Love When Characters Have To Have A Domestication Arc Before You Can Even Consider Giving Them A Redemption

Headcanon that Albert just gets randomly emotional at night.

Race wakes up at like, 3am to the sounds of sniffling and turns over to see Albert crying his eyes out and Race, while extremely confused because why on earth is he crying at 3am, tries to comfort him and figure out what the fuck is happening.

Race: Al? What's going man, why're ya crying?

Albert, currently sobbing: The worker bees- They only live for th- for thirty days, which means that they- they spend their whole lives working for something they're probably never gonna even gonna see-

Race: Yup, and that's sad, but we're not worker bees buddy, and we have school in exactly four hours, so let's sleep this out, ey?

guyssssss...... I think chapter one is nearly ready to be published........ here's a small taster teehee!!!!!

'I'm gonna make you the best omelette you've ever tasted, David. Just give me a few minutes to get some cheese from my apartment. Mull over that equation, or something. I'll be right back.’

teehee this was super fun !!

no pressure :) @ethereal-bumble-bee @toffyrats @carmineskiesandspidereyes @coircus-aceman @getyourpaybackwithsomepayback and anybody else!!!

Make yourself into a spooOoky ghost or ghoul

tagging: @postwarlevi @chaotic-on-main @darlingheichou @humanitys-strongest-bamf and everyone else who's interested!

maybe im just being autistic and applying my blorbos to everything but i just saw asteroid city and man. davey as a playwright. jack as a set designer. them meeting on the set of whats supposed to be daveys magnum opus, except davey doesn't entirely understand what the magnum opus is yet. it's there, it's coming, but it's not done. jack and davey clashing on ideas, getting into fights and not being able to explain themselves properly, hashing those fights out and kissing many, many times. davey creating plays within plays within plays because theres so much he wants to say in so many different ways if he could just figure out how he's supposed to say them, and jack's trying his hardest to keep up despite how confused he is because theres something there with davey, something life-changing, and jack desperately wants to see it through.

davey getting into a car accident a few months into production. the scenes and dialogue and set pieces and tiny tiny details that davey was so passionate about despite not entirely understanding them yet, all being cut for run time. until what was meant to be his greatest creation ends up... unfinished. incomplete.

(jack tries to get it. he doesn't get it. it's davey's life's work and he's not getting it)

jack mourning a relationship that barely even happened. jack trying to paint. jack's paintings never coming out right, not what they used to be, not what they could've been. jack living with the loss of something that hadn't even really been there yet. jack knowing that something could've happened here that changed him entirely, if it hadn't been cut off halfway through.

confident davey is my favorite trope and i think we need more of it. hear me out.

jack, being known as the confident and charismatic leader of the manhattan newsies, always shamelessly flirting with anyone he can, never afraid to push the Delancy brothers (and others’) buttons, he’s jack kelly for christ’s sake. and then davey shows up, and everyone thinks he’s this uptight, quiet smart kid who has no business being on the streets selling papers, but he’s the first person who is able to get Jack Kelly to shut up and listen. so now the newsies are aware there’s something special about this kid, and they start to notice even more when jack loses his ability to think or function or act like his usual charming self the moment davey walks into the room.

idk maybe i’m a sucker for the old “nobody makes me lose my composure except this one person” trope. but like!! davey who shamelessly compliments jack in front of others!! davey who isn’t afraid to kiss him on the cheek at family dinner!! davey who has total control over jack’s charisma and he knows it!!

about to be 20 feet away from ben tyler cook. help.

...

See, you have Jack “on the verge of death, but everyone else’s health and safety are more important than mine lol” Kelly and David “I love my friends but I need to stay healthy too because I deserve it” Jacobs and they are in love if you even care.

"I am not a plant killer," Davey says primly, glaring at the shrivelled leaves as if they've personally wronged him. "The plants simply refuse to match my energy despite being invited into my space. And if my therapist is to be believed, that's their problem."

Jack raises an eyebrow as he snips off another yellowing leaf.

"So murdering your poor monstera is self-care, then?"

"Yes." Davey nods curtly. "Girlboss. Slay. Et cetera."

Jack shoots him an amused look, and he at least has the decency to blush a little.

"Look, I don't claim to know the lingo-!"

"No, no," Jack chuckles as he presses more soil around the freshly trimmed roots. "Girlboss, slay, et cetera - I get you. I'm pickin' up what you're puttin' down, Jacobs."

hi !

this is so random but can you write abt ralbert?? like literally anything ralbert, i need more fuel for headcannons :3

RALBERT!!!!!! I LOVE RALBERT!!!!!!!

teehee I wrote this in a moment of yearning, sorry it's so short :(

'Albert, seriously.' Race sounds exasperated, holding Albert's left hand gingerly with his own, holding a torn up shirt in the other.

'I'm sorry, okay?' Albert mumbles over his shoulder, away from Race. 'You don't have to wrap my hands.' He sucks in a breath as coarse fabric tightens against his bloodied knuckles.

'You don't have to get in fights protecting people who don't need protecting.' Race glances up at Albert under his cap, eyes hard and cold.

Albert stares back, trying to give his coldest look. But he winces when Race turns his hand over, so his knuckles are resting on Race's warm palm. The sensation hurts, but it's welcome. Race ties the fabric around Albert's wrist, and gently puts his hand down, picking up the other one, dripping blood on Albert's shorts.

'But he called you bad things.' Albert says quietly, scrunching his left hand up. 'He called Jack bad things. He called the newsies bad things.'

'That doesn't mean you should beat him up.' Race says sharply, pulling the fabric a little too taut around Albert's knuckles. 'We can protect ourselves.'

Albert looks away. 'But I care. About you and Jack and the newsies. How else am I meant to show that I care?'

Race ties the fabric around Albert's hand, finishing the wrap. He puts his other hand on top of Albert's, like a sandwich. 'You feel this, Albert? You feel my hands, and how warm they are? That means I care. Soft touches mean you care, not hurting ones.'

Albert bites his lip. Soft touches. When was the last time Albert felt a soft touch?

Race puts his hand up to Albert's cheek, rubs his thumb over the bump of an old scar. 'Soft touches mean I love you, Albert. Soft touches mean I love you no matter what you do or what happens.' He chuckles a little. 'That doesn't mean I condone you beating up Oscar Delancey for almost no reason.'

Albert smiles softly, before wrapping Race in a tight hug.

It feels nice.

Albert hasn't hugged or been hugged in probably years. He feels his insides melt with comfort as Race reciprocated the hug, rubbing Albert's back and tightening his grip around Albert's middle.

Soft touches mean I love you.