now, his face inches from yours as he held yourr arms above you. There was that famous grin on his face, his dimples just hinting at existence. You could see all the green of his eyes and all the little blemishes on his face. You wanted to speak, wanted to have some sort of a remarkably clever comeback. But Finch was so close that you literally felt dizzy.

You didn't have to worry though because he didn't let you speak. As close as he was, you were to him. Finch felt completely overwhelmed. He was entirely too aware of the cliched nature of his move but he didn't care. He had to get his point across and another moment like this wouldn't come.

So he leaned down and kissed you. He didn't really know how long he was supposed to kiss you or if he was supposed to move his lips around. When the perfect time to spring back and pretend that it was an honest mistake so you wouldn't slap him was. He just knew that he wanted to kiss you and now his slightly chapped lips were covering your moist ones (you probably felt gross and there was the tiny sting of a cut he'd gotten on his lip that made him want to whimper in pain but he held it in; he was kissing you after all).

But things like that have to end because people have to breathe. Sometimes. Maybe. He wasn't sure that was a scientifically good enough reason. Maybe he could conduct a study, if you didn't want to get up and run out of the house and never have movie night again. But you was still there, under him, staring up with eyes the size of doll-house saucers.

He kept thinking movie night would be more fun. There would be no more sleeping in the guest room. Or showering separately (maybe he was rushing things). You could skip the boring monologue parts of movies and just make out. That would be fun. You could have banana pancakes in bed…except maybe without the syrup because he really hated washing his sheets (they were so big and bulky and)…you were talking. What were you saying?

"What?" Finch asked, sounding somewhere between confused and high.

You sucked in another breath. He wanted you to repeat yourself? He'd totally just blanked out? You finally told him you loved him as he finished kissing you and he chose that moment to go off in his head. You wanted to roll your eyes, that was so like Finch. Always missing the important parts.

"So…" you tried to start again but the words wouldn't come out. So you settled for being dumb, "was that what you wanted?"

"Yeah," he blushed, letting go of your wrists to sit up and rub the back of his neck. He climbed off you, helping you up to your feet because he figured pinning you to the ground wasn't a great way to start a relationship.

"Definitely better than banana pancakes," you bit your lip. You wouldn't tell him. Not today. Maybe tomorrow or the next day or next week or some month later on down the line. You'd pluck up the courage again and tell him that you loved him but right now it wasn't so important.

"Even with chocolate chips?" And there it was, the smug grin crept back into place and the shyness from a moment ago disappeared. He felt like on of those American football players when they make a touchdown. He wanted to victory dance all over his flat and possibly shout to the whole world that you liked him.

"Well, I mean…" you grinned just as smugly, "they are chocolate chips."

And just like that they were off again. You tearing through the flat as Finch chased you, threatening things that made you want to get caught (like kissing you to death). You were sort of amazed that even though everything had completely changed, you were no longer 'just friends', everything still felt sort of the same.

Except this time, as Finch caught you from behind and pulled you close, he planted a kiss at the corner of your mouth and you swore you heard the faintest of 'I love you's' before you squirmed free.

Maybe you'd tell him tonight.

-

So yeah, obviously AU

Very literally inspired by this pic from Iain’s insta. 

[cubexr]

My first ever newsies fic :D I got this idea ages ago. It was actually going to be a longer fic that I never ended up writing, but I loved this scene so much that I just had to write it, and maybe in the future if people like it, I might continue, who knows... enjoy <3

LOOKING FOR FINCH

Kind of modern era redfinch but more like Race and Albert being chaotic besties, Race trying to play the match maker and fangirling over birds and Albert acting like he doesn't believe in love at first sight

(word count 1196)

“Did you get his phone number?” Race asked Albert, who had just made his way back to their table.

“No”, Albert answered shortly. He would never admit it to Race, but he felt disappointed. It had taken him a while to even build up the courage to talk with that cute boy, but now it all felt like it was worth nothing. He hadn’t asked his phone number or his social media, so they would probably never meet again. Great.

“But you liked him, right?” Race asked.

“Yeah, I guess”, Albert said. Yes, he had liked him. They had hit it off right away until the guy had noticed the time, said ‘it was nice to meet you’, and left very quickly. Why, that he didn't tell.

“Then why don't you have his number?” Race asked, interrupting Albert's thoughts.

“Oh, because I found out that he is a time traveler from the 1800s and doesn’t have a phone,” Albert deadpanned. “You idiot, because I didn’t ask for his number of course.

Race raised his eyebrows.

“Okay Einstein, what are you going to do now?”

“What do you mean what I am going to do now? Finish this cupcake and leave is my best guess.”

“About the guy! What are you going to do with him? Are you just going to forget that this dreamy boy ever crossed paths with you and move on? Just like that?”

“Well,” Albert said and took a bite of his cupcake. “That is pretty much the plan, yeah.”

“You know that I am not going to let you do that,” Race said and grinned. “We will find him or we will die trying.”

Albert rolled his eyes. He knew there was nothing that could stop his best friend now.

“So,” Race started. “Did you get any information out of him?”

“He thinks that chocolate cake here is absolutely delicious but coffee could be better. He also told me that he doesn’t come here often so no, before you even suggest that I spend all my free time here hoping that he would come back, not going to happen. This isn’t some cheesy romcom and we should just let it go,” Albert noticed that Race was going to interrupt so he continued before the other one could say anything. “It is not worth it. Seriously. It was just some guy. Yeah, we had a fun chat but it lasted like five minutes. Could we just drop it?”

They stared at each other for a few seconds, and for a moment there Albert actually thought that Race was considering his words.

“Sorry to break it to you but the information you just gave me was absolutely useless,” Race said, ignoring completely everything else Albert had tried to say. “Give me something I can use. I got to agree tho, chocolate cake is heavenly”

“Race…”

Race sighed, and looked at Albert. There was something almost sad in his eyes, and this sudden change of emotion made Albert forget what he was even going to say.

“Hey, Albert, listen to me for a moment here,” Albert was so caught off guard by the sudden seriousness of Race’s voice, that he didn��t even try to stop him. “I know you liked him. Sorry buddy, but you are not that hard to read. And it was more like 20 minutes you two were talking, not five. See, you didn’t even notice how fast time went by. And I saw your face when he left and I think the last time you looked that disappointed was the time I couldn’t fit three tennis balls into my mouth. I am aware that this might be totally useless but can’t we even try? So what we never find him, at least you didn’t just give up like that.”

Albert stared at Race, not quite knowing how to respond to that. Race was hardly ever this serious and reasonable. Had it really been 20 minutes? Could Race actually be right for the first time in his life?

“Okay.”

“What? Are you for real?” Boom, happy Race was back. Albert rolled his eyes again.

“Yes yes don’t make a big deal out of it. What do you want to know?”

“His name.”

“His name?”

“You heard me.”

Albert sighed. “Finch.”

Moment of silence.

“Finch?” Race said, amused.

“You heard me.”

“Yes I did but did you hear him? Finch? Isn’t that like a bird?” Race said, sounding now way too amused to Albert’s liking. Albert nodded.

“There is no way his name is actually Finch.”

“Says who, Race? Like that is a normal name.”

“Sweetheart, that is not my real name.” Race said.

“Yeah Sherlock, maybe Finch isn’t his real name either. People go by nicknames all the time. Like Buttons for example. Or Specs.”

“Yeah but they are our friends. That’s why we call them that.”

“Oh yeah? Tell me Specs’ real name then.”

“What?”

“Our friend Specs. I am pretty sure that is not his actual name. Can you tell me what it is?” Albert asked, and now it was his turn to be amused.

Race went quiet, clearly trying to think for an answer to the question. After a moment, he let out a frustrated sound.

“No, that is not the point. The point is, that ‘Finch’ will get us nowhere,” Race said.

“But that is all that I got, so,” Albert smirked. “So, maybe we should just give up.”

“No!” Race almost shouted. He was not going to let Albert win. “Yes, Finch is good we will work with that.”

Race pulled his phone from his pocket and started searching.

Albert was almost sure there was nothing to be found. It was ridiculous, there was no way Finch was the guy’s actual name. Maybe surname? No, that seemed unlikely too. Maybe he had just lied to-

“Look, Al! Look what I found” Race screamed suddenly.

Small hope woke up in Albert.

“What? What did you find?”

“There is a literal finch fan page, look! I mean for the birds, actual finches. It has like 400 hundred pics of different kinds of finches, this is wild! Do you think same person took all of the pictures or-”

“Oh my god Race, I actually thought you found something.” Albert could barely hide his growing frustration. The hope that had just been there was gone. “Come on, try to concentrate, this was your idea not mine- Oh my god did you just follow the god damn finch fan page?”

“Maybe I did,” Race said happily. “These pictures are actually super cool, I never knew there were so many different kinds of finches, I thought it was just one bird”

“Race please, this is getting us nowhere.”

“Oh my god, maybe it’s him! Maybe he is a big finch nerd and that is how he got his nickname!”

Albert laughed. “If it’s his page then I don’t think our interests match enough for me to reach out. And he didn’t exactly seem like a guy who’d be that into some birds.”

“What do you know, you talked for like five minutes.”

“Hey, you said it was twenty!” Albert said and kicked Race under the table.

“Ouch! Okay, okay, it’s probably not him. We should keep looking,” Race said.

“You still think we will find him?” Albert asked. After all, there still was a small amount of hope left in him. Just a little bit.

“Of course!” Race said cheerfully. “We will find him. And in your wedding this will be an excellent story in my best man speech.”

thank u so much for reading <3333

[retvenkos]

of delis and music | f.c.

Newsies - Patrick “Finch” Cortez x Reader, fluff requested by @catsbooksandmusic​

tw: none

word count: 1.1k

prompt: “Dance with me?”

Summary: Finch has a crush, and when the newsies find out, they almost meddle enough to drive them apart. But at the end of the day, the two can’t stay away for long.

If there was one thing that all newsies knew, it was that Jacobi’s was like home - at least, as close as a newsie got to finding someplace that fit the description.

At Jacobi’s, there was always a place to rest. Sure, a seat in the corner with a glass of water was by no means lavish, but it was consistent, and nowhere else offered the same to a bunch of rowdy kids without so much a dime their name. No matter what the time of day, a newsie could slip in the door and be welcome by the man who ran the deli, given a cool glass of water and a lame joke that never failed to siphon laughter. There was little else that compared to the comfort that the shop contained; rarely did a newsie go anywhere else and feel the same sense of belonging. There wasn't a Manhattan newsie that disliked Jacobi's deli, and it was a title that Jacobi, the man, wore with a humored sense of pride.

There was a lot to like about Jacobi's, but what Finch liked best was different from everyone else.

Jacobi had more than just a deli - he had a family, and among its members was (Y/n). With their corny jokes, bright smiles, and quick hands (fast enough to slip a newsie a seltzer water, free of charge, without their father knowing), (Y/n) snuck their way into Finch's heart, easy as breathing. From the moment that he felt himself falling in love, Finch had become a frequent patron of the deli on the corner, stopping by more often than before and lingering at the end of the night, unwilling to leave. He had come to know (Y/n) well, and yet he still selfishly wished for more.

When Jojo had found out about his crush, Finch was sure it would be the death of him. For weeks the entire lodging house had been on his back, teasing him about his feelings. Finch had avoided Jacobi's deli for a whole month, knowing that the moment he stepped across the threshold, there would be a throng of newsies waiting for him, taking off their hats and slapping him jokingly as he just tried to enjoy a simple glass of water.

Finch knew his crush was just that - a silly little feeling in his chest that was trivial and annoying - like a hot wind on a summer day. He had tried to find another place to patron - somewhere else to pick up a drink of water and spend his time - but nowhere he went felt right.

It took Finch an entire month of drifting to go back to the familiar deli on the corner, and by then, the joke was up. The newsies didn't bother him when he walked him, taking up his seat by the corner, and when the owner of the establishment came by, he was given a glass of water without incident. 

He hadn't been there long before he spotted (Y/n) across the room, talking with Romeo, and when they smiled with the light of a thousand suns, Finch felt his heart tug again, something that made his shoulders slump. As though they could feel Finch's eyes on them (Y/n) turned around and met his gaze. Their eyes widened in shock, and Finch offered them a wobbly smile, something that made them chuckle more to themself than anyone else. In a haze, (Y/n) walked over to him and sat down, in their hands a nicked seltzer water.

"I haven't seen you in a while," they said, and in their voice was all the fondness that Finch had missed, "Which of my jokes sent you running? I'm trying to keep a running tally - see if they'll work on Race."

Finch laughed with a happiness that made his cheeks warm and left him smiling long after. "I doubt they'll work, but I'm sure you'll work something out."

(Y/n) gave a gentle smile. "So, did you have any adventures in your month away?"

Adventures, Finch smiled at the word. There was something romantic in the idea, as though the world were made of wonderful stories and daring escapes - something fit for those dime novels that Crutchie loved to read. He thought of the pranks that Albert had gotten up to and the jokes that Davey had told, but none of them seemed quite what he was looking for. Nothing seemed to have that spark of adventure that (Y/n) sought, except for the moment he was in. 

"I don't think I had any adventures without you."

"Then tell me something good."

And Finch thought for a moment, but it wasn't long before he was off, telling a story about what happened at the lodging house - the antics that Kenny and Elmer got up to when Jack's back was turned, the epic fight between Mush and Smalls when the former lost his hat and shirt, and the different headlines that he made up when selling with Specs (it started because Specs' glasses were dirty and he misread the paper). As they spoke, enraptured in a time already past, the night wore on and customers steadily left until there was no one but the two of them, enjoying each other's company far too much to say goodnight. 

Eventually, Jacobi came out and told them it was time to close up. Finch grabbed his hat and was walking toward the door when music started, gentle and smooth. He turned around and (Y/n) was sweeping to the beat, their father wiping down the tables and chairs.

"Where's the music coming from?"

"Oh." (Y/n) leaned against their broom and Jacobi disappeared into the kitchen area. "We bought a phonograph - my dad likes to listen while we clean. You can stay if you'd like to listen. We'll pretend like you're cleaning or something."

(Y/n) went back to sweeping, the sound of the broom brushing the floor covered by the sound of music - steady and comfortable - and Finch watched admiring them from afar. The deli was full of warm light and soft sound, full and wonderful, and Finch had that feeling again, like he was home.

(Y/n) caught his eye, their gaze filled with happiness and mirth - like at any moment, they could break out in infectious laughter. They walked over to Finch, set their broom aside, and held out a hand.

"Dance with me?"

Finch scoffed, shocked and surprised but pleasantly so. It was usually like that, with (Y/n), blissfully unprompted and wonderfully spontaneous.

"One dance won't kill you, will it?"

And Finch said no, as he put his hand in theirs, but he had the distinct feeling that (Y/n) was going to be the death of him. 

-- taglist: @lotsoffandomrecs, @neelia-thedaughtherof-athena // message me if you want to be added!

[writinganothertime]

The Secret of Vanishing Newsboys

CHAPTER 1

pairing: undetermined

warnings: none :)

story: worry, angst, a bit of fluff

time period: canon au (!!!)

word count: 539

a/n: hey!! welcome back, here’s a new fic! first time writing canon era so be nice :) the pairing is undetermined, it’s about a lot of different newsies though i suppose the focus is on race and albert. so this will be under the ‘miscellaneous’ section on my masterlist. i did mean to write platonic!ralbert but it’s up for interpretation, and i hint at romantic!sprace at one point but only slightly. i won’t include a pairing, time period, or story section in the rest of the chapters. but will always give warnings and word count :) and i will post chapters whenever they are ready, hopefully semi-regularly, maybe one a week? the chapters are fairly short, i wanted to stretch the story out and it switched topics too often for everything to be in larger chapters. ok i think that’s all! happy reading!

——————

Racetrack paced back and forth chewing on his cigar, he was never able to stay still but this was different.

“Racer you’re gonna wear the floor out and fall clean through.”

Race didn’t respond, his thoughts occupied by a certain redhead.

“Hey,” Jack said sharply, but not unkindly, grabbing his shoulder, forcing him to a stop.

“This worryin’ ain’t gonna do anyone no good.”

Race smacked Jack’s hand off of him and resumed his pacing.

“Can’t help worrying, gotta do something.”

Jack shook his head, “and pacing is helping somehow?”

Race gave him a dirty look, “it helps me, just not the situation.”

Jack sighed, they were all upset, but Race was starting to get on his nerves. Tension was high. He grabbed Race by both of his shoulders now and forced him to a sitting position on a bunk.

“J- just stop,” Jack motioned as he did so, frustration radiating off of him.

“Sorry,” Race mumbled, but he looked angry.

The lodging house was uncharacteristically quiet.

Here’s the situation: Albert had disappeared after selling last evening, he never came back to the lodging house. It was unlike him to not come back for the night, and even more unlikely that he didn’t show up for selling in the morning. Everyone was worried, Race was suffering the most being Albert’s closest friend and all. But things were tense between all the kids. The dark mood made everyone irritable.

“Should we tell someone?” Romeo piped up.

“Who we gonna tell?” Jack asked harshly, scowling.

Romeo frowned and rolled his eyes.

“Can we put out some feelers? Send notice to other boroughs to look out for him?” Finch asked. He nodded at Romeo. Romeo started grinning, glad someone was backing him up.

Jack looked upset, as if Finch’s idea was a disturbance to him. They all knew he was just in a bad mood, but in turn, was making the rest of the kids feel angry too.

“Yeah, sure,” he agreed, “send word, be careful, don’t get in any trouble.”

“You not gonna tell us who should go where?” Someone asked.

“I’m not thinkin’ too clearly,” Jack tapped his temple with a sad, close-lipped smile. “Get outta here ya punks, let’s find our Albert.”

Kids started scrambling to leave the lodging house. It was already after supper, having kids leave this late probably wasn’t the best idea but nobody stopped them. Jojo stopped to talk to Race.

“Ya don’t wanna come?” They demanded, respectfully.

“I don’t wanna find him myself,” Race muttered. “What if he’s hurt or worse, I don’t wanta find him in the streets or alleys. Y’know?” Jojo nodded and hurried off.

Jack wasn’t leaving either. And a lot of little kids were pushed back from the door to make sure they wouldn’t come. Crutchie was up on a bunk his head in his hands. He knew him leaving wouldn’t do anyone any good, he wouldn’t get somewhere in time, and the streets weren’t the safest at night. Not many of the older kids stayed though. It was a big deal when somebody went missing. Especially because Albert was a person who was always present. Some kids disappeared sure, but their attendance was usually spotty anyways. Albert was different.

[oof-musicals]

Together, me and you//Chapter one

This is the first chapter of a project I haven't been able to stop thinking about. I'm so excited about it and I just,, I'm really proud of this guys. I’m not the too educated on travelling out of the occasional trips I’ve been on, so thank you so much to Chandler for talking it out with me, you are a lifesaver. Anyway, here it is guys, I hope you enjoy it:) 

Tag list: @tarantulas4davey, @racecrack-higgins

(let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list!)

“Racetrack Higgins has always been apart of the busy city of Manhattan, he loved the busy streets and lively aspects that accompanied the state. He had never thought about leaving until now.

Albert DaSilva moved to Manhattan from then the never-sleeping New York. In the 6 years he'd lived here, he had started to build his life in the city he now called home. But from time to time, he can't help but want to experience the quietness of a small town again.

With impulsiveness and desire, the two set out on a trip across the country. 50 states. Two boys set out for an adventure. One trip.

They got this.”

--

Road trip au

Content Warnings: Implied child abuse (Not explicit and it’s like 0.2 seconds), Self-esteem issues. 

Words: 3142

Read on Ao3

Anthony "Racetrack" Higgins was a city boy. Living in Manhattan and visiting nearby boroughs often since the day he was born made navigating the subway - though he opts to walk instead - fairly easy. He loved the city. The lively energy of the city and the never-ending busy streets made him feel at home. He'd never thought about leaving before, could you really blame him? He’s been here for twenty-five years. He has a great life. He loved it here. Why would he leave?

       Albert DaSilva, unlike Race, grew up in a city in Illinois. He moved to New York shortly after his two years of community college and never looked back. That’s what he needed. An escape from his family. Well, his father. He hadn’t seen his brothers since his sophomore year of high school. And his father was just… not the best. So moving away was probably one of the best things he could’ve done. He had a great job and he made a family here. He had good friends and a boyfriend he loved very much. Still, as much as he loved New York, he missed the quietness of the Midwest - how could he not? His hometown had friendly faces that were much more common than in the active streets of Manhattan and the way some nights were just simple. When he was growing up, he loved falling asleep to the cicadas outside his window. Falling asleep to cars honking just wasn’t the same. Sometimes, the desire to go back to that was too much to handle. 

      Right now, the desire was too much. 

      He doesn’t know what brought it on, but Albert recognized the feeling of homesickness the moment he woke up. He felt selfish to feel like this, especially when he had a good life with his boyfriend of five years. Race was his rock, the love of his life. To say he missed Illinois felt like he was saying he never wanted to meet Race. And while Race would probably understand that’s not at all how Albert meant it, it troubled Albert deep down. 

       Albert had decided to open up about it to Finch a while ago. It was probably the best decision Albert has made in a long time. Finch was actually pretty good when it came to giving advice. Davey would’ve been too pushy - not that it was totally Davey’s fault that he came on a little strong sometimes, that advice was not something Albert was particularly looking for. He didn’t want to go to Race - Race was amazing and great and Albert didn’t want to bother him with any problems he might have. Finch was the best person he’d had to give him advice lately. And today was no different.'

      It was hard to concentrate on work all day. Sure work was never the best but he had the job of helping design video games. This was a teenage boy’s dream and he had trouble concentrating because he was missing his hometown. It sucked. He hated his hometown for the nineteen years he lived there, and now he couldn’t help but miss it. 

      Finch noticed. He noticed almost immediately. Albert noticed Finch eyeing him multiple times throughout the day and Albert could tell what he was concerned without him even needing to say anything. And, almost predictably, he brought it up when they were finally alone during a lunch break that they thankfully had together, despite them having separate jobs. 

        “Okay, I’m just gonna get to the point,” Finch announced as they sat down to eat lunch. “You’ve been off. What’s going on?” 

         “First of all, you’re blunt.” Albert sighed. “Second of all, what are you, my therapist?” 

         “Albert.”

        “Okay okay, fine.” Albert stirred his water with a straw. “I’m just, missing Illinois and shit, and I kind of want to go back.”

         “Like, move?” Finch’s voice had the slightest hint of sadness to it. 

       “Nonono not move,” Albert replied quickly. Sure, he missed home a lot but he couldn’t leave his new life behind. Not his friends. Not Race. “I don’t want to be in New York for the rest of time either.” 

       “Okay then, what about just visiting?” 

        “No, I can’t just go.” Albert opposed Finch’s suggestion. “I’d love to but, Race and I have a great relationship and I don’t want to mess that up with my own issues. I don’t want whatever I have with him to crumble.” 

      Finch was silent for a moment before he finally spoke his mind. “Albert. You are my best friend and I completely understand where you’re coming from but can I say something, as your friend?” Albert nodded. “You are such fucking idiot. Race loves you. He never shuts up about you! Even when you are around. You’ve been together five years. If he wasn’t completely in love with you, he would’ve left a long time ago. And Al we both know he’d be down for the idea to travel the world with you if he could. I get that you feel that you are one step away from messing things up with Race but seriously, I don’t think he could love you more than he already does. Just, talk to him. And if something horrible happens, which it won’t, I’m only a phone call away.” 

      And that’s why he went to Finch for advice. Albert smiled a bit. Even though he wasn’t the most convinced that his relationship was a landmine, Finch was probably right. Race has done crazier things than just travel to a different state (even when he’s never been to a different state). Really, what’s the worst that could happen?

___________

  The first thing Albert was greeted to when he entered the front door to his apartment he shared with Race was their cat, Fishy, rubbing up against Albert’s legs. It was an interesting name to give a cat, and it was definitely a joke Race had stolen from the stage adaptation of Waitress, but the little guy seemed to love the name. So it stuck.

      “Hi Fishy,” Albert kneeled down to scratch behind the cat’s ears gently. “Where’s your papa?” He asked, getting a purr in response. Albert checked his phone to see a text from Race, saying he had to go out and help Jack with an unspecified project - which kind of worried Albert, but not to the point he should be - and would be back with dinner in a couple of hours. 

      That left Albert to himself. Well, himself and Fishy.  He didn’t do anything special during his time alone. Just put on an episode of The Good Place and played with his cat. 

      Soon enough, Race came home with dinner, The two rarely actually ate out, both opting to eat actual meals together. But tonight, neither of them had the time to get up and cook - so rice and dumplings made a good substitute. 

       “Jack wouldn’t stop calling me to help him with this top-secret project for Davey and he annoyed me enough I gave in.” Race rolled his eyes as he recalled the reason he left. “I swear ever since they got engaged Jack has talked more about Davey.”

       “Well, do you think that’s going to change once they actually tie the knot?” Albert took out two plates from the cabinet and set them on the table.

      “Don’t know, but he’s still gonna annoy the hell out of me. Even if he’s my best friend.” Race fed a tiny bit of rice out for Fishy - which was, fortunately, one of the things they were a hundred percent sure she could eat. Regarding Jack and Davey, they, despite being the second-worst couple to get their shit together, had gotten engaged 2 months ago and become the first couple in their friend group to do so. Jack was Race’s best friend, so of course, he was excited for him and Davey, but he was also annoyed. So so annoyed. 

   The two spent most of the meal enjoying each other's company. Race took up the opportunity to talk about his job as an astrologer, which Albert didn’t really know anything about, but still loved when Race talked about it, and Albert spent the whole time listening to his boyfriend and just adoring the boy in front of him. As the conversation drifted from stars to life back on the ground, however, Albert’s homesickness started to creep up on him again. Race must’ve noticed because he didn’t push Albert to talk and opted out of talking about everyday life. Soon the conversation became a comfortable silence between the two. Just them. No talk about work, no talk about life. Just them.  

     "Do you ever just get tired of the busy life in the city?” Albert said suddenly, looking up from his plate. “Like, do you ever want to get out?”

     “Well, I’ve never thought about actually leaving.” Race admitted. The idea of leaving was intriguing once he thought about it. But Manhattan was home, he couldn’t leave all that as much as he wanted to. That’s the reason Jack didn’t move to Santa Fe out of college and was now getting married to Davey in New York. Family had a strong tie. “Manhattan has always been home for me.” 

     “I’m not saying we should move away from family, I’d never make you do that if you don’t want to,” Albert assured. “I’m just saying, do you ever just - want to get out of the city? Even if it’s just for a day?” 

     “I mean- I guess.” The blond set his fork down before standing up and taking his plate into the kitchen. “I’d love to see what life is like outside of a major city, someday. And you’re bound to miss home at some point, so I’d be open to going with you if you’d ever think about going back.”

      Wow. Well, Albert was worrying over nothing. 

      “You’re the best boyfriend in the world, you know that?” 

       “Yeah, I do.” Race smirked. God damn. Why was this man so amazing? And amazingly sarcastic? “Seriously though, if that’s what you want, I’m down. I’ve never been out of New York and cities close by, so getting the chance to travel with you is something I’d be down for.”

      Albert chuckled. “At this point, we need to take you to every state.”

      “Why don’t we do it now?” Race suggested, setting his plate in the sink.

       Albert snorted. “Yeah, let’s do it,” It took a second for him to realize what Race really meant. “Wait Tony are you serious?”

       "Hell yeah! Let's just - travel the country!" Race turned around to Albert. "We can get a rental car to visit the connective states or whatever shit it's called we can buy plane tickets to go to the last two states and it'll take like what? A month at most? Let's do it, baby." 

        "I meant traveling the country as a joke, T,” 

        “I know, but honestly, Al,” Race walked over to the table, placing a hand on Albert’s cheek. “We’re young and stupid. It’s arguably the best time to do something like this.” 

         Now that he thought about it, Race was the perfect one to travel the country with. As dramatic and annoying Race was even when driving from Manhattan to Brooklyn, Albert would drop anything to be with the blond. And they were young and stupid, just like Race said. If down the road they got married and had kids, having the chance to do this - which with the help of amazing friends, they wouldn’t have to worry about their apartment or Fishy (as much as they would probably want to take her) - would be now. He wanted to do this with Race so bad. But there was still that part nagging at him. Something that stopped him from throwing caution to the wind and doing this with Race.   

               “Can I think about it?” Albert tried not to feel guilty when Race nodded silently. But he just needed a minute. A minute to reassure himself. Just a minute. 

        The rest of the night, Albert kept thinking about what Race said. He was definitely down for the idea, but some part of him was fairly hesitant. Hesitant that sometime on the trip Race may realize that he and Albert would probably not work out long term. Hesitant that 

       When he was comfortably sleeping in Race’s arms, Albert realized he had definitely lucked out with the boy. To have someone who not only understood Albert missed his home but also was down to get up and travel the country with him. In his few serious relationships he’d had, Albert had never come close to someone as lovable as Race. Sure, he still was worried about the possibility that Race would realize he may not want to make this a long-term thing but Finch was right. It’s been five years, and here they still were. 

        And if Albert was being honest, he’d be more than happy to travel the world with Race if he asked. 

             “You know what? Let’s do it.” Albert broke the silence. “Let’s go travel the country.” The redhead turned to Race, who grinned sleepily.

        “I knew you’d say yes.” Race laughed quietly. 

       “Yeah, right.”

_______________________

       They hadn’t finalized the idea of going across the country that night. Of course they hadn’t made the decision in one night. Traveling to all the states in the country took lots of planning - even for the most impulsive couple on the planet. First of all, they needed some form of transportation. Both Albert and Race had driver’s licenses - even if the idea of Race having a legal document allowing him to be on the road was terrifying - sure, but they favored using public transportation or just walking to get around. Luckily, New York has numerous car rentals. Second, this trip was going to be expensive. Really expensive. 

         That’s what they were discussing now. It was nearly one am and probably not the best time to be discussing where a huge amount of their finances will go but nevertheless, here they were. Discussing money over microwaveable pies in the middle of the night. 

        “What about where we sleep?” Race asked, throwing away the box for the pie in the recycling before shoving half the pastry in his mouth “Should we set aside a chunk of money to stay somewhere occasionally?” He asked between chewing.

         Albert drew out a breath before rubbing his eyes. “I don’t know, hotels are expensive and motels are shady. For the sake of our wallets and safety, we can sacrifice a month of comfortable sleeping and we can sleep in our car." 

         “Motels aren't shady." Race rolled his eyes, setting the other half of the pie on a plastic plate.

        "Yes, they are." 

        "You just don't want the extra excitement." 

         "I don't want to get murdered."  

        "Okay, okay valid point," Race finished off the pie. "I'm going to bed." 

          Albert let out a hum of acknowledgment. “I love you, Racer.”

          “I love you too.” Race kissed Albert’s cheek. “Don’t stay up too long though. We may be prone to pulling all-nighters but doing math isn’t the best at one am, and this is coming from a math whiz.”

          “Shut up I hate you.” Albert pushed Race jokingly, a smile forming on his face. 

          “You love me.”

          Yeah. He really did. He really really did.  

___________________________________

        It only took a week or so to get everything in order to hit the road. It's honestly crazy how fast the most spontaneous couple in their friend group put so much thought into a trip. At least it was a crazy thing to Davey, who somehow found himself helping his friends load up a rental van to travel the country. 

         Traveling the country was not for Davey. For his boyfriend - no fiancé. He and Jack were engaged. For his fiancé, the idea would be sold. A trip around the country was probably high on Jack's bucket list. The idiot was almost as impulsive as Race and Albert. But for  Davey, not so much. He loved traveling, sure. But that's something he wanted to do after he got married. Not on a whim in the middle of June.

         But his preferences aside, here he was on a Saturday morning, helping Albert and Race pack up a rental van for their trip to visit 49 states. That and get their apartment key so he could be in charge of watching their house and cat for upwards of a month. 

          “Are they really taking five different blankets?” Jack’s voice interrupted his thoughts, holding a clump of said blankets. “It’s the middle of summer.” 

         “Different climates, Jackie.” Davey kissed his fiance's cheek before taking a box full of very unhealthy snacks to the car. He definitely was friends with some of the most impulsive people ever, it seemed.

          Outside, Race set his duffle bag into the trunk. Well, one of his duffle bags. Davey might’ve rubbed off on him a little and he ended up overpacking a little. Granted, they didn’t know how long this trip was going to take in days, but he was pretty sure 4 duffle bags was a little extreme. Still, it’s not like he really cared. 

          “Seriously," Albert said, "One or two was enough." 

         "I'm sorry I wear more than sleeveless shirts and snapbacks." 

          "How about three?" Albert ignored Race's comment and took out two of his duffle bags, despite the disapproval whine Race let out. "We can always wash clothes." 

           "Whatever." 

           Jack eventually appeared out of the apartment complex with the blankets, nearly tripping around four times, catching himself almost every time. The last time he ran into the rental car. It was kind of funny to Race. Jack glared at the blond's snicker, causing Race to smile innocently. 

           Soon, Davey came out with the rest of the stuff they really needed plus a backpack that the nurturing side of him probably put together. He made a switch of giving Albert the snacks and Race the bag that included chargers, a list of numbers in the event they needed to contact someone without having their cell phones, a book or two, water bottles, and actually healthy snacks. He really was the mom friend. Race gave him a key to the apartment and Albert snuck him a short list of what to do with Fishy that only consisted of 'remember to clean her food & water bowl' and 'she has sharp claws. Race was supposed to take her to get them cut but he didn't so sorry about that'. Race and Albert said goodbye to Fishy and then to Jack and Davey. 

                And then, they were in the car. Ready to go on a trip across the country. 

          “Holy shit. We’re doing this.” Race breathed, buckling his seatbelt.

          “We’re doing this,” Albert repeated. 

          They were actually doing this.

[offspring-of-calliope]

Hey!

I saw you asked for requests, so how about some Redfinch and/or platonic Ralbert? Basically just Albert and the guys that make him all comfy and happy :-)

Hey, thank you very much for this request, I had so much fun writing this and I hope it turned out alright.

It’s called “A study in being subtle” and it’s basically Redfinch testing the waters of their relationship while Race is trying to help Albert with his biology homework. It’s a modern AU.

I hope you enjoy it,

Sincerely, me,

Lélodie

-----

Albert's head was spinning. He looked down at the notes Race was making while trying to explain to him how photosynthesis worked. Biology was one of the subjects Al hated the most but he had thought that maybe Race's presence would make it more bearable. And indeed, sitting next to Race in Biology class was a lot of fun but on the downside, he was too easily distracted to really understand what the teacher was saying.

The good thing was that Race was – even though he sometimes had the mental state of a little child – a genius when it came to science. So of course, they met up at Al's house today after school so they could do their homework together. Al just hoped that they would be finished before Finch arrived.

A smile graced his lips at the thought of his boyfriend. Boyfriend. The word still seemed a bit foreign in his mind. They hadn't been together for that long, nearly two months now, and they hadn't even told their friends that they were dating. Albert was always really careful when it came to relationships, considering that he hadn't even completely figured out his sexuality, and Finch respected that.

“... and that's it, basically. Easy peasy.” Satisfied with his conclusion, Race took a sip of his water and glanced over at Albert, only now realising that the redhead hadn't even been listening to him. “Al? You okay?”

“Mh, what? Yes, totally. Photosynthesis. Plants producing oxygen. Got it.” Contrary to his words, Albert's smile faltered while he let his gaze wander over the notes on the topic.

Race sighed deeply, taking an unlit cigarette from his pocket and put it between his lips, presumably to calm down. “Did you understand at least one of the things I've been trying to explain to you?”

“Of course!” Al retorted, maybe a bit too harsh. Yet, he couldn't help it. Languages came easy to him. Languages, sports, dancing, literally anything except for mathematics and biology and physics. He even understood a little chemistry on good days. But obviously not understanding anything made him feel weird, as if he wasn't enough and then, there was this urge to prove himself. Albert groaned and put a hand on Race's shoulder as a sign of being sorry for nearly snapping. “I understood the words you said,” he answered then.

Race laughed at that. “Well, that's something. But seriously, where was the point where it got too complicated?”

Al opened his mouth to answer but didn't get the chance to say anything because right at this moment, the doorbell rang. Confused, Al looked up. His parents weren't going to be home until at least eight in the evening and it wasn't even four yet. “I'll be right back,” he said, standing up and running down the stairs to get to the front door. Hesitantly, he opened it. The smile that had left his lips at the thought of his homework came back in an instant. “Finch,” he exclaimed, throwing his arms around the other boy.

“Hey, Al,” Finch answered, holding him tightly. “I know I'm early but my dance teacher got sick, so I had no class today and you know that sitting around, simply waiting, makes me antsy.”

“And here I thought you came early because you wanted to see me,” Albert said when the hug was over, followed by a bold wink.

“I thought that was already implied. Anyway, am I interrupting you or something? I can still come back later.”

“No, no, it's fine. It's just -” Al threw a look over his shoulder, then looked back at his boyfriend. He lowered his voice a bit. “Race is helping me with our bio homework. So maybe...”

“Got it. No couple-y stuff.” Finch nodded, intertwining their fingers for a moment to press a kiss on the back of Al's hand and let go.

Albert was certain that his face was as red as his hair. “Yes.” Hastily, so that Finch wouldn't notice him blushing, he closed the door behind the other boy and led him up to his bedroom, where Race was playing some game on his phone.

At the sound of footsteps, Race looked up. “Oh, hey, Finch. Didn't know you'd be here, too. Do you also need help with biology?”

“I am in a different course but if I need help with something, I'll let you know. Coming here was more of a spontaneous decision,” Finch answered, greeting Race with a small hug that didn't last nearly as long as the one he'd had with Al.

“So,” Al started, sitting down next to Race at his desk, after having brought another chair for Finch. “You wanted to know where it got too complicated for me, right?”

Again, Race tried to explain the topic to Al, this time with some comments from Finch, which were unexpectedly helpful most of the time. After a while though, Al got distracted once again. Since his desk wasn't that big, Finch was sitting very near, leaning unconsciously into his personal space to take a look at the notes that Race used for his explanations.

Being aware of Finch, right there, next to him, Al wanted nothing more than to lean back against his chest, feeling his warmth against his back, his touch against his skin. So he did just that. Slowly, so that Race wouldn't notice anything, he leaned back against Finch. The redhead could hear Finch's heart skipping a beat and smiled shyly, trying to concentrate on Race's words.

He was relieved upon realising that when he actually listened to what Race said, he was able to understand at least the basics of the topic.

Then, he felt fingers trailing up his arm, soft touches, barely noticeable. Finch's breath was tickling his neck and Albert nearly let out a dreamy sigh as his boyfriend pressed a feather-light kiss against his skin. Carefully, Al looked at Race but he was busy adding some facts to his former notes.

Feeling daring, all of a sudden, Al decided to go a step further.

He remembered the conversation they'd had, right at the beginning of their relationship. Both of them knew that Albert was a person that craved touch, yet it was also a known fact that Albert didn't exactly consider himself being allosexual. Of course, he appreciated the aesthetics of other people and enjoyed cuddling or little touches, yet he hadn't ever felt the need to get sexual with anyone. Therefore, they had decided to start their relationship rather slowly. Maybe trying some things and seeing how both would react to them.

Naturally, it had been a surprise for both of them when Al had suddenly, during a really soft make-out-session, exclaimed that he wouldn't mind taking the relationship into sexual territory carefully as long as it was Finch who was by his side. They hadn't done anything but still, the fact that both of them weren't opposed to intimate touches was something they were aware of.

Still a bit hesitant, Al let his hand wander until it rested on Finch's upper thigh. He could hear Finch holding his breath for a moment and looked back at him with a smug smile. Finch was also wearing a little smile but it was obvious that he was torn between not doing anything Al would later regret and keep playing the little game of doing things while Race was seemingly oblivious to it.

“Do you think we can move on to doing the homework or is there still something that's not clear to you?” Race's sudden question made Al turn his head, maybe a bit too abrupt and he hoped that Race wasn't able to see his hand that was still resting on Finch's thigh – too high to be explained with a platonic reason.

“No, I got it. I think we can move on to the task,” Albert answered honestly.

“Okay, I'm just gonna get the sheet,” Race said, facing away from the both of them to search for his homework in his bag.

Albert nearly yelped when he felt Finch's hand on his cheek, turning his head to face him again. One heartbeat later, Finch was kissing him directly on the mouth.

“Oh, there it is.” Albert cursed Race in his head for finding his sheet that quickly because the kiss ended as suddenly as it had begun so that their friend wouldn't notice anything.

Actually solving the tasks they had to do turned out to be easy on the one hand and really difficult on the other hand. While writing his answers, Al kept thinking of what to do about Finch since it was now his turn to play the game. But he couldn't come up with something, instead trying to get the homework done as quickly as possible so he could be alone with Finch.

He was tired of keeping his hand in place on Finch's thigh, so in the end he settled for putting it in Finch's hand instead. After a while, when Race and Al were discussing one of the last questions, he felt Finch starting to massage his palm and he feared that he'd never be able to stop smiling.

It seemed as if ages had passed before Race and Al finally finished their homework and Race was packing his stuff together. “Are you staying here, Finch?” Race asked, zipping up his bag.

Finch nodded, causing Race to look at him, then at Albert, then at their joined hands. “Wait a moment,” the blond started, seemingly confused, then kind of sceptic. “Are you two holding hands?”

Al was at a loss of words, not sure what to answer but Finch was just laughing. “We're not holding hands. I'm just massaging his hand.”

“A very platonic gesture, I might add,” Al chimed in, retrieving his hand back from Finch's grip. “I've read that platonic massaging was good for... you know. Your health and such. Biology. You're the expert on that, don't you know that?” The redhead knew that he was trying a bit too hard but he kind of liked what he had with Finch. Just the two of them. He didn't want to let anybody in on their relationship just yet.

Not only Finch but Race as well looked at him with a funny face. “Yeah, of course, how could I ever forget the healing power of platonic massaging,” Race eventually stated, taking his bag and standing up. “I'll find the door myself. I hope I could help you at least a little bit.”

“Definitely. Thanks for the help, I owe you something,” Albert said and the two of them hugged.

“Oh, don't mention it. It was also a good revision for myself. Bye, Finch” Race hugged Finch as well, then looked at both of them for a long moment. “Have a fun evening and don't do anything I wouldn't do.” He said with a grin, put his cigarette between his lips and left the room.

Albert only dared to breathe again when he heard the front door opening and closing. “Well, that was...”

“Interesting,” Finch finished his sentence as if he'd known exactly what Al wanted to say.

The redhead nodded. “That's one way to put it. Do you think he noticed something?”

“I'm not sure. Between your babbling about platonic massages with healing powers and me trying not to jump you – a platonic gesture, of course – I couldn't see if he was oblivious or just polite,” Finch answered with a smug smile and laughed when Al punched his shoulder lightly.

“I panicked!”, Al said. The sound of his phone distracted him for a moment and he pulled it out of his jeans, only to see that he had two messages from Race.

Al, you're my best friend and I love you to death but you're not only bad at biology but also at being subtle.

Also, you two are totally my new OTP and I'll support you no matter what. I won't say anything to anybody. Have fun!

“Told you so,” Finch said when Al read the messages out loud.

Al let out a sigh and put his head on Finch's shoulder. “Maybe learning to be subtle should be the next point on my to-do-list.”

“I thought the next point on your to-do-list was me,” Finch answered with a laugh.

“Why do I even put up with you?” Al tried to suppress a laugh and failed. Then, he put his arms around Finch, debating with himself if his boldness from before was a one-time-thing or if he might take Finch's comment seriously.

He took his time thinking and all this time Finch was right there, waiting for him, just happy being together.

[starship-squidlet]

Yo Ho, Hero! (A Newsies Space Pirates AU)

Finch Cortez

Finch Cortez was born in the thriving capitol city of Hyrule. He always loved the hustle and bustle of the city, but hated the politics that came along with it. So, he found his way to the most exciting profession he could think of: sky sailing. Soon, he moved on from that to join the crew of a spaceliner, and found his way into first the Outer Rim, then the Mid Rim, where he eventually got a job for a certain Hapan businessman. When Spot put together his crew for the Banner, Finch was one of the first people he chose for it: not only did Finch have experience on sailing-style ships that Spot knew he needed, he had proven himself an extremely capable sailor, deckhand, and crew member on the various ships he’d worked on over the years. Plus, the fledgling wings Finch inherited from the Rito side of his family are particularly useful for navigating the rigging of a sailing ship.

Half Hylian, Half Rito

Mid twenties

Friendly, cheerful, and outgoing, Finch has a fairly happy-go-lucky attitude and doesn’t let much get to him.

Dream job:

Current job: deckhand

Home planet: Hyrule

Tag list: @fifty-for-the-racer @violentbirds @idontdoglitter @i-need-more-sleepzzz @chemicalmoose (ask to be added/removed!)

All images from google and unsplash. Let me know if they belong to you and you’d like them credited or removed. Made in procreate.

[lesjacobs]

Happy Halloween

Happy Halloween!

Ships: Javid, Spralbert (Minor), Newsbians

“Boo,” Jack said, leaning against a door, his arms crossed over his chest.

David raised an eyebrow, “you’re not scary,” he said.

Jack gasped, putting a hand on his chest in fake offense, “how dare you. I’ll have you know that I’m very scary.”

David shook his head, laughing, “no, you’re not.”

Jack rolled his eyes jokingly, “whatever you say.” He looked up suddenly, remembering something, “you made the cookies right?”

David nodded, “and you bought the candy?”

“Yeah. Hopefully I bought enough for everyone and the trick or treaters. I should probably get more though, Race and Albert are gonna eat all that we’s got.”

“Or you could just ask them to pick up candy on the way?” David suggested.

Jack grinned, “you’re a genius, Dave!” The man pulled out his phone and quickly typed something. “He said yeah, they’ll get some,” he said receiving a reply.

“Okay,” David nodded, trying to keep his thoughts organized, “you ordered the pizza, right?”

“Yeah, we got it, Davey. I’m gonna pick it up in half an hour. And then we’ll have another half an hour before anyone gets here. Except for Race. He’ll probably be here in fifteen.”

David’s eyes shot up, filled with nervousness, “do we have everything ready?”

Jack nodded, placing a hand on his husband’s shoulder, “we’s got everything. And it ain’t like they’d expectin’ some fancy party. It’s just us.”

David nodded slowly, trying to breathe, “okay. Everyone’s coming?”

Jack nodded, “no one’s said otherwise, so I think so.”

“Okay,” David muttered to himself, “we have the cookies, candy, we’ll get the pizza soon, do we have the vegan salad for Elmer?”

Jack scrunched his nose, “yeah, I don’t know how he likes that stuff though. I’d die without pizza.”

David raised an eyebrow, “it’s salad. You’ve had salad before.”

“I know, but life without pizza? Torture,” Jack said dramatically, draping himself over the old blue and green couch the two were standing next to.

David laughed and Jack looked down at his watch, “I should go pick up the pizza,” he said, “Race might be here soon. Just lock him out until five.”

David laughed, “I’m not locking your brother out.”

“I give you full permission to lock him out until it’s a reasonable time to let him in,” Jack laughed, “he won’t care.”

“Are Spot and Albert arriving with him or after him?”

“After. Race was at the studio before he’s coming over here. They should arrive at a reasonable time.”

David nodded, “okay.”

Jack stepped toward the door, pulling his red coat onto him. “Bye,” he said, opening the door.

“Bye, love you.”

“Love you too,” Jack stepped out the door, his coat bundled around him, and carefully shut it behind him, going to get the pizza.

David paced around the small living room, mentally checking to make sure he had everything. He counted on his fingers for each item, muttering to himself what they were. “We have the chairs, we have enough candy for the trick-or-treaters, we have drinks, Jack’s getting pizza,” his taking inventory wad cutting off by the ringing of the doorbell.

“Hey Race,” David opened the door to see his brother in law standing on the other side, snow in his hair, and a grocery bag full of candy grasped in his hand.

“Hey Davey,” he looked around, “can I come in?”

“Yeah,” David moved out of the doorway, making room for Race to enter. “How’s your Halloween been so far?” He asked.

“We let people in the studio wear costumes to class,” Race said, smiling slightly, “some kid in the upper level ballet class showed up dressed as a zombie. Ended up scaring half the younger kids.”

“That bad, huh?” David hadn’t been out of the house much that day, as it was a Saturday. “I haven’t really seen anyone yet, compared to you nothing’s happened at all.”

—————

“What was y’all’s favorite Halloween costume as a kid,” Jack asked, sprawled across David’s lap on the couch. Everyone had been over at their apartment for a couple of hours, and so far it had been going well.

“I was Elphaba one year,” Sarah offered from her spot next to Katherine.

“And Katherine was Glinda. We were there,” Albert said.

“You asked.”

“Anyways, I was an inflatable dinosaur one year, that was great,” Race said.

“What happened to that costume?” Finch asked.

“Jack popped it with a pin,” Crutchie said.

“I did not!”

“Did too! I saw you do it!”

“I swear on my life it wasn’t me,” Jack said.

“Whatever,” Spot said, steering the conversation back to what it was, “I was Captain America every year until I turned eight.”

“What happened after eight, Spotty?” Race asked.

Spot scowled, “I stopped dressing up.”

“I was Bigfoot once,” Albert said. “It was great. I wore stilts and wore a Chewbacca mask.”

“Bigfoot: the real life wookie,” Race piped up from his spot on the floor.

“I went as a cowboy,” Jack said.

“You’ve been a cowboy every year since you were seven,” Crutchie said at the same time that Race said, “a costume is supposed to be something you ain’t.”

“Haha,” Jack laughed dryly, “maybe I just didn’t want to spend Medda’s money on anything else.”

“I was a cat one year,” said Crutchie.

“When I was younger, I went as a dragon,” David said.

“I remember that!” Said Sarah, “I was a princess and Les was a knight!”

“Yeah,” David nodded, “that was a great Halloween. People gave us more candy because our costumes matched.”

“I was Superman when I was younger,” Elmer said.

“I went as Clark Kent one time,” said Specs.

“Why Clark Kent?” Finch asked.

“Why not?” Specs asked.

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

“When I was about four, I was Romeo from Romeo and Juliet,” Romeo said.

“That- that’s amazing,” Race wheezed, “you’re parents are great.”

The group fell into familiar chatter as they talked about theirs jobs and what they’ve been doing. David watched his friends, smiling. He had nothing to be worried about. A ring of the doorbell snapped him out of this thoughts. He grabbed the candy from next to the door and opened it to see three young witches, all clutching bright orange jack-o-lanterns. The three held their buckets out and chanted “trick or treat!”

[crutchie-with-a-y]

Newsies Quarantine Fact #9

Finch has been practicing his sling shot a lot. At first he was just shooting at empty hand sanitizer bottles and old soda cans, but one day while on his balcony, his neighbor across from him noticed and set up cans on their balcony for him to knock down. And so now they set up things for each other to shoot at from across the street and Finch his training his neighbor in HiS wAyS

[ethereal-bumble-bee]

hi! i have a writing prompt

just finch, albert, and race being silly and hanging out :)

Note: I enjoy writing these three so much, they’re so silly 💙

Enjoy! Anybody who’d like to see me write something specific like this, feel free to ask! 😁

“D’you think babies are always like that?”

Albert raised an eyebrow at Race’s question, and Finch looked up from the game of cards they were playing. “You mean, actual children?” He asked. “Like what?”

“Stupid.” Race seemed deep in thought, and Finch held back a laugh as Albert raised his palms in a gesture of mock surrender.

“Okay, I totally understand now,” he replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Race huffed, moving over to them and sitting down in the middle of their card game.

“No, I’m serious!” He argued. “What if each little kid is some sort of mega-genius or somethin’, and they lose it as they grow up, and they’s actually some sort of secret weapon?”

Finch set down his cards, patting Race on the back. “Sure, buddy.”

Finch and Albert were both quite used to Race’s random theories, a product of his constantly overactive thoughts. It was equal parts odd and endearing, if Finch was honest.

Albert always feigned annoyance at his friend’s interruptions (Race had a habit of waking people up in the dead of night), but Finch knew that deep down he enjoyed talking to him.

“Hello?” Race snapped his fingers, chuckling at their confused expressions. “See, told ya people got dumber as they grew!”

“You’s the best example of that, Racer,” Albert quipped, throwing an arm around the blond. Race rolled his eyes and tackled Albert onto the ground, yelling as Albert leapt up, got him in a headlock, and tousled his hair, the sound of their laughter filling the room.

A couple of other newsies glanced their way, but no one payed much mind to the ruckus until Jack poked his head through the door. “Hey, Al, Racer, Finch- how about lettin’ everyone sleep, huh?” He complained, shooting a glare at Race. “I know you started it.”

Race shrugged as Albert let him go. “Sure thing, Jack,” he called, and Finch laughed at the face Race made as soon as the door shut. “He ain’t no fun,” Race declared as Albert picked up his cards and sat back down.

“He’s got a point,” Finch pointed out. “It’s kinda late.”

Race stuck out his tongue as Finch and Albert resumed their card game, the entire room feeling warmer just from the joy filling the air. Yawning, Race stretched out on his bunk, lazily watching the boys trade cards and small wooden chips, smiling as he drifted off.

Albert checked to make sure Race was sound asleep, and turned to Finch. “Guess he finally ran outta energy, huh?”

“You know you love him,” Finch commented offhandedly, and Albert gave him a small slap on the arm, grinning.

“Damn you, Cortez.”

[thekadster]

birds

“Finch joins Specs for a bit of bird watching on a fine Saturday afternoon.”

Fandoms: Newsies!: The Musical - Fiertstein/Menken, Newsies (All Media Types)

Word Count: 846

Author’s Notes: The weather was nice today and I was listening to “Birds - Thomas Sanders (feat. Terrence Williams)”, and my mind just clicked that it would be perfect for Specs and Finch. I've been writing for four years and this is the first time I've ever put any of my stuff out there on the Internet lol. Looking forward to seeing where this goes.

read it on ao3

Specs never got out all that much. Most of the time, he would be busy with schoolwork, burying himself in papers and books, helping his friends study, and finally collapsing on his bed at some ungodly hour after all the caffeine and energy had left his body. On the rare occasion he wasn’t confined to the four walls of his apartment, although he loved getting a drink with friends for a break, his favorite thing to do was in the park.

It was a Saturday then. He sat under the emerald umbrella trees, gazing up at the green roof above him. He peered through the binoculars, scanning the leaves and the branches and the bark, and his eyes lit up when he spotted a hooded warbler perched nearby. Somewhere, he could hear blue jays excitedly babbling to every other bird in the park. Every so often, a gentle gust of wind would make the trees and the grass dance. Surrounded by the white noise of his little safe haven, Specs contentedly sighed and leaned back in his foldable chair.

“Hey, Specs! Didn’t expect to see you here!”

He jolted awake.

He knew who that voice belonged to even before he saw them approaching.

“Hey, Finch!” replied Specs, standing up to greet him. “What’re you doing here?”

“Just got back from the library, studied with Davey and the fellas,” said Finch, gesturing to the textbooks in his hands.

“How was it?”

Finch groaned. “I feel like everything got in through one ear and slipped out the other.”

Specs laughed. “Well, looks like you’re gonna have to wear earplugs for the finals.”

“How ‘bout you? What’re you doing here? You studied for finals yet?” Finch asked as he sat in the grass beside him.

“I’m a few subjects behind, but I’ll get back to it later. And I’m, uh, bird watching.”

“Really? What are you looking for?”

“Birds.”

“I know that, nitwit,” Finch said, slapping Specs across the arm, who laughed. “What birds in particular?”

Specs shrugged. “I dunno, whatever comes my way, I guess. Usually doves, sparrows, robins, ospreys.”

Another gentle gust of wind flew through the park. Finch stretched and laid down on his backpack. They’d known each other ever since high school, but he never knew that this was one of Specs’ hobbies. “How often do you come here?”

“Whenever school’s not beating my ass,” replied Specs, eyes once again through the binoculars

“When is school not beating our ass?”

Specs laughed. “Fair point.”

“Honestly, I wish I’d known that Mr. Albia would bury us in reading assignments straight out of winter break.”

“So do I. Davey and Katherine seem to be the only ones who’ve finished the book.”

“‘Course they are, they’re straight-A’s. Davey’s a genius and Kat’s the principal’s kid.”

“How is he? You were with him earlier,” Specs asked after he took a sip of his coffee.

“Sleep-deprived, but he managed to get Albert and Race to calm down and listen.”

“Doing the Lord’s work,” he joked.

Things were quiet for a while. Specs stared through the lenses while Finch’s eyes traced the lines of the canopy. The afternoon sun filtered through them, the sight reminding him of glass-stained windows at a church. He pulled out his phone a short while after and scrolled through his feed. He tuned out most of the sounds around him, but was snapped back to reality when he heard Specs curse.

“Hm?” Finch asked, not looking up from his phone.

“I can’t find the lark; it was just there and it flew away!” answered Specs.

“Don’t worry, it’s in a better place now.”

“Shut up.” Specs rolled his eyes, though his smile said otherwise.

Finch grinned. “When did you start bird watching?”

“Probably one, one and a half years ago? Maybe in March.”

“Damn, you’re really into this, huh?”

“It’s all the more coincidental because your name is Finch.”

Finch’s face lit up. “Hey, yeah! What are you lookin’ over there for? You got a bird right here!”

“I sit next to you in three classes, I think I’ve spotted enough Finches.”

Silence returned once more. Specs’ binoculars scanned the distant trees once more, only to jump when Finch’s face popped up right in front of them.

“Finch, you son of a-” Specs swatted his friend away with the lenses and Finch burst out laughing. He backed away and checked the time on his phone.

“Damn, forgot Elmer needed me for a project at 3:30,” he sighed.

Specs’ eyes widened. “It’s 3:30 already?!”

“3:23,” said Finch, showing him the big numbers on his lockscreen.

Specs allowed himself to breathe. “Oh, thank God. I got a study group at 3:30.”

“We’re all busy now, aren’t we?” Finch asked, putting on his jacket and his backpack.

“More than ever.”

“But hey, when hell week is done, the park’s all yours.”

Specs smiled. He folded his chair, shoved his binoculars in his bag, and the two went their separate ways. Until tomorrow, that was, when they’d be bugging each other in three different classes again

[hauntedbyvisionsof-flight]

First Snow

Anonymous asked: 17 on the christmas prompt list with albert x finch

17. “Do you wanna build a snow-“ “no don’t you dare finish that”

A/N: Albert, Finch, Crutchie, Elmer, Buttons, and Henry are all roommates in New Jersey. Crutchie really likes cooking. Jack lives in Manhattan (but visits often) and has a service dog to help with PTSD and anxiety. Her name is Molly and she isn’t fully trained, but they all love her to death (except Buttons, ‘cause he’s allergic.)

Albert and Finch were the only ones at home. Crutchie, Elmer, Buttons, and Henry had all taken Crutchie’s van into the city to go shopping for some decorations after the other ones got, uh, destroyed. It totally wasn’t Albert’s fault. Molly, Jack’s service dog in training, was just sneakier than he expected.

Albert was putting the finishing touches on his email to NYU, and checking over to see if it sounded professional enough. He really wanted to get accepted this year, instead of having to go to the community college again.

He took a break, rubbing his eyes and face. “I hate this so much.”

Finch snorted from his seat on the other side of the room. “So you’ve said.”

“Shut up.”

Albert sat for a few more moments, reading over the first paragraph three times. “Alright, fuck this I’m taking a break.”

“Have fun.”

Albert stood, putting his hands on his hips and arching his back. Several pops and cracks resounded throughout the room and Finch made a face. “How can you stand that?”

Albert smirked. “You’re just mad ‘cause you can’t do it.”

Finch shuddered. “I can assure you I am not.”

Albert did some stretches, kicking his legs out and taking giant steps around the room. He glanced at Finch’s laptop to see what he was doing, only to roll his eyes when he realized it was Tumblr. “Aren’t you supposed to be doing something productive?”

Finch spluttered. “I was! I was just - taking a break!”

“Mmm hmm.”

Finch slammed his laptop shut. “Know what? I’m hungry. I’m getting food.”

“An excellent idea, darling.”

“I know. I’m a genius.”

The two made their way into the kitchen, Albert throwing the fridge open while Finch looked through the cabinets.

“So, I’m no Crutchie, but what do you want?”

“Hmmm. Toast?”

“What kind?”

“Honey and avocado?”

“This is why we can’t afford a house.”

Finch snorted. “Yeah, that’s it. I’m sure it has nothing to do with student loans or how shitty the economy is. It is definitely because I enjoy avocado toast.”

“Or the fact that one of us is the Cortez heir and has thousands laying around, just waiting to be spent.”

Finch sighed. “Albert, we’ve talked about this-”

“I know, I know.”

Finch pulled bread down from the cabinet, and honey from the cupboard. Albert pulled out the avocado and some butter, setting them on the counter beside the loaf of bread. Finch placed the toaster on the counter and put two slices in.

Albert crossed over to the window. The huge floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room were closed and the curtains shut to help with the heating cost. It was December 12, and they still hadn’t had the first snowfall. Elmer swore up and down that he could smell the snow when he woke up that morning, but Crutchie’s leg disagreed. Of course, Elmer’s nose had never been wrong, and Crutchie’s leg was a finicky as the man himself.

Albert propped his elbows on the sink, looking out the kitchen window. Dark clouds had rolled up over the course of the day and made the day outside look as cold as it felt. As Albert was watching, a single snowflake fell from the sky.

“Finch! Snow!”

“Mm. Nice.”

“Finch! It’s snowing!”

“You said.”

Albert bent to find a plastic bowl from under the sink. “I will never understand how you don’t get excited about snow.”

“I will never understand how you do get excited about it every year.” But Albert hadn’t heard him, instead slipping and sliding back through the living room, flinging open the glass door that lead onto the balcony. Closing it behind him, Albert set the bowl on the table to collect some snow for snow ice cream. He leaned on the balcony, watching as snow fell and blanketed the city in a cover of white.

After a few minutes, enough snow had landed on his shoulders and melted into his shirt that he was beginning to feel the chill. He turned back to open the door, but it was locked.

He knocked on the door. “FINCH!”

Finch looked up from his seat on the couch, avocado toast hanging from his mouth. “Wa?”

“Let me in!”

“Nah.” He took the toast out.

“Finch!”

“Albert!”

Albert did his best attempt at puppy eyes, but Finch just laughed, picking up his phone and opening Snapchat. Albert knocked on the door four times in succession.

“Do you wanna build a snow -”

“NO! Don’t you dare finish that!!”

“THEN LET ME IN!”

“Fine!”

Finch put his phone down and opened the door.

“Frozen’s a good movie. I don’t understand why you hate it so much,” Albert said, pushing past Finch into the living room.

“I don’t hate Frozen, I hate how popular it became and how it over-inflated the market.”

“Ah yes, like Hamilton.”

“Hamilton is art.”

“So are DEEZ NUTS.”

Finch sighed and pinched his nose. “You’re ridiculous.”

“No, I’m Albert.”

Finch screamed in frustration as Albert laughed. It was weird, but it was their relationship. It was them, and neither would trade it for the world.

Recipe for Snow Ice Cream

1 cup milk (any kind)

1/3 cup granulated sugar.

1 teaspoon vanilla extract, store-bought or homemade.

1 pinch salt.

8 cups clean snow or shaved ice (more or less depending on the density of the snow)

optional (but strongly suggested) topping: sprinkles!!!

Tag List:

@actually-races-erster​

@albertdasilva @alixismad @anna-exe

@ben-cook-can-cook @thebookofbella @broadwayandbookblog @cattt420 @atomicfebreze @daeynore @daveys-pet-snake @delanceys-pantsies @elmers-half-a-cup @esyazzmean @fandomscraziness22 @heytheywascoronas @ishouldprobablyworkoutmore @i-got-personality @mcoomcoo​

@minikker02

@newsieofnj @nymphadoratonksx @races-cigar @rebecko @thesmallestbits @stuckinmyneverendingheadspace @sparkleystallion @thatshiscigar​

[newsies-is-my-erster]

This is amazing! I love it!

Second Love, First Choice

@hotcocoanddrawing this is a Christmas present for you cause you said you like redfinch and here’s something I wrote for you! I’m now realizing that I don’t know you that well so if you don’t celebrate Christmas or you don’t like this just feel free to ignore it. The fic itself isn’t holiday related, though.

Tw: general angst, I guess?

Albert had escaped the Refuge five times in four years and he didn’t think he’d ever been this sick to his stomach. Ever.

Making his way through the main room of the Lodging House, he thought he was acting like nothing was wrong pretty successfully, but inside, he felt like he was going to either have a panic attack or throw up.

Why couldn’t love be simple? Why did it have to turn your stomach so much, make the words fall out of your brain and your hands shake and your legs feel like jelly?

“Hey, can we talk?”

Albert barely got the words out before realizing he should probably clarify.

“Alone. Can we talk alone?”

Finch looked a little confused, but he nodded, “Okay.”

Albert swallowed his nausea, trying desperately to calm his fear as he and Finch stepped out into the hallway.

It would be okay. He already knew... nothing that made him feel better, because the point was that he didn’t know how Finch was going to react to what he was about to say.

“Al, is everything okay?”

Hell, he didn’t even know what he was about to say. He couldn’t decide on the right wording.

“I’m in love with you.”

Well, that probably wasn’t the right wording.

“You’re...” Finch wasn’t meeting his eyes, “Al, what the hell?”

“I am,” he said, hoping his tone was serious enough, “I promise, Finch. I... you helped me get over Race. You know that much. What you don’t know is how hard I tried to keep ya out of my heart after that, only I failed. I was scared to fall again, but I fell for you harder than I thought was possible. I swear.”

Finch still just stared at him in stunned silence, his expression unreadable.

“You ain’t a consolation prize because I can’t have Race,” Albert promised, “Race is happy with Spot and I’m happy for him ‘cause he’s my best friend. But that’s all he is. A friend. I don’t love him that way anymore.”

The words just kept spilling out, as Albert desperately tried to make the feelings in his heart make sense.

“I thought what I felt for Race was real ‘cause I’d never felt this. But now that I’m feelin’ it, I don’t know how I ever thought I was in love with my best friend. ‘Cause what I feel for you—that’s the realest thing I’s ever felt. I dunno how to put it into words. I’m no good at that. But I just... I don’t blame ya if ya don’t believe me. I’s been a shitty friend and I’d probably be a worse lover, but I do love you, Finch. I know how it sounds, but I just want ya to know.”

Every second of silence where Finch didn’t respond was deafening, but Albert had already said all he could. Now he just had to hope it was enough.

He’d fallen hard for Race months ago, and when his best friend couldn’t return his feelings, he’d spent a long time sulking, with a few friends, Finch among them, trying their best to pull him out of it. And then Elmer accidentally let it slip that Finch was sweet on him.

Albert had been heartbroken enough that he was willing to take any distraction. He wasn’t thinking straight, wasn’t thinking about anyone’s feelings but his own when he made a move.

Naturally, Finch shut him down. He wasn’t willing to be just someone’s second choice, even if that someone was one he did want to be with. After thinking on that for more than two seconds, Albert started feeling pretty terrible about it, so he’d stuck close to him as a friend to make up for it.

He hadn’t expected to fall for Finch for real as he got over Race, but he had. And he hadn’t known what to do about it until after a talk with his best friend.

Race had said that he and Finch needed to talk, and he was right, but honestly...

Albert wouldn’t blame Finch if he didn’t believe him. He wouldn’t believe him, after he’d almost taken advantage of the other boy’s feelings before.

But despite his mistakes, he loved Finch enough that he didn’t care much if this didn’t come to anything. What mattered to him was keeping Finch in his life. He could deal with another broken heart, but not if he lost his friend in the process.

Then Finch was pulling him in for a hug.

“Oh, Al...” he mumbled, and Albert definitely was not trying to hold back tears as he leaned his face into the taller boy’s shoulder.

“Finch,” he whispered, “I love you. I really do.”

“I believe ya.”

That was surprising enough that it made Albert pull back from the hug.

“Ya do?”

“Uh, yeah,” Finch laughed a little, but it looked like he was holding back tears, too, “Yeah, I knows what it looks like when ya fall for someone. I did watch ya fall for Race, after all.”

Albert rolled his eyes, “Oh, are ya tellin’ me ya knew I had it bad for you this whole time?”

“I wasn’t sure if it was just me seein’ what I wanted to see, but I’s suspected.”

“Modest.”

They both laughed at that, both smiling probably too much.

Albert bit his lip out of nervousness.

His first kiss had been with Race, just a drunken experiment with some booze they’d saved up for to celebrate Albert’s birthday with.

He was still so young that it was probably stupid to say he hoped his last kiss would be with Finch, but...

“Can I..?”

Finch nodded quickly, and Albert put his hand up to the other boy’s face, pulling him down for a kiss that felt overdue.

It had been a long, complicated road, but that kiss felt right in a way that Albert had never experienced before.

Love was complicated, but Albert didn’t feel like he was going to throw up anymore, so he guessed maybe the complications were what made it worth fighting for.

He’d fight for Finch any day. Not his first love, but definitely his first choice.

[offspring-of-calliope]

Drabble #2: The Love Letter (Redfinch)

Description: Race is trying to help Al write a love letter for Finch. (Canon era, Redfinch, implied Sprace, platonic Ralbert)

A/N: To be honest, I once again don't even know what this is. It was just a random thought that came to my head and suddenly I had this little drabble and I wanted to share it. Comments would be really nice.

I hope you enjoy,

Sincerely, me,

Lélodie

-----

"What's brown?"

"A color," Race deadpanned.

Albert shoved him in the side with his shoulder and rolled his eyes at him. For the third time since Race had agreed to help him to draft a love letter on the remains of a paper he hadn't sold that day. "You's not funny. I mean - what are things that are brown?"

"Well, I don't know." Race took a long drag from his cigar. "Dirt. Wood. Cigars, sometimes. Is there a right answer?"

Al didn't respond for a while. He played with the pencil in his fingers, looking deep in thought. Then, he started, "Do ya think I can write: Your eyes is as brown as the earth I walk on?"

"You're kidding me, right? What happened to romance, ya basically tell him that his eyes look like dirt."

"No, I don't!" Al protested. He began to regret his plan to finally tell Finch how he felt with the help of a letter. Maybe he should just keep his mouth shut before he truly embarrassed himself. "I write earth and without the earth's existence I couldn't live. It's a romantic metaphor."

"A romantic metaphor that nobody gets, Al. Are ya tryin' ta insult him into never talking to you again or are ya tryin' ta woo him?"

"Oh, of course ya don't get it. You got the King of Brooklyn kissin' yer feet without even liftin' a finger. Ya don't need ta impress him." Al sighed, reading over what he'd already written down. However, all he had already written down was: 'Finch. I don't even know where to start cos I never wrote a letter before. But I need ta tell you something.'

"You's lucky Spot didn't hear that." Race chuckled. "Look, Al. I'm just tryin' ta help you but the letter has to come from you. Write whatever feels right."

"No, you's right. Earth is basically dirt. Let's just forget that thought."

"Alright. Maybe one of the others could help us. Maybe -" Race stopped talking. Al didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing but as he looked up from his paper and noticed the smug smile on Race's face, he realised that something was going to happen. Something that he wouldn't like. And there it came. "Finch, hey, Finch, can ya come over for a moment?"

Alarmed, Albert hit his arm. "Are you mad? Racer, you can't ask Finch-"

"Relax, Al. He doesn't need ta know who this is about."

"Who what is about?" Finch asked as he arrived at their table in the corner. "Everything alright?" Concerned, he looked from Race to Al, his brown eyes radiating a warmth that Al could feel deep in his bones.

"Yes. But we got a problem here. Do ya know how ta write a love letter?" The smug smile didn't leave Race's face, even as he put his cigar between his lips.

"I don't need no love letters. And I thought you and Spot's already a thing?" Finch seemed confused.

"Oh, no, I didn't ask for me. Al's writing the letter. But what about you? Ya already got a sweetheart, too or why don't ya need love letters?"

Finch laughed at that, although it didn't quite reach his eyes for some reason. "I ain't got no sweetheart. But when I like someone I'll just tell them personally."

Race gave Albert a pointed look. "That's what I told Al, too. But when does he ever listen ta me?"

"Nobody in their right mind should ever listen ta you, Race," Finch said and Albert laughed at that.

"Rude," Race answered, looking back and forth between the two. "I guess I'll drown my sorrow in some water. You can help Al if you'd like."

Albert vehemently shook his head but nevertheless, Race left them with a big grin on his face.

"Ya don't seem ta want me to help. Should I go?" Finch asked, his brows furrowed.

"Yes." Albert regretted saying his spontaneous thought out loud as soon as he saw the hurt in Finch's eyes. "I mean... Ya can..." A deep breath. "The thing is... that you's the one I like."

He surprised both of them with these words. Finch slowly opened his mouth, then closed it again.

"He also said that your eyes are as brown as the dirt he walks on," Race chimed in from behind Finch - neither had seen him coming back.

"Racer!" Albert exclaimed, exasperated. He wanted to explain to Finch what Race meant but he didn't get the chance.

He hadn't expected Finch's lips to be as soft as they were but he definitely wasn't complaining. "I'm glad you didn't write me a love letter then."

"Oh, shut up," Al said and kissed him again.

[starship-squidlet]

Twelfth Night: Chapter 9, Ladies Dancing

Summary: ✨ S T A R W A R S ✨

Word count: 2,441

Disclaimer: Twelfth Night Preface

Tag list: @the-cowbi @prettyinlimegreenboots @fifty-for-the-racer @wormsiewithablog (ask to be added/removed)

A/N: Yes, I really did cry through 2 hours straight of Star Wars Episode IX Rise of Skywalker. Star Wars means a lot to me, okay? xD (I did wind up super dehydrated afterwards and had a headache for the whole next day as I tried to replace my fluids. It was a time.)

Previous chapter: Maids A-Milking

Next chapter: Lords A-Leaping

Elaine smacked her hands down on the top of Finch’s console—which she could barely see over—making him and Mush jump. “Finch! What are you doing Sunday after the show?”

“Uh… Driving home for Christmas?”

“We’re going to go see Star Wars if you want to come.”

“I can’t. I’m driving home.”

“Okay. Mush, do you want to come?”

“I’ve never seen a Star Wars movie, so I’m going to pass.”

“You’ve never seen a Star Wars movie?”

“No. And when people react like that, it makes me want to never watch any of them, just to make a point.”

Elaine narrowed her eyes and stared at him. “Whatever. Weirdo.”

Alan appeared behind her. “Who’s a weirdo?”

“Mush.”

“Definitely.”

“Thanks,” Mush glared at Alan as he wandered into the wagon house. “So, you guys are twins?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You don’t really look alike.”

“Yeah, we both look like Alden and our mom, but not much like each other somehow.”

“I definitely would have guessed that either you or Alden or the two of them were the twins, not you and Alan.”

“We get that a lot.”

“Do you guys have twin telepathy?”

Elaine rolled her eyes. “No. That’s not a real thing.” She stuck her hands in her apron pockets and rocked back on her heels. “So, do you want to make this your first Star Wars movie?”

“Absolutely not.”

She shrugged. “Fair enough. Hey, JoJo!” she turned and trotted along behind the other boy as he headed into the wagon house. “Do you want to go and see Star Wars with us?”

“Who’s us?” JoJo asked.

“Uh… Me, Alan, Alden, Will, Jack, Crutchie, Elmer, and I think Sarah and Davey?”

“Sounds fun! When are we going?”

“Sunday after the show? It’ll be kind of a long day, and it’ll be a push for me and Crutchie and Sarah to get there with laundry, but we should be able to make the last showing for the night.”

“Okay! I’ll be there.”

.*.*.*.*.*.

Sunday was the last show day before Christmas. They had three full days off in a row for Christmas: the Monday that they normally had off, in addition to Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. JD had finished his finals and Elaine drove him to the airport to fly home early on Sunday morning, meaning that the apartment would be quieter than normal when they got home that night, between everyone else’s exhaustion and his absence. The Sunday show felt like the longest show they’d done since the start of the run. Everyone was jittery, full of nerves and anticipation for the day off.

At intermission, Jack, Albert, Race, and Elaine were crammed into the little alcove that housed the washers and dryers, doing their best to ignore the sulfuric stench seeping out of the washers’ drain pipes.

“That is just… so bad,” Race pinched his nose and stepped away from the pipes.

“I think,” said Albert, leaning forward to fruitlessly peer down the pipe, “that part of the drain must sit too high or at the wrong angle to drain properly, and that means that water just sits there without draining and just, like… stagnates.”

“You’d think with how much we run the washers it would flush it out, though,” Elaine grumbled. She was fiddling with the tiny bulb in the bite-light around her neck, trying to adjust its position so she could see better when using it.

Albert shrugged and leaned back, waving his hand in front of his face as if it would do something about the stink in the air. “I don’t know. That’s just my guess.”

Elaine shrugged, dropping her bite-light to adjust the dress laid out on one of the dryers for quick-change purposes.

“Hey, Finch!” Jack called, stopping him in his tracks. “Are you coming with us tonight?”

“I can’t,” Finch groaned. “I have to be home by seven tonight for family Christmas stuff.”

“Aw, are you sure?” Elaine leaned around Jack to peer at Finch.

“Yes,” Finch sighed. “If I’m late, my mom might actually kill me.” He glared at her. “I told you this the other day.”

“Did you? Probably.” Elaine sighed.

“I’m going to try and go see it Christmas Day,” he said. “But no spoilers before then!”

“Yeah, I’m going with my brothers tomorrow,” said Albert.

“Race, are you going tonight?” Finch asked.

“Nah,” Race shrugged. “I don’t care enough about Star Wars to brave the theatre on a weekend evening right before Christmas, which also happens to be the weekend directly after the movie opening.”

“That’s pretty valid,” Elaine admitted. “I wouldn’t for anything less than Star Wars.”

Race took a half-step away. “Star Wars isn’t worth it”—

“You get back here and say that to my face, Race Higgins,” Elaine snapped. She started to move towards him, but he danced away and Albert and Jack both reached out to stop her—Jack with an arm around her shoulders, Albert by grabbing the side of her apron.

“Them’s fightin’ words with Elaine,” Albert laughed.

“You bet they are,” Elaine grumbled. She jerked backwards and turned away to sneeze into her elbow, both of the boys taking a step away from her on each sneeze. “Ugh,” she groaned. She blew her nose and put hand sanitizer on, then went back to fiddling with her bite-light.

“Well, none of you better spoil it for me,” said Finch.

Elaine held her hands up. “Spoiler ban until at least after Christmas. Probably longer, depending on how many people see it over the break.”

“Good,” Finch nodded. “I guess, since I can’t go to Star Wars tonight, I’ll take a bad joke.”

Elaine’s face lit up. “Really? Okay, hang on, let me think of a good one. Um… What’s big and grey and can’t fly?”

“I don’t know. A whale?”

“No. Well, technically, yes, also true, but the answer I was looking for was ‘parking lot’.”

“Why the fuck would I have guessed parking lot?”

“I don’t know, but that’s the answer to the question,” she shrugged. “Have a good show!” She slipped out from between Jack and Albert, lifting her bite-light to her mouth as she stepped backstage. Seconds later, they heard spluttering, and she returned, face twisted into a grimace. “I got hand sanitizer on my bite-light…”

.*.*.*.*.*.

“I can’t believe you’re all going to the movies tonight.”

Elaine, Sarah, and Crutchie traded glances, then grinned up at Medda from where they were seated on the wagon house floor, waiting for the laundry to be finished. They had changed out of their uniforms, into far more comfortable street clothes, while waiting, and had already clocked out upstairs so they wouldn’t have to go back up in the crunch of time they had to get to the theater. “Medda, come on; it’s Star Wars,” Elaine laughed. “I personally won’t make it more than a few more days without seeing it. I’ll explode.”

Crutchie laughed. “That’s a definite possibility here.”

Medda shook her head, grinning. “That’s commitment.”

“The wash is almost done, and then we’ll be out of your hair, Medda,” Sarah said. “We already clocked out; we just need to hang up the shirts and tights and we’ll be gone.”

“We thought we timed it better to when the wash would be done,” Elaine sighed.

Before anyone could say anything further, there was a buzz and a chime from the direction of the washers. Elaine and Sarah leapt to their feet and Sarah darted towards the washers while Elaine helped Crutchie to his feet. Medda laughed to herself and headed off, shaking her head, to turn off the lights on the stage and in the house. By the time Crutchie was up and heading towards the z-racks and drying rack on the carpet, Sarah had pulled everything out of the washer and dumped the load into a basket. She shoved it to Elaine as the second washer began to chime; Elaine took the full basket over to Crutchie and the racks while Sarah filled the second, and they got to work.

Soon enough, all of the dress shirts had been hung on the z-racks, while all tights, fishnet stockings, dance briefs and undershorts, show bras, socks, and the brightly-colored elf leotards and undershirts were draped over the drying rack. The men’s undershirts went back into a washbasket and were tossed into a dryer with the sweat towels. Elaine powered on the washer while Sarah ran onto the stage to call to Medda that they were leaving, and then they were scurrying down the outside stairs, into the parking lot, and piling into Elaine’s car.

“Everyone buckled?” Elaine asked, not waiting for an answer as she shifted the gears and started driving.

“Wait!” Sarah giggled, clicking her seat belt into place.

“Elaine, have I never been in your backseat before?” Crutchie asked, pulling a beanie baby spider with giant, sparkly eyes out of the pouch on the back of Elaine’s seat.

“Uh, probably not,” she said. “We usually stick you in the front.”

“Ah, sorry!” said Sarah.

“No, it’s okay!” Crutchie said. “You get motion sickness. I don’t.” He reached into the seat pouch again, this time producing a large plastic box full of half-melted crayons. “Elaine, I have some serious questions about some of the stuff you have back here.”

“Wait, what did you find?”

“Melted crayons? Which kind of explains why it usually smells like crayons in here, actually…”

“Oh, I forgot about those. A lot of that stuff is leftover from the babysitting and nannying jobs I did back in Boston.”

“Like this spider?”

“Oh, no. He’s my friend. Give him here.” She reached her hand back, and Crutchie put the spider in it. Elaine set him on the recessed part of her dashboard behind her steering wheel, in front of the gas gauge. “Well, that makes it a little hard to see how much gas I have, but that’s okay.”

Crutchie and Sarah laughed. “You know you’re crazy, right?” Crutchie teased.

“All the best people are,” Elaine sang out as she pulled into the theatre parking lot. “Wow, it’s busier than I was expecting.”

“I hope we can still get tickets,” said Sarah.

“Alan said he and Jack and Davey got tickets for us already,” said Elaine. “He texted me before we left. They wanted to make sure we’d be able to get in.”

“Oh, good,” Sarah grinned.

Elaine parked the car and they all clambered out, heading for the theatre building. Inside, they found Alan, Alden, Will, Davey, Les, and Jack all waiting for them. JoJo and Elmer arrived just after them, and joined the group as Alan was talking:

“So, we weren’t able to get all of the seats together,” he said. “Most of us are in the third row. Jack and Davey said they’d take a pair of seats that’s a little further back, and then there’s another single seat a few down from the rest of us, but we’re going to try and just get the people in between us to swap for that one.”

“Okay,” Elaine nodded, accepting the ticket Alan handed her.

“Can I sit at the end of the row?” asked Crutchie. “It’s easier to get in and out, and I don’t want to have to walk past a bunch of people with my crutch.”

“Oh, yeah, Jack said you’d probably want that one, so I saved this ticket for you,” said Alden, passing the slip of paper to him.

“Okay, does everyone have a ticket?” Alan said. “Great. Let’s go. The movie starts in five minutes.”

.*.*.*.*.*.

When they all filed out of the theatre, Les and Alden in particular were chattering excitedly to each other, but the others were all talking over each other as well. The only one silent was, surprisingly, Elaine, who stood quietly tucked up against Will’s side, under his arm, eyes and nose red and cheeks tear-stained.

“You okay, Laine?” Jack teased.

“Shut up,” she sniffled.

Will laughed and rubbed her arm. “She got a little emotional during the movie.”

“‘A little’?” Alan repeated, laughing. “She cried for two hours straight through.”

“Wait, you could hear that?” Elaine gasped, mortified. “I thought I was being quiet!”

“You were quiet, just not… that quiet,” Crutchie laughed.

“Oh no…” she groaned.

“Why were you crying?” Jack asked.

“Leia,” Elaine sighed. “Look, Carrie Fisher was my idol as a kid. She’s the only celebrity whose death has made me cry”—

“Also for several hours,” Alan interjected.

—“and seeing her on the screen again was just… I mean, episode eight was bad enough, but this one was just… you know. Hard to watch, but in a good way. And the ending of a series, especially one that has meant so much to me as Star Wars has, is always an emotional time to me, so.” She shrugged.

“She also cried after the last Hobbit movie,” said Alan.

“And rewatching Return of the King,” said Alden.

“The last Jurassic World movie,” said Will. “Although that one wasn’t the last of the trilogy.”

“No, but it was traumatic,” said Elaine. “All the dinosaurs dying, and then the ones they rescued almost dying? Awful.”

“Don’t forget Detective Pikachu!” Alan piped up. “We went to see it for our birthday this year, and she cried the whole way home.”

“Can we not talk about how easily I cry please?” Elaine laughed. “Anyways, the reason I was crying then wasn’t so much about Detective Pikachu—even though that movie did make me weirdly emotional—I had a lot of things on my mind and the movie just kind of pushed me over the edge.”

“That’s valid,” Crutchie shrugged.

“Moving on,” said Jack, “who’s driving home with me?”

“You can either take Alan, Alden, Will, and Crutchie straight home, or take Davey, Sarah, and Les to the theatre to get Davey’s car,” said Elaine. “I’ll take whoever you don’t.”

“You should probably take the Jacobses,” said Jack, ignoring the twinge of reluctance in his stomach. “Your car is smaller. Don’t want to cram too many people into it.”

“Yeah, sitting in your back seat when it’s full is not fun,” Alden laughed.

“Okay, that’s fair; it is pretty tight back there,” Elaine agreed. “Let’s go, then. Davey, you’ll want to sit behind me; more leg room.”

“‘Cause she’s so short she has to sit inside of the steering wheel to reach it!” Alan called after them.

“Shut up!” Elaine yelled back.

“Make me!” Alan retorted, sticking his tongue out. “Oh, wait; you can’t! Your legs are too short. You’d never catch me!” He took off running towards Jack’s van in the distance.

“I hate it when he’s right,” Elaine grumbled.