#Linda Moretti

[mustbebunnys]

English Teacher - Linda, s1e06

[blairwaldcrf]

ENGLISH TEACHER | 1X06 "Linda"

[skittlespizza]

AWO ROLE REVERSAL AU except

Linda -> Leo

Carol -> Vincent

Linda got arrested, Leo left behind with Alex. Carol leaves Vincent alone with the newborn to get revenge.

(Yes they kiss)(its a polycule)

[bleuternatea]

Gay gay homosexual gay

^ ^ ^ ^ | | | |

Vincent Leo Carol Linda

[hoodedboy79]

Might have to write something for Vincent and Leo from A Way Out cuz I finished that game 2 days ago and still have not recovered.

All of them deserved better 🥲

(Apart from Harvey and that bich Jasmine 🙄)

[teampsgames]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: A Way Out (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Leo Caruso/Vincent Moretti, Linda Caruso/Vincent Moretti, Leo Caruso/Vincent Moretti/Linda Caruso Characters: Leo Caruso, Vincent Moretti, Alex Caruso, Linda Caruso Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Fix-It, Pre-Relationship, Polyamory Summary:

Лео уже перестал верить в добро, но, кажется, оно его догнало.

[perfettamentechic]

Summer Outfit of the Day by Paola Moretti

Summer Outfit by Paola Moretti #summeroutfit #outfit #ootd #fashion #barbiestyle #antonellarizza #anthonythomasmelillo #liamfahy #loewe #lindafarrow #borsalino #doricsengeri #opi #karenwalker #iho #paolamoretti #perfettamentechic

Costume: Antonella Rizza Abito: Anthony Thomas Melillo Scarpe: Liam Fahy Borsa: Loewe Occhiali: Linda Farrow Cappello: Borsalino Orecchini: Dori Csengeri Nail: O.P.I. Profumo: Monumental by Karen Walker Fashion Blogger: Paola Moretti Instagram: paolamorettiiho

[zombqeee]

I love this post so much thank you for living rent free in my head

a way out + text posts (4/?)

[guildofpriapus]

The Pussy Kat Klub

The Pussy Kat Klub: A Dark Haven of Innocence and Vice

By Trent Joffe

In the heart of the city of Riverdale beneath a haze of neon lights and the constant hum of jazz, lay The Pussy Kat Klub — a notorious nightclub that became synonymous with danger, intrigue, and a string of unsolved disappearances. While it presented itself as a glamorous escape for the young and hopeful, many who entered its doors vanished without a trace, leaving behind only whispers of their fate.

A City of Shadows

Since its opening in the late 1940s, The Pussy Kat Klub attracted a diverse crowd: eager young women seeking stardom, hardened gangsters looking for easy prey, and patrons who reveled in the club's seductive allure. With its sultry atmosphere and tantalizing performances, the club became a hotspot for both the innocent and the corrupt.

But beneath the glitzy facade lay a darker truth. Sources close to the club reported an alarming trend — young women, often with dreams of becoming dancers or singers, went missing after their first few nights at the venue. The police received numerous complaints, yet investigations seemed to stall, leaving families distraught and desperate for answers.

At the helm of this shadowy establishment was Tony "The Cat" Moretti, a figure whose charm was as notorious as his connections to organized crime. Moretti, known for his quick smile and sharp wit, was rumored to have ties to various syndicates that operated in the city’s underbelly. Those who knew him spoke of a man who was both charismatic and ruthless, a dangerous combination that kept his enemies at bay.

A former waitress at the club, who requested anonymity for fear of retribution, revealed unsettling details about the environment inside. “It was a trap,” she said. “The girls came in with dreams, but they didn’t realize the dangers lurking in the shadows. Some got lured into bad deals, while others just disappeared.”

A Pattern of Disappearances

The pattern was chilling. Families of missing girls described their loved ones as bright-eyed and full of promise before they walked through the club's doors. Reports indicated that at least a dozen young women had gone missing since the club's inception, their cases often falling through the cracks of the justice system.

Linda Hart, the mother of a missing girl, spoke to our team about her daughter’s fate. “She was just 19, full of life and hope. She wanted to be a dancer. Now, all we have are memories and unanswered questions. The police did nothing. It was like she never existed.”

[madneocity-universe]

Problematic Fave: Helia Moretti

Ele só tinha escolhido passar as férias na neve, porque sua família toda escolheu passar em uma praia e ele mesmo não queria que Sharon se sentisse pressionada a conhecer seus pais, irmãos caçulas e sobrinhos aquela altura do campeonato; então também tinha essa história de que Charles estava barbarizando com a namorada na Espanha e Arthur quase chamou a polícia pros dois, e de repente os Alpes Suíços se tornaram o destino perfeito.

Podia andar de snowboard e descansar, comer um monte de chocolate e aproveitar sua namorada longe dos olhos de todo mundo. Ele amava não ter nem uma preocupação além de vê-la feliz, carregar suas sacolas de compras nas lojas em volta e levá-la de volta quando ficava frio demais, porque era o arranjo perfeito de férias.

— A gente devia ter voltado mais cedo, seu rosto bonito quase congelou. — Helia sussurra com doçura assim que as portas do elevador se fecham e ele pode se aproximar da garota mais baixa, enchendo sua pele de beijos e prensando seu corpo menor com o dele, tranquilo, porque tinha fechado um andar inteiro de quartos para os dois, sem nem pensar na superlotação de turistas sem hospedagem que ele causou. — Mas eu vou cuidar de você, love. Prometo.

Porque ele amava mesmo cuidar dela. Fosse abrindo todas as portas pra ela passar, incluindo a do quarto, e então se oferecendo pra ajudá-la a se desfazer das várias camadas de roupa de frio, enquanto tomava o cuidado de ouvir o que ela tinha a dizer sobre o dia que eles tinham passado juntos e o que ela queria fazer no dia seguinte, e ainda assim distribuindo beijos por seu rosto e pescoço de um jeito que deveria ser involuntário, mas não era.

Seu pau ficava duro a cada peça de roupa que tirava do corpo da morena, e ficava cada vez mais difícil de ignorar o quanto ele a queria ao observar seu rosto ainda corado e seu sorriso fofo, falando sobre coisas que ele só fazia concordar, porque todos os seus pensamentos estavam em todas as suas curvas e volumes e o quanto ele precisava de tudo aquilo nu.

— Eu vou cuidar de tudo… — Ele diz, abraçando por trás, fazendo questão de esfregar sua ereção vestida na bunda dela, antes de mover as mãos pra barra da última blusa que a garota estava usando. — Do meu jeito.

E envolvia, claro, tirar aquela peça também e apertar aqueles seios nas mãos grandes até ouvir ela suspirar, beliscando e espremendo os bicos entre os dedos do jeito que ele sabia que ela gostava, antes de mover as mãos para a meia-calça de Bunmi e rasgar de uma vez só, aproveitando o passe livre pra esfregar a mancha molhada por cima de sua calcinha. Tocando o tecido úmido com os dedos, ao empurrar para o lado também.

— Você é tão gostosa, você é perfeita e meu entretenimento favorito. — Ele insere um e depois dois dedos dentro dela, usando a mão livre pra segurá-la perto de seu cacete duro, que ela faz questão de dar atenção esfregando a bunda nele. É o momento que ele se deixa relaxar, aproveitando a umidade dela nos dedos, ouvindo aqueles gemidos deliciosos enquanto sente a calça ficar mais apertada e úmida por causa dela, porque sabe que as coisas vão ficar intensas assim que ela pedir, com jeitinho e com a carinha de puta mais linda, pra ele fazer logo o que quer fazer.

Porque nada o deixa tão fraco do que ouvi-la implorar e formar um beicinho nos lábios, querendo que ele faça alguma coisa, que ele a tome ali e agora, choramingando pra ser fodida feito a vagabunda que ela é. Só dele.

— Eu vou cuidar de você, love. Eu vou cuidar tão bem de você.

Parece que leva só um segundo pra ele carregá-la até a cama enorme, acomodar seu corpo trêmulo entre os travesseiros fofos e ele mesmo se livrar das próprias roupas antes de atacar os lábios de Sharon com toda a força de um homem faminto, a beijando como se não fizesse isso por dias, antes de descer os lábios por seu corpo e chupar seus peitos com uma necessidade igual ou maior. Não ia ficar satisfeito até deixar os dois marcados e escorrendo sua saliva, marcando um território que além de ser seu, era uma de suas partes favoritas dela.

— Eu nunca vou me cansar, love… — Declara em um tom falsamente doce, terminando de rasgar as meias com força, seguidas da calcinha encharcada, a revelação de sua buceta vazando fazendo ele suspirar. — Eu nunca vou me cansar de você.

Como se cansar do gosto dela assim que ele afunda o rosto entre suas pernas macias? Ela tem gosto de luxúria, doçura pura e deixa ele viciado e dependente mais cada vez que usa uma das mãos pra manter a cabeça dele no lugar, deixando ele chupar, sugar e lamber cada centímetro e curva sensível como se fosse uma recompensa por ele ser tão bom pra ela. É sobre como ela geme alto e sua buceta fica ainda mais molhada, praticamente o obrigando a agarrar suas coxas com força pra ele conseguir beber cada gota, penetrando a língua no buraco quente enquanto o nariz bate bem cima do clitóris dela, antes de lamber tudo e prender a boca no botão sensível. É sobre como ela geme que vai gozar e começa a se esfregar na cara dele sem apego algum, porque é tão bom.

É sobre como ela goza e vaza por toda boca dele, dando exatamente o que ele queria, depois de ter feito tanto pra merecer, tão feliz por ter conseguido que só consegue beijar a pele de suas coxas com o sorriso mais convencido e presunçoso de todos.

— Eu nunca vou me cansar de fazer você ficar assim, love. — Helia sussurra ao se erguer na cama, se livrando da cueca e deixando seu pau duro sair e bater contra seu abdômen, pulsando e vazando com a visão da buceta dela. — Porque você ainda tem tanto pra me dar.

Helia nem a deixa pensar que vai usar a boca nele agora, tem outros planos ao puxar as pernas dela pro final da cama antes de dobrar seus joelhos e penetrar seu buraco de uma vez só, sentindo toda a plenitude deliciosa de arrombar uma buceta tão apertada e quente quanto aquela, que o aperta e suga pro fundo com força como se ele fosse embora. Mesmo depois de todas as vezes que ele tinha socado lá dentro, sua namorada ainda gritava e choramingava do jeito mais manhoso, enquanto o apertava por dentro. É uma delícia olhar para baixo e ver como seu pau estica ela, reivindicando sua buceta a cada estocada lenta e funda, que ele faz questão de empurrar até o fundo e não sobrar nem um centímetro de fora, soltando um gemido profundo e rouco com o jeito que ela o prende e implora.

— Você quer forte, sua vagabunda? — Toda a aura de namorado doce e cuidadoso foi embora, assim que ele desce um tapa estalado no rosto dela e só sente ela ficar mais molhada. — Já tá chorando só de pegar minha pica nessa sua buceta apertadinha assim, você quer mais, puta?

Ele só precisa sentir ela o apertando mais uma vez, pra começar a martelar fundo e rápido no mesmo instante, deixando as bolas baterem em sua bunda todas as vezes, porque ele ama o som imundo que aquilo faz e como ela revira os olhos com quão forte está sendo fodida por ele. Como ele ama a visão dos seios dela pulando com a força das estocadas e como ela não sabe escolher entre segurar as pernas abertas ou segurar os lençois pra se segurar. Parece quase criminoso não azer o que ela quer, e é por isso que ele faz.

Mesmo depois dela gozar e chorar e tremer, ele só a vira de costas e continua metendo nela, tão forte e rápido quanto antes, ficando satisfeito só ouvindo os gemidos dela e pedidos pra ele continuar e ir cada vez mais fundo. Porque ela quer e aguenta e precisa dele daquele jeito, tanto que mesmo depois de se desfazer de novo, ainda aguenta sentar em cima dele e levar outra surra de rola por cima.

— Que putinha gulosa você é, Sharon. — Ele diz com um sorriso convencido, sentindo a namorada quase desistindo de continuar sentando em cima dele, mesmo gemendo que quer muito e precisando das mãos dele em sua cintura. — Mas sabe quem tem mais vontade do que você?

Ele, claro, que jamais ia resistir a sua garota toda bonita e disponível em cima dele, ao prender ainda mais as mãos nos quadris dela antes de começar a estocar pra cima, fundo e forte como antes, pro prazer dela e o dele também, que não consegue se segurar ao beijá-la com tanta vontade quanto enquanto acerta lá dentro e onde ela mais precisa.

É em momentos assim que ele entende que se afastar nas férias era sobre não ter que dividir ela com ninguém, também.

[bemyawakening]

HAYLOFT; chapter eight

fandom: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Original Female Character

short summary: Marzia Moretti, known as Siren, is one of the secret agents of the CIA, meant to deal with missions quietly and gather information. Not only did she work on her biggest mission for seven years, digging for information about the Sicilian Mafia which was running the most secretive human trafficking business, but she also did this to get revenge. Recently, she gets assigned to Task Force 141 in order to finish the mission once and for all.

translation of Italian can be found at the end. You can also read this book on ao3

previous chapters: on my masterlist

warnings: human trafficking, rescue mission, blood, gore, deaths

Linda Walker didn’t have anything incriminating apart from her walk in her park which only showed that she was one of the people who squeezed cigarette buds on the pavement instead of throwing them out where they belonged. The woman was taking her freedom seriously and staying undercover as much as she could.

            Some unusual activity has been noticed from a private warehouse district in the district of Toscana. Some businessmen owned it for shipping huge cargo out with ships – deliveries. Intel managed to find out that a few transactions from that business ended up with Linda Walker years ago before she was in prison. It also has been confirmed, that the place was swarming with people during the night—night security as they called them, but they believed that the night security won’t be holding assault rifles with bulletproof vests.

            The warehouse district was big enough for the Task Force to split up in order to cover it all. The buildings were surrounded by huge containers, meant for shipment. The place was swarming with criminals, probably Torros, only to show that they were hiding something incriminating.

            The plan was that Price and Soap will cover the left wing of the warehouse building complex. Siren and Ghost will take care of the right wing. Gaz will find a high place to keep them informed about incoming danger and protect their backs. The mission was meant to be quiet and quick. There weren’t a lot of guards to take care of, so the need for them to use assault rifles was unnecessary. The best play out there was silenced pistols and knives.

            Siren has almost forgotten what it was like to wear a proper military vest. It was tough at first to wear it, the weight of little pouches full of med kits, ammo and other necessities attached to her. It reminded her of the seriousness of the situation. This wasn’t a satin red dress meant to charm and even if she felt odd with this extra weight and a silenced pistol in her hands, she liked the change of a mission.

            The warehouse complex was near the sea—the area around it was fairly abandoned. A lot of ‘keep-out’ signs in the distance of five kilometres from this place. There were three main buildings: all made from metal, industrial type – once were fabrics, but now were used for storage. The shipment containers were outside, a few transporting vehicles were parked around. There was a large fence around all that complex, that’s why Ghost had some metal cutters strapped to his back, already cutting their way through to the right ring.

            They chose a spot to hide where one of those containers was placed in front of the fence. Ghost looked down at his Sergeant, watching as she took her hunting knife out of the case strapped to her thigh. Doing the same, he peaked through the corner, noticing two guys making their rounds and he motioned for her to go around the container to take care of one of them.

            Nodding, she silently moved towards the man, waiting for the moment when he passed her container. The headache-causing lamp from above was making her wince—this place really looked eerie at the night. But she ended up at the end of the container, grabbing the man from behind by his mouth, muffling his mouth and plunging the knife through below his chin upwards, hearing a disgusting squelch of his meat, the man instantly growing limp. She dropped him on the ground without hesitation, noticing the tall frame near her do exactly the same.

            Ghost looked at her and she gave him a nod, motioning for him to lead the way. It surprised him how calm Siren has been this whole day. Even at the base, preparing to leave, she was focused on making sure her vest was secured on her body and that she had everything she needed. He didn’t know why he was always so impressed with her ability to be determined about something. He already has noticed the way she works. She knows when to draw a line between work and fun.

            Getting closer to the entrance of the right-wing, he heard a set of footsteps again, motioning her to go around another container to take another guy out. Himself, he walked out of the shadows, grasping the man towards himself as he covered his mouth with his gloved hand and pushed the knife through his temples. Soon enough, she joined him in the shadows as well, her vest slightly bloody, but she didn’t seem to care about it.

            Near the entrance, there were another two guards standing there. Both of them seemed determined—they weren’t bored. They didn’t even look tired.

            Moving back, he noticed how she grabbed a little pebble from the ground, throwing it to the right of the entrance, getting a reaction out of the guys. She moved around the container from the other side, seeing the man closer to her notice her presence and raise his rifle, but she extended her hand with the pistol and shot a clean silent bullet into his eye socket—ugh. His friend noticed his comrade falling and as he was about to turn on his radio, she appeared in his view and offered him two bullets: one in the stomach and the other to his forehead.

            Ghost simply stood there, annoyed with her not waiting for his order to proceed. But she took care of that nicely. “Show off,” he mumbled.

            The woman overheard that and she fought back her smile, dramatically bowing, extending her hands towards the door for him to keep on going.

            The metal door wasn’t unlocked and they both stepped into a large area of the same containers and shelves. Ghost quickly pushed the button on his comms, speaking into it: “Captain, this is Ghost. We’re inside.”

            “Copy that. We’re in the left wing.” Price announced.

            The inside was eerie—the translucent lights were slightly flickering and the electricity was buzzing loudly. It was a huge space full of the same containers. Nothing looked suspicious, but it was too soon to judge that.

            Moving away from the door, he motioned for her to go to the other side to take care of the rest guards. Siren complied and moved to the right, hearing some distant footsteps. She pressed her back to the wall, hiding herself behind a small column, hearing the footsteps coming in closer.

            “Io le comprerei,” the man spoke, startling her for a second, making her realise that he wasn’t talking with her.

            “Non hai tutti quei soldi,” a distant voice coming through a static noise was overheard.

            The man chuckled, his footsteps getting closer: “Potrei rubarne uno. Ce ne sono molti altri.”

            The two men were speaking about people. Stealing them. Selling them. As a joke. It was at that moment that she realised that they have hit the jackpot—this warehouse was on the right track. This place was somehow related to human trafficking, but they needed to find out how.

            Siren didn’t wait for the other guy to answer and she spun, seeing a tall guy in front of her widen his eyes, but she plunged his knife into his chest, hearing him croak out in surprise. His eyes were wide, mouth open to choke something out, but nothing came out of it. She retrieved her knife and kicked his knee, making him fall in front of her, and leaving him to die.

            The thud of his body on the concrete made a few whimpers appear in the space. “Ghost, you copy?” She spoke into her comms.

            “This place is empty,” he replied.

            “The guard was speaking about buying someone. We’re on the right track.”

            Siren didn’t receive another answer from him as his figure was visible in the distance, coming towards her.

            “What did they say?” His rough voice always made her feel uneasy, noticing that the comms soften it slightly.

            “One of them wants to buy someone, and talks about stealing since he doesn’t have that kind of money.”

            Another distant whimper was heard. Knitting her eyebrows together, she went to the closest container, knocking on the metal. Pressing her ear to the coldness of it, she heard a muffled whimper coming from the inside, making her heart drop to the ground.

            Turning to Ghost, she choked out: “People.”

            Siren moved to the front of it, putting a bullet through the lock of it and ripping it off the loop. Loudly, the door opened, hitting her with a stench. It was rust and body liquids—piss, sweat and a hint of iron – blood. The light from the room revealed about twenty women turning their heads to her—mouths tied, hands tied and horribly terrified.

            Putting the gun in her holder, she immediately raised her hands in a surrendering manner, looking at the shaken figures of these women—they were of different ages, and most of them were young, too young, just like the list they have decoded.

            “I’m not going to hurt you,” Siren silently announced in Italian, knowing they will be listening to her. “I’ll get you out of here immediately.”

            Ghost walked behind her, looking at the open cargo. A frown tugged on his lips. His job wasn’t easy and he lived with haunting images every night. Even if killing people wasn’t bringing him down, the rescuing missions always made him feel sick to the stomach. So much fear was lingering in the air, the muffled whimpers by the duct tape and he knew well his whole appearance wasn’t making them feel better. So for the first time, he was glad Siren was there.

            He watched how she said something in Italian, her tone was soothing. She worked on the binds of the first girl. A girl. She was not older than eight years old, her summer dress was ripped in some places and dirty. Her arms were visibly bruised and when Siren removed the duct tape from her mouth, she started to cry without a sound.

            She clung onto Siren immediately, silencing her sobs in her overstuffed vest. Lieutenant felt uneasy watching this, but he stepped inside, taking the binds off an older woman, hearing them all whimper louder.

            Siren said something in Italian again and he knew she was speaking about him. Hopefully, she wasn’t turning them against him. After her words, the women seemed to calm down just a little bit. Ghost gave a small pocket knife to the older woman, not knowing how to say that she should help the others, but she understood everything without telling her anything and got to work.

             “There are more in the other containers. Let’s go,” Siren urged in English, both of them leaving the container.

            Moving in different directions, the Lieutenant contacted Price, telling them that they should check all of the containers because there were victims inside. After that, they worked quickly and silently.

            There were about ten people and more in the containers—twelve containers in total. Most of them were women, from ages four to forty. Ghost tried to ignore the lump in his throat and not look them in the eye as he was trying to help them. However, he knew that whatever he saw today, will haunt him in the night as well.

            He overheard Siren opening the last container and she gasped, not saying anything. The man peeked his head through the container, watching her figure looking at the container, frozen. He quickly made his way to her, looking from behind her, noticing a pile of dead bodies just tossed on top of another. It smelled like rotten meat and excrement—fuck… Quickly, he grabbed the door of the container and closed it, making her turn around to face him.

            Her eyes were wide and teary—she was slightly away from him, not thinking straight at his moment. His gloved hands squeezed her shoulders tighter, making her pupils widen for a second before she looked at his eyes through the mask.

            “You with me?” His voice was rough and breathy—he was trying not to react to the dead bodies behind them.

            “Yeah—yeah,” she shook her head as if she was trying to snap out of it. Then she nodded, breathing in: “We checked all of the containers. Let’s get them to Gaz.”

            Clearly, she wasn’t okay, but he was in no position to soothe her. Now, all that mattered was to get these people to safety. It was their job. They will battle their emotions in the night.

            As Siren went to gather them up, he pressed on his comms:  “Gaz, get to the place of agreement. Over.”

            “Moving to the spot, Lieutenant,” Gaz’s voice reached him through the headset as they all agreed beforehand that if they would be able to find some of the kidnapped people, Gaz would show up at the entry of the whole warehouse complex, calling for some backup to transport the people into safety. 

            There were about one hundred people out of the containers. Some of the women were too weak to walk, but the others made sure to hold them in place. Ghost came closer to Siren, who was explaining everything to them in Italian, gesturing a few times to him. The same girl, who clung onto Siren before, quickly made her way to him, her bruised little fists grasping the end of his jacket. He looked down, his breath hitching, making him curse silently as this was reminding him of his past. Ghost could never understand how others were that evil to hurt children.

            That’s why he didn’t move her away from him—he could never. Even if he was surprised that she wasn’t scared of his skull mask, he had to realise that she has been through so much worse. And just like that, he scooped her in his arms as soon as Siren gave him the sign that they can go to the entry of the warehouse complex.

            There were a few relieved sounds coming from the people as soon as they were outside. As they went to Gaz, Price and Soap were there as well, with about fifty people as well.

            Siren took the initiative to explain to the poor people what was going on. The shaking figures of the people seemed to relax just a little bit, giving Ghost an opportunity to place the little girl beside him, making her grasp the end of his jacket as well. It made him realise that perhaps she was alone in here—Jesus, her parents must be going crazy. The girl was clinging onto him as if he was her saviour and he just wanted to hold her close and promise her that no one will hurt her again.

            A promise he once couldn’t keep.

            In the distance, he noticed Siren talking with one of the women. The poor woman was grasping Siren’s shoulders desperately, a quick conversation going between the two. Only then he noticed that Siren was slightly shaking—the view of the last container was following her. She looked tired. All of them were.

            Siren walked closer to them, announcing: “I’m going back in. One of them claims she had a little sister and they took her away. I will scoop the building once again.”

            “No, let me,” Soap disagreed. “We don’t speak Italian if somethin’ happens.”

            “Backup is coming—they’ll handle it,” she pointed out since the backup will be mostly Giovanni’s crew. “I’ll be quick. In and out.”

            Siren looked at Ghost, then down at the little girl, offering her a small smile. 

            “Alright. Go find her,” Ghost agreed and watched the way her figure faded away in the sea of containers.

            Siren tried not to think. Tried to stay professional. At least for now. She couldn’t break down at this moment. She got back into the right wing, not checking the containers again, but moving to the metal stairs that were at the end of the room. She quickly moved up, revealing a small watching area to the containers below.

            There wasn’t seem to be anything in there, but she moved to the end of it, seeing a door at the end of the corridor and she opened it. It was an office—well, papers were on the floor and everything was messy. It wasn’t used for working, but it was empty.

            Then thought that the sister of the woman could be in the container alongside the dead bodies made her take a deep breath and close her eyes. Placing her hands on her thighs, she leaned a little bit forwards and tried to control her breathing.

            She had to stay strong. For now.

            Shaking her head, she sniffed, blinking faster so that she wouldn’t cry and she turned around to leave before she noticed a closet. It was a shot in the dark, but she moved to it, opening the two doors and she breathed in deeply, her voice getting stuck in her throat.

            There was their trap.

            There was the little girl. Looking at her with wide, teary eyes, shaking like a little leaf. Her back was pressed against the wooden wall of the closet behind her, hands tied together in front of her, mouth taped shut as the little figure of her was wrapped in a time bomb.

            Turning on her comms, she pressed the button and opened her mouth to speak, but then she slightly moved to the side, watching the little screen on the side of the bomb, the numbers flashing how much time she had left: 00.01.30

            “I found the girl. She’s strapped to a bomb. I’ll get her out.”

            The four men furrowed their eyebrows immediately as they heard her voice through the comms, coming through a little whine of a small girl. Her words were slightly muffled, the static noise overtaking most of it, making the Captain move further away from the crowd of people.

            “Siren, repeat that. Did you find the girl?”

            Price shared a concerned look with Ghost and now they all understood what was happening—there was the trap.

            A distant Italian was heard coming through the static—she was talking with the little girl before some words reached them: “I repeat – there’s a bomb on the girl. A bomb.”

            Fuck.

            “Siren, can you get it off the girl?”

            More incoherent noises reached them all before the static ended—they lost her. Captain’s eyes widen and he choked out a breath: “I’m getting in there. Gaz, call the detonator team. We need them ASAP.”

            “I’m coming with you,” Soap nodded, but before any of them could move any further.

            A thud.

            The ground started to shake slightly as the metal down the hill started to shake, a burst of flames visible on the right wing. The saved people gasped loudly, moving slightly down, covering their ears as the glasses in the warehouse buildings shattered from the sudden explosion.

            “No,” Price whispered, moving closer, shaking his head. “No—no! NO!” He shouted, grasping his comms, and pressing the damn button: “Siren, please tell me you are there!”

            The radio was quiet.

            Ghost was looking into the flames coming from the warehouse building, covering the girl’s eyes, pressing her closer to his leg. His mouth turned dry—yet he couldn’t take away his eyes off the flames even if he wanted to run there and find her alive.

            That’s why he preferred working alone. That’s why he couldn’t listen to the desperate try of the Captain to contact Siren. That’s why he started to tremble slightly since they all knew that this was going to be a trap and they still let her walk back in there. Everything was going too smoothly that they forgot that this had to be planned as well.

            That’s why when a small child was running towards them, with smoked cheeks and loud cries that alerted the whole district, it made their hearts drop to the ground. The little girl was there. But another figure didn’t appear from the bright flames.

            Siren did her job.

Translations:

"Io le comprerei” - I'll buy her in Italian

“Non hai tutti quei soldi” - You don't have that much money in Italian

“Potrei rubarne uno. Ce ne sono molti altri" - I could steal one. There are many others in Italian

[double-croche1]

[CANNES 2023] NOTRE TOP

Le Festival de Cannes est désormais terminé. On a vu pas moins de 85 films (dont 19 sur les 21 de la Compétition), toutes catégories confondues ! Le classement de nos films préférés parmi ceux-ci, avec les dates annoncées de sortie en salles, ci-dessous :  1. ‘Eureka’ de Lisandro Alonso (CPR) 2. ‘Le Procès Goldman’ de Cédric Kahn (QC, 27/09) 3. ‘Anatomie d’une chute’ de Justine Triet (SOC, 23/08) 4. ‘Jeunesse (Le Printemps)’ de Wang Bing (SOC, 03/01/24) 5. ‘L'Enlèvement’ de Marco Bellocchio (SOC, 01/11) 6. ‘Les Feuilles mortes’ d’Aki Kaurismaki (SOC, 20/09) 7. ‘Fermer les yeux’ de Victor Erice (CPR, 16/08)  8. ‘May December’ de Todd Haynes (SOC) 9. ‘La Zone d’intérêt’ de Jonathan Glazer (SOC, 31/01/24) 10. ‘L'Eté dernier’ de Catherine Breillat (SOC, 13/09) 11. ‘The Sweet East’ de Sean Price Williams (QC) 12. ‘Los Delincuentes’ de Rodrigo Moreno (UCR, 27/03/24) 13. ‘La Grâce’ d’Ilya Povolotsky (QC) 14. ‘Only the River Flows’ de Shujun Wei (UCR) 15. ‘Les Herbes sèches’ de Nuri Bilge Ceylan (SOC, 12/07) 16. ‘Conann’ de Bertrand Mandico (QC, 28/11) 17. ‘La Chimère’ d’Alice Rohrwacher (SOC, 06/12) 18. ’La Fille de son père’ d’Erwan Le Duc (SM, 20/12) 19. ’Lost Country’ de Vladimir Perisič (SC, 11/10) 20. ‘Conte de feu’ de Weston Razooli (QC) 21. ‘Mars Express’ de Jérémie Périn (CPL, 22/11) 22. ‘Vers un avenir radieux’ de Nanni Moretti (SOC, 28/06) 23. ‘L’Autre Laurens’ de Claude Schmitz (QC, 04/10) 24. ‘Elémentaire’ de Peter Sohn (HC, 21/06) 25. ‘Banel & Adama’ de Ramata-Toulaye Sy (SOC, 30/08) 26. ‘Anselm, le bruit du temps’ de Wim Wenders (SS, 18/10) 27. ‘Le Règne animal’ de Thomas Cailley (UCR, 04/10) 28. ‘Simple comme Sylvain’ de Monia Chokri (UCR, 08/11) 29. ‘Ama Gloria’ de Marie Amachoukeli (SC, 30/08) 30. ‘Club Zéro’ de Jessica Hausner (SOC, 27/09) 31. ‘Linda veut du poulet !’ de Chiara Malta et Sébastien Laudenbach (ACID, 18/10) 32. ‘Si seulement je pouvais hiberner’ de Zoljargal Purevdash (UCR, 27/12) 33. ‘L’Amour et les forêts’ de Valérie Donzelli (CPR, en salles) 34. ‘La Mère de tous les mensonges’ d’Asmae El Moudir (UCR) 35. ‘Légua’ de Filipa Reis et João Miller Guerra 36. ‘The Feeling That the Time for Doing Something Has Passed’ de Joanna Arnow (QC) 37. ‘Augure’ de Baloji (UCR, 22/11) 38. ‘Les Colons’ de Felipe Galvez (UCR, 20/12) 39. ‘Vincent doit mourir’ de Stéphan Castang (SC, 15/11) 40. ‘De nos jours...’ de Hong Sang-soo (QC, 19/07) 41. ‘Merle merle mûre’ d’Elene Naveriani (QC) 42. ‘Dans la toile’ de Kim Jee-woon (HC, 08/11) 43. ‘The Old Oak’ de Ken Loach (SOC, 25/10) 44. ‘Monster’ de Hirokazu Kore-eda (SOC, 27/12) 45. ’Sleep’ de Jason Yu (SC) 46. ‘Occupied City’ de Steve McQueen (SS) 47. ‘Bonnard, Pierre et Marthe’ de Martin Provost (CPR) 48 ‘Goodbye Julia’ de Mohamed Kordofani (UCR, 08/11) 49. ‘L’Arbre aux papillons d’or’ de Thien An Pham (QC, 13/09) 50. ‘Chambre 999’ de Lubna Playoust (CC) 51. ‘Le Livre des solutions’ de Michel Gondry (QC, 13/09) 52. ‘Les Meutes’ de Kamal Lazraq (UCR, 19/07) 53. ‘Le Ravissement’ d’Iris Kaltenbäck (SC, 11/10) 54. ‘Little Girl Blue’ de Mona Achache (SS, 01/11) 55. ‘Creatura’ d’Elena Martín Gimeno (QC) 56. ‘Perfect Days’ de Wim Wenders (SOC, 29/11) 57. ‘Lost in the Night’ d’Amat Escalante (CPR, 04/10) 58. ‘La Fleur de Buriti’ de João Salaviza et Renée Nader (UCR) 59. ‘Le Syndrome des amours passées’ d’Ann Sirot et Raphaël Balboni (SC, 25/10) 60. ‘Un hiver à Yanji’ d’Anthony Chen (UCR, 22/11) 61. ’Power Alley’ de Lillah Halla (SC, 22/11) 62. ‘Asteroid City’ de Wes Anderson (SOC, 21/06) 63. ‘Une nuit’ d’Alex Lutz (UCR, 05/07) 64. ‘Les Filles d'Olfa’ de Kaouther Ben Hania (SOC, 05/07) 65. ‘Indiana Jones et le cadran de la destinée’ de James Mangold (HC, 28/06) 66. ‘Chroniques de Téhéran’ d’Ali Asgari & Alireza Khatami (UCR, 27/12) 67. ‘Acide’ de Just Philippot (SM, 20/09) 68. ‘Un prince’ de Pierre Creton (QC, 18/10) 69. ‘Déserts’ de Faouzi Bensaïdi (QC, 20/09) 70. ’Il pleut dans la maison’ de Paloma Sermon-Daï (SC) 71. ‘Rien à perdre’ de Delphine Deloget (UCR, 22/11) 72. ‘La Passion de Dodin Bouffant’ de Tran Anh Hung (SOC, 08/11) 73. ‘How to Have Sex’ de Molly Manning Walker (UCR, 15/11) 74. ‘Le Jeu de la reine’ de Karim Aïnouz (SOC, 28/02/24) 75. ‘A Song Sung Blue’ de Zihan Geng (QC, 06/12) 76. ‘Jeanne du Barry’ de Maïwenn (HC, en salles) 77. ‘Rosalie’ de Stéphanie di Giusto (UCR, 24/01/24) 78. ‘In Flames’ de Zarrar Kahn (QC) 79. ‘Hopeless’ de Kim Chang-hoon (UCR) 80. ’Tiger Stripes’ d’Amanda Nell Eu (SC, 13/03/24) 81. ‘The Idol’ (série, épisodes 1 et 2) de Sam Levinson (HC, 05/06) 82. ‘The New Boy’ de Warwick Thornton (UCR) 83. ‘Omar la Fraise’ d’Elias Belkeddar (SM, en salles) 84. ‘Hypnotic’ de Robert Rodriguez (SM, 23/08) 85. ‘Agra’ de Kanu Behl (QC) SOC : Sélection Officielle - Compétition UCR : Un Certain Regard CPR : Cannes Première CPL : Cinéma de la Plage HC : Hors Compétition QC : Quinzaine des Cinéastes SC : Semaine de la Critique SM : Séances de Minuit CC : Cannes Classics ACID : L’ACID Nos chroniques de ces films sont à retrouver dans les articles Daily #1 à #11 sur notre page dédiée.

A&B

[skittlespizza]

Hot take some of you treat carol and linda like shit and they deserve better.

The polycule answer is literally right there.

[velvaetalt]

All I Want For Christmas Is You

for @cuppakasha <3

god. i am so bad at writing with a word limit. sorry for the everything.

“Carol’s just waking up the baby, she’ll be down in a minute,” Vincent Moretti says, turning and walking back into the kitchen. “You can wait on the couch if you want.”

Linda and Leo venture cautiously into the Moretti house. Alex wastes no time finding the couch, however, and soon Leo joins him. Linda stands, watching them.

Vincent prepares food in the other room. She doesn’t expect much—this whole event is odd, considering the circumstances. Christmas Eve brunch between two ex-cons and their families. Linda laughs to herself. How did her life get this strange?

“Hello, everyone,” says Carol, a heap of cloth swaddled in her arms as she comes downstairs. “I’m glad you could come.”

She’s probably how.

Linda grins and walks over, pecking Carol on the cheek. “Hey, Carol. Thanks for inviting us.”

Alex gasps from behind her. “Is that the baby?”

Carol chuckles, stepping forward. “Yes, this is Julie. You haven’t met her, have you?”

“No. Can I?”

A throat clears, and everyone turns to see Vincent leaning in the doorway, drying his hands with a flowery dish towel. “We can do introductions over food. Soup’s on.”

They shuffle into the dining room. Leo elbows Vincent. They seem to have a conversation without words. Linda elbows Leo. “Be nice to the fed.”

“I’m being plenty nice to him,” he says, raising defensive hands.

They grab chow and sit around the table. Alex sits between Leo and Carol so he can see Julie. They can’t understand each other, but that doesn’t hinder their conversation. Linda sits on Carol’s other side.

They say grace and dig in. The food is amazing, and Leo’s quick to compliment it. Vincent smiles and waves his hand, brushing it off.

Then Linda notices—his ring is gone. He definitely had one when they first met.

She looks at Carol with beautiful Julie in her lap. She remembers the night before Mexico; they bared their hearts, fearing they’d never make it back. Carol said she was scared she’d married for nothing. She looks younger without the ring. A weight’s left her shoulders.

Linda can’t help her smile as she places her hand on Carol’s thigh, giving a gentle squeeze. Carol meets her eyes and smiles back.

“Merry Christmas, Caroline.”

Alex asks to hold Julie and grins down at her in his arms. Vincent gives Leo a recipe and apologizes for trying to arrest their wives. Carol pulls Linda aside and gives her a wrapped box with a bracelet inside. She insists, even when Linda says she has nothing to give back.

“You’ve given me more than I could ask for. This is a thank you.” She says, clasping it onto Linda’s wrist. “Merry Christmas.”

Linda kisses her with a smile, and they walk back to the living room. Leo’s messing with the record player, and Vincent kneels with a worried expression, prying something from Julie’s hands.

It’s not perfect by most regards. But it’s perfect for them. That’s all they could ever need.

fin.

[beautifulactres]

Linda Moretti (1921-2005)

[saturdaynightmovie]

Maria Grazia Cucinotta and  Linda Moretti in

IL Postino (The Postman) (1994) Director: Michael Radford