#/ i got to rambling AND I WAS GONNA WRITE IT SHORTER BUT THEN

[aceofstars16]

…welp…

[ethereal-feline]

I spent my whole day editing a fic I haven't updated in *checks notes* literally almost a year (was writing other fics that I ended up dropping from rotation 😭)

but yeah think I just need to tackle this last chapter of Turtletales if I wanna get it done before I run out of backlog so Imma try to do that over the weekend 👍

[reidmania]

use somebody | spencer reid

part two

summary; spencer doesn’t believe someone like you could ever like someone like him, but he would do anything for a chance.

warnings; fem!reader, reader is described as being really really kind, bau!worker reader, fluff (slight angst bc spencer doubts himself) reader is a bundle of joy idk, spencer is absolutely disgustingly in love with reader. reader has a dog ( a golden retriever ) reader IS A BOOK LOVER, reader is shorter than spencer., no love confession but like there basically is. maybe a part two coming idk!

an; this is based off use somebody by kings of leon bc that song just AHHHH

‘I've been roamin' around, always lookin' down at all I see, painted faces fill the places I can't reach. You know that I could use somebody, you know that I could use somebody, someone like you and all you know and how you speak, countless lovers under cover of the street, you know that I could use somebody, you know that I could use somebody. Someone like you, off in the night, while you live it up, I'm off to sleep, wagin' wars to shape the poet and the beat. I hope it's gonna make you notice, I hope it's gonna make you notice someone like me’

If there was a single light in a room, it would be your smile. Spencer had decided that the minute you introduced yourself to him on your first day, your wide smile was the first thing he noticed, then your kind voice — ever since Spencer Reid’s heart had your name written all over it and you had no idea.

You had been talking to Emily, your hands flinging around the more excited you got about whatever it was you were talking about, you were still smiling when Spencer approached with furrowed eyebrows after Emily had noticed him in the doorway and called him over to introduce himself to the team newest member.

You had introduced yourself with probably the widest, and sweetest grin he had ever seen. He almost forgot about the amount of germs spread through hand shaking when you offered him yours. He was pretty sure he felt the most embarrassment and disappointment when he didn’t forget — and turned down your handshake with his name and a silly ramble about what your name means historically.

He didn’t miss the way your smile never dampened — not even after his rejection of your offered hand, not during his embarrassingly long ramble, not as you listened intriguingly and then told him how cool it was that he just knew that off the top of his head.

That was a year, forty three days, 16 hours and 27 minutes ago — not that Spencer was counting. But he definitely was.

Your kindness won his heart from that moment. Your smile became his moral support during a particularly tough case. It seemed all the less tense when you would meet his eyes from across the room and offer him the sweetest smile. Your small gifts you left around for each member of the team became what he looked forward to and the end of every week — each more thoughtful than the last.

Spencer had kept the collection of small gifts you had given him on the shelf of his bedroom. Each one was specific to him. If someone on the team had mentioned wanting something or something they liked — at the end of the week it would be sitting on their desk with a little pink sticky note and a small ‘I hope you like it!’ in your hand writing.

He noticed that a lot of the time your gifts for him reference whatever he had rambled about the most that week, because he never explicitly told you he wanted anything or liked something because he knew you would go out of your way to get him it — you however found a way anyways.

Doctor who figurines, books, dvd’s. one week you had noticed him fidgeting more than normal and on the friday evening you had left a small collection of different fidget toys for him, with the same pink sticky note that wrote, ‘Picking at your skin is bad!! it can lead to infections and sometimes if you do it too much you could end up needing surgery. (I dont know if thats true, doctor google wasn’t helpful!) I hope these help’

He hadn’t picked at his skin since, if he was fidgeting it was with one of the small metal fidgets you had gifted him.

“Good morning!” You chirped — suddenly the room seemed brighter as you walked into the bullpen, your bag was slung over your shoulders as you made your way towards your desk. You turned your head to offer Spencer a sweet smile.

He returned it, lifting his hand to wiggle his fingers in a gentle waving. A habit he had picked up from you. You never just waved like everyone else did, instead you just held up your hand and wiggled your fingers. When you were asked about it you had smiled and shrugged and said it seemed like your fingers were dancing.

Spencer was pretty sure it was the sweetest reasoning for something he had even heard, but maybe that was just the fact it was coming from you.

“Did you like the dvd I gave you on Friday? The documentary one — if you have even watched it yet! I thought it was interesting!!” You said as you placed your bag on your desk. He thought his heart was going to jump out of his chest at the way your hair fell over your face when your head dropped down to look at your desk.

He shuffled slightly at his desk to sit up a little bit straighter. “I watched it.” He stated. Any dvd you gave him he watched the night he had got it. This one particularly — he had known all of the information that was in it, but it didn’t stop him from enjoying it any less — because you liked it enough to recommend it to him.

“I thought it was interesting.” He nodded, you lifted your head and smiled and he started to wonder at what point that sweet smile would stop having an effect on him. He partly hoped it never would. “I watched another one yesterday. I think you’d like it.” He said, not mentioning the fact he had paid extra attention to all of it, making sure it included something you were interested in, just so he could recommend it to you then talk to you about it the next day.

You grinned, leaning against your desk as you looked at him. He was thankful your desk was so close to his. That you were so close to him. Close enough to have a conversation without having to talk across the room, close enough that he could lean over and help with whatever you needed if you asked.

“The documentaries you watch might be a little above my expertise. I think I’ll just be confused the entire time” You giggled out, tilting your head slightly to the side. He shook his head instantly, eyes following the hair that fell the way your head tilted, down your shoulder.

“You’re smart, you’d understand.” He said.

You smiled and raised your eyebrow slightly, “I’m not smart like you’re smart, Spence.” You shook your head, just as he had a few minutes ago.

He shrugged, “Not many people are” It came out cockier than he intended, he was about to apologise for how it sounded before he heard you let out a gutty laugh. A real laugh. “If- If you’d like.. We uh- We could watch it together and I could explain to you whatever you don’t understand” He added, then he realised he had basically just invited you to hang out with him. Just you and him, in an unprofessional setting. Now his mind was fuelled by the fear of rejection.

That fear dimmed when your smile widened. “Really? That would be great! I’d love that.” You had said.

Spencers mind went to almost a million different places in that moment. He thought about curling up with you on his couch, the documentary playing on his tv as you focused intently on whatever information was being said, he would admire you, he would ache to pull you closer and kiss your smiling lips.

Then he remembered how kind you were. The memory was both a blessing and a curse because then he remembered that your acceptance was probably an acceptance from your kind heart and want to spend time with your friend, opposed to wanting to spend time with him.

You smiled at him sweetly again before you were rushing off to greet JJ and tell her about something silly or maybe talk about whatever the two of you did on the weekend. He knew you often went out with the girls of the team on weekends.

Those nights he would lay in bed and wonder what you were doing, what you were wearing, how your hair was done, if you were laughing at a strangers jokes — you probably were. He knew that because you laughed at everyone’s jokes.

if all the joy in the world was wrapped up into a bundle and forced upon a person — that person was you. Spencer didn’t know if he had ever seen you not smiling and honestly his heart ached for the day he would have to.

“Hey Spence?” His head turned instantly towards the sound of your voice, he looked around to see you on your tiptoes trying to reach a file from a top shelf. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight. You didn’t need to say anything else before he was standing and walking over towards you.

He reached up, fingertips skimming along the files, “Which one do you need?” He asked gently, his eyes dipping away from the files to meet yours as you returned flat on your feet, a grateful smile on your lips, staring up at him.

“Um” You paused, eyebrows furrowing before a laugh left your lips, “The.. second one- I think” You paused before nodding.

He smiled “You think?” reaching up to pull out the second file nonetheless. He heard you sigh dramatically — he didn’t need to look at you to know you were smiling still, probably pushing hair behind your ear.

“Yes, I think.” You stated. He pulled out the file, handing it to you. You took it gently, flicking through it for a moment, your eyes dancing along the words on the page before nodding.

You scrunched up your nose a little when you looked back up at him. “— I thought right! Thank you Spence. You’re amazing and great and awesome” You rambled, flooding him with praise. He felt his cheeks warm at your never ending compliments despite how often you gave them. You constantly reminded him how amazing you thought he was — when he was doing the most minimal things.

He wanted to take it as a sign that maybe you felt the same way he did but then you’d flood someone else with the same praise and that flame of hope would dwindle down just as fast as it came alight.

“You’re welcome” He settled on as his eyes lingered on yours for a moment, your cheeks were a warm shade of pink and he wondered if that had anything to do with him rather than the fact the room was just a little bit warmer than normal.

You grinned and turned away. He followed as you walked back towards the desks. He sat down at his desk, swivelling his chair to face your desk. “I was thinking — if you wanted, this weekend we could watch that documentary at mine, my dog gets a bit excited around new people but he could stay outside if it makes you more comfortable— Oh and theres a new take away shop near my house if you wanted to get dinner” You rambled about your plan’s absentmindedly as you looked over the case.

Spencer felt his heart pull for a number of reasons, one because he didn’t even know you had a dog. He couldn’t help but wonder if everyone else did and this was just a piece of information he had missed out on. Secondly, at the fact you were serious about watching the documentary with him. You actually wanted to.

He had partly assumed you had just agreed because you were kind and didn’t want to hurt his feelings, and it would just be plans you two never really followed through with. He should’ve known better — because it was you.

“You don’t have plans with the girls?” He asked, eyebrows pinched together because he could clearly remember this morning hearing you and Emily talk about where you guys would go this weekend.

You let out a gentle laugh, shaking your head. “Im making plans with you actually. I go out with them every weekend, I’m sure they will survive without me for one.” You smiled sweetly at him, and his heart felt like it was being clenched by someones tight hand.

He tried to hide the fact his cheeks had turned an ugly shade of pink, and that his eyes had blinked away from your captivating gaze for a moment. “That- Yeah- Yeah. That would, thats fine. Your dog is fine. We can get dinner.” He stammered out, because apparently your kindness took away his ability to think straight. Although he knew that already.

“Great!” You smiled. Suddenly Spencer hoped this week would go fast. He turned his gaze back to yours as a question weighed on his tongue, a wonder.

“What type of dog do you have?” He asked, his tone laced with curiosity as he watched you reorganise your desk. How you were smiling while doing something so mundane had his stomach filling with an ache of longing.

You raised your eyes back to his, a gasp of excitement leaving your lips at the opportunity to talk about your dog. “A golden retriever!!” You said, before going into a ramble about your dog.

He grinned as he listened to every word. He couldn’t help but think, a golden retriever. That was so fitting.

What Spencer wasn’t expecting at the end of the week, was a book sitting on his desk. The book wasn’t the surprising part. It was the pink sticky note and what it had written on it that sparked his curiosity.

‘I read this last week and I know romance novels aren’t usually your style but I thought of you. Its annotated. The key is on the back. Have the greatest night <3’

You had already left for the night after dropping everyone’s weekly small gift off around their desks and waving goodbye. Spencer knew you left a little earlier than anyone else to get the bus. You knew how to drive, you had a car. When he had asked you why you got the bus everyday you had told him you just enjoyed people watching.

He constantly worried about what may happen with the dangers of public transport and with how kind you were — well you would be an easy target. How could he tell you that he worried about you when you gave him the sweetest reasoning in the world? How could he tell you he worried without pouring his heart out to you.

Spencer went home that night and in bed he read the book you had gifted him — you were right, romance novels weren’t necessarily his favourite but it didn’t stop him from reading it with just as much interest because it was you that recommended it.

His eyes danced along the key on the back for your annotation. Pink was things you found sweet, green was moments you found interesting, yellow was things that moments that made you sad. — that one made Spencer’s lips pull into a tug because how dare anything make someone so sweet so sad?

But what really caught his interest was the blue. ‘things i want you to know’ It made him wonder what things in this book could possibly be something you wanted him to know.

When reading, he came across many colours and lines highlighted, most in pink and green, a few in yellow, but there was only one part highlighted in blue, it was lines in a conversation in the middle of a particularly mushy love confession between the two characters of the book.

‘You smile a lot.’ was highlighted in blue,

and then, “When you’re around, its hard not to’

Spencer didn’t know what it meant — thats not true. He knew what it meant, he knew what you were saying but he didn’t know what it meant about how you felt about him. His mind swirled with the possibility that you might feel something for him.

How it was possible that someone like you, could ever feel anything for someone like him had his mind in a frenzy.

That didn’t matter when Spencer finished the book and added it to the collection of items you had gifted him, he kept the sticky note and placed it back on the book. He looked over the collection — each gift partnered with the sticky note you had written when gifting them.

Spencer Reid loved you, and if he played any part in making you smile — That was enough for him.

[wakebymoonsleepbysun]

Dogday!! Trying to figure out a way to send a Y/N in there to help him.

Rambles under the cut.

(I drew my sona in these cuz self-indulgent, but if I ever write anything it'll be a reader insert with little to no canon design.)

Design notes: Took some elements from his game model as well as his cartoon design. I think when we see him, he is emaciated and/or stretched out, the way CatNap is said to be able to stretch. Don't know if that's an ability all Smiling Critters have though. For now I'm saying it is SOMEWHAT but CatNap is the better at it by MILES. In any case, that's why he's not quite as lanky as he is in game, and is also a bit shorter.

I also he can be bipedal or quadrupedal, much like CatNap seems to be able to switch back and forth. A bit more animalistic than his cartoon counterpart, but part of that is just him not wanting to tower over the children and employees all the time, so drops down to all fours quite a bit.

The fur texture on his ears in the game cave him a floofy cocker spaniel look so I went with that instead of the less floofy ears he has in the cartoon and his original plushie.

The white pupils being absent when we see him I believe is a sign of how weak he is. When healthy, all the Bigger Bodies Smiling Critters have them, much like CatNap does.

Trying to actually keep his huge open-mouth smile at all times, unlike with my FNAF stuff where I give them more of an ability to emote. That said trying to get him to look angry or sad was a challenge. Sad I think worked okay but the one where I meant him to look angry he looks more cocky or smirky than mad. Tender moments are a bit harder too, as keeping that huge grin with more tender eyes results in him looking either drunk or horney or just like he's not taking the moment very seriously, haha.

And the story? Not sure yet, bouncing around a few ideas, though I don't think I'll have the reader and the player be the same person. Reader might be someone who came up in PlayCare alongside Dogday. Perhaps they knew each other as kids when Dogday was still human. Haven't decided how much of this Dogday remembers or at what point the reader realizes Dogday is their old friend who got "adopted".

Reader grows up the Playcare and is given a job once they're an adult. (Something something starting the brainwashing and normalization of bullshit early to make employees who are more willing to look the other way?)

Dogday somehow kept them hidden during the Hour of Joy and the reader's been living in the caves ever since. (The caves open up so much possibility for people being hidden in the factory. Much easier to say there's an unknown offshoot of a natural cave system than an unknown part of the factory.)

How are they staying fed? Uhhhh...cave mushrooms? Trips to the surface? Moss? Stale vending machine candy? I don't know yet.

Not sure how to pull a happy ending out of this horror but I'm trying. Maybe the reader convinces Dogday to leave after Ch 3 because he'd be too weak to help anyway or something? And uh...I'm just gonna pretend since he's kinda a plushie he can be sewn back together even though I'm PRETTY SURE canonically the inclusion of blood and guts makes that...not a thing.

Just remember guys...all winds blow away...eventually.

[dizscreams]

AHH ETHAN SEEING YOU WEARING HIS SHIRT ‼️😧😘😋🤍

OOOO ANON I LOVE THIS IDEA!!

“CAN I GET A KISS? AND CAN YOU MAKE IT LAST FOREVER?”

— Ethan Landry ★

PAIRING: Ethan Landry x GN!Reader

A/N: TRYING TO WRITE AS MUCH AS I CAN EVEN THOUGH IM ON VACATION LOL

TAGS: @ourloveisgod23 @xyzstar @wenvierismycomfort @beary-rambles @aesthetixhoe @gabbylovesreading @wekiamo @aqellano @mbankfav @teyamsgirll @c8rdigan @astermath @brakke-dino

You were on the couch watching tv while you waited for your boyfriend to come over. He said he had to finish studying and he’d be on his way. Which was over 30 minutes ago, but you’re sure there was a good excuse for it! He was a busy guy so you usually had to be patient and wait for him.

You were mindlessly scrolling on your phone as you laid on the couch. You missed him a lot, lately there hadn’t been a lot of time to just relax and enjoy each others company. You lived with Sam, Tara, and Quinn and Ethan lived with Chad. So between school work and roommates you could never really be alone.

Quinn always barged in which was weird in certain situations or Tara and Sam would be arguing and Chad was Chad and always wanted to third wheel to embarrass Ethan.

You were about to text Ethan again before you heard a knock at the door. You threw the blanket off of you and ran towards the door and unlocking it quickly. “Hi, sorry I’m late,” your boyfriend said standing there with a shy smile on his face holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers. “Eth, you didn’t have to do that,” you smiled brightly at him as you gently took it from his hands.

“No, but I wanted to. I felt bad for holding you up.”

“Thank you,” you said softly before giving him a quick peck on the lips, “You can sit down on the couch, I’m just gonna put these up.” He nodded and you quickly walked away from him and towards the kitchen causing Ethan to get a good look at your shirt. The design looked really familiar to him.

You found a glass big enough for the flowers and delicately took them out of the packaging. You grabbed all of them at once since it wasn’t a large bouquet and put them in, “There!” You tried walking away but were stopped when you felt two big arms wrapping around your waist followed by Ethan’s chin on your shoulder. “You’re wearing my shirt, aren’t you?”

You smiled and turned around so that you were now facing him, his arms still around your waist. “Maybe I am, what’s it to you?” He chuckled, “Nothing, I’m just kinda surprised is all?” “Surprised?” You asked confused and Ethan’s cheeks turned red, “I don’t know, it just looks good on you,” he said quietly. You kissed his cheek, “You’re so cute,” you giggled as you began to kiss his other cheek, then his head, then his nose, and then finally his lips.

You sighed as you both relaxed into the kiss, as this had been something you both were craving all day. You slowly put your arms around his neck and gently tugged him closer to you. The kiss was slow and passionate but Ethan eventually pulled away from you, smiling.

“I really do like seeing you in my shirt,” he said softly. “Don’t flatter yourself too much, I couldn’t find anything comfy to wear.” He rolled his eyes and you kissed his lips again. It was longer than a peck but shorter than what you guys did before. “So what movie do you wanna watch?” he asked. “You can pick-” but you didn’t have time to finish your sentence before he picked you up and walked towards the couch.

“Ethan! Put me down, what are you doing?”

He sat you down and flopped down next to you. “I was thinking a horror movie,” he told you. You hummed, “Of course you were.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “Nothing!” You laughed.

“I think you’re just jealous you can’t handle horror movies.”

He looked away to focus back on picking a movie and you rolled your eyes playfully. You noticed he had the same dumb smile on his face as you probably did which only made you smile more as you got comfortable on the couch and held onto his arm. You put your head on his shoulder as you watched him scroll through movies.

He finally found one and out the remote onto the coffee table before leaning back and wrapping his arm around you. “It really does look good on you,” he said toying with the hem of the shirt. “I’m beginning to think you’re only saying that because it’s your shirt,” you said looking up at him. He smiled a bit, “Maybe. “Im not getting it back am I?”

“Not a chance”

You both giggled and you put your head back on his shoulder and muttered a quiet “I love you.” The movie had just started and you were already growing a little tired but you couldn’t help it, he gave you so much comfort.

“I love you too.”

[inthe-dark-tonight]

Falling into My Sins

chapter one: back in the alleyway

dbf!joel x fem!reader series- loosely inspired by the song skin by soccer mommy

chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5 chapter 6 chapter 7

summary: it’s your first night out since moving back with your dad after graduating college. while at the bar you meet an attractive mystery man and end up hitting it off. things get heated when you convince him to dance with you.

word count: 2.7k

series rating: E (18+ mdni)

warnings: no outbreak AU, age gap (reader is in their 20s, Joel is in his 40s) alcohol consumption, light swearing, slight dubious consent (things get heated while drunk), pet names (sweetheart, babe, etc.), no use of y/n, no physical description of reader.

notes: this is my first time really writing anything so i’m very nervous to post this , i've also been working on one other fic but i decided to post this first. thank you for taking the time to read and any feed back is welcome & appreciated xo <3

also thank you so much to @shatteredbaby for proof reading ily so much bby, and @pr0ximamidnight for also proof reading, letting me ramble like a maniac and helping me with ideas ilysm. i appreciate you both so so so much <3

It’s your first weekend going out since you’ve moved back home with your dad. You’ve just graduated from the Art institute of Chicago in the spring, but your lease wasn’t up on your apartment until August so you stayed near campus until then. Now that you’re back, some of your old friends from high school offered to take you out as a sort of welcome home. You’re just finishing getting ready when you get a text from your friend Aya.

We’re here!! Hurry up Dee is getting impatient!

You roll your eyes and smile. Typical. You’re a bit nervous since you haven’t seen them in about a year, but you’re sure once you’re out it will feel like you weren’t even gone. You throw on a jacket and run down the stairs, grabbing your keys as you go.

“I’m leaving!” You call out.

“Have fun bud!” Your dad shouts from the other room.

Your parents had recently divorced while you were away, so it’s just you and your dad now. You feel kinda bad leaving him alone when you just got back, but you’ll make up for it.

You close the front door behind you and run down your front porch towards Aya’s car. As you get closer, the passenger window rolls down.

“Ahhhhh you’re back!!!” Your friend, Dee, yells. You laugh at her reaction and open the back door to the car.

“Hey!” You slide in and buckle your seat belt.

Aya turns around with one hand still on the wheel. “Long time no see! Tonight’s gonna be fun,” she says with a smile.

“We’re taking shots as soon as we get there,” Dee says with a sly smile and you laugh, leaning back fully into the seat as Aya drives, heading for downtown.

As soon as the three of you find a bar, Dee keeps her promise and orders you all shots and they send you to find a booth while they wait for the order. There aren’t many people in the bar yet since it’s only nine, but it’s slowly filling up. You look around the place, taking in the large bar that runs across one wall with stools gathered around it and across from it is the booth seating you’ve sat in. There are a few high top tables scattered around the perimeter of the bar, a pool table to the right of the door next to the large dance floor in the center that’s currently empty, and the sounds of eighties and nineties rock hits filling the large room.

As you’re looking around, the door to the bar opens and two men walk in. The first man has long dark curly hair, a patchy beard, and he’s wearing dark jeans paired with a tan jacket and brown boots. The other man has shorter dark hair, a similarly patchy beard streaked with gray, and he’s wearing dark jeans paired with a green flannel and brown boots. He’s quite handsome, you think – broader than the first man, his frame stretching the fabric of the flannel to its limit. Your eyes flick back up to his face, taking in the curve of his nose, the crease between his brows and dark brown eyes. When your eyes meet, he’s looking right at you and you immediately glance away, embarrassed that he caught you checking him out. When you dare to look at him again, his gaze is still locked on you.

“Okay, let’s do this!” Dee says as the girls approach the table with a round of shots and a drink for each of you.

Your eyes snap away from the man’s and you smile at them, grabbing a shot glass.

“To celebrate your return home,” Dee says, raising her glass for you to toast against.

You tilt your head back letting the cold liquid slide down. You close your eyes and wince as the sour flavor with the aftertaste of vodka that burns your throat. When you open your eyes again you’re met with the stranger’s warm brown eyes on you still, a shy smile on his face before he turns towards the bar and leans on the wooden counter. You set the glass down on the table and look back to your friends.

The three of you sip on your drinks for about thirty minutes or so, talking about school and catching up on life. At some point while you were all catching up, the bar switched to playing early 2000s music as more people came in. You find your eyes wandering towards the gorgeous man every few minutes, admiring his side profile, the way his hand is wrapped around his beer bottle and his shirt is rolled up to expose his forearms.

You all finish your drinks and Aya is pulling you and Dee onto the dance floor. “Come on!! I love this song!!!”

You don’t recognize the song, but you follow them onto the floor dancing and smiling as they sing along. You find yourself looking towards the bar again hoping to catch the man’s eye, but he’s gone.

“I’ll be back, I’m going to get another drink.” You say loudly over the music.

The girls just nod and keep singing along. You make your way through the crowd that’s formed in the place and find the bar. Your eyes are still scanning, looking for him, when all of a sudden someone comes up beside you, leaning onto the bar. From the corner of your eye you can tell who it is. You turn your head and it’s the mystery man. He’s even more attractive up close, a dimple on his right cheek as he smiles down at you, slight creases next to his eyes. Your eyes travel down towards his broad shoulders and the skin on his chest that’s showing where his shirt is unbuttoned.

“Hi.” the man says while smiling down at you. His voice is like honey, deep with a southern drawl.

Your lips slightly part as you hesitate for a second “Hi.” you finally say back.

“Can I buy you a drink?” He nods towards the bar.

You shake your head in agreement.

“What are you havin’, sweetheart?” He asks.

You clear your throat. “Whatever you’re having.” You smile.

“Hm.” his lip quirks up as his eyes roam your form. The bartender comes over and he orders two beers, then his eyes are back on you. “You here with friends?”

“Yeah uh, I was out of town, I just got back so we’re celebrating.” You decide to keep it vague.

“Well,” the bartender comes back with your beers and he hands one to you. “Welcome back.” He smirks, then you both take a sip.

You can’t help but watch the way his hand wraps around the bottle as he brings it up to meet his lips. You take a few sips of your beer, eyes still locked on him, then place it back on the counter. You’re feeling a little more confident now.

“What about you,” you place your elbow on the table and rest your chin in your hand, looking up at him. “Who are you here with?”

He looks over his shoulder into the crowd, an amused look on his face. “My brother.” You follow his eyes to see his brother sitting in a booth with a girl, leaning into her as they talk.

You giggle then turn back to the man. You’re noticing some similar features now that you know they’re brothers.

“You two come here every weekend chatting up girls and buying them drinks?” You bite your cheek and give him a teasing look.

He nods his head slowly looking down at the bar where he’s leaning on his forearms and lets out a small laugh. “Every now n’ then.” He looks back at you, a slight flush on his cheeks.

“Mmm bit of a player huh?” You lift your brow, teasing him some more.

He’s laughing again, it’s a deep chested laugh that makes his shoulders slightly bounce. “Wouldn’t say that, haven’t had much luck recently.” He looks from your eyes to your lips, then back to your eyes.

You nod your head taking another swig of your beer “So, what do you do for a living?” You ask nonchalantly.

“Uh,” he rubs the back of his neck. “I’m a contractor.” that explains his broad shoulders.

You bite your thumb and lean a little closer to him, arm brushing up against his. The alcohol is definitely taking an effect now. You’re checking him out again, and it’s not subtle. The way his shirt fits snug around his biceps, and his jeans fit his waist just right. He takes another sip of his beer and your eyes lock again.

Then suddenly a song you recognize comes on, Promiscuous by Nelly Furtado. You hear your friends squealing on the dance floor as the song starts, causing you to whip your head towards them then back to the mystery man.

“I’ll be right back.” You smile at him sweetly, finishing off your beer and setting the empty bottle on the table before leaving to join your friends.

You get out to the floor and they hold their hands out towards you, smiling and singing along to the song. You’re swaying your hips to the beat, mouthing the lyrics as you dance. Your hands are moving up and down your body, over the tights you’re wearing and slightly bunching up the short slip dress you have on. You’re lost in the music, then suddenly your eyes lock with the mystery man’s again, darkening as they watch you move. He’s leaning up against the bar, beer in one hand and the other in his front pocket.

‘Promiscuous boy you already know

That I’m all yours, what you waiting for?’

You’re mouthing the words, eyes never leaving his. You tilt your head to the side and give him a cheeky smile before moving your hands over your hips again. He lifts his hand out of his pocket, beckoning you back to him with his pointer finger. You shake your head no, and mimic his motion telling him to come to you. You turn away from him, back towards your friends, then glance at him over your shoulder and mouth, “Dance with me.”

A few moments later you feel a large warm hand run down your arm, and the back of a hand runs over the nape of your neck and down your shoulder before resting on your hips. You turn your head to look and it’s your mystery man, looking down at you with desire in his eyes. You turn around, still in his grasp, and wrap your arms around his neck, bringing your body flush to his.

You’re swaying with his hands on your hips now, grinding up against him. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and he leans his forehead against yours, taking in a deep breath. You tilt your head up, heavy lidded eyes scanning his face and your nose bumping his, your parted lips allowing a shared breath in the scant space between your mouths.

Then he’s kissing you, one hand on your hip lightly squeezing, the other resting on your cheek. He lets out a small groan and slips his tongue into your mouth, a mixture of mint and beer fill your senses. You gently pull the hair at the nape of his neck, causing him to let out a sigh.

“Sweetheart.” His voice sounds gravelly and deeper than before. “I can’t take my eyes off you.”

“Then don’t,” you say, so low it’s almost a whisper, just between the two of you.

You’re so close to him, you can feel his arousal straining against his pants as you press yourself against him.

“Come with me.” he looks down at you while trying to catch his breath.

He kisses you again, hand resting on your cheek. You nod approvingly as he pulls away. He doesn’t hesitate, grabbing you by the hand and dragging you off the dance floor towards the door. You notice his hand is much larger than yours, a little rough and calloused most likely from his job. He looks back at you a few times, and you just stare at his broad frame as you follow him. You look at the way his hair sits so perfectly, eyes wandering to his large forearms as he pulls you along behind him.

Moments later you two are outside and he’s pulling you around the side of the brick building. He backs you up against the wall, lips immediately crashing into yours. His palms rest on either side of your face, thumbs roughly caressing your cheeks like he just can’t get enough.

“You were killing me in there,” He’s towering over you, your hands clinging to his forearms.

“Was I? Couldn’t tell.” you smile slyly.

He laughs and shakes his head. “You’re somethin’ else babe, deadly.” he’s kissing you again, hands moving down your body to your waist.

You grab at the fabric of his shirt near his chest, trying desperately to pull him closer. His large hands find the hem of your dress and move up over your tights clad thighs. You moan into his mouth, heat already starting to build at your core. Moans and heavy breaths filling the air as you claw at his skin. You gently bite at his lower lip then slip your tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss. As you lower your hands towards the waist of his jeans, tucking your fingers into the front and pulling his hips flush against yours, you feel him shudder. You let out a whine as you feel the imprint of his straining cock once again.

Then you hear the door to the bar bursting open and two familiar voices talking. “It’s okay, it’s okay, shhhh.”

You freeze as your lips leave Joel’s, wide eyes meeting his before stepping away from him to peer around the corner. He lets out a groan as he adjusts himself, one hand still on your hip trailing behind you as you near the corner of the building. Then you see Aya with her arm around Dee, rubbing her back. You stand up straight, pulling away from Joel.

“Oh my god?! What happened?” You sprint over to them.

“Oh thank god, we were looking everywhere for you.” Aya looks up at you. “Dee had too much to drink, we need to go.” She loops her arm into Dee’s. “I grabbed your things, where were you?”

Then you see her eyes wander to the broad older man shuffling up behind you and her eyes go wide. She leans in close to you and mouths “Oh my god”. You can feel your face heating up as you turn around to face him.

“You ladies need a ride home?” He looks down at you, concerned look on his face.

“Oh uh.” You turn back to Aya.

“No, we've got it covered-” she smiles at him.

“But thank you,” it comes out louder than intended. “I appreciate it,” taking a step closer to him you whisper “And sorry…”

“Don’t worry about it, Killer.” He flashes a charming smile at you.

“Killer?” You laugh at the nickname and he nods his head.

“We gotta go!” Aya yells out to you.

You whip your head to look at her, then your eyes meet his again. “Well, it was nice meeting you, mystery man.” You give him one last look and go to turn around towards your friends. He gently grabs your shoulder, surprising you.

“Wait,” it comes out soft as he whips you around to face him again. “Can I at least have your number?”

You hesitate for a moment. “What, so you can add me to your roster?” You try to hold back a smile.

“C’mon.” he looks away shaking his head, a boyish smile plastered on his face.

“Give me your phone.” He looks back at you, relief in his eyes. Then he pulls it out of his pocket and hands it to you.

You type in your number and put your contact name as Killer. You hand him back his phone and quickly get on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. His eyes go slightly wide, and then you’re turning away, running towards the car before he can say anything. As you grab your jacket and purse from your friend and slip into the car, you smile at him before closing the door.

You watch him through the window standing there with his hands in his pockets as the car pulls away. Your mystery man, you hope to see him again.

ty for reading xo

tagging a few moots but np! anyone who wants to be tagged in the next one let me know :)

@nostalxgic @ilovepedro @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @beskarandblasters @jenispunk @tieronecrush @joelsversion @pedrospartner @canseethebrushstrokes @scrambledslut @isitmeulookin4 @tinygarbage <3

[halfway-house-in-hell]

husk redesign

(sinner + human form)

rambling below the cut! (gonna be shorter this time srry)

- first of all hes irish now bc i do what i want. he lived in dublin

-died in 1978 at 67 yrs old, lived through the troubles

- was married

-took up a job as a really shitty magician (hes good at tricks its just that he has the charisma of a mouldy loaf of bread you left alone for a week before dealing with it)

-used his card skills to cheat at poker and spent most of that money on beer

- died of a heart attack

-made an indecent living as a minor overlord by cheating at Soul Poker™ (poker but you gamble your soul)

-eventually people found out he cheated and they got Angry so he turned to alastor, who promised that these people would forget all about his lies if he gave alastor his soul

-on a very tight leash, he rarely gets time away from alastor and has to deal with him breathing down his neck at all times

-technically his henchman

-bonds with nifty over working at the hotel and having to deal with alastor and they gain a kinda father-daughter relationship

-he encourages her sci-fi writing

-supposed to only supply non-alcoholic drinks at his bar but sneaks in real ones anyway

-chronic bet-placer, usually with nifty

-dog sinner bc. he is loyal to a fault (to alastor) even though he doesnt want to be

-thats all i got srry. thx for reading ✌️

[hrtsgyu]

costume shopping w bf!heeseung.

“ah!” you yelp, immediately covering your mouth as you hit heeseung on his shoulder. he laughs taking off a horrid mask and putting it on the shelf.

“seriously don’t do that again.” you said half jokingly as your boyfriend wraps his arms around your waist. “okay! okay i’m sorry baby.” he says softly, kissing your cheek. he walks beside you, one of his arms still around your waist and your hand in the back pocket of his jeans as the both of you walk around a halloween store.

“i still don’t know what to go as.” you sigh, resting your head against his side. “does it matter? let’s just stay in and watch scary movies together.” he says, already choosing a movie in his head. you roll your eyes. “babe i’m not missing my best friend’s birthday..” you trail off as your eyes find a cute little red riding hood costume, walking up to it while pulling your hand out of his pocket. “this is perfect hee, look.” you nudge his side. “hm? yeah it looks cute.” he scans the packaging. “i’m gonna try it on!” you slip away from his arm that was around your waist, walking towards the fitting rooms. he follows behind you like a little puppy, pouting a bit.

you enter the fitting room and he almost goes inside with you but you stop him. “the last time i let you into a fitting room with me we almost got banned.” heeseung smirks. “yeah because someone couldn’t keep it down, i remember baby.” he says very sultry, cupping your cheek, his thumb sliding across your lips and making you blush. “whatever..” you mumble, pushing him away softly, hearing his giggle as you close the curtains.

you change into the dress, the tights, and the cape/hood thing. the dress is a little shorter than expected, riding up your thighs, if you bent down the world could could see yours. still wanting his opinion, you open the curtains dramatically, spinning around and showing him the costume.

“what do you think?” his eyes widen seeing you, feeling his jeans tighten. you see him checking you out, making you bite your lower lip. “you look.. so..” he steps closer, his hands resting on your hips. “so hot.” he whispers. “you think so?” you wrap your arms around his neck. he kisses your arm, taking in a bit of your scent. “definitely.” he then leans down and presses his lips on yours. you can feel him holding back though, you take a few steps back into the fitting room, not pulling away. he bites your bottom lip, making you gasp giving him an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. you let out a soft moan at the feeling. your tongues dance against each other before pulling away to catch your breath. his forehead resting on yours. “you know, i suddenly forgot what happened last time…” his voice low as he starts to close the curtains. “…care to remind me again?”

i’m literally so miserable… i love heeseung an Abnormal amount… ANYWAYS…. i was going to write like a Whole smut thing but i was like not yet… i Gotta Perfect my skills type shit… but YEAH an idea finally came to my head hopefully more comes i Pray… ITS ALSO MT BDAY MONTH !!! me and heeseung’s birthday r just a few days apart i love him OKOK IM RAMBLING BUT I HOPE U ENJOYED AND HAVE A GOOD DAY/NIGHT !!!!

[littledollll]

Hey there! Can I please request a Larissa x teacher!reader? The reader is like really shy around Larissa. And I mean like Larissa can’t even smile or get one word out without reader blushing and looking for an excuse to run and hide. Reader can’t escape one day though because Larissa asks for a one on one meeting. It starts off with Larissa just asking about reader’s class and then she suddenly asks if she makes them uncomfortable or anything and reader just bursts and goes “you just make me gay panic okay? you’re so pretty, and tall, and your voice is like the most amazing sound ever” like full on just gay blabber. Larissa finds it adorable and asks reader out and kisses them. I just wanted something funny and fluffy with Larissa. Thank you!

How cute

Larissa Weems x Shy!teacher!reader

A/n: this request was so cute!! I’m sorry it’s a little shorter than my usual, I’m trying to get my pile of requests done quickly but still be good and not half assed which means length takes the penalty, also trying not be repetitive in my writing!

Warnings: none, pls tell me if you belive I should add any!

You really didn’t know how to even approach her. If you had questions you’d ask other teachers and avoid Larissa at all costs, the second you met officially for your interview your whole world turned upside down, she was stunning, how she talked and carried herself, the sheer elegance she radiated, how that red lipstick looked on her, how she dressed to compliment her body yet kept it professional. To this day you’re still unsure how you even got through the job interview and became a teacher.

It wasn’t that hard to avoid her, unless of course you had a staff meeting or work events, you clung to the other teachers and avoided contact with Larissa regardless, only speaking when she directly addressed you before running off to find something to do, on the bright side it made you very productive, so when Larissa called you in for a one on one meeting you were confused, had you done something wrong? Regardless you made your way to her office, anxiously toying with the rings on your fingers.

You took a deep breath and knocked, you heard a soft “come in” and stepped into the office. Larissa pointed at one of the arm chairs and you sat down, looking down at your lap and again playing with your rings. Larissa observed you for a second before speaking up. “Don’t worry you’re not in trouble, you’ve actually been one of the most responsible teachers here from the second you started working, I’m impressed.” You stuttered. “Well- um, thank you!” She only nodded in response.

“I just want to know how you’re settling in, how the students are treating you, is Nevermore to your liking?” You were looking anywhere but her way when you spoke. “Oh! Well I like it here a lot actually, the students! They’re great, some trouble makers, you already know that, but just amazing for the most part, very competitive some of them which makes for an entertaining class- and the teachers! Very lovely, ive felt very welcome-“ you cut yourself off before you kept rambling, not noticing the smile on her face at your excitement. “Sorry. I kinda just kept going- um, but- yeah I’d say I’m settling fine.”

“Well I’m glad to see you enjoy it here so much, darling, if you don’t mind, I have a question.” You nodded at her to continue. “Clearly the students and staff aren’t an issue.. I can’t help but notice you seem rather uncomfortable around me, the way you behave around me compared to the others.. do I make you uncomfortable, dear?”

You were shocked, you didn’t want her to think you didn’t like her, or felt uncomfortable with her, so you forced yourself to explain. “I- no, God no! I’m very sorry principal Weems, I don’t- you don’t make me uncomfortable, I have no issues with you, I’m sorry I made you think so-“ “Well clearly there’s something the matter." She just wanted you to explain, making her sound cold.

“I’m gonna regret saying this- okay! From the moment I came here I was absolutely entranced by you, you are simply divine- perfection actually and I do not know how to work around you because it’s all I can think about. You are elegant and kind, beautiful and professional, and I get like horrible gay panic around you!”

You caught your breath. “I know it’s horribly unprofessional. That’s why I avoid you.” Larissa’s smile only grew leaving you confused. “What-“ she came around her desk standing over you. “Darling you are adorable, if you would have just told me sooner.” You furrow your brows. “What exactly are you saying-“ Larissa pulled you into a kiss which you immediately reciprocated, pulling away she cupped your jaw. “I’m saying, are you free for dinner this Friday? And from now on, just call me Larissa.”

[columbiastapshoes]

ATTENTION MAGENTA/COLUMBIA SHIPPERS: dinner is served 🤭 and this time it’s not meatloaf [ba dum chh]

that was a lot funnier in my head

ANYWAYS. here are some of my headcanons for the two of them and a collection of images i’ve found over the past 2ish years ive been hyperfixated on this movie!! i may have posted some of these hcs before but i. honestly don’t remember what ive said so forgive me if i repeat stuff! and disclaimers for the images: they’re from the rocky horror picture show and the rocky horror show, the one where they are Almost kissing is? a columbia cosplayer? with patricia quinn? lmk if im wrong about that one but im pretty sure that’s not nell campbell. ok with that in mind here ya go!!

-“HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII” “hello”

-magenta makes columbia like. ten hour mixtapes and columbias like 😀 and then listens to all of it in one day and refuses to pause it

-they have very different music tastes but they both appreciate the stuff the other listens to, but their tastes come together with the b-52s and abba :3

-magenta is a huge horror fan and columbia is Not but she watches scary movies with magenta anyways and is constantly holding a blanket up to her eyes or is burying her face in magentas shoulder

-this involves frank but he has been their wingman since day one. like their mutual pining was obvious to everyone except the two of them and frank kept trying to be like “she’s in love with you idiot” but he was always met with a “no we’re just friends” or “you’re making it more than it is she’s not in love with me”. when they Finally got together he was happy about it for like 3 seconds and then immediately resorted to the “i hate gay people” card and every time they kiss in the same room as him he’s like “GET A ROOOOOM” and gags

-magenta is. really strong. and even though she’s shorter than columbia she can pick her up no problem (columbia tried picking magenta up one time and she did do it but she lost balance and they fell over) (they were fine)

-magenta did not realize how much she loved physical affection until columbia (incredibly clingy) came around RAAAAH I HATE THEM /POS

-this is gonna start off as a rocky headcanon but i will get to them i promise. rocky has basically evolved into philomena cunk and asks the most wild out of pocket questions at the dinner table. magenta and columbia have noticed this and before dinner they always bet on what he’s gonna ask about and at dinner when he asks something whoever’s right kicks the other one under the table (affectionately)

-magenta is a love letters girly i know im right. but since they live in the same house she just slips the letters under columbias door and runs away because she’s a cutie patootie !!! columbia always reads them and writes back and does the exact same method and they’re just like. writing notes to each other. and both of them have incredibly messy handwriting that no one except them can read ☹️☹️ so when frank tried to look over magentas shoulder when she was writing she was like “DONT READ THAT” and he was like “…i couldn’t if i tried”

might add to this more later but that’s what i have for now :3 i am so normal about them i promise. enjoy that semi-coherent rambling and the images!! happy new year everyone :D

[thatlonelycactus]

Crowley was 100% besties with the renaissance thinkers. He and DaVinci were always talking about some kind of invention or painting or just making fun of people, Michelangelo let him in on all the hidden meanings in his paintings and they’d always complain to each other about their bosses, and him and Galileo talked about the stars. In fact, it was his friendship with Crowley that solidified his belief in the heliocentric model of the solar system.

Aziraphale fraternized with the Enlightenment thinkers. He discussed morals and ethics and philosophy with Kant and Rousseau, Locke and Voltaire. Unlike Crowley with the renaissance figures a couple centuries beforehand, Aziraphale shared very little of his angelic wisdom. Partially because he didn’t want to but also because everytime he’d talk with any of them they would beg him not to. This resulted in, whenever they said something completely wrong, Aziraphale trying to hide a sly smile, failing completely and having a cup of tea thrown at his head. Very pleasant.

At the start of the 20th century, Aziraphale found himself surrounded by the likes of Joyce, Woolf and Wilde. He enjoyed it immensely. Who wouldn’t? This is how he got many of his first editions from the period. Whilst he and Wilde were very close, he probably spent the most time with Woolf. Whilst modernist literature was never his favourite period, he loved the writing of Woolf, many of her shorter works he read prior to them being published, were some of the most beautiful works of prose he’d ever read. He thought that Crowley might like Huxley’s works if he liked to read but he didn’t so Aziraphale never tried to convince him to but he always keeps an extra copy of Brave New World in his bookshop just in case (it’s signed too).

Later on in the century, Crowley befriended the men whose names most people only ever expect to hear used from time to time in a science lesson but never truly understand who they were or what it was that they actually discovered. Einstein, Schrödinger, Doppler, if they changed the science world, Crowley knew them. He had a good time with them, providing little “what if”s and queries that would stop them in their tracks. Most of them initially thought he was pretty, how to put it, stupid, at first, I mean if anyone saw they way he looked at the maths they did tragedy think he was pretty brainless too despite the fact he was only trying to figure out why they had done all that maths to get a simple answer. But his value was quickly realised because, unlike his companion, Crowley was much happier to give little pieces of information he learnt during the creation of the universe.

Sorry for my rambling. Also Aziraphale and Sappho were definitely friends and he still has full copies of her poems in the back of his bookshop but he’s not gonna tell anyone about that.

[its-desca]

People post their fics on tumblr sometimes. Right.

Uhhh anyways Engiespy fic below the cut where they are both aspec. 3.5k words.

Link to Ao3 version in reblogs because I don’t trust tumblr not to hide the post if I add a link. I’m gonna write one more short chapter so you can go bookmark it there if u wanna see that 👍

Late nights in Dell’s workshop weren’t supposed to go like this.

He and Spy had been sitting on opposite ends of his old, worn couch. Spy always insisted on taking the more intact side of the cushion, waxing on about Dell’s poor choice of interior decor, but it only ever made the shorter man laugh, as he knew Spy would always show for their Friday movie nights. They’d settle in, sometimes Dell would crack open a couple beers (for himself of course, Spy hated the stuff), and the two would relentlessly criticize each and every aspect of whatever they were watching, laughing all the while. It was the perfect way to end off a usually stressful week, and with Dell’s insistence to take as many late nights as possible working, it was also the only time he’d get anywhere near eight hours of sleep. Mostly.

This was one of those nights. The film had ended a few moments before, the credits beginning to silently slide by.

“Well, that was stupid,” Dell started, stretching his arms back and yawning. “I mean, seriously, when they blew that guy up the trajectory of his limbs was completely wrong. And did you even see that effect for the shotgun blast? Ridiculous! It’s like he got shot with twelve lil’ pistols, that ain’t what shells look like in the slightest, right?”

His short ramble was returned with silence, and after a moment Dell furrowed his brow, turning to look at his friend. Spy loved accosting the poor special effects directors, it wasn’t like him to spare even an inch of criticism at any chance he got. But when Dell looked over, he was surprised to find Spy staring straight back at him, his dull blue eyes locked onto him with a strange look.

“Spy?” Dell asked, concern edging into his tone. “You alright there, partner?”

Spy took a deep breath and reached over, gently taking the engineer’s hand. It was such a soft, intimate motion, that Dell immediately froze up, a faint blush starting to creep over his features. Oh no.

“Dell,” Spy said softly. “You’re… a very wonderful man.”

Dell hadn’t known there was a good kind of blush back when he was young, flitting from girl to girl at his fathers insistence, desperately trying to cling to the vestiges of every relationship he could manage to find. “You’re just flustered,” he’d been told when he brought this up. He’d convinced himself yes, that’s what it was. It was not an easy feat.

“We have been convening for quite some time now and… well… I have recently begun to see something different in you,” Spy continued. He seemed intent on maintaining eye contact through what he was saying, but Dell could tell he was struggling.

“And that is…?” Dell laughed nervously. Please. Please no.

“I… I believe I am in love with you Dell. I would like to know if you feel the same.”

Dell opened his mouth to reply, but couldn’t find the words, panic welling in his chest. It was over. Every good thing he and Spy had, every conversation, every joke, every cheap beer and fancy glass of wine, every long night in his workshop, every early morning chatting on the balcony, had all amounted to nothing. Again. It always ended this way.

Spy let out a breath after a moment, seeming to take his hesitance as an answer. The look in his eyes hurt more than anything he could have said. He leaned back, withdrawing his hand from the Engineer’s grasp, and Dell had to stop himself from reaching out again. The distance apart was unbearable, the air suddenly feeling so much colder against his empty hand.

Dell wouldn’t cry, not now. He shouldn’t have even been able to cry, because something was wrong with him, something was broken. He’d been to doctors. He’d been to therapists. Hell, he’d even tried talking to Medic. But nothing came up on tests, the psychologists would say he just hadn’t met the right person, and Medic had given him such a puzzled look he gave up immediately. Well, by all means, the right person was right in front of him. The right person should have been in front of him. But he felt nothing in the hollow hole of his heart but shame.

“I’m sorry- I just-“ Dell found the words tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them, the sound of his voice much shakier than he would have liked.

“No, no, it is alright. I understand if men are… ah… not your taste-“ Spy cut in.

“That’s- not- Women ain’t either,” Dell blurted out. He immediately regretted his outburst, embarrassment crawling in his stomach with the strange look Spy gave him.

“Then…” Spy spoke slowly, as if every word might scare his coworker away. “What… if you don’t mind me asking… is your taste?”

Dell’s throat felt tight as he searched for an answer to the question he’d asked himself over and over again. “I… don’t know.”

He leaned over and put his face in his hands, taking a deep, shuddering breath. As the fingers in his still-flesh hand met his cheek, he drew them back to find them wet. He had sworn he wouldn’t cry.

“I’m sorry.” Dell muttered. “You’re a fine man and I don’t… I just… I’m awfully sorry. You… you can go.”

Dell stared at the ground, trying to take deep breaths. He waited for the telltale sign of footsteps, the sound of a cloak, something. What he wasn’t expecting was for a gloved hand to gently meet his back. The engineer looked up.

Spy’s face was unreadable, not an unusual appearance for the man, but this time he looked more lost. The man opened his mouth and closed it, trying to parse some kind of response.

He finally spoke, “Dell, really, it is alright. Please do not worry about me-“

“-I do worry about you though!” Dell interrupted. “I think about you all the damn time! You’re always hiding yourself away in that fancy old room of yours, never showing up to nights out on the town, answering every question with a question. Do you ever hang out with anyone other than me? Ever?”

Spy’s eyes widened at his outburst, but he didn’t say anything.

“That ain’t good for you, Spy. You can’t just close yourself off to the world and be a one man show.”

Spy scoffed at this, turning away, “Says who?”

Dell grabbed Spy’s shoulder and turned him around to look him in the eye. “Says me. Because I care about you. I care about you… a whole damn lot. And I don’t…” he felt his eyes sting with tears again. “Something’s busted up in my head, I’m sure of it. Because you’re great. You’re smart as a whip, and- and funny, and caring, and handsome, and… a whole buncha other stuff I can’t think of right now because I’m upset.”

Spy’s eyes widened and he stuttered, the blush under his mask creeping up to the bridge of his nose. “Q-Quoi?”

Dell took a deep breath, leaning back. “I mean it. I don’t… I’m awfully sorry, Spy, I just…” He trailed off awkwardly, leaving the two of them in silence for a moment.

Spy had diverted his eyes to the floor, his lips pressed together in concentration. Dell could practically hear the gears turning in his head, but couldn’t possibly fathom what there was to be processing.

After a long pause, Spy looked up again. Dell nervously shifted as the man spoke, “Monsieur Conagher… what you are describing… sounds like love to me.”

Dell sighed and shook his head, having gotten all too familiar with this reaction at this point in his life He usually didn’t try to explain himself further, but something was different about Spy. As he stared back at him, he could see something lurking beneath the surface of those murky blue eyes. Something he couldn’t quite place, but compelled him to keep talking.

“It’s like… you know how you love a friend differently than a partner?” Dell tried. Spy stared at him blankly, and the engineer sighed, rubbing his temples. “No, that’s not right, lemme start over.”

“Way I see it, there are three ways to love someone. You can love them as a friend, where you’re fine just sittin around and shooting the breeze, maybe throwing back a couple of beers. You can love them the way you’d love a partner, where you wanna go on dates and the like,” Dell scratched the back of his neck. “That one flies over my head a bit. Like, I’d be fine going on a date with someone. Just not… in a romantic sort of fashion. All friend-like would be fine.”

Spy raised an eyebrow, speaking again, “You said there were three kinds of attraction?”

“Well, yeah… I suppose you can go and figure out what the third one is.”

“I presume it is of a sexual nature?”

Dell’s face reddened, “Well you don’t have to just go and say it!”

“Hm.” Spy pulled out a cigarette and lights it, taking a long drag before looking back over. “Why the refusal to speak about it?”

The shorter man crossed his arms, huffing, “I ain’t refusing nothing! It just ain’t proper, is all.”

Spy chuckled, throwing Dell a look. “Well, in that case, where do you fall on the matter?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“As you appear to not experience this attraction of the ‘romantic’ sort, do you experience any sexual attraction?”

The blush on Dell’s face deepened, and he looked away. “Well, that’s a tricky question. I do experience… well… some kinda… that.” He gestured vaguely. “But it ain’t exactly to other people. Like I wouldn’t say no necessarily if it was offered, but… you know… not something I’m looking for.”

The smirk on Spy’s face melted into a more neutral expression as he hummed thoughtfully, shifting his gaze back to the T.V. The credits to the movie were over at this point, static casting a faint glow over the man’s masked features. Dell couldn’t help but wonder what he looked like behind the disguise. A few defining features crept through the fabric, high cheekbones, an aquiline nose, a strong chin, but not enough so that Dell felt he could identify the man without it.

The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes before Spy broke it again. “This… romantic… type of attraction you speak of. Would you mind describing what it… feels like?”

“Well, I’ve only had it described to me through others, so can’t say for certain I’m the best source. But from what I’ve heard, you start thinking about that person all the time. When you’re around them your knees get kinda weak and your head all fuzzy. You get hit with overwhelming urges to do stuff like kiss em or hold their hand.” Dell shrugged. “Stuff like that I reckon.”

Spy’s lip curled with disgust. “Sounds like a disease. Are you sure?”

The engineer laughed, grinning back. “I know, right! People describe their partners same way I talk about my blueprints!”

“You are the only one who feels this way about math.”

Dell’s smile widened and he clapped his hand on Spy’s shoulder playfully, “And that’s why I’m the best goddamn engineer this side of the Mississippi!”

Spy chuckled in response, taking another drag of his cigarette. Dell looked at him thoughtfully, the gears beginning to turn in his head while he evaluated the man before him.

“Spy?” Dell started, trying to sound casual. “Are you saying that you reckon you might… feel the same?”

Spy huffed, furrowing his brow. “The way you are describing romance is not the way I perceive it.”

“How’s that, then?”

Spy thought for a moment, his eyes searching the floor for something that didn’t seem to be there. “I am… uncertain. But I have treated romance as a natural progression of friendship. A strong sense of camaraderie with another, where you take additional actions such as ‘dates’ or ‘kissing’ to express the nature of this relationship. Although, this does not appear to be… the ‘correct’ way. As you’ve described.”

Dell wondered, for a brief moment, if he’s dreaming. If this was just some horrible trick his brain was playing on him to make him think he’s finally not alone. “So… you said you loved me? You still… think that?”

“Well… there are multiple ways, yes? I am… beginning to believe it was in the way of a friend as opposed to a lover,” Spy responded slowly.

“Well…” Dell thought for a second. “I know a way we could test it.”

“And that is?”

Dell took a deep breath, wondering if what he’s about to say is stupid. “Kiss me.”

Spy’s face immediately reddened. “What?!” he spluttered incredulously. “I thought you said-“

“It wouldn’t be in a ‘lovers’- or, whatever you called it- kind of way. We could do a… a friends… kiss?”

Spy scoffed, “There is no such thing.”

“Why not?” Dell gently reached over, taking Spy’s hand. The man looked back at him like a deer caught in headlights, and Dell almost laughed. So much for that suave Frenchman he so adamantly claimed to be. “If you don’t wanna, that’s fine. But I think-“

Dell was interrupted by Spy’s lips crashing against his, the man pulling at his overalls to bring him forward in an almost desperate motion. He squeaked in surprise, trying to orient himself better on the couch into a more comfortable position before starting to kiss back, although he’d admit that he did so with much less finesse than the Frenchman.

It was strange to kiss Spy in this way, something in the way that they met feeling different than the other times Dell had kissed someone. His face was hot, sure, and he felt a little bit like he might keel over at any moment. But there was so much less intention behind every movement, something more playful and relaxed about the way Spy’s hands curled around his back. It was… nice. That was, until Spy started trying to get tongue involved, and Dell pulled away, laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Spy asked after a moment, looking a little bit dazed.

“You taste like cigarettes!” Dell laughed.

Spy’s offended look made the engineer laugh even harder. “I do not!” the Frenchman snapped in indignation.

“You sure as the devil do! It’s like kissing a hooker!”

Spy scoffed. “Well, you kiss comme un adolescent.”

“I assume that’s not a good thing?” Dell smiled.

Spy returned the look with a smirk of his own. “Non.”

The two looked at each other like that for a moment and then broke out into laughter, unable to keep a straight face. When they stopped, Dell noticed that he and Spy were still very close, and his heart skipped a beat for a moment.

He began to move away, stuttering, “Ah, well, that was… sorry if that was weird I just…”

Spy reached out for him, speaking softly. “No, no, it wasn’t… strange. It was…” he glanced away, “I am not sure I know the correct term. But I would not be opposed to doing it again.”

Something warm rushed through Dell’s chest, and he struggled to identify it. Was this love? No, that wasn’t it. Or maybe it was. Not romantic love, but something softer, yet equally as strong.

“Me neither,” Dell chuckled. He stood up, sidling over to the TV and starting to fiddle with the VCR, rewinding the tape inside before popping it out and tossing it haphazardly to the side. His eyes caught on the box of movies they still had yet to watch, eyeing a tape sitting at the top and grabbing it. He flashed it at Spy, smiling.

“I know we got a ‘one movie a night rule’ but… you up for one more, partner?”

Spy let out a sigh, nodding. “Fine. But choose a short one.”

Dell’s grin grew and he grabbed a random tape from the box, jamming it into the VCR before flopping back down onto his end of the couch. The film began to play, the screen once again casting a faint glow over the two men.

They watched it for a couple minutes, neither of them speaking much. Dell’s mind was still racing, and as he glanced over at his friend, Spy seemed to be the same. The man looked up and they met eyes for a moment. Spy opened his mouth as if he were going to speak and then closed it again, turning back to look at the TV.

Dell tilted his head, his voice breaking the silence, “Somethin’ wrong?”

Spy shook his head no, rubbing the back of his neck and trying to parse a response. “I was… well… I was wondering if we could sit… closer…” he said tentatively.

Dell let out a laugh at that. “Awwww, you wanna cuddle~?”

“Not like that!” Spy huffed, his face reddening. “Just… well…” He trailed off, looking away. “It has been… some time.”

The engineer softened at that, the sadness in Spy’s voice tugging at his heart. He tried to remember the last time he’d held someone himself. He couldn’t recall.

He scooted over, reaching out and gently pulling Spy into his arms. The Frenchman leaned into Dell’s touch in return, snaking his arms around the engineer’s back and letting out a near imperceptible sigh.

Despite his considerable height advantage, Spy felt so small in Dell’s grasp. He had never thought about how boney the man was until holding him, feeling like any wrong move could snap him in half. His muscles were tense, his entire body coiled tight like a spring as he pressed his forehead into the southerner’s chest. Dell smiled a bit at that, resting his chin on Spy’s head. Spy still smelled like cigarettes, but there was something softer underneath it, hints of wine and cologne clinging to his suit. It was nice.

“You ain’t really watchin’ the movie from that angle, ya know,” he joked.

“It is probably stupid anyways,” Spy mumbled, his voice muffled.

Dell looked up at the TV and watched a character's head get blown off by a rocket. “‘Fraid so,” he laughed.

Spy chuckled softly in return, relaxing slightly in Dell’s grasp. Dell sighed, wondering if the man ever really relaxed all the way. He was so uptight all the time, constantly looking as if he was ready to flee from any situation. Dell supposed that was part of the job, not getting caught unaware, but it saddened him to see Spy still so wound up even in the solitude of the engineer’s workshop.

Time passed and the movie went on, but Dell wasn’t paying much attention anymore. His thoughts were occupied by Spy, and the almost desperate way he clung to him. Dell had heard someone use the term “touch starved” once, and he couldn’t help that it sprang to the front of his mind. Was Spy touch starved? He glanced down and realized how tightly he was holding the man in return. Was he touch starved too?

He slowly ran his hand up and down Spy’s back, turning his head so his cheek pressed against the top of his balaclava. Dell couldn’t help but close his eyes at the sensation, the warmth surrounding him nearly intoxicating, the simple feeling of holding someone and being held in return better than anything he’d experienced before. Is this what sex was supposed to be like? He couldn’t blame people for chasing it if that was the case.

Logically, Dell knew that he wasn’t safe. His brain reminded him of the window on the east side of his workshop that he hadn’t fitted with bulletproof glass, the flimsy security checkpoints outside the base, the magnetic locks on the doors never quite closing them tight enough, the alarm on the wall that threatened to ring at any point. His heart, however, had a different idea, slowing to a calm rhythm in his chest as Spy leaned his head against it. He was shot at for a living. He closed his eyes, drinking in the feeling of it all. This was a nice change of pace.

When he tried to open his eyes again, he felt himself struggling to do so. A sudden wave of exhaustion crashed down upon him, and he shifted, intending to get up and plod off to bed. As he did, he was reminded of Spy pressing down on him, acting almost like a blanket. There was no way in hell he was going to ask the Frenchman to move. Accepting his fate, he let his eyes close again, sighing a little. He relaxed, quietly letting sleep overtake him.

[moltenwrites]

Thanks @nczaversnick for the tag!

I got tagged for a character name origins tag, but I did that very recently, and the post also mentioned talking about the characters origins, which I’ll gladly yap about!

The Artist

Gotta be honest, it feels odd that Ive BARELY talked about the artist here considering how important they are to How Our World Ended. The Artist is a God who can create universes, and observes them

The artist is a literal outline of a person, with a white line covering their eyes. They exist within a black void, as a result of destroying their own universe. The origin for this character is odd, and many years old, but I’ll try to get a good timeline.

Initially, they were just a character for me to project negative thoughts onto. Then, the idea of them being a creator of universes came into my mind. They were first put into a story during a OLD assignment which I unfortunately do not have access to anymore. While it was bad, it solidified the character in my mind. And they always stayed in the back of my mind, untill I came up with How Our World Ended. And considering how important they are to the ending, and hell, the universe of Souls Collide, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about them ( random note, but I feel like the watcher from What If was a big inspiration of the concept )

RES

Ugh, so this one is a littttle embarrassing. A lot of my older ideas have evolved a lot, and that includes the early stages where they were inspired by some…. Odd stuff ( you don’t wanna know how souls collide itself started )

Anyways, if I remember right, I always liked the idea of doing a more medieval fantasy story. Souls Collide takes place in current times, so that line of thought was always an interesting thought experiment. Anyways, in 2021 I was watching the game awards because I had nothing better to do. I was kinda zoning out, untill the live performance of the song enemy started playing. And as it played, the premise of How our World Ended, or at least a rough outline, hit me. And as time went on, more music inspired more about the story. Hells coming with me by Poor Man’s Poison gave me an idea for a second half of the story that was, admittedly, terrible. But the ending, that was cool, and it stayed. That song also gave me the rough outline of what I wanted Res to be. A revenge fueled fire soul was how he initially was gonna be. But as time went on, a lot changed. I changed him to be an ice soul, as the protagonist of souls collide is already a fire soul, and I didn’t want to overlap that. Then, Res became more fueled by grief. Now, Res is cold and calculated. He works as a vigilante of sorts, and is far more caring once he gets to know someone.

Oof- that was long, I’ll do a quick lighting round of origins that are WAY shorter.

Salazar

Two big inspos for this guy. Firstly, I always wanted to do something similar to the organization 13 from kingdom hearts. Salazar, and his past in the council of fate, was initially gonna fill that role. Over time, the council shrunk and that role more fell to the gods. Then, for his explicit personality, it was heavily inspired by moon waltz by cojum dip. Something about it just fit the guy, and me misinterpreting the wrestling mask of the album cover as a masquerade mask 100% shaped both his chilling personality and his design

Nelios

Okay I think this one is just funny. So, I didn’t plan this book well. At all. I kinda just went “ fuck it “ and let it happen. That’s why the first draft is VERY rough atm. Anyways, Nelios wasn’t originally in the story at all. I was just gonna name drop him, and maybe give him a scene or two, but when I wrote a full chapter of him, I loved him so much, he became VITAL to the story. His personality came from a mix of “ how can I make an arrogant asshole likable? “ and “ how can one make this guy a fun ass character to write “

Okay I rambled for WAYYY to long there, but I have a lot to say haha. Anyways, tag list time.

Tagging @aintgonnatakethis @ddgraywrites @jjoneswriting @revenantlore @noxxytocin @yourpenpaldee @illarian-rambling @theverumproject @autism-purgatory @gioiaalbanoart @the-letterbox-archives

@mk-writes-stuff

+ OPEN TAG

[angeart]

I only recently found ur tumblr account but i’ve been reading ur fics (I enjoy them a lot!) and honestly it’s making me itch to write. Which i’ve done before but i’ve never committed to a proper fic, so like, any tips maybe? I’ve got Ideas but hell if I know how to execute them

hi hello! happy to hear you're enjoying the fics and aww!! oh gosh. that's so sweet that my writing is making u want to write 🥺

when i started writing hmtb, i had zero expectations, wasn't sure where the story was going to go, had just a vague simple concept i thought would be fun to play with... i haven't written anything in years. i also just got the Itch™️ after reading a good fanfic.

...and then suddely i just found myself writing. (and here we are)

it's a great feeling, and i think you should follow it if u can!! :3

i'm not quite sure what advice you're seeking out here exactly. is there something specific you're struggling with? i'm going to try to list and address some things under the cut, but if whatever you were looking for is missing, feel free to ask about it!

if it's commitment you struggle with, you can always start smaller. you can try to dabble in drabbles, see how the characters and the story setting feel like and get more comfortable with them (and in a way, more curious and inspired about them!).

you can do shorter bits or oneshots—like how i have an au around sleep demon grian, but only have one oneshot fic set in it. it gets you test things out without getting overwhelmed about having to have a Big Story, and then if you decide you want to do more, you can arrange them into a series and link them thematically that way into one cohesive story anyway! (the way i do with boatem circus.)

or you can use prompts to center your works around. which, speaking of, the boatem circus' oneshot was all spawned from a thought "what if panic attacks". bayum.

honestly, i'm not best at organisation and just wing things a lot. but i do recommend you to note down ideas at each opportunity. whether it's just a concept, a dialogue, a snippet, an atmosphere, a scene you might like to play around with at some point, or a whole ass Big Rambly Thought. save it somewhere! save it all!

you can even write down what you need to figure out next. what are the points of the story you need to Think About Some More so that you can move forward? jot down the questions, too, so that you know what to focus on next time you want to brainstorm stuff.

if you're writing a longer thing, i also recommend to note down details you need to keep track of that might otherwise get swallowed up and forgotten as the focus moves elsewhere. (for example, i have a note saying scar was given a feather, and the clothes they're wearing as they're swapped/unusual. i have a note that says that hmtb scar still has flowers from grian's collapse in the field in his inventory—)

but. that all being said. the most important thing is to have fun with what you're doing and to be interested in your own story and the characters in it. i think that's really the key to it. you need to tell the story you want to see. it's gonna be for you, first and foremost, and that's important to be aware of.

which means... be self indulgent!! it's your story! go wild! do what you want!! <333

as for motivation, staying on track, and staying engaged with your story... if you can get someone to ramble at and bounce ideas off of and show writing progress to, that can be a great help! it's even great for fleshing out stories/developing things further/getting new ideas. (a lot of hmtb plotpoints were born in private DMs just because we were throwing "what if" and "imagine this" around!)

at the end of it all... it really just boils down to: start writing.

don't overthink it. open a page, and set the characters free on it.

here's a great thing: it doesn't have to be perfect.

write it anyway.

you can consider it a draft, and then you can read over it and see if you want to edit it in any way. you can have wips around. that's fine! the important part is to start <3

-----------

as a bonus here's some example chaos of my various notes. i have all kinds of things saved, this is kind of just an example of how it can look:

[moonliched]

I just got around to reading the newest chapter and as I’m giddy as always about the celestial fish <3. I am also fighting for my life over here with the Eclipse crumbs :’)

I have a few questions, though, and a lot of thoughts (and feel free to just not answer them if it’s lore or gonna be revealed sometime).

1: Sun is using distinctly British English terms.... why? (Not a bad thing!! Just weird for me bc I hear it so much irl but have never actually seen someone write with it so it stood out more and I’m curious)

2: Is Y/N actually infected with something?? The weird glowing dust on their bed reminded me of like,, spores and the like. And follow up:

2.5: Chica scanning them “secretly”. Freddy and Chica seem to know a bit more than they’re letting on, and there’s been a lot of talk about sickness and infections (I think. If my terrible memory isn’t making stuff up again). Was Chica actually telling the truth about looking for a temperature and the lie was actually by omission (because she’s also looking for something more than that, but a temperature is just a symptom)?

3: Does Y/N have the same body temperature as a human, and if not, would Chica know that?

!!Rambling incoming!!

Related to the potential spores and possible illness, there are lots of things that need a higher temperature to start growing, and the base has been at Y/N’s preferred cooler temperatures for a while until the Glamrocks showed up. Also if their recent behaviour (poor sleep, anxiety, shorter temper(?)) can be attributed to some kind of infection, Vanessa seems to be suffering from that kind of stuff too. Maybe she has it??? Also also, something had to wipe out all the mers, and a dangerous illness that spread through them fast and was able to grow quicker in warmer waters, leaving only a few with a built up immunity, would’ve definitely been enough to reduce a population.

Sorry. I’m just loving this fic so much. It’s a lot of fun, and I really appreciate you taking the time to read this, and, if possible, respond :)

:))))))) i'm happy you're enjoying💗💗💗 [offers you a handful of celestial fish arranged like a bouquet]

1: i live in the UK lol so i guess that'll come across in my writing😋 i can't say much without getting into spoilers territory, but the main factors of Sun and Moon speaking 'ancient English' is that it's English from our time period-ish give or take several decades, and they have American accents. though i haven't stated either explicitly. so why not a little British vocab sprinkled in there?

2: Y/N is infected😣

2.5: yes, exactly! Chica likely would have tried to get more in-depth data on Y/N's health if she wasn't avoiding catching their attention at the time. she was trying to be sneaky... which didn't work

3: spoilers :3

ahskdjshjsdhjss kicks my feet☺️💕 LOVING the rambling and theorising, thank you for the thoughtful ask! i hope you enjoy everything else to come💕

[rescue-ram]

Now I'm curious, how would you adapt a modern version of Mash?

Oh man thank you for giving me pretext to ramble about this. I have too many thoughts about Cursed Hypothetical MASH Reboot.

Genre Change MASH is from the golden age of sitcom and is one of the best examples of the genre. Tragically, really good sitcoms don't get made, and the shorter lengths commissioned mean we wouldn't get space for the sillier or more experimental episodes that make MASH so charming and memorable. This is also why any remake or reimagining could never replace the original. There's also less "suspension of disbelief" with modern audiences, so I think modern MASH would have to have a more grounded setting and consistent time line, so RIP time loop. I think the modern genre that would best fit MASH is dramedy. Classico MASH already had elements of "get 'em laughing so they cry harder" and Hypothetical Remake MASH would play that up. Basically, we're gonna "Better Call Saul" this bitch.

In writing out my ideas below, I realized hitting the main plot beats I imagine makes this sound like. Depressing. Which it kind of would be! But I want to emphasize that in my mind's eye this would still tonally be a comedy right up until It Isn't. Similar to BCS, characters encounter obstacles, handle them in very funny ways, but things Keep Happening and compounding and at the end you realize all those funny things have added up to something horrific and inevitable.

General Thoughts In my beautiful mind, this is five twelve episode seasons, each corresponding to a roughly six month period- the first two seasons are 1951, climaxing with Henry's death, first episode or two of season 3 is Trapper leaving/BJ arriving and then 3/4 is 1952, and the final season is 1953 and the ceasefire. Fortunately, because the characters in MASH are pretty well fleshed out with a lot of traits I think they could be turned into dramedy characters pretty easily, and you can take the Big Things that happen to them and play them straight/expand on them into proper arcs. Also, pulling in more historical details could be really interesting, and an opportunity to unpack how Fully Evil the war in Korea was. In reading more memoirs from doctors who served in MASH units, I was struck by how much contact with international forces they had, and the surprising amount of contact with their Chinese/Korean counter-parts. I think more of both of those things would be fun to incorporate into Hypothetical Remake.

Expanded Roles for Nurses We need more women. And fortunately, we got them! Even though there is Not A Lot of existing canon, I really do think we have enough on the recurring nurses to act as seeds for fuller characters. I would love to see Kellye developed as a supporting character from the start. Struggling to articulate this, but I think a deeper perspective on anti-Asian sentiment could be explored through her, possibly with some connections to the history of colonialism in Korea in particular. The character was described as Chinese and Hawaiian, but given her credited surnames of Yamato and Nakamura getting a little into her Japanese heritage and the resentment of Koreans towards the Japanese could be interesting as well. I also think "Dish" Schneider's conflict, torn between loyalty to her husband/fiancee and her attraction to the handsome funny guy who relentlessly flirts with her, could be a source of drama. I also really like Ginger's recurring "thing" with Trapper in canon, and expanding that into an actual friendship and digging into the racism and taboos against interracial relationships of the period would be interesting. You can take Margie Cutler as a young and inexperienced nurse and give her a little coming of age arc. I would also love for Knocko McCarthy to be a foil for Margaret- as the second most senior nurse, she chafes under Margaret's command and kind of collaborates with the Swampmen to subvert her, culminating in Margaret calling her out that if she didn't side with them against her, they'd hate Knocko too, and them growing closer over the series.

Ho-Jon and Expanded Roles for Korean Characters Many have written about the shitty representation of Koreans in MASH, and Hypothetical Remake could remediate that significantly. I think giving Ho-Jon (or a similar new character) an expanded role would be good, with more ties to his family out of camp and conflict over whether or not supporting the occupying American forces and the south is the right thing to do or the expedient thing. I also think there's some dark comedy to be mined from a slightly subversive Ho-Jon taking advantage of racism and being seen as ignorant or interchangeable to get away with shit. Would love for Black Market Guy to be a recurring character. There's also a great real life story I read where a MASH surgeon formed a bond with a Chinese doctor after accidentally connecting to a PLA radio channel, and I think that could be adapted into a really fun source of comedy (bonding with "the enemy" over shared indignities, surprising similarities, etc) and ultimately drama (Hawkeye finds out about a US or ROK attack that will cripple that doctor's unit or put him in danger- does he say nothing, knowing hundreds will be injured or killed including maybe his new friend, or does he commit treason and risk prison or death to warn him- and how does he live with not knowing what happened when he has to choose inaction?) Any of the Very Special episodes could be adapted and expanded. And of course, Hypothetical Remake would have Korean writers, or consultants, or at the very least a goddamn baby name book so we don't end up with a dozen characters just named Kim, or worse random syllables.

Radar I would love to keep Radar as one of the main POV character throughout the whole series and use his unique position to bridge between different storylines- he's an enlisted man so he has that perspective, he's close with Hawkeye and the surgeons, he's assisting Henry/Potter so he has ties to command, give him a friendship with a nurse and you're set. Given the comedy-to-tragedy arc of dramadys, I would love to take the book detail that he enlisted with dreams of glory and becoming a general and lean fully into that. He starts out season 1 as a sweet naive farm kid flying by the seat of his pants to figure out his job, he gets more and more enmeshed with the military over the course of the series, currying favor with the brass to pull strings to help the unit/his friends/himself, and it ends with Potter giving him a recommendation for officer school- an outcome fully framed as a tragic loss of self to a corrupt institution.

Hawkeye I think Seasons 1 and 2 in particular could be driven by the Hawkeye and Trapper committing outrages and crimes in the name of justice/not giving a shit, and then having to spend the rest of the season engaging in more outrages and crimes to Bugs Bunny their way out of consequences. The central tragedy arcing through the series is the Destruction of Hawkeye Pierce. He starts out determined to stay himself, stick to his principles, and not let the army change him. The glimmer of hope at the end is that he has survived and gets to go home, but At What Cost. I also think making him bipolar makes the most sense- early season Hawkeye hints he's had highs and lows before, but always managed to cope, but under the increasing stress his mental health gets worse. Insomnia due to overwork triggers a manic episode (adapting Dr Pierce and Mr Hyde) about halfway through S1, with a major change in his relationship with Trapper associated with that, and his first on screen depressive episode triggered by Henry's death, which gets him his week of R&R he goes AWOL from. He holds it together through S3 with increasing amounts of self-medication for BJ's sake, and S4's overarching storyline for him is a fully Catch-22 expansion of The Late Captain Pierce with increasing levels of franticness to resolve it, and S5 is a full blown "I'M NOT EVEN SUPPOSED TO BE HERE" crisis culminating in the equivalent of GFA, and a brief psychotic episode triggered by his mood dysregulation and moral injury. An expansion of The Late Captain Pierce would be a great source of absurdity and drama, the ultimate consequence of his alienation of Everyone In Bureaucracy or Command (they all dislike/hate him for his antics and disrespect in S1-3 and no one wants to help him in his predicament, with a few spitefully refusing to help outright), and necessary to explain his presence in Korea in 1953 since his enlistment should've ended by then (since key members of the bureaucracy Hate him they refuse to count the months he was "dead" as part of his service, and his father is in too poor of health/financially strained from his cancer scare to advocate for him successfully stateside). I also think "playing straight" all the nurses breaking up with him after Ceasefire could be interesting. Like, S1 Hawkeye is a ladies man who's saying all the right things and juggling multiple relationships, but after they realize he doesn't Capital L Love any of them they start to distance from him- not unfriendly, but less a source of support. That alienation from others, first with the nurses at the end of S1 then others in camp, causing a vicious cycle of increasingly erratic behavior leading to less support etc culminates in his breakdown towards the end of the series.

Trapper My beloved boy ♥️ who has less of an arc and more of a vibe in existing canon, so we get to make some shit up whole cloth. Either keep the book/movie canon they were friendly in college, or make them childhood friends- not close, but some kind of pre-existing relationship. First episode is them stealing a jeep and bonding as they get into Shenanigans and Danger on their way to camp. Some people have the headcanon that Trapper lost a brother in WWII because of Wayne Rogers' acting choices, and I think a backstory like that could be interesting. He starts out a little ambivalent about the war, not wanting to be there and very aware of the human costs, but also feeling he has a duty. As he and Hawkeye get into more and more Situations trying to expose war crimes or fix injustices and even basic supply issues and are met by indifference or incompetence, he gets disillusioned. After Hawkeye's manic episode, he decided the one Actually Good thing he can accomplish is keeping his friend sane until they can get back home, since he starts to increasingly see his medical work as futile and the UN intervention as hopeless/harmful. They get closer and rely on each other more and more in S2, and in my based and gay pilled vision this is explicitly romantic and sexual, albeit with serious ambiguity if they would've had this relationship outside the trauma of war. Towards the end of S2, Trapper starts to get sick, and it turns out stress and increased alcohol & tobacco use contributed to an ulcer- it almost seems like he'll be sent home, but as in Classico MASH he begins treatment at the 4077th- and then Henry dies. Hawkeye spirals and they have to send him away, and then Trapper has to help pick up the increased work load. His symptoms get worse and he tries to cope and hide it, and develops peritonitis. When he realizes he's going to be evacced to Tokyo and then back to the States, he has a bit of a fucking meltdown. Mission Failed, he can't be there for his friend, and he blames himself because it was partly caused by his alcohol abuse. This is not just me being a Trapper simp, he has to go home before his enlistment is up for plot reasons since we no longer get the benefit of fuzzy timeline, and the genre convention of dramedy is you always Reap The Whirlwind at the worst possible moment.

BJ Ironically, I don't need to change anything about BJ to turn him into a dramedy character. He already has a "negative character arc", and you just take the major beats of that, set them in a linear escalation, and tighten them up. He starts out bright eyed and idealistic, determined to keep his head up, do his duty, and get out. Hawkeye meets him at the air field, having missed Trapper. Hawkeye blames himself for Trapper's health problems, and wants to do better by the new guy, offering him support and guidance. BJ bonds with him through the craziness, but as stress increases he starts acting out in small petty stochastic pranks, and then Peg's letters and missing his family build his anger, and he lashes out at Hawkeye because he suspects (in that "he's not right but he isn't wrong either" way) that Hawkeye's friendship isn't really because of BJ himself but because BJ is Trapper's Replacement. He suspects Hawkeye and Trapper were more than friends and he's simultaneously jealous and repulsed- he wants to totally replace Trapper and for Hawkeye to like him best, but he also loves Peg and misses her terribly and resents Hawkeye for "making" him want him. His chaotic unhinged repression is funny until it's briefly terrifying, then sad. As Hawkeye's mental health deteriorates, he tries to be supportive, but is ultimately overwhelmed by the intensity of Hawkeye's crisis and pulls back, though they mend things somewhat at the end.

The Hawkeye/Trapper/BJ Nexus In summary, our core duos are codependent trainwrecks, but while TrapHawk are more of an enabling and felonious "Thelma and Louise" style folie a deux, BJ and Hawkeye are more of an epic highs and lows "if you can't be with the one you love love the one your with" "hand in unlovable hand" mess.

Margaret Don't have nearly as much to say about our girl because I suck and have been writing this for almost 2 hours now because I'm insane but she has one of the best character arcs in MASH and Hypothetical Remake would really just intentionally start laying out her conflicts and growth from episode 1. She would also have more independent story arcs of trying to manage the nurses, and navigating advancing her career in the face of sexism. I would love to see her messy and complicated relationships with powerful men explored more fully. She bonds with Frank first to have a relationship where she's more in control than with her superiors, then as an ally to push back against the TrapHawk Chaos, then as she grows more confident (and TrapHawk get in over their heads) she is able to let go of the cloak of power military pretensions give her and be more herself.

Henry and Potter Henry remains a lovable incompetent. The one headcanon I have I'd like to use in Hypothetical Remake is that he's pretty severely dyslexic- I base that off his mispronunciations and malapropisms and canonical issues with reading (in Classico MASH doing things like holding a paper upside down or not being able to read maps and the words on them). He got through med school by having his wife read his textbooks out loud and type his papers, and brute force memorization. This is part of why he over relies on Radar to manage his paperwork and is easily scammed into signing off on things- he really can't tell what he's signing unless he uses all of his focus to decipher the text, and he's a trusting person so he rarely does. @marley-manson I LOVE your take that your ideal Potter is the exact same character in the show but the narrative treats him as an antagonist, and that is the vibe Hypothetical Remake would have.

Frank and Charles Again not a lot to say here, secondary characters and minor antagonists, but they would remain big sources of commentary but their pathos would be played up more in a dramedy.

Mulcahy Again, not too much different from canon, just more intentional building of a tragic arc. A smart sensitive guy who grew up poor and thought the church would be a path to respect or maybe even greatness got told to be a math teacher by his diocese, enlisted as a chaplain when the war broke out as part of his personal quest for meaning and significance, is confronted by the horrors and damage to innocent lives but still tries to believe in a greater purpose and good to what's happening, struggles with feelings of powerlessness and futility, and when he's finally able to do something heroic loses his hearing, which costs him his vocation- he's permanently disabled and would be unable to return to his old role as a parish priest/school teacher.

Recurring Characters Sidney my beloved ♥️ We bring back Sam Pak as a returning character. Also General Hammond and other members of the brass. I think Oliver could work really well as a recurring character.

Klinger Whole bundle of thoughts on this guy I wanted to save till the end. Because I adore Klinger, he's incredibly funny and one of the kindest and most principled characters on the show, and he's also incredibly 70s and I don't think could work as he was in a 21st century dramedy. I can see three potential paths to adapting him. A) Lean into the young, brash, hustler side of his personality, and he's a straight guy who thinks the craziest thing someone could do is wear a dress. B) An explicitly gay character who refuses to admit to being gay for a discharge because he finds the idea of being judged less than or broken for his sexuality incredibly offensive, but did drag back in Toledo and also refuses to stop being himself just because he got drafted. C) Principled pacifist serving as an orderly because of the draft who refuses to wear the uniform and started wearing dresses as a protest against bullying/abuse- oh, your gonna call me a sissy and steal my clothes because I refuse to use a gun? I will not only wear a dress, I will zhuzh it up into something amazing, because I would rather wear this outfit you intend to humiliate me with than that damn uniform.