#we all know jamie paid for the bill

[prettyboywoll]

[its-time-to-write]

hi there! (ok FIRST AND FOREMOST i need to tell you that i am obsessed with your writing. you are by far my favorite jamie tartt writer, you characterize him perfectly and nail his speech mannerisms! not an easy feat! so thank u for writing what you do and for sharing it with us!!!! <333333 ok now that i've gotten that off my chest) if you're taking requests right now i'd love to see your take on a (slowburn?) enemies to lovers fic with jamie!!

I don’t know why I take simple little prompts and turn them into angsty monstrosities. This one makes up for the lack of plot in my other fics, and I’d like to apologize in advance😬

Oh also I am the queen of commas, in case you didn’t know 😇😇

flipped the script

It cannot be considered murder if you’re provoked. It would be considered doing the world a favor. 

And by god, you are going to fucking murder Jamie Tartt.

He does absolutely fucking nothing but make your life fucking miserable and you’re fucking losing it.

The only thing you’d agree on is when it started. It was 4am and he was yelling at someone called Roy and you had to be awake in two hours for a fucking conference, and you’d only just fallen asleep at 1am.

So you marched out of your house to the sidewalk where your prick neighbor was arguing with his prick coach and told him to shut the fuck up or I’m calling the police.

He opened his mouth to retort, changed his mind, then made a snide comment about your choice of outfit while you glared at him. His prick coach had the decency to apologize and smack Jamie on the head, so you said, “You’re fine, Roy, I’ll see you at work next week,” and Roy said, “Ah shit, you have that fucking conference, yeah?” and you said yeah then flipped off Jamie as you walked away.

You really hadn’t had many interactions with Jamie before, but you knew him before you started your job as an administrative assistant for AFC Richmond since you were, after all, living right next to each other.

Your last job had paid incredibly well; you were basically the go-to girl for your last company for two and half years. You compiled all relevant information from the day and presented to your boss so he would be caught up on the company’s inner workings. You were observant when it came to valuable (or toxic) employees, and had gained a reputation for being an invaluable asset.

But your old boss was retiring and you were ready for something new, so you began looking around. You found a job at AFC Richmond, assisting a Mr. Higgins and just generally making sure his job ran smoothly so the club could run smoothly. 

It was mostly paperwork, but you enjoyed it. You collected data from all different departments and then ran it by Higgins and Ms. Welton. You weren’t above coffee runs; it was nice to get out sometimes and Ms. Welton would put your coffee on her bill. You got to take your lunch breaks with them and talk and laugh, and be appreciated, which is something you didn’t often get.

The nature of your job demands a certain level of… professionalism, shall we say, which can be misconstrued as coldness. You’re not. You’re just young and trying to be taken seriously, which is why it’s nice to be known both in a personal and professional capacity by Higgins and Ms. Welton. Higgins has even invited you over for family dinner and you’d invited his family over to yours. His boys had absolutely lost their minds at the amount of nerf guns you had stashed in each room, courtesy of your brother who often liked to drop by unannounced when he knew you were home and get you in the back of the head. Sometimes you regretted giving him a key, but not enough to take it back.

All that to say, it was a relatively seamless transition to AFC Richmond. You and Jamie would exchange a neighborly nod if you saw each other, but that was absolutely it. 

—

The next incident is, uh, kind of your fault.

Remember the brother-and-nerf-guns thing?

Yeah.

Your brother had sneaked over on a Sunday (parked around the corner so his car wouldn’t be seen on your security cameras) and you were chasing each other around the house. Your sister-in-law had warned you he was coming over (he asked her to drive him), so you were prepared and hiding in the bushes. He was nonchalantly walking on the sidewalk, hands in his hoodie, when you popped out and got him right in the chest then booked it into your house, which led to a solid fifteen minutes of running and yelling, with the occasional, “Ow, you jerk!” that siblings are always saying but never really mean.

The incident occurs when you’re once again in your front yard running from your brother. You look back to assess how far away he is when smack, you run into someone and feel their beverage go flying.

It’s Jamie, and his bright pink drink is now all over his clean white hoodie.

You both stop and glare at each other. 

You had stopped feigning civility after the 4am thing, so the glare is standard procedure.

Jamie says, “What the fuck?” as your brother comes careening to an abrupt halt.

You’re still glaring. “Why are asking me ‘what the fuck?’ You’re the one walking around here with that fucking awful drink that’s probably going to kill your internal organs. I mean seriously, it cannot be safe to consume something that bright.”

“Says the girl who’s addicted to diet soda.”

“Says the girl who’s fucking pissed that her sidewalk is stained fucking bright pink. How the fuck am I supposed to clean this?”

Jamie’s face is red now, and yours is too.

“A), it’s a fucking public sidewalk and b), what about my fucking sweatshirt? This cost more than your shitty car!” he shoots back, and that’s the moment a line is crossed.

“We live in the same goddamn neighborhood,” you hiss, “so shut the fuck up with your stupid elitist footballer bullshit.”

“Oi, at least I’m not a fucking stuck-up, self-righteous big-shot with no friends!”

You’re not sure what would have happened next because your brother grabs you by the arm and hauls you back inside, waving apologetically to Jamie. All the fight goes out of you as soon as the door shuts.

“What the ever-loving hell was that?” he asks. He never did like using the word “fuck.”

—

What the ever-loving hell was that? Well, it’s actually quite simple. In the seven months you’ve been at Richmond, you haven’t really made any friends.

Yes, you have Ms. Welton and Higgins, but that’s not the same as having people the same age as you to go out with and watch movies and drink and dance and just be stupid and unwind with. 

You’re not even necessarily looking for friends at Nelson Road, just friends somewhere. The problem is, you’re not even sure how to go about it. You’ve spent the last decade of your life (yes, decade) working your ass off to get where you are now. Fourteen year-old knew what she wanted and was determined to get it. You had hustled through school, made connections, grew your resume, and saved every fucking penny until you landed a job that you were definitely under qualified for, but you had nailed the interview. You weren’t sure why your boss decided to take a chance on you, until he told you later he saw the same spark his daughter had in your eyes.

His daughter, who had become a multi-millionaire on her own by the time she was twenty-seven.

So, because someone saw the grit in your eyes of all places, you had a chance to make a fuck ton of money and have a fuck ton of benefits.

You made more connections, including a realtor who set you up with your current home at a price that was insane to normal people, but a steal to the rich. You were signing papers before it was even officially on the market.

It had been labelled as a “fixer-upper,” but that meant a little bit of scuffed paint and slightly outdated utilities. 

And it was yours.

It all came at a price though, didn’t it?

That price was not seeing your family often, sleeping poorly, and no real friends.

That’s why your brother makes it a point to come around. He knows that your lack of contact does not equate a lack of love.

Not everyone saw it that way. You’d lost all your friends at this point, labeled a bitch and a workaholic. So, you though, why the hell not just lean into it. You could be a bitch and a workaholic if it got things done. It was easier to harden the shell around your heart than let people in again.

—

Ok, maybe taking out all that anger on Jamie isn’t healthy, but hey, he’s the one fighting back so hard. 

Things keep happening. His foot is stuck out just enough to make you stumble as you pass each other in the hallway, your car is parked on the street just enough so he can’t get into his garage, ferocious glares are exchanged. Any conversation you are forced to have is laced with sarcastic, biting remarks that only serve make you close off even more. 

The worst part? You’re both fucking brilliant at hiding it. 

You’d have to be, especially at AFC Richmond under Ted Lasso’s command. If he got wind of this, he’d be all over it trying to fix it and neither of you want that. 

You see, Jamie’s a little bit fucked up too.

—

You’ve been at AFC Richmond for a year, and you’ve hated Jamie Tartt for eleven months.

Yet somehow, you’re in fucking Paris. 

Not with just Jamie, of course, but the whole team.

Rebecca’s basically given you a paid vacation because there isn’t much for you to do here. It’s great, the city of lights or something, but you can’t enjoy it. 

You’re in your room on the floor, becoming slowly dehydrated from crying.

Everything is all fuzzy and you’re incredibly disoriented, so you think you might be hallucinating when you hear a knock on the door.

It happens again, more insistently, and you think it’s probably Rebecca so you drag yourself up off the floor, wipe your eyes, and open it to find Jamie Tartt standing in front of you, clearly wishing to be anywhere else.

He’s staring at the top of the doorframe as he says, “Coach sent me to see if you want to go out with the lads tonight,” looking down only when you’ve left his statement unanswered for far too long.

His look of annoyance changes as he clocks your puffy eyes and red nose. 

“You alright?” he asks and you don’t even have the heart to say, obviously, don’t I look it? so you just nod and move to shut the door. 

Jamie blocks it with his hand and pushes it back open, then past you into the room.

It’s pristine, all marble and gold; and far too big for you. You would have preferred something smaller, something less empty. Something less cold. 

All you can do is stand there mutely in your t-shirt and sweatpants, watching your worst enemy clatter around in the room’s fridge looking for a water bottle.

He retrieves one and hands it to you, cap unscrewed.

You don’t ask if he’s spit in it, just take a sip and look at him with dead eyes.

“You look like shit,” he observes, breaking the silence. 

It’s not a dig. You’ve heard enough condescension from his lips to know when he’s fighting.

You shrug.

“You gonna say something?” Jamie asks, and that’s enough to get you going.

“You’re the one who’s in my room,” you say and instead of firing back, Jamie grins. 

“We can go to mine if you want, love,” he winks and in a terrible, awful, panic-inducing moment, you are thrown completely off your guard.

How the fuck are you supposed to reconcile this Jamie Tartt with the awful neighbor you hate? And is he- flirting? Surely not.

He registers your face going through a million expressions in an instant and sobers.

“Go sit,” he says, and you comply without thinking. You’re cross-legged on the couch and he thumps down next to you. He’s not close enough that you’re touching, but you can feel the heat radiating off his body. It’s funny, because you feel so cold. You wonder for a moment if your heart has actually turned to stone and that’s why you’re shivering.

You hear someone say, “My ex is here,” and are horrified to realize that you’re the one talking, and not only that, but you’re continuing. 

“He fucking… knew I’d be here. I saw him in the lobby. He acted like it was some great coincidence, but he was never a great liar. And… he’s here with his girlfriend. Fiancée, I guess. Because he’s proposing to her tonight. They’ve known each other less than a year, and he’s proposing to her. I saw him in the lobby looking like this while he’s in a fucking suit and all I can think about is the fact that he broke up with me because I wouldn’t put out because I wasn’t ready. And how he said he wasn’t the marrying type.” You pause.

“I broke my back making time for him. Everyone thinks I’m a workaholic and maybe I am, but I make time for the people I love. I made time for him. It sounds funny to say, especially how I am now, but he’s why I don’t anymore. Make time, I mean. Nobody notices I’m gone anyway. Or when I’m around. Or anything I do unless I’m doing something for them.”

You risk a look at Jamie. He’s studying your face with an intensity you’ve never seen and you look down to find his hand in yours, and you wonder how that happened. Your knuckles are white from gripping it but he’s holding it back and it gives you just enough of a boost to keep going.

“I don’t even want the money for myself. Like, I’m able to buy expensive shit and that’s cool, but the only reason I have a house that big is because my brother and his wife have a shit-ton of kids, and sometimes they need a break. So they can come over to mine and run around and have space and be wild for a week and I don’t care. They won’t let me give them money, so I have to think of creative ways to help them out. I only have nephews- they each have their own trust fund. It’s not that big right now, but it’s growing. It’ll be a lot by the time they’re each eighteen. And my parents… They died when I was fourteen. It was a stupid car accident, this freak thing with the brakes even though they’d just had the car serviced a week before. My brother was twenty one and newly married because he’s an idiot and he was in love. He and his wife let me live with them.”

You shake your head. “No, that’s not right, they didn’t just let me live with them, they took care of me. Bought me clothes and fed me and let me have my own room even though I said I could sleep on the couch. They could barely afford things for themselves, but they made sure I had what I needed. That’s why I threw myself into work and pushed people away. It’s for them, because I know I can never repay them. But I want to, even if they won’t let me.”

You’re done speaking, finally, and your face is bright red. It normally is when speaking to Jamie, but that’s from the sheer anger you usually feel from having to deal with him. This time it’s different. It’s from the embarrassment of being vulnerable in front of someone.

Jamie hasn’t said anything the whole time, just let you hold his hand. Your knees are touching now, and you realize that one of you must have shifted to make that happen.

You take a deep breath and blow it out slowly. “Why are you here, Jamie?” you ask softly. “You hate me. I don’t even know why I told you all that.”

He looks straight into your eyes. “I don’t hate you,” he says simply.

That’s enough to fully shatter the shell around your heart, and you’re shaking with silent sobs again as Jamie pulls you closer, your back against his chest as he wraps his arms around you.

—

You fall asleep like that, and you’re not sure at which point Jamie left. But when you wake up, you’re in your bed under a blanket. You think maybe you dreamed the whole thing until you see the note on your nightstand in messy handwriting.

I meant what I said.

—

Neither you nor Jamie comment on it, but something has changed. You don’t hate him anymore. He sits next to you on the plane back and cracks jokes, and you have a weird opportunity to apologize. He tells you he’s sorry too, explains about his dad, and you form a strange bond of repressed anger as a way to deal with hurt. 

Ted is right, forgiveness is the way to go.

—

Jamie Tartt makes it a point to ask you to go out with the lads every time they do group activities. You meet Rebecca’s friend Keeley, basically the only other girl, and pretty soon she’s invited herself over for girl’s nights. Jamie recognizes Keeley’s car the second time it happens and walks over to say hey. She invites him in, and suddenly he’s a fixture at girl’s night. His movie recommendations are shit, but his skincare products are not.

Since things at AFC Richmond aren’t as hectic as you’re used to, you start to pick up some of your old hobbies. Cooking, for example. You get your hands on a copy of Jamie’s diet plan and start experimenting with ways to make it more interesting. So now he’s at yours for dinner more often than not. 

He pops his head over the fence one Saturday afternoon, hearing young voices all morning. Your nephews are over and playing football in the backyard while your brother and sister-in-law deep clean their house. You’re sitting under an umbrella with the baby in your arms and a pitcher of water, when you hear Isaiah, the oldest, say, “Whoa! Is that Jamie Tartt?” 

You look up from Daniel’s tiny giggly face to see Jamie hanging over your fence and waving. You roll your eyes and grin back.

“Wanna come over?” you call, and the words are barely our of your mouth before he’s hopped over and starting to steal the ball from your four walking nephews.

They’re at it for a good thirty minutes before he calls time-out and is jogging over to you, all sweaty and grinning. 

“Didn’t know you were good with kids,” he says.

“Could say the same thing about you,” you shoot back.

He grabs water then makes a silly face at Daniel, who giggles and waves his arms. You laugh and kiss the baby on the top of his head, which makes him gurgle. You look up to see Jamie watching you strangely, so you wrinkle your nose at him. “What?” you say, but before he can open his mouth to respond, Jesse is pulling on Jamie’s hand, telling him the time-out is over.

—

Your next interaction of note happens after your third consecutive Richmond match. You don’t usually go to them, as it’s not required and you didn’t really care. But since you’ve been hanging out with the team, you find yourself taking Rebecca up on her offer to sit in the owner’s box. It’s three days until the next match and you’re looking for Jamie so you can eat lunch together. You find him in the locker room of all places and hand him his bag of food, yet another one of your experiments.

You’re starting to get really good revitalizing Jamie’s meal plan.

His eyes light up when he sees you, and you both miss the looks exchanged between Ted and Beard in their office.

Jamie puts down the lunch and says, “Oi, I got you something.” He reaches into his locker and pulls out a Richmond jersey.

“It’s new, it ain’t one of mine, but now you can wear it to matches.”

You shake it open to see it’s a Jamie Tartt jersey, and this makes you unreasonably happy.

Jamie’s grinning too, and it’s the rare kind of grin where his teeth look sharper and his eyes flash.

You hug it to your chest and say, “I’ll be sure to wear it Saturday,” before you and Jamie head to the café to eat.

— 

Keeley, of course, has comments about the jersey. You pretend not to understand what she’s saying.

—

It’s girls night again, and you and Jamie are pulling snacks out of his cabinets when your phones ding at the same time. It’s Keeley on your groupchat.

Can’t make it babes, something’s come up.

You make a comment involving the words “Roy Kent,” and riffing on her excuse, which makes Jamie laugh.

“I guess I’ll head back to mine,” you say, but Jamie tilts his head and says, “Or you could just… stay,” so you do.

You’re on his couch again, like the night you stopped hating him: your back agains his chest as you rub your thumb absentmindedly on his tattooed forearm.

You’re midway through the movie and explaining to Jamie the limited plausibility of it happening in real life, when he says a soft, oh shit as you pause to take a breath.

“What?” you say, sitting up. “Is everything alright?”

Jamie rubs a hand across his face. “You’re gonna fucking hate me again.”

You squint. “Not sure that’s possible. You’ve got too much dirt on me.”

Jamie just groans. “Nah, you’ll hate me. But I’m gonna tell you anyway.”

He grabs your hand and looks you straight in your eyes, giving you goosebumps.

“I’m fucking in love with you,” he says, and your brain still functions just enough to crash your lips into his.

You’re on top of him and his fingers are tangled in your hair, but as your fingers ghost his waistband, he stills and grabs your hand.

You freeze too, afraid you’ve crossed a line, but Jamie says, “I’m not fucking you for the first time on my couch. We’re going to do this proper,” and then he’s whisking you off your feet and up the stairs.

—

You know that fucking someone you work with is a line you said you’d never cross. But he was your neighbor first, and you’re in love, so it doesn’t count. You’re lying on Jamie’s bed gasping for air after god knows how long and all you can say is, “fuck me.”

Jamie smirks. “Thought I just did, babe, but I’ll go again,” and you’re seeing stars for the third time that night.

He’s sucking a line across your collarbone when you say, “Wait!”

Jamie is off of you in a moment, and you feel strangely empty.

“You alright?” he asks, all concern.

“I never said it back,” you explain. Jamie’s still confused.

“I love you too. You said you’re fucking in love with me. I’m in love with you too. Just thought I should make it clear.” 

Jamie’s looking at you all strange again, eyes dark, so you roll him back on top and let him devour you.

[greazyfloz]

def want a part 2 for the zegras thigh riding!

Smut w/ Trevor Zegras

Part 1

Wanna Try - Part 2

After Trevor and I's little experiment everything went back to normal, a part of me didn't want it to though. There was no awkwardness between Trevor and I we were just back to platonic friends. There were things that he would do that would instantly get me wet like when he licked his bottom lip before biting it when he was listening to someone speak, or just wear certain colognes. It was hard to contain myself because my mind always wonders to that night.

Currently Trevor, Jamie, Mason and I were currently all out getting lunch together at a local cafe just hanging out in the Anaheim heat just a few days after our little rendezvous. After lunch, we paid the bill and all went our separate ways. Although Jamie and Trevor were living together, they had taken seperate vehicles because of a commitment Jamie had after, which left Trevor and I alone.

"So what do you want to do?" he asks me

"I don't know, do you have any ideas?" I say looking out the window.

"Well, you remember the favour I did for you the other day?" He asks me

"Favour? What favour?" I laugh rolling my eyes as I look over at him

"You know what I'm talking about" he says as he brings his Bronco to a stop obeying the red light before looking at me

"What?" I say playfully laughing

"It's your turn to do me a favour" he says reaching over for my hand and resting on his crotch to feel his semi-hard cock. I swallow hard then look at him questioningly as he continues holding my hand on his cock, "We got to try thigh riding, how about we try road head?"

The car behind us honks on their horn catching Trevor's attention and he looks away from me and back at the road. He turns the signal light on and turns into the nearest parking lot then puts his car in park.

"Come on, I know you want to. Your hand wouldn't still be hanging on to my dick if not" he says and I quickly bring my hand back from his cock realizing that his hand wasn't there anymore holding it there. He giggles as I think for a second before speaking up.

"Okay" I tell him and he immediately gets excited.

"Yes!" he says undoing his pants then pulling his cock out. He puts the car in drive then begins leaving the parking lot when he starts to stroke his now hard cock, "Wait until I get to the freeway"

He then takes the shortest way he could possible think of to the freeway while he continues jerking himself off. I cross my legs as I start feeling my panties soil watching him jerk off beside me. As he is merging on to the freeway, I unbuckle my seatbelt and position myself so I am looking at him as I reach down to stroke his cock.

He lets out a slight grunt before I begin lowering myself down so mouth is facing his cock. I lick his tip once before entering it into my mouth. I suck nice and slow on his tip gradually getting lower and lower down his shaft. I start getting faster sucking his cock as I begin massaging his balls and I can hear the sound of him throwing his head back against the head rest as he lets out a small moan.

As I continued the motions, he places one hand on the top of my head and pushes my head down faster on his cock. My throat releases a glucking noise as I moan on his cock. Trevor then turns the car off the freeway.

"Don't worry, keep going" he says. I continued to suck on his cock then soon the car came to a stop and he takes his hand out of my hair to put his car in park.

I take his cock out of my mouth and bring them down to suck on his balls. Tilting my head upwards while I do it so I can face Trevor. Trevor wasn't smiling looking down at me but looked like he was about to cum, as he let out a small moan.

As I was sucking his balls I stroked his cock. I stopped sucking them, "This isn't road head anymore if you aren't driving" I say before licking his balls. He bites his lips as he breathes out harshly, so I lick them once more.

"If I cum, you have to swallow" he says to me, and I then begin to lick up his shaft. I replace my hand with my mouth and suck up and down a few times before I feel Trevor's cock twitch. He moans as I suck down his shaft a little further as he finishes in my mouth, then I slowly suck his cock dry before sitting back in my seat.

I opened my mouth to show him the cum before closing my mouth and swallowing, "good girl" he says then giggles before readjusting himself in his pants. After he gets himself all situated he puts his car in park then drives back to his place.

When we arrived back to his and Jamie's, I reach in my purse and grab my keys. The rest of the drive we just casually chatted as if I didn't just suck his cock while he drove down the freeway. I needed to go home. I was way too turned on to be around him right now.

"You aren't going to come in?" Trevor says when he realizes I wasn't behind him as he was walking to the door.

"Uh, no" I say and awkwardly look back at my car then back to him, "I have to go home, I forgot to do something" I tell him as I open my car door.

"You can't do it later?"

"No, but maybe I'll swing by later" I say hoping in my car and driving off.

Pt. 3???

[faghubby]

WIFE AND SISSY

I was nervous as I stood holding Jamie's hand.

"Here he comes" Jamie told me excitedly. "Now just shake his hand and thank him for pleasing me for you." She told me.

He was a

Arge black man, Jamie jumped into his arms. I looked around the park to see if anyone noticed. My wife kissing this huge black man. He put her down. Jamie motioned to me.

"I want to thank you" I said going to shake his hand. Jamie looked at me sternly.

"I want to thank you for pleasing Jamie like I could never do" I said

"My pleasure" he responded smiling he shook my hand his hand engulfed mine.

"Why don't I buy you girls some lunch" he said turning to Jamie. She motioned for me to follow as she held his hand. She ignored that he had called me a girl. We sat at an outdoor bistro. Jamie openly flirted with Don. When the waitress came over Don ordered for us all. He didn't ask just ordered.

"So, Tomas. You work where?" He asked me. I had been layed off months ago and had not found another job. Jamie just laughed her hand obviously in his lap.

"Just teasing, I may have a lead on a job for you" he told me. Giving me a name and number to call.

"That's great, thank you" Jamie told him. Then looked at me.

"Yes thank you" I responded. He waved off as it was nothing. We ate and he paid the bill.

"Tommy, give Don your car keys." Jamie told me. "You can take the bus home. I am going to over to Don's place" she told me. I handed Don my keys.

"Do you have bus fair?" Jamie asked as if I was a little kid. I just nodded. Knowing she was going to get fucked by this mountain of a man. We parted ways. I walked to other side of the park and caught the bus home. A few minutes later I got a text. It was a pic of Jamie on her knees sucking Don's big cock. Jamie had been sleeping with him for three weeks now. She had confessed the very first time. But told me she wasn't going to stop. She had caught me on our security system wearing her clothes. And decided she needed a real man. She had me wear panties 24/7 now and allowed me to dress up when we had sex. Which was more like lesbians see then anything else.

She made no secret from family and friends that she slept with other men. Or that I was shaved smooth and wore panties. My sister wasn't surprised having caught me wearing her clothes several times as a kid. Quite a few of my male friends just stopped talking to me altogether.

I so wanted to play with myself but held off knowing Jamie would be disappointed. I called Alex the job offer Don had told me about.

"Hello"a woman answered.

"Yes, I am a friend of Don's and" I started

"Is this Tomas?" Shs said.

"Yeah, I am looking for Alex" I said questioning

"Yes, I am Alec. Can you start tonight?" She asked. I wasn't even aware what the job was. But was thrown by the conversation "

"Yes" I replied.

"Great, 245 Baltimore st. At 11pm. Tell Adam your meeting me" she told me and hung up. I still didn't know what the job was and at night? I decided to try and take a nap since I would be up late. Jamie woke me it was already dark.

"Hey sleepy head. She was naked and climbing into bed. She lowered herself to sit on my face and large globs of cum instantly flowed into my mouth.

"I love your gentile tounge after his big strong cock" Jamie told me. When she was happy I had cleaned it all she moved and allowed me to clean her ass as well.

Then she jumped in the shower.

"I called that job, Don told me about" I told her.

"Great" she said through the steam of the shower

"Meeting her tonight" I told Jamie.

"Her?" Jamie said stepping out of the shower.

"Alec is a woman" I informed her. I went to jump in the shower as well. Jamie stopped me.

"Don't you like Don's cum all over your face?" She asked. Leading me to the bedroom. She opened her drawer and pulled out her strapon. I took it and knelt putting it on her.

"You like my big cock so much" she teased bending me over she pulled down my panties. Jamie had been training me to take it fucking me several times a week. It slid it with very little resistance.

"Your first pay check I want you to buy a bigger one" she told me as she fucked my ass.

"Where are my keys?" I asked as I went to leave.

"Don has your car, just take the bus" she told me. I ran to meet the bus. No one except a middle age man even looked up at me. And he seemd to be checking me out.

The building was locked when I got there. Adam was night security and let me in.

"She is on the 12th floor" he told me. When the elevator opened Alec was waiting. She explained that she owned a cleaning company. And I was going to be cleaning offices. I couldn't do this I thought. I used to work in buildings like this I had an office this wasn't me. I told Alec no thank you and left. I called Jamie.

"It's a cleaning service" I told her.

"I know Don told me" she responded. "I figured it was a perfect job for a sissy boi, now you march back up their and get the job" she told me. I wasn't happy but did as she said.

"Alec, I am sorry Yes thank you for this opportunity " I told her. She teamed me Roseta a Spanish woman who showed me what I was expected to do. She had me scrub the bathrooms and remove all the trash. It was simple enough but they moved fast. I had trouble keeping up. I took the bus home. I was exhausted. Jamie was asleep still. I woke her. She was naked.

"Don spent the night" she told me. Then pulled me down to her crotch. I licked his dry cum off her then continued till she came on my tounge. She went and jumped in the shower I fell asleep still in my clothes. When I got up Jamie wasn't home from work yet. I showered and shaved myself smooth as she liked me to be. Then got dressed. I dredded going back to work tonight but knew what Jamie would say. Jamie came home around 6.

"You didn't make dinner?" She was disappointed. But she handed me a bag. In it was a huge black dildo.

"It fits in my harness" she told me excitedly

"It's really big" I told her worried.

"Don't be silly I know you can't wait to try it" she dragged me into the bedroom. She had me strapon on her harness and she attached the toy. Shs just motioned for me to bend over. I took off my pants and got on the bed. She applied lube. And stood over me on the bed. She slowly worked this massive toy into my ass.

"It's so much bigger then my old one" she cooed the head popped in and I gasped.

"Breath baby, you want this" she told me. She waited till I became accustomed to the much larger size then worked it an inch at a time in and out.

"You are going to be so queen sized after this" she laughed. The mixture of pain and pleasure was driving me wild.

"Halfway" she said I already felt I was stuffed full. Cum had already soaked my panties. As she pushed more in.

"That's it baby you took all 11 inches" Jamie said proudly. Then started with longer strokes. She was so turned on I felt her wetness on her thighs everytime she pushed it in.

"You are such a fucking faggot" she told me as she fucked my ass. She collapsed on top of me driving it balls deep.

"OH God that was good" she said pulling it from me. My ass felt like it was torn open. I just laid on the bed.

"You better get showered and ready for work" she told me. I could barely walk but did as she told me.

"Tommi, maybe you should start wearing this as well" she held up a bra to my chest as I went to get dressed. I rolled my eyes.

"Is that a no?" Jamie asked.

"People will notice" I explained.

"So, are you ashamed at being my little faggot" Jamie asked.

She didn't wait for a response instead just put it on me. She then picked up my dirty panties and had me lick them clean. My panties matched my bra. I wore a sweatshirt so no one would notice. Don still had my car.

"Let me take your car" I told Jamie

"What if Don calls and wants me to come over. No I need my car" she told me. So again I took the bus. I worked even slower that night my ass aching. The ladies became annoyed. But just rushed me along. When I got home my car was in the driveway. I found Don and Jamie in bed asleep.

"Jamie, you got to get for work" I said kissing her softly.

"OH hi, sweety" she said the blanket fell away and she was naked.

"Don, it's time to get up" she said kissing him. He grabbed her and tried pulled her on to him.

"I can't I will be late" she told him getting off.

"Tommi, do you want to suck Don's cock" she asked pulling back the covers to show me his hard thick cock. She guided me to it.

"Go ahead" she told me. Putting it in my hand. And pushing my head down. I gave in and took him in my mouth. Jamie had made me suck her strapon before this wasn't much different it tasted better and was warm I thought. Don turned on the news and Jamie jumped in the shower. I was still sucking his cock when she got out. Her hands ran across my butt. A moment later her grabbed my head and held me as he came. I was choking on his cum when he finally let me go. I just could swallow fast enough. Once I caught my breath I licked him clean.

Jamie said nothing. Just got ready for work Don got up and showered and left before her.

"You really liked his cock" she told me rubbing my crotch thru my jeans. "You would make a pretty redhead" she informed me then left for work. I went to bed. I got up and made dinner.

When Jamie came home we ate then she took me into the bedroom and dyed my hair red.

"See you look so pretty" she told me. It was OK I guess but I didn't know why. At work I start to get into the routine and did a lot better. I had given up asking about my car. And bought a bus pass. When I got home Jamie was up and waiting for me.

"I really love the red" she told me. She wore her new strapon and bent me over the couch. She spent the next hour pounding away on my ass. When she pulled out she pushed her hand in.

"I can fist you now" she told me laughing. I just moaned as she did.

Jamie continued to push my boundaries, having me dress up fully and go out in public. She had my hair grow out and kept it red. I often found Don. Had spent the night and when he did it wasn't uncommon for me to give him a blowjob when he did. A few months later I found myself in yoga pants and a pink tee with a black bra showing thru while I went to work. They all knew by then that I was sissy boi. Jamie and I are planning a second wedding. So we can become officially Wife and Sissy.

[memphis-mafia-baby]

City Rhythms

Bonafide Guardian Angel

Chapter Two

Warnings: Elvis being a flirty menace, allusions to sex (but not stated), Talk of parent death (James’ parents and Gladys), talk of negligent parenting, lots of character backstory

Word Count: ~2450

AN: Wow, this one’s almost three times as long as the first chapter! You’re gonna learn a lot more about James and his life before Vegas in this one, and hopefully the friendship is developing in a good way. As always, feel free to let me know what you think! I’ll repost to as much feedback as I can!

Three weeks. It had been three weeks since I was hired as Elvis Presley’s personal assistant, and I could honestly say that I’d never been happier in my life.

Everything always happened at lightning speed, and it was exhilarating keeping up with Elvis. We’d gotten really close, and Elvis didn’t even refer to me as his assistant anymore. I was his best friend, his Jamie. I still teased him a bit by calling him boss every now and then, though that was mostly for myself. To remind myself that he was my employer and I was his employee, no matter how many nights we spent laughing together.

I’d moved rooms at the hotel to the spare bedroom in Elvis’s massive suite. He wanted to keep me close so if he ever needed me, I could be there in my normal speedy and efficient way.

Everyone ended up with a day off halfway through the six week contract, even me, at Elvis’s insistence.

“Jamie, everybody needs a break. I’m a full time job, you ain’t got no responsibility today.” He told me when I tried to order him coffee and breakfast.

I managed to convince him to let me finish and place the order under the condition that I lump my breakfast and coffee on to his bill. He wouldn’t even let me bring the tray over to the big table by the TV sets, he insisted on doing it himself.

“Come on, E. At least let me help a little bit!” I insisted with a small chuckle as I sat down beside Priscilla Presley, with enough room between us for Elvis to sit comfortably.

Priscilla laughed as Elvis worked on arranging the food. “But Jamie, you gotta leave a little work for his wife,” She teased.

I gave her a playful look. “Well, darlin, I’m the one who gets paid for it.”

“Girls girls, please.” Elvis laughed and Priscilla gave him a mock offended look.

“Who on earth do you think you’re calling a girl, Mr. Presley?” She asked and he stood up fully.

He put his hand on his chest and leaned towards her. “My deepest, most sincere apologies, madam.” He gave both of us a wicked grin before taking a wider stance. “Ladies, there ain’t no need to fight over lil ol’ me, there’s plenty of Elvis Presley to go around!”

He wiggled his legs and hips as he practically fell on top of Priscilla, and they both erupted in delighted laughter. I managed to join in and keep my composure. It was one thing to watch him dance and move on stage, where he couldn’t really see me and where I could hide under the low lights. It was another thing entirely for him to tease his wife like that when I was two feet away.

I stood up and grabbed my mug of coffee. “If y’need me, E, I’ll be up on the roof.”

He made a soft noise of acknowledgement, and I took my leave before things got any more heated between them.

I made my way up the stairs with my coffee in hand and my mind reeling. I had to get ahold of myself if I ever wanted to look Elvis in the eyes again. When I finally hauled myself through the roof door, I’d managed to calm down enough to think straight. I walked over to the edge so I could set down my mug and sit.

The air up there was clearer, and a gentle cool breeze came in from the sunrise. It was peaceful, being far enough away from all the noise and traffic. I made a mental note to go back at night and see how close I could get to the stars.

My coffee was abandoned and getting colder as I got lost in the clouds and the faint sounds of the city. I had no idea how long I was up there, and I was only brought out of the trance when I heard someone clearing their throat behind me.

“Y’look a lil lost there Jamie…” It was Elvis.

I turned around to look at him, and chuckled at his slightly disheveled appearance. His hair was mussed, his shirt was untucked, and he had a light sheen of sweat on his face.

“I’m not lost, boss. I’m right here in Vegas, with you, on my day off.” I quipped and looked back at the city.

“You been up here for hours, you sure you’re not lost?”

I shrugged and Elvis walked over so he could sit next to me on the ledge.

“I might be a little lost… There’s a rhythm to this place, y’know?” I asked and looked at him for a moment. “Every town has a rhythm, a way things get done. It’s more chaotic here than almost anywhere I’ve ever been but… If you take a few minutes to just listen to it, it’s really beautiful.”

Elvis gave me a quizzical look before he turned his attention to the street too. We stayed silent as I figured he was trying to hear what I heard, and I found myself stealing glances at him.

His eyes were closed and his lips were slightly parted. He started slowly nodding his head and tapping his fingers, and I couldn’t help but grin at him when he opened his eyes.

“You hear it, right?”

He nodded and grinned back at me. “How’d you find that? The city rhythm?”

I shrugged again. “When I was younger, I used to drive a truck deliverin’ anythin’ people would need. I went to all sorts of cities lookin’ for odd jobs and ways to help people. I would up spendin’ lotsa time on my own in hotels and the like, and I would always come up to the roof and watch the night life of wherever I was. I think I discovered city rhythm in Memphis actually…”

Elvis chuckled and gently shook his head. “Where in Memphis, Jamie?”

“My hotel was only a couple blocks away from Beale Street, so there was always music in the air. It wasn’t hard to find a beat when every window carried a tune… But when it all died down, that’s when I heard the music that is Memphis. Then after that, it became my little personal tradition to haul myself up to the roof of wherever I was stayin’ and try to find the music of the city.”

He smiled at me, and I had to turn away from the intensity of his gaze before he spoke. “That’s actually really beautiful, Jamie… You ever… You ever think about makin’ music? It takes a real special kinda person to be able to find that everywhere you go.”

I chuckled and tried to hide the blush that dusted my cheeks. “I actually uhm… I tried to get into the music industry, picked up guitar and everythin’ but… I dunno E, I could never figure out how to write my own songs, and no label I tried out for wanted another cover artist…”

He looked and sounded really surprised at that, and it took him a bit to respond.

“What… What songs did you learn, Jamie?” He sounded like he was a little lost on what to say to me.

“A few of your songs, but mostly the ones my Momma Willow used to sing when I was growing up.” I reached over to take a sip my coffee, but I grimaced when I realized it had gone cold.

Elvis gave me a puzzled look. “You call your mama by her name?”

I chuckled and shook my head, but the smile didn’t last on my face. “Momma Willow isn’t my mother… Well, not legally or nothin’ like that. She raised me, so she might as well be my Momma, at least I think of her that way.” I started and ended up staring off at the horizon. “My uh… My mother mother… She… She died when I was born…”

It felt like the entire world went silent. I hadn’t talked about my parents since I was a teenager, and I hadn’t really thought about them in nearly as long. As the seconds ticked by, the silence seemed to get heavier and heavier until I felt Elvis put his arm around my shoulders.

“I didn’t know that, ‘bout your mama… But…” There was so much emotion in his voice that I couldn’t pin down just what was making his voice so thick. “I know she’s up there, watchin’ us with my Mama. I bet she’s damn proud of you, Jamie.”

I managed a smile and took a deep breath. “I know your mama’s proud of you, Elvis. I’m glad you had time with her, and that you got to make good memories with her.”

Elvis looked up to the sky at that, the hand on my shoulder tightening imperceptibly. He looked beautiful, but distant, and I opened my mouth to speak again but he beat me to it.

“She’s always with me, but I wish she’d been here a little longer… I miss her, y’know?” His voice was still thick, but I could pinpoint a kind of sad nostalgia that Momma Willow used to get when she talked about her sister.

I nodded and followed his gaze up to the clouds. “I don’t know exactly how you feel, it’s hard to miss someone you never knew… But I get it, y’know? I haven’t been home in years, haven’t seen Momma Willow, and I miss her with my whole heart. At least you got your daddy still, he loves you a lot, E…”

He smiled a bit, and looked back down. “That’s true. He’s a good man, y’know? Tries his best to give me everything.”

I chuckled and sighed softly. “Mine was nothing like yours, E… I don’t think he ever loved me…”

Elvis turned to me with another puzzled look. It seemed as if I was doing nothing but confusing him. “I’m sure that’s not true, Jamie. When’s the last time you talked to ‘im? If ya wanted I betcha could work things out.” My expression hardened and I shook my head. “What is it, Jamie? Somethin’ wrong?”

I opened my mouth to talk, but closed it before I said anything. I turned away a bit, and Elvis’s arm fell from my shoulders as a result. I leaned forward on my knees and kept my head down as I got my thoughts together enough to talk.

“I never met my father.” I started and let out a long tired sigh as I came to grips with the fact that I was talking about my father. “After I was born, ‘n my mama died… He sold all his land to some big shot oil mongers for way too much money. He bought a house out in California, and… Before I was a year old, he left me in Nowhere with my Momma Willow… She only agreed to raise me under two conditions, that he send her money every month to take care o’ me… And that he write me into his will.

“I never learned anything about him until a couple o’ men in suits showed up at my door when I was ten tellin’ me that my daddy died and I now owned his big ol’ house and was in charge of more money than I was even capable of imagining… But I never wanted any of it, he’d never asked about how I was. He’d never written me a letter, he didn’t even bother to give me a name…”

Elvis gasped, and gently nudged my shoulder with his. “You have a house an’ a ranch an’ you’re still spendin’ your days with lil ol’ me? Why on earth would you join the circus if ya didn’t have to?”

I chuckled and looked at him, and I couldn’t help the smile that appeared on my face. “D’you have any idea how much fun I have here, E? I don’t think I’ve ever been happier in my whole damn life. I love bein’ your friend, and I take my responsibility of keeping you safe very seriously.”

He grinned back at me and nudged my shoulder again. “Well, if you’re tellin’ me that all that gorgeous ranch needs is a lil E.P., all ya gotta do is take me there. Ya got horses? I love horses.”

My smile faded a bit and I turned my gaze to the ground. “I ain’t never been to that house in California, I own it but… I was ten, an’ I didn’t wanna leave my Momma Willow. That was my home, it still is…”

Elvis was quiet for a few moments. “Y’ever think about sellin’ that ol’ place then, Jamie?”

I shrugged. “I’ve thought about it… I’ve thought about sellin’ it an’ usin’ the money to buy my Momma Willow a house…”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “But ya haven’t, why?”

“I was always taught to earn my money and earn my place, that hard work pays off and not to accept handouts. It just feels… It feels wrong to sell the house and use the money. I never touched a single cent he left me. He wanted nothing to do with me, and I want nothin’ to do with him.”

It didn’t seem like he fully understood, but he took my explanation at face value. “So, what do you plan on doin’ when we’re done ‘ere, Jamie?”

I shrugged and smiled at him. “Does my contract end at six weeks?”

He grinned back at me. “Not if ya don’t wanna leave.”

“Then I’m staying. Someone’s gotta keep you safe and outta trouble, E.”

He laughed. “Keep me safe, that all ya think about? What’re you, some kinda knockoff guardian angel?”

It was my turn to give him an offended look. “Knockoff? How dare you sir!”

“Don’t you call me sir! I ain’t that old!” He imitated my offended tone and gently shoved my shoulder with his.

“You deserve it, I ain’t no knockoff.” I couldn’t help but crack a smile, and I saw him fighting laughter.

We kept on talking on the roof for what felt like hours, learning almost everything there was to learn about each other. It strained my heart a bit knowing I’d never be able to be fully honest with him about myself, but I hoped someday I’d be able to. We headed inside when the sun started to get low, and he invited me to have dinner with him and Priscilla. The night ended with wine and hugs and excitement for the concert the next day.

I went to bed with a smile on my face, and an inferno blazing in my heart.

[asinglemagpie]

Today has surprised me over and over.

We dropped the car off at the dealership to have them figure out what was going on with the climate control. It’s been needing to be seen to for about 6 months, but life went hella wonky so it got put on the back burner. I talked mum out of using our usual guy (who admitted he had no idea what he was doing and would need to take the whole dash apart..?!?!) and that it was worth going to people who deal with these cars all the time. Of course when I found out it was £130 just for them to look at the car, I was feeling like I was pushing us towards doom.

First good sign was the courtesy car wasn’t confusing to drive - though in part because we’d handled a new Juke before, when we were there the first time on a recall repair.

We got home, we got settled. I had breakfast and made iced coffee for the first rime (delish), then vacuumed the stairs (the hoovers were all charged).

Gas check dude turned up. New company, so it was interesting how different he was from the usual guys we used to have. He had a few troubles taking the case off the boiler, but all the tests came back totally fine, so that got a clean bill of health for another 9 months.

While he was there we got the call that the car was done - they had been busy so they didn’t get to it until this afternoon, but it only took them an hour to diagnose and fix, so come and get it when you can.

We get there, park in the last parking spot, and go in. Turns out the reason it was so fast was because the entire problem was ONE WIRE. It needed soldering and clicking back into place. (My hunch that our usual guy accidentally did it when doing the annual service/MOT seems to be absolutely on point.) The guy said we only needed to pay for the man-hours used - £120 for the hour. (Honestly, £2 a minute seems pretty reasonable to me considering how much knowledge these people carry around to fix these things IN AN HOUR lmao.)

So we’re already in shock - we were expecting sensors and things needing to be replaced so around £500 in hours and parts. £120 on top of the £130 fee to just look at it is like... very much below the terrified expectation.

Then the guy comes out and holds out the card machine: “That’ll be £125.”

Mum’s going “Wait wait... what... are you sure?”

I’m going, “Shh, don’t question it, just pay it before he changes his mind.”

He’s going, “Just. £125“ in a very pointed manner.

So at this point we’re pretty much losing it mentally lmao. From the way it was pitched we’d be paying £250 total, and he’s giving us the earnest look to just pay the £5 less than “look at” fee and stop asking questions.

But I mean he was so nice to talk to (we chatted about Australia for a bit lol... long story) and then we paid a SIGNIFICANT amount less than we expected, and less than we were quoted... so we got the numbers for how much a full service and their MOT services cost, and with the courtesy car so Mum doesn’t miss work (because our usual place doesn’t do that, so she has to take the day off work) we’d be paying less than the overall cost it would usually be.

And it’s not to malign the usual place, they have been very good to us for a very long time, but the car is coming up to 6 years old, and the overall cost factor it’s just so worth putting her in the hands of people that know what they’re doing with this particular model of car.

We get to the car - they’d washed it! Washed it outside and did a brief clean inside too. Completely unexpected, and very appreciated because it needed doing XDD

Then we get home, sit back a second and then it’s time to cut my hair! I had decided that it’s summer, I want my hair off my face... so I got a Jamie Lee Curtis cut. Slightly longer in places because of my particular face, but at half the length it was, it was still quite a substantial chop! But I am so in love with it. Selfie on FB levels of in love lmao!

Then we got home, and tried the Slush Puppie blue raspberry ice-lollies and holy cow they are perfect. Gonna need to get so many more, and I need to hunt for the proper stuff to mix with crushed ice because I need it for summer.

So... yeah... honestly so relieved at how well today went!

[denimbex1986]

'After a brilliantly blossoming career that has seen her scoring films and solo releases of her stunning modern classical music, Emilie Levienaise-Farrouch has achieved a massive high point with her original music for All Of Us Strangers, starring Andrew Scott and Paul Mescal. She chats to Headliner about her career so far and working on the BAFTA and Golden Globe-nominated film.

Before her film career fully blossomed, Levienaise-Farrouch sent a demo to Brighton’s Fat Cat records. Before long she was signed to their 130701 post-classical imprint, which is steeped in history as it was once home to the likes of Max Richter, Hauschka and the late Jóhann Jóhannsson. Her most recent release with the label is her stunning album Ravage, which dropped in 2022.

On the other side of her career, Levienaise-Farrouch is rapidly establishing herself as one of the film industry’s go-to composers following her work on the critically acclaimed Rocks in 2020 and the Bill Nighy-starring Living in 2022, as well as several other films. She’s no stranger to the stage either, having performed at the Barbican, Union Chapel, as well as having new music premiere at the BBC Proms...

Her commitment to honing her sound and craft so that filmmakers would seek her out based on her music, rather than the types of films she has scored, paid off immensely when she got the call for All Of Us Strangers.

Thanks to a compelling, reality-bending story and brilliant performances from Andrew Scott, Paul Mescal, Claire Foy and Jamie Bell, the film has garnered multiple BAFTA and Golden Globe nominations.

Levienaise-Farrouch explains how, in a film like All Of Us Strangers, the performances from the actors play a huge role in shaping the music she composed for the film.

“I like to mirror the intensity of the acting,” she says. “With All Of Us Strangers, because it's such a delicate and subtle film, I didn't want to have a score that would be bombastic and huge and imposing. Andrew Scott’s emotional states in the film are so fragile; I was so affected by how detailed his performance is. It's so subtle, but there are some very small hints of a shift in him at some moments when the camera lingers on him.”

Indeed, with Scott’s character being a reclusive screenwriter who begins visiting his childhood home and encountering his parents, looking just as they did before they suddenly died 30 years earlier, a bombastic orchestral score was not going to fit the bill.

“I still wanted to have some acoustic instruments,” Levienaise-Farrouch says. “There's cello, violin and piano. I performed the synths on the score while watching the film to have this human touch. And if you bring live instruments and musicians, it adds so much variation and emotion to the score. But we wanted to manipulate the acoustic parts enough so that they were like a dream or a memory.”

And for any synth-heads keen to know which instruments found their way onto the score, Levienaise-Farrouch reveals:

“I have the Sequential Take 5, which is a lovely little synth, and the Moog Sub 25. And it might seem funny to say because it’s such a cheap little synthesizer, but I used a lot of the MicroKorg on this film! It’s a pretty common synth, but I love the patches I’ve developed on it over the years and you can create some beautiful sounds on it.”

As is the nature of the film industry, Levienaise-Farrouch isn’t at liberty to divulge what her next projects are, only allowing the tidbit: “It’s a very vocal and choral-heavy score — you’ll know it when you hear it!”

But let’s not concern ourselves too much with that, the pressing matter is to go see the beautiful All Of Us Strangers and listen to the phenomenal score on repeat.'

[the-firebird69]

We open a new lawsuit on rick cessarri

His responsible for tons of stuff and our son's life and yours it's wrong this fight out front was John remillard is due to him to fight his brother almost died or well uncle Brian with the humans was because of Ricky surgery now and just several other fights and other things that would hurt that occurred because of him and he was Michael federman and he killed his wife's mother and it was known too by others and she went to Will and Bill loud and said I need your help he said who sent you she said that CAA said I could come over I said okay let's hear it and he said she said this man is killed my mother and I don't know how to prove it or to do anything and he's imitating you too he said we care about the second and we care about the first and we'll figure it out for you you may go contact you so they did a throw a job. And I figured out something cuz I'm starting fights and getting people to do things all over the neighborhood and they figure out who he is and he's not Jamie chomo. Well that's who he is. And man is he an a****** it's an a****** who started all this trouble now you started trouble with me directly he said to him in the mall you killed Mrs fetterman's mom because you're Mr fetterman so I can get you put in jail if you'd like so Jason left in tears so he doesn't want me to help him it doesn't want to screw around with him they didn't figure it out of something it's been getting and fights and stuff is that really mad and started to train attack you heard you say it to if you keep that up. I'm just going to kill you and he didn't pay any money so you ate this and paid me five bucks and it still owe me a dollar I said pay me money nothing you don't have any money to pay me well you go to jail

So you didn't think anything of it and it still doesn't because he's a prick and he's made a mental too put in the mental hospital student all sorts of stuff to him. And one day he said this I'm not going to put up with him harassing me and all sudden he says where are you people that you doing all this walked around the corner and smashed him right in the face and broke his face and we're not going to put up with you anymore to go away gave him a new brain.

Is the grandchild of bja and it's messing with PGA all the time too I said one of those three could be him and it was and they looked and they saw saying no it's not and they told him we were getting out of here now he said no. He was going to try and shove bjA and you said get back over there with the ax and said no I said yeah... And it was Jamie chomo and he went up to the top of burnt Hill and he cut his own foot off and that's where our son had to throw his dog's ashes it was a different dog but that's what happened and yes Jamie cholo's kid same thing in New Hampshire Jamie chomo's kid was thrown in the ocean little check that Jason I didn't switch it out but you certainly deserve it you certainly do you aren't in human a******. If it's your kid I'm going to kill you cuz you're going to be a dick that's what I like to do you notice that I do it and I wipe out clans let me know what's that it's your turn now for you to leave Chris is probably back to the work right and you're an a****** to me cuz you're a f****** is that right little f****** so go be a Jew and go check. As you usually are with me and really you're easily entertained. The ashes are just off the jetty I'm sure that he put them in a certain spot it doesn't care about your claim though you care if you do if someone was mixed in there with him which is really sacrilege I don't know if it's true I'm told that one of his kids and yeah they're older kids stupid s*** let's put it in there but that's what he is Mr kid and Mr winne and those are sons of Max by the way.

Zues Hera

Who's going to find out cuz that being said most of this is them cuz that's what it says

Jason

Well I thought you had a profitable skam doing here instead I mean when does it f****** have to matter right at the last second you'll never prepare for what's after idiot

Zues Hera

Well we're sorry we didn't listen and it's very stupid and wrong but we got a big problem now and we have to handle it no s*** Sherlock CAA says to me you got a big problem cuz you caused it like criminal negligence and vice attacking me you made it much worse just as I said thousands of times a month I mean what the f*** dude you're dead because you don't listen to someone saying no no the math is this and the most brilliant adventure on Earth and you like can't figure that out c a a adds. But it really sounds stupid when you say it like that

Jason

[noctumbra]

❝scars❞

summary ─ “jamie,” you whispered, and bucky─ he sobbed quietly at first. His chin was trembling slightly, eyes were now red and his nose was tingling. “oh, jamie,” you murmured as you ran your hair on his face gently, so gently.

pairing ─ roommate!bucky barnes x reader

warnings ─ smut, +18, angst, mentions of nightmares and scars, mirror sex, body worship, sarge kink, oral sex, bucky fucks like an animal, also my fav position like holy shit skdfjskjfs

a/n ─ this... IS LONG and shouldn’t have had angst in it but well *shrugs* hope you like it!! seven days late, but better late than never right? please leave a comment if you like it! thank you <333

KINKTOBER DAY ELEVEN: roommate!bucky + body worship + mirror sex + daddy sarge kink

When you came home after a very tiring school day, you found Bucky lounging on the couch and flipping through the channels.

He looked sick, pale; his mid-length hair sticking to his face, t-shirt was sweat soaked, his sweatpants had stains on them and his face. God, his face looked haunted. The purple-ish dark circles under his eyes were deeper and more prominent now; they had a haunted, wounded look in them. His lips looked bitten harshly; they were very red and swollen, and bleeding just a little. His cheekbones were more visible than a week ago. It looked like he lost a lot of weight in the span of two days.

Feeling your heart broke, you hung your coat and toed your boots off. You were making noise intentionally; scaring him was the last thing you could ask for him right now. So, you moved onto the small kitchen you shared, dropping your bag on the tiny table, you made a move towards the coffee machine that was chirping happily.

“Hey,” you called out softly only to get a grunt in return. It was not his day, you realized. You sighed. It never stopped you before and you weren’t about to start shying away. “You want some coffee?” You asked, “Or I could make you your tea? Lavender?” Bucky didn’t say anything. Sighing again, you put your cup on the counter, making your way to Bucky.

“Bucky?” His eyes flicked to yours for a second, but he averted them quickly. He knew that you could tell that he was not okay, knew that that was why you were acting like he was something fragile.

He hated it.

He hated being so fragile, weak, and broken. He wanted everything to be okay, but things he saw and did… They didn’t let him be. They were haunting him every day of his miserable life, and you were witnessing it.

“Hey,” he heard you call out to him again, so soft and loving. Bucky felt like he could cry like a baby, so he just pushed the tears back and clenched his jaw. “Jamie,” you whispered, and Bucky─ He sobbed quietly at first. His chin was trembling slightly, eyes were now red and his nose was tingling. “Oh, Jamie,” you murmured as you ran your hair on his face gently, so gently.

Bucky didn’t deserve your gentleness, or your kindness, really. Not after what he done overseas. Not after what he saw.

“Sssh,” you hushed him as you cradled his jaw in your warm palm. His stubble was tickling your hand a little, but you didn’t mind. He needed all the affection you could ever give to him. “C’mon,” you murmured, “Let’s get you out of these clothes and maybe give you a shower, shall we?”

“I’m not a baby or a cripple,” he whisper-snarled.

“I know,” you agreed. “You’re not a baby or a cripple. You’re Jamie; you can do whatever you want on your own if that’s what you wish.” You stroked his cheekbone. It felt too sharp under your finger. “You’re also my friend,” you whispered, “No, you’re more than a friend; you’re my only family, Jamie. Families take care of each other when it’s needed.” Bucky sniffed. “Let me take care of you?”

He couldn’t say no. It’d be a dishonor to say no, especially when you were being so patient and kind with him. You were also right; you were a family.

“Okay,” he whispered and let you help him off the couch. Both of you walked towards the bathroom with quiet steps. Bucky was slightly shaking in your arms; the effect of his nightmare was still present in his mind. When you reached the bathroom, you helped him sit on the toilet after you closed the lid.

“I’m gonna bring you some clothes, okay?” You asked him while you turned the water on. Bucky nodded slowly. “I’ll be right back,” you whispered and squeezed his hand. You quickly made your way to his room; opening his closet, you pulled out his softest sweatpants and t-shirt, also grabbed one of his clean boxer briefs.

Bucky looked up as he heard you come back. You were holding clean clothes and his towels in your hands. You placed them onto the washing machine and turned to him. He knew this part. He needed to get out of his clothes. He didn’t want to, but he had to.

“Jamie…” You whispered.

“I know,” he murmured. He closed his eyes and sighed. It wasn’t that you hadn’t seen him without a shirt before, you had. This shower thing wasn’t your first rodeo. Sighing again, Bucky gripped the hem of t-shirt and pulled it over his head. His scarred arm was hurting badly; he had dug his nails very deep while trapped in the nightmare, there were some bad nail marks on his forearm. Bucky discarded the t-shirt somewhere in the bathroom and stood up to shed his sweatpants. Now he was realizing that his clothes were really filth; his habit of ignoring to face with himself after a nightmare made him also ignore the filth that the nightmare usually brought with itself. “Yuck,” he whispered to himself, but you heard it. Chuckling softly, you moved towards the tub to check the water. It was the right amount of lukewarm; leaning towards hot more than cold, Bucky hated cold things.

“Water is ready,” you announced, stepping aside so that Bucky could get in the tub. He did, partially hiding his arm and his private areas ─ not that you hadn’t seen it before. Bucky groaned softly as he lowered himself into the water. All the tension in his muscles was slowly going away with the warm hug of hot water and he thanked you softly. “Anytime, Jamie,” you answered him cheekily. “Now, wet your hair a little so that I can wash it for you.”

The bath went on without a hitch; Bucky had let you wash his hair, even let you use the conditioner, and he helped you while you were washing his body.

You remembered your first times with him.

You were desperate for a cheap-priced room because the girls which you shared your dorm room with were bitches and hated you with their guts. When you saw his ad on the newspaper, you almost screamed because the offer was exactly what you were looking for: two room and one living room, separate bathrooms, tiny but practical kitchen. All the bills and grocery shopping were to be paid fifty-fifty. The place was close to your campus, too. You were only a little hesitant about the other room being belong to a man, but you had handled with it by installing new locks both on your room’s and the bathroom’s door after you signed the contract.

The man said that he had been away, overseas. He did four tours in Afghanistan and Iraq, had been dumped on the unforgiving cold of Siberia. At the very least, his last tour had almost caused him to lose an arm, though he had very heavy scarring on his left arm and less heavier one on his left thigh. His chest was filled with small scars, too.

He wasn’t a bad guy, though. He was actually a sweetheart made of cold stares and war-built huge muscles. He looked intimidating, you had decided on after a month you had spent with him. He was also a funny and smart guy, a gentleman really.

You’ve been sharing this small apartment with him for three years now.

“Mmm,” You heard him hum happily as you combed his hair. You could see his reflection on the mirror. You moved onto your room because his bed was filthy and you didn’t want to leave him alone even for a minute. You had a body length mirror in front of your bed, and you were sitting on the bed while he was on the floor, between your legs.

“Your hair is always so soft even though you’re shit at taking care of it,” you grumbled silently. Bucky chuckled, shoulders trembling slightly.

“It’s the genes, honey,” he said, feeling a lot more like himself. You smiled.  You ran the comb in his soft and long hair while humming to yourself contently. The genes he was talking about were strong and pretty, you realized. He had this beautiful shade of blue eyes, very kissable lips and a handsome face. You were actually very surprised when you learned that he had been single ever since he had joined the army which happened when he was eighteen and he was thirty-three now.

“You’re beautiful, you know,” you said, watching his reaction through the mirror. Bucky scoffed. “You are, Jamie,” you insisted. “Your hair and eyes and lips… You have a very handsome face that most of the girls I know would fall in love with. Those freckles,” you ran the tip of your fingers on the bridge of his nose and his cheekbones. “They’re absolutely adorable. So is the dimple on your chin. I know you hide it with your beard, but you shouldn’t. It gives you a different kind of look.” You put the comb aside as you locked eyes with him on the mirror. His eyes were wide and surprised; he didn’t expect getting these kinds of compliments from you it seemed.

“You’re very self-conscious when it comes to your body,” you started gently as you peeled the towel off his shoulders. His fingers went lax and he let you put the towel aside. “You have a beautifully toned body, Jamie. These muscles were earned with hard-work, not with steroids. You gained them when you were saving innocent people and killing the ones that maybe deserved to be killed.” You ran your fingers on his biceps, feeling them shudder slightly under your touch. One of your hands moved to his chest while the other stayed on his left arm.

“These scars? They’re telling me that you’ve made sacrifices for the people you have save or tried saving,” you murmured and kissed his cheek. “They tell me that you almost died while saving those people.” Your hand on his left arm tightened just a little, making him understand that you were talking about what happened on his last tour. “All the scars on your body tell me a story, Jamie. They make you a badass and a hero in my eyes. A brave man who risked his live just to save the others.” You heard him took a sharp breath before the soft sob escaped his lips.

Kissing his cheek again, you moved the hand on his chest south. “You think you don’t deserve good things such as love and kindness. Honey,” you whispered. “You’re one of those people who deserve them the most.” You grabbed his chin and turned his face to yours. His eyes were red but dark, pupils dilated. This was both touching and arousing for him, you knew it. “You deserve to feel good.” Your thumb stroked his cheekbone gently. “You deserve to feel loved.” He leaned in just a little. “Jamie…” You whispered just before he kissed you.

The kiss felt like a huge, much needed breathe that you both refused to take for a long time.

Moaning into the kiss brokenly, both of you panted. Lips sliding on each other’s hungrily, Bucky turned his body to you between your legs, rising on to his knees. He cradled your face with his hands. Tilting his head to his side, his tongue licked a small line on your lips, gently asking for permission. With a whimper, you gave it to him. His tongue dove into your mouth, making you moan this time.

“Y/N…” he whimpered when you pulled away for oxygen. “I─ I really want this.” You nodded and kissed him on the lips chastely. “I want this a lot. You. I want you.”

“Me too,” you agreed. “God, Bucky, three years─” Bucky just whimpered brokenly and leaned in for another kiss. This time taking you in his arms, he lifted you and laid you down your bed. His body was on top yours, covering yours in a way that got your head all fuzzy with sweet feelings. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you pulled him down even more.

His right hand was on your jaw, cradling your face in his large palm gently. His other one was roaming all over your body. Stroking every single naked body part it could find, you shuddered under his body. His lips were so soft, so kissable, you moaned at the feeling of them against yours. They were stroking yours so nicely, you felt amazing. Loved.

“Jamie!” You mewled when he sucked on your bottom lip. His stubble covered face was now moving to your neck; you bared it to him by throwing your head back. You fisted his hair. Your fingers were gripping the soft locks harshly, Bucky gasped. His teeth clamped on your widely beating pulse and nibbled softly. “Fuck,” you breathed as his bite turned into a suck. He was marking you, and you were fucking loving it.

“Smell so nice,” he murmured against your skin. “Y/N, honey girl,” Bucky moaned when your hips thrusted up unintentionally. He pressed his own down, stopping you from moving. “It’s been a very,” Bucky chuckled, “very long time since I had sex. I don’t wanna come in, like, two seconds.” You giggled and watched his face for a short while, an idea was forming in your head slowly. You pushed at his shoulders a bit. Bucky frowned.

“Mirror,” you murmured, “Sit in front of the mirror for me?” Still frowning, Bucky did as you said. He got off the bed and sat in front of the mirror. You followed him a second later and helped him get out of the sweatpants. Also taking his boxer briefs off, you slid your hand over his bare chest. You felt his muscles shudder under your fingers and you smirked. “Let me help you to let some steam off, okay?”

Breathlessly, Bucky nodded. You laid on your stomach after you positioned him in a way where he could see what you were going to do to him through the mirror clearly.

“Oh, fuck,” he whimpered when he realized what you were up to. You winked at him and kissed one of the scars on his chest.

“Relax,” you murmured. You smirked again when you heard him chant curse words under his breath. You lowered your head and took a hold of his half-hard cock. Moaning softly at the feeling of him in your hand, you licked your lips before you placed a kiss on the top. His precum smeared all over your lips with one kiss, you hummed.  Bucky panted; his lips were parted and his eyes were glazed. You loved this look on him.

Winking at him again, you closed your lips around his cock head and sucked softly.

“Holy fu─” Bucky choked over his own moan and his hips bucked up to your face just a little. “Ha─! Shit, sorry, fuck, ‘m sorry.” Panting wildly, you stroked his thighs without stopping yourself from sucking his cock. You bobbed your head up and down a little; taking just a little bit more of him with each slide. His taste had your taste buds singing; the right amount of bitterness and something that was unique to him. You loved it. You pulled back and licked the throbbing, thick vein from bottom to top. Bucky whined loudly from the back of his throat, eyes pleading. You looked at him and keeping the eye-contact you closed your lips on his head again and sucked for real.

“Ah!” Bucky cried out loudly, head thrown back onto the bed. “God, fuck, yes…” He murmured softly. “I missed─ Ah!” You hummed around him; vibrations making him feel so good that Bucky knew that he was going to come very soon. He moaned, thrashed a little as you sucked him like a lollipop and whimpered. He forgot how a blowjob made him feel so freaking good. He forgot how it felt to have someone else touching him like this, giving him the pleasure and psychical contact that he had been missing like crazy for the past years.

“Y/N…” He whimpered your name softly. “’m gonna come,” he warned, “Fuck, ‘m so close, honey. Please.” You hollowed your cheeks and sucked even harder; your fingers found his tight balls and started to roll them, squeeze them gently. Bucky shouted and whimpered, hips twitching. “Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck─” He couldn’t even warn you about coming; his orgasm hit him like a freight train and Bucky felt his whole body trembling violently, toes curling, before blacking out for a couple seconds.

You hummed throughout the whole thing softly. Having stopped playing with his balls, you just suckled at him. His cock was throbbing in your mouth while he was whining and moaning under his breath. You pulled off and started to jack him without an aim, just to bring him down. His eyes blinked open a couple seconds later. His skin was covered with a thin sheen of sweat, eyes so dark, you couldn’t even see the blue in them anymore. His cheeks were pink and he looked debauched in the best way possible.

“Hi,” he breathed, smiling tiredly, but wide. You smiled back at him.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” You asked. You knew it had been a long time for him, he just told you and you assumed since he wasn’t hooking up with anyone etc. You were worried just a little because it was his first orgasm in a very long time.

“’m… I feel amazin’,” he grinned. You chuckled, your worry melting away. Bucky grabbed your hand that was still on his cock and tugged you up from it. You went to him. Bucky wrapped his arms around your waist and hoisted you up on his lap, lips finding yours immediately. You breathed out a soft moan as his lips collided into yours. Kissing him felt incredible, having his warm body against yours… You were in heaven and you were going to enjoy it until the very end.

“I wanna be in you,” he whispered against your lips. Moaning, surprised, you nodded. “Can we, honey? Please?”

“Mmm, of course, Sarge,” you hummed, feeling him stiffen. You pulled back just a little, heart beating wildly because of the possibility that you might have fucked everything up by calling him Sarge. Then, he blinked and his face contorted into a dark version of before.

“Hmm,” he hummed at you back, approvingly. “Is that how things gonna be? You gonna call me Sarge to rile me up?” You chuckled; both relieved and surprised.

“Yeah, do you not want me to?”

“Oh, no. You are to keep calling me Sarge and nothing else,” he said, voice commanding. Giggling softly, you nodded.

“Yes, Sarge.” Bucky smirked at you and stroked your cheek. “Before we get into it for real, kiss me again?” His face softened a bit and he immediately complied. The next couple minutes were lost to kissing; heated and soft and chaste, all kinds, and undressing. By the time you stopped kissing, both of you were as naked as the day you were born. You felt your face heating up, you buried your face into the crook of his neck. Bucky trailed his fingers down your spine, making you shiver. Bucky held you tightly against his chest and he laid you in front of the mirror.

“I don’t think I can do slow,” he murmured. “Honey, you understand what I’m saying? I can’t do slow.” You nodded as you cradled his jaw, nails drawing shapes on his bare back.

“Yes, do it. Don’t be slow, Sarge, c’mon,” you urged him. Bucky’s face darkened like it did a short while ago. He leaned in kissed your lips chastely, and then he moved to your jaw. Peppering kisses to your breasts, Bucky took one into his mouth and sucked on it. You moaned sharply, hand slipping in his silky soft hair. One of his hands was kneading your breast while the other moved to your wet pussy. You cried out when his fingers brushed your swollen clit.

Bucky pulled back to moan. “Fuck, darlin’,” he groaned, “You’re fuckin’ drippin’. ‘s it all for me?” You nodded as you bit your lip to stay quiet. “No,” Bucky growled. “Lemme hear you.” His fingers flicked your clit harshly and you cried out with the sudden pain mixed with pleasure. “There ya go…” He murmured and his fingers ran up and down your pussy, getting his fingers wet. He was murmuring to himself, but you weren’t listening to him. His fingers were so close to where you were aching, but he wasn’t touching you.

“Please,” you whined.

“Please, what?”

“Sarge! Please!” He hummed and pulled his fingers back. You heard him fumble and then you felt his cock moving against your pussy. He groaned softly. “Please!” You begged again. Bucky just growled and he slid inside of you.

“Fuck─” He gasped and panted, hands slapping the ground next to your head, he towered over your pleasure-wrung body. “Tight,” he snarled between his clenched teeth. “Tight as fuck, holy shit, baby girl.” You hummed and whimpered, nails scratching his back and leaving red marks on his skin. “Yes,” Bucky said, “Touch me, mark me, baby, do it!”

You cried out as he pulled back and slammed back in harshly. You dug your nails into his meaty back, dragging them down, you held onto him tight. His hips were driving into you at a harsh, punishing pace, but both of you were loving it. His cock was hitting every spot that had you click every time you played with yourself. You cried out with each hit of his hips against yours. The slick sound of your meeting were filling the room, driving you both even crazier. Your head lolled to your side and you caught a glimpse of his sweat-slicked body moving on top of yours like an oiled machine and you gasped, back arching, you came on the spot.

“Wha─” Bucky gasped, too, with the sudden vice-like tightness around his cock. He lifted his head where he had buried into the crook of your neck and looked at you, surprised. You moaned as your legs shook. “Honey─” Your back fell back on the ground and you tried to catch your breath.

“The mirror,” you gasped, your clit was still throbbing wildly. Bucky groaned and closed his eyes for a second and then opened them again, eyes turning towards the mirror. A devilish smirk appeared on his face when he understood what just happened. He sat up on his haunches and he turned you onto your belly with one move.

“Fuck─” you moaned, “Bucky─” He slapped your ass once, the stinging pain reminding you what you did wrong. “Sarge. ‘m sorry, Sarge.” Bucky hummed and he manhandled your body towards the mirror. He pulled you up against his chest and placed his right arm on your stomach while his scarred one wrapped your shoulders. He sat back against the bed, taking the same position that you sucked him on.

“Look at the mirror, honey,” he murmured into your ear. You whimpered and did as he said. You gasped at the sight. You could see where your body ended and his had begun. You could see the throbbing thick vein of his cock disappearing into your abused-looking pussy. One of your nipples was pink from Bucky’s suckling and beard. Your neck was red because Bucky was hiding his face there before you came around his cock. You looked fucked thoroughly while you haven’t actually gotten around to it.

“Sarge,” you moaned. Bucky kissed the sensitive skin just beneath your ear and sucked on your earlobe.

“I know, darlin’,” he murmured. “Hold on tight.” You did, grabbing his arms around your body, you held tight, and he started to move.

His hips were thrusting upwards like a mad man; his balls were hitting against the slicked skin and creating an obscene sound, the muscles on his thighs were jumping with each thrust. Your pussy was making the slickest sounds, though. Your breath hitched as you moaned, and your head fell against his shoulder.

“Eyes on the mirror,” he ordered, and your eyes snapped open. You found his eyes on the mirror and looked into them. They had a wild look in them; something dark and desperate was lurking around. You moaned pitifully. Bucky grunted. The pace he was going at it became faster, and you knew that both of you were so close.

“Sarge─ Bucky!” You whined as his left hand sneaked towards your pussy and started to roll your clit between his fingers. Your eyes rolled back even though you tried to hold them on the mirror like you’ve been ordered to.

“Come,” he sneered, “Come for me, darlin’, c’mon.” His cock was driving and stroking deep, deep inside of you and you knew it wasn’t a hardship to do what he said. You screamed, shouted and cried out as you tightened around him and came for a second time. Bucky grunted behind you when your pussy squeezed him. His balls were hitting you more harshly; his cock was harder than before.

“Sarge!” You moaned, “Come for me, Sarge, please! Come in me, please, please!” You chanted as you dug your nails into his arm. Bucky gasped, a loud and raspy moan left his mouth and he came. His thighs twitching under you, you felt his cock throb. His thick come washing your walls, Bucky panted hotly behind you.

Both of you panted for a while, trying to get your breathings in control. You melted in Bucky’s strong embrace long before. He was lax behind you, and you were happy.

“We are doing this again,” he murmured, “and again, and again… After you let me take you out on a date, maybe?” You chuckled and looked at him over your shoulder. He looked sheepish and a little unsure. You knew it must be a bit hard for him to do so when you considered his past. You kissed his cheek.

“Of course,” you agreed easily. “Though, you don’t have to take me on a date to do this again and again… I won’t mind is what I’m sayin’,” you grumbled. It was Bucky’s turn to chuckle. He started to place kisses all over your shoulder, neck and cheek.

“Okay,” he said, voice quiet. You hummed happily as you buried yourself into his warm body even more. Then, you realized something.

“Sarge, huh?” You joked. Bucky groaned.

“Shut it,” he grumbled. “It’s─ bleh, whatever.”

“Yeah, okay,” you said, but the taste of having him blush because of your joking was too delicious. “But seriously, though. Sarge.”

Bucky growled and he laid you on the ground, over your belly as he covered your body with his large one. “I said shut it.” You looked at him with sparkling eyes.

“Why don’t you make me, Jamie boy?”

The twinkles in his eyes were nothing but promising.

[shuckinbeanz]

It's our Paradise, our War Zone

warnings/notes: Have some angst...in Enji's POV! I'll leave imagining what happens after the end to ya'll. And yes, Enji cries. He's divorced with Rei, been with Reader for a few years(because he's literally a DILF 🥵). He sucks it up and decides he should let you go because he loves the pretty young you too much to 'make you stay' with an old man past his prime like himself when you say you want to talk. But there's a twist; you wanted to announce you're pregnant and want to keep the baby...but you never get the chance to. Directly. Because he ends it. Also, the song itself is slightly sexually suggestive, just so ya'll know.

MINORS 👏 DNI! 👏 AGE 👏 IN 👏 BIO 👏 OR 👏 DNI! 👏 Head on over to @candybowbeansies please for my SFW pieces, or be blocked if you interact here! 😇

~Masterlist~

paradise, paradise ~ war zone, war zone <3

After his divorce with Rei years ago, he never expected to see someone again. He never knew he'd meet you, who caught his attention only a year later. He'd never admit it, but he was lonely.

He never expected you to butt into his gray world, all bright, bold, and as fiery as he was in his youth. The sweet, young you. He learned he liked sweet things, because of you. Decades younger than him. He didn't expect anything more than a one-time fling. Of all the things you were...you were persistent. It was cute, really, how you'd look up at him, bright eyed and bushy tailed. How you'd eventually outright flirt with him, thinking him too thick-skulled to pick up on your earlier subtle hints, because he could never find it in himself to reject your advances. You were stubborn. And he hates to admit it, but he liked that.

But what made him fall hard? Your sincerity. Your independence. You never let him pay for yours and his outings. You paid your bill, and he paid his. You made it clear, you were after him, and not his money. You weren't a gold digger, despite what others thought. You were far from it. And again, he'd never admit it, but he was a lonely old man.

So he let those days span into weeks. Those weeks span into months, and before he knew it, it's been a few years, now. You found a close friend in his ex-wife, and got along with his sons and daughter. You were perfect.

You were young.

You had so many years ahead of you. So many things you could do. So much you could achieve. And him? He was an old man way past his prime. It had always bothered him, despite your reassurances. The huge age gap.

One day, you contacted him. You wanted to talk about something. And this was when he resolved himself, telling you he wanted to talk with you, too.

You were deserving of so much more than him. He didn't want to keep shackling you down. He decided when you two were to meet, he'd end it.

And now, he's hunched over his desk, staring down at the papers you'd thrown away, stuck in an emotional war with himself of his own making.

You met with him in his office. You were so nervous. So happy. It pained him. In your hand was an envelope; something you wanted to deliver to him, personally. "Enji!~" you called out to him, with your saccharine voice. "Y/N." he replied.

He only ever knew how to fuck good things up, huh?

"I got something to tell you. I think it's good news, I--" "We need to end this."

He couldn't find it in himself to look at you. He could feel you deflate, like it was second nature to him.

"...End what?"

He hadn't answered. He was afraid he'd take what he said back.

Stupid, stupid...

"...Enji...?" your small voice rang, afraid.

The silence was deafening. He had hoped you'd get the gist and leave.

He was in love with you. You deserved so much more. That's why he had to let you go. That's why he couldn't let you stay.

The crinkling of the envelope, the wet wobbly sigh you released. The soft, resigned 'Okay...' that passed your lips, and your retreating footsteps that stopped at the door. You tossed the envelope into the bin, crumbled up, before opening the door, walking out, and closing it quietly.

He'd clenched his jaw, he'd fought with himself to not go to you. Tell you to stay.

He's fucked so many things up in his life.

He heard your soft sniffles on the other side of the door. Even though you're long gone, now, he could still hear them.

He's made so many decisions he regrets.

He had heard your footsteps retreating from his door.

But this decision tops the cake.

He releases a shaky sigh, closing his eyes. You flash behind his eyelids, as if you were tormenting him for what he did, hours earlier. He coldly sent you away. He inhales sharply, sliding his palms down to apply light pressure to his eyes, attempting to will away your image.

The tears he'd felt threatening to spill.

To no avail.

So, he wept. Silently, broad shoulders quaking, jaw clenched.

And on his desk laid the test results he'd retrieved from the bin after you threw them away. That you were so nervous and so happy to show him.

You tested positive.

He fucked up, yet again.

He couldn't do at least one fucking thing right, could he...?

You were pregnant with his child.

[candybowbeansies]

It's our Paradise, our War Zone

warnings/notes: Have some angst...in Enji's POV! I'll leave imagining what happens after the end to ya'll. And yes, Enji cries. He's divorced with Rei, been with Reader for a few years. He sucks it up and decides he should let you go because he loves the pretty young you too much to 'make you stay' with an old man past his prime like himself when you say you want to talk. But there's a twist; you wanted to announce you're pregnant and want to keep the baby...but you never get the chance to. Directly. Because he ends it. Also, the song itself is slightly sexually suggestive, just so ya'll know.

~Masterlist~

paradise, paradise ~ war zone, war zone <3

After his divorce with Rei years ago, he never expected to see someone again. He never knew he'd meet you, who caught his attention only a year later. He'd never admit it, but he was lonely.

He never expected you to butt into his gray world, all bright, bold, and as fiery as he was in his youth. The sweet, young you. He learned he liked sweet things, because of you. Decades younger than him. He didn't expect anything more than a one-time fling. Of all the things you were...you were persistent. It was cute, really, how you'd look up at him, bright eyed and bushy tailed. How you'd eventually outright flirt with him, thinking him too thick-skulled to pick up on your earlier subtle hints, because he could never find it in himself to reject your advances. You were stubborn. And he hates to admit it, but he liked that.

But what made him fall hard? Your sincerity. Your independence. You never let him pay for yours and his outings. You paid your bill, and he paid his. You made it clear, you were after him, and not his money. You weren't a gold digger, despite what others thought. You were far from it. And again, he'd never admit it, but he was a lonely old man.

So he let those days span into weeks. Those weeks span into months, and before he knew it, it's been a few years, now. You found a close friend in his ex-wife, and got along with his sons and daughter. You were perfect.

You were young.

You had so many years ahead of you. So many things you could do. So much you could achieve. And him? He was an old man way past his prime. It had always bothered him, despite your reassurances. The huge age gap.

One day, you contacted him. You wanted to talk about something. And this was when he resolved himself, telling you he wanted to talk with you, too.

You were deserving of so much more than him. He didn't want to keep shackling you down. He decided when you two were to meet, he'd end it.

And now, he's hunched over his desk, staring down at the papers you'd thrown away, stuck in an emotional war with himself of his own making.

You met with him in his office. You were so nervous. So happy. It pained him. In your hand was an envelope; something you wanted to deliver to him, personally. "Enji!~" you called out to him, with your saccharine voice. "Y/N." he replied.

He only ever knew how to fuck good things up, huh?

"I got something to tell you. I think it's good news, I--" "We need to end this."

He couldn't find it in himself to look at you. He could feel you deflate, like it was second nature to him.

"...End what?"

He hadn't answered. He was afraid he'd take what he said back.

Stupid, stupid...

"...Enji...?" your small voice rang, afraid.

The silence was deafening. He had hoped you'd get the gist and leave.

He was in love with you. You deserved so much more. That's why he had to let you go. That's why he couldn't let you stay.

The crinkling of the envelope, the wet wobbly sigh you released. The soft, resigned 'Okay...' that passed your lips, and your retreating footsteps that stopped at the door. You tossed the envelope into the bin, crumbled up, before opening the door, walking out, and closing it quietly.

He'd clenched his jaw, he'd fought with himself to not go to you. Tell you to stay.

He's fucked so many things up in his life.

He heard your soft sniffles on the other side of the door. Even though you're long gone, now, he could still hear them.

He's made so many decisions he regrets.

He had heard your footsteps retreating from his door.

But this decision tops the cake.

He releases a shaky sigh, closing his eyes. You flash behind his eyelids, as if you were tormenting him for what he did, hours earlier. He coldly sent you away. He inhales sharply, sliding his palms down to apply light pressure to his eyes, attempting to will away your image.

The tears he'd felt threatening to spill.

To no avail.

So, he wept. Silently, broad shoulders quaking, jaw clenched.

And on his desk laid the test results he'd retrieved from the bin after you threw them away. That you were so nervous and so happy to show him.

You tested positive.

He fucked up, yet again.

He couldn't do at least one fucking thing right, could he...?

You were pregnant with his child.

[wannabemobwife]

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas - Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Revenge Never Felt So Good

Dad!Mob!Tom x Mom!Mob!Reader

-Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader, Rosie Holland x Henry Osterfield

-Warnings: Guns, bombing, language, murder, blood, hints to smut (none actual smut), typos, shitty writing, torture I guess

-Words: 4.9K

A/n: Can we get back to mob stuff? Please. I want to apologize for this chapter, it is absolute shit and I could tell by writing it. Kind of a filler chapter. Sorry it is long.

Chapter 13: Revenge Never Felt So Good

Words: 4.9K

It had been a week, since you got your memories back and you declared your love for Tom once more. Right after that, you and Tom were on the first train to Paris, refusing to fly for awhile.

You and Tom returned last night, just in time to see Parker and Rosie off to school the next morning. While you and Tom had been enjoying a second honeymoon in the city of love, Nikki and Dom so graciously offered to watch the kids. Everything was falling back into full swing. Parker and Rosie were going to school regularly. Rosie spending all her time with Henry and Parker still living his secret double life.

Things going back to normal. Somewhat.

It was a typical morning, but anytime everyone every thinks that, something gets massively screwed up. You woke up early to make pancakes and bacon.

“So what is plan for everyone today?” You asked, sipping at your steaming cup of coffee.

“Well, Rosie and I have school,” Parker explained.

“I have plans with Henry,” Rosie chimed in.

“I have meetings all day, love.” Tom said, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek.

“Ok, so I’m all alone today,” you muttered, a little disappointed.

“I’m sorry darling, you could join me. You know much I love it when you sit in my lap during meetings. Really show them who’s boss,” Tom said, wrapping you in his embrace.

“No, it’s ok. I have some errands to run anyway.”

“Alright, angel. I love you. I’ll see you for dinner.”

“I love you too. Come on, kids. In the car we go.” You said, pushing everyone out the door.

“Why is Jared not driving?” Parker asked.

“Cause, I have errands to run and besides he’s driving your dad today.”

“Now let’s go.” You said as Parker and Rosie hopped into the car.

Tom was having a hard time returning to his mob personality. Some business was conducted in Paris, you tagged along and enjoyed every minute of it. Tom sometimes overcompensated for not being as dangerous and intimidating. He had grown soft taking care of you after the helicopter crash. Helping you get your memory took most of his time, he had to step away from the mob for awhile. But you were his top priority.

Tom couldn’t remember the last time he sat in his office doing business. He missed it. He missed the thrill of torturing someone, having them beg for their life in front of him. He missed the feeling of firing his gun.

“Tom, you’re late,” Haz said as Tom got out of the car.

“Sorry not sorry Haz, I enjoyed breakfast with Y/N and the kids this morning,” Tom responded.

“I have to tell you something.”

“What? It’s never good news if it’s right when I get here.”

“We’re down two more.” Harrison mumbled referring to then decreasing number of soldiers part of the Holland Empire.

“Are you fucking serious? Haz, I’m so fucking tired of this bullshit. My men are getting fucking killed. Everything has gone to shit,” Tom screamed, enraged.

“Tom, we’ll figure it out. Just need to keep your cool.” Haz said, trying to avoid Tom’s wrath.

“Easier said than done. Alright, who’s here,” Tom asked, trying to forget about everything else.

“William.” Haz said with a straight face.

“What? Why? He’s always been loyal,” Tom questioned. One of his most valuable men, working against him, the rat?

“I got word from the soldiers he has been taking bribes from Parker,” Harrison explained.

“What the fuck for? Well, I guess we’ll find out.” Tom said, walking into the main room of the warehouse.

“William, I’d never thought it would be you in this chair.” Tom said, walking up to one of his most trusted employees.

“Tom, you gotta believe me. I didn’t do anything. I’m not the rat,” William pleaded. He knew what had been happening to the mob.

“Did you or did you not take money from Parker?” Tom asked.

“Yes, he just wanted to get out of the manor at night. So, he paid me to turn a blind eye.”

“Where was he going?”

“I don’t know, I assumed to some girl’s house.” “William, I trust you. So I’m going to let you off with a warning, but you can’t let him sneak out anymore. I’m afraid we are being targeted. If he tries to leave, you have to tell me.”

“Yes, boss. I’m sorry.” William apologized.

“It’s ok, but you understand what needs to happen right? I can’t be looking like I’ve gone soft,” Tom asserted.

“Yeah, I can take it. It’s ok,” William said, gritting his teeth as he waited for the collision of Tom’s fist to his cheek. Tom winded up to deliver one swift punch to William’s left eye. Not breaking the skin but creating a dark purple blotch.

All of Tom’s frustrations have been channeled into his mob duties. Each punch riddled with anger and frustration. A release of catharsis combined with blood. Tom wears the smell of blood and death like a perfume.

The rest of the day was full of uneventful meetings. Meetings with business associates, actual business associates for the company.

When Tom came home, he planned to confront Parker about his whereabouts if he tried to sneak out again. Everyone retired, you went to sleep first and Rosie went to her room. Parker said, he was going to bed but Tom could see right through him.

Tom was sitting in the den, sipping a glass of watered down whiskey. Waiting for his son to disobey him. At 11:55 PM, Parker made his way downstairs ever so slightly. Only to be met with the dagger eyes of Tom.

“Where the fuck do you think you are going?” Tom asked as Parker tried to sneakily leave.

“I… I thought I heard noise outside and I’m going to go check on it,” Parker stammered. Getting caught by Tom was not part of the plan.

“Oh, ok. Parker the guards can do that. Go back to bed.” Tom said, turning back to the TV in the den, broadcasting Raiders of the Lost Ark.

“Ok. Night, dad,” Parker said, trudging himself back up the steps.

“Night…. I know, you’re lying,” Tom whispered loud enough for Parker to hear.

“What? I’m not lying.”

“Parker, I know you’ve sneaking out for weeks and bribing William.”

“Dad, I’m sorry,” Parker immediately started apologizing, no bother in trying to lie himself out of this one.

“Why have you been sneaking out?” Tom questioned, seething with anger but refusing to show it. Trying to have a mature adult conversation.

“I’ve been going to a girl’s house, her name is Jamie.”

“Oh, glad you find someone. You know after everything with Charlotte,” Tom replied.

“Well since I told you the truth, can I go? We made the plan a couple days ago and don’t want to cancel,” Parker lied.

“Alright, just be back before sunrise or your mother will have may head,” Tom informed him.

“Thanks dad, you should get some sleep,” Parker said, making his way out of the heavily guarded house.

Parker left as quickly as possible. He knew Wilson would be pissed for him being late. The talk with Tom was not how this was supposed to happen.

He couldn’t betray his family and himself anymore.

Parker hoped this was the last time he would have to talk to him. He planned to quit, after the conversation with Dom. Parker had become everything he hated, someone who kills for sport.

“Wilson, this is the last thing I’m doing then, I’m out,” Parker said, walking towards Wilson.

“We’ll talk about it later, my boy,” Wilson said, patting Parker’s shoulder.

“Alright who am I killing? You never gave me a target.” Parker shouted at Wilson walking.

“Oh, this isn’t a hit, it’s a robbery. Here’s your new firearm,” One of Wilson’s men explained, tossing a MP5K at him.

“You okay kid? You know if you’re too much of pussy the boss might understand,” jeered one of the men as Parker gulped at the size of the weapon.

“Fuck you, I’m fine. Let’s just get this over with,” Parker barked, trying to put his mind aside. He has never done anything like this. It wasn’t just one person he was killing, it was the possibility of having many causalities. Altering his persona from a hitman to a mass murderer.

A million thoughts flooded Parker’s mind. He wouldn’t be killing people who deserved it like before, contract killers or drug dealers, these were innocent people. Stupid people for gambling all their hard earned money away but nonetheless innocent.

Parker’s heart nearly stopped when he saw where the van pulled up to. A place he knew all too well, it was one of Tom’s casinos.

The company that Dom had built, but all the Holland boys sent thriving in the new century, was more than it seemed. Holland Exportation and Luxuries was much more than exporting goods.

It was casinos that ran all along the French Riviera, more specifically Monaco. It was hotels across the entire globe. It was a business but not the family one. More of a front for the mob but it paid the bills. Harry and Sam had been in charge of running and establishing the hotels and casinos across Europe.

“Y’know your way around, right? That’s why the boss put you on this.” One of men asked Parker as he fiddled with his new machine gun.

“I guess so.” Parker replied.

“Here’s a map. Where are the guards? Which posts?” Asked a soldier, pointing to the main entrance hallways, where security was sure to be.

“I don’t know.”

“So we’re going in there fucking blind? Fuck, thought you’d be good for something. Just stay out of our way,” yelled one of the capos.

“No. I’m taking point. If you have a problem, you can fucking talk to me about it along with my Glock,” Parker threatened.

“Alright. Don’t screw this up. The boss wants big bucks from this. Says “it’s step two in the fall of the empire.” Whatever the fuck that means.”

“On my count, 1, 2… 3,” Parker screamed.

They came storming in, barricading all the entrances and exits. Parker and Wilson’s men clad in all black and payday masks. All various colors and designs. They looked as they were trick or treating.

This was the last thing Parker wanted to be doing. He came today to quit and now he was robbing a casino.

Parker kept repeating a mantra in his head “Last one, then I’m done” as held his gun high. Pointing it directly at innocents, he could see them shaking in fear.

“EVERYONE ON THE GROUND NOW!” He shouted, aiming his machine gun high.

“Don’t you fucking touch that button. I know what it fucking does.” Parker barks at the person behind the token counter. “Open the vault.” Parker said, pointing the gun at him.

“Why should I?” remarked the worker.

“Cause I fucking said so and I’m threatening your life,” Parker explained

“Enough of this shit!” He screamed, firing a few rounds close to the worker but not hitting him.

“You don’t have to do this. You could walk out of here, all of you. And we could go on with our lives. No need for money or the cops.”

“I think we both know that’s not gonna happen. I’ll ask nicely, please open the vault,” Parker mocked. “Boss said “start killing hostages in 10 minutes.” One of the other men whispered in Parker’s ear.

“Did you fucking hear that? We’re gonna fucking kill you if you don’t cooperate. So I suggest you open… the fucking… vault.”

“Sir, we can’t.”

“See this gun. LOOK AT IT! It has the power to put a bullet through your skull. Open the fucking vault. I won’t ask a fifth time.”

“That’s it. Now, type in the code.” Parker directed towards them.

The vault door creaked open, revealing trappings of pure wealth. Money stacked on tables, almost reaching the ceiling. And gold bars, glistened as the light reflected off of them.

“Now was that so fucking hard. Take all of it. Everything, even the gold.” Parker said, directly towards his men.

“Thank you, you’ve served you purpose,” Parker said to the worker, shooting him dead not even 3 seconds later. The screams of the other hostages echoed through the vacated room.

“Now to everyone here, there’s already one dead. I don’t mind making it more,” Parker barked.

“What’s your name?” Parker asked the nice looking girl kneeling on the ground.

“It’s not nice to not answer when someone asks you question, especially someone with a 9 caliber MP5K in your face. I ask again. What’s your name?” Parker spoke.

“Jane,” she whispered, shaking with fear.

“Well Jane, I want to thank you for your cooperation. You are in charge of talking to the cops, ok? And let your boss know, that Wilson is always watching,” Parker said, as he turned to leave.

“I will but you won’t get as far as you hoped,” Jane asserted, trying not to irritate Parker.

“And why’s that?”

“I know you. I remember you. You’d come in here with your dad.”

“You don’t know fucking shit!” Parker screamed.

“I know your name and that puts me at a high position of power,” Jane expressed, growing less afraid by the second. Realizing he is just some scared boy. Maybe not afraid of his own shadow but broken down by the fear of the world.

“I’m the one pressing fucking gun to your head. I HAVE ALL THE POWER!” Parker vociferated loud enough to shake the chandelier hanging above.

“You wish. Men like you always wish.”

“Seems like you’re doing some wishing yourself sweetheart. Wishing to be escorted out of here in a body bag. Now shut your fucking trap.”

“Hey. Let’s go. Leave her.” One of the Wilson’s men said, pulling Parker towards the exit.

“He still loves you and he’ll forgive you for this,” Jane shouted as Parker left.

Refusing to turn back, he had taken enough lives from this ill attempt at revenge. Parker didn’t know who he was fighting against anymore. Who was the hero and who was the villain?

All the wrongdoings as vast as the sea. All his attempts to make someone pay were misconstrued. Who actually deserved it?

The words of the woman replayed in Parker’s head. She was like a broken record, forcing him to listen to a truth he hoped to forget. How could Tom forgive him? Parker knew what he done was unforgivable. It was a mistake, all of it.

Parker marched into Wilson’s office and said, “Ever since I started working for you, my family has been in danger. I thought my dad was the reason for my girlfriends death, but I was wrong. I guess I’ll never know. Here Wilson, my gun. I quit.”

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? I own you. I could end you, boy. Just like I almost did your parents,” Wilson barked.

“What?” Parker questioned, a look of confusion are on his face.

“Oh, please. You really think it was just a malfunction,” Wilson scoffed.

“What are you talking about?” Parker asked.

“Their helicopter. Pretty brilliant work, if I do say so myself,” Wilson gloated.

“They almost died.”

“Yeah and so? Your dad is my enemy. That is the whole reason you came to me in the first place.”

“You promised you wouldn’t hurt them,” Parker screamed. “Promises are meant to be broken. They don’t call me the Merchant of Death for nothing.”

Wilson was ready for the fight and been the one pulling the strings the entire time. Tom warranted no quarrel. Never being the instigator in a fight with Wilson.

They had been divided for years to come, focusing on their separate mobs. Only acknowledging each other if they accidentally crossed paths. There was Wilson’s mob, then a few others scattered round London such as Graham’s which was almost non-existent and Shaw’s which was mostly the drug scene. But Wilson was Tom’s biggest competitor. Being a part of then game for years before didn’t matter, Tom eclipsed Wilson just like the sun does the moon.

Or the moon to the sun, that was exactly Wilson’s play from the start. Taking out the pillars of Tom’s life. First a reason to have his son turn on him, the death of a loved one. Next, removing you from Tom’s grasp. Eventually a play had to be made on Rosie. Leaving Tom utterly alone.

Only thoughts that would cross his mind be suicidal ones, having lost everything he ever cared about. It was a long play, one Wilson vowed to see through. Wilson saw all his work as justice and merciful. Almost biblical, they way everything was playing out.

“It was you. All along. The fucking puppet master,” Parker mumbled under his breath.

“If you are talking about your little girlfriend, that was strictly business, nothing personal. But yes, I have been the one behind the scenes driving your father mad. Remember the note?” Wilson exclaimed.

“She didn’t deserve to die,” Parker shouted.

“What? Are you really upset? That was ages ago. Plus, I had to get you on my side somehow,” Wilson teased.

“Wait, you knew I’d come here?”

“Parker, how stupid are you? When will you grow up and learn this rivalry is just the beginning of a war. What side are you going to be on? You have a choice. I’ve warmed to you and I want you on my side as I take your daddy down.”

“That’s your first fucking mistake don’t have any weaknesses,” Parker admitted, taking a lesson from Tom. He drew is gun, point blank at Wilson.

“Parker, what are you doing? Put the gun down,” Wilson pleaded for his life.

“No, you made me into a cold blooded killer. Not my dad. I quit.”

BANG

After a loud thud sounded, the room was silent. Only a faint smell of smoke from the gun was there as Parker fled as quickly as possible.

Parker made his way home that night a changed man. All his kills in the pass were strictly business. Never driven by emotion but this one was personal.

It wasn’t a job or a hit. He was no longer a contract killer. Killing for the sake of money or an obligation. He was cold blooded killer.

In some twisted way, Parker enjoyed Wilson and his company. Looking up to him. He was then one who saved him from the horrible life he thought he was leaving behind. The one full of deceit and betrayal. The one with Tom, you and Rosie.

The one that led him to be next leader of the Holland mob. The one that resulted in the death of his beloved girlfriend. The one that had almost taken you and Tom away from him. The one that almost took his life. The one that forced him to kill for sport.

But no, he was wrong Parker brought that on himself. Parker’s naivety was his greatest enemy. He was just a child not too long ago. Once afraid of his own shadow, then afraid of failing at life and school, especially the SATs. Now, he was an adult burdened by problems a 16 year old should ever face. He could sit there and blame Tom, but it would do him no good when all he had to do was look in the mirror.

Parker was his own worst enemy. Searching for justice, when none could be found in a world wear mobsters roamed. Causing shootouts, robbing banks, and killing innocent people. People deserved to be avenged and Parker sure as hell wasn’t doing anything to aide.

Parker drove home, took four showers and threw his clothes away. Anything to wash off this abhorrent day. The next morning, Parker went on like nothing had changed. As if he didn’t shoot his boss and Tom’s rival in cold blood. As if didn’t only see himself as a cold blooded killer. Everything that he is and everything he owns soiled with the scent of murder.

He played it as though it was any other morning. Eating his pancakes and bacon before starting the day. Telling you about his plans for the day. Trying to keep his cool. The lovely morning breakfast conversation was interrupted once Tom’s phone rang.

RING, RING, RING

“Haz, why are you calling me? I’m having breakfast with my family,” Tom asked, annoyed his precious breakfast was interrupted. “Charlie is here, you need to get here. I have to tell you something,” Haz informed Tom. “Ok, I’m on my way,” Tom said, brushing off the request. Why would the

company’s electrical engineer for aeronautical transportation be there?

“Love, I’m so sorry but I’m needed at the warehouse. Thank you for this wonderful breakfast, wish I could enjoy it. Bye, kids. Have a good day at school,” Tom said, making his way out the door. Bidding you all goodbye.

“Haz, what’s was so urgent that I couldn’t finish my breakfast.” Tom barked, annoyed he was pulled away from you and the kids even on a Saturday.

“We were robbed last night. The casino.” Haz explained, his head hanging low.

“How the fuck? Did they catch them?” Tom seethed with anger.

“No, we do have eye witnesses though.”

“How much is missing?”

“About 11 million dollars, from cash to gold bars.” Haz said, waiting for Tom to explode.

“FUCK. We need to make them pay. I’m done playing fucking games.” Tom shouted, calming himself down for his meeting with Charlie.

“Now, you said Charlie was here, right?”

“Yeah, in your office.”

“Charlie? What are you doing here?” Tom asked, a little annoyed he was taken away from his morning with his family.

“Tom, I ran my report and did diagnostics tests and it’s not good,” Charlie started.

“What the fuck does that mean, Charlie?” Tom yelled.

“I think the helicopter was sabotaged.”

“What? You mean is that someone tried to take out my wife and I while we were on a helicopter,” Tom repeated, making all the connections necessary .

“Yes, it wasn’t just a normal malfunction. Did they ever find the pilot?” Charlie asked.

“No… Jesus fucking christ, if it’s true then…Fuck, I’m sorry I have to go,” Tom yelled, running out to the car.

“Jared, home now.”

“Mr. Holland is everything alright?” Jared asked, concerned by Tom’s frantic manner.

“No. I just found out the helicopter was sabotaged. I think someone might being trying to take out Y/N and I.”

“Come on baby, pick up,” Tom whispered, frantically dialing your number over and over.

“Y/N answer the god damm phone!” Tom shouted, when heard the same voice message over and over again, “Hi, this Y/N Holland please leave your name and number and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”

“God fucking dammit. Fuck, voicemail. Jared do you know where my wife is?” Tom yelled, afraid what your silence meant.

“Last I heard she was at the store getting groceries,” Jared explained.

“Fuck, I have here location on my phone. Change course,” Tom barked, praying you were okay. With the information he just learned he didn’t want to leave you alone, not even for a second.

“Y/N! You’re okay.” Tom said, inhaling a breath of relief. You were coming out of the store pushing a cart of groceries.

“Tom! Of course, I’m okay. What are you doing here?” You asked.

“I’ll explain later. Get Parker and Rosie we need to go home now.”

“They’re already home. Henry’s there also. You’re scaring me.” You said, Tom never acts like this.

Being a part of a mob there is a constant fear of someone behind you. All throughout Tom’s life he only had to worry about himself until he met you.

Tom’s worst fear is him being the reason you no longer walk the earth. The last week he had glimpse of life without you and didn’t care for it one bit. You weren’t a weakness but at the same time, you were. For anyone with a dangerous job there’s always a target on your back.

“Come on, love. In the car,” Tom motioned towards the car.

“Tommy, my car is here. I’ll meet you there,” you said, kissing his cheek goodbye.

“Ok just be careful please.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Ok, Jared. Home now plea—“ Tom directed but was cut off by a loud BOOM.

“Jared, what the fuck was that?” Tom asked.

“Sir, it was Mrs. Holland’s car.”

“Y/N! Y/N?” Tom jumped out of the car. Nothing else mattered in that moment, only finding you.

Time stood still as thick black smoke bled through the air. Coating everything in its path with a faint ash. Screams echoed from the bystanders as the car went up in flames.

“Tom, I’m okay. It wasn’t mine.” You exasperated, coughing from the smoke. It wasn’t your car but it was close in proximity.

“Thank god. I can’t keep almost losing you,” Tom whispered, kissing you hairline.

“I’m here now.” The second you were in his arms you knew you were safe.

“Yes you are. It sure does look hell a lot like yours, though. Come on, I’m taking you home,” Tom said, wrapping his right arm around your shoulder.

Pulling up to the manor, everything looked different. There were more guards posted at every corner with heavier weaponry. Tom had the gate barricaded with another car in case some where to ram into the gate.

“Jesus, what took you so long?” Haz said

“They tried to bomb Y/N’s car. Thankfully the dumb fucks who planted it, picked the wrong car.”

“Tom you need to tell me what’s going on.”

“I will. Family meeting in the living room. Now.”

“Some of us have some secrets to share. I want to know everything that happened here while your mother and I were in Paris. Someone start talking,” Tom said, pacing in front of Parker and Rosie sitting on the couch.

Rosie and Parker were both hiding something. Rosie’s however was a rather monumental milestone. Rosie reminisced of her wonderful night with Henry while you and Tom were away. She loved Henry so much and was overjoyed to share that experience with him.

Rosie had told Henry at the wedding that she was ready to take that next step with him. Seeing you and Tom re-commit yourselves to one another affirmed that for Rosie. That she loved him more than anything.

“I’m sorry, dad. You don’t have to worry, we were safe,” Rosie blurted out.

“What?” Tom barked growing more anger by the second.

“Henry and I used a condom,” Rosie responded.

“Rosie?” You questioned, knowing what she was talking about.

“WHAT?” Tom screamed.

“That’s not what you were hinting at?” Rosie stammered.

“No, this is about Parker,” Tom reckoned.

“Fuck,” she mumbled under her breath.

“Where the fuck is he?” Tom yelled, bolting out of the living room. Looking for the boy who had stolen Rosie’s innocence. You and Rosie soon followed hoping Tom wouldn’t do anything rash.

“Dad!”

“Tom!”

“Henry, you bastard! You fucked my daughter!” Tom shouted charging at Henry.

“Oh shit,” Henry muttered, he knew Tom could kill him in an instant.

“You went in my daughter! What’s stopping me from killing you right now.” Tom asked with gritted teeth, hoping this dumbass wouldn’t answer.

“Tom, put him down,” you said, as Tom was gripping his collar and dangling him in the air.

“Daaaadddd.”

“Tom, please,” you pleaded as Tom held a gun square to Henry’s head.

“The safety is on, I was never gonna shoot him. Just make him shit his pants a little. From now on, you two can’t be here alone. And if you are in your room the door needs to stay open,” Tom said, pointing fingers at Rosie and Henry.

“I believe we have more important business to get to. Now come on,” you said, pulling Tom away.

“Y/N, you know I was never going to actually hurt the boy right?”

“Yes, Tommy. Now please resume the family meeting.”

“Parker. Do you have something to tell us?” Tom asked, knowing his son will lie.

“I’ve been sneaking out at night and I’m sorry,” Parker started, you could hear the disappointment behind his voice.

“Why? I know it’s not because of a girl. I want to know everything,” Tom explained, fucking tired of all the lies.

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

Parker began by explaining how he felt by the loss of Charlotte and how he turned to Wilson. In Parker’s mind he was doing the right thing. Serving justice to those who wronged others. But in reality he was the one committing the wrongdoings.

Parker came clean that he was the one killing all of Tom’s men and that he killed Jazz. That he went Wilson before coming to Tom. Becoming Wilson’s secret hitman was never supposed to go this far. He only intended for it to be a big fuck you to Tom. Not destroy his livelihood and his family in the process.

Including all the details of Wilson’s secret agenda of taking you and Tom out. But Parker left out the fact that Wilson was no longer a threat. Having taken care of him the day before.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve never been this naive and stupid. I’m the one you’ve been searching for. I’m the rat,” Parker exclaimed. “Dad, say something,” he pleaded.

“Get out,” Tom said with an unchanging expression.

“What?”

“I said get the fuck out!”

“Tom,” you tried to reason.

“You are no longer my son. Betraying me, betraying your family. Get out.” Tom screamed.

A/n: I’m sorry. I like the content in this chapter but not the writing.

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas Masterlist

taglist: @thenoddingbunny-blog @dummiesshort @adriannauni @bi-lmg @allthisfortommy

[gb-patch]

Ask Answers: January 28th, 2021 (Part 1)

And we’re back with many more ask answers! Thank you for waiting.

Is lizzie/the main character tripping over a rock a random event in barbecue? or does it require certain choices? i picked the same choices in multiple different playthroughs but ended up with three different outcomes (1. nothing happens 2. liz trips 3. i trip)

Yep! It’s completely random. Just a little moment of life you don’t have control over, haha.

wait just double checking you stated that derek would be another romantic interest you can pursue in step 4 right??? im just asking cuz hes my fav character 

oh wait and btw i was the one that asked the question about derek being in the step 4 just now, and will you have to pay extra for like a dlc or something bc i play the free version rn and i just wanted to check!! 

Yeah, you will eventually be able to romance him, but unfortunately it is a paid DLC. Cove is the only love interest who’s entirely free-to-play. You can  follow our social media for when we giveaways for a chance to win a key for it, though.

i know that y’all said the step 3 dlc and step 4 will be released early 2021, is there any update to that? for example, a rough amount of days/weeks until release? no pressure at all, i’m super excited!! <3 

The Step 3 DLC will be about in maybe two-two and half months or so. Step 4, we’re not entirely sure. Maybe a few months after the Step 3. We don’t want to give set dates until we’re really close to the release since otherwise we wouldn’t be able to 100% guarantee them.

First off love the game. Second I'm a little confused on how the nsfw dlc is gonna work. Because based on some stuff you've said it sounds like a patreon only thing and others make me think it could be an itch/steam thing after the fact? Would you mind clarifying for me 😅. Also if it's a patreon only thing do you need to become one before it's released? 

It’s not going to be on Steam/Itch. The actual game of Our Life is safe for teens with no adult content. Any 18+ stuff we’re releasing is separate bonus content. Right now the only for sure plan is having it available through Patreon. If there’s another hosting site that’s not Steam or Itch that’d be easier for people than Patreon we might consider uploading it there too, but nothing else is set.

If you want the bonus Moment you’d have to join once it’s already out or sometime after the release. Joining now would get you our current rewards, but wouldn’t get you future content that’s coming later.

this is probably an awkward question and i apologize, feel free not to answer, but i just wanted to address the elephant in the room....will step 4 acknowledge covid/2020 world events?? i kind of hope not bc i'd like to just exist in a fictional version of the world where things are happy in this quaint seaside town and the world isn't falling apart, but i'd understand if there are some references to it. just thought i'd ask so i can Prepare if that makes sense

Step 4 isn’t going to include Covid or even reference it. When we set Step 4 in that year we definitely didn’t know there’d be a global pandemic during it. It’s too late to move the timeframe earlier or later, but we’re not going to make Step 4 stressful for anyone because the real world became so much more stressful. The universe of Our Life will just be an even more idealized place than it was before.

hiiiii! i'm really sorry if this is a bother. i was just curious if cove has a canon setting for each step, like is it canon that he stays candid the whole game and is super sporty for instance and the rest are variations? thank you for your time!

None of those settings are canon. They’re all equally valid.

I love the game and Cove so much that I ended up spending most of the holidays playing it. Definitely worth it! Idk if you're taking suggestions/criticisms, but I chose the peach skin tone and seeing it written as "my peach skin" in the game broke immersion for me because I kept thinking it was referring to the fruit instead of my skin color. I think that skin color is most commonly referred to as "fair" but "peachy" or "rosy" would work too if you're looking for a different word 

Thank you for sharing your experience. We’ll change it to “peachy” in the next update!

So I accidentally overwrote a save file with a different one, is there any way I can recover that save? 

Sadly, there isn’t. Not unless you had a backup of the actual save file files in a separate location you can get. I’m really sorry. You can try using the skip feature to quickly speed through the game and get back to where you were though.

Do you try to maintain the color scheme for the clothing throughout the years in Our Life? 

Yes, though in hindsight not as much as I wished I did, haha. It could’ve been a little more cohesive. It was a bit too broad in my opinion.

I noticed that Cliff mentions he wasn’t much older than Cove before finding out he was going to be a father when he finds MC in bed with Cove during Part 3 so doesn’t that Cliff and Kyra were teenage/young parents? 

Yeah, Cliff was nineteen and Kyra was eighteen when Cove was born. They were just a couple of kids.

Does Cove have a favourite holiday? 

It changes depending on the year. Around Step 1 he’s not a huge fan of a lot of holidays because he’s not together with his whole family for them. But once he’s older and Kyra comes around more, he starts appreciating major family holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas more than other holidays because he knows how it feels not to have that. Though summer vacation is of course his most favorite all the time, if that counts as a “holiday”.

I tried to join your patreon but I can’t seem to? The website keeps saying something went wrong and to try again. 

I’m sorry you’re having trouble! I think contacting Patreon support would probably be the best option if the joining process itself is having issues.

How much is it to become a part of your Patreon? I don’t have a lot of money currently but would love to help you out more than just buying the games and dlcs. 

Aw, I appreciate you wanting to support but the Patreon is really optional. You don’t need to push yourself to join if you don’t have extra funds for it. To still answer the question, the tiers are $1, $5, $10, $15, and $20 in USD. Each come with different perks.

I had this idea for a future daughter for the MC and Cove being named "Poppy", after the flowers on their hill~

That’s a really sweet idea! I’m sure Cove would be a fan.

So if you don't mind me asking, how do you get Cove to propose to you in Step 4 and not the other way around? 

I’m afraid that’d be too big of a spoiler to give away before the epilogue’s release, at least in terms of specifics. Generally you’ll just have to be patient and try not to propose first, haha.

will we get to move in with cove in step 4 😮?? or is that a secret 

You can be living together with Cove in Step 4! Though you wouldn’t get to see the place itself. That’s up to your imagination.

Is it bad that I'm completely in love with Cove's dad... What I gotta pay to romance Cliff 😭 (I don't mean as Jamie because that would be wack) 

That’ll cost one million 20 twenty dollar bills, haha. I’m really glad you like him, though sadly we aren’t able to make a separate game where you can romance Cliff. I wish we had enough time to make tons of new scenes/extra stories in the Our Life world, but it just takes too long. Maybe people will make fanworks about it.

—–

We released a new FAQ! It answers common questions and we’ll keep adding more to it. Please check there before sending an ask. FAQ   Also, if you prefer to just see the main posts without all the asks/reblogs, feel free to follow our side account instead: GB Patch Updates Blog  

[twistedpoopland]

u-uhmmmm canipleasepleaseget jamie x y/n reader (platonic) hanging out at mostro lounge :pleading: that would be sooo swag

alright jhere you go lol!!! im sorry if the end is kinda weird

You and Jamie were at the Mostro Lounge, situated at a table near one of the windows away from the regular commotion. The place was lively as always, with the sound of calm, jazzy tunes and students conversing amongst each other filling the air.

The two of you became friends due to a chance encounter. You’d always been interested in them due to the whole entrance ceremony incident. Most of the time you saw Ace and Deuce tagging along with them, so you never had a good chance to talk. One day after school, you happened to spot them alone with Grim and decided to strike up a conversation. Ever since then, something seemed to click and you began hanging around each other on a semi-regular basis.

Jamie was currently sitting across from you, their face partially hidden by their menu as they mulled over the drink selection. You could hear them idly humming along to the music. Finally, they looked up at you. “So, what are you going to order, (y/n)?” Jamie asked. “I’m thinking about trying the triple-chocolate shake.”

You thought about it for a moment. “The tropical lemonade delight seems nice. I think I’ll order that.”

“Ooooh, nice choice!” Jamie looked back at the menu, biting their lip. “I might also get one of the cakes. I want to take a second one home for Grim, but I just know he’ll be bouncing off the walls all night.” Jamie’s remark caused you to giggle a bit.

After you both decided what you wanted, a waiter came up and took your orders. As soon as they left, you continued talking with each other.

Jamie’s gaze trailed over to the aquatic scenery. “You know, I rarely ever go out without Grim. I really hope it wasn’t a bad idea to leave him with the ghosts.” they sighed, tapping their fingers against the table.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. It's not like we’ll be out that long.” You tried to reassure them.

They chuckled. “I really hope so, (y/n)...”

It wasn’t long until the waiter came back with your drinks and food. You both thanked them and proceeded to dig in.

Jamie took the first bite of their strawberry creme cake, and their big, brown eyes seemed to light up as they chewed. “Oh man, this is soooo good!” You couldn’t help but smile when you saw their delighted expression.

When you looked up, Jamie was staring at you with a forkful of cake pointed towards you. Those eyes weren’t looking into yours but you understood the intent well. “Want a bite?”

You were taken aback by the gesture. “Are you sure, Jamie?”

“It’s ok for friends to share food, right? Besides, it’s not like anyone's gonna care if they see.”

You gave in and hesitantly took a bite. Your eyes widened as the wonderful combination of tart strawberries and sweet buttercream spread on your tastebuds. “Wow, you’re right! This really is good!”

“I know, right?” Jamie grinned.

In a bold move, you decided to return the favor and offered a bite of your dessert to Jamie. They gladly accepted it.

You continued to enjoy your sweets, just conversing together and enjoying the scenery. After you both finished, you paid the bill and prepared to leave.

Jamie gave you a gentle smile as you walked out. “That was great. We should definitely do something like this again, (y/n)!”

“I agree.” You replied. Anything to have fun with Jamie and see their smile.

[rushingheadlong]

POP IN THE SUPERMARKET

Conveyer rock - is it all a hype? Colin Irwin looks at pre-packed pop and talks to the men behind new bands Queen (left) and Merlin

Hype. An ugly, unpleasant word frequently recurring in rock circles. 

Up in the boardroom of a vast record company the fat cigar brigade are scratching heads. Binn and Batman have come up with another surefire hit and they want somebody fresh to market it. They ponder a few names and finally decide on one with slight but clear sexual connotations - suggestively camp. 

Name settled, they work on the people who will be in this new band. They might be able to find a ready-made group to fit the bill but better to mould their own. There's a singer who has been around for a few years. 

He's not great but he knows how to throw himself around a stage, has a hairy chest and can hit the high notes. Give him a new name and he'll do. Somebody knows a lead guitarist who can play a bit and looks good. They can advertise for the others. 

They'll work out a sensational stage act, rig them up in some flash gear, buy them the best equipment and arrange a string of appearances in some influential venues. Plunge a few thousand quid in launching them with advertising and posters and "They'll be the biggest thing since sliced bread," chief fat cigar tells his underlings. 

Session musicians are employed to record the single and being a Binn and Batman special the radio stations label it "chart bound" and play it twenty five times a day. Seeing the glossy photos in the bop mags the kids gather up their pennies and buy it. 

VOILA, stars are born - or manufactured. An extreme form of hype. 

There's also a cliché commonly used in the business about people who have been around for many years and finally make it. It's called talent-will-out. An idealist phrase but there is still a popular belief that if a band is truly talented enough it will win through in the end. 

Yet even the greatest band in the world need a bit of pushing in the first place. When a record becomes a hit it's not always that easy to distinguish between hype and talent-will-out.

If a record company spends astronomical sums of money promoting a band, is it hype? Or is it a legitimate and necessary weapon in the music business? The argument is that the BBC's ever-tightening playlist and the effects on the industry of the three-day week have made it harder than ever for a new group to make it - talent or no. Without a big money machine behind it there isn't a hope. 

The situation is illustrated by two energetic new bands, who both look like breaking. 

Big money has been spent on Queen and Merlin, who have had new singles released during the last month. 

Queen's record, "Seven Seas Of Rhye," is already moving swiftly up the chart, while Merlin's "Let Me Put My Spell On You," is doing well enough to suggest it might follow suit. 

There is no suggestion that either band is a manufactured or manipulated product in the sense of the Monkees. They play the music on their own records entirely themselves and they are both hard at work on the road. 

Yet the question arises as to whether they would be doing quite so well without the resources of big companies behind them. 

In the case of Queen it's Trident Audio Productions and EMI and for Merlin it's Cookaway Productions and CBS.

The one common factor is that money and backing has been provided because the companies have a solid, unshakeable belief in the artists they are promoting. They are indignant about any suggestion of a put-on or that there has been any attempt to con the public. 

Listen to Merlin's producer Roger Greenaway for half-an-hour and there is no doubting his faith in their ability. "They are going to break, I know they are. I'm convinced the record will be a hit."

Nobody's saying exactly how much it has cost to launch either band. "Over a period of months between £5,000 and £10,000" has been spent on marketing Queen by EMI while the figure for Merlin is even vaguer. "A bit, but not a vast amount. Not a fortune by any means."

"Seven Seas Of Rhye" is Queen's second single and was recorded as part of the album "Queen 2" which has just been released. Things started to move for them about a year ago when they recorded their first album for Trident, who have a distribution contract with EMI. 

An advance was paid to them to help with the immediate costs of putting them on the road. 

Review copies of the album - about 400 of them - were sent out to everyone who might conceivably have any influence on the record buying public, from discos to the national press. Copies were personally distributed to radio and TV producers and extensive advertising space was bought in the trade papers. 

The launch for Queen was more concentrated than most artist are entitled to expect. 

Trident were completely behind them from the start and found them their American producer Jack Nelson. EMI promotions men Ronnie Fowler and John Bagnall decided they had a product with an exceptional chance of success and they went all out to exploit it to the full. 

Says Fowler: "Every record we release we work to a pattern of promotion. When I went round with the album it was normal procedure. It becomes un-normal when people start phoning you - that's when you put more effort into it."

Bagnall adds: "It became obvious after a week or so that it wasn't standard promotion that was necessary. We did a more complete promotion job than usual on Queen because we thought they were going to make it.

"They're all good-looking guys and I did a round of teeny papers and all the girls in the office swooned over them. Brian, the lead guitarist, had made his own guitar and a couple of the nationals picked up on that. It was good, gossipy stuff."

Queen's publicity machine was working from all angles because they were also getting external promotion from Tony Brainsby's promotion office. 

He had been involved with them from the time they had been trying to get record producers interested. The intensity of it all paid off when they were invited to do a spot on the Old Grey Whistle Test. Radio Luxembourg latched upon the single "Keep Yourself Alive" and played it regularly. 

Their first tour, supporting Mott the Hoople, got the full works. Local press was saturated with releases about this new band which was shortly coming to their town, elaborate displays were arranged at the front of the house on the night of the concert, local disc-jockeys were informed, and window displays were made in about 200 local record shops. 

"Trident and EMI committed themselves right from the start to this band, to make sure they had a PA which was better than other bands had and to make sure they had the right clothes. Some of their outfits cost £150 each," said Bagnall. "Spending money on a band isn't hype. It wasn't being flash or extravagant for the sake of building an image. It was making sure that everything else was as good as their music."

Not so far removed from the attitude towards Merlin, although it has been on a smaller scale in this case. 

The first Merlin tour, still underway, is rigorous. They are playing ballrooms and colleges all over the country on a lengthy round. 

An ambitious project for a new, unknown band, but it has already been successful in that it has launched them as a name people now know. A full-page advertisement was bought in the MM. That's the sort of treatment you might get if you're Bowie, or Ferry, or even Mick Ronson. But Merlin?

They have only been in existence in their present form since last May. 

They emerged as a result of discussions between Alan Love and Derek Chick about the possibility of forming a band with definite commercial appeal and a glamorous stage act. The idea reached fruition via a band called Madrigal, who had for some time been working the same circuit as Mud before "Crazy" broke for them. 

Madrigal disbanded but reformed with the same drummer and bass player, and Love as singer and Chick as manager. A couple more young musicians were found to join them and Chick started the usual hustling to get them going. 

In due course they came to the attention of Cookaway, and Roger Greenaway was hastily summoned to take a look at them. He had already seen Madrigal and when he saw the new model he immediately saw a big future for them. 

Greenaway says: "I'd been looking for a group of this type for three years - a young under-20s group who can present a good act. There's a lot more showmanship attached to bands now. I wanted an act with a slightly different approach. I was in New York producing the Drifters and I came back especially to hear them."

He quickly took them into a studio to see how they reacted there and among the tracks they recorded was "Let Me Put My Spell On You" which had been written by Greenaway in collaboration with Tony Macaulay. Like Queen, the best equipment and some fancy costumes were bought for them and the launching process was put into operation. 

My own experience of the Merlin project was a couple of weeks ago at Reading Top Rank - a bizarre mixture of precocious boppers, ageing teds, and stern-looking heavies. 

Posters and pictures of the group were plastered all over the place and by the time they eventually appeared late in the evening you had been informed quite thoroughly that Merlin had made a record called "Let Me Put My Spell On You."

Greenaway says of Love: "He's got star quality and he's a great charmer. The guitar player Jamie Moses has got a terrific potential too. I've worked with Jimmy Page and John Paul Jones but for me this guy at 18 is a better player than Jimmy Page was at the same age. He's the sort of player guys can follow - like Jet Harris - he had an incredible following with the guys."

He likens the Merlin launch to a military operation. The career of the group has been minutely planned since October. Accepting that it is almost impossible to get airplay for a new band on the BBC they decided the best way to break them was through a solid mass of live dates. 

The dates were booked, once again the best equipment, including a light show, was bought for them, and distinctive stage costumes especially designed. 

"By the time the tour has ended they will be a really tight band. We are getting support in the regions and you can break a record if you can get regional radio stations and disco plays. I believe this record is a hit and the signs are there. This is a ten-year job as far as I'm concerned."

Not that big money backing is any guarantee of success. 

One of the biggest projects of this type was the launching of young Darren Burn as Britain's answer to Donny Osmond. To their eternal credit the record-buying public didn't apparently want an answer to Mr Osmond and the campaign failed. 

The pop supermarket is not a new trend. The attractively packaged mass-produced record has been a part of the industry for a long time. The early releases of Love Affair, White Plains and Edison Lighthouse for example spring to mind. 

The whole thing is justified for the makers by the fact that they still become hits, thus proving there is a demand for made-to-order records. If the public is willing - or gullible enough - to pay 50p for music created in the boardroom. Well it must be OK.

The Merlin single is blatantly, unashamedly aimed at being a big hit - that seems to have been the one criterion in making it. It has all the ingredients and as the whole thing has been done with concentrated professionalism it will probably be a hit. 

Back to Roger Greenaway: "I don't want to present this as a Monkees type of image. It's not a manufactured group in any way - these guys have all been in other bands. 

"What Merlin are about is success - reaching people. It's so wrong for opposing people to criticise. If Chinn and Chapman go out to reach a particular market at the thing they do best, and they reach them, then they're doing their job. They've filled a gap.

"When this record happens it'll be called hype but we haven't hyped anybody. Not a vast amount of money has been spent on them. It would be silly to have a tour like this without some sort of advertising. All the money that has been spent on them so far has been towards getting them on the road. 

"It's expensive but it's minimal if you think of it as a along term thing."

It may be unfair to associate Queen with the pop supermarket. The group themselves were apprehensive about appearing on Top Of The Pops and the prospect of a hit record. 

They have always regarded themselves as an album band and were concerned about being connected with the chart groups. The fact remains that they have been on the receiving end of a giant campaign to create a best-selling single and album. 

The first album had sold far better than they had anticipated and there was great excitement around Trident and EMI as the second one was being made. Manager Jack Nelson came in virtually every day to play new tracks as they were completed and many discussions followed on which one should be released as a single. 

A special meeting was held between Bagnall, Fowler, marketing manager Paul Watts and a few others to discuss the approach to the release of "Queen 2."

"We talked about the possibility of boxing the album, and other various publicity and posters needed to produce an album we were convinced was going to be one of the biggest of the year. We set a high target for it. 'Seven Seas' isn't a housewives' record so with the daily shows like Edmonds, Blackburn and Hamilton, there's no chance of getting it played, we knew that from the start. But the weekend shows - Rosko, Henry, and D.L.T. - they all flipped over it. I took the records round personally because I felt so strongly about it."

The prime plug, however, is Top Of The Pops. If a record gets exposure on that there is a more than even chance that it will become a hit. He played it to the show's Robin Nash and a couple of days later Nash phoned him and asked him where Queen were. Later he rang back and invited Queen to do a session. 

The band weren't too sure whether they wanted to do it but eventually agreed although even then they didn't know until the last minute whether it would be used because they were half expecting a David Bowie film to arrive and take it's place. But in the end Queen were shown and "Seven Seas Of Rhye" moved dramatically from there. 

"A lot of people have invested an awful lot of time and money in this band but not as a hype," says Bagnall. "The only truth in the music business is that if a band isn't good, no amount of money will get them to make it."

Greenaway may be right that Merlin are one of the most exciting bands to merge since the Beatles. Fowler might be right that Queen are one of the best since the Who. But big business still remains one of the sadder aspects of the music industry today. 

----------

Huge thanks to the anon who brought this to my attention, since I’ve been looking for a copy of this article for ages now! 

Credit for the original scans goes to @Chrised90751298 over on twitter, though I stitched it back together into a single image for ease of posting over there. Open the image in a new tab to see the full-size version!

[springsaladgaming]

Follower Milestone

Hey there, all! I recently passed 400 followers, so I thought it would be nice to gift you all some writing!

I had a particular short story that I wanted to gift when we got here, but I’m not entirely happy with it and want to rewrite it.

So, instead, I thought it would be fun to share the predecessor of Ninelives. For those of you who don’t already know, Ninelives was adapted from a short story that I wrote a decade ago for university. It is about a young man who is struggling with depression and, in a failed suicide attempt, learns a small thing about his parents that could potentially evolve into something explosive.

When I started writing this short story, I realized that I wanted to turn it into a novella. The main character would have met someone with a very Carpe Diem attitude and made the shift into a healthier headspace while dealing with his family problems. The overarching theme of the story was the way that little secrets add up. It was always my plan to go back to it once I was done with school, but then real life happened a little too hard (shitty job, pretty severe depression, and some family issues). I never touched it again.

My memory is pretty famously bad about certain things (due to I think ADHD and anxiety). But, of all the short stories that I wrote at uni, I remembered this one like the back of my hand. When I started writing Ninelives, I technically still didn’t touch the old story. I didn’t need to look back at it to remember the overall narrative. I just went at it. And then, a couple of weeks ago, I found the old external drive that I used to store all of my work on and dug up this short story once again.

I think you’ll find the similarities between this short story and Chapter 1 of Ninelives pretty quickly. Dad is kind of an asshole, Mom is pretty dismissive of the main character, and the brother seems to be the only one who cares. Ninelives is also carrying on the theme of secrets in a way. I was actually a little surprised by how similar the two still are, even though they are now different works with a decade of time between them.

This short story is a decade old, thus it hasn’t been edited or revised in the same amount of time, so read it with that in mind. Also, just to be on the safe side...

CONTENT WARNINGS: discussion of suicide, drug abuse/overdose, cigarette use, verbal abuse

And now, without further ado...

Jamie’s ass was beginning to stick to the porcelain tub, and it was getting to him.  As if that weren’t enough, the paper sign taped over his crotch created a pocket of hot air that made his dick stick to his leg. The sign read HOW’S THIS FOR AN EXIT, but Jamie wasn’t going anywhere, and that’s what bothered him most of all.  He’d downed his father’s bottle of blood pressure meds, but nothing was happening.  At least, nothing seemed to be happening, except that Jamie was now hot and sweaty.  He had no idea what ODing on blood pressure meds did, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t this.  He was even more sure that he wasn’t dying.

This would go down in history as the most anticlimactic suicide ever.

Ten minutes.  Twenty minutes.  Thirty.  An hour.  Jamie felt some discomfort—a little sick to his stomach, the porcelain pressing against his boney ass—that was it.  Now he was bored and naked, and someone would probably come looking for him soon.  Probably.

His brother, Graham, was the one who called up to him.  “Hey, Jammy,” he said.  “Dinner’s ready. Get down here.”

Jamie spent a good five minutes after that staring at the ceiling, which was covered in a layer of grime from years of shower steam.  Either that or the years during Jamie’s childhood when he’d come in here to smoke.  His parents had never looked for him here.  That hadn’t changed now that it was the spare bathroom instead of Graham and Jamie’s.

But Graham knew Jamie’s hiding spots and came looking for him.  Jamie heard Graham call for him in the hall for a few minutes, maybe less.  Then Graham knocked on the door.  “Jammers, dinner.  What are you doing in there?”

Jamie hadn’t locked the door.  That would have been too dramatic.  Now it was a mistake, and Graham walked in just as Jamie got out of the tub and crumpled up his suicide note.  The family always seemed to be catching Jamie with his pants down, just never quite so literally.

Graham didn’t seem surprised or the least bit embarrassed.  Jamie felt one of the two emotions, though he wasn’t sure which, and it wasn’t so much over his nakedness as it was the other circumstances.  Graham crossed his arms and said, “Taking a bath?”  He raised an eyebrow and cleared his throat.

“No, I wasn’t jacking off,” Jamie said.  “Just being here makes me limp.”  The fact that Jamie hated coming home wasn’t news to Graham.  Jamie thought that would be enough to end the conversation, but Graham’s eyes flashed to something behind him, and Jamie remembered he’d left the empty prescription bottle on the side of the tub.

“What were you doing, Jamie?” Graham asked.

Jamie grabbed the bottle and tossed it in the garbage along with his suicide note—or maybe it was better to call it his ex-suicide note.  It would be the only ex he’d ever had.  He grabbed a towel from the wall to cover himself and said, “Remind me to tell Dad that Mom’s been giving him placebos.”

“Jamie—”

“Gonna let me get dressed for dinner or what?” Jamie said.

Graham let Jamie pass but followed him down the hall to his old room.  Jamie packed clothes in his backpack instead of leaving some here like Graham did.  It took him a few seconds to get the shirt he was looking for.  He could feel Graham’s eyes on him.  He gave up on pulling out his nice pants and put on the jeans he’d worn earlier that day.  Graham was getting suspicious, Jamie knew.  But it didn’t matter why he was staring; it made Jamie self-conscious of just about everything under the sun.  He fumbled with the button on his pants for a good few minutes—almost broke the thing off—before he got it.  When he turned back to the door, Graham was still staring.

They made eye contact and Graham asked again.  “What were you doing?”

“Nothing,” Jamie said.  He tried to make his way downstairs, but Graham was blocking the door.  This time, he didn’t move.

“Jamie, you’re scaring me,” Graham said.

“Would it make you feel better if I said I knew they were placebos?”

“Did you?”

Jamie pushed his way past Graham.  Graham grabbed Jamie for a second and then let go, as if unsure what he was supposed to do once he had him.  Jamie didn’t have the answers either, wasn’t sure what he’d do if he their positions were reversed.  They would never be reversed, though.  Graham’s life was perfect; suicide wasn’t even an option for him.  He had no idea what it was like.  Maybe that’s why he was silent now.

Once they were seated around the dinner table, it was almost as if it never happened.  Their parents went on about their usual praise of Graham’s life, but not before ragging on Jamie about his.  “Dinner has been at seven sharp every Saturday for the last fifteen years,” Margery said.  “I don’t know why you can’t get that through your head.”

Jamie knew that.  That’s why he’d chosen the time he did.  “I lost track of time,” Jamie said.  He didn’t say more; they were going to tear him apart either way.

“It’s those work hours of his,” Hugh said.  “He has a different schedule every week.  If you’d get a real job, you wouldn’t have that problem.” Hugh didn’t look up from his plate as he cut his meat.  He always ate the meat first, but not before cutting it into perfect little cubes.

I have a real job, Jamie might’ve said, but they’d had this conversation before.  Hugh meant a salary job.  Flipping burgers didn’t count unless Jamie was making more than twenty an hour.

“Speaking of work,” Margery said, “How did your last settlement go, Graham?” Margery went for her veggies first.  She didn’t eat meat and only let Hugh at dinner, though Jamie suspected he snuck it during his lunch.

“It went well,” Graham said.  He’d barely touched his food, but Hugh looked up from his plate at that moment, and Graham dug in.

“You’re not usually so tight-lipped,” Hugh said.

Graham kept his eyes on his plate.  “It’s pretty easy to reach a settlement when the couple agrees on it before they even come to see me,” he said.

Graham was a divorce lawyer, carrying on the family tradition.  Sort of.  Their grandfather had been a judge and a prosecutor before that.  Hugh was also a prosecutor.  Graham’s decision to become a divorce lawyer had been met with a little resistance, but Hugh readily accepted it once Graham proved it made a lot of money.  Everyone’s getting divorced these days, Graham had said.  I’ll never be out of the job.

“That’s how prevalent your brother is, Jamie,” Hugh said.  “Divorcees go to see him even when they don’t need his help.”

Jamie kept his face in his plate and poked at his food with his fork.  What Hugh really meant was, “Why can’t you be successful like your brother?”  It was the same game every Saturday; that’s why Jamie hated coming here.  But it meant a free meal, even if Jamie had usually lost his appetite by the time he got it.  Besides, if he didn’t come, that would be just one more disappointment.

“Jamie will figure it out,” Graham said.  This was his way of taking Jamie’s side.  Usually.

“As soon as he figures how to pay his rent on time,” Hugh said.

Will you please stop talking about me like I’m not here, Jamie wanted to say.

“You’ve paid this month’s rent, I hope,” Hugh said.

“I paid it last month,” Jamie said.  He’d borrowed some money from Graham to do so with the promise of paying it back once he found a new roommate.  The last one packed up and left without a word.  Jamie's parents didn't know about the money, and he wasn't about to tell them now.

“You need to learn how to get ahead in all areas of your life, not just your bills,” Hugh said.

“Jamie,” Margery said, “get your chin off the table.”

Jamie felt like he was eleven again.

Jamie went outside for a smoke when dinner was over.  He didn’t smoke anymore, but he kept reserves for these occasions.  Few Saturdays passed without a cigarette.  He usually kept with the old ritual, smoked on the edge of the tub with the bathroom door closed and the window open.  After today, he avoided that bathroom., and not only because it embarrassed him.  Graham was like a hawk for the rest of the night.  He didn’t take his eyes off Jamie, even when they were cleaning the dishes.  He’d gone so far as to clean all the knives himself.  Jamie couldn’t lay a hand on them.

Graham was outside with Jamie, too, hovering over his shoulder like Hugh used to do when Jamie was a child.  “You still smoke,” Graham said.

“Only after I’m well-cooked by the parents,” Jamie said.

“Smoking will kill you, you know,” Graham said.  He shifted his stance.  “Why not just smoke two packs a day?”

“Because so far the only life goal I’ve met is not getting cancer.”

“We’re switching rooms tonight.”

“Why?”

Graham took Jamie’s cigarette and tossed it into the gravel.  “My room doesn’t have a lock,” Graham said.

“Oh, please,” Jamie said.  “I didn’t lock the bathroom door, did I?”

“Thank god for that.”

“What does it matter?” Jamie said.  “Dad will kill me when he finds that bottle in the trash anyway.”

“Let’s go inside,” Graham said.

“I didn’t get to finish my cigarette.”

“Inside, now,” Graham said.

Jamie didn’t have time to move before Graham corralled him inside with a hand on his shoulder.  When they came in, Margery was on the landing and Hugh was shouting at her from their bedroom.  To Margery, Jamie and Graham must have looked like two brothers who’d just shared a special moment.  It was some kind of special moment, but she didn’t pick up on the animosity and smiled down at them.

“What’s Dad shouting about?” Graham asked.

“He can’t find his medication,” Margery said.  “I’m sure he just misplaced it.  Wouldn’t be the first time.  I assume you two are leaving early tomorrow?”

Graham nodded.  “Actually, I’ve been talking to Jamie about moving in with him.”

“Oh?” Margery said.

Jamie echoed the oh so immediately that they almost said it at the same time.

“Yes,” Graham said.  His fingers dug in to Jamie’s shoulder.  “At least until he can find a new roommate.”

Margery smiled.  “Maybe you can help him get his life on track,” she said.

“Something like that,” Graham said, and he shook Jamie’s shoulder.

Graham was true to his word and made Jamie take his room.  He opened the doors wide and, instead of going to bed himself, sat and watched Jamie from across the hall.

“You have to drive in the morning,” Jamie said.

“You’ll drive,” Graham said.

“Not afraid I’ll crash the car?”

“No,” Graham said, “because then it would be a murder-suicide.”

“You’re not moving in with me,” Jamie said.

“Either I move in with you or I check you into a psyche ward on suicide watch.”

“The apartment is small.”

“Jamie, I lived in a smaller apartment through eight years of college,” Graham said.  “I’ll manage.”

“You’re really going to watch me sleep?” Jamie asked.

“Get used to it,” Graham said.  “From now on, I’ll have to watch you do a lot of things.”

In the morning, Graham was still watching.  The two of them drove back to Denver in Graham’s SUV, and Graham started moving some of his things into Jamie’s apartment later that day.