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maxlarens · 2 months

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i promise i'm writing my max oneshot CURRENTLY but i had to get the sillies out about this really badly. australian spring/summer i love u i love u i love u!!!! also at this point i think the difference between a one shot and drabble on this account is non existent and simply based on vibes. this is only a one shot bcs it feels a bit more coherent i suppose?

LN: australia street

pairing(s): lando norris x piastri!reader, oscar piastri & piastri!reader

word count: 1.3k+

It all feels very familiar, nostalgic even— though you've never been in quite this situation before. With Oscar sure; you always rope your brother into doing things when you're in Australia again. But this is the first time that Lando's joined you.

It's nice, to be home.

Not that it's yours or Oscar's home anymore (that's not true. It always will be, no matter where in the world you jet off to). It's certainly not Lando's. It's hard to put words to the feeling, you just know it's nice.

You're driving, of course, because Oscar and Lando can never decide which of the two of them should drive. So you'd snatched the keys to the Piastri family '96 Holden Commodore and slammed the driver door behind you before either of them could say boo. Lando had snagged the passenger seat in a mad dash that you'd watched play out in the rear-view mirror, while Oscar had complained all the way to the backseat.

"Whered'ya wanna go?", you half turn your head to ask Oscar, checking your blind spot at the same time.

Oscar hums as he thinks. You can feel Lando's eyes burning a hole into the side of your face.

"Do you remember that fish and chips shop—"

You do, "Where Dad used to take us? Yeah, it closed down," then you add, "Besides, Lando hates fish. Jeez, Osc."

"Ah fuck," Oscar groans, "That sucks."

Lando makes a noise, indignant, "I can't believe you forgot. It's my one thing."

Oscar rolls his eyes, "It's not your one thing, Lando. You have plenty of things."

They start to bicker, devolving into an argument that you only understand about half of, about pet peeves and the things the other one does that get on the other’s nerves. You chime in a few times to agree about Oscar’s annoying habits, the things you'd grown up complaining to your Mum about. Quietly to yourself, you decide on a route to an old Italian place you know is still kicking around— they won't mind.

You roll your window down, feel the balmy spring breeze in your hair, on your face. It smells like the bloom of jasmine flowers, of warmth, of the smoke of people BBQ-ing in their backyards. You breathe deeply, absently aware of the petered-out conversation. Oscar dozing in the backseat like he always does. Lando looking out the other window, watching gum trees and bottlebrush on the sides of the road. 'M looking for koala’s he'd said the other day, which had made you laugh. You'd been tempted to tell him about drop bears, but you're sure that Daniel had already warned him of the dangers.

"Do you miss it here?", Lando asks suddenly.

"Mm," you affirm, "I do."

"A lot?"

You shrug at the question, not sure why he's pressing it, "Sure, Lan."

"Then why do you travel with Oscar?", you spare a glance at him, he's fiddling with a bracelet on his wrist, the one you'd made him that matched the one you'd made Oscar that matched the one you wore, "Don't you want to, y'know, settle down here?"

You raise an eyebrow, scoff a little, "God, I'm not an old maid, dude. I'm not ready to pop out babies yet. Far out."

"No, no," he's blushing, you know he is, you don't even need to check, his tan cheeks growing a little darker, redder, "Fuck. That's not what I meant. You know what I meant."

You snicker. You do. But Lando is fun to rile up.

A latent sigh leaves your mouth, "I dunno," you admit, "It's my favourite place. But I have the rest of my life to come back, and besides, it's more special like this. I appreciate it more when I'm only here for a short time."

Lando hums, turning your words over in his head. You think he may be about to say something else—

"Do you like it here, Lan?"

You're not sure why you ask. No, you are. There's this fantasy that keeps floating around in your head. Little bits of it have been coming true on this trip. Lando standing in the garage with your Dad, talking about project cars and then showing him grease covered parts, explaining where they'll eventually end up. Your Mum roping you, Lando and Oscar into helping her cut vegetables at the kitchen counter. Your younger sisters giving you loaded looks behind Lando's back, you trying to pretend you have no idea what they mean by them. It's a pipedream, it's weird and you need to stop doing it.

But you can't. Sometimes, you look at Lando and your thoughts just pick up and run away with themselves.

Lando nods in answer to your question, "'Course. It's very," he trails off, fingers finding the beads on his bracelet again, he hums, "It's very you. Hm, does that make sense?"

You feel warm all of a sudden. Something creeps up your neck, settles at the base of your skull. You blink a few times, remind yourself to focus on the road.

You skitter out a laugh, an awkward thing, you're trying not to look at him, your hands tight on the wheel, "Yeah— uh— it does. I s'pose."

You lapse into silence for a short while. The sky is eggshell orange and purple and red, stretching out in front of you. Punctuated by the star-brightness of the street lights, terracotta tiled roofs and the shadowed branches of towering Eucalyptus trees. It fills you with a feeling you can't name— there's nothing else quite like it out there. Not in London, not in Monaco, not in any of the many other cities you've traveled to or lived in for a stint.

They're all gorgeous and interesting in their own right, but they don't live up to the special peculiarities of suburban Australia. The flash of a possum's eyes where it's skittering across a powerline. The faint sounds of kookaburras laughing as dusk falls. The glow of families watching TV in living rooms coming through screen doors left unlocked. Old men tinkering in wide open garages. Wheelie bins with red and yellow lids out on the curb— cricket stumps painted on the sides.

It’s special. In the way that home is always special.

Then Lando says, apropos of nothing, “Pretty.”

“Huh.”

He shrugs, gestures around at the neighbourhood, “It’s pretty. Warm too. I can see why your parents live here. Raised you guys here. I can see myself doing that.”

You decide not to tell him about the bipolarity of Melbourne weather. Cold to hot to wet to dry to gusty all in a few hours. You let him enjoy the rare consistent spring day. And you try not think about what he’s saying, what he’s admitting. You try not to think about what you might be admitting, driving him through streets you used to play in, to places you used to go with your family, talking about settling down, like it’s on the horizon anytime soon.

It’s not— you’ve not met anyone to settle down with.

At least you don’t think you have.

It’s certainly not Lando, in the passenger seat of the old family car, fresh off a day of meeting your grandparents for fuckssake and taking a tour of your childhood bedroom. Laughing at your old boyband posters and the teenage girl shrine you’d kept to Niki Lauda. It can’t be Lando, who you turn to when you can’t turn to your brother, who gives you his hoodies when you’re cold even though he’s colder, who’s come on a bloody trip to Australia in his four week break because you’d said you wouldn’t know what to do without him for that long.

It can’t. It’s not.

He’s talking in hypotheticals and you’re getting carried away with yourself again. Like you always do.

listened to this playlist while writing😌

#lando norris x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #oneshots:ln4

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quickstappen · 7 months

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track 004: love, where are you?

A/N: i am so sorry, i know it's late, but college sucks (im juggling learning 3 languages at once - filology students am i right??) and my job also sucks (i don't recommend editing photos honestly) - but here we are, again, twitter heavy, i swear the plot is coming :)) also - ignore the dates, 'm too lazy to change them

A/N 2: previous parts of this series have been edited! most notable - Marci's a Ferrari employee, not Redbull like before

masterlist | previous next

liked by marcilazzaro1, sarah_scott and others

clairobernie_x a natural progression of the night (italians sure knows how to party)

see all comments...

sarah_scott when is my invite coming? i wanna party with you too

↳ clairobernie_x gotta get the connections first babe

↳ sarah_scott well, can't really get with pierre, my boyfriend would definitely mind

↳ clairobernie_x yeah, fair lol

↳ marcilazzaro1 you're invited next year, how about that?

↳ sarah_scott lovely stuff 🥰

shithappens is that... marci? flashing someone? i'm in love

ilpredestinatox jesus i love this duo

quickstappen the annual media team party!!

marcilazzaro1 remind me to never drink with you again

↳ clairobernie_x you loved it

zoebryne_x how are y'all so hot

marcilazzaro1 posted a story!

2 MONTHS LATER

liked by mickschumacher, charles_leclerc and others

brunolazzaro_03 welcome to crisis-ville, sarah_scott this is entirely your fault

tagged: marcilazzaro1, federrere

(this is a private account, you cannot reply to this post)

see all comments...

charles_leclerc oh god, straight from the bottle? what did you do to this woman

↳ brunolazzaro03 trust me, this isn't even her lowest moment from this month

↳ marcilazzaro1 dude?? stop exposing me

↳ brunolazzaro03 or what.

↳ marcilazzaro1 i have tonio's phone number

↳ brunolazzaro03 YOU WOULDN'T DARE

↳ charles_leclerc do i even wanna know who tonio is?

↳ marcilazzaro1 his boyfriend ;)

↳ brunolazzaro03 HE'S NOT

sarah_scott i deny all my involvement in this crisis

↳ marcilazzaro1 of course you do

↳ sarah_scott hey! i only gave you an idea, not tell you to spiral

mickschumacher is she like... okay?

↳ brunolazzaro03 first off, has she ever been?

↳ mickschumacher true

↳ marcilazzaro1 catching strays left and right in my own home, unbelievable

lance_stroll remember to hydrate or whatever

↳ marcilazzaro1 i am

↳ lance_stroll with WATER

↳ marcilazzaro1 didn't jesus turn water into wine?

↳ lance_stroll you are hopeless

federrere hey what the fuck, that's my shirt??

↳ marcilazzaro1 well, i have news for you then

Marci's messages:

S: Mick showed me Bruno's post

S: Are you okay?

M: Yeah, I'm good, just...

M: A lot of things on my mind I guess.

S: Yeah, I get that. If you ever need to run away my doors are always open.

M: I might take you up on that right before the preseason testing. Need to survive the trip with Lewis first tho, I have no idea what he has planned.

S: Good luck with that.

S: See you soon Marci.

4 MONTHS LATER

8 MONTHS LATER

nicolashamilton just posted a story!

madi's radio: just to note again, this series has been edited, i heavily suggest checking out the previous parts again, although you can probably work it out on its own too. thanks to @anthonykatebridgerton putting this idea in my head ;)

taglist: @sunny44 @rockyhayzkid @biancathecool @unluckyyoshi @woozarts @janeholt3 @celestialend @formulaal @d3kstar @yoremins @rd1410-blog @mess-is-my-aesthetic @callsignwidow @blaaahblubb @evans-dejong @lwstuff @emilyval1 @r0seandth0rns @fletchingarcher @blaaahblubb @notyaslol @dear-fifi @zimm04 @thewritingofspencerrose @elliegrey2803 @anthonykatebridgerton @firetruckstuckley @casperlikej @anephemeralwoe @vroomvroommuppett @taytaylala12 @kuskumu @clemswrld @bella-1 @leclercdream @evie-119 (xxx - couldn't tag you)

click here to be added to the carved my name taglist!

DISCLAIMER: i do not know anything about this people, this is not real life, this is just something for fun, i do not know anythings about their life or personalities!

#f1 #f1 smau #ferrari #for fun #max verstappen #alpine f1 #f1 instagram au #sebastian vettel #sv5 #pg10 #pierre gasly #pierre gasly smau #f1 social media au #ferrari f1 #lance stroll

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hecatemoon87 · 1 year

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This story will eventually involve smut. Minors DNI.

Chapter 1

It didn't take Johnny long to notice the gorgeous dark-haired woman coming and going from the bar where he and his biker club haunted. He was acquainted with the majority of the bar's patrons, but she was new and most importantly, different.

She was classy, elegant even. The women that frequented the bar were sexy and tough. And Johnny was very fond of them. But he suddenly found himself craving for something more...delicate.

The woman was slender and was always well dressed. Today, she wore a form fitting light blue office style dress with high heels. Her hips swayed lightly as she walked from behind the bar and toward the exit. As she slipped out the door, Johnny got up and followed.

The sun was just dipping below the horizon as he reached the parking lot. He scanned the cars and bikes, but did not see the woman. Until he heard a silvery, but even toned voice from behind him.

"Looking for someone?" she said, leaning against the outside wall facing the parking lot. He turned around and nodded. "Yeah, I was. And I think I found her."

He casually approached her, keeping a respectful distance and hooking his thumbs into his front pockets. The woman arched an eyebrow. He could tell she was slightly apprehensive of him.

"I'm Johnny," he said.

"I know," she replied.

"That so? And, uh, what's a classy dame like you doing around a joint like this?" he asked.

"Well, this joint is owned by my uncle. I don't think it's that bad," she said.

"You're Big Sal's niece? I mean no offense to Sal, but ain't no way a pretty thing like you is related to him," Johnny said, chuckling.

She shrugged, "Well, we are related."

"You said you know who I am?" he asked. Johnny was pretty sure everyone within a two hundred mile radius knew who he was. But he just wanted to know what she thought.

"Yes, you're Johnny, the leader of the Vandals," she said, her gaze dropping away from his. That little gesture indicated to Johnny that she was shy and it made his heart flutter all the more.

"Now, here you know my name and I don't know yours. I'm at a disadvantage don't you think?" he said, softly.

He slow closed the space between them and raised his right arm, resting the palm of his hand against the brick wall. He still allowed adequate space between them as to not spook her.

She glanced up again, her eyes were the color of deep honey, illuminated by the dying light of the day. Johnny swallowed hard, he definitely wanted to get to know her more.

She seemed hesitant in giving him her name, but finally said, "Amelia."

"Amelia," he said in his deep, husky voice. "That's a lovely name. So, Amelia, you're just visiting your ol' uncle Sal?"

"I'm assisting him with some accounting matters," she said, making Johnny laugh softly at how formal she spoke. Sal was a middle-aged Italian man, second generation, and was fairly foul mouthed. Johnny was certain Sal dropped out of school in the six grade, so the fact that his niece spoke so well amused him.

"Accounting matters, sounds very important," he said, leaning in just a bit more. He was now able to smell her perfume. It was subtle, but he detected a hint of vanilla and lavender. It made his chest rumble with approval.

She broke his gaze again, looking to the side, still resting against the wall. "I need to head home now," she said, softly.

"You got a ride?" he asked. She nodded, keeping her eyes cast down. He liked how long her eyelashes were, luscious and black against her cheeks.

"Yeah, but something is wrong with the engine, I'm waiting for my uncle to check it," she said, pointing over to a small, light green sedan that had seen better days.

"Mind if I take a look at it? I'd trust me over whatever your uncle Sal is capable of," Johnny said, walking over to her car. She followed him and watched as he popped the hood of the car.

"Start the engine, let's see what I'm working with," he said, waving her to the driver side of the car. Once she started the engine, a black smoke began to pour from the engine and a fill the parking lot. She shut the car off immediately and came back out to stand by his side.

Johnny looked at her in amazement. "How the hell have you been driving this thing?"

"It actually seems worse now," she said, innocently.

Johnny waved the remaining smoke away and took another look. He pulled out the oil wick and saw it was almost bone dry. "Sweetheart, when's the last time you had your oil changed?"

"Oil change?" she asked confused.

He shook his head in disbelief, this woman clearly had no idea about machines. "Just stay here a sec," he said, walking back into the bar. He walked back behind into Sal's office.

"You have a can of engine oil around here?" he asked Sal.

"Uh, yeah, in the supply closet, why?" Big Sal asked.

"Your niece doesn't have a clue about cars does she?" Johnny said.

"Nah, she's got book smarts, no idea about the other stuff," Sal said, rummaging around the supply closet.

With a can of oil in hand, Johnny returned to Amelia and filled her car with the oil. After he was done, he told her to start it again, and after the smoke settled, the car seemed situated.

Amelia got back out and walked over to him. "Um, thank you. I should probably learn a thing or two about cars," she said bashfully.

"You like bikes?" he asked, offhandedly.

"Oh, no...they're too fast and, um, dangerous," she said, shaking her pretty head.

"Yeah? Well, since I helped fix your car, why don't you repay me by going out on a date?"

Her doe eyes widened, and she appeared to be blushing. "Me?"

"Who else am I talking to?" he said, smiling.

"Um, well, I don't know...you're kinda..." she said, trying to find the words.

"Fast and dangerous?" he asked, coyly. "I think you'll change your mind after a good ride."

"Excuse me?" she asked, taken a back.

"About the motorcycle. Once you've had a good ride, you won't be able to get enough," he said, grinning smugly. He knew what he was saying, and he didn't mean the motorcycle.

#tom hardy #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy fanfic #tom hardy fan fic #tom hardy smut #johnny #the bikeriders

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42bakery · 4 days

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Re: https://www.tumblr.com/42bakery/760715378983911424/this-pecco-alex-thingy-has-kinda-reminded-me-of?source=share

(I'm the same anon and to clarify, it wasn't meant to be anti-anyone)

Also adding to what I said about what Michel Fabrizio said, I think it was so tasteless to use kids' deaths to say such things, especially when Maverick rides next ro Marc in the grid. But yeah, I'm worried about Misano because the whole thing is heated and we're going to spend 3 weeks there,the fault lies in the Box Official account which yes, I know is not officially from VR46 BUT, the account was followed by them (and TNT) and has over 70k followers (which is more than the attendance of Aragón)

What I heard a couple of journalists (admittedly I think Pecco mentioned it too) was that Alex didn't even look at him when going to race direction, that's what I meant about Alex telling him they would talk later in private which is something they did later(which, normal thing to do and the most mature I think). But yeah, Alex suffering by proxy is just, not fair. I think there's already much weight on his shoulders in terms of not being as good as Marc, which I'm sure Luca also suffers from (I don't think Pol did, tho,he was better than Aleix) but Lucia's position in the grid isn't as questioned as his (rn, he's on Honda hell) when he has 2 world championships. Again, there's a lot of riders who have one or none and who's status isn't as questioned. I remember when post-2015 Dorna announced that they were giving Jorge, Marc AND Alex bodyguards in Italy (which will surely make an appearance in Misano, like I'm sure Rodolfo is always booked as soon as the calendar comes out) and Alex shouldn't need one? He shouldn't be affected by what other riders IN A DIFFERENT CATEGORY do or don't do and it's just insane that death threats are being sent because two riders crashed. It makes me think of any time they crash Marc or Alex out, how they rarely complain about it. And I know a lot of people will say "well, it's because they, or at least Marc, do this all the time" and while yeah, that might be the reason, it doesn't mean that they can't complain when others do they same thing the same way other riders complain about them. It reminds me of when Jorge crashed Marc out of Valencia, how everyone and their mother, including Jorge at first, blamed Marc for it. And still to this day people blame him because if a Marquez is involved, it automatically has to be their fault. When Luca and Alex crashed... Who was at fault? Alex, even though he fell in the middle of the track and could've been ran over it wasn't about how good it was that nothing had happened, it was about Karma and whatever. Even when Zarco admitted to crashing Marc on purpose in Qatar las year to help Jorge, there wasn't as many people talking about that than about this. Hell, it was okay for Zarco to help Jorge but it isn't for Alex to help Marc (I do think he doesn't defend his position to him as strongly as he does others, but Marc also doesn't overtake Alex as aggressively as he does the other riders). When Pecco got the penalty by being slow in the racing like and ruining Alex' flying lap, people complained about Alex and Pecco threw him to the wolves before the press. So when Bradl did the same thing to Marc, he had to say that it was okay (and yeah of course is a bit different because Bradl was already dead last but still). While other riders blame their bike, Marc and Alex don't do so as much publicly and always try to take responsibility of it when they've made a mistake, like when Marc crashed in Austria. Like are they angels? No, but they're also not the monsters they make them out to be.

The reason why I said 2018 and not 2015 was that it was 2018 that Valentino said Marc was dangerous, which I think resonates for for this instance than 2015. Granted, they're doing the whole "a Marquez is helping a Spanish rider named Jorge win the championship against an Italian Valentino Rossi/ Rossi adjacent rider" thing saying that if Pecco loses it'll be Alex fault but Pecco has had some DNFs where he made mistakes and didn't get points.

About the 'rigging', what I heard is that Gigi sent one of his trusted engineers to help Marc with the set up and some people are interpreting Pecco's words that Marc "has something more [...] and that he does things that no other Ducati rider can do" as him saying that Marc has received factory pieces and factory help so that he would be the one to win in Aragon. Personally I interpreted it as the Ducati riders looking into Marc's data and having the same issues Pol, Joan, Cal or Bradl have had with him at Honda in which they didn't understand his data nor could they replicate his riding style without crashing (as said by them). He won because the set up was good from the start (it already was good in Austria) and the track conditions played into his unique abilities and also his experience with dirt tracks that allowed him to ride the Ducati by sliding the back kinda like he did with the Honda (which yes, other riders also do, but it is something they took up later in life while the Marquez brothers were groomed on the dirt track before the CEV and all that), and his beloved left handed corners.

Anyway IDK, I guess I'm upset because it's Misano coming up and I don't like how tense everything seems. Some journalists said it was 'spicy' but two riders being threatened is not spicy, it's deranged as hell.

Anyway sorry for the rant and my English, it's not my first language

Ups anon, I completely forgot about this ask. I saw it at work and I thought to answer it later, but then I didn’t and somehow my inbox got filled by other stuff and then I just forgot. So I’m sorry I’ answering this so damn late.

First of all, your English is okay, and I don’t think there is a lot of people who have English as their first language. As far as I witnessed, there’s a lot of Italians, from the South-East of Asia and then Brits and USA (and like 3 to 5 Spanish native speakers 😭).

Sorry for accusing you of being a hater, but lot of haters did that. They start to say something, and then turn around and throw that people under the bus and I though that was what you were doing to Marc. So, I’m sorry if I didn’t really understand it. My mistake and I apology for it.

Anon, I think you need to change the content you follow on social media. I mean it, you clearly follow some anti-Márquez and pro-Rossi, and that clearly is twisting the perspective. Also the VR46 is like a cult, it moves lot of people, and what unites them is their love for Vale and their hate to Marc (and Álex) and Uccio is probably their leader with Bezz and Pecco at the front.

I can understand not wanting to talk and not looking to the riders just after the accident, even not the same time, but that never allows the other rider to do what Pecco did. I'm more on Álex side, calm down and talk later only us because the race direction won't do anything to penalize a top rider, so better soleve this things in privat, but alas someone was very against it and points fingers and scream into the media.

because Misano has pass, we can know say that this really didn't help, Italy still gets Marc, and Pecco gave them a reason to boo and be assholes. I hope that their behaviour changes for the Emilia-Romagna GP, but I doubt it.

Okay if Zarco really crashed into Marc because Ducati told them, it shows 1) Ducati are assholes and need to be banned and 2) Zarco is a dangerous rider for even entertain the idea. If someone tells you to crash into another rider, you say no and then repot them. Motorcycling i dangerous enough to add that. Every crash, no matter how big it is, can end in disaster, and for Zarco to do that, he lost every bit of credibility he ever had. Hell he can go straight to hell or the equivalent of it in any religion. A rider like that has no space in MotoGP (or any mortoracing series).

If Pecco loses, he will take the recipts and also blame Marc for the incident in Portugal, which was also a similar incident and his own fault. Pecco doesn't know how to porperly fight in a clean way and is always cutting other's riders lines. And I'm not saying this because I'm not his fan, just look when he fights with any rider, like Jorge, the other rider is the one that cuts to avoid the contact, and when that doesn't happen, there's a crash. This also happened with Binder, and he was quick to try and throw him under the bus and ask a penalty, but I think it was the media who said if Binder gets a penalty so does Bagnaia in Portugal because both actions are the same. And same here. Bagnaia cuts the line and makes the first conctant. Álex loses the bike and crashes. had Pecco given him more space, this wouldn't had happen. Apparently is always about who couls have avoided it, and for me it's 60-65% Pecco and 35-40%Álex. Whereas in Portugal it was more of a 50-50% situation.

I didn't know Gigi was keeping a close eye, but makes sense because this year Ducati is doing things differently. This year riders don't have the full bike until Valencia 2024, whereas other year they give the final one to use for the whole year. I though Ducati was doing that to compare Marc with Pecco's and Jorge's data and see if he was good enough for the Factory team, and he has proven himself. And the reason he's doing things no other rider is doing is because when conditions neutralize the bike, it's all on the riders hand, and Marc is THE best one out there, and he has proven it over and over again. And I think at this point Marc is not relying so much on the past dara and set ups and is focussing more on himself and what he needs, so basically showing Ducati the middle finger and doing his own thing

Sure Marc got Factory help and factory pieces, but so does Bagnaia, Álex, Bezz and every other rider. Bagnaia is just throwing a tantrum because he can't win against Marc in the same conditions. I'm sorry, but I'm sure he will be this insufferable for the next 2 years.

Again, I'm sorry I took me this long to answer this

#Ask #Anon's tag #MotoGP #Anti-Bagnaia

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carbo-ships · 2 years

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Etere: Chapter I

Oh, gosh, no, I'm doing this. Okay. This is, yeah, it's Aether, like I said I wouldn't do, even a little bit. Yes it says Chapter I, yes there's more, don't look at me.

Content warning for canon-typical misuse of Catholicism. I am not Catholic. This is all wrong. I've made it so much worse. I'm sorry. There's also like, some really, really poorly translated Italian. I also do not speak Italian. This is a mess. Look upon my shame with caution.

The story of Job had been the inspiration — take one of the Lord's best and test them. There was precedent for a devout human to stand his ground against the forces of evil. But an angel resisting the temptation of demons? That would be interesting.

It need not be a particularly high-ranking angel. In fact, it was better it wasn't. Any angel would do. Hell, however, would not be a suitable location. The Principalities refused to let one of their own set foot in such a place. Earth was the only solution. But Earth was a very big place.

They supposed they should consider which demon, or demons, might be suitable challengers. It ought to be ones familiar with Earth — waiting for the demons to get accustomed to the terrain would only needlessly draw out the experiment. The problem was that most demons who physically inhabited the world of the living weren't particularly organized. Most recklessly haunted old buildings or wreaked havoc through possessions, and were regularly overcome by mere humans. Although far from average, it became clear that the only demons built for the task were those serving under Papa Emeritus IV. Those seven ghouls were the only ones reliable enough to be trusted with such an assignment. Each side liked their odds. The church was contacted, details were discussed, and an agreement was made.

The topic of which angel should be tested resurfaced. It shouldn't be a man — they'd done that last time. Besides, the archangels were eager to try again after the Eve incident. It was the 21st century, after all, and women ought to have another go at it. For simplicity, she should be an angel who had also spent a considerable amount of time on Earth. This, again, significantly narrowed down the subject pool. After much consideration, an angel named Ardis was selected. She was, by all accounts, perfectly average.

Ardis was summoned to the ghouls' cathedral three days before the two-month experiment was to start. Her higher-ups had accompanied her to ensure the location and their opponents were acceptable. Papa Emeritus IV, who quickly insisted upon just being called “Papa”, and the seven ghouls who worked in the church were in attendance. Ardis had never seen such spirits before. They were dressed in all black and each sported a silver, horned mask with small cut-outs for the eyes and mouth. She tried not to stare at their long tails, but her eyes kept flickering to them as Papa and her superiors discussed the details. She did her best to focus on their faces for the sake of being polite and discovered she would likely have trouble telling them apart. She could differentiate between the two women easily enough – one was slimmer and taller than the other. But as for the five men? Three of them looked identical. Heaven help her. Thankfully, one of them had the courtesy to be much taller than everyone else, and another was clearly rather muscular, even through all the layers of black fabric. She could feel herself staring. His eyes were hidden behind the shadows cast by his mask, so she couldn’t tell if she’d been caught admiring his broad shoulders. It was best not to test her luck and focus her gaze solely on the strange man in the face paint for the time being.

It soon seemed that both sides were in agreement. Two months of temptation. The angels won if Ardis remained devout to her faith. The demons won if anything else happened. Tiebreaker of the ages. No pressure.

On the decided date, Ardis stood before the outer wall of the… monastery? Cathedral? She realized she wasn’t sure what they called this building. She was alone, carrying only a small suitcase full of her few belongings. Steeling her nerves, she knocked on the large door. She fidgeted with her hair while she waited. A moment later, the door opened to reveal the broad-shouldered ghoul she’d met a few days prior. “Ardis, was it?” he asked. She realized this was the first time she’d heard him speak. His voice was deeper than she expected, and she couldn’t quite place his accent.

“Yes, sir,” she said, nodding slightly.

The cut-out on his mask was just big enough to reveal a tiny smirk. “Welcome. Right this way.” He opened the door further and ushered her inside. She thanked him and stepped into the familiar garden. The grounds surrounding her new home were admittedly beautiful. Although the statues peppered throughout the large garden were a bit grotesque and unsettling, the space was very well maintained. She admired her surroundings as she followed him towards the building. There was a thick evergreen forest just beyond the opposite stone wall. Perhaps it was just an effect of the soon-to-be-setting sun, but something about that dense wood made her uneasy. Aether must have caught her gaze lingering past the wall and interrupted her thoughts with, “I would stay out of that forest if I were you. There is nothing for you in there. And do try to stay within the grounds after nightfall.”

She hummed in acknowledgement. Some questions were better left unanswered. She was perfectly happy not knowing what lurked in the dark. She turned her attention to the building before her. It too was made of stone and featured many colorful stained-glass windows. She couldn’t quite make out the designs from the angle she was at, and made a mental note to examine them later as the ghoul pushed open the front door.

The man in the face paint—Papa, she remembered—was chatting with the remaining ghouls in the foyer when she entered the building. Lanterns lined the marble walls, casting shimmering lights up to the tall, arched ceilings. She felt a shiver run up her spine when her guide shut the door shut behind her, the sound of it echoing through the hall. This was it. Her two months had officially begun.

Papa stopped and turned around to greet them. “Allora, there she is. Ardis, yes?”

“Yes, sir,” Ardis said with a polite nod as the group all gathered around. The ghoul she’d been following joined his peers.

“Wonderful, wonderful, yes, welcome,” Papa said, clapping his gloved hands together. He was dressed in his papal gown this time—it was Sunday, after all. The ghouls were whispering amongst themselves. Some seemed curious, while others clearly already had mischievous thoughts running through their heads. A few tails twitched excitedly. “I am glad you have made it here safely. You are just in time for the liturgy. As I am sure you can imagine, we are very excited to have you, little one.”

Ardis was very quickly starting to feel like prey, but did her best to put on a brave face. She’d never had a negative interaction with them during their brief encounters, but they were on opposite sides of an eternal battle. They all knew why she was there, but only her hosts knew what was in store for her.

"Our angel will be staying with, ehm, what did we decide... Ah, yes, Aether should be a fine match, sì?" The strange pope indicated toward the group of ghouls and the man who let her in flashed a playful toothy grin. She’d never noticed his fangs before and paled slightly. "Yes, you will bunk with Aether during your time with us.”

She simply nodded, trying to hide her surprise that she'd be sharing a room with one of the ghouls — and one of the male ones, at that. Although she supposed he seemed like one of the calmest of the bunch, so it certainly could have been worse. Some of the shorter ghouls seemed particularly rambunctious in a way that made her rather nervous.

“Oh, I suppose introductions are in order, yes?” Papa turned the floor over to the masked ghouls so each could introduce themself. First, there was Aether, whom Ardis had just met. Then was a man named Sodo, who seemed to be the shortest of the men. That was the one who made her a bit nervous for reasons she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Next was a ghoul named Rain, whom she was certain she would mix up with Sodo constantly. Mountain, conveniently, was clearly the tallest of the bunch. That one was easy. Swiss seemed equally as rambunctious as Sodo, but wasn’t quite as petite. Then Cirrus was the taller of the two women, and Cumulus was the shorter of the pair. Goodness, this was going to be tricky, especially between Sodo, Rain, and Swiss.

“It’s nice to meet you all. I apologize if it takes me a while to get your names right,” Ardis said timidly.

“Oh, it’s alright, dear,” Cirrus—was that Cirrus? Yes, definitely Cirrus—said with a warm laugh. “We know it can be hard with the masks.”

Ardis gave her a grateful smile. She knew they were likely just trying to lower her defences by making her feel comfortable, but… Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad.

"Mass will begin soon,” Papa continued, “then it is time for dinner, and then the rest of the evening is yours to spend how you wish. We can give you a proper tour in the morning. Aether, take her bag to your room for her, will you? We will meet you in the sanctuary.”

Next: Chapter II

#etere #that's my crush tag for him so i can be organized #it's just aether in italian #carbo writes

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tay0la · 1 year

Text

Eurovision 23

As always me sharing my thoughts about the final Eurovision songs. Although no one asked me about it.🥰

Austria

It's a fan favourite. I do enjoy it but the staging was a bit off? Also, I don't know if the colours (black, red, white) were good ones to take.

Still very catchy. ✒/10

Portugal

So happy they made to the final. Would have been a great opening, I suppose.

💃/10

Switzerland

I listened to the German cover of it and that lifted my expectations for the original. Unfortunately, my expectations were not reached. Still ok.

Therefore: 🔫/10.

Poland

Every country that ends up behind them in the final deserves a hug. 🫂

🤡/10

Serbia

Not my cup of tea but appreciated.

🎮/10

France

French flag in the background. Is that fine?

🇨🇵/10

Cyprus

Personally, I like the song. Not that original but professional. He has a great voice. & Greece has someone to vote for. :)

💔/10

Spain

She's an angel. Or maybe I'm just bi. Love the song. Spain really delivered.

7/10

Sweden

Loreen is back but it's the ✨typically✨ swedish song and not better than Euphoria. But I love to see her again.

💅/10

Albania

It's good. I like the family power.

🇦🇱/10

Italy

Another comeback.🥰 The clip that had been shown at the semifinal didn't really catch me but at least it is in Italian.

5/10

Estonia

This is my surprise qualifier. It seems to be so flat. But I would love to have a self playing piano too. Maybe I am just jealous because she has one.

🎹/10

Finland

OHHH MY GOD AN ABSOLUTE BANGER. I like it.

🐸/10

Czechia

YAAAAASSSS. Love it Love it Love it. Love the energy, love the song, love the clothes I don't know what they're singing.

👯‍♀️👯‍♀️👯‍♀️/10

Australia

100% one of the best performances in the second semifinal.

🚘/10

Belgium

SOME GROOVE. KILLED IT WITH THE DANCING.

🕺/10

Armenia

Why isn't the full song in Armenian? I feel like there was a lot going on during the performance, which didn't help the song, but it's fine.

5/10

Moldova

A comeback. Woooohooo. Kidding. Love the energy. Although nothing beats last year's performance/song.

⚜/10

Ukraine

The duo is so cool. The song is a bit ordinary but maybe that's because Ukraine delivered absolute bangers for the past years.

🤍/10

Norway

Probably my most heard song of this year. Not that it is something HUGE but I do enjoy listen and dance weirdly to it.

👑/10

Germany

Not the worst big five entry this year. I like that they covered some songs and introduced the other acts on their Instagram account. Also the staging didn't look that bad

🩸/10

Lithuania

Their qualification surprised me, positively.

👀/10

Israel

??? The song is actually quite good but what was that staging ???

🦄/10

Slovenia

🥰/10

Croatia

I have no idea what is going on and to be honest, I feel like I don't have to know it.

🚀/10

United Kingdom

Yeah.

🎶/10

What's left to say:

I really don't know what I should think about the "rest of the world" voting

Hope Ukraine will be able to host the contest in the future. Alone. In their country.

Welcome back, Luxembourg. 😊

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th0mblr · 1 year

Text

Writing concept

Hero and villain battle for about 15 minutes before the villain is floored by a suspiciously light punch hero snaps " okay what the hell was that , I watched you lift a boulder with one hand yesterday how did that take you out " , villain is a poor attempt to sound in pain retorts " avast great hero you must have grown far stronger since we last met ".

"Bullshit " spits the hero " you took a dive , have you been fake fighting me this whole time ?.

Villain wails dramatically about how hero must have found their one true weakness, " come closer great vanquisher that I might share my dying words ".

Hero knows something is off but there's a crowd and the crowd loves it when there's a noble stooge too pure to be cynical about a dying wish. Hero kneels down and listens close, Villains eyes sharpen , Their voice hush and brittle " there's a bar two blocks down from here meet me there out of costume in half an hour I'll explain everything". Before hero can react further there's a flash of smoke and villain is gone.

"Another escape, the same escape, villain loses every fight has every plan foiled except the escape" thinks hero half mumbling whilst more thoughts twist and contort their mind...

The bar was dirty, dark and all but empty save for a drink , a villain and a bartender who knew better than to look his patrons in the eye. The beer was an Italian import , cheap if you know where to look but hard to find in this part of town, a fine sight in an otherwise gloomy room.

The front door opens, footsteps are heard the barkeep stifles a wince as bargain lemonade is poured into a glass of fine scotch with a cocktail umbrella. Despicable but paid for and that's as far as his business reaches.

"You know I wasn't always a villain "starts villain " I was just a regular person living a regular life, I had a regular car a regular job and a regular amount of debt for someone who thought an art degree was a prudent career move. Sure you could say I had enough to get by, but yknow enough.."--villain pauses to Finnish Thier drink only to have it immediately replaced without a word spoken, villain smiles says " yeah I'm a regular, anyway the thing is , the thing is that enough wasn't really enough. Because enough wasn't what I wanted it was what I had and I needed to want stuff to justify living such a regular life. So I wanted more than enough I wanted excess. And for a while it was just a want, same as any musing desire until I found someones wallet and it was full of cash like cartoon full , the wallet itself must have cost more than I'd be paid in a year. I could have returned it or handed it in to some pig or other but I didn't. I had in my hand a proof that if I made the wrong choice Id have more than I'd ever had before.

Hero begins to interject but is met with frantic shushing " sshhhsh now now I know stealing is wrong and all that but that was my point, I could do the wrong thing and I'd be more successful than I was doing the regular thing" Hero scowls and loudly slorps their whiskey lemonade promting a shudder from the barkeep. Unperturbed villain continues " now I took this realisation and ran with it I did every white collar crime in the book I pretended to get whiplash after an accident I started pushing sales on the elderly by pretending to be their concerned children I embezzled enough cash to buy an island, when I got caught I moved money to a swiss bank and pointed blame at the janitor. And you know what it all got me ?"

" I'm assuming 2-3 years in a jail cell and blacklisted from working In thus town again" mused hero.

"nope I got a slap on the wrist for pointing Inside the company kept a swiss bank account full of cash and found myself head of the department within a month.

From this I grew to realise something very being an utter shitheel of a human being works too well. I had everything I wanted and everything I needed except to want something. And then I heard about the janitors suicide and how my actions that caused it were rewarded Instead of punished and I took to wondering why it was.

It's because I had power by that point, because no matter what I did my actions were never more than a lawyer or bribe away from being legal making me utterly untouchable. And I tell you something that kinda truth had me feeling so lonely and like all lonely people I found a bar. And like all lonely people in a bar I had an idea , SHOTS!"

The barkeep slams a wooden board down and lays a half dozen crystal cups out in a row filling each with something that smelled like a mix between tequila and lighter fluid which in all honesty might have been exactly what it was.

Villain" so here we arrive at the point, I'm in this bar and I see this newspaper about some kid getting his ass kicked trying to stop a mugging take a drink with me if you recognise the kids face" villain slides an old scrap of paper from thier pocket across the table and sure enough two shotglasses hit the board upside down .

Hero" I can't believe I really used to do this without a mask on , god damn that was stupid I got fired for that next day"

Villain laughing " yeah it was the single dumbest thing I'd ever seen there you are trying to convince people that good wins over evil and all that crap meanwhile I was here evil triumph coming out of my ass, but you believed it right, the shit you were saying?"

Hero " yeah of course someone has to go out and be the good guy "

Villain "not really there's actually plenty of wannabe comic book heroes out there though most of them get well ..." Two more glasses hit the wood , hero and villain grimace and hero wonders if this is what passes for the barkeep's revenge.

Villain " so what you need isn't another hero but a villain who won't kill you out of convenience"

Hero" so you WERE faking it this whole time, to what make a fool of of me like some sad joke ?! You foul crook how could you ?! Hero's speech slurred a little before they giggle and grab another glass villain does the same both motion a bottoms up , hero us crying a little.

Villain " actually no I wanted people to see you win I wanted other people to see you do the right thing and succeed , so I played along gave you plans to foil paid a few actors to pretend they need saving, you needed people to see you as a hero and so did I.

Anyways cheers "both down their last shot the room swirls and spins hero begins to say something about poison before villain walks away saying " well kinda"

...

Hero wakes up in their apartment and the sun is bright through their blinds and their mouth tastes like ash and possibly an old cheeseburger on their desk they see a small pile of francs .

#writing ideas #hero villain prompt #not normally what i do but im trying new things #bartender

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incorrectzbone · 1 year

Note

Don't worry, stalk me as much as you want (that's what I usually do anyways) 😗 I'm so far from being hot or sexy (I'm the complete opposite) so I don't know how much of that is actually accurate. I've had latin on my last year of high school (I can't remember if greek was an option for the next two grades but I do know that they went to Italy in the previous years, I'm guessing they didn't keep it though. I couldn't have gone anyways 🥲), I was 15-16 at the time, now I'm 21, It's been a while and I don't really remember a thing (I usually say the same thing about french but I still know a few things, so I guess latin was harder). But guess what! Italian has been on my "languages I'd want to learn" for YEARS. I don't know Bonnie, this looks like some destiny shit over here 👀

I'm kinda wanting to write something with Ricky Vincenzo now. That will most likely never happen because I suck at writing 🥰 AND YES OMG RICKY AMBASSADOR! *insert fashion brands that I don't really know because I actually am "young and poor, short and ugly, moon boss baby Luna"* He would always look so good, he was born for this 🤩

(Now that I've said Luna, how do you say moon in italian?? 👀)

Ummmm hello? You're pisces as well?? That's it, I'm asking Ricky for the rings. What flowers do you want? He'll do everything you want for the wedding. btw are you sure about the dms?? not only asking because i'm really bad at making up conversations and keeping them, but also because you said that thing about this being your side blog and i assumed you didn't really wanna make your main known if that makes sense??

P.s. I'm talking about Vincenzo as if I had already watched all the episodes, but I think I left it half way through?? I have to go back and go insane over Vincenzo himself again 😳

😭 I had to take latin classes at that age as well and am now 22 so I totally get you: I simply can’t remember anything. It’s hard. Way too hard 😭 OMG LET’S TEACH EACH OTHER SPANISH AND ITALIAN (I say, as if I have the time to actually learn something outside of college stuff 😍 </3).

I still haven’t read anything from you, but I will, so please write Ricky with the Vincenzo concept for my mental stability 💖🖇️💖🖇️💖🖇️ OMG YES LET THE MAN SHOW HIS FASHION KNOWLEDGE!!!

(it’s actually “LUNA” in italian !! i guess italian and spanish are similar omg)

I LIKE EVERY KIND OF FLOWER 🌺 SO YEAH SINCE HE’S RICH LET HIM GET AS MANY FLOWERS AS IT’S POSSIBLE 😉🤍

I have to rewatch Vincenzo as well, it’s been too long and I can’t really remember it that well (also, the actors >>>>)

i’m totally fine with the dms !! my main is a new account i’ve made (actually, it’s a main with a different email from another main that i use on my pc and that has nothing to do with zb1 😭 i lost my old kpop one cause i rarely used tumblr for it !!) and i don’t really care about it being known tbh, i just wanted to keep it separate from this account lol (i also am not a great conversation keeper — taylor swift gets me — so please don’t worry about it! i know how it feels 💖💌) i actually followed you with my main but was too shy to tell you it was me 😭 that being said, if you’re comfortable here is my new main: @taeraeszone , but please feel free to also not text me if you don’t feel like it! i’m okay with communicating like this as well <3 whatever you want, i’m here for it !!

#💌 incorrectbox

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leclerqued · 2 years

Note

I said it yesterday, Seb’s quotes were going to be the inspiration for this Monday Motivation. Mainly because I strongly believe that if we keep talking about Seb as a human, he is never leaving us for real. Yes, I am in denial and it hasn’t sunk in yet. I wanted to make a whole Daniel/Mick/Seb/Nicky Monday Motivation… but now I think I’ll shine a little spotlight on these beautiful quotes.

Yesterday I saw a TikTok that said ‘only six more weeks till 2023’ and normally it would give me the biggest rush of anxiety. “SIX WEEKS? But I haven’t achieved a whole lot and there is so little time…” But this year I am taking a different approach. Instead of just looking at the big things (like working for a company I loved, getting back on track with making myself healthier and of course getting my bachelor diploma last week), I am looking at all the small things that in hindsight made a big difference for my happiness and I want to ask you to do the same. I would love to hear the small things that made your January till November happier! 🧡

Here’s a small list of mine: I got closer with my friends since high school, I met new people and became close with them, I started doing these Monday Motivations and we became closer, I went on small little trips that are now big memories, I put myself out there and started this dating journey, I went to more concerts in a year than I’ve ever done, I started to take more pictures (no… I am not starting a babette.jpg even though I do think I could run a good account), I’ve seen more F1 cars in a year than I’ve ever done and most importantly I chose myself countless of times.

So, am I gonna give you a piece of homework this week? Yeah, I am! Write that list! Sit yourself down and write/record/sketch/whatever else a list of moments. Little moments of happiness and positivity to combat the stress of this year almost coming to an end. And if you feel like sharing, I’m a nosy bitch so… send them my way 🥰

Have a great week! 🍀

Ahhhh happy Monday baby!

I'm really sorry I missed your message last week. I've been working on a project that I hope will be worth the effort and I've been sleeping an awful lot. I went to my psychiatrist because I was having trouble getting asleep (thus causing my exhaustion during the day) so she adjusted my meds a bit and now it's a tad better even to the feeling of tiredness never leaves.

I must admit, yesterday gave me a ton of anxiety and when that overwhelmed me, depression. I know most people look forward to the end of the season mostly because of all the drama, but I wish I had a race every couple of weeks to look forward to, just to keep me away from bad thoughts.

Strangely, Christian Horner said something that calmed me down a bit: 2023 begins this week. And although we have to wait 100 days till the lights go out again, I feel that this winter break will bring us good news.

Or at least I hope so.

I didn't want to let Dan, Mick and Seb go, but at the same time I wish for Dan to make a great comeback. And for Seb to look at the possibility to be a TP for a certain Italian team...

But now, let's go back to your message!

Loads of stuff has happened since January and you're right, I haven't been looking at the little things that happened along the way: I found a research project to cooperate on with a professor that seems to have found something special in me and wants me to graduate soon. He also texts me for races and we comment on them. It's fun.

I finally found professional people to help me through my mental issues, I'm on medication and in therapy and my therapist made me feel less lonely now that I'm back living with my parents. I managed to get a couple of exams done too, fighting through my depression.

I adopted a cat. She's the love of my life now.

I finally visited my best friend in the city she's now living in.

I went back to play videogames and liking it. And met a new friend along the way.

And ofc I spent all the races having fun with all of you ❤️

Thank you for sending these messages. I really appreciate them ❤️ hope you have a wonderful week.

#babssionate #lovely moots and where to find them

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thegeneralmuse · 6 months

Text

Her dog, Frida.

"I'm a human rights lawyer."

"Oh, that sounds nice. I used to be interested in that."

"In becoming a lawyer?"

"No, in human rights. I was a bit of a Marxist-Anarchist back in Pakistan."

"Oh. That sounds interesting."

"Yeah, it wasn't all that. But then I came here to study and for a better life. I chose myself."

"You say it like it's a bad thing."

"It is. I'm hiding behind Dad's money."

"Don't we all?"

"Doesn't make it right. I mean, I'm not that bad. I worked and supported myself for a long while ever since I was 17. My dad didn't have that much money to give. But then suddenly he got very rich. At much expense of the proletariat, I make no secrets about that. And his wealth helped me do what I do."

"Which is what?"

"I live as a vagrant poet. It's disgustingly bourgeoisie, my life. I know what a full-bodied wine tastes like. I stare off into the distance. I write poems when I feel like it."

"I'm terribly addicted to smoking. Do you mind if I take notes? That's just how I listen."

"No, not at all." I stopped to pet her dog, who was nuzzling into my legs. She said her name was Frida. "Named after Frida Kahlo?" "Yes. She's afraid of men, just so you know." And yet, she'd warmed up to me. I was stroking her ears. There was a lull in the conversation. We looked around ourselves, the people, the chatter in Italian, I noticed the glitter in her eyes, she explained it was for a dinner event tonight, I quickly figured she was one of those social people who make connections quickly and bring people together, flitting butterflies that show up at parties and seem to jump out of windows and disppear only to show up at another party again at the other end of town, I did not like these people, these connectors, they pick up connections just as quickly as they drop them, they remind me of old fashioned telephones, just when you've managed to get through, the connection drops, and yet, I was here, I was talking, maybe far too much, revealing more than I should've as I do whenever I begin talking, a professional yapper if you will, that's something for the DSM's next edition to take into account, they'll make everything a symptom if they could, hell, I'll make everything into a symptom if I could, yapping: indicative of not knowing one's boundaries, suggestive of trauma that belittled one's understanding of one's self, me, hell, I can't even tell where my mind begins and my body ends, I don't know if that spoon in front of me is distinct from my finger, I don't know if the thoughts in my head are any different from these words on paper, she was asking me something, well, yes, I'm a philosoper, of course I'll think things like this, what did she ask me, "Yes, I would love to join that dinner tonight, see you then," and we were walking and she had to go another way and I another and we said bye bye, I waved, said I'll see her, but we never did, not that day at least. I need to stop writing about every encounter I have.

#first encounter #first meeting #dog #frida kahlo

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editorandchief · 3 years

Text

Choice We Made | Bonnie Gold | Part II

Choices We Make | Masterlist

"So what did I miss?" You asked.

"Well there was a tense debate on a coin flip that if I recalled left us in between dad buying this yard or Mr. Shelby fucking Esmeralda." Bonnie recanted.

"Of course it was," you replied. "Money and sex that's what drives Tomas Shelby. I'm sure he would fuck a filly if he was tall enough." You laugh bringing a chuckle out of Bonnie and Aberama.

Later on you and Bonnie were tending to the horse when Tommy walked in and took a seat next to Aberama before pouring himself a drink.

"Fine beast this one.

"Nothing you see is for sale Mr. Shelby."

"You know your grandfather camped with mine for a while."

"Yeah didn't last."

"No it ended badly in a pub called the Winlock." Aberama informed. "We were own money, still are."

"Other than money and a scrap yard that's clearly not for sale what is it that you want from me Mr. Gold?" Tommy asked.

"How do you know I want anything from you?" Aberama asked in return.

"Well my company treasurer who is a certified accountant and also apparently a witch." Tommy answered.

"Your a sporting man"

"Yes I am."

"And a gambling man."

Aberama instructed Bonnie to take off his shirt, as he complained and began to shadow box in front of the two older men.

"What I want from you Mr. Shelby is for you to take a gamble on him, I want you to help my son achieve his ambition." He reveals

"What ambition might that be?" He asked.

Getting bored with the conversation you sigh and walk outside of the barn while they continued to talk about Bonnie's ambition. It's not that you didn't support Bonnie you were 100% behind him but a girl could only take so much business for one day.

After awhile you hear a voice from next to you.

"You've got a brother." Tommy states taking a drag from his cigarette. "Names Charlie."

You stand silent not acknowledging his presence.

"I'm sure he'd love to meet you." He states. "It's been two years."

Scoffing you move from your spot and start to walk back to the more populated part of the yard where the rest of the family was still finishing up they're meals and drinks.

"Y/N!" Tommy called following closely behind you. "You need to listen to me." He shouts drawling the attention of the other even Bonnie and Aberama rejoined from their previous occupation of the stables.

"Like hell I do." You finally spoke not slowing your stride at all.

"These Italians are after all of us." He states.

"All of you Shelby's." You clarify.

Catching up Tommy grabs you by the arm and turns you to face him. "And the last time I check your a Shelby too."

"Well check again." You replied snatching your arm from his grip. "I've not been a Shelby for quite sometime unless you've forgotten, I didn't get a black hand, I wasn't here when you did what ever you did that got your wife killed!...that got John killed."

"Nevertheless." Tommy said after a deep breath. "Any persons bearing the Shelby name, be it past or present will be accompanied by two blinders at all time and will until further notice reside in 6 Watery Lane."

"Go fuck yourself Tomas." You state before Turing around to continue on your way.

"That's enough!" Tommy suddenly shouts causing you to halt. "I've had enough Y/N."

"Yeah?!" You asked rhetorically storming back us to him. "Well so have I, I've had enough of your arrogance and demands. The same arrogance might I add that made you choose that Irish snitch over your own daughter...your own blood."

"Watch it." Tommy warns, however having no effect on you.

"That same arrogance that got her killed, it's got Danny wiz bang killed, it got John killed, honestly Tommy it's going to get you all killed eventually so I think the safest place for me is as far way from you as possible."

A hand placed itself on your shoulder causing you to whip around coming face to face with Bonnie, prompting you to relax.

"Come on dove I think you need to take a walk calm down a bit." He suggested wrapping his arm around you waist and leading you away.

"Can't we just go home Bon?" You asked.

“how about just for a walk first.” even though he phrased it as a question you knew there wasn’t any room to argue from the look on his face

“how's the talk go after my departure?” you asked as the two of you make your way down watery lane.

“great your da- I mean Mr. Shelby is gonna give me a chance.” bonnie stuttered slightly.

“its fine Bonnie, as much as I hate it he’s right.” you admit. “he is my father and I am still a Shelby.”

“for now dove.” he corrected. I can’t wait to make you Mrs. Gold.” Bonnie beams wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer as you continue to walk.

You, Bonnie, and Aberama walk into the Shelby warehouse closely following Tommy and Arthur. Tommy had contacted them with the offer of a fight for bonnie to ‘audition’ with Billy Milles.

you have heard of him from your childhood a boxer that apparently now worked in a steal factory.

“Mr. Shelby thank god your back, we’ve got real trouble.” a well dressed mam comes rushing up to tommy as we enter the factory floor.

“how many meeting do I have today?” Tommy asked not slowing his strides as the man falls into step along side if him.

“There's a supply from Coventry at 10, the covenanting of the boarder makers union at 11, and camber of convers at 1, but that’s not the thing.” he continues.

“right clear this space here, move this car back and get me a hundred feet of rope and a bell.” Tommy ordered.

“Rope?”

“yep, and a bell.” he confirmed.

“Mr. Shelby this place is about to explode.” he warns.

“Rope and a bell Devlin,” Tommy repeated ignoring the warning from ‘Devlin’. “Bonnie this way.” tommy called.

“Yes Mr. Shelby,” Devlin called. “By the way the revolutions scheduled to begin at noon.

staying with Aberama as Bonnie and Tommy went to meet his boxing opponent, watching as they quickly set up the makeshift boxing ring making you wonder how many times this had happened before.

“Your not worried are you?” Arthurs voices comes from beside you.

“Why would I be?” You scoffed knowing how well Bonnie fights and how much he wanted this, there is no way her would loose.

“Billy Mills he ain’t no joke,” Arthur stated. “You remember we used to take you to see him fight.”

“I remember Polly trying to knock John and your heads off when se found out you took me there.” You recall with a chuckle.

“Yeah, Billy Mills is nothing compared to Polly.” Arthur Joked.

“And Billy Mills is nothing compared to Bonnie.” Your replied. “Trust me.” you said.

“Well you know the Shelby way.” Arthur states. “Lets bet on it.” he yells out for the factory to hear.

“come on, place your bets here, I’ll give you good odds on the boy and even better on the big lad!” Your uncle announces as he paces the perimeter of the now finished ring stopping at each men who wanted to gamble money.

“For people with such little money,” you mutter coming to stand with Aberama as he helps Bonnie with his gloves. “They do seem very willing to bet it all on pop up boxing ring.” You finish reaching over for Bonnie’s hand and pulling the straps on his gloves making sure they were properly secured.

“Well of they’re betting on me they got nothing to worry about.” Bonnie smirked.

smiling brightly at your boyfriends confidence you ball your fist and kiss your knuckles before both Bonnie gently touches his gloves you your hands.

“Remember Bonnie in the pros people like to get they’re moneys worth, don't win too fast.” Aberama reminds the young boy.

Bonnie nods as the bell and the crowd roars he turns and faces his opponent.

The fight begins and Billy wastes no time in coming at Bonnie locked and loaded.

Bonnie blocks and dodges Billy’s punches and on occasion throws one or two as well.

“Your boy knows her can hit back right?” Arthur asks Aberama over the hordes of screaming men.

“i told him in the pros, people want they’re moneys worth, don’t win to fast.” Aberama replied. “But if you’ve seen enough. FINISH IT BONNIE!” He shouts to his son.

You had seen this plenty of times before as Bonnie advances onto the older man and starts to deliver blow after blow, it wasn’t long before Billy Mills was laid out in front of you and the three men.

“Well fuck me, the was a punch.” Arthur exclaimed. “What's he got horse shoes in those gloves?” He asked.

Ducking under the rope you wait as Bonnie finishes taking laps around the ring, calming down after the fight, coming towards you, as you begin helping him remove his gloves

“No, just his father’s strength and his mothers temper.” Aberama Answers.

“Does ha have fits?”

“No.”

“Asthma?”

“No.”

“How’s he cut?” Arthur Jumped in.

“Well no ones cut him yet, but his skins thick.” Aberama informed.

“Does he drink?”

“Porter..Sometimes.”

“How many fights?”

“25 bear knuckle all knock outs, 5 with gloves in pasters all knock outs.”

“Against romaine fights.”

“That's why they wont let us in the fairs anymore, he keeps winning.” You added.

“I could fight a fucking tree and knock it out Mr. Shelby.” Bonnie says as Aberama wraps his arm around him.

“I like him,” Arthur laughs looking at you. “I like him.”

“Mrs. Eden is waiting upstairs.” Devlin whispers to Tommy.

“I’ll be right there.” Tommy replies. “Arthur.” Tommy says gesturing for him to follow him away from the three.

“So what do you think Dove?” Bonnie asked.

“I think, Tommy Shelby never does anything for anyone that isn’t Tommy Shelby.” You state still eyeing your father and uncle a few feet away from you.

“We’re doing a service for Mr. Shelby and he is doing us one as well.” Aberama explains.

“Yes, but we’re getting paid for our service.” You rebuttal turning to face the two golds. “And Tommy will expect us to pay for this as well, i just hope the price isn’t too high.”

“Relax Dove,” Bonnie says placing his hands on your shoulders. “Nothing bad is going to happen to us, Okay?” Bonnie reassure looking into your eyes and waiting for confirmation.

“Okay. You answer returning the smile he was giving to you.

Tommy and Arthur finish talking making they’re way back inti the ring.

This was all Bonnie ever wanted since you met him and you wanted nothing more than for him to achieve his dreams, to help him with his dreams.

“So when do you think my first fight will be Mr. Shelby?” Bonnie asked.

“As soon as we can find anyone stupid enough to get into the ring with you.” Tommy replied. “Here you go Bonnie, your a Peaky Blinder no son.” Tommy states as Bonnie take the peaky hat from his pocket.

unsure Bonnie turns to Aberama who gives him a slight nod then turns to you, this is exactly what you were afraid of, Bonnie getting mixed up in anymore Blinder business than needed.

Despite your nerves and better judgment you also give Bonnie a nod of you false approval to the deal at hand.

“I would also like to add,” Tommy started. “That my daughter return to our home on Watery Lane.” He finished.

“What?” You shout at the subcontract.

“You Mr. Gold and your son have been contracted to protect and eliminate the current threats to the Shelby family.” Tommy starts. “Y/N is still my daughter therefor apart if the Shelby family.” He states matter-of-factly to Aberama.

“No. I’m not leaving Bonnie.” You shout.

“I’m sure if Bonnie likes you-.”

“Loves.” You and Bonnie both correct simultaneously.

“Then he would want what best for you, and what’s best for you right now is to be where you can be protected not with the man who is supposed to be hunting the very same enemy that wants you dead.” Your father explains.

“Maybe he right.” Bonnie agrees.

“He’s not right he’s manipulative, which is exactly what he’s doing to you.” You contradict. “I’ve been on plenty of jobs with you and nothing had ever happened.”

“But none of those men were after you.” Bonnie stressed.

“Fine.” You relent. “We’ll stay at Watery Lane.”

“We?” Your uncle asks.

“If you want me to stay there, Bonnie will be staying with me.”

“No, I’m paying the Golds to protect this family not so you and Bonnie can fuck in our house.” Tommy informs.

“What a lovely thing to say to your daughter.” your mocked. “But you seems you’ve taken my relay of information as a request for permission.” you smirked repeating the same words Tommy hand spoken to you the day you left the family.

Bonnie looks around sheepishly at the three older men fighting a smile as he dawns his brand new peaky hat.

Before anyone can object any farther you grab Bonnie’s hand and begin making your way to the factory exit pulling your boyfriend along the way as Arthur slips the money from the bets with Aberama.

“You really think your dad is gonna let us sleep in the same bed together under the same roof as him.” Bonnie asked letting go of your hand in favor of wrapping his around your shoulder.

“No,” You answer right away. “In fact he might try to kill you.” You half joked.

“Well, what a woman to die for.” Bonnie replied

#Peaky Blinders #Bonnie Gold #Tommy Shelby #Shelby!Reader #bonnie gold x reader #arthur shelby #Aberama Gold #Bonnie Shelby Imagine #peaky blinder imagine #masterlist #bonnie gold x shelby!reader #Tommy Shelby!Daughter #Bonnie Gold x Y/N

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janiedean · 3 years

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First off, I'm a HUGE fan of I'll be the frosting to your cupcake, one of the first fics I reread and a comfort fic staple of mine from the on.

Having said that, I recently learned English isnt your first language, and I'm shook. How do you write in such a flowy ample vocabulary precise english? Are you half British or sth? Have you live outside of Italy? What's your secret? What are your tips, please help a sister in need!

first of all thank you so much you're too kind ;v; and I'm really happy that it's been... ALMOST TEN YEARS and it still holds up ;v;

that said hahaha well I'M VERY HAPPY I HAVE SUCCESSFULLY MASTERED THE POWER OF NOT MAKING IT KNOWN ENGLISH IS NOT MY MOTHER TONGUE MUAHAHAH but in all seriousness:

no I'm not half british, my aunt was a high school english teacher but that was it and she definitely didn't speak english to me growing up beyond giving me the basics

no I haven't lived outside Italy just been on vacation in english speaking places so those two guesses aren't correct but

take into account that I'm 33 and I started learning english srsly when I was like twelve and I started writing in english when I was.... nineteen going on twenty so the way I write now is because I pretty much wrote in english nonstop since then, obviously whatever I wrote in 2007 had a worse vocabular/wasn't as good as it is now so count that a lot of that is practice

now basically i know it'll sound like ARE YOU SERIOUS but: I learned first translating songs by hand which meant I spent two years with a vocabulary translating bruce springsteen's and bon jovi's opera omnia that I had booklets for (YES THE INTERNET WAS ON 56K I HAD THE DAMNED LYRIC BOOKLETS RIP) and that.. I mean it didn't give me the widest vocab ever but it got me started, and then I jumped the bridge and started reading in english at.... eh I was 15 but like I got into stephen king, read a few of his books in italian, then got one I already had in italian in english for kicks and realized it... was better not translated so I swallowed the whole OH GOD I WON'T UNDERSTAND 1/5TH OF THE WORDS thing and went for it and like I can 100% assure you that if you get through the dark tower's second book and the indecent level of nyc slang in it you won't ever go back

(then being a masochist I went straight for steinbeck and if you manage the grapes of wrath at the level I was you're good X°D)

now like... that shows because every single time I take english tests like HOW DO YOU PRONOUNCE WORDS/WHAT IS YOUR WORDING CHOICE/WHAT DOES YOUR WRITING SOUND LIKE I without fail get as results that I pronounce like someone from new jersey/pennsylvania and I use words like someone from maine and that I read like king which... LIKE I LEARNED 95% OF MY ENGLISH on all of that so that makes sense

now the thing is after king I basically went like okay if that writer's english or writes in english I'm not checking the translations so basically I've read in english for twenty years and like... if you want to write you have to read and like I swear that when I was in high school I didn't need to open grammar books beyond the basics or actually study english at all bc having actually read stuff I like... having seen the word/expressions used on paper meant I knew how to use them so there was that but like the point is that if you read a lot your vocabulary automatically gets wider and if you see how published people you like write that helps you too because it gives you the background, makes you see how people break the rules etc

with this I mean... like you know everyone is like YOU HAVE TO WRITE SHORT SENTENCES IN ENGLISH UNLESS YOU'RE A CLASSICAL AUTHOR OR YOU'RE WRONG? okay like I always struggled with it bc I tend to be long-winded, then one day I ran into michael chabon who not only has the kind of refined vocab I can only dream of, but he also has no issue dropping six-lines long sentences (or a 12 pages stream of consciousness of a parrot without a dot bless him) and he won a pulitzer prize and while I am certainly not michael chabon and I can only dream of being 10% as good when it comes to that mix of craft, if he can do that then who stops me from six-lines sentences? yeah, no one XD

and I mean like... just to say one re how you re-elaborate things, the whole thing I do with using parentheses on another new line to say how characters are feeling or switch pov for a moment etc etc is a thing I absolutely lifted from king bc when I read him doing it I decided it was genius, but like at some point I started doubling or tripling the parentheses if I wanted to show what someone was thinking superficially and subconsciously which is a thing king doesn't do but at some point it happened and I liked it so I did it, and that's like the only conscious example I can give you but like you develop your style also based on what you like reading and what comes easy to you but that's things you find out through practice and again... if you like specific writers most likely it'll show up in your writing but that's fine everyone has their role models

also like... I personally don't gaf if supposed english tradition says I can't do something I'd do writing in italian ie abusing semicolons and long-winded sentences, like... if you're good at specific thing that your language allows and english doesn't don't gaf and write it in english anyway who cares

tldr the tips are: read a lot in english, consume a lot of media in english, practice a lot because you get better/get the hand of it with time (again if you read my lost fanfic on lj written in 2008-2011 it's nowhere near the same level as what I write now but not even the stuff I wrote in my spn days is at the level I am now etc), read a lot also in your own language or in any other you know, write as much as you can, if you feel like you're copying your favorite writer don't gaf and go ahead anyway at some point you'll sound like you and not like whoever your fave writer is and be constant because again 50% is reading a lot and 50% is practice, I know it sounds like the discovery of hot water but I swear I managed that without living anywhere else and only reading/writing/talking to people on the internet so... it does work X°D

#ask post #walterwitch #janie rants

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netscrape · 3 years

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the situation with my mom's older sister's grandkids is so frustrating my cousin is never around so my aunt and his ex end up tossing the kids back and forth but my aunt is crazy and will say horrible things to the kids and they will tell their mom who will call my aunt a selfish abusive bitch with hair as fake as her personality yada yada long ass scathing email and then she gets defensive ofc and my mom and grandma will talk about this like well the mom gets beat by their step dad but it's only with him for drugs so that means something i guess and bc the kid is always calling the cops for her etc she is naturally defensive it has probably "made her bipolar" so she's making things up and i couldn't help myself so i said maybe they're both right? and my mom's just like well yeah it probably does happen but no no no bc my sister loves those children and say what you want she isn't perfect but she is a Good Person! so again i can't help myself and i say maybe that is all true but she is still hurting them unintentionally because no one is all good or all evil and that's the problem that every person in this situation is failing to understand no one will take responsibility abd learn from their mistakes so these kids will just continue to suffer and my grandma is like sweetie you'll come to understand what Jesus believed which is that there is good and evil in this world and people must be held accountable and repent and im just like oh my God. this is a lost cause bc everyone involved is so incredibly far gone and it's just so depressing like how can you all be so dense more and more whenever I'm with my family i realize no offense they lack all critical thinking skills. but no actually scratch that this is just how Italians are, or smth. quirky

#that 12 year old abused child is bipolar and lying -_-?

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booksandlewks · 4 years

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Intensity in Insmire | A Jurdan AU

Happy Holidays to my wonderful knife wife @starborn-faerie-queen!! I’m so lucky to have you as my friend and now snusband (we’re def married now) <3 I was so excited to see that I got to try and write something for you. I also have to thank everybody in the @jurdannet discord for helping me with my writer’s anxiety throughout, and @jurdannetrevels for hosting this secret santa event!

So this was a prompt you didn’t ask for, but that I hope you will like. I thought of this right when I saw your name and have had a blast making it a reality. One of our first conversations in the discord was about none other than Lauren Layne, so I thought I’d give it my best go at making it Jurdan. I picked what I think of as the iconic scene in Passion on Park Avenue because Jude and Cardan literally define passion. You also put Nicaryn, so in my head when I wrote this they’re already dating and Jude just hasn’t noticed.

"Be careful, you're going to drop that!" Jude said watching her twin throw down yet another box full of her merchandise.

It was times like these that Jude wondered about her choice in friends. Not that she had so many choices in friends to begin with, something about her being "abrasive". People may not always appreciate her edges, but that edge is what landed her on the 30 under 30 list. She was grateful, if not confused, about her new-found friendships. While the ladies made for excellent company, and fellow schemers in action, a moving company they were not. Not that Jude would say a word against their help out loud. She was still so grateful to have her twin back in her life.

Jude would thank Locke for bringing them together, if she'd thought it was even remotely a part of his plan. Maybe she could thank him for dying, so that they could find each other in the park that fateful day. Not likely, she had better people to think on.

Nicasia kicked a box into the corner with the toe of her Louboutin heels, "You worry too much, they're not going to break because I didn't gingerly place every single one of your hundreds of boxes down."

"I'm not worried about you breaking an accessory," Jude said huffing as she moved to open the box Nicasia had kicked to prove a point. She held up the lipstick tube, twisting to expose the blade to prove her point. "I'm worried about one of my accessories breaking you."

"Oh, I like that," Taryn laughed, her eyes widening, "Can I borrow that for my next date?"

"Well, it is just a sample," Jude nodded her head to the truck parked outside her new building, "You can keep it if you help me unload the rest of the truck."

"You drive a tough bargain, a days labor in exchange for one accessory?" Nicasia teased.

Jude put one hand to her heart and the other to her forehead dramatically, "Oh you're truly suffering going up and down the elevator while carrying small boxes."

"These boots were not exactly made for walking Jude," Nicasia said flicking her hair over her shoulder, and punctuating it with an all too casual check of her nails. Why she wouldn't just concede to putting her hair up was beyond frustrating to Jude. She wasn't sure if she hated or respected Nicasia's commitment to always looking perfect.

"I mean I didn't get to where I was by giving things away for free, but I may have also ordered us pizza and tiramisu from the Italian place on Lexington Ave."

"Ahh I knew you were my favorite twin!" Taryn said wrapping her arms around Jude and kissing her cheek with an exaggerated smack.

"I'm your only twin, and you definitely did not know it."

"The real question isn't why I can't move things in these heels, it's why you think I should be doing this in the first place," Nicasia said glancing speculatively.

"Wait, yeah, aren't you meant to be rich now Jude?"

"Well, according to my accountant, approximately I am," Jude tilted her head and pretended to tally with her free hand, "filthy rich." She moved the box that had been hoisted on her hip onto the floor of what would be the main living area.

Jude wasn't insane, the larger items like the couch and industrial garment racks would be delivered by a moving company later. She just knew that she could handle the smaller boxes herself. She'd always survived by being self-sufficient, so she wasn't going to start changing what was working now. She'd moved herself into her first shoe box apartment, all her belongings compact and loaded into the back of her ancient little two door.

"Then why on earth are we moving all of this by hand?" Taryn said turning to her sister, exasperated to see the determination gracing her twin's face. She hated that look, especially when it was on the face that was practically her own under all that stubbornness. "Nic, I need backup here, we're entering dangerously uncharted areas in stupidity. "

"Jude, love, remember when we agreed to stop each other from entering another toxic relationship?" Nicasia said gently, her hands up as if coaxing a small animal.

"No, I've blocked out the entirety of Locke's funeral out of a sense of self-preservation," she said voice and face purposefully blank.

"Why stop there, why not erase him from your entire mind?" Taryn said a bitter edge to her words.

Jude laughed, "Me and my therapist are hard at work doing just that."

"Well while you're working on that, have her work on the toxic relationship you've got with your stupid pride," Nicasia said checking her already perfect nails.

"Wait, was all of that just the set up for the punchline to your dumb joke?"

"Woah Tar, harsh words from the woman who asked for my backup in the first place." Nicasia pursed her lips clearly displeased that Taryn had not enjoyed her attempts at humor. "Maybe you should try being nicer to me considering that I have the power to save you from Jude's torture."

Jude laughed as Taryn started to pester Nicasia to tell her what she meant. While they'd all become fast friends on the fateful day of the funeral, Jude couldn't help but feel that Nicasia and her twin had gotten closer over the summer. She supposed it had to do with the fact that they both had to worry about their reputations and what the fallout from Locke's infidelity would do to it.

That old wound started niggling at Jude again. She may not have been in an official New York society relationship with the man, but she'd had to mourn the loss too. She supposed it hadn't affected her societal standing, being Locke's dirty secret, but she hadn't gotten out unscathed. The bastard had known about her fears. She'd confided in him, about her mother's cheating and how she'd grown up not wanting to get attached for fear of ending up in a similarly messed up situation.

He'd comforted her, talking about how cheating on somebody wasn't in her character. He'd spelled out what their story could be instead, spinning a story of comfort, safety in his arms, and safety in that future. It made Jude's skin crawl to think about now. How he could say all of this while cheating on her with Nicasia and Taryn, and using her to cheat on them. Some nights it actually made her physically ill. She was such a careful woman, and yet she'd never suspected.

She wondered if lying to her was part of the game to him, it had to be. Jude thought about how she'd considered bridging the gap and calling Taryn to tell her that she'd met somebody. She'd been too scared to reopen that wound. At eighteen Jude walked away from the stifling role of being Madoc's daughter. She hadn't thought about what leaving Taryn behind to deal Madoc's only other eligible daughter would do. She left her behind for him to put all of his stupid high society rules and dreams into. She'd wondered about her twin over the years, but could never pick up the phone and just dial. What would things be like if she had? Thinking about it wouldn't change anything.

During Jude's musings Taryn had moved into Nicasia's lap and was switching between pleading and apologizing. Her groveling was so over the top that a warm spot bloomed in Jude's chest while watching her. She had no idea how much she'd missed Taryn, and yet having her take up space in her apartment just felt right.

"Okay, okay, fine!" Nicasia said standing up and taking Taryn with her. "I happen to have a friend through the New York royalty network, as you call it, and he lives in this very apartment complex."

"Oh thank god, I love you Judie Bee Jones, but this is the worst."

"Woah no, I never agreed to having anybody over," Jude said walking over to lock her door, "and wasn't the point of having you ladies around to avoid the assholes."

"How can you call them an asshole when you don’t even know who it is?" Nicasia asked unlocking the door. Jude went to stop her, but Taryn simply took her face in her hands and pointed it towards the window where the open moving truck stood idle.

"I promise he's good people, we grew up together," Nicasia said clearly forgetting that her and Jude had not exactly grown up as friends.

Jude did not have much of a chance to consider who might be coming to the rescue she did not need, as there was a knocking at the door.

The warmth she felt from being with her friends left her the second she opened the door and saw Cardan Greenbriar standing there. She'd never seen Cardan look anything less than impeccable, so she was even more furious to see him standing there looking like a Saks Fifth Avenue model from the catalog to help her move. A cable knit sweater, really, to move boxes. With an overcoat no less. No, no, this couldn't possibly be happening. Jude would rather move every single box one by one, than have Cardan Greenbriar help her.

What on earth could have even possessed him to try. She thought she'd made it clear when she'd damn near bitten his head off in her "entry interview" to the apartment complex. It wasn't her fault. Cardan had a particular way of getting under her skin, and the fact that he'd known her from her twin and had not even bothered to look at the application resting in his hand the entire interview had gotten her blood boiling. She'd never actually wanted to live in Elfhame.

The stupid application had been filled out for her and sent in by her mother ages ago. Eva Duarte had been so proud of Jude's success, it had never occurred to her that her mother had plans to use it as a statement. She'd miss her mother's mean streak, and wished she'd been around longer so Jude could understand this plan. Jude had been shocked to be called in for the interview to move into The Palace, and caught completely off guard to see Cardan on the day of the interview.

She must've released an actual snarl at seeing him darkening her new doorstep because Taryn and Nicasia pried her away from the door and invited him to come in. This was ridiculous ; she was not a rabid dog to be put in the corner. Although, she was considering biting Cardan.

"And hello to you too Jude," Cardan said laughing as she struggled to break free of the grip of her friends, "Lovely as ever to see you."

"Why am I seeing you?"

Cardan raised an eyebrow at that, "Not a very friendly greeting neighbor."

"I read over the paperwork your father sent over and it said that the building takes care of pests in the apartments."

"Ha ha, very funny Jude," Cardan said stalking closer, "I do hope that's true, as I'd love to see them take you out of here."

"Really, we're going to resort to I know you are but what am I?" Jude intoned, "On day one?"

“Is this really our first day together, Judiebeet?"

"Don't call me that!"

"As much as I do love seeing you upset my sweet villain," he said trailing a finger over her cheeks, "I didn't come to pick a fight." Jude knew her cheeks had to be bright red, she always got flushed when she was mad. She hated that he had command over her, more than she appeared to have over her own body. Which only made her more upset when he called her that stupid name.

"Why did you come, I had demon summoning scheduled for later in the day," Jude said ignoring the looks Nicasia and Taryn were shooting her.

"I was informed of a damsel in distress, and princely duties demanded that I come to your aid."

"Oh no, that's it," Jude turned on her friends glaring, and pointing at the door while practically shoving Cardan out, "Everybody out, I'll move them all myself."

"Wait, but I brought champagne," Cardan said materializing a bottle from the inside of his coat.

"Jude you can't kick the man out, he brought Dom," Taryn said pulling Cardan back into the apartment by his arm. Jude watched as he re-entered what was meant to be her space, unwilling to fight with Taryn.

"Fine, but if he's here he works," Jude said looking at Cardan as if to say 'unless you've got a problem with that.' The Cardan she knew would never deign to do a day's labor on his own. Always calling somebody his father employed to do things for him instead. So Jude was shocked when all he did was set the actually quite nice bottle on the counter, and gesture his hand towards the door with a look that said 'after you'.

Jude was not sure if she was pleased or pissed off when Cardan actually matched her for work ethic for the rest of moving. He eventually took off the coat, and the sweater, tossing them on the counter with his welcome gift. Jude wished he had not, as she'd been determined to carry more than him before that. She would have managed it too, if he had not rolled up his white dress shirt to the direct center of his forearm. Where it hugged just below his elbow as he worked.

She dropped one of her merchandise boxes when his arm brushed hers while reaching for another, shocked by the contact of his skin hot against her own. Furious with herself for the look that graced his face when she cursed and picked up the box, she decided to be less ambitious with how much she carried.

They had not actually had all that many boxes left. Which made it all the more traitorous that Nicasia had called in for help. As the work dwindled Nicasia and Taryn gave up the pretense of pretending to want to help move the boxes, and sat on the benches that were near the building's entrance. They sat close talking and laughing quietly at each others jokes. Jude could be funny too, but her humor was more dry and wicked. Just as Jude was sprinting to get the very last box, the pizza delivery driver had pulled up to the curb.

Taryn had gone from commiserating with Nicasia, to giving Jude puppy eyes in 10 seconds flat. Jude laughed softly as she went to go pay the man. Her path was blocked by Cardan who'd made a beeline for the car as it pulled in, while she'd been distracted. If she hadn't been so focused on his damn arms she might have missed how he went to get his wallet from his back pocket. Hell no.

Jude stood one shot at having Taryn and Nicasia not mention her attitude since Cardan walked in, and that was to buy their silence. Nothing says be on my side like hot pizza and good dessert. Which is why she was going to pay for it. Cardan was already handing the man a crisp bill when Jude went to shift the box she'd been holding to under one arm. God, she hated him so much. She'd already missed out on getting to bond with her friends over how annoying moving was because of him, and now he was going to ruin their meal too?

He'd already ruined Jude's childhood, but she was an adult now, and he would not even get a single day from her. She grabbed the boxes of her food and walked to the elevator clicking the button for her floor and slamming on the door close button before he could follow. She walked into her apartment, and she would've locked Cardan out if it not for the fact she had to wait on Taryn and Nicasia to follow. If she had to face him again today, it was going to be on her terms and her rules.

Jude moved to the boxes now all neatly lined up in what would be her living room. She scanned the barcode stickers on the top of the boxes, each item had been carefully cataloged so that she could be sure that she didn't lose anything important in the move. Downsides to owning and running a successful companies that sold accessories with a dangerous edge? There was so much inventory to keep track of.

She found what she was looking for and swapped her sneakers for stilettos. She'd love to see Cardan try to look down on her when they were eye level. She'd give a new meaning to the term glaring daggers. She was perfectly capable of paying for a damn pizza.

The door of her apartment opened and Cardan strolled in, his arm around each of her friends. Jude let out a breath that his shirt had been set back to normal, although she was not sure if she was relieved.

"Really, my own twin?" she said putting a hand on her hip and looking at Taryn who moved, hands up, to sit on the counter top.

"Jude, he got us pizza, please be reasonable," Taryn said in a placatory tone.

"I got you pizza, this interloper just stole it because pizza is joy, and he can't let me have it."

"You need to stop, you're hangry and turning into rude Jude," Nicasia teased using the family nickname she knew Jude hated. That was just low, she'd revealed that in a 2 A.M. group chat. Which every woman knows means it’s classified information.

She was being rude, she knew, but well...frankly he started it. Years ago, but she was a petty elephant and would not forget.

"Fine, have a slice of pizza and then get the fuck out."

When Nicasia and Taryn turned their looks at her, Jude just blinked her eyes slowly a few times. She had never claimed to be a saint.

"Can I at least get a drink before you kick me out on my ass?" Cardan asked the corner of his mouth upturned.

"Nope, sorry," Jude started and feeling her friends angry stares added, "I just moved in, and I haven't stocked the fridge yet."

"Well, then it's lucky for us my friend was kind enough to drop in to christen the home with champagne," Nicasia said as she made remove the muselet. Jude watched her carefully grip the wire as she twisted it off with effortless ease, and admired her friends grace. Jude would've likely embarrassed herself biting at it. She'd been served champagne at events, but it always came in a glass if she was honest.

With the sound of the popping cork her control of the apartment got further away from her. She watched as the three of them opened cupboards and looked at an empty counter top as if expecting glassware to simply appear. Jude knew she could easily scan the boxes and find her glassware, but business had taught her to spot an opportunity.

"Oh darn, it seems like we can't get you that drink after all."

"Yes, you seem very forlorn about it," Cardan said shaking his head at her, amusement in those dark eyes.

Jude gave him a mock apologetic shrug of her shoulders, lips pulled to one side of her mouth. The amusement in his eyes turned to challenge. Unbeknownst to Jude, Cardan's newest hobby was complicated jigsaw puzzles. He had needed something to do while being able to keep an eye on his father, and he found that once he started he just couldn't resist figuring out how the pieces fit together. She'd just presented him with his newest game, and he was going to figure out her pieces.

"Don't worry my darling, like I said we're neighbors now," smiling when Jude scowled at the pet name, "I can just head to my place, and get us some glasses."

It was clear that he'd gotten under Jude's skin when she stalked towards Nicasia and took the bottle from her, and into her own hands. Nicasia just looked at Taryn, and whatever that look meant Taryn must have understood. She moved to the edge of the counter top and invited Nicasia into the circle of her legs, resting her chin on her the top of the other woman’s head.

"How very unfortunate for high-born little princes like you, that you can only sip champagne from the finest of glasses."

She looked right into his eyes as she began glugging the expensive bubbly from the bottle and drinking it like watered down beer. She raised an eyebrow at him as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

"I do hope I haven't offended you Cardan," she said snarling out his name as if it was foul, "I'd hate to scare you off from ever visiting again."

"Not at all, I'm quite charmed by your lovely manners," he said walking over to where she stood by Nicasia. "Do not expect others to share my depraved tastes," he said taking the bottle from Jude's firm grip and drinking directly while their gazes stayed locked in a battle of wills.

"Nic, you feel like we're interrupting something here?" Taryn said from where she sat inches away. It shocked Jude out of her stupor, and her sister hopped off the counter as Jude made to reach for her. She was suddenly stricken, it was all fine and well to hurt Cardan, but she wouldn't lose Taryn again. Not when she just got her back.

"Ugh I thought you'd never ask, this is all too straight for me," Nicasia said taking Taryn's hand and making for the door.

"Wait guys, don't go--"

"Nope, text us when you're ready to act like a person again," Nicasia said laughing as the door shut behind their quickly retreating figures.

"Way to go, you scared them off with your stupid smoldering thing."

"Jude, I think you'll find I'm not the one in the wrong here, although I am delighted to hear you think I smolder," Cardan said backing away from her.

"I meant that stupid staring," she started but trailed off when she noted his smug face.

"Jude, all I've done today is bring you a housewarming gift and offer help at my friends request."

Jude opened her mouth to protest about the pizza slight, but stopped as she'd realized she'd just dig herself into a deeper hole. All he'd really done was cover her food for her and her friends. Was it possible that her childhood tormentor really had come here without the intent of torturing her. She'd been too caught up in trying to catch his next move, that it hadn't occurred to her. He’d clearly taken her silence to mean something else, because he went to gather his coat and sweater.

"Look, it's clear you don't want me here and I'm not actually trying to hold you hostage in your own apartment."

Jude's pride stopped her from correcting him. She'd been working so hard to get him to leave, that she couldn't exactly walk back her position now. She wanted to though, she wanted to grab him by those rather toned arms and hold him in place. To explain herself or make him explain himself, she wasn't sure. Instead she nodded her agreement, and silently watched him leave. She watched as he walked down the hall, opening and then closing his door. Only then did she finally unfreeze from her doorway and shut her own door.

She sat for about 30 minutes just trying to process all that had just happened. She was not sure when she'd become the villain in this story, but she didn't enjoy the feeling. He was the bully, not her. If his actions today were to be trusted, maybe not even him any longer. Jude stood up suddenly confident in her movements as she scanned the boxes searching for her glasses. She hadn't actually moved everything today, so all she was able to find was some coffee mugs. She looked down at her "I Rule" coffee cup, it'd have to do.

Jude went to where the remains of the bottle was left on the counter, and poured it into the cup. She wouldn't apologize, as she was not truly sorry. Even if he was not the menace he used to be, one day of rudeness was the least of what he'd deserved. She did however write what she'd call her concession. She'd apologized for the coffee mug. The note told him that while her fine Waterford Crystals were still in storage, it should taste just as good coming out of a mug. Jude left the note under the cup, and knocked on his door before leaving.

#if you hate the story I’m sorry but at least you have a cute edit #that was braggy about the edit....but it have lotta color so i like it #matching watches or shoes wasn't very them #so i figured the accorn like Jude found in the book #also i made Nicasia's hair slightly blue in the edit #uhh mostly just dying about the words #i don't normally publish anything #i was considering chickening and just giving the edit #but your secret santa box and note were too damn loving and supportive #damn you #if you love it can i be Mrs. Starborn?#I know the position of Mr. Starborn is taken #but I love you so please consider opening a secondary position #if i could send you a box of cartoon hearts i would #jurdan #jurdannet #jurdannetrevels #secret snusband #jurdan fic

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natromanxoff · 4 years

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I wasn’t sure about posting this at first but as it is already shared publicly and I have come across with it on Pinterest, I decided that it would be okay. So here is a story of a fan about Jim Hutton:

“ON 23rd of March, there was a Queen Tribute band concert in Goresbridge and my boyfriend told me that Jim would come as well. He admitted that he had arranged with Stephen for Jim to come along. The concert was in the pub called The Spirit Store. What a great name for spiritual meeting, I thought. When I entered, Jim sat at the table with Stephen, Jascqueline, her sister Valeria and other family friends. There was nowhere to sit, so we just stood by the table for a while. When I looked at Jim, he appeared somewhat fragile and tiny, like a man who could easily be overlooked. He didn´t look anything like those photos portraying him in the books.

After a while, there was a free seat by the table and everyone, including Jim, moved in order for us to sit down. It was just one place and my friend Mike wanted to take it. He got up fast but they all stopped him. Jim measured Mike up and down and told him, "Perhaps you should let the lady sit here, you cavalier!" Embarassed, Mike got up from his chair and offered it to me. I got the honorable place alongside Jim. Being a woman sometimes has its advantages! Jim welcomed me with heartfelt "Hi". At first I was nervous, but after a while I felt relaxed and enjoyed Jim's company. I was aware of his behavior, gestures, laughter, and tried to absorb his energy all at once. It was easy to talk to him about anything and everything.

I wanted to know the man Freddie loved so much, so I guess I started giving him many questions.

"Jim, are you still in touch with Phoebe?" Jim looked at me closely and began to talk to me with interest. "I haven´t really been talking to him for a long time. I know he had a hotel in Dubai, then he sold it, and he's in Prague now. He also bought something overthere and I think he's going to settle down there." When I heard about Prague, I jumped up excitedly and told him that I was from there. He smiled a little, though the coincidence like this didn´t overwhelm him as much as me.

He relished glass of Budwaiser and smoked Ultra light Silk Cuts. He offered me one and lit it up for me like a real gentleman. It seemed he wanted to continue talking. We both made fun of the ultralight effect of his cigarettes, which would probably piss off every orthodox smoker, Freddie for sure! He then demonstrated jokingly, how to properly smoke them. He inhaled all the smoke by sucking in his cheeks and widening his eyes, as if he should soon burst like an inflated toad. None of us resisted and we both burst into a mad laughter. I told him about my visit to Munich and meeting Barbara. He smiled and listened, then he rolled his eyes up to heaven and stated that she is one hell of a crazy woman. I totally agreed, and added, that also alcoholic one. It was surreal to talk about mutual aquaintances together, people we both knew. I also mentioned my visit to New York club and I could see how he returns nostalgically into his memories. Then I also tried to make him remember my friend Allison, who told me about him in the first place.

"About nine years ago she visited you in London". He couldn´t remember and admitted, that since then a lot of people have passed through his life and many of them he never saw again.

I continued. "She showed me several of your photos and in one of them you were holding Freddie's portrait that you bought at the auction". Suddenly he jumped up and said he knew whom I mean.

I showed him my miniature box containing a stone and talked about it with almost patriotic pride. "It's a stone from Logan Mews that I had to dig out from under the threshold of his house, because there was nothing else to take." Jim laughed out loud, this time without any hindrance and doubt that I was totally crazy. I also laughed because I knew I sound like nuts. He remarked with smile from ear to ear that I was pretty crazy. "Yeah, I'm crazy, and I'm proud to be. Who isn´t...and by the way.....why not?" I smiled at what I just said, because that´s what Freddie would say, to defend himself. Jim then talked about the medallion that Freddie had given him for his birthday. He said, there were three miniature pictures inside. "The first is that of Miko ", he said gently, looking up at me to make sure I knew who he was talking about. "In the other one is Freddie" ... he continued with kind of fervor and love. Something deep inside me shivered. "In the third one," ... he didn´t answer yet, when I jumped into his monologue ...."Tiffany," I blurted out.

"My mom's photo," he finished his sentence. (and I prayed he didn´t register my answer).

It was nice to hear him remembering like that. He opened up in front of me the way I never dreamt of. I think it was nice for him to share these beautiful moments and to talk about things that meant so much to him. "This rock is my good luck charm. I have been listening to Queen since I´m twelve and I also work in the Fan Club's office. We celebrate his anniversary every year. When I went here, I was kidding with my friends that I might meet Jim Hutton in Ireland... and here you are, sitting right next to me. That´s my dream come true", I said all emotional.

"How do you know Stephen?", he inquired after while.

"I go out with Vinnie and they are good friends" He eyed my boyfriend and indicated that he knew who he was.

"I was annoying the two of them and was constantly asking them to bring you", I smiled.

"Oh, Jacqueline wanted me to come, alright" Jim smiled at the thought. Then he talked about the music talent competition, in which they were selecting the best imitators of Queen.

"What music are you actually listening to?" I wondered.

"I have no favorite, I'm listening to almost everything. Even a radio".

"And do you still have Zig and Zag?"

He only sighed and said in a sad voice that they had both died since then.

"And do you have any other cats?"

"Yeah, I have seven others now," Jim smiled. This number didn´t surprise me. The old habits are hard to kill.

"Do you still keep up the gardening, Jim?"

"Constantly," he said with a loving smile and amusedly showed me his hands dirty from the clay and covered in sores. For God's sake, he must have been gardening a few minutes before going to a concert!, I thought to myself. A complete garden maniac.....

We were joking on the account of the band that was supposed to start playing long time ago, but somehow did not. He told me it would be nice to get drunk, so we didn´t know how terrible they were. That really made me crack up. He could be so funny.

He joked and emphasized to everyone around the table, that instead of a concert he could have been at home watching his favorite movie. In the same breath, he admitted that he was curious about their performance and that he hadn´t been out in ages.

He leaned over to me and confessed, that now he lived a life completely cut off from the rest of the world.

"We are basically the same, I am basically like him. Now I just enjoy loneliness and privacy. I don´t go out anywhere except my garden". I immediately knew whom he was referring to in his speech.

I said that I had discovered his house in Palatine and apologized when I saw his slightly concerned look. I said I was just little curious.

He then recalled a few of his encounters with the fans. One day there was an unknown car with a couple of strangers that arrived to his house. They came all way from Vienna and they found him by questioning people in a town! Not a hard thing to trace him, he said, as every cab driver in the area knows him pretty well. One local newspaper even published a photo of his house, and although they gave a wrong address, a lot of people had found him.

That made me laugh, because I knew what it means to be a devoted fan.

"On the other hand, it's nice to know that someone is constantly looking after you and giving you the feeling that all this is still alive," I added with a smile.

"Jim, do you still have your Volvo?"

"You mean the one that Freddie gave me?.....No, I don´t have it few years now, I´ve swapped it for a new one," he smiled.

He was all too gallant all the time, always lighting my cigarette.

He also wondered how long I would stay in Ireland, so I said that only another half a year.

"And you wanna come back here?" He asked suddenly.

"Oh, I'd love to. I'm trying to find a job either in Carlow or Kilkenny," I said enthusiastically.

Then I fell silent, looked at him and assured him "Definitely."

Each time he looked up into my eyes, I saw an incredibly nice person in front of me. Something in his silent expression suggested that he had suffered great deal of pain in life, but that he was now completely reconciled with his fate. Still, in his eyes shone a spark of unrelenting humor. In his company I forgot all about the world. I was happy to be able to make such an affluent and warm contact with him. The longer we knew each other, the closer we were.

When he wanted to go to the toilet, Stephen told him that the men's toilets were behind the bar and the ladies in front of the bar. It sounded like he wasn´t quite sure which one would Jim prefer.

But Jim didn´t care much and set off to the men's. I admit it made me laugh a little.

Then we continued our dialogue. I mentioned that I read both his and Phoebe's book, but that I couldn´t find his book anywhere in the stores. He confirmed that it´s out of print at the minute.

When I told him that I had stolen his book at the local library, he laughed and said that I should have asked him and he would have given me a copy, but he only had Italian version.

Finally, the band started to play. Everyone in the pub stood up and whole lot of us - as we were tucked in at the back, climbed onto the window ledges. I stood next to Jim, who remained seated.

He looked a little bit run over. I knew he was surrounded by the loneliness and I watched him with sadness. I lacked much power or words to comfort him. It was only after some wonderful songs that we both joined and got up. He could not remain sad in such a loving and friendly company for ever.

When he noticed the enormous, life-vibrant energy that only Queen music could produce in conjunction with a crowd of people singing, I think he forgot his personal pain. I could see pride in his face. He stood up and watched the band. Then he addressed me and made me come up onto the ledge above him to see better. I would not listen to anybody else, but from him it didn´t sound like an order. He wanted me to get the most out of it and it pleased me. Then we sat back and drank. Jim seemed to be getting cheerful and livelier. The more he drank, the more cheerful he was. The guys ordered him Red Bull with vodka. When I asked him if it was vodka, he claimed it was white lemonade! He put a warm glass of "vodka" on my hand, so I almost jumped out of my skin, which he thought was terribly funny.

Whatever he did, he looked at me as though I was the only person who knew what was behind his looks. His faces and funny grimaces reminded me of Freddie. He had a lot of subconsciously inherited poses and gestures from him. Even in his laughter I could detect an influence of Freddie's strong personality. He simply marked all people around him. It was not the same contagious and stormy laugh, but there was a spark of resemblance.

His niece Jacqueline, Valerie and Stephen, danced all the time on the ledge and Jim was pulling them and wrapping himself in between their legs, hugging them, clinging to them, and messing around like a little boy. It was a wonderful sight, as he was so happy and childish.

After some time, Jim lost himself in a crowd of concert goers, so I went to look for him. Without his company it felt such a sad place. It was as if he had fallen through the ground, which made me very nervous. Finally, I found him by the entrance table, where he was joking away with one old blonde, not too different from frivolous Barbara Valentin. I asked him for a photo together. At first he looked impenetrable but as soon as I threw a sad eye and smirked, he brightened up and agreed as if saying "You know you can, anything for you, darling"

His niece Valerie took our picture. He then whispered to me that he hopes I´ll send him some pictures later.

After that he announced that we are going back inside to listen to the band.

I saw them from close-up and I must say that it was much better to just hear them. They looked rather too comic with all their wigs. It was something that would make Freddie laugh too.

I told Jim that they don´t look very natural,which he agreed with, but he said he couldn´t complain about their music. He was totally right, because musically they weren´t bad and the singer had a very authentic voice.

Inside, everybody was dancing and Jim joined in and circled around them like a rogalo.

The whole pub vibrated with intense and loving energy. There was no one who would be bored. Jim then threw himself in the arms of his two nieces, who gently caressed him in his hair and embraced him. He let them take care of him, now vulnerable like a little lost child all of a sudden.

There was something deeply touching about it. He had closed his eyes and sadly lowered his head, as if his tears flowed deep inside, in his invisible world. I realized at this stage, how much he really loved Freddie. I was looking at him and I had a desire to caress him and comfort him but instead, I had to stand aside.

"You can have everything and yet feel alone", Freddie once said. But I was glad Jim had his family and friends around him, who cared and protected him. Jim was going through sorrow and joy,both at the same time, it seemed.

During one of his many shananigans, I caught him messing around with his niece's boyfriend.

He sat him on his knees and imitated sexual intercourse. It would seem offensive and utterly crazy to someone who didn´t know him. But we all did. Jim was laughing like crazy and when he finally looked at me, he seemed a little embarrassed by his behavior and gave me a look that said"I hope you won´t tell on me to Freddie"...but it was hard to take him seriously.

We both smiled conspiratorially at each other. In that sense, our relationship no matter how short-lived, was special. We understood one another in thoughts. He winked at me a couple of times, tapping my beer like an old buddy.

In one moment in particular, Jim leaned over me and whispered: "You as a fan have right to be crazy, but them" ... pointing at our dancing group of friends ... " they are fucked up", he said with smile and he began to knock his finger against his forehead. An international gesture that doesn´t need an interpreter!

Jim then went to the toilets for a while, and I, like a stray sheep, followed him through crowds of oblivious dancers. He was somewhat drunk at that time and barely retained a balance. He staggered a little like a broken tree. No surprise after god knows how many Red bulls and vodkas! I was bit afraid for him, so I supported him inconspicuously by both shoulders from behind. He went to the toilet and cared too little to even close the door behind him. If anyone was looking, he would see Jim Hutton pissing in a toilet bowl in his bright canary shirt.

At that moment they played the most touching song of all, These are the Days of our lives .... I stood by the door and listened, watching the band and waited for Jim. I don´t know why, perhaps because of the fate that brought me here, I suddenly felt terrible sorrow. I was sorry for Freddie and Jim. Tears poured into my eyes. I didn´t cry, but was very close to it. Jim suddenly appeared next to me and noticed my face. "What about those tears? I hope you don´t cry", but at this stage I was lost for words. His concern made me sad even more. Something inside me forced me to caress him. I hugged him gently around his neck and put my head on his shoulder for a moment. I wanted to let him know that I am very sorry about what happened to Freddie. He did not resist. He knew he wasn´t the only one in the world who was missing him. I looked into his eyes, and I told him a sentence that I didn´t know why I said, but I strongly felt it..."Jim, he's here, he IS here." His expression was rather confused at first. "Do you believe me?" ... I said this with a seriousness and a certain degree of self-assurance that he froze for a while. He looked thoughtful. He knew what I was talking about.

I seemed to only confirm his inner conviction. He didn´t say a word. He wiped my tear away with the edge of his hand and without warning, took me firmly by the hand and led me through crowds back to our friends. There was a lot of care and love in his touch. The music was just playing and Freddie just sang "I still love you" and I knew he did.

I didn´t want to leave, but I knew I said everything I needed to. I could not leave without saying goodbye. It would be a sin after all this to just disappear into eternity. I interrupted him from the conversation with someone else, leaned over the table and said, "Jim, I'm leaving now, so I want to say goodbye, it was great pleasure meeting you." I smiled as much as my heart allowed me to and shook his hand. He stared up and thought for a moment, and then, without any hesitance said, "We do not see each other for the last time." I didn´t know at this time how true his words were.

I thought I did not understand well, so I asked again, "sorry?" and he repeated patiently and more resolutely, "I shall surely see you again," while taking my hand into his hands and kissing it gently.

He left me in amazement. I stumbled out from there perplexed but still I could hear him talking about me to someone there. He probably said he hadn´t seen a bigger nutcase in a long time, assuming from his cute teddybear smile. Gosh I loved him so much!

The next day I learned from my friends that Jim was looking next morning for his jacket that he had forgotten in his car. Few days later, I've sent him the promised photographs. Jacquie confirmed that he called in to say he had received them allright.”

2001

“...And then I returned back to Ireland in 2004.

I had the opportunity to welcome Jim to my own home in Carlow sometime in 2006. He was Stephen´s surprise. When the door opened up, I didn´t see him at first.

Then his head popped out from the side of the door and with a laugh he emerged a bit later. He hugged me like we hadn´t seen each other for million years. What I felt at that moment was indescripable. My dear Jim back in my life and in my own house!

We all sat in the living room, Jim settled down on the sofa, I was sitting on the ground and absorbed the precious moments because I knew time spent with him was only borrowed time. Then we watched Queen videos and talked about Freddie as if he were in the next room. It was so surreal. Me and Jim agreed that our favorite video was Scandal, and he just added that Freddie didn´t like it very much because he couldn´t make any creative input in it, although he loved the song.

Then we talked about his illness, about him taking up to 40 pills a day to sustain his health and he also explained the difference between AIDS and HIV, as many people still didn´t know. We have talked so much and - above all - we laughed all night, almost at everything. It was so easy to succumb to his funny personality once again and to his heartfelt laughter. He made jokes about fancying my ex-boyfriend, whom he lied on top of on the sofa. Long time ago, I´ve sent him a letter explaining to him how Freddie has impacted my life. But I've forgotten I´ve ever written it and now I was faced with the horror that I actually have sent it. I hoped he has forgotten about it, but when Jim and I met in the corridor of our house, I couldn´t but apologize to him for that letter, and for being so daring. To my surprise, he looked at me softly with his tired eyes and assured me that my letter was absolutely fascinating. Then we were interrupted by Stephen, who was just leaving a toilet and the conversation was cut short at that point. Unfortunatelly I would never have the chance to find out what was the next thing he was about to say, because I noticed he wanted to continue, if he weren´t interrupted.

When we were saying goodbye at the door, he treated me as an old friend. He simply kissed me on the lips, which utterly shocked me and made me laugh at the same time.

He invited us back to his house to have a little party, but my ex-boyfriend was not in the perfect mood and so we politely declined, which I will forever regret!

About a year after that I bumped into Jim several times in the city where we both lived, or we exchanged text messages whenever I needed to advise what room flowers would be best for our new house. Sometimes I learnt about how he´s doing through my ex-boyfriend, who used to hang out with him and drink few pints in a night bar. Once my ex confessed how Jim told him that I was a great person and he should be happy to have me. They must have been talking about me!!!!

Then I met Jim one night in the nightclub, where he was with his friends. He spent most of his time sitting in the lounge smoking a cigarette, having fun with younger girls. Wherever he was, you heard his laughter. That night my ex-boyfriend arranged for Jim and me to have a dance together.

Jim was just dancing on the dancefloor with some older woman. I remember he had his jumper tied around his waist. I just got onto the dancefloor, he looked at me all serious and pulled me close to him. It was some tediously slow song that I can´t even remember, I just know that we were staggering from side to side like two handiccaped penguins and that made me laugh hysterically.

He was such a clown! Now, however, I consider this moment as one of the most precious memories of him. It was my night.

Back in 2009, I have learned that Jim was diagnosed with cancer. My ex-boyfriend told me how concerned Jim was when informing him. He said, he wept. At that time I didn´t know how serious the situation was and I hoped Jim will get better in no time. I believed the doctors would somehow help him out of it. I saw him a little later at work when he came to our restaurant for breakfast.

I almost served him as another customer, but when I realized it was him, I pulled myself back into the kitchen and let the other girls serve him. He never noticed. I was in such state of shock. I didn´t know what to do, how to act and what to say. He was so thin, just skin and bone. His face was sinking, his eyes full of pain, a small tube leading from his nose to the oxygen device he carried in his backpack and a small canvas hat on his head. I couldn´t believe this was Jim, whom I have remembered being so full of life and joy only half a year ago. I wanted to cry like never before. I also felt embarassed by my own cowardly reaction. I wished more than anything in my life to hug him and say I loved him. I wanted to wish him a happy Christmas. But I was scared of my own tears, which would not help him in his situation.

I wrote him a message on the phone, but he didn´t respond. And then I got the terrible news. Jim died and somehow I also missed his funeral. I took a first taxi and went at least to his months Mass and visited his grave, bringing him daffodils and little white lantern with candle. It was so hard for me. His relatives stood above his grave. I said my prayers in a minute of silence. The air didn´t move and the moon was full in the night sky. It was dark and cold all around but I didn´t care.

I wanted to see him laugh and mess around like he used to. It was as if another star had disappeared and fell to the earth. If only life could last forever.”

2006-2010

Credits to Seraphiel’s blog. Please don’t repost without credits.

#jim hutton

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