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#i think there should be more violence at the oscars actually.

adventuringblind · 6 months

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Possessive

Lando Norris x Reader x Oscar Piastri

Dialouge: "You are ours and ours only."

Summary: Oscar gets possessive during a night out.

Warnings: downright Filthy smut, marking, dom/sub, double penatration,

Notes: This is part of my 1000 follower celebration

Masterlist

Neither Lando nor Oscar would say they are possessive men. They love each other and their girlfriend, and they know she loves them. It's very difficult, however, to remain neutral while watching another man flirt with her.

He started a conversation while she was dancing with Lily and Carmen during their post race celebrations. She'd politely tried to get away from him but the man is annoyingly persistent.

"Should we help her?"

"Can we do it without punching him is the real question."

"But it would be so satisfying if we did."

"Osc, you scoop the spiders up and take them outside. There is no way you can punch that guy."

The Australian whips around to face Lando. A smug look plastered on his face. "Wanna bet?"

Lando, with no alcohol in his system since he Despises the stuff, agrees. The Brit would soon come to learn never to challenge Oscar again.

The woman in question still looks highly unlikely comfortable and getting more agitated by the second. Relief, however, hits her as Oscar appears behind the man pursuing her and taps him on the shoulder.

"Pretty sure she wants to be left alone." His arms cross over his chest but he still looks as unassuming as ever.

Most people would assume Oscar doesn't know the definition of the word violence. She knows better, though. Her and Oscar had been together before Lando. If it's in the name of defense, he won't hesitate to swing.

"I don't see a boyfriend anywhere. Maybe you should go where you are wanted." The stupid man who can't take a hint seethes.

Oscar takes a step closer, invading the others space. "Seeing as I am one of two boyfriends she has, I think you should step away."

There is silence on the other end. Then a brutal look of disgust. "Well if she's used goods then you can have her, pal."

The look she hasn't seen for years only appears on Oscar for a second. The one that has is inner demons raging. The unflappable, sweet, gentle Oscar is seeing Red.

Only a second before the Aussies fist collides with the other man's jaw, sending him reeling backwards. He's always had a nasty right hook.

She says nothing as Oscar promptly takes her hand and guide her to the entrance. Lando trailing them from where he was watching. The Brit looks a mixture of terror and turned on.

The car ride is silent apart from the loud expressions passed between her and Lando and Oscar's fingers wandering occasionally. The last time he was like this neither of them could walk the next day.

The thing about Oscar, the incredibly calm and unfazed Australian, is that he takes all those emotions and puts them elsewhere. Into sex, specifically. Lando learned this the hard way. His teasing went one toe over the line. He ran out Oscar's patience in a series of events over the course of a week to test the limits.

So Oscar likes control more then he shows. It gives him an outlet, per say. He times and calculates and gets some kind of high off it. Plus it resets him to where he can take whatever shit people throw his way without losing his mind.

Oscar doesn't let go even after they are saftley back in their flat. Instead her body is slammed into wall of the entry way.

"Why don't you tell her what you said Lando. What got you into this mess." The voice he pulls out is the condescending one. The one that makes her knees weak.

"I said you wouldn't punch the guy."

"And if I proved you wrong?"

Lando swallows hard enough for her to hear it. Probably see it also, but her eyes are stuck staring at brown ones that are eating her alive.

"That I would do whatever you wanted tonight. No questions asked."

Lando screwing himself is not shocking. Now, Lando actually doing what he's told? That is even more shocking then when he got drunk. Only once before he decided he hated it for sure.

"Then I want you stripped and on the floor in the bedroom." Silently, the Birt pads away to do as told. Oscar loosens his hold on her body and give her some space. "Seriously though, are you okay? We won't do this if you were any kind if put off by that."

"And miss this opportunity? Absolutely not. If anything to sight of you actually punching somebody has me feral."

"Good. Then let's go find Lando."

Lando, to his credit, is following through. He just looks wicked sad about it.

"Lando? You alright love?"

"Doing what you're told is much less fun."

Oscar rolls his eyes at the pouting boy on the floor.

She was going to ask for instructions. But as she opens her mouth she finds there is no need. Oscar is dragging her to bed. Her clothes are litterally (and unfortunately) ripped from her body. The room is cold without layers, but it won't be for long.

Oscar's lips are everywhere. He kisses, sucks, licks, and bites every inch of skin on her body. Every peice of her knows the feeling of the Aussies warm lips. Every kiss leaves her tingly and every bite leaves her wanting.

"Lando, come here. I think people need to be reminded that she is ours. Would you like that baby? Do you want people to know you are ours and only ours?"

Her brain is too far gone to respond coherently. Lando has already got to work, claiming her where Oscar hasn't already. The Australians voice is gentle, but it's demanding. There is a need burried within it that says he needs people to know she's taken.

"I swear you're just too pretty. Everybody wants you. I'm tired of them not knowing you're already spoken for." Oscar is the next to shed his clothes. Lando's hands have gone from stagnant to touching her like she is the air he breathes. Both males are staking their claim on her tonight. A shared feeling of want for people to know she chose them passes between the two.

Mumbled pleads escape her. Some kind of contact where she's sensitive needs to happen or she might combust.

"Think you can take both of us in the same hole love?" Back to gentle. His need to care for her outweighed the need and desire to have her like this. It makes her agree so fast she gets dizzy from nodding her head so much.

Lando gets to be underneath her. His lips are still attached to her skin. It muffled the moans and tiny whines he's letting out as she sinks down onto him.

"Yiu know, Lando. That guy said our girl is used goods. What do you think? Do you agree with him?"

Lando detaches, his mouth agape. "I can barely get into her mate. I don't know how you're going to. Feels good to me."

"But aren't I used?" She whimpers.

Lando's hand reaches around her front to play with her clit. His large nimble fingers send shockwaves through her body.

"You are not 'used goods' baby." Lando says into her skin. His warm breath sticks to her shoulder. "We love you. We're keeping you. Fuck anyone who says shot like that."

To say she's gushing at this point is an understatement, despite that fact Oscar decideds lube is a smart idea. Now she's even more wet and sticky that she was with just her own self made lubricant.

Oscar takes it incredibly slow. To slow for her liking. But the second he's sliding into her, the friction with Lando, the stretch and positioning of everything. Yeah - it hurts.

Her teeth sink into Oscar's shoulder. Lando's hand is caressing her cheek and wiping away the stray tears that slip down the sides of her face.

It is ridiculous, really, the situation she's in right now. But she can't think as Oscar is cooing praises in her ear and Lando is meticulously puting his hands on her.

They spiral quickly after that. The tension that was in Oscar's shoulders releases as he is finally able to take what he needs. Lando has decended into a mess of moans and thrusting hips.

She is completely at their mercy. A mess of movment. The symphonic melodies of their voices fill the space of the bedroom. Hot breaths stick to her skin over the already present layer of sweat.

The ache in her bones and coil in her stomach rapidly approach a breaking point. She can't even warn them as everything in her snaps and leave her body a flailing mess. The two boys stutter and sink further into the mattress.

Then a silence. An amazing thread connecting all three bodies together.

They stay like that for the next ten minutes. Unmoving. Listening to the sounds of breathing and heartbeats.

"That was eventful."

"No kidding."

"Sorry if I was to rough."

All of them laugh. "Maybe you should apoligize to the guy at the club."

Oscar pulls out slowly, and then Lando lifts her gently off him. Then they actually collapse. Arms outstretched to hold each other close. "We need to clean up."

"We also need to look at your knuckles, Osc."

"I still can't believe you punched him."

Oscar rolls his eyes. "Well it ended well didn't it? I don't hear you complaining."

"Remind me to never challenge you again."

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matan4il · 2 months

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Daily update post:

Bibi Netanyahu has now officially said that Israel has killed Hamas' 4th most crucial senior. The top 4 Hamas terrorists are, by Israel's order: Yahya Sinwar (#1), the leader in Gaza, Mohammed Deif (#2), the military leader of Hamas in Gaza, Marwan Issa (#3), Deif's second in command, and Saleh al-Arouri (#4), the military leader of Hamas outside of Gaza and the deputy of Hamas' "political bureau."

We already had reason to think Israel was behind al-Arouri's death, after the Oct 7 massacre (on Jan 2), but now it's confirmed. Bibi's admission comes while everyone's still trying to understand whether Israel has managed to kill Hamas' 3rd most crucial senior, Marwan Issa, on the night between this Saturday and sunday. So far, Hamas is trying to provide proof he's alive, but apparently there's been no contact with him since Israel's strike. If he has been killed, that would make the other two Hamas seniors in Gaza, Sinwar and Deif, far more afraid for their lives, and maybe more willing to show flexibility in releasing the Israeli hostages to save themselves.

Italy has arrested 3 Palestinians for their intent to carry out terrorist attacks. The attacks were meant to be carried out on what Italy referred to as, "foreign soil," Israel is asking for the extradition of at least one. The three were living in Italy for years based on humanitarian visas. They're said to be a part of the al-Aqsa Martyrs' Brigades. For those who don't know, this was a terrorist organization that was originally receiving orders and funding from Fatah, the ruling party of the Palestinian Authority, but today it has splintered into separate cells, some still affiliated with Fatah, some operating independently, and some linked to Lebanese terrorist organization Hezbollah. They've been defined by the European Union (which Italy as a part of) as a terrorist organization since 2023. At least some of the al-Aqsa Martyrs' Brigades participated in the Oct 7 massacre.

At the Oscars, a director hijacked his own "cerebral" Holocaust movie in order to make a political point, in which he denounced hijacking the Holocaust for political purposes, right before dedicating his reward to a non-Jew (who, as an actual ally to Jews, might not have wanted his dedication anyway, but we'll never know, since she died in 2017. Yep, he hijacked her memory as well for his political message). I just want to share the Oscar winning speech of a Jewish Holocaust survivor and movie producer, who never forgot that when you make movies about this horrific time, it should be first and foremost about remembering the victims. Branko Lustig then dedicated his Oscar for Schindler's List to the Jewish people, by donating it to the Israeli institute of Yad Vashem, the one country in the world where people's access to the memory of the Holocaust will never depend on the good will of a non-Jewish majority. You can see the award when you visit our viewing center, where you can watch tens of thousands of Holocaust survivors' testimonies, and listen to their own voices.

Here's a reminder that most of the Jews who were murdered in or survived the Holocaust, were Zionist, and it's wrong to erase their voices, it's wrong to ignore the survivors who were killed, kidnapped or otherwise victimized by Hamas on Oct 7, it's wrong to ignore that they are still targeted by these terrorists simply for being Jews, and it's wrong to throw them under the bus in a hypocritical speech, which reverses who were the first ones to be de-humanized in this conflict, when they erased our Jewish historical connection to the land, our native right to live in it, our efforts to make peace with the Arabs, and the fact that anti-Jewish violence in Israel preceded by decades the existence of the Jewish state. The violence of Oct 7, of the biggest massacre of Jews since the Holocaust, is a direct result of decades of antisemitic de-humanization of Jews before the conflict even had two sides, and no one has a right to ignore that, or hijack the memory of the Holocaust to do it.

I wrote about Canada, and now Sweden is also resuming its funding of UNRWA, and the European Union is also releasing 50 million Euros (over 54.6 million dollars) for UNRWA funding, despite the fact that nothing has actually been done about the symbiosis between UNRWA and Palestinian terrorism. I have zero faith in the UN self-investigation of its own agency, but not even that has been concluded. By starting the funding again without taking even a single measure to make sure that their money isn't going to anti-Jewish terrorism, these countries are sending a CLEAR message that they do not care about the lives of Israelis and Jews. The idea that they have to, because otherwise how would Palestinians get humanitarian aid, is a fig leaf they're hiding behind. Already, I heard one journalist mention that over 50% of the humanitarian aid is being distributed in Gaza by organizations that are not UNRWA, but more than that, in places which had suffered much worse humanitairan crises, and where the UN had no unique local agency (which is everywhere outside the one conflict involving a Jewish state), the UN has never had trouble establishing temporary aid infrastructure. They had no need for an agency operating in that locale for so long, that it has become a party to the conflict. So why is Gaza different!? Why do the lives of Jews and Israelis not matter enough to search for solutions, proven to have worked before, other than funding a terrorist-embedded organization?

Today is the first day of Ramadan in the Islamic year of 1445. Today I wanna wish a Ramadan mubarak to all peace loving Muslims, who uphold the true peace loving meaning of Ramadan, but my heart and my wishes especially go out to (left to right in the pics below) 53 years old Yussuf al-Ziadna, his son 22 years old Hamza al-Ziadna, and 53 years old Farchan al-Qaddi, the three Muslim Israeli hostages still in Gazan captivity. May they get to be released soon and observe this month together with their families, in their own home, in the true spirit of this holiday.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

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morningberriesao3 · 2 months

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Guys,

I just hit HALF A MILLION WORDS published on my AO3. It feels surreal?!?!?!? that I wrote that many words, and also a huge accomplishment as someone who picks up hobbies and abandons them before seeing them through LOL

Anyway, huge shoutout to everyone who reads my work, especially those who leave kudos and comments, and those who like and reblog here on tumblr, too. I’ve made a lot of friendships bc of this fandom and fic writing, and it’s been such a fulfilling hobby to fill my free time. (End Oscars speech)

Anyway, below the cut is an excerpt from my most recent fic, Love the Way It Hurts So Deep which is a part 2 to Hate the Way It Feels So Good. I mean, I posted it as a second chapter instead of it’s own fic, but it’s 17K words and was supposed to stand alone initially.

CW: enemies to lovers but they’re ACTUALLY enemies, a lot of dub con content even though i promise they both want what’s happening more than anything, violence, spit kinks, maybe even blood kinks?!?!? idk just think of all the sadist and masochist shit and stuff it into this fic and that’s what it is.

18+ only

For the hundredth time tonight, Eddie trails his eyes over Steve in appreciation. But his soul is shining through his irises again, and there’s something else hiding inside of him that Steve can’t put his finger on. “You gonna tell me who put their hands on you now?”

“No.” Steve shakes out his fuzzy head, tries to push through the fog inside of it. “I mean, you don’t know them. Seriously.”

“Them?”

Steve stares into Eddie’s face as his features crumple within it. A million different emotions flutter on it, but it ultimately lands on something that looks like outrage.

“They won’t bother me again,” Steve says, because he has the urge to calm Eddie down. Make him feel better—even though he wasn’t the one who was tortured in a secret Russian base. His words seem to work, just a little, as Eddie bites back whatever it was he was going to say, and starts to pull his boxers back off. “Why? Are you jealous?”

Steve snaps his lips shut a little too late, the question falling out of him before he has the chance to realize he doesn’t really want to ask it.

Eddie pauses for a few long seconds, his boxers shoved halfway down his thighs. His eyes tick up to Steve’s, rimmed in wide white, making them seem too large for his face. “Yes, Steve, I’m jealous.”

It sounds like sarcasm.

He kicks off his shorts, his hands rubbing the tight skin under his navel, then the patch of hair that Steve wants to bury himself in, then down to his balls. His fingers wrap around them, give them a tug.

Steve stares unabashed—he figures Eddie’s doing it for his sake, anyway. Touching himself—putting himself on display—so he can watch the way Steve turns dumb and the way his cock leaks against his abdomen. Proof that he’s too wildly affected by just Eddie’s presence, just the visuals, just the thought of their bodies rolling together.

His lips get loose again, like the Truth Serum is back in his system. “Because you care about me?”

The muscles feather on Eddie’s jawline. He slowly crawls onto the bed, between Steve’s legs. He hovers there, not quite low enough for their bodies to touch the way Steve wants, but his hair fans around the sides of Steve’s face as he cranes his neck down.

“Because I fucking hate you.” Eddie’s hand is suddenly around Steve’s neck, squeezing against his airways tight enough that Steve’s grip flounders against the blankets, enough that he gasps in shock, but also for the air that is evading him. “You made my life a living hell, Harrington. I’m jealous because I should have been the one to make you bleed.”

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onceuponastory · 20 days

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raindrops on windows - court gentry x reader

Plot: In the aftermath of another agent's betrayal. Y/N and Court rethink their feelings for one another. Pairing: Court Gentry/Sierra Six x Agent!Female!Reader Warnings: Mentions of death/reader almost dying, violence (nothing graphic though), reader and Court doubting themselves and their feelings. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know! Notes: I swear I've been listening to Ryan singing I'm Just Ken at the Oscars on repeat since it happened, so it somehow led to...this. But I also missed writing for Court :)

Not beta'd, so any mistakes are my own.

Apart from the rain pelting down outside. Y/N rests her head on the window, watching as the raindrops race each other down the window. She’s only just calmed down after the horrible events of the night, since she came face to face with death. Sniffling, she rubs her eyes.

How could she have been so stupid?

How could she not have known?

“You alright?” Court’s husky voice asks as he gets in beside her, the sound making her jump. “Shit, sorry.”

“It’s okay. And yeah, I’m fine.” She lies. He raises a brow.

“You know I can tell when you’re lying.” Dammit. He’s good. Court sighs. “You almost got killed by a double agent tonight, Y/N. Nobody expects you to be fine. You don’t need to pretend, least of all to me.” Usually, Court teases her about how he knows her better than anyone. Most of the time, it’s about his constant snarky and sarcastic comments at her expense, and how much he knows she likes them, despite her insisting otherwise.

But this time… she notices there isn’t any snark or a sarcastic comment building.

No. Court Gentry genuinely cares about her feelings for the first time in well… forever.

“I know. I don’t need the reminder.” She snaps, a little harsher than intended. Each time she closes her eyes, the agent’s face looms, poised to take her life. At the last second, Court came in and rescued her, beating the agent to a pulp. She owes her life to him, yet here she is, snapping at him when he’s being nice to her for once. “Shit, sorry, just…. It’s been a horrible night.” She sighs, and Court nods.

“It’s alright.” He smiles.

“No, it’s not. If it weren't for you, I would have been killed. You really saved my ass, and I should be more grateful.” Y/N sighs. “So, thank you for saving my life. Really.” He cracks a grin at that, one which drives her crazy.

“Let me take you home.” He suggests, and she nods, glad to not be alone right now. Although there’s not really another alternative, save for Court dragging her back to the car the second she tries to leave. So, the drive continues in silence. Court glances at Y/N every so often, concern filling his gut. This isn’t what he’s supposed to do. Care for someone else. Or at least, it’s not what Court does. He works alone, he always has. He can’t let anyone else into his life.

Especially not Y/N. The agent he just loves to tease, the one he frequently snarks at. And the one who snarks right back at him, too.

The one he’s so irrevocably in love with. Honestly, he probably has been in love with her for a long time, but tonight was the first time he actually realised it.

When he found out she was in danger, he almost ripped the door to the warehouse off its hinges to get to her in time. That agent was lucky the others got to him before Court. Because Court would have killed him for daring to hurt a hair on Y/N's head. Honestly, he’d burn the world down for her, and she doesn’t even know it.

But he’s always such a pain in the ass to her, annoying her when she’s just trying to do her job. If he told her the truth, how much he loves her… she’d probably just think it’s a joke, or tell him to fuck off. And maybe he deserves it, after the shit he’s been through in this life. Another bad thing to add to the many he’s already experienced. He glances over at Y/N, who's still avoiding his gaze.

Yet, he saved Y/N. That’s one good thing he’s done.

In fact, in Court’s eyes… That's the best thing he’s ever done.

“It’s not your fault.” He murmurs. Y/N shakes her head, not even looking at him, still watching the raindrops as they batter the car. He hates seeing her like this. Usually, she’s so outgoing, ready to take his sarcastic, witty remarks and fire them right back. He’s never seen her so quiet before, so upset.

And it scares him to death.

“Yes, it is. I worked right next to him. I should’ve seen something was wrong. I could’ve stopped this!” she insists. “I’m smarter than this.” Court shakes his head.

“I met him too, remember? We all did. And none of us spotted him.” He points out. “Stop beating yourself up. Please.” His voice carries a hint of begging, an urging she’s never experienced from him before. It’s strange, realising he cares so much about her. But…she likes it.

“I’ll…I’ll try not to.” She says, and Court nods, going back to driving. Y/N looks over at him. He’s focused on the car in front of them at the stop sign, so he doesn’t notice her staring. The street lights illuminate him slightly, and her breath catches in her throat.

God, he's so handsome.

The silence continues, but this time, it’s more awkward, with each person suddenly realising that the feelings they hid for so long, the ones they ignored, might actually mean something different. Y/N gulps. What would happen, if she laid her heart on the line, admitted that she might be falling for the Sierra Six himself? She opens her mouth, wanting to speak.

“I think you should take some time off for a while.” Court says.

“Yeah, but-”

“No buts.” He cuts her off. Y/N sighs, deciding it’s best to stay quiet than argue with Court.

And besides, if she does, she doesn’t trust herself not to admit that she might be falling in love with him. And that’s not a chance she’s prepared to take, to admit everything. After all, maybe she only feels that way because he saved her life? Surely she doesn’t actually love him…

Yet, she can’t ignore the way her heart twinges when she thinks that.

Court soon pulls up outside her apartment, turning to say goodbye. In an instant, the scent of Court’s cologne, mixed with his sweat, hits her nostrils as he leans in closer, and it sends her senses ablaze. “Think you’ll be alright? Want me to walk you inside?” He asks, his voice husky. Y/N’s cheeks heat up. Court raises a brow at her, something else that sends her heart into a frenzy. “Hm?” He asks.

“Y-Yeah. I’ll be okay.” She murmurs. “Thanks again.” He looks her up and down, and she gulps. Now her heart is beating so much she swears it could break free from her chest.

Just tell him. What’s the worst that could happen?

Everything could crash down around you. That’s what.

“Night Court.” She murmurs. For a moment, his face falls. But before she can dwell on it, wonder if it’s because of her and if he feels the same way about her, his smile is back, and he nods.

“Night Y/N.” Y/N reaches for her door handle. A strange feeling builds in her gut, as if she wants him to tell her to stay. But she pushes it down and opens her door, stepping out into the night. With one last wave, he drives away.

And Y/N is alone.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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#court gentry x y/n #court gentry x reader #court gentry #sierra six x y/n #sierra six x you #sierra six x reader #sierra six #the gray man fanfic #the gray man #the gray man fanfiction #the grey man #fanfiction #fanfic #fic

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skayafair · 2 months

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John, Lies and Trust, and the Dark World Pt.4

Part 3

After the Dark World

First and foremost I'll note one thing.

The way Kayne put it, one could think John rolled all the way back to how he used to be as the King completely.

Except we KNOW for a fact that it couldn't be farther from the truth. John didn't argue because he was drowning in guilt as is, both for the deal and all that happened because of them coming to NY (Oscar and Noel included).

But the way he appeared in s3. Gods. He was SHAKEN to his core. By the fact that Arthur was in danger and in the process of being thrown into another fucking pit again, by how happy Arthur was to meet him, but also - how Arthur seemed to abandon his own moral principles and had no problems with committing everything he used to berate John for.

I said the fact that John kept his promise to never forget Arthur was important. That's one of the reasons why and how. I believe he kept the memory of his friend, how Arthur strived to be a better man and help those in need whenever he could. Arthur's image was his moral compass and his lighthouse in the Dark World yes this is the "Faroe is Arthur's guiding light and is reminiscent of "pharos", the lighthouse" reference, the only blueprint of how to be human and not fall back into being a monster completely.

How should it have felt to see this very lighthouse to crumble to pieces the moment they met again.

What makes me think John didn't fall back to his old ways as much as Kayne wanted to paint it is the fact that initially John was shocked at everything going on with Arthur and around them. All the deaths, the violence... everything he hoped he escaped returning to his guiding light was right there, before his eys again.

And if Arthur was only a vessel to deliver to the Stone and John didn't care about Arthur himself, John would have approved of all he saw, actually. Arthur was in survival mode. He could have succeded in killing Larson, John knew as much, they dealt with worse. And he wouldn't have risked his life saving others. Arthur didn't intend to. It was the easiest thing to convince him to just follow Larson to New York after they got out of the mines, and just like that the deal would have been fulfilled.

But no.

John couldn't help not only being shocked and disgusted with what he witnessed, but also telling Arthur all he thought about it. He couldn't help it. Excuse me if I'm wrong, but one can't genuinely be this way one moment and a totally different, say, a few hours or even days before. It's involuntary, inherent to the personality. Fuck you, Kayne, you failed at bringing John down as far as you wanted to.

Later John recollects himself and what he did by all the lecturing catches up to him, so he tries to correct the situation as much as possible to keep Arthur from throwing himself into another extreme (still fully suicidal and feral but for the sake of others this time). But the first reaction is more important here.

Besides, even later he theoretically (since we know John's shit at this) could have tried to manipulate Arthur into not risking their lives by dealing with the mines monster, buuuut... he chose not to. Several times there were high chances they would simply die, but he went along with it. Because that's the way they both are, and abandoning these principles would have meant abandoning himself as well, which makes the idea of living meaningless by the definition.

By the way, I'm not trying to whitewash any of John's actions during s3 and 4. He did manipulate Arthur quite a lot and that's bad in on itself. Yet... he lied only when he would have had to tell about the deal otherwise - and when it came to Oscar. Wow this whole Oscar situation really got to John didn't it. THAT'S when he sank really low, worse than any other time actually, since I don't recall him trying to trick Arthur into killing anyone before.

And the manupulation itself... I'm sorry, it was even worse than in the very beginning. It was so easy to tell when he was earnest and when he tried to push Arthur's buttons, like calling to his ideals with following the Order to NY to save its potential future victims, or "killing Larson would mean we won't know how to find the stone" in the finale. So obvious. I'm not sure if it was on purpose, to give Arthur more hints that "hey friend I'm not happy about doing this but the choice is scarce, I can't be direct about it but be cautious", or he's genuinely this bad at it because he doesn't like it. Let's agree it's 50/50, I guess :'D

Also about his uneasiness with killing Larson and Yellow along with him. I'm sad to tell it was only out of John's wish to survive, not because he was sympathetic with Yellow :') He was postponing the explanation for sooo long. I guess the weight of his guilt because of the deal (which was stricken to save himself) was too much already to admit this one more thing. Was John ashamed of this? Is that why he saved a perfectly sensible reason not to kill Larson&Yellow Arthur would have totally taken into consideration? Why he had to invent another explanation? Poor John </3

#malevolent podcast #malevolent spoilers #john malevolent #john doe malevolent

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sylvienerevarine · 2 months

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The Basis of Optimism is Sheer Terror: A Sylvieverse Short

(the title is an Oscar Wilde quote, in keeping with the rest of my Mephala's Thrice-Damned Web shorts. I'll add this on AO3 at some point)

My thought process on this one was "what if Ulfric and Sophrine had a pleasant interaction for once" and then I started reading @thequeenofthewinter's lovely Ulfric story and couldn't resist adding in her character Dahlia. I guess in this universe Dahlia's not the dragonborn, but she is STILL a relatable queen.

---

The clock on the wall was ticking so loudly Sophrine’s ears were ringing–or so it felt, anyway, as she and the Jarl of Windhelm stared at one another from across the low stone table. Said table was covered in trays of pastries and a surprisingly nice tea set, but it didn’t seem any less like a war room.

“So,” she said at last.

“So,” Ulfric repeated. “I…appreciate you coming.”

Sophrine doubted this very much. “I was surprised to receive your invitation, I have to say. The last time I was here you very firmly kicked me out.”

Ulfric’s eyes narrowed. “You threatened to breathe fire at me, Miss Aulette. A man in my position cannot be too cautious, something I should think that you would understand…”

“Breathe, dear,” advised the pretty dark-haired woman at his side. She was Ulfric’s new wife, Sophrine knew, a local woman named Dahlia. Elegant as she was, the way she carried herself made it clear she was no stranger to battle. She was some years younger than her husband, yet he seemed almost to defer to her.

“We agreed,” Dahlia went on, “that this would be a friendly meeting. It’s no good for the Jarl of Windhelm and the Last Dragonborn to be bitter enemies, you’ll end up Shouting the entire country to pieces.”

Ulfric sniffed. “I can be friendly, if she can.”

Sophrine racked her brains for friendly topics of conversation, ones that wouldn’t result in violence. In the end, she settled on the one thing she knew the two had in common. “You also studied with the Greybeards, didn’t you?”

“I did, in fact,” Ulfric replied, looking relieved. “For nearly ten years. Sometimes I regret not staying, but I was never suited for the life of a monk.”

Dahlia snickered and elbowed her husband fondly. “He certainly isn’t.”

Didn’t want to know that. “I wish I could have spent a longer time there myself,” said Sophrine. “There was always just so much going on, not to mention my husband and children… but it’s a special place, High Hrothgar.”

“I suppose, with your inherent abilities, your training was more efficient than mine. I could never tell if I progressed slowly because of my own failings, or because those old men couldn’t be bothered to move any faster.” He chuckled. “Does Arngeir still take three hours to drink a single cup of tea?”

Sophrine laughed. “Yes! And it always gets cold halfway through, and he just keeps on sipping, completely focused. I can tolerate freezing cold mountaintops and slaying dragons, but I’ll never be enlightened enough to tolerate cold tea.” She frowned as a thought hit her. “All those years you were studying at High Hrothgar, did you ever meet Paarthurnax?”

“No, I never did. Novices like me weren’t allowed near the fellow. Except, I suppose, a Dragonborn.” Ulfric took a sip of tea and looked at Sophrine piercingly. “What was he like, then? I suppose he’d have to be ancient by now.”

“Well,” said Sophrine, not quite sure how to start. “Yes, he’s quite old. Also a dragon.”

“He’s what?” Dahlia all but shrieked, the pastry in her hand falling with a splat. “As in, an actual dragon?”

The Jarl crossed his arms sternly. “If this is one of your famously terrible jokes, Miss Aulette…”

“First of all, it’s very flattering that my jokes are famous. Second, I’m not lying, I swear. Paarthurnax is as draconic as they come. Wings, scales, horns, the works. You really didn’t know?”

“How could I have? If there’s one thing those old monks can do, it’s keep a secret. I wish…” Ulfric looked, almost wistfully, at a spot above Sophrine’s head.

Dahlia gently patted his arm. “Maybe it’s not too late, Ulfy. Perhaps, after all that’s happened, the Greybeards would allow you to speak to Paarthurnax. Perhaps our new friend has some influence there?” She cast a hopeful glance at Sophrine, who was trying hard not to giggle at Ulfy.

“I might be willing to help,” she said lightly. “Though, of course, I’d need something in return. Shall we say another friendly meeting? Between you, me, and some of the spokespeople from the Grey Quarter? I think it’s high time we addressed that situation.”

Ulfric groaned, glanced at his wife–who nodded encouragingly–and looked back at Sophrine.

“Fine,” he said gruffly. “But I’m not touching that swill they call sujamma.”

#ulfy #my writing #skyrim #oc: sophrine #ulfric stormcloak

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i-didnt-do-1t · 8 months

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The one where Katherine follows the Delanceys’ down to the basement.

cw: threat of violence

The door to the basement slammed closed behind him, and Oscar wasn’t expecting a hit to land across his cheek as he stepped out into the hall.

It wasn’t a hard one, nothing compared to the backhands from Snyder or da, but enough to send his head sideways at the unexpected nature of it, enough for it to sting.

Immediately on guard out of the corner of his eye he caught movement again and caught the wrist in a harsh grip before the second hit could land.

When he looked at her, Katherine Pulitzer didn’t look back. Her gaze instead fixed on his bruising red knuckles circling her arm.

“What did you do to him?” She asked and her voice was hard, all sharp edges, and she didn’t seem afraid of Oscar either, not in the way she should be, and the realisation felt like pin pricks in his skin still buzzing from the adrenaline of beating on Kelly. So he tightened his grip, working against the logical part of his brain that told him it wasn’t in his best interests to rough up Joseph Pulitzer’s daughter and jerked her arm to the side forcing her forward.

“Only what your father paid us to.”

“Clearly money matters to you more than your morals.”

“Yeah, I can’t imagine money is anythin’ that you’ve ever had to worry about.”

It was only at the vitriol in his voice that she attempted to pull her arm away from him. Instead he tightened his fingers, his knuckles aching at the movement.

He could feel Morris at his side, feel his stare, something akin to a glare but nothing enough to make him stop yet.

“There are other ways to gain it than being fists for hire, then beating on kids that are only trying’ to make a living-“

“Okay” Oscar relented. “Maybe there is. But maybe breakin’ Kelly’s hand is more satisfying’.”

He enjoyed the way her eyes widened, the way her jaw tensed with worry.

“You’re both bas-“

He cut over the top of her, loud and sharp and blunt. “-being paid by your father. Who told us we can treat him as we see fit.”

She was biting her tongue. He could tell. She tried to pull away again and he had to stop himself from laughing, almost had to admire her confidence.

“And we ain’t nothin’ next to what Snyder’s gonna do to’him. You gonna go start a fight with him too? Think you can win that one?”

“Let go of me.”

“You hit me first.” He turned to Morris, his too casual grip far too strong for the harsh way she tried to yank herself away again and failed. “What d’you think Morris. Brave little girl reporter ain’t so brave no more.”

“I am not, a little girl.”

“Oh. Course’ not.”

The mocking in his tone was enough to make her expression shift again from worried to angry before it stuck something firmly in the middle.

Oscar didn’t really abide by the whole, you can’t hit girls rule, not that it was something that he’d actually done, but he always thought if someone, anyone, swung first he was going to hit back twice as hard. But Katherine was different, laying a hand on Miss Pulitzer in any way that could leave a bruise all but guaranteed their return to the refuge, if not actual jail.

(but something in him, something that hated his father in a way not dissimilar to how she seemed to resent hers right now, told him she wouldn’t be saying a word. And maybe that was something he could respect.)

It was Morris in the end that lightly kicked his shin.

“Let her be. Door’s locked any way and you got the key. Ain’t like she’ll be getting in.”

And like she’d almost forgot Morris was there, her other hand raised, to try and hit out at them or do something stupid like try and grab the key in Oscar’s pocket he wasn’t sure and they weren’t gonna find out either, because this time in one fluid movement Morris grabbed her other arm.

“Thought you was meant to be smart,” he said, and he just sounded tired. “We can stand here arguing and Kelly can hear every word. You wanna make him worried bout you too on top’ve everything else?”

For a second Katherine was quiet, gaze flicking between the two of them and Oscar wondered what she was seeing. The Delancey brothers, made of the same blood and flesh who shared the same crease in their brows they got from their da. Snyder’s mutt’s from the refuge raised to bite and bare teeth. Oscar and Morris, side by side and back to back, putting money in their pockets and restless with the constant casual background hum of anger.

“You both could’ve helped.” She said eventually, and she pulled her arm from Morris, he let her go, shoving his hands back in his pocket before he came up with a cigarette. “You could’ve helped them.”

And the words felt familiar to Oscar, something similar spat at him one morning. He was right then, and he was right now too.

“Yeah? I help the guy who puts money in my pockets.”

He tightened his grip, only for a couple seconds, only until she winced, the expression near imperceptible, and then he let go. Swallowing down the rest of the anger, restless and pulsing through his blood and his limbs. He needed a drink, or a fight, or to turn around and beat on Kelly a little more.

Instead Morris shoved his shoulder toward the hall door.

He paused before he started walking though, sending once last look at Katherine as she held her arm to her chest and stared after them, frustration and something almost like fear written across her face, but not of them, not for herself.

“When Kelly fucks up his choices you ain’t gonna want to be at the rally Pulitzer,” He said, “Snyder’s men ain’t gonna be as nice as we are, not gonna have no qualms about hittin’ a girl.”

#constantly thinking about a broadway boot a watched a While ago where Kath follows the delanceys to the stairs and reaches out #and they roughly shrug her hand away

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pilichainartandmemes · 2 months

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Malevolent fic - Big Fat Taco

They had reached the terminus, enemies on the plateform and on their tail. His aim cannot be trusted and his eyes stutter at mirages. So down, down, down it goes.

I just think that if you won’t dig into a guy with your bare hands for your apocalypse rock, you don’t deserve it. ;) The idea would't leave me and so here is the result of four intense days of writing before the season four finale comes out later today(well tomorrow in my case). Hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did putting it together!

Warnings: Canon typical violence, gore, non consensual platonic touching, major character death and choking.

Cross posted on AO3

“ I… I think we’ve built enough distance between us and them… Care to explain what I’m supposed to do with this rock now”, panted Arthur leaning against the wall absolutely lost. The faster they got rid of it, the sooner they could leave this blasted place. Because of course Noel had to find out at the worst possible time about John’s past. Of course they lost the bloody gun while escaping the detective and the cultists. Of course Larson found out where Oscar was the same way he did for Daniel and-

“ -thur! Arthur! What is the point of me explaining if you don’t fucking listen? We are going to open a portal. Just like how we dealt with Scratch.”

“ … That’s it," laughed Arthur weakly, "the grand end to the order of the fallen star comes down to throwing a rock into whatever hell we find. Then we hope whatever’s on the other side can’t use it? What if we unleash whatever power is inside the Black Stone? Exactly just like what happened with Scratch!”

“I don’t hear YOU coming up with any ideas! We still need to escape this place and k- clearly many cultists so we might as well… jump in?”

“Jesus fucking christ, John... I didn’t miss taking very literal leaps of faith into the unknown with you.”

“Likewise but with our luck it was a matter of time.”

“Indeed it was. Shame we don’t have the pages but I assume you wouldn’t propose this if you didn’t remember. Am I right, John?”

“Of course I do! Now let me focus… Sed obscuratus nox quaeso mundenetis…”

“Sed obscuratus nox quaeso mundenetis…”

“Impertus meter amicum allundem num.”

“Depli mon faenis de tua quae… quae frequens? No. Frenusculi ? No it wasn’t that either !”

“John! I thought you said you knew the incantation!”

“YES I KNOW IT! Damnit Arthur, you say that as if you don’t forget to keep our eyes open for me every day!”

“Fine! Fine! For both our sakes think quickly!” And yet as he retorted back, Arthur began to calculate their odds. From past experiences those bouts of amnesia seemed temporary so they could still manage to open the portal. However with the delay and more people seeing where the stone went, just a throw would not work. Would the cultists even hesitate at the idea of entering the portal? If those madmen didn’t, they would have to fight for every second. Okay so they needed protection or at least something to keep their opponents at bay.

Tuning out John’s frustrated cusses at the Latin language itself, he patted their bag and pockets. Starting a fire was a last resort and could wait until they had an actual escape window. The bestiary wouldn’t be of help against humans. That left them with their unlucky dagger, regardless of John’s insistence to get rid of it. The weapon wouldn’t win against a gun or more than two cultists. But it was their also very last resort… Should they lose it in the scuffle or…

What if Arthur missed again? It wouldn't be the first time his shoddy aim betrayed them when it mattered the most. They would not have another chance to get the stone and he doubted John would accept retreat after dragging them all the way to New York for it. The moment they lost sight, ha, of the rock was the moment Larson won. They needed a hiding place or at least somewhere the cultists would not think to look into…

“Oh. John no matter what continue trying to remember the spell. I just found the smartest way to get the black stone into the portal! Trust me!”

“- tua quae frenae! FRENAE! It was frenae! Wait... What do you mean smartest?” His friend asked cautiously but he didn’t have enough time to react as Arthur grabbed the rock from their pocket and shoved it down their throat.

Neither John or Arthur’s body were keen on the plan. The Black Stone burnt as he could feel it move past his throat into his… veins? Evidently the cursed object didn’t care for human biology and would go wherever it pleased. If he could just… nudge it towards… THERE!

“Arthur, are you out of your goddamn mind?! Spit it out! Come on!”

“ We’re fine… absolutely fine! Now,” just as he said that a tremor shook their spine and it took all their combined focus to not fall face first, “NOW we don’t have to worry about cultists with deft hands.”

“Do you really think given how we first met him he would stop at taking your life to get his hands on the Black Stone?” His partner growled, and yet beneath it worry laced into his every word.

“Larson? He did hurt many people but it was always through others. Like the butcher or the creature in the mines.” He retorted, confused and wondering not for the first time who scared his friend more than the King or their current enemies.

“Of course! Who else would be after us? This building is crawling, I mean, full of cultists. Surely this kind of... miscreants would have no issue going through us for this artifact.”

“Miscreants… Really, John? Anyway it doesn’t matter!” One more time. If Arthur could ignore the elephant in the room between them one more time, they would actually be fine.

They did not even finish the first sentence of the spell before a shot rang out and a sharp pain took over their right leg. Head and knee promptly were introduced with the wall that would have housed their gate. Shame Larson didn’t account for the headache or John’s yelling before starting to gloat. Another spasm coursed through as he tried to turn around. Its tango with their new wound left the duo a heap of limbs on the floor. Hopefully the view was still better than the wall. The heat that had been building behind their eyes flared and Arthur bit down hard to keep them open, inhaling sharply.

“Well it seems whatever tricks you had in mind backfired in more ways than one. Arthur, did you truly think you waltz your way into my domain unscathed?”

“Oh, yeah! Definitely! But maybe you never went back to Addison? I could always give you a refresher.” He could stall. Get the dagger out, have John could carve the incantation and smear it with blood. Surely they could skip the spoken part that way. Just needed to create a blind spot for them.

Evidently however, unlike Arthur, Larson did see the move coming and stomped on the left half of it. Ignoring his partner’s shouts, he awkwardly flipped on his side. Holding on tight to Larson’s ankle, he sliced at the heel. Shoddy aim and his body complaining every step of the way didn’t leave a deep enough wound. Regardless it was enough for the prick to retreat out of range. Maybe the floor was okay for now as their two functional limbs were split fifty-fifty. Well if you didn’t count the shoulder on the same side getting shot the day before. Speaking of bullets, another lodged itself into the carpet right by his ear as he jolted at the noise and ringing that followed.

“You appear to be the one in need of a reminder of the current situation apparently. Now stop staring at the barrel and tell me where the Black Stone is?”

“For once luck is on our side: Larson didn’t witness your crowning act of idiocy. Keep. Him. Talking! Every bullet in the floor is a bullet that isn’t in our body.”

“Now that’s a bit of a wild guess! Why would little old me have any idea… what that is? I figured I could crash whatever party you had in town, as you know, a payback. It has been… quite a busy week.” Arthur laced that last sentence with all the venom which had piled up over the last few days. It hadn’t even been a full fortnight since the Dreamlands for fuck’s sake.

“Your strange habit of pausing at odd times remains, how queer”, pondered Larson while his enemy attempted to stand again, less graceful about it than a fish on dry land, “I assume you do not need further help emptying your pockets.”

“Listen. Why don’t I smash your head in? Shot you. Step on your hand. THEN you can see how easy it is to focus.”

“I’m afraid I’ll pass the offer…. what is all THIS junk?” Larson asked in disdain as Arthur tried to open the bag with one hand only for the contents to spill out. Fantastic! Turns out he had been holding it upside down!

“The glass, the stone, the mask, the books, the tooth, the coin, the wallet and hooks, the kit of course to help him shave are all in Arthur's bag today. But don’t forget the dagger, the flute, the keys and the lighter that keeps the darkness at bay.” The familiarity of matching a series of notes calmed him down just a little. It didn’t matter that the source of that particular song had been fresh out of a bloodbath.

“What the hell is wrong with you?! Shooting the lock and letting that creature at the crowd to get the stone was genius compared to this. And why did you have to bring him up? Wait- there’s someone coming up around the corner!

“… No matter. Unlike you, I have all night, my wits about me and only friends here.”

“Don’t be so sure about that.”

“Arthur, it’s Noel! He managed to get past our distraction and is holding Larson at gun point. His shoulder seems to be injured. His sleeves are torn with large dents matching the claws of that thing. If we could somehow turn them against each other, there may enough time to run. Or at least get the portal open.”

“Are you sure about this, detective? It would be poor etiquette as Arthur’s plus-one to have him killed.” Replied Larson as if this entire ordeal was nothing more than an argument at the local pub.

“That won’t be a problem. The plan isn’t to arrest him. Dreadful accidents happened with that many candles in smaller establishments. At the same time, testimonies of assault on the treasurer of another sect, maiming and murder have been connected to him.”

Of course John decided that was the right moment to needle his partner about the decision to give his name to the secretary. As if they had anyone else beside Daniel to be introduced to the freemasons. Surely Oscar or his father would vouch for Arthur’s character… at least for some of these accusations. Not that it would amount to much if they didn’t make it out alive. Still he feared being wanted in a big city would make it harder for him to move around the States or to leave them.

“Cults like these prey on people facing hard times and get them to commit atrocities in the name of some big guy above or below. Nobody wants to believe their parent, friend or tenant would choose to be involved in shady stuff. If they can’t look at the evidence, they can bother some PI looking to make ends meet this month.” Noel finished, exhaustion slipping into that last sentence. No doubt the detective had to explain cases like these to clients both in Arkham as a private investigator then as a policeman in New York.

“That’s quite the story you wrote there! Have you ever considered becoming a playwright? Addison may not be a high production stage but you’ll have a captivated crowd and the support of a patron of the arts.” Larson drawled while he slowly drew his gun away from the thief. Although one didn’t need sight to guess he wasn’t about it.

“No thanks. I dealt with enough theater obsessed lemon suckers a few years ago. Then again this crony here is the reason I’m here tonight. Take out those cartridges and kick the weapon away… Jesus, my grandmother would have done better than that.”

“And Wallace is old enough to have met her in her heyday. He just had to throw his daughter at the monsters for that privelege! Clearly he’s the biggest threat here, Charlie. Everything you see at my feet is what I had on me tonight. There is no stupid rock!”

“Oh please, we all saw you leave with it! Would you quit acting like you care about the wellbeing of children anymore than respecting the divine or your elders. If that were true, she would still be here. Your precious little Fa-”

Arthur wasn’t about to let him finish. Compared to the Butcher or the ghoul, Larson was a lightweight. They didn’t need a knife. He would choke the life out of the piece of shit, one-handed if he had to. The monster didn’t get to speak her name.

Someone grabbed for his collar and yanked. He trashed hoping to grab onto his first opponent for stability. Unfortunately their body was acquainted yet again with wall, this time shoulder firsts. The shock didn’t have time to settle in before a punch in the gut had him hitting bedrock.

“Jesus fucking Christ… Do not call me that ever again. As if his highness would tell some guy his grand plan. He stole that name, that voice and is now using it to drag you around wherever he likes. This thing isn’t your friend.”

“You know nothing! You humans act so high and mighty pretending kindness is inherent to living from the very moment of your birth. Care to guess what happened at mine? I was shoved into a hell worse than you could possibly imagine where neither time nor death has meaning. So yes! More often than not I lie rather than put my trust into people who have earnt it. I go for the throat when I feel even a little cornered. Everyone here has done that so stop fucking pretending any of you are gentle souls!” John’s truth burnt and yet his head felt clearer than it had since swallowing that rock. In the trail of that shooting star, Arthur just had to speak it all out loud for the rest of the world to hear. “Besides I can’t even get him to walk into a movie theater and sit still for fifty minutes.”

Nobody else said anything for a long while. Arthur could feel the fever chewing at his brain as they both caught their breaths from having pushed too far their limits. In the rare moment of quiet, he took notice of something familiar. Back with Parker, they had to look inside a freezer for clues and for lack of adequate clothing got forced to take turns. The cold current from back then it crawled the exact same way in the gap between his socks and his pants at his ankles. Out of damning curiosity he reached out and-

“Oops, thank you, totally missed by cue there. You gotta understand, detectives! I was so captivated by all those twists, turns and delightful noises, I got… distracted Man, I am going to miss not knowing the plot ahead of time. With that said, great surprise party everyone!”

“… it’s him”, John all the bravery snuffed out like a candle, “he’s squatting on our left, barefoot like back in the dreamlands. Ah. He’s what happened to our distraction. I can see its iridescent blood shining eerily against the black of his suit. In his hand there is a very large flat bread folded in two. There is so much garniture; you could not it around without half of the ingredients falling off. No it’s more than that. The sauce, a few drops hang by a thread as if they won’t fall unless he wills it.”

“Damn. Someone get an oxygen mask! This guy just wrote a spiel about a big fat taco.”

Without thinking Arthur flung himself in the opposite direction and despite the pain crawled as fast and as far as he could. Suddenly his brain connected the dots on the topic and person John had been avoiding to speak of this past week. Of fucking course it had to be that guy! He rasped out every word of the incantation he could remember, hoping John would follow suit. Unfortunately for them that distance didn’t mean very much I practice as clearly Kayne had no issue reeling them back so close he could feel the entity’s breath on his neck.

“Fuck, I’m sorry Arthur! Don’t say more, I- I can get us out of this!”

“Aww, you didn’t have to wrap up my present like that! At this point it’s not just pretty paper and a bow… I can’t simply tear it up with how much love was put into this.” Singsonged the devil flicking back and forth his prey’s damaged earlobe.

Okay that was way too much: the uncomfortable heat beneath his skin and in his head, John’s apologies as he tried to grab their captor’s attention, the strange texture of the definitely non-human hands. He needed out now!

“How does it feel to be New York’s most wanted catch? You got quite a number hooked, ha! Hooked, get it? It’s the only reason you’re still alive after all!” Kayne asked flipping their body to so the three were face to face, one arm wrapped around their waist and the other holding their chin. Arthur bit down on the ‘hand’.

Everything went white as a chorus of complaints and cheers flooded his ears. Slowly he could make out Parker’s voice questioning his partner’s sanity in taking on that eating competition even with that big of a price at stake. Distant and muffled as if coming from under water or maybe he was the one below the surface. His suit must have been an absolute mess if his loudest detractor was to be believed. Thick black ink, blood or possibly both, dripped heavily and slowly like licorice down his jaw onto the shaky floor of the caboose. The fresh liquid cooled his brain boiled by the black sun. Broken skin was good. Broken skin meant he could break this down one bite at a time. Experimentally he twisted the flesh beneath his teeth and pulled. Yet the other end refused to snap clean. Instead it extended like cheese on pizza. Instinctively he opened his mouth and attempted catch the falling strings with his teeth.

“I know I’m the most special treat but I’m afraid I need your head not twenty leagues in the gutter.” Finger snapped and his jaws snapped down on empty air. His mind flailed around for the right frequency to reconnect with his senses.

“Let’s make a new deal! No stone as long as you don’t let us go. Or I-I take it with Arthur to the Dark World!” John’s weak bargain and threat was met with derisive laughter.

“Now why would I ask for something I already hold in my own hands? No, no, no! I’m going to enjoy this all-in-one King’s cake, hot and cold, treasure hunt. This time you can even call a friend instead the usual back-seaters. Much faster and less chances of cheating if you ask me!” The devil muttered something about being forced to write a C option to A or B conundrum. “Though really I guess it’s fifty-fifty: the other day there was that guy. I knew him from head to toe. Not you two. I see other people. Like I said! Every line of his silly little life! Urgh middle school production level, at best. And still! Still he managed to surprise me!”

Two hands clapped together as if to put a close to that intermission. The next moment Arthur was back on the floor and he didn’t like how his brain almost let out a sigh of relief at that sensation. The less was said, the less fun Kayne would have. Bar was low, even for them, but so was the ground. The devil said something about first tries removing obvious options before driving a hand into their stomach. Arthur shouted, violent shivers rocking his spine as their body fought vainly to twist out of the way on pure reflex. Unfortunately their digestive tract refused to admit defeat and heaved to expel the unknown intruder back up his throat. Shame malevolent entities didn’t care for the laws of physics and thus he was left coughing bile. Some of which came straight back down his throat.

“Now that the dud is out of the way, am I warm or icy?”

“Fuck you!” Arthur spat out.

“Uh… Cold?”

“Well fuck you too, John!”

“Do you think I’m happy about this?! I was the one sewing this shit back up while you took a bloody nap!” His partner snapped, spewing the vitriol at Arthur since he was too afraid to do the same towards Kayne. Sensing aggression would only have his partner push back, John tried to put himself down as the reasonable one. Hilarious if you asked Arthur given they had left sanity back at his office in Arkham. “Shut up and tell me where the stone is. Please!”

“Not three hours ago we walked into this… rat hole because YOU said we couldn’t leave a bloody rock into their hands! Now you’re telling me! That the doomsday device of the week would … Christ… safe in Kayne’s hands?”

“Artie, you’re such a worrier! No truly. Think of it as, hmmm, the battery of Mister Universe’s alarm clock. The grey part is sort of its casing and I like to picture the red one as a fog horn. Really the world popping out of existence is not even part of the equation. I mean do YOU think about all the bugs crushed setting up picnics? Of course you don’t! Hahaha that would be stupid, am I right? Anyyyway it’s time for take two, gentlemen and entities!”

Take two in fact involved exploring his intestines and accidentally popping their appendix like a cherry. Of course the only apology he got was a ‘whoospie-daisy’ and a quip about John being lucky the book didn’t land him there. “I mean what would have happened at the first argument? Sending the guy straight to the hospital cause you exploded on him?! … actually that would be funny to see I should check before waking Daddy up.” Arthur still tried to slap or push back Kayne’s hands. Totally useless of course but it was better than licking boots the way John did. Especially when the devil clearly wasn’t interested in bargaining. He would like to not be the reason the world ended, thank you very much. The third strike at their lungs yielded as many complaints and yet the stone remained missing. While Arthur could still feel Kayne was merely playing, he wasn’t sure how much longer that would last.

“Your train friend – what did he call himself again, the butcher – wasn’t wrong you know? About the music analogies! It’s all about hitting the right keys. A bit of tuning might be needed with how battered this body is though. Hopefully I won’t have to hit the entire board to find my gift. I really, truly, deeply”, and with each word pressing his fingers right into the still fresh bullet wound, “would hate for it to be lost in all the wrapping!”

“Maybe… you’re just… bad at looking…” Wheezed Arthur inbetween coughs. Even as they remained on the floor he was struggling to stay afloat. Their boiling head had apparently decided to keep all the heat for itself instead of sharing. It left him both shivering and sweating bullets enough to turn Larson into swiss cheese had they been actual ammunition.

“Actually you’re right… It is time to call a friend! Let’s get to it, we have candidate number one: Wallace Larson from the quaint little town of Addison, here to retrieve the sacred artifact for the Order of –what was it again – the shooting star? Who cares! And candidate number two, Arthur’s plus-one-turned-nemesis, detective Noel from the New York Police Department! Who will take a shot at retrieving the Black Stone and earn the ultimate mystery price?! I for one cannot wait to find out!” The devil announced loudly before finishing in a false hushed tone. “Candidate number three having yet to manifest himself shall remain anonymous… for now.”

“Absolutely not! I’m not putting my hands in that!” Shouted Larson as if the very scenario was a personal offense to his character. There was a long pause until he threw a retort at… someone? John had said there were only three people in this corridor aside from them both…

“Oh I’ll take a shot, alright.” Noel’s voice derailed his theory that he was the universe’s chew toy tonight in particular. Then Arthur heard several rounds attempt to drown out Kayne’s rising laughter.

“Noooooo! What could poor little old me do against… human ingenuity. And so I die… To our hero’s quick draw and wit! ARGh!” A confused John told his partner about the performance as the devil had dropped to his knees, grasping his torso in overly exaggerated agony then met face first with the floor.

Athur felt it before it happened: the change of pressure in the air, how they were leaving the eye of storm and about to meet the worst of it. He just needed to do one thing right tonight, just one little thing! Turn what little energy he has left past his throat into a shout to run, to live, to save Noel.

“SURPRISE!”

He startled as several party poppers and blowers went off. Blood spattered everywhere. Propping himself self up for that warning proved to have been a mistake as projectiles collided with their chest. Some small and hard but others squishy and much more wet. He went back down with hiss, head swimming as his mind slipped

Down,

Down.

“Fuck. FUCK! Noel! His head! It exploded! It’s all over the floor. Kayne… he… popped out of Noel’s neck. His old body has melted into the carpet. It has left a deep black imprint, the edges fizzling but not catching fire. Larson is throwing up beside the left wall. It’s not just the blood... I can identify… parts. An entire eye landed into our chest earlier! It rolled by our side now. There are also a few teeth lodged into our right shoulder. What I thought were confetti in the air were actually fragments of skin. I’m sorry Arthur. I don’t know… I don’t know how to salvage this.”

No trip to England. No letter to Marie. No night at the movie theater. John’s misshaped hand clutched their chest. Their heart was still beating. It didn’t care for gods, grief or pain. It just was.

“What a blast, am I right?! One down, two to go. UNLESS! Our main attraction wishes to open up at last. The hand you were dealt with was pretty bad but you pulled through! Atta boys! Who cares about the finish line? It’s all about the journeyyyyy! So come on, there’s no need to be a sore loser.”

They couldn’t win. Not by a country mile. But..

It didn’t mean Kayne had to.

“Well, they can’t say I didn’t try. But guess what! It seems the final guest sorted himself out as well… Everyone welcome the prince in rags! The phony few had the patience for! The bastard thrown aside as the once and future king made his return! Our mystery candidate number three! Go on, banana peel. Introduce yourself.”

“I- in yellow.”

“Pretty sure even us folk in the front didn’t catch that. Try again your majesty. Put your whole belly into it!”

“I AM THE KING IN YELLOW!”

“Noooow that wasn’t so hard, was it? One could almost believe all the shaking is from a royal tantrum! Penny for your thoughts on the whereabouts of my lucky charm?”

“Carmichael! Bet me on me!”

“Huh. Kinda already am to be honest… But no. That’s not what you want.”

“If I retrieve the Black Stone, I… can keep the rest of him.”

“NO! Kayne, our deal isn’t broken!” Yelled John desperately trying to lift them both up and prove they were still in the game. “Arthur, please! Just tell him! I can’t- I can’t lose you again.”

“Should have thought about that earlier, turncoat! Regardless this tortilla’s got it baaaaad. Never thought you’d want all thorns English Rose back after what he did to you.”

“I want to win.”

“Oh please! You want him back! Hmmm the irony of YOU coming on top… YES that’s it! Okay! Okay. We’re all ears.”

There was a brief silence as Yellow took a deep calming breath. John whispered at Arthur pleading, promising that a fake wouldn’t have pulled him back from the brink in Addison. At the end of his rope his partner brought her up. Somehow not even that worked. Arthur’s thoughts only concerned the monster just a few feet away. One born out of his grief, his misguided love, his bad temper, his selfishness.

“Arthur has the stone inside him,” and immediately the devil cut in with a sarcastic comment but Yellow continued on, “if you searched the lungs then fingers or toes must be valid options as well. No, limbs are easy to separate from the rest. Too big a risk…”

“That it would. I’m so sorry John! The portal closed on us and your arm with the stone is on the other side! Now that would be anticlimactic.”

“John doesn’t know, the entire time he didn’t fight back against you. That leaves out the left foot. As well as his forearm and…”

Strangely Arthur felt a twinge of pride as Yellow broke down his thought process the way an investigator would. He admitted it was a bit self-centered to assume the entity got it from him in their short time together. Maybe at the end he wanted at least one person to understand his choice, the logic behind it.

The gap between the three of them was closed in seconds. A cool sensation spread across his forehead and desperate for the contact to last he leaned deeper and deeper. Ocean waves scratched at his skin as the seagulls laughed and laughed. Taking turns they dug in. The waters trashed around pulling Arthur under. The birds didn’t care and followed after, their cries now clamored for their prey to stop wriggling around. The best lock in the world would not keep Davy Jones’ loot safe for long against someone with both the right tools and determination.

The moment the foreign fingers scratched against their prize, a flash of lucidity cut through. Arthur curled around the stone so tightly he no longer knew where it ended or where he began. Hooks dug into his soul, prying him closer and closer to the surface. Gold strings fiercely yanked him back towards the abyss. Then as a last resort stitched themselves hastily into the searing patchwork.

“Ding, ding, ding! And we have a winner!”

The slap on his back had Yellow hunching forward, closer to the hands cupping the Black Stone. It throbbed in unison with his own body. Every shadow, every color glistened in a blinding contrast. The very same way Addison had looked that morning after the clouds had parted, leaving only clear skies and the brilliant snow. His heavy breaths were woven into brush strokes painting this vista, one last gift to Arthur before this entity swallowed the entire world. Then he fixed his gaze onto Kayne holding the rock out, waiting for the devil to keep his end of the deal. Everything went sideways and Yellow landed on his ass. It was disorienting as fuck but he felt more at home than he ever did inside Larson’s head. He grazed his fingers across the new scars he was not present for with slight irritation. No matter he would demand the stories later. None seemed to compare to the three from the boat anyway. Wait the boat-

“I give you a ten out of ten. Stellar work truly! So here’s the tip: you remember everything. Honestly I didn’t expect you to be that useful after driving Artie to the brink. Fascinating really how the carrot he had no trouble following after all this time disgusted him when I served it grated. Since he was so difficult I switched to a slightly different brand and you’ll never guess what… He swallowed it hook, line and sinker! Convinced I had indulged his whimsies. It was hilarious!”

His stomach sank as his memories clicked back into place: the office, the hospital, the city under the hotel, the pits, Lily and the sight of Arthur’s dying body falling out of his reach while the King laughed at his naivety. What had followed despite Kayne’s meddling was their own handiwork. It shouldn’t be that much of a surprise considering their argument in front of his mural. The bigger threat was never the creatures they encountered down the line but their own stubbornness.

The stone’s power rose into a crescendo sending shivers down his spine. The corridor twisted from the tension it wasn’t made to withstand. No, even had they been out in the open the artifact would have bent the world in the same way. Slowly his ears began to parse out the melody underneath: a wail accompanied by a piano and the sound of rushing water.

“Oh darling, thar tickles! Looks like Daddy’s clock will have a vibrate option, truly a testimony of human progress don’t you think? Huh. Don’t stare at me like I drowned your goldfish. It’s not MY fault you didn’t account for stowaways before handing it over! Anyway time’s up. Farewell Jonagold!”

He didn’t care about the difference between them, the purpose of the stone or how this was the consequences of everyone’s choices. No one took what was his! Not even the Crawling Chaos itself!

The reason he failed and grasped nothing but empty air was ironic: the pathetic leftover vessel who had refused to get his hands dirty.

How stupid! How shocking! How splendid! His roar of laughter bounced off the walls of the blood-stained corridor. It was a stage equal to the basement of 58 Pelican Lane. However he still had to make his own debut.

The malevolent entity wrapped his hands around the man’s throat

and

squeezed.

#malevolent podcast #malevolent fic #malevolent fanfic #malevolent #arthur lester malevolent #john doe malevolent #malevolent spoilers #malevolent s4 spoilers #fanfiction #fanfic #pili writes #mature #horror

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little-cereal-draws · 2 years

Note

Hello!

Just read you had aspec Moon Knight posts you deleted, after reading you were looking for some aspec Moon Knight fics while I was searching your blog for more fics after I read your voicemails fic (it broke my heart in the most delicious way lol).

Anyway, from what I gathered, you were criticized for these posts and I understand why you deleted them. But as an aroace Moon Knight fan as well, I'd love to read a bit about your ideas!

Would you mind sharing, privately if you want? Like sending me an ask or DM'ing. me.

Again, totally understand if you don't want to.

Have a good day!

Hello! I never actually deleted any posts, just the harassing comments on posts. The existence of those comments just proves why I need to leave them up anyway. No aphobia on my blog! 😤

Anyway, idk how far you went back in my posts, but I have a ton of aspec moon knight stuff because the fandom needs more of it, especially the tumblr fandom. (Like, I get it, people think Oscar Isaac is attractive. I don't need to go into the moon knight tag and instantly get bombarded by hundreds of self-insert smut. Even tho that's what tumblr does... sigh) So, I thought I would make as much aspec content as I could to cater to the ppl who don't want smut constantly on their dash lol

Here's a master list of all of my stuff and some of other people's stuff I've found

My stuff:

Layla x the boys headcanons, I was still too scared to explicitly say they were aroace at this point but there is no romance lol

Steven's love language, just a quick headcanon bc I needed to project a bit lol Not explicitly aspec related but I thought I would include it

Touch Adverse Jake Headcaonons, not explicitly aspec related but I thought I would include it. Goes into his unhealthy relationship w Khonshu a bit

Aroace headcanons for the boys:

Demiromantic and demisexual Marc (has sexual content)

aroace Steven

touch adverse/sex repulsed Jake (has sexual content)

Steven and Layla should be in a qpr, It's literally what I just wrote there lol

Layla's lullaby, A fanart I did right when I finished the show

Going on a Queer Platonic Museum Date with Steven Grant, A self insert for aspec ppl

Moon Boy Playlists, Youtube playlists I made for the boys. Not explicitly aspec related but I did try to include at least one aroace song in each of them; some have more than others. (has sexual content, violence, drugs, self harm, suicidal thoughts, and panic attacks. Most of these topics are on Marc's playlist but are on all of them)

Other people's stuff:

Aromantic Moon Knight icons by @embrace-the-laters-gators

Asexual Moon Knight icons by @embrace-the-laters-gators

Gus pride icons by @embrace-the-laters-gators (includes aro/ace flags but has many different options)

Ace Steven icons by @adhd-orion

Perilune by @pokimoko on ao3, "In which Layla and Marc go to a party and share an important talk, Layla and Steven go on a date under the stars, and Layla and Jake go out for breakfast and come to a realization." (This is literally the best moon knight fic i've ever read, i highly recommend this one. All the boys are aspec and layla is an angel)

Dear Fellow Traveler by WastelandWalkin on ao3 (idk if they're on tumblr. if someone knows, pls tell me), "There are four of them now. Jake Lockley is the first to notice this. Jake Lockley is the first to notice most things." (I haven't actually read this one yet so idk if it's any good, but it's got queerplatonic relationship in the tags)

Aroace Jake headcanons by @tiptapricot

Jake and Layla's relationship headcanons by @mockspector

Aroace Jake headcanons by @mockspector

Bonus:

Aroace Jack Russell by @h0wv3ry

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harrygoeswest · 1 year

Photo

Trigger Warnings: sweary sweary language, bullying

Word count: 12,550

Chapters seven & eight

nine

“You know, that woman is so delusional sometimes.”

I looked at Geri, and then followed her gaze towards Lorraine who was ushering children into the hut for the start of the late kid’s club.

I grunted. “I can think of many, many more words than delusional to describe her.”

“Does one begin with a ‘C’ and end in a ‘T’?”

“Number one on the list actually.”

Geri sniggered. “I thought so.”

“She’s just rude and entitled and needs a smack round the face.”

“Violence is never the answer, Floss.” She teased, wrapping an arm around my waist.

“It should be.”

We watched as Lorraine made her way over to the car park from the hut, me with a much more unwelcoming demeanour than Geri. She kept her distance from me, as she should, but she made such a big deal out of it, feigning a look of terror in order to gain some sympathy from the other parents. I couldn’t tell you what she needed sympathy for, but I’m sure she was going to make it about the little explosion I had the week after Easter.

Debbie rubbed her shoulder as Lorraine passed her by, and everyone kept asking her if she was okay.

“You’ve got to be joking me.” I scoffed.

“You gotta give it to her - she puts on a good show.” Geri muttered, still watching her.

“I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I know you haven’t. She’s up to something.”

Lorraine made it to her car and rummaged around inside the boot for a moment, but quickly locked it back up. Then she started walking towards us.

“Oh no,” Geri said, barely audible.

I squared my shoulders. I didn’t know what she wanted but I was ready for whatever nonsense she was about to come out with.

“Florence,” She started, holding a piece of paper in her hand. She was facing away from the other parents now, so her expression was completely different from the look of terror she’d been acting on seconds before. “This is your final bill.”

My brows furrowed. “What?”

“The final payment you owe me for the morning child care.”

I narrowed my gaze. I knew I was all paid up. I paid in advance, not post-term and I always had done. “I don’t think so.”

She was glaring at me. “I think I know how much you’ve paid, Florence. And it’s not enough.”

“Are you seriously trying to embarrass me in front of the other parents?”

“Not at all, it never even crossed my mind.” Her voice and her face didn’t match.

“Really?” I retorted. “This isn’t just a big show to get the other parents on side and make you feel better about yourself?”

“You sound ridiculous, Florence. How else am I supposed to tell you?”

“In an email? Or on the phone, in a text, literally any other way.”

“I like to tell people in person.” She shrugged.

I snatched the bill from her. “I have paid this and I am going to prove it to you.”

“Well, you have until the end of the week.”

“I’ll do it whenever I fucking like, thank you very much.”

The other waiting parents were muttering between one another now. I knew I probably hadn’t shown myself in a very good light, but I didn’t care. The woman was evil and needed to be knocked down a peg. Or ten.

Lorraine finally stalked off, and the first thing I did was make sure the other parents knew I wasn’t pissing around. Silently. I glared at them.

“What a cunt.” Geri mumbled.

I didn’t say another word until Ruby appeared, with Oscar right behind her.

“Hi Mummy!” She shouted.

“Hi, baby.” I cooed, and stroked a hand over her hair. “Hi, Oscar.”

“Hello Ruby’s mum.”

“How we doing - did we have a good day at school?”

“It was okay. We don’t really like Mondays because we have to do P.E.”

“Oh wow, she’s definitely your child.” Geri laughed.

I smirked. “Shush you.” I said, and turned back to the children. “Are you ready to go? I need to make sure Oscar gets fed before his daddy comes to get him.”

“Yep! We’re ready!”

“You’re looking after the dentist’s kid?” Geri whispered.

“Yeah. Because we can’t send them to the morning club anymore I need to get some time back, and so does Harry. So on Mondays I look after Oscar and on Wednesdays and Thursdays Harry looks after Ruby.”

“Right…” Geri looked suspicious. “I thought you were scared of the dentist?”

I wasn’t sure if she was generalising or if she meant the new sexy dentist specifically. “I am.” It was still true either way. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I loaded the kids up into the car and drove home. The first thing I did inside was turn the oven on, and then I helped Ruby change into some play clothes before I let her and Oscar run riot in the garden before dinner.

Geri’s comment about hating P.E had amused me somewhat, because Ruby actually loved being active when it was all on her terms. As soon as someone else told her she had to do exercise she wasn’t interested. Perhaps because the word ‘exercise’ implied it was more a chore.

I dipped in and out of the garden, keeping an eye on both them and their dinner. Oscar seemed to be such a calm child in comparison to Ruby, who never stopped talking or moving. Oscar simply sat there and did whatever she told him to.

The children ate their dinner quickly, eager to get back outside and play. I gave them choc ices for dessert to cool down, but as per usual they seemed to get more of it around their faces than actually in their mouths. I made sure Oscar wasn’t covered in chocolate by the time his dad came to collect him.

Harry knocked on the door at just gone six o’clock. He was still in his scrubs, head to toe, hair a little scruffy, and for the first time I noticed a stubble on him.

He smiled as soon as he saw me, eyes again drawn to the t-shirt I was wearing. He cocked his head, smirking. “Is it?”

I looked down at myself and laughed when I realised which t-shirt I was wearing. It was grey with the words ‘THIS IS MY DOG WALKING T-SHIRT’ printed on the front. “By the weekend it will be.”

“Getting a dog-,”

I shushed him, panicked. I looked over my shoulder and then pulled the door closed behind me, taking a step outside.

“Ruby doesn’t know yet.” I whispered.

“Oh shit,” he laughed, “sorry.”

“It’s fine. She’s been banging on about it for months but I’ve never agreed to it in words to her.”

“I see. I’m sure she’ll be over the moon.”

“Bloody better be, he’s cost me an arm and a leg.”

Harry continued to smile at me, but I didn’t know what else to say. I felt like an obscure statue in a local park.

“How has Oscar been anyway?”

“Oh right, yeah.” I’m an idiot. “He’s been an angel, actually. He’s so calm.”

I opened the front door again and took a step inside. “Oscar, your dad is here!”

“He is a very placid child.” Harry agreed, hands now shoved into the pockets of his scrubs.

I didn’t know what placid meant. I pretended to. “Yeah, Ruby just orders him around and he does it. Feel like I maybe need to tell her to reel it in.”

“No, she’s fine.” Harry shook his head. “I think he likes it, he’s just happy to have a friend.”

That comment stirred me a little. Did he not have any friends before?

I realised it was rude of me to make Harry wait outside, and I was sure Oscar hadn't heard me. “Let me just go and get him - they’re in the garden. Come in,”

“Oh, thank you.”

I left Harry there while I went out to the garden to find the children. They were still playing, completely oblivious to the world around them.

“Oscar, your daddy is here to take you home.”

“Oh,” Ruby said with a sad pout.

Oscar was already standing and had started making his way towards the house.

“You still get to see him tomorrow, Rubes.” I reminded her.

“I know but it was fun having him here.” She whined, following Oscar.

“And you get to do it again next week. And you’re going to Oscar’s house on Wednesday and Thursday. So you will have lots of occasions like this to come, won’t you?”

She huffed at me. “Yes.”

“Yes. Exactly.”

Harry was still waiting in the hallway, barely having moved. “Hey, little man.” He grinned at the sight of his child.

“Hi, daddy.” Oscar smiled up to him.

“D’you have a good time?”

“I did.”

“Good lad. Say thank you to Ruby and her mum for looking after you, then.”

“Thank you Ruby, thank you Ruby’s mum.”

He was so cute I wanted to burst. “You’re very welcome.”

“Bye Oscar!” Ruby shouted. “Bye Harry!”

“Bye, Ruby.” Harry chuckled. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

We waited for them to reach their car before I closed the door and locked us in. Ruby was standing in the middle of the hall as if she suddenly didn’t know what to do with herself.

“Ready for a bath, poppet?”

She hummed, the sound disconnected.

“Come on then.”

I helped Ruby bathe, though she didn’t play like she normally would. She let me wash her hair and scrub her down, and then she got out. I wrapped her up in a towel and dried her off, plaited her hair and tucked her into bed. A minute later she was asleep.

My house had been turned into a bombsite for Ruby’s party. Not that it was the definition of pristine on a normal day, but even for a small party with close family and a few friends, my mother decided to bring an overkill of food and drink and decorations. I left her to it.

Zara and Mickey had come, with Geri, her husband Owen and Milly. Mum and Dad had been there for hours, Frank and Diane with them. The only people we were waiting for now were Oscar and his dad, and Ruby’s other friend Scarlett.

I knew I was rubbish at hosting but I couldn’t ask Mum and Dad to host a birthday party after everything else they were doing for us, so I bit the bullet, pulled my big girl trousers up and just got on with it. Dad actually ended up answering the door more than I did. I just tried to make sure everyone had enough to drink to keep hydrated before the food came out.

Harry turned up with Oscar just as Mum was arranging all the food on the table. Of course they were the only people I actually answered the door to.

“Hello, welcome!” I tried to put on my best happy and excited voice, even though I was sure I sounded constipated.

“Hi, thank you.” Harry smiled, nudging Oscar in first. “Go on, mate.”

“Everyone is in the garden, you’re just in time for food.”

I walked through the house after them to make sure they went the right way, not that there was much room to get lost in my modest little home.

As soon as Oscar spotted the other children he was off like a shot, leaving Harry and I alone. I felt awkward and didn’t know what to say.

“Decorations are cool.” Harry commented as he gazed around the garden.

I grimaced to myself because I actually hated them. My Colombian mother had set the garden up like a Hawaiian luau (make it make sense!), with inflatable palm trees and flamingos, palm leaf bunting, lei headbands, wristbands and garlands. My dining table looked like a giant hay bale, and there were paper pineapples in every direction but I didn’t know why.

“My mother is to thank for this. I was just gonna give her a tiara and a sash.”

Harry looked at me with a smirk. “The ones she’s wearing now?”

I nodded. “Yep. Drink?”

“Love one.”

I helped Harry find a non-alcoholic beverage, sourcing one for myself too.

Mum had gone all out on the Colombian niceties, including Lulada - a smoothie-like drink which was notoriously hard to come by in this country.

“Floss,” she hurried over to me with a tray of cholados, “¿Puedes volver a ponerlos en el congelador? Se derretirán antes de que nadie se los coma.” She asked me to put them back in the freezer before they melted.

“Sí,” I took the tray from her, “las sacaré en 30 minutos más o menos.” I said I’d bring them back out in about half an hour.

“Gracias, mí querida.” Thank you, my darling. She kissed my cheek before I disappeared inside.

I stored them in the freezer in the top drawer and told myself to keep an eye on when everyone was finished with the savoury food before I brought them back again.

Back outside, I grabbed a plate and called for Ruby to come and get something to eat. Oscar was already with his daddy next to me looking over the spread with confused expressions.

“Florence?”

I looked at Harry when he spoke my name.

“Sorry, Floss.” He was obviously getting irritated having to correct himself all the time. “Er, what is everything?”

I bit back a flattered smile. It wasn’t very often I was the one someone went to for information. “Yeah, it’s all Colombian, but it’s actually more normal than it looks. So, the deep-fried things are empanadas, done the Colombian way, with chicken and potato fillings. Next to that in the weird-looking green leaf bags are tamales. They’ve got chicken, pork and peas in them, and the leaf around the outside is a plantain leaf which you can eat. And the bread is pan de bono which is cheese and yuca bread. So, it’s cheesy bread but made with yuca starch, and they are bangin’ when they’re still warm.”

Harry laughed, “Alright.”

“The pitta-looking things are arepas - Mum usually fills them with pulled pork and tomato, and they’ve been grilled on the barbecue. All this meat,” I gestured vaguely to the wide selection of charred meats, “is what we call carne a la llanera, so it’s been slow cooked on a barbecue on, like a tall round spit, and you have it with the steamed potatoes and guacamole. The two big pots are ajiaco and cazuela de mariscos, which are chicken and potato soup and a seafood soup.

“Then for desserts you’ve got cocadas which are like coconut cookies, and obleas which are wafer sandwiches with fruit, nuts, cream and chocolate. I’ve also just put cholados in the freezer which are frozen fruit cups - like a frappe but not.”

“Wow.” Harry nodded, smiling, “okay. Thank you.”

“Any time.” I smiled back.

I filled my plate up and made sure Ruby had done hers, and then went to sit with Geri and Zara while I ate.

“Floss, do you ever regret jilting the dentist?”

I snapped my head in Zara’s direction, glaring at her. “Shut up.” I made sure said dentist wasn’t paying attention before I continued. “No I don’t.”

“Really? You seem to get on so well, it must play on you a little bit.”

“No, it doesn’t. I am fine.”

“So, there’s nothing there?” Geri��s question was inquisitive. “No… flirting or anything like that?”

“We literally just look after each other’s children sometimes. Not that deep.”

The pair of them narrowed their eyes at me. “We shall see.”

I ignored them and carried on eating.

The party continued for a few hours, with Ruby opening her gifts while everyone was still there and the cholados finally being served because I definitely forgot. I disappeared for a little while because I was concerned about the state of the kitchen, but Ruby was left in good hands.

I heard so much while I was in the kitchen. There wasn’t an abundance of couples at this child’s birthday, but 3 out of 4 managed to have an argument in the living room without realising I was only in the room next door.

Zara and Mickey were first, although it was more like bickering than an actual argument. Mickey wanted to leave early for something and Zara kept saying no. I wasn’t necessarily offended that he wanted to leave early. He wasn’t too great friends with anyone here and he didn’t have any children to appreciate a children’s party.

The arguments only really got intense when Geri and Owen started digging at one another.

“Where are you going?” Geri hissed.

I didn’t know whether I should keep going with my tidying or stop entirely so they weren’t interrupted.

“I’m going home, Geri.” Owen said, not concerned with whispering.

“Why? You can’t just leave without saying anything - people will find it strange.”

“People in this village find everything strange if it’s not entirely to their view of normal.”

“I know this. Look at what Floss has had to put up with recently.”

“Floss brings most of her own troubles on herself.”

Ouch.

“Don’t be so archaic, Owen. That’s not fair and you know it.” Geri’s voice came much harsher than before. “You said you wanted to keep up appearances for Milly’s sake, and you leaving in the middle of a party because you’re pissed off with me is not what I would consider keeping up appearances.”

“I just can’t do it. I can’t go around behaving like we’re still happy and in love or whatever when you don’t want me anymore.”

“I still care about you! I’ll always care about you - that doesn’t just go away!”

“Not enough to stay with me!”

“You can’t keep me forced in a marriage this way, Owen!”

“Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you fucking married me!”

I’d heard way more than I should’ve, but I couldn’t start making noises now, one of them might kill me. I bit my lip and continued standing still in the middle of the room in silence. I had a wet pan in my hands and it was dripping onto the floor. I started drying it with a tea towel as quietly as possible.

After a painful period of silence, Geri finally sighed. “Go home, then. I’ll make up some shitty excuse as to why you’ve fucked off without saying anything.”

“Maybe you should tell everyone the truth. We are in this stupid mess because of you in the first place.”

“I wouldn’t want to deny you the pleasure of telling everyone yourself how evil I am.”

“I will never take any pleasure in telling people that my wife is leaving me. Especially not for a woman. It’s embarrassing.”

“You’re only embarrassed because it emasculates you. Get your head out your arse.”

A second later the front door slammed, and I flinched. I heard Geri’s footsteps disappear back outside. I went back to cleaning up my kitchen with tense shoulders and tinnitus.

Frank and Diane were next, although I had no interest as to what they were arguing about, nor did I care whether they could hear me or not. I did the washing up as loudly as I pleased.

Whatever the two of them were arguing about didn’t last very long, and Diane went back to the garden to enjoy the remainder of Ruby’s afternoon. Frank, however, obviously couldn’t help himself.

The door creaked when he opened it. “What’re you hiding in here for, Florence?”

“I’m not hiding.” I retorted, refusing to look at him.

Frank made a sceptical sound, but I knew it was a farce. The man’s entire life was a farce. He started picking at the leftover food on the counter. “This is all lovely but I do miss a good sausage roll and pork pie.”

I took a deep breath. “Bring your own next time, then.”

“Oh, no - I could never insult your mother like that.”

“But you’ll do it behind her back?”

I could feel Frank’s eyes burning the back of my head. “I’m just saying… We English people like to eat English food.”

I’d paused in doing the washing up, too angry to speak. I clenched my fist around the sponge, dishwater pouring out of it over my pruning hand.

“I don’t mean to offend you, Florence.”

“Really?” I scoffed. “Because you’re doing an excellent job of it.”

“Don’t be like that.”

I threw the sponge into the sink and turned a glare on him. “In future, if you don’t like the food my mother pours herself into for hours on end, don’t fucking come.”

He shushed me, that smarmy look on his face again, and he placed his hands on my waist.

I felt sick.

“Calm down, I didn’t mean to upset you. I was just airing my thoughts. I love Daniela’s food - always have.”

“Please take your hands off me.”

“Florence, come on,”

“Floss.” I corrected him through gritted teeth, trying to move away from him.

He laughed at me. “What’s got you so wound up today, aye?” He started stroking my sides.

“Lo juro por Dios, si no me quitas las manos de encima te castro.” I threatened to cut his dick off if he didn’t stop touching me.

Someone cleared their throat and knocked on the kitchen door. Frank took a frantic step back, and I could feel my face burning.

Harry was standing just outside the door, with Oscar and Ruby playing just behind him. He looked a little pale in the face, expression unreadable. “Sorry to interrupt,”

“No, no,” Frank raised his hands, “you’re fine, young man. I was just heading back out anyway - you carry on.”

I couldn’t help but notice the subtle glare on Harry’s face as he watched Frank leave the room. I was already gawking at him when he met my gaze again.

“I, um, just wanted to let you know that we’re gonna head off, if you don’t mind?”

“Oh,” I shook my head, “of course not. Um, did you both have a good time?”

“I did.” Harry smiled, though it wasn’t quite as genuine as I’d seen before. “Oscar, have you had a good time?”

Oscar stopped whatever it was he was doing with Ruby and peered up at me. “Yes, thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” I smiled back at him.

Harry stroked a hand over his son’s floppy curls. “Ready to go?”

Oscar silently nodded.

Ruby and I walked the dentist and his son to the door and waited for them to safely get into their car and drive off, waving at them the whole time like those Chinese cat statues with the funny arms.

“Having a good day, poppet?”

Ruby stood right in front of me, her head craned to look up at me with the biggest smile. “Yes, thank you, Mummy.”

“Good girl. We’ll have a nice day tomorrow as well, just me, you and niñera y abuelo, sí?”

“¡Sí!” She shouted back, and opened her arms wide.

I giggled, leaning down to pick her up around her middle. She clung to me like a koala did a tree - her arms around my shoulders and her legs hooked behind my back. I pecked her nose and her cheek, and she did the same right back to me.

“Te amo, Mamá.” I love you, Mummy.

I hummed loudly with the proudest grin on my face. I loved hearing her speak Spanish. “Yo también te amo, querida.” I love you too, darling.

Early on Sunday morning, I pulled everything for the puppy’s arrival out of the shed in the back garden and set it up in the living room. Dad was already on his way back from Wisbech with the puppy in tow, apparently fast asleep in the front passenger seat.

I’d bought a penn for him because I couldn’t have him running riot around the whole house in the middle of the night, and I wasn’t particularly keen on having him in bed with me or Ruby.

I had to be as quiet as possible because I desperately didn’t want Ruby to wake up before Dad arrived with him, otherwise it would ruin the whole surprise. I made sure everything was ready for the dog, and then I started decorating the living room with more age appropriate decorations than the lual nonsense from yesterday. I’d bought a big pink foil balloon shaped like a number 6 yesterday before her party, and I was pleased to see it had managed to last overnight.

Mum and Dad turned up just after 8 o’clock, which was lucky because I was starting to worry Ruby would’ve been awake 2 hours before, but I hadn’t heard a peep from her.

I made sure the door didn’t make a sound when it opened, and Dad had the puppy on a short lead so there was no chance of him going on a mad rampage through the house before I got Ruby out of bed. He was keen to look around, so Dad walked him around the house for a bit to get him familiar with his new home. After ten minutes of mooching, I sat with him on the floor to calm him down a little.

“There’s that handsome young man I remember seeing!” I whispered, stroking over his head over and over while he licked up my arms. “You are so beautiful, Ruby’s going to be such a happy little girl today.”

The dog flailed around in my lap, ferociously wagging his tail and grunting with all his excitement.

“Can you do me a favour, mister?” I still spoke to the dog, stroking my hands down the length of his little body in the hopes it would settle him. “I need to go and get Ruby so she can come and meet you, but you need to be really good and really patient while I do. Can you do that?”

The dog ruffed, and I started to get antsy.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes!”

I pecked the top of his head a couple of times, and left him with Dad again while I stood up and brushed myself off.

“Shall I make her some breakfast, Floss?” My mum asked, clearly itching to get in the kitchen.

“She wanted some of the leftover obleas - it’s all in the fridge.”

Daniela nodded. “I’ll get them out and ready - make it look nice and pretty for her.”

I lifted my head slightly, biting away a smirk. “Alright.”

I made my way upstairs, lightly knocking on her bedroom door as I peeked my head in.

Ruby lifted her head up, eyes struggling to open and mouth formed in a little ‘o’.

“Buenos dias, cumpleañera.” I said in my quietest voice.

“Buenos dias, Mummy.” She grinned in a gravelly whisper.

I sat on the edge of her bed, smiling at her pretty little face. I wiped the corners of her eyes where sleep had collected, and then stroked the back of my finger against her soft cheek. “Must’ve needed that sleep, it’s nearly 9 o’clock.”

She nodded, rubbing at her own eyes. “I was tired.”

“Shall we get you some breakfast, then? Grandma and Grandad are waiting downstairs, I think they’re hungry.”

“Okay.”

I helped Ruby out of bed and downstairs, letting her go first. As soon as she walked into the living room, she saw the puppy waiting for her. He was sitting like an angel, and either Mum or Dad had wrapped a ginormous blue bow around him.

Ruby squealed, and the dog yapped excitedly, running straight for her out of Dad’s grip. He leapt into her lap, licking her face and trying to crawl all over her. I’d never seen such joy on her face and it almost brought me to tears. Dad was laughing and Mum kept repeating, “Que preciosa,” how precious and, “Hermosa,” beautiful over and over again.

Eventually the dog got so excited that he started running between everyone else for attention as well, and I did have to say it was joyous to watch.

Ruby immediately came to me once she was able to, and wrapped her arms tightly around me. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“It’s not just me - Grandma and Grandad helped get him too. He’s from all of us.”

She kept saying thank you as she skipped around the room to each of us. “I’m so happy! He’s exactly what I wanted!”

Thank God. I felt like a physical weight had been lifted off me.

“After we’ve all had some breakfast we can take him for a walk.” Dad said, stroking over her hair. “Hopefully it’ll wear him out a bit.”

“Okay!” Ruby grinned.

Seeing my baby that happy was overwhelming. I knew that in that moment, no matter what stress that animal might cause me ever the next few months while he adjusted, it would be worth it to see Ruby constantly delighted like that.

ten

We drove out to the Sherborne Park Estate at around lunchtime, parked up, and began walking. We started easy, far enough that Bongo would exert some energy for when we stopped to eat, but not so much that we’d be carrying him around for the rest of the day.

We walked through the centre of the park first, through the woods and around to the village. In the village we had lunch in the local and always popular tea room, charging up ready for the rest of the afternoon. From the village we did a huge loop, walking east all the way to River Windrush and then following it along to the Watermeadows, and finally back down to the car park through the common and Picardy Copse.

It was a beautiful day for a walk like that, and a beautiful day to celebrate my baby’s birthday with her new best friend.

Bongo was incredibly well-behaved for such a young puppy. People stopped constantly to give him attention, and he lapped it up like any good boy would. He never barked, he never jumped, he never bit, he never growled. He just basked in his new life of being the most popular dog around. In the car on the way back he stretched across the backseat, with his chin resting on Ruby’s knee and his paws poking into my thigh.

I was overly conscious about our nighttime routine with him. While he was so young I wanted him to stay in his penn because I’d read horror stories about sofas being destroyed and fridges being raided. I was desperate for that not to happen.

“Mummy, can he sleep with me in my bed tonight?” Ruby asked in the evening just before I was about to put her to bed. She was sitting at the end of the sofa with the dog in her lap, stroking over the top of his head.

“We need to get him used to his cage, muffin. If we let him sleep wherever he wants to he won’t be disciplined when he’s older and he’ll be too big for that.”

“Oh,” she pouted, a devastated sigh leaving her. She never argued any further.

I went up with her, resting my head on the side of her bed while she talked herself to sleep. Bongo had decided to join us but I wouldn’t let him on the bed, so he sat next to me, ferociously wagging his tail. Once Ruby was safely off, I took the puppy back downstairs with me.

“You’ve had a long day, haven’t you, mate?” I chuckled as he stretched out next me, his chin on my thigh. I stroked him from his head to his back over and over.

I watched TV for a little while longer, but I was tired too and eventually decided to go up early.

I ushered Bongo into the penn, gave him a couple of chin scratches and a peck on the head, and then dropped some biscuits into his bed. Obviously he ate the treats without question, and I made my escape.

Just as I reached the bottom of the stairs, he started whimpering. I stalled, guilted but the sound. My chest tightened and I tried not to turn back to him to give him the attention he wanted. I was out of sight so he didn’t know that I’d stopped, and I waited to see if he would calm down.

I knew the longer I waited listening to him the more likely I would be to give in to him, so I marched upstairs and pretended I hadn’t heard it. I readied for bed and tucked myself in, dozy as soon as my head hit the pillow.

It was quiet. All I could hear was the wind whistling through the houses from the field. I didn’t hear a car, I didn’t hear a conversation, and I didn’t hear the puppy downstairs.

Until he barked.

When he started barking, it wasn’t fully formed. It was like those little yappy things you hear on dogs that are smaller than cats. But it was still loud, and I was scared Ruby would wake.

I whined and sat up, throwing the covers off me. I hurried back downstairs while making as little noise as I possibly could, and sat on my knees in front of the puppy before he could make another sound.

I shushed him, stroking over the top of his head where he sat upright in his bed. He licked my face and hands, like it was some kind of bribe for me to stay with him. I was stupid but I wasn’t that stupid.

I waited with him for ten minutes before I tried again, because I could barely keep my eyes open, but all the events from my original attempt repeated themselves. Bongo started crying as soon as I was out of sight, and two minutes after he started barking.

“Fuck sake,” I muttered, and marched my way back downstairs.

I stood in front of him with my arms folded and a scowl on my face. “Right, let’s get one thing straight, mister. I am in charge of this house, not you. You stay down here at nighttime and you go to sleep like a good boy, and I go to bed upstairs like a normal human being. Got it?”

He stared at me, completely silent.

“Good. Now, I’m going to bed, and you will stay here quietly.”

I turned around and opened the latch on the penn. In the next second, Bongo had shot out and was on his way to the stairs.

“Oh, you little shitbag.” I said through gritted teeth.

When I found him he was charging excitedly from the landing, into my room and back again. Once he spotted me, he ran back into the bedroom and jumped onto my bed. He padded his way around it for a while and then plonked himself down in the middle of the two pillows.

I dragged a hand down my face and tried not to squeal.

Crawling onto the bed, I shooed him away with my hand and hiss-like noises. He growled playfully and ran to the end of the bed, and I took my opportunity to settle back down. Bongo curled up right next to me only seconds later.

Once again, as I was close to drifting off, I was interrupted by something else.

“Mummy!” Ruby shouted in a whisper from the doorway.

“Ruby, go back to bed.” I said without even opening my eyes.

“You said Bongo had to stay downstairs!” She argued, climbing up onto my bed. “You lied, you just wanted him all for yourself!”

“That’s not true.” I shook my head against my pillow, eyes still shut. “He was barking and escaped.”

“I think you should let me sleep in here with you to say sorry for lying to me.”

I rolled onto my back, utterly bewildered. She was smarter than me, that was for sure. “Fine, but you have to go to sleep, Ruby. You can’t stay awake all night and play with the dog - he needs to learn a routine and you need to keep yours.”

She hummed thoughtfully, over-exaggerating with it in that way that children do, and then grinned. “Okay.”

She crawled under the covers on the empty side of the bed and settled right down. “Night night, Mummy.”

“Buenas noches, querida.”

In the morning I took Ruby to school and she got upset because she couldn’t take Bongo with her. It must’ve been frustrating for her - I could understand where she was coming from. Yesterday all she’d done was spend time with her puppy, it was all the world revolved around, and now she was being dragged back down to Earth. All it took for her to calm was the reminder that he’d be waiting for her when she finished, and it was our day to look after Oscar. She ran off towards the school gates, nearly face-planting on her way there.

“Now that is a handsome boy.” Zara said once she arrived at the garage, abandoning her things in the middle of the floor and dropping to her knees in front of the puppy.

I watched with a small smile as Bongo made himself familiar with the new face and his new surroundings, tentatively lifting his muzzle up towards Zara and sniffing her before he decided she was acceptable.

“What was she calling him again?”

“Bongo.” I said, and zipped up my coveralls.

“Great name. How did something so smart come out of you - your child is a genius?”

I shook my head. “No idea. Must be something from her Dad. Tea?”

“Go on, then.”

I slipped out of the office to the kitchenette at the back of the garage and made a round of tea for us. I drank it while I was going through the pile of forms for cars that needed to be fixed. There was a lot.

“Did you notice anything weird between Geri and Owen on Saturday?” Zara asked, perching on the edge of the desk. She took forms from me as I handed them to her - jobs that she could easily do.

“Nope.” I lied.

Of course I hadn’t forgotten about the argument they’d had in the living room while I was pretending not to be in the near vicinity in the kitchen. But Geri’s issues with her husband were none of my business, and I didn’t intend to find it out without her telling me on her own accord.

“They were behaving so weirdly, I swear. He wouldn’t look at her.”

“Maybe they’d just had an argument.” I shrugged.

“Me and Mickey had had an argument, but we didn’t just not talk to each other. And Owen left without saying anything. Not a chance in hell did he leave early because he was sick. He was slurping down those frozen things that your mum puts alcohol in like nobody’s business.”

“Cholados.” I reminded her. “I think you’re reading too much into it, Z.”

“I’m gonna ask her.” She decided in that instance. “Was she at the school this morning?”

“I didn’t see her, but I don’t in the mornings very often.”

Zara wandered off with her job forms in hand, leaving me to feel more concerned than I had over the weekend. I appreciated that Zara was probably just trying to be a good friend, but I knew what Geri was like, and I knew that she didn’t like other people poking into her business. If what Owen had said was true and she was leaving him, that was something she needed to come to us with, not the other way around.

Later on Zara told me that Geri had replied to her text, but she’d said nothing was wrong and she and Owen were fine. I told her to leave everything alone after that.

That evening I was curious as to what would happen with Bongo. I couldn’t have him stay in bed with me again - it disrupted Ruby’s bedtime routine.

I decided to stay up as late as possible, putting him in his cage before I went up but staying up with him for a little while longer. He did curl up in his bed after a while of sitting and staring at me, and I turned the TV right down so I could hear his breathing.

It took a bit longer than I’d have liked, but I remained patient. He kept standing up, circling a few times on the spot and then plonking back down again. He did this maybe ten times before he finally nodded off. I listened to him snoozing for another hour before I took myself to bed.

I was glad when I got to the stairs and he didn’t cry, and more so when I got into bed and fell asleep, and was not awoken by the sound of his barks downstairs.

I don’t know what time it was when I woke up and needed the toilet, but I hadn’t heard a peep out of him. I decided to look in on Ruby to make sure she was alright before I used the bathroom.

I tried not to lose my temper when I saw that at some point she’d woken up, gone downstairs, and brought the puppy upstairs to sleep with her. He was curled up next to her by her feet, snoring away. I knocked my forehead against the doorframe.

I couldn’t wake them up now. I’d have a barking dog and an upset child.

That morning, I made sure she knew she wasn’t to do it again.

“But he was crying, Mummy!” She insisted, a little scowl on her face. “I didn’t want him to be alone and I didn’t want him to wake you up.”

“Ruby, he has got to get into a routine with us, we can’t just let him all over the house because he cries at night - he needs discipline.”

“It was just last night, I promise! I won’t let him with me again.”

I knew at that point all I could do was take her word for it.

On Tuesday afternoon I was ready for a fight. I’d prepared all of my receipts from sending Ruby to that awful morning club, and was just waiting to pounce on Lorraine. I took Bongo out of the car and let him drag me by the lead. Geri was standing alone, which I found odd at first considering Harry was also waiting, but then I realised he was being heckled by three other mums. I didn’t know what he was saying but it couldn’t have been as funny as Debbie was making it out to be.

“What’s going on there?” I asked, tightening Bongo’s lead as I stood next to Geri.

She leant down with a smile to pet the animal, greeting him with the same cooed, “Hi, gorgeous boy,” as she did yesterday. “Just pointless flirting. I was talking to him to begin with, and then one of the mums I don’t know joined us and started asking about molars and flossing. But she was flirting so I gave up and left.”

I snorted. “Sounds painful.”

“It was really weird, I won’t lie. Like, I know he’s a dentist, but I don’t think talking about molars in a flirtatious way is going to get the bloke to like you.”

“What even are molars?”

Geri turned to me with a frown. “They’re… teeth, Floss.”

“Oh.” Was all I said.

I looked in the direction of the dentist. He was wearing scrubs on his bottoms again and a plain white t-shirt, one arm folded across his front and supporting the other, rubbing his hand into his stubbly cheek. He also didn’t say a single word, while Debbie didn’t look like she was ever going to shut up.

In the next second he glanced in my general direction, meeting my gaze. He lifted his hand away from his face by way of a wave. I didn’t know what to do, then. I’d been caught staring. I forced a smile, but looked back to the gate.

“Why are you so afraid of that man?” Geri asked. I wasn’t looking at her but I was sure she was smirking.

“I’m not afraid of him.” I lied.

“Floss, you couldn’t be more terrified of him if you tried. I know he’s a dentist, but he’s harmless.”

“Dunno what you mean.”

Seconds later, Bongo suddenly got excited, weaving through my legs and away from me.

“Hey,” I said, following where he was trying to run off to as I gripped his lead tighter, “stay here, please.”

It turned out Harry had excused himself from conversation about general dentistry to come and speak to us. Or the dog, I wasn’t sure.

“Hello,” He said immediately to the puppy, crouching down to give him some fuss, “hello.”

I watched, stunned and frozen in my place while the dentist gave the dog his full attention for a solid minute, stroking and cooing included. I couldn’t not watch - it would be almost rude not to. A good-looking man in scrubs and a cute puppy fawning over one another? They made whole calendars with this kind of content.

Geri nudged me, and I finally looked away to find that everyone else was watching him too. I felt under pressure.

Harry finally stood to his full height and smiled at me. “Y’alright?”

I nodded tightly. “Yep, you?”

“I’m fine.” He shrugged. “Much better for seeing this good boy.”

Bongo was still fighting for his attention with hand licks and standing on his back legs while pawing up Harry’s front.

We waited in silence for the children to appear, with me staring ahead and trying not to draw attention to myself, Geri picking her nails, and Harry still playing with the dog.

Then, I spotted Lorraine across the car park talking to one of the dads, and I forgot about everything else around me. “Excuse me,” I muttered.

From where she was standing it looked like she might have been trying to avoid me, but she had a fat chance of that happening. As soon as she noticed I was coming, her initial expression was shock, and then she squared herself off.

Bongo was trotting alongside me and stopped when I did. Then he did something I didn’t expect - he looked up at the woman I was ready to fight with, and immediately growled.

Interesting!

“Come to pay the money you owe me, Florence?” Lorraine goaded.

“No. How many months in total was Ruby coming to you?” I demanded.

She scoffed at me. “I don’t know.”

“Considering you’re asking me for more money, do you not perhaps think you should know?”

Lorraine opened her mouth, but never actually said anything.

“How many months?” I repeated.

“I don’t know!”

“Then go and find out!”

Her expression fell, mouth parted. Then, in a snap movement, she shook her head and marched away, scowling. I watched her as she yomped across the car park, muttering away to herself.

The dad she was talking to before gave me a judgemental look. I glared at him when I turned away.

“I have never seen you like that before.” Geri said, eyes wide but quite obviously entertained by my little outburst.

Harry snorted. “I have.”

Bongo was fussing around my legs, little squeaks coming out of him. I sighed and bent down to pick him up. He licked my cheek and then pushed his head into it.

“I’m sorry, but I am not going to be bullied by that ridiculous woman. I don’t care what she’s told the other parents and whether they believe her, she’s a cunt.”

I waited and waited for Lorraine, or Ruby, to appear from the school. Something was obviously keeping the children back but we hadn’t been told anything about it if that was the case. Sometimes they held these emergency assemblies and sent us an email about it an hour before the end of the day. If they had sent one, I hadn’t seen it.

Lorraine finally came back, cheeks pink and her shoulders slumped. She didn’t usually look so miserable. She made her way straight over to me, but she was obviously conscious of the other parents watching. I put Bongo back on the floor, and he’d already begun growling at her.

“22 months.” She said, barely audible.

“Sorry?”

“22 months.” She repeated, much clearer, followed by a defeated huff.

“Right.” I shoved my pile of bank statements into her chest and folded my arms. “Count them.”

She looked at the receipts and then at me. “What?”

“They’re all there, highlighted to make it easier for you. So I want you to count them.”

People were starting to whisper and it was irritating me. I knew we were a spectacle for the bored parents of this sleepy village, but I wanted them to see that no matter how stupid I made myself look, I wasn’t going to let other people get away with it.

Lorraine stood and counted every highlighted transaction on the papers in front of her. She held her breath at the end, the paper crumpling in her hands, and then she counted them again.

“Well?”

She swallowed. “22. There’s 22 here.”

“I thought so.” I said, snatching the paper back from her. “Thank you very much.”

“It was an honest mistake, Floss.”

“I don’t care if it was an honest mistake.” I said, folding my arms. “You were pissed off that I went mad at you in the car park, and you found the first thing you could to try and make me look bad in front of all of these people like some kind of dumb revenge. You knew exactly what you were doing, whether the error was genuine or not. Did you really think that as someone who runs her own company I wouldn’t know how to handle my fucking finances?

“I’m so sick of this fucking nonsense with you. You fucked up by trying to hide the fact that your son is a bully, and that you enabled him. Whispering shit to him about my life so that he could use it against my child. And then I called you out on it and you got angry, so you bitched about me to the other parents and then tried to embarrass me in front of them. Do you know how petty that is?”

Lorraine swallowed, “I’m sorry.”

“I know I am not the smartest person in this village. I know people think I’m crazy, but I don’t care. I have never cared what people think of me as a person. However I will not accept someone taking their dislike for me and trying to make me look like a bad parent, because I know that is one thing I’m good at.”

“Mummy!”

At the sound of Ruby’s call I took a deep breath and searched for her. She was running towards us, finally, and my face broke into a smile.

“Hola, querida,” I said, crouching down to accept the hug she always gave me.

Ruby choosing to hug me first over the dog helped me emphasise my point to Lorraine without me even having to.

When I stood up again, Lorraine had already gone.

“¿Vamos a casa de la abuela?” Are we going to Grandma’s?

I stood back at her fully formed question, laughing. “Who taught you that?!”

“Someone came in today to teach us some Spanish! I asked at the end of the day so I could say it to you.”

I shook my head with a smile. “That’s… okay. Well, did you know the most out of everyone else?”

“Yeah! No one else knew any Spanish.”

“Well, there we go. Did you learn any other phrases?”

“Hay una serpiente en mi bota.”

I narrowed my gaze and remembered one of the kids in her class was mad about Toy Story. I snorted. “Of course.”

“What does that mean?” Geri asked.

“There’s a snake in my boot.”

Harry giggled.

Geri smirked and looked down at Ruby. “Hugo?”

She nodded with a big grin.

“Alright, let’s get going. Grandma will be dying to hear about Spanish classes.” I put my free hand to Ruby’s back. “Say bye to everyone.”

“Bye everyone!”

eleven

On Wednesday when I got to the garage there was already someone waiting on the forecourt outside. I didn’t recognise him as local, and he was leaning against the side of his blue Lamborghini Huracan with his arms folded and a pair of sunglasses on that looked too big for his face.

I parked in my usual place out of the way of everything else and stepped out of the car, feeling much less glamorous than he looked.

“Good morning,” I said to him with an expectant expression, but went straight to the garage door to unlock it.

He seemed taken back by my genuine greeting. He looked at his watch and then back at me. “Are you always this tardy?”

I frowned. “I don’t know what that means.”

The strange man pushed away from his car and made his way towards me. Meanwhile, I tussled with the garage door until it finally gave in.

“Are you always this late?”

I looked at him, offended by his question. Up this close I noticed things I couldn’t see before. He was an older man but not old, maybe in his late thirties or early forties. I only guessed this from the salt and pepper hairs around his ears. He had a very square face, but in a kind of attractive way, and when he took his glasses off I found a very blue pair of eyes. He was dressed smartly, in a white dress shirt not buttoned all the way up, and black tailored suit trousers. He looked exactly like the type of person who would drive a blue Lamborghini.

Before I could respond to his rude question, he made a comment that confused me.

“Wow.” He said, taking a step back when I tried to stand straighter.

“What?” I asked with a furrowed brow, but moved towards the buttons on the side of the doorway to finish opening the garage door. It was loud while I did, too loud to hear a man speak.

The stranger’s gaze flicked between me and the ascending garage door, trying not to express his amusement.

I waited for him to finally say what was so… wow, trying not to appear as irritated as I was.

“You’re very beautiful.”

I blinked at him. I couldn’t see how that had anything to do with me being late. “What’s your point?”

Now he looked confused. “I… don’t have a point.”

I took a deep breath. “Okay,” I said around my exhale, and turned away from him to get Bongo out of the car. He was sitting in the window when I reappeared with a cocked head, and it was quite cute.

“How long will it take to sort the car?” The weird man asked, following me as I walked Bongo through to the office.

“Well, I’d need to know what’s wrong with it first.”

“There’s nothing wrong with it, it just needs a service.”

“Right,” I rolled my eyes, but he couldn’t see me do it. I settled Bongo down in his bed and then found a form for the customer to fill out. “It usually takes a few hours.”

“So I’ll have it back soon? Like, today soon?”

I stared at him blankly, and looked out into the crammed garage, and then back to him. “Not today, no.”

“Why not?”

“Because all those cars in the garage have actual things wrong with them and they’ve been waiting longer.”

“I can pay you more to prioritise it. Money is no issue.”

Must be nice.

I gave him another perplexed stare. “If you’re so keen to get it done, why didn’t you take it to an actual Lamborghini garage?”

“Because a friend recommended you. And the Lamborghini garage charges an arm and a leg for a service.”

“You’ve literally just said money isn’t an issue.”

He took a moment, unsure what to say, but his bemused smirk said it all. “Alright, fair enough. But you were recommended to me and I’d really like it to be done today. Please.”

“No.” I shook my head, handing him the form on a clipboard.

“Why not? I’ll literally pay you double whatever you would normally charge.”

“I won’t be bought. Sorry.”

“Oh, come on.” He laughed in a kind of pained way. “These other people won’t know.”

“These other people can’t afford to pay me double. That Nissan has been there for three days, and you can sod off if you think I’m not going to start on it right away because you’re too impatient to wait.”

He pressed his lips together tightly. “What’s your name?”

“Floss.”

He tipped his head. “Floss, as in the dental stuff?”

“No, Floss as in Florence.”

He was obviously confused but he was still smirking. “Well, Floss. You drive a hard bargain. Is there anything I can do to convince you otherwise?”

“No.”

“Really? My son is looking to become a mechanic, I could get him to come and help you. Maybe if it works out you could give him a job.”

“If your son is looking to become a mechanic, maybe you should get him to service your car.”

He laughed again, like he was in agony, towards the ceiling. “Come on, Floss. What’s a man gotta do to get his car serviced around here?”

“Wait.” I said, and folded my arms. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but we could talk about this all day and it won’t change anything, and I’ve already wasted too much time talking about it. You either leave it here, or you don’t. Your choice.”

The man looked at me for a while, and he was obviously fighting with himself. “You know it’s not very often I don’t get my own way.”

“I believe you.”

He sighed and started filling the form out, but he was enjoying himself. “You know, I quite like the idea of having my car looked at by you. And on the plus side of leaving it here, I get to come back and see that pretty face of yours again.”

I took the form from him when he handed it to me, and hooked the clipboard under my arm. “Do you need a courtesy car?”

He bit away a smile. “I might do.”

“Is that a ye-,”

“-Morning!” Zara announced herself. She was carrying a small brown paper bag and a two-slot tray with coffees on the top.

I lifted my head at her as she passed, and she wasn’t shy in eyeing up the man standing in front of me.

“Don’t worry about the courtesy car.” He said rather quickly. “Just give me a call when you’re done with her.”

“Okay.”

I was admittedly relieved to see him go, and my tense posture dropped once he finally left the garage.

Zara came to stand next to me, chewing on a croissant. “Who was he?”

“Some minted Lambo owner.” I said, looking at the information on the form. Darren was his name. He looked like a Darren.

“He was sexy.”

“He was annoying.”

“Yeah, but he was sexy.”

I grunted at her and turned away.

“What did he want?”

“A service.”

Zara’s laugh was dirty. “You could give him a right good service if you tried hard enough. And he’d enjoy it.”

I paused, narrowing my gaze at her. “You’re not talking about the car, are you?”

“No I’m bloody not, he was delicious. Let me tell you, if I was single I’d-,”

“-You don’t need to tell me, Z. Leave some for the imagination.”

I wandered into the office and left Darren’s form on the bottom of our to-do pile. Or rather, on the bottom of Zara’s to-do pile, since she usually did the service jobs.

“Cheers for the coffee.”

“My pleasure. I was running late so it was the least I could do.”

I spent the rest of the day stressed at how much work I had to do, and found myself late collecting Ruby from the dentist’s house again. He must’ve thought I was utterly useless.

I had no idea what I looked like marching across the pebbles up to the front door, but at that point in the day I didn’t really care. I knocked twice and then folded my arms.

It took Harry barely a minute to come and answer. He swung the door open, an easy smile on his face again and in a pair of bright green jogging bottoms and a white t-shirt. “Hi,” he started, and then he frowned at the sight of me, “are you alright?”

“I’m fine, I’ve just had a busy day.” I shrugged, trying not to make a big deal out of it.

Harry pressed his lips together, still frowning at me like he was debating something. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, it’s alright. Honestly. I really just need to get Ruby home and fed.”

He studied me for a little bit longer. “I don’t mind if you want to have a little bitch, Floss. ‘M all ears.” He flicked behind his right ear with a little smile.

I bit away my own. “I appreciate that, but-,”

“-Mummy!”

Ruby appeared behind Harry in the hallway, a big grin on her face, and she sped out to me to give me a hug.

“Hola, querida.” I said as I hugged her back. I picked her up, and she wrapped her legs around my waist and her arms around my shoulders. She was warm and it felt wonderful around me. “¿Cómo estás?”

She looked at me with a hum, playing with my hair in the ponytail I had it in. “Soy bueno.”

“Buena.” I reminded her. “You’re a lady.”

“Ruby,” Harry said, and we both looked back his way. Oscar was standing by his legs with a little smile on his face. “Do you and your mum want to stay for dinner?”

Ruby gasped and looked at me, eyes bright and warm. “Can we, Mummy? Please, please, please?”

“Er…” I was lost for words.

“Please?” She begged.

I looked back at Harry, who had a smug grin on his face, probably because he knew I didn’t have a way of saying no.

“Mummy, please?”

I sighed and put her back on her feet. “I guess we can, yeah.”

“Yay!” Ruby squealed, and started jumping up and down. “Can I go and get Bongo?”

Shit, I’d forgotten about the dog.

I met Harry’s gaze again. “I’ve got a blanket he can sit on.” He offered.

“Oh, are you sure? I’ve got one in my car if you’d prefer?”

“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind.”

I gave Ruby the key to the car so she could go and retrieve her puppy, watching carefully to make sure there wasn’t an accident where he ran off or accidentally tripped her over. She ran straight into the house with him and Oscar, leaving the key with me. I locked the car from where I stood.

“That was really naughty of you.” I said to Harry as he took a step back to let me in.

He laughed, cheeks a little rosy. “What? It was Oscar’s idea - blame him.”

I toed my shoes off by the front door and followed the dentist through to the kitchen in the next room.

Even though the house looked big from the outside, inside it was still very much like a cottage, with low ceilings and exposed beams. The kitchen was open plan with a dining room, spread from the front to the back of the house, the counters overlooking the garden, and then a four-seater breakfast table in the front window, with a cushioned bench.

In the next room was the lounge, where the children had toys spread out everywhere, of which Bongo was animatedly sniffing.

“Ruby, you keep a close eye on him.” I warned her, “And don’t let him get on any of the furniture, alright?”

“Okay!” She agreed, but I wasn’t convinced she’d actually listened to a word I said.

Harry put a large woollen blanket on the floor by the back door, folded up multiple times so that it was comfortable enough for him. “That alright?”

“More than alright, thank you.”

“What do you want for dinner, kids? Takeaway?”

“Yeah!” They screamed in unison.

I gave Harry a bemused frown. “Where are you gonna get a takeaway from in Bibury?”

“The Catherine Wheel.”

“They don’t deliver…”

He smirked. “They do to me. What would you like, Ruby?”

I watched with fascination as Harry took the children’s orders, and then he nodded me back into the kitchen and told me to make myself comfortable. I gingerly sat at the dining table, not comfortable at all.

He moved around his kitchen with ease. It was like watching a practised dance as he found glasses out of cupboards and bottles out of racks. His arms were everywhere and his legs swanned around. His back muscles rippled with every slight movement and it was embarrassing how closely I watched his every move. I was so fascinated by him I didn’t realise what he was doing until he screwed the top back on the wine bottle.

“Harry, I can’t have a drink.” I shook my head as he presented me with a glass of red wine.

“Why not?”

“It’s a school night, and I have to drive home.”

He shrugged, and sat in the chair next to mine. “It’s only one - you’ll be fine.”

I set my jaw, but I tried not to give away just how frustrated I was. Today was not the day for this. I didn’t need to get hot under the collar over this man after my horrendous day.

“What happened at work?”

I stared at him, noting the relaxed posture he held. He was sitting, but in a rather laid-back way, literally. He’d sunk into the chair, legs stretched under the table, and his right hand was resting on the base of his wine glass.

I tried to make myself as small as possible. “It was just busy - it has been all week. But things just kept coming and kept coming. I’m only one person.”

“Haven’t you got, um,” he scratched his face as he tried to remember, “Zara there with you?”

“I do, but she’s not a mechanic.”

“Oh. What does she do, then?”

“Literally everything else. Services, anything cosmetic, if you know what I mean?” He nodded, so I carried on. “If someone needs a temporary car she’ll handle it. Basically anything that doesn’t involve fixing a car, she does. But at the moment there’s a lot of cars that need fixing.”

“I see.” He nodded again. “Well, I’m sorry you’ve had a shit day.”

I shrugged. “It might not have been so bad if I hadn’t started off the day talking to some utter prick.”

Harry tapped the table. “Tell me more.”

I rolled my eyes. “He was rich. Like, richie-rich. Turned up in a bright blue Lamborghini Huracan and asked why I was late.” I scoffed. “Then when he actually looked at me he was… well, I guess he was flirting with me, and it was odd. Then he wanted to pay extra for me to get the service done faster and I told him no, and he got really funny about it.”

“Funny how?”

“He said he had a son who was training to be a mechanic and tried to get me to hire him to help.”

“That’s weird.”

“I know.”

“Also, Lamborghini garages have services where you can drop your car off and get it serviced there and then.”

“That’s what I said!” I nearly shouted. “But he didn’t want to pay for it, which was ridiculous because he was offering to pay me double the price for the service just to get it done quicker.”

“I mean… from an income point of view, that might not have been a terrible thing.”

“Harry, I’ve got cars sitting in that garage that have been there nearly a week because I haven’t had time to get to them. I’m not going to pander to a spoilt rich man just because he couldn’t be bothered to wait.”

“Alright, I guess I kind of see your point. What was the outcome?”

I grimaced. “He left it with me because he said at least he got to see me again, or something.”

Harry giggled. “God loves a trier.”

“He was a cock.”

“How do you manage to attract these weird men all the time?”

“Dunno, but it might explain why I’m sat here with you.”

The dentist’s mouth fell, and he brought his hand to his chest. “Ouch.”

I took a drink from the glass Harry had poured for me, and I had to admit it was an incredibly satisfying feeling. It made me feel warm inside. Still on the tail end of the comment about weird men, I thought about what Harry had seen on Saturday with Frank.

“I’m not having an affair with Frank, by the way.”

Harry’s head craned back a bit, eyes wide and with a tight smile. “What a statement to make.”

“Oh,” I smacked my face into my palm.

“I don’t even think I know who Frank is, but I’m glad we cleared that up, Floss.” He was laughing, breath around his wine glass making it sing a little as he took a sip.

“No, because I know you saw something on Saturday, and I don’t want you to think-,”

“-Oh, that bloke!” Harry sat forward, patting the table again. “I was going to mention something after but I didn’t want to make you more uncomfortable, which it was obvious you were, by the way.”

“Well, I wasn’t sure how it looked from an outside point of view.”

“You looked like you wanted to murder the man, Florence.”

I screwed my face up, feeling hot. “I did.”

“What did you say to him?”

“What do you mean?”

Harry swallowed another sip of wine. “I heard you say something to him in Spanish.”

“Oh,” I laughed but it was nervous, “I think I said I’d chop his dick off if he didn’t stop touching me.”

Harry nodded with a smile. “Nice. Can he speak Spanish?”

“Not as far as I’m aware. But he’d spent 5 minutes bitching about the fact that my mum only ever made Colombian food when we have a party. Speaking to him in a language he didn’t understand made me feel kind of…”

“Powerful?”

“Yeah? I guess?”

“Well, I’ll tell you it makes you superior to him, that’s for sure.”

I smiled at the table, and I knew I was blushing - I could feel it in my cheeks. “When I was little my mum always used to say she hated that man, and still does now, but I didn’t really know why. And then as I got older it started making sense. Now I hate him more than my mum does.”

“Who even is he?”

“One of Dad’s friends. His wife is also really good friends with my mum, but she’s fuckin’ blind. I think my mum told her once that Frank is a nonce, but it didn’t go down very well.”

Harry's laughter was like barking. “Did she really call him a nonce?”

“Something like that. I don’t think she realised the real meaning of the word at the time.”

“That’s funny. I do like your mum.”

I was nodding around a smile. “Most people do. She’s so Latin in so many ways, like she’s fiery and a bit loud, and very opinionated. But she’s also really… nice? Like a really good kind of nice. Kind, gentle… you know.”

“I do. My mum is the same. Just not Latin.”

That made me giggle for some reason. “You don’t think about how important it is to have a good motherly figure in your life until you’re older, do you?”

Harry took a deep breath and looked towards the living room. “No, you don’t.”

I realised then that he was probably thinking about Oscar and the lack of someone like that in his life. “Oh shit, I’m sorry.”

He looked at me with a frown. “About what?”

“That stupid comment I just made, I didn’t mean to-,”

“-Jesus, Floss.” He shook his head, laughing breathily. “You don’t need to apologise. We moved down here for a reason - I miss my mum but Oscar needed to form that relationship with his other grandparents too, and I couldn’t do that where I was before.”

I watched him for a moment, but he didn’t seem upset. “Do you miss home?”

He pursed his lips. “Sometimes. I think it was a shock to the system at first, but I maybe kinda prefer it here.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! It’s so quiet, the school is good. Well, apart from the bullying incident, but it is good everywhere else. The people are nice, excluding Lorraine. I like it here.”

“That felt like a very small list.”

“I’m serious! I can’t explain it, but it’s just… it’s lovely here. And Oscar is happy and that’s all that matters.”

I took a deep breath. “Well, I can’t argue with that.”

“Would you ever consider moving for Ruby?”

“I’d do anything for Ruby.” I said without hesitation. “I mean, we have everything here that we need - my parents are here, I grew up here and I wouldn’t want to pull her away from that, but if I needed to for whatever reason then I definitely would.

“I actually sometimes think about going to Colombia or one of the other countries down there, but my mother hated it so I’m not entirely convinced it would be any good for us.”

“I don’t know anything about Colombia so I couldn’t say, but I imagine uprooting her life like that might not be best. To move to a new town or city is one thing, but to move to a completely different country is entirely another.”

I smirked. “They your words of wisdom, are they?”

Harry laughed. “Absolutely. Although it was more observation than wisdom.”

I wished he wouldn’t use big words like that.

When the food arrived Harry asked the children to come and sit with us, apparently not keen on Oscar eating in the living room. I hadn’t ever thought about a rule like that - Ruby and I just always ate together at the kitchen table.

After we finished eating I also asked for a pint of water and necked the whole thing for sobriety purposes, not that I was drunk. Ruby thanked Harry and Oscar for having us before even I did, and then we drove home.

Even though I was exhausted we still had to take Bongo for a walk. Ruby could barely keep her eyes open and I ended up carrying her half way around. We called it a night and I promised Bongo a longer walk in the morning before work.

Chapters twelve, thirteen & fourteen

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst imagine

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grandprix-ao3 · 1 year

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12 & 23?

12. the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them

haha. ha. i think you already know... :) my favorite driver on the grid by an embarrassingly long shot is logan sargeant. and i actually do have a track record of being pretty convincing in terms of logan but i do all of it by accident!! between hollywoodsargeant and miamis (coughs and my tiktok) i am making the logan content i wish to see in the world and in the process like. accidentally roping a bunch of other people into the mess. So

but i will attempt a purposeful convincing tactic by just yelling vaguely about what i like about him. uh... he's usamerican (i'm usamerican, red white and blue or something, idk) and he's cute and pretty well-spoken and he's funny!! is that clip from the GQ video of him poorly rapping lose yourself by eminem a valid reason why more people should like him? him liking horrible tiktoks about himself that make fun of how aggressively patriotic he is? (he is self aware!) consider literally any prema video he's in he's just. he's fucking stupid. this is a man who said full confidence he cannot live without the wolf of wall street. his own victory pose (courtesy of benny jacobs!). burger sauce. i love my men stupid and crooked-grinning and wearing big ugly sunglasses and walking with a funny little saunter and he checks all the boxes. what more could i (you? maybe?) want!

idk man the issue here is that i don't even really know why i started liking him so much but now he is my favorite ever no contest and i will go to great lengths to make that known and he's cute HE'S CUTE!!! he has a father-son type relationship with his trainer that makes me want to cry (my son calls him older brother. stop) and a stupid laugh and every time he talks about his friends i smile like an idiot like yeah! kyle kirkwood is your boy! you guys go way back! and you and oscar can't seem to get away from each other, you've known each other forever and every time you go your separate ways they always lead in to the same place. you cracked your ribs fucking around with your brother who you love very much and sometimes you can't shut up about your hometown but it's endearing so i'll let you get away with it and you're racing in your fucking backyard this is your homecoming i'm. yeah okay i'll stop. could theoretically go on forever i am. tremendously compelled by him. in love with him. formula 1 driver logan hunter sargeant. that's my boy!

also he has a really nice ass idk go look at any photo of him in his race suit it's honestly stupid how good he looks in it

23. ship you've unwillingly come around to

every ship i have come around to has been against my will. since we're on a logan train: loscar? from unwilling to driving the whole entire bus i did the math earlier i'm responsible for like 14% of all fics in the loscar tag. Anyways. they're compelling did you see the childhood friends shit i rbed earlier... yeah. Yeah. that's my entire case for them: that

also clemarcus. i even remember when el oversteerey was actively posting six weeks and i wasn't reading it bc i didn't really. know much about either clem or marcus? but i'm subbed to their ao3 so it was in my inbox. then when it got finished i was like Fine and now i read that fic as like a routine. so good. they're also very compelling but less in the childhood friends way and more in the Oh My God Stop Touching Each Other You Gay Freaks way. both are vibes

choose violence ask game

#ask #ask game #sorry. too much loganfucking #the hypfx started talking #but i love him. I LOVE HIM #miami's gonna kill me actually #that's my florida boy out there #MY FLORIDA BOY !!!!#no i am not from florida. or the south #not from anywhere remotely close to florida actually #but i'm with duracell on this one #american driver on the grid has me going to lengths i never thought i would #good lord

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oscarupsets · 13 days

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Hello, 1960s! New decade, new vibes.

Widely acclaimed Best Picture winner The Apartment left me upset-less for this year. While critics are lukewarm about the other nominees, one source did hint towards another fan-favorite: Psycho.

I will not hide it, I LOVE The Apartment. I think it's the humor that gets to me. There's also something Jack Lemmon brings to his characters that is just SO good. He's quirky, he's funny, I just can't explain it. Caught between Lemmon and past-Upset star Fred MacMurray, Shirley MacLaine delivers an equally endearing performance.

Released 20 years after his Best Picture winner Rebecca, Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho is one of his many later films that missed out a Best Picture nomination.

In 1960, Psycho was groundbreaking in terms of violence and sex in film. The violence in question is some stabbing that doesn't actually produce wounds, while the sex is two unmarried people sharing a bed. Not knocking it, just interesting how far we've come from 1960.

The production also felt groundbreaking for the time, especially the camera angles. They were all over the place and super fun, especially the really low shots and the birds-eye-like staircase shots.

Alfred Hitchcock implemented strict standards during the showings of Psycho. People were not allowed to be admitted into the theater once the film had begun, and even pay-per-view equivalent televisions would not allow viewers to start a showing after the start time.

The Apartment was the most nominated and awarded film of the night at the 33rd Academy Awards. And while the actors missed out on wins at the Oscars, they were thankfully recognized previously at the Golden Globes and the BAFTAs. Psycho's one major award for the season came from the Golden Globes for Janet Leigh.

Psycho was not named as a Top 10 Film by the National Board of Review in 1960, but has been recognized alongside The Apartment in many other, more recent lists.

Unofficial Review: I enjoyed both very much, but I still prefer The Apartment. This should not, however, dismiss the impact Psycho had on film!

#oscars #academy awards #33rd academy awards #the apartment #the apartment 1960 #psycho #psycho 1960 #1960s #film #1960s film #oscarupsets

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chicknparm · 2 months

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People are not going to like this.

Idk what combination of internet desensitization to violence, post 9/11 detachment, and outright antisemitism leads people to act and think like this, but uh. Abuse and murder of civilians is bad, actually. Regardless of who. You can (and should) oppose the mass murders that the Israeli government is regularly perpetrating while also thinking it’s bad to kill their civilians. “That didn’t happen, and if it did it’s not as bad as they say it is, and if it was then they deserved it” is exactly how people talk about the very Palestinians you claim to care about. So seeing that narrative progress regarding the rape and murder of Israeli civilians? Really makes ya think!

The Israeli government is an immoral institution that deserves consequences for its routine crimes against the Palestinian people. Their civilians do not deserve to pay that price.

Hamas is an extremist group that has proven repeatedly that, when given the chance, they will enact horrific violence on their enemies but also their own people. Civilians who fear them, as well as those who see them as the only path toward Palestinian self-determination, do not deserve to be bombed and shot and starved to death.

The United States government is likewise an immoral and illegitimate institution that deserves consequences for, *gestures at our entire history.* The people killed on 9/11 didn’t deserve to die for those crimes.

See where I’m going with this? If the killing of Israeli civilians is justified because of the actions of the government, then what does that say about the Israeli response to those killings? Which civilians is it okay to kill? Who gets to be innocent? Who gets to be human? Much of the world has ignored Israel’s crimes up to this point because the people suffering are largely Arab Muslims, a demographic that that has been demonized and dehumanized for generations. Can you think of any other groups that have been historically dehumanized? Who have had the violence against them erased? Ignored? Denied?

A major tagline the last few months has been “antizionism is not antisemitism.” I agree with that, but some of you do a piss poor job of showing it.

Oh and one more thing. People are being killed every day in Gaza. This is an ongoing issue. There are no days off. They are not “using the Oscars to distract us,” and please think long and hard about what you believe if “a shady Zionist cabal has outsize influence over Hollywood and mainstream entertainment, and they are using this to distract you from what they’re really doing” doesn’t immediately set off ten thousand alarms.

#none of my mutuals are acting like this but it doesn’t take much digging to find it #every big post has this shit in the notes #it’s all over Reddit and twitter #and even well-meaning people I know irl go overboard #like not to steal valor here I am not Jewish but it’s weird that nobody is vigilant about antisemitism the way they are with other bigotry #anyway I’ve lost the plot entirely #just don’t be fucking assholes. people are people and they don’t deserve this shit

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newsie-collective · 1 year

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Trans Oscar you say?? 👀👀👀

Ohmygoshthankyou

This hc lives rent free in my head

Oscar Delancey, the brains of the Delanceys.

Transfem!Oscar

I've named her Mira, because one translation of it means peace, and that's all she wanted dude.

(Please don't mind my rambling about this)

T/W abuse, neglect, forced gender norms, time appropriate phobias of all kinds, probably more and I'm sorry if I didn't tag one that should be here so please read cautiously

First, I have to start off with the fact that I think there totally would've been a secret fight club-esque thing in the basement of the Refuge. They would take bets on the fighters. One of the ways the Refuge stayed open, despite having all these problems. I personally call it The Ring, just bc I have no idea what else to call it

She was born Oscar Delancey, though has since distanced herself from that name. She was raised in the Refuge, which was, as the newsies know, was only survivable two ways. Obey or escape. Her and her brother had no way out. They had nowhere to go. And so they had to work for their uncle. They were raised by the two meanest men in town. At first, she was disgusted. She didn’t want to do any of the things her uncle asked. And they locked her away with the rest of the kids. Snyder wasn’t limited to just newsies to traumatize. She either had to ‘man up’ or be separated from her brother. He was far more willing. More pliable. So she stayed to help keep him out of trouble. And often found herself in it. By age 10 she’d become as pliable as her brother. Not because her will had broken, but because she was struggling to survive, much less actually live. She was 15 when she hurt Albert. Her uncle had told her and Morris to rough up Jack Kelly to get back at Francis. And to do the same to anyone in the way. Francis has gotten there just after Albert hit the ground and fucked them both all the way up. They were 19 when the strike started, but in too deep to leave their uncle. Too convinced they could only depend on him and Snyder. As soon as Wiesel was out of the distributing chair, she was done with violence. With the threat of the Refuge gone, she had very little to be afraid of.

She and Morris were treated very poorly. They were under fed until they complied with their uncle’s wishes. And, much like the other kids in the Refuge, were thrown into the Ring in the basement. If they refused, they were roughed up and starved until they were willing. If they went and they lost, they would be fed, but only enough to survive. They had to fight and win to get any kind of nutrition. They fought to survive, and by the time they had become adults, it was ingrained in them. They had to listen to their uncle and brawl to be able to do anything. To be able to amount to anything.

#transfem oscar #oscar delancey #mira #newsies #92sies #askthenewsies #carrying the banner #newsies of new york #livesies #king of new york

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rottingmanifesto · 11 months

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6 8 12 and 22 i 🫶 violence

I’ve been putting this off oopsies

6. Which ship fans are the most annoying?

Anyone who sends death threats over any ship is annoying in my book. I don’t care if you ship Donolinc or Roxy x Lincoln or whatever, just don’t be a bitch to others for having different opinions. You’re not better than anyone else for pairing characters together.

8. Common fandom opinion everyone is wrong about

Honestly? Depends on which side of the fandom you’re talking about, and which game it is. (Aka I’m not going to say on here because some people will get really pissy)

12. The unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them

Depends on how you define “liking” (usually it falls into “I like how they’re written/portrayed” or “I like them as a person/concept”). Assuming you mean the latter, I’d say a lot of the characters from the m3 DLCs are pretty good— particularly Anna, MJ, and Roxy for me (plus Oscar).

Anna: mostly just personal reasons. I have beef with how she got fridge-d when she genuinely could’ve gotten help (hell, I can and will write a timeline for her where she lives), but I think she had a lot of potential.

MJ: stoner leftist trying to do his best for his community; what’s not to love? Also we’re chronic pain buddies.

Roxy: yes she’s a stereotype of the “blaxploitation chick”, but I genuinely enjoy her humor, banter, and tenderness.

Oscar: gay vet who helps out Lincoln because he knows the pain of being left behind. Maybe one day I’ll write something for him, who knows.

22. favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores

Depends on the game. Overall, I like that there is tragedy. MDE ends in Salieri having the last say in Tommy’s life; m2 leaves Vito empty, without the only man that gave him a real sense of love and identity; both Lincoln and John are forced to flee everything they’ve come to know, with Lincoln never accepting himself and John never accepting reality. Everyone in this series has their vision of the world that either comes to fruition in the worst way possible (power with no community) or crumbles before their eyes (left dead— metaphorically and/or physically).

#mafia trilogy #asks

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