#italian ghost stories

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

The wanderer: Pt 1

I loved my ball. It had been with me for a dozen years, since I was but a child. To the untrained eye, it was a generic squishy ball, the sort you might find in a child's playset. But if you asked me, I could think of a dozen fond memories with it, playing with friends at parties, bouncing it while I was bored, squeezing it in my hand as I cried. It was, for all of its lack of anthropomorphism, a friend. Sure, seventeen year olds were a bit too old to play with toys, but I had always had a childish streak.

That was why, when it rolled into a drain, I jumped after it without a second thought. The drain was narrow, too short for me to stand fully, so I knelt to get in. My shoulders and hips were twisted to the side awkwardly, one leg trailing behind the other like I was lunging, but I kept shuffling forward.

It was dark, too. Light filtered through the fixed grilles, creating a patchwork of bright and dark that guided me. As I went on, my front knee aching from the strain, rough stone rubbing against my sides, I began worrying.

Had I missed the ball? It seemed like I had been walking on forever. It occurred to me that I wasn't quite sure how to back out again. I couldn't turn around, and moving backwards would be a laborious process. The pain in my legs grew, and so did my panic.

The stone seemed to entomb me, rubbing against my back and chest, keeping me from breathing deeply. What if I was trapped here, forever? Would anyone hear me when I screamed? Still I kept moving. Stupid, blind loyalty to my ball would not allow me to back out.

I wanted to crack my neck, but there just wasn't enough space. The hand that I used to support myself began burning, the skin rubbed raw. I was coated in a layer of dirty water and dust, my clothes clinging to me. Still I kept moving. It was too late to back out, now.

The lights became further and further apart, grilles turning to thick concrete slabs. Was the passageway narrowing? I felt squashed, compressed into a cube. Everything burned. Still I kept moving.

My breath came in shuddering gasps. It was so dark. Where was the light? I wanted to collapse, my thighs trembling with the agony of constant weight. But if I fell now, I would not get back up.

So I kept moving.

And eventually I reached an exit, where the drain led to an opening. Light, proper sunlight, shone in an uninterrupted ray. And where it fell sat my ball, haloed like an angel. I pushed myself forward and grabbed it, just as my legs gave in. Collapsing, I clutched my ball to my chest and rested.

After an indecipherable amount of time, I got up. My back ached, but the worst was over. Figuring that I could just follow the drain back home, instead of taking the gruelling underground route, I stepped out into the light.

I had no idea where I was, save that it was filthy. A layer of grime and rust coated every surface, and the light highlighted smog in the air. Suddenly the drain seemed to be a fine way back home.

Was it a scrapyard? There were machine parts scattered in heaps, serrated metal jutting out in piles. But there was flesh, too. Rotten, stinking corpses of things that were not human, their skeletons smashed to unrecognisable bits, blood like a dried up fountain staining the ground red-brown.

Was it a garbage heap? Perhaps a butchery was nearby, and these were the remains of their products. But the corpses were too whole for that, and they had been mauled rather than butchered. There was too much violence in the air, too much blood and fury.

So was I somewhere else entirely? I turned back to look at the fateful passageway. Here, in this strange place, it was a concrete tunnel, with walls and a ceiling thick enough to bear my weight. I stepped atop it, and began following it like a trail.

The desolation stretched as far as the eye could see, machine and monster intermingled endlessly. The sky was cloudless, the sun beating down on me relentlessly. The mud that was smeared all over me began to dry, leaving me caked in dirt. I fit right in, an explorer in a post-apocalyptic world.

Everything was red, from the viscera to the corrosion to the soil. Even the sun itself was a massive crimson globe hanging in a fiery sky. Only my little pathway home, my fateful drain, was a grey testament to a different colour.

My old taped-up sneakers were a blessing in that endless slog, the socks mercifully dry, even as my feet grumbled, a steady pain that was dwarfed by the anguish of the drain. I squeezed my precious ball repeatedly, as if to remind myself that it was still there, and kept a brisk pace.

It seemed that I was the only person for miles around. Nothing stirred in the red-brown meadow, not even buzzing flies laying eggs in putrefied flesh. Nothing breathed in the flesh-rotted air, not even carrion-vultures feasting on the dead. Nothing lived in the hellscape that I wandered, not even the crawling maggots that should have lurked in the rotten meat. I hummed to distract myself from the uneasiness of being all alone.

As if the sound awakened something, I heard a shrieking cry. It came from above, a haunting, sorrowful noise. 'Run,’ it seemed to say. 'This place is not for you. Whilst your heart still beats, you must leave.’

I heeded it, my pace quickening. The scream came again, closer this time. I looked up to see a great serpent in the sky. Blood gushed from a dozen wounds, and it released a third cry of agony. Even so, it twisted in the air magnificently, looping in the sky with peerless grace, silver scales glittering in the sun.

I stopped to stare, awestruck. Some things in this world can only be experienced, and the sight of that dragon was one of them. No words could describe the regality, the raw determination, the sheer terrifying power of it.

I was watching a god fall, and I knew it. My heart wenched as it released a final ululation, a serenade to the dying world, and hung in the air for an infinite moment.

Then it collapsed, dropping like a stone into the mass graveyard that surrounded me. When it landed, a thump resounded through the world, like the land itself had broken upon impact. The dead dragon was lost amidst the gore and gears, and I wept for it.

I wept for that dragon and the untold horrors of the world I wandered through. I wept for fear that I would never get home, for the pains in my body and the grime all over me. I wept and wept and wept, clutching my ball like a security blanket and walking all the while.

Finally, I let out a scream. It was a hoarse, thin thing, a poor mimicry of the full howl the serpent had produced, but it was all I could make.

When the cascade of tears subsided, I found myself standing at the end of the path. I was not home, not yet. But I had found something else, something that belonged to my world.

A train station.

[twittercomfrnklin2001-blog]

Murder Mansion

There are days I question this whole “I watch these so you don’t have to” approach to criticism. In Francisco Lara Polo’s debut feature MURDER MANSION (1972, Shudder, Tubi, YouTube, because why should I suffer alone) — aka THE MURDER MANSION aka MANIAC MANSION aka LA MANSION DE LA NIEBLA — a bunch of people wander around in the fog until they stumble on a spooky house in which to shelter. The writers, however, would appear never to have found their way out of the fog. Do I need to tell you the mansion is reputed to be haunted? Not if you watch it. There’s a pretty blonde (Evelyn Stewart) living there who tells them all about how her great aunt was supposed to be a witch or a vampire or something, and we later discover her coffin is empty. The old lady and her chauffeur died in a car wreck but keep showing up to torment the guests. At least I could wake myself up whenever the chauffeur appeared by shouting “Max! Max! Max!” at the screen. The guests include an heiress (Analia Gade) who has endless flashbacks that have no real bearing on the plot but help get the film to feature length and a drunken middle-aged wretch who stumbles around the place looking for female companionship. When Gade rejects him, he calls her a lesbian. I call her sensible. But then she proves me wrong with a mad scene that seems to have been cut in from an episode of SCTV. That rather fits the film, since the music labeled “ominous” by the closed captioning would be more appropriate in a Snagglepuss cartoon. The film has good color, to give the wretched piece it’s due (sorry, Sir Noel), which some viewers have mistaken for atmosphere. They’ve compared it to the work of Mario Bava and Dario Argento. That would suggest that some viewers really don’t understand Bava or Argento.

[bitter1stuff]

Mario Bava's The Whip and the Body. 1963: Happy Christopher Lee's Birthday

[alightinthelantern]

Movies on Youtube:

Brief Encounter (1945, David Lean)

Opening Night (1977, John Cassavetes)

Close Up (1990, Abbas Kiarostami)

Taste of Cherry (1997, Abbas Kiarostami)

The Song of Sparrows (2008,  Majid Majidi)

Russian Ark (2002, Alexander Sokurov)

Dreams (1990, Akira Kurosawa)

Dersu Uzala (1975, Akira Kurosawa)

The Idiot (1951, Akira Kurosawa)

Drunken Angel (1948, Akira Kurosawa)

Tokyo Story (1953, Yasujirō Ozu)

Early Summer (1951, Yasujirō Ozu)

Late Spring (1949, Yasujirō Ozu)

The Flavor of Green Tea over Rice (1952, Yasujirō Ozu)

Good Morning (1959, Yasujirō Ozu)

An Autumn Afternoon (1962, Yasujirō Ozu)

Sword for Hire (1952, Inagaki Hiroshi)

Rebecca (1940, Alfred Hitchcock)

Thunderbolt (1929, Josef von Sternberg)

Larceny (1948, George Sherman)

Among the Living (1941, Stuart Heisler)

Andrei Rublev (1966, Andrei Tarkovsky)

Mirror (1975, Andrei Tarkovsky)

Solaris (1972, Andrei Tarkovsky)

Ivan’s Childhood (1962, Andrei Tarkovsky)

Aguirre, the Wrath of God (1972, Werner Herzog)

Fitzcarraldo (1982, Werner Herzog)

Medea (1969, Pier Paolo Pasolini)

Medea (filmed stageplay)

Is It Easy To Be Young? (1986, Juris Podnieks)

We'll Live Till Monday (1968, Stanislav Rostotsky)

Ordinary Fascism (aka Triumph Over Violence) (1965, Mikhail Romm)

Battleship Potemkin (1925, Sergei Eisenstein)

The Third Man (1949, Carol Reed)

Johnny Come Lately (1943, William K. Howard)

Mister 880 (1950, Edmund Goulding)

Beethoven’s Eroica (2003, Simon Cellan Jones)

Katyn (2007, Andrzej Wajda)

Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events (2004, Brad Silberling)

Mean Girls (2004, Mark Waters)

The Neverending Story (1984, Wolfgang Petersen)

The NeverEnding Story II: The Next Chapter (1990, George T. Miller)

The Thief and the Cobbler (Richard Williams)

Osmosis Jones (2001, myriad directors)

Megamind (2010, Tom McGrath)

Ghost in the Shell (1995, Mamoru Oshii)

Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence (2004, Mamoru Oshii)

Steamboy (2004, Katsuhiro Otomo)

Badlands (1973), Terrence Malick

Wargames (1983, John Badham)

By the White Sea (2022, Aleksandr Zachinyayev)

White Moss (2014, Vladimir Tumayev)

The Theme (1979, Gleb Panfilov)

The Duchess (2008, Saul Dibb)

Bed and Sofa (1927, Abram Room)

Fate of a Man (1959, Sergei Bondarchuk)

Ballad of a Soldier (1959, Grigory Chukhray)

Uncle Vanya (1970, Andrey Konchalovskiy)

An Unfinished Piece for Mechanical Piano (1977, Nikita Mikhalkov)

Family Relations (1981, Nikita Mikhalkov)

The Seagull (1970, Yuli Karasik)

My Tender and Affectionate Beast (1978, Emil Loteanu)

Dreams (1993, Karen Shakhnazarov & Alexander Borodyansky)

The Vanished Empire (2008, Karen Shakhnazarov)

Winter Evening in Gagra (1985, Karen Shakhnazarov)

Day of the Full Moon (1998, Karen Shakhnazarov)

Zero Town (1989, Karen Shakhnazarov)

The Girls (1961, Boris Bednyj)

The Diamond Arm (1969, Leonid Gaidai)

Operation Y and Shurik's Other Adventures (1965, Leonid Gaidai)

Ivan Vasilievich Changes Profession (1973, Leonid Gaidai)

Unbelievable Adventures of Italians in Russia (1974, Eldar Ryazanov & Franco Prosperi)

Office Romance (1977, Eldar Ryazanov)

Carnival Night (1956, Eldar Ryazanov)

Hussar Ballad (1962, Eldar Ryazanov)

Kin-dza-dza! (1986, Georgiy Daneliya)

The Most Charming and Attractive (1985, Gerald Bezhanov)

Autumn (1974, Andrei Smirnov)

War and Peace: Part 1 (1966, Sergei Bondarchuk)

War and Peace: Part 2 (1966, Sergei Bondarchuk)

War and Peace: Part 3 (1967, Sergei Bondarchuk)

War and Peace: Part 4 (1967, Sergei Bondarchuk)

The Red Tent (first half) (1969, Mikhail Kalatozov)

The Red Tent (second half) (1969, Mikhail Kalatozov)

Sherlock Holmes: The Hound of the Baskervilles (1939, Sidney Lanfield)

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes (1939, Alfred L. Werker)

Sherlock Holmes and the Voice of Terror (1942, John Rawlins)

Sherlock Holmes and the Secret Weapon (1943, Roy William Neill)

Sherlock Holmes in Washington (1943, Roy William Neill)

Sherlock Holmes Faces Death (1943, Roy William Neill)

Sherlock Holmes: The Spider Woman (1944, Roy William Neill)

Sherlock Holmes: The Scarlet Claw (1944, Roy William Neill)

Sherlock Holmes: The Pearl of Death (1944, Roy William Neill)

Sherlock Holmes: The House of Fear (1945, Roy William Neill)

Sherlock Holmes: The Woman in Green (1945, Roy William Neill)

Sherlock Holmes: Pursuit to Algiers (1945, Roy William Neill)

Sherlock Holmes: Terror by Night (1946, Roy William Neill)

Sherlock Holmes: Dressed to Kill (1946, Roy William Neill)

If any of the links don’t work, try looking up the film in this playlist: link

[put-me-through-the-wall]

Girl Next Door- Pt. 2

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x reader

Word count: 3k

Summary: Simon finally accept your offer for dinner. Did you mention you can cook?

A/N: I was a little slow on this but the idea of them getting close was stressing me out, okay? Also my MIL was in town and I couldn't get in the groove. All the support so far is amazing, thank you guys so much! If y'all like it there will be more to come. Warning: still slow burning

Join my Taglist

Part I

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Simon sits across from you at your tiny dining table pressed against the wall of your cramped kitchen. You managed to lure him in with a fairly nice bottle of unopened scotch you found in the back of your cabinet that had potentially fallen into one of your own boxes when moving from your ex's house. 

He looks around your quaint little one bedroom apartment. It was a lot different than his own. The literal layout was the same. No extra rooms or walls but you’d done something different in here. The whole space had a cozy feeling to it. Every surface was decorated with useless gadgets and trinkets that he didn't understand the purpose of. Lots of blankets, pillows, soft things. You had music quietly playing through your TV speakers in the living room. A few lamps fill the dim room creating a subtle yellow glow that hits the high points of your face, softening your tired features.

"Do you think there's something wrong with me?" you suddenly blurt out.

"S'cuse me?" Simon asks, caught off guard by the question.

"Lately I've been feeling like there's something inside of me that attracts horrible guys. Like, is there a beacon coming out my head that says 'hey, come over here. I'm vulnerable and easy'."

Simon pauses, unsure how to respond. He watches your face closely. You're sad eyes looking to him for an answer he doesn't have. "I think you're...nice," but he has a feeling that's not what you wanted to hear.

"nice?" You let out a humorless laugh. "Maybe that's the problem. Nice must translate to doormat," You sigh and drop your head into your hands. 

Simon takes a sip of his drink. He's growing concerned this is entering too friendly territory. Then you pop your head back up.

"So, how much did you hear?"

"Not much"

"Yeah right," You toss him a coy smile. “Can I tell you what happened?”

“Sure,”

“Alright, so” you take a sip of your own drink and a deep breath before recounting your story. "I met him at work. He was really nice and offered to pick me up a coffee on his way in one day. I haven’t made any friends at work yet so it was nice just to chat over a coffee. Then we started having lunch together. Nothing serious just in the break room but it felt good to hear about something other than notes from my editor. I wasn’t looking for anything serious, I mean I moved here to focus on myself not continue dating more crappy guys. So of course he started texting me and he was really sweet. He complimented my outfits and thought all my jokes were hilarious apparently. I really wasn’t trying to get involved with this guy though. He said something about hearing I can cook and of course I said I do. It’s part of my job, duh. He’s giving my shit about it so I invited him over for dinner. I made this creamy potato gnocchi with Italian sausage that I got from that great butcher on the corner. I even hand rolled the gnocchi. I mean, who wouldn't kill for an authentic Italian meal?"

"He's sounds like some guy"

"Not really, I was testing out a new recipe for the column so, two birds one stone. Anyways, he comes up and we have some wine and listen to some music. It was going really well so far. Then I go to bring out a nice charcuterie board for an appetizer while the pasta finishes baking. While I'm bringing it to him I can see he's on his phone, texting someone and literally giggling. I walk up behind him and he is sexting. On my couch!" you throw you hands up incredulously. "Well, I thought he was. He’s looking at a picture of some girl bent over then I realize it’s me. He took a picture of my ass, while I was making him dinner. I couldn't fucking believe it. What kind of a scumbag does that to a woman preparing a fucking meal for him? Now, this is not something I'm proud of so let the record show this is very out of character for me but these were extraordinary circumstances. So, I dropped the fig chutney on his head. Right in his stupid quaffed hair. He jumps up and he's all mad and starts yelling and I'm yelling back. He calls me a crazy bitch then I call him a perv. After that he left." you conclude with a shrug.

"Wow" Simon responds, truly taken aback by the series of events. 

"Yeah, then you know the rest from there. I don't know what came over me. I guess after my last breakup I haven't felt very good about myself and this guy made me feel, I don't know- fun? That feels silly to say. I should’ve known better from a guy that works the celebrity gossip section. I probably looked like a big baby out there, how dramatic. I'm sorry about that, again."

"You don't need to apologize."

"After I moved here I thought things would be different. I thought guys in the city were classier I guess. Turns out all guys are the same. Just take what they want and go. Do you want another drink?" You point to his now empty glass. 

"Sure." You snag his cup and stand. He watches you walk over to the counter in your silky slip dress. The sleek fabric clings to your waist. Flaring around your hips and down your thighs. The warm light reflects on the shiny material, shifting with each step you take. It tightens perfectly about your waist and cinched with a neat little bow in the back. He wonders why you would wear a dress like that for this guy.

"So, do you date?" you question in a seemingly casual tone.

"No" 

"Yeah right," you laugh and look over your shoulder to see his stoney expression and your smile fades. "Oh, sorry, I just- I find that hard to believe."

"Why is that?" He tilts his head and you focus back on filling his glass. 

"It's just, you're a good looking guy. I would think you'd get plenty of female attention," You pivot back around and place the glass before him. You lean on the table with one hand and prop the other on your waist. 

"'M not interested," his gaze stays fixed on the brown liquid, grabbing it and taking another sip. He doesn't miss the way you deflated the slightest bit. 

"Maybe I should take a page out of your book, as in maybe swearing off men completely" The oven timer dings. "Oh! pasta!" You jump over and grab your oven mitts. You drop the oven door and slide out the sizzling dish. An aroma of cheese and basil fills the air. Your stomach audibly growls.

You pull down two plates from your cabinet. You serve up the steaming pasta, sprinkling parmesan and fresh chopped herbs for garnish. You proudly carry over the two dishes and place them carefully on the table. You place your hands on your hips while gazing down at the platter.

"This looks...great." Simon is truly taken aback by the incredible looking dish. 

"Wait, don't eat yet. Let me get a picture." You scamper into your living room, grabbing your phone off the coffee table and scurrying back. You hold your phone high above for a birds eye view. Simon scoots his chair back to avoid the gaze of the lens. The camera clicks with a flash. You examine the photo, seeming satisfied with the quality and finally taking a seat in your own chair. "It was okay if you were in the picture. I don't mind." 

"I do," he says simply. 

To anyone else, Simon comes off as rude or callous but you, you never seem to let his shortness affect you. You take his words and just keep going. You don't mind his lack of conversation. It seems you are totally satisfied with having someone there to listen. He was starting to think he didn't mind listening so much. 

"Oh," You shift uncomfortably in your chair. "Sorry then. Well, let me know what you think. Try to be detailed with your feelings about it if you can. You're my guinea pig and be honest. I don't want to put this out when it's garbage."

He proceeds to take a forkful in his mouth. He cannot control the groan that escapes his throat as the bold flavor hits his tongue. This is far cry from his usual take away food. He can't remember the last time he had a home cooked meal now that he thinks about it. 

"This is quite good." He grumbled between bites. Not caring to finish chewing before he's stabbing at the pasta on the plate once again. 

"Really? You don't need to be nice to spare my feelings. I don't mind criticism."

He shoves more in his mouth. "I’m serious"

"Thank you" You giggle watching him scarf down the still steaming hot meal. 

The two of you finish your respective plates without much more conversation to be had. On your last few bites you meet Simon's eyes as he reclines back in the creaky wooden chair, hands laying across his stomach. His head tips back with a satisfied grumble making a proud smile play across your lips. This may be the first time you've seen him express a true human emotion in your presence. 

"There's more if you want?"

"No, I'm stuffed." 

If you know one thing as a part time chef, food is the way to a man's heart. You knew if Simon tasted what you could make his ice exterior would melt away. You stand up and walk to the fridge. 

"Too stuffed for dessert?" you pull out a glass bowl filled with layers of custard, strawberries, cake, and whipped cream. "I made a traditional English trifle. Y'know for the holidays coming up and who doesn't love custard?" you shrug while carrying the bowl over to the table. You hurry back to the kitchen to grab two saucers and plate up the dessert.

"If I didn't know any better I'd say you're trying to butter me up." he comments, intently watching as you carefully slice through the layers. "What do you know about English food?" 

"Not much, which is why this is a special occasion. I can get some insight from a genuine Englishman," you slide the saucer to him. "Everything happens for a reason, I guess you were meant to be here tonight" you don’t realize how weird that comment is until it's already left your mouth. You suppress the feeling and internally cringe. You take a seat with your own plate and try a bite. "Hey, that's not too bad. I think Gordon Ramsey would be proud"

Simon actually chuckles when you compliment yourself making you giggle in return. This whole night is very different than you expected. Not that you were complaining.

Your leg bumps his underneath the narrow table. Your bare foot brushing up the edge of his pant leg for the briefest moment. A deep blush rises to your cheeks the second you realize it's his leg instead of the table's. 

"Oh, sorry!" you quickly draw your legs underneath your chair. Simon pauses his eating and meets your gaze. 

"S'alright," he slowly slides his long leg across the distance and nudges the shin of your tucked legs with the toe of his boot. "You scared?"

"What?" you allow your legs to relax, your calves sitting on either side of his outstretched leg. It felt natural, almost domestic. "You don't scare me." you're lying paired with an anxious laugh.

"No?" As he says this his foot shifts underneath the supports of your chair and yanks it forward causing your chair to skid a few inches across the tile, pressing you further into the table as you let you a surprised yelp. Hands brace against the edge of the table. Simon maintains his calm composure. "Are you sure?" he takes another bite of the fluffy dessert. 

You weren't sure if it was the liquor going to your head or the rush of adrenaline but you felt bold. You rest your cheek on your propped up hand, offering the most innocent eyes you can muster, as you delicately slide your foot along the smooth leather of his boot. Simon swallows and gently places his fork back on the table.

"What do you think of it?" you question in a hushed tone. your foot travels further up his ankle, dipping under his pant leg to feel his hot skin underneath. 

"It's sweet," He states simply but his words roll off his tongue smooth as butter. 

"Not too sweet?" You tilt your head the slightest bit.

"Hm," he hums in contemplation. Your eyes drift down to watch his hands grasp his drink. He grips the glass in his large palm. The rolled sleeves of his long sleeve reveal the muscles in his arm shifting when he raises the glass to his mouth. For the first time you notice a faint raised scar cutting through the outer corner of his lip and stopping just shy of the edge of his nose. He takes a long swig of the brown liquid, not quite finishing the drink. As he pulls back his lips glisten in the warm light. "Not bad when it's paired with a stiff drink," his tongue is quick to swipe across, collecting the residue. 

"I'll be sure to make a note of that." you smile sweetly. "Can I get you another drink?" You look down at the last sip coating the bottom of the glass. You make sure to flutter your lashes when you look back up at him. 

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" A smirk raises the corner of his mouth.

"No," you laugh. "Why, do you want me to?" 

He releases a deep gravelly laugh that makes your stomach stir. Then he glances at his watch and your stomach drops. 

"I need to get going." He mumbles. He pulls his leg away from yours and rises out of his chair. 

"Wait," you rush to stand, almost knocking your seat over in the process. "Can I- uh- get you a bit of pasta to go? There’s plenty left" Trying to think of any excuse to keep him here a moment longer. 

"S'okay, save it. Maybe I'll come by another time." He turns and steps out of your kitchen and into the hallway leading to your front door in only a few wide strides. 

"Are you sure?" You don't intend for your voice to come out as needy as it does. You follow on his heels like a lost puppy.

"I've got an early morning." Before he reaches the door he turns, seemingly surprised by how close you are to him. He looks down at your big round eyes. 

"Okay," you smile trying not to look defeated. "Well, you're welcome over anytime. I mean it, just knock and I'll probably be home. I'm gonna try writing at home more. Try to avoid that guy." You let out a halfhearted chuckle. "Maybe, you should get my number. Y'know, in case you want to check if I'm home."

"I'm alright, I'll just knock" His hand finds the doorknob. "Thanks for dinner, it was nice" Then he turns to go. Closing the door politely behind him. 

You rush to the peephole, watching his distorted figure step out of sight followed by the sound of his own door shutting. You rest your hot forehead against the cool wood grain of your door. 

You step back in the kitchen and begin putting away the leftovers. Piling the pasta into tupperware, rinsing the plates, collecting silverware. His glass remains in place with a sliver of scotch leftover. You hold the glass up in the light and see a faint smudge on its rim. You twist the cup around so your own mouth lines up with the imprint he left. You swallow the last bit slowly, savoring the way the sharp burn eases into a smooth, smoky aftertaste. You never liked scotch, but now you are starting to understand the meaning of an acquired taste.

The low atmospheric music is abruptly interrupted by an ad loudly cutting through the calm space. You rush into the living room to find the remote, hiding among the cushions and various throw pillows. Growing frustrated you end up walking over and manually hitting the power button. The silence that replaces it isn’t much better though. You step back and let your weak legs carry you until you collapse onto the comfort of your couch. The wine followed by the glass of scotch you polished off makes your head feel light but your limbs so heavy. You turn from your back to your side, realizing the used glass is still clutched in your hand. 

You reach across the gap and set it down on the coffee table with a thud. Your hand retreats back to rest under your head. You stare at it, taking in all the imperfections left on its reflective surface. Your eyes trace the rim once again looking for the smudge. On the corner you see the shadow of an impression peeking out underneath the red lipstick mark you have smeared over it. 

𝜗𝜚

Across the wall Simon falls back on his own couch. He looks around his dull apartment wondering what you have done differently to make your place look so welcoming. He never minded the minimal decorations he had. A photo frame with his team that his buddy gifted him and a couple of books always seemed like enough. After comparison though it just feels empty. 

He can hear you stomp across your floor. Footstep rushing from the kitchen until you're straight ahead. The sound of your TV turning off bathes the room in sudden silence. Only thing he can hear now is the rushing of his air conditioning unit. He considered your music annoying but now he couldn’t deny the way it added an unconscious energy to the small unit. Now sitting here, the cool tone of the overhead kitchen light illuminating into the living room he feels as though something is missing. Maybe a nice lamp would help. 

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

@azkza @neurolept @contractedcriteria @hidden-treasures21 @sprokat @stark-red19

[insteviewetrust]

Au where Steve was always able to talk to ghosts. He talks to his grandparents regularly, his granny thought him italian when he was little (I do love a italo-american Steve), and how to cook something easy when his parents started to go on longer work trips when he was thirteen. He watched old movies he found in the basement, and soon found out they were his grandpa's. After that, whole afternoons spent watching old westerns on the tv with Otis.

Steve being able to talk to Barb, telling her stories of what's happening, buying the books she wanted to buy but hadn't had the time to, reading them with her, let her cry and scream at the unfairness that was her death- she just wanted to have fun, to be seen and be with Nancy and-. He always cried with her, but rarely said anything. She needed someone to listen to her.

Steve screaming at the others that Eddie wasn't dead, he couldn't be, because he tried to contact him, and he couldn't and that has got to mean something . He would know, he would know, he would know, why don't they trust him?!

Steve deciding to go back to the Upside Down, and not finding Eddie's body. He knew it. But the smugness ended quickly, because if Eddie wasn't there, then where the fuck was he? What had happened?

He soon finds out when a creature with leathery wings and sharp teeths breaths down on the back of his neck, startling him from his panicked thoughts. "Stevie..."

Now with an addiction

[mx-pastelwriting]

Ghost HC - Taking a nap in the Papa's lap while they work

Papa Emeritus x GN! Reader

Summary: Taking a nap in the Papa's lap while they work.

Warnings: Fluff, Established Relationship, Lap Sitting, Napping/Sleeping

Characters: Primo, Secondo, Terzo, Copia

Primo

- Very open and used to it, being the eldest of his brothers having experience soothing someone to sleep, especially in his lap. It had been years since then, as his brothers were no longer little.

- Surprised at first, looking up from his work, seeing your tired face welcoming you with open arms, with mixed feelings of love and guilt from working late, leaving you sleepless in a cold bed.

- Wrapping you up in his warm arms, gently patting your back, patiently waiting for sleep to take effect. Once asleep, he returns to work, writing quietly, planting kisses on your head with every page turn.

- Giving a dirty look to anyone who entered his office, sister, papa, or ghoul all get the same treatment, even kicking those who were too loud out. Even with the ones who were lucky to stay, he ignored their stares while forcing them to talk in a whisper.

- Once finished with his work, feeling another pang of guilt having to wake you, choosing to do so with soft kisses while cupping your face whispering sweet Italian nothings.

Primo sighed at the loud noise of his office door being opened, seeing Terzo's head poke in, greeted with the eldest crooked stare. The stare did little to his younger brother, watching as he threw a folder on the desk with a loud smack.

"You haven't changed one bit, brother." Putting down his pen at Terzo's words, giving a harder stare to his brother's smug face. "Did they get a bedtime story too?" he says lastly before rushing out of the office to avoid Primo's protective wrath.

However, as you stirred against his chest, the wrath swiftly dissipated, causing the papa to forget the stack of work before him and embrace you tightly, patiently waiting for sleep to return.

-

Secondo

- Would have to talk him into it or beg, as he always hated when Terzo would fall asleep on his shoulder when they were little, but seeing your tired face, he folds so fast. Spending his evening in the ministry's front room, sat on the long couch next to the stained-glass window, looking over sister's response to his filings.

- Feeling your presence behind the packet of papers, seeing you wrapped in a blanket, begging. With a loud sigh, picking up the stack of papers on his lap, throwing them to the floor.

- Even when cuddling in bed, he sighs, acting slightly annoyed, but secretly loves every minute of your sleeping face lying comfortably on his chest. Placing one hand on your back, caressing lightly while continuing to look over paperwork.

- Wouldn't bother looking at who passed by, sister or papa, but always looked down at you when Siblings of Sin walked by, whispering amongst each other about the sight. The reputation of Secondo was one of many rumors, yet here you were sparking new ones.

- Fails to even finish his work, being so comfortable, papers still in hand as he nods off. Waking up from his snores, leaving you with the job of putting the papa to bed.

Waking to the loud rumble of snores, sitting up in the papa's lap, seeing the melted sleeping face of Secondo. Holding back a laugh as his mouth hung agape, looking around, spotting the papers that were loosely clutching in his hand.

Removing the files from his hand to the other side of the couch before thinking of how to wake him. Cupping the papa's face lightly, only getting to plant a single kiss before quickly waking up, smiling at his confused state. Moving off Secondo's lap, slowly getting used to standing, taking his hand and pulling up, holding back a joke about his old bones.

-

Terzo

- Does not understand when first being asked, assuming you mean something else that involves his lap. Only once you climb onto his lap and cuddle up does he understand with a small "Oh." Though it is somewhat new to him, only having your past nights together will give him an idea.

- Having stayed in the ministry's library for the whole morning ordered by sister to reread the teachings, so when you appear, he's so happy, kicking the book aside.

- A bit disappointed you didn't take him away from all the work, but nonetheless, he holds you close. Wrapping his arms around you while holding the book up against your back, resting against his chest, having a racing heartbeat to fall asleep to.

- Sitting in the back corner of the library, liking for people to have the thrill of finding him, just to tease them when they do. So only his ghouls ever came across the sight, but they cared very little about their papa's antics.

- Lasting only thirty minutes before putting down the book, turning his attention to you. Lovingly admiring your sleeping face, tempted to shower you with kisses, though holding back, not wanting to wake you even if it meant spending the night sitting in the quiet library.

Gently, Terzo's hand glided up and down your back, feeling the soft fabric that covered it, using both arms to hold you close and safe, not caring for the book of teachings.

Being ready to take sister's scolding later, her words pushed out of his mind in place of you. Looking softly with his two-toned eyes at your smushed face that lay against his chest. Imagining you heard every breath and race of his heart from your presence alone, carefully placing a kiss atop your head, causing a stir of movement, quickly the papa held his breath, fearing he'd woken you.

-

Copia

- Agrees shyly to the ask, a bit overwhelmed, feeling you on his lap, making it harder to concentrate. In the past, having many cuddle parties with the rats and him, but this was very different, being so closely intimate with no moves to escalation.

- Interrupting his work of looking over the new tour dates, sat on the living room couch late in the evening. Thinking it was time for dinner when you came to him only stopping from getting up when you asked.

- Confusingly agrees, only realizing what he agreed to when you sit down, hesitantly taking you in his arms, struggling a bit to go back to reading. When used to the loving action, he rests his head atop yours, tempted to fall asleep himself.

- A bit embarrassed if someone came across the sight, wanting to move in his seat, but warned not to by your stirs. After a few times getting used to being seen in such a tender position, even by sister, he still squirms a bit, but her smile reassures him.

- In the end, when sister comes in to call you both for dinner, she withdraws after seeing not wanting to interrupt, instead having one of his ghouls bring up some plates to your shared room.

Slipping out of the cold bed, sleepily waddling out of the bedroom into the living room, met the sight of Copia nose-deep in tour dates.

"Cardi," your voice turns his attention, slowly putting down the stapled papers with eyes that soften at the sight of you. "Can I take a nap with you?" quickly, nodding to your question, climbing onto his lap, lying against his chest.

Tangling up his limbs with yours, then planting a kiss on your cheek before finding a way to go back to reading smiling at the sound of your snores.

Lightly patting your back while reading along the lines, not hearing sister's heels echoing down the hall. Spooked by the sound of a knock and the front door opening, sister's head in the opening before quickly retreating, seeing the sight of you two.

-

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @littlebitchsposts @urlocalfanficwriter

[furiarossa]

Danny Runner is a fourteen-year-old boy with a normal family: mom, dad, a nerdy older sister... and a secret.

Because what kind of fourteen-year-old are you if you don't have a secret? Danny's, however, is terrible and scary: something happened to him, an accident, yes... an accident that is transforming him into something else, something inhuman.

Danny is scared. And alone. And he knows he can't ask his parents for help.

Until he meets someone who seems to have contracted the same strange condition: it is Vladislav Korolkrovi, a mysterious figure from his parents' past. Danny asks him for help... but it seems that this is the biggest mistake of his life.

And this is where the hunt begins.

Get ready to run, exploring a new world, among creatures never seen before and others that, familiar as a recurring dream, will tell you the mythological story... of ghosts!

Temporary cover (we'll make a better one later!) for a book inspired by Danny Phantom, a new story (a completely new rewriting, if you will) that you can both read as a fanfiction (if you know who are the characters to which we are referring) and as a new, original story, because we're gonna introduce everyone from the start :)

We're gonna slowly post the story here:

A03: [English][Italian]

Wattpad: [English][Italian]

★ Instagram|Facebook|FurAffinity|Deviantart|Commission prices★

[goryhorroor]

Upcoming horror movies (some without release years) - not in order

Longlogs - FBI Agent Lee Harker is assigned to an unsolved serial killer case that takes an unexpected turn, revealing evidence of the occult. Harker discovers a personal connection to the killer and must stop him before he strikes again.

Nosferatu - A gothic tale of obsession between a haunted young woman and the terrifying vampire infatuated with her, causing untold horror in its wake.

Bermuda - Unknown details but it will be set in the mysterious patch of the Caribbean where planes and ships have gone missing over the years.

Twisters (ok thriller but imma count it because i can) - A sequel to the 1996 film about stormchasing scientists studying tornados.

Immaculate - Cecilia is warmly welcomed to the picture-perfect Italian countryside, where she is offered a new role at an illustrious convent. But it becomes clear to Cecilia that her new home harbors dark and horrifying secrets.

Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire - The film centers on the Spengler family as they return to where it all started – the iconic New York City firehouse – to team up with the original Ghostbusters, who’ve developed a top-secret research lab to take busting ghosts to the next level. But when the discovery of an ancient artifact unleashes an evil force, Ghostbusters new and old must join forces to protect their home and save the world from a second Ice Age.

Mickey's Mouse Trap - follows a group of friends who become targets of a serial killer dressed as Mickey Mouse

Imaginary - When Jessica moves back into her childhood home with her family, her youngest stepdaughter Alice develops an eerie attachment to a stuffed bear named Chauncey she finds in the basement.  Alice's games with Chauncey become increasingly sinister, and Jessica intervenes only to realize Chauncey is much more than the stuffed toy bear she believed him to be.

Skeletons in the Closet - Haunted by a malevolent spirit since childhood, a desperate mother allows herself to become possessed in order to save the life of her terminally ill daughter.

Lisa Frankenstein - love story about a misunderstood teenager and her high school crush, who happens to be a handsome corpse. After a set of playfully horrific circumstances bring him back to life, the two embark on a murderous journey to find love, happiness… and a few missing body parts along the way.

Winnie The Pooh: Blood & Honey 2 - oh yay? I guess a sequel

Adrift - It is described as a supernatural ghost story set aboard a ship. It is an adaptation of a short story by Koji Suzuki

Dustbunny - It follows a young girl who asks her neighbor to help her kill a monster under her bed after she thinks it has eaten her family.

Faces of Death -  follows a woman who discovers violent videos that recreate death scenes from movies online. 

Heretic -  two religious women who become the focus of a strange man's games. 

History of Evil - In the near future, war and corruption have plagued America and turned it into a theocratic police state. Against the oppression, ordinary citizens have formed a group called The Resistance. One such member, Alegre Dyer, breaks out of political prison and reunites with her husband Ron and daughter Daria. On the run from the militia, the family takes shelter in a remote safe house. But their journey is far from over, as the house’s dark past begins to eat away at Ron, and his earnest desire to keep his family safe is overtaken by something much more sinister.

MaXXXine - Six years after the ‘Texas Pornhouse Massacre’, Maxine is now LA-based and on a driven quest to become a star in the acting world. But things take a sinister turn when bodies once again begin to fall around her.

Dracula - A futuristic sci-fi western version of Dracula.

Apartment 7A - Prequel to the 1968 film Rosemary’s Baby.

Baghead - follows a young woman who inherits a run-down pub and discovers a dark secret within its basement. Enter Baghead - a shape-shifting creature that will let you speak to lost loved ones, but not without consequence. 

Out of Darkness - In the Old Stone Age, a disparate gang of early humans band together in search of a new land. But when they suspect a malevolent, mystical, being is hunting them down, the clan are forced to confront a danger they never envisaged.

Stopmotion - stop-motion animator by the name of Ella whose latest project might just be driving her to the brink of madness.

Late Night with the Devil - 1970s talk show host Jack Delroy on his last legs, wrung out by personal tragedy and in need of a ratings win. His plan to feature as a guest a young girl who is allegedly possessed seems like a Halloween night layup… until the cameras roll and all hell literally breaks loose.

You'll Never Find Me - An isolated man living at the back of a desolate caravan park is visited by a desperate young woman seeking shelter from a violent storm. As the savage storm worsens, these solitary souls begin to feel threatened – but who should really be afraid?

The First Omen - When a young American woman is sent to Rome to begin a life of service to the church, she encounters a darkness that causes her to question her own faith and uncovers a terrifying conspiracy that hopes to bring about the birth of evil incarnate. (this might be a prequel to the omen)

Abigail - After a group of would-be criminals kidnap the 12-year-old ballerina daughter of a powerful underworld figure, all they have to do to collect a $50 million ransom is watch the girl overnight. In an isolated mansion, the captors start to dwindle, one by one, and they discover, to their mounting horror, that they’re locked inside with no normal little girl. 

Return to Silent Hill - James, a man broken after being separated from his one true love. When a mysterious letter calls him back to Silent Hill in search of her, he finds a once-recognizable town transformed by an unknown evil. As James descends deeper into the darkness, he encounters terrifying figures both familiar and new and begins to question his own sanity as he struggles to make sense of reality and hold on long enough to save his lost love.

Infested -  invasion of venomous spiders, forcing residents of a suburban building to find a way out.

Tarot - Tarot follows a group of friends who recklessly violate the sacred rule of Tarot readings – never use someone else’s deck. In the wake of broken rules, consequences follow, this time in the form of unleashing an unspeakable evil trapped within the cursed cards. 

The Strangers Chapter 1 - a couple, have to survive the night while being terrorized by masked strangers in a remote Airbnb in Oregon

The Watchers - the film follows a young woman who becomes trapped with three strangers in a shelter deep within a forest in Ireland where the group must fight off mysterious creatures every night in order to survive. 

Never Let Go - a family who has been tormented by an evil spirit for years as their lives become more dangerous when one of the kids questions if the evil is real. 

The One - Follows character Taylor as she becomes a contestant on a reality TV dating show to find love. Taylor's experience takes a turn as she gets down to the final three and becomes terrified of not finding love (with a horror twist)

Thread: An Insidious Tale - new actors who play a husband and wife who use a spell to travel back in time to prevent their daughter's death, which has worse consequences than imagined

Weapons - The movie is about the disappearance of high school students in a small town, similar to the movie Magonlia's from 1999

A Quiet Place: Day One - New characters in New York

Alien: Romulus - takes place between the first & second movies

Beetlejuice 2 - not much is known about the plot details, but Beetlejuice will have a wife & Lydia's daughter will be in it

Speak No Evil: this is the English remake (all it really says; but it's just the 2022 movie but English?)

Smile 2 - it's a sequel but no details have been revealed

Terrifer 3 - not too many details revealed but it will take place on Christmas Eve

Wolfman - not too many details revealed but it's a new take on the werewolf tale

I Saw The TV Glow - Teenager Owen is just trying to make it through life in the suburbs when his classmate introduces him to a mysterious late-night TV show — a vision of a supernatural world beneath their own. In the pale glow of the television, Owen’s view of reality begins to crack.

Don't Move - A seasoned killer injects a grieving woman with a paralytic agent and she must run, fight and hide before her body completely shuts down.

Arcadian - Nicolas Cage comes back to save the day - and his children - from ferocious creatures at their remote farmhouse.

All My Friends Are Dead - College friends? Remote Airbnb? A secret murderer? What could go wrong in this classic toxic friend group killing spree? Looking forward to attending the biggest music fest of the year, this group of friends get together for what should be a killer weekend.

Monolith - It is about a disgraced journalist who investigates a conspiracy theory while trying to salvage her career.

some movies coming out maybe not this year but have been floating around: The Toxic Avenger (I think remake), Witchboard (remake), Year 2 (about werewolves), Shelby Oaks (A woman's desperate search for her long-lost sister falls into obsession upon realizing that the imaginary demon from their childhood may have been real), Salem's Lot (remake), Little Bites ('70s-set monster movie that highlights the lengths a parent will go to protect a child), The Crow (Reboot), Jordan Peele's untitled movie, I've also seen there's going to be another Saw (but it hasn't been confirmed), and another Scream (but that production is already a trainwreck so who knows)

[miraculousbumbble]

God! Solangelo won't leave me alone omg

Nico, sitting with the other demigod children, telling them the stories of mythical heros like Percy Jackson and Hercules.

Nico, telling young Hermes children stories of the underworld and summoning ghosts to fill them with scary stories at campfires.

Nico, teaching kids Italian and helping them with their English.

Will, using his Texan voice anytime he trains with the campers

Will "Please, I'm still your brother don't call me sir!" Solace talking to the Apollo kids.

Will, teaching kids medicine and first aid. And even tho he's not his father, he still sings them to sleep when the nightmares get bad.

Nico, going on quests of all kinds with the campers so that no more demi gods have to lose their sibling.

Will, constantly waxing poetry about Nico anytime and anywhere

Nico, only 10 feet away at supervising the archery range trying to act like he can't hear it even though everyone knows he hears Will. Nobody mentions how his smile gives him away.

Will, telling campers about his mom and the struggles he had with Apollo, telling them that it'll get better.

Nico, introducing new campers to Hestia, "the kindest Goddess" he's ever met.

Nico and Will having mandatory field trips to the cinema once every other month and making sure each and every camper has the hobbies they love just at their finger tips.

Will "your parent may not want you, but I'll do my best to prove that I do" Solace

Nico "I'm not mad you you set your cabin on fire, just disappointed" di Angelo right before bringing said camper to the infirmary and adjusting their schedule so they can train and get a better grip of their powers.

Just... I dunno. Older Solangelo where the world didn't end and they love their really weird family.

[lucid-loves]

Taste Like Venom ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 4

Pairing: Ghost x assassin!reader (fem!reader, no use of y/n, callsign “Hex”)

Word Count: 3.6k

CW: angst, violence, blood, strong language, scars, enemies to lovers trope, slow burn, fluff, clear attraction and sexual tension, smut later on, reader POV and ghost POV, minors dni, Soap lives in this AU

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: After Makarov gets away once again, Laswell decides to force a favor from you, the world’s greatest assassin and best-kept secret. You are now expected to help the 141 with taking down Makarov in addition to playing nice with them. It’s hard to play nice when you have always worked alone. It doesn’t help that one of the team members, Ghost, gets curious about you in each interaction. 

Chapter Synopsis: While you are alone in your own hotel room, the men talk about you over Italian cuisine. This includes speculation on Ghost’s feelings for you. Meanwhile, you are already gearing up for infiltration to tap the target building. Ghost decides that he wants a front-row seat to your show.

A/N: I am adding a taglist from now on for those who want to be a part of one. I made a post asking people to like it if they wanted to be part of it. If you would like to comment that you want to be in a taglist, you can do so on this post~

Taglist: @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @dory-98 @cum-tea-and-towels @completelymarveltrash

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~ Part 8 ~ Part 9 ~ Part 10

Good God, authentic pizza was absolutely amazing. The standard for pasta was incredible as well. It beat the standard cafeteria food back on base by a landslide. The 141 grimaced as they thought about someday having to return to the food back home. Even the food they’ve eaten out of your fridge has been refreshing to their taste buds. Soap was the most vocal about his dread of the mass-cook cafeteria food as he devoured another slice of heaven. “Christ, going back to bland spinach and soggy rice is going to be fuckin’ painful!”

“Remember when they tried to do a taco night. Fucking hell, the lettuce was dripping fat like a sponge.” Gaz added as he took a swig of whiskey. It wasn’t the Italian choice of liquor to pair with food, but it was the 141’s choice. Not Ghost’s though. He missed his Kentucky bourbon. 

“Last Thanksgiving was the most painful for me. Turkey was drier than my fuckin’ belt.” Soap chuckled, trying not to drip sauce onto the bed with how his whole body laughed with him. They were eating in one of the double queen hotel rooms, away from the public eye. When they were all together in a group, they often garnered attention. Such was the price for being such large, capable men.

“Anyone reckon that Hex is up yet? Food is gonna get cold.” Price inquired. They had saved some food for you. A plate full of different things since no one knew what you liked. Even Kate didn’t know when they called to ask her. Still, they tried their best anyway. And their best was getting cold on a ceramic plate.

Soap shook his head in refusal. “I’m not gonna knock on her door. The lass scares the shite out of me.”

Gaz laughed out loud. “Soap? Afraid? Never thought I’d live to see the day.” 

“Hey, you weren’t the one that nearly lost an ear! With fuckin’ car keys of all things.” He defended, taking a long swig of his own drink. He clearly wasn’t going to forgive you for that any time soon. It made him annoyed when he thought about the fact that you probably didn’t care. 

Price shrugged and poured himself another drink. “You were kinda asking for it, Johnny. I think I would’ve nearly killed you too if I’m being honest.”

“Well, Lt. made the joke first and he didn't nearly get stabbed.” He continued to argue, looking to Simon for an answer on how it was different when he cracked the joke. Ghost just stared with indifference, sitting in the corner with his mask halfway up. Even if he was with the people he trusted with his identity, he just felt more comfortable hiding his face while he ate.

The room went quiet for a moment as the men thought about it. Out of all of them, Ghost seemed to be the one that was able to get the closest to you. You still pushed him away by miles, but it was definitely closer than they were getting. Kyle took another slice of pizza, the fresh basil so vibrantly green that it looked like it was glowing. “How do you feel so comfortable pushing her boundaries, Lieutenant? One attempt at our lives is enough for us to back off. Yet, you seem to keep going back for more.”

The men waited for an answer, an idea crawling into each of their heads. Price had already picked up on it by now. He noticed as soon as Ghost lifted you in his arms. Gaz vocalizing his observation out loud just now triggered Soap to realize it too. A slow, knowing smirk crept along Soap’s lips. Simon scowled at the insinuation, reading all of their minds. “All of you can bury your ideas six feet under. I’m just trying to get her to trust us. The mission will go a lot smoother if she does. The sooner we do that, the sooner we can go home.”

All of them returned to enjoying their meals, unconvinced by Ghost’s protest. Was Simon attracted to you? Absolutely. Did he like you? Well, he certainly didn’t hate you. The biggest problem for him was that you were dangerous. Not just from an ability standpoint, but from an emotional standpoint. While he did want to get close to you, he still wanted to keep you just out of arm’s reach emotionally because he knew that you would burn him. Poison him with that venom of yours. He knew if he really did fall for you, he would never stop falling. 

For the sake of the mission and his own preservation, he convinced himself that you were only a temporary attraction. A beautiful woman with incredible power that will return to the unknown as soon as this is all over. His teammates knew better, though. In all their time of knowing Simon, he has never shown interest in women. Always too busy. Always too focused on work. Not even making time for hook-ups. When you came into the picture, you got his attention in a way they have never seen before. That meant a lot to them.

“Regardless, you have the honor of delivering our assassin her dinner, Lieutenant.” Price smirked, abusing his power as Captain to avoid feeding the feral woman next door. Ghost clenched his jaw, cursing out John in his mind as he got up.

The men continued their lighthearted conversation as Simon walked out, plate of food in hand. Taking a deep breath, he walked to your door and knocked. When there was no answer, he thought that perhaps you were still asleep. So, he took out his spare keycard to the room and welcomed himself in. 

The room was dim, large shadows casing over the beige walls. A few laptops were running on the desks, already hacked into the security cameras of the target building. You’ve actually been up for a while and have been busy getting things ready for your infiltration. It was alarming when you woke up in your hotel room instead of the car at first. However, it didn’t take you long to figure out that someone must’ve carried you. You were pretty sure who it was, but you didn’t dwell on it. There was work to be done and you had wasted too much time with sleep. 

Kate helped you get into their systems. From there, a layout of the building was mapped out along with the IDs of everyone working for Makarov. You have watched enough security footage to take note of the guard routes. All that needed to be done was planting the taps to allow you to listen in on everything. Nothing was going to be unheard. Not even the sound of a guard taking a bathroom break.

Simon watched you fasten a black belt tight around your hips that carried a collection of small throwing knives. You wore new pants, a long sleeve turtleneck with a hood, and boots. All tight. All black. His hands ached to reach out in order to trace your prominent curves. He wanted to feel the thin fabric of your shirt, the heat of your skin exuding through it. 

Instead of that, he placed the food down on top of your dresser, resisting the temptation. “Not going to eat first?”

You didn’t even glance his way, something he wanted to fix immediately. “No. It will weigh me down. I had room service bring up some fruit earlier. It will tie me over until I get back.”

“You’re leaving now?” He questioned, anger rising in his tone. You should have let them know that you were awake. That you were set up with the tech. That you wanted to proceed with the mission with a lookout. You shouldn’t have intended to do this alone.

But, you couldn’t help it. This is how you have always worked. Besides, to you, there was no reason to waste time with unnecessary things like knocking on their door to let them know you were ready. What were you? A fucking dog looking to be let out? “Now is better than later. Security usually lets their guard down after meals. It’s not too late in the night to expect intruders too. Now is the optimal time for me to place the taps.”

Simon scoffed at your unapologetic reasoning. “And you were just going to do this alone? Not even someone to watch the cameras out for you? What if you get compromised?”

Here we fucking go again. You grabbed the taps sitting on the desk, putting them in a small satchel securely tied to your belt. “Can you not criticize the way I do things every fucking conversation? I’m doing what I do best, Simon. I’ve never been compromised before. That’s a streak I intend to keep.”

He stepped towards you, his frame menacing as he towered over you. Hearing your name come from your lips was still something he wasn’t used to. Despite that, he wasn’t going to let you do this alone. This time, his tone was gentle yet resolute. “I’m letting the force know and I’m going to monitor the cameras.”

Looking up into his eyes, you could see that he wasn’t going to waver from his decision. There was no point fighting about this, you finally decided. Not even twelve hours ago was your last fight with him. A part of you was getting tired of it. Stepping back towards the hotel window to leave, you threw in the towel. It wasn’t going to stop you from getting the job done anyhow. “Do whatever you want. I don’t give a shit.”

“Hang on.” Ghost stopped you, his hand reaching out to grab your wrist. He pulled you towards him, using the advantage of his strength to have you close to him. Anticipating you to either reach for your knives or strike him with your other hand, he prepared to guard himself. However, you never used the same trick twice in a row. 

Like a forceful tango, you stepped your full weight forward to catch him off balance. You then pushed further as he was forced to step back lest you headbutt him, your hand now having the room to land on his chest with a quick, sharp force. In Simon’s fall, you swiped his sheathed knife from his own belt. Before he knew it, he was laying on his back on your bed, you straddling him, his eyes locking with yours that blazed with victory. 

Ghost’s strong hand was still wrapped around your wrist, but your free hand had his own knife pressed against his chest. Right over his heart that was thudding against his chest like it wanted to break out. The hot blood in his body was pumping into overdrive. Not in fear of death. No. In pure, passionate attraction. He swallowed hard, fighting back the urge to still pull you down and kiss you through his mask. Even if it would cause the knife to be plunged into his heart, the thought of being able to share a passionate kiss with you didn’t seem like a bad tradeoff.

Tendrils of your hair fell past your face, framing a beautiful jawline he wanted to trace with his lips. The image of you gasping in shock and pleasure as he squeezed your hips flashed in his mind for a second. It wouldn't have been hard to do. His other hand was still free but frozen as you pressed the tip of the blade into his chest. He also imagined the potential sweetness of your tongue, giving him a taste of dessert after dinner. He wanted to be the one to catch you by surprise and submit to his will. Only, you would love it and beg for more through feverish kisses and the grinding of your hips against his.

Christ, he was getting a boner. 

He wasn’t the only one who was feeling it, though. The sound of your own heartbeat was flooding your ears. You couldn’t seem to pull away from his blue eyes that so heatedly begged for you to come closer. The heat already felt from your body pressing against his didn’t feel like enough. Especially when you began to feel his growing hardness pressing against you. That just made your own sex tingle with need.

You got off of him quickly, putting distance between the two of you. What the fuck were you doing?! What the hell was wrong with you?! You haven't been with anyone for so long, but it was no excuse to get so swept up like this. Not with someone like Ghost. Not with someone like Simon Riley. You needed to get a fucking grip. Get your head on straight. Damn it, you were better than this!

Slowly, he sat up and cleared his throat, trying to pretend that what just happened wasn’t the sexiest thing he’s ever been through. His knife was tossed onto the bed next to him, your movements quick as you rushed to get the fuck out of there.

However, when Simon called your name, you froze. He sounded a little breathless, his voice making you shiver. “Hex, wait.”

Simon stood from the bed to grab something from the desk. Cautiously, he walked towards you, now learning his lesson that it wasn’t a great idea to just grab you so suddenly for multiple reasons. At a slow pace, he opened his large palm to show you a small earpiece. Still being careful with his speed and touch, he lightly brushed your hair behind your ear and inserted the earpiece for you. You flinched as his fingers brushed against your jaw, butterflies erupting within you.

“You’ll be able to hear me through this. I won’t say anything unless I really have to. You’ll be able to talk to me through it too. Whatever you want, whatever you need, just say it.” Ghost promised. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. You feared that using your voice would reveal just how flustered you were over what just transpired. Instead, you gave a simple nod and headed back to your window.

The nighttime breeze flooded in as soon as you opened the window, the chill seeping into your bones. Good. You needed to cool off. Without looking back, you slipped out into the night, leaving Simon behind to wonder if supposed enemies were supposed to be attracted to each other like this. 

~

The shadows concealed you, the moonlight accentuating them on every surface they could touch. Quietly and quickly, you moved from shadow to shadow until you stumbled upon the targeted building. From the outside, it looked like a rundown, abandoned office building up for sale. The place was hidden away, tucked behind the forefront of what Italy wanted to offer instead. Beauty. 

You watched armed men standing guard, looking out into the alleyways for enemies. Sticking to the shadows, you crept along the side of the building before spotting an open window just above you. Taking a deep breath to focus your mind, you sprung into action. With a few wall jumps, you were right in one of Makarov’s weapons depot. 

From the laptops back at the hotel, Ghost carefully watched the footage, almost holding his breath as he searched for you. His team gathered into the room once he told them you had left already. They had assumed that all the time he spent missing with you was just him helping set up the tech. He didn’t correct them on this. Like you had said before, never underestimate the power of assumptions.

Relief washed over his shoulders as soon as he saw your figure invade the building. Just as fast as you had entered, you hid, dropping a tap that was modeled to look like a dead fly onto the dirty tile. The place was dusty, the smell of stagnant air filling your lungs. The men here didn’t care about the cleanliness of the place. Fortunately for the 141, that meant that they wouldn't have to worry about anyone cleaning up the “dead flies.”

All of the men watched the footage as you swiftly made your way from room to room dropping flies. Soap double checked to make sure that the enemies’ own footage was still scrubbed as you worked. Regardless, you moved so carefully that any video of you just looked like a weird, black glitch. You were in your zone. This is what you did for years. This is what you have secretly missed doing.

Every move you made was calculated, following a strict regime based on the men’s own schedule. As you dropped more and more taps, Price began to check if they worked on his end. Sure enough, they could hear everything.

Gaz noticed that Ghost’s body was rigid, his eyes refusing to leave the screens. He was keeping track of you like he would lose sight of you if he blinked. Wanting to ease his worries, he began to prepare some tea using the hotel’s electric kettle. Kyle was always one to look out for his friends like this.

A hot cup of black tea was placed in front of Ghost, the smell already releasing the tension in his muscles. Gaz pat his stiff shoulder. “She’s gonna be alright, bruv.”

Ghost gave a silent nod, finally taking a moment to let his eyes wander off of the monitor to have a sip of tea. Now that he was more relaxed, he viewed your movements in a more admiring way. None of them could pull off how smoothly you moved. How easy you glided through like a gust of wind passing through. Even when you were close to an enemy, you kept your cool, refrained from killing, and moved on without detection. 

You were a god damn modern-day ninja. A fine one at that.

In less than an hour, you had swept through the whole building without detection. Every tap was planted. Not once did you hear Simon in your ear either. You were glad. You felt like if you heard his voice through the earpiece it would break your flow. But, a part of you did yearn to hear his deep voice so close to you. 

Getting out was the easiest part. Having no one seen you come in, you took the same route out. When you came back through the window, you were met with grateful smiles and words of praise that were foreign to your ears. Ghost wanted to be the first one to say something about your skills, but loud-mouth Sergeant Soap beat him to it. “Damn, Lass! I think you just set a record for 141!”

“That was quite impressive stuff there, Hex. It was like you were never there. Kate was right about you.” Price grinned as he thanked you in his own way.

Gaz hopped on the headphones to listen to the taps as soon as his Captain moved. “All of them are working just fine. I’ve only ever seen moves like that in movies and video games. Job well done!”

You were unsure of what to do with all of this attention, never having experienced it before. When you worked alone, there was no one to tell you that you did well when you got back. You didn’t know if all of this flattery made you feel good. In all honesty, the confusion you felt about it made you a little sick to your stomach.

Weaving past them all, you grabbed your cold plate of food that Simon brought to you earlier and left without a word through the door. After receiving some worried glances from his soldiers, Price provided some words of reassurance. “Don’t worry, men. Hex probably isn’t used to having people wait for her like this, let alone praise for good work. Give her time.”

As the team brought back some of the tech to monitor from their rooms, Ghost stepped out into the hallway to look for you. He initially thought that you would be in one of their rooms to use the microwave, but you were nowhere in sight. While he wanted to keep looking, a call by his Captain to help made him call it there for the night. 

And so he spent the rest of the night bunking with Soap, listening in on private conversations and thinking about you. Meanwhile, you spent your night eating a cold dinner alone on the hotel rooftop. Overlooking the city, your own mind occasionally wandered against your will towards Ghost and how it would feel if his heat saved you from the autumn winds chilling your skin.

[fruitgravies]

SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT !!!

i’m illustrating and writing a WEBCOMIC, titled CHAOS THEORY.

chaos theory is a (very) queer, coming-of-age drama that follows a young man growing up in the italian mob in modern day NYC. he’s extremely disillusioned with his day to day antics, even moreso when he finds the ghosts of his past and the skeletons in his closet catching up to him.

i will be announcing where it’ll be published in the near future, as well as posting the first full chapter for free. i’ve been working on this story for a LONG time now, and am deep in draft work. i’m very excited to share this with you guys!!!

[dalekowrites]

What would your favourite choice of the games interactive stories be? Would you have a favourite type? Romance, Fantasy etc. and did any of the inspire you with the ones you are currently writing? 😁

Oh boy! This is going to be a long answer, brace yourself lol

Let me start by saying that I have a degree in English literature (in fact, I'm going to do a PhD on it), so reading, in general, is one of the core activities of my life.

As for text adventures, even if not from Choice of Games Ltd., I'd like to mention a few inspirations: my passion first came from the original Choose Your Own Adventure series, and I still remember which numbers obsessed me as a child: Mountain Survival #28, The Dragons' Den #33, and more than any other, Space Patrol #22! (The latter may have also fueled my unhealthy obsession with Star Trek TOS, actually). For those unfamiliar with this fantastic book series, the genres of the three books I mentioned are, respectively, adventure, fantasy, and sci-fi. This gives you an idea of how varied my tastes are...

Later on, I discovered interactive fictions and text adventures. Dude, it was a dream come true. I started with Adventure ('76, never finished it, of course) and Zork ('79, never finished that either… of course. How damn hard were they?!). Then Mystery Mansion ('78), Castle Adventure ('82), and too many, many others. I'm a sucker for Sorcery! from inkle, and I deeply loved Magium (RIP Chris, you won't be forgotten). For my Italian-speaking friends, I also really enjoyed the Fra Tenebra e Abisso series (although its current status is unknown).

But back to CoG-related things. I've read a lot, and I'd probably be faster telling you what I didn't like! As you may have figured out by now, I don't have any particular genre preferences as long as a story is well-written, though horror-thriller stories usually grab my attention more easily.

Important note: I've read a lot of stories and, with a few exceptions, I liked most of them. To avoid writing a too-long list, here are the published stories that really impressed me:

A Crown of Sorcery and Steel,

A Midsummer Night's Choice,

Blood for Poppies,

Blood Moon,

Broadway: 1849,

Choice of the Cat,

Choice of the Vampire,

Donor,

Doomsday on Demand (1 and 2),

Gilded Rails,

Golden Rose: Book One,

Jazz Age,

Lies Under Ice,

Life of a Mercenary,

Life of a Space Force Captain,

MetaHuman Inc.,

Noblesse Oblige,

Paradox Factor,

The Evertree Saga (all four books),

Rent-a-Vice,

Revolution Diabolique,

Siege of Treboulain,

Tally Ho,

The Daily Blackmail,

The Dragon and the Djinn,

The Fernweh Saga: Book One,

The Fog Knows Your Name,

The Gray Painter,

The Grim and I,

The Ghost and the Golem,

The Lost Heir,

The Midnight Saga: The Monster,

The Parenting Simulator,

The Play's the Thing,

The Soul Stone War (1 and 2),

The War for the West,

Tudor Intrigue,

Vampire Regent,

Vampire: The Masquerade (all of them),

Way Walkers: University (1 and 2),

Welcome to Moreytown,

Werewolves: Haven Raising,

Zombie Exodus,

Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven.

And now, onto works in progress! There aren’t that many because I barely have time to follow my own (heh…), so here, in alphabetical order, are the ones I'm following with the most interest:

Adoriel's Tears (@adoriels-tears-if),

A Father's Love (@kal-down),

Crown of Ashes and Flames (@coeluvr),

Dawn Chorus (@dawnchorus-if)

Disenchanted (@disenchantedif),

Dragon's Edged (@dragonedged-if),

Elysium (@elysiumcircusif),

Fallen Lights (@fallenlightsif),

For King and Country (@forkingandcountry-if),

From The Ashes We Rise (@kal-down),

Hubris (@hubris-the-if-game),

Kingdoms and Empires (@kingdoms-and-empires),

Return to Misty Cove (@fluorescent-if),

The Abyssal Song (@ri-writes-if),

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - An affair of the heart (@doriana-gray-games),

The Lonely Shore (@thelonelyshore-if),

The King's Hound (@the-kingshound),

The Reaper Watches Me (@thereaperwatchesme),

The Bureau (@thebureau),

The Unseelie (@theunseelieif),

Van Helsing (@vanhelsing-if),

When Life Gives You Lemons (@when-life-gives-you-lemons-if).

Okay, that was… a lot. As for direct inspirations, I don't have any direct ones, but I can say I felt like writing a post-apocalyptic story after reading Doomsday on Demand! Other than that, I guess the collection of narrative, text adventures, and interactive fiction I've read have led me to where I am now.

Damn, it took me hours to write this answer. I hope it's satisfying at least! Thanks for asking ☺

[tagthescullion]

I feel like Nico being from Venice and the Argo II crew briefly stopping in Venice should have had more of a focus.

Like, all we get is Nico mentioning his mother used to tell him stories about the ghosts of Venice (do we get any details? No), that one time he and Bianca went on a weekend trip, and how they went to the US when World War II started. That's it.

First of all, how does Nico even remember Venice (where he apparently grew up, despite Hades saying he met Maria in Washington DC) and his mother? He and Bianca were dipped in the Lethe! A year earlier in TLO he didn't even remember her name! Suddenly he has childhood memories of her?

Him not remembering Venice and his mother could have been worked into the plot. Like him not remembering anything yet knowing he grew up here. Nico volunteering to go into the city with Frank and Hazel because he wants to see if anything jogs his memory. Wandering the streets looking at any old buildings wishing and hoping that anything seems familiar. Talking with Hazel about how he knows he's from here seventy years ago but doesn't remember a thing.

But since he does somehow remember, more attention should have been paid to that. Nico wandering the streets automatically heading toward his childhood home. Finding his way into the old di Angelo plot in a graveyard. Pointing out familiar landmarks, or, conversely, being confused because familiar landmarks no longer exist. Talking in Italian with passersby (don't even get me started on Nico knowing Italian in the later series, which seems to have been retconned from PJO. I think I might send in another ask sometime about that). Actually knowing what the katobleps are because, you know, he grew up here and would have seen them instead of just barely remembering what they are from Mythomagic. Talking with Hazel about his memories of Venice so long ago and how he feels about returning only a few years later for him but seventy years for everyone else. More talking with Hazel in general.

Instead, we get only a couple mentions. If there's anyone who deserves to have more of a focus on returning to his childhood homeland it's Nico, but he doesn't get it.

I'll start this by saying: rick's timeline is a wobbly bit of weak twine that's threading and creating other unexplainable plotholes

(adding a division bc it got long and not everybody has 'long post' filtered)

maria and hades meet in DC (implying nico and bianca are yanks)

maria and hades meet in venezia (implying nico and bianca are italian)

nico and bianca are born long before the war, that's why by the time they're 10 and 12 they left italy bc the war hadn't yet begun

nico and bianca were born in 30-32 so by 1938 nico was 6 when he went to croatia on holiday, implying they'd been 10-12 in 1942 the war had already started! italy was about to get divided north vs south

nico and bianca were born in 30-32 so by 1938 nico was 6 when he went to croatia, and they still went to the US before the war (<1940), so how in fuck's name does nico know of his venetian neighbour who came back PTSD-ed from the african campaign (1940-1943)????

nico and bianca have no memories bc they were bathed in the lethe, ergo no memories, ergo nico betrays percy to hades to learn about his mother

nico's memories, which shone for their absence for three years, start popping up like ants after rain in HoO?? just like that?? except the freaky cow-things, those ofc he can't remember despite them being a fucking pain in the arse and him having been annoyed/in danger for.. 10 years???

in the end, it's less about rick's subpar ability to keep up with his own characters, and his greedy need to keep writing books without a capable editor knowing he can't remember shite of any of his old stuff.. it's more about just picking whatever makes you happy

I like foreign nico and bianca, bc my country's culture's got a lot from italians, so I'll take HoO's (sort of) version. that and it fits better with my long and niche hcs of maria

nico and bianca being born in 30-32 (or 31 and 33 bc it fit better for my hcs) feels more legit to give nico that whole pre-war/beginning of the war background, but that's only bc wwii is interesting to me

I hc from PJO times that the underworld rivers don't affect children of hades too much, so nico and bianca did have some chunks of memory here and there, like islands of light in a dark ocean.. the speed with which nico gets back every single childhood thing? I don't vibe..

and as for nico being in his hometown.. god above it pains me to hell and back but rick is a white middle-upper class privileged yank boomer, I can't trust him to write his own compatriots, I simply cannot consider his foreigners as canon until people from those countries have given their thumbs-up

as a last comment in this eternal post: I truly, from the bottom of my judgy, bitchy heart, don't think rick even realised (originally) that italy wasn't on the US's side of WWII..

[la-petite-lapin]

Double the Love | Part Eleven*

Double the Love masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x female civilian!OC Word Count: 2.6k Series warnings (may change between chapters): 18+ Minors DNI, angst, mentions of death, mentions of violence, explicit sexual content, polyamory, M/M/F, unprotected PinV, fingering, praise, size difference, biting, marking, Tali being a tease, Johnny's dirty talk

Johnny passes his fitness test

"So, how's the apartment hunting going?" Winnie asks, her upper body in the frame of our FaceTime call. She looks even tanner than usual, practically glowing as she beams at me.

She hasn't got long left to go on her work trip now and - after a particularly promising flat viewing last week - me and the boys might not be living in our apartment for much longer. We've finally found a place that works for all of us - the perfect mix of homey and industrial, with two bathrooms, a huge master bedroom with a walk-in closet, and a decent-sized spare room. And - as an added bonus - it's only a twenty-minute walk from here.

I gush to her about the place; about the giant, warehouse-style windows in the open-plan living room, and my interior design ideas. She listens eagerly, her smile only growing brighter and brighter until I stop and ask, "What?"

There's a pause as she shifts, getting comfortable on her hotel bed in Paris. Braids falling over one shoulder, her dark, wise eyes find mine through the screen, twinkling with an amused light. "You seem genuinely happy, Tali. It suits you." She tilts her head slightly, adding, "When I get home, we all need to go out for dinner and drinks. I get the feeling I should start getting used to these guys being around."

I laugh at that. "I think you should too. They aren't going anywhere any time soon."

We talk a bit more - exchanging I miss you's and stories about some of the other things that we've been up to in the past week - before I hear the sound of the front door opening and closing with a soft thud. The "honey, I'm home!" that follows is enough to tell me that Johnny is back in the building.

"I'll call you in the morning, yeah?" I say, heat flooding the tips of my ears as I flash Winnie a bashful smile.

She grins back. "Sure thing. Goodnight, babe."

The call is barely over before Johnny comes crashing into the bedroom, a huge smile on his face. "Simon called. He's gonnae pick up take-out from that little Italian place you like on his way home."

I switch my phone screen off and let it fall on top of the sheets beside me. Twisting so that I'm laying on my back, propped up on my elbows as my legs dangle off the edge of the bed, I catch onto what he hasn't mentioned.

Simon had to go into one of the offices today for a meeting with John, Gaz, and their colleague Kate, something that he couldn't avoid no matter how much he wanted to. It's looking more and more likely that they're going to have to go on another mission soon. And Johnny - well, Johnny had a doctor's appointment to assess his recovery.

To assess whether or not he was deemed fit enough to go along with them.

I him, feigning nonchalance for a second before slowly asking, "How did your appointment go?"

Just like that, the care-free smile on Johnny's face fades. He clears his throat, shifting his weight between his feet like a worried child. There's no hint of his injured ribs in his stance now - not like there was when he first moved in. He doesn't favour one side anymore; doesn't have any trouble standing up, or laying down, or reaching for things.

He's better. He's healed.

And it's good news.

Or at least it should be.

"I, er- well, Doc reckons 'm good to go back to active duty," he says with a grimace. One hand goes to the back of his neck, tugging at the longer strands of his mohawk. He's self-soothing, and there's nothing I want more than to help him, but I let him finish. "Was gonnae tell you and Si tonight over dinner. Didn't wanna ruin a good day."

An invisible hand reaches through my ribs, fingers curling around my heart and squeezing like a vice. Panic, fear, worry; the emotions whirl through me like a storm gale, threatening to sweep me away with their intensity.

Instead of letting myself feel it, I swallow it down.

Pursing my lips, I meet Johnny's baby blue eyes. "It's okay. It'll all be okay."

He sits down beside me with a heavy thump, gaze trained on the wall in front of us. Refusing to hold my gaze, he sighs deeply. "Tali, nothin' about this is okay. This wasn't meant t' happen until we got the new place sorted out. Now... 'ah could be called away at a moment's notice. Wouldn't have a say in the matter. Ye would be along for God knows how long, waitin' for us without word. Worried sick.

"Ye don't know what it's like. I've been though this with Si before - it's not fun, lassie. It's gonnae hurt."

I sit upright, shuffling closer to the edge of the bed until I'm sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with him. Slowly, I wrap an arm around his side, leaning into him.

His body is tense to the touch, but his soft t-shirt smells like his aftershave - clean and familiar.

I press a gentle kiss to his shoulder blade, my words muffled against the fabric and muscle as I speak. "We'll get through this, Johnny. It'll be okay."

Some of the tension leaves his muscles, the frame of him sagging against me. With a shaky exhale, I almost miss the whispered, "'ah don't wanna leave ye, Tali," that follows.

My heart breaks for him.

The only thing that I can think to say is, "I know."

Neither of us speak for a while after that. I just hold him while he stares off into space, gaze trained simultaneously on the wall and some far-away place neither of us can see. And it's all I can do not to burst into tears myself.

Before long, Johnny pulls me into his lap, burying his face into my hair and nuzzling his nose against the side of my neck. It takes me a second to register the soft, lazy kisses that he's pressing there - trailing up my jaw and behind my ear.

"Johnny," I mumble, tilting my head to give him access to the delicate skin there.

He grunts in acknowledgment.

I repeat his name, firmer this time. It takes him a moment, but he draws back enough for me to look at his face. With one hand on his broad chest, I say, "Are you sure you want to do this right now?"

Johnny grins lazily, the picture of care-free ease despite the tense line of his jaw. "Lassie, there's nothin' else ah'd rather be doing right now."

I lift a hand to cradle his cheek, relishing the warmth of him as he melts into my touch. The trust and affection lurking in his ocean-blue gaze is enough to choke me up; to bring a rush of answering emotion inside of me. Pressing my forehead to his, I stare into his eyes, palm trailing down the side of his throat to rest against his broad shoulder.

"Johnny... I know it's soon but-"

He cuts me off by tangling a hand in my hair, pulling my lips down to meet his. I sink my teeth into the bottom one, pulling a deep, throaty chuckle from him.

"Ay, vicious little thing!" Johnny's hand comes down against my arse in a playful smack, the flat of his hand immediately soothing the sting with gentle caresses of his calloused palm. "Tha's my lassie."

I bite back a whine, determined not to give him the satisfaction.

Instead, I shift myself until I'm straddling Johnny's lap, my thighs bracketing his. His eyes darken as I get comfortable, purposefully rubbing against him as much as possible. I can feel the considerable length of him straining against the fabric of his gym shorts, the short skirt of my sundress doing little to shield me from the fact.

"Johnny?" I gasp, wide-eyed with feigned innocence.

Through gritted teeth, he growls, "Aye."

Leaning close, I press an open-mouthed kiss to his temple. "I'm not wearing any underwear."

If I wasn't turned on before, the look of pure, raw heat on his face takes me the rest of the way. With a sound verging on animalistic, Johnny flips us so that I'm on my back, his weight resting on the mattress between my spread thighs as he towers over me, caging me under him. It's far from menacing though; sending a thrill of anticipation through me.

Those blue eyes of his glitter with the thrill of the chase, gaze never leaving mine as one hand shifts to paw at the hem of my dress. With a slight dip of my head, his eyes drift south, fingers tugging the skirt up until its bunched up around my waist. His fingers trail back down the bare skin, goosebumps rising in their wake.

Pressing a trail of open-mouthed kisses to my neck, he licks over the hollow at the base of my throat. His mouth distracts me while his index finger circles my clit. He does it once, then twice, before finally skimming down to where I really need them. A rumbling chuckle leaves his throat when he finds just how wet I am for him.

He eases his fingers out of me with a mumbled praise.

"Don't be mean," I whine, arching my hips up towards him. "Just make me feel good."

Johnny scoffs something that sounds remarkably like "pillow princess" before pulling away. My gaze follows him as he frantically tugs down his shorts and boxers, his thick cock springing up - ready and waiting.

I don't laugh at the tattoo this time, instead running my thumb over it.

Practically purring, Johnny's hand wraps around my wrist, guiding his hand down to touch him. My fingers close around his length, relishing in the hiss that leaves his lips. His eyes find mine once again as he whimpers, "See, Tali. All of this is for you. Feel how fuckin' hard you make me."

He thrusts into my hand to punctuate his point.

A breathy moan wrestles free from my throat. "Johnny- Johnny, I need you."

The strong column of his throat works as he swallows, seemingly nodding to himself before easing himself back down on top of me. Lining up, he places his free hand beside my head, balancing his weight as he notches himself at my entrance.

I savour the slow, delicious drag as he pushes into me, muttering soft praises under his breath as his face drops down beside mine. His hair tickles my cheek as he flexes his hips, slowly easing out before pushing himself in to the base. The movement punches the air out of my lungs in a sharp gasp.

"'ah loved watching Si eat you out," Johnny growls, low and guttural as he eases out again before slamming home. "Loved watching you watch us." He twists his hips without warning, hitting a spot deep inside of me that sends me reeling - seeing stars as my eyes roll. "But nothin' compares to being right here."

I cling to him like he's a lifeline, clawing at the tanned skin of his broad back and lifting my legs to wrap them around his waist. I pull him close, gathering him to me as he picks up the pace like it's a challenge, burying my face into the crook of his neck. As I barrel towards my release, I bury my nose in his skin - inhaling the scent of his aftershave mixed with a hint of sweat - and bite down. Hard.

As I come, vaguely aware of the coppery taste now coating my tongue, Johnny roars. His hips stutter, a flood of warmth filling me as he finds his own high.

Basking in the afterglow, he collapses on top of me, neither of us willing or able to move for a few long moments.

"That was... wow," Johnny says eventually, breathless and sweating.

"Intense?" I supply, still clinging to him like a koala bear. Banding his arms around me, he rolls us so that he's on his back, my weight settled on top of him. He still hasn't pulled out yet - letting me enjoy the moment just a little while longer.

I have to remind myself that Simon will be home any minute now with dinner; stopping myself from getting amped up for round two.

Nuzzling into his warmth, I run my fingertips over the top of his shoulder, provoking the shiver that I was looking for with ease. But the smile on my face cracks as soon as my fingertips come away smudged with blood.

I jerk upright, Johnny's softening cock slipping out with a wince from him. The post-orgasm haze leaves me just as abruptly as I lean over him, inspecting the damage. Sure enough, there are two rows of shallow teeth indents in the tanned skin of his shoulder, deep enough to draw a steady trickle of blood.

I pull back, pouting.

"Ay, none of that!" Johnny declares, eyes glittering once again. "Did something for me, tha' did." Heat floods my cheeks as a roguish grin forms on his full lips. "Think we might need to tell Si about that little trick."

My eyes trail down, focusing on the tattoo along his V-line as I straddle his tapered hips. He returns the favour, stroking a bare sliver of skin along my own hip. With a contemplative hum, he suggests, "Ye should get a tattoo there. Ours."

It takes all my strength not to grind down against the bare length of him here and now. The primal urge to take and claim ghosts over me; the urge to have their handwriting marked permanently on such an intimate part of my body.

"Now that's an idea." I lean down to press a kiss on his lips. "In your handwriting?"

A devilish glint sparks up in his eyes, but he bites back on it, tapping me once on the thigh. "We should get cleaned up before Si gets home. Come on, little menace: shower."

An hour later, the three of us are lounging in the living room, eating Italian out of the cardboard box-trays that it was packed in. The results of Johnny's fitness test and doctor's exam were the first thing Simon asked about upon his return - his reaction something between disappointment and bitter acceptance - followed shortly by quizzing Johnny about the fresh bite mark on his shoulder. He'd only had to glance at me - guilty, dishevelled, and shifting my thighs in an attempt to ease the hollow ache between my legs - before his eyes darkened with lustful understanding.

I let myself fade into the background, listening to the low hum of the TV and the boys chatting about work gossip - mentioning people I've never met and names I've never heard before.

Until something snags my attention.

"Kate said we have to go, Si," Johnny says sullenly. "'s not like it's waterboarding or anything. It's a fuckin' military ball for Christ's sake!"

Simon grumbles something under his breath, a string of curses punctuated by the odd coherent word. It ends in, "being paraded about like a fuckin' show pony."

"Surely it's not that bad," I say incredulously. A catered party with booze, decent food, and dancing - it sounds quite fun.

Johnny beams. "See! Tali gets it. We should all go. Price and Gaz are going - we could make a night out of it."

Something sours in Simon's expression. "Hm, and how would that work out exactly? Who gets to go with Tali?"

I can't help but frown. He's right; I can only formally attend with one of them, especially around their colleagues and higher-ups. How else would we explain what's going on between the three of us? Hell, Johnny and Si aren't even out at work.

"We'll think of something," Johnny says, ever the optimist. "Besides, 's not for a few weeks yet. Think that new op 'll happen first."

Simon grunts, finishing off the last few bites of his pasta. "Speaking of, I'm gonna reach out to that guy about the new flat tomorrow. See if we can close on it as soon as possible." Hazel eyes meet mine. "Provided that's still what you want, love?"

I flash him a sweet grin. "Of course it is."

a/n: it took time, but we did it! hope you liked part 11. what do you want next, part 12 of this, part 2 of Unlikely Friendships or... something new? :) - lapetitelapin <3

[baronessblixen]

I wish you’d write a fic where mulder and scully are at a restaurant in Rome ! (Am I too late ?)

You were not too late, anon, it just took me a while to finish this! I loved it and I immediately knew it had to be a fluffy fic(let).

Tagging @today-in-fic

There are, he presumes, easier ways to catch Scully in a sundress than whisking her away to Italy on a random Tuesday. Not that he’s complaining; if he could, he’d sit here for hours – no, days – just watching her.

It’s not just the sundress; it’s the way the sun kisses her skin, reminding him of when his lips did the same. He knows how soft her skin is, how her freckles taste against his lips. The smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth is unavoidable. Not that Scully is paying attention to him. While she’s taking it all in, he’s mesmerized only by her. Rome might be beautiful, but it has nothing on Dana Scully. In a sundress, no less.

“Mulder,” she says, her eyes drifting over to him. “Are we really here for a case?”

Ah yes, that.

“We are,” he replies, pretending to look for the waiter. Now would be a good time for their food to arrive. Food that Scully ordered for them both in impeccable Italian. At least Mulder presumes she did. He sat there grinning like the love-sick fool he is when she started speaking to the waiter.

“You told me to bring comfortable clothing,” Scully says, her eyes scrutinizing him. “Is this restaurant being haunted by ghosts?” Oh, he loves this woman. He smiles, matching the amused glint he catches in her eyes.

“No,” he says, leaning forward, as if what he’s about to say was a secret, ”we’re here for the Gata Carogna.” Scully’s eyes widen in curiosity. When he pitched it to Skinner, their boss merely nodded, and Mulder is certain he just wanted them both out of his non-existent hair for a week.

Scully remains quiet, seems to be waiting for him to continue, so he does.

“It’s a cat-like creature,” he says, leaning closer and closer still. The city around them is bustling, but he only has eyes for her. He’s close enough that it would take less than a whisper to close the distance between them. “It has an appetite for children’s souls.” He blinks at her and waits for her to react.

“That’s a fun story,” Scully says in her no-nonsense voice. “There’s just one problem with it.”

“Which is?” Scully takes a sip from her water and Mulder swallows, feeling thirsty himself. Moments slip by as he watches her. Then she leans in, and he’s momentarily distracted by how wet her lips look.

“The Gata Carogna, Mulder, has its haunting grounds in Lombardy, not Rome.” He’s too stunned to reply to her, frozen in his place where their noses are still almost touching. What might people passing by think, seeing them? Would they think they’re a couple on a romantic getaway?

“Does that mean Skinner didn’t buy the story either?” He grins sheepishly at her. “Skinner sanctioned this?” Mulder nods. “This isn’t- oh my God, Mulder, I thought this was- I thought you were only using this as a ruse!”

“A ruse? For what?” he asks innocently. They’re on the same page after all. He can no longer hold his laugh in when he sees color shoot into her cheeks.

“It is,” he admits, finally. “I mean I did go to Skinner and he did sanction it. We’re here on, well, let’s call it an official vacation.”

“We’re not here to chase after ghosts, or soul-stealing cats?” He shakes his head no and smiles at her, knowing the sun isn’t to blame for the warmth running through this whole body. “We’re here to…” she trails off, her eyes searching his.

For this, he thinks. To take a breath. To leave behind the world, the monsters, and their pasts; everything that keeps chasing them.

“For whatever you want,” he says instead. He knows exactly what he wants. Knows that he wants to hold her hand and make happy memories for a change. Knows that he wants to kiss her when the sun sets. And he knows he wants to go to bed with her, snuggle up, and ward off any nightmare that might have followed them here.

Now it’s up to her.

“Well, I’m sure we’ll think of something.” And then, just before the waiter arrives with their food, she leans over the table and presses a soft kiss to his mouth.

For once, he’s done everything just right.