#Simon Property Group

[bunnys-kisses]

show-off (simon's version)

simon 'ghost' riley

cw: smut/pwp, size difference/kink, unprotected sex, outdoor sex, dirty talk, filthy, missionary, rough sex, mask kink, clothed sex, crying kink

price's version | johnny's version | kyle's version

simon loved his precious girl. he had been calling your "the missus" for months now. the task force was honestly surprised that simon managed to find someone. especially someone so.... cute? innocent? sweet?

the boys remembered one time you went all the way to base with a container full of homemade cookies because simon would be on base during his birthday. you somehow made your way onto base with no proper identification that would allow you on base. somehow you figured it out and ended up surprising simon with it.

so to get a video message in the group chat on a sunny afternoon was a bit of a surprise to price, johnny and kyle. simon never sent videos, he barely sent messages that were more than a word long.

so a lengthy video made the rest of the task force very interested.

"there's the pretty bird." simon cooed. you were all giggles as you tried to shield your face from the camera.

"si, stop it!" you giggled as you felt your cheeks grow hot under the lens of the camera. you were both outside in the backyard.

the task force knew about the high fence that protected the property you called home. even if someone could hear the both of you, it would take a lot for them to see it. the camera panned down to the sight of the skirt of your sundress pushed up to your waist and your panties were around your left ankle.

wasn't simon a gentleman letting you lie out on a checkered blanket. you had a smile on your face as the camera was pointed to you. the sound of simon undoing his belt, it was dropped by your head soon after.

your expression made it clear that simon had taken his cock out, your eyes went wide and the movement of your throat as you swallowed.

"tell the boys what you're lookin' at right now, birdie?" he asked, he let out a soft groan as he started to stroke his lengthy cock. he was situated at about seven and a half inches, almost eight if he was painfully hard.

you replied, "um.. hi, captain price, sergeants mactavish and garrick! i hope you're liking this video!" god you sounded so painfully cute. (by this point johnny had always came once, but he was working himself for a second round). you looked at simon, "it's embarrassing!"

"c'mon. it's nothing they haven't seen before." simon chuckled.

you made a face, "what are you doing when i'm not around?"

simon reached for you with his free hand and rubbed your soft cheek, "i mean in the showers, lovie. no one is takin' me from you."

you pouted, "good."

"now tell the boys what you see. give them a nice visual before i fuck you." simon's voice was soft. soft in a way that the rest of the team didn't even know if it was possible.

you looked up at the camera and held onto the bottom of your dress skirt that was bunched up around your waist. you looked embarrassed as you said, "si is wearing a green t-shirt and camo pants, he has his gloves with the bones on them, and his mask."

"do i look good, lovie?"

you nodded meekly, "you look very good, si!" you blushed more and smiled up at him. he used his free hand to put around your neck delicately, he wasn't choking you, just holding you. you leaned into his touch lovingly.

"but you're prettier, lovin' a dog like me." he laughed as he grabbed you by one hip and shifted your hips up. your cunt rested in his lap up against his cock. he tilted the camera down to get a good look at your glossy pussy.

he rubbed his impressive cock up against your pussy. how could something so big fit inside something so small. it was nothing short of a miracle.

"like that, lovie? like when i film ya for the boys?" simon chuckled as he stroked his cock and tapped it against the top of your pussy, "make ya open up for me."

you whined, "simon!!"

he chuckled lowly before he pressed his cock into your waiting hole. you made a low groaning noise as you clutched into the blanket under you. the wet noises sounded like a dream as you whimpered loudly.

simon kept the camera on your face and bouncing tits as he thrusted against you. the sounds of sex rang through the video as simon pleasured you. of course you looked like a sex goddess, your rightful throne on his cock.

you rolled your hips as he filmed you, his free hand on your bent knee as he moved against you. your cheeks looked warm as you panted heavily. the pleasure coursed through you.

"like what you see, boys?" he asked as he got a close up of your face as it was twisted with pleasure, "pretty little thing." he chuckled.

"si! please!' you whimpered, as you met his thrusts. they weren't extremely fast but they carried power that made your breath get caught in your throat. like he was moving your organs up with each thrust.

simon looked down at you, you couldn't read his expression due to the mask. you hated to admit but the thing was very attractive. it left him so mysterious as he rubbed your knee and held the camera in your face. he watched you with a knowing gaze, he knew what his teammates were thinking right now.

price was probably watching this with his morning coffee, johnny was stroking his cock like it was a lifeline, and kyle was casually watching it, monitoring your every facial expression. regardless the video would be in steady rotation in the task force 141's spank bank.

simon felt a surge of pride in his gut as he continued to fuck your sweet pussy, earning more sweet noises from you. it was adorable, you sounded like a dream to him. you were just the cutest thing ever, he couldn't even put into words how adorable he thought you were.

"pretty girl." his tongue was filthy, "everyone thinks you're the sweetest thing since sugar. but i've seen the damage you can do.' you love how big i am. you always said the bigger the better, even when it stretches your little cunny." you covered your face once more and he chuckled, "show me your face, lovie."

you slowly pulled your hands away and looked at the camera. he made a pleased noise as he continued to fuck you. you felt amazing wrapped around his cock. like a sexual fantasy come to life, it was arousing.

sometimes the arousal in you was so intense that you ended up tearing up. your bottom lip wobbled as he buried his cock into you, his balls gazed your ass as you took every last inch. you wiped your tears but simon only put the camera further in your face to get the best view of his crying little angel.

"poor girl, poor mrs. riley." he purred, "gettin' bullied by her hubby's fat cock."

you whimpered, "please, si." you felt your back arch as your heart thumped in your chest. the back of your sundress stuck to your sweaty back.

simon was a hungry man, a greedy, hungry man. he loved that his teammates are going to get off to the sounds of him fucking you. it wasn't long before the video's stabilization became a little off because simon was nearing his orgasm.

your clothed breasts bounced with each thrust, them almost tumbling out of the front of your sundress, and your tongue peeked out from your mouth as you panted heavily. it was arousing to the point where simon could feel his cock twitch inside of you.

"most beautiful thing ya ever seen." he said as his pace staggered and with a few thrusts, he pushed his cock all the way inside of you.

simon afterwards too his cock out, it was growing soft as he pulled out, a dribble of leftover cum came out.the camera for a brief moment showed your used cunt.

then the video ended. and there was an additional message from simon that read, "this isn't me sharing. i was just showin' off."

[syoddeye]

unedited soap x reader thing, through simon’s POV. based off an image in my inspiration folder.

cw: abduction, imprisonment, more medical inaccuracies we breeze right through. cages. italics.

simon drives slow through the backroads. he takes the time to avoid potholes and cracks in the neglected asphalt.

he whistles low when it transitions to gravel, eyes flicking up to the mirror to check his cargo. gaz does his best with an arm slung over the goods to try and keep it still. tries to not whack his head as the ride jostles him about the bed.

price’s big blocky hand painted letters on the signs let simon know they’re close. turn back and private property and no exit. proper warnings. generous, really, to the right people. more than simon would give any lost souls wandering all the way out here.

the property comes into view through the trees, and simon sees johnny at the woodpile. wide shoulders and back slicked with sweat and dirt, heaving the axe up and bringing it down hard. adding to a pile of split wood. he doesn’t need to. they all stocked up while he was out, but it gives him something to do. an outlet.

johnny came back after the bullet. mostly. but even with all the doctors and specialists supplied by two different governments, something was left behind in the tunnels. he wakes up ranting and raving, talks about a wife. a whole life he lived while he was out—comatose, that is.

johnny told them how he was medically discharged and moved house. how he met a bird who lived a floor above him, chatted her up, and managed to get it in. how he dated this girl, popped the question, and married. they were trying for their first mactavish, when he woke up. he came to in the hospital, delirious and sick, and quickly spiraled when he realized none of it was real. he nearly bludgeoned himself to death with a steel meal tray, hoping to go back down, to find her. it took him and gaz to pin him until someone could sedate him.

since then it’s been a group effort. a new mission. they got the first bit done easy. medical discharge. no one fought them on it. their johnny’s got a hole in his head and can’t go ten minutes alone when he’s conscious. the next step was more of a challenge. difficult to execute without tipping johnny off, putting him on a scent.

simon parks the truck beside price’s, and tells gaz to hang back. he finds his captain overseeing johnny from the porch.

it’s ‘ere. in one piece, primed and ready.

paperwork?

done. squared and filed.

i’ll bring him around.

simon waits with gaz. they hear johnny before they see him, swearing up a storm. clearly irritated, in one of his moods. poor thing, simon thinks.

price guides johnny to the front with a hand on his shoulder, pushing him forward when the scot stops in his tracks.

steamin’ jesus.

ya like ‘er? she’s all yours.

she’s—

from the clinic. we thought you’d like someone familiar.

simon watches johnny stagger forward. him and gaz come away from the open tailgate, giving the shark-eyed man a wide berth. price chuckles quietly when johnny’s fingers lace around the thin bars of the kennel. when he grins at the crude sign gaz wrote and reads it aloud: just married.

feels like a dream, johnny whispers, reaching in to stroke the temple of the terrified, bound and gagged woman in the cage.

for all their sakes, simon hopes it’s a good one.

[rileyslibrary]

After a night of heavy drinking and chaos, Ghost forces you to take accountability for your actions—every single one of them.

Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!Reader / 1.4k words

A/N: No warnings apart from mentions of alcohol and its consequences. There might be potential inaccuracies that I couldn’t verify. Plenty of scolding, but it ends fluffy.

———————————————————————

You don’t remember much from last night. Sure, there are glimpses here and there, but nothing to justify the physical pain you feel as your body struggles to stand at attention.

You shouldn’t worry much about it, though. Not when your furious lieutenant stands before you, serving you with the facts: You and your comrades meticulously organised a night out during your off-duty hours but failed to arrange a designated driver before getting drunk. No one could drive, so you carelessly left two cars out on the streets, accumulating a generous amount of parking tickets. To make matters worse, you chose to walk back to the base, parading through civilian-filled streets and ridiculing yourselves. And to top it off, you boldly entered the base in that sorry state, creating chaos.

Not remembering doesn’t excuse your actions; Ghost makes sure of that.

You stand in his office, lined up with the rest. There are five of you present—one to your left and three to your right—although you remember more from the night before. You presume the missing ones have committed greater offences, serving their “time” somewhere within the base, or perhaps they’ve been removed from the equation altogether. You wonder if that’s also your fate, and Ghost announces it in groups.

He stands before you with his arms crossed over his chest, giving you the lecture of your life and then some more. Every word that comes out of his mouth feels like a slap in the face. Even in those brief pausing moments, when his words can’t sting anymore, his eyes do all the talking.

That was the issue with the mask; there was no escaping his eyes. You couldn’t avert your attention elsewhere or focus “between his eyes” to ease the discomfort. Instead, you were forced to stare at those unforgiving, dark mirrors, confronting your shame head-on.

Once he finishes his lecture, he dismisses everyone and retreats behind his desk. You comply, lowering your head and making your way towards the door.

And then you hear it—the sound of his fingers snapping twice. You all turn to look at him.

“Except you,” he says.

You freeze in place, looking at his index finger pointing at you while everyone gets out. He skipped wearing his gloves today.

Ghost settles into his chair behind the desk and motions for you to sit in the one across from him. You comply, knowing there’s nothing else you can do except wish for the earth to open up and swallow you whole.

He fidgets with his chair, swivelling it left and right while he looks at you.

“Speak,” he orders.

“What do you want me to say?”

He stops swivelling and widens his eyes. You immediately straighten up and clear your throat.

“Sir, I understand you’re disappointed, but I assure you this was-”

“You understand?” he interrupts, leaning in closer and fixing you with narrowed eyes. “Military property smuggled out of the base, illegally parked on the road, racking up parking tickets, personnel stumbling through the streets intoxicated out of their fucking minds, cheering like bloody clowns while entering a military base?”

“I-”

“Yeah,” he says, nodding. “Thank you for understanding.”

You clench your jaw and shift your attention to the items on his desk—a stack of papers, a single pen, a stapler—anything other than his penetrating stare. But he doesn’t let you off that easily.

“How did you let that happen?” he asks softly. His eyes follow your line of focus and settle on the pen. He grabs it and starts rotating it between his fingers.

“W-well,” you begin, clasping your hands tightly in your lap. “It was on Saturday around eleven p.m.”

“Fucks sake!” he snaps, tossing the pen onto the desk. He reclines in his chair, putting his forearms on the armrests. “Is this how you want to go about it? Running in circles? What day and what time was it then?” he asks sarcastically, gesturing upward.

You lower your gaze to your lap, your hands sliding between your thighs and the chair, feeling your shoulders slump. You open your mouth to speak, but Ghost interrupts you.

“Did I ask you what day it was?”

“No, sir.”

“Did I ask about the time?”

“No, sir.”

“You want to guess why I didn’t?” he challenges.

You turn to face him. He shakes his head, forcefully pulling open his desk drawer and grabbing two papers that look like receipts.

“The bloody parking tickets told me,” he explains, shaking the papers. He throws them back into the drawer, slamming it shut, and leans forward. “Now, what did I ask you?”

“How it happened, sir.”

“No!” he yells. He takes a few breaths and lowers his voice. “How did you let that happen? That’s what I fucking asked.”

You shift your gaze to the bookshelf beside you. “I was as drunk as the rest, sir,” you murmur. “I couldn’t have driven either.”

“Oh, that I know,” he whispers. “I was right there when you broke into the base, slinging your shoes off your feet, trying to throw them as high as possible.”

You bring one hand to your forehead to conceal your embarrassment and murmur an apology.

He snaps his ungloved fingers at you, redirecting your attention to him. “Don’t be all shy now,” he says mockingly, “you were pretty bold with your advances last night.”

You spring your head up and widen your eyes. “A-advances, s-sir?”

He doesn’t reply but mirrors your facial expression—raised eyebrows, eyes wide open. Unlike yours, his demeanour isn’t one of surprise; it’s loaded with meaning.

You lower your head and shut your eyes.

There’s this silence again. The only sound that breaks it is the clicking of the pen. He must have picked up the one he threw earlier and is now playing with it. He lets out a long exhale.

“Why didn’t you call me?” he asks softly.

“Because I would get scolded for being irresponsible,” you murmur, shrugging.

“Yeah,” he scoffs. “Look at you getting a fucking medal now.”

“I’m sorry, Si-”

“Look at me,” he orders.

You lift your head and stare back at him. His expression has changed. His eyes are half-lidded and soft. He almost looks compassionate. Almost.

“You should have called me,” he says. “I would have come with Soap and Gaz to take care of the cars. We would have picked everyone up so no one would have to go through this.”

You click your tongue, roll your eyes, and sigh.

“I could have helped you,” he continues, softer than ever. “Any day, any time, any place, you know I would have.”

“I know,” you whisper, lowering your gaze to your lap.

“Look at me,” he repeats, leaning back in the chair. “How are you feeling?”

“Embarrassed,” you reply.

“No,” Ghost corrects. “Symptoms, after-effects of drinking; debrief me.”

“Well,” you say, “my head hurts, and so does my back. My throat feels scratchy.”

“Drink plenty of water,” he advises. “You threw up a lot last night.”

“I did?” you ask, placing a hand on your throat.

“I was the one who escorted you to your room and then straight to the loo so you could puke whatever you downed—ruined my gloves, too,” Ghost says, showing you the back of his right hand.

“Did I-”

“Yup.” He nods. “All over them.”

“I’ll buy you another pair, sir.”

“No need to do that,” he murmurs. “Price has included cleaning them as part of your punishment; a lovely zip-lock bag awaits you in his office.”

You nod and fiddle with a string hanging at the edge of the chair.

“Sir, about those advances...” you begin.

He huffs and begins rotating his chair left and right again. Now, he’s the one who looks down, almost shy to meet your gaze. His eyes soften, and they crinkle at the corners. You can’t see his lips, but you notice his cheekbones lifting. He doesn’t look offended or angry, like before. He looks flattered.

“I just told you that you’re about to meet with the captain, and you’re worried about that?” He asks, standing up from his chair, avoiding eye contact. “Check your priorities and remember to call me next time.”

“Yes, sir.”

He lets out another huff and shakes his head. “Dismissed,” he says, flicking his wrist at you.

———————————————————————

[qwimchii]

𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘴 (pt 5) — 𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘙𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺

playlist pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 pt 5 pt 6

𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘹 𝘤𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯!𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 — 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘧𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘸𝘤 — 3.3k

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 — 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴/𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 — 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘸𝘸 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘳𝘳𝘯𝘯𝘯, 𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘬𝘦𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘤����𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘰𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘣𝘪𝘢, 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦?, 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘧𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘳, 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨

note: i had no idea that i posted this almost an entire WEEK AGO?? istg it was only 2 days ago 😭 sorry for the wait lovlies, here's some unhinged content for you ❤️

the next few weeks passed in a dizzying flurry. work became busy and you got caught up between group work and your personal life—an old friend from college visited town, your mom and dad’s memorial service passed in a flash, and you worked at the halloween costumes, carving a few little pumpkins every now and then as decor for the church stands. the halloween festival was just hours away, and there was another group meeting scheduled just before it.

you dreaded it.

Simon and you had not spoken once outside of the meetings. just polite remarks and a yawning chasm that cleaved the space between you. to say it was awkward was an understatement.

you thought back two weeks prior when you were isolated in the church basement.

you didn’t mean it?

yeah. none of it.

the memory was a splintering reminder that Simon didn’t want you. at least, not in the way you wanted him. retracing the footsteps of your mind over and over, you tried to figure out where you had gone wrong.

maybe from the beginning, you thought bitterly, failing to forget your rude, blunt behavior towards him. you guessed you deserved his treatment, though you didn’t expect him to make fun of you the way that he did.

have you never dated before? do you even know how to kiss someone?

just the thought of it made you wince as you entered the meeting room, later than usual. a dozen faces stared back at you, and Kate stopped mid-talk, eyes narrowed with something only you could decipher as worry. you just mumbled a quick apology, settling in your seat in the circle across from Simon, avoiding his eyes.

Sarah nudged you with her foot in greeting as Kate continued whatever talk she was going on about. out of habit, you half-tuned her out as Maya pat your knee softly.

from what you absorbed out of the random bursts of Kate’s words, the group met early to set up the stalls in front of the church. there’d be a costume rack, photo booth, pumpkin carving booth, face painting, and a couple tables for the bake sale—which wasn’t really a bake sale, but free baked goods because it was sinful to sell on church property, or something like that.

the church did the same events every year so none of it surprised you till Kate was saying, “now get dressed into your own costumes.”

what?

that was definitely new, you realized with a stiffness, looking around the group moving toward the exit of the meeting room with bags of, what you assumed, to be costumes.

when you didn’t budge, Sarah and Maya standing and grabbing their own things, they both paused, giving you curious looks.

Maya called your name in question and you just stayed stock still in your chair, feeling like life was being drained from your blood.

“oh my gosh,” Sarah said, a slow, impish smile spreading over your lips. Kate’s head immediately snapped up from her desk, looking pale and panicked.

“what? what is it?”

Maya pointed at you. “you didn’t bring a costume.”

your voice was high strung and tight. “i didn’t know we needed one.”

Sarah laughed out, long and airy, before gliding out the meeting room, absolutely beside herself.

Kate sounded peeved. “did you not look at the email chain?”

email, you thought, a stale taste in your mouth, who the fuck uses email these days?

Maya offered you a look of sympathy. “maybe run home really quick?”

Kate stood at her desk, just shaking her head. “don’t worry. i planned for this.”

she shooed Maya away and tugged over a plastic box from her desk, popping open the lid. inside it were an array of outfits.

she gestured to it. “pick one.”

sighing, you crouched down and pulled out the first costume that caught your eye—a greenish, white airy dress. turning it around, you realized floppy wings were already sown into the back of it. 

snatching up your purse, you tucked the dress under your arm, about to make a beeline for the bathroom when Kate clutched your elbow, pulling back to her.

with a muffled noise of surprise, your brow furrowed at the pinched look of concern over her face. 

“halloween is your favorite holiday,” she chewed out, “why aren’t you acting like it is?”

“what?” you spluttered. technically, halloween was in two days. the festival happened just prior. 

you could’ve been a smart ass about it, but instead you bit back the retort, because you knew what she meant. usually, you’d be ecstatic the whole month before halloween. but these days, only a circling, endless pit of dread followed you to sleep, and was still there when you woke every morning.

“what’s wrong, hon’?” she pressed and you just shook your head with a laugh, lying through clenched teeth.

“nothing.”

you knew she didn’t believe you for a second because her grip only tightened on your elbow. “is there something going on between you and Simon?”

your gaze widened for a split-second, before you blinked it away, eyes darting away from hers. “of course not.”

she just scoffed. “like hell there’s not.”

you rolled your eyes. “not in the lord’s house, Kate—”

“listen to me,” she said, jerking you closer to her, and you muffled a yelp. “if there’s not something wrong with you, then there’s definitely something wrong with Simon. he was doing better. now he’s… acting strange.”

you cocked a brow at her. “he’s always a bit strange.”

she eyed you in return. “not as strange as how you’ve been acting.”

“ouch. that hurts,” you deadpanned, shaking free from her grip. she relented with a low grumble.

rubbing at her temple, she sighed as you turned from before, stopping you when she said, “just smooth out whatever’s going on between you. he’s going back for work soon.”

your blood ran cold. “what?”

“he won’t be on leave for another couple of months, so i suggest you talk to him today,” she said, moving to her desk. 

you stared after her, wanting to ask more, but bit down on your tongue when a couple girls, chattering between each other, returned from the bathroom.

in their stead, you trudged down the hallway and into the old bathroom with a flickering, artificial lighting burning down overhead. in a stall, you stripped yourself and shimmied into the dress, the cheap fabric grating against your skin, but you wouldn’t complain since this situation had arisen due to your own fault.

moving past a couple other girls by the sinks, exchanging a couple words with them, a genuine smile twisting your lips, but then you looked at yourself in the mirror and almost cringed. the dress was a lot more revealing than you would have ever chosen for yourself in public—hugging at your body in the way your baggy outfits did not.

Iris stepped out of one of the stalls, whistling lowly. “lookin’ good, girlie.”

with a blush, you mumbled a thanks, digging around your purse for your makeup bag that you, thankfully, had shoved into your purse on a whim before work that morning. opening it, you began to apply a thing base, then soft shimmers around your eyes, attempting to look as fairy-like as you could.

“who are you trying to look good for?” Iris asked beside you, squinting into the mirror to brush mascara over her lashes. 

with a bitter feeling, you noticed its brand. dior.

you choked a strained laugh, waving her off. “just the endless line of ladies.”

“right,” she sang, and you flinched when she put down the tube of makeup with a loud clunk against the porcelain sink. “‘cause you and i both know that you’re lesbian.”

you paused at that, brushing away the last bits of powder on your face. through the mirror, the girls behind you, Iris’s friends in the group, had fallen silent. 

you glanced at her through your peripheral. “what do you mean by that?”

she turned to you, lips screwed in a thin line, hand on her hip.

“how long have you been fucking Simon for?”

jaw dropping, and you turned to look at her, taking in the intensity of her hot glare and the angry twitch of her features. 

you should’ve denied it, but remembering the way she clung to Simon after the night of the party, all bashful and talkative with him, your own anger simmered to the surface.

“none of your business,” you said in a cool voice, turning back to the mirror to finish with a light blush over your nose and cheeks.

she scoffed. “you’re a bitch.”

your brows twitched together, and you reached up to rub at the spot, willing it away. “okay.”

she stepped towards you, jerking her hand up so it almost knocked against your face, the tip of her acrylic pressed to your cheek.

“you always complain about how much you hate men, but as soon as you go near one, you’re start fucking them.”

you completely ignored her. “i don’t know what you’re talking about. why do you care about my personal business?”

she laughed, long and mirthless. “because you’re airing it out at every meeting, whore.”

you screwed your eyes shut, an icy feeling churning inside you. this was exactly what you were afraid of when new members joined the group. your simmering anger rose to a boil, and you swallowed the heat down, trying to lock it down in your stomach.

“don’t you have a husband? maybe you should pay more attention to that cheating bastard than a random guy you met at a support group.”

“excuse me?” she seethed, and you couldn’t help but give her your most shit-eating smirk.

“what? too boring being a housewife, doing nothing all day long? fucking men for money—”

the noise she let out was carnal, raking a hand through your hair and jerking on it hard, so your head pulled back with a painful snap. the girls behind you screamed, and a blur of a person rushed forward to clutch tightly at Iris’s neck and push her off you.

“you bitch-ass, motherfucking whore—” 

your jaw dropped at the sight of Maya slamming her against the tile wall, clawing at each other like two rapid cats before Sarah stumbled through the scene from a bathroom stall, screaming bloody murder.

one of Iris’s friends came up and fixed the state of your dress and hair, apologizing profusely for her friend, and you didn’t know whether to be angry at the girl, or thank her, as Iris’s friends scurried out of the bathroom quickly. you felt like you were in a daze, watching Iris drag Sarah by her hair before Sarah reached up and ripped through Iris’s hair so they were locked between each other, hands tangled in each other’s hair.

Maya was clutching at the wall, gulping down mouthfuls of air before she limped over and stomped on Iris’s open-toed sandals with a ferocity. she screamed, crumpling to the floor, releasing Sarah from the bind as she fell to her knees.

the three women stilled for a moment, panting with effort. 

“what in the actual fuck…” you trailed off, unsure what to say after the scathing events of the fight.

Sarah’s hands were on her hips, knees looking wobbled as she rasped between gasps, “we couldn’t let this whore bad-mouth you like that.”

she jerked a thumb over at Iris who had braced herself against the floor, leaning over her palms with heavy, gasping breaths.

Maya stumbled over to you, wobbly on her heels, and you enveloped her in a hug, trying to smooth out her hair to the best of your ability.

“you guys…” you started, choking up when tears brimmed at the edge of your eyes. Maya only hugged you tighter and Sarah limped over, cooing softly as she joined the hug, squeezing you tight.

“don’t ruin your makeup,” Maya sniffled against your shoulder, your dress absorbing her tears.

you quickly wiped at your face with a nod, clutching at Maya and your other hand holding Sarah’s cheek.

when Iris stood, leaning against the bathroom sink, the hug broke apart.

she glared at you, clawing the hair from her face. “are you done?”

sending Sarah and Maya a quick glance, you gave them a curt nod, and they obliged, stomping out of the bathroom. Sarah turned to flip Iris off on her way out, the latter girl just rolling her eyes at the sight.

when there was silence once more, you turned to the girl, taking in how disheveled and… normal she looked for once.

“your hair—” you said, pointing to your own head, and she whipped around to look in the mirror. hastily, she scrambled around for her brush but you just sighed and picked up your own on the sink, stilling her with a light grip on her shoulder. you brushed through her brunette curls with a soft hand as she glared at you through the mirror.

“let’s talk,” you offered, putting down the brush when you were done. “and let’s be civilized about it.”

she hmphed, not looking at you. “what is there to even talk about?”

you shrugged. “clearly, something is bothering you.”

“yeah,” she said, rolling her eyes. “your relationship with Simon.”

you bit back your own retort to remind her that she was married. “we’re just friends.”

her brow quirked at that, looking unconvinced. “really?”

“for now,” you said with a nod, and her shoulders deflated.

“i knew there was something going on,” she said, sounding morose, eyes flickering with a distant haziness.

“you could’ve just asked me,” you sighed out, and her eyes snapped to yours again, flashing with irritation now.

“i did.”

how long have you been fucking Simon for?

at the memory of it, you flinched. “maybe more politely next time.”

she just huffed, brushing out the wrinkles of her witchy dress. “you won’t tell Kate about this?”

you scowled at her before, slowly, your lips twitched into a devilish smirk. her eyes darted nervously through the mirror, inching away from you.

“i won’t, because we played fair and square today.”

“what do you mean?” she chewed out, voice icy.

“you got to talk shit, and my girls fucked you up,” you said with a nasty grin, wholly enjoying when she shivered.

stepping away from you, she cleared her throat. “right.”

it was like she remembered where she was and who she was again, gathering her things and shoving them into her stupidly expensive bag with a poised expression. you watched in amazement at the calm, collected veneer that overtook her in a second, turning on her heel to strut out of the bathroom with an elegance before jumping with a shriek at the entrance.

you quickly trailed after her, rounding up your things in one, sweeping armful and shoving them into your own purse, your eyes moving up the way her spin shook to the sight over her shoulder.

a foot away, a man stood in front of the women’s restroom, a white, plastic skull outer layer over a black balaclava. at the sight of him, you muffled a squeak, bristling with shock.

but then your eyes trailed down to the rest of his attire—a sweatshirt, jeans, boots, and… gloves. skull ones, in fact.

“Simon,” you deadpanned, glaring at him from over Iris’s shoulder, “what the hell are you doing?”

“this is Simon?” Iris shrieked, shuffling backwards, knocking into you.

“i heard screaming,” he said, voice gruff and slightly muffled under the mask. “is everything alright?”

you rolled your eyes. he was a bit late for that.

“everything’s fine,” you confirmed, gently pushing Iris out the doorway. she squeezed past Simon, not giving him or you a second glance as she rushed down the hallway and into the meeting room.

the hulking man stared after her, before turning his head to blink down at you. even under that stupid mask, his big brown eyes were still the same.

“what happened?” he asked and you just shook your head.

“you really don’t want to know.”

he let out a low noise of disapproval and you waved him away, edging forward so he stepped further back into the hallway.

“there is one problem though,” you said, cocking your brow at him.

he stepped forward again, reaching a hand out to you, but you just shook your head again with a huff. “that mask.”

suddenly, his eyes pinched, and he reached up to trace the divets of the outer skull layer.

“what’s wrong with my mask?”

the genuine hurt in his voice had you smothering a smile. “nothing. just not for children. you can’t wear that at a church halloween event.”

he was silent for a long moment, eyes narrowed like he was weighing the pros and cons of what you had just said, before sighing out.

“fine,” he grumbled, unclasping the front of it and pulling off the baclava, leaving his hair slicked up in a strange, messy clump.

biting back a laugh at the sight, you made your way back down the hallway. Simon’s careful footsteps were just behind you as you stepped back into the meeting room.

the girls were loitering around for a bit, gathering up needed materials to set up the booths. Sarah and Maya chattered with the better half of them who were blissfully unaware of what had just gone down in the bathroom. Iris eyed you from her posse carefully, watching you move near Kate with a tenseness, but you just passed her, instead moving to the box of adult costumes. you rummaged around in it, struggling and failing to find any size that may potentially fit the massive man.

groping around at the very bottom, your hand closed around something small and prickly, and you pulled it from the box with a snort, eying it in your hand.

turning around, you shoved it against Simon’s chest, and he didn’t even flinch, just taking the thing from your hand slowly.

“no,” he said immediately.

“it’s the only thing we have,” you said, sighing out, gesturing to the box behind you. Kate looked up from her desk curiously now, eyes flitting between you and Simon, then seeing the thing in his hands and choking down a laugh.

he glared at her from his peripheral, his scowl deep when he tugged it over his head.

a smile tugged at your lips, and you pressed them together, failing to hold back a little giggle at the sight of the tinsel cat ear headband on his head.

“adorable,” you cackled, slapping two hands over your mouth, trying to muffle your laughter beneath your palms but you couldn’t cease the shake of your shoulders.

his scowl only deepened, shoving his hands into his pockets with a grumpy look.

Kate hummed approvingly by your side, failing to keep her voice even. “looks great, lieutenant.”

he shot both of you a glare before slinking away and taking a seat nearby, but not before he was flanked by some of the girls fussing over his costume. they insisted on painting a nose and whiskers on him in loud, sharp demands and he didn’t even try to hide their irritation with them. but nonetheless, he relented, and Sarah pulled out her liquid eyeliner.

you watched the whole scene with shaking trembles of silent laughter, crumpling into a seat near you, and he kept glaring at you from his peripheral. once your laughter subsided, you leaned back into your chair, the sight of the girls pester him, full of laughter, and the smallest smile stretching Simon’s face had your chest feeling full of gooey content. he lazily looked over to you, a small black nose and whiskers across his cheeks, dark eyes sparkling as his warm gaze ran over you.

cute, you mouthed, pointing at your own cheeks and he just scoffed, turning his gaze from you, but his smile only widened.

yeah this part's kinda crazy (and maybe borderline cringe?) but iris had it coming for her so idkkkk—

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[the-gone-ton]

Philadelphia Mills, originally Franklin Mills, is one of the biggest malls in Pennsylvania and it is on the way out. The mall's longtime owner, Simon Property Group, has decided the mall isn't worth the mortgage anymore, so they've given it up to the banks. I went here a few years back and didn't take pictures because it was too crowded & too bland. It's still bland, but now it's dead enough to make the cut.

[fic-heaven]

All for a pair of tits (Ghost x witty! Reader)

Part 1 / pt 2 "where we left off."

Not edited/ Nsfw/ Kyle likes reader/ a bit of jealous Ghost/ tourism stuff.

🐥omg I made a part 2 as requested 😩 👐???

🐥I hope you guys like it because the first part rocked my page xd I won't stop receiving notifications and someone asked for a second part on the comments so here we go again.

.

The mission finished faster than Ghost had predicted with the objective captured and the whole building (and most of his other businesses and properties) sealed and under close investigation.

Price had taken it upon himself to finish all the paperwork that same night and urged you all to do the same, so in compensation you'd have two free days to enjoy Prague. And what a tempting plan that was.

When you arrived here, none of you got overly excited of coming to the beautiful, artsy capital of the Czech Republic, thinking you only came here to accomplish the mission and leave, but the moment John offered two days to unwind and explore the city, none of you protested and eagerly obliged. In consequence, your group didn't get more than three hours of sleep before Price woke you all at seven in the morning to leave the hotel and move to another different one.

"Y'guys gotta pay for your own rooms, this isn't part of the work trip no more, so until we head back to England whatever we buy will come outta our pockets."

All of you groggily grunted, nodded or hummed in reply tiredly carrying everything to the taxies. Of course your group was used to getting little to no sleep, but the flight here and the whole acting, acrobatics and paperwork regarding the mission made your tired bodies melt at the mention of a well-deserved two-day vacation.

"Show me the hotel again, cap." You huffed struggling to get accommodated on your seat as you were squished between Soap and your cases.

"Say that again, (y/n)."

"Jesus. Could you, my sweet dear captain, pretty please show me again the hotel we're staying over?" You rephrased in a sickenly sweet voice.

John chuckled handing you his phone from the copilot seat when Soap quickly snatched it before you could take it. You two started throwing hands at one another with curses and giggles and you swore the driver bit down his tongue trying to stay quiet and professional. Mostly because of how intimidating you all looked. But you were sure this guy was more relieved to drive your group of three, feeling luckier than the woman driver assigned to carry one sleep deprived Ghost and Gaz with the rest of the cases.

Talking about the lieutenant. Ghost missed you.

After the mission, the ball, the persecution, the whole talk with Laswell and the CIA, clearing the misunderstanding with the Czech police, the long hours of paperwork, the short breakfast and finally, the taxies' distribution, you didn't do much than groggily muster a good morning his way. Simon was never sure about what was going through your head because you can be very unpredictable at times, but he couldn't get the intense intimate moment you two shared on Soap's room out of his head and hoped you did as well. Of course Simon couldn't also forget the stench of the monster shit that came out of Johnny's anal rectum and cooked for over half an hour in that small bathroom. But fuck, he only had to remember your tits bouncing Infront of the the vanity's mirror and the nightmare would go away fast. Exactly for that reason, he didn't complain when he was paired up with Gaz because he didn't want to be in between you (the boobies' dream) and Soap (the farting nightmare), at least until you guys arrived to the new hotel.

The place was nice, it had an interior pool and even a small Japanese garden Ghost was sure Johnny would love to visit at night to draw and write on his journal, it also seemed like an amazing place to enjoy breaking his two week rate of not smoking after he also broke his two month rate of not masturbating. Yes, you were too impactful for him and also worth falling back to his additions.

The hotel held just a speck of many art styles Prague was known for. You and Gaz were so eager to explore the city that once all of you were inside, as Price had already booked five rooms, you took your keys quickly, planned to take a very quick nap and meet at the reception to eat out. Soap whined that you two weren't including him so you comforted him and apologized telling him about the plan, John also tagged along offering Ghost to do so as well but he was PISSED and none of you knew exactly why.

How dare you leave him out of the plan? Of course you seemed too tired to explain everything to everyone and Gaz was the one who first offered you to make this trip with him, but didn't you notice Simon's intense stare? Didn't you crave to continue where you two left off? Wait, is Gaz looking at you funny? Maybe he was trying to get closer to you, maybe the young lad misunderstood the dance you two had as you managed to get into the criminal's private party and tried to pursue you. Fuck, Ghost has gone nuts. He can't go around behaving like a jealous teenager with a crush.

"Whatever... Just lead the way." Ghost grunted when you all pressed him to join you instead of closing himself on the hotel's room.

Simon was hoping that after you all took the keys and left to your rooms, he could get a word with you alone. But to his dismay, Gaz had you trapped in the hall eagerly monologuing about multiple topics all from the marvelous places you would visit, your tired brain couldn't keep up with everything so you nodded at anything he said with this cute, sleepy face, struggling to keep your pretty eyes open and your sweet smile breaking from time to time to yawn. Simon decided to take mercy on you putting his steel armor on, marching your way to rescue the sleepy beauty from the sharp claws of the talkative dragon. Ghost didn't say a word just threw his cases inside his room, walked your way, picked you up bridal style breaking Gaz from his monologue and took you to your room's door, you lazily opened it when he let you down slowly.

"Nighty-night..." You yawned before Ghost abruptly closed your door, he had already left your case on the wardrobe next to the door before he left you to rest. You'd thank him properly once you have taken an hour of sleep.

______

When Gaz knocked on your door you were already dressed with civilian clothes, less tactical, more casual. Price wasn't feeling too sure about leaving part of the gear on the hotel but as it turns out, most of the hotel staff knew the captain as they were Laswell's old friends and longtime contacts, it was Laswell who offered Price this hotel and made it all the more cheaper due to her connection with your unit so all your gear and important stuff was safe and closely watched over.

Prague was beautiful.

Gaz had told you about this strange feeling of wholesomeness and wonder one feels when they travel and you didn't understand it up until now. Of course you had traveled before... But only for work stuff. So getting to explore the Prague had made you giddy to feel such thing.

As you two went to the lobby you met Price and Soap wandering about on the hotel's tiny souvenirs shop. There, you also found Ghost, he was wearing a dark blue, cozy hoody with the England's flag in it under an old black and grey jacket, some jeans and a white surgical mask. You approached him from behind, his dirty blonde hair seemed gold near the old lamp's light that was situated on his left side, his brown eyes were inspecting the beautiful postals displayed on the front wall. He seemed bored but you knew the big lieutenant was as curious about this city as all of you. He was so handsome.

"You're awake." Simon simply said, eyes switching from postal to postal.

"Are you excited we're scaping work for two days?" You purred nudging his shoulder with your head as you faced the same wall.

Ghost looked down your way, a small smile under his surgical mask. He can't stay mad at you when you lean to him this way. It's like you suck up all the anger you make him feel with your mere presence and touch.

"It's... Good."

"Just good, huh?"

"Prague is nice."

Ghost was so dry, but even that was endearing for you.

"But...? You rather stay in the land of tea n' biscuits-"

"I'd rather stay in my hotel room with you." He bluntly interrupted you.

You were expecting a comment like this but to actually hear it from your lieutenant was arousing as hell.

"I thought we weren't supposed to fraternize." You smirked teasingly.

But that seemed to dry the arousal from your lieutenant who now stared blankly at you before he moved away as Johnny called you two from the door announcing you were all leaving the hotel.

Well shit. Fuck. Wrong line.

______

The autumn foliage made Prague look otherworldly, specks of orange here and there sparkled the city and accompanied your group as your eyes marveled on every store you visited and every building you got to see. Gothic, Art Nouveau, Cubism, and Surrealism were the main artistic styles that influenced the architecture and street art of this gorgeous city.

Gaz and Soap had made a list of all the most remarkable places in Prague: Franz Kafka's museum, Tyn cathedral, Prague's Castle, the Spanish Synagogue, the tragic Jewish Museum... Overall, gigantic castles and impressive cathedrals, very interesting museums and street art, it was very hard to pick where to start. You obviously couldn't see it all in two days, but the little time you had was enough to visit some of those places.

You guys spent an hour marveling over anything and everything and were enjoying a second breakfast on a cafe near the very famous Astronomical Clock listening to Gaz fawning over the beauty of Prague saying things like: "Did you know Mozart lived here?", "The second ugliest building in the whole world is in Prague, we must visit it!" Or "Petrin Tower has the best view of the whole city, captain. We'll take amazing pics from there!" Kyle looked so adorable, his young features lighting up in excitement and wonder.

As the clock marked 9:00 the twelve apostles appeared on the clock's building making a show for the tourists to gawk at. Your group included. Gaz almost fell out of his chair trying to capture every second of the show with his new phone (he accidentally carried his old one to this mission and when he got shot, the bloody bullet impacted right on the screen destroying the device but saving his life. Lucky bastard.), Soap also tried to film the show but the dumbass forgot to charge his phone and it died on him just when he opened the camera so you gave him yours instead and he, like a happy kid with a new toy, took it with a grin and begun inflating your gallery with pictures and videos. Price chuckled picking up a new conversation you eagerly joined. The topic? Who was the laziest of you all.

"Soap." Ghost accused running an arm around the back of your chair. You smiled up at him and Ghost gave you a short, soft glance. He didn't seem angry or annoyed anymore, Prague's beauty seemed to work it's magic on calming the Manchester beast.

"ME!?" Soap almost dropped your phone and you smacked his arm so hard his tattoo could have very well left his skin.

"You know why I favor lazy soldiers on hard jobs? Because the muppets always find creative ways to finish shit faster." John smirked behind his cup seeing how that last wip of his made Gaz and Soap actually compete on who of them two was the laziest just to impress Price. The idiots... You loved them.

And your endearment for the two Sargeants you considered little brothers, was evident in your light chuckles and giggles at each story they told about their laziness. Ghost found himself staring so deeply into you enamoured by your light laughter that everything muffled around him. Price shot your way a teasing wink when he noticed Simon's trance, to his surprise, you winked back and looked back at your lieutenant with the same affection, and instead of showing you any embarrassment Ghost simply gave your arm a soft squeeze with the hand that previously gripped the back of your chair and redirected his attention to the conversation as if you two hadn't just shared an intense staring competition.

Back to the OTHER competition of who was the laziest: Gaz won just by sharing the dumbest anecdote of how a few months back when he was flying to visit his parents, he had downloaded a clapping sound on his phone so when people started clapping as the plane landed he just played the sound at full volume.

You all resumed your trip and kept exploring the city before enjoying lunch at a beautiful restaurant and at the very last minute Price offered to take the Big Bus which would take you on a tour around the city and for an extra amount of money you could go on a river cruise across the Vltava River. To your absolute surprise it was Ghost who offered to buy your ticket and so, all of you enjoyed the guided tour until your team stood up to leave the bus at a certain stop. All of them but Ghost. Price shot you two a knowing look before you parted ways with a rushed goodbye just when Ghost gripped the hem of your hoodie to stop you.

"We are not... Joining the others?" You asked a bit baffled and confused, Simon smiled under the plain white surgical mask, urged you to sit down with him and you accommodated yourself by him with his arm firmly wrapped around your shoulders.

"I thought you'd like to see the river with me." He purred and you shot him a bright toothy smile, your eyes widening.

"We're taking the river cruise!'' You exclaimed.

"...Surprise." He lowly said in a sing-song tone, his cheeks slightly flushed in embarrassment enjoying the delight in your eyes.

"Simon Riley, I never thought you'd be the romantic type." You teased. God forbid you from ruining the moment with your teases once more.

"I can be romantic." Ghost said looking away as if seeking a reaction out of you, name it surprise or amusement or whatever. But instead you huffed, nudged the underside of his chin with your head and nuzzled closer surprising the Lieutenant.

"I'm sure you can, Si." And you said it so softly, with no mocking tone or sarcasm or anything. It squeezed his heart in ways he couldn't imagine possible. That nickname you just called him... You were so adorable, this couldn't get more perfect.

______

The cruise was surprisingly emptier than he had expected, perhaps it was because of the date, the weather or how expensive it was, but Ghost was in bliss.

You two were cuddling on the spot you had chosen with Ghost resting his chin on your shoulder as you two enjoyed the view of the river, an earplug on your right ear and the other on his left while you listened to a gentle (very romantic and fitting) playlist Ghost shared from his phone, the boat swings slowly as if lulling you, Prague was breathtaking and the multiple orange leaves that rained down from the nearby trees decorated the surface of the river in such way that entranced you two.

Do you know this feeling you get when you instantly think "This is totally going to be a core memory."? Well, that's how you were feeling. And Ghost? He was so at peace with you on his arms on this beautiful scenery right on his favorite season of the year. His favorite person on his arms in a foreign country just after capturing a mafia boss, this must be a dream. Simon craved to say that he loves you right then and there, the fantasy playing on his head of your warm embrace and your lips against his made him feel lightheaded nuzzling his face closer pressing his cheek firmly on yours. His heart skipped a beat when you quickly moved to place a short peck that landed on his surgical mask above the side of his nose. He leaned back and you cursed lowly thinking you messed up until your lieutenant's scarred hands went to take his mask off. Simon looks at you softly, his thin lips spread into a soft timid smile as some leaves from a nearby tree landed on his hair and jacket. He looked beautiful, and he thought the exact same thing about you.

"I..." You whisper breathless at the sight, and for once in your life you couldn't find your words as they were lost at the beautiful view of Simon with that beautiful stern but softened gaze. He looked angelic even, the memories of his enraged bloodied form during battle were lost and forgotten momentarily to make place for a new memory of this handsome man staring at you with so much love and devotion your eyes begun tearing up. Ghost shivered a bit, his smile lightly widening, he could feel the love overwhelming you so much your tears slid down and his heart beat faster. He knew what you wanted to say. He knew his (y/n).

"I do too." Simon said.

He leaned the slightest bit then and you did as well, suddenly too nervous to say anything until-

"Mister! A rose for the wife?" Said an old man that happened to pass by your seats with a bouquet of gorgeous white roses.

"W-wife?" It's the first time you ever heard Simon stutter but you knew better than to tease him about it.

"Sure!" You chirped buying him a rose and he was so stunned his big beautiful chestnut eyes followed every move you made until the old man left and you were placing the rose on his chest.

"A beautiful rose for my beautiful wife~" You snicker.

"I don't think he meant me, love."

"Why! He was looking at me while he said that!"

"Maybe's cuz' the old man's sight was fucked."

"He didn't correct me though!"

Ghost sighs, his shoulders shagging as he sneakily sniffs the beautiful rose on his chest and he couldn't get more pretty. Your hand shot to your pocket trying to find your phone but couldn't. Soap must have kept it when you two stayed behind.

"Shit-..." You cursed, and Ghost's smile widened again handing you his phone but snatching it back when you were about to take it.

"One picture. But only if you're in it too." He said lowly and you complied.

You two posed for Ghost's cracked camera with a sweet smile holding the rose together as the Charles Bridge came to view from behind you and the orange leaves picked height with the chilly, wet breeze of the season. Simon almost strangled you when after snapping the picture you added a small text that said: "Prague's cruise with my wifey~" with an orange leaf emoji and a white heart. Now he has a new lock screen.

______

Hours passed and after reuniting with the other three at the gates of the hotel, you all agreed it was best to enjoy dinner at the hotel because you had drained your wallets enough for the day. Ghost smirked under his surgical mask when he noted Gaz's bitterness at the sight of your hands tangled and how you were pressing your body against his lieutenant's every chance you had. This really had to be the best break Ghost has ever had.

The buffett from the hotel was pretty nice, although Johnny was so excited of showing you the multiple pictures and selfies he had taken with your phone he sat right in between you and Ghost not noticing the chastising look Price was giving him or the murderous glare from the other broody Brit. Gaz also joined the conversation further separating your attention from Ghost but he'd give you the space, after all, this wasn't a two-people trip.

Price and Ghost ended up chatting together about serious matters implying the CIA and Ghost's worry of being recognized by other gang members if they felt vengeful about the guy they captured during the mission. Ghost was a stern man that took his job very seriously and feared nothing for his life but if something happend to you, specially now that his bond with you had deepened and strengthened, he'd loose his god-damned mind, still, it was a weakness he embraced. To his relief, Price reassured him that everything would be alright and it was them who should fear if they got recognized, that he should leave the matter of the mission be, at least until tomorrow when they left Prague to go back to the base in England. Price's confidence was a huge comfort for Ghost, so he then decided to take his word and enjoy what was left of the trip to focus on you and himself instead.

After dinner, you felt a pang on the chest at the realization that you didn't want this trip to ever be over. Of course there was still work to do and you missed your crappy neighbours and the stripped stray cat you used to feed on your porch each morning and night during deployment.

You sat on the patterned emerald carpet next to the large window that overlooked the city at the beginning of the hall where all your rooms were. It was eleven in the night and you didn't want to sleep, so after some tossing and turning you decided that pondering over your current situation with Ghost near the window like an angsty teenager wearing your cozy pajamas was the best option to kill the time until you felt tired enough to sleep. The others had gone to their own separate rooms half an hour ago, all of them but Ghost, who had left the dining place the first, you thought he was on his room but when you knocked there was no reply. You guessed he needed some space, maybe you had overwhelmed him a bit.

Shit...

You stared at the night sky from the slightly damp window, looked back and when you saw you were alone you cracked an unholy sneeze that could have woken up the whole building.

"Fuckin' hell. God-fucking-bless you, the hell was that?" You heard someone growl coming from the stairs.

"Woops... Sorry n' thank you. It's fuckin' freezing in here. You know? I should tie you a bell of something, LT. You caught me sneezing now but next time who knows."

You heard Ghost sigh lowly as he finished the rest of the way upstairs joining you on the window. He was still wearing his street wear, you picked a slight smell of smoke on his jacket. He must have gone to enjoy his nightly cig break on the beautiful Japanese garden near the hotel's parking lot after dinner.

"What are y' doing here?" Ghost asked and you slowly turned to give him a side glance that spoke volumes of your turbulent mind. He understood.

He wordlessly sat down near you, heavy arms supporting his weight behind his back. Brown eyes looked across the window and lastly, to you. You noticed how relaxed he had gotten every time you were on his eyesight, it made the pang in your chest worsen.

"Shit... I really don't wanna go home." You sighed mindlessly with a bitter, forced smile. Ghost stares at you again, big, wide eyes picking every detail of your face illuminated by the moonlight coming from the window. "You know, I think that... for me, you are the best part of this trip, Si." He hanged his head low a little baffled by your words but quickly lift his chin to look back at you again. "Today was really fun. Excluding the part when we got lost on our way to the hotel and had to use Google's translator to ask our way here." You spoke lowly with a smile on your lips and a barely noticeable lump in your throat.

Ghost brushed it off with a dry chuckle and shook his head swiftly removing his facemask. "That was one of my three favorite parts."

"Three? Do tell, Lt."

Ghost took some time to reply, seemingly gathering the courage to speak again. "First was the cruise."

"When I called ya my wifey?" You jested.

"Don't push it." He growled but you two knew the real truth. "Second was when we got lost." When you asked why he quickly responded as if it was the most obvious thing "Why. 'cuz I got to spend more alone time with you."

Your heart beats faster in sync with his, you leaned forwards sitting a bit closer with your legs crossed and a loving smile lifting your cheeks, your hands went forwards and Ghost didn't waste a second softly squeezing them with his calloused palms.

"What's your third favorite moment?" It came out as a whisper, your features softening, both yours and his cheeks were lightly dusted in red.

"When Johnny fell downstairs after dinner."

You bursted out laughing breaking contact from his hands to cover your mouth and trying to lower the volume of your laughter. It surely had woken up some hosts because you could hear some bangs on distant walls and doors.

"Really? He fell!?"

"Landed on his butt, he looked like a kid. Now that I think 'bout it, I may have a fourth favorite moment..."

You were about to ask when did he see this if he was supposedly on the garden all this time, but instead you nodded urging him to continue. Ghost was silent then, he seemed to be staring deep into your soul like a toddler on the line of the grocery store, you giggled sweetly at this missing the light tremble on his hand when he reached to pick both your hands with his left one as the other went backwards to his pocket. He pulled out a postal of Carlos bridge, on the corner of it was taped a dry leaf, Simon lowly commented that he picked it from your hair when you two arrived to the hotel. Your eyes were tearing up as you took the postal, an ugly sob scaping your lips as you tried to dumbly smile up at him with a pathetic "For me!?" Ghost smirked at your reaction trying to hide his embarrassment. This explains why he left so soon after dinner, he wanted to rush to the souvenir shop before it closed to gift you a tiny piece of Prague, something to remember the beautiful moment your hearts touched.

"When we were at Johnny's room before the mission, when we were about to..." He coughed a little awkward "That's not how I wanted it to go. That wasn't how I wanted this to start." Simon explained motioning a hand between you two.

You smiled softly inspecting the postal and letting out a chuckle filled with affection when you saw that in the back was scribbled: "Prague made me your wifey, and you my white rose." With a tiny doodle of a skull with a rose on its eye socket.

"I love you." Simon blurted and your eyes snapped up to see him smiling at you so softly you felt like you'd faint right then.

"I love you too... Shit I... Wow." You laughed once more perplexed by how deep and emotional this was getting, you shook your shoulders trying to compose yourself "But I didn't get you nothing back..."

Simon stood up and offered you his hand, you took it without hesitation. "You gave me this." He murmured pressing a finger to your chest.

"My tits?"

"Idiot... Your heart. Come on, (y/n)..." He growled annoyed and you snorted.

"I also gave you a rose." You reminded him and that brought his smile back quickly. Ghost mauled at his cheek with a nervous smile looking down the carpet between you two, his hands were now on your waist and yours rested on his shoulders.

"Wanna... Pick up where we left off?" You offered and Simon squinted his eyes a bit confused until he realized what you meant. "This time without Johnny's shit n' the way." You mused.

"By all means..." He joked as well. And you two smiled softly at each other, relief clouding your senses as if a weight had lifted from your shoulders.

His lips were on yours quickly, it startled you at first as your arms went to his neck, one of your hands deliciously tugging at the hair from his nape. He growls in your mouth, tongue licking at the line of your lips demanding you to open it for him and you comply engaging your tongues into a beautiful slow dance.

You two kissed and moaned into each other's mouths as Ghost blindly guided you to his room, one of his hands pawing at every part of your body as the other froze to firmly grip at your right breast squeezing with enough force that you hissed, but then your own moan broke your complains when he bit your lower lip, fingers pinching at your nipple, his right hand abandoned your ass to quickly unlock the door. It was a tedious task when your hands were feeling everywhere they could. With little struggle you opened the door with a kick and rushed inside, both of you taking your clothes off with each step you took closer to the bed as giddy laughs followed scaping your mouths involuntarily. You looked crazed as if what you were doing was a first, as if you both hadn't gotten mistaken for a married couple a few hours back, as if what happened in the other hotel before the mission was nothing but a beautiful fantasy you had made up while getting ready and waiting for Soap to finish his business. How silly but how heartwarming it felt when the moment you turned back fully bare to look at Simon, your naked lieutenant hurried to lift you by your ass and tackled you to the bed bouncing together at the abrupt drop, loud chuckles erupted from your smiling faces. Simon looks at you from above, golden locks ruffled with a smile so wide it shapes his eyes crescent, soft pants followed the rhythm of your own heaving chest.

"You are so beautiful..." You don't know who said it, as this moment felt so surreal your bodies went autopilot.

He caged your body with his then, hard shoulders lowering so he could press a loving much slower kiss to your mouth, your eyes flutter closed, the atmosphere turning more sensual and heavy. The darkness of the room hid your bare, battle-marked bodies from the world, only a speck of moonlight that came from the window to your left badly covered by the curtains, it helped you see a little of Simon's blissed, flushed face as he kissed every inch of skin from your higher half until his face was right above your breasts, his kisses went slightly longer tasting your skin, his warm tongue lick at your chest as if you had poured sweet honey over your nipples. You arched your back bucking your chest to his mouth with a moan when you felt his teeth brush the delicate surface of your hard nipples. He went feral then, big hands massaging your sides, he nudged his head from side to side switching from tit to tit kissing and licking feverishly at every inch of skin he reached. You gasped loudly when his hands shot to grab both your breasts to sandwich his face compleatly, he loudly growled with a "Jesus fuck..." when your legs tangled with his and your wet cunt kissed the underside of his hard cock.

You two were so excited and lost on the foreplay that you missed one crucial detail, Gaz's room was right behind you. So when Simon slid inside you (easily with how wet you were), the gasp that left your lips and the loud grunt that scaped his startled Kyle while the Sargeant was reading his ebook while listening to music. His new music now consisted on a rhythmic thudding on the wall, the headboard of his lieutenant's bed quickly picking pace mashing against the paper wall that separated the two rooms, your sweet moans turning desperate and high pitched when he heard a loud curse coming from the other male.

Simon lifted his chest from yours leaning his whole torso backwards with the support of his left arm, his right hand groped and massaged your thigh while his hips feverishly snap up to hit at your sweet spot. You two were already panting as if you had been at it for hours and not minutes the intensity of the shared feelings (and Kyle's ear pressed against the wall as his hand went under his pants). Your chest heaves, you struggle to contain your sweet moans as Ghost pistons his hips against yours, loud claps and curses fill the room, Simon's enormous sex pulsates inside of you feeling the way your walls squeeze him painfully hard.

"Fuck you feel amazin'... Keep squeezing me, baby... That's it-"

And you wanted to do it, you really did, but you knew that if you did, this would end up quickly. You two were already sweaty, lust-filled eyes fixed on one another until you slightly moved your thigh out of his field of view and quickly his eyes shot to your bouncing breasts and Simon no longer cared of you weren't squeezing his cock, his pace picked up and deepen, the head of his cock punching a whole on your stomach. You squirmed, loving moans turning urgent seeking more and more of the delicious pain his giant cock was giving you. It was a struggle to move your waist closer to his while he was shaking the whole bed with the force of his thrusts, Ghost launched forwards, both hands gripping at the headboard with delicious growls and moans of his own, his pace slowed when he felt your legs wrapping around his waist and your nails dig on his back. He saw heaven in your eyes while you bit on your lower lip, your hips moving upwards milking him for your life, the sweet gasps and groans that he graced you with as he allowed you to do the job caused your cunt to squeeze his cock so hard you managed to push it out.

"S-shit..."

"Fuuuuckin'-..." He groaned out halting you with his hands roughly gripping at your hips and bullying his cock inside you. "-Hell.....!"

You yelled when he picked up a violent pace, the smacks against the wall stopped abruptly making Kyle groan, Ghost had smacked a hand on the surface and pushed the whole bed a few inches backwards because he swore that the way the forniture was hitting the wall with your lovemaking was making a hole.

Lucky for Gaz, he could still hear pretty well the bed bending and fucking breaking as well as your sweet voice singing a song only dedicated to Ghost who was smashing your cunt so hard, squelching and slapping noises could be heard with clarity. A few moments later, with Simon pining you into a breeding position pushing his hips downwards rubbing his balls on the underside of your sex and his hot mouth firmly pressed on your left breast muffling the loud moans he tried and failed to contain, you panted out you were about to cum, so Simon, with few slow but hard and calculated thrusts, managed to find your end before he quickly lifted himself from you and rushed to your upper half stroking his red cock with angry fast strokes. Beads of cum covered your chest and hit your tongue when you opened up your mouth expectantly. "Jesus... Shit... You vixen..."

You giggle breathlessly swallowing down his cum and try and help guide him back into the bed when the poor lieutenant winced and almost fell backwards when he tried to take a step back.

"We'll be leaving tomorrow... Might as well recover quickly, Lt. The night is long." You whisper on his ear when Ghost tucks you on his chest. "I need your cock inside me again as soon as you can get it up again." That earned you a shiver from the behemoth of a man who, with a quick peck to your temple moved to hover up your body.

"You are one insatiable bitch with a whimsy kitty..."

"Tell me you don't love it." You say licking his ear.

"I love it, and I love you." He said with finality, his thumbs brushing your cheeks lightly and you sighed softly.

________

The night went on quicker than you'd have liked. By the morning, poor Ghost had to put cream on his whole genitalia with how far you two had gone. Still, he had the best few hours of sleep he has ever had, with your bare body spooned by him, head on his arm and his other hand cupping your tits. You didn't know, but he had taken a selfie with you gently snoring a few seconds before you had awoken and instantly rolled to face him and cuddle properly with a groggy "mornin'..."

Ghost loved this. He imagined himself awakening every night on with you on his arms and he felt a kind of peace and tranquility he never thought he'd be able to feel. Sadly good things don't last, and it was Johnny who had awoken you two by the door to have breakfast and leave to the airport.

All of them were a little surprised but played it nice when they saw you freshly showered and with Ghost's oversized clothes rushing to get dressed in your own room. Price had this look of amusement that never seemed to leave him, Johnny was confused as hell and Gaz had this big bags under his eyes that said enough about his restlessness the night prior.

Some hours later, your group was flying to England where Nikolai claimed he'd wait in the airport to take you all to the base.

Now, If you remember the long conversation about who out the lot of you was the most lazy, it was Gaz.

So when the plane was reaching London and the passengers started clapping and congratulating the pilot, you all turned to Garrick who lazily rolled his head your way with this bored look, lift his phone and pressed a finger on the screen without even looking, instantly, a clapping sound came from it and your team started laughing, classic Gaz. Though Ghost's low chuckles died slowly when he got to see a tiny glimpse of the screen, the clapping came from a video that showed total darkness until he managed to make out the shape of Gaz's hotel room wall. That same wall that connected to his room. So the clapping came from behind the wall, when Ghost was balls deep inside you.

The Sargeant noted the sudden lack of laughter from his lieutenant so his eyes pointed his way, face still bored and slightly exhausted from the flight, the kill shot was when Gaz made this casual shrug that made Ghost remind himself of the oath he made to always be loyal to his team so he wouldn't strangle Garrick right then and there.

"Guess I was also too lazily not to clap my own hands on the video, y'two made me the favor." He winked and Ghost launched his way. Fuck his oath.

[creativeashproductions]

Murder Mysteries and Afterlife Businesses Part 2 // Wally Clark

IN WHICH: In which the aftermath of Dawn’s crossing over, other things come to light, and Reader becomes more involved despite her resistance. But what happens when more and more information comes out and more secrets become unraveled.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, mention of murder, ghosts and some fluff

Words: 4k

A/N: Welcome to part 2 of Murder Mysteries. Thank you for the support and interest you’ve had since I posted the first part! The gif will make sense.

Part One

Masterlist

It seemed lately it was all the rage to barge into your studio since Maddie had joined the death crew. Charley had burst through the door with a gust of nervous energy and a lack of manners.

“Dawn’s crossed over.” He huffed, clenching the doorframe with his fingers.

Your brows furrowed, “When?”

“Did the lights flicker? Did you get goosebumps?”

Your teeth came down to gnaw on the skin of your lip, thinking back to the odd moment you’d been standing outside. All new blankets or quilts you liked to hang out on a line to catch the scent of the morning breeze. You’d noticed all the buildings on campus had lost power for a split second.

“I was outside. The light in the school did.” You replied, twisting to focus back on organizing the new fabric and thread you’d gotten.

“That was Dawn.”

Your head snapped up to meet his freaked-out eyes.

Now you knew for a fact that when Janet left, it was absolutely nothing like that. From what you’d gathered, she’d been there one moment and gone the next.

“But that didn’t happen when Janet left. Or when Brady crossed over.” You murmured, forgoing your tasks to focus solely on the unnerved ghost, “Are you sure?”

“He’s sure.” Wally breathed from the entrance. His hands shoved in his variety jacket pockets, his hand one raising in a friendly wave, “Hey.”

Your eyebrow lifted, “Ain’t I miss popularity lately. Okay, I’ll bite. In the decades since either of you joined the afterlife, have you ever questioned how crossing over works?”

Wally shrugged, “I thought it was a very personal and sensitive event. Besides, Janet and Brady are the only ones we know that crossed over.”

The sound of your brother’s name falling from Wally’s lips makes your own twist sourly. The loss of Brady aching all the more.

“The only one who’d know would be Mr. Martin. And we have no reason to not trust him. Right?” Charley said, breaking the silence brought on by Wally’s words. Then, Charley’s dark irises peered as you shifted to toy with a keychain on display, “Right…Renai?”

Okay, so maybe, just maybe, Maddie’s ability to speak with Simon wasn’t the only earth-shattering piece of information. There were reasons for not wanting to join the support group. You couldn’t stomach looking at Mr. Martin. A level of disgust was always there, tying in with your morals.

Mr. Martin held a lot of control as the only adult ghost on the property and, with his position, held more respect. A lot more than a slimy teacher deserved. In order to not attend the sessions, you had a deal of sorts with him. Besides, the weird lightning-fast glances with Janet were a little odd when you saw them together.

“No. Not a reason.” You uneasily replied, shifting to scratch an itch on the bridge of your nose, “I’m not sure how Dawn’s crossed over like that, but maybe it’s just something that changes with each person. Your best bet would be asking Mr. Martin because Wally is right. Crossing over is a deeply intimate moment, and it’s really taboo. But, honestly, even the death event is as well.”

You watched as Charley left the building before shifting to look at Wally, “Hey, Wally?”

“Yeah?” The athlete whipped around to stare at you, “Something wrong?”

“Just…be careful.” You whispered, reaching to squeeze his arm, “Something isn’t right.”

All Wally could do was scan your features; he was sure he saw a flicker of guilt wave over, but he shoved that thought away. He nodded and turned on his heel to follow the ’90s ghost back to the school and the group they’d left. They had a group session to attend and answers to be demanded.

“Oh, Brady. You’d know what to do.” You mumbled, shifting to grab the phone off the desk to check in on other matters.

Split River High School, the late 2000s

Your hand clenched the backpack tossed carelessly over your shoulder, listening to Linkin Park’s album on your iPod. You and Brady had spent the better half of the night ripping albums off of Limewire and creating playlists with each other. The lack of sleep was worth hearing the lyrics flowing into the earbuds from the iPod.

Brady’s shoulder bumped yours when he waved to your father from the parked car on the corner. Brady had always gotten along better with your father than you did. You had an easier time with your mom instead. 

“You should take him up on his offer,” Brady spoke when he noticed the song winding down. His eyes flash to yours on your trek over the football field.

“Spend hours in uncomfortable silence while our dad tries and ultimately fails to connect with me?” You scoffed, “Isn’t that a typical Tuesday for us? Besides, I’m heading up to Chicago for that new thrift store?”

“It’s not like you make it easy, Renai.” Brady snorted, tugging the one earbud to put in his ear, “Get him to drive you. There’s that record store you two to go to…and because I’m using the car.”

Your jaw dropped, shifting to turn to face the bane of your existence, “Brady! It’s my weekend! I missed the last two because you forgot to take the car for an oil change!”

“Just take Dad, please. We don’t have much longer until we’re far from Split River. Please make an attempt at fixing your relationship. That way, you can say you tried.”

You rolled your eyes, but you silently promised you’d at least try to have some form of bonding with the guy that tried his best. But really, why bother when all you needed was Brady, and you had your entire life to get on better terms with Dad.

Famous last words.

“What do you remember the day that Brady crossed over?” Wally questioned from his position near the blankets hung up.

His hands removed each clothespin to carefully fold the new quilt you’d finished only a few days ago. He’d shown up somewhat out of nowhere to help you, and you didn’t put up much of a fight. While angry and hurt, you had missed him in the years of distance.

Your hands froze, “Why are you asking?”

“I’m curious.”

You poked your head around the burgundy fabric you had little clue about what you’d use it for. A new item one the ghosts had snagged from the fabric store in town.

“Well…uh.”

Split River High School, Highlands House Studio

You and Brady never worked Sundays. Ever. In life as kids, it had been days spent as part of your family’s religion before it evolved into how you spent it as teens. In the afterlife, you considered it to be the one day a week you would decompress from all the work and relax. You and Brady were close in life and death, but Sundays you spent away from each other.

You never knew what he did; he preferred not knowing what you did with Wally on those days.

This Sunday, you had woken up with Wally in your small bedroom in the studio and treated yourselves to breakfast in the school cafeteria. You took a walk and smiled when Wally gently dropped his varsity jacket over your bare shoulders. His hand slipped into yours.

“Can we postpone our date? Brady needs my help with something.” Wally questioned, leaning back against the crumbling brick of the school’s side. He felt your head nod in response from its position against his chest.

“Yeah. I can finish up on a project.” You murmured, curling further into his warmth.

Your eyes focused back on gently taking the burgundy fabric from the line and breathing in the scent of the crisp morning air. It was the closest you could get to your mom’s laundry soap. 

“It was Sunday. You surprised me with waffles you made in the cafeteria, you’d spent so many nights figuring out how to use the school kitchen. You were so proud of the smiley face you did on my waffle with the whipped cream.”

“-my momma’s recipe. The waffles and the whipped cream, by the way.” Wally interjected with a grin. It faltered because, while a good memory, it was the last he had shared with you.

“And then I remember learning about Brady.” Your words caused the mood to drop, and the brunette to peer at you as well.

You’d think it was Wally who would have found you and told you that your twin, your soulmate, the other half of the ‘two for one’ joke your parents had used your entire lives crossed over. But it hadn’t been. Instead, it had been Mr. Martin who had shown up on your doorstep.

“I never wanted to keep it from you,” Wally whispered, clenching his fingers on the quilt he ever so carefully placed in the basket. 

The tears marred Wally’s slouched form standing on the field with more distance than ever between your two bodies. Not a second to waste, leaving Mr. Martin to find the one person who had seen Brady last. With the beautiful weather, Wally had taken up residence on the empty football field with art supplies from the art room with one goal in mind.

You and Wally didn’t attend the Homecoming dance in the years together. Not for lack of trying, but the ghosts from the Support Group usually went together. You and Brady would volunteer your talents to decorate with them before bowing out. It wasn’t really your scene. But, out of all his friends, Rhonda had convinced Wally to give it a chance in a promposal-esque event.

You’d stumbled onto him after rather ruthlessly dragging the information out of Janet.

“How could you?” You tearfully asked the jock, limply holding a forgotten brush in his hand. The blue dripping off the bristles matched the streak on his pale cheekbone.

The words were vicious. Dripping with hatred and so much pain, Wally felt horrible. He felt like he was watching his body hit the field back in 1984 all over again, his life falling to pieces in seconds. He struggled to find words to adequately respond to your agony.

“He’s all I had.” You sobbed, curling in on yourself, “You should have told me. Why would you do this to me?”

Wally was out of his limit here with zero relationship experience in his life with the time and energy dedicated to football. Honestly, he’d never had the opportunity, or interest, to woo over a girl or her parents. Then he stumbled into you in the hallway holding that blanket he was done for. And as a ghost, he didn’t have anyone but your brother to win over. And what began as trying to impress Brady turned into a friendship Wally was grateful to have.

“He asked me for time.” Wally quietly spoke, finally releasing the grip on the paintbrush to mar the football like his death had done decades ago.

“I’m his twin, Wally! He’s supposed to trust me! Confide in me.” You pushed his chest when he attempted to step closer.

“I-“

“You took him away. You went behind my back without even considering how I’d feel and did everything in your power to help him cross over.”

Wally’s sadness dissipated enough for anger to drip, “Because of this! He asked my help because you’ve always brushed his concerns off! So sue me, I decided to help my best friend. Just because you’re content to be stuck here doesn’t mean he should have had to be!”

Like a bullet hitting your midsection, pain erupted in your very soul. Wally’s expression dropped, digesting his own words and your reaction.

“Wally, I didn’t get to say goodbye. So why couldn’t you let me say goodbye.”

Wally’s brows came together. How could he let you say goodbye when he hadn’t seen Brady since Wally stumbled out of your bedroom this morning. He couldn’t find him although they had had plans together.

“But I-“

“I don’t care. You’re the reason he’s gone, and to be honest, Wally, I wish he was here instead of you. We’re done.”

The finality of your tone and your back was the last thing he saw that tore him apart. He dropped to his knees with the pleading slipping one by one out his mouth for you to stay.

“I know that now Wally. It was easier to be mad at you than at Brady for wanting to cross over and leave me.” You whispered, dropping your hands from the quilt on the line to stare at the material that matched Brady’s eyes to a’ t’.

It was going to take a while to properly heal the damage the breakup had done, but baby steps had begun. It was Maddie who put it into play the night of the Homecoming Dance. 

Before Maddie left the gym, Charley and Rhonda had each broken down and explained the actual history between Wally and his ex. And Maddie feels doubly guilty for upsetting the tall ghost after agreeing to join him as a friend at the dance. For a hot minute, Maddie had thought Wally was upset because he liked her, but it was because this was the one night he truly let the past go. Wally used to try to convince Brady to attend the dance for a few hours.

“Wally, I’m sorry,” Maddie spoke from her position on the periphery of the concrete, meeting the grass. Her blue eyes sadly looking at the boy listlessly sang along to Joe Jackson’s Steppin’ Out.

Wally kept staring up at the dark sky, going quiet as he listened to her.

“There was a lot happening, and I didn’t want to ruin the night for you. But I should have been honest and told you what was happening.” Maddie nervously brushed her hands on her dress. Her small steps brought her closer to the desolate teenager.

“Maddie, it’s… it’s fine. You don’t have to apologize to me. I’m used to Homecoming sucking for me.” Wally replied, pushing his hands into his pockets. Maddie was already shaking her head.

“That doesn’t mean it’s okay. I kept brushing you off. You and everyone else have been so kind to me, and I’ve treated you poorly tonight.”

Wally nodded his head, “I haven’t been fair either. Can I be honest?”

Maddie’s lips parted into a slight sympathetic grin, “That this entire time you’ve pictured someone else sitting at the table with you? If you weren’t so sickeningly in love with Renai, I would have kissed you.”

The two teens stared at each other, noting how while they’d come as friends, they weren’t even remotely with the right people. Maddie’s blonde eyebrow raised.

“Wally Clark, don’t you have an artist to win back?” 

Wally turned on his heel racing off towards the football field set in between the school and the former art studio. Maddie beamed, watching Wally’s getting smaller and smaller until he disappeared around the corner. 

In the art studio, you’d opened the windows and climbed onto the roof of the building to settle in to look at the constellations. Then, finally, you could pick out the ones your mother had spent summers introducing you to. A dedicated astronomer, your mom had always liked the stars and mysteries of outer space.

You could faintly hear the music playing in the gym where the Homecoming Dance was in full force. You wondered when the punch got spiked and what teacher looked the other way. If Rhonda wore the dress, you’d surprised her a few years ago. She routinely rotated it into the apparel every couple of years.

“Seen a comet?” 

Your eyebrows raised, finding Wally standing in a tuxedo, holding a maroon blanket he gently draped over your form. He’d ditched the dress shoes to climb from the window to the roof and left the jacket with the shoes as well. 

“No, just an idiot.” You smirked. His foot nudged your ribs, causing your to flinch off the mattress. Brady and you dragged it up one year for stargazing.

“Do you think we’ll still be around to see Halley’s comet?” Wally asked, shifting to lay down by your side.

“Halley will perihelion in 2061. After that, we have another thirty-eight years before it returns, so who knows if we’ll be here.”

Wally was quiet as he stared at the side of your face, “I hope that somehow and somewhere, you and Brady can see it together.”

“And you.”

Wally tried to keep from visibly reacting, but he couldn’t. Wally wore his emotions on his sleeve for everyone to see.

“And me?”

His only response to his disbelief was the feeling of your pinky linking around his leaving him breathless.

The dark-haired teen had managed to sneakily grasp your hand in his while you’d been stuck in the scene from a week ago. A warmth only he could ignite slowly fanned that made its presence known in the apples of your cheeks.

“He didn’t want to leave you. The last thing he wanted was to leave you. All he ever wanted was for you to be happy.” Wally quickly informed you and gently pushed you away from the clothesline to step in front of you, “He loved you with every part of him. I really truly believe wherever we cross over to, he’s waiting for us.”

“-probably to kick my ass for dumping you.” You winced thinking of the hell Brady would have raised.

“Oh, absolutely.” Wally full-heartedly agreed with that statement. But, to be honest, Brady was the only person in the world who could get you from being so stubborn.

Wally had known since meeting your twin brother that he’d never be your number one. That was and always would be Brady’s place, and it was vice versa. Wally understood and, quite frankly, loved the bond you both had.

“What do you say to a movie marathon?”

“I’d say hell yeah. I’ll raid the library for one.”

The watch on your wrist ticked down the time to both sundown and the meeting time for your date with Wally. The chainlink fence was cold on your skin, and the lack of noise unsettled you. The popcorn machine had been in a long overdue dusting when the phone had vibrated on the desk. You’d hadn’t time to grab one of the items you kept on hand for Joel.

You couldn’t look at the shadow box containing a specimen for the Civil War soldier without wanting to cry. The things he collected, other than stamps, made your skin crawl.

The red-haired soldier slinked from behind the shadows of the trees to come closer to the fence. His time was perfect when the sun set behind the horizon; he didn’t like being visible in general. You attributed his unease primarily to an adult life spent under the cloak of darkness when he was a soldier. Your Converse slapped against the dry dirt when his lanky form appeared from the back of the tree.

“You said Maddie Nears is dead.” Joel skittishly spoke, slouching down into his body. His anxious eyes refused to stay on you.

 “Well, to the living, they’ve classified it as a disappearance, but she’s dead. Her spirit is tethered to the school.” You responded, turning to look over your shoulder where he was staring at.

For a second, you thought you saw the silhouette of someone on the dark top floor of the school but quickly disregarded that.

“Joel?” You questioned him, “Are you okay?”

Joel’s eyes snapped to firmly meet yours. That cold feeling he always brought slithering around your body. You could see the deep fear in his gaze, so unlike how he usually looked.

“I-I have to go. There are things at play. Vivify.” Joel skittishly stumbled back from the fence, taking the cold ambience with him.

Your mouth dropped open, “Wait! Joel, what does that mean!”

The soldier disappeared back into the thick of the forest, leaving the shadow box in your hands. He hadn’t even looked or questioned the payment for information. He was so stuck on looking at the school.

Your ear tuned in to the whispers coming from in the woods. 

“-can’t be trusted.”

“-spirit and body.”

“Do you think this is the end? Is this hell on earth-”

“We’ve waited centuries for- “

“-locked-”

“no, stuck”

The unease of lingering around flared, and you felt the foreboding of something going wrong. The hands on your watch revealed that you’d been on the edge of the woods far longer than you had thought. Your Converse squelched under the dewy grass in your race back to the studio where you hoped Wally was waiting.

No dice. Every room was silent, and the roof was empty.

“Wally?” You shouted, flinging open the back door to a dark abyss.

You knew something was wrong. Deep in your gut, you felt the balance of the two worlds change. And you had a feeling it tied to Maddie Nears and to a particular be-speckled ghost too many people put their trust into.

Fuck the deal. And fuck Mr. Martin too.

“You know the little breadcrumbs you’ve left over the years…well, they’re getting really irksome. I’ve been kind. Let you own a corner of what I’ve spent decades building.”

Your spine stiffened hearing the words of someone you’d have called the devil. You ever so slowly turned to see Mr. Martin standing with his hands in his pockets.

“The beauty of your Civil War soldier is Joel’s…easy to get help from. A little promise to crossover, and he folds easier than the stamps you’d paid him.” Mr. Martin removed his glasses to clean before returning the vintage pair on the bridge of his nose, “Besides, can you ever really trust a Confederate soldier?”

Your feet stumbled back, “What are you doing here, Martin.”

His lips parted in a grin, “It’s what you can do for me and what I will give you in return.”

Your eyes coldly stared him down. Was this the time to play the card you’d hidden for years?

“You know, I always found it morbidly interesting how Split River High School has had two fatal fires. What gets me, however, is how your fire was brushed under the rug and hidden. The scene changed into a bunker and faded from everyone’s memory.”

Mr. Martin tilted his head and attempted to keep a neutral expression, but you saw the minuscule flicker of worry.

You picked ups a ceramic figurine of a phoenix off the corner of your desk, playing the part of nonchalance. You kept a fair distance from the former teacher.

“But when the fire that killed Brady and me happened…the school rebuilt the art building, tried to revive the program and provided a memorial for us. So tell me, Everett…did you mean to kill Janet too?”

You saw Mr. Martin stumble back as you revealed your hand. His eyes blinked furiously.

“Yes, Everett, I know you two died in the same fire, and you’ve tried to play it off as an accident, but we both know the truth. Go ahead. Ask me how I know and why I haven’t told anyone?”

He tilted his head, “Why?”

“I’ve always left weird about Brady’s crossing over. And you sure ain’t slick with your glances with Janet and how you postponed the first meeting after Janet crossed over. So tell me, what really happened to Brady? Because the way Dawn crossed over confirmed that something happened to Brady, and it wasn’t crossing over.”

Mr. Martin had never fled as fast as he did in that moment.

Fallout Shelter

“I wouldn’t bother.”

The voice came out of nowhere, scaring the three ghosts attempting to break through the door. Wally flinched, looking up to the shelving to see a fourth ghost in the room with them.

“Mr. Martin’s good at locking them. He’s made a game out of it for years now.”

Wally’s lips parted, “Brady?”

Brady turned his head to peer at his best friend and your boyfriend.

“Hey, Wally. Long time no see.”

Tag List: Send an ask/notes if you want to be tagged! 

That way, it’s all in one place for me to go through

@websterss @nekee-lilac02 @wanderingwallysposts @queen190 @adoremilo @witheringawayagain @rinisfruity14 @falling4thecanyonmoon @spookyinky @criesinlies @mega-met44 @oscarisdaddy69 @x-eggroll-x @myosotisbella @elvisbluesuedeshoes @xyzstar @frogmanfletch @k-k0129 @jayyeahthatsme​ @merlin-dahlia​

[wormconsumer]

Based off a post I saw with the idea that Robert Smirke had fourteen friends, each falling too/representing a different entity, with Smirke himself being the Extinction.

To get the obvious ones out of the way: Jonah Magnus as the Eye, Mordechai Lukas as the Lonely, Maxwell Rayner as the Dark, and George Gilbert Scott as the Buried; these ones are all canon. Not directly canon but a pretty reasonable assumption is Simon Fairchild as the Vast; we know Simon had Maxwell Rayner help him with his Awful Deep ritual in 1853, which was only a few years before Smirke died, and Smirke hung out with Rayner a ton, so it makes sense for Simon to be part of the group (though by a different name; he only started going by “Simon Fairchild” in the 1930s). Another fairly reasonable assumption, in my opinion, is John Franklin for the Hunt. Franklin is canonically a Hunt avatar in The Magnus Archives, his real-life timeline overlaps with Smirke and the rest, and Rayner was canonically interested in his expedition, which was probably because he wanted to use Franklin’s knowledge of arctic exploration for his ritual, but could also imply they knew each other, and therefore, Smirke’s gang.

For the Corruption, my first thought was John Amherst, but he only became an avatar during the Second Boer War, which was about half a century after Smirke’s time. Instead, John Snow is a better fit. He was an English physician who lived during the same time as Smirke, and he had something going on; his descendant Neil Thompson has a syringe that belonged to Snow that had Corruption properties, so Snow fits. For the Slaughter, we could go with Charles Fleming. We know he was in China from at least the beginning of the First Opium War in 1839, and Smirke and Jonah and the rest were up and active on their supernatural studies since at least the 1810s, so it’s theoretical Fleming could have hung out with them, even though he didn’t become touched by the Slaughter until he went to China. Maybe he came back later, though he was in China at least until 1862. Alternatively, William Hall, the actual captain of the Nemesis, could be an option, his lifetime overlaps pretty well with Smirke’s, though there is no evidence he interacted with the Slaughter besides his interactions with Fleming and the Nemesis. Still, he was probably a bit more high-society that Fleming, so I kind of prefer him. Finally, for the more reasonable ones, we have Joey Grimaldi for the Stranger. Grimaldi’s timeline overlaps with Smirke’s, and we know he was affected by the Stranger even before he was turned into Nikola Orsinov. The reason I’m choosing Grimaldi instead of Gregor Orsinov or Nikolai Denikin is that we know for sure he was in England while Smirke was, unlike the other two.

Now for the more out-there guesses. For the Flesh, there are a few options. One is Eustace Wick, the Lutheran priest-turned-cannibal, who did live at the same time as Smirke, but he became an avatar in 1832, died in 1845, and has no evidence that he’d even been to England, considering he’s American. The other options would be Benjamin Carlisle, Benjamin’s unnamed wife, or possibly some other relative or descendant of theirs. I find this one the more likely choice, because Jonathan Sims specifically wonders how Benjamin Carlisle’s wife was able to give her statement to the Magnus Institute, considering she starved to death in a cave on the Oregon Trail in 1845, as well as the fact that an apparent descendant of her, Toby Carlisle, is living in England by the 21st Century and has enough of a connection with the Flesh to be pretty severely affected by the failure of the Last Feast ritual. The unnamed Mrs. Carlisle being the Flesh representative does mean she presumably gave in and cannibalized her husband, and the timeline only gives her about a decade to have hung out with the rest before Smirke’s death, but I think that fits, considering what Smirke said about just coming up with theories about the Flesh in his statement.

The Spiral has similarly not a lot to go on. I would just say the Distortion, seeing as it’s an immortal manifestation of the Spiral itself. We know that Ivo Lenshik’s father was tormented by the Distortion in a human form, and apparently Lenshik’s great-uncle did too, implying that the Distortion did assume a humanoid form sometimes, before it was forced to by the failure of the Great Twisting ritual. Plus, Jonah Magnus clearly knows who the Distortion is, which yes, he could have learned at literally any point from the past two hundred years, but seeing as we’ve got nothing else, I’ll choose to believe. For the Web, the only older avatars of the Web we’re aware of would be the historical owners of the house at Hill Top Road. We don’t know who owned it during Smirke’s time; the closest we have are the unnamed blackmailer who died during the English Civil War in the mid-1600s, and Walter Fielding, who died in 1923. Walter’s son and grandson both owned the house for about thirty years before dying, so with the same amount of time applied, Walter couldn’t be our Web avatar. Honestly, the answer might just have to be “whichever Web avatar was owning the house at Hill Top Road during the first half of the 19th Century.”

For the Desolation, we have even less. Diego Molina founded the Cult of the Lightless Flame at some point prior to World War II, but we have no idea when, and it couldn’t have been that long, considering what Eugene Vanderstock says about the immortality of Desolation avatars having some kind of limit. The same is true of the End. The only known End avatar who was alive during Smirke’s time was Nathaniel Thorp, who was a Death at the time, and didn’t become human again until 1970. It’s unlikely that Deaths got breaks to socialize.

So, in summary, we know for sure about:

* Jonah Magnus — The Eye

* Mordechai Lukas — The Lonely

* Maxwell Rayner — The Dark

* George Gilbert Scott — The Buried

We can make some reasonable assumptions about:

* Simon Fairchild — The Vast

* John Franklin — The Hunt

We can make educated guesses about:

* John Snow — The Corruption

* William Hall — The Slaughter

* Joey Grimaldi — The Stranger

We can make complete guesses about:

* Mrs. Carlisle — The Flesh

* The Distortion — The Spiral

* Owner of the house at Hill Top Road — The Web

And we have nothing for:

* The Desolation

* The End

If anyone has ideas or things I missed, let me know.

[sergeantcowboy]

Hey I'm gonna pretend like the western worlds decent toward facism isn't a thing and that the already fundamendally flawed democratic system of the US isn't actively collapsing in on itself as we speak, I'm gonna share some oc facts.

(In all seriousness: to all my american followers or whoever happens to see this please stay safe. If you're part of any of the groups trageted by the right wing please keep yourself alive, they want you gone and just being alive is already resistance. I believe in you.)

Wow look at that! OC facts! (Mainly Crow's backstory and family stuff)

TW: parental death

Crow was born in New Jersey to a teen mom who had him at 16. He spent the majority of his childhood being raised by his grandparents.

His mom still lived with them, aside from some of the time in his early childhood where she attended community college for a bit.

She's a very nice woman and did her best but she was mostly clueless about parenting. Even as a small child Crow recognized her insecurity in that area but he still loved her.

His full name is Simon Francis Trevino. At this point he's so used to Crow he actually reacts a millisecond later when someone calls him by his actual name.

He hasn't met his father but at this point he isn't even really interested in the guy. His mom didn't talk about him much either.

Crow got bullied as a kid. He did have some friends in the neighborhood, but not anyone at school. He went to a catholic school that was in a different area, meanwhile his neighborhood friends went to the local public school.

His family is originally from the domican republic, both of his grandparents were born there. His grandfather's family immigrated to the US when he was still a child. His grandmother immigrated to the US as a young adult.

He speaks spanish very poorly, much to his grandparents disappointment.

His grandpa is kinda too into toxic masculinity, he has tried to raise Crow to be "manlier" from day one.

He's also not a fan of the fact that Crow likes other guys but he's not outright disowning him over it. He's just kinda awkward about it.

Same with his grandma, she's leaning on being more accepting though.

Both still prefer to call him "creative" or "different" if it comes up around extended family or neighbors.

Around the time Crow was 13 he got into a fight with a bully over a stolen diary. The fight got more violent than anticipated and the bully ended up hitting Crow's head on the pavement, resulting in his eyebrow scar.

As per tradition in school, they both got expelled for a week for fighting, despite the fact that the bully had been the one stealing Crow's property. The bully was also clearly the one with the upperhand in the situation. Crow did start the fight... cough

Crow had already been lashing out a bit at some of his classmates for the bullying, and after that incident he was officially branded as a "problem child" by the school.

His grandparents made the decision to send him to bullworth academy, partially to set him straight (not like that) and partially to "toughen up" a bit.

Around the same time they, along with Crow's mom, had been planning that she could take full custody of him and move away to learn more independence and also have a more "conventional family life". So instead of just sending Crow to live in the dorms, he and his mom moved to bullworth where they rented an apartment and his mom went on to work from part-time job to job.

She even worked as a maid for the Harrington household for a bit, before being diagnosed with breast cancer and getting fired so that the Harringtons could avoid having to pay any sick leave.

Her cancer was diagnosed late, so it was already at stage IV, and it was one of the more aggressive forms of breast cancer (triple-negative).

Despite getting help from his grandparents, they could barely afford the treatments. Crow started doing odd jobs around town and eventually started selling stuff at school for some more cash. It proved to be more profitable than he initially thought, he was around 14 years old at the time.

Crow and his mom had already made plans to move back to New Jersey to save more money and to be more around family, but she passed away before that could happen.

Crow went back to New Jersey for a bit, attending her funeral and taking a break from school, but after a month he and his grandparents made the decision to send him back to Bullworth where he'd live in the dorms now.

Crow continued his side business at school mainly because he realized he liked the adrenaline rush of doing something that wasn't allowed, and that was before he was even selling cigarettes and alcohol.

At the age of 15 he started getting into that part of his business as well. He also started spending time in his dorm room learning how to forge signatures just to make counterfeit hall passes and such.

He also started smoking because he got too curious about cigarettes. And, well... he already had some packs to sell, might as well try one.

He doesn't stay at bullworth during christmas, preferring to go to his grandparents house.

Even though he spends a most of his time there doing chores and helping around the house.

And even though he doesn't like dressing up to go church every christmas morning.

He still wants to see his family.

And visit his mother's grave.

[dreamwreaver]

When Vox and Charlie finally interact on screen, I hope to God we won't have another "deemed as a father figure by annoying fans" situation on our hands because I will lose it. They did it with Alastor and Charlie, they did it with Vox and Velvette, they did it with Carmilla and Zestial and I'm sick of it. I'm tired of the majority of the fandom being prone to infantilize the women that have a platonic relationship with an older man. Especially when said older man has beef or relations with another older man. I swear, most of the fandom seems to be allergic to the mere possibility of their favorite male character being with a female character that it makes me suspect they're slightly misogynistic sometimes given the way they would callously treat the female characters at times.

Besides, I personally don't think Vox and Charlie would have a father-daughter relationship because, well, Vox is the villain and really doesn't give off paternal vibes (neither does Alastor but that didn't really stop the RA shippers). Unfortunately, half of the Hellaverse fandom consists of immature people with no media literacy skills whatsoever so I'm not gonna be surprised if they begin to label the pathetic man-child of a television as Dad#3 to an adult woman.

All joking aside nonny, welcome back.

Yeah, this has been a very annoying trend across media, not unique to the hellaverse but incredibly rampant all the same. First I want to say that the Vees not being an actual polyamorous Vee is a missed opportunity.

Second, I really cannot see Vox being a father figure as anything more than a bit. Like he can't get to Charlie through being a romantic interest (canonically because of vaggie and possibly al?) so he'd try to pose himself as a shrewd businessman that makes exceptions for family or something. But much like Al's comments to Lucifer in Hell's greatest dad it would all be an act. I do "ship" Vox/Luci solely because the crackship name of AppleTv is too hilarious not too so I am for it. But I was the same of a certain other ship before a very loud segment of it ruined it by treating it like endgame canon instead of the absolute crackship it is.

As for one of your other remarks, it's a problem of fandom in general these days. You saw it when certain lumity shippers got pissy that people shipped Lunter, we saw the absolute war that was the reboot of a certain mech property that I will not name to save my sanity. Like, it's not the old days where canon queer rep was slim to none and easier to get away with portraying deeply emotionally impactful relationships with men and giving a token female love interest to say they were "straight" but then again homoeroticism in media is both a super long lived trope dating back to the gayest locales in history and a rant for another day. Canon queer ships are everywhere, not overwhelming or even equal to the ostensibly "straight" canon couples in all of literature but definitely not something you'd get burned at the stake for if you said it.

That being said, in that vacuum has arisen a sort of derision towards straight passing ships. The bisexual woman is with an asexual man? Straight. The lesbian gay man who dresses in drag on the regular who nonetheless share a deep emotional chemistry (and history of brainwashing/abuse/abandonment)? Straight. If they are not actively gay they are straight and it mirrors a lot of the real life issues people in these groups face. Because let's be honest; humans are complicated. Feelings are messy. How many queer people do we see before realizing their sexuality got married and had a straight partner and even kids? Did that mean they loved their spouse any less? Ngl one of the depictions of this I've seen is why women kill's Simone and Karl

Tell me they do not love each other. You can love someone and not be attracted to them.

Welp, that was a tangent lmao. Back to your question. My favorite interpretation of Vox in relation to Charlie and Alastor is basically Radiobelle Silence. Where vox attempts to get Charlie to love him to get back at Alastor only to fall for her himself and oh no now he likes them both and is making it everyone's problem. Like Chaz from helluva boss except with money and power to back it up. The ultimate third wheel.

I think one of my discord friends did a doodle that perfectly encapsulates my view on that dynamic and if it's publicly posted I'll let you know nonny. Thanks for your ask!

[thelambliesdown1974]

I posted this is comedy yaoi but actually I need everyone to see it because I’m an educator. In lieu of the mass grief following the recent US election here’s my complete unabridged opinion piece on both the RPF and character-based SCTV yaoi-verse✊

Okay so here’s my introduction paragraph for those now in the know — second city television was a sketch comedy show that ran from ‘76-84 originally in syndication, later on CBC and NBC. It was basically the Canadian ‘underground’ version of SNL except the framing for all the skits was a fictitious dysfunctional television station (SCTV) run by a handful of recurring characters and starring Dave Thomas, John Candy, Catherine O’Hara, Eugene Levy, Joe Flaherty, Andria Martin, Rick Moranis, and Martin Short though in various combinations over the years. Oh and also Harold Ramis but only for the first two seasons so no comment.

I’d say Flaherty was kind of the big brother for everyone else in the operation— he was in the original theatre troupe and part of the show since day one. That’s not to say he was at all authoritarian though, Joe was definitely a soft spoken democratic leader. Maybe like Woodrow Wilson. Or Dumbledore, if that’s more relevant to you personally. I wouldn’t say he has any particularly strong yaoi ties to anyone else in the cast except I guess Eugene Levy since they were kind of each other’s creative muses. HOWEVER…. in terms of SCTV characters their respective newscaster personas Floyd and Earl are undoubtedly boning in a toxic nasty way on station property and probably are also the #1 SCTV couple in a Stefon and Seth sort of way (see below)

I almost forgot they also play classic 70s talk show hosts and there’s a lot of fan-fiction about them getting each other pregnant okay that’s all.

NEXT. John Candy was also one of the original members and while he wasn’t necessarily involved in either type of yaoi, his characters were integral in giving especially season 1 a very homoerotic flair. It was mostly his washed up actor-sona Johnny LaRue constantly and publicly struggling against the gay allegations since his segment in the very first episode. While trying to find that clip I actually instead found this SCTV Reddit image with a poorly overlaid huge Ariel caption that I like better. (See below)

I don’t have a whole lot to say about Catherine O’Hara, I think she was too self respecting both on screen and irl to get involved but I love her. She wrote a lot with Joe and Eugene so they were kind of like a platonic power throuple in my awesome mind. Andria Martin…. I am less sure about. She played the butch lesbian A LOT and I think has confirmed actually had sex with another woman (YURI) but I won’t say anything……. See below. Also interesting photo to use for that particular article.

NEXT….. Okay Dave Thomas, I really am not even sure where to begin with him but he was also one of the chief writers and original troupe members who ended up meeting Rick Moranis and bringing him on in season 3. The whole thing was partly his brainchild and he did author a book on the group’s history however I don’t see Dave as being as serious as Levy or Flaherty writing and production-wise. He’s kind of very theatre guy goofy silly on screen but also has an aura of sociopolitical jadedness that starts coming through in his Bill Needle sketches (a fictional miserable entertainment critic slash commentator I’ll discuss later) but especially once Dave started doing Doug McKenzie after Moranis joined.

They met at some comedy-based party in Canada (the gayest place you can meet) and really hit it off and immediately preformed as a musical duo that night (the gayest activity you can partake in. It’s like Simon and Garfunkel). Rick was kind of the new kid of the group after he was brought on but since Dave was a senior member they ended up working together a lot. The Great White North AKA the McKenzie brother skits are for sure no question what made SCTV anywhere near as well known as it is today and that was Thomas and Moranis’ comedy child. Okay and you might be thinking ‘how are they the most real life yaoiful couple on the cast but also are famous for playing brothers’ — that’s a good question and the answer is just don’t think about it too hard. I think Bob and Doug are more a testament to Dave and Rick’s day 1 original pure beautiful friendship that then laid the path for more later on. Like in this except from Dave’s book ⬇️

Anyway yes they’re 70 year old best friends now and still talk on the phone all the time and it’s awesome. But they were probably the closest out of anyone and both had to simultaneously deal with their sudden and overwhelming joint fame after Great White North blew up, which was unpleasant for both of them and involved a lot of travel and hotel rooms. (See below: an interview photo, their radio appearance promoting their comedy album, and whatever’s happening in the last one. Also notice how Dave’s face is a perfect circle he’s so cute)

Okay circling back to Bill Needle — he was a character Dave started doing in early on that went on until he left the show and he’s kind of irrelevant except for a few yaoiful details. He’s constantly having marital problems and has a weird friendship with the sleazy semi-creepy SCTV station president Guy Caballero whom Flaherty plays, and would I say they’re OFFICIALLY a yaoi couple not really but it’s there.

But yeah anyway in conclusion Rick and Dave show up in a bunch of each others sketches throughout the series and they write together and talk together and have play dates together and kiss and everyone else on SCTV absorbs their faggotry either by free will or by association and I think that’s what’s really important to remember and also I love them and I love you too. Oh and also Martin Short’s there near the end but he’s irrelevant except for inventing Ed Grimly and being Steve Martin’s de facto wife later in life. THE END

[holybatgirlz]

@bridgertonbabe had me cackling over her bridgerton spouse support groupchat that I couldn't stop thinking about what the bridgerton sibling chat looked like in the aftermath of game night.

(All credit to Bridgertonbabe for this chaotic mess)

----

🐝 The Children Group Chat 🐝

Violet: Alright. 

Violet: Who started it?

Anthony: Started what?

Hyacinth: What exactly is it u r referencing mother?

Violet: Oh you all know exactly what it is I am talking about. 

Violet: Who started the fight this time? 

Benedict: I did. It started. 

Violet: No. 

Violet: I know you probably fueled it once it began, but you didn’t start it. So once again I must ask.  

Violet: Who started the fight?

Eloise: Who told you we fought?

Violet: Sophie did. After I learned from Agatha that an ambulance was called for your husband.  

Eloise: He's fine Mum. He had a panic attack because Anthony wouldn’t get off his ass about the rules. 

Anthony: The rules clearly say when you land on someone's properties you have to pay them. Not my fault he couldn’t.

Eloise: He couldn’t pay u because u r a deranged asshole who puts interest on his properties like some money hungry slumlord.  

Eloise: Who puts interest rates in Monopoly? 

Francesca: It was my fault Mum. I started it.

Violet: NO

Violet: You and Benedict both hate confrontations. I know neither one of you started it. 

Violet: Who 

Violet: Started 

Violet: The fight

Violet: At Daphne’s game night?

Daphne: I would like to point out that Hyacinth is being abnormally quiet right now.

Hyacinth: Excuse me?!

Eloise: You were exceptionally vitriol with the rest of us that night. More so than usual.

Hyacinth: Mother. I feel like this would be a good time to inform you that Eloise broke a £5000 vase that night.  

Eloise: OMFG

Eloise: Et tu Brutus?

Hyacinth:

Hyacinth: throw me under the bus again I dare u

Colin: You did throw it across a room. 

Colin: At my head I should add. 

Eloise: I purposefully aimed away from your head dummy. That’s why it hit the wall. 

Colin: 

Colin: Did you?

Eloise: WELL HYACINTH BROUGHT A SWITCHBLADE. 

Hyacinth: Liar!!!!

Hyacinth: it’s a penknife. Not a switchblade. Get it right. 

Gregory: Yh Anthony still has her switchblade from when we all played Cluedo 

Colin: talk about Miss Hyacinth in the parlor with the knife. U nearly killed Benedict. And Gregory. And Simon!

Benedict: I still have the scar

Anthony: Not to mention the fire damage.

Gregory: Well the fire was Daphne’s fault.

Violet: Please do not remind me about the Cluedo incident. It gives me a migraine every time I think about the damage you all did to my house that night. 

Francesca: Isn’t even the most concerning part. Hyacinth. How did you get another knife? 

Hyacinth: It’s for protection

Francesca: That did not even remotely answer the question I asked you

Hyacinth: Gareth got it for me

Anthony: Gareth isn’t stupid enough to give you a weapon.

Hyacinth: He is after getting mugged 

Violet: 🫢 Gareth was mugged?

Hyacinth: He’s fine. He was a little shaken up but they didn’t get anything off of him. They just roughed him up a little and scared him.

Colin: Why do I have a sneaking suspicion you had some involvement in this mugging?

Hyacinth: Why would I mug my husband???

Benedict: Ulterior motives. As unreasonable as a theory that may sound. This is also you we are talking about. 

Colin: How do we know you didn’t mug him so that he would get your hands on another knife? 

Hyacinth: I plead the fifth

Anthony: Hyacinth!

Hyacinth: Again

Hyacinth: A £5000 vase was destroyed that night.

Hyacinth: And not by me.

Eloise: if anyone is at fault it’s Daphne. It was her idea. 

Daphne: Why am I at fault for trying to have a nice family get together?

Francesca: Because u should have known this is exactly what would have happened

Violet: Must I remind you all that you nearly gave Phillip a heart attack. The poor man had to spend the night there for observation. 

Benedict: And you all made Sophie cry

Eloise: Jesus Christ. She’s pregnant Benedict. Ofc she’s going to cry. She literally cried last week telling me about the tiny baby shoes she crocheted. 

Daphne: In her defense. They were adorable.  

Benedict: 😤😤😤 They are the cutest little baby shoes. I’m so excited to see my daughter wearing them. 

Benedict: But that’s not the point. You yelled at her Eloise.

Eloise: Because she wasn’t doing anything except sitting on the couch while Phillip was hyperventilating.

Benedict: Maybe because she’s SEVEN MONTHS PREGNANT AND CAN’T MOVE!

Eloise: omg Benedict get over it 

Benedict: my wife was in tears over what happened and then you and Kate both felt the need to gang up on her because she wouldn’t hand her remaining cash to you.

Eloise: She was leaving.

Benedict: BECAUSE she was the one who went with Phillip to A&E because YOU were too busy arguing with Daphne about the income tax rule.

Eloise: It was unreasonable and unnecessary for me to have to pay it because I had more money than the rest of you

Daphne: Says known socialist Eloise Bridgerton 

Eloise removed Daphne from the chat

Anthony added Daphne to the chat

Daphne: Bitch

Violet: Daphne do not call your sister a bitch

Eloise: Bitch Bitch

Violet: ELOISE!

Gregory: I think it's safe to say that Anthony’s unreasonable rules are what led to the conflict starting. We all know he’s the most competitive.

Colin: Agreed

Eloise: Agreed

Daphne: Yeah that’s true

Hyacinth: Agreed

Anthony: Because Gregory isn’t the reason we have to have them in the first place. You cheat. All the time.

Gregory: Well I learned it from you didn’t I?

Anthony: You hid all the tokens so that Lucy could pick one first.

Anthony: Then you pressured her into teaming up with you after she claimed all the good spots. Then you started extorting and threatening the rest of us. Not to mention I am genuinely concerned you do not know how interest rates work given the numbers you were giving us were completely off. And I will not even discuss your blatant disrespect for the get out jail free card. 

Anthony: What do you have to say for yourself?

Gregory: That my wife didn’t key a car

Colin: oh snap

Daphne: WHAT?!?!?

Daphne: SHE DID WHAT?!!

Colin: 🤣🤣🤣 it was Kate who did it!?

Gregory: Yh apparently Amelia caught her in 4K HD keying Simon’s car while Phillip was being loaded into the ambulance. 

Daphne: KATE WAS THE ONE WHO KEYED SIMON’S CAR?!?

Gregory sent a video.

Violet: Good lord.

Violet: Why are you all like this?

Anthony: I would like to make it clear I will neither condemn nor condone my wife’s actions. She is her own woman and will do what she wishes without my input or opinion.  

Anthony: However it wasn’t as though it was without reason. 

Francesca: Omfg Anthony

Hyacinth: Gregory how the hell do you know this??

Colin: How did you get the video?

Gregory: because MY WIFE loves me and sent me the video when she told me about it

Violet: how the hell did all eight of you inherit your father’s competitive streak?? 

Violet: EIGHT. We had eight children and you all got it. It’s not normal. 

Francesca: Mother. If I may. 

Francesca: We’ve all seen how you get watching baking shows. 

Violet: That is not the same and you know it!

Francesca: Mother. Again. 

Francesca: I say this with nothing but love and respect.

Francesca: Anthony had to restrict the Food Channel on the cable box for three years after you broke the TV. You literally are not allowed to be left alone when The Great British Bake Off is on.

Francesca: I’m quite certain the reason we are all like this is because dad’s competitiveness got mixed in with your insane stubbornness.

Violet removed Francesca from the chat.

Hyacinth: Omg Mum did you banish Francesca to the shadow realm!?!

Gregory: I had no idea she even knew how to do that

Violet removed Gregory from the chat.

Hyacinth: GREGORY NOOoooo

[hina-hina]

Hi! How are you doing? Well i hope! This is my first time sending a request (ever) and i don't know how exactly this works. I apologize if I did/do something wrong!

But i was wondering if you could write something about a reader who draws everyone in the group because they are so inspiring and cool! And they know that, even teasing Ghost because they never saw the reader draw him even as a little stick man haha.

But what do you think would happened if the reader left their skechtbook open on the pages dedicated only to Ghost (and he ends up seeing), even with small poems or love declarations in the corners of the page? The descripition of the drawings can be whatever you want, spicy ones, fluffly, badass memories the reader has about him, anything!

(Reader doesn't participate directly in the battlefield but act "behind the cameras" because they are a little clumsy and desperate when it comes to pressure.)

(Simon riley x gn or fem!reader )

And if you can't write this at all is tottaly fine! I don't even know if you are gonna read this lol. Also, i love your writing and the way you write everything with the right measure of fluffly stuff makes everything even better. Without further ado, have a good night / afternoon / day.

☆anon! <3

Hello friend!! First off, thank you for all the sweet stuff you said about my writing!! It really warms my heart knowing people like what I write. Second of all, this request is so cute!! I also quite like to draw and I love the headcanon of any character drawing him or what he looks like!! Thank you for requesting, I hope you enjoy!! (≧∇≦)ﾉ

→ COD Masterlist

|| Ghost With an S/O Who Secretly Draws Him ||

Tags: Military!Reader, Artist!Reading, Fluff, Blushy Ghost, Pre-Relationship, Getting Together, Soft Ghost, Awkward Ghost (lol)

Warnings: None

Gender-Neutral!Reader // Romantic

So, like what is stated in the request, you worked as a intelligence analysis for the 141

You spent a lot of time with the 141, working with informants to properly distribute intelligence to its members

You worked off field, often staying on base due to your clumsy nature

You liked to spend time with the 141 while they were on base, usually by hanging out in a pub or in the rec room

When Soap noticed you drawing one day, he encouraged you to draw him which then led to you drawing other members of the 141

Your sketchbook was filled with pictures of Captain Price, Gaz, Soap, and even a few of Laswell

Most of these drawings show them in action, a way for you to express just how inspiring they are

You drew everyone, everyone except Ghost

This often caused him to get teased as you guys hung out, Soap making numerous comments about the mask causing him to be "undrawable"

Ghost doesn't seem to mind all that much, but you really can't tell with the mask how he feels

Whenever the subject gets brought up, however, you start to blush and try to change the subject which made Ghost slightly curious

Therefore, one day when he goes to your on-base quarters in order to inform you of an upcoming briefing

When Ghost knocks on the door, the door opens due to it having been cracked

Ghost pauses for a moment, before stepping into the room and calling out your name

When he notices that the room is empty, he starts to leave before noticing your sketchbook laying open on the edge of your bunk

He knew it was wrong to invade your privacy, about to leave and reprimand himself for even considering looking through your property

However, when he caught a glimpse of a skull drawing, he couldn't help but inch closer

He told himself that he would just take a quick look and leave before you even knew he had went to your room

This fails however when he gets a really good look at the page

On the page, beside the photo of his skull mask, is a photo of him

Or, what he could guess is what you think he looks like without his mask

He is surprised at how accurate it is, a few scars missing here and there but overall he could tell it was meant to be him

He forgets himself for a moment, picking the boot up to get a closer look

He notices that you had wrote notes in the margins, notes on things that were apparently wrong with the drawing

He glances back at the ajar door before quickly turning the page

On the next page, he is even more taken aback

This page includes photos of him in action or just relaxing in the rec room, some with his mask on some without

He notices more writing in the margins, noticing that it is written in a much fancier way that the notes from the previous page

He reads it, feeling his face become hot from under his balaclava as he realizes they are love notes

From poems to letters, they range in tone and length, obviously being well-thought out

He is very taken aback by the words, not thinking that anyone could ever say these kind of things about someone like him

Suddenly, he hears footsteps coming up from down the hallway, causing him to snap the book shut and spin around, not having nearly enough time to leave as you appeared in the doorway

You had clearly been coming back from the showers as you pause not expecting him to be standing in your room

When you ask him what he is doing there, he feels himself at a loss for words

"Uh-"

Before he could even collect his thoughts you realize your sketchbook is now missing from where you had left it, searching Ghost's masked face before realizing

"You looked through my sketchbook..."

It wasn't a question, rather a statement of fact

Ghost sighs, feeling the edges of guilt pulling at his consciousness, holding the closed book out to you,

"Price sent me to find you and your door was left open, so-"

You snatch the book from his hand, "So you thought it was fine to go through my stuff?"

Ghost feels a twinge of annoyance at your tone, before reminding himself that he was in the wrong

"It was wrong. I'm sorry."

You fiddle with the edge of your book, not daring to make eye contact with him

"...Did you read it."

He briefly considers lying, if only to give himself more time to process his feelings

He doesn't do this however, replying with a quiet, "...Yes."

You nod, turning away to set your book and shower caddy down before heading toward the door,

"I'll go talk to Price about getting transferred. I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable-"

"Wait-"

His hand shoots out and grabs your arm, causing a shiver to run down your back as you turn to face him

It's hard to tell anything about what he is thinking with the mask so you just wait for him to continue

Eventually his grip loosens, but he doesn't let go,

"It didn't."

"...What?"

"It didn't... Make me uncomfortable."

This surprised you, but when he didn't continue you turn fully to him, about to probe him to continue when he awkwardly moved his hands down to your waist to pull you further from the door

"I... like you... too."

The words are forced out, him clearly not being used to this but not willing to let you just walk out of his life

You smile shyly back at him, placing your hands slowly on the sides of his neck in case he wants to pull away

He doesn't

"Really?"

He nods, showing you a rare vulnerability that proves that he wasn't used to this at all

You can't help the urge to kiss him, placing your hands around the edge of his balaclava

"May I?"

He doesn't respond, instead taking one hand off of your waist to pull off his mask completely, placing the hand on the side of your face before moving closer to you, silently asking for a kiss

You quickly oblige

The kiss is soft, just a quick press of lips filled with a gentleness that he deserved

You pull back, pressing your hands into his cheeks and marveling at the way he presses into your hands

"Guess I wasn't too far off, huh?"

He smiles slightly, grabbing your hand and moving it down to the large scar that stretched across his cheek,

"Forgot this one."

You move your hands across it lightly, just your fingertips making contact

"I'll get it in the next one."

You smile, moving back in for another kiss and wrapping your hands around his neck to pull him closer

He knew the two of you would be late to the briefing

He couldn't find it in himself to care

Thanks for reading!! ⇣Taglist⇣ @scarlettprooff @unabashednightmarepizza @kk00789 @cl0udii-m00n @polar2oidsworld @meepsters-world @uwu-i-purple-you

[blueiscoool]

Hoard of 17th-Century Coins Hidden During English Civil War Found

During a kitchen renovation, a family in England unexpectedly discovered a hoard of coins that was likely buried for safekeeping during the first English Civil War.

A family in England discovered nearly 400-year-old buried treasure during a recent home renovation project. The find includes more than 1,000 gold and silver coins that were likely hidden during the first English Civil War.

Betty and Robert Fooks unexpectedly unearthed the 17th-century hoard at their cottage in South Poorton Farm, Dorset, in 2019. Now, these coins have hit the auction block and sold for upward of $75,900 (60,740 British pounds), according to the hammer prices listed by Duke's, an auction house in Dorchester that handled the sales.

Robert Fooks made the discovery while pickaxing the kitchen floor to remove about 2 feet (0.6 meter) of flooring material, including modern concrete, old flagstone and bare earth. Then, he saw a broken glazed-ceramic vessel brimming with coins in the layer of soil dating back about 400 years. It's unclear if the bowl was broken before or during the recent discovery, according to Duke's.

The couple contacted a local finds liaison officer, who arranged for the coins to be sent to the British Museum, where they were cleaned and identified, according to The Guardian. The British Museum noted that the coins were likely deposited on a single occasion between about 1642 and 1644, dates likely based on the coins' mint dates.

The coins in the collection, named the Poorton Coin Hoard, range from modest sixpences, which were worth six pennies, to a coveted gold "unite" coin that was worth 20 shillings, or 1 pound, and depict the visages of English monarchs Edward VI; Mary and her husband Philip; Elizabeth I; James I; and Charles I, who ruled successively from 1547 to 1649.

Many of the coins sold individually or in groups at auction on April 23. A single gold coin of Charles I brought in the highest price, at 5,000 British pounds ($6,260), while some lots went for far more than their estimated value.

The period in which the coins were likely hidden — 1642 to 1644 — coincides with the first English Civil War, which lasted from 1642 to 1646. The three civil wars were fought between supporters of the English monarch, then Charles I, and Parliament, to determine the balance of power between the crown and Parliament.

"Perhaps the most important short-term significance of the Civil Wars was that it culminated in the execution of King Charles I in 1649 and a republic was established for the first time in English history which lasted 11 years," Waseem Ahmed, a doctoral student of history at University College London who specializes in 17th century British political history but was not involved in the hoard's discovery or analysis.

It's no surprise that people hid their money back then, as warfare during this time included the seizure of opponents' property, he said.

"If you were a royalist or suspected royalist, you could have your estates sequestrated (seized) by the Parliamentary side and vice versa," Ahmed explained. This may be the case for the 17th-century homeowner, as Dorset was a hotspot for troop movements and the turbulence that followed.

It's likely that someone buried the Poorton Coin Hoard with the hopes of safeguarding it and retrieving it later. And while the treasure was certainly safeguarded, its retrieval took four centuries longer than its owner likely desired.

"If we hadn't lowered the floor, they would still be hidden there," Betty Fooks told The Guardian. "I presume the person intended to retrieve them but never got the chance."

By Hannah Kate Simon.

[ohbo-ohno]

“gets him fucking you harder, saying more and more in your ear about how they're never letting you even look at another person again, never letting you off their property.”

ugh this is just so 🫢 possessive serial killer ghoap and their pretty little innocent reader. They earned you the instant they killed your last friend.

Johnny is always growling in your ear about how you’re never going to look at another person again, constantly reminds you that it’s bad to look at anyone but him or Simon.

And then they use you as bait when they’re bored and want to kill again. As soon as you make eye contact with someone as they’re trying to figure out how to get you out safely (maybe you’re loose in the forest, but have chains between your ankles and wrists and connecting your wrists to your neck) and you’re trying to explain everything to them but it’s too late, johnny and Simon are already shooting, sending the group scattering while you’re left sobbing, begging them not to leave you. Your punishment after the victims are all dead is brutal that night because you don’t get it!! You’re supposed to participate in the game!! And you looked at every single one of those strangers, don’t you remember you’re not allowed to look at anyone but Simon or Johnny?

The next time they use you as bait, you cower and refuse to look anyone in the eye. Johnny praises you and lovingly bathes you that night for being such a good girl and doing as she was told.

🌚 anon (I have so many thoughts about serial killer ghoap and not enough brainpower to verbalize them all)

this is sick and twisted i love it

i also have so many thoughts about serial killer ghoap, it's a disease. will probably end up writing a most dangerous game au and plop some of these scenes/scenarios right in it

they EARNED YOU!!!!!

taking you into town, telling you anyone you look at is fair game for them to kill. makes you keep your head ducked real low, eyes wide and hands trembling as you fight every instinct screaming inside you to look up and beg for help. they tease you with it, too - you'll glance at something on a shelf and ghost will raise an eyebrow, go "him? whatever you say, doll." and it's a guy like 6 feet away who you barely saw in your peripheral. tortures him and turns to you, says "you picked a good one, don't you love the way he screams?" and relishes the way you sob. really helps beat it into your head that looking at anyone else ever is Bad.

sometimes they like to play the game with just you, no other distractions. if you try to avoid running, they'll force you. fuck with your flight instinct until you give into it and let them chase. shoot at the ground right near your feet, bit the air right near your ear, shout right behind you, all the kind of things that force you straight into adrenaline. you know they're making you run because they want to chase, know there's no universe in which you actually get away from them, but the fear drives you and you can't help but run.

being used as bait during the game and not tied up... oh my god

the chains are meant to hobble you, like you said. they're not risking you getting away under and circumstance. and maybe they lock the other prey into kink gear too (a la The Hunt, good movie pls go watch). you have to stay hunched a little bit not to hurt your joints, makes you real cautious and scared of everything like a real prey animal. any time anyone comes to help you you get so distressed, beg them to go and leave you alone. you try to tell them it's a trap, but they're dead/grabbed as soon as you manage to get the words out. get a nasty glare from johnny or simon in response, but they just wander back into the woods and leave you there to draw in more victims for them

"Your punishment after the victims are all dead is brutal that night because you don’t get it!! You’re supposed to participate in the game!! And you looked at every single one of those strangers, don’t you remember you’re not allowed to look at anyone but Simon or Johnny?" do you think it's funny to try and kill me, smirking moon???? you won't be laughing when im found dead from a heart attack after reading this i can tell you that!!!!

johnny in particular gets mad at you. he'll grab you by the shoulders, shake you and shout in your face. why are you being so fucking stupid? don't you get it? if you don't play along, the game isn't nearly as fun. why are you ruining this for them?

but simon gets it, he understands that your heart is near bursting from fear. uses that to his advantage, cows you into doing whatever he wants. it's easier when you're nearly pissing yourself in terror

johnny would be so happy once you finally gave in and played along, and simon would be horribly smug. johnny would be scooping you up with a big grin, telling you how proud he is of you, how glad he is you finally gave in, how hot it was to kill people with you watching. and simon is just right in your ear, purring about how good you are for doing what you're supposed to, for finally giving in to your urges (that you don't have, you don't, you hated seeing those people die, hated hearing their screams, feeling their blood-)

[the-gone-ton]

The Mall at the Source was spearheaded by the Fortunoff family, owners of the flagship luxury Fortunoff department store on the property. Originally it was to be much larger, comparable to the Roosevelt Field Mall nearby, and was to be called the Long Island Galleria. A scaled back version of the project became the Mall at the Source, opened in 1997 by Simon Property Group. The mall has suffered ever since 2009, when Fortunoff and other major tenants went bust. It has sold several times and was renovated within the past few years to add more entrances and more bland tiles & paint, and it was renamed to Samanea New York. But this hasn't prevented the mall from becoming a maze of empty corridors.