#John Simon

[billboard-hotties-tourney]

John Simon (1941-) Works Produced: Cheap Thrills by Big Brother and the Holding Company; "The Weight" by The Band Propaganda: see visual

Mike Nesmith (1942-2021) Works Produced: Loose Salute by the First National Band; "Tapioca Tundra" by The Monkees Propaganda: "After kicking Don Kirshner out, he managed to become a producer for the Monkees, and he also managed to produce his own work. Like Brian Wilson with pop rock, he was also constantly experimenting and trying new things in country music, and while he can come off as the serious one of the Monkees, he's actually a big dork, which I love"

Visual Propaganda for John Simon:

[eternal--returned]

[footballmakesmen]

[janeangela888]

Never mind what you hear about your self ♥️♥️

[odk-2]

The Band - The Weight (1968) Robbie Robertson from: "Music From Big Pink" (LP) "The Weight" / "I Shall Be Released" (Single)

Roots Music

Snuhfiles (left click = play) (320kbps)

Personnel: Levon Helm: Lead and Harmony Vocals / Drums Rick Danko: Co-Lead and Harmony Vocals / Bass Guitar Robbie Robertson: Acoustic Guitar Richard Manuel: Hammond Organ / Harmony Vocals Garth Hudson: Piano

Produced by John Simon

Recorded @ A&R Recorders (Studio A) in New York City, New York USA January, 1968

Album Released on July 1, 1968

Single Released: on August 8, 1968

Capitol Records

♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪

Video: The Band w/ The Staple Singers - The Weight (1978) from Martin Scorsese's The Last Waltz https://youtu.be/Z2eTW8qZBtk

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[ancestraldemons]

[oldshowbiz]

You Are What You Eat (1968) is one of those films where the soundtrack album is a thousand times better (and more common) than the movie itself.

[laswells-ashtray]

Ghost doesn't cutesy talk cats, he talks to them like other adult men and it's hilarious.

They're at a safehouse, and Ghost is listening to the radio, Price hears him talking to someone, and he's confused because both of his sergeants are conked out asleep.

So, he walks around the corner and finds Ghost sitting on a step with the radio playing and a stray kitten biting his laces while he talks to her. "I don't believe shoelaces constitute part of a balanced diet."

John just sits down on the step next to him and ignores how his knees click. "What's her name?"

"She's yet to disclose name or rank, but given that she's clearly smarter than those two through there, I'd say she's a lieutenant." He responds so dryly that John can't help but snort.

"Ah, I see. Making her way through the ranks at her young age, impressive." He leans forward to pet the kitten, flattening down the tuft of fur sticking up on her head.

"She's a hard worker, look at those paws. Grubby, she's been busy."

The kitten offers them a mewl in response, and he nods accordingly.

"She's stern, reminds me of Laswell."

That makes Ghost laugh.

[stinglesswasp]

Silly Halloween comic 🎃 (pretend I posted this on time)

[robinthisbank]

TikTokers are such pussies when it comes to ships. “B-but they’re not canon 🥺🥺🥺😭😭😖😖” honey back in my day we shipped characters from entirely different medias uphill both ways in the snow

[eyesforgrace]

Cara by John Simon

[quarterlifekitty]

Lately I’ve been getting a kick outta the idea of Ghost having a girlfriend that Johnny is painfully interested in (tale as old as time). But she a lil neurodivergent and selectively mute (edit; I originally labeled reader as non-verbal, but I was made aware mutism more accurately describes this!). She’s comfortable enough with Simon that she’ll talk to him when they’re alone, but she won’t say a word to Soap (she doesn’t talk to the other guys either, but you know that Johnny chooses to take it so damned personally).

The worst part is that Soap will say shit to her, and she’ll give Simon her little signal so he can bend down and she can talk to him so fucking quietly. It’s like they speak a different language and Simon is the interpreter. And it’s so infuriating to him because shit like this will happen.

“Ain’t you looking a right picture, bonnie— that dress new? Fits ye like a damned glove, sweetheart.”

You tug on Simon’s sleeve so he can lean down. Soap is rocking back and forth on his heels, anticipating an answer. He’s down so bad, he doesn’t even care that he’ll hear it from Simon’s lips and not yours. You whisper for what feels like minutes on end.

“She says thanks.”

“God damn, L.T.— you know she fuckin’ ‘ad to ‘ave said more than that!” He whines indignantly, Simon smirking. Simon knows all about his little crush, and chooses to let the lad suffer. His time will come when you’re ready.

This goes on and on for months on end— and you know what? It’s hard for Johnny to jerk off to the image of you wedged between him and Ghost when he has no idea what you sound like, moaning or otherwise. You can probably see him half hard in his jeans every time he heads home from a movie night with you and Simon.

“G’night, L.T. Night, hen.” Soap’s almost all the way down the walkway when he hears something almost inaudible over the ambient sounds of the night.

“Goodnight, Johnny.”

Now that’s gonna keep his fantasies fed for weeks.

[soleilapproves]

Older boyfriend Price who is absolutely DISTRAUGHT over the fact that you don’t care about marriage because you think he’s over it.

Note: this one has no smut but it has mentions of sex and sexual relations so interact at your own discretion. Reader is in mid twenties.

Masterlist

“What the fuck do you mean by you don’t want to?” If Price had been any louder, anyone outside his car would’ve been able to hear him.

It had been a few months into your relationship with Price after almost a year of being friends with benefits. You weren’t sure how your arrangement changed over time but you were glad to be with him as he valued you a lot.

“I mean, think about it. You’re like, what? 40-“

“I’m 37, love”

“Right, yeah, I just think that it doesn’t really matter as long as we’re having fun together. Honestly, I thought you’d agree.” You said before taking a bite out of your burger.

Price could only watch you in shock. Sure, your relationship started on the basis of sexual benefits but when he did think of the future all he thought of was you. Even if you were a generation younger than him, he had never felt such synergy with anyone before. It was a connection of a lifetime - emotional and sexual.

“So you don’t give a shit about marriage because you think I don’t care about it.”

“Kind of. If I’m gonna get married I need my partner to be on board too, don’t you think?” He sighed at your reply. You looked up at him, confused and cheeks full with your dinner as you grabbed the plastic cup of coke.

His heart swelled at the sight. It was like looking at an innocent chipmunk. To think that the same face looked fucked out an hour ago awed him but he couldn’t let himself get distracted by your unintentional seduction.

He grabbed your drink and put it back in the cupholder. You were about to whine but he grabbed your face and pulled you close, noses almost touching.

“You-“ peck “-are the most wonderful thing to happen to me and I’ll be damned if I don’t tie you down with me in the future.”

Your face heated up. You had swallowed your food not too long ago but your mouth felt like it had gone dry.

With your face in his hands he continued. “I’ll have a rock on your pretty little finger before you know it.” He left a longer peck on your lips this time and pulled away.

What you didn’t know was that he already had a ring for you. It was stored away in a hidden drawer in his desk, waiting to be worn by you.

In fact, he had brought it just a month into your relationship. He wasn’t religious but he knew that a person like you was the blessing of a lifetime.

[footballmakesmen]

[ghouljams]

Absolutely cannot have fresh shaved/waxed pussy around the 141 boys.

Soap will cry over it, mourning the loss of your bush and "talking his girl(your pussy) through the loss" ie fingering you until you're soaked and sore as punishment.

Price will make it his mission to give you beard burn, shaking his head like a damn dog while he's eating you out, scratching the hell out of your pussy and thighs with his beard. He's trying to bleach the damn thing you just know it.

Ghost is the worst. Taking the opportunity to leave his dental imprint in the soft flesh surrounding your clit. He's going to bite until you're sobbing just to see the dimpled marks he's left.

At least Gaz is sweet. Pressing little kisses over the newly shaved/waxed skin, giving your clit soft little licks and pulling back to rub his fingers against your clit with gentle praises. Until you realize he's been doing that for the last hour, giving you just enough to keep you making those nice breathy noises but never giving you more. Maybe you should try Soap again...

[majinbangus]

You're sprawled on the couch when he comes in the room, eyes zeroing in on you instantly. He doesn't give you the chance to greet him, stalking up to you as if you're his prey. Which, in this moment, you probably are.

It's not hard to tell he's still in that soldier headspace he gets stuck in sometimes. He looks tired. Stressed.

You're about to get up and ask him what he wants, what he needs, once he's looming over you, but the words die out when his hands shoot out and start squeezing your breasts.

You don't stop him, but you do laugh a little, incredulous. "What are you doing?"

"Fluffin' your tits." He's gruff, both in tone and groping. "What's it look like?"

"That's not how- nevermind." You chuckle and fondly roll your eyes. "Why?"

"Cuz they're mine," he says as if that's reason enough, and you suppose it is.

He let's go to get on the couch with you, batting your legs open to settle between them. The man practically flops on top of you with enough force to push an oof out of your lungs, but you can tell he's careful not to crush you entirely. His arms shove underneath your body, squeezing tight as he nuzzles his face against your newly fluffed breasts. You bring a hand up to scratch the back of his scalp the way you know he likes, and he sighs, melting into your body.

"Just like a big baby." Your chest bounces with silent laughter, and he gives a little sleepy warning nip to your clothed breast.

"Stop gigglin'. Tryna nap."

You almost laugh harder. He's not dispproving your point, but if this is what he needs, who are you to deny him?

"Alright, alright, I'll let my soldier rest." You calm yourself, softening your voice. "And I'll be here when you wake, too."

You know you're forgiven when he grunts and presses a kiss to where he bit.