#ok wait just imagine Simon in public—

[captainfern]

Reader and ghost fake dating for a mission with a twist.It’s a masquerade ball so Ghost wears a fancy little mask instead of his usual skull. Reader gets worked up seeing him in a tux with his hair and part of his face out so they ditch their mics and abandon the mission to go fuck in a bathroom. Just a thought… 🤭🤭

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Master of Puppets

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader

[“Master of Puppets” by Metallica]

[18+]

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• summary - you and ghost getting all dressed up for a ball ends in you and ghost fucking in the bathroom lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 3.6k • warnings - fem!reader, unprotected piv, semi-public sex, handjobs idk, ghost is a little possessive of his sergeant, strong language

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ok you requested this while my requests were closed and usually i just delete them BUT you're lucky i'm horny for this idea

i'm imagining him in a peaky blinders style three-piece suit and i'm going insane why do i do this to myself

You weren't a stranger to the "fake dating" type of mission. You had done it with Gaz just a few months prior to infiltrate enemy operations at a charity event in Dubai.

So, when that exact type of mission came around again, you were prepared for what it would take.

"Playing boyfriend-girlfriend again, Garrick?" You quipped at Gaz a few minutes before Price's usual briefing.

He smiled, but shook his head. "Not me, sarge."

You made a face of confusion, before Gaz threw his thumb over his shoulder, pointing directly at Ghost. Ghost raised his head from the files he had been reading.

"Seriously?" You gaped, surprised.

Ghost shook his head slowly, muttering out a sarcastic comment, "Dial down the excitement, sergeant."

Now, you stood in the bathroom of your hotel room, smoothing your hands down the fabric of your dress, admiring yourself. It was an absolutely stunning dress that clung to you in all the right ways. Designer label, too, leaving you wondering how the hell Price got his hands on it. Probably Laswell.

There was a light knock on your door before it opened, and you walked into the bedroom so you could slip your heels on. Soap and Price entered, dressed impeccably in suits. You stood at the foot of the bed as they walked in, and you admired them with a big smile.

"You two look very handsome." You said.

"Thank you," Price said, adjusting his tie. "You look absolutely radiant, sarge."

You laughed, sitting on the edge of the bed so you could fasten your heels to your feet, as well as strap your handgun to the strap around your upper thigh.

Soap gaped at you, eyes raking down the entirety of your body while you exposed a leg, tightening the holster around it.

"You're smokin', lass," he said, shock edging his words. "Ghost won't be able to focus."

You rolled your eyes, sliding your gun into place before standing up, settling your dress over top of it, trying your best to make the imprint not obvious.

The three of you left the hotel ten minutes later. A black SUV with tinted windows waited outside, and Soap opened the door for you. Price grabbed hold of your arm before you slid inside, leaning close to your ear.

"Remember, you and Ghost are there to get intel. You don't engage with any of the targets, understood? Soap and I will be nearby if you run into any trouble."

"Understood." You nodded, before clambering into the black SUV. Soap mouthed good luck to you before he turned away, just as Ghost walked slowly down the steps, Gaz a few metres behind.

Your eyes widened. He looked fucking good.

A black three piece suit, complete with the waistcoat and everything. He wasn't wearing gloves, exposing large, strong hands with prominent veins and silver rings around his fingers. What shocked you the most, however, was the silver mask covering most of the top half of his face. It shined in the light of the hotel entrance. As he neared the car, you could see his lips, his jawline, his chin, scars littering the flesh.

You pressed your thighs together.

Price said something to Ghost, and then Soap did as well. Finally, Ghost looked into the car where you waited patiently, and you watched as his lips parted in what could be best described as a small gasp.

"Sergeant..." He trailed off, taking in your dress, your face, your body, you.

"Lieutenant," you nodded at him. "You look nice. Very dapper."

He grunted deeply, sliding into the seat next to you. His body radiated heat that you could feel. He smelt good, too. You bit your lip as his strong thigh pressed against yours.

With a final few good lucks from the boys, the car was pulling away from the hotel and heading for the venue. You and Ghost didn't exchange much conversation, but as you looked out the window, you felt the heat of his gaze on you. You turned your head, catching his bright eyes following the curves of your dress.

You ignored the flip in your stomach at the weight of desire in his eyes. "Like what you see?" You joked, and his eyes snapped up to look at you.

He cleared his throat, looking anywhere but you, before he fished something out of his jacket pocket. He held it out to you, still not quite meeting your eyes. It was a silver mask, much like his, but a bit smaller, with finer details carved around the edges. It was really pretty.

"It's a masquerade ball, so I figured you'd need this." Ghost grumbled, retracting his hands straight away as you took the mask from him.

"Matching?" You smiled.

"I figured... I mean— it was Soap's idea, so if you don't want... you don't, you know—"

"I love it, sir, I do," you said softly, and he sighed deeply through his nose. You then angled your body away from him, pressing the mask to your face with the ribbons dangling either side. "Do you mind tying it for me?"

Ghost said nothing, but took hold of the two ribbons and brought them to the back of your head. He carefully tied a bow, keeping your mask secure against your face. You could feel the soft rhythm of his breathing against your back, and the warmth of his bare hands near the base of your neck.

"Done?" You asked, looking at yourself in the windows reflection.

Ghost swallowed thickly, ignoring something stirring deep within the pit of his stomach. "Yeah."

•º•

You felt somewhat confident walking into the event with Ghost on your arm. All eyes turned towards the handsomely dressed man, clearly well-built beneath the suit and obviously attractive beneath the silver mask. He captured this attention like a natural, which you couldn't come to grips with. He was so calm, collected. You felt as though you were going to burst into tears at any moment.

But you didn't. You wouldn't. Not with the way Ghost circled an arm around your lower back, a hand pressed hot above your arse. Not with the way he kept you pressed to your side, his towering frame shielding you from at least one line of prying eyes.

But, you felt eyes on you too. Eyes on the pretty girl next to the man with the silver mask. They admired you from close and afar, watching the way your dress dipped around your body, and the way your silver mask glittered under the light of the crystal chandeliers.

"Alright, sarge?" Ghost whispered, thumb rubbing circles on your lower back.

"Yep," you squeaked out, the movement of his hand making your body grow hot. "You good?"

"Mhm." He hummed, already surveying the room.

—Okay, you two. Try and get as much information out of these rich-listers as you can—, Price's voice filtered in through your earpiece. —I would say don't draw attention to yourselves, but it seems it's a bit late for that. You're probably the youngest, most attractive pair in that room tonight—.

"Aw, cap, you flatter us." You joked, snagging two flutes of champagne from the tray of a passing waitress.

—Just don't get distracted—. Price grumbled, before his voice was gone from your ear.

You held a glass of champagne out for Ghost, who just stared at it. You were already raising yours to your lips, drinking the bubbling liquid in small sips. Finally, he took it from you, but didn't drink.

"Shouldn't be drinking on the job." He said gruffly as you finished your drink, placing the empty glass on a nearby table.

"Says who?" You question, taking the second flute from him since he obviously wasn't going to drink it.

"Says me."

"Pfft, you're not the boss of me." You quipped, downing the second glass of champagne. It was mostly to steel your nerves— which were on fire with anxiety.

He rolled his eyes. "I am the boss of you."

"Oh yeah."

•º•

An hour or so went by and you found yourself sat at the bar. It was a pretty place, decked out in gold and glittering crystal lights. You'd spent the past hour gathering as much information about your rich-list targets as you could, with said information being filtered back through your ear-piece, directly back to Gaz in the hotel room.

Ghost had vanished to investigate further, leaving you alone at the bar, a small glass of water in your hand. You'd thrown back a few flutes of champagne and you realised that water was probably your best bet for the rest of the night.

"What's a pretty lady like you sitting here without company?" Came a voice behind you, and you rolled your eyes.

What a cringe line. Embarrassing.

You plastered a polite smile across your face as a man took the barstool beside you, a simple black mask over his features.

"My company's just gone outside for a smoke." You lied naturally, smile not breaking.

"And he's left you all alone?"

"Mhm, but I'm perfectly fine being by myself," you said. "But it was nice to meet you." You finished with the hopes that he'd take the fucking hint and leave.

He didn't take the hint.

"Well, at least let me by you a drink." He offered.

You shook your head. "I'm fine, thank you."

He took that surprisingly well, but his stare was lingering and uncomfortable as it travelled down the length of your body. You felt goosebumps ripple across your exposed flesh, a grimace threatening to overtake your practised smile.

"You look stunning, by the way," he said. "Absolutely beautiful. Are you sure I can't buy you a drink?"

You sighed. "The drinks are free and, no thank you."

"Are you sure—?"

You felt Ghost's presence before he even spoke.

You felt the looming warmth press to your back, the tower of mass that overshadowed your frame. You couldn't help but lean back a bit, his chest and upper abdomen pressing firmly along your spine. Then, a built arm draped over your shoulders, wrapping just above your tits and pulling you closer against him.

"Can I help you?" Ghost asked, voice even, accent thick.

The man had to crane his head to look up at Ghost. "Just keeping the pretty lady company."

Ghost grunted. "I suggest you move on. Keep someone else company, why don't you."

The man swallowed nervously. "I didn't—"

"Go." Ghost ordered simply, and the man was scurrying away before you could even blink.

You looked up at Ghost, top of your head leaning against his chest. "Thanks." You muttered, waiting for him to let go of you.

He didn't. His hand and arm held you closer, his eyes dragging down your face and your body. His other hand came to rest on your jaw, his thumb trailing along the bone. Then it swiped upwards, along your cheek before pressing to your lips, smearing the shimmering gloss.

You were frozen.

"Ghost—?"

"You're the prettiest woman in this fucking room, you know that?" He muttered lowly, thumb skirting along the seam of your lips.

You didn't answer, just stared up at him. His rings were cold against the side of your face.

The moment was thick with tension, and heat pooled in your belly. You felt his chest rise and fall, a bit quicker than it did in the car ride to the event. His pupils were blown, too, between the slots in the mask, and he ran the point of his tongue across his bottom lip.

—Aww, how romantic—, Soap's voice burst in your ear, and both you and Ghost jolted.

"Fucking hell, Johnny," Ghost cursed, grip on your face tighter. "I'm turning this fucking mic off. I'm sick of hearing your voice."

Soap laughed. —You wouldn't dare—

Ghost switched his ear-piece off, before closing his fingers around yours too. He switched it off, and Soap's voice died in your ear.

You gasped. "Ghost—"

He hauled you off of the seat while you were mid-sentence, planting you on your feet with your chest now pressed to his.

"Follow me." He growled.

You could feel his cock hardening in his suit trousers.

•º•

Ghost locked the door of the bathroom behind you, before he was slamming you against it, hiking your legs around his waist. His mouth smashed to yours, and you gasped, barely having enough time to respond before his tongue was surging inwards.

The kiss choked you, full of emotion. Ghost's large frame towering over you, caging you to the door. One of his hands gripped your thigh, keeping your body pinned between his and the door. His other hand gripped the underside of your jaw, angling your face so he could press deeper into the kiss.

The material of the silver masks you were both wearing bumped together with each desperate movement of your mouths. You were able to respond now; winding your arms around his shoulders, delving one hand into his hair, pulling his face closer to yours. Ghost groaned into the kiss as you tugged at the roots of his hair, and he pulled away to look down at you.

"Such a tease," he muttered, before dragging his lips across your jaw and down your neck. "Wearing this pretty dress, too."

His lips found the strap on your shoulder, teeth skimming the material before he was kissing along your collarbone. You angled your face upwards so he could suck along the soft expanse of your throat. He still gripped your jaw firmly as he did so, and he moved your head himself when he wanted to nip at the sensitive skin below your ear.

"Fucking stunning," he said, breathless, before he was stepping back to get a better look at you. You squirmed under his gaze, drawing your thighs together as your core gained a heartbeat. You whined, and he chuckled lowly, dropping your leg off of his waist. "So pretty."

"Simon..." You pleaded, his real name slipping past your lips before you could stop yourself. Your body was simmering hot with arousal, your core aching just by the way Ghost was looking at you.

Not to mention how fucking good he looked in that suit.

Clearly, you were having much the same effect on him.

He huffed deeply, unbuttoning his trousers, his hard cock imprinted through the material. You swallowed as you watched his trousers drop slightly as he pulled his cock out of his boxers, eyes raking up and down your body. And you weren't even showing anything yet.

"Acting like a Victorian man," you couldn't help but joke. "Seeing a sliver of shoulder and a bit of ankle's got you worked up?"

You laughed lightly, seeing Ghost roll his eyes behind the mask. He grunted, the closest thing to a verbal reply, as he gripped his cock and moved closer to you. Your breath hitched as he closed the gap, kissing you hard.

His cock pressed to your abdomen, warm and hard through the expensive material of your dress. You whined softly against Ghost's tongue, moving a hand to enclose around his length also.

Ghost choked on a low moan, pulling out of the kiss to rest his forehead against yours. The both of you staying like that, eyes directed down between your bodies as you gripped his cock, hand right beside his own.

You used the beads of pre-cum pearling at his slit to ease your movements, fisting a hand up and down, making Ghost grumble deep in his chest. Foreheads still pressed together, you both watched as you jerked him off. His hand remained tight at the base, unmoving despite your best efforts to encourage him.

The bathroom was filled with his soft noises; noises that ignited the fire in your belly further, your core throbbing, soaking your underwear. You hummed softly at him, some kind of a whine, as you pumped him faster, feeling him twitch in your hand.

He groaned and grunted softly, his breaths deep and laboured. His cock twitched with each of your movements, drops of pre rolling in a steady pattern along a vein. You collected them in the grooves of your palm, your movements sliding, sending soft, wet clicking sounds into the bathroom as well.

It felt like Ghost was entranced with the way he was looking at your hand moving along his cock. So when he felt his orgasm creeping up the back of his spine, he internally cursed.

He grabbed your wrist and pried your hand from his cock with a hiss, screwing his eyes closed as the feeling of release seeping away. He'd just edged himself, and he didn't even fucking mean too.

"Fuck, gotta be inside you," he muttered, kissing your forehead as he changed positions. "Not gonna last like this."

He hoisted you up, wrapping your legs around him. You helped him wriggle the material of your dress around your waist, and he hummed in satisfaction. You braced one hand around his broad shoulders, the other on the door at your side for stability.

"Fucking hell..." Ghost ran a finger up your slit over your underwear. The material was damp with your arousal, and the feeling of his finger made you squirm in his hold.

"Simon, please—"

"Absolutely soaked..." He wasn't really listening to you. He was too busy playing with the material of your underwear, rubbing up your folds and feeling the way your arousal soaked through.

You quickly moved your hand from the door and fisted a handful of his hair, urging his head to look up. He grunted, gritting his teeth as he finally looked you dead in the eye while you tugged at his hair.

"Simon." You said, commanding as much of his attention as you could.

He licked his lips. "Hm?"

"Fuck me."

"Christ," he whispered, the hand stroking you through your underwear hooking beneath the material. He simply pulled it to the side, exposing your wet cunt. His pupils dilated. "Fucking Christ."

"Don't bring Christ into this." You joked again, and Ghost grunted deeply in response, giving you no warning before he was easing his cock into you.

You spluttered around a moan as his cock filled you abruptly, your hands moving to grip Ghost's shoulders tightly. Your head fell forward, resting against his chest, and you moaned loudly.

His cock nudged that spot inside you that had your cunt fluttering around him, making him groan. He grit his teeth to restrict most of the noises, but he couldn't help himself. Not with the way your cunt was squeezing his cock, all wet and warm and tight.

"Come on, sergeant, come on," Ghost whispered, moving his hips back and slamming into you again. He began to build pace and rhythm with each one of his thrusts. "Let me hear those pretty noises. Come on."

You moaned again, high and breathy as the head of his cock punched the air out of your fucking lungs. He fucked you against the door, the wet sounds of your arousal spurring his movements further.

"Simon, gotta be quiet. Someone m-might hear— ah, fuck—" You bit down on your bottom lip to stifle the moans being torn from your throat by the way Ghost was fucking you.

"Let them hear," he whispered in your ear. "Let them hear how good I make you feel, eh? Let them hear how good you are at taking my cock."

Your head fell backwards against the wooden door, eyes rolling as a string of whimpers were pulled from your lips. Ghost rutted into you, grunting softly as he did, listening to the sounds from your mouth and your cunt. He held your hips, keeping you pinned to the door and unable to move so he could slam deeper and deeper inside you.

You arousal was pooling around his cock with each thrust, now dripping down the insides of your thighs. You could faintly feel your underwear in the crease of your thigh, pushed haphazardly out of the way to make room for Ghost. But you didn't care— you were too focused on the huge fucking cock that was inside you right now.

You couldn't help the whines and soft moans that left your mouth. Your body was burning up, stomach drawing tight as your impending orgasm grew more intense with each rut of Ghost's cock.

"Simon..." You moaned, and Ghost had to compose himself so he didn't come right then and there. You sounded so good, so fucking pretty moaning his name like that.

"Yeah, baby? Feel's good?" He murmured against your skin as he kissed along your jaw. "You wanna come?"

You nodded, fingernails scratching down his shoulders. You whimpered desperately, legs quivering in his hold.

"Let go, pretty girl. Come 'round my cock... that's it."

You came with a loud moan of his name, and he slammed his mouth to yours to swallow it whole. Your cunt spasmed around his cock as he fucked you roughly through your orgasm, heat blooming across your skin. He pulled his face away from yours, lips brushing as he panted, chasing his own high.

"F-fuck," he whispered, releasing inside you, followed by a carnal groan into the curve of your neck. He filled you, hot and thick, and the sensations of it flooding your womb made you close your eyes. He didn't pull out for a while. He just held you to the door, breathing deeply. "Alright, sergeant?"

"Yeah... fine..." You breathed. "We should, um, probably get back to the mission."

"Give me a minute." He groaned, still deep inside you, making you laugh.

•º•

When you did finally leave the bathroom, you made yourself look as presentable as you could before you left a couple of minutes after Ghost. You shoved your ear-piece back into your ear and turned it on. Immediately, you were greeted by Soap's voice.

—Good bathroom break, sarge?—

"Shut up, Soap."

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lazy writing sorry i'm tired lol

[writersdrug]

Ghost x Reader x Konig: I Don't Need You (Ch. 7)

<- Previous - Next ->

Summary: It's time for your first mission working with Kortac. You're stuck reminiscing on the past, accidentally drawing similarities between it and the present. Additionally, you see a new side of Konig.

Chapter Warnings: Smut, semi-public sex, cursing, gore, blood, violence, bad attempts at using military terms (listen I tried to do my best researching this but obviously I ain't in the army)

Notes: Hey! Procrastination is a thing... and it had me in a chokehold these last few weeks. But - and I know I say this often - hopefully I'll get something else posted either tonight or tomorrow. Thanks for your patience and your kind comments - I love hearing them!

Ghost dragged me by the hand through the airplane hanger, making me stumble to keep up with him. He walked with purpose in his step, his eyes focused on his own thoughts. I bit my lip as I jogged behind him, excitement bubbling in my veins. He had sent me the usual “you up?” text – now, we were running around, trying to find a secluded but dangerously public place to satisfy our urges; something that was beginning to become a weekly occurrence.

He stopped in front of the ramp to the C-130 – one of the largest airplanes on base, used for carrying soldiers before they were airdropped. I looked at him with a confused expression.

Ghost was already looking at me, waiting for my reaction. He tilted his head towards the plane suggestively, gripping my hand tighter.

I suddenly understood what he was hinting at. “On a plane?!” I said with disbelief. “It’s not even in the air, what’s the point?”

Ghost huffed. “You said you wanted something other than my bed.” He replied with an accusatory tone. “What did you expect, your bed?”

I grimaced. Imagining Soap in the room across the hall, listening to me and Simon – and most likely getting off to it – it was the last thing I wanted to happen. “No… but an airplane?”

“Just trust me, ok?” Ghost tugged my hand, leading me onto the aircraft. “Bloody picky, you are.”

“I’m not picky, I just have common sense…” I muttered. Ghost ignored me.

I scowled as he dragged me further into the cargo hold. We moved towards the back, which was rather cramped, even though it was empty. Ghost sat down on one of the seats, close to the cockpit, and spread his legs. The space was small and awkward, and only allowed his left knee to move a few inches. He grumbled, getting up and moving down a seat, where he finally spread his legs apart. He finished the display with a smirk behind his mask, leaning back into the seat.

I watched the entire thing with my arms folded over my chest. “This is ridiculous…” I muttered, turning back towards the ramp.

“Why?” Ghost asked, slightly offended. He grabbed my arm and pulled me back to face him.

I gestured to him, huffing out a laugh. “Just - this! There isn’t enough room for the both of us, the door’s wide open, so someone could just walk in and – “

“They’re not going to see us, Bonnie.” Ghost pulled me by the backs of my thighs and down onto his lap. I grabbed his shoulders as I felt myself sliding off of him, and he gripped my hips to hold me in place. “Relax, love.” He drawled.

For a moment, my heart stuttered. It was the first time he had called me something so endearing… although it was probably force of habit. I stilled my heart – it was never good when it got too involved in anything.

“If we do get caught-“

“I’ll pull rank.” Ghost stated matter-of-factly. He sat on the edge of the seat, allowing me to shuffle closer to his torso. He held my hips down as he slowly pushed his own into me, sending arousal shooting through my abdomen and making me gasp at the feeling. He pushed his balaclava above the bridge of his nose, then pulled me down by the nape of my neck and captured my lips in a kiss.

I moaned into the kiss in satisfaction; his hands on my hips and the taste of him – cigarettes and the whiskey he’d downed earlier that night – felt like a reward after the long day. I ground my hips against his crotch, feeling his hard length straining through the fabric of his cargo pants. He let out a low, guttural groan, running his hand further up my back. In a second, I raised my arms over my head, and he pulled my shirt off, tossing it somewhere in the aircraft.

He looked at me for a moment, kneading the flesh at my hips as his eyes danced over my skin. “You changed your mind rather quickly.” He said with a cocky grin.

“Shut up…” I replied.

Ghost quickly smacked the side of my ass, making me yelp in surprise. He then grabbed my chin, not roughly, but enough to capture my attention. I stared at him with wide eyes.

“Care to try that again?” he asked in a cautioning tone.

“’M sorry!” I said quickly through smushed cheeks.

“’Sorry’ what?”

“’M sorry, sir.”

“Atta girl…” he drawled in a deep voice, before releasing my chin. I couldn’t stop the needy whine that came from my throat. I started grinding my hips on his crotch again, urging Ghost to continue.

He chuckled. “Pretty little slut – do you need me?” he asked, and I immediately nodded. “Use your words, love. Tell me what you want.”

I felt myself clenching around nothing at his deep, gravelly voice. “I- I want you inside me, Ghost.” I admitted quietly.

Ghost clicked his tongue. “Didn’t catch that, doll. Speak up for me.”

I fought a scowl rising in my throat. “I want you to fuck me.” I stated firmly. Normally, I wouldn’t stand for being humiliated like this – except I wasn’t standing. I was straddling Ghost’s lap, grinding on him like a bitch in heat, and following his every order like my life depended on it. And, honestly… I wouldn’t have had it any other way. And I would never fold like this, or let myself be bossed around, for any other man – not in a million years.

Ghost laughed. “Well, before we get that far…” he began unbuttoning my pants, igniting the fire in my lower abdomen. I bit my lip impatiently, watching his hands take their sweet fucking time as they worked down the zipper.

“… I need to get you ready f’me, yeah?” Ghost said teasingly. In the next moment, he pulled down the waistband of my underwear and slid two fingers past my clit.

I sucked in a short breath between my teeth, digging my nails into Ghost’s shoulders as he flicked his fingers over my clit. There was no rhyme or reason to the rhythm, making each flick send jolts of pleasure from my cunt and into my chest.

“Goddamn, there you go…” Ghost cooed as he watched my face contort from the pleasure.

“Bonnie?”

I started bucking my hips as Ghost traced along my lips, groaning as he watched me unravel myself above him. I could tell he was getting off from my obedience – the way I threw my stubbornness to the wind whenever he had control of me was like a drug to him.

“Hey, Bonnie-“

“Look at you.” He commented. I opened my eyes when I heard him unbuckling his belt. I looked down at him – I could see his pupils had dilated, and he was now panting in desire. Even he couldn’t wait any longer.

“Fucking finally…” I whispered.

“Quiet.” He ordered as he pushed his pants down his legs. He pulled out his-

“Bonnie!”

My eyes widened as I was snapped back to the present. I had been staring – glass-eyed and pupils blown wide – at the exact same seat Ghost and I had sat in earlier. Except, I wasn’t on that same plane. I was on Kortac’s C-130 as it flew us out to the mission point.

I looked to my left – Konig was bent over, hands on his knees, staring at me with a confused expression.

“You alright?” he asked. “Is the mini-you in your head bothering you?”

I scoffed. He hasn’t let me live that down ever since I mentioned it. “I’m fine, Colonel. Just tired.”

He straightened up, towering above me at his usual, freakish height. “Well wake up. We’re almost there. Let’s see if you’re as good as Ridgeback says you are.” He then walked away, pulling out his tablet and fiddling with it. It looked comically small in his hands.

Roze shifted in the seat next to me. “Don’t let him get to you. He’s always bossy right before we rendezvous. Gets him in the game, I think.” She tightened her tactical vest around her waist.

“I’d hate to see him on a bad day…” I mutter in her direction.

“You and me both. Imagine a bear, with a gun, on- I don’t know, cocaine or something…” She replied, earning a chuckle from me.

I looked back at Konig. He sat down in the same seat I was staring at moments before. He leaned back, resting his head against the wall and spreading his legs wide. He placed his hands on his thighs. He breathed deeply, like he was trying to calm his nerves. I dragged my eyes over his form – he was huge – I never really paid attention to just how large he really was. He was lean, slightly on the more muscular side, but he had to be pushing… six-eight? Six-nine? I looked at the girth of his thighs. I imagined what it would feel like to straddle his lap… Would it be comfortable? I thought about how Ghost and I had sat in that seat… Except I imagined Konig in Ghost’s position, his large hand on the small of my back, his torso against mine, his fingers in my-

Fuck. I was getting in over my head. I had to stop.

Konig looked at me, his head still leaning against the wall, locking his eyes with mine.

FUCK. I turned my head away quickly – too quickly. I can’t do this. I can’t let this happen again. I pointed my head down at my feet, pretending the floor was more interesting than Konig.

Don’t do this. Don’t do this, y/n. Remember how bad it ended last time? Why you ended up working for Kortac in the first place? You don’t want that again. Just focus on the mission. Focus on your job.

When I looked back at Konig, he was looking at the ceiling. I thought, if I concentrated enough, that I could see his brow furrowed under his mask. His hands were still on his thigs, but they were now tense, gripping at his thick muscles through his pants. His fingers were long, rough, and sturdy, his nails were short… I couldn’t help but drift back to the image of them plunged into my-

Konig’s eyes darted towards mine.

I huffed and looked away again, at the opposite end of the plane. Fucking get it together… I felt my face flushing – as long as I didn’t look in his direction, he wouldn’t see it… right?

I sighed. I need to be spayed…

-----

“Briefing hostages. Stand-by ‘til further notice.” Roze’s voice echoed over the comms. She, Juno, Oni, and Zero had made it to the hostages. Castillo had helped get them there smoothly, and now it was up to Konig, Horangi, O’Connor, Fender, and I to finish taking out the check points. Majka, Ridgeback’s second-in-command and our current operator, had cut comms for the enemy. Konig and Horangi had already started clearing their checkpoints – there wasn’t much coming from their end of the comms, so I assumed they were managing fine.

I made it to the top of the tower I was in, hiding behind the wall outside of the checkpoint I needed to clear. The entire location of the rendezvous was run down – possibly an old, abandoned power plant. The buildings were in a deteriorating state, making it slightly harder to work my way closer to the enemy soldiers in the room. But I was good at being quiet, so I managed.

I carefully peered around the edge of the doorway – the hallway outside of the room was dark enough to conceal me from the soldiers. Two were positioned outside of another wing in the room; one was facing forwards, staring at the room in front of him and guarding the door at his side. The other was looking out the window, completely ignoring the room he was supposed to be guarding. Inside the room appeared to be three more soldiers, two of them sitting at a computer and bitching about the comms being broken, and the third tweaking his sniper foxhole.

They’re a mess… I thought to myself. I smirked, knowing this would be an easy take-down.

“Bonnie to Majka. I’m engaging.” I said into my comms.

A few moments of silence before he responded. “Clear, sergeant. Give ‘em hell.”

“Copy.”

I took a few deep, quick breaths, flooding the oxygen into my blood and keeping the adrenaline at bay. I jumped around the corner and sank a knife into a soldier’s neck. He gurgled and dropped his gun. Another soldier turned at the commotion – I ripped the same knife from the first body and threw it. Rather than shank him, the edge sliced across his jugular. He barely had enough time to lift his gun before he collapsed, grabbing his throat. I grabbed his body as it fell, quietly guiding it to the floor. I picked up my knife and sank to my heels, pressing myself against the wall. The doorway to the next room was to my left. I exhaled silently. In a swift moment, I snatched one of the fallen soldier’s gun and shouldered it. Never hurts to have another one.

I heard the guards in the other room, alerted by the sounds of the struggle. One of them rounded the corner – I hid in the shadow, waiting until he had fully stepped beyond the other room. I used my knife to slash across each of his Achilles tendons, easily cutting past the material of his boot. He fell with a loud cry – I quickly used the butt of my gun by bashing it against his head, knocking him out in two hits.

I saw one of the remaining two guards in the room through the doorway. I quickly threw my knife at him and lodged it in his neck, but not before he managed to pull the trigger on his gun. He fired a few shots as he went down, gun pointed at the ceiling and ricocheting off of the concrete. Before the last soldier could react, I quickly turned into the doorway, shooting him dead in the face with my gun. He flopped against the back of the wall, body twitching for a moment, before he went still.

I turned back around, looking at the third soldier, lying on the ground. I fired one last shot into his head, ensuring he was dead.

I exhaled heavily. Not my smoothest work, but still timely.

I stood in place, assessing the damage around me. The strong scent of iron began to overtake the room, blood seeping from each body. I pulled my knife out of the fourth soldier’s neck, wiping the blood off against his sleeve and sheathing it. I sighed and began scavenging through the bodies for anything useful.

“Bonnie, how copy?” Majka’s thick accent filtered through the comm.

“Checkpoint two cleared.” I responded. I ripped out the magazine from a gun identical to the one I stole, shoving it into my vest. “Upgrading my inventory a bit.”

“You just got started!” he said, a bit frustrated and shocked.

I gave the room a last glance. “And? I just got finished. What’s my next move?”

There was a brief pause. “O’Connor, how copy?”

The click of O’Connor’s comm came on, followed by the sounds of struggling and muffled punches and hits. “Fender and I are still occupied!” he grunted.

“Roze, position status.”

“Package secured, hostages briefed.” Roze’s voice was hushed.“Ready to move, and enemies inbound towards us.”

“Castillo, how copy?”

“One klick out, ready in FFP. Waiting for target.” Castillo responded.

“O’Connor?!”

“Busy!!” O’Connor said, irritated; the faint sounds of gunshots firing echoed in the background.

“Majka, this is Bonnie:” I said quickly among the commotion. “Sir, I’m in range to follow the package from here. I can clear the path with Castillo, I’ve got eyes up to the objective rally point.”

I heard a disgruntled sigh on the other end of the channel. “You don’t have your sniper rifle, Bonnie.” He said.

“My checkpoint had a foxhole. I’m set up with one.” I looked around me; the walls separating me from the outside weren’t that thick, but they would be enough to hide me. “I’ve got decent cover, too.”

“For fucks sake…” Majka sighed into the comm. “Then get on it.”

Immediately, I kneeled beside the sniper rifle the one soldier had been adjusting. I tweaked its position, changing its trajectory until I was satisfied. I unshouldered both of my guns, before sitting in front of the rifle and getting comfortable. I angled it until I saw the building where the hostiles were being kept in my scope.

“I’m in FFP.” I relayed over my comms. “Ready on your command, Majka.”

“Copy.” Majka replied. “Roze, you’re clear to move.”

I watched closely through my scope as Roze exited the building, followed by the hostages and the rest of the team. She led the group, Juno and Zero covering the sides, and Oni covering their six.

“Bonnie, Castillo, talk to me.” She said quietly.

“I eliminated three hostiles on your path, clear to move forward.” Castillo’s voice echoed.

I focused on the area to Roze’s nine ‘o clock. Three enemy soldiers were slowly making their way towards her – I quickly fired at them, taking two of them down with a single bullet as they were lined up perfectly. The third one ducked down, frantically scanning around to find where the bullet had come from. I aimed my crosshair at him and pulled the trigger at him – he dropped to the ground within the same second.

“Three more eliminated. Your nine is clear.” I said to Roze.

“Copy.” She replied.

I continued to scan ahead of their path with my scope. A few times, Juno and Oni fired to the right of the group, followed by a few shots from Castillo. I knocked out two more targets on their left. The rest of the path went smoothly, and they made it to the exfil point. I scanned what parts of the area I could see from my window, searching for any rogue soldiers that might be left. O’Connor and Fender had finished clearing their checkpoint by then. After a few more minutes of that, and the “ok” from Majka to pack up, it was clear that there wasn’t anyone left on the field besides the Kortac team members.

“Well, that was sloppy on their part.” I commented.

“Ridgeback said it would be.” Majka replied. “Said the hostiles were a big enough gang that ended up with powerful weapons, and just wanted some cash. Kidnapped an easy bunch of relatives of a government official. Probably thought they had a chance.”

I chuckled. “So the payout won’t be great, I’m assuming?” I shouldered my guns, grabbing the sniper rifle and exiting the room.

“Don’t be so sure about that…” Juno piped into the conversation, shouting over the sound of the helicopter blades. “Europeans officials are loaded. Plus, they typically pay a lot to save their reputation.”

“You mean their families?”

“Potato, potahto.” Juno replied.

The rest of us reconnected at the exfil point. As with most of the teams I had gone on missions with, I was the cleanest out of everyone. O’Connor and Fender looked tired and worn, blood splattering their uniforms, dropping their guns with their bags and collapsing onto the seats of the aircraft. Horangi, cleaner than some, seemed to be riding off of an adrenaline high, clapping everyone on their backs and declaring a mission well done – despite that it had been a rather easy one.

I dropped myself onto a seat and looked at my hands, only painted with a few smears of blood. I then leaned my head back against the wall. I thought of what I could have done better. I could have caught the one soldier sooner before he hit the ground – that would’ve kept the others from being alerted. I could have been quicker shooting the last one. Cutting the guys heels… that was flashy. Unnecessary. Same for throwing my knife the second time. I could have just shot the last two. Would have made things quicker.

Suddenly, I heard heavy bootsteps climbing the ramp to the plane. I casually opened one of my eyes, then the other, staring in shock.

Konig dragged himself up the ramp. He was covered in bloodstains, across his vest, his mask, his pants – he held his gun, the end of it spattered in blood. His knuckles were tight under his gloves as he clutched the barrel of the gun in one hand, the other hanging by his side. His shoulders were tense, heaving up and down with each, heavy breath, and his body language was laced with venom.

His eyes were the worst part; they peered through his mask, wide and blood-shot. They were dripping with a post-massacre adrenaline. They stared directly ahead as he appeared to calm himself. He looked like a wild animal that had just killed its prey – for fun.

He ripped out his mags and tossed his gun into the pile, taking a seat directly across from me and grabbing his tablet. He began aggressively punching the buttons on it, his eyes still sinister and cold. He muttered under his breath in German, his voice low and gravelly.

I shivered slightly, before looking away from him and back at the ceiling. Is this what Roze was talking about? I thought.

---

Taglist: @igotmajordaddyissues @princekonig @vixionix

Let me know if you'd like to be added!! ^^^

[mushroomnoodles]

I really love Vampires and Tarots as an aesthetic and Simon and Betty as the lover fit that so well. I have a few questions about this AU.

How did the lovers find out about Morri? Did they fear Simon was intolerant of blood or something else?

Did the Vampire King find out about Simon and his powerful wife? (I'd imagine the Vampire King would be interested the possibility of a Vampire reproducing natural instead of a bite. And the side bonus of a power Vampire like Betty must sound appealing. )

Since Simon and Betty didn't separate and Simon didn't find the crown, did they meet Marceline or is this a the Star situation?

Finally how did Simon have the baby, is this a golbaby situation or something else?

Thanks! Your posts are just the best!

ok, buckle the fuckle up because this is a long ass post! i'm slapping a cut on it so you don't have to scroll forever but the general cws still apply- cw/tw for sfw, non kink mpreg and once again, two entire drops of blood.

i'd like to start out with saying THE HANGED MAN/vamp simon definitely had the roughest pregnancy of my au simons.. even compared to "vanilla" simon carrying golbetty's child.

nothing super serious, of course, but.. it didn't help that vamp simon is also physically weaker than other vampires. simon's undead body was not exactly equipped to GROW a life. at first, he couldn't stomach anything- everything he drank came right back up, which weakened him severely. his nausea was BAAAD.

for the first few months of pregnancy the only thing he could keep down was grade A human blood. this is how they found out simon was pregnant in the first place- the lack of blood was making him ill, and simon couldn't even do his regular duties, he spent so much time sick. vampires don't get sick. betty was seeing a repeat of something that happened a long time before.. and took him in to see someone with the power of intuition to tell them what ailed him- TEMPERANCE.

simon had finally been able to keep some blood down, so he wasn't so exhausted when they did visit her.

...they were very confused, but betty was overjoyed! simon was too, but ever the thinker, he wanted to know HOW. the same question the vampire king and the rest of the inner circle had, too. they kept simon's pregnancy a secret from most- with the day a weakness for them, the threat of vampire hunters, and the possibility of a new way to reproduce, the vampire king wanted to keep this exciting news secret until they could figure out the details.

simon, not wanting to be poked and prodded like an exhibit, graciously offered to research the phenomenon himself.

yeah. he has no idea.

the whole inner circle waited to see what kind of child simon would give birth to, given his and betty's powers. would their child inherit those abilities from them, or have something new? what did a living vampire entail?

simon was honestly glad he wasn't being paraded around for public eye, because pretty much every pregnancy symptom hit simon like a truck, even mood swings and cravings. and he was THIRSTY. so thirsty. little miracle needed a lot of nourishment and simon even began to crave actual food- which betty went out of her way to procure for him. (morrigan was alive after all!)

seeing simon so sensitive to his environment and working so hard to find an answer to something she felt he didn't have to worry about sort of set her wife/mother instincts into overdrive.. betty was suuper fucking protective of simon and was not afraid to snap at people or refuse circle visitors for him.

plus, morrigan was very strong and very big, and theyd leave little bruises on simon's belly sometimes. and, naturally, vampire morrigan took longer than nine months to be ready- simon carried them for more like 18 months. but they arrived safely, soundly, and surprisingly quietly, despite simon's undead body struggling for two days to bring them into the world. THE CHARIOT was actually eventually born via caesarean, because they were just.. taking way too long. they weren't ill, just sleepy.

granted, everyone was pretty fucking sleepy at that point.

and to answer the marceline question, yes, simon and betty found marceline as a child! marceline took to being nocturnal like a champ.

they had her for only a few months before they were approached by the vampire king, who had been watching them for a long time- before they even picked up marcy.

he'd seen them use their powers and their wits to stay alive in the apocalyptic wasteland- and later raise a child. he wanted them to join his group of vampires, and offered them marceline's safety in return.

simon and betty said yes, knowing they wouldn't be able to face off against a whole legion of vampires- and certainly not the king, if he decided a no was to be his enemy. and the rest is history.

ahh, i think i got everything?

[theodoraflowerday]

young royals s3e1 episode reaction:

oh god oh lord

let's go

and his LAWYER? is this about sara reporting him?

oh ludwig speaks

THEYRE BEING SUPPORTIVE???? I fr thought their marriage was a sham lol

PILLS????? KRISTINA??????????

bro wille really is a mini kristina huh.

wait simon's never been to the palace before has he?

a SETTLEMENT??????????

BRO HE POSTED CSAM TO THE INTERNET WDYM A SETTLEMENT

oh. my god burn it to the GROUND LINDA

oh? oh my god? what the fuck???

"piss person" well you little bitch baby that is Indeed what you are so

ugh

Linda is so right but so is Simon

I really hope this isn't how it's solved tho I wanna see August burning

"I just want it to be over" oh my baby boy oh my son

what's this hi hi what is this heartstopper

CAN Y'ALL KISS??? IVE WAITED LIKE A YEAR AND A HALF?

"cozy" oh kflfjdlfjdlgkdlgkdlgkdl little shit

(ps if I didn't rewatch yesterday I fully wouldn't have caught that throwback)

when Simon touched the curtain I knew kslfjdlfjdlfjdlfj

THEYRE SUCH PRETTY KISSERS IM GONNA RIP MY LEGS OFF

IS THIS HOW YOU IMAGINED IT

THIS IS BETTER

BROOOOOOOOOOO IM GONNA SHOOT MYSELF IN THE FOOT

omfg they're SO CUTE I'M LOSING MY MIND

oh OH oh they're GOING at it

oh come ON

well that was precious as all hell

and now they're going back inside as if they weren't dry humping in wille's room 3 minutes ago. kings.

I want to smash rickard's face against a fire pit

simon: oh fuck. wille: oh yea you're lucky I didn't shoot you piece of shit

I'm losing my mind at linda being extremely surprised while kristina's like "sighs yeah. fucking figures. erik would never"

also losing my mind at wille's face lil bro is like AND I WILL DO IT AGAIN BAP BAP BAP

[maddie voice] FUCK YOU AUGUST

oh now linda's all disappointed. ok. be a better mom then.

i will literally rip August's face off idc

KRISTINA??????????

KRISTINA

omg felice

oh baby girl no

BUT SARA WAS A SNAKE

I want to give felice so many hugs my bbg

oh my god farima what the fuck sjgldjfkdjfldkf

WHAT THE FUCK

oh my god she really said "ok you're super gay now, wonderful, how can we use this to our advantage"

WELL ASK THEM?? YOU'RE THE LITERAL MOTHER IN THIS SCENARIO. ACT LIKE ONE.

linda has been pissing me tf off since last season idc

omg someone snitched on hillerska

OH

OHHHHHH

OH THEY KISSED IN PUBLIC

OH MY GOD

OH THEYRE GOING ALL OUT

hey now hey now this is what dreams are made of etc etc

BOTH THE CROWN PRINCE AND YOUR BOYFRIEND

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAA

B O Y F R I E N D

let's fuckin GOOOOO ENDGAME BITCHES

if simon sneaks out it's gonna bite them in the ass tho lmao

"sleep with a freshman" August did that twice lmao gross

OH THEY KNEW

OH MY GOD HE'S DOWN BAD

vincent is such an asshole barfs

DONT TALK ABOUT HER LIKE THAT AWAJFLSJFKSJFSKJ

fine. I'm coming out. i am a big august/sara enjoyer.

not the tiny heart that's so fucking cute

he can't get tattoos?? that's such bullshit. get a tramp stamp wille it's what you deserve

not felice unloading on wille and simon HDKFJDKGJ babygirl I love you and you need a therapist bc that's so inappropriate

"how do you get over your best friend" felice baby im gonna send you a google doc called the lesbian masterpost hang on

yeah of course that piece of shit nasty asshole talked to the press lmfao

"ex" y'all kissed like twice, [clare from derry girls voice] look at the state of ya

actually? can rosh and ayub talk to him? with their fists? and a knife preferably?

you know, I actually kinda like nils. he's so fucked up but you can see he genuinely cares abt wille. in his own lil fucked up extremely upper class way.

SARA

SARA NOOOOOOOOOOOO

oh lmfao that's literally how my dad's house looks like when I show up haha sad

omg are they gonna initiate her again

OMG

OMG BABY GIRLS

BRO THEYRE GONNA CLEAN HER ROOM AND TAKE HER TO NEW YORK

TEEN GIRLS BRO

oh wille seems so cozy. wonder what's going to go down now.

oh did they write an article abt simon

oh

oh it was not about simon

oh sweet baby jesus

I mean. it was totally alexander wasn't it lmfao

but also like....... I love that they're blowing that shit up. blow that school up.

ALL CLASSES?????

aw they're sitting together. boyfriends.

"did that happen to you" how is wille more worried abt the gay porn one and not ALL THE OTHER SHIT THEY DID TO HIM

oh I like her she reminds me of the lady from the incredibles

ohhhh

NOT THE PHONES TOO?

get over yourself vincent. fuck you vincent.

oh they're gonna close this shit

aaaaaaaaaaaaaa

fuck okay wonderful

[localspacelesbian]

Taylor Swift & New York

disclaimer: i have never been to new york

Mean (Speak Now)

Someday, I'll be living in a big old city And all you're ever gonna be is mean

i'm just assuming the 'big old city' here is new york city, since that's where she ended up living. she actually mentions wanting to leave her 'small town' and move to 'the big city' a lot, especially on her country albums. (sidenote: is she even from a small town? cause i feel like she's not. but also i don't really care.)

2. Come Back... Be Here (Red)

This is falling in love in the cruelest way This is falling for you when you are worlds away In New York, be here

I guess you're in New York today And I don't wanna need you this way Come back, be here, come back, be here

3. All Too Well (Ten Minute Version)

From when your Brooklyn broke my skin and bones I'm a soldier who's returning half her weight And did the twin flame bruise paint you blue? Just between us, did the love affair maim you, too? 'Cause in this city's barren cold I still remember the first fall of snow And how it glistened as it fell I remember it all too well

i still don't know what the first line here is supposed to mean

4. Welcome To New York (1989)

Welcome to New York It's been waiting for you

Everybody here was someone else Before And you can want who you want Boys and boys and Girls and girls

Like any great love it keeps you Guessing Like any real love It's ever-changing Like any true love It drives you crazy But you know you wouldn't Change anything anything

obviously, the whole song is about new york, but i tried to pick out lyric that describe the city and how she feels about it. lowkey reminds me of that scene in love simon where he imagines what it would be like to move to new york (i think it was new york anyway? it might have just been a generic big city) and be gay. it's giving 'finally free'

sidenote: i would probably consider this song her first public coming out? i know there's some gay lyrics in her older songs, and she was super gay on myspace back in the day, but singing about how she's excited to be somewhere girls can like girls is pretty blatant. just saying. (also, this came out (pun intended) like a year before gay marriage was legalized in the whole country. so being in a state where it was already legal is kind of a big deal. even if she personally has no interest in getting married)

5. Delicate (Reputation)

Dive bar on the East Side, where you at? Phone lights up my nightstand in the black Come here, you can meet me in the back

Third floor on the West Side, me and you Handsome, you're a mansion with a view Do the girls back home touch you like I do?

i'm just kind of assuming pretty much any location mentioned since 1989 (the album, not the year) is in new york unless proven otherwise

(also, did they meet at a bar or at the met gala? i've never understood this)

6. This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things

It was so nice throwing big parties Jump into the pool from the balcony Everyone swimming in a champagne sea And there are no rules when you show up here Bass beat rattling the chandelier Feeling so Gatsby for that whole year

maybe a stretch, but The Great Gatsby takes place in new york city

7. I Think He Knows (Lover)

He got my heartbeat Skipping down 16th Avenue

8. Cornelia Street

"I rent a place on Cornelia Street" I say casually in the car

And baby, I get mystified by how this city screams your name And baby, I'm so terrified of if you ever walk away I'd never walk Cornelia Street again

I packed my bags, left Cornelia Street Before you even knew I was gone But then you called, showed your hand I turned around before I hit the tunnel Sat on the roof, you and I

ok, this one i know is referring to her apartment on cornelia street in new york

9. False God

And I can't talk to you when you're like this Staring out the window like I'm not your favorite town I'm New York City, I still do it for you, babe

And you can't talk to me when I'm like this Daring you to leave me just so I can try and scare you You're the West Village You still do it for me, babe

10. Daylight

My love was as cruel as the cities I lived in

And I can still see it all (In my head) Back and forth from New York (Sneaking in your bed) I once believed love would be (Burning red) But it's golden

11. hoax (folklore)

You know I left a part of me back in New York You knew the hero died, so what's the movie for You knew it still hurts underneath my scars From when they pulled me apart

12. coney island (evermore)

And I'm sitting on a bench in Coney Island wondering where did my baby go? The fast times, the bright lights, the merry go

Were you waiting at our old spot In the tree line by the gold clock

13. Maroon (Midnights)

And I lost you The one I was dancing with in New York No shoes

there being 13 seems fitting, but let me know if i missed any

[seansilv25]

Another 6 months and the end of a year, it's time fore the 2023 Audio-Visual Media Tier List finale!

Smartphone Abridged: My god that was perfect. Too bas SWE went through hell to make it

Don't Worry, Be Fluffy: Fluffy's back, and fluffier than ever!

Subspace Fandub: Somehow, I feel like I'm not supposed to be here

Once Upon a Studio: Look, I don't care what your views on the company are, that shit was cute ok?

Nickelodeon All-Star Brawl 2: You guys know that meme of the horse drawing segmented off by drawing quality? Yeah, imagine the roster as the poorly-drawn part and you have my thoughts on the game

Steamboat Silly: The short was great, but it's kind of crazy to think Mickey is technically public domain now. Can't wait for the inevitable "Steamboat Killie" horror flick

Haunted Mansion (2023): Normally I'm not that big a fan of the Haunted Mansion because I'm a pussy but that was really good

Scooby-Doo in Springtrapped: Cute short, and it's crazy how that was all 3D animation and not puppetry

8-Bit Christmas: A surprise watch to be sure, but a welcome one

Casino Royale: My first real 007 experience. If I were to describe it, I'd say it was... shaken and not stirred

Halloween: Man this was so much better than Friday the 13th

TMNT Mutant Mayhem: Pretty neat. I never thought I'd hear Fabulous Secret Powers in a major motion picture

Abridgimon the Movie: That was pretty funny. PUT IT ON A SHIRT!

Straight Out of Nowhere: It's cute seeing Scooby and Courage interact (Thank fuck neither of them had to kill each other in DB)

FNAF Movie: I still can't believe it's finally here. Talk about development hell

Gen V: Pretty good like the main show, but a lot of the more "degenerate" aspects felt more there just for shock value

FGO First Order: My first dip into the Fate series and now I'm hanging onto a thread for dear life help

FGO Absolute Demonic Front: Like First Order but just so... SO much longer

Transformers the Movie: Neat and has a cool soundtrack. I mean, Dare to be Stupid over a junkyard chase? Bruh (Galactus still chumps Unicron BTW)

Castlevania Nocturne: Cool and all, but next time could we not skip Simon please?

Fate Apocrypha: Like the other two, but a little shorter and more "eh" (Also with 10% more femboy)

Friday the 13th: Wait, so these movies didn't start with the hockey mask Jason we all know and love? ...What?

Secret Invasion: It was fine. 'Nuff said

As is usual, you can find the other half of my thoughts on the rest of my page (Might have to dig a bit tho) but other than that, I hope whoever shall read this has a good new year! Let's see if we can at all dig our way back up out of whatever we've gotten ourselves into.

[simon-x-billy]

Simon x Billy

Chapter 7: Where’s the helipad

Most gifs from @vousnavezrienvu If I have left an image or gif of yours uncredited, please tell me

AN: Enjoy the sweet sweet sounds of helicopter blades slicing through the air. I love the helicopter scene so much. It is happy-making. It just makes me love both of them for each other. (Let's ignore the fact that I wrote it.) And it's been sitting there patiently, completed, waiting for me to write literally every chapter before this one.

We are so close to the sex, guys. So close. This is the last SFW chapter for a while. Bask in the virginal dude-bro atmosphere, and let people know that you read the chapters before they were cool.

TW: Drunkenness. If alcohol is triggering for you, no need to read the last teeny section after we first meet Barry. Rest assured that Simon gets home safely and says cute stuff, then happily goes to bed.

Masterlist | Start: Chapter 1 | Prev: Chapter 6 | Next: Chapter 7.5

Playlist! 1. Me Myself & I by De La Soul || 2. Mirror in the Bathroom by English Beat || 3. Sunday Bloody Sunday by U2

Chapter 7: Where’s the helipad

—--/Simon/—--

I am trying to stop thinking about falling to my death. Give me a minute.

Ok, so this is…..This is a long flight of fucking rickety, wind-blasted wood. Not like that metal set of stairs with all the switchbacks I was complaining about last time I encountered stairs. I take all of my complaints back about that place. That was the height of stair-building technology by comparison. This place is just…..language fails me, like I’m picturing the stairs failing me any second now.

So have I mentioned that the Hotel di Limoni was originally a private home? Pretty big family, I guess. Prolly a summer vacation villa, cuz this coastline has been a summer-getaway spot for centuries. Scratch that. For millenia. Yes, the view from my room is insanity. But what you can’t view from up in my room is the tiny strip of beach wayyyyy down there at the bottom.

Both shots are from the website of the actual Hotel La Tonnarella, which is the hotel I based my fictional hotel on. Yes, it really looks like that. Yes, I did stay there. Best decision I’ve ever made. You can faintly see the stairs, at left. It’s that pale diagonal line down the cliff from the hotel at top left down toward the beach, crossing right in front of that ruin in the middle, halfway down the cliff.

Beaches are a rarity on the Amalfi Coast. Anybody with two inches of it will stick a beach umbrella in it. So imagine owning the only access to an entire beach. There is one stairway, and the hotel owns it. Yeah, its size is probably more aptly described as a mini-beach, but still, it is a goldmine for a hotel. And the public pay handsomely for what the guests get for free: a beach lounger. (These are pebble beaches. Nobody wants to lie on sharp and lumpy rocks.)

The only other access to the beach is from the water. And there are a lot -- I mean a lot of yachts around here. They will never, ever look normal to me. But they’re starting to look like a normal thing around here. And I’m told these aren’t even the big ones. Fuck me.

Anyway, we’ve seen the (only) road and there’s definitely no place to do my morning run. It doesn’t even have a shoulder. I guess if I can’t run without being squashed, I could do the steps when I wake up. Better than nothing. It’s just… we’ve seen that I hate stairs. Steep stairs. Cliff stairs.

Fuck. Besides being terrifying, it was tiring just getting down here. What am I going to do when I have to go back up?

Anyway, Billy’s working down here today. And I really feel like disrupting his job well done.

“Will yeh just look at your man now. Down the beach, explorin,” he calls, as I approach the hotel’s beach cafe. “You didn’t take the stairs, did yeh?”

“Um, yeah? I wanted to see the beach.”

“Why didn’t yeh take the lift?”

I fix the man to his spot with a very frowny, very deep, “Would you mind repeating that, Billy?” Like if Patrick Warburton was playing me in the movie. I can barely see through my eyes that have now narrowed to slits of disbelief and distrust. “There’s an elevator?”

“Well, yeah man. How else are people meant to get down here? The cliff’s a dangerous way down, innit.”

Ok, Lewis. You can incorporate this new information without flipping out. Just be proud of yourself for facing your fears. You descended steep, unsafe stairs. Good job! And you were only vaguely terrified the whole time. Good job!

“Is the cliff so dangerous that they should close it down due to the mounting death toll? Or is it only dangerous in an inoffensive, cute way?”

He huffs out a quick laugh, then returns to slicing up lemons and limes.

“Billy? That was an actual question. Care to provide an answer?”

“Meh, it’s safe enough,” he says. And that, ladies and gentleladies, is all I need to convince me I can indeed use this as my new Italian morning exercise routine. 1. Cliff, 2. Coffee, 3. Cliff, 4. Vomiting coffee. Perfect.

—--/-/—--

I’ve spent the week forging a grudging relationship with the beach stairs.

I’m getting a little more used to it. I have a few specific stones and broken twigs I’ve chosen as landmarks, whenever I require reassurance that I am indeed climbing down the right cliff. And if I’ve survived it the last four mornings, I can survive it a fifth time. Flawless reasoning.

Behind the bar, Billy gives me a wave as he sees me approaching. “You packed, man?”

My insides instantly start fizzing. I am so freaking pumped. I got us an airbnb in Naples for the weekend so we can check out Sabina’s show tomorrow night. Billy could not say yes fast enough. He’s a social guy, and there’s not a lot of nightlife around here. I have no idea how he’s managed it all this time. Oh wait. He’s managed it with women. Lots of women.

Over the last week, I’ve come to the realization that management does not mind a guest hanging out at the bar distracting their employee all day, because while that person is distracting the employee, he is also ordering drink after drink, and healthy fruit-based foods. It’s like they’ve realized that my distraction of Billy might actually be lucrative for them.

“I have come to a decision,” I declare as I take my seat at the bar. “We need a convertible.”

“Sorry?”

“A convertible. We need one.”

“Yeah, mate, heard yeh.”

“What, it’s a convertible!”

Billy remains unmoved. “Why can’t we take the train? It’s simplest-”

“We are not taking the train.”

“But I quite like the train.”

“Because you’re insane and don’t like convertibles.”

“See now, I never said I don’t like convertibles. I-”

“I need to do something.” Because my brain just exploded with potential.

“What?”

“Be an Ugly American.”

“Em, that sounds terrible,” he says.

“If you’re gonna be American, you might as well own it. Watch me own it, Billy, just watch me.”

He still looks wary. “That sounds-”

“Awesome.”

“-terrible. You’re not going to wear one of them caps with straws into beer cans, are yeh? Actually, I might pay yeh to do that.” He snorts at whatever he’s picturing.

“Ok, not that ugly.”

I’ve got the phone out and I’m already dialing before I’ve even reached the stairs. And then I remember I can also take the elevator.

—--/-/—--

You ever notice there’s an ugh in ugly?

Billy has finally met up with me at the fountain by the hotel entrance. Thank god, cuz I really don’t want him to miss the arrival of that Ugly American thing that required a phone call.

“There you are, Delaney. MWAH hah ha ha hahhhhh! Prepare to hear the sweet sweet sound of helicopter blades pulsing through the air. It’s done, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”

“Simon-”

“So where’s the helipad?” I inquire.

“The what now? Mate, it’s not that kind of hotel. Why are we taking a helicopter to the city?”

“The appropriate response would normally be ‘because we can’-”

“That is not a normal response.”

“-but not this time,” I finish. “That’s not the real idea.”

“Oh, so you’re tellin me this is a superfluous helicopter. That is ugly.”

“No! It is most definitely not superfluous.”

“Your carbon footprint’ll be spendin all eternity in hell, man.”

“Billy.”

“Simon.”

“Stop talking. And just enjoy the mounting anticipation. The mellow sense of terror. Or at the very least a nasty case of creeping dread.  MWAH hah ha ha hahhhh!”

“Stop it, mate. You’re gettin evil genius all over my uniform. And you know how I feel about laundry.”

“Just a little bicarbonate of soda. Gets out even the most organic of stains. MWAH hah ha ha hahhhhh.”

“Simon.”

“Billy.”

“Stop talkin. Like an evil genius. Stop evil cackling all the time. We’re gettin complaints.”

“Are not.”

“From me. I’m complainin.”

“What am I going to wear?”

“Simon. Oh my god.”

“I’m serious! I packed for Italy in ten minutes. It’s all socks and shorts.”

He’s shaking his head at me. For some reason, this makes me happy. In my tummy.  How novel. And then…

“Is that the fire alarm?” he asks.

“Huh? I mean, MWAH hah ha ha haaaah, oh no. It is the sweet sweet purring of a helicopter bearing my booty.”

Billy jumps on it swiftly. “You didn’t think that one through, mate.”

“Oh, but yes, yes I did. The booty is worth baring. Can you feel it? The heady excitement of anticipation? The mellow terror?”

“Yes. I feel the terror,” he says blandly.

“That would be the best cologne flavor ever. Mellow Terror, by Simon Lewis. Pour homme.”

“Are you manic right now?”

—--/Billy/—--

I was joking, but Simon just went very still. I’ve put my foot in, haven’t I?

“I am a bit manic, am’nt I?” he offers, with a fake little laugh.

“Somethin wrong with your shoes, mate? Simon, man, my eyes are up here.”

“Just wait til you see what I’ve done,” he says, sheepishly, eyeing me from under his caterpillars.

“Simon. Should I be worried?”

“Oops?”

Oops? I haven’t a clue what to do with oops.

He grabs me excitedly by the forearm and starts dragging me toward the hotel gates.

That’s…Wait, is that-

“Simon. Did you buy a Mini Cooper?”

“A convertible Mini Cooper.”

“But why ?” I ask the reasonable question.

“Because I can!” He’s practically vibrating. I can tell he wants to do his jumping-clapping thing by the way he’s currently bouncing on his toes.

“Simon.”

“Billy.”

“You bought a Mini Cooper. Convertible, ” I swiftly add. “You’re in the land that built the Maserati, the Lamborghini, the Ferrari, and every other sports car that ends in i-”

“Not Audi.”

I huff in annoyance, “-and you bought a convertible Mini Cooper. And had it airlifted here. Because you could.”

“I’ve always wanted a convertible Mini Cooper.”

“But not a convertible Ferrari,” I clarify.

“No.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m awesome,” he answers, because he’s Simon.

I decide not to mention that we could have skipped the car altogether and taken the helicopter to Naples.

This is so childish, and impetuous, and reckless, and I refuse to find the actions of a grown man adorable. Jaysus.

“Oh my god!” he squeaks. “They were driving Minis in The Italian Job!!!”

Shaking my head. Just shaking my head.

“Did you have them airlift in some clothes, too?”

“Shit! I totally should have!” He appears to actually mean that.

“You should see your face,” he hoots. Feckin hoots, all half bent over from laughin.

And now he’s ignoring me. It’s like I’m not even there. He only has eyes for his Mini. “Oh my god it’s so kawaii.”

His smile is kawaii.

“Go away,” he flaps a hand at me. “I want to fangirl freely and without judgment from a judgy Irishman.”

“Fine. I need to pack anyway.”

And off behind me I hear him call, “Wait! What am I gonna wear?”

Shaking my head. Just shaking my head.

—--/-/—--

I’ve gathered my gear, and I can see Simon out by the car park. I’m hitching up my pack, so it isn’t really until I’ve cleared all the foliage, that I realize Simon is humping his Mini Cooper convertible. “All right?” I ask, tryin to keep a straight face.

“Oh, yes. All is definitely right,” he purrs.

“Have you turned her on yet, or is it just you who’s turned on?”

He slides off the car til his Converse hit the pavement with a slap.

Now he’s draping himself over the boot. I can’t help it that I’m laughing. Sometimes he just hits me at exactly the right moment to set me to belly laughin. Doesn’t happen often with Simon, but when it does, he wears the greatest surprised happy face I’ve ever seen. This time there’s giggling. Off to a good start, which is good. Yes. Good.

I hesitate. “Look, mate. Will this thing actually fit us? Have you tried?” I eyeball the car. “I am quite seriously concerned that we might actually need the top down to ride in this thing. How tall are you, anyway?”

“Six feet. Why? How tall are you?”

“Just a bit taller. But not enough for you to get intimidated, mate. I’m sure the ladies won’t notice when I introduce my small friend.”

“You’re short shaming me. No, that’s ok. I don’t take offense. You just seem to need a lot of reassurance about your size, Billy. I mean, sure, it’s ok to want to be bigger. I assume. I wouldn’t know.”

“Mate, get off the boot so I can shove this in there, and we can go.” He does, and I do. “Thanks for not getting the red, white, and blue one.” There is a god. Thank you, Poseidon.

“They were out of orange, white, and green, too.”

“You asked about the tricolor, did yeh?” Alright fine, he’s got me laughin again.

“Fuck out of the driver’s seat!” he roars.

Wow. He looks proper angry. I admit I may have even flinched.

“Don’t you want a car and a driver? No, serious, don’t yeh want me to drive, since I know the way?”

“ Get the fuck out of the driver’s seat, Billy. Now!”

“Alright! Fine, fine. You’ll be usin GPS then, will yeh?”

“Si si si, certo.”

I groan. “This is all about to go so very-”

“Awesome,” he declares. “This is all about to continue to be awesome. Be the change, Billy. Be the change!”

“Oh my god Simon.”

“I can hear you rolling your eyes from here,” he says from behind the boot, which he slams shut a little too hard. I feel it in every moving piece of this tiny automobile. Bigger than a SMART car, so I suppose I shouldn’t be complainin. Well, here’s hoping he’s still so enthused about it at the other end.

“Gotta say, mate. I’m surprised you’d want to drive at all.”

“Why not?”

“Because mate, it’s Italy, innit. Famous for frightenin foreign drivers.” He has to remember what the drivin was like his other three trips down this road. “Well,” I sigh. “At least you get to drive on the wrong side of the road in Italy.”

—--/-/—--

“See? I told you you’d fit.”

“Alright man, you did.”

“Come on, give it up…

“What?” I’m not laughing, I promise. “Is she a smooth ride? I don’t know, man, why don’t yeh start her up ‘n find out?”

“Well there is that. So yeah,” he says as he pulls out of the car park and up to the mouth of the hotel driveway. “It’s to the left, right?”

“Em, yeah. Yes, the city of Naples is still in the general direction of left. Like the other three times we’ve done this road together.”

He rolls his eyes, and all is right and well in the world. Until the moment he pulls out onto the road. Then I’m brought up quick by the realization that between us we know fuck all about the convertible Mini Cooper. “Wait, where’s the GPS on her, for the flat’s address?”

“I dunno, check the screen thing.” So helpful, my man Simon is.

“Do you even have an Italian driver’s license? Or insurance? I love this guy. How’ve yeh managed to live this long being the way you are?” I pause for an answer, but none is forthcoming. “I mean, fucksake, Simon. You called someone to buy you a car and suddenly you’re on the highway to Naples. Do you even know where the directionals are? Or like, the wipers? D’you know what I mean? Should I be concerned for my safety, Mr. Clever Clogs?”

“Shoosh. Don’t jinx us. Do you need to have registration in Italy? Or insurance? I don’t know. Italy doesn’t really strike me as a big insurance-y type of country.”

“Not a bad point, actually. But I take it you have….whatever, I dunno, papers and all that?”

“Don’t know. What’s in the glove box?” He makes a flappy gesture in the general direction of my knees.

“How are you like this? Were you actually born like this, or did it come with fame and wealth?”

“You mean, was I actually born a flaming asshole, or just become one?”

“Meh. Yeah,” I shrug. “We’ll go with that. So, what’ll it be?”

“Ow. Straight for the throat, Delaney.” His tone is recriminating. “Uncool, man. Uncool.”

I’m flipping through the owner’s manual. Before long, I’ve got the time plugged in, programmed everything for his phone, located the GPS, cued up some tunes, and even found the button to pop the bonnet. “There you go. It’s workin now.”

“What’s working?” he asks.

I shrug. “Everything, man. Everything.”

He barks out a laugh, and I realize I’m smiling to myself. Grumpy fuck.

I plug in the address for the flat and immediately the voice pumping out the radio is a woman speaking Italian. Now I’m fumbling with it again, while Simon’s stuck in a fit of laughter.

“Aw, come on! Let’s see how we do in Italian,” he gasps out.

“Fucksake. See how we do in Italian.” Shaking my head.

“No, seriously. Let’s hear what she has to say, this ummmmm, what should we call her - Maria! Because obviously, Maria.”

“Certo.” That gets me another laugh.

“Santa Maria, show us the way, in Italiano,” he pleads in a truly horrendous accent. “I am so happy right now.”

He says it with a laugh. Such a thing to so easily roll off the tongue. Fella I met a few months ago, I never would have pictured bein happy, let alone noticing it, naming it, declaring it. Nice to see. Unexpected, know what I mean.

“I don’t trust you when you’re quiet that long, Delaney.”

“Hm?”

“Exactly.”

Am I missing something?

“Ok, so.” He clears his throat. “We know who I am. Who are you? Let’s hear it. Who is Billy Delaney?”

Aw, man. Serious? “How long we got?” Please don’t make me.

“How would I know? Maria’s speaking your language, not mine.” He shrugs.

“Fair enough.” I hit play on my playlist, hoping the conversatin will trail off from there. But of course it doesn’t, because this is Simon. Si. Certo.

“What. Do you have some horrible second identity thing going on? Are you really even Irish? Truth time, Delaney.”

“You show me yours, I’ll show you mine?”

“Yeah, ok.”

“Oh.” Uh, erm…..”So, what mate? What do you want to know?” I ask, though truthfully I wish he’d just let it go.

“Is your name really Billy Delaney, and are you actually even from Ireland at all?”

“Yes.”

“Boring.”

“Brief.”

“Obtuse.”

“Si.”

“Oh my god, Billy. So where are you from?”

“Ireland.”

He looks around us rapidly. “Is she going to start speaking Italian? Cuz we just passed Ercolano.”

“Already?”

“Yeah! I know, right? Time flies when you’re torturing someone for information. So should I panic?”

“Nah, we've a bit more road before we turn aside. Maria can sleep on.”

“Alright. I swear to God, Billy. If you don’t start coughing up some details, I'm serious, I will pull this car over. Do I have to pull this car over, kid?”

“Wow, that’s forceful.” Cos it is. “Ow!” I flinch when he swats my shoulder with a backhand.

“Fine, ye bastard. My name is actually Lola, but I go by Billy Delaney. And I’m only mostly joking. One of the summer cousins I used to play soccer with couldn’t say William, when we were little. So for a few months every year, I was Lola. There. Was that not juicy enough for yeh?”

“Charming. But from that I got these few details: 1. You have cousins. Conceivably fertile ground. We could continue that way. 2. You play soccer, and you call it soccer. Isn’t that illegal outside the US? No- don’t answer that. I’m not finished. 3. You go someplace where there are cousins to play soccer with in summer. Are we even still in Ireland?”

Em. I just sort of sit there and wait.

“And you really don’t want to talk about this, do you?”

“You are so easily distracted,” I tease him. “No, but seriously, here’s some details for yeh. I’m 27. I left Ireland at 18, after gettin out of culinary school, and was sent out to do my apprenticeship. That was at a manor house near Galway.”

“And…..”

“That’s not enough?” I thought that was a fair bit of information, if I’m honest.

“Do I have to turn this car around, young man?”

“I feel like I’m missin some essential cultural reference, here.”

“Don’t distract me with your distractions, Delaney. Feed me.”

And that’s when Maria tells us to turn left.

—--/Simon/—--

I can’t fuckin believe that there are Irish pubs in Italy. Nor can I believe I’m  in one. I mean, where do Italians go to watch soccer? This can’t be right.

“All right?”  Billy asks the bartender.

“Howeyeh,” says the man back to him, and Billy’s eyes go comically wide.

Next thing I know, I’m bored stiff, pretending to find the intricacies of European football interesting with a Welsh guy named Barry.

And whoa, turns out Billy’s day-to-day accent is pretty washed out in comparison to the thickness of his accent when he’s speaking to his new BFF. They’re speaking so fast that I can’t understand a word through their accents. Welsh is so much easier.

That is, until I hear a voice disturbingly similar to Billy’s, requesting a Bud.

I swing back around in time to see Billy’s new BFF nod at him and begin turning toward the draft beers.

“No! Wait,” I wave. “He’s only joking,” I say, emphatically shaking my head no.

“Oh,” the Irish bartender looks back to Billy in surprise. “Were you?”

“Course he was! Certo.” Ok, fine. It might not have been Billy’s best-executed joke, but what , does the guy think I’m just making it up?

“Why ‘ of course ’?!” Billy turns on his barstool to face me. “What the fuck, Simon?”

“Sorry if I fucked up your joke, dude, but don’t drag it out, ok?” I say under my breath.

Disparaging other people’s beer of choice is like a national pastime in Brooklyn, because it frequently employs irony, and we are naturally good at it from birth. Don’t blame him, he’s new.

“I’ll take that Bud,” Billy reiterates. “Ta, mate.” The barkeep returns his nod and goes about the business of it.

“Billy? We’ve talked about this. You swore you’re Irish. Were you lying to me? Are you a lying liar who lies?”

“Why do yeh say that?”

“Because you can’t – you’re not – you’re not, like, allowed to drink bad beer when you’re Irish. Isn’t that illegal? Or fatal, or something?”

The big ape is just lazing back against the bar, sipping his pint of piss beer, looking at me in amusement.

“You’re like a caricature of yourself sometimes, Simon, d’yeh know what I mean?”

“Fuckin- What?! That’s not very nice! I’m outraged.”

“You should see yerself, mate. Yeh look like your face is about ready to split down the middle and outrage’ll start pourin out like lava from the fissures.”

I stop and cock my head at him. “That was both specific and descriptive. Nice one. But that said, how dare you! I demand an apology.” I’m trying really hard to keep a straight face. He has no intention of making it easy for me.

“Apologize? For what?” He gives me a cock-eyed grin. Oh look, his cock eyes are doing that twinkly thing again.

“You have offended my good taste and have let down your countrymen and native soil. Or water or whatever it is that makes all beer taste better in Ireland. The least you could do is the decent thing and apologize to your countrymen, and me , and then hide it in your jacket where no one can see you sneaking sips!”

He laughs because he thinks I’m joking.

“Do you just not like beer at all? And that’s why you don’t order the good stuff?”

“Simon, you are such a snob,” he says, and goes right on twinkling.

“Correct. And if you’re going to drink cheap beer, for god’s sake, order PBR and salvage at least some of your self respect.”

“Do you know this man?” the bartender asks Billy. “Is he harassin yeh?”

Billy is now laughing so hard that he’s almost fallen off his stool.

“We know each other,” I reassure the barkeep. “Don’t know how long that’ll last, all considered, though. Check back for updates.” I raise my pint of Guinness in respect.

“It’s czech. Budvar,” the man informs me.

“Ah, no! Why’d yeh tell him, mate!” Billy raises his hands theatrically. I’m telling you, theatre school. “Yeh just had to put him out of my misery, yeah?”

“And my misery,” says the man.

—--/-/—--

Ok, so what is it with the whole pub drunkenly singing “oh-ay-oh-ay” at the top of their drunken lungs, sloshin beer out of their pint glasses, whenever Europeans play soccer. Mebbe they sing it in Southmerica, too. Butwhatevercuz I don’ really care.

If you can’t – beat em then join em. Thassmymott, um, -o. Thassmy motto. Motto.

Where’s Billy? I can’t see him. If thissperson would get out of the frickin way. He’s all backed up against my face’n I can’t see. Anything. Nothin to see here, folks. Move along, people, move along.

Where’s Billy? Oyeah, right right right. Right here in my face.

I figure it’ll be easier to keep track of him if I hold onto his belt loop. Or a pocket or something. Yeah, I’m just gonna hang on to his pocket.

Pocket.

I like the word pocket. Lossa hard consnits that pop. Pop.

Pop.

I like the word pop. It sounz like it pops. And it’s the same backwards and forwards an’itsall about the lips. Pop ’ing.

What? Where’s he going. I’m trailing after him with my hand in his pocket. He keeps pullin it out and I keep puttin it back in. Oth’wise I’m gonna get lost and then where would I be? Huh? I wouldn’t even know !

“Oh! Now I know where we are! We’re on the block where we’re were where gonna sleep.” If make it up th’stairs. But Billy’s helping. He’s nice like that.

“You’re nice like that,” I say with a big smile. “And you‘re funny lookin.”

Wait.

“Oops! I mean yerlookin funny at me right now. Whass funny? ‘m’I funny? Or juss funny lookin?”

I crack myself up. Like in real life, cuz I’m laughing. Right now. Sometimes iss hard to stop laughin but I’ll be ok.

“Billy. Billy! Hey, Billy. What’re you doing? Tryin to get in my pants? That tickles! Oh, hey! Did we win? I mean, I don’really care - just wonren.”

Hey! Tickles! “Stop that! How’dyou know I don’t wanna wear those? I’ll take ‘em off when I feel like it. Prollymaybe take ‘em off tomorrow. Hey! I was wearing that! And that!”

He’s very pushy. “You’re very pushy. Stop pushing.”

I land on the bed and it’s like fluffy clouds of teddybears. “K, fine. I’ll go to bed, jeez .” Alls I wanna do is bury my face in pillow, but can’t breathe when I do that.

“Don’t close the door all the way, Ma. And leave the hall light on, K? g’Night, love you too.”

Masterlist | Start: Chapter 1 | Prev: Chapter 6 | Next: Chapter 7.5

[beclynn-herondale]

In Another Universe

The characters and The Mortal Instruments belong to Cassandra Clare

Clar was walking towards the door to pandemonium, Joan and Simone were with him, they often went, his sister always insisted he interact with strangers, he never understood why, he had her and his best friend Simone, and Luke and Mom, wasn't that enough, not to mention he was so awkward.

He saw a blue haired girl, she was good looking and attractive, he noticed Joan caught him staring and she gave him a teasing look, he rolled his eyes at his sister.

______

Jayce was with Iz and Alec, they were hunting down a demon, she was walking beside Alec and just enjoying the silence, when she saw a boy with bright red hair and thought of the sunset, she never told people of how she viewed things, she would often compare them to nature and poems and what not, some didn't understand that and she didn't want people to know much about her or think she's weak. But the boy's hair was beautiful, and she had always liked red sunsets.

Alec caught her staring and mentioned it, Iz did as well

"Does someone have a crush?" Iz teased.

"No, I don't get crushes," Jayce said.

"Well you were staring at that boy," Alec answered in her shy way.

She sighed

Alec started saying something and it was wrong, she corrected her but the joke was ruined, she loved her parabatai but sometimes she didn't always understand how jokes worked.

"Alec look, it's... Never mind, the joke is ruined," she said

Alec looked at her funny, and brushed it off, she was glad Alec wasn't the type to pry, Jace hated talking about feelings and getting real with people, she preferred to fight demons and keep things light and sarcastic, she pulled out her seraph blade getting ready to hunt the demon Iz was luring to that closet.

______

Clar was dancing, so was Joan and Simone, unlike himself and Simone, Joan was a good dancer, she always had graceful moves, and good balance.

At that moment Clar saw a raven haired boy moving through the crowd, he was beautiful in a way that he couldn't explain, but his Artist eyes knew that he was beautiful.

He saw him go towards the blue haired girl he had saw earlier and talk to her, they appeared to be flirting, they headed to the maintenance closet, some people did things like that, Clar had never thought of himself ever doing that in public.

Then he saw a blonde girl with a raven haired girl walking towards the closet, they both had what looked like daggers or maybe swords. Clar felt panic, were they going to murder them?

"Clar, are you okay?" Asked Simone

Her and Joan were staring at him with concern.

"those people there, they are going to kill that girl and boy," Clar said

Joan looked at him like he had lost it and Simone with deep worry

"Clar, what in the devil are you talking about?" Said his sister

"Listen, do I ever make this stuff up?" He said

"No," Simone answered

"We need to get help," he told his best friend and sister

"Ok," said Simone

Her and Joan made their way through the crowd as Clar went after them, Joan was good at getting people to move out of the way. Clar had said he'd stay here but he couldn't wait for security.

He made his way to the maintenance closet and opened the door.

When he went in he saw that the raven haired boy had tied up the blue haired girl with what look like electric wire, and the blue haired girl said something about a Valentine, he had no idea what that was or why they were talking about a Valentine's on August.

The blonde girl said "Every time we catch one of you, you say Valentine is back, but let me tell you, Valentine is dead and has been for years."

"Jayce, just kill it already," said the raven haired girl

So the blonde's name was Jayce

"Alec and Iz say I talk too much, do you think I talk too much?" Jayce the blonde asked the demon.

Alec and Iz, which was which he wondered.

"Enough Jayce," the boy said

"Iz is right we don't need a lesson in demonology," said the other girl.

Ah, the boy is Iz and the other girl is Alec, strange he thought.

So Valentine was a someone.

The blonde lifted her blade and was about to kill the girl and Clar jumped out at that moment and yelled "Stop! You can't just kill someone!"

The blonde girl looked startled, all of them did.

"What's this?" Said Alec

"It's a boy," Jayce said with her composure back. "Your brother Iz is one, surely you've seen them before."

She walked towards Clar and looked at him, she had a wild wicked look he thought, something beautiful and terrifying, like she wasn't of this world. He wanted to paint her.

At that moment the demon got loose and attacked Jayce.

______

Jayce looked into this boy's eyes and the way he looked at her made her feel like she was transparent, like she was glass.

She would have stared longer if not for the fact that the demon had attacked her and she was slightly injured.

She fought it off after she wasn't shocked anymore, she never got distracted like this.

After they killed the demon, Iz had apparently had attacked the boy and Jayce told him to let the boy go, but she said it softly and gently and she hadn't used that voice in so long.

And this boy reminded her of home for a second, but he shouldn't have, she didn't know him and had no idea who he was, but he did and Jayce felt weird.

"You can see us?" Said Jayce, she knew she was stating the obvious.

"Of course I can see you," said the boy, like they had asked a stupid question.

"I'm gonna call the police," he said

"And tell them invisible people are chasing you," she said with her arrogance back in her voice.

"What?" He said

At that moment the brown haired girl with glasses walked in, she must be his friend

"Clar, what are you doing in here?" Asked the girl.

"I-" he looked like he didn't have any words.

So he figured out his friend can't see us she thought to herself.

"Nothing, nothing at all, I must have imagined something," he said

"Let's get you home, Joan is outside on the phone with your mom, she isn't happy," said his friend.

And they left, but he looked back at Jayce with regret.

(This is an au I am working on and hopefully you like, yes it's genderbent tmi but also good Jonathan or Joan, I know it's weird but I am not over them and idk why but I enjoy making content for them and I feel like in another universe these peeps exist.)

Tag list: @khaleesiofalicante @chibi-tsukiko ,, idk if you two want to be tagged in this one cause I know it's different but also @megs-readstoomuch @spotsandclawsthings

[365days365movies]

January 15, 2021: Casino Royale (2006) (Part 1)

So...we meet again, Bond. What’ve you been doing for the past few years?

...What. Not who, James, WHAT. Jeez.

Whatever. BrosBond had 3 movies after GoldenEye, and they were...not great, from what I’ve heard. Remember, I wasn’t as big of a fan of GoldenEye as many critics and fans were; so, I can’t imagine what I’d think of the latter three. Maybe one day, but not today!

Today, I’m focusing my sights on the revitalization of the brand. See, in 2002, Die Another Day came out, and that movie was apparently crazy. TOO crazy. So crazy, in fact, that audiences and critics accused it of losing the plot, and the production studio in charge (Eon Productions) had a yearning to change direction. And their inspiration came from...a surprising place.

See, Joel Schumacher’s campy, over-the-top Batman films were basically wiped out by Christopher Nolan’s 2005 reinvention of the character in Batman Begins. Which is, in my opinion, a highly underrated classic, Seriously. And in 2005, this film was absolutely a smash-hit. Batman was cool again, which a lot of people never thought would happen in film. Eon saw this, and thought...how can we apply that to Bond?

Out with Brosnan...in with Craig.

The first of the new, darker, reinvented Bond films is planned for release in 2006, starring Daniel Craig as the suave, sophisticated spy. And the director of the film was selected to be...Martin Campbell? From GoldenEye? The guy who kinda sorta started the modern over-the-top Bond? Really? I mean, OK. The writers this time are different...except for one. I didn’t talk about the writers last time because I don’t like putting people on blast if I don’t gotta. This time...maybe. We’ll see.

If this Casino Royale is basically Bond Begins, I’m definitely interested. Maybe this’ll revitalize that Bond-love from the Connery days. Let’s find out! We’re also gonna look at the Bond checklist again!

Gadgets: better have more cool gadgets than GoldenEye, I swear...

Bond Girl: GoldenEye’s Natalya wasn’t bad, to be honest; let’s see who his Inevitable Love Interest is this time.

Villain: Alec Trevelyan had so much potential. I need my dastardly villain, let’s do this. Oh, and let’s throw the henchman in here, too. Xenia Onatopp was...a lot...but she was a memorable henchman, at least.

Music: Of course. GoldenEye’s theme was good, and we’ll see how 2006 does.

OK, movie time. SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

We start at an office building in Prague, where a man makes his way up to his office. Waiting there for him is, of course, James Bond (Daniel Craig). The man is Dryden, section chief at the British Embassy in Prague, whom M has accused of selling secrets, a big no-no. But Bond...isn’t a double-0 agent. Huh. You got me interested.

Apparently, agents get the two zeroes once they’ve killed two people on file. James hadn’t killed anyone...until recently. Which is when we get this.

OH SHIT

This is an absolutely BRUTAL fight. It’s not choreographed flashily, it’s not pretty...it’s rough. It’s intense. And it’s...oh my God, wow. Made me feel it. And what’s astonishing is that it’s SO short.

On learning this, Dryden tells him not to worry, the second one is...

...YOU GOT ME. I’M IN FOR THE FUCKIN’ RIDE

HOW??? How is it that in 3 minutes of screentime, I’m already more satisfied by Craig’s Bond than I was for the ENTIRETY of GoldenEye? That is masterfully done, right off the bat. WOW. We even get a smooth-as-silk segue into the classic bullet turret sequence, and that takes us right into the song and opening credits. And...wow.

Here’s the thing about Bond openings, as I mentioned last time: they were all directed by one guy up until GoldenEye, and were basically all silhouetted women with themes and scenes from the movie projected around them. The Brosnan movies followed suit, always having silhouetted women in one way or another. Die Another Day used CGI women and...a really bad Madonna song. It was...it is NOT GOOD, guys. Look it up, it’s the most 2002 thing I’ve ever heard.

But here’s the fin bit about Casino Royale. This is the first Bond movie opening with no women in it. Yeah. It’s the first one. And the song is Chris Cornell’s You Know My Name, and it’s good! Not sure it’s going in my soundtrack, though.

Finally, the opening credits sequence itself: it’s once again Daniel Kleinman doing it, and it’s actually inspired by the first James Bond book Casino Royale, which had already had a TV special and unofficial Bond movie made from it! The cover had a playing card motif, and the opening carries over that motif creatively. I really dig it, if I’m honest! Definitely a welcome break from the 44 years of Bond films preceding it.

Uganda! And we meet the villain of this film: Le Chiffre (Mads Mikkelsen). And GODDAMN if that isn’t a Bond villain! He’s a banker, making a deal with a rebel leader, Steven Obanno (Isaach de Bankole), via their liason Mr. White (Jesper Christiensen). Setting up an attack by supplying Obanno with money, he sells his stocks of a company called Skyfleet, knowing that they’re about to fail.

Meanwhile, a ferret’s fighting an Asian species of cobra. In Madagascar. My zoology senses are EXPLODING, OH my God. So much wrong there. Anyway, there’s a bombmaker in the crowd watching the fight. He’s being tailed by Bond and another agent, Carter, who tips off the guy by being a bad spy. Bond chases him to a construction yard. What now, James?

Awesome. Why is this awesome when I said that the tank was dumb? Because at least it makes sense for a bulldozer to go haywire in a construction yard, just sayin’. Plus, this dude clearly isn’t the best, as he fires on construction workers and cops.

Eventually, this chase sequence brings us to the top of a crane, where this exchange happens.

I, uh...I love this movie already. That’s goddamn great.

The chase scene as a whole is also fantastic, as it continues off the bridge and into an abandoned building, then escalates into the streets, brings in law enforcement, and eventually ends with Bond at an embassy, facing down both the military and the bomb maker. He kills the guy, shoots some gas tanks, grabs the bomb, and then gets the hell out of there.

...Y’know what, that was fucking amazing, but he also almost certainly caused an international incident there. And I should be annoyed about that, but guess what! It makes sense! This is an inexperienced Bond, one who’s JUST been promoted to 00 status as 007, as the prologue explained. So, y’know what? I’m into it!

Cut to a yacht, like you do in a Martin Campbell Bond film. There, we have our villain, Le Chiffre, playing a card game. Also, he weeps blood. Yeah. HE WEEPS BLOOD.

OK, if that isn’t some Bond villain shit, I don’t know WHAT is. He’s also asthmatic, because I love it. I love it so much. He’s a mathematically-brilliant asthmatic that weeps blood. More, please. 

He’s also a person aware of what Bond did at the embassy, as it’s already become an international incident! Thank you for showing consequences, movie! Damn! I love it! This has two additional consequences. One, Le Chiffre notes that the code “Ellipsis” used by the bomber may be soon to expire, indicating a connection between the two. And the second consequence? M’s pissed.

M! DAME JUDI DENCH! One of my favorite things about GoldenEye was bringing in Judi Dench as M, and she made it through the reboot! And she’s still as entertaining as she was before, calling Bond out for his stupidity, and explaining that she misses the Cold War.

In her apartment, M does her normal exposition schtick, and her interactions with Bond are fantastic here. She’s understandably angry at him, and gives him what for, but she’s also clearly impressed that he FIGURED OUT WHERE SHE LIVES, as well as her REAL NAME. Shows her opinion of Bond and aspects of Bond’s character in a single, masterful stroke. 

Well. Goddamn. Done.

The Bahamas! Bond’s here to find Alex Dimitrios (Simon Abkarian), a Greek businessman who’s believed to have a connection with Le Chiffre himself. And, as James Bond is wont to do, he finds him at a party, playing cards. And here’s where the reinvention of Bond comes full circle.

See, Bond’s doing all the typical Bond things, yeah. But there are some differences present here, as well as some neat nuances. Bond isn’t wearing the suit, first of all. He actually hasn’t worn a suit the whole movie, which makes perfect sense for a spy. Suits aren’t exactly the least conspicuous thing in the world; bound to get you noticed if you don’t want to be.

And then, there’s the girl. This is Solange Dimitrios (Catherina Murino), the wife of Alex who was treated BADLY by him at the party. That gives her a reason to take Bond’s offer for a ride to his place, outside of just his raw animalistic charm that he seems to have in some of these movies. Look at that, already more chemistry than he had with Natalya in GoldenEye.

And yes, this results in her cheating on Alex. Is her cheating justified from a moral standpoint? No, of course it isn’t. And of course, this leads to the typical Bond-handsome-sex-GOOD sequence, but again, some nuance here! First of all, he doesn’t win her over with corny clever lines, like what we saw in GoldenEye multiple ties. Second, this is actually all an attempt to get some infomation from her about her husband. Bond might be enjoying it, but his womanizing here actually has a purpose. And that’s rare!

That’s further punctuated by the fact that he STRAIGHT UP LEAVES BEFORE ANYTHING HAPPENS. Yeah, she tells him that Alex just made his way to Miami, and he leaves! Dick move, yeah, but it makes sense! James isn’t here for pleasure, he’s here for work!

He follows Alex to a Bodies at Work exhibit (you know, the preserved and skinned cadavers put into poses that used to tour around the USA? I saw it in Times Square at the end of its popularity. A little ghoulish, maybe, but I think it’s pretty cool), where the two of them get in a very tense close-up knife fight in public.

Alex is dead, but not before passing off a package to someone else at the exhibition. Bond tails the guy to Miami International Airport, where the largest airplane in the world is set to be unveiled. Using the code sent to the bombers, Bond gets into the back, and goes to intercept the disguised bomber who’s set to blow up the SkyChonk (I mean it, that giant airplane is THICCC).

Time for another cool chase sequence! Some luggage is destroyed, along with a bus, the cops join in on the chase, an airplane is prevented from landing (making someone on that plane probably very upset), and Bond somehow manages to prevent the plane from blowing up. And it’s by the SKIN of his teeth, lemme tell you. Also, he blows up a dude with his own flashlight bomb.

Nice. Somehow, Bond isn’t arrested, and makes his way back to the Bahamas. And it looks like Solange isn’t the Bond girl after all. Because she was thought to be the information leak (which she was, to an extent), she was tortured to death. Whoof.

M’s in the Bahamas now, and the exposition continues. She’s done with Bond’s bullshit, and she plants a tracker under his skin. She explains that with the big boi plane destroyed, somebody stood a lot to gain financially from the stock crash to come. Except that the plane wasn’t destroyed, and that person lost $100 million by “betting the wrong way.”

That person, of course, was Le Chiffre, a manthematical genius and chess prodigy, who plays poker for fun, and plays the stock market with his clients’ money. Bond’s the best poker player in MI6 (a good addition that we already saw foreshadowed earlier! See what I mean?), and she’s sending him to a high stakes poker game that Le Chiffre’s looking to regain his money from. 

Bond FINALLY dons his suit, and gets on a train in Montenegro, where he meets...

Vesper Lynd (Eva Green). THERE’S our Bond girl! Although, there’s a reference to Miss Moneypenny in their introduction, which is interesting. But Vesper is an agent for the British Treasury, supplying the money for the buy-in for the tournament. And their conversation on the train...wow. Now THIS is chemistry, seriously.

Vesper’s a great character, and she gives Bond NO quarter. She reads his character, and calls him out very accurately. They also explain why both Bond and Vesper are good at poker: it’s all about reading people. I’m genuinely impressed by how this movie is put together, and how well-thought out Bond is as a character. And this is the dimension I love to see in a Bond girl as well!

GODDAMN, I am in love with this movie. More coming in Part 2!

[thedukeofhastingssexyrobe]

telling people to get over a rape scene 🤡

nat111love

@granolybary ok thank you for this perfect comment !!! You made your point very clear !!!

eveningspirit

I think people don't have a problem with the scene itself, but with how it was later handled by the 21st century writers. As in, ignored at best and empowering for the woman at worst. At least I do. Also. Don't tell people to get over a rape scene.

You have every right to feel whatever emotion you want, so if you want to hate on a character for the next 8 seasons please do, l really mean it.

 l don’t remember saying that people should get over “the rape” so please don’t put those words into my mouth. Maybe l didn’t phrase what l wanted to say correctly, maybe...but l’m sure of one thing, l implied no such thing nor said those words.

We were talking about the second season and people’s expectations.

THIS IS WHAT THAT ANON SAID

I think people are waiting for daphne to bring it up in the new season and apologise which would be nice but I dont actually see it happening. If we are to go from how the last season ended a long time has passed since the incident and they already have a child, so if they were going to talk about what had happened you would imagine this would have happened before the time jump at the end of the episode.

I feel people are going to be disappointed waiting for an apology or conversation about it.

AND THIS IS MY ANSWER TO WHAT ANON SAID 

Simon and daphne won’t talk about what happened in 1x06 that chapter is closed !!! They have moved on and those who hate the dynamic should move on too!!! because we’re going to get a new season which means a new  plotline!! The characters have moved on, the writers have moved on and the audience has moved on too.

The move on  was about some people’s expectations and disappointment and not about what happened in 1x06 between daphne and simon. And yes l know the people hating on the dynamic are part of the audience too but l was talking about the general public audience.

Just wanted to make this clear !!! and please   @granolybary  don’t call people clown over a fictional character, you could’ve said what you had to say respectfully just like @ eveningspirit did.

[robronfic]

Could you pls do a Big Bang fics round up of sorts? Would be so helpful to find them all in one place. Thanks

swings & roundabouts by dvs/@dvswraatins

summary: “life can be unfair, robert. that’s just life though, innit?” aaron said, matter-of-fact, a kind smile on his face. “but…sometimes it can be good too. it can give you things you weren’t even looking for.” 32k. 

[a wonderful and joyous and absolutely brilliant story that will make you feel so much love your heart may be in danger of bursting! you will fall in love with robert and aaron all over again, and twice as hard - oh - and you will adore the very alive sarah! a fic for a rainy day.] 

serve me your black hand by littlelooneyluna/@littlelooneyluna

summary: after a failed attempt at his life by a very much not dead client, hit-man robert sugden is given an uncertified bodyguard to protect him on the job. 37k. 

[you’re not ready for this fic. you’re just not. it’s intense and angsty and compelling and completely worth losing sleep and shedding tears over. but it’s also soft and delicate and loving and everything robron are - i mean, what’s not to love?] 

breath of ember by some_mad_lunge/@some-mad-lunge

summary: in a society where you are defined by your element, aaron dingle has been marked by the rarest of them all: fire. still, he has built a contented life for himself even as he wages a war with the flame within him. that is until robert sugden, a mysterious air, blows into his life and binds them in an attachment unlike anything anyone could have expected.

and like nothing aaron could have ever prepared for. 19k. 

[i’m quite literally still speechless from this fic so finding the words to explain my love for it is proving difficult. but, just…. wow! what a brilliant and unique story! reading this will make you feel like you are aaron and robert and their emotions are yours - that’s how well their feelings are portrayed. just… make sure you have tissues at the ready, okay?] 

aftershocks by illgetmerope/@illgetmerope

summary: aaron is a mutant working undercover for the sugden family as robert’s bodyguard. jack sugden is writing the bill that will inform how the world responds to mutants, and robert is the resistance’s only hope. can aaron convince him to help the cause? 68k.

[an utterly wonderful and unique fic that will make you feel all the emotions you’ve ever felt x1000. look out for the club scene because that will give you all the feels! you can cut the tension with a knife and can feel the chemistry right down to your fingertips. save this fic for when you want your heartbreaking and putting together again.]

secrets kept, secrets told by raelee514/@raelee514

summary: robert and aaron have always had a connection. 74k.

[this fic has everything you could ever wish for - from a whirlwind of angst, to a generous flurry of love n softness and a whole heap of emotions. it’s an impressive 74 thousand words or pure brilliance. if one fic will make you believe in soulmates, this is the one.]

you only live twice by anythingbutplatonic/@robertsvgden

summary: robert sugden is agent 007, living a life of luxury as MI5′s most prestigious and coveted agent. but when his increasingly reckless behaviour threatens to put his job and his title - not to mention his life - at risk, madame secretary is forced to assign him a new assistant to help him toe the line. but aaron dingle is unlike anyone robert has ever worked with before, and the threat he poses to his place at the top of her majesty’s government might just be the one thing that ends up keeping both his feet on solid ground. 33k. wip.

[there’s nothing quite as beautiful as watching a story grow and blossom and unfold right in front of your very eyes, especially a story as beautiful and brilliant as this one. it’s intense and intimate, yet tender and warm - aka everything you could ever wish for. lorna has created the most fascinating and captivating world here, and i guarantee you’ll be checking ao3 each day for updates!]

love, aaron by dingletragedy/@dingletragedy

summary: sometimes i feel like I’m stuck on a ferris wheel. one minute i’m on top of the world, then the next I’m at rock bottom. for the most part, i’m you typical 19 year old boy. i have a less than normal family, spend my weekends watching footie and drinking more than i can handle, and can’t wait to finally escape this damn college. but i have one huge secret. nobody knows i’m bisexual. sometimes I wonder if I really am all alone in this, or if there’s others out there who feel the same, trying to get by being half of the whole they know they could be. red.- or: a love, simon au with a twist. 43k. 

[this one is kinda alright. i suppose. maybe. maybe not. idk. don’t ask me.]

heaven is a place on earth by sugdingles/@sugdingles

summary: aaron meets robert in san junipero in 1987. how will their relationship progress and is everything really as it seems? black mirror au. 20k.

[a brilliant and imaginative story that will leave your heart aching in the best way possible!!! it’s magical and unique and so, so amazing. it’s just… all the emotions! one hundred percent the kind of fic that’d you want to stay awake until 4 am reading - and you will not regret it one bit!] 

run over by robronsnuggles/@robronsnuggles

summary: robert sugden has reached a high point in his life. born rich beyond his wildest dreams, owns a successful business, engaged to a beautiful woman, everything is just perfect for him, and yet something is just off. what he doesn’t expect is for his life to take a turn for the worse and with a car accident and just a few words from a certain handyman, his life turns upside down.

“i can’t believe he doesn’t remember me. everything’s gonna be ok. now.... i am your husband. my name is aaron dingle”. 23k. wip.

[i mean, who doesn't love an amnesia fic - especially one with so many twists and turns that you’ll find yourself gasping and begging for more! another fantastic work in progress that we’re lucky enough to get to watch grow and blossom and unravel - how exciting is that? such a brilliant and captivating story - you’ll be bookmarking this one!] 

worse than strangers by escapingreality51/ @escapingreality51

summary: as a young businessman, robert sugden meets and falls in love with aaron dingle, a young, passionate rugby-hopeful. however, when aaron wants to make their relationship public, robert freaks out and breaks up with him. robert has been buried in his work and his family life for the past five years, focusing all his energy on work after never truly recovering from his loss. when aaron returns to emmerdale unexpectedly he is a changed man; rich, famous, and he has not forgiven robert for what happened. will robert and aaron find each other again with five years and so much pain between them? 27k. 

[everyone’s favourite jane austen book combined with everyone's favourite yorkshire soap couple, wrote by one of the most talented writers around - pure perfection! this story is intense and brilliant and gorgeous! another one that will break your heart and then put it back together twice as full!] 

[notfckincool]

DIRTY GIRL

-DIRTY LITTLE SECRET

NEGAN X ANA (OC)

A collection of short smutty stories. Strong sexual content.

Ana embarks on a casual but obviously filthy affair with Negan, accidentally falling for the man, knowing he will never love her. Angst and Kinky fuckery.

It's Negan so expect swearing, violence and sexual content throughout.

DIRTY LITTLE SECRET

Negan x Ana (OC)

Ana and Negan have come to a secret arrangement.

Warnings dirty talk, Public mutual masturbation, fingering, spanking, oral, orgasm denial, butt stuff

Look at him, just look at him. I can't help but stare as Negan swaggers past, Lucille nestled casually on his broad shoulder. I have a head full of dirty thoughts.. again. I want to be where she is, my lips and tongue trailing over his tan skin, my teeth nipping and teasing as I press our hot naked bodies together... My eyes drift over his neck, linger on that protruding Adams apple, up over his salt and pepper beard. I want to lick those fucking dimples, taste his lips one more time. I want to...

"You OK?"

Lily's voice, suddenly at my side tears me rudely away from my fantasy.

"You were in a world of your own then" she chuckles

"Yeah, just going over a few things in my head" I glance away smiling to myself.

Better concentrate. We're on official Savior business at the Hilltop and I have work to do. I love to watch him though, keeping everyone in order, getting shit done. My super hot Alpha male. Well, not really mine, but at least I sometimes get him to myself when we're away from the Sanctuary.

Ana and Negan's dirty little secret. 

Rules are rules, Savior or wife, but we made our own arrangement. I know, I know, he's the boss, he does what, and who, he wants. He doesn't give a fuck if people know who he's fucking, but I like to think it's for me, to make my life easier as a Savior, and to gain the respect as one of his best soldiers that I would never have had as just one of his wives. Plus, I love the element of danger. I get turned on by the public flirting and dirty talk, the snatched quick fucks in the back of a truck, an empty building or against a tree. The risk of getting caught in the middle of raw, passionate, animalistic sex excites me,.. and it feels illicit while the wives wait at home. He's addictive, and I always want more.

Throughout the day he catches me watching him, his dark eyes meeting mine with an unnerving intensity, before giving me his trademark smirk.

Later, during a meeting with his top guys, he stands behind me, resting his hand casually on my shoulder. As he gives out instructions his thumb secretly caresses the exposed skin on the back of my neck. My whole body tingles at his slightest touch and I struggle to maintain my composure. He enjoys the slow torture and continues his monologue, The Saviors listening intently, blissfully unaware as I silently squirm.

The meeting concludes and they start to disperse. As we watch them leave, his grip tightens to a gentle squeeze of my neck. My body reacts, I can't stop myself, and I roll my hips, subtly grinding my ass against him, smiling triumphantly as I feel him twitch against me, before I turn and walk away.

I love my job but the day is dragging on with him constantly on my mind. My thoughts invaded by images of him, of his scent, and the feel and taste of him. My imagination is running riot, my panties becoming uncomfortably wet.

I admire him as he directs Saviors and Hilltop residents, all nodding obediently before scurrying away. As he stands alone surveying his surroundings I take the opportunity to approach him.

"May I speak with you a moment" I call as I saunter over.

He turns and watches me, a small smile playing on his lips

"What do you need Ana" he smirks, looking down at me as I stand before him.

"I just wanted to say.. "

I look up at him looming over me and lean in towards his ear, lowering my voice to little more than a whisper as I slide my hand into his trouser pocket.

".. that I love watching you work.. "

A rub of my hand on his thigh, a slight brush against his balls makes him bite at his lip.

".. the way you take charge, always in control..." His eyes narrow, his smirk widens

"mmm.. Makes me all... wet"

His tongue slides out between his teeth and he opens his mouth to speak, only to be cut short by Simon striding quickly towards us. He withdraws my hand from his pocket with a frown, I look down at my feet concealing my disappointment.

"We'll continue this talk later Ana" he says, turning to address Simon.

Thanks Simon. I nod and walk away to continue with my duties, occasionally stealing a glance in his direction as he talks. I'm entranced by his mannerisms, his confident posture, the authority he exudes. I think about his lips on me, the way my body responds to his touch, the need to feel him inside me. I need to stay focused but it's all I can think about, a desperate heat building inside me.

The conversation ends and suddenly he's heading towards me, passing behind me, adding fuel to the fire growing deep in my stomach when he gives my ass a cheeky squeeze and leans in to me

"Can't wait to eat that ass later" he growls in my ear before chuckling and walking away.

How the fuck am I supposed to work now? The things this man does to me. I visualise his mouth on me. I'm struggling to hold it together, trying to look normal and busy and not in a blissful sexual fantasy world. Time slowly ticks by and my need for him increases with every passing minute.

"Ana"

I get a rush of excitement as I hear him call and look up to see him beckoning me with his fingers. I try to disguise it as I walk coolly towards the man who fills my mind with wicked thoughts. I notice Simon glaring disapprovingly as we move towards the Mansion, I swear I see him shaking his head. Hands on hips he turns away.

"Ana... " Negan's voice is low as he stares down at me and leans into the wall.

"... Have you done everything I asked you to do?"

"Almost" I smile, gazing up at him "I'm having trouble concentrating though" my hands move to his belt

"Get it done." he says firmly moving my hands away. "Then," he adds "maybe you can have your reward" his tongue sneaks out onto his bottom lip

"You are such a fuckin tease." I chuckle looking down at my feet

Putting his fingers under my chin he raises my head, his eyes meeting mine.

"Yeah, I am" he grins "cos I know what my dirty girl wants." He runs his tongue across his bottom lip as he observes me. "Do as I tell you, and If you behave," he moves in closer "I'm gonna fuck you deep, and hard, and rough, just how you fuckin like it"

Jesus fucking christ! My stomach tightens, I visibly quiver. He enjoys doing this to me, teasing me, making me wait.

"I want you right now" I bite on my lip, grab back hold of his belt, hooking my fingers inside the top of his waistband.

"Darlin, the Sanctuary doesn't run its fuckin self. We finish here, then we fuck. "

"I can't stop thinking about you." I continue, my eyes travel over his strong features settling on his lips. " I really want to kiss you" I move closer to him. He tilts his head back, away from my advances, his gloved hand presses on my lips.

"You know the rules" he looks stern "If you're not my wife, we don't kiss"

His hand lingers on my lips a while before sliding down to my throat, the cool leather caresses my skin as he strokes his thumb across my jaw.

"Ugh." I complain, inhaling deeply " I just can't get enough of you"

"We're fucking like rabbits!...Girl you're insatiable" he smirks shaking his head. ".. But we have fuckin work to do, you know that comes first" he glances back and I see Simon glaring over at us.

I ignore Simon's stare and the people milling around and stroke the skin just inside his waistband

"Ana, we gotta keep our shit together." he warns

"I just want to feel you.. " I glance down at his belt, unfastening the buckle before looking back up at him from under my lashes ".. feel your big cock in my hand."

He shifts slightly, his eyes not leaving mine.

"You'd like that huh? Here in front of everybody? You are a fuckin dirty girl, but rules are fuckin rules"

"but...." I pout

As the hustle and bustle of the Savior exchange goes on around us I slide my hand into the front of my own jeans. His eyes lower to watch me. Running my hand over my wet folds, gliding my fingers up and down, my eyes close and a small moan escapes my lips.

"..... I'm so wet"

"Ana" His voice is deep and low and I open my eyes to see him looking at me darkly "Behave yourself, or I will have to punish you"

"I was hoping you would" I retort

I remove my hand. My fingers lightly touch the lips I long to kiss, leaving a glistening trail before sliding into his jeans, wetting his hardening cock with my arousal . He licks his lips and groans as I stroke his length and rub my thumb across his swelling tip.

"I want you so bad." I continue, my thumb circles around him

" I just want to feel you inside me" I say softly into his ear.

"I want to taste you." looking up at him with lustful eyes "I want you to taste me".

His eyes bore into me as he removes his glove, his hand moving to my jeans, slipping inside, touching me lightly over the fabric of my panties, before pulling them to the side and plunging his fingers inside me. I inhale sharply at the suddenness, tightening around his fingers

"Fuck girl, you are soaked" he moves his fingers slowly in and out "but you are gonna have to wait, I have important shit to do" he smirks as he curls his fingers upwards.

I stifle a loud moan grinding towards him as my need intensifies, pumping slowly on his growing cock

"I can't wait. I want you to fuck me Negan." I pant a little as he works his fingers inside me. "Fuck me on Gregory's highly polished ornate desk." I smile wickedly. "Fuck me hard until I scream your name. I don't even care if everyone hears"

His breathing quickens as he removes his fingers, looking at me as he slowly puts them in his mouth, tasting me.

"mmm.. You are a bad fucking girl, I may have to put you over my knee, spank that sweet ass, teach you a fuckin lesson"

"I would enjoy that... sir" I smile teasingly

Without breaking eye contact I take his hand in mine, leading his slicked fingers to my lips, running my tongue up them, taking them inside my mouth and sucking on them. His eyes darken.

"Fuck, Ana." he growls "I fuckin warned you"

Removing my other hand from his jeans he fastens the buckle, takes me by the elbow, and marches me inside the mansion.

As we burst through the office doors Gregory jumps at the intrusion. The Hilltop leader tries to assert himself and sits proudly at his desk.

"OUT" Negan motions with his thumb towards the door

"I.. I.. I have some things I need to finish first." He stammers. He shuffles his papers importantly and averts his eyes down to the shiny wood, swallowing audibly

"Gregory. Get the fuck out. NOW"

The demoralised man quickly stumbles from his chair, hastily leaving the room, avoiding eye contact. Negan shuts the doors behind him, grabbing me by the wrist and leading me over to the desk.

He looks sternly down at me as he unfastens my jeans. Roughly he pulls them down to my knees and tugs down my panties. Pulling out Gregory's carved wood chair he sits himself down and pulls me firmly across his lap.

"Why must you constantly break the fucking rules?"

His voice authorative, he brings a hand down onto my ass cheek with a firm slap. It stings. I inhale sharply.

"I warned you. If you break the rules you have to be punished"

Another slap to the same spot, my skin begins to warm and burn.

"The rules are for EVERYONE" he emphasises

The third strike is harder. I flinch and yelp and wriggle as the burning intensifies.

"Keep still." he orders, though his voice is calm as he holds me tightly on his lap, rubbing at my ass which is now hot and sore. I don't know how many he plans on giving me, how much longer this will go on. I fight the urge to move against him.

"YOU are a bad. Fuckin. Girl. You need to be taught a lesson"

A fourth makes my eyes water, I bite my lip instinctively as I try not to call out. He's right. I am. Always pushing the boundaries, always getting myself into trouble.

"One more for your disobedience. Ana, you have to learn some self control."

A long pause makes the seconds feel like minutes.

I wait, anticipating the sweet sting and burn. The throbbing pain only adds to my pleasure. I ache for him. My stomach is tightening, my senses heightened, my arousal pooling, and I struggle to keep still, grateful for his powerful hold on me.

At last he delivers the last spank. I cry out. The sound of my voice and the slap of his hand reverberates around the elegant room. There's a moment of still silence as I blink back the small tear forming at the corner of my eye. With an uncharacteristic light touch, he gently massages my tender skin, his voice softening.

"I will help you learn"

His hand slowly moves down, hovering above my folds

"Teach you to be patient"

His fingers linger across my skin, ghost over my dripping entrance.

"Would you like that? Will you try to be my good girl?"

Desperate for some kind of friction I nod enthusiastically.

"I'm gonna need to hear an answer" I can feel him smirking down at me

"Yes" I whimper

He lets out a low groan as his fingers finally dip inbetween my folds, sliding tantalisingly slowly up and down, brushing almost against my clit, teasing my entrance. I quiver, say nothing, deny my urges, stay as still as possible. I'm rewarded with two fingers gradually pushing inside, pumping deliberately slowly.

"You need to understand who is in charge here" he says softly as his fingers withdraw and move towards my clit, circling gently.

"Do you understand?"

"Mhm" I mumble through a clenched jaw

"Good girl" he praises as his coated fingers slide up past my entrance towards my ass, stroking over the hole. He circles and teases the tight entrance before his wet hand moves across my sore cheeks, cooling and soothing them. He chuckles to himself as he continues toying with me, spreading my arousal, teasing my clit and my ass. I feel him hardening, pressing against me. I fight the overwhelming urge to push onto his fingers, to ask him, no beg him, to fuck me. I begin to shudder as a climax builds.

I'm confused, frustrated and lightheaded when suddenly he stops, denying me my release, and pulls me carefully to standing, lifting my shirt up over my head and casting it aside.  He says nothing as he bends to removes my boots, takes his time peeling my jeans and panties painstakingly slowly down my legs and holds my hand as I step out of them. Finally he turns me towards the desk, guiding my head down until my face touches the polished wood.

I glance backwards to see him sitting back in his chair admiring the view before moving my legs further apart and leaning forwards.

I feel his hot breath against my wet folds, the scratch of his beard as his lips move over my thighs, the nip of his teeth as they lightly nibble at my skin. He pauses. I moan softly.

"Patience darling"

The tip of his tongue presses at my entrance, sliding in just a little, withdrawing, then inserting a little more. I whimper. Unexpectedly he licks a long firm stroke up to my asshole. My fingers scratch at the table in search of something to grip as his tongue is circling and teasing. Back and forth he goes, a hot wet trail between my ass and pussy, teasing my clit, dipping his tongue a little further every time. His fingers slide inside me again, pump and scissor, withdraw and rub at my clit, as his tongue continues exploring me. The assault on my senses starts an uncontrollable heat building, my breathing quickens, my moans grow louder.

Abruptly he stops.

"What the fuck?" I whisper to myself as the heat rapidly dissipates yet again, leaving me quivering. Looking over my shoulder I see him leaning back into the chair, wearing a smug satisfied expression.

"I'm not done punishing you yet." he smiles stroking down his beard, wiping my juice from his mouth and chin, licking down his palm and fingers. "Turn around"

Pushing myself up I turn to face him, the heat subsiding but my desire increasing. I lean back onto the desk.

"I need you to fuck me Negan" I say defiantly, "Eat me. Then fuck me" I add breathlessly

Linking his hands together he chuckles as he rests them on his chin ignoring my demands.

"Sit"

He has me wrapped around his finger. I want him so bad I have little choice. I obey. Pulling myself up onto the desk, wincing slightly, I place my feet on his thighs.

He smiles, putting his hands on my knees, parting my legs, placing my feet on the arms of the decorative chair.

Leaning forwards he slides his hands up my quivering thighs as he moves in closer. He hovers above my hot wet core, his beard tickling and scratching at the sensitive skin. This slow torment, his lesson in patience is becoming unbearable.

I look down at him, his beautiful face between my legs. I can no longer control myself, grasping him tightly by the hair and pulling his face towards my aching pussy.

He plunges at me, I watch his tongue lapping, circling, stroking and flicking, his soft wet lips kissing and sucking. Almost immediately the burning deep inside reignites, the heat radiating outwards through my body. Gripping tightly at his hair I hold him to me as I begin to shake.

"Not yet" he stops and smiles "You cum when I say" his deep voice humming and vibrating against me "Have you forgotten who's in charge?

"please" I beg. I hear the sound of his buckle unfastening.

"Can you be a good girl for me? " he looks up at me, a finger dips into my wetness and circles my ass.

"Yes." I plead my breathing becoming erratic

"Will you follow the rules I give you?" he applies more pressure, I'm desperate, I surrender to him

"Yes. I will. Please"

"That's my good girl. You can cum now"

His fingers dive back into me, pumping and curling, another slides into my ass as he expertly sucks and circles my clit. My senses are overwhelmed, the fire inside finally exploding, sending shock waves through me. My eyes and head roll back, I convulse uncontrollably.

Shuddering and shaking he pushes me back onto the desk, Gregory's papers and antique possessions flying off and tumbling to the floor as he quickly thrusts himself into me, taking my breath away, fucking me through my climax.

He lifts my legs up onto his shoulders, pinning me to the desk, filling me up, hitting me deep inside, pain and pleasure combining as I ride the wave still rippling through me.

The sound of his grunts and groans mingle with my own, escalating as he ploughs into me harder, fucking me at a relentless pace. The historical desk rocks beneath us. The old men in gilded frames look on.

"oh God.. Negan"

Hard and deep, over and over

"Don't stop.. Oh fuck"

"Fuck." His jaw clenches

"I'm gonna cum... Fuck, Ana"

Withdrawing with a loud groan he shakes and stills, spilling his release in powerful spurts across my stomach.

"Fuck.... Ana"

His head thrown back he pants and waits for the high to subside, before breathlessly looking down watching the last ropes of his release.

"Was you imagining something like that? "

Still panting I nod and shrug before smiling innocently back up at him

"Yeah something like that"

He chuckles and pulls his towering frame up to standing, tucking himself away, offering me his hand and one of Gregory's papers to wipe myself with.

"So have you learnt your lesson?"

He fastens his belt and zips up his jacket.

"Probably not" I grin tossing the paper aside. "I enjoyed your punishment. Also I screamed your name pretty loud so I don't think it's much of a secret anymore"

His eyes narrow a moment, eyebrows furrowed into a frown. Shaking his head he picks up my panties and heads to the door.

"You are a bad girl"

"You wouldn't want me any other way" I smile

He smirks at me, tucking my panties into his jacket pocket as he walks out the door. 

DIRTY GIRL MASTERLIST

[emisonme]

How shit works.........

OK Guys, let me explain how all this shit REALLY works. When you make the choice to sign a contract with a Record Label, you usually know you are signing away some of your rights, from creative control to image control. Why? Because, once you sign a recording contract, with a Label, you become a Brand. You become the Brand that produces the product, the record Label has agreed to invest in and market.

To market and sell your music, people will mold your PUBLIC image, to your managed Brand, and market you and your music to the demographic, that will consume your brand and genre of music.

The professional team, you hire, Manager, Agent, PR team, etc, are the ones that manage your Brand. They, in conjunction with the marketing and A&R departments of the Labels, will mold your PUBLIC image, that will capture the interest and imagination, of the demographic they will market your product to.

Now, let’s talk about the contracts. First, there isn’t a contract out there, that can’t be re-negotiated, if you have the knowledge, and a good Attorney willing to advocate for you. In fact, with contracts where the albums are optioned, it is general practice for there to be a re-negotiation with each option. Of course, if you don’t have that knowledge, and your management and attorney are advocating for the label, then you are stuck with the contract you signed, originally.

On to the legality of contracts. Not all contracts are legally binding. As I’ve stated before, a minor can’t sign a legal binding contract, even with the consent of the parent. A child can not sign away their legal rights, and a parent can’t sign their child’s legal right’s away.

When a minor signs a contract, it’s what’s called a “voidable” contract. It’s up to the minor, to honor the contract or not. But, there is a caveat. The minor can only opt out of the contract, while still a minor. Once the minor reaches 18, adulthood, it becomes a legal binding contract, and they are legally bound to abide by it.

So, with all the Astroturfers out there trying to convince you that Camila, or any of the girls, had to re-negotiate their contracts when they turned 18, just know they are blowing smoke up your ass. That’s why THEY waited until after June of 2015, to start derailing the 5H train.

Dinah Jane’s 18th birthday, was June 22, 2015. She was the last member of the group, to become an adult. They had to wait, until they were all legally bound to their contracts, to really start implementing the plan. They couldn’t have allowed Camila to release a solo project, and tell the other girls NO, while one of them still had a voidable contract.

That’s why things seemed more happy and free within the group, in 2013, 2014, and part of 2015, because there was still the potential of one of the girls bolting. The worse part, for the Labels, was they could have bolted free and clear. They would not have had to utilize the “Leaving Member Clause”, and they could not have been taken to court for breach of contract. The Labels and Management, had to be a little more lenient, until all the girls were legally bound by their contracts.

What makes a contract legally binding? You have to be 18 or over, you have to be of sound mind, and you have to be a willing participant. You can not form a binding contract, for illegal activities, or through illegal means. (Examples: you can’t contract a drug deal...You can’t force someone to sign a contract, through coercion or blackmail, for those are illegal activities.) It is also ill-advised to give someone an ultimatum, to force them to sign. If you can prove, you were put under “duress” to sign, it will be deemed a void contract.

Of course, the Music Industry uses these illegal means of keeping their artists under control, all the damn time. It’s up to the artist to decide, if what THEY are using against them is worth it, if they want to pursue legal action, or not. That’s one of the reasons why in most, if not all Entertainment Industry contracts, there is a stipulation included, that if you want to fight something or think you have been wronged, you have to go through arbitration instead of litigation . Arbitration is conducted in private, and results can be kept confidential. This is more for the benefit of the Big wigs, than the artists, because we all know when the Industry wants the public to know something, they have no problem “leaking” it. If the Industry wants the public to think something, they have no problem faking shit and "leaking" it.

The next question is, how does all this pertain to PR contracts? You CAN NOT force someone to sign a PR contract. You can NOT force someone to have ANY intimate relations, of any kind, through a contract. That would be, at best harassment or prostitution, at worst assault or rape, ALL ILLEGAL ACTS.

So, how do the Labels or their Managers get Artists to willingly conduct PR stunts, or Agree to sign PR contracts? One of the reasons a celebrity will contract a "public relationships" is so they can keep their private life private. Usually, it is their Manager or A&R who convinces them, this is the best way to handle the situation. There is also, the well known "beards" to hide a celebrities sexuality. A celebrity is convinced, and or manipulated, into thinking a "beard" is the best way to go, to hide their sexuality...Of course, they are also manipulated into thinking, if they are Gay, they better keep their mouths shut. If they are attracted to all genders, that's better. You can come out, you just have to PR up with the opposite sex.

The media sees a private celebrity, as a prime target. If you are keeping everything private, you must have something to hide, therefore, the paps and media will try and discover your secret. If you want to keep your private life private, you give them something else to focus on.

The Paps and the Media, are like a dog. If you give a dog a bone, they are happy. They don't give a shit if it's a fake bone, or a real bone, just as long as it's a bone. The Media don't care if the "relationship" is fake or not, just give them something to photograph, report on, gossip about, and they are happy. If a celebrity goes out of their way, to avoid the media/paps, they will hound your ass until you give them something, or they get something you don't want them to have.

When a celebrity needs to get media attention, for whatever reason, be it a product they are trying to sell, or just to gain some notoriety, they are convinced/manipulated into thinking a PR relationship, again, is the best way to go. Why? Because in actuality, IT IS. Like I've said before, the media will report on a relationship, before they will report on a single/album. They are more than happy, to report on your project after they  gossip about your "private life".

If you have a manager, that has your best interest at heart, they will help you conduct these damn PR stunts in a way that is less stressful on you, and your private life. I've already discussed the types of PR relationship contracts, in a previous post, so not going to rehash that.

So, knowing all that, how were the labels and management able to have so much control over Fifth Harmony? The answer is quite simple. Simon Cowell, and Syco/Sony owned Fifth Harmony. He manufactured the group. He owned the rights to the girls images and the group, through their X-Factor contracts. He owned the Fifth Harmony Brand, and the Trademark. What Simon/Syco/Sony wanted from 5H, they got from 5H. Period!

How was Simon/Syco/Sony able to get 5H management to go along with their plan, and NOT have the girls best interest at heart, like a good manager is supposed to do? That's simple, as well. Syco/Sony made a deal with Front Line Management in 2011, to manage some/all of the X-Factor USA's finalists. Front Line Management was run by Irving Azoff, and two of the managers working with them, was Jared Paul and Janelle Lopez.

So yes, Simon chose 5H's management for them, from the start. They made a deal of who would manage them, and how they would be managed... Unfortunately, the girls had to pay the bastards 15/20% of their earnings, to do the Labels bidding.

In mid 2014, Jared Paul ventured out on his own, bringing Janelle Lopez with him. This is when he created Faculty Productions. How did JP keep the girls as clients? JP was a partner in AGP (Azoff, Geary, Paul) Management. AGP was a division of Front Line Management Group. When JP ventured off on his own, he got to take his clients with him.

It wasn't as simple as just taking them from Front line/AGP to Faculty, though. New company, new contract. JP had to re-sign Fifth Harmony to his new company, Faculty. Since the 5H Partnership was formed by then, this contract would have been negotiated and signed between Faculty and the 5H Partnership.

Fifth Harmony's attorney, didn't exactly have their best interest at heart either. Eric Greenspan was the groups attorney, through the release of their Reflection Album. Eric Greenspan's law firm had a deal with X-Factor, to represent ALL X-Factor contestants.

So, it's pretty easy to see, how the deck was stacked against the girls, from the start. They had absolutely NO ONE from the Music Industry, or associated with the Music Industry, on their side. Everything was arranged, to be most advantageous for Simon/Syco/Sony.

[voicesfromthelight]

Getting The Wires Crossed - A Potential Pitfall to Watch Out for in Mediumistic Group Settings

Today, I’d like to discuss an issue that has cropped up for me, once in a while, in the process of learning evidential mediumship in a group setting. Namely, I am speaking of the kind of confusion that can happen when we receive mediumistic information that is genuine and accurate, but, because of the presence of many different energies in the room, fail to recognize the correct recipient of it, sometimes even mistaking messages meant for ourselves, for ones meant for others. I call it “getting the wires crossed.” 

As I’ve mentioned before in my posts, although my connection with my spirit guides is strong, and my readings rely almost completely on their channeled communications, as a medium passing on messages between the living and the dead, I am still a work in progress. Getting the wires crossed is one challenge I have faced in my learning process. I haven’t yet figured out how to resolve this issue, and suspect it is something that mediums grow out of over time, but perhaps being aware that things like this can happen can help all of us catch little mixups like them more consistently. (It can also make for some funny stories, so, why not take this opportunity to share some of them?) I was reminded of this phenomenon last night, at a tango event, when a detail that had come through in a group setting suddenly turned out to be relevant not to a person at that circle, but to myself.

Two days earlier, after a long hiatus from participating in mediumistic message circles, I had attended one organized by The Holistic Studies Institute. This was somewhat outside of my comfort zone, as most of my readings are currently channeled at a distance, and not the result of real-time mediumship. I was excited to get back to honing my skills.

After the initial prayer and meditation, I eased into tuning into the group energy, and then turned my attention to each person in the circle. As the leaders of the circle passed on their first message to a woman sitting across from me, I saw, in my mind’s eye, the Italian island of Sicily. Knowing how clairvoyant symbolism had been working for me, lately, I understood this to either be a literal image of Sicily, or a symbol for the name Cecily (or, at the limit, Cecilia.) I would have to wait until later to confirm the relevance of this communication, as only the leaders were passing on messages during the circle itself.

As the session progressed, I began to receive more impressions of the attendants. One man received a message from one of the leaders of the circle that he would be traveling to Greece next year, and for a moment, I second-guessed myself, thinking that maybe the impression I had gotten of an island in Southern Europe was actually coming from him. Then, looking at a young woman sitting by a window, I saw a flash of silver around her throat, and a symbol of twins above her. I heard a snippet of a name that sounded like Kia, Kyle or Kai. Finally, I saw the Golden Gate Bridge - a symbol for San Francisco. There was an exceptional feeling of urgency to what I knew I needed to tell her: To pursue public speaking, and use her power of communication to align with her highest purpose - to inspire others and make the world a better place.

At the end of the circle, I went over to the young woman, and passed on what I had received. While the name didn’t have a current association with her, it turned out that the symbol of twins was a strongly evidential detail within the context of her family history. The city of San Francisco and the message about public speaking were both relevant, as well. We both felt exhilarated by the exchange, and I felt confident enough to go to the first woman to receive a message that evening, and pass on my impression of Sicily - or Cecily, as the case may have been. My communication was met with a blank stare. “OK,” I thought. That detail might only reveal its relevance later. My job was merely to pass it on. Still, I had hoped for confirmation, so,  I walked away wondering if my imagination had run away with me.

Two nights later - last night - at one of the many Argentine tango events I attend, a lovely woman asked me to dance. (In the New York milonga scene, especially in recent years, it has become more and more common for people to break out of the traditional gender roles that have held such strong sway over the tango world in the past.) I had danced with her once before, earlier in the summer, but couldn’t remember her name, so, after our tanda, I asked her to remind me. “I’m Cecily,” she said.

This wasn’t the first time this had happened. In my last post on The Macarena Incident, you may recall that while meditating on the energies of people surrounding me on the subway, I received the name “Carmen,” thinking it was associated with the man standing next to me. Instead, it turned out to be relevant to my own experience later that evening. As I made my way home last night, I was reminded of other, uncanny incidents of a similar nature. I realized that this has become a bit of a pattern for me in group settings.

Last spring, at a mediumship circle, while meditating, I received very clear impressions of two spirits - a stocky, rustically dressed man named Simon, and a slender woman with brown hair named Millicent. Not recognizing them from my own life, and thinking they were at the circle for someone else, I diligently jotted down all the details, waiting for the circle to open up for attendants to speak up. Lo and behold, when it was my turn to receive my message from the leader of the circle, he described the exact spirits I had picked up on, down to names. As it turned out, the two strangers were there for me. (The story of how Simon and “Millie” proceeded to hang around me for the next few days after crashing that party is the subject of a whole other, weird post.)

One of these kinds of incidents was especially memorable, and a great example of just how easy it can be to miss the obvious when we are caught up in the moment during a reading.

A while ago, right before my guides prompted me to start giving channeled readings professionally, I attended a message circle started by another local medium. We’ll call her Anne. It was a new group, and only Anne, myself, and one other person were in attendance. (That other person would become my first client.) Anne was eager to teach us the process of evidential mediumship, and encouraged us to trust in the impressions we were receiving. She asked me to read her. 

As I tuned into Anne’s energy, I heard the name “Sofia,” and soon, a woman with short, wavy brown hair, dressed in a fancy dress, kind of like one an opera singer would wear to a concert, appeared in my inner eye. What I was seeing, in fact, was my grandmother as a young woman. I assumed that the person coming through for Anne must have looked a lot like her, and my grandmother was appearing as a clairvoyant symbol. As I described what I was seeing, Anne recognized her aunt. The name I had received was not her aunt’s name, however, so I chalked up my error to beginner’s bumbling.

The next day, I spoke to Anne over the phone. In the context of an unrelated conversation, seemingly not remembering the name I had brought through, she mentioned that she had been woken up the previous night by a spirit loudly announcing herself as Sofia, declaring herself to be Anne’s new spirit guide. “Do you think she might be Sofia, the goddess of wisdom?” Anne wondered.

After my phone call with Anne, I went to do my daily channeling session. During it, Salvador casually informed me that Sofia was a departed soul who had been drawn to the circle because of an association with “someone else” who was present, and had decided to become Anne’s spirit guide on the spot.

Then, it hit me, and I burst out laughing. I couldn’t believe it had taken me so long to realize what was going on.

My grandmother’s birth name was Sofia.

I had always known my grandmother by the Finnish version of her name she adopted in early adulthood - Sohvi. It was plain to see now that either she had been inspired to take on a new hobby as spirit guide to Anne - whose colorful personality in many ways reminded me of her - or, simply put, she was messing with her.

I sheepishly messaged Anne to inform her that most likely, her newly-minted spirit guide was not the ancient goddess of wisdom, but a mischievous matriarch from the family of Yours Truly. Should she choose to work with her nonetheless, they had my blessing. I thought they would get along just great. In fact, my “Sohvi-mummi” is most probably the person, if any such exists, from whom I inherited my psychic tendencies. It made perfect sense.

I told my mother about this incident, who in turn, told my uncle. My uncle took it in stride, saying that a few days after her death, when he had called her old home number, my grandmother had answered the phone with her maiden name, in the voice of a little girl. (She was deeply disoriented about time towards the end of her life, waking up in her nursing home to agitated thoughts of having forgotten to take the cows to pasture - something she had not done for over 70 years.) It seemed my grandmother had a history of being skilled in inter-dimensional communication.

I don’t think I am the only person studying psychic development or mediumship to whom this kind of thing happens. It’s an interesting phenomenon, and can lead to some very funny situations, as you can see. However, in the long-term, it is definitely in the best interest of everyone concerned to figure out when one’s energetic wires are getting crossed, and, failing that, maybe limit one’s reading practice to private, one-on-one sessions. Often, the simplest solution to these kinds of issues is simply to ask: “Who is this for? Is this for me? Is this for so-and-so?” Alas, so far, my experience has been that this doesn’t always work. So, has this ever happened to you? If so, have you figured out how to plan for such incidents and clear up the confusion? Let me know!

P.S. Since first posting this piece, Salvador has weighed in on how to beat this issue. Here is what he said.

[iamstillalarrie]

Imagine:

One day you wake up from sleep and go on Tumblr. You see that your dashboard is freaking out and you are confused. Everybody is screaming "omg!" or "they did THAT™" or "fucking finally" and you are scrolling and scrolling but you don't see what is going on. You ask yourself "What 1D Drama has happened now? Who bashed who? Why is everyone so happy?" You ask your chosen blog in the ask box and they reply with an article link. You open the article link and can't believe what you are reading:

"One Direction members Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson came out as a couple."

"They admitted this morning on a live show of (TV show name) that they have been together for (amount of years)."

You go on Google and type in "Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson" and everywhere is the same syndicated article. Some even say "Looks like Larry Stylinson has been real all along" as an under title.

You look at their Twitter's and they put "🏳️‍🌈👨‍❤️‍👨💍" in their bio.

You type in RBBSBBofficial in the search bar and see the very family Twitter handle.

There is a retweeted Tweet: "larry ok"

You look at their Instagram's and Louis changed his to "louistomlinson" and wiped everything that is stunt-related or in any way heterosexual or in connection with Simon Cowell. He also put a picture with a green color.

Harry archived every black and white picture and put a picture with only a blue color.

Their Wikipedia's shows Larry's story and they put a column in the personal life section. "(Styles/Tomlinson) came out on (Date) in (TV show) and revealed on the show that (Louis/Harry) is married to (Harry/Louis) since (a specific time). It even has a" Spouse:" section on their bio.

They unfollow all the stunts. Babygate is shut down with this statement. Both are happier and relieved.

They do an Instagram story after a week of their CO. They thank everyone, who has shown support on Twitter, Tumblr and Instagram.

They start to date in public. We see pictures of them holding hands, we see them both attend an event together, they are very close to each other and always stroking each other's back and always giving reassurance. Louis starts wearing more of his fashionable style he had since day 1. They kiss on the red carpet for the first time after some months have passed after their CO.

Oprah invites them to her show.

Ellen DeGeneres invites them to her show.

The Late Late Show invites them to their show.

Good Morning America invites them to their show.

But they reject all of them. The only place they go to is YouTube and explain why they waited this long. They make reaction videos to FIMQ videos and some other Larry videos. They go radio silence for a few months just to let the media cool off.

Everyone on the media industry is happier.

Everyone except the people, who hid them for a very long time.

Harry and Louis have won. Finally. And nobody can stop them anymore. Everything is dished out.

[richiefuckfacetozier]

Okay, imagine the IT kids in the 2010s. Eddie's is gay and with Richie and Sonia knows about it, but she desperately tries to avoid talking about it and pretend it isn't true. And then Love Simon comes out, and Eddie convinces her to see it with him, and it helps her accept Eddie being gay and being with Richie

This took a bit to answer because I am on vacation and wanted to write a little fic about this very thing! I’m doing it in first person present because that’s how it is in the book Simon Vs the Homosapien Agenda, which is a terrible title for a book thank god they named the movie Love, Simon.

Exhale

Located on Ao3

Richie and I lay on the couch watching television. He has an arm around my waist, while my head is in the crook of his neck. I trace my fingers along his arm slowly then sigh softly.

“What’s wrong?” Richie asks immediately. I smile at the intuitiveness my boyfriend always has even with the slightest of mood change.

“I’m taking mom to Love, Simon tonight.” I mumble.

“No fucking way.” Richie uses his other arm to push himself up, so he is leaning above me to scan my face for a lie. “She’ll never agree to go.”

“I mean…”

“That movie is the funny, heartwarming, adorable, and the gay romantic comedy we both have craved since we were 13. Your dragon of a mother will hate every minute of it. I’m picturing her face and oh my godddd…” Richie starts laughing which brings my anxiety to a tipping point. I can feel my face heating up faster than a fry cooker.

“Thanks for the fucking support.” I try to roll off the couch and move away but Richie traps me in his arms. I attempt to struggle, “No! You don’t get to cuddle me if you are going to be an asshole!” Richie starts to run his hands up my sides making me laugh and squirm. He swings his leg over to straddle my legs and get a better hold on tickling.

“Mercy! Mercy!” I laugh still wiggling aggressively. Richie grabs my hands and brings them above my head. He smiles down at me then brings his mouth forward to kiss. I return the pressure but pull away soon after with an unsure expression. “You really think I shouldn’t take her?”

“Ah. Still on the Ice Queen.” Richie leans back entwining his fingers with mine. “You should definitely take her. I just think she’ll refuse to go or walk out before it is done. Which will just hurt your feelings baby.”

“I’m not a baby and it won’t hurt my feelings if she walks out.” I lie terribly. “I don’t care what she thinks.”

“You’re not a baby, you’re MY baby.” Richie kisses my neck slowly his lips giving my skin goosebumps. “And it WILL hurt your feelings. You broke your phone when she told you to break up with me.”

“It was an old phone anyway.”

“You yelled at me for 10 minutes straight when she ignored you for a week after coming out.”

“You told me I had small hands.”

“You do have small hands.”

“I blacked out during that argument.” I muse.

“When are you two going?” Richie says softly.

I bite the inside of my cheek subconsciously. “Tonight, I didn’t tell her what the movie is about.”

Richie places a hand on the cheek I am chewing. “It’ll be ok. I’ll sneak in the back and will be ready to watch the rest of it with you when she runs out.”

I glare at him but still manage a little smile. “Fuck you. She might like it.”

“We’ll see.” Richie laughs then kisses my glare away.

“What’s the movie about?” My mother asks as we wait in line for popcorn. Her arms are crossed and she looks thoroughly bored.

“It’s a teen romcom,” I say quickly.

“Well, that doesn’t sound too bad.” She says reluctantly as we step forward to the cashier. “Can I get a large popcorn and a medium soda…”

I look to the side and see Richie wave before heading into the movie. True to his word, he came to watch the movie.

A million anxious thoughts are flying through my head. I keep trying to convince myself that this IS a good idea. She WILL see how accepting and loving Simon’s parents are. Then change her mind about me.

“What do you want to drink?” My mother’s voice cuts through.

“Diet Coke is fine. Thanks, Ma.” I say patiently. “So Ma, I was thinking we should get dinner with Richie after the movie.” She tenses up immediately and does not answer. “I know you’re not the biggest fan but it would be nice for my mother and my boyfriend get along. He’s really good to me.”

“I’ll probably be tired after the movie.” She says tersely. The drinks are handed to her and I grab the popcorn bitterly. Then we head toward the theater.

My mother briefly glances at the poster of the movie before walking in to grab seats. “The boy on the poster looks a little like you, Eddie-bear. He’s cute.”

I grin tightly. “Thank you, but I like to think my eyes look less tired than his do.”

She tuts at my joke clearly not realizing I am kidding. “Oh Eddie. That’s not what I meant.”

There is a nervous energy flowing through me as we try to find a good place to sit. I can’t believe I got her this far without an issue. All I can do now is pray she does not run out before the movie is finished.

As we sit down the lights dim, I take a peek at the very back row and spot Richie lounging tossing skittles in the air then catching them in his mouth. I smile at him until he notices me. He makes a show of kissing his palm then blowing the kiss in my direction. I humor him by catching it in my hand and placing the blown kiss against my lips. The nervousness begins to ease.

I love Richie.

I turn back around as the last preview ends and the 20th Century Fox logo vibrates through the room. My palms are sweaty and I’m practically shaking.

I keep peeking at her from the corner of my eyes then the moment of truth happens. Simon begins his opening monologue where he talks about his normal life, great family, adorable friends and he says, “…so I am just like you except I have one huge ass secret…” As Simon looks out the window of his room to see the handsome gardener.

I see my mother tense. My stomach drops as I realize she is absolutely going to walk out. Her hands are gripping the armrests. I continue to eat popcorn acting unperturbed.

As Simon goes out to his car, he says to the gardener, “I like your boots!” And I feel the second-hand embarrassment like I did the first time I watched it with Richie. Last time we laughed and whispered about how Richie used to poorly flirt with me. “I like…your boots!”

Then my mother chuckles.

I stare at her quickly then look back at the screen. I can’t believe my ears just witnessed my mother laughing at a gay boy unsuccessfully flirting.

She laughs a little louder when Simon hits his head on the steering wheel in shame. She doesn’t completely relax but is definitely into the story.

Throughout the film, she smiles, laughs, nudges me at cute parts, and I am in a state of complete elation. She mentions how much Leah is just like Beverly, sassy but sweet to me. She whispers how much she hates Martin and thinks he is the worst person.

We both weep of laughter when Simon has a daydream of his straight friends ‘coming out’ and our identical cackling laughter was so loud after Abby says, “I’m heterosexual,” and her mom cries dramatically, “Oh God help me, Jesus!”

Every time a guy flirts with Simon she asks me, “Oh my god! Is it him?! Is that Blue?”

“Ma!” I whisper back with a laugh. “You’ll see.”

“This is torture.” She replies.

When she starts crying, it’s beyond overwhelming for me. She cried after I came out to her, didn’t say a word, just cried. But she is crying now as Simon is outed to the whole school.

She cries when Simon’s father handles it badly.

Continues to sob as Simon ignores his family.

She cries when the bullies make fun of Simon publically then claps with everyone as the teacher yells at the bullies.

The crying keeps coming as Simon blows up at Martin. “I’m supposed to be the one to decide when and where and who knows. That’s supposed to be my thing. You took that from me!…So just leave me the FUCK alone!”

Mom is sobbing really hard. I look over at her and say softly, “Ma, it’s ok.”

“No, It’s not!” She says in full voice. People around us shush her but she ignores them. “I’m so sorry Eddie-bear. I’m just…so sorry.”

I don’t know what to say so I nod back. “We’ll talk after the movie.”

As the movie goes on mom calms down a bit.

My favorite moment comes when Simon and his mother finally talk. He asks her if she knew and I can sense mom getting anxious about the conversation. I think about how horrible our last talk was and wonder if she is thinking the same thing. As Jennifer Garner’s character says “…But these last few years, more and more, it almost like I can feel you holding your breath…” My mom reaches over and grabs my hand. I squeeze it and start to cry myself. I don’t think I’ve ever loved my mom more in my entire life. “…You get to exhale now, Simon. You get to be more you than you have been in…in a very long time. You deserve everything you want.”

When the credits roll and the lights go up, mom spends the whole time talking about her favorite parts. That she is so happy to have guessed correctly about who Blue was.

Richie walks down the path to them hesitantly. “Hi Mrs. K! Hey Eddie! I saw you both here and thought I would say…well…hello.”

She looks at him and gives a small smile then throws her arms around him. Richie stares at me in confusion and my mouth parts in awe.

She pulls back with a huge smile on her face. “You are such a good boyfriend to my son and deserve to know that. I would like to take you to dinner with us if you are free?” She has an expression of complete sincerity.

“Sure! I’d love to grab dinner with my two favorite Kaspbraks.” I grin at him. Mom leads the way out of the movie theater. Richie hangs back to take my hand and kiss my cheek.

I let out an exhale of air I didn’t know I was holding. As if all the pain I have been feeling is blowing slowly out of me. 

I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.

@sam-i-am2468 @ohheydatsme @missingstanleyuris @jaederp @loser-marsh @jem-carstairs-is-perfection @reddieaddict @richieskata @reddie-brasil @lesbihonest-imhellagay @richietoaster