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ach-sss-no · 5 months ago

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tags by @pazithigallifreya (by the way the fic mentioned is one of my favorites of all time and you can read it here and i strongly encourage you to do so)

Tags are referring to this post but I'm making a new post because i'm about to go off on a tangent. let's talk about the fate of the wormtongue for a second

so book wormtongue has a lot of very odd and direct parallels to sméagol where he's starving and crawling around and allegedly eating a hobbit and all that junk, right? he even goes through the arc of 'I committed a capital crime, stole stuff and made myself repulsive to my home community, a somewhat rustic group of people living east of the Misty Mountains with an Old English naming scheme, and then got banished and had to wander through the wilderness cursing the hardness of the world'.

the first time I read that it seemed almost like a bizarre non sequiter that these characters have so much in common when gríma never touches the Ring, and then i had a major fridge horror moment

frodo's recently witnessed the death of gollum, right

the person he tried to save and offer an olive branch to but in the end sam unwittingly sabotaged it while he was asleep gollum was too far gone. gollum couldn't be saved. he literally bit the hand that (tried to) feed him, he rejected frodo, he fought frodo, he took the ring, maimed frodo for life as a final f-you, etc, and gollum's death can ultimately be attributed to gollum. and sauron. frodo put the geas on him and probably stays up at night thinking about it, but that's because frodo has an extremely strong moral sensibility; he was very much provoked. gollum took the ring and did a lil dance and fell into the hellpit rip gollum

so frodo comes home

and right there is sméagol 2.0 who comes in out of nowhere. frodo offers him clemency

here's the crucial difference.

Saruman laughed. 'You do what Sharkey says, always, don't you, Worm? Well, now he says: follow!' He kicked Wormtongue in the face as he grovelled, and turned and made off. But at that something snapped: suddenly Wormtongue rose up, drawing a hidden knife, and then with a snarl like a dog he sprang on Saruman's back, jerked his head back, cut his throat, and with a yell ran off down the lane. Before Frodo could recover or speak a word, three hobbit-bows twanged and Wormtongue fell dead. - The Return of the King

Gríma's final act is to kill Saruman, who

just curbstomped him in the face

is actively trying to sabotage his shot at redemption

terrorized this whole community

and, crucially, also just tried to kill frodo, and everyone else also wanted to kill Saruman at that point, but Frodo said no

and then flee.

Frodo's own countrymen panic and kill Gríma on the spot when, by my reading, anyway, he did not appear to be a threat to them.

this is not Sméagol, whose penultimate act was to bite off frodo's finger and steal the Ring and who died by freely and deliberately choosing to do the thing that he had been told multiple times would lead to a direct and immediate game-over (grab the Ring).

this is way worse imo this absolutely is the piling on of absolute horror

#long post #gollumposting #ish #wormtongueposting

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urmom-richietozier1 · 6 months ago

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My ghostbusters fan made character

Chrissy (Chris) Sharkey

Chrissy/ Chris is 17.

A ghost :3

Close friends with Lauren, rin, kalani and some others

Not close with Trevor (at all)

They're obsessed with the grunge 90s style.

They loves nirvana sm.

They're aroace.

They meet lived in Northern Ireland from when she was born until she was 13 then she moved to summervile. And her parents moved to NYC.

She lived with her brother in summervile

They skateboards almost everywhere.

Like they'll not take any other mode of transport thing unless it would take to long to get there.

They used to be blonde but died their hair at home with her brother one time when they were 14 to a brown.

When she was 17 (rn) she died her hair half black and half blonde

They write music, and plays guitar and drums.

Their in a band called "The ghouls"

They want to be a famous band when they're older.

Their parents are not alive (poor baby) they died when she was 14/15

Has an older brother that they live with. He's 26.

They are obsessed with abandoned places.

When they had no friends the one place they would hang out it an abandoned house. Where they swear she saw ghost there.

They once was on a late night skate when she saw Phoebe and Melody together. But they didn't say anything to anyone.

Ships Phoelody 100%

Musical obsessed!!!!!

Like has watched every single musical!!

Loves reading mystery books or romance books.

Horror move manic!

Hopefully yall like them:3

#ghostbusters #ghostbusters afterlife #ghostbusters frozen empire #chris ghostbusters #fan made #idk

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frodothefair · 7 months ago

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Does the Shire do like a.. well, I guess not an independence Day a la *from Britain*, but like a patriotic holiday? I guess there might be more incentive for one after the war of the ring and all, especially since I know that our little not-leaving trio shuffle things in the Shire politically a bit after the war and I'm sure they'd like to honor everyone's sacrifice/bravery/trauma. Then again, was there like already a Shire Day or something? and they'd make like a veterans and/or memorial day after the story? god, i hope they'd put a little more into either than a deep discount on mattresses. like a town shindig or something!

💐 ASK ME about my headcanons about hobbits and the Shire! 💐

Great question!

Before the War of the Ring, I doubt the hobbits were "patriotic" as we understand the term. They loved their land, surely, but they expressed that love through the tilling of the earth, and by enjoying its boons. They did not need a special day to honor who they were and where they came from.

If there were holidays that celebrated the "Shire-ness" of the Shire, those were probably Midsummer and the Harvest Festival.

Midsummer took place around the time of the summer solstice, and was a time of bonfires, dancing, singing, maypoles, drinking ales, and of course feasting. The days were long, and the flowers plentiful, so it was also a popular time for weddings. Because of the profusion of flowers, there was also a big flower market at around that time, where awards were given for the finest specimens, and enthusiasts could purchase bulbs and cuttings.

(image credit)

The Harvest Festival was similar to the "county fair" experience in our time. It took place in late September, and by that point, the crops would come in, and the farmers would gather to showcase their finest crops, their finest animals, and their finest wares (from canned goods, to pies, to woodwork), again with prizes being awarded. It was also a time to see family from the far corners of the Shire, hold sports and other competitions, and of course eat. I am sure that there was even a prize for the largest mushroom found in the woods.

(image credit)

After the War of the Ring, things changed, and a new holiday was introduced: Remembrance Day. A natural time for this was November 3rd, the anniversary of the Battle of Bywater. This was a time to honor those fallen in that battle, but also the sacrifice of those who lived through the Scouring. It was a time to tell family stories that centered around those events, as well as the story of the four hobbits who expelled the Ruffians and Sharkey from the Shire.

Remembrance Day was a more solemn occasion. There was feasting as well, but also trips to the cemetery to honor the dead, and pictures, candles, and flowers displayed in homes commemorating both the living and the dead. Food and drink would be left out at special altars throughout the night, or simply at a vacant seat at the table, to remember those who died of hunger and other privations, and those who were starved and ill-used in the Lockholes.

Bonus: When hobbits visit their loved ones at the cemetery, they always bring the favorite food and drink of the deceased to leave at the grave. For this and other reasons, hobbits maintain detailed registers of their loved ones' favorite meals.

#lotr #lord of the rings #hobbits #cw death #lotr headcanons #lotr headcanon #the shire

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sapphicbookclub · 10 months ago

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Sweet Surprise by Jenny Frame

Flora Buchanan doesn’t think a relationship is an option. A variety of mental health issues—anxiety, OCD, and PTSD—make it seem impossible to find love. Instead, she seeks joy in the one thing that is safe and ordered: her sweetshop in Glasgow.

Mack Sharkey is ready to start a new life after being released from jail. As part of the infamous Sharkey family, she took care of business on the edge of the law for the once criminal, and now legitimate, empire. After being sentenced to jail time her cousin should have shared, she’s promised a quiet life running her dream barbershop.

Flora and Mack are bound together by a night that changed their lives two years before and never thought they’d ever see each other again. But when Mack opens up her barbershop right next to Flora’s sweetshop, their connection comes roaring back.

Genres: contemporary, romance

Order from Blackwell's here and get free worldwide shipping!

#sapphic books #lgbt books #wlw books #booklr #book recs #contemporary

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lenbryant · 2 months ago

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youtube

"0 1 0 1 0 1 0 1 0 1" —Laurie Anderson, "Home of the Brave."

#laurie anderson #home of the brave #0 #1 #zero #one #can't you hear my heart beat #sharkey's day #sharkey's night #big bald head rising up over the grocery store #language is a virus #william s. burroughs #Youtube

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la-femme-au-collier-vert · 2 years ago

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A List of Works Influencing and Referenced by IWTV Season 1

Works Directly Referenced

Marriage in a Free Society by Edward Carpenter

A Doll’s House by Henrik Ibsen

Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert

Cheri by Collete

A Streetcar Named Desire by Tennessee Williams

La Nausee by Jean-Paul Sartre (credit to @demonicdomarmand )

Complete Poetry of Emily Dickinson edited by Thomas H. Johnson*

Blue Book by Tom Anderson

The Book of Abramelin the Mage

Don Pasquale by Gaetano Donizetti with libretto by Giovanni Ruffini

Iolanta by Pyotr Tchaikovsky with libretto by Modest Tchaikovsky

Pelleas et Melisande by Claude Debussy

Epigraphes Antiques by Claude Debussy

Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1992)

Nosferatu (1922)

The Graduate (1967)

Marie Antoinette (1938)

On the Origin of the Species by Charles Darwin

De Masticatione Mortuorum in Tumulis by Michael Ranft (1728)

Emily Post’s Etiquette

Bach’s Minuet in G Major (arranged as vampire minuet in G major)

Artworks referenced (much credit in this section to @iwtvfanevents and to @nicodelenfent )

Fall of The Rebel Angels by Peter Bruegel The Elder (1562)

The Storm on the Sea of Galilee by Rembrandt (1633)

Three Peaches on a Stone Plinth by Adriaen Coorte (1705)

Strawberries and Cream Raphaelle Peale, (1816) credit to @diasdelfeugo

Red Mullet and Eel by Edouard Manet (1864)

Starry Night by Edvard Munch (1893)

Self Portrait by Edvard Munch (1881)

Captain Percy Williams on a Favorite Irish Hunter by Samuel Sidney (1881)

Autumn at Arkville by Alexander H. Wyant

Cumulus Clouds, East River by Robert Henri

Mildred-O Hat by Robert Henri (Undated)

Ship in the Night James Gale Tyler (1870)

Bouquet in a Theater Box by Renoir (1871)

Berthe Morisot with a Fan by Édouard Manet (1872)

La Vierge D’aurore by Odilon Redon (1890) credit to @vampirepoem on twt

Still Life with Blue Vase and Mushrooms by Otto Sholderer (1891)

After the Bath: Woman Drying her Hair by Edgar Degas (1898)

Bust of a Woman with Her Left Hand on Her

Chin by Edgar Degas (1898) credit to @terrifique

Backstage at the Opera by Jean Beraud (1889)

Roman Bacchanal by Vasily Alexandrovich Kotarbiński (1898)

Dancers by Edgar Degas (1899)

Calling the Hounds Out of Cover by Haywood Hardy (1906)

Dolls by Witold Wojtkiewicz (1906) credit to @gyzeppelis on twt

Forty-two Kids by George Bellows (1907)

The Artist's Sister Melanie by Egon Schiele (1908)

Paddy Flannigan by George Bellows (1908)

Stag at Sharkey’s by George Bellows (1909)

The Lone Tenement by George Bellows (1909)

Ode to Flower After Anacreon by Auguste Renoir (1909) credit to @iwtvasart on twt

New York by George Bellows (1911)

Young Man kneeling before God the Father

Egon Schiele (1909)

Kneeling Girl with Spanish Skirt by Egon Schiele (1911)

Portrait of Erich Lederer by Egon Schiele (1912)

Krumau on the Molde by Egon Schiele (1912)

Weeping Nude by Edvard Munch (1913)

The Cliff Dwellers by George Bellows (1913)

Church in Stein on the Danube by Egon Schiele (1913)

Self Portrait in a Jerkin by Egon Schiele (1914)

The Kitten's Art Lesson by Henriette Ronner Knip credit to @terrifique

Three Studies for Figures at the Base of a Crucifixion by Francis Bacon (1944)

New York by Vivian Maier (1953)

Self Portrait by Vivian Maier (Undated)

Self Portrait by Vivian Maier (1954)

Slave Auction by Jean-Michelle Basquiat (1982)

(Untitled) photo of St. Paul Loading Docks by Bradley Olson (2015)

Transformation by Ron Bechet (2021)

(Untitled) sculpture in the shape of vines by Sadie Sheldon

(Untitled) Ceramic Totems by Julie Silvers (Undated)

Mother Daughter by Rahmon Oluganna

Twins I by Raymon Oluganna

@iwtvfanevents made a post of unidentified works here.

Works Cited by the Writer’s Room as Influences

Bourbon Street: A History by Richard Campanella (as it hardly mentions Storyville I think interested parties would be better served by additional titles if they want a complete history of New Orleans)

Invisible Cities by Italo Calvino (This was also adapted into an award winning opera)

poetry by Charles Simic (possibly A Wedding in Hell?)

poetry by Mark Strand (possibly Dark Harbour?)

Works IWTV may be in conversation with (This is the most open to criticism and additions)

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, uncensored (There are two very different versions of this which exist today, as Harvard Press republished the unedited original with permission from the Wilde family.)

Absalom, Absalom! by William Faulkner

Warsan Shire for Beyoncé’s Lemonade

Faust: A Tragedy by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte

La Morte Amoreuse by Theophile Gautier

Carmilla by Sheridan LeFanu

Maurice by E.M. Forster

Sailing to Byzantium by Yeats

The Circus Animal's Desertion by Yeats

The Second Coming by Yeats

Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison (credit to @johnlockdynamic )

1984 by George Orwell (credit to @savage-garden-nights for picking this up)

The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman

A Rose for Emily by William Faulkner

Gone With the Wind film (1939)

Hannibal (2013)

Beauty and the Beast by Gabrielle Suzanne de Villenueve

Music used in Season 1 collected by @greedandenby here

*if collected or in translation most of the best editions today would not have been available to the characters pre-1940. It’s possible Louis is meant to have read them in their original French in some cases, but it would provide for a different experience. Lydia Davis’ Madame Bovary, for example, attempts to replicate this.

** I've tagged and linked relevant excerpts under quote series as I've been working my way through the list.

Season 2 here

Season 3 here

#Iwtv #Its entirely possible these were not in mind at all but given their fame and influence in general its not impossible #there's also a LOT of gothic novels written before Interview with the Vampire (1976) that share many qualities such as unreliable narrators #but I wanted to make sure I was choosing direct inspiration rather than cousins #Interview with the vampire #iwtv season 1 #Quote series

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collapsedsquid · 10 months ago

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“You can make good money,” Loustalot said. “The job is not rocket science, you know what I mean? It is very, very, very simple. You could get complex about strategies and stuff like that. But at the end of the day, it’s a very simple job. If you can do it well and treat people well and get a good reputation and do a good job, then you can make good money. That’s what kept me in it.” [...] There’s no such thing as a work-life balance for a freight broker. Stine said, while he was a freight broker, his date nights with his significant other were constantly interrupted by calls. “I would constantly have to get up and check my phone or talk to a driver and try to book the load,” Stine said. Those calls aren’t exactly fun, either. Brokers, as middlemen tend to be, get blamed for things gone wrong, even if it’s not their fault. “When you’re constantly blamed for stuff you can’t control, that’s just not conducive to mental health,” Loustalot said. “That’s probably a huge part of it. That contributes a lot to the stress and turnover and attrition.” The ex-freight brokers I spoke with, like Loustalot, still regularly pull 60-hour workweeks. It’s a hard habit to shake. Stine is the same way. [...] “That’s why I’m excited honestly around the tech side,” Sharkey said. “I think technology can help with a lot of the bull—-, really actually improve what some of us are doing on a daily basis and stop us from working until midnight some nights.” That’s the kind of management Tschirgi (jokes about Zyn and energy drinks aside) advocates. “Between nearshoring, technology and AI, [you’re telling me] that we can’t figure out a solution,” Tshigri said. “It’s just the lazy way to do it, and the way it was done in the early 2000s and the way brokerages have been successful. They don’t want to go away from that. “We know we can hire people right out of college, give them all-you-can-drink energy drinks and coffee and beer at the end of the day and rooftop happy hours,” Tschigri said. “There was something fun about that for a couple of years and then you realize that’s not sustainable at all.”

Terrible job but it pays well, but soon the computers will take that job away

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acotars · 2 years ago

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books read in 2023

january

sweep in peace by ilona andrews

one fell sweep by ilona andrews

a court of mist and fury by sarah j. maas

sweep of the blade by ilona andrews

sweep with me by ilona andrews

my best friend’s exorcism by grady hendrix

kiss her once for me by alison cochrun

the seven husbands of evelyn hugo by taylor jenkins reid

i’m glad my mom died by jennette mccurdy

love and other words by christina lauren

sweep of the heart by ilona andrews

the only living girl on earth by charles yu

witches get stuff done by molly harper

you had me at hola by alexis daria

her vigilante by lillian lark

inconvenient daughter by lauren j. sharkey

anon pls. by deuxmoi

you are eating an orange. you are naked. by sheung-king

legends & lattes by travis baldree

bad vibes only (and other things i bring to the table) by nora mcinerny

signs of cupidity by raven kennedy

bonds of cupidity by raven kennedy

crimes of cupidity by raven kennedy

february

exciting times by naoise dolan

sweethand by n.g. peltier

you made a fool of death with your beauty by akwaeke emezi

something wilder by christina lauren

highly suspicious and unfairly cute by talia hibbert

you deserve each other by sarah hogle

this is how you lose the time war by amal el-mohtar and max goldstone

would you rather by allison ashley

march

meet me in the margins by melissa ferguson

king of battle and blood by scarlett st. clair

the exotic by hampton sides

river of shadows by karina halle

alone with you in the ether by olivie blake

lovelight farms by b.k. borison

the soulmate equation by christina lauren

before i let go by kennedy ryan

haunting adeline by h.d. carlson

the lies i tell by julie clark

one jump at a time by nathan chen

our wives under the sea by julia armfield

all systems red (the murderbot diaries #1) by martha wells

before the coffee gets cold by toshikazu kawaguchi

april

funny you should ask by elissa sussman

make a scene by mimi grace

sweeter than chocolate by lizzie shane

the kiss quotient by helen hoang

my favorite half-night stand by christina lauren

romantic comedy by curtis sittenfeld

icebreaker by a.l. graziadei

the wedding proposal by john swansiger

circling back to you by julie tieu

by the book by amanda sellet

a lady’s guide to mischief and mayhem by manda collins

love in the time of serial killers by alicia thompson

if the shoe fits by julie murphy

whispers of you by catherine cowles

the kiss curse by erin sterling

by the book by jasmine guillory

honey & spice by bolu babalola

one night on the island by josie silver

the bodyguard by katherine center

the reunion by kayla olson

the neighbor favor by kristina forest

crooked kingdom by leigh bardugo

do i know you? by emily wibberley & austin siegemund-broka

just my type by falon ballard

delilah green doesn’t care by ashley herring blake

happy place by emily henry

dating dr. dil by nisha sharma

icebreaker by hannah grace

count your lucky stars by alexandria bellefleur

stone cold fox by rachel koller croft

fake it till you bake it by jamie wesley

may

the dead romantics

motherthing by ainslie hogarth

the woman in the library by sulari gentill

artificial condition (the murderbot diaries #2) by martha wells

the last word by taylor adams

you shouldn’t have come here by jeneva rose

june

fourth wing (the empyrean #1) by rebecca yarros

the very secret society of irregular witches by sangu mandanna

love, theoretically by ali hazelwood

july

the traitor queen (the bridge kingdom #2) by danielle l. jensen

the beast by katee robert

baldur's gate: descent into avernus by by james introcaso et. al

forget me not by julie soto

the wishing game by meg shaffer

august

the true love experiment by christina lauren

pachinko by min jin lee

almond by sohn won-pyung, translated by joosun lee

hook, line, and sinker by tessa bailey

september

hey, u up? (for a serious relationship): how to turn your booty call into your emergency contact by emily axford & brian murphy

everyone knows your mother is a witch by rivka galchen

fangs by sarah andersen

a room with a view by e.m. forster

juniper bean resorts to murder by gracie ruth mitchell

one's company by ashley hutson

the mysterious affair at styles by agatha christie

solita: a gothic romance by vivien rainn

you, again by kate goldbeck

the undertaking of hart and mercy by megan bannen

my roommate is a vampire by jenna levine

the picture of dorian gray by oscar wilde

the vampires of el norte by isabel cañas

her body and other parties by carmen maria machado

evil eye by etaf rum

the seven year slip by ashley poston

october

keeper of enchanted rooms by charlie n. holmberg

the serpent and the wings of night by carissa broadbent

shy by max porter

down comes the night by allison saft

the unfortunate side effects of heartbreak and magic by breanne randall

the hurricane wars by thea guanzon

november

a witch's guide to fake dating a demon by sarah hawley

the wake-up call by beth o'leary

when in rome by sarah adams

the view was exhausting by mikaella clements and onjuli datta

hello stranger by katherine center

practice makes perfect by sarah adams

do your worst by rosie danan

december

bookshops & bonedust by travis baldree

the fake mate by lana ferguson

final count: 127/100

#kate’s reading log #read in 2023*#a little late but i wanted to get this up here !!#i’ll update as i go so if you don’t want to see this just blacklist kate’s reading log :)#we hit character limit so i had to reformat lol

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heycrabman · 1 month ago

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#Spotify

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thefactsofthematter · 2 years ago

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you know me bruh

“just once.” and “i thought you were dead.” ily!

-💥

omg ok here we go @jack-kellys 👀

this is, in fact, longer than a drabble. but hey when there’s two prompts and a fun idea, you just have to go for it!

here’s some jack + race brotherly shenanigans!! tw for graphic violence - it gets a little intense for a bit there.

pls enjoy!!

January, 1900.

“Have you lost your goddamn mind, Higgins!?”

Jack is chasing him down the fire escape on the side of the Lodging House, and Race knows he brought this upon himself, but he’s still going to be an ass about it.

“Have you?” he counters as he darts down the stairs as fast as he can, not looking back. “Christ almighty, you’re hollering like you’re trying to wake the entire goddamn neighbourhood.”

The steps are icy and it’s dark out, so just as he slows down a moment to catch himself and keep from sliding all the way to the bottom, Jack manages to nab him with an iron grip on his upper arm.

“Get your ass back inside,” Jack hisses. Rarely does he get mad like this, much less at his own boys, but Race has apparently done just the right trick to piss him off. “Right fuckin’ now. I’m not messing around.”

Race twists his arm, but Jack doesn’t let go.

“What, a fella can’t even go for a walk anymore?” he snaps. “You ain’t my father, Kelly. I’m grown. Let go of me.”

“Grown?” Jack all-but roars. “You’re fourteen goddamn years old!”

“And you ain’t that much older, so you can’t tell me nothing!”

Race wrenches his arm away and continues down the stairs, but he doesn’t get far. Jack grabs the collar of his coat and yanks him back.

“Where the hell are you going, huh?” Jack demands, a fire in his eyes that’s almost genuinely intimidating. “Ain’t no way you’re headed to Sharkey Athletic Club, is there?”

Race feels himself go pale. Jack wasn’t supposed to know about that. How the fuck did he find out?

As if to answer the question, Jack pulls a little card from his back pocket— the very same one that one of Race’s regular customers handed him a couple of weeks ago, inviting him to come check it out and consider joining.

“We’re short a few featherweights these days; our boys keep gettin’ too big and movin’ up classes,” the man had said, with a wink. “You look like you got some pep in you, kid. Come find us if you want a shot in the ring.”

And it’s not that Race had ever considered prizefighting before then, but it had been enticing— he’s wont to finding trouble and getting in scraps anyways, so why not get paid for it? Or at least, even if he loses, have a few fellas around to pull the guy off him before it gets too hairy? Fighting in a club is safer, as far as he’s concerned, because it’s controlled.

He hasn’t been in a real fight yet— the man who’d invited him had money banked on him and wasn’t about to let him go in completely blind— but he’s been there once to watch a few fights and practice on a punching bag. Tonight is going to be his first time in the bareknuckle ring, against another newcomer who’s close to his age and size.

He must’ve dropped his invite somewhere in the Lodge. Jack found it, obviously, and he’s probably been waiting all night to catch the moment Race tried to get out after curfew.

“I never even heard of that,” Race lies through his teeth. “I’m going to meet Spot.”

“You’re walking to Brooklyn at this hour, in the snow?” Jack scoffs, unconvinced. “Don’t think you can pull a fast one on me, kid. How many times you been to Sharkey’s?”

Race swallows. Jack is genuinely angry, and there’s no use in lying anymore.

“Just once. I only watched.”

“Who invited you?”

“A fella I sell to, down at the races. I dunno his first name, but folks just call him O’Connell.” He pauses, suddenly feeling a little twist of fear in his gut. “I think he’s one of them Five Points fellas, Jack. He’ll stomp me if I don’t show tonight. I gotta go.”

Jack slaps him. It catches Race off-guard enough that his head snaps to the side with the force of it, but he steels himself enough not to react.

“Five Points? You’re in with a fucking gang!?”

“I ain’t knew it was a gang thing until I was already there,” Race huffs, rubbing at his stinging cheek, “but yeah, I guess. I’m not in the gang or nothing, but I’m fightin’ for real tonight, and I don’t wanna know what trouble I’ll be in if I miss it. I’ll come straight back when I’m done, alright?”

Jack is silent for a moment, his stone-cold expression utterly unreadable.

“Fine,” he snaps. “Let’s go.”

Race recoils a little.

“You’re coming along?”

“Ain’t no chance you’re going alone," Jack sighs. “And someone’s gonna have to drag you home when you get soaked.”

Race swats Jack on the ear, and Jack finally cracks half a smile.

“I’m gonna win. Just you wait and see, Kelly.”

They get stopped at the door.

“Who’s your pal?”

“My brother,” Race replies, and it’s only half a lie. Brothers don’t have to be blood. He offers the bouncer a wry smile. “Says I’m too young to come alone, so I thought I’d let him come watch.”

Jack has the good sense not to speak, just stays tight against Race’s side. There’s a chance this could blow up in their faces and get them turned away, but Race is hoping he’s got just enough youthful charm to pull this off. Everyone he met last week seemed to like him, so the odds should be good.

“You’re a keen one, kid,” the bouncer laughs, “bringing a babysitter to the fight. Get in here.”

Thank god that worked. They walk into the crowded club, hazy with smoke and almost too dark to see.

“I ain’t heard you talk so Irish before,” Jack chuckles, practically under his breath. “That’s new.”

“I forgot to tell you,” Race mutters as subtly as he can, “my name’s Conor when I’m here. Half-Italian ain’t a good look around all these Irishmen, so Antonio’s off the table, and they wouldn’t believe I was really just called Racetrack neither, so I stole my old man’s name and his accent.”

“Good god,” Jack sighs, “I can’t believe we’re really doing this.”

Race rolls his eyes.

“Just have some fun. I’m gonna go find O’Connell, but you should grab a drink. Stick to the story if anyone asks— you’re here keepin’ your little brother, Conor Higgins, outta trouble. Folks’ll get a kick outta that.”

Jack, while obviously not too enthused about the situation, is a good sport and an even better liar, so Race isn’t worried about him. Even if he’ll get an earful in the morning for how reckless it was to even be going here in the first place… for now, Jack just gives him a quick hug.

“Good luck. You better win that fight and make this worth all the fuss.”

And then he’s off towards the bar, and Race is headed to the back to get ready.

He realizes, once he’s in the ring, that O’Connell has decided to have some fun with him.

He’d been told he was up against another new kid, who was right around his size— it was supposed to be a fair fight.

That’s not who steps up to face him.

The kid— Murphy Gallagher, he’s been called around the club— has to be at least Jack’s age, and twice as broad as Race himself. He seems rather amused by the slight panic that Race is well aware his expression has just given away.

“Surprise. Initiation ain’t fair, kid,” Murphy laughs. “Give it your best shot, alright?”

Race swallows.

Shit.

He wants this. He knows it’s trouble to be getting involved with this scene, but it’s a leg up in the world for when he gets too old for papes, isn’t it? He can read, but he can’t write too well, so he doesn’t have much shot at a respectable career; poor and uneducated folks like himself end up in factories, and that’s the absolute last thing he wants. If he can get good at fighting, he might have a shot.

He offers Murphy the cockiest smirk he can muster, as they shake hands in the centre of the ring.

“You’re on.”

For two rounds, Race holds his own. He goes down each time, but the rounds are decently long, and he lands a lot of good hits— the biggest problem is just that this tougher, older kid can last longer. When Race starts to tire out from the effort of fighting someone twice his size, Murphy can easily rain a few more solid hits on him until he’s winded enough to hit the floor.

“Get it together,” O’Connell warns before the start of the third round, as he wipes some blood from Race’s face. “Don’t make me look like an idiot for bringing you in here. Show us what you’ve got.”

“I’m trying,” Race huffs, exhausted.

There’s sweat in his eyes, and his ribs are screaming in pain. He’s sure he’s busted up enough that even the kids back at the Lodge will question it— he gets in his share of fights, but he usually knows when to give up and beat it. That’s not really an option here.

“Try harder,” O’Connell teases. He slaps Race on the shoulder. “Get back in there.”

And so he does.

Murphy hits him in the side as soon as the whistle blows, and Race stumbles. He’s so tired. The crowd is laughing at what’s turning into a disappointing but amusing fight— Race obviously has nothing on his opponent, and there’s no chance he’ll be invited back here. He’s getting soaked for nothing, isn’t he?

His back hits the ropes when he’s struck again, and for a moment, he considers giving in right there and then.

“Come on, Racer!” he hears Jack shout from somewhere in the room. “You’re faster than that! Get up!”

Something suddenly clicks.

Race is faster than this guy. Of course he is. He’s been too stuck in a boxing frame of mind from the fights he’d watched last week, but standing strong and taking hits isn’t how Racetrack Higgins fights. No, he keeps people on their toes, and the fact that he’s in a ring doesn’t have to stop him, does it?

Just as Murphy steps back, clearly thinking he’s won this laughably easy round, Race springs off of the ropes and launches himself forward. He punches Murphy in the face before he’s even got time to react, and then he’s off to bounce against the ropes on the other side of him.

The crowd goes wild, and Race finds himself smiling. Murphy lumbers towards him to throw a right hook, but all Race can think is keep fucking moving, so he darts out of the way and lands a hard jab at the guy’s exposed ribs. He comes around the back before Murphy can even spin, and in what might be a rash decision, opts to jump onto his back and try to pummel him from there.

If there are rules to this fight, he’s not following them anymore… but it wasn’t exactly within the rules to throw him up against someone well out of his weight class, was it?

They end up on the floor somehow, Murphy having twisted onto his back, with Race’s legs locked over his hips. Race rains punches down on him while he’s still disoriented, taking a sick satisfaction in the way the bigger kid has started gasping— the wind has been knocked out of him, and there’s blood all over his nose and mouth.

For one glorious moment, Race thinks he might’ve won this round… until Murphy gets his bearings, grabs him, flips him over onto his back, and promptly knocks his lights out with one brutal punch.

Jack is in front of him when he comes to.

He’s sitting on the floor, propped up against the outside of the ring, surrounded by people. Someone is wiping up the blood from his shirtless chest, and another set of hands are holding his head, obviously trying to inspect some kind of damage. There’s someone else waiting next to him with a glass of water, ready to hand it to him when he wakes up.

Jack is there, though, knelt in front of him, looking absolutely terrified.

“Don’t gimme that look,” Race laughs, his words coming out a little slurred. There’s blood in his mouth, and one of his teeth feels a little wiggly. “I’m fine.”

“I thought you were dead,” Jack snaps. “When you just laid there and ain’t even twitched, I thought that fucker killed you. You ain’t never allowed to do this again, Conor, you hear me?”

One of the guys cleaning him up— a lackey of O’Connell’s— laughs quietly at that.

Jack is probably right, at least. After that miserable defeat, any shot Race might’ve had at a prizefighting career is good and gone.

“It was fun,” Race grins. He takes a sip from the water that’s been given to him. “At least I tried it.”

“Atta boy,” the guy who’d been holding his head chuckles. “You seem fine. There’s just a scratch up there but they bleed like hell. Nothing to worry about. Good hustle, kid.”

He leaves, and Race lets his head loll for a moment as the exhaustion truly hits him. Hopefully he can at least grab a drink before he’s kicked out of here— he deserves one, he figures. He fought hard.

Jack seems about to say something else, but before he can, they’re interrupted by O’Connell himself striding over. He takes a knee next to Race; he’s grinning, a cigar between his teeth, and a little bundle of something in his hand.

He holds it out to Race— it’s a membership card to the club, and four whole dollars.

“Welcome to Sharkey Athletic Club, Higgins. Here’s your prize.”

Race’s eyes go wide.

“But I lost.”

O’Connell shakes his head and laughs.

“Course you did. You had no shot. You weren’t supposed to win.” He holds his cigar between two fingers to gesticulate with it. “You gave us a show and you fought dirty— that’s what initiation’s all about. I knew you had it in you.”

Race takes the card and the money, still sort of stunned.

“Your brother’s a real live-wire, ain’t he?” O’Connell continues, patting Jack’s back as he stands back up. “If you wanna try your own fight sometime, let a fella know. Maybe there’s something in Higgins blood, eh?”

Jack is obviously pissed at this outcome, but he pulls himself together and nods, so as to not break his cover.

“I think I’ll let Conor handle the fighting, sir,” he chuckles. “He gets in enough trouble for the two of us. Someone’s gotta drag him back home at the end of the night.”

Race grins. He’s always loved watching the way Jack can effortlessly sell any lie he needs to; he even slips his voice into the Irish lilt that he probably picked up from his own father, just like Race. They’ve got a lot in common, the two of them.

“Better he fights in here than out on the street somewhere, hey? He’s got a good head on his shoulders. This kid’ll go far.”

O’Connell walks away. Race and Jack are left alone in a crowded room.

“Was I good?” Race asks. His head is still spinning a little. “Like, actually?”

It seems Jack can’t help but nod.

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I was impressed. I ain’t happy about it, but you were damn good.”

Race grins.

“So you’ll let me come back?”

Jack considers it for a moment.

“There’s no stopping you, is there?”

“Nope.”

Jack sighs.

“Fine.” He reaches a hand out to help Race up. “But you owe me a drink or ten with that prize money of yours.”

Race laughs as he gets to his feet. Everything hurts, but he’s satisfied.

“You got it, boss.”

#ill prob put it on ao3 eventually but not tonight! lol #this is a tumblr exclusive folks #so that being said pls comment or rb if you feel so inclined <3 i love feedback #jack kelly #racetrack higgins #newsies #my writing #violence tw

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negansbackdoorwhore · 2 years ago

Text

Crazy About You

Summary: Sharkey a mobster wants you and you’re hesitant of his offer, because of his dark side

Warnings: possessive behavior, violence, angst, swearing

Sharkey caught your attention at a club with his slicked back hair and all black suit. Especially all the tattoos on his body. You felt too scared to approach him but he was the one to make the first move.

As soon as he lead you to the dance floor it was history. Sharkey has been dead set on making you his woman and yet you pulled away. You knew what his tattoos meant and what he did in those business meetings. He was dangerous. But he never stopped taking you out and having you stay with him a few nights a week. You could never resist him with how persuasive and charming he was. So now you were laying beside him in bed as he was talking about his day.

“Be my wife.”

“We’ve been over this already. I can’t.”

“C’mon Princess. No one else out there can give you things I can. Nor can anyone give you the love I can.”

You sighed deeply and sat up straight rubbing your arm. He knew how his words were like sweet honey and his touch was so addictive.

“I need time to think. Can you give me a week alone to process?”

“Anything for you.”

He kissed your lips and held you for the remainder of the evening. You left soon after and took time to think over this. You’ve been seeing him for almost a year and he made good points. But you needed a second opinion. You invited your friend Dax to a dinner to discuss the predicament. It was a nicer one uptown and you were dressed up a bit to fit in. A simple black dress and a pair of black wedges. You adorned plain makeup and curled your hair. Dax did the same with a plan button up and slacks.

Upon meeting up you shared your news and Dax immediately started to cheer. It was exciting in a way but you still felt nervous. In mid sentence you stopped speaking when seeing Sharkey and his crew walking in.

“You okay girlie?” Dax asked while reaching to touch your hand. You felt him squeeze your fingers and thought it was bad.

“Don’t do that!” You snatched away and looked at Sharkey sitting at a booth. He was too focused on his conversation to notice you and it made you feel more at ease. You sighed in relief and continued on with the conversation. As you were in mid sentence, a waiter came over with a beautiful looking dessert and placed it in front of you.

“Oh, we didn’t order this.”

“It’s from the gentleman at the booth.” The waiter pointed toward Sharkey and he was smiling a dark kind of smile. You felt your heart sink and Dax was just confused.

“You okay?”

“It’s fine. It’s getting late, let’s pay and go.” Dax followed and as soon as you were about to leave until being stopped at the door. It was Paul, Sharkey’s main muscle.

“Y/N! Why don’t you ditch this guy and our party there.”

“What? She’s not doing that.”

Dax tried to defend but you told him to go home. You didn’t want to cause a scene in public. It’s happened many times before with Sharkey beating up anyone who got out of line and especially anyone who fucked with you. Paul brought you to the booth and Sharkey motioned you to sit beside him. His hand resting on your thigh the whole time.

You didn’t pay attention their conversation and felt nervous when it came time to leave. You arrived to Sharkey’s and he hasn’t said much since leaving the restaurant. He lead you inside and the air felt so tense that it was hard to breathe.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you there.” He spoke up. You sighed as you started to remove your shoes.

“Before you say anything else, it’s not what you think.”

“So you know what I think?” You were already getting irritated at his attitude.

“Yeah I know you well enough to know that you felt jealous.” He shook his head and ran his hand to slick his hair back.

“Sharkey, I love you. You think I’d go out and hurt you like that?”

“No. I just can’t stand seeing you with anyone else.”

“You sound crazy.” He frowned as he turned to you and took a hold of your arm.

“You don’t understand what this does to me. I feel like you just don’t get it sometimes. But you will.” You felt fear and he was dragging you outside.

“I want you to understand, actions have consequences.” It was freezing outside and you saw a couple guys in the distant. Dread filled your body seeing those men beating up your friend Dax. You wanted to rush to his side to stop them but Sharkey held your waist to keep you there.

“Sharkey! Stop them right now! It’s not his fault but mine you bastard!” He didn’t even respond and started pulling you back inside. You tried to fight him but it was pointless. He shoved you into his threshold but you immediately try to his chest. He shoved you back and pinned you to down on the couch.

“You didn’t have to do that you brute! He was just a friend!” You say tears roll down your cheeks and he was holding you down.

“How was I supposed to know? You know how I get, so why would you try to hide it.”

“You’re crazy, you know that. I would’ve told you if you just let me come to you.” He frowned and released your hands, you curl up under him as you cried.

“I was going to marry you but if you can’t change, then I won’t see you anymore.” He bit his cheek and let out a string of swears. He stood up and ran his hands over his face. He groaned out of frustration as he reached to hold your hand.

“Go to bed. I’ll be there in a minute.” You’d rather run out but you submitted by your body carrying you to his bedroom. You lay on top of comforter and holding tightly to a decorative pillow. Shortly, Sharkey was entering the room and stripping down to boxers. You ignored him as he tried to hold you but you moved away. He gave up after a few minutes and turned away from you.

You woke up in the late morning with Sharkey laying next to you scrolling on his phone. He looked to see you opening your eyes.

“Morning.”

“Morning asshat.” He giggled and ran his hand through his hair.

“I guess that’s deserved.”

“Look, I’m sorry Princess. I’m really sorry.” You rolled your eyes as he started his spill.

“Save it. I need some space.” You make your exit and could feel Sharkey’s demeanor of sadness before walking out.

#jeffrey dean morgan #jeffrey dean morgan x reader #angel in red sharkey #uncaged sharkey #sharkey x reader

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