#stares at simon and eric

[basketobread]

lunara moment

[claire-starsword]

Shining Soul 2 - Prologue and Character Bios translation

While to my knowledge the game’s story is the same for all the characters, they all actually have their own backstory behind the scenes, and it’s a shame that nothing gets brought up, especially since one of them seems linked to the main antagonist, if we can even call Gillespie that.

All the info here is taken from the official guide book, which is sadly kinda poor, and from the old official website. Everyone say thank you Internet Archive real quick, because while I’ve seen a backup from sega around it already had broken pages.

Prologue [this one is the same in both the book and the website]

The time when the warriors of light defeated the forces of darkness is now in the very distant past.

The world was at peace.

However, an incident slowly inched closer.

Sometimes the sun's light would be blocked by thick clouds, while at others there'd be continuous drought, and water supplies would dry out, making the people suffer.

Finally, monsters began to appear, and the world fell in despair...

King Marcel of the Klantol Kingdom felt how dire the situation was and, besides building a fortress and strengthening the country's defenses, declared open a fighting tournament in the Colosseum, in order to find heroes powerful enough to exterminate the monsters.

"...Heroes who have inherited the light, you’ll save this world covered in darkness!"

Characters

Warrior Alex [Eric in the english version]

Guide book:

A descendant of the Legendary Warrior always aiming to be strongest

A descendant of the warrior that defeated Dark Dragon long ago. While traveling throughout the world as he practiced his sword skills, he decided to take part in the fighting tournament.

Website:

Alex descends from the warrior who defeated Dark Dragon in the distant past, although he doesn't know that.

He's still growing up and thus has a huge appetite. A mischievous boy going through puberty. He wants to travel the whole world as a warrior one day.

A specialist in close combat - His balance of offense and defense is exceptionally good

A warrior who uses strong melee weapons. He balances that well with great defensive equipment and is thus an easy to use character.

___

Magician Pamela [Premiera in the english version]

Guide book:

A heroine of legendary blood hiding magical power behind that beauty

A descendant of the magician who fought Dark Dragon. Contrary to what you might assume from her looks, she's a hard worker who doesn't hold back in her efforts. Sensing the incident in the island, she took part in the fighting tournament.

Website:

A girl a little (two or three years) older than Alex.

While her magic skills are still getting there, she's descendant of a legendary magician. She aims to become the greatest magician in the kingdom, and trains day and night with no skipping.

A specialist in offensive magic who can use a variety of spells

She can attack enemies from a distance with many types of magic. Of course, since she has no physical strength, her physical attacks and defensive equipment are not very great.

Archer Rwinn

Guide book:

A kind forest guardian of flawless skill with the bow

One hailing from the elven race that lives traveling throughout the forests of the whole world. After a certain event he became good friends with the family that runs the item shop. Feeling the unusual incident impacting the forest's creatures, he came to the fighting tournament.

Website:

It is unknown if he's a descendant of the archer who defeated Dark Dragon.

In the past years, he noticed that the forest has been restless and unusual incidents have been happening to the creatures there, and thus felt that the balance between light and darkness was crumbling.

Skilled in long distance attacks with bows and throwing spears

He is skilled at long distance attacks but, in counterpoint to that, is exceptionally bad at close combat. He can also attack borrowing the strength of the animals that live in the forest.

Dragon Warrior Tyroth

Guide book:

Number one in destructive power! A brave beast warrior

A young dragonewt of strong body and mind. Has a troublesome but inseparable relationship with the drunkards of the tavern. Sensing the incident in the island, he decided to take part in the tournament.

Website:

Originally, the dragonewt race used to live in regions of the continent with lava, but as this peaceful era went on, plenty of young dragonewts began wanting to know more of society and be active throughout the world. Tyroth is one of these young people.

This heavy soldier has plenty of openings but his attack power is number one

Using heavy weapons like axes and flails, he deals strong blows to his opponents. Naturally, his weak spots are the time he takes to attack and his slow movement.

Priest Prim

Guide book:

A novice priestess who wields the light and banishes evil

She's a girl of the race known as cantaul, and both her parents are priests of light famous throughout the world. Having a sharp sixth sense, she felt evil energies and came to the island.

Website:

A girl of the cantaul race, which is few in numbers nowadays.

She descends from preachers of the light doctrine skilled in light magic.

Her skills as a priest are still developing, but she has excellent control of her spiritual aspect, and her sixth sense is far better than that of a human.

She saves the party with healing and support magic

Despite being able to equip flails, her attacking capability is still shaky. However, her real strength is in helping the party with skills like healing and support magic

Brawler Zachs

Guide book:

A solitary grappler who shreds his enemies with swift attacks

A wolfling man skilled at hand-to-hand combat. He usually never misses a day of his training. And in order to put his skills in service of the people, he joined the tournament.

Website:

The wolfling Zachs was an orphan.

In his youth, Zachs learned a special form of hand-to-hand combat from someone, and was then raised by a martial artist who had mastered the spiritual power of sensing the flow of ki.

He has no defense but attack and speed are outstanding

With superior speed and high attack he can defeat monsters in an instant. However, in order to preserve that speed, he has limitations on what he can equip, so his defense is a bit worrisome.

Dark Wizard Bradster [Armand in the english version]

Guide book:

A mixed race of human and vampire blood who bends dark magic to his will

A half human half vampire man skilled at dark magic. Due to his mixed blood, he's weak to light. He came to the tournament looking for his missing twin brother.

Website:

Bradster was born from a human and a vampire. His magic is tied to the darkness. He is very skilled in this dark magic.

He has a twin brother, and seems to be following after his last whereabouts.

A half human half vampire skilled in magic

A character skilled at magic that uses the powers of darkness to transform into monsters, spew poison and so on. He can also fight summoning special swords.

Ninja Raizen

Guide book:

An assassin swift as the wind, from the land of the rising sun

He uses the arts known as "ninjutsu" from a small island country to the far east. Following the duty written in the Prophetic Scrolls passed down by his ancestors, he joined the tournament.

Website:

Raizen was born and raised in a small country to the far east.

He belongs to a class known as ninja who utilize arts called ninjutsu.

Right from the moment of his birth he has undergone harsh training away from people's eyes, and his arts are on a level any magician can respect and admire.

He makes full use of swift attacks and special arts

He makes a fool of the enemies with fast attacks and ninjutsu tricks. He is also notable for having the fastest movement among all characters.

___

Notes:

I talked about it only in the tags but it might be worth noting it here, the conflict against Dark Dragon mentioned here is that of the first Shining Soul game, not Shining Force. Shining Soul does attempt to have some connections to the classic games but those are shaky at best.

As I mentioned in the beginning, the dark wizard’s missing twin is Gillespie, the game’s main antagonist which has basically zero lore or even much relevancy in game, something that boggles me to this day.

[cumikering]

Neighbour Ghost x reader 7

2.3k | angst, drinking irresponsibly If Simon could do it all again (part 1) (part 8/end)

“You don’t look good, sir.” The sergeant stood at attention, looking straight into his lieutenant’s eyes.

Simon had to commend the balls of Kevlar required to walk right up to him to point the fact out unprompted, but that was why he liked Sgt. Eric Jefferies the most. You had no time to waste when you raced with death on the regular - he would tell anyone they didn’t look good.

He knew he didn’t - it was the same bland face he had the pleasure to look at in the mirror each day. Annoyed, but not surprised by the darkening circles under his eyes, stark against his pale complexion. It didn’t help that he nicked himself in the jaw shaving that morning.

“Dining hall, sergeant,” he grunted.

“You’re barely eating, Riley,” Lt. Ramsay said, the same bloke who’d catch him sneaking back to his room. “You know you’re contributing to the food waste when you don’t ask for seconds, yeah?”

It was true, and the table chuckled, but Simon continued to shove whatever was on his plate into his mouth. It was enough to not starve.

“He never leaves his room anymore, not even on the weekends,” another lieutenant quipped, but was promptly elbowed by the officer next to him.

That, too, was true.

Simon had nowhere else to be, like how it always was before his mum came to Hereford. These days his flat was too empty and cold with the hole in his chest. He never came back after that night.

It wasn’t like he was thriving in his quarters either, but it was still a little better – at least it was untouched by you. Though his nights were dreamless at first, he kept waking, and waking until the dreams started.

It was a glitch in the universe, wasn’t it? That the memory that played in his mind to insanity was the last time he saw you, about crawling back to your door with limbs that didn’t feel like his, vision swaying with the lights, coming on and off, his heartbeat ringing in his head.

It’s not supposed to end this way… I want to try…

He sighed at another disturbed night. Tea would slow his mind. Instead, he found the box of Darjeeling you gifted him to take back to base. ‘So we can have the same tea over the phone,’ you’d said.

Was there a way to escape you, make you stop haunting? He needed an exorcism.

He put it back in his drawer. One day, it wouldn’t have to hurt anymore.

And the nightmares came back. It was once, then twice, and thrice a week of waking up in cold sweat in the dark.

Simon’s performance slipped. There was a reason sleep deprivation was a popular torture method. He requested sleeping medications - his career was the last thing he had and he wasn’t about to let it go. Any unrestful sleep interrupted by the vivid images his sickly mind conjured up was still better than no sleep at all.

Quitting you was impossible when the thoughts still followed. If pushing you away didn’t work, maybe basking in the memories would, even if it hurt more. Aching for your warmth, the scraps of it, he’d go anywhere you’d been to see your ghost. The pain was better than the void.

“You lads are volunteering at the soup kitchen this Saturday,” he announced to Sgt. Jefferies after hours.

“Saturday, sir?”

“It’s good for you. Reminds you why you’re doing all this.”

“Can’t tell me what to do,” he teased. “You’re not my L.T. on the weekends.”

Simon’s stare didn’t waver and the other bloke’s smile dropped.

“Copy, sir. I’ll tell the others.”

When the four burly SAS soldiers entered the kitchen, chatter and clanks stalled as all eyes turned to them.

“May… May I help you young lads?” one of the middle-aged ladies said.

Simon recognised her from his last visit, but he quickly realised this was a silly idea. He was out of place, knowing no one there.

He flashed half a smile. “Just wanted to give a hand. Got any lifting to do?”

The lieutenant and his sergeants hauled the food items to the kitchen, including the bread which he taught his sergeants to half and butter. They were offered to peel potatoes, but Simon decided it was wise to leave it to the pros instead.

People still avoided his gaze while his boys exchanged pleasantries with the other volunteers; Eric even got called handsome by the group of older ladies he impressed with his strength as he hefted the sack of potatoes. While the night was as pleasant, it wasn’t the same if you weren’t there to hold his hand and laugh at his jokes.

When the boys invited Simon to the pub at the end of the night, he said no. He thought he was ready, but even after weeks, coming back to his flat was just as sickening.

The silence pierced. Despite all the lights flicked on, the place made his skin crawl, the space too vast and empty. But he didn’t become a lieutenant from succumbing to his emotions.

As he lay in bed, he recalled that you too slept there once. That the mattress once dipped with the gentle weight of you, but unlike the bed that bounced back, you’d left a lasting imprint that disfigured his soul.

Simon wondered what you were up to, if you knew he was there drowning, miserable in his cold room. He couldn’t decide if he preferred your door to be closer or further: closer so he could catch a glimpse of you without meaning to, or further so he wouldn’t be so tempted to go over and get on his knees.

You said begging only reduced you to nothing, but for you, he’d beg and beg. There wasn’t much to lose when he wasn’t much to begin with. He was a stray for a reason.

He tossed and turned, and was granted a wink of sleep before the same bloody dream flashed in his mind.

I don’t care how hard it gets…

He sat up, feet thudding on the floor as he rubbed his face with a heavy sigh. It was always that one moment, like a broken record. Why couldn’t it be you on a night out, or kissing you on the kitchen counter, or simply, you smiling? It was a curse. If only the heart could follow where one’s feet went.

With no plans on coming here, his sleeping pills lay on his desk at base. He looked through the cabinets to distract himself, finding various bottles of dusty, unopened spirits he was gifted. They weren’t his cup of tea.

So he packed, to get his mind off you, from spiralling and digging a deeper grave for itself.

It was time for a change. With the accommodation he was provided, he never needed to rent, but he did anyway in case his mum ever needed the place. It was a good call he did, but with the divorce on the way, keeping it was pointless. He’d rather spend the extra money on his mum and nephew.

Yes, he came to remember- not to forget, but you wouldn’t leave, would you? In the dead of night, when he pulled the hoodie he’d forgotten about out of his wardrobe, he decided he’d had enough of his bloody flat and drove back to base.

He still had another weekend to before his next deployment, a two-month mission. He’d finish packing then.

“You’re right, sir, it feels good volunteering.” Eric grinned at his lieutenant. “We’re going again tomorrow. Also one of the ladies is introducing her daughter to Sam. See you there then?”

Never again. “Dining hall, sergeant.”

Simon was a fool for not finishing his lunch sooner and bolting, instead lingering for the announcement. With how atrocious he did on his tests, he must have been beyond high to still hope for a miracle, that despite everything, he still had a chance at a promotion.

He didn’t make to the top 3.

Amidst the wishes from the table, Lt. Ramsay’s turned to him. His grateful smile faltered.

Simon’s fists clenched. It was supposed to be him, his. But who was he to be mad. It was the fruit of his incompetence. He knew this was coming. Things were going to shit. The unforgiving truth was staring right at him mercilessly: he had nothing else.

He left for his office.

“Sir, sir!” Sgt. Jefferies called. “We’re heading to the pub tonight. Come with us.”

He gritted his teeth. Word travelled too fast.

“Let’s get out of the base for a bit,” he continued when he caught up to his long strides. “It’s the last weekend before we ship out.”

Simon eyed the display of vibrant bottles behind the bar as he listened to his sergeants’ orders, the names foreign to him. Above, the telly showed a rugby match rerun no one paid attention to.

“Jefferies, how much you reckon it takes me to get pissed?”

He chuckled. “You, sir? At least 10,” he said before taking a swig of his beer.

“Nah, 15 sounds more like it.” Richie, the designated driver for the evening piped up.

Sam downed his first two shots, hissing as he slammed the glasses on the bar. “Agreed. Do you know how much he lifts?” He nodded at Simon’s biceps, bulging under his loose black shirt.

It was a genuine question. Simon didn’t want to get pissed, he only wanted to forget. He didn’t mean to go over his limit he had no idea was at seven.

Drunk Simon was a weeping, blabbering mess. It didn’t help that he was massive, because his sergeants had trouble getting him to the car before Richie drove him to the address of his flat he barely managed to gurgle out before passing out.

“Sir, you’re paying for the bloody cleaning if you get sick in my car!”

Why did he think this was a good idea? He was never a drinker, barely even touched alcohol socially. It was the poison that turned his dad into a demon, and it too became his downfall. The only thing he thought he would always have – his resolve, let him down too. He’d lost you, his mum whom he was supposed to protect, his future, and now his dignity.

Desperation was a lethal sentiment.

And that dream came again, that he stumbled to your door. Legs wobbly, his vision in and out as the world spun in slow motion.

“Luv… Luv, it’s not supposed to end like this,” he slurred, the same line he always opened with.

A marionette, a prisoner in his own head, it was a loop he couldn’t escape. The awful show had to commence to end the same way each time.

“I’m sick of losing and I wouldn’t know what to do when you leave, after how much you’ve given. Instead, I left when you needed me. I should have been there for you, gone through all this with you, no matter how hard it got.

“If you would give me a chance, I’ll quit the SAS. I’d start all over again. I’ll butcher the carrots and apples with the bloody peeler, I’ll let the steakhouse mess up our reservation and eat a dozen soapy tacos… If you ever show up at my door with your pie again, I swear I’d kiss you, not scare you. And I’ll never let go. If it has to hurt, I want it to be you.”

The door clicked open, and like how it always went, it meant the dream was coming to an end.

“You make it worth it,” he muttered as his vision faded.

…

Simon gasped for air, this time staring up at blinding lights. He shielded his wet eyes, chuckling to himself.

“Bloody hell, I think I’m sick on the inside.”

“Only your past, but you are not your past.” Your voice echoed in the distance.

His body was too heavy to move. “Could you forgive me, for all of this?”

“Could you? You need to forgive more than you need to be forgiven.”

He laughed as another tear slipped.

Simon woke on his couch, still in his clothes from the night before. Dreaming of you always drained him, leaving him hollow and out of touch with his body.

He sat up with a groan, rubbing his face as the dizziness settled. He didn’t remember much after getting dragged to Richie’s car. Judging by the gnarly bruise on his arm, he probably fell last night, but he was glad he found his way back to his flat in one piece.

Stumbling to the shower, he hissed when his toe stubbed one of the boxes on the floor. It was a horrendous decision to drink so much, still having to pack the rest of his stuff. He leaned over the sink, staring at his bloodshot eyes.

His sergeant was right. He didn’t look good. He never did. What the fuck are you doing to yourself, Riley?

With his hair damp, he made his way to the kitchen. As he realised he’d packed all his tea stash in one of the bloody boxes, a series of knocks echoed in his flat.

He grumbled. It better be important for someone to disturb his peace, especially with the pounding of his head. He couldn’t be bothered putting a shirt on before he swung the door open.

It was you, a pie in hand like the first time he met you all those months ago.

“Hi, is Simon in?”

His heart lurched as he crushed you in a hug.

“Thought you said you were going to kiss me.”

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[savemefromanepicoftimewasted]

You Cannot Run From Your Past

Mobster!Simon "Ghost" Riley X F!Reader

The rest of the meal was quiet, save for the noise of knives and forks gently scraping against the ceramic plates. You were thankful for the silence, giving you the opportunity to think about everything that had happened that day. You’d gone from living on the streets to being housed by one of the most dangerous people in the country. a/n:this is a mafia au! so there will be a LOT of violence, MINORS DNI, this is part one of the series, the rest will be linked once posted warnings:mentions of wounds, blood, murder, gore, smut(MAJOR smut) word count:4.5k

Everyone knew who the 141 were, some of the most feared men on this side of the Atlantic. No one with even a single braincell knew to fuck with them. Their leader, Price, had killed men for less than what you were currently kneeling for. You’d gotten caught trying to steal money from one of the henchmen. Your boyfriend had kicked you out of the apartment, after finding out he’d been cheating of course, and now you were homeless. It was either steal from the, what you assumed was dumb, henchman or go hungry for another week until someone took pity on you. So here you were, kneeling before a man who wouldn’t think twice about putting a bullet between your brows.

“Did you really think he wouldn’t notice?” Price was more annoyed than truly angry, he felt some sort of sympathy towards you.

“I thought if I was quick enough he wouldn’t, no.” You were ashamed to admit you thought you could get away with your plan.

“Why were you trying to pickpocket anyway?” Price sat on the edge of his desk, staring down at you.

“Boyfriend, ex boyfriend, kicked me out and I’ve been living on the street for the last couple of months. Got desperate if I’m gonna be honest.” You hadn’t lived in England that long, having moved over from Massachusetts earlier in the year to live with your boyfriend.

God you had felt like such a moron, he’d lured you over with the promise of being able to take care of you, only to dump you out onto the street like trash. Of course he’d at least given the courtesy of telling you about Price and his men first, and yet here you were.

“Soap, take her and get her something to eat, I want to have a chat with the ex.” Your brow furrowed, why the hell did he want to talk with Eric anyway?

A man walked over, the strip of hair down the middle of his skull was slicked down yet looked almost fluffy. He helped you up gently, taking you down to the kitchen where a chef was cooking up something delicious. Your stomach grumbled loudly, leaving you embarrassed as everyone’s heads turned to stare at you. It really had been too long since you’d had a decent meal, not counting the scraps that the cook had given you a few days ago.

“Have a seat lass, eat as much as you’d like.” His voice wasn’t condescending and that you were grateful for, people could be so cruel to the homeless.

The chef dished up a heaping plate of what looked like spaghetti bolognese, the scent of roasted garlic and tomato filled the air. Your mouth was salivating within seconds, but before you could pull the plate closer the chef was sliding a heft piece of cheesy garlic bread on top. Oh my, you had definitely died and gone to heaven if this was going to be the case. You picked up your fork and slid the plate closer. The steam rising from the sauce caused a slight bead of sweat to rise along your browline. You couldn’t be bothered to wipe it away as you dug in, knowing better than to eat as fast as you could lest you get sick.

The flavours burst over your tongue like fireworks, this was definitely the best bowl of pasta you’d ever eaten. You swallowed the forkful you’d just eaten before biting into the garlic bread, nearly moaning at the salty bite of the cheese. This was how Price got to eat on the daily? God you would give anything just to eat like this at least once a month. Half the plate was gone before you came up for a breath, wiping your mouth with the napkin Soap had left by you.

“Would you like some water?” The chef was holding out a glass, his hands now clean that you noticed.

“Oh thank you so much.” You took the glass grateful, gulping down the water until there was nothing left.

You set the glass down next to your napkin, digging in once more to the amazing pasta. Maybe he was letting you eat one final meal before he killed you, there were worse ways to go. At this rate you weren’t going to complain, not since this was the first decent meal you’d had in forever. On the other side of town, you were completely unaware that Price had located your ex Eric and was paying him a personal visit.

Knuckles collided with the skin on his cheek, blood pouring from the wound opened by the ring on Price’s pinky.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Eric could barely lift his head, words slurred as his vision blurred.

“Do you really think I’m that naive? You worked for me, and yet your little friend is trying to steal from one of my men to get herself some food.” Price was beyond enraged, Eric was one of the lower henchmen, someone to clean up his dirty work mainly.

“Fuck, she’s still alive?” Eric screamed in pain as a blade dug into the skin and muscle of his shoulder.

Simon was standing by the door, arms crossed over his chest as he watched Price take care of a mistake he’d made. Though no one but Soap, Gaz, and Price were ever allowed to call him Simon, most people who bore witness to him as Ghost. He was the silent killer, slipping into someone’s apartment with ease and slipping out without leaving a trace behind. He’d had nearly as big a reputation as Price himself, for different reasons of course.

“Yes, she’s still alive, however since I’ve come to find out you’ve been stealing money from me you won’t be around to see any of it.” Eric’s eyes widened in fear, lips parted to beg and plea as Price pulled the trigger.

The gunshot was partially muffled, no one would call the police until Price and Simon had fled the scene, giving him ample time to make it home with an alibi. He began to wonder how you were doing, had you been able to eat and take a shower? Maybe you took a bath and soaked in one of the large tubs he had. It was the least he could do, the only thing Price never did was murder women or children, it was against his code. He’d heard about someone else who took anyone down that crossed their path, he refused to be like that.

Goddamn American’s.

“Make sure all our fingerprints are gone before tonight.” Price didn’t wait to see if Simon listened or not before heading down to his car. 

His driver was waiting behind the wheel, nodding when Price muttered the word ‘home’. He hadn’t planned on getting messy today, but sometimes things happened that he couldn’t control. It would be less paperwork in the long run, he’d just transfer the money from Eric’s account to one for you. Maybe he could get Kyle to do it, he’d been itching to do something for the last few weeks anyhow.

“We’ve arrived sir.” Alex pulled the car into the garage, knowing better than to open the door for Price.

“Thank you, why don’t you take the rest of the night off? If I need your assistance I’ll call.” Price slipped out of the back of the car and headed inside to look for you.

The sound of two people arguing caught his attention, he could make out Soap’s voice right away, but the other wasn’t one he was quite familiar with. As he turned the corner the picture before him nearly had him laughing. You were standing across from Soap, freshly showered in what looked to be a pair of Soap’s pajamas, arguing about desserts.

“Brownies are clearly the superior choice! You just have horrible taste!” Soap scoffed, rolling his eyes at your bratty attitude.

“Tha’s a lie!” Soap was ready to argue his point on why the chocolate chip cookies were better.

“That’s because you have horrible taste! Even the chef agrees the brownies were better.” You refused to back down, ignoring the way Soap’s chest was heaving.

Price had stopped in the doorway, snickering at the way the two of you were acting like complete children. It was a nice change of pace, and with how his night had gone it was a pleasant surprise to come back to.

“You’re back! I just wanted you to know that your chef is amazing and makes some of the best bolognese I’ve ever had before.” Your stomach was still full, slightly aching with everything you’d eaten.

“Glad to know the food was up to your standards, you settling in alright?” Price kept his hands hidden, knowing his knuckles were bloody and bruised.

“I am, I honestly don’t even know how to thank you for everything.” You were afraid he would still kill you, especially since you’d spent the last hour arguing with his henchman Soap.

He brushed you off, assuring you that you didn’t need to worry about repaying him right then, he could find a way for you to work for him if needed. Maybe you could do the finances, it was an easy enough job for you to do, it would keep you housed and fed as well. You were quite attractive as well, he could take you to any fancy party as his arm candy.

“How well are you with money?” It sounded like such an odd question.

“I worked in finance in the US, so I’m decent.” You didn’t want to say who your employer used to be, lest it cost your life.

“Perfect, you’ll work for me, if that’s alright.” Price raised a brow questioningly.

Your jaw dropped open, nodding quickly to confirm that yes, you would absolutely be alright working for him. It would get you off the streets at least, though working for someone so dangerous was nothing new to you. Maybe you could get an apartment nearby, something that wasn’t infested with termites like your ex's place.

“We’ll get you started tomorrow, the first matter of business is taking you shopping so you can look presentable for meetings.” Wait, you weren’t going to have to be around him 24/7, were you?

“I’m sorry sir, I’d be going to meetings with you?” For some reason the thought unnerved you, what if things backfired and you ended up dead this time?

“Yes, is that going to be a problem?” Price turned to face you, brow raised slightly.

“No, not at all sir.” It was time to keep your mouth shut and do whatever was told, Price was a very dangerous man.

You only had a couple minutes to prepare before Price, along with Soap, were dragging you out to one of the many cars that sat in his garage. Soap would be driving wherever you wanted to go, money not an issue to make sure you would look flawless. Designers were a waste of money, sure having the logo would make heads turn, but thousands for a piece of cloth? Ridiculous.

Price insisted you buy things that at least looked professional, since you seemed to be so against letting him purchase things for you. Soap even tried to interject and get you to agree with Price’s demands, saying it was better not to argue. You wanted to stand your ground and refuse, until you caught sight of a gorgeous dress. There’d be no reason to wear it, but by god did you need to have it at that moment. So you relinquished and gave permission to price to choose things for you, as long as you could get that dress.

He agreed happily, choosing things and letting you find your size so as not to make you uncomfortable. It was nice, knowing that you would be able to get all these new clothes without the stipulation you would need to sleep with him. Your ex would constantly hold gifts and such over your head so you would sleep with him. And yet he’d still had the nerve to cheat and throw you out.

“Awfully quiet sweetheart.” Price turned his head to face you, noticing the way your brow had furrowed.

“Just thinking about the past is all.” You merely shrugged, there was no use in being upset over things you couldn’t change, but it still stung.

“Well, why don’t you tell me about it?” Price had turned to face you fully, attention focused on everything you had to say.

The words turned to ash in your mouth, could you tell him the truth about the type of person you were? How you’d helped someone murder so many innocent people that dared cross his path just by simply existing?

“Do you want the basic rundown, or all the nitty gritty?” You had only ever told one person about your childhood, you’d hoped to never run into him again.

“Everything, spare no detail.” Oh, well this was going to be a long day.

The words slipped out with ease, telling Price everything, from how your father was physically abusive, to how your mother tried to use you for her own benefit. You had run away at fifteen, working odd jobs before you met your old boss at eighteen. He kept you housed, fed, and clothed from when you turned eighteen to a few months shy of when you left entirely. You’d seen things most people who’d gone off to war never dealt with. It was a horrible reminder of how much you’d had to give up just to survive.

“You worked for someone else, someone important..who.” Though it was a question, Price knew exactly who you’d worked for.

“James Barnes, sir.” Your heart was racing, no one except for James, and his right hand woman, Natasha, knew about you.

Price’s expression darkened, causing your heart rate to spike suddenly as you realized how badly you’d fucked up. Would this be the end for you? Having admitted to working for what was essentially his rival?

“How long?” Price could use any information you had on the other man, especially if it meant getting ahead.

“Over ten years, took me in when I was barely eighteen.” It was the truth, you’d basically grown up alongside James.

“And you don’t by any chance know some things that could be useful to me?” It was a loaded question, do you tell him how James had a son he cared so much about. Or how his best friend for over twenty years had cut off all contact after he’d heard of what became of him?

“I’ll tell you everything over dinner.” It was a proposition. You give him information, he gives you anything you could ever ask for.

Soap smirked to himself, pulling down the long road that led to Price’s luxurious home. You would fit in quite nicely with everyone.

Price had everything brought to your room, the closets stuffed full of all your new clothes, shoes, and even the few accessories you picked out. It was nice, knowing you were going to be alright as long as you didn’t step on anyone’s toes. As you made your way down to the kitchen you noticed someone else talking to Price. He was big, arms large enough to crush your skull(though you’d probably thank him). Something about him seemed so familiar though, as if you’d run into him many times before.

“Ready to eat?” Price turned away from the stranger, gesturing to the expansive table.

“I am, thank you so much for all of this, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you.”  You walked over and sat down, if the food was even half as good that lunch was, you would die happy.

Soap and another man you’d never met before walked into the kitchen, taking their own seats alongside the newcomer. The chef brought out the first course, a delicate butternut squash soup with crusty pieces of bread to dop. You nearly moaned at how silky the soup was, making sure not to slurp and disturb anyone else. The bread had a slight bite to it, the crust just hard enough to soak in the buttery goodness without becoming soggy.

“So, what can you tell me?” Price had finished his soup, sipping on the glass of bourbon that had been brought out along with his food.

“James is someone that’s highly feared in most of the states, word spreads like wildfire and they’re all too afraid to say anything bad about him.” You took another bite of the bread, taking a moment to collect your emotions.

“His best friend Steve hasn’t spoken to him since they were teens, he’d found out about James joining the mafia and just disappeared one day.” You’d witnessed the way Steve had torn the other man apart, it was gut wrenching to watch.

You felt bad for James at that moment, he no longer had his family, and now the one person he could rely on was gone as well. Natasha was the closest thing he had to family anymore, and last you knew they were still friends. 

“He has a son, named after himself of course, goes by JJ. Last I knew his son was nearly thirteen and was living solely with his dad.” You sighed softly, grabbing your glass of water to take a sip.

“Surprised he had the time to knock someone up.” Soap mumbled into his food, ignoring everything else entirely.

“Johnny, what did we talk about?” Price stared at the other man like a disappointed father.

“No talking shit at dinner.” Soap, or was it Johnny?

You tried to hide your smile, a soft giggle slipping through as you finished your bowl of soup. Soap looked affronted, how dare you laugh at him being scolded by Price as if he was a child, very uncool.

“Before we continue with our conversation, I’d like to introduce Gaz, and Simon.” Price gestured to the two men sitting across from you.

You were shocked that someone as stunning as Gaz was working for him and not as a runway model, he could bring people to tears with his beauty. Simon wasn’t glaring at you per se, more like he was trying to decipher you. There was something about him that made you want to stare back, but you thought better of it and focused your attention back onto Price.

“Nice to meet you both, I met Soap earlier and his horrible taste in snacks.” Gaz couldn’t help but laugh at your statement.

“Thank you! He’s always had the worst taste imaginable.” Gaz was definitely going to become a good friend, you could sense it.

“Shut up!” Soap threw his hands up, arms crossing over his chest with a huff.

“You do mate, it’s all out of love.” Gaz slapped a hand on his shoulder, laughing when Soap rolled his eyes.

The chef brought out the entree before anymore conversation could continue, a beautifully seared filet mignon with roasted fingerling potatoes and caramelized carrots. You wanted to dig in almost instantly, waiting until everyone had their plates before slicing into the meat. It melted like butter on your tongue, washing over your taste buds as if it were made by god himself. 

“Alright, as I was saying earlier about James. He’s a very paranoid man, comes with the territory when you’ve slaughtered as many people as he has. So unless you have a reason to do business with him you won’t be able to get close. I’ve watched him murder a man for less before, and that’s the last thing I want to see ever again.” You cut apart one of the potatoes, popping the half into your mouth.

“So, what you’re saying is that if I need to take care of him, we need someone on the inside.” Price had a point, but James would see it coming a million miles away.

“Partially, but James would see that coming a mile away. You want someone he’s close with, a loved one, or a best friend that knows his every move and can get you the information.” You kept your eyes on your plate, not noticing the way all eyes were suddenly on you.

“And, do you know someone that could do this?” Price was asking something dangerous, sure you knew plenty of people that could, and had reason to kill James, but none of them were willing.

“The only man that would ever want to take him out would be Tony Stark, man’s had it out for him since he found out James had his parents murdered.” It had been the final straw that sent you packing.

“Hmm, I’ll have to give him a look see later.” Price dug into his own food, ignoring the way Simon seemed to still be staring at you.

“He’s a dangerous man, nearly had me killed just for walking on his property one day.” You rolled your eyes, stabbing your potato with more force than necessary.

Simon raised a brow, watching how you seemed to become annoyed at even mentioning Tony’s name. Whoever this man was clearly had a vendetta against you, and you as well for him.  That’s how this type of world worked, you were either with or against the people you considered the villains. You seemed to fit in so well that Simon couldn’t be bothered to second guess any of it, not when Price welcomed you in with open arms.

“Have to be precautious, comes with the territory darling.” Price merely shrugged, he’d always kept one eye open no matter what, but some people were just paranoid.

“Yeah, I guess. Didn’t make my life any easier when I was trying to get out of New York though, I swear James has men everywhere.” You’d almost been caught twice before finally boarding the plane to safety.

The rest of the meal was quiet, save for the noise of knives and forks gently scraping against the ceramic plates. You were thankful for the silence, giving you the opportunity to think about everything that had happened that day. You’d gone from living on the streets to being housed by one of the most dangerous people in the country. This was definitely a dream, you were going to wake up in the morning and find yourself under that bridge with everyone else. It wasn’t the first time you’d had this dream only to wake up to reality. Though it usually landed you back in the US and not over in London.

“I’ll be in my office if anyone needs me, goodnight.” Price nodded towards everyone before leaving the table.

You weren’t sure if you were allowed to head to bed or not, after the day you’d had your body was begging for sleep. Soap’s clothes, while a little oversized, were definitely going to be comfortable enough to sleep in. Gaz immediately pulled Soap into a conversation, discussing something that sounded like an entirely different language to you at that moment. You gave Simon a quick nod before leaving the table and heading up to your new room. The only light was from the moon, illuminating the room in a soft ethereal glow.

Throwing back the covers on the mattress you crawled into the plush bed, groaning softly at how soft the comforter was. It felt as if you were laying on a cloud, even with the crisp air the blankets were just warm enough to keep you comfortable. Your eyes slipped closed before you could even try and fight them, slipping into dreamland.

Downstairs Soap, Gaz, and Simon were all sitting around the table. Soap had tried to pull Simon into the conversation only to be shot down immediately. Simon couldn’t explain it, but something about you drew him in. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this way, always pushing away the prospect of dating as if it was a deadly disease. Soap would catch on to his sudden fixation on you, man was like a bloodhound when it came to women. The very last thing that Simon wanted, or needed, was Soap getting on his ass about you. He couldn’t get a proper read on you, there was something you weren’t telling everyone. And Simon was determined to find out every tiny thing.

Meanwhile in New York

James was angry, nearly panting as he paced the foyer of his penthouse. How the hell had you managed to slip through his fingers so easily? He’d had eyes on you for so long, and yet you’d managed to get to fucking England. Natasha had been the one to break the news to him, stance stoic as the words sunk into his bones. You were gone, and now there was a high chance that you’d managed to get yourself killed. James knew all about Price and his little minions, the fucker was slowly taking control of more countries.

“We need to locate her, now.” James kept his back to Natasha, the only person he ever trusted.

“I’ve reached out to my informants, they’re scouring every nook and cranny to find her. Last we knew her boyfriend was killed.” Shit, if they’d gotten to someone you were dating, you were definitely next.

“You mean that little shit convinced her to leave, and someone got to him before me?” James’ tone was deadly, venom lacing each word.

“It appears so, they’re claiming his death was a suicide, but the autopsy showed facial wounds caused by something small but sharp.” Natasha had seen the photos, it was pretty clear what had caused the superficial wounds.

He sighed softly, stepping away from the floor to ceiling windows to fully face Natasha who was watching him closely. James was the type of man to take out anyone that stood in his way of something he wanted. She could never figure out why James seemed to be so infatuated with you when you’d never shown any interest. You were friendly with him of course, but there had never been romantic feelings. Had he been trying to replace Steve’s friendship with you? It was the only thing that made any sense.

“Why don’t we make a quick little trip across the pond, there’s some people I’ve needed to visit anyway.” James smirked, reaching up to slick back his hair gently.

“I’ll call Scott and make sure the plane is ready in the morning.” Natasha turned away from him, pulling out her phone to make a quick call.

Who in the world did James know that lived over in England? The last she’d heard about that was when she’d had someone killed in their apartment for stealing money. Her phone pinged with a new message, a name she’d never expected to see again flashing before her.

Steve Rogers: We need to talk.

[tacticalhimbo]

REMEMBERING PULSE NIGHTCLUB - COMMUNITY COALITION AGAINST ONEPULSE

The only prominent post going around about the Pulse Nightclub shooting in 2016 is my own, and is unfortunately cursed to the fate of receiving reblogs of an inaccurate version. So, 8 years later, I'm doing the right thing and making a new post to properly honor the victims and their families.

May these beautiful souls rest in peace, and may we never forget their names (not in picture order, afaik):

Stanley Almodovar III, 23

Amanda Alvear, 25

Oscar A Aracena-Montero, 26

Rodolfo Ayala-Ayala, 33

Alejandro Barrios Martinez, 21

Martin Benitez Torres, 33

Antonio D Brown, 30

Darryl R Burt II, 29

Jonathan A Camuy Vega, 24

Angel L Candelario-Padro, 28

Simon A Carrillo Fernandez, 31

Juan Chevez-Martinez, 25

Luis D Conde, 39

Cory J Connell, 21

Tevin E Crosby, 25

Franky J Dejesus Velazquez, 50

Deonka D Drayton, 32

Mercedes M Flores, 26

Peter O Gonzalez-Cruz, 22

Juan R Guerrero, 22

Paul T Henry, 41

Frank Hernandez, 27

Miguel A Honorato, 30

Javier Jorge-Reyes, 40

Jason B Josaphat, 19

Eddie J Justice, 30

Anthony L Laureano Disla, 25

Christopher A Leinonen, 32

Brenda L Marquez McCool, 49

Jean C Mendez Perez, 35

Akyra Monet Murray, 18

Kimberly Morris, 37

Jean C Nieves Rodriguez, 27

Luis O Ocasio-Capo, 20

Geraldo A Ortiz-Jimenez, 25

Eric Ivan Ortiz-Rivera, 36

Joel Rayon Paniagua, 32

Enrique L Rios Jr, 25

Juan P Rivera Velazquez, 37

Yilmary Rodriguez Solivan, 24

Christopher J Sanfeliz, 24

Xavier Emmanuel Serrano Rosado, 35

Gilberto Ramon Silva Menendez, 25

Edward Sotomayor Jr, 34

Shane E Tomlinson, 33

Leroy Valentin Fernandez, 25

Luis S Vielma, 22

Luis Daniel Wilson-Leon, 37

Jerald A Wright, 31

Will it gain the traction it needs? Probably not. But I'm not as... distant, about today, as I have been over the years. Because let's face it... This hits close to home for me. I said this in my original posting, too:

As someone who lives relatively near Orlando, I remember this day so vividly and I still feel a lot of pain for the victims even five years later.

I remember biting back tears in my living room because I wasn't out of the closet, and couldn't let my family know just how much this hurt me. I remember breaking down that night while scrolling the headlines, watching as the number of fatalities kept climbing. I remember staring at the button on Facebook asking me if I was safe.

And to this day, even with those involved and responsible gone... I still do not feel safe as a queer man in this state or in this country.

More importantly, though, it's important to highlight the community impacted by it, and the way onePULSE and its founder (Barbara Poma), the city of Orlando, and the State of Florida have exploited and continue to exploit the deaths of these individuals.

Information from here on out will be taken from the Community Coalition Agaisnt a Pulse Museum's official website, which can be found at the following link: [ LINK ]

The Community Coalition Against a Pulse Museum (CCAPM) is a group of surviving victims, family members of victims, activists, and scholars who have banded together to fight against the onePULSE Foundation's privatized memorial and museum complex. Our position is that money raised in the name of the mass shooting should go to the continued care of survivors. A public memorial park that does not seek to capitalize on the mass shooting in any way is the only option for a just memorial.

In addition, we seek justice for mass shooting victims by exposing the history and scope of unpermitted renovations and code violations at Pulse, which impaired the escape and rescue of shooting victims. We believe that Pulse owners Rosario Poma and Barbara Poma should be held accountable for these violations, rather than continuing to profit from a tragedy that was exacerbated by their illegal business decisions. We also want to see the City of Orlando held accountable for their continued failure to enforce the law and bring the business into compliance.

So what are the prominent issues?

WE ARE AGAINST COMMODIFYING MASS MURDER

The onePULSE Foundation has placed a gift shop feet away from where 49 people were murdered on the site of the interim memorial. We firmly renounce putting any price tag on the murder of our loved ones. The proposed museum is also slated to have a gift shop and a price of admission.

WE ARE AGAINST TURNING A PUBLIC TRAGEDY INTO PRIVATE PROFITS

Pulse nightclub owner, Barbara Poma, refused to sell the property to the City of Orlando for a public memorial. Instead, she created the onePULSE Foundation and has taken an executive salary in her self-made position as CEO. Perks have also included national recognition, celebrity, political connections, and undeserved accolades as an LGBTQ+ ally.

WE ARE AGAINST TURNING A MASS SHOOTING INTO A TOURIST ATTRACTION

The onePULSE Foundation has received a $10 MILLION tourism development tax grant from Orange County for the building of a museum. The tax application shows how the proposed memorial/museum complex has been intended to increase tourism during the off-season. The corporate Board of Trustees also reflects the local tourism industry.

WE SUPPORT INVESTING IN THE CONTINUED CARE OF SURVIVORS

Money raised in the name of the mass shooting at Pulse is going to multi-million dollar buildings rather than the continued care of the people who were directly affected. Available services and organizations have not provided adequate care to survivors and the onePULSE Foundation has not stepped in to fill any gaps; focusing instead on cultural and "educational" programs, while ignoring the ongoing needs of survivors.

WE CALL OUT A CHANGING MISSION

For years, the onePULSE Foundation raised funds for community grants for victims' families and survivors. In 2019, "community grants" were removed from the organization's mission. According to the released 2018 990s, only $1k was spent on community grants. People have donated money to the organization thinking that they were helping survivors.

WE ACKNOWLEDGE CONFLICTS OF INTEREST

onePULSE Foundation CEO Barbara Poma is currently being sued by survivors and victims' families as part of a security negligence lawsuit. This lawsuit also alleges the illegal transfer of the Pulse nightclub property which was transferred via quit claim deed in the months after the shooting to two other LLCs owned by Barbara and Rosario Poma. Funds raised by the non-profit are being invested in the Pulse property that the Poma's still own.

As of 2024, this case is still pending, with the latest service list being posted on the docket as of June 11. The case number is publicly available (2018-CA-006102-O) and is searchable via the Orange County Clerk of Courts Record Search.

WE AFFIRM A PUBLIC MEMORIAL PARK IS STILL POSSIBLE

Public memorial parks have been the overwhelming response to mass shootings around the country, including Aurora, Columbine, Las Vegas, and Newtown. Most have been built by volunteers, with no executive salaries. The OnePULSE Foundation's proposed museum attraction seeks to unnecessarily turn the shooting into a spectacle and requires merchandising the tragedy. Mass murder is not for sale!

WE CONTINUE TO EXPOSE UNPERMITTED RENOVATIONS AND CODE VIOLATIONS

Public records affirm that Pulse Nightclub was a death trap due to its unpermitted renovations and code violations. Documents show that these issues affected the both the escape and rescue of Pulse survivors on June 12, 2016. We continue to collect, document, and uncover these issues since the City of Orlando has still not released all relevant records to the public.

Survivors of the incident, as well as their families and those who have faced similar tragedy, have also signed an open letter [ LINK ] calling attention to these issues, provided documented evidence of the above claims [ LINK ], and have also been running a petition since 2019 to call attention to the matter:

Of course, it is important to note that the individuals mentioned (Barbara Poma, the Orlando City Council, etc.) are not the only ones involved in making this state an unsafe place for its queer community.

As noted in my original posting as well, the unsafe nature of this state runs through its government. The fight for our rights, our recognition, and our safety still continues. Here are some facts from the original post (dated June 12, 2021):

In June 2021, the Governor of Florida vetoed an "item-lined budget bill" - that legally provides mental health, counseling, and compensation directly towards victims of the June 2016 Pulse nightclub Orlando shooting.

While they cannot be enforced, sodomy laws still exist in Florida to this day. Every year, we are still criminalized by a technicality.

In many places, same-sex domestic partnerships are still not granted. It is only viable in approximately nine counties, thirty cities, and one town.

It took until 2016 for same-sex couples to be granted the same parental rights during in vitro fertilization and surrogacy as opposite-sex couples. Before then, the non-biological mother and father was not the child's legal parent nor guardian.

The state's "hate crime law" only accounts for sexual orientation, and does not protect victims who were attacked for their gender identity.

Anti-discrimination laws for sexual orientation and gender identity are not state-wide nor equally applicable within each county/town.

On June 1, 2021, Governor of Florida Ron DeSantis signed a bill to exclude transgender women from participating in sports designated for female students. This bill passed because of a last-minute legislative "procedural maneuver". The HRC is currently establishing a campaign to try and stop the law from going into effect (called "nullification") on midnight July 1.

Gay-panic and Trans-panic are still viable legal defenses, resulting in these abhorrent hate crimes to be decreased from murder to the lesser charge of manslaughter.

Conversion therapy against minors is not banned state-wide, and is still legal within many areas of the state. In fact, in some areas, a ban on the practice is deemed "unenforceable".

And that is just the tip of the iceberg, because if you've been active in your advocacy for the community (or at the very least, following me for a decent period of time)... Then you know just how unsafe Florida has become. You know how, even under the Biden administration, people like Governor Ron DeSantis have gone unchallenged in their writing and enforcement of vile legislation. You know how this legislation has begun creeping its way up to the top, to the federal level, and remained unchallenged the whole way up.

Here are some more "fun facts" about just how much we must fight against in the wake of this tragedy:

States like Florida have eliminated 80% of all trans adult care (SB 254), adults can be thrown in jail for using the bathroom of their gender identity (SB 1674), and trans people with correct gender markers on their drivers licenses can be charged with fraud (Florida Dept. of Highway Safety and Motor Vehicles memo).

The State of Florida has had several travel advisories issued against it by local LGBTQ+ organizations (e.g., Equality Florida) and national organizations (e.g., Human Rights Campaign).

Likewise, many social media laws targeting "adult content and pornography" (HB 3) include sneaky, vague language that will very much target the existence of queer folk using the internet in this state.

More states within the United States are explicitly passing anti-trans legislation than not, and moreso now than ever [ source; dated June 4th ].

The time for relying on those above us is over. We MUST kill the plague of individualism and build community. If we don't support one another, nobody will. No amount of pinkwashing, placation, or sanitation will change that.

We are here. We are queer. We will never forget, and we cannot allow ourselves to.

[ghostboycharm]

City of Bones: A Summary

I made this shitty stage play of City of Bones (book one of The Mortal Instruments by Cassandra Clare) for giggles. It's full of expository statements and idiocy but I think it's funny. And it's still better than the books.

Spoilers for City of Bones. Obviously.

EXT. PANDEMONIUM CLUB

CLARY: 

Come on, Simon, let’s use our fake IDs to get into a club called Pandemonium. This couldn’t possibly go wrong— Woah! Who is that hot blond guy?

SIMON: 

What hot blond guy?

CLARY: 

Are you gaslighting me?

SIMON: 

About what?

THEY STARE AT EACH OTHER SUSPICIOUSLY.

JACE: 

You can see me?

CLARY: 

Duh. Quirky Girl Sarcasm Intensifies. HAIR FLIP

JACE: 

Subtly Worried Brooding Silence

SIMON: 

Let’s go, Clary. I don’t like you hallucinating hot guys. He’s probably not even a natural blond.

INT. PANDEMONIUM CLUB

CLARY AND SIMON ARE DANCING.

CLARY:

Dance Dance Dance.

CLARY POINTS DOWNSTAGE RIGHT AND STOPS DANCING.

CLARY: 

The hot blond guy and another guy are following that blue-haired kid and the girl into the storeroom. And he has a knife! I should follow them. Go get help, Simon.

SIMON: 

I don’t know what’s happening but I’m so whipped that I’ll do whatever.

CLARY MARCHES DOWNSTAGE RIGHT AS SIMON EXITS DOWNSTAGE LEFT.

CLARY: 

Hey, you! Don’t stab people!

JACE: 

You idiot! You stopped me from killing a demon!

ISABELLE: 

Don’t worry, she didn’t stop me and Alec.

DEMON:

Demon Dying Noises.

SIMON ENTERS DOWNSTAGE LEFT WITH SECURITY.

SIMON: 

Clary, I got security. Why are you standing in an empty room?

CLARY: 

To isolate me in the narrative.

SIMON: 

Okayyyyyy…

INT. FRAY HOUSEHOLD

JOCELYN: 

I have to tell her, Luke. It’s only a matter of time before— 

CLARY ENTERS UPSTAGE LEFT.

JOCELYN:

Oh hi honey!

CLARY: 

Hi Mom, what’s going on?

JOCELYN: 

Honey, we’re moving to the country to live with Luke, who I am not in love with.

CLARY: 

Nooo, Mom! We can’t move! Then everything won’t be about me and my struggles!

SIMON: 

Let’s go do poetry. I’m in a band.

EXT. ROAD

SIMON AND CLARY ARE WALKING TO JAVA JONES.

SIMON: 

Hey Clary, your Mom has weird scars.

CLARY: 

No she doesn’t.

SIMON: 

Yeah she does, I’ve seen her in a bathing suit. Your mom’s hella fine.

CLARY: 

What.

INT. JAVA JONES

CLARY AND SIMON ARE SITTING AND LISTENING TO ERIC READING POETRY.

CLARY: 

Simon, you’re not gay, are you?

SIMON: 

What?

ERIC, OFFSTAGE: 

TWIRLS ACROSS THE STAGE Poetry Poetry Poetry.

JACE: 

Hello there. 

CLARY: 

OMG, hot blond murderer. You’re stalking me. That’s not suspicious.

JACE: 

I’m a Shadowhunter, which means I kill demons. You can see me, which means you have the Sight and need to come with me.

CLARY: 

I’d love to but— STANDS AND DASHES AWAY WHILE PHONE RINGING 

CLARY:

TO AUDIENCE Hold that thought. What? Mom? Don’t come home? Tell Luke that “he” found you? Who’s “he”? Mom?

SIMON: 

JOINING HER Clary, we should go find Luke and not go home.

CLARY: 

Let’s go home.

SIMON: 

Okay.

JACE: 

STILL SITTING Okay bye. Just shattered your world view and told you about a whole secret universe, but go off I guess.

EXT. FRAY HOUSEHOLD

CLARY: 

My home is shattered and my mom is gone!

DEMON:

Demon Noises.

CLARY: 

AHHHHH!!! Stab Stab Stab! SLOWLY FALLING BACKWARDS ONTO GROUND

JACE: 

LURKING WITH ARMS CROSSED Wow. Good work killing a demon.

CLARY: 

ON GROUND You followed me again? I guess I’ll trust you over my best friend of ten years.

JACE: 

KNEELING Great. But you’re dying. I will heal you with my magic wand that will kill you if you aren’t a Shadowhunter.

CLARY: 

Wait but I’m not a Shadowhunter—

JACE: 

PRESSING STELE TO NECK Huh it worked. Guess you’re a Shadowhunter.

CLARY: 

That was a lousy experiment.

INT. THE INSTITUTE

CLARY:

We Go To The Institute, Where Like Five People, Three Of Which Are Teenagers, Purge The Biggest City In America Of Demons All By Themselves. We Do Nothing, Then Leave The Institute.

EXT. FRAY HOUSEHOLD

CLARY: 

Let’s go back to my messed up house and find things. Oh my gosh it’s my neighbour Dorothea, who didn’t get kidnapped because the TV show is really weird and full of unnecessary plotlines. 

INT. DOROTHEA’S HOUSE

CLARY:

Dorothea, are you a witch? ‘Cause you are serving witch. Alright, good talk, let’s jump through this mysterious portal that you told us not to jump through.

INT. PORTAL

PORTAL:

Portal Noises.

EXT. LUKE’S HOUSE

CLARY: 

We’re at Luke’s house. Huh. Let’s be super sneaky and HOLY CRAP WE’RE BEING ATTACKED.

SIMON: 

Hi!

JACE: 

Dude why were you in the bushes that’s super weird.

SIMON: 

Says the stalker.

INT. LUKE’S HOUSE

CLARY: 

We’re in. Wait, hide! Somebody's coming. 

JACE: 

The men who killed my father…

CLARY: 

They’re looking for something called the Mortal Cup that my mom stole from Valentine, but Luke says he doesn’t know— wait WHAT?

JACE: 

No further context required… I need to maintain an aura of alluring and brooding mystery. 

SIMON: 

You’re a traumatized sixteen-year-old. Also, why do we all have dead dads?

JACE: 

I’m Batman.

INT. THE INSTITUTE - LIBRARY

HODGE: 

I am Hodge, leader of the Institute. Your mother was a magical Nazi, and your father is dead.

JACE: 

Omg twinning.

CLARY: 

I knew that.

HODGE: 

No, your REAL father. Your mom made up the dead dad. Your real dad was THE magical Nazi, Valentine. Actually all the adults here were once magical Nazis. But we got better. PUTS BANDAID ON FOREHEAD

CLARY: 

Are you sure Valentine’s dead? He seems sort of alive.

HODGE: 

He is definitely totally dead.

CLARY: 

I don’t remember anything about anything. Let’s go to some scary monks and have them break my brain.

SIMON: 

I don’t think that’s a good idea.

JACE: 

Nah it sounds legit.

INT. THE SILENT CITY

SILENT BROTHER: 

ACTOR ONSTAGE BUT VOICE DOESN’T COME FROM MOUTH There is a block in your mind that we cannot remove. But the mysterious person who put it there signed it “Magnus Bane xoxo” so go find him.

ISABELLE: 

Let’s go to a party.

INT. MAGNUS’ PARTY

CLARY: 

Hello, Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn. Please remove the block from my mind.

MAGNUS: 

I can’t, but it will fade naturally. Don’t worry. Also your Jewish friend just turned into a rat. No weird subtext there.

CLARY: 

Holy crap vampires just took Simon the rat.

JACE: 

Let’s rescue him. I hope there are no lasting side effects from this traumatizing voyage.

THEY FIGHT THEIR WAY ACROSS THE STAGE.

INT. THE INSTITUTE

SIMON: 

Wow, I think there were some lasting side effects from that traumatizing voyage. 

CLARY: 

That can wait until book two. Right now it’s my birthday.

JACE: 

Let’s have a picnic in the middle of the night.

CLARY: 

Okay.

JACE: 

Let’s kiss.

CLARY: 

I’m in love with you forever.

SIMON: 

I’m still here, you know.

JACE: 

I’m gonna be really mean to everyone now.

INT. THE INSTITUTE - CLARY’S ROOM

SIMON: 

I hate Jace.

CLARY: 

Why?

SIMON: 

I’m jealous.

CLARY: 

Why? You have Isabelle.

SIMON: 

I don’t want Isabelle.

CLARY: 

Then why do you flirt with her?

SIMON: 

To make you jealous.

CLARY: 

Why would you want to do that?

SIMON: 

Are you genuinely, actually stupid?

CLARY: 

I might be. I’m going to go draw Jace as an angel some more. That’s not foreshadowing anything.

INT. THE INSTITUTE - JACE’S ROOM

CLARY: 

JACE WAKE UP JACE WAKE UP!

JACE: 

What is wrong with you?

CLARY: 

I just made a drawing come out of paper and I think my mom hid the Mortal Cup in Dorothea the witch’s tarot cards.

JACE: 

Cool.

INT. DOROTHEA’S HOUSE

CLARY: 

Yay we got the Mortal Cup and HOLY CRAP DOROTHEA IS A DEMON.

JACE: 

I like tea. Also I don’t like Simon and I’m going to make fun of him.

CLARY: 

You know, most psychologists agree that hostility is really just sublimated sexual attraction.

JACE: 

I’m not gay. Everyone hates me.

ALEC: 

I am gay. I don’t hate you. But I don’t really love you, I just tell myself I do because you’re a safe option because you are unavailable. Also I’m very wounded and slightly delusional right now.

SIMON: 

I just shot a demon to death with arrows as a powerless human but everybody’s still going to underestimate me for the next four books.

INT. THE INSTITUTE - THE LIBRARY

HODGE: 

Thank you for giving me the Mortal Cup. I am still a magical Nazi and I will now give it to our leader, who is not dead.

CLARY: 

Woah, who could have anticipated that plot twist? 

EXT. ALLEYWAY

CLARY:

I’m going to chase Hodge down this alleyway and goodness gracious me who could have predicted that a grown man could overpower me, a defenseless fifteen-year-old girl?

LUKE: 

I will save you with my werewolf powers, Clary.

CLARY: 

Luke! You’re a werewolf!

LUKE: 

Go find your mom who I’m in love with while my pack fends off Valentine’s army.

CLARY: 

Okay.

INT. VALENTINE’S BASE - ROOSEVELT ISLAND

VALENTINE: 

Hello, my son.

JACE: 

Dad? You’re not dead?

CLARY: 

Jace, that’s MY evil Nazi dad.

JACE: 

Omg we really are twinning.

VALENTINE: 

Come home with me, son. I love you.

JACE: 

No, you abused me really bad and made me think you were dead. But I’m gonna be indecisive about it for five more books anyway.

VALENTINE: 

Okay. Magic portal activate! 

PORTAL:

Portal Noises

INT. THE INSTITUTE

CLARY: 

Wow great adventure.

JACE: 

Valentine literally has the Mortal Cup and we are siblings. 

CLARY: 

Details. Let’s debate the morality of us dating for the next two books and be inconsistent about who’s for it and who’s against it.

JACE: 

Sounds like a plan.

SIMON: 

Am I the only one who thinks incest is bad?

*WHAT A GREAT FIRST BOOK. YOU COULD MAKE A TV SHOW AND MOVIE OUT OF IT, PROBABLY*

[honeysucklewriting]

Somewhere to Hide

This series are going to be before “Restoring Greatness to Rome” so you will see a change of names i.e it will flip between boyfriend,fiance,and husband. Let me know what you think this is unedited because I’m extremely exhausted so I will edit it in the morning

Stay Frosty

💜Honey

“Y/N” you heard your name being shouted as you saw your best friend walking over, arm around a man

“Connie how have you been?” you asked as she pulled you into a tight hug

“I've been” she laughed, taking a sip of her beer, eyeing the man that was staring at her like she strung the stars that hung in the sky.

“Oh, Y/N meet Eric, Eric my very best friend,” she said, hands shuffling between the two of you “he’s also in the military” she whispered all but vibrating.

“ Air Force pararescue” he said extending his hand

“Army special forces” you said, taking his hand in a firm handshake.

“Where’s you man at?” Connie questioned walking to the cooler that sat by the fire handing you a beer, looking at your phone you saw a new text from Simon saying he was here

“He just pulled up” you say leaving the new couple and making your way around the side of the house to where the wooden gate laid open inviting the guests to the back, on a mission to retrieve your probably confused and lost boyfriend as you made your way to the driveway you saw his car and saw he was leaned against the driver side door looking at his phone, the lack of the skull mask he normally wore was replaced with a normal face mask, his hood pulled up to cover the top of his head, you knew why he did it but still thought it was silly.

“I’m glad you could make it” you smiled as he pushed himself off the car to make his way to your side taking in the outfit you chose to wear, it was nothing to fancy just something to beat the southern summer heat, a pair of denim shorts that covered all but the bottom half of your ass, a tank top, and a red and black flannel that was tied on your waist just in case it got chilly as the night progressed and as you made your way over to him Simon drank in every inch of your appearance from the way you had your hair in its natural beach wave state to the way your boots tapped away on the cement of the driveway. It’s like you hadn’t seen each other in years, when in fact it had been a little over three weeks since you departed from Credenhill

“Wouldn’t miss seeing you for the world” he said as he met you in the middle pulling you into a hug that caught you off guard, it wasn’t that he’s never given you a hug when in fact the day you left he was stood in your temporary living room and held you for what felt like eternity

“Simon it’s been almost three weeks since I left it’s not like I died” you stated pulling the face mask down to plant a small kiss on his lips

“I know” he simply said smiling down at you as he grabbed a handful of you ass in which made you gasp

“Don’t think these shorts leave much to the imagination and that shirt really isn’t covering much” he said as he took the beer from your hand and took a sip making a disgusted face,before pulling his mask up

“What not use to American beers yet?” You questioned playfully messing with the toe tag of his dog tags that had your name on it

“Y/N?” You heard Connie call from the gate

“We’ll LT I guess we best get going,” you said patting his chest and making your way to the backyard but not before you felt a stinging sensation on you left ass cheek

“Ow Simon” you yelled, you knew in the field he was silent and deadly but you didn’t realize it also played a factor in his civilian life as well.

“I thought you got kidnapped” Connie exclaimed being the drama queen she is and as the word left her lips you felt Simon tense

“Connie quit being a drama queen, I’m a big girl I can handle myself” you laughed nervously patting Simon's forearm trying to calm him down without drawing attention to him.

“I know I know,” Connie said, throwing her hands up in a surrender gesture,you watch as her eyes glide almost effortlessly to Simon “ is this him?” She whispered as you nodded slightly knowing she was about to do the one thing Simon absolutely hated

“Connie, before you even try it please don’t hug him he’s not big on hugging” you said in panic watching her deflate, the last person to hug him was you and that’s how you ended up pinned against the wall.

“Well Simon I’m Connie,been friends with Y/N since diapers” she smiled

He just nods saying “ you alright?” In which you almost choke on the last sip of beer,before you went to Credenhill on orders from General Shepard you called Georgia your home and you had for most of your life,so the culture shock was real once you finally settled down.

“I’m grabbing another beer, you want one?” You asked Simon as he nodded watching as you made your way to the cooler that sat by a plastic lawn chair on the open patio, paying very close attention to the way your hips swayed. He wasn’t one to admit it out loud but in the six months you both had been together he made a silent vow to protect you with his life whether it meant in the field or in his everyday life, it’s burned into his mind that day you told him you were going back to the states

“Simon listen I’m heading back home,” you said with a sigh, sitting in the passenger seat staring straight ahead knowing if you looked at him you were going to lose it, to you leaving hurt worse than your first true heartbreak and it felt like you were losing a piece of your soul not only that but felt like you were losing a family that had accepted you with open arms

“And I honestly don’t know when I’ll be back or when we’ll even see each other and I’ve never done long distance but I’m truly the happiest me and it’s because of you.” You gasped still not looking Simon in the eyes because you knew one single glance was all it was gonna take.Simon acted on impulse all but ripping the skull printed balaclava off and claiming your lips with his

“I’m with you until the end of the line, no matter the distance” he said resting his forehead on yours. You saw him for the first time in a state that was rare even to you Vulnerable and that night he ravished you like a man starved of attention.

“Simon?” You called, snapping your fingers in front of him, he didn’t even realised he had mentally checked out and all he had to do was humm response letting you know he was back

“I said we’re heading inside to get the beers coolers empty” you said pointing to the sliding glass door, he nodded in response

“He doesn’t talk much does he,” Connie whispered over your shoulder as she followed behind “thought silent and brooding wasn’t your forte” she giggled handing you a case of Pabst Blue Ribbon and a four pack of desperados as she smiled shyly as you took the beers from her hands “didn’t know what he liked” she said taking the beers from you hand walking outside

“Y/N? You heard a males voice call from the living room

“Stephen?” You turned as a deep fear sets in your chest, he was your high school sweetheart, your abusive ex. It started like any other relationship he was the perfect gentleman but as one year turned to two he started changing staying out late and once you finished basic you found out through Connie he was cheating well had been cheating since you left for basic, and once you confronted him the violence started the beatings, the threats that if you told anyone he would kill you, which is by you decided to take up sniping,making you one of the most deadliest mercenaries the army had to offer while making you one of Shepards most prized soldiers

“ How have you been?” He said inching closer to where you had stood in fear eye’s bouncing for any sign of Simon, eyes catching the warm chocolate irises at the sliding glass door making his way inside just as quietly as he would be if he was on a mission.

“Mate I think it’s best if you leave her alone “ Simons voice low and deadly

“ and just who the fuck are you” Stephen asked turning to square up at Simon but when he turned around he came face to chest with Simon. You needed to escape, eyes darting around for an opening to running you saw someone leaving the bathroom and took that as your wig and made a mad dash for the door immediately turning the lock to make sure you were safe before turning the lights on

“Breathe just breathe, he can’t hurt you he won’t hurt you Simon won’t let that happen” you muttered sliding down the door.

“Y/N?” You heard on the other side of the door not saying anything,the knock on the door made you jump out of your skin

“ I know you’re in here unlock the door” you heard Simon as you reached up to unlock the door.

“And now I need you to move” he said softly through the small crack, you couldn’t find it in yourself to get up only scooting closer to the sink bringing you knees up to your chest looking at the door to see simons denim pants.

“ I don’t want to talk about” you muttered looking up at him seeing he had taken the face mask off.

“And we don't, I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“Mentally or physically?” You questioned

“Whichever one is hurting you the most right now” he said sitting on the ground in front of you, watching intently as you crawled into his lap like a cat in need of attention

“It’s a long story, I’m sure Connie is looking for us and if we stay in here any longer she’s going to think we’re fucking in Here” you laughed hugging his waist burying your head in the crook of his neck placing tiny kisses on his jaw which caused him to chuckle

“Whatever you want princess” he said

“Let’s get going” you said standing up brushing your hands off on the flannel offering your dominant hand to him which he shook his head stating

“With you till the end of the line”

Taglist: @youcallhimcaptainicallhimdaddy

[boys-kissing-boys-ew]

it's a small hell afterall

Go back to AO3 for warnings and tags!

Damien thinks.

He thinks a lot. About his father, his life. He thinks about the church he grew up in, and the lawsuits foretold. He thinks about his mother, disappeared for sin.

He thinks about the time he drank the dark red wine that night she died in the hospital. Too opaque to be true wine. Too thick.

He thinks about the scars that litter his calves and his heel, the way he tries to narrowly avoid any weight but the ball of his feet.

He thinks about men and women, and everything vastly in between and outside of that. He thinks about their marriages, questions why they feel and how. He thinks about the want to have children, and the unrelenting fear to not have.

He thinks about his school. The children within. He thinks about his teachers, and the counselor.

He thinks about Eric Cartman. The fat kid with a poor sense of humor, hand in hand with his worst enemies and best friends all at once.

He thinks about Philip Pirrup. How the boy was kind to him no matter how far their friendship strained between moves. Between court cases. Even throughout foster care. Moves away and moves back.

Philip.

Pip.

What a strange nickname. Damien had always found it foolish. It wasn't the beginning, nor the end. Nothing in the middle. It was all in one. One less syllable.

It had been Pip until 6th grade, when he came back from two years in Florida.

On the first day of school, he had taken a seat next to him.

He didn't wave.

He didn't even look at him.

During the middle of class. Silence.

Interrupted by a small voice, "Hello, Philip."

He was startled hard enough to not even respond for nearly a minute, and when he did, it wasn't another greeting. Rather, "It's good to see you again."

Oh, how he wished he was hearing that voice now.

All the other voices, and not one sounded like him.

They weren't often to argue, they stayed in their lane and had conversations when needed. It was typically small.

But Leo had overstepped a line with Emile, which left Emile shouting at him until Simon came crying.

There were so many people here now.

God, Damien could name at least one hundred.

Leo, Emile, Simon, Will, Zach, Michael...

No, no. Too many. Too much. Too many thoughts.

Damien shook his head, attempting to remove like an etch-a-sketch.

He stared at the carpet, the lines spaced no more than five feet each.

They warped and bended as he stared at the unmoving ground, shuttering and shoving beneath him.

He looked up at the ceiling, the unimaginable amount of bugs making even his stomach churn as they came in and out of the ceiling.

The itchiness around his neck, the forceful urge to get himself out of his skin.

His nails sharp and relentless, ripping and prodding at his thin, pale flesh. Torn by the slightest threat of sharpness.

Pain. Pain. Pain.

The slightest sticky warmth of plasma and white blood cells in his nails, then shortly after, thin, light blood caked on the tips of fingers.

Something was in him.

Something needed to get out.

Someone was yelling for him, someone that wasn't as far in his mind as he was.

No one screamed at Leo for anything, or Emile for anything. No crying children.

No, the voice that called could touch the walls. Inspect the clean ceiling and the still carpet. The voice that never intruded his mind past 2:52 PM. Never on the weekends. Only talking to him at 7:48 AM on weekdays.

This voice never followed him home, never screamed. Never cut, never broke and ripped and tore. Never searched for things that were gone.

This voice...

God, he was so happy to hear that voice.

"Damien,"

God, he could hear that name a million times from those lips. He would love to hear it said in a scold. Whispered to him in the morning. Screamed at night. Repeated over and over until no names were said at all. Sobbed. Begged. The last word he would hear. All from those lips.

All from this boy.

He wanted it all. His first, his last. His everything. His in between.

"Damien, hey, hey, hey,"

Hi. He wanted to respond with a wave and a reserved smile, a pained, inexperienced expression towards his gapped teeth, towards his round nose, his freckles, his strawberry blonde hair cut into that God-awful bowlcut.

"It's okay,"

Damien knew it wasn't. He wasn't in his arms. Wasn't at his wedding. Wasn't married. They were just friends. It's not okay, it's not okay. Nothing will be okay.

"Hey, breathe,"

God, how he wished he needed that instruction. He wished he needed to be told, as if it weren't automated. He wished he could stop.

Something was touching him.

Something was touching him.

And oh God, the warmth. The painful pin and needle feeling of human contact. The burning, blistering feeling of knowing that someone was touching you. Willing to touch you. Not too disgusting to have otherwise.

"Damien, Love..."

He opened his eyes.

That strawberry blonde was kneeled down before him, still tall and thin and dorky as ever.

"There you are..." He sighed.

His smile was gone. That beautiful, wretched smile. He did this. He messed up, again. All again. It's bad again. It's happening again.

Philip's silhouette gets blurry around the edges, and for a split second, Damien can swear he sees blood caked on his lips and cheeks.

"You're–"

Philip opens his arms.

"Hh?"

"Would a hug help?"

That horrible burn was back. It soaked through his flannel, his stomach. It made tears pool in his eyes and his gag reflex stutter.

"Oh, poor boy..." Philip says quietly, "Oh, I know..."

Damien hadn't realised he was bawling until he heard a choked sob from himself.

"Phil," He sobbed, gripping to the flap of his dress shirt. Not high enough to be his collar, but not low enough to indicate something that he wasn't sure he'd ever be ready for.

"Hello, Baby..." He cooed down at him, gently stroking his dark hair. It had been at least a fortnight since wash, yet Philip didn't seem to mind. He never seemed to mind.

Damien's head pounded. He couldn't sleep, though. What about the bugs? If they're on the ceiling, and his skin is crawling, then who's to say?

He had never disliked bugs. He just detest groups of them.

"It's alright," He soothes, allowing his head to rest on his collar. "Nobody's gonna hurt you."

A cold cloth is pressed to the wound on his neck, and he immediately feels his anxiety prick as he remembers the fact that Philip now carries around a first aid kit because of his doing.

"Can you tell me what you see?"

Damien glances over his shoulder, eyeing the familiar hallway.

"Bugs," He whimpers, clutching onto the fabric harder. He felt a zing on his finger, looking down to see that he was sinking his teeth into the knuckle of his pointer.

"Can you tell me if they're real or not?"

This was an exercise that Mackey had taught them, back when Damien had been diagnosed. Philip wanted nothing more in this world but to help him cope.

Damien hesitates.

"Can you remember if they're there normally?" Philip tries.

"They're...not." Damien settles, burrying his face back. "They're fake."

"Good job, Baby..." Philip congratulates, "Good job. You're doing so well for me."

That voice.

"Thanks," Damien whispers.

"Not a problem at all!"

He shakes his head, and he can feel the newly applied bandages on the nape crinkle and pull at the baby hairs. "Pulled from class."

The boy laughs, a sound and feeling that Damien would pay millions to hold on to. "And I enjoyed being in the same room as Garrison and Cartman? No thank you, Kind Sir!"

Damien could feel a giggle bubble up in his diaphragm, lightly vibrating throughout his body.

"Anyway, what a douche I'd be to receive two texts from seperate kids and not come to check on you?"

"Hmn?" Damien hummed, curious.

"Oh, well, technically three. First was Tweek and Craig. Craig phoned be about it. Tweek was on one of them ol' 'brain breaks'. The next was Marj, who had gone to the loo and seen you on the way."

Damien nods.

"Speaking of; I'm supposed to be at the loo right now, as far as Garrison knows."

His heart beats twice as fast.

"Hey, hey, 's alright. You're alright." He soothes, "I think we can call my mum and set up a sleepover for tonight. How's that sound?"

"Y' sure?"

Philip nods, pulling away to look Damien in the eyes.

"Let's go call in 'sick.'"

And so they left, hands intertwined.

[kazoo-world]

“This scene was cut from the original script, but I find it to be quite a pivotal one. It’s the first time Goncharov turns on Katya openly and violently, remarkably bloodless compared to the preceding fish market gun fight, but Goncharov bleeds profusely at Katya’s words here perhaps more than anywhere else. At this point in the film, we still have yet to see our titular character’s face, his visage always obscured in a cloud of smoke or behind a tilted hat, his embodied identity purposefully kept from us. More than anything though, we learn about Katya—the most we ever do in fact. This is the only chink in her perfect innocent story, never elaborated upon further.”

- Simone Gautieau, New York Times columnist, Goncharov: A Cult of Unpersonality (2024)

“THE MONEY” SCENE 17.

Rain comes down on Naples hard. The sky is grey and dim, visible from the dilapidated paneled window of an old house. A clock ticks, it is the deep thrum of a grandfather clock’s pendulum swinging from side to side.

Gnossienne no. 1 by Eric Satie fades in as we zoom out to see more of the room. The plaster is cracked and falling away. KATYA is playing at a grand piano situated by the window, facing the viewer. Her lipstick is blood red, her eyebrows furrowed gently in concentration. Her playing is emotive but she does not move with the music, it does not reach her eyes.

The music abruptly stops, leaving only the sound of the clock and the rain. KATYA looks up, and her blue eyes are clouded with annoyance.

KATYA: svolach, are you even listening?

The wooden floor creaks. CUT to polished leather shoes. CUT to a man’s mouth, his pencil thin mustache, puffing out cigarette smoke. We don’t see his eyes.

CUT to KATYA, looking down on her from GONCHAROV’s perspective. She wraps her fur stole closer around her neck and glares.

GONCHAROV: Of course I am. What gave you the impression I wasn’t?

KATYA: You can keep secrets, but I’m not a mail order bride. I know you’re lying.

GONCHAROV immediately interrupts before she can finish.

GONCHAROV: I never lie.

KATYA: We both know that’s not true. Where did you get the money from?

GONCHAROV: Found it on the street. A lucky game of cards. What answer will you accept?

The clock ticks. KATYA looks down and resumes playing, CUT to her hands on the keys, the light glinting off of her diamond engagement ring. The stone is oversized for her hand.

KATYA sighs.

CUT to KATYA’s face. She stares blankly at GONCHAROV, the face of the grandfather clock reflected in her eyes.

KATYA: You could have just told me you didn’t want children.

GONCHAROV: It didn’t seem relevant at the time.

KATYA: You knew I wanted them.

KATYA raises her voice but her tone is void of real anger.

KATYA: You and your pathetic limp dick, you care for no one but yourself, do you?

GONCHAROV: Settle down.

A beat.

KATYA: I lied. I don’t want children. I never wanted children. How does that feel?

GONCHAROV leans on the piano, knocking ash onto the polished black surface.

GONCHAROV: I told you already, Katya, I never lie.

KATYA: Well, I do.

GONCHAROV: You don’t. You’re telling me everything. Where the money is that you took, where you’ve been sneaking off to. You think I don’t know? It’s in your face.

GONCHAROV picks up Katya’s chin, smearing her lipstick with his finger.

KATYA: You think I do?

GONCHAROV: I know your father was family. I know you’re not dumb.

KATYA: I’ll spit on your grave before I tell you anything.

KATYA wrenches her face from his grip, but his hold tightens, forcing her back to look at him.

GONCHAROV: I’d rather keep things simple.

KATYA: And I’d rather have children.

GONCHAROV lets her go with a twist of his wrist.

CUT to the piano keys where GONCHAROV puts out his cigarette. GONCHAROV clears his throat, cracking a knuckle, pulling the piano lid abruptly over her fingers. The clock stops. KATYA hisses and swears in Russian under her breath at the pain.

GONCHAROV: You play well enough.

KATYA pushes the lid back and finishes the song, the last note hardly satisfactory to any party. She looks GONCHAROV square in the eyes.

KATYA: The money’s gone.

GONCHAROV: Where?

KATYA: Lost it in the street. An unlucky game of cards. What answer will you accept?

GONCHAROV leaves, and KATYA starts the song again. The clock ticks, time droning on and on. It never stops for long.

[newstfionline]

Tuesday, January 17, 2023

Business trusted most in a more polarized world, report says (AP) People worldwide are more gloomy about their economic prospects than ever before and trust business far more than other institutions like governments, nonprofits and the media in an increasingly divided world, according to a survey from public relations firm Edelman. Released late Sunday to coincide with the World Economic Forum’s gathering of business elites and government leaders this week in Davos, Switzerland, the online survey conducted in 28 countries shows that fewer people believe their family will be better off in five years. Those who believe they’ll be better off dropped to 40% from 50% last year and hit all-time lows in 24 nations. That is because 89% fear losing their job, 74% worry about inflation, 76% are concerned about climate change and 72% worry about nuclear war. The Edelman Trust Barometer also says 62% of respondents see business as both competent and ethical, compared with 59% for nongovernmental agencies, 51% for governments and 50% for the media.

In tornado-ravaged Selma, prayers of thanks (AP) Leading Sunday services on the lawn outside his tornado-damaged Crosspoint Christian Church, the Rev. David Nichols told his congregation there was much for which to be grateful despite the destruction around them. The tornado that ravaged Selma hit the church’s daycare. It destroyed much of the building, collapsing walls and leaving piles of rubble in some of the classrooms, but the 70 children and teachers who huddled inside bathrooms were unharmed. “Nothing but by the grace of God that they walked out of there,” Nichols said as he looked at the building. The Sunday after a tornado devastated much of the historic city of Selma, church congregations raised up prayers of gratitude for lives spared and gave prayers of comfort for lives lost elsewhere to the storm.

New York Mayor says “no room” in his city for migrants (Reuters) The mayor of New York traveled to the Mexican border city of El Paso on Sunday and declared that “there is no room in New York” for busloads of migrants being sent to America’s most populous city. Eric Adams, a Democrat, was also critical of the administration of Democratic U.S. President Joe Biden, saying “now is the time for the national government to do its job” about the immigrant crisis at America’s southern border. The visit of a New York mayor to a southern border city about the issue of immigrants is unprecedented. Busloads of migrants have been shipped north to New York and other cities by Republican run states. That has exacerbated a housing crisis in New York and a worsening homeless crisis in the city. Adams’s trip to El Paso comes after he said the migrant influx into New York could cost the city as much as $2 billion, at a time when the city is already facing a major budget shortfall.

UK faces further disruption as teachers set to announce strike action (Reuters) Teachers in England and Wales are set to announce strike action later on Monday, joining nurses, rail workers and others in staging industrial action in a further headache for Prime Minister Rishi Sunak’s government. Sunak is coming under increasing pressure to try to resolve pay disputes with hundreds of thousands of workers following months of strikes which have caused widespread disruption. With inflation running at more than 10%, workers from multiple sectors are demanding higher wages. The NEU said the government had offered its members a 5% pay rise which it says equates to a pay cut due to spiralling prices. Low pay for teachers has also pushed many to leave the profession, the union said.

Dwindling Snow Leaves Swiss Alpine Villages Staring at an Identity Crisis (NYT) It was the last thing Simon Bissig, a ski resort director, wanted to see as he trudged into the Swiss Alps guesthouse on a January day. The bright wooden lodge should have been crowded with parents sipping hot drinks as they cheered on children gliding down the slopes. Instead, it was empty, and in place of frosty windows, the panes were lashed with rain. Where guests would have dined, an unlikely crisis session was being held. Marketing advisers reviewed plans for what had become a gnawing, existential question: What could be done with a ski resort without enough snow? As the planet warms, Europe has faced a bruising year of climate crises. In the summer, many regions suffered severe drought and record heat. Already this year, some areas have seen the highest-recorded winter temperatures—so warm that many ski resorts could not even make snow. For Switzerland, whose glaciers and snowpack form a crucial storehouse for European water supplies, the effect has been especially alarming. The country is warming at more than double the rate of the global mean and its glaciers lost 6 percent of their volume in the last year alone, according to Swiss federal authorities and a glacier monitoring group. The changes pose a risk to some parts of a Swiss ski industry that by some estimates generates around $5.5 billion a year.

Thousands turn out to bid farewell to Greece’s former king (AP) Thousands of people lined up since before dawn on Monday outside Athens’ cathedral to pay their final respects to Greece’s former and last king, Constantine, who died last week at the age of 82. Greece’s monarchy was definitively abolished in a referendum in 1974, and Constantine spent decades in exile, living mainly in London, before returning to settle in his home country once more in his waning years. The government announced after his death that Constantine would be buried as a private citizen, without honors reserved for former heads of state, in Tatoi, the former royal estate north of Athens, next to where his parents and ancestors are buried. Royals from across Europe, including the Spanish and Danish royal families who were closely related to Constantine, were in Athens to attend the service and burial. Constantine’s wife, Anne-Marie, is the sister of Denmark’s Queen Margrethe II, while his sister Sophia is the wife of Spain’s former King Juan Carlos, and mother of Spain’s current monarch, King Felipe VI.

Aftermath of Russian Strike on Apartments (NYT) More than 24 hours after a heavy-duty missile built to sink ships exploded in a dense Ukrainian cityscape of homes and shops, the lights of emergency workers played across the rubble on Sunday, in search of life. As smoke and dust rose into the Dnipro sky, a light dusting of snow began to accumulate on five victims who had been pulled from the rubble and laid out in body bags in a small grassy area next to the destroyed building. They were five of 30 confirmed killed in a Russian strike on a civilian neighborhood—79 were injured—and at least 30 people remained unaccounted for. “I have no words, I have no emotions, I feel nothing except a great emptiness inside,” one 23-year-old woman, Anastasiia Shvets, wrote on social media. An image of Ms. Shvets from the scene of the attack struck a chord with Ukrainians across the country. It shows a young woman clutching a stuffed animal and a golden Christmas garland as she stands in the ruins and waits to be rescued. Ms. Shvets somehow emerged with only a small head wound and bruises on her legs. But her parents, she wrote on a verified account on Instagram, were still missing. And her partner, who was serving in the Ukrainian military, was killed in action four months ago.

Surviving Yakutsk, the world’s coldest city (Reuters) Temperatures have plunged to minus 50 degrees Celsius (-58 Fahrenheit) this week in Yakutsk during an abnormally long cold snap in the Siberian city known as the coldest on earth. Located 5,000 km (3,100 miles) east of Moscow on the permafrost of the Russian Far East, residents of the mining city often see the thermometer regularly drop well below minus 40. “You can’t fight it. You either adjust and dress accordingly or you suffer,” said Anastasia Gruzdeva, outside in two scarves, two pairs of gloves and multiple hats and hoods. Another resident, Nurgusun Starostina, who sells frozen fish at a market without the need for a fridge or freezer, said there were no special secrets to deal with the cold. “Just dress warmly,” she said. “In layers, like a cabbage!”

Tracking rising religious hatred in India, from half a world away (Washington Post) Raqib Hameed Naik stood in his tidy American kitchen, feeling torn about his secret life. On the one hand, he was safe from the Indian government, and far from the death threats and the late-night knocks on his parents’ door. On the other hand, he was essentially in hiding, working on a scrappy secret data project to track hate crimes in India. Naik, 29, is the founder of HindutvaWatch.org, one of the most robust real-time data sets of human rights abuses in the world’s largest democracy. Using video and picture evidence submitted by a network of Indian activists, along with news aggregation, the site tracks hate crimes by Hindus against Muslims, Christians and members of the lower-ranked castes. Since its founding in April 2021, it has catalogued more than 1,000 instances of violent attacks and rhetoric. (Hindutva refers to political ideology that advocates for Hindu supremacy.) It is likely an undercount, Indian political experts said. Still, the website has angered the increasingly authoritarian government of right-wing Prime Minister Narendra Modi, which critics charge promotes the idea that the Hindu majority is superior and tolerates deadly crimes against Muslims and Christians.

Chinese city dwellers head to hometowns as holidays raise COVID stakes (Reuters) Passengers laden with luggage flocked to rail stations in China’s megacities on Monday, heading to their hometowns for holidays that health experts fear could intensify a raging COVID-19 outbreak in areas less-equipped to handle it. “I haven’t been home for over three years,” a 23-year old Beijing resident surnamed Chen told Reuters as he waited to board a train at the capital’s main rail station. “I am sure I will be very emotional once I reach the doorstep of my home.” More than 2 billion trips across China are expected in the weeks around the holidays, its transport ministry has estimated.

A rocking party, decades on (NYT) On Friday nights, a crowd gathers at a nightclub in Ann Arbor, Mich., to drink, flirt and dance to live rock music. The party’s official name is “Ann Arbor Happy Hour at Live,” but it’s also affectionately known as the “Geezer Dance Party.” That’s because almost the entire crowd is over 65. “I call us the silver tsunami,” said Randy Tessier, a 72-year-old University of Michigan lecturer who organizes the event. “There’s a lot of us, and we still want to rock.” The gathering is the latest version of a musical happy hour that has been happening since the 1970s, and some regulars have been coming for over 50 years. “It is the most wonderful thing in my life,” Maggie Levenstein said. “It makes me happy every single week.”

[youngroyalsrewatch]

blickar och sånt (1/3)

It’s so funny when Felice says she is getting glances and stuff from Wilhelm. Seriously when? Anyway, here are some actual glances and stuff shared between Simon and Wilhelm that say so much with no words. These are my personal favorites.

Blink and you will miss it. The first time Simon sneaks a look at prince Wilhelm. He looks so nervous, poor baby.

Wilhelm turning to Eric after hearing Simon sing. “Are you seeing this too? I didn’t make him up, right?”

Little alcohol in him and Wille is already thinking, “I need this boy under me.”

Whatever genre of romance this look is. 

“Are you as nervous as me? IS there something going on here?”

All of this. But especially Simon turning to Ayub, “Are you seeing this too? I didn’t make him up, right?”

Simon staring at the Wille’s pinky on his knee for full SIX seconds. All the thoughts that must be going through both of their heads.

Silly me thinking I can do this one post. There will be a couple more parts for the next episodes. 

Part 2 here.

Part 3 here.

[elianamarie-blog]

The Things You Give Part 28

IT'S ALMOST FAAAALLLLLLL! I am SO excited, but this chapter still takes place around Christmas and if you know me, I'm a huge Christmas person! I hope you guys like it! It maybe a little short, but I'm trying to make this like how the actual show would go. Tag list is open! (Imagine the gif as reader insert XD)

Y/n stared down at the paper, not able to comprehend what the hell she just read. She couldn’t tell if this was a dream or not. Then, she thought it was a joke. But after she had realized that it was real, her blood was boiling and she was shaking.

“Who would do this?” Kitty asked.

“I think I have an idea,” Hyde said and pointed to the name at the bottom of the article. Below it read the name Y/n never wanted to hear from again.

“Zack,” she quivered and all she could see was red. “I’m going to kill him. I’m actually going to kill him. Mom, you’re a nurse, what’s the best way to dispose a body?”

“I know you’re upset, but there’s no need to resort to felony,” Kitty said.

“Nope, nope,” Y/n huffed, walking away with her hands on her hips. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to hunt him down like a dog and I’m going to do things to him that Dad did to the Koreans during the war.” She looked up at her mother and husband. “I look good in orange; I can pull it off.”

“Y/n, you need to—” Hyde began but was cut off by his wife.

“I knew this wasn’t the end when we last saw him,” she continued, adrenaline pumping through her veins. “I don’t know what he has against me, but I’m going to make that son of a bitch pay.”

“It maybe something he has against us actually,” Steven said slowly.

“You know what it could be?” she asked, ignoring him. “It could be because I humiliated him in front of you guys a few months back. Yeah, that’s it. Now he’s trying to get back at me.”

“Or both of us,” Hyde repeated, this time catching her attention.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I wasn’t going to tell you this, but Kelso, Forman, Fez, and I ran into Zack at the bachelor party.”

Her face hardened and her eyes grew cold. “What?” she spit.

“It’s not like we went looking for him,” he continued. “We were at the bar and he and his dillhole friends showed up and started giving us crap. Then he mentioned you and I snapped.”

“Is that why you were in jail?!”

“Partially. After we got thrown out, they jumped us on the street then they bolted when the cops came.”

Y/n’s glare could burn a hole through the wall. “And why didn’t you tell me?” she asked calmly, too calm.

“Because I didn’t want to upset you…and by the look on your face that clearly didn’t work.”

“Ya think?!”

“Y/n, honey, you need to calm down,” Kitty said gently. “You need to watch your stress level; it’s not good for the babies.”

“I’ll calm down after I’m through with him,” Y/n said and turned back to her husband. “We’ll talk later. Right now, I have someone I need to go take care of.” With that, she snatched the paper out of Kitty’s hands and stomped out the basement, slamming the door behind her.

“You ran into Zack and you didn’t tell her?” Kitty asked, popping a hand on her hip. “And you didn’t even win?!”

“Yeah, that was a bummer for me too,” Hyde replied and trudged upstairs. “I better go after her so that she doesn’t do something stupid.”

“Is it bad that I want to see her kill him?” Fez asked.

“Fez…” Kitty trailed off, shaking her head, but then remembered who it was. “Actually, no…no, it’s not. I want to see that dumbass pay too.”

“Let’s go, then?” Fez asked the group excitedly.

“Let’s go!” Eric answered as everyone hurriedly followed him out the door.

                                               --Time Skip--

“Where is he?!” Y/n roared as she practically barged into the Hub. Everyone inside whipped their heads at her, startled. “Where is Zack?!” She snapped her head to the guy at the counter. “Simon, have you seen him?”

The long haired blond hippie pointed a finger at the men’s room. With fire in her eyes, she stomped over to the door and started pounding on the door with her fists. “Zack! Get out! NOW!” She continued to pound on the door, yelling, until the tall brunet walked out with a smirk on his face.

“Oh, Y/n, what a pleasant surprise,” he purred, leaning into the door frame. “What do I owe this pleasure to?”

“You know exactly what this is about, you jackass,” she spat. “What the HELL is wrong with you?! Why can’t you just leave me alone?!”

He cocked his head to the side mockingly. “I don’t what you’re talking about.”

“This, you son of a bitch!” she screeched and threw the paper at his head. He ducked as the paper hit the bathroom door with a loud thud. “I don’t know what the hell I did to make you hate me so damn much, but this crap ends now!”

“Hey, hey, hey calm down,” he said gently, pretending to care. “You need to calm down so that you won’t hurt the baby.”

“How did you find out?” she asked, her voice dangerously low.

“It’s a small town; people talk.”

“And yet you felt the need to put it in the paper.”

“Oh, but it’s such juicy gossip, I just had to.”

“Or you can just mind your own freaking business. This doesn’t concern you.”

At this point, the gang had shuffled through the door, eager to watch the show.

“Yeah? Or what?” He smirked and looked down at her, crossing his arms. “You’re pregnant, not like you can do much.”

She didn’t respond, but angrily glare at him. Before she could think, she drew her leg back and swung it straight into his crotch. The group cringed outwardly as Zack whimpered and fell to his knees.

“That,” Y/n spit as she looked down at him. She watched with satisfaction as he fought to breathe.

“You…bitch,” he breathed through gritted teeth.

“What’s it going to take for you to get the hint, huh?!” she yelled at him, drawing more attention to them. “I want nothing to do with you! If anything, I should be making your life a living hell after what you did to me.”

Zack couldn’t speak as he was too busy holding his nads and breathing through the pain.

“Why did you do this?” she demanded. “This isn’t high school anymore; you’re never going to relive your glory days ever again. When you get out into the real world, no one gives a crap about who you were in high school. Face it, buddy, you’ve peaked.”

“Have…not…” he continued to breathe.

“You’re never going to be the star of the show ever again. You screwed that up when you got kicked out of your university. Congrats on that, by the way.” She knelt to his level, inches away from his face. “If I ever, ever see you again or hear you being near my husband or my friends, you’re going to be waking up in a hospital bed. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yeah?” Zack let out a breathy laugh and stood himself up to his knees. “What are you going—”

Before she gave him a chance to finish his sentence, she pulled her fist back and delivered a hard blow to the side of his face. Zack let out a pained wail as he hit the dirty floor.

“You want to keep going?!” she screamed.

“What the hell?!” He slowly got up again, holding his face.

“Keep at it, and the next time I see you, it’ll be my foot in your ass!” She turned to leave, but before she did, she delivered another hard blow to his face. Once again, he let out a screech and fell to the floor, but this time stayed down. “And that is for my husband!”

The room was in stunned silence as they watched Y/n walk out the building.

“Holy crap!” Donna cheered once she walked out the building. “Y/n, that was amazing!”

“Thanks,” Y/n said, waving her sore hand. “You know hitting someone hurts more than it looks.”

“Yeah, I know,” Hyde said. “I can’t believe you actually did that. You totally kicked his ass!”

“Yeah…it feels kinda good,” she admitted sheepishly.

“I’m so proud of, honey!” Kitty giggled. “For a minute there, I saw your father.”

“My girl’s a scrapper!” Steven cried out excited, slapping his fast into his palm.

“Awe, thanks, baby,” she cooed before giving him a kiss. “Now, about you and Zack…”

“Yeah, about that; I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t think it would be a good idea to add more stress onto you and—”

“Steven—"

“And I don’t think it would’ve made a difference—”

“Steven—”

“And I didn’t want you to think that—”

“Steven! Shut up for a minute and let me talk.” He closed his mouth and nodded. “What happened, happened,” she began. “We can’t change that, but I only wanted you to tell me because I wanted to do that sooner.” She motioned toward Zack who was ambling out of the diner, hunched over in pain.

Hyde chuckled. “Well, now maybe he learned his lesson not to mess with a pregnant Forman girl.”

“Hyde,” she corrected and smiled at him. “He learned not to mess with a pregnant Hyde girl.”

“Aweeee,” the group cooed.

“Are you still here?!” Steven snapped, making Y/n laugh.

“C’mon, let’s go home,” she offered, extending her hand to him. “I don’t know about you, but I’m freezing my ass off.”

“Yeah, let’s go.” He accepted her hand as they made their way to the cars.

“Can we get hot chocolate on the way home?” Fez asked as they piled into the vehicles.

                                                 --Time Skip—

“I can’t believe you came back, Teddy!” Annalyn cried out in joy. “I knew you would!”

She hugged the little bear that had come to life to meet her there on the snowy Christmas Eve. It wordlessly looked at her and touched his nose to her cheek, kissing her.

“I love you too, Teddy!” she squealed.

“What do we have here?” her mother asked, coming to the front door and looked down at her daughter. “Where did this come from?”

"He was at the door, waiting for me, Mom! He came for me!”

The tired woman knitted her brows together. “I wonder who could’ve possibly dropped it off? Was there a note?”

Annalyn nodded, handing a piece of white paper to her and clung Teddy to her chest.

“Have a Merry Christmas. Mr. C.,” her mother read aloud and felt something she hadn’t felt all Christmas long. “I can’t believe Dennis did this.”

"It wasn’t Dennis, Mom! It was Santa!”

She smiled kindly at her daughter. “Sure, baby, it was Santa.”

“Oh, Mom, before I forget,” the young squealed and hugged her mom around the waist. “Tell him yes.”

“What?”

“Say ‘yes’ to Dennis!”

“What do you—”

“I’m not supposed to tell you, but Santa told me your gift from Dennis. Say ‘yes’ Mom!”

She was speechless, but nodded her head. “I’ll talk to Dennis when he comes over tomorrow.”

Annalyn squealed with delight and turned to her stuffed friend. “Can you believe it, Teddy? I get you and a dad!” She hugged the bear tightly again. “Best Christmas ever!”

As she turned to walk away, Teddy faced her mother and winked at her. Her mother stood there completely stunned as she had just seen the truth Annalyn had been talking about the entire time.

Y/n sat on the couch, sniffling and wiping her nose as Steven sat beside her with a puzzled and disgusted look.

“You actually like this crap?” he asked.

“It’s not crap, it’s sweet!” Y/n croaked and blew her nose. “It’s a heartwarming Christmas movie.”

“Y/n, it’s crap,” he repeated.

“Okay, Grinch, what kind of movies do you like?”

“You know I’m not really into things like that,” he responded. “Or the holidays in general.”

“Is it because of your mom?”

“Everything wrong with me is because of my mom,” he retorted.

“Well, like I’ve said, she’s not around anymore,” Y/n responded and laid a hand against his chest. “You can start to enjoy things that you couldn’t as a kid. And one of them being holidays.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he said and placed a hand over hers. “I guess with the twins on the way, I can start to enjoy things like that.”

“Yeah,” she answered gently, giving him a wide smile. As she leaned up to give him a kiss, there was a knock at the door.

Hyde checked his watch that showed to be past 9pm. “Who the hell is here at this hour?” He got up and walked to the door, answering it.

There, stood Edna Hyde once more. “Hi, Steven.”

“Ah, crap.”

                                              --Time Skip--

“I don’t know where to live,” Fez whined as he chewed on his drink’s straw. “My foster overly religious-pieces-of-crap foster parents kicked me out. Where the hell am I supposed to live?” He sat at a booth at the Hub with Kelso and Donna while agonizing over a newspaper with local listings.

“Yeah, me neither,” Kelso chimed in. “I can’t stay at my parents’ house anymore. I need a private area where I can raise my daughter."

“Understandable,” Fez said, nodding and turned back to the newspaper. “Man, there is nothing! It’s like I need a roommate or something.”

“Yeah, same,” Kelso muttered, balling up the paper from the straw.

“Well, I hope you find someone,” Fez said.

“You too, buddy,” Kelso said.

Donna looked between the two of them. “Or,” she started and leaned forward in her seat. “You two can, I don’t know, room together?”

The two men looked at each other.

“Hey, that’s a great idea!” Fez said.

“Why didn’t we think of that?!” Kelso asked.

“You’re welcome,” Donna said, leaning back in her chair.

“We should go tomorrow and check some out,” Kelso said. “We can find a nice place!”

“With a pool!” Fez said excitedly. “We can meet some girls there.”

"Yeah, that’s right, buddy. We can bring Betsy too. She’s a chick magnet.”

“Two guys and a baby? We’ll be the hottest ones there!”

“That’s not how I would put it,” Donna said, smirking.

“What do you mean?” Kelso asked.

“I wouldn’t think that two guys with a baby would make them available to women if you know what I mean,” she responded.

The two men looked at her confused.

“Oh, for the love of—they wouldn’t  be into you because they’d think you’re into each other!”

“Oh,” Kelso responded, it daunting on him. “Well, we don’t want that.”

“No, no,” Fez said. “We can take turns!”

“Are you asking to borrow my baby to pick up chicks?” Kelso asked, offended.

“Oh, yeah, you’re right. Sorry,” Fez said.

“No, that’s totally awesome!” Kelso said and high fived Fez, laughing. “We’re gonna get so laid!”

Donna groaned and hid her face in her hand. “Oh, my God.”

                                             --Time Skip--

“What the hell are you doing here?” Hyde asked, irritated. “I told you to never come here.”

“I wanted to hash out our problems,” Edna replied and let herself in. “I think I’m owed that.”

“You’re not owed anything,” he spat. “You don’t get to come here when you were never around. And come in by the way.”

“Come on, Steven. Let’s talk,” Edna said, closing the door.

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“Good. You can just listen.

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“God, you’re just as stubborn as me. You know what they say, ‘Like mother, like son.’”

“Don’t do that!” Steven said harshly and pointed a finger at her. “Don’t compare me to you. I am nothing like you!”

“Hey, come on, can’t we talk about this like civilized adults?” she asked coolly. Too coolly.

“I don’t need to hear you play victim and give me excuses as to why you were a crap mom.”

“Oh, ouch. That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?”

“No. In fact, I think that’s the nicer way of putting it.

“Look, Steven, I want to be a part of these kids’ lives.”

“Absolutely not,” he said curtly. “You’re not going to mess up my kids the same way you did to me.”

“Would it help if I apologized?”

Her questions surprised him. It’s like the gears in his brain stopped as he heard her say something she has never said before. “W-would it help if-if you what?!”

“Apologized. Look, Steven,” she began and took a hesitant step toward him. “I know I wasn’t a good mom to you and I…am sorry, but I want to make it up to you by being a good grandma to your children.”

He glared at her coldly. “Apologize for what?”

“Well, for everything.”

“No, that doesn’t mean anything to me unless you apologize for all the crap that you put me through!”

“I’m sorry for all the crap I put you through,” she repeated, rolling her eyes. “There, are you happy?”

He stared at her in disbelief. “Am I happy? Hell, no I’m not happy! You really messed up my childhood and I’m not about to let you do the same to my kids. I don’t know you even care as much! If you didn’t care about me, what in the hell makes you think you’re going to care about the kids?”

“Well, I see how successful you’ve become working with your dad and I wanted to watch you become the parent I could never be.”

The air in the room dropped to deathly silent, Hyde realizing what this was about. “This is about money, isn’t it?"

“It’s not about you or your money,” she said sharply. “This about me and my future grandchildren.”

“Nah, I know you,” he responded. “You want something. Are you using me to get to W.B?”  

“Now, what makes you think that?”

            “You’ve never given me a reason not to,” he spat. “I find it odd that you’re back after a couple months of seeing him and just want to suddenly be better. What—your last boyfriend just dumped you and you have no means of paying the bills? Or you owe money to”

“That’s not fair, Steven.”

“You want to talk to me about fair?!” he started to raise his voice, attracting Red and Kitty’s attention. Y/n sat there, frozen. “Everything you ever did to me wasn’t fair! I already told you everything I needed to and I shouldn’t have to repeat myself. So, get out.”

“Steven, come on—”

“No, you don’t get to decide when to come back into my life,” he snapped. “I decide when you can and right now, you’re looking at never. Get. Out.”

“But, I just want to—”

“He said get out,” Red said sternly from the stairs. “If you don’t want to be escorted by the police, you better do what he says.”

“Oh, I’m sure that won’t be a problem,” Steven said. “She’s on a first name basis with them.”

Edna’s eyes never left Steven’s cold ones. “Fine. But you’ll see me again.”

Steven set his jaw. “And what a horrible day that will be.”

“It won’t be fun for me either, boy,” she hissed.

“Edna, that’s enough,” Y/n cut in, standing between in front of her husband. “Leave, or I’ll make you leave.”

Edna snorted. “You’re cute. I can’t wait to spend more time with you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Why don’t you do what you do best and leave?”

“Oh, ouch. I have to admit, that one hurt my feelings a little bit.”

“Yeah, if you had feelings,” Steven said.

Edna snorted again. “Bye, Steven. I’ll see you later.”

“No, you won’t,” he responded and pushed her out of the door, slamming it shut. Once she was gone, he ran a hand down his face. “Son of a bitch.”

“Are you okay?” Y/n asked, comfortingly rubbing his back.

“No,” he replied and walked down the step to the couch. “She’s the most repulsive human being I’ve known…and I dated Jackie!”

“She only does that to get under your skin,” his wife responded and sat next to him.

“She does it because she wants something from me,” he said. “She heard about W.B having money, and now she thinks we do. Well, let me tell you this: I’m not giving her a damn dime.”

“As you shouldn’t,” Red boomed from the stairs and lazily trotted down to meet them in the living room. “Every single penny that you make will be going towards you and your family. You owe her nothing.”

“Exactly,” Y/n agreed and wrapped her hands around Steven’s. “Don’t let her get to you. By being upset means that she's winning. She doesn't deserve that.”

“Okay, Hallmark,” Steven chuckled and ran his hand up her arm, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Thank you.”

Y/n smiled and kissed his cheek. “You’re welcome.”

“Well, now that’s sorted out, I made eggnog and cookies,” Kitty announced excitedly. “Who wants some?”

“I’ll take some cookies!” Y/n jumped up from the couch.

“Y/n, you just ate an entire bowl of candy,” Steven pointed out.

She started at him blankly. “What’s your point?”

                                                --Time Skip—

Christmas Day….

The outside world was peacefully quiet; the birds didn’t sing as they snuggled to each other to keep it warm. The sun hid behind grayed clouds where the whitest snow of the years gently drifted to the ground, making Point Place look like a Winter Wonderland.

The Forman and Hyde—and Fez—household laid comfortably in their warm beds. For the first time in a long time, everything was peaceful and quiet, a state that they all haven’t felt in a long time. And that was the only Christmas gift they could all ask for.

Y/n stirred gently in her sleep, her eyes peeling open. She peaked at her clock beside her and it read 6:48am. She turned to her side to her handsome, sleeping husband; his breathing slow and deep. He looked younger when he slept, his lashes danced along his cheekbones and while his tousled curls rested against forehead.

“Why are you staring at me?” he asked deeply, his voice groggy.

“I can’t help it. You’re just so good looking,” she responded and combed her fingers through his hair before brushing it down to the side of his face, scratching his sideburns. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” he grunted and scooted closer, pulling her closer to his chest—well, as close as he could without her baby bump getting too squished. “You’re belly got bigger.”

“Thanks. Maybe I should’ve played Santa at the mall this year,” she grumbled.

He chuckled. “Nah, you’re way too hot for that.”

She laughed quietly and pecked his nose. “At least there’s that.”

He smiled back at her as his eyelids drifted closed. “What time is it?” he whispered.

She yawned. “Almost seven.”

“Should we get up?”

“Let’s just stay here for a little while,” she responded. “Before everyone wakes up.”

"Sounds good,” he grumbled, falling asleep again.

As Y/n snuggled into her husband’s side, their bedroom door flew open.

“MERRY CHRISTMAS!” Kitty bellowed. “Get up, get up! Santa came by!”

The couple groaned in unison as they pulled apart, rolling onto their backs.

“Mom, please, it’s too early for this,” Elena groaned, rubbing her eyes.

“Yeah, well, get used to it,” Kitty responded. “It’s going to be worse when your kids are here.”

“Yeah, let us enjoy this last year,” Steven said, pulling a pillow onto his face.

“Nope! Get up!” Kitty squeaked. “Be downstairs in five minutes to open presents!” She closed the door behind her as she walked into Eric’s room.

“You know, we can just lock the door,” Steven offered.

“You really want to do that and deal with an angry Kitty later?” Y/n warned.

“I mean, come on, we’re adults, I’m sure she won’t—”

In the distance behind their closed door, they heard from Eric’s room, “MERRY CHRISTMAS!”

“MOM!”

                                             40 minutes later…

“Wow…another rain coat,” Eric’s faux enthusiasm filled the room.

The living room was littered with empty boxes and unwrapped gifts. Red sat in his usual chair, Eric and Kitty on the couch, Y/n and Steven sat on the floor by the piano and Fez sat in front of the coffee table.

The gifts were almost completely opened, everyone getting a few presents each; even Fez got a few things from his friends and Kitty. A leather jacket, some records, and some cash. Not to mention a bag full of his favorite sweets. The smile on his face said his appreciation.

“I know you wanted one,” Kitty said proudly. “I even put rocks to distract you. And see the suede of the jacket? It’ll keep you warm indefinitely.”

“Wow…thanks, Mom,” he said and put the jacket back in the box. “I’ll make sure to add this to my collection of the other raincoats.”

“Okay, okay, now open my gift!” Y/n said excitedly and handed him her gift. A decent sized, heavy gift.

He picked it up, surprised at its weight. “I swear to God, if it’s another box with rocks—”

“Just open it!” Y/n said, giddy.

Eric sighed through his nose as he began to unwrap it. “Wow! A box!” he shouted sarcastically. "Just like I've always wanted!"

"Shut up, Forman and open the damn present,” Hyde said impatiently.

Eric chuckled as he opened the box. “Oh, wow! Star Wars blankets. Thanks, guys,” Eric said calmly and appreciatively. “Very nice. But did you really have to go Mom’s route and put rocks in it?”

“The blankets are wrapped in something,” Y/n said, smiling.

His eyebrows knit together as unfolded the blankets. Under the blankets, was a brand new gaming console: The Atari 2600. “Oh, my God!” he shouted. “I can’t believe you bought this for me! How did you know that I wanted it?!”

“Call it twin telepathy,” Y/n responded, laughing. “Also, you may have only mentioned it a thousand times.”

“Thank you, guys, this gift is really awesome,” Eric said as Fez ‘oohed’ the gift.

“Here, I got you something too,” Eric said and reached behind the couple to their gift. “It’s for the both of you.”

It was a small, light box. “Is it a book? Feels like a book,” Y/n said as she ripped the paper open. Inside was a book and another small gift wrapped. “What To Expect When You’re Expecting,” Y/n read aloud.

“Yeah, I heard a lot of expecting parents like to read this sort of stuff to prepare for their babies,” Eric said.

“Oh, well that’s very thoughtful. Thank you, Eric,” Y/n said and set the book down. “Very helpful.” She turned to the wrapped gifts and ripped it open. When she saw what the gift was, her eyes teared up.

“What? What is it?” Kitty asked.

Y/n sniffed and held up two small, baby T-shirts that read My uncle loves me more than Star Wars! And that says a lot. Beneath it was the face of Darth Vader.

“Oh, Eric,” Kitty said softly, tears welling up in her eyes as well. “That is so sweet.”

“I hope you like it,” Eric said. “I saw it at the store and thought it was cute for them and—” He didn’t get to finish before Y/n threw her arms around his neck.

“I love it,” she whispered. “This is the best gift you could give me.”

“Oh, well, if I knew you’d be that easy to shop for, I would’ve stuck to T-shirts a long time ago.” He patted her back as she pulled away from him.

“Thank you,” she said. “It’ll look perfect on the babies.”

He smiled gently. “Good.”

As Y/n resumed her seat next to Hyde, Eric looked to Red who was giving him a softened look.

“Good job, son.”

Eric nodded towards him. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Alright, is that everyone?” Kitty asked, wiping her eyes. “Let’s all clean up and get changed and get the ham started!”

As everyone started to clean up, Eric brought Hyde and Y/n to the side.

“You think I forgot about you, my friend?” he asked Hyde. “I have your gift downstairs in your old room. It’s from our good friend, Mary Jane.”

Steven laughed. “Hell yeah, man! We’ll do circle time later!”

Eric gave him a lopsided smile and turned to return to everyone else.

Later that night, after dinner was over, Fez, Eric, Hyde, and Elena sat around circle time. Y/n leaned back as to not inhale any of the smoke.

“Best Christmas present ever,” Hyde said with a lazy grin on his face.

“Yeah,” Fez said with a dopey grin. “Whoever you got this from, Eric, knows his stuff.”

Eric laughed. “It’s Leo, man!”

“Why am I not surprised?” Y/n chuckled.

“Hey, what time is it?” Eric asked and looked at his brand-new Star Wars watch. “Oh, shoot, we still need to go to Donna’s.”

“Alright, I’ll get our coats,” Fez said and trotted up the stairs with Eric.

Steven got up to join them, but Y/n stopped him. “Hang on, I got something for you.”

“You already got me something,” he chuckled.

“No, I got you something else.” She reached into the shower and came out with a small box in hand. “Here.”

He wrapped his fingers around the box and opened it. Inside was a white, ceramic mug. When he pulled it out, bold letters were imprinted on it: Worlds Greatest Dad.

“I saw it and thought of you,” Y/n said. “I thought you could bring it to work. I hope you like it.”

Hyde didn’t respond, which made Y/n nervous, but that soon melted away when he wrapped his hands around her face and his mouth met hers. “I love it.”

She smiled into the kiss. “Good. ‘Cause I love you."

“I love you,” he whispered and pecked her lips once more.

“Merry Christmas, Mr. Hyde,” she said lovingly.

The corner of his mouth lifted in an endearing smile. “Merry Christmas, Mrs. Hyde.”

Tags: @not-shy-nanya @taysirene @05-feet-off-the-table-06 @mdittyz123 @undead-sierra @random-thoughts-003 @lieswithoutfairytales @xxivy-32 @chloem4a1 @srhxpc

[ayellowcurtain]

If so, I would love to read something about Simon comforting and talking to Wille while he's having an anxiety crisis.

-

Simon decides to stare because Wilhelm doesn’t seem to care, his eyes glued to the old carpet beneath their feet. He looks like a completely different person from last year, with sharper edges, shorter hair, a more serious, fitted look overall. Wilhelm had a situation during class, and Simon wanted to come and check on him. The shortness of breath is gone and he looks ok, as okay as he can be after everything, Simon assumes. They haven’t really talked during the holidays or on the first few weeks back to school. The one time they tried to do it, it didn’t last long. It was right when Wilhelm came back, he was even more anxious than he is now, at least he was trying to talk that time, but then they quickly moved to talk about them, and there was little to no conversation after that. It was a one time mistake, and Simon is trying as hard as he can to keep the little friendship they’ve managed to keep after the leaked video and the “break up”.

It’s not hard to know why Wilhelm has been like this, but Simon just wants to shake him and tell him Eric is gone and there’s nothing he can do, unfortunately, and that he needs to get back to the surface. At this point, Simon is sure Wilhelm would do anything to bring Eric back if he had that choice.

For the past few weeks, he and Simon have been watching each other from a distance, Simon always feels Wilhelm’s lingering, sad eyes on him, only looking elsewhere when Simon looks back at him.

He’s been using a lot of Eric’s clothes since he came back, a few days later than anyone else. Felice was the one to explain the oversized clothes to him - and Sarah and a bunch of girls - and nobody is saying anything about it. Knowing a little bit of Wilhelm, Simon gets all the points he’s trying to send by doing that. Obviously, he misses his brother terribly, Simon can’t even start to imagine the amount of pain and grief he’s feeling. But by wearing Eric’s clothes, Wilhelm is also making his mom and August’s lives worse by reminding them of how terrible they were and how Eric would have felt about it. By the way that he’s acting, it’s clear he blames them for his brother’s death even though one thing has nothing to do with the other.

Simon scratches his temple, unsure if he should tell Wilhelm this, but it feels like Eric is who gets through Wilhelm's cold, sad skin.

“I’ve met Eric.”

Wilhelm looks up at him in a split second.

“What?”

“Yeah…” Simon coughs, squeezing his own hand, “Once, when he came to visit you.”

“Oh…” Wilhelm is not so interested again, looking back down, a little more aware that Simon is still sitting across from him, though.

“We talked briefly. He was very nice…”

Wilhelm nods his head, holding his own hand too, but it’s not enough so he crosses his arms, each hand squeezing his opposite elbow.

“He’s always been a lot nicer than me.” Wilhelm tries to fake a smile, struggling to swallow down his tears. Before Simon can get closer and give him some type of reassurance, Wilhelm changes the subject completely. “I miss you.”

Simon closes his mouth, pressing himself down to sit more firmly on the chair Wilhelm offered him.

“Wilhelm…” Wille rolls his eyes, his walls quickly build back up high and strong just because Simon calls him by his name.

“I know. Everything went to shit. I just thought you should know anyway. It’s not often that I can bluntly slip out my thoughts these days. Eric was helpful with that too.” He gets up with a gentle slap on his knees, walking to the door, but he leans with his back against it instead of opening it and inviting Simon to leave him alone.

He seems to stutter with his thoughts and decides against it, crossing his arms tightly against his chest.

“You can talk to me…” Simon tries, even though it’s clear they’re not there yet. Maybe they’ll never be because their break up wasn’t their choice, more like a compulsory decision made by others again and again. Simon is trying to move on, and Wilhelm will never be okay with it. So they’ll just have to live like this. Until Wilhelm is forced to get in a relationship with someone…the thought makes Simon get up too, adjusting his flannel, thinking about leaving…

“How is it? With the guy…what’s his name?” Wilhelm frowns, he’s curious, not even in his bad phase he can be petty.

Simon exhales a fake laugh, shaking his head, looking out the window.

“Everyone is talking about it.” Wilhelm insists.

“Yeah, because I’m now some type of…fucking social media star? That wasn’t my decision.”

“It wasn’t mine either.” Wilhelm stands away from the door, his whole body tense again, in survival mode even though they’re not fighting and he doesn’t need to stand his ground.

Simon has to take a deep breath in and out to not fall for the trap they’re setting for themselves. Wilhelm is clearly different, in pain, and Simon is just worried, wanting to be of any help since it seems like Wilhelm has closed everyone else off completely, giving them empty, ceremonial answers like the king-to-be that he is.

“How was Christmas?” Wilhelm asks after a few minutes of just them calming their nerves not to start a fight they don’t want to have. Simon still lingers everytime he remembers that day, on saying that to Wilhelm before the holidays. He couldn’t say anything else, but after spending months and months revisiting that exchange of words, Simon knows he sounded hurt and like that was their end…forever. He tries to think of what the right answer would be right now because he doesn’t want to be fake or misleading.

They’re very different. At the same time that Simon feels like he knows Wilhelm like the palms of his own hands, he looks at him and he’s a completely different person, with his whole life drawn for him, and Wilhelm is not thinking about changing that course as of right now, it seems. Simon remembers about that morning, about how warm it was under the sheets, with Wille’s shy but curious, warm hand caressing his ribs and belly, how the sunlight felt nice and warm even though it was probably freezing outside. Simon misses Wilhelm more than he’s willing to admit to anyone, even himself. But sometimes it physically hurts.

“Didn’t even get a simple sandwich for breakfast. I’ve seen better days.” He gets up too, knowing they’re ready to walk on that thin line that made them end up in bed last time they talked weeks ago so it’s better to leave before that happens again. Wilhelm steps aside like opposite magnets. They know they should keep a distance from each other if they’re trying to keep this conversation going.

“Will you let your hair grow out again?” Simon twirls on his heels when he reaches the door, looking at Wilhelm again, seeing a glimpse of the old, shy and playful Wille back, caught back by his question.

“You don’t like it short?”

Simon shrugs because apparently Wilhelm will always be the most beautiful man he’s ever put his eyes on.

“I like it anyway. But longer fits you better.”

When he opens the door, the same pale hand, with long, curious fingers appears on the painted wood, gently closing it back, aware that there are two bodyguards outside.

“Are you really dating?” He whispers so the people outside can’t hear, and Simon has to force his eyes to stop staring at his lips, looking into his soft, loving eyes instead.

“No. But I will, eventually. And you will too and we should prepare ourselves for when that day comes.”

Wilhelm looks down and steps back like he’s giving Simon space to leave or offering him an end to them, again and again and Simon wishes it was that easy.

“It’ll make him pay for what he did, Simon.”

Simon looks at him, wanting to kiss his whole face to push all this anger and pain away from Wilhelm in hopes it’ll heal him back completely.

“You don’t have to and you know I don’t want you to. It’s done, there’s no going back.” Simon bites the inside of his cheek, squeezing the door knob with his fingers, forcing himself to go to his room already. “Take care of yourself? Please?”

He can see Wilhelm’s jawline getting tense as he nods his head, turning back to face his window even though Simon knows he’s about to cry and fall apart once he’s alone. The three words dance in his tongue again and he leaves before he can say them.

[negandarylsatisfaction]

[SUMMARY: TW: Rape. Negan has his way with Simons wife.]

Negan and Claire

Being Simons wife at the sanctuary had its perks, he was Negans right hand man after all. But, you also had to do your fair share of work, cooking in the small kitchen was your job for the group of men. You didn’t mind it, cooking was something you always loved to do. Although Simon did make you feel unappreciated, it was something you were used to for years sadly. One day as you were walking to your bedroom you caught Negan with one of his wives. You couldn’t help but stop and watch as he caressed and whispered something surely seductive to her. His hand going up her thigh, she giggled with excitement, you yourself almost got excited watching how sensual Negan was. Why couldn’t Simon treat you this way? Snapping you out of your thoughts you froze when Negan looked up and caught you staring at him. Quickly you walked away making him chuckle to himself. He wasn’t a stupid man, he saw how Simon treated you. What he didn’t understand was how Simon didn’t want to have you every time he saw you, Negan being the man he was had certain thoughts of you cross his mind a few times.

In bed laying next to Simon you reached over and slowly began to tease him.

“Stop it, Claire..” he mumbled as he turned his back to you.

“Oh come on, Simon. It’s been so long..” you reached over again when he pushed your hand away.

“I said stop it, I’m not in the mood.” You sighed turning away from him. It had been months since Simon touched you, all you did was replay in your head the way you had seen Negan touching one of his wives. The excitement on her face you only wished you could feel again.

The next day you cooked in the kitchen, Negan passed the door way and caught you quickly pop a pill. He frowned wondering what is it you were taking before you turned to the closet across the room to grab more ingredients. Negan quietly made his way inside looking over what you were cooking and casually passed your pills noticing they were birth control.

“Hm..” Negan muttered to himself before you turned back to the kitchen.

“Oh, Negan..Sir...I didn’t know you were here. Anything I can help you with?” He turned to you with a smile.

“Not at all, darling. Just making sure everything’s running smooth here.” Just as he spoke Simon entered the room making you turn to him.

“Hi baby-“

“What’d she do wrong now?” You frowned at Simons words.

“Not a damn thing, Simon.” Negan didn’t understand his bitterness towards you, but he didn’t like it.

“Yeah, hope not.” Simon mumbled as he stepped to the pot of food and picked from it.

“Woah woah woah, and what the hell do you think you’re doing? Putting your damn filthy hands in freshly made food your lovely wife made for us.” You raised your brows at the way Negan stood up for you making Simon look stupid. Good, he deserved it.

“How about we go over what needs to be done today..” Negan grabbed Simon and stepped out of the kitchen leaving you without words.

Later on in the day Simon had left to search for some supplies near by with a group. One of Negans other men approached the kitchen, startling you at the door.

“Negan wants to see you.”

“Me? Oh. Okay then.” You nodded nervously as he led you to Negans room.

Negan sat behind his desk as the man let you inside.

“Thanks, Eric. Lock the door for me.” You looked back behind you wondering why the door needed to be locked. Confused you stood quietly as Negan stood up and made his way around the desk to you. He stopped before you, his eyes drifting down to your body, your nerves rising as Negan had never approached you this way before.

“Negan...Sir..did I do something wrong?” You asked too intimidated to look up at him. Suddenly you felt him gently grab your apron and off pull it off over your head.

“That’s better,” he spoke low as he threw it to the side. Underneath the apron you had an old lavender sun dress, nothing special but Negan loved it.

“I don’t understand..” you whispered confused.

Negan shook his head looking down at your body.

“Mmm mm m...Simon has no idea what he has on his hands.” Negans eyes met yours and you felt your heart skip a beat. It had been so long since a man looked at you this way, and it was Negan. He was practically your husbands boss, this wasn’t right but...you liked it. Looking away you heard Negan chuckle, he could tell you were trying hard not to like it, at least trying to hide it.

“Where is my husband?” You suddenly asked making him suck his teeth.

“Who? Simon?” He asked with a laugh as he walked towards you and you walked backwards.

“Who gives a shit. He doesn’t seem to care about the...sexy woman he has.”

You licked your lips nervously looking away, he was making it hard for you to hide the fact that you liked how he spoke to you. Stopping as you hit a table behind you, Negan stopped before you staring down into your eyes.

“Tell me you don’t like to hear me call you...sexy,” he teased as you once again looked away.

“Negan...I’m a married woman-“

“To a man that doesn’t even appreciate you.” He responded rather quickly.

“Please, your his boss just-“ you gasped when he suddenly picked you up and slammed you down on the table before him.

“Just what?” He grinned with squinted eyes.

“Put me down.”

“Or what?” You looked at him in shock, in disbelief with what he was doing. In your eight months here never had Negan ever done anything of this sort.

“I think I’m gonna go now.” You pushed yourself off the table landing on your feet but Negan blocked your way.

“Why are you acting like you don’t like this, sweetheart? I saw the way you were looking at me the other day.” He walked towards you as you stepped back, further into the room. You blushed thinking of how many times you fantasized of this man.

“Negan...I’m married..please-“

“Please what?” He suddenly put his arm around your waist slamming your body into his.

Without saying a word he began to kiss you, you gasped attempting to push him back as he fell on top of you onto the couch. You squealed in shock as you felt him hold your arms down above you.

“Stop it!” You whimpered as you felt him push your dress up and place himself between your legs.

“Shh...shh..” Negan stopped moving for a moment, his hand still holding both of your arms above you. Why was this almost turning you on? With his free hand you heard him begin to unbutton his pants and your eyes widened.

“What are you doing?” Slowly he pulled them down along with his boxers. Negan grabbed your face and looked directly into your eyes.

“Tell me you don’t want this. I’m giving you one fucking chance.” He whispered as you stared up at him in shock.

“Negan...” you whispered with big tearful eyes knowing you did want it but knowing it would be going against your husband. Never did you imagine going against him. His eyes never leaving yours you felt him move your underwear to the side, the tip of his cock gently pressing against your entrance.

“Holy shit, you’re already wet..”

“Negan I can’t..” you spoke softly.

“You can’t or you don’t want to?” He responded with a deep whisper. You began to move beneath him freeing your arms but he quickly caught them between the both of you. You attempted to push against him but he held his place.

“Negan...please wait..I-“ you gasped loudly as he suddenly thrusted hard into you. You looked up at him in shock but...you wanted more. Negan never took his intense eyes away from you as he continued to thrust. Grabbing onto the collar of his shirt you gasped with each hard plunge. He was big, much bigger than your husband. The girth of his cock filled you in a way that felt just right. Yet your expression of shock never changed as you looked up at him. As much as you tried to fight it, you felt a pool of pleasure forming in the center of your abdomen. Negan felt you get more aroused as he moved.

“Negan...” You managed to whisper barely able to speak, you tried so hard to not be pleased but he wasn’t fooled.

“You’re about to cum...aren’t you?” He didn’t take his eyes off yours as he suddenly moved in a very rapid pace. Your mouth widened as the first moan escaped your lips exciting Negan, he knew it felt good for you as it did for him.

“That’s it, let it out..” he suddenly spoke as you felt another rush of pleasure begin to take over your body but this one much more intense.

Your body arched against him as you screamed in relief. Negan watched you like a piece of art, each facial expression you made as you orgasmed....he could tell you had not been made feel this way in a long time. The expressions you made, made Negan want to erupt. Using the last of his strength he thrusted quick and hard before you heard him cry out a rough sound as he collapsed on your body. You panted beneath him as you still felt him inside you. He lay on you for a moment before he quietly got himself up and turned away from you towards his desk as he fixed himself. You couldn’t believe you had just cheated on your husband, you felt horrible but why did it have to feel so good? You stood up and walked towards Negan who turned to you with a smirk when you unexpectedly smacked him across the face. He seemed to like it and turned back to you with a wider grin.

“What are you pissed that I made you cum?” He laughed as you furrowed your brows. That’s exactly why you were upset, you were mad that he made you feel so good and he could see it.

“Don’t worry, baby...I won’t tell your husband.” Just as you went to smack him again he caught your hand by your wrist.

“Easy” he suddenly pulled you against him hard.

“If you want more you can just tell me. It’ll be our little secret.” You couldn’t bring yourself to deny him, you couldn’t even bring yourself to speak. The frustration in your eyes made Negan laugh.

“You can go back to where you were now, darling. I’ll be keeping an eye on you.” Annoyed and confused with your feelings you walked out. The man who had bought you to Negan was still outside, his expression said it all. You felt your face turn red realizing he had just heard the both of you moaning inside....he knew you were Simons wife. Negan walked out watching you disappear down the hall when he saw Eric staring at him in a shocked manner.

“And what the hell are you looking at?” He snapped at him making Eric quickly look away before he entered his room again.

It wasn’t as hard to face Simon as you thought it would be that night, he barely gave you any attention as he walked into the room. Quickly getting into bed and turning his back to you, you lay beside him silently.

The next day you began to cook earlier, by yourself in the kitchen you decided to make soup. You found yourself not being able to stop thinking about what happened the day before, the sensation Negan made you feel that you had not felt in so long. Distracting you from your thoughts, Simon walked in beside you looking over at what you were doing and began to complain.

“Soup again?”

“Simon we don’t have much options, you should know that.”

“Don’t tell me what I should or shouldn’t know, I’m well aware of what we have.” He snapped at you, all you did was sigh and continued to cook. Negan was outside the door hearing Simon yell at you, he didn’t understand what made Simon constantly act bitter towards you.

“At least we have something to eat.” You muttered under your breath making Simon look over at you.

“You know what? Why don’t you just get back to cooking, it’s the only thing you know how to do.” Simon walked out not noticing Negan behind him as he marched down the hall. Waiting for Simon to disappear Negan made his way into the kitchen. With your back turned you heard someone step inside and lock the door, turning your head you were shocked to see Negan.

“Negan..” you whispered drying your hands with the towel. He didn’t say a word, a grin on his face as he walked towards you.

“Wh-what are you doing here? Simon was just here..” you spoke nervously, you knew exactly why Negan was there.

“Oh I know.” He responded confidently as he pushed a chair out of his way.

“Negan..-“ you stood beside the counter anxiously.

“Simon could come back any minute.” You spoke softly staring up at Negan as the distance between you both disappeared. Negan chuckled before roughly turning you around and forcing you to bend over the counter. Truthfully, you wanted it...you wanted to feel what he made you feel the day before more than anything but you feared your husband finding out.

“You like playing this little fucking game-“ Negan aggressively parted your legs with his foot before he began to pull your pants down.

“Negan, please I don’t want Simon to-“ you reached behind you but Negan caught both your wrists with one hand.

“You don’t want him to what? What the fuck is he gonna do huh?” You heard him quickly unzip his pants as he held you in place. The sound of him spitting on his hand before you suddenly felt him plunge into you. You screamed as Negan held still letting you adjust to him before he began to move. Holding both your arms behind you he thrusted hard and fast. Quickly he felt you get more wet with each thrust making him moan.

“God you feel so fucking good,” he spoke roughly as he slammed into you faster. You screamed accidentally knocking down a cup with how hard Negan pushed you against the counter. Again you began to feel what he made you feel the day before, but this time you were on your feet and you didn’t think you’d be able to hold your balance with how intense it felt.

“Negan...” you whispered trying to warn him but he didn’t respond nor did he stop. Your legs began to shake uncontrollably as you panted, Negan felt you begin to lose balance and put his arm around your waist pulling you back up against him.

“You’re not going anywhere-“ he whispered in your ear.

“Go ahead and cum baby.” The sound of his voice did things to you that you couldn’t explain, before you knew it you were moaning his name as you came. He grinned against you holding you tightly when you suddenly heard the door knob turn. Negan didn’t skip a beat drenched in sweat as he heard someone jiggle the door knob again.

“Claire open the damn door!” You gasped hearing your husbands voice, Negan quickly covered your mouth with his hand and fucked you harder.

“You don’t say a word until I tell you to, understand?” You whimpered as the pleasure he made you feel took over you completely.

“Good girl,” he let your mouth go and grabbed a chunk full of your hair pulling it back lightly.

“Claire! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Simon attempted to push the door when Negan suddenly gave your hair a hard tug.

“Tell him to wait.” Negan ordered as he held you in place by your hair.

“Negan..” you whispered barely able to speak.

“Do it.” You took a deep breath and slowly spoke.

“Just a s-second...Simon-“ Negan shoved you back down onto the counter, you could tell he was about to cum. Negans eyes focused on the way your ass bounced every time he thrusted, his sweat dripping as he dug his fingers into your waist he thrusted one last time and held himself in as he came. Negan remained quiet, all you could hear was his heavy breathing. His hands squeezing your waist as he pressed himself against you deeply before pulling out.

“Claire open the door!” Slowly you stood up as Negan stumbled backwards, weakened by what he had just felt. Quickly you rushed cleaning yourself up and fixing your hair as Negan got dressed. Throwing water on his face and patting himself dry Negan looked at you before silently leaving the kitchen through the back entrance which only he had the key to. Rushing to the door, you unlocked it and Simon barged in angrily.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

“Simon-“

“Are you crazy, are you trying to cause us trouble?!” He continued to yell as you stepped back when Negan suddenly appeared at the door.

“Simon, what’s going on?” He stood beside your husband as you stood in silence.

“She had the damn door locked, I didn’t know until I came back.” Simon explained before Negan quietly walked right up to you.

“Now...why did you have the door locked, sweetheart?” He spoke softly, a grin appearing as he slid his tongue between his teeth. A grin only you could see.

“I...Um...I-“

“You know that does go against our rules, don’t you?”

“Negan..” you whispered not sure of what to say.

“I guess you’ll have to follow me back to my office.” He spoke in a louder and more stern tone.

“We’ll have to have a little talk to remind you the rules I have in place...won’t we?”

“Yes sir.” You responded softly before Negan turned to Simon.

“I’ll take care of it.” Negan left the room as you followed behind him with your head down.

Following Negan to his room he let you in before him and closed the door behind you.

“Negan...we can’t keep doing this..” you turned to him making him smile.

“And why is that, sweetheart?” The twinkle in his eyes made you suddenly forget what you were saying. He chuckled before walking around you to his desk.

“Negan I’m serious.” You quickly followed behind him as he abruptly turned to you making you step back against his desk.

“I have a husband...”you whispered.

“And you have all these wives...why do you want to continue this with me?” Negan looked down at you with an arched brow.

“You have a husband that doesn’t treat you all to good and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t fuck you right either. I could tell by that look you get...” he whispered leaning his face close to yours.

“That look you get while I’m fucking you is addicting..” shivers went through your body from the way he spoke to you. How could this man make you so weak?

“Negan..” you whispered making him smirk as he leaned to your ear.

“What is it baby? You wanna feel it again?” You closed your eyes knowing you wouldn’t be able to resist, he slowly began to kiss the side of your neck, something he had not done before but God it felt so good. He could hear you breathing as you tilted your head back and allowed him to kiss above your collar bone. You felt his hand slowly wrap around your waist and pull you in against him before he slowly began to pull down your pants.

“Negan..” you whispered hesitantly.

“Baby,” he whispered in return before slowly picking you up and sitting you on his desk. He proceeded to reach between your legs but you quickly crossed them.

“Oh no, sweetheart.”

“Negan...I can’t do this again..Simon will find out and-“

“And what?” He whispered looking down at you.

“Let me make you feel good,” he spoke as he slowly parted your legs. Just thinking about what he can do, you lost your train of thought. Distracted by the sight of him pulling his pants down and pulling his shirt off, the sight of the trail of hair he had from his belly button to his cock. You were right, he was a lot thicker than Simon. These were things you had not noticed before with your eyes...but you liked it. Quietly looking at the tattoos on his body, some scars he had on his shoulders you gasped when he suddenly grabbed you by your thighs and pulled you closer to him. Ordering you to take off your shirt, you did as he asked and now the two of you were completely naked. He took his cock and began to tease you slowly, rubbing himself up and down your slit, you were already soaked. Hypnotized by the sight of his cock teasing you, Negans voice distracted you.

“Look at me.” He spoke sternly. You did as he asked when he abruptly pushed himself inside you. A moan escaped your lips making him grin.

“Did that feel good baby?” He asked holding his place.

“How about this?” He pulled out and pushed back in with greater force making you scream louder. He chuckled before proceeding to thrust keeping a rhythm. Hearing the sounds you made only aroused you more.

“Negan...I don’t want Simon..to hear me-“

“You don’t want what?” Negan responded sarcastically acting like he couldn’t hear you before he began moving faster.

“Stop..” you spoke breathlessly knowing you were about to cum.

“No.” He responded looking down at you intensely waiting for you to explode. You looked down at how quickly he moved as your lips parted, one of his hands grabbing the side of your neck while the other grabbed your face harshly.

“Look at me god dammit!” You whimpered as he shook your head forcing you to look up in his direction. He thrusted harder making you finally scream in pleasure.

“Oh yeah...there you go...” he whispered as his hand slid down your chest, both hands now on your waist. Judging by the way he sounded and the way he moved, you knew he was close to cumming too.

“Oh fuck...fuck-“ Negan squeezed his eyes shut and moaned loudly as he came. Quietly you watched as his jaw tensed with how loud he moaned. You found yourself admiring how he looked as he came. He stopped moving and tried to catch his breath before looking down at you. He didn’t say a word as you felt him slide out before turning to grab a towel. Slowly you closed your legs and got off his desk as he turned and gave you another towel.

“Thank you.” You mumbled low when he gently grabbed your face and turned it from one side to the other.

“I didn’t grab you too hard did I?” You looked at him confused as he looked at your face.

“No,” you whispered. You watched as he began to get dressed, the light patch of hair he had on his chest, you sighed as he stood shirtless with just his black pants on before he looked up and caught you looking at him.

“Claire..” he walked towards you with a smirk gently placing his hands on your waist.

“As much as I want you to stay naked like this in my room, I have to get back to work-“

“Yeah. Right.” You interrupted him a bit embarrassed quickly grabbing your clothes.

“Just a second, sweetheart.” He leaned in for a soft kiss, he could feel you still hesitant but slowly moving your lips with his. Confused by his more softened attitude, you didn’t say much after he pulled away. He turned around putting on his shirt and grabbing his leather jacket as you got dressed before he turned back to you. He stopped and stared at you for a moment as he bit his bottom lip with a smile.

“What?” You asked looking at him strangely.

“You do know that you’re mine now right.”

Leaving you speechless Negan put on his leather jacket and led the way out of his room.

(Interested in a part 2? Please Let me know)

[julianblackthornspancakes]

Songs Simon's Band Definitely Played Covers Of

i don't know if this has been done before, but... (*drum roll*)

Julianblackthronspancakes proudly presents a set list that the most happenin' band in Brooklyn (AKA Simon's Band) has undoubtedly performed. Probably poorly and much to the delight of Clary and co.

SPOILERS FOR PRETTY MUCH ALL OF TMI! AND ALSO SHADOWHUNTER ACADEMY! IN DESCRIPTIONS OF WHY I PICKED EACH SONG :)

1. "Anthem" by Leonard Cohen

This one is actually canonical. Clary directly quotes lyrics (there is a crack in everything/that's how the light gets in) while thinking about the chances of saving Possessed! Jace. She heard the song one of Simon's gigs, and the idea of Simon trying to sing like Leonard Cohen makes me very happy. I hope it makes you happy, too.

2. "Lover, You Should Have Come Over" by Jeff Buckley

Sadly not canon. I love the idea of Eric attempting to play a hand organ solo while Simon gazes longingly into the crowd. At one point he definitely sang this while creepily staring at Clary the entire time, but she had no idea.

3. "Green Eyes" by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds

Simon's Band def played a lot of Nick Cave, but especially this song. He and Eric would be so cringey trying to sing the echo-y part. Again, for Clary, who's oblivious to Simon's affection.

4. "Golden" by Fall Out Boy

Dude it would sound so bad. It's in such a funky key and they would butcher it but they would be so into it. Jace would laugh his fuckin ass off, and Simon would subsequently remove the song from all future set lists.

5. "Alligator Skin Boots" by McCafferty

This song came out in 2014, but in my heart they peformed it during CoFA. This was the song were rehearsing when Jordan came to audition... his hippie werewolf heart was unprepared. Why did they have to put me with the weird emo vampire baby??

6. "Simple Man" by Lynyrd Skynyrd

Jordan says if they have to play emo music, it will at least be emo music with a cool guitar part. The TMI crew comes to watch him play and they make fun of Izzy for defending Simon's honor.

7. "I'm On Fire" by Bruce Springsteen

This song was a favorite for gigs during that brief time when Jace was, you know, on fire. He was not amused.

8. "I Will Follow You Into the Dark" by Death Cab for Cutie

More quintessential emo music that Jordan doesn't hate. It's not the most difficult song to play, so it really doesn't even sound that bad. He sang it for Clary once, but it's Izzy's now. All of the best songs are.

9. "Africa" by Toto, but ~acoustic~

Those harmonies are layed on thick. Simon plays the little xylophone part and Jace snorts soup through his nose.

10. "Border Song" by Elton John

An attempt is made for the runs, and there are so. many. voice. cracks.

11. "Teenage Dirtbag" by Wheatus

Can you even be a boy band without covering this song??

12. "With or Without You" by U2

It's not... bad. It's not great, either.

13. "All I Really Want" by Alanis Morissette

It is decidedly not good. They can't quite get the key right, and everybody ends up sort of screaming the lyrics. Also, they lay it on thick with that harmonica. Alec decides he is not drunk enough for this shit.

14. "Kiss You Inside Out" by Hedley

Their acoustic arrangement has the right sound for their daytime Java Jones gig. The lyrics are perhaps too sexual for such an event. Obviously, Eric and his nefarious loins take the lead on vocals.

15. "Your Eyes" from Rent

The band's first and only venture to Broadway. Simon replaces the "MIMIIIIIIIII" with "IZZYYYYYY" and everybody tries not to laugh. Not Izzy, though - she thinks her nerd boy is sweet.

16. "Isabel" by the Wombats

This song didn't release until 2015, but in my heart, Simon sings it at the end of every set after he and Izzy are a thing. When he and Izzy reconcile during Shadowhunter Academy, he starts to sing it to her all the time.

Oh! I made a playlist if you cared to give any of these songs a listen, or imagine the cover songs of Simon's Band through the ages. It makes me very happy.

Oh! And happy SoBH day!

[tacticalhimbo]

THIS POST IS NO LONGER RELEVANT. READ THE UPDATED POST IF YOU GIVE AN ACTUAL FUCK ABOUT OUR COMMUNITY OUTSIDE OF SANITIZED CORPO ACTIVISM (original post preserved under cut for reference; even with the ignored amendment)

Woke up today to see it was the 12th, the day of the Pulse Nightclub shooting.

As someone who lives relatively near Orlando, I remember this day so vividly and I still feel a lot of pain for the victims even five years later.

This list isn't in order with the photograph above, but please take a moment to remember their names:

Stanley Almodovar III, 23

Amanda Alvear, 25

Oscar A. Aracena-Montero, 26

Rodolfo Ayala-Ayala, 33

Alejandro Barrios Martinez, 21

Martin Benitez Torres, 33

Antonio D. Brown, 30

Darryl R. Burt II, 29

Jonathan A. Camuy Vega, 24

Angel L. Candelario-Padro, 28

Simon A. Carrillo Fernandez, 31

Juan Chevez-Martinez, 25

Luis D. Conde, 39

Cory J. Connell, 21

Tevin E. Crosby, 25

Franky J. Dejesus Velazquez, 50

Deonka D. Drayton, 32

Mercedez M. Flores, 26

Peter O. Gonzalez-Cruz, 22

Juan R. Guerrero, 22

Paul T. Henry, 41

Frank Hernandez, 27

Miguel A. Honorato, 30

Javier Jorge-Reyes, 40

Jason B. Josaphat, 19

Eddie J. Justice, 30

Anthony L. Laureano Disla, 25

Christopher A. Leinonen, 32

Brenda L. Marquez McCool, 49

Jean C. Mendez Perez, 35

Akyra Monet Murray, 18

Kimberly Morris, 37

Jean C. Nieves Rodriguez, 27

Luis O. Ocasio-Capo, 20

Geraldo A. Ortiz-Jimenez, 25

Eric Ivan Ortiz-Rivera, 36

Joel Rayon Paniagua, 32

Enrique L. Rios Jr., 25

Juan P. Rivera Velazquez, 37

Yilmary Rodriguez Solivan, 24

Christopher J. Sanfeliz, 24

Xavier Emmanuel Serrano Rosado, 35

Gilberto Ramon Silva Menendez, 25

Edward Sotomayor Jr., 34

Shane E. Tomlinson, 33

Leroy Valentin Fernandez, 25

Luis S. Vielma, 22

Luis Daniel Wilson-Leon, 37

Jerald A. Wright, 31

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I remember biting back tears in my living room because I wasn't out of the closet, and couldn't let my family know just how much this hurt me. I remember breaking down that night while scrolling the headlines, watching as the number of fatalities kept climbing. I remember staring at the button on Facebook asking me if I was safe.

And to this day, even with those involved and responsible gone... I still do not feel safe as a queer man in this state or in this country.

Months later, the city tried to buy the property off. A mere few months after Orlando's LGBTQ+ and Latino communities suffered the largest tragedy it has known, the city and government put a price of $2.25 million on our blood. They claimed they wanted to make it a memorial site, to "honor us". In reality, they wanted profit. Quoted how “There are lots of people that are making a visit to the site part of their trip, part of their experience of Orlando, so I think 12 to 18 months of leaving it as-is would be appropriate."

Today there was a memorial held for the victims. It was live streamed on various news websites. And there is nothing but hatred in these chats, even in the face of mourning. Comments about how disgusting LGBTQ+ people were. How we were going to repent. How we were demons plaguing the nation's cities. How we deserve to be cast out or murdered for our sins. Comments about how there will be a forcible eradication of "our kind", whether we like it or not.

Today, the memorial independently, thanks to the club's owners and the onePULSE Foundation, which I encourage you donate to (if you can).

2023 EDIT: I rescind my statements about onePULSE now that new knowledge has come to light.

Local organizers and victims do not support onePULSE, as there are no survivors involved in onePULSE. Barbara Poma (a figurehead) is currently on vacation and the foundation has no plans to lead any community events. onePULSE is ultimately turning a profit on the backs of the survivors of this tragedy and the only thing they're bringing to the community is disaster tourism.

Instead, check out this group run by victims and the community impacted most by this tragedy:

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But the fight for our rights, our recognition, and our safety still continues:

In June 2021, the Governor of Florida vetoed an "item-lined budget bill" - that legally provides mental health, counseling, and compensation directly towards victims of the June 2016 Pulse nightclub Orlando shooting.

While they cannot be enforced, sodomy laws still exist in Florida to this day. Every year, we are still criminalized by a technicality.

In many places, same-sex domestic partnerships are still not granted. It is only viable in approximately nine counties, thirty cities, and one town.

It took until 2016 for same-sex couples to be granted the same parental rights during in vitro fertilization and surrogacy as opposite-sex couples. Before then, the non-biological mother and father was not the child's legal parent nor guardian.

The state's "hate crime law" only accounts for sexual orientation, and does not protect victims who were attacked for their gender identity.

Anti-discrimination laws for sexual orientation and gender identity are not state-wide nor equally applicable within each county/town.

On June 1, 2021, Governor of Florida Ron DeSantis signed a bill to exclude transgender women from participating in sports designated for female students. This bill passed because of a last-minute legislative "procedural maneuver". The HRC is currently establishing a campaign to try and stop the law from going into effect (called "nullification") on midnight July 1.

Gay-panic and Trans-panic are still viable legal defenses, resulting in these abhorrent hate crimes to be decreased from murder to the lesser charge of manslaughter.

Conversion therapy against minors is not banned state-wide, and is still legal within many areas of the state. In fact, in some areas, a ban on the practice is deemed "unenforceable".

This is our reality.