#i am hesitantly keeping reblogs on but if people start getting annoying im turning them off

[voidimp]

boycotts really do feel kind of impossible these days its like "this company is doing this horrible thing so lets boycott them" so ur like okay well lets see what they make & its nearly half the brands in the store so ur like well ill buy the competitors stuff ig but the competitor (who owns most of the other brands in the store) is also doing that horrible thing so ur like uhh okay well i guess ill buy the expensive organic bougie brands but it turns out the expensive organic bougie brands are also owned by those companies so youre like fuck okay well i guess ill just buy the really expensive local stuff & then ur entire grocery bill goes to like half a gallon of milk and some frozen chicken and a single apple. & then u find out the family that owns the farm that all came from has donated to a cause that supports the horrible thing you were trying to avoid

[sun-kissed-star]

ANGST-OFF

The lovely @suddenly-im-respecsable and I both wrote a fic with two angst prompts we picked out for each other. They’re both Ralbert, because we’re both suckers for it.

Before you read these, if you’re a judge, please read this!

Our judges are: @galaxy-trees13  @bencookisagod  @c0ronas  @brooklyn-noozies @thecaptainsgingersnap  @aw-jus-let-em-try

If you’re a judge, please pick either story A or story B. Send an ask to my inbox (it can’t be anonymous, please go public!) saying which one you vote for. I promise you won’t hurt our feelings! We want to know who wins. Any anonymous ask saying which you vote for won’t be posted, sorry, babes. This is just for the judges to vote on. Feedback, comments, or reblogs are always, always, always appreciated, though! 

STORY A

trigger warning: explicit death and dying, explicit physical injury, grieving

Race was walking back from the Sheepshead when he heard shouts coming from a nearby alley. Hesitantly, he approached the opening and peeked in.

Race’s stomach dropped out from him. Albert was shoved against the wall of the alley, his lip and nose bleeding, trying desperately to hold his own against Oscar and Morris, who were approaching him menacingly. Morris had his knife out.

Race threw down his paper bag running toward them. “HEY! LEAVE HIM ALONE!”

Oscar and Morris turned around at the sound of Race’s voice, mischievous smiles playing on their faces. “Is this your little boyfriend, Dasilva? Has he come to save you?” Oscar teased.

Albert ignored him. “Race! What are you doing? Get out of here!”

Race shook his head, biting back tears as he approached the Delanceys. “Not without you!”

Morris gave him a sickeningly sweet smile. “Good luck with that,” he snarled, slashing his knife blindly behind him into Albert’s stomach before grabbing his brother and running out of the alley.

Albert’s eyes flew open wide with shock and for one painful moment he made direct eye contact with Race, blood dripping from his shirt onto the dirty street before he collapsed.

“Albie, oh my god, Albie,” Race mumbled as he ran toward his fallen boyfriend on shaky legs. Albert was slumped against the wall, practically choking on his breath, eyelids fluttering dangerously, one hand partially obscuring the gaping wound in his stomach.

“Hey, hey, baby,” Race rambled, tears dripping down his cheeks. Albert wasn't going to make it. There was too much blood. He was breathing all wrong. They were too far from the house. But he had to try, he had to at least try. “Look at me, look at me, right at me. It’s gonna be okay, everything is going to be okay. I’m gonna get you back to the lodge, Mush is gonna fix you up. Just stay with me, baby, please.” He slid his arms around Albert, trying to lift him.

“No, no, ‘ace,” Albert slurred, wiggling out of Race’s grip. “‘S no use.”

“No, baby, it’s gonna be okay, I promise, just let me get you -”

“‘S not,” Albert said gently, opening his eyes all the way to look up at Race’s tear stricken face. “‘S okay, don’ cry, I ‘ad a good life, I go’ t’ be wit’ you.”

Race pulled Albert’s head into his lap, one hand combing gently through his hair and the other firmly grasping Albert’s hand. “I know, I just wish we had more time.”

Albert gave him a pained smile. “We ‘ad all th’ ‘ime we needed.”

Race sniffled as a fresh round of tears filled his eyes. Even in the shadow of death, Albert still managed to be poetic. “I don't know what I’m going to do without you, Albie,” Race sobbed, leaning his head down on Albert’s shoulder. “You’re my everything. Who’s gonna steal my cigars in the morning? Who’s gonna make jokes with me at the gate? Who am I gonna cuddle with after a long day?” Race’s voice cracked as he fisted his hands in Albert’s hair.

“Shhhhh,” Albert whispered, draping one of his arms around Race’s back, he lacked the energy to provide any other comfort. “You’re gonna be fine, ‘ace. Jus’ keep goin’. Don’ cry when ‘m gone. Don’ let me stop you from livin’. ‘ou ‘till b’long ‘ere. Don’ try t’ follow me.”

Race nodded into Albert’s shoulder. What had he done to deserve him? And how was it that he was about to lose him?

Albert shifted, groaning in pain, and Race quickly sat up, murmuring reassurances. Albert reached up and, with some difficulty, removed his hat, letting his red hair spill into Race’s lap. Then he motioned for Race to lean down, and removed Race’s hat, putting his own in its place. “‘ere,” he mumbled, staring up at Race with tears in his eyes, “somethin’ t’ remember me by.”

Race quickly leaned down pressing a kiss to Albert’s lips, which he returned with desperation, suddenly very aware that this would be their last kiss. Fresh tears sprung into Race’s eyes at the thought. “As if I could ever forget you.”

Albert smiled, but it turned into a painful cough, wracking his weak body with sharp movements, blood splattering onto his lips.

“Shhhhh, shhh its okay, its okay,” Race soothed, rubbing Albert’s shoulder and squeezing his hand gently. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Te- tell th’ boys I love ‘em,” Albert rasped, his breathing now more irregular, “an’ not t’ miss me too much. An’ all my stuff, me shirts an’ stuff in m’ bunk, I want ya t’ ‘ave ‘em, ‘ace.”

“No, no, I couldn't.” Race continued to rub circles into Albert’s shoulder.

“Please, ‘ace?” Albert asked and Race couldn't say no to the desperation in his eyes. He nodded his head in confirmation.

Albert’s body was seized by another coughing fit, this one much more violent and intense. His eyes blinked closed several times, making Race’s heart clench. “C’mon, baby, look at me, one last time.”

At the sound of Race’s pleading voice, Albert’s eyes blinked open halfway and he gently squeezed Race’s hand. “I love ya, ‘tonio, don’ firget ‘t,” he mumbled in his barely there voice.

Race leaned down close to Albert, thumbing his fingers through his hair soothingly. “I love you too, Albie. So, so much.”

Albert gave Race one last smile before his eyes fluttered shut and the grip on Race’s hand released.

Race jolted awake with a start, wiping away his tears and forcing himself to take a few deep breaths before dragging himself out of bed and towards the window. Almost as an afterthought, he grabbed Albert’s hat from the end of his bed.

Race climbed up the ladder to the roof to where he knew Jack was sleeping. Crutchie had opted to sleep inside tonight.

Jack was leaning against the rail, looking out over the city. Race wordlessly wandered over and joined him, his hands toying with the hat in his hands.

After a few minutes, Jack spoke up. “You had the nightmare again?”

“Yeah,” Race whispered. “I don't understand, Jackie, it’s been almost a year, why does it still happen? Why do I have to relive it every night?”

“I don't know, Racer,” Jack sighed, leaning over to place his hand on Race’s.

“It just makes it worse,” Race continued. “I know he’s gone. I know he’s not coming back. And then, every night I see the whole thing happen again. And then I wake up, and expect it to be a dream, that he’ll be there any second to reassure me that everything’s going to be okay, that he’s okay, but he’s not, Jack. He’s gone. He’s never coming back.” His voice cracked on the last word and he bowed his head in defeat, the cool New York air biting at his tear stained cheeks.

“Truth hurts, doesn’t it?” Jack sighed, putting an arm around Race’s shoulders, holding him gently. Race tensed at first, he didn't like people touching him that much anymore, but then he relaxed into Jack’s embrace.

“I didn't try hard enough to save him,” Race sighed. “I could have brought him back here, we could have at least tried.”

“No, Race,” Jack said gently. “You did what he wanted. You made him comfortable. He just wanted to be with you one last time, and you gave him that.”

“I guess,” Race sighed. “Everything just feels so pointless without him here anymore.”

“He wanted you to keep living, right? That's what you told me?” Jack asked softly.

Race closed his eyes, reciting the words he had told him from memory. “You’re going to be fine, Race. Just keep going. Don’t cry when I’m gone. Don’t let me stop you from living. You still belong here. Don't try to follow me.”

“See,” Jack soothed, “He wants you here. You've done a great job, Race. I don't think I could have been as strong as you've been this past year.”

“It’s so hard though,” Race whispered. “I just want one more day with him. Is that too much to ask?”

Jack rubbed Race’s arms comfortingly. “Sometimes, the universe is a cruel place. You’ll see him again one day. I promise.”

“One day” turned out to be a lot closer than Race had expected. About a month later, he was thrown in the Refuge for stealing an apple from a street vendor. It wasn't his fault, he had been hungry and selling had been tough the last year without his partner in crime.

Snyder had locked Race in one of the basement rooms and beat him for mouthing off to a guard. Not that he really cared. He hadn’t cared about what happened to him in almost a year. He didn't have a boyfriend to come home to anymore, so what did it matter. He did stupid stuff, mouthed off to people, got in fights, and this time it had cost him.

Race groaned in pain, his ribs screaming from being kicked down the stairs, his back on fire from the lashes he’d received, and his leg was beginning to go numb, which he didn't think was a good sign. Race tried to keep his eyes open, but the darkness called out to him and it sounded so appealing that he allowed himself to slip away.

When Race awoke he was laying on something - no wait, someone. There was a hand comfortingly stroking his hair and Race leaned into it, sighing in satisfaction. The pain was still there, but it was much duller than before, barely an ache and disappearing by the second.

“Dammit, Tonio,” a voice said from above him. “Everything was just starting to get better, and then you do this?”

Race sucked in a sharp breath. He’d know that annoyed voice anywhere. But, it couldn't be…

“Albie?” Race spoke the name of his boyfriend for the first time in a year, it felt foreign on his lips and his voice cracked, almost as if he had forgotten what it was like to be someone’s everything.

“Yes, Race, I’m here,” Albert said soothingly.

Race hesitantly opened his eyes, crying tears of happiness when he saw Albert’s face above him. He looked just as Race remembered, messy reddish hair, warm brown eyes, lightly freckled skin, glorious smile. He was wearing the same clothes as the last time Race had seen him, less the hat, which was firmly jammed on Race’s head. He even smelled the same, like freshly printed papers, and new york city, and lingering cigar smoke.

“I- but- you’re, you’re dead,” Race stuttered. “Does that mean I’m dead too?”

“Not quite yet,” Albert said, running his hand gently over Race’s face. “You’re getting there, though.”

Race lifted himself up slightly, looking around. “Where are we? This isn’t the Refuge.”

Albert pushed him gently back down so his head was resting in his lap once again. “Shhh, stay down, okay? You’re hurt real bad, don't want it to get worse.” He paused. “We’re on the roof of the lodging house. I usually hang around you guys, it’s where I’m the strongest.”

“What do you mean?” Race asked, picking up Albert’s hand and holding it tightly. The pain in his back was beginning to return and he needed something to hold onto.

Albert gave him a soft smile. “I’m still around Race. I follow you when you go out selling every day, I’m standing right next to you when you're betting at the Sheepshead, I sleep next to you in the lodge every night. I’m always there when you wake up from that nightmare. And I wish I could comfort you, I really do,” he paused, sniffling, “It’s so hard to see you in pain, because of me.”

“You didn't do anything wrong, Al,” Race whispered. “Don't beat yourself up over this.”

Albert smiled slightly. “I told you not to cry over me when I was gone. And you still did.”

Race felt tears coming on. “It was hard not to, you were my everything. Heck, you still are my everything.”

“I know, I know,” Albert sighed. “But you were doing so good, Racey. So, so good. And then this happened. I told you to keep living, right?”

Race squeezed Albert’s hand tightly, repeating the words from that fateful day. “You’re going to be fine, Race. Just keep going. Don’t cry when I’m gone. Don’t let me stop you from living. You still belong here. Don't try to follow me.”

“And look, you tried to follow me,” Albert paused. “You never used to be that careless Race, what were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t.” Race winced, more pain shooting through his back and across his ribs.

Albert noticed immediately. “Baby? What is it? Talk to me, Tonio.” He stared at Race with a look of concern.

“Hurts,” Race said through gritted teeth.

Albert looked at him sadly before getting a far-off expression on his face. “Jack’s pulling you out from the Refuge,” he whispered.

“What?” Race’s face contorted in pain as he shifted in Albert’s lap.

“In the real world,” Albert looked down at Race, “Jack just rescued you from the Refuge. He’s bringing you back to the house right now. If- if you're feeling pain, that means that you're going to make it.”

“What does that mean?” Race asked shakily, needing to hear it from Albert.

“You can’t stay here with me,” Albert whispered, his eyes filling with tears. “You have to back.”

Race felt his own tears spilling over. “But I wanna stay here with you,” he protested. “I just got you back, I can’t lose you again.”

“Shhhhhh,” Albert soothed, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to Race’s lips. Race kissed him back desperately, trying to memorize the feeling of his lips, the way he tasted, everything. “You're getting a second chance, Antonio,” Albert whispered. “Aren’t you happy?”

“No,” Race wheezed, the pain was really setting in now. “I want to be with you. I can’t be without you, Albie. It nearly killed me when you died. I had to carry you back to the house, I had to explain to the boys what happened. I had to go to bed that night, knowing that you wouldn’t be there when I woke up. I had to keep living without my second half. I can’t go through that again, Albie. Let me stay with you, please,” he begged, clutching Albert’s hand as if he might disappear any second, which judging from his flickering, fading image was a high possibility.

“Tonio, listen to me, baby,” Albert said softly, tears clogging his voice. “You belong on Earth, living. You mean so much to all those boys down there, they’re all so worried about you. I can see it right now, Jack just put you on your bunk, Mush is pulling off your shirt, starting to clean your back. He’s crying. Romeo is hovering by the corner, and Specs is holding him back from jumping on you. Behind him is JoJo and Blink and Henry and Tommy Boy and everyone else. They’re all trying to hold it together. Elmer just ran out to go get Davey. They care about you, baby, they really do. They’ve already lost me, I don't want them to lose you too.”

“But I don't want to lose you,” Race sobbed. “Can’t I just have five more minutes? Is that too much to ask?”

Albert looked at him sadly, shaking his head. “No, Tonio, you have to go back. Don't try to follow me again. You're going to have a nice, long life. Don't rush it just to get back to me.”

Race’s vision blurred from his tears and the blinding pain that was becoming more intense every second. “Will I ever see you again?”

Albert nodded. “One day, I promise, Antonio, I’m not going anywhere.”

Race stared up at Albert’s fading image. “I don't want you to go,” he whispered in a pained, broken voice.

“Shhhhhh, just concentrate on living for me, okay baby?” Albert soothed, rubbing his hand through Races hair.

Race nodded weakly, his eyes began to flutter and he forced them to stay open.

“Tell the boys hello for me,” Albert whispered. “I love you, Antonio, don’t forget it.”

Race almost laughed at the irony as he stared up at the love of his life one final time. “I love you too, Albie,” he managed to choke out. “So, so much.” Then his eyes slipped closed.

The next thing Race knew, he was laying on a soft bed, muted voices surrounding him. He let out a pained groan. Immediately, the voices subsided.

“Race?”

Race cracked open his eye to see Jack kneeling next to his bed, Mush, Romeo, Specs, Blink, JoJo, Henry, Elmer, Crutchie, Tommy Boy and Davey all standing behind him, holding their breath.

Tears were flooding Race’s eyes before he could even stop them and he shoved his head into his pillow, reaching one hand up blindly to feel for Albert’s cap which was still on his head.

“Whoa, hey, Race, its okay, you're okay, we’re at the lodge, everything's gonna be fine,” Jack soothed.

“I saw him, Jack,” Race sobbed. “I saw Albert. He was okay. He talked to me. He -” Race gasped. “He sent me back here, told me to keep living.”

“It’s okay, Race, it’s okay,” Jack rubbed his hand through Race’s hair.

Race let out another sob. Albert was wrong. He couldn't keep living without him. He wanted to be where Albert was. But he’d lost his chance. Now all he could do was wait and hope the wait wouldn’t be too long.

STORY B

trigger warning: injury, child abuse, emotional abuse, sort of kidnapping

The basement was cold. There was a dead rat in the corner and the ceiling was dripping, the sound echoing off the walls and ringing back in Albert’s ears. His growling stomach, the pounding in his head, and the aching bruises were all he had to show for two weeks alone in the Refuge.

He sighed, drawing his good leg up to his chest. Snyder hadn’t even bothered to handcuff him. It wasn’t like he had the energy to move anyway. He’d fought until one of the guards had slammed a chair over his leg. From the sickening way it was twisted and the fire shooting up and down, he couldn’t guarantee it wasn’t broken.

Which was just fantastic.

He was picking at the dried blood under his nails when the door opened. A sliver of light at the top of the stairs was like a spotlight in the dark room. Two tall, broad shadows were there when Albert blinked and squinted. They were holding a third person between them.

“How are we feeling today, DaSilva?” The cold, demeaning voice involuntarily sent a shiver up his spine. “Still in the mood to talk back and disobey orders? Or are we ready to behave?”

Snyder came down the stairs, hands clasped behind his back and eyes greedy in the light. Albert took a deep breath.

“Fuck you.”

“Oh, so it’s going to be one of those days, is it?” Snyder chuckled, shaking his head as if trying to get through to a stubborn child. “Maybe this will change your mind.”

The guard behind him threw the third person down the rest of the stairs, and Albert winced as they hit the ground. There was a bag over their head, their shirt was ripped and threadbare, and their pants were slipping over their hips.

And then Snyder pulled the bag off.

Albert felt his entire body go cold. His mind went numb. His thoughts were on autopilot, a stream of no, no, no, no, no, no -

Race’s hair was matted with blood. A gag was keeping him quiet. He was glaring up at Snyder until the guard slapped him on the back of the head and his eyes landed on Albert. Then his twisted leg, then the bruises painting his face and bare arms. His hard demeanor collapsed. So did Albert’s heart.

“Recognize this face by any chance, red?” Snyder cooed, leaning down to grab Race’s chin.

Albert stayed silent.

“At a loss for words? Isn’t it just a miracle?”

Albert flinched as Snyder ripped the gag out of Race’s mouth with more force than necessary.

“Should we leave you and your little boy toy alone for a moment?”

Albert tore his eyes away from Race’s pale face to Snyder’s sneer. It hit him like another fist in the face when the spark in Snyder’s eyes gave away what he really wanted Albert to say.

He wanted him to crack.

He wanted Albert to beg and scream, he wanted Race to lose hope and go mute. He wanted the kids under his watch to lose whatever childhood they had left. He wanted them to leave the Refuge feeling like they lost their soul going in.

Race had been in the Refuge before. Albert had seen him come out as a new person. A person with dark circles under his eyes and tense shoulders and haunted looks.

He couldn’t let that happen again.

He swallowed back the bile rising in his throat, struggling to keep a straight face, and looked Snyder dead in the eye.

“You’re using him as leverage? That’s the best you could do?”

Race looked confused. “Al, it’s okay. I’m okay.” His voice was raspy and hoarse. Albert looked at him, feeling his heart pound against his ribs. Tears were pushing, but he kept them in.

It’s for the best, don’t you dare cry, don’t you dare mess this up, you’ve gotten Race in the Refuge as it is. The last thing you need is to get him hurt.

“You think I actually care if you’re okay?” he scoffed. “God, you really haven’t figured it out?”

Race shook his head weakly, shoulders rigid like an invisible string was keeping him up. “A-Al, you don’t have to - I’ll be fine, please just sto-”

“Don’t have to what? As long as we’re here, you might as well know. You were just an experiment. I was bored and you were there. I never wanted whatever you think we have.”

Tears were streaming down Race’s cheeks. His eyes were like ice. “You-you’re not -”

Albert rolled his eyes. “You think anything you say is gonna make me give a damn?”

Race looked down. He was out of words. Albert didn’t think he could keep going, and he risked a look back up.

Snyder’s scowl was halfway between pleasant and disappointed. He spat at Albert’s shoes, kicking at his bad leg. “Take the boy back upstairs,” he snapped. “He’s useless.”

The guard heaved Race up under the arms, twisting them behind him, and Albert bit his lip until he tasted copper when Race cried out.

“And you,” Snyder said, grabbing Albert’s hair to force his head up. “I’ll break you, boy. They always break.”

He slammed Albert’s head against the wall, spun around, and stomped upstairs with the guard in tow.

“Albie?” Dammit. God dammit. Guilt was already eating away at his heart, and he didn’t think he could bear to hear Race’s voice break like that.

Race was staring at him as the guard pinned him to his chest and dragged him up the stairs. He wasn’t struggling, he wasn’t shouting. He was limp, like there was nothing left in the world that could bring the bright smile back to his face. “Please, this is - is this real? I don’t -”

No. No, no. I love you so, so much. I’m keeping you safe, I’m trying to protect you, you’re only gonna get hurt if you stay with me, I’m not worth it, letting you go was the hardest thing I ever had to do, please come back, I love you, I love you.

All he could do was will Race to meet his eyes. He was mouthing the words over and over again, ‘I love you, I love you so much’, but nothing was coming out.

It was too late.

They had both given up hope.