#all the black girls look like they got a damn bucket wig on

[sakuramisthaven]

I wish we had less mystery brown characters in sso.

rant in tags😮‍💨

[ubernoxa]

Chapter 1: Welcome to the Jungle

Chapter Summary: A chance encounter wil Izzy Stradlin.

Did I make another fanfic to hopefully get rid of my writers block from the other one? Yes. Will I have writers block in like 3 chapters? Probably. Did I write it anyway? Yes. Enjoy!

“Fuck,” Celi cussed under her breath as she attempted to tune the stupid guitar for the fifth time. The damn thing wouldn’t tune, and she was in no mood to deal with it.

Originally she wasn’t supposed to even be the one tuning the damn instruments that was Janet’s responsibility. Celi was to help setup the amp and help move any other required items to the stage. Long story short, she was tired, sweaty, and in desperate need of a shower. Janet however had been with the Hempers longer than anyone has. She was more than just another groupie. She was untouchable, and she knew it. That is why she was currently riding the lead singer of Hempers instead of doing her job. That’s how it working though.

Who were the Hempers? A rock band that no one knew. They probably had a year left before they faded into existence. This was something Morgi, another groupie, would say when only Celi listened. They were career groupies as the magazines called it. It is kinda funny how wrong the magazines were about the ‘groupie lifestyle’. It was all a game. Everyone starts somewhere at the bottom with a band that no one has ever heard from. Then you climb from there. You would always hope to impress the band or some manager enough for them to want to bring you along. The method of impressing people would carry from groupie to groupie. For the guys, it was about moving the heavy equipment fast and being buds with the band. For the girls it was a completely different game.

So here she was sitting on a broken stool in a room closet backstage attempting to tune various instruments. When asked to tune the instruments she couldn’t say no. All she could do was bite her tongue and offer a fake smile to the stage manager. Time flew by as she tuned.

“Jesus you fuckin scared me,” Celi said to the figure that stood in the doorway. He was tall with greasy black hair. Her eyes immediately shot to the guitar he held in his hand, so was he a groupie tuning instruments too?

“You using this room?”

“Yeah I’m tuning. You can join though too if you need to tune. This is probably one of the quietest rooms here,” Izzy smiled at the red head as she spoke. Something about her sitting alone in a storage closet tuning guitars while sitting on a plastic trash bin was amusing to him.

“You can move my hat I have rested on that bucket there and use it as a makeshift seat,” Celi said before going back to tuning.

She looked the stranger she now shared the closet with up and down. He must be a groupie with Guns N’ Roses. The question was how long had he been with them?

“Alright,” Izzy said before placing the light brown hat on her head earning a quick giggle from her.

They room was filled with nothing but the sound of them tuning for the next couple of minutes until Izzy broke the silence.

“Is it busted or something?” Celi cringed at his judgmental tone.

“Yup, I glued it together a month ago because its owner broke it. Kinda a shame, she used to be the easiest to tune,” Celi sighed as she spoke. She used to love this guitar but lately she had been wanting to set it on fire.

“She?” Izzy quizzed without looking up.

“Yeah the guitar is a bitch. Bitches are usually female,” Now for the first time Izzy’s laughter filled the room.

“Mind if I play something?” Izzy needed to warm up and his band was currently pissing him off.

“As long as I can join it,” Celi added,

Within seconds Celi noticed the song and joined in.

“Ugh,” I hate this guitar. Celi groaned as she messed up about half way through the song.

“Try this,” Izzy spent the next 10 or so minutes walking Celi through the cords. He had played the cords thousands of times, but for some reason felt nervous explaining them to the red head in front of him.

“Thanks,” Celi smiled as he walked her through the cords. It reminded her of when her brother was first teaching her.

“There you go!” Izzy cheered as she finally got it. God her smile was beautiful.

“I couldn’t have done it without my amazing teacher,” Celi pokes him as she spoke.

“If you have time after the show I’ll gladly show you more,” he replied. This made the butterflies in Celi’s stomach to wild.

“I’d love to! Now I have to go and take a freezing cold shower,” Celi joked as she stood up collecting her things.

“If you want Guns has heated showers that you are more than welcome to use. I can let the security know you’re coming.” Celi turned at his words.

“Ohh what are you apart of the band or something? Oh are you secretly Slash or something? How did you fit all that hair under that wig you now wear?” Celi teased the groupie in front of her.

“I’ve been with the band for a while so I can pull some strings,” His cocky tone caught Celi off guard.

“You would do that for me? Thanks!” She kissed him on the cheek and left the room instruments in hand. It wasn’t until she left the room that she never asked for his name. She mentally kicked herself as the idea of a warm shower was fading away.

After placing the instruments in their dedicated spaces she grabbed her towel and a change of clothes.

“Where are you going?” Celi froze as she ran into Morgi who was most likely coming back from activities with the Hemp’s lead singer.

“Shower! I met a Guns groupie who said he could get me a warm shower!”

“Oh lucky bitch!” Morgi smirked. She then pulled Celi in closer and whispered, “if you get an in let me know. God knows Hemp isn’t getting much bigger than they are now.

Celi just nodded her head and left to the showers. She felt the nerves return to her stomach as she approached the secure guard.

“Hey, I’m Celi...umm I was uhh told,” she was quickly cut off by the security man. Part of her was great fun that the security guard cut her off.

“Yeah Mat will lead you to the showers,” Celi felt a sense of relief flash across her body as she followed the second guard backstage. After wandering through hallway after hallways they stopped in front of a door that read two names: Izzy Stradlin and Axl Rose.

“I’m sorry, but I think you might be mistaken,” Celi’s comment was quickly met with laughter from the guard.

“If you want we have other showers, but Izzy told us to let you use his,” the guard first knocked on the door and waited for a response. After none was give he opened the door and motioned for Celi to go inside.

“Celi,was it?”she turned at the security guard’s voice. She nodded her head.

“Welcome to the jungle,” he said before closing the door behind him.

[bnhvrdy]

Pretty Girl

Pairing: Ben Hardy x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, swearing, fluff

words: 3k

Request: Can you do a fic where the reader gets hot and bothered when she sees ben hardy dressed as rogerina and he fucks her in his trailer while wearing the wig and the whole shabang? xoxo - hope you all enjoy!

Almost silent snores mixed with the blaring of the four-a.m. alarm, a small groan pushed past Ben’s lips.

Eyes closed, his hand mindlessly reached for his annoying iPhone. Empty-handed, Ben pried an eye open only to remember that he purposely placed the resonating piece of shit by the door, a way to really get him up for the early-call of the day’s scene.

Carefully, Ben inched his arm away from the sleeping figure beside him. Once his arm was freed, a small hand wrapped around his bicep and tugged him back towards herself.

“Don’t go,” [Y/n] muttered sleepily.

His eyes scanned her face. Baby hairs curled around her face, her lips slightly swollen and a dry drool stain streaked on the skin that lead from the corner of her mouth to her chin. The black hood of his own sweater hid the rest of her head, a halo of black around her through the darkness mixed with the intruding street and building lights that pushed through the window of the trailer’s bedroom.

Ben rubbed his eye, his lips against her forehead. [Y/n] scooted closer, any attempt to curl her body into his and tempt him back into their joint peaceful slumber. He brushed the little curls from her face into the hoodie and pressed another kiss to her forehead.

“I have to get to set, baby. Sleep in,” Ben murmured huskily into her skin. The grip on his bicep went slack, [Y/n]’s soft snores joined the phone’s blaring that he completely forgot about.

The next time [Y/n] fully woke up, the temptation of sleep almost lulled her right back in. It would have succeeded had she not peeked open her eye and noticed her lover’s body missing.

She couldn’t clearly recall him leaving; all she could recall was that damn ringtone that he refused to change for his alarms. She always teased him for sticking to the default; his rebuttal each time was that he hated it so much, he’d have no choice but to wake in the morning to turn off the damn thing.

[Y/n] smiled to herself, hearing his counter-argument ring in his voice through her head. Arms stretched over her head but under her pillow, toes pointed towards the end of bed and her calves tensing, her chest heaving upwards and her head tilted back with her face scrunched, she released a loud mix of a moan and groan. She rolled herself out of bed, pulling up the sweatpants she stole from Ben and rolling up the sleeves of his hoodie.

With a quick twist to each side and a satisfying crack from her back, [Y/n] looked around the room before she decided to keep the sweatpants but change into a loose shirt with a sports bra underneath.

Just before walking out, [Y/n] noticed the note scribbled in purple dry erase marker on the mirror that covered the entire wall opposite the bed.

On set when you wake up. Music vid shoot today, building c. Get yourself a coffee and anything else. Already paid. See you soon xx

With a coffee in hand and breakfast sandwich in the other, [Y/n] made her way to Building C of the Lot and pushed the door open with her elbow before she sneaked past. A couple quick “good mornings” as she walked towards the set with her coffee cup pressed to her lips and paper bag to her chest.

A small gasp left her lips as she looked around, not believing where she was. She was standing in an exact replica of the iconic Queen music video. The couch and single seat between the coffee table, the kitchen on the other side of the wall, the duster that would be in Rami’s hands as he danced around.

The boys were nowhere to be seen yet, but she couldn’t imagine what it would be like. Rami in a leather mini skirt and wig with a mustache, Gwilym in a night gown and colorful curlers in his wig, Joe with a greyed wig and little bucket hat, Ben in a skirt with his thighs exposed and…She bit her lip with an eyebrow quirked. She took a quick glance around the room, looking for any indication that the boys were going to show themselves.

The sound of her name called out caused [Y/n] to turn around, spotting Joe and Gwilym. Not being able to contain her laughter, she spat out a bit of her coffee before bursting into a little fit. Joe strutted in response, his newspaper acted as a fan. Gwilym wiggled his eyebrows at her as his hands placed themselves onto his hips. Another laugh erupted from her, only cut short with the sound of a wolf whistle.

[Y/n] glanced out and felt her breath stop short. An uncontrollable heat passed through her body and settled in her core at the sight before her.

His pouty lips were coated in pink lip gloss, the soft glow radiating from his cheek bones, the long blonde hair framing his face perfectly, his sheer black pantyhose deliciously stretched over his thick thighs. Her eyes roamed over his figure a few more times before their eyes met, a knowing smirk on Ben’s lips and a sly smile on her own. She felt the heat rushing to her cheeks, growing hotter in her belly.

“I see you got my note,” Ben chuckled and reached for [Y/n]’s coffee. She’d normally playfully yank it away from, pointing out that he should have gotten his own, but her attention was on how beautifully the pink gloss sat on his puckered lips. It took Ben moving her coffee right in front of her for her to blink, focusing her attention anywhere but Ben’s glittery pink lips.

Ben’s lips moved, his words not heard. A lazy, satisfied smile splayed across [Y/n]’s face and with a small step forward, she reached for a lock of blonde hair and twirled it carefully between her fingers. The golden lock slipped past her fingers, her hand now sat dangerously close to the first button of the white shirt.

“You look so pretty, baby,” [Y/n] disclosed loud enough for herself and for Ben to stop talking.

Ben’s eyes stayed on her face. He watched her eyes droop down, her finger alternated between flicking against the first button of his shirt and tugging at the string of the hat that sat on his back; through those half-lidded eyes, he was sure that her irises completely disappeared, hiding behind her full-blown pupils.

“You are so pretty, baby,” she cooed, her hand moved back to his hair, mindlessly (more like pretending to) fixing the locks she played with and stepped closer so that her lips brushed against his chin.

Ben swallowed; his eyes took a quick glance around the room to reassure himself that no one way paying attention to the way his girlfriend pressed herself to him. He wasn’t sure if anybody could tell he was blushing underneath the full-coverage foundation, but he could feel the heat crawl its way up his neck and onto his face, some of it traveling down south. He wasn’t sure how he’d pull off an erection in a skirt that was above his midthighs.

“What’s going through that head of yours, pretty girl” Ben urged. [Y/n] peeked up at him through her eyelashes, her lip worried between her teeth, her hand brushed against the belt of his skirt. The heat in his body grew hotter, his body pressed closer to hers to cover his growing erection. His lips pressed to her warm cheek, a low whimper came from her.

“Is it the lip gloss” his hand cupped her chin, thumb brushed across her bottom lip, “is it the hair,” his eyes glanced around before pushing his thumb past her lips and into her mouth, “or is it the way the skirt hugs my legs?”

With her eyes rolling into the back of her head, [Y/n] sucked on his thumb, eliciting a soft groan and a flutter of his eyes as she swirled her tongue around, seconds before moving away, letting go with a pop.

“All of it,” [Y/n] answered, almost breathlessly, eyelashes batting up at him.

Her nails raked down his chest, his torso, fingers brushed past the soft material of his skirt, nails dragging down his thighs with a little more force. Ben looked down, his eyes glued to the tears in his pantyhose. He glanced up, a sly and sultry smile on [Y/n]’s face.

“Oops,” she played off innocently, pushing her way through the crowd and towards the door, a wink thrown Ben’s way as she exited.

Ben groaned internally. He called to one of the assistant director’s, notifying them that he somehowmanaged to tear the pantyhose, that he’d be right back for the scene after he changed into a new pair. He pushed his way through the crowd, following the path of his girlfriend, a brief stop and playful glare towards a knowing and giggling Joe.

The first thing Ben noticed when he entered his trailer was [Y/n] sitting on the small kitchenette counter, one leg cross over the over, her foot bouncing, and her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. A sly grin spread across his gloss-covered lips, he made his way towards her. Her legs uncrossed and spread, allowing him access, his hands settled on the counter on the sides of her legs. His nose brushed against her jaw, a quick intake from her side.

“Mm,” Ben hummed, his bangs tickling her skin. “You look so pretty right now, baby,” Ben whispered, his lips ghosting over her skin. “All hot and bothered. Just because of me, isn’t that right, pretty girl?”

His left hand moved to her thigh, a squeeze when she took too long to respond.

“Yes,” she breathed out, “God, yes.”

Ben hummed in satisfaction, his nose ran up her throat and up to the sweet spot just below her ear. A deep chuckled left his lips, a smile tugged at his lips.

“Is it because you want to know what it feels like to have my glossed lips on your skin? Pressed against each and every inch? Or is it that you want me to fuck you good while I’m wearing the skirt? Hmm?” Ben teased and finally pressed his lips to her sweet spot. A quiet moan and her head lulling to the side at the simple feeling, the way the gloss stuck to her skin as his lips pulled away.

“Anything else, pretty girl?” Ben murmured, his finger trailing down her chest and down the valley of her breasts, dipping into the waistband of her (his) sweatpants. Her chest heaved up and down, another one of his fingers slipping into the waistband and fingering the waistband of her panties.

“I want to fuck myself on your thighs,” [Y/n] whimpered, her hands gripped the edge of the counter.

“Yeah, pretty girl?” Ben implored. His hands wrapped around her thighs, pulling her closer. [Y/n]’s legs wrapped around his waist, crossing at the ankles. A small grind of her hips against his caused Ben to groan his hands moving from her thighs to her ass and he moved them both to the couch.

Her hands went down to his thigh, her nails dragging up and down the small tears. She looked at him, her eyes completely black, silently begging him to let her finish the job. He responded by pushing himself lower on the couch, his black skirt riding up and revealing his garter, his arms thrown over the back of the couch with an arched eyebrow.

With a swift movement, [Y/n] ripped the pantyhose off that entire leg. Fingers trailed over every inch of skin and muscle, the tips dipping into the garter, causing Ben to shiver, his hand moving to hold her face.

“Strip for me, pretty girl. Let me see you,” Ben exhorted.

[Y/n] all but ripped off her clothes. She settled herself back onto Ben’s exposed thigh, her wet pussy on his bare skin. They moaned at the sensation. [Y/n]’s hands on Ben’s shoulders, his own on her bare hip, helping her move, helping her fuck herself on his thigh.

Moans filled the trailer, Ben’s eyes trained on the patch of glistening skin of his thigh. She ground herself harder onto the tense muscle, faster as she felt her slick cover both of their thighs. Her hands grip onto his shoulder, her hips rocking herself against faster and faster. Ben tenses his leg and lifts it up, a gasp escapes her lips as it hits her clit so deliciously well.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispered

Ben’s hands found her hips and he’s guided her movements, pulling her higher onto his thigh. Her clit caught on the garter and her forehead is pressed against his neck, her mouth opened in a silent scream and her body is shaking from her high.

“Good girl,” Ben breathed, his hands pushing her down onto his thigh. Little sighs and gasps left her lips as she moved back to look at him. Her eyes moved down to his thigh, soaked along with the garter. She moaned at the sight before looking back at him.

“We’ve got to make this one quick, baby,” Ben urged. His hand tapped [Y/n]’s thigh, she climbed off, positioning herself on her hands and knees. Ben’s hands moved to the waistband of the black skirt and [Y/n] frantically told called him to stop. Ben’s thumb hooked into the waistband, his eyes on her and eyebrows raised in confusion.

“Keep the skirt on,” [Y/n] blurted. Ben paused for a moment, his lips parted and eyes growing darker. His hands frantically pulled down his underwear and pulled the skirt up higher, his hand stroking his cock while he positioned himself behind her.

            “Yeah?” Ben breathed. His free hand ran down her rear, to her back, pushing her down until she was on her elbows. [Y/n]’s face pressed into a pillow, whimpers of anticipation leaving her lips as she pushed herself back.

           His cock pushed into her elicited a breathy moan, [Y/n]’s legs quivering. She’s thankful for Ben’s hand on her hip, her hands gripping the edge of the pillow below her. She’s laid back on her elbows, her lips parted at the full feeling of Ben’s cock in her wet pussy, the heat in her belly building when she felt the skirt brush against her skin.

           “Fuck,” [Y/n] breathed.

           His pace started slow, Ben reveled in the way her velvet walls clenched around him, sending him into euphoria. [Y/n]’s mewling at how well he fits, the fullness of his cock in her, how deep he reaches.

           Ben’s movements picked up in speed, his hips rolling against [Y/n]’s. Bruising on her skin could feel from his tight hold on her hips, keeping her from falling over. His cock drives in and out of her, the fabric of the skirt brushing against your skin with each and every movement. His lips kiss her back, any remains of the pink gloss smeared over her sweaty skin.

           “Such a pretty girl,” Ben murmured, his hand moving from [Y/n]’s hip, down to her clit. His finger skillfully toying with her nub, her mouth parted open and cries of pleasure, his name on her lips.

           [Y/n]’s cheek pressed into the pillow, her gasps and pleas for him to make her cum elicit a groan from him. He can tell how close she is by the way she’s clenches around him, how breathy her voice gets, her back arched and her skin hot.

           [Y/n] cried out frustration when her walls clenched around nothing. Moments later, she’s on her back with her legs wrapped around Ben’s waist. His hands laid beside her head, her own gripping onto his back; she desperately wished he was shirtless.

           “C’mon, baby,” Ben coaxed.

           His hips rolled, thighs beginning to tremble at how well she takes him. She mewled at how beautiful he looks, fucking her in the skirt and his makeup all done. The knot in her belly on the verge of snapping with the way the skirt brushes against her clit every time he pumps himself in and out of her soaked pussy. Her head’s thrown back, mouth open and silent screams ripping through her body when his hand slithers down, thumb rubbing her sensitive nub in tight circles, the skirt’s fabric tickling her hot skin.

           “Let go, pretty girl. I got you,” Ben grunted.

           White spots cloud her vision, [Y/n] gasped and her body arched off the couch. Body covered in a sheen layer of sweat and the scent of sex wafts through the trailer. Ben’s grunts, his movements sloppy and fast as he chases his high and helps [Y/n] ride out hers.        

           He groaned, his hips stuttering, lips hovered over [Y/n]’s. She’s looking up at him with her eyes hooded, a tired smile on her lips. Ben presses a soft kiss to her, swallowing her gasp when he pulls himself out. The skirt brushes against her sensitive pussy, her body aching deliciously.

           Ben stood on his knees, tucking his hair behind his ear and [Y/n] laughed/ Ben quirked a perfectly filled eyebrow in question, mouth open and ready to question her but never saying it, the trailer filled with furious knocks on the door.

           “Ben! You’ve been due back on set twenty minutes ago!” a muffled voice shouted.

           Ben quickly grabbed his underwear, pulling them on and grabbing his phone before [Y/n] called out to him. He turned, his eyes glued back onto her spent body and the way she’s sitting up on her elbows.

           “Extra pantyhose in the bag on the table,” [Y/n] giggled blissfully.

           Ben grabs the back, running to her and pressing his lips to her red, bitten ones. He’s about to murmur something about seeing you later when the knocks return.

           “Come back in the outfit,” [Y/n] commands.

           “I’m plannin’ onit,” Ben cheekily replied, his lips spread into a grin and sends her a wink before he closed the door behind him.

           She loved that outfit.

tagging some mutuals! : @benshvrdy, @rogersben, @silvver-rose, @nomadsgrogers, @brownhardyho, @mazzelloplots, @rogermeaddows, @1-800-ugly-godess, @queenscoolcat

[propertyofnikkisthighs]

Sure Feels Right Ch. 4

Taglist: @hllywdwhre, @xxkellsvixen19xx

Warnings: Soft smut 👀

2019

It had been a few days since the ‘cuddle puddle’ incident and everything was still very much the same, and yet things were different between Lux and them. Colson would look at her with softer eyes and would sometimes just reach out and touch her lightly while he was talking or doing things and then would retract his hand and go about his business. Rook would lean on her or want his hair played with if they were sitting next to each other and he wanted to spend more time with her, which she thought was impossible considering they were on a tour bus together, but here she sat watching him and Slim battle each other in the newest mortal kombat.

“Rook can I puh-lease borrow Lux now?” Casie pleaded from the entry to the back of the bus. She had joined them last night for a few shows and Lux was grateful because it meant the boys were on their best behavior. “She promised to paint my nails and we all know she truly doesn’t care about watching you guys play this game.”

Lux chuckled at the put out expression on Rook’s face and pat him on the knee. “Here I come Casie.” she said getting off the couch slightly appreciative of Casie intervening. Casie grabbed the small container with different polish in it from Lux’s bunk as they made their way to the small table.

“Okay what color would you like? I have red, dark blue, black, yellow, purple, and green with glitter in it.” Lux presented the different bottles of polish as she named the colors.

“Ooh yellow! Then I can wear the dress I have with the sunflowers on it to the show tonight” Casie bounced with excitement in her seat. In so many ways she was exactly like Colson.

“So are you excited to be out of school for the summer?” Lux asked getting started on the young girl’s nails.

“School isn’t terrible, but I like being able to go on tour with Dad. The tour bus is fun.” Casie smiled and looked at her yellow fingers before blowing on them gently while Lux started on the second hand. “Yellow was a great choice.”

“Well if it isn’t two of my favorite ladies” Colson spoke through a yawn before leaning down to kiss Casie on the top of her head. He walked over and repeated the action to the top of Lux’s head and went to go make coffee as if it were nothing. Lux had briefly stopped her actions and could feel her ears growing red. He had never done that before.

“Dad look Lux is painting my nails to match the dress Aunt Ash bought for me!” Casie seemed to be ignoring the blatant display of affection Colson had bestowed upon Lux. She was beaming with so much happiness Colson felt his heart clench at the sight before him. Lux was so good to his little girl.

“Yeah Lux is almost as cool as your dad” He smirked sipping his coffee.

“Well you should let her paint your nails then too Dad. That would be very cool of you” Casie had Colson’s smirk as if it had been copied and pasted onto her face.

“Is that supposed to be a challenge Casie? I’ve let you paint my nails.” He squeezed in next to her and they both stuck their tongues out at each other. They were so alike in many ways.

“Blow and don’t touch anything until the top coat dries” Lux instructed and grabbed the polish she knew he would want for his nails, black. She was gonna use the yellow for his middle finger so he matched Casie but Casie stopped her.

“Wait!” She carefully pushed the purple towards Lux “For the middle finger since most of the show is black and purple themed for the album colors” Casie was probably a genius. Lux finished both of their nails and applied a clear coat to top it off for the both of them when Rook and Slim came out of the back and Casie instructed that they also needed their nails done to match. So Rook ended up with black nails and Slim ended up with dark blue nails and neither were too excited about that, but nobody was about to tell Casie no. The good part about Lux having to paint everybody’s nails was that the time went by much quicker and it wasn’t long until they were setting up for the show.

The show went without a hitch and Colson pulled Casie on stage for a few songs and she tried to pull Lux, but she was too fast and got away. She preferred the side stage anyway. 

“The show was so kick ass!” Lux yelled practically pouncing on Rook the moment he made his way to her. He picked her up in a hug and spun them both around before he placed her on her feet again. The post show adrenaline could be felt through all of them which meant the boys would probably rough house later if Casie didn’t scold them. Colson tossed Lux over his shoulder and made his way towards the bus before she could comment more on the show.

“Colson! I’m wearing a skirt!” Lux tried to wiggle her skirt back down some, but it was no use, she could feel the breeze.

“Stop wiggling or you’ll make the skirt ride up more.” Colson replied matter of factly and placed his other hand over her butt to block the view. Lux felt her face heat up and was glad Colson couldn’t see her redness from his position. Rook was following behind them with Casie on his back pointing and laughing at Lux. This was embarrassing.

In all honesty, Colson didn’t NEED to block Lux’s ass, there was nobody in front of them that would be able to see anything. He told himself he was doing it to ease her mind, but really he just wanted to be able to touch more of her. Seeing her with Casie was increasing his want to touch her and be touched by her and so, he was covering her ass. Lord help him.

2018

Lux came up for air panting wildly, lipstick smudged, cheeks flushed, and a grin that could split her face in half. The girl in front of her was a mirror for how she looked minus the giant grin. Fuck she loved New Orleans. When Ash said they got to visit Colson while he was filming the Motley Crue movie she hadn’t expected to get to party like this, she should have known better with Colson involved. Colson was playing Tommy Lee (who Lux also got to meet with Nikki Sixx on set and she almost died) and she was positive everyone knew they couldn’t have found a better person to play Tommy. He had dragged her, Rook, Douglas, and Daniel to a strip club, well dragged wasn’t the right word because all of them wanted to go; but he had the idea first. That was how Lux had found herself in the private booth making out with one of the strippers while the boys watched.

“Holy shit” Douglas was the first to break the silence. He was cute with his hair a bit messy from his wig and his eyeliner still on from today’s shoot. It gave Lux butterflies.

“See didn’t I tell you she was amazing?” Colson beamed her way. He was always proud when she did what he had dubbed  “Colson like behavior”.

“I think she’s damn near wife material.” Daniel cooed putting a hand on her shoulder. Colson had told Lux that the director wanted the boys to really get into their roles and Daniel seemed to be practicing his Vince Neil charm on many of the ladies tonight. He and Colson were even wearing matching shirts that were open to show their (incredible) abs. Her mouth was getting dry thinking about it too much so she grabbed the shot Daniel had in his hand and took it with a wink.

“No offence Colson, but I think want to hang out with Lux now. She may be the coolest person here.” Douglas laughed.

“Dougie, I would eat you alive.” Lux smirked at him over her shoulder. If she played her cards right she would get to mark fucking a british guy off of her fuck-it list (bucket list). Perhaps Douglas was feeling bolder from playing Nikki Sixx and he was leaning into his role, or maybe it was all the shots they had done, but something had him wanting to act more impulsively around Lux.

He leaned down inches from her face and whispered “I think if anyone is eating somebody tonight I’d rather it be me to you.”

Lux almost had to clench her legs shut and kept looking between his eyes and his lips before he curled his mouth into what was becoming a signature smirk for him. He leaned away and sipped his drink still smirking while Lux tried to collect her thoughts. She was damn near ready to grab Douglas’ hand and physically drag him to her hotel room. Colson kept flashing his eyes between the two in confusion looking a little miffed, so Lux decided to help improve his night. She excused herself to go to the bathroom and found one of the dancers whom Colson had been making eyes at all night.

“Can you go give a private dance to my friend there in the private booth?” Lux gestured with her head “You can’t miss him he’s the pretty blonde with all the tattoos” She slipped the girl some money after she nodded having seen who Lux was referencing. Lux watched as the dancer approached Colson and pulled him into a different private room for his dance mentally high fiving herself when she saw his excited expression. Now to get Douglas and get him out of here.

Colson had to hand it to Lux, she really fucking knew his type. The dance had been beautiful torture, but he worked enough charm and magic and knew she’d come to his room tonight. She said her shift was about done and she’d meet him near the bathrooms so they could head out the back door. He was gonna look for Lux to tell her thank you when he noticed her and Douglas were gone. He chuckled to himself and shook his head. She was so like him sometimes.

Colson groaned as the girl bobbed her mouth up and down his length. He would have to thank Lux later. He needed to stop thinking about Lux right now. He tangled his hand in the dark hair of the girl on her knees before him and squeezed his eyes shut. She moaned around him in her mouth and he practically died on the spot. If she kept this up he wouldn’t last long. She pushed as much of him as she could fit and worked the rest with her hand. He threw his head back and panted unable to stop a small moan that bubbled in his chest. Fuck he loved New Orleans.

Lux was wincing from the knob of the cabinet being pressed into her back, but she refused to stop Douglas from what he was doing with his fingers. A broken moan escaped her lips before his crashed down onto hers. The kiss was hungry and needy matching everything Lux felt as she bucked her hips up to meet the pace of his fingers. She briefly heard a loud moan in the next room over and almost regret her decision to go back to Doug’s room instead, but her thought on the matter was cut short by Douglas lifting her off the counter and carrying her to the bed. She needed to shut out the thoughts of Colson, even if hearing his headboard hit the wall was a bit painful on her heart. She squeezed her eyes shut and focused on the man removing her shirt to kiss down her body. He kissed her hard again and they scrambled to remove the remaining bits of their clothing. Douglas fixed her with a smug grin and lightly pushed her to down to lay against the mattress as he made his way down her body again. He was stopping to bite and suck on parts of her body and she knew she would resemble a leopard tomorrow. Douglas positioned himself between her legs and nipped at her inner thighs looking up into her eyes.

“Now I believe we discussed the finer points of eating earlier, right?” Douglas smirked and before Lux could respond he had his face between her legs. Her hand found her way into his hair as breathless moans filled the air. Fuck she loved New Orleans.

[coveredsnow]

This is my Halloween exchange gift for @ferromans as part of the @stevetony-halloween-exchange!! Happy Halloween, I hope you enjoy it :D

Tony grinned at the mirror, taping the last bit of yellow paper to the red bucket on his head.

“How do I look, J?”

“I would never know the difference, sir.” The audio crackled with static, and quiet whispers ran in the background – Jarvis had created a program to simultaneously play anything he said backward in Latin.

“I’m gonna wipe the floor with them,” Tony said, holding out one hand with a blue rosette stuck to the palm.

“You never announced that it was a competition, sir.”

“Didn’t I?” he asked, sticking one last piece of Sellotape to his arm. “Damn. Guess I’m gracing them with this masterpiece out of the goodness of my heart, then.”

“That would be the philanthropist in you.” Tony snorted, walking toward the elevator in his moon shoes.

“Not a bad idea, actually – superhero dress-up calendar. Send someone an email.”

“Of course, sir.”

“One more thing. At around 3 AM, could you play Clint a really loud, piercing scream?”

“I will consider it.”

“You’re my fav, J.” Tony grinned as the elevator descended towards the communal floor. This was going to be a great night.

***

Tony gave a low whistle as he walked into the rec room.

“Not a bad turn-out.” Natasha was lying on the couch, her head - and four of the eight papery black legs she had taped to her back – in Clint’s lap. Clint was wearing a bizarre purple mask, and had a toy bow slung across his back. Bruce appeared to have stuffed a green sheet full of cushions, then squeezed into the largest pair of purple cut-offs Tony had ever seen.

“Aren’t you gonna get warm, big guy?”

“If it gets too much, I’m green underneath, too,” Bruce said. “I’m trialing a new sweat-resistant body-paint.”

“Uh, why?” Bruce took on a slightly lost look.

“Um … it seemed important at the time …” Tony smirked. He knew that feeling.

“Where are Thor and Steve?”

“Thor sent a raven,” Clint said, pointing to a large, black bird that Tony had assumed was a decoration. Now it turned to stare at him with piercing golden eyes. “There was some sort of disturbance in Asgard, but he’ll be here soon.”

“Steve went to get some drink,” Natasha chipped in, turning a huge, plastic tarantula over in her hands.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Tony said, fiddling with his phone to get some spooky ambient sounds playing. Moments later, Steve walked in, carrying a huge, steaming jug. Tony snorted – if he wasn’t competitive by nature, he might have given this one to Steve.

“You don’t even have to try. Your actual costume was stupid enough as it is.”

“Lay off, brave men and women designed this costume.”

“Notice how you say ‘costume’, not ‘uniform.’” Steve’s helmet had actual wings on it, and he’d swapped the tights for a chorus-girl skirt. A cardboard shield was strapped to his back. “What’ve you got for me, star-spangled man?”

“A plan,” Steve grinned, putting the jug on the coffee table and getting out glasses. “Get Nat, Clint and Bruce absolutely wasted, then collect blackmail videos.”

“Stronger men than you have tried,” Nat warned, taking a glass from Steve after he’d poured in some of the steaming drink and a healthy dose of bourbon. Steve brought Tony a glass without the liquor.

“How am I meant to kiss you when there’s a bucket on your head?” he murmured.

“The bucket has feelings too, you know,” Tony said, removing it all the same to take a sip of his drink. “Oh my god, Rogers, what did you do?”

“Fall drink,” Steve grinned, shrugging. Moans of happiness came from the couches.

“Steve, what’s your recipe?” Clint called. “I demand your recipe.”

“Fall drink,” Steve responded smugly. There was a bright flash through the window, and a bang from the balcony.

“Thor’s here!” Tony cried as the door slammed open. “In time for the drink, as per frickin usual.”

“I am sorry that I’m late,” Thor said, walking over when Steve pointed to the jug and taking long, sustained gulps. “There were indications that some items of value had been removed from Asgard, but everything seems to be in order.” He let out a sigh of satisfaction, the jug landing on the table with an empty clang. At least he’d gotten into the spirit of dressing up; he was holding a colorful toy hammer, a red curtain was tied around his neck, and he was wearing an awful blond wig over … his long blond hair.

“Couldn’t have tied it up, buddy?” Tony asked, gesturing.

“My hair is not something to be concealed for a party trick,” Thor snorted. His eyes fell on Clint, Natasha and Bruce, who were gazing mournfully into the empty jug. “Oh … my apologies, I forget how little mortals drink-“

“Come into the kitchen, you can help me make the next batch,” Steve said, rolling his eyes.

“Wait!” Tony rapped his knuckles on the side of his bucket-helmet. “A toast.” Everyone raised their glasses. “To Avengers-ween.” Steve laughed.

“Can we not call it that?” Nat said.

“One day before Halloween, when the douchebags go crazy and the kids are on the streets. Everyone’s at home preparing for the big night. A holiday all to ourselves. What else would you call it?”

“A disaster waiting to happen,” Bruce chuckled, and knocked back his glass.

“That’s the spirit,” Tony said. He sipped his drink, and met Steve’s glittering eyes, as murmurs of “Happy Avengers-ween” filled the room.

Read more

[vaderssidechick]

SNIPPET: Dark Angel, Scarlet Dragon, Chapter V

Since this chapter is taking far longer than I anticipated (THANK THE GODS FOR CRIPPLING SELF-DOUBT, HOW WOULD I LIVE MY LIFE WITHOUT YOU), I’m posting a snippet from Chapter V of Dark Angel, Scarlet Dragon. 

Enjoy!

“Imperial Transport Mace, we are seven minutes from orbital target. Status?”

“Roger that, Bridge,” Aero replied. “Running pre-flight now, loading dewies as we speak. Cav, progress?”

Cav’s voice crackled through SCAR’s tac-net, along with the grunts, snorts and occasional squeal of large beasts. “Herding them into the lift now, Bridge. Taking a little longer than usual, pilot-- Nini down, girl, settle down! Kest ‘n Krinnic, they’re jumpy today, that’s for sure.”

“I thought you procured space-trained dewies, Cav,” came the Sergeant’s gruff admonishment.

“I did Sarge, these are veteran pack animals. I dunno what’s gotten into them-- OW! Hutt’s tits, that was my foot, Rara!!”

“Watch the language, trooper. You’re on speaker.”

“Roger, Bridge, sorry.”

Kreel cracked his neck. “Do you require assistance, Cav?”

“Negative, Sergeant. Everything’s under control.”

“Confirmed. Zuke, Mic, Shrap, Misty?”

“All aboard, Sarge,” came Zuke’s gravelly response. “Mic’s tinkering with the com tech, Shrap’s reloading his flamethrower, and if Misty doesn’t get that kriffin’ barrel away from my head in two seconds--”

“Nice and clean, Zuke, you won’t feel a thing.”

“That what you told your sister last night?”

“I’ll kill ya both and call it a mercy killing. Mercy for the rest of us,” Mic groused through the tac-net.

“Cut the chatter SCAR,” Kreel snarled. “Cargo situation?”

“Binders all powered down and locked down, Sarge. Got ‘em strapped in so good a meteor strike couldn’t shake ‘em,” Aero replied.

“Don’t press our luck, Aero,” Kreel said. He shook his head as he absently palmed the pouch hanging from his belt: The dewbacks weren’t the only ones on edge. “Cav, status?”

Kreel heard the lift hydraulics stop with a loud kerchunk and lock into place over the tac-net. “Dewies loaded, Sarge. Your location?”

“Still out in the hangar. Waiting on the Dragon.”

“The Dragon has landed, Sergeant.”

Kreel whipped around, thrusting his armored hand into the pouch before he stopped himself. Baroness Sa’thraxxx stood several paces behind him, her arms folded over her cuirass, her white eyes peering from under her hood of her wrap. He saw those eyes flick down to the hand in his pouch before coming up to pierce into his own.

He slowly pulled his hand out, and straightened to attention. “Sorry, Baroness. I didn’t hear you.” While he meant it as an apology, it came out as incredulous. How the hell did he not hear her footsteps echo through the hangar?

She took a silent few steps toward him and chuckled. “I’m much quieter than Lord Vader.”

No denying that. Vader made his presence known just from his respirator and the vibrations of his footfalls alone, moments before he actually arrived. “Stealth,” he said. He smirked under his bucket. “You have a natural gift for it, Baroness. It will serve you well down there.”

“Thank you, Sergeant,” she replied with a nod. “Status?”

“About six minutes before we disembark hyperspace. Cargo and dewbacks loaded, Aero’s running pre-flights.”

“Good. That gives us a few moments to talk. Walk with me.” Lylla turned on her heel and strolled to her left. Kreel flanked her right. “Sergeant,” she began, watching her own feet take slow steps, ”Have you never wondered why Lord Vader gave this mission to me, rather than lead SCAR Squadron himself?”

“It is not my place to question Lord Vader’s decisions, Baroness,” Kreel replied.

She shot a smirk over her shoulder at him. “Pondering your commander's motives is not the same as insubordination, Sergeant.”

“It is to Lord Vader.”

She chuckled again. “You may be right about that.” She stopped, still looking down. “But he could have accomplished this mission easily, and in far less time. So…why give this to me, someone with no field experience, someone who hasn’t even held a blaster in her entire life?” She looked off in the distance, and her voice grew softer. “Be honest with your opinion. I’d rather you were.”

Kreel paused, weighing his words carefully. But the Baroness did insist on honesty… “Yes Baroness, I have wondered why Lord Vader would send his fiancee on such a dangerous mission. But… I don’t believe he would have tasked you with this if he didn’t believe you would succeed. I think he may be testing you, like troops are tested through war games.”

“Oh, I know he’s testing me, Sergeant. Just because I sleep with him doesn’t mean I am exempt from his trials.” She chuckled again when he let out an uncomfortable grunt, as such bluntness about their sex life unsettled him. “But I’ve come realize it is more than that. It’s not just to test me, he wants to know once and for all…” that look in her eyes turned into a thousand-parsec stare, “what it is I actually am.” She pulled a breath. “And what I can actually do.”

Kreel looked back at her and cocked his head. “What you actually are? I don't follow you, Baroness.”

Lylla reached up to her hood. “I don't know if you are aware,” she peeled the cowl back and tilted her chin up to give Kreel a better view, “that I didn't always look like this.” Her lip quirked up. “I used to look...more human.”

True, the Baroness didn’t look like any human he had ever encountered before, with her white eyes and her unusually colored hair, but after weeks of working with her, he had gotten used to the differences. But it was her hair now that made him take a step back. Her hair, which she had just shorn completely off her scalp just hours ago, had grown to halo her head in loose scarlet curls.

Lylla ran her gloved fingers through it. “You noticed.”

“It… grows that fast?” he breathed through his vocoder. “All the time?”

“All the time. I have to cut it at least once a day, sometimes twice.” She caught his eyes once again with hers, and she grinned. “You thought I wore wigs, didn’t you?”

“I...well, I…” His armored shoulders slumped somewhat. “I’m a soldier, ma’am. I don’t think about...women’s stuff much, but...yeah, I did.”

Lylla slyly smiled. “Lord Vader was the first Force-user I had ever…” She chose an appropriate word, “encountered. Afterward, my appearance changed and I… did as well.”

He raised his helmet back up. “What is it you’re telling me, Baroness?”

Lylla stepped toward him and, for a moment, all he could register were those white diamond-hard eyes. “I cannot do the things Lord Vader can, Kreel. I can’t fight like he can, or move objects or read thoughts. But… I am connected to him and to the Force nonetheless. I don’t know exactly how I am, nor does he. That’s why he sent me on this mission. To find out how I am.” She put her hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know what will happen down on that planet. But I do know that things may happen that I won’t be able to fully explain. And because of that,” she drew closer to him, “I need you to trust that I will get what we came for and that I will get you and your men out of this ALIVE, like Lord Vader could. Can you do that?” Her eyes narrowed into white points under her black lashes, and her voice was a steely rasp. “Because if you have any doubt, tell me now. And I’ll go down there alone and finish this mission myself.”

The Sergeant remained quiet. Lylla once again felt the frustration of being stared at through a mask, unable to read the face. Until Kreel said, “With all due respect, Baroness… the hell you will.”

Once more, Lylla raised a perfect eyebrow. “Have you forgotten to whom you speak, Sergeant?”

“No ma’am, I know exactly who I’m speaking to. My next Empress.” He took a risky step into her space and added, “And I’ll be damned to the nine hells if I let anything happen to her on my watch.” It was Lylla’s turn to step back, startled by the ferocity in Kreel’s voice. But then, the growl was replaced by a chuckle. “I get now why he chose you. You’re as fearless as he is.”

A breath rushed out of her chest. “Then you trust me?”

He nodded. “I worked undercover in Grakka the Hutt’s operation on Nar Shaddaa. He was a collector of Jedi artifacts.” Lylla watched his hand drift toward the pouch on his belt again, and wondered if he had one those on him right now. “And I’ve worked under Lord Vader for the better part of a decade. I won’t pretend to understand the Force. But I do know that every mission I have done with Lord Vader, every one of us came back alive. Battered, sometimes wounded, but alive. I’ve seen what he can do, the power he holds. If he trusted you enough to lead this mission and if you can tap into that power too… then yes, Baroness. I can trust you.”

“I’m not exactly like Lord Vader, Sergeant.” Her eyes drifted to the side, and Kreel noticed the thousand-parsec look once again. “I am… different.”

Kreel shrugged. “Then maybe you do different things than he does. Now you just got me curious.” Lylla slid her eyes back to him, and arched an eyebrow. He realized he had become far too comfortable with his immediate commander-- and the betrothed of his Supreme Commander at that-- and straightened to attention. “Whatever your orders are Baroness, SCAR will stand behind you all the way.”

“Including Shrap?” she asked, brow still elegantly hiked. “I believe he has all but confirmed his mistrust of the Force.”

“Shrap will get in kriffin’ line, or there’ll be hell to pay.”

“Yes,” Lylla growled, “there bloody well will be.”

[bellabooks]

“Pretty Little Liars” recap S7 Ep20: Til death do us part

Pretty Little Readers, this is it. The last PLL recap I will ever write…until the inevitable reboot in 2032 that follows the adventures of teenage twins Lily and Grace DiLaurentis-Fields. But I’m getting ahead of myself. This was a two-hour finale with buckets of exposition, so let’s dive on in! I’m glad this show finally upped their budget and gave Jenna a pony   We open on a deserted Rosewood street, where the Liars are all drinking coffee and bemoaning the drama-less state of their lives. It’s swelteringly hot, but all anyone can talk about is how boring everything is without any mysteries to solve. Oh, and Lucas tap dances by in a white tuxedo. And Jenna rides by in a decorated horse like she’s a circus performer. And then it starts snowing.  Is that snow? NO IT’S COCAINE!!!   The Liars look to the heavens, and the camera zooms out to reveal they were inside a snow globe, which was no joke my fantasy ending for this show. But who is holding the snow globe? Mona Vanderwaal, queen of the heavens, runner of the games, genius among geniuses. She’s locked up in Welby with only her snow globe, which she drops to the floor when she’s confronted by a black hoodie. She asks them if they are there to kill her, and she smiles that Mona smile. Then the opening credits run for the last time, and all the Liars do the “sshhhh” together. TOGETHER!  For real though guys, who is in this coffin?   We then cut to ONE YEAR LATER, and check in on the gang. Ezria is on the Warner Bros. lot (which is incidentally where they shoot the show- so meta!) because their book is being turned into a movie. They are also getting married in a week. Spencer is rescuing horses with Melissa and bonding with her, and Toby returns to town after a long Eat, Pray, Shave tour of the world. Spencer is rehabbing a cute pony named Bashful, who is skittish around everyone but her. Don’t worry, this will come back later in a big bad way. Emily and Ali are juggling twins, Lily and Grace. Also, Ali has the worst bangs and it’s so distracting I had to rewind this scene twice just to focus. Ali meets up with Pam Fields at the Radley, and they have a secret conversation about taking care of/loving Emily. Ali continues teaching English at Rosewood High, where she discusses literary endings (wink wink) with her class. She’s still teaching mini-bitch Addison, who disrupts the class and calls Ali a lesbo. Ali is in no mood, and grabs Addison after class. Addison isn’t scared of her, but she IS scared of Jenna Marshall, who is now a life skills teacher at Rosewood. What life skills is Jenna imparting to these children?! How to seduce men and women alike into doing your bidding? Firecracker dodging? I have so many questions, the first of which is, where do I sign up? Addison tries to sass Jenna by waving her hands in front of her blind face, but Jenna grabs her by the wrist like she’s Dare Devil and tells her that she while she can’t see, she can smell a bitch from a mile away. In a world where teachers can sleep with and marry their students without censure, I guess calling someone a bitch is small potatoes.  BITCH CAN SMELL   Meanwhile, things aren’t sunshine and lollipops with Hanna and Caleb. Mona is being discharged from Welby, and Hanna invited her to stay at the loft without running it by her husband. Caleb is upset that the woman who tried to push his wife out of a bell tower is now their new roommate, but Hanna knows that while husbands come and go, ride or die BFFs are forever. On cue, Mona shows up at their door and Hanna welcomes her. Mona seems fragile and forgetful, and tells them that with her new meds, she isn’t as sharp as she used to be. If this series ends with a neutered and sad Mona I will never forgive Marlene. Why is the wifi password Hanily?!   The Liars and friends meet up at the newly renovated Lost Woods resort, which Spencer and Ali are re-launching. Everyone’s gathered for a surprise bachelor/bachelorette dinner for Aria and Ezra. There is wine and laughter and memories, and everyone is having a good time…except for Haleb, who can’t stop squabbling. Spying on them from the bushes is a black hoodie, who turns around to reveal MELISSA HASTINGS…or is it? Everyone is enjoying drinks by the fire pit, when Emily remembers that this is their first night without the babies and drags Ali to their room for some sexing. Then everyone else pairs off to hook up, except for Toby and Spencer who decide to play scrabble like a couple of nerds. We find out that Spencer is going to law school, working at her mom’s firm, and rebuilding her relationship with her family. Isn’t it nuts that we’re 25 and have two kids?!  Tell it to my bangs: they’re already 45.   While everyone else gets a lengthy sex scene, complete with saxophone music, Emily and Ali press their cheeks together and touch legs because that is how lesbians have sex on Freeform. At least, they are trying to…Ali is feeling all sentimental while Emily is trying to get it on. I feel like this would be a totally adequate sex scene by itself, but pairing it with Ezria’s lengthy romp only highlights the double standard when it comes to queer sex scenes.  Nothing says sex scene like closed mouth kissing!   Despite this disparate treatment, let’s all take a step back and marvel that this series is ending with a happy queer couple, where no one is dead or heartbroken. It’s 2017, but there is still something delightfully revolutionary about the awkward gay jock winning the heart of the most popular girl in school and living happily ever after. It’s kind of lovely until you remember what they did with Maya and Shana and Charlotte. In a less romantic sex scene across town, Hanna and Caleb are still fighting while Hanna sits with her legs up, trying to conceive. Yup, these two dummies are trying to have a baby. And in sadder fertility news, Aria gets a phone call from her doctor and finds out that she can’t have children. Why is everyone so baby crazy on this show?! Y’all are 25, settle down. Aria wants to call off the wedding, but the Liars convince her that Ezra won’t care. She tries to keep it a secret, but ends up telling him the next day, and he responds as he should: that it doesn’t matter, and there’s more than one way to make a family. Melissa watches the Liars comforting Aria from the bushes, and removes her mask to reveal MONA underneath. Dun Dun Dun! I would love it if A.D. turns out to be a Russian nesting doll of masks leading to an empty hoodie. Mona Facetimes with A.D. and demands to know who they are. You know what would really take this party up a notch? Jenna Marshall on a damn horse!   The next night is Aria’s rehearsal dinner, and Hanna brings along Mona, which is rude as hell. You don’t just bring your crazy hyperadrenalized murderer BFF without RSVPing for her first! No one is more shocked than Ashley Marin, who separates from the Wine Moms to give Hanna a talking to about co-dependency and toxic friendships. The Wine Moms keep talking about that time they got locked in a basement, yet another spin-off show that we’ll never get from Marlene.  A toast to the best parent on this show: Chardonnay!   Emily sees Alison sneaking around with Pam and assumes that Ali is hiding something from her. She gives Ali the third degree until she reveals that Pam gave her the family engagement ring—she was planning to propose to Emily somewhere romantic, but instead she’s doing it right this second in her pug dog sweater. Ali thanks Emily for loving her unconditionally, even when she was a zombie bitch who communicated through stolen birds and old witches. Even when she was flying a plane in a Vivian Darkbloom wig. Emily says yes, and they kiss.  If you can love me through these bangs, you can love me no matter what   Meanwhile, Spencer goes back to Toby and they have a lengthy sex scene of their very own. Spencer steps out of the shower and finds Mona in a black hoodie in her room. Mona says “Déjà vu bitch!” and knocks her unconscious. Spencer wakes up in a prison cell, disoriented. She looks in the mirror and checks herself out, until the mirror Spencer starts moving on her own. Holy crap, Twincer is real! And British! Kudos to everyone who predicted this twist, I honestly thought it was going to be someone else. This British twin is Alex Drake, aka A.D. and she’s busted Mary Drake out of jail for a family reunion. Put some pants on, we need to talk about Spencer’s accent: it’s not just British. It’s Eliza Doolittle meets Burt the Chimney Sweep meets Mrs. Lovett from Sweeney Todd. It’s SO over the top and terrible and delightful. Just like this British evil twin conceit: soapy and ridiculous and I am so on board with this nonsense. ‘Ello Guvnah! I’m your twin I is!   In a series of flashbacks, we get the sordid tale of Alex Drake: When Mary was in labor at Radley (in the 1940’s) she gave birth to Spencer, who was quickly whisked away by the Hastings family. So quickly in fact, that no one stuck around for Spencer’s twin sister Alex to be born. To buy her way out of Radley, Mary sells Alex to a fancy British family who raise her across the pond…until they realize that she is the baddest of bad seeds and dump her at an orphanage for evil geniuses. Flash forward, and teenage Alex is pulling pints in a bar where she runs into Wren. Wren can’t believe he’s found a British Spencer, and tells Alex of her true parentage. They fall in love (eww) and Wren arranges a meeting for Alex and Charlotte. Once the half sisters meet, they become thick as thieves, each finding the family they were searching so long for. Charlotte falls in love with Archer, and they proceed to double date their way around Europe. It’s like The Parent Trap, but with more wigs, murder, and asylum stays.  This is my Sarah Manning cosplay…fancy a shag?   But Charlotte can’t handle being away from the game, so she goes back to Rosewood to play with her dolls, where Mona murders her in the bell tower. Consumed by revenge, Alex sets out for Rosewood and picks up the game where Charlotte left off. In her quest to find out who murdered Charlotte, she gets a glimpse into the charmed life of Spencer Hastings, and wonders what could have been if she had that life. You know, that idyllic suburban experience where your father bangs every mom in town, you’re related to all your friends, and you spend your entire adolescence being terrorized by a maniac in athleisure wear. Ah, the stuff that dreams are made of! Alex starts cosplaying as Spencer and pops up in a series of flashbacks: Alex was the one who held Hanna when she was locked in that barn. Alex asked Toby for the goodbye kiss. Alex also banged Toby and fell for him. Soon enough, she decides she wants to be Spencer full-time, so she’s locked Spencer in her new dollhouse and takes over her life. She’s so into mirroring Spencer that she makes Wren shoot her in the shoulder so she has the same scar. She also uses Wren’s sperm to father Emily and Ali’s babies, before killing him and turning him into a diamond necklace. Which she wears around her neck. EVERYWHERE SHE GOES. I mean, it’s no bracelet made of teeth, but it’s still pretty bonkers.   Does this seem like a lot of exposition? Because it’s an insane amount of exposition. Alex isn’t revealed until at least halfway through this 2-hour finale, and she hits the ground running, checking off every unsolved mystery this show ever made up. Bitch can summarize! Alex heads off to Aria’s wedding, where no one notices anything different about her. Aria comes out in her bridal gown, and it is some wacky vintage nonsense that only Aria could cook up. Frankly, I’m surprised it was missing her signature leopard print pattern. It’s the last ever Emily Fields cleavage appreciation post!   Meanwhile, Mary tries to comfort Spencer by making her Peruvian chicken and assuring her that living life in a jail can be fun. Spencer begs Mary to release her, and Mary gives her a hug. Instead of bum rushing her birth mom out the door, Spencer cries in her arms. Once Mary locks the door, we see that Spencer has taken a bobby pin out of her hair. Someone is about to Nancy Drew her way out of this underground prison! Back at Wedding Central, Ezra still hasn’t shown up. Aria is crying Byron is threatening to beat up Ezra, and everyone is confused. Did Ezra have a crisis of conscience and decide not to marry the girl he seduced at 15? Of course not! Alex abducted him and threw him in a jail cell next to Spencer. Does Ezra help Spencer escape? Nope, he just mansplains lock picking to her with a pissy attitude. Back at Radley, the Liars are all sharing a room and consoling Aria. Alex climbs into bed and strokes Aria’s hair, telling her that they’ll be the closest of all. How did she find out about Team Sparia all the way in England?!  Team Sparia for Life   The next day, Alex meets Toby at the stables, where the horse starts freaking out because he knows she’s not Spencer. That, or she’s a vampire. Toby starts putting the pieces together. Later, Jenna meets with Alex and can tell just by smelling her that she’s not Spencer. Finally, Toby takes the book of French love poems Alex gave him, and realizes that it can’t be Spencer’s book because there aren’t any notes in the margins. Toby brings this information to the Liars, and everyone is like, “evil twin? Yup, sounds about right” and they go off in search of the real Spencer.  YOU’RE NOT MY MOM!   Back at the bunker, Spencer picks the lock and frees herself and Ezra. They try to escape from the bunker and run outside of the house…only to realize that they aren’t outside at all. The ceiling is painted to look like the sky, and there is fake grass and everything, but it’s just a dollhouse within a dollhouse. Mona confronts the Liars and tells them that Wren tried to kill her in Welby, but she convinced him she could help bust Mary out of prison. Mona has also tracked Spencer’s coordinates to Toby’s house, because she is in this damn game to win it.  Here I am, explaining this game to you dum-dums one last time!   The Liars bust their way into the bunker, where they stumble onto the classic twin face-off: Spencer and Alex wrestling, and trying to convince the Liars that they’re each the real Spencer Hastings. Oh, and Ezra hits his head on a rock. Toby grabs one of the twins and demands to know what their favorite poem is from the book, and the real Spencer (in classic Spencer fashion) starts reciting it in perfect French. The cops rush in and arrest Alex and Mary, and Spencer is reunited with her friends.  I’m the right real Spencer, you barmy old chaps!   The Ezria wedding gets a do-over, and everything goes smoothly, even Marlene King’s cameo as a photographer who didn’t turn off her cell phone. The Liars walk around the only square in Rosewood, and talk about how much they’ll miss Aria while she’s on her honeymoon. Spencer is back together with Toby, and Hanna reveals that she’s pregnant. They all hug and it’s very sweet.  So long Rosewood…you’re the 6th bitch at this table!   But what of Miss Vanderwaal? We find Mona living in Paris, selling antique dolls and making out with a beefy French dude. She steps into her backroom, where she has dollhouse decorated with two brunette dolls. The camera pulls back and we see Mary and Alex Drake imprisoned in a dollhouse of their very own. Looks like Mona won the game after all.  Praise be to VanderJesus, for ever and ever, amen.   Then the final scene is a rehash of the pilot opening, with Addison’s mean girls at a sleepover (with Maya’s cousin) waking up to find their queen bee missing. Nice try show, but I’m not spending another seven years with this hot nonsense. And that’s it: seven seasons of masks, wigs, doll parts, Grunwalds, and interchangeable white guys. Seven seasons of Shay Mitchell’s shiny pony-like hair and two facial expressions. Seven seasons of that same damn yellow top that Ali wore on the night she died a thousand times. I started this show the way most of us did, by reading Heather Hogan’s recaps and laughing along with the #BooRadleyVanCullen crew. I didn’t know then that I would go on to write recaps for Autostraddle and AfterEllen, nor did I know that AfterEllen would meet a cruel and untimely end. I didn’t know that I would meet my very own Twincer, Dana Piccoli, who would bring me here to the Bella Books blog to complete this ridiculous journey. To everyone who edited my work, gave me encouragement, and provided me with screengrabs (shout out to @PLLBigA) I want to say thank you. Bitch can appreciate! At its best, Pretty Little Liars was campy frothy fun with some serious heart. It gave the queers of the world Emily Fields and Paige McCullers and Alison DiLaurentis. It also gave us Ravenswood, Ezria, and oh so problematic treatment of Charlotte. Most importantly, it gave us an online community, a world of inside jokes and memes that bonded us nerdy, pop culture obsessed queer folks together. Visibility still matters, now more than ever. I will miss recapping this show, but more than that, I will miss the weekly check-in on Twitter, and laughing my face off at all your hilarious comments. I’m taking a break from recapping to work on my own writing, film my web series, learn how to fly a plane, assume an alias, speak to birds, and life-jack my twin. But just like Alison DiLaurentis, I’ll be back. I hope you’ve enjoyed these recaps over the past couple of years: I’ve enjoyed writing them and getting to know all you beautiful weirdos. Ending these recaps is a real mannequin leg to the heart. What else is there to say but…XOXO bitches! http://dlvr.it/PRGG7Q

[scottyunfamous]

My First (and Last) Fitness Rave

Whaddup fancy face!

Let me start by saying how awesome it is to know that you’re all as awkward as me! I thought my last post was going to make me look strange(er than usual), but then everyone was like ‘Omg bitch, same!’, so now I feel less weird about finding hiding places to work out in, in the gym lol. I have a holiday off of work this week and will be attempting the weights room…and all of its horrors *cough* men *cough*.

Two weeks ago my betch, Delia-Rene (Vexy, for my SDTV heads), hit me up to go to a fitness rave. Yes heaux, a whole rave for fitness! She’s embarked on her own fitness journey and previously attended DJ Melody Kane’s, ‘No Kane, No Gain’. After watching it back on her Snapchat I thought, ‘Rah, that’s actually a dope idea’, so when she presented ‘The Night Shift’ to me I was totally up for it…plus early bird tickets were £5, and heaux, until we upgrade from this pre-rich bank account, frugal is life.

The Night Shift’s tagline was, ‘Don’t get drunk, get pumped!’ If you’ve been following me for a while, you’ll know that getting drunk is one of my favourite pastimes…(as is getting pumped…*wink*), so it didn’t light a fire under me right away. Honestly, I kept wondering how much more fun it would be to work out whilst drunk. I tried working out whilst high once, but a side effect of weed is cotton mouth. I was too thirsty to continue so I ended up eating snacks and watching the rest of my Zumba DVD from the comfort of the sofa. T’was a productive day.

Back to the fitness rave.

If you follow me on Snapchat, you already know I go to the gym looking ruff and tuff like carpet fluff (though since the hot new guy has started working in my gym I’ve made an effort to do my hair, and by do my hair I mean secure my wig) but this was a RAVE, which (in Scotty-land) means that extraness was allowed, so I swapped my mash up house clothes for some mesh panel leggings, a fitted top, boxer braids and my regular dick appointment makeup (5 minute makeup for when you wanna make an effort for bae, but not really).

The event was held in the Camden Centre. There was stage with a DJ playing some big tunes, two male trainers and a room full of women of all shapes, sizes and ethnicities, patiently waiting for the inevitable torture to begin, underneath a domed ceiling with a chandelier/disco ball thing and colourful strobe lights.

The smoke machine billowed cooling smoke across the stage, and all I could think was…what about us? Bitch, it was HOT! There wasn’t a lick of air conditioning in there, just two dibby-dibby windows opened wide enough to do ABSOLUTELY NOTHING FOR ANYBODY, a fan near the front that might as well have been switched off because made no fucking difference, and a bag of bitches with body heat. But I was excited same way, fancy faces. I couldn’t wait to lose this weight in my very first fitness rave.

After doing our obligatory snapping so that Snapchat could see how extra healthy (and generally extra we are), the class began. We placed ourselves towards the back -in the middle so that we’d be less noticeable in the sea of bodies when we skipped the exercises we didn’t want to do, and to make escape easier. These were regular occurrences.

We began with boxercise to soca music. I’m a soca head so I was HERE for it. It’s hard to get tired or fed up when soca music is on (not that it stopped the tiredness altogether, but it helped).  It was like carnival…but not anywhere near as fun. Fun is easily annihilated when you start asking people to do burpees…or any kind of floor work, and bitch, there was floor work galore! Now, I can’t really complain because more time when they asked us to do shit we wasn’t finna do, it either meant that it was time for a fake water break, an option #2 (which is a nice way of saying ‘it looks like that hard ass move you want me to do is working these particular muscles, so I’mma find a lazy ass way to work them without doing what the fuck you told me to do’), or straight up giving each other the ‘seasoned friendship look’ (you know the look, the one that is like you saying 'bitchhhh' without saying it) and not doing it.

At the start, when we didn’t want to do something at all, there were half-assed attempts to make it look like we were trying, just so the trainers wouldn’t notice that much. An example of said attempt was being instructed to do press ups, but instead of actually moving, you just lie on the ground with your hands in position and wait for everyone else to finish so you can reserve the energy you don’t have for the next move.

Stop judging me.

In my defence, for every exercise I did not attempt, I made up for it but dancing inappropriately to the music because carnival is coming and I need to start flexin my ultimate inner heaux. I’m making this sound really bad, like we went there and didn’t do shit lol. We did, I promise lol. By the end of it we were sweating and tired as fuck.

There was a half an hour break before the next section (body conditioning to trap and grime music) began. I’m generally not a huge fan of this kind of music, but even I can admit that it’s actually decent to work out to. It’s mad hype, so in turn, you also get hype. Everything was going well, and by well I mean that there was even more fucking floor work, which I was damn tired of by that point and stopped even trying to make it look like I was attempting it. You know them ones where the trainer walks by and you’re so over it that when they yell out ‘Keep going’ in a general direction (but you know it’s meant for you), you just look them in the face like ‘fight me’?

Two-twos (I’m showing my age…also, why was this ever slang?), one of the girls that was lying on the floor with me while everyone else did push ups earlier, decided to up her viva and attempt the excessive floor work. Next thing you know, the bitch is screaming down the building, laying on the round with a bunch of people around her coz she done fucked around and fucked up her knee. Things were swiftly put on pause as the ambulance was called.

At that point I wondered what any normal person would in that situation… “Does this mean we can go home now?”

Stop judging me.

Bitch, don’t nobody need to work out for 3 mu’uh fuckin’ hours. It is too much. Plus, I was starving. Some (just me, by myself) may even say that I was wasting away to practically nothing!

Naturally, I tried to get Delia’s determined ass to agree to leave, but she was like, “I spent £5 for this shit, bitch. We are staying.” Inside I died a thousand hangry (hungry/angry) deaths, but a part of me was proud and inspired that she was willing to push through and challenge (kill) herself (us), that tenacious slut bucket.

Shit like this is why having a support system on your weight loss  journey is very helpful, because when you wanna give up, there’s always someone nuff enough to force you to keep going.

I’ll admit, her can-do attitude rubbed off on me as the night (regrettably) continued. We were instructed to stand away from the injured girl still lying on the floor (much care, so sensitive), and they moved onto the 90s R&B section to do abs. As we kicked our legs up in the air and squatted down low, I yelled at my friend, with absolutely no shame ‘DO IT FOR THE DICK, BITCH!’ Sometimes you just need to think of how much better in bed exercise will make you. I know this sounds like a joke, but it’s not –penis is part of my motivation, heaux! I’m tryna do some skinny bitch ‘pick me up and fuck me mid-air without your legs shaking’ kinda shit.

I’m struggling in these skreetz so my legs can go all the way back without my stomach doubling up and pressing the air out of my lungs. I’m putting in work with this squat life so I can do 30-day squat challenge on the dick for more than three (two) minutes (seconds) before reverting to that grinding shit we like doing so much.

All in all, it was fine but literally the whole night just felt like the same moves done over and over again to different music. We definitely got a workout but I feel like the next time they do it they should get a female trainer as well. I’ve noticed that male and female trainers train you slightly differently. Men are more focused on strengthening/sculpting whereas women will mix it up with a bit more cardio.

I think part of my disappointment with the event was that I hoped for a different atmosphere, something more light-hearted and fun since it was meant to be a fitness RAVE. I pictured lots of whooping, cheering and upbeat encouragement like I experience in my Zumba class. This felt quite serious. The fun for me only really came at the end when we the DJ flung on Candy by Cameo and sped it up.

I wish that they’d provided yoga mats or at least informed us to bring our own because the floor we were doing all of that godforsaken floor work on was polished and hard as shit to stay stable on. I get very sweaty palms when I get hot, so doing press ups and all that was a myth because I kept slipping and sliding. Also, on the flyer we were promised fresh food and smoothies…we got neither. Instead they were charging £1 for a bottle of water that you could buy for 55p from the corner shop.

Also, this has nothing to do with exercise; more a marketing opportunity missed out on in the name of seriousness, but the instructors were tall, well-formed black men in a room full of women…why did no one take their shirt off, plis?

I think that if I did ever decide to do one of these again, it would probably be aerobics or something. I can do Serious Sally in the gym. If I go to fitness rave, I want fun. I know some of you are probably like, 'Heaux, that’s not the point of it,' and you’d be right, fun is not the point, but bitch, when you are not a gym bunny/fitness freak, fun helps.

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Fancy something a little more daring? Read chapters 1-5 of my sexy, award-winning urban romance, Running Wilde (new chapter posted every Friday)

Until next time, fancy face

Love Scotty x