'Jack's Too Tired To Think About It.'

and what if I make all the newsies in my au classically trained musicians... what then.

anyway Albert - trumpet

race - clarinet

Davey - alto sax

jack - piano/pitched percussion

crutchie - actually he's the only one who doesn't play anything .. he came along to all the band rehearsals and sat w them

Thinking about how novelsies spot is a redhead and how he's usually not described that way in fics 'cause even if more ppl read the novel we've already got albert meeting our redhead quota

Realising that if we did have both spot and albert as redheads.. considering the popularity of sprace/ralbert/spralbert... we could say racetrack has a type

Ralbert

NEWSIES PT.5

Can u write anything ralbert. is rhat real. pls. Angsty,.,,,cute,, whatever au u want that u haven’t picked cheavhers for please race and albert

YAS!!!!

this is a snippet from my au that im writing ! hope u like :3

----

It was a cold winter night when Race realised he was in love.

Knock knock.

Race checked the time. What would anybody want with his sorry ass at 11:34pm?

He padded over to the door, rubbing his bleary tv eyes.

As he got closer to the door, he heard a sniffle.

Race's mind raced. Who would be crying outside his door late at night?

Did he fuck up?

God, did he ruin his chances with Al?

He opened the door, warily, prepared for the worst.

Albert's teary blue eyes and trembling hands greeted him.

Albert stood a little taller than Race, so he had to stand on tiptoe to see him eye to eye. His red hair was displaced from his usual slick back, strands falling down into his eyes, wet at the ends. He wore a grey shirt, with the sleeves cut off (as usual), with no jacket, despite the freezing temperature and the snow outside. Whether he was trembling because of the cold or the emotions he was clearly feeling was unclear.

In his hands, white knuckled and shaking, he held a Tupperware container full of food. It looked delicious.

And his face. God, his face. He looked at Race almost pleadingly with reddened eyes, eyebrows drawn together, lips pursed and swollen-looking, freckles strewn across his teary cheeks like shooting stars.

'Race?' He asked timidly, bottom lip quivering. Race, in a state of shock, only stepped to the side and waved Albert into his apartment. He closed the door behind him, and motioned Albert to his couch before almost sprinting to his bedroom and grabbing his duvet off his bed. He carried it into the living room, where Albert was now sitting, trembling, staring blankly at the floor, the meal deposited on Race's coffee table.

'Albert,' Race draped his duvet over Albert's shoulders, and climbed over the couch to sit next to him. 'I mean.. Is everything okay? What happened?'

Albert melted. He collapsed against Race, his tears sinking into Race's hoodie, chest heaving with sobs.

'I-' he choked out. 'I made you food. I've been leaving it.. outside your door for... for.. for weeks now, and I just..' he took in a shaky breath. 'I wanted you to.. to know it was me and also I need my containers again.'

'Oh, Albert.' Race hugged Al into his chest, holding him securely and rubbing his back as he cried. 'You're alright, it's okay.'

'I'm... I'm really drunk.' Albert murmured into Race's shoulder. 'M sorry.'

'Hey,' Race threaded his fingers into Albert's hair. 'You're alright. You want a glass of water? Let's get up, I'll give you a hoodie and some water, hey? Then we'll eat the food you brought, alright?'

Albert sniffled. 'Oh.. okay. Yeah.' He took a deep breath and removed himself from the soft curve of Race's body, and stood up, shaking a little.

'I'll get you a hoodie, okay? Head to the kitchen.'

'Okay.'

Race ran to his room, pulled out his biggest hoodie and made his way back to the kitchen, where he found Albert nearly passed out on his counter, eyes drooping, hands clasped together, his hair falling onto his face.

'Here, bud. Put this on.' Race handed Albert the hoodie and retrieved a glass, filling it with tap water. Aware of how tired Albert clearly was, he slipped his meal into the fridge- he'd eat it for breakfast tomorrow.

'Thanks.' Albert whispered, pulling the hoodie over his head- it fit him perfectly, and suited him really well- and downed the water Race gave him next.

'You wanna get some sleep, dude?' Race asked gently, rubbing Albert's back as he leant on the counter again. Albert nodded drowsily.

'Here, follow me.' Race took Albert's hand, leading him to his bedroom. 'Sleep here, yeah?' He deposited Albert so he was sitting on the single bed. 'I'll sleep on the coach tonight.'

'No...' Albert said quietly. 'Sleep here too. 'S comfy.' He dropped down to lay on his side, patting the spot next to him.

How could Race deny this beautiful, beautiful man?

bonding with friends over your favourite fictional little guys

my favorite thing about modern au ralbert is that al doesn’t really dress outwardly queer he’s just like yeah. tee shirt with the sleeves cut off and baggy jeans and maybe a flannel if he’s feeling fancy. straight boy chic. and he’s dating urban dictionary’s definition of a twink

crutchie is a BIG fun socks guy ... he's got at least 10 pairs of utterly odd and colourful socks ... davey on the other hand only owns black socks and jack only owns white socks ..

Ok screw it. I'm just gonna say it.... This song is literally David singing about going to Santa Fe after Jack died and how he's going because it was Jack's dying wish, and he loved Jack. (Might try and draw the scene) Also I think if Jack died this is how they would have ended Newsies. Also David has a Photo of him and Jack and he's looking at it through the song.

@artemis-lynn