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sincerelyreidburke · 4 years

Note

Concept: Cole staying up late listening to music and eating cereal in the dark early in the bencole living together relationship. Rhodey goes to get water and nearly has a heart attack.

Alright, so I ficced this. And this is what I was crying over. It started as me exposing Cole for being a cereal addict and then, well... you’ll see what it turned into.

Nota bene: It is borderline imperative that you listen to this song while you read this ficlet. It’s the song that’s in the text, and also I wrote the whole thing with it on loop. It brought tears of bencole softness to my eyes.

Cole has been waiting. :’)

///

three years after graduation | june

Ben wakes up in the middle of the night, and the first thing he notices is that he’s alone.

The second thing he notices is that it feels weird to be alone. Which is a really nice feeling.

But still, he is alone. When he rolls over and looks at the digital clock next to his bed— the only thing in the bedroom that glows, at this time of night, unless you count the cityscape of Providence out the window— he finds 1:03 AM as the time.

A few things come to mind, then. First, Cole isn’t here. He could be in the bathroom, or he could be up altogether. They’ve lived together for over a month, and already Ben has learned that sometimes, when your boyfriend is a songwriter, inspiration strikes in the middle of the night, and you will wake up to find him scrawling lines in notebooks by lamplight in his studio. Wherever he is, he can’t be far, and Ben decides he’ll lay here to wait it out, just in case Cole needs him.

But then a second thing comes to mind— he’s kind of thirsty. He tries to just lay there for a minute and see if it will pass, if maybe this is just the kind of late-night wakeup where you’re conscious for a few minutes and then pass out again, but… yeah, nope. Okay. A few minutes alone in bed and he knows he should just get up and get a drink. Cole is up anyway.

So Ben rolls over, gets out of bed, and throws on a pair of boxers before he shuffles his way to the bathroom door. He peeks inside and throws on the dim shower light, but Cole isn’t in there, so he leaves their bedroom altogether and makes his way into the dark kitchen.

Ben has maybe watched too many horror movies in his lifetime, because when he sees Cole in the kitchen, he almost jumps out of his skin. Cole is sitting on the counter, facing away from him, shirtless and in sweatpants— which is a very nice sight normally, but the stark pale of his skin in the dark makes him look for a split second like a ghost or at least a very menacing figure.

The initial shock passes, and Ben lets out his breath. “Babe,” he whispers, as he approaches him. “You scared me.”

But Cole doesn’t respond— he’s hunched over and moving, and the closer Ben gets to him, the more his eyes adjust to the dark so he can see details. Cole didn’t hear him, he realizes, and he knows that because he has earbuds in, with his phone sitting on the counter next to him. And he’s— eating, Ben sees, as he stops at the edge of the counter. Cole is eating a bowl of cereal.

At one in the morning. In his kitchen.

Ben loves him so much, but he wants to laugh at the sight. He wonders if he should be concerned. Cole loves all of these things separately— eating cereal, sitting on Ben’s counter, listening to music, but… in the middle of the night?

He realizes, as he stands there, that there’s no good way to get Cole’s attention without scaring him. He’s trying to figure out what to do when Cole does the work for him; he puts down his cereal bowl and goes to pick up his phone. He turns up the screen, but then must see Ben out of the corner of his eye, because he jumps and goes, “Oh!”

“Sorry, baby, sorry.” Ben speaks at a slightly higher volume, but still feels like he shouldn’t talk full voice. It’s the middle of the night, after all. “I’m sorry.”

Cole pulls out an earbud. He looks shaken as in surprised, but not distressed. “How long have you been standing there?” he asks. His voice is raspy from sleep, and Ben would be lying if he said it wasn’t the easiest sound to fall in love with.

“Only a second.” He reaches to graze Cole’s elbow, just gently, with one hand. “Are you okay?”

Cole nods. “I’m okay.” He pushes the long part of his hair out of his face, then picks up his bowl again and says, “I just wanted cereal.”

Ben chuckles, and steps forward to rest one hand on either side of his waist. Together, they look down at the cereal bowl. He can’t tell what kind it is, in the dark, but it smells fruity. “Midnight snack?”

“Yeah.” Cole pauses, then dips his spoon into the bowl and crunches on a bite. It looks like he’s down to his last couple of spoonfuls. “Trix,” he adds.

“Aw, silly Coley,” Ben mumbles, running his thumb up his ribcage. “Trix are for kids—”

“Shut up,” Cole laughs, and then finishes off the rest of the bowl in two more spoonfuls. He sets it aside and takes a little breath before he adds, “I just… woke up and was hungry.”

“Yeah?” Ben steps forward a little, right up to the counter, and wraps his arms all the way around him. “You’re feeling okay, though?”

Cole hesitates for just a second, but nods. “I’m… okay,” he says, and then presses forward to give him a kiss that tastes a little too much like sugary cereal. Ben is willing to forgive the taste, but still.

“Come back to bed, babe,” he tells him, as Cole leans against his chest. “I’ll cuddle you.”

Cole laughs a little, and hooks his arms around Ben’s neck. When he exhales, Ben can feel his breath, warm where he’s snug to his bare chest. “But I like this song.”

“What?” Ben forgets, for a second, that he’s wearing earbuds, and then, when he remembers, adds, “How long have you been out here, if you felt a soundtrack was necessary?”

“A soundtrack is always necessary,” Cole mumbles, sleepily, against his chest, and then adds, “I guess it’s been… twenty minutes?”

“Mm.” Ben squeezes him around the waist, then pulls back to look him in the eye— or to do that as best he can, in the dark. “You should come back to bed.”

Cole leans forward, to rest their foreheads together, and Ben doesn’t move. “Just a minute,” he urges, so Ben complies.

Ben can’t hear the music, but Cole hums a little— maybe a noise he’s not even conscious he’s making. Ben doesn’t recognize the melody. He kisses the side of his face, then lets go of him and leaves him to his music for a second while he brings the cereal bowl over to the sink. It can wait until morning to be washed.

When he turns back to Cole, he’s scrolling through his phone, the little screen glow lighting up his pale face. He’s not wearing his glasses, so he squints at the screen, but he’s smiling halfway, which is a sight so genuinely beautiful Ben kind of has to take a second.

He’s had weeks to get used to this, but it’s still the best kind of new— Cole is sitting on his counter in the middle of the night, and he’s here to stay. He’s Ben’s. They’re home.

Cole looks up from his phone, and his smile grows. He stretches out a hand, spreads his fingers out, and waits. Ben threads his fingers in the offered hold, and then closes the distance between them to kiss him gently. He holds his face in one hand, and when they come up for air, Cole is holding up his other earbud.

“Here,” he says, and then presses the earbud into his hand, so Ben puts it in. Cole looks down at his phone and presses play, then smiles up at him and touches his cheek to whisper, “This song makes me think of you.”

When the music comes, it’s gentle guitar strums, and Ben doesn’t know this song— but Cole sways, gentle and content, to its beat, and he bows his head to listen. Cole threads his fingers into his hair, smoothing it down where it falls on his shoulders.

Staring at the clouds, looking for a silver lining

I was caught in a cocoon but now you got me feeling butterflies

Ben has loved Cole for a long time, and for that long time he’s known through and through how much of an artist Cole is at heart— it’s clear tonight, in this dark kitchen, as he watches him listen to the song with him. Cole’s eyes are closed, and he moves, so subtly, to the music as it ebbs and flows. He taps his hand, resting at Ben’s shoulder blade, to the beat of the guitar.

Dreaming in the lows, I never thought I’d see this high

Now I’m shooting for the moon, you’re calling me a lunar light

It only takes Ben a minute of listening to know what he wants to do. “Cole,” he mumbles, tightening his grip on his hand. Cole opens his eyes to look up at him. He’s worried for a second that it might break the moment, but the moment hangs just as sure between them, with the gentle music through the earbuds.

Ben holds up his hand and whispers, “You wanna dance?”

And all this shade is illuminating

And all those love lines are taking shape

Cole’s half-smile widens a little. He holds tight to his hand. “Do you?”

“Yeah,” Ben breathes, and then lifts him carefully by the waist off the counter. “Come here,” he says, once he has him on level ground, and then it’s easy.

Cole wraps up in him, skin to skin, and it’s probably not proper dancing form but it’s the only way Ben ever wants to dance for the rest of his life.

And all my worries, disintegrating

And I’ve been waiting, I’ve been waiting

Ben feels him breathe out with his head on his shoulder. “I love you,” Cole says, abruptly, just loud enough to be heard over the quiet music.

Ben kisses his hand, holds it to his face. “I love you, too.”

It’s one in the morning, and Cole is in his arms, and he is never going to let go.

#ben/cole #ficlet #rhode island headass #actually he's cole #crickets #original fiction #original story #writing #mel writes

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fortheloveoffanfic · 5 years

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Closer

John Wick x Reader. A/n I’ve been listening to Nine Inch Nails on repeat for days now and then I got to thinking, “I bet John Wick could be really rough in bed if he wanted to,” and then this happened .Reading and writing smut has always been very awkward for me, because really, I’m f**king awkward, I hope it hasn’t translated here though. Major NSFW warning.

“I wanna fuck you like an animal, I wanna feel you from the inside…”

Y/n walked a few paces in front of John her hips swaying in the tight fabric of her black jeans, her heels thudded softly against the carpeted floor. Before she could even get to her room, she was already peeling of her leather jacket, revealing the bruises that were littered up her arms. “This thing is filthy,” She held it up with her pointer and middle fingers, “And it smells like blood.”

“That’s your problem with this situation?” John scoffed, she always spent more annoyance on trivial things as opposed to things that actually mattered. “You almost died tonight. Fuck, we both almost died tonight.”

John didn’t see it, but he knew that she rolled her eyes, “Okay, attitude not necessary, and first of all, we almost die every week but we’re still here. And second of all, this is designer John. Cole Hann,” Y/n gave the jacket a playful shake.

John tried to laugh off her comment. Hell, he tried to listen to whatever snarky remark she had followed it up with. But he simply could not. John was too distracted by the sway of her hips as they drew closer to the end of the hall where their rooms were. How her weapon holsters were tight around her thighs, over skin tight jeans. They way the plain black tank top hugged her perfect curves. John found himself wondering if her skin was as soft as it appeared, if Y/n looked as good out of those clothes as he’d imagined. For a while now, John had found himself liking her in a way that friendship and allegiance couldn’t explain, but tonight, his crude thoughts had dominated his mind and was secretly the reason why they had almost gotten killed.

They stopped between the last two doors at the end of the corridor. John’s room on the left, Y/n’s on the right. As they lingered in front of her open door, Y/n met John’s gaze, she found that there was something in his eyes that made heat stir in her center. Y/n’s own sly, hooded stare darkened, accompanying a suggestive smirk. She’d be lying if she said that she had never wondered what John was like out of his signature suit. Maybe tonight she would be lucky enough to find out. “Want to come in?” Tension hung between them, “For drinks?” Y/n took her full, plum stained bottom lip between her teeth.

John didn’t respond immediately, but when he did, it wasn’t with words. His calloused fingers found the sliver of exposed sink between the hem of her top and the waist of her jeans and he crashed his lips against Y/n’s as she stumbled forward. “Yes or no?” He mumbled into her mouth, unable to form any other words that might have been more civil.

Y/n was already yanking John’s white shirt out of his pants, unbuttoning it from the bottom, “What do you think old man?”

“Old man?” John growled, moving his hands to cup her backside before encouraging her legs around his waist. Effortlessly, John lifted Y/n off the ground only to deposit her a top the soft sheets of the queen sized bed shortly after. “You should have some respect, little girl.”

His words intensified the pooling heat in her center and at a painfully slow pace, John shrugged off his open jacket and shirt, letting it fall to the floor. Y/n scooted up higher on the bed, propping herself on her elbows to get a better look at him. He was much better a than she anticipated. His body was a firm work of art and had the slightest definition. John’s chest was littered with scars, shining in the low lighting and there were new bruises as well.

Kicking off his shoes, John kneeled on the bed, between Y/n’s spread legs, harshly grabbing her by the feet, pulling off her shoes. Then, he undid her pants, slowly peeling them off, letting them fall where they pleased. His fingers slipped beneath the lace of Y/n’s thong and his pressed his lips high on her inner thigh, nipping and sucking the soft flesh. Her unmanned leg laid loosely, toes curled as John worked his way to so his face was pressed to the dampening fabric of her underwear, breathing in her alluring scent. She grabbed fistfuls of the sheets when he suddenly ripped her panties at the sides, discarding them near by. “John….”

He pulled her legs up, positioning them on his shoulders so half of her body was off the bed, and John pressed an opened mouthed kiss to her sex, his tongue dancing about the bundle of nerves there, sending pleasurable shocks that Y/n swore she could feel all they way in her fingertips. Her legs stiffened around his neck as he continued, her heels digging into his shoulder blades, “John,” she mewled but he didn’t respond. His tongue roamed lower between her folds as his hands travelled up her body, eventually squeezing her breasts, his fingers toying with her nipples.

Y/n gladly submitted to John, letting him have his way with her however he pleased. Her first orgasm came quickly and when John dropped Y/n’s legs to his sides, his scruff glistened as proof of where he had just been. He didn’t give a chance to catch her breath, taking her wrists in his large hands, pinning them to the mattress, right above her head, crashing his lips to hers. Y/n tasted herself on John as his tongue swirled around her mouth, establishing his dominance. Wrapping her legs around him, Y/n tried to rub her over sensitive sex against his erection straining against his slacks and boxers. Y/n didn’t want it to end until John had fucked her till she ached. “What does the little girl want?” He whispered harshly into her ear, biting the soft flesh at her earlobe.

“You,” Y/n mumbled barley coherently, her hips bucking upwards. The rough fabric of his pants created friction, but it wasn’t enough.

“Use your words baby, I want you to beg for it.” John ordered, “Beg for my cock to fuck you good.”

“John…..please. I want you to fuck me…” Y/n moans and John tugged her legs so she was half in his lap, his clothed erection is brushing her soaked entrance. “Please,” she begged.

Quickly, and harshly, John flipped Y/n over onto her stomach, “Don’t move,” he ordered getting off the bed. In a few short, hurried movements, John got rid of his pants and boxers and when he glanced towards the bed, Y/n was sprawled out her stomach, her face turned to him. She bit her lip, admiring his naked form, brushing away messy hair from lust blown eyes.

Climbing back onto the bed, John hovered over her back, grabbing a fistful of her hair, tugging roughly, “Didn’t I tell you to stay put?” Y/n swallowed thickly, trying to contain her excitement, nodding tightly against his grip. “Words,” he growled, his mouth close to her ear, his breath warm against her skin.

“You did,” she confessed, words strained as she arched herself to encourage him. John’s free hand skimmed the length of her body, his touch feather light and teasing, only lingering when he stopped to grope her hips and then her ass. Y/n squirmed beneath him, her body longing for more. “John,” she pleaded, “Please…”

In harsh, hurried movements, John flipped her again, so Y/n was on her back, her hands immediately raising to run her fingers along his chest, scraping her nails over the shine of old scars. Again, she bucked her hips and this time, involuntarily, John did as well, groaning as his tip brushed her wetness.

Single-handedly, John squeezed Y/n’s hands above her head, leaning down so her hardened nipples were pressed to his chest as her legs snaked around his hips. Without warning, John slammed into her, the violent movement almost painful, jerking Y/n deeper into the mattress and further into the pillows. She yelped in surprised when he pulled out fully before thrusting back in, just as violently.

John’s slow, rugged pace continued for a while, with his face buried in her neck, sucking purple-ish spots into her silky skin. She tasted like perfume, salt and desire and John was reveling in every second of it. Neither of them wanted it to end just yet, no one had ever stretched her the way John had, reaching her deepest points of pleasure with each roll of his hips.

Though, after a while, John grew impatient and Y/n’s pleas for, “Faster,” grew more frequent. Finally releasing her hands, John groaned as her nails dug into his shoulder blades. He held her hips in place, steading her in anticipation for a faster pace. Her sounds were some kind of corrupted heaven, the devil’s music bouncing off the walls just for him; as breathy yelps escaped her lips and she sung garbled pleas.

As John drew closer to his climax, he pressed his sweaty forehead to hers, “Louder baby, let them know who’s fucking you good.”

Gasping loudly, Y/n’s nails dug deeper into his skin, “John! Fuck John!” She screamed.

“Good girl,” he managed before harshly commanding, “Come for me baby girl.”

Beside them, on the table, the phone shrieked angrily, probably with a pesky noise complaint on the other end. But neither of them heard it and Y/n unraveled, pleasure gushing out of her, leaking onto their thighs and sheets, “God, John!”

Her cries of ecstasy were enough to have him following close behind, obscured, obscene praises grunted into Y/n’s ear as he throbbed and twitched inside of her, “Fuck Y/n, you’re so fucking good.”

After a while, John had rolled off of Y/n and they laid side by side. Their bodies glistened with exertion and their chests heaving with quick breaths. The phone had stopped ringing, with the caller probably growing tried of trying to reach them.

It didn’t take long for the ache around her lower half to set in and Y/n knew she would be nursing it in the coming days, without the slightest hint of regret. As she brushed some hair out of her face, Y/n’s breathing evened and she laughed quietly.

“What?” John asked, turning his gaze to her profile, in awe of how she could still look so distractingly gorgeous in her disheveled state.

“Nothing,” Y/n propped herself on an angled elbow, tracing absent circles on his chest, “It’s just…you’re very rough for an old man.”

John scoffed at her tease, dragging his bottom lip between his teeth before gathering Y/n in his arms, “You’re still with that huh?” Her only response was a challenging smirk. John dragged her up with him and soon she was straddling his lap, “I’m going to have to teach you a lesson, little girl.”

“Oh?” Y/n pouted, her eyes still twinkling with mischief.

John urged her off of him, getting off the bed, expertly searching through the near darkness, only returning when he found what he wanted. “Yeah,” he grinned arrogantly and finally she caught a glimpse of what he was holding. “You should have some respect for your elders,” John mused, running the cool leather of his belt through his fingers. “Now, are you ready to learn, little Y/n?”

#Keanu Reeves #john wick #Keanu Reeves x reader #Keanu Reeves x you #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick oneshot #Keanu reeves oneshot #john wick fanfic #Keanu reeves fanfic #john wick fanfiction #Keanu reeves fanfiction #john wick imagine #john #wick #john wick chapter 3

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dinoalexander · 5 years

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Your Moment of Zen: The Gourmet Academy’s Semi-Quotable 2019 Quotedown Quotetacular

Ladies and gentlemen and non-binary conforming life forms across seven star systems... the Gourmet Academy’s World Famous Get Down Like a Hound Party ‘til You Puke Semi-Quotable 2019 Quotedown Quotetacular... is ON! === “Time to play everybody’s favorite game show, Fireworks or Gunshots?” -BFG

“Goddamnit. I have to be the adult, don’t I?” -Gordon

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“Gentlemen, I wash my hands of this craziness.” -Kimberly

“Starting a petition to have Barbara Walters do the ball drop next New Years just to hear her say, ‘I’m Barbara Walters and this is 2020.’” -Chelsea

“Hello, Antonio Brown's Shiny Helmet Emporium, how can I help you? What's your pleasure?” -Carl

“Watch me whip out my Shenehneh.” -Gordon

“I feel like I’m watching one of my movies, because this whole damn thing sucks.” -John Cena

“I giggled.” -Michael

“I’m not saying BH90210 is the worst thing in the history of all recorded media, but if somebody had the theory that Luke Perry faked his own death to avoid any and all association with it, I would be willing to entertain that theory.” -Kevin

“Any day the key card works is a win.” -Joe Ovies

“She played a fiddle in an Irish band...” -Ed Sheeran “No she didn’t.” (Click) -Chico

“CBS was callin’, I’m Black Monty Hallin’.” -Wayne Brady

“Richard Quest on CNN! He's gonna ask the rest of the 500 questions!” -Klaussie

“Work. What is this work bullshit?” -Gordon

“Verizon and Tegna, when the carriage agreement ended.” -MD

“I got my words! I got my friends! I got my words WITH my friends!” -Megan

“Thoughts and prayers to the Love Boat, who had her on so frequently her name probably appeared higher up on the call sheet than Isaac or Doc.” -Kevin

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“Remember how I thought Adam Gase was a total piece of crap? I have been proven right. Fuck Adam Gase and the horse that rode in on him.” -Cyndi

“Walls? Where we’re going, we don’t need walls.” -Laura

“I’m a person who wants to be productive trapped inside a person who wants to sleep all day.” -Cortney

“Tommy Chong is a THC-list celebrity.” -JB

“Hey did you know that Francesa met Secretariat?” -Greg

“In a year when Black Panther told a story of a black superhero in a futuristic world struggling with real questions about how to deal with racial oppression, and BlacKkKlansman told a story of racial wounds in America that continue to this day and the need for allies to put themselves on the line, Best Picture went to Green Book, the story of a brilliant black musician as told through the white guy who drove him around. Okay.” -Kristin

“Advice: avoid sugar, Oregon Trail diseases, & women named in Mambo No. 5.” -Austin

“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but so will my poor eating habits and bad decisions.” -Sarah Pribis

“She was prepared to kill a cockroach with a baseball bat.” -me on overzealous providers

“I am the crocodonkey.” -Klauss

“Aaaaaand we just lost Quisla.” -C

“Can Scaramucci last longer than a Scaramucci?” -...I don’t know, somebody.

“I want dysentery! ... wait what?” -Kyle

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“OMG Parallel Universe me, stop it!” -C

“I figured out who should host the Oscars ... Colin Kaepernick! Dude still needs a job, right? Also, he’s like two or three times the size of Kevin Hart. I bet we could pay him the same amount, so it’s like getting a bargain! Of course, I’ll want a modest consulting fee from the Academy. Problem solved. You’re welcome.” -Clint

“How the hell am I supposed to put this thing together? Are there instructions or am I just supposed to wing it?” -C “Even IKEA gives me instructions in a foreign language and a tiny ass tool.” -Q

"The only place you see Success before Work is in the Dictionary: -Mauro Ranallo NXT Takeover Phoenix

“A bold statement from a guy dressed as a hippo on a talent show.” -Klauss

“If you wanted the chicken fingers that badly, you could have asked for one instead of taking the whole plate of food.” -Gordon

“Time to play “Sexy or Sleepy”?” -C

“... that means ‘Eff you, you, you, and you’.” -Jason “That’s my autobiography right there.” -Gordon

“The magic thing about home is it feels good to leave but it feels better to come back.” -Emily “Home is a bit like that.” -C

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“Hey, the Lord works in mysterious ways, but you don’t have to, USE YOUR TURN SIGNAL, ASSHOLE!” -Q

“What, you think people do coke once?” -Greg

“I can read off a TelePrompTer like a motherfucker.” -Kristen Bell

“‘Thank God we will be able to see more Pat Buchanan on TV’ said no one ever. I mean, for fuck’s sake, the last thing that is needed is another show featuring a panel of bloviating pundits. I get it. It’s cheap and easy to produce. But so is p*rn.” -Kevin, on The McLaughlin Group

“After watching HQ Words you wonder why Anna Roisman hasn't hit the big time yet. After watching HQ After Dark, you can completely understand why.” -Gordon

“If I die tonight, I want two of the Woodpeckers, two of the Football Tar Heels, and two of the Panthers to serve as my pallbearers so they can all let me down one more time.” -C, on Bad Sports Week 2019

“The first time is flattery, the second time is a lie.” -Michael

“I went to the mall with my pops. I saw something driving to there that truly shocked me. Someone had an orange Ford F650 extended cab pick up truck… With duallies… A rolling coal smokestack… And hubcaps with spikes on each of the nuts. And my only thought was… “My God… It must be MICROSCOPIC!” -Brian

“Would’ve expected to see “Employees must wash hands before returning to work”, posted in the restroom, but alright NOLA, still good looking out I guess...” -Casey

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“Oh... oh.... oh....” -Q “IT’S MAGIC!” -C

“And finally, some of y’all still out here begging (I’m mean, pure, unadulterated BEGGING) for attention (I’m talking ANY attention) and validation. Lord Jesus put that sadness away. Just put it away.” - Michael

“I’m thinking of a number. The number is 10. You go first.” -JD

“Also, I would take tasteful pics of me making pizza naked. I'm only 30 and I'm only gonna look like this once.” -Kimberly D

“I have ADD. You wanna ride a bike? I’m gonna drink some water. Rooooooam if you want to... This coffee’s really delicious. I’m a sucker for you.” -Q

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“YEAH!!!! 1943, BITCH!” -my response to Q’s retelling of the events leading up to the Battle of Midway.

“Depending upon the inflection (Bless your heart) can mean anything from “oh you poor thing” to “would you lend me your brain?, I’m building an idiot”.” -Brian

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“Betty White the Happy Homehooker.” -C

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“I’m just another brother with a game show.” -BFG

“(Unintelligible) ... Thicke of the niiiight.” -Greg’s impersonation of Gilbert Gottfried’s impersonation of Alan Thicke

“Antonio Brown doesn’t need football - ‘They’re going to play by my rules.’ A bold statement from a guy dressed as a hippo on a talent show.” -Klaussie

“You keep your head high and your middle finger higher.” -Alex

“There has to be a more scientific name for the penis. ... Intermittent organ?” —Gordon “That sounds pretentious enough to be scientific.” -C

“Zooey is saved for awkward sexy stories. Jeff Zucker is someone I don't want associated with "sexy stories".” -Dane

“Ryan is as Canadian as it gets. I think he bleeds maple syrup.” -C

“Turns out Gillette doesn’t work well with sensitive skin after all.” -Ben Rejmer

“Are you drinking something funny there, sunshine?” -Statboy

“It's so cold out here on the east coast that Jim Dolan, the brilliant genius that he is, decided to warm the citizens of Manhattan up and turn MSG into a giant dumpster fire.” -Gordon

“Ziggy is my spirit animal.” -C

“It may sound bougie, but.. you look good, you play good. You play good... they PAY good.” -Cam Newton

“We could be flying Pan Am Clippers to Venus. But MTV stopped playing music, legalized weed, and elected Donald Trump.” -C

“I get it. Tom Brady = deflated balls. Alex Guerrero = "inflates them". Hookers like Tom Brady. Damn, Alex Guerrero is better than Viagra.” -Klaussie

“I think I found the pony under the pile of shit." -Kimberly

“Skype sucks ass.” -Gordon

“In this troubled times, I like to put my hand over the kidney in my heart, stare at the moon of Mars contemplating how the wheel is older than the wall, the great things Frederick Douglas is doing & just being thankful I have ID to buy cereal, thankful for George Washington Airport victories & I don't have Windmill cancer.” -Trent Capelli...Twitter

“Sugar isn't "worse than cocaine." You're not killing yourself by ingesting sugars either in foods or in your coffee. People who are selling you weightloss programs want to tell you that you're killing yourself but there is no scientific evidence that sugar kills humans. Thank you for attending my TEDtalk.” - Shrub

“I found a love...” -Ed Sheeran “No you didn’t.” (Click) -Chico

“Many of you are wondering about my mental state after the Vols game last night. I assure you last night I slept like a baby. Sleep two hours, wake up and cry, sleep two hours, wake up and cry...” -Brian

“If you paid $7 for a Jack & Coke, you got jacked.” -Klaussie “... and Coked.” -C

“Rich Eisen getting triggered by an f’n commercial for 9-1-1 because it featured a fictional situation in a place where his kid goes to is the most white guy thing ever.” -Greg

“And now that your reagent is all nice and mixed and all the chemicals have gotten to know each other, gently put the reagent cartridge onto the instrument. Gently... GENTLY, YOU IDIOT!” -C, to himself

“... goddamned hula shirt.” -Q

“The person who wrote the article needs to be taken in the back and have their writing license revoked. And then shot. And then never be allowed to touch a keyboard again. And then have their hands chopped off.” -Gordon

“They got Bowzer next to Barbi Benton, the lucky son of a bitch.” -C

“Here's what gets me every time I see the trailer for the Cats movie...these are all successful actors. Like...nobody in this movie actually needs to do this.” -Lana

“I made Chico donate $24 to Extra Life.” -Gordon

“You guys are compact cars like I’m a gay, wasted white girl.” -Q

“HQ is like the divorced dad with a much younger, hippy dippy, girlfriend-- and the kids don't want to visit.” -Amberlee

“Suck down your coffee like you own it!” -Hollie

“DRUM SOLO!!!” -Weird Al

“You know when you’re a podcaster you need a good vocabulary. I did always have one. When I was young I mixed up Jacuzzi and Yakuza. And for a while I was in hot water with the Japanese mafia.” -Brian

“It’s game of thrones, but I’m much less Jon Snow and much more Johnny Mudstorm.” -Gordon

“Skype is being a ho.” -Jason

“It's a less-sensitive Soul Man, in a time we need no such shit.” -Klauss

“I thought you were gonna get a room.” -Chapel Hill Phil “I thought you were gonna mind your business.” -Chico “.... that’s fair.” -CHP

“For those of you who are upset about being single on Valentines Day, remember this... 99% of my socks are single but you don’t see them crying about it!” -Connor

“They are selling CBD oil at Bed Bath and Beyond?! I’m sure that’s quality stuff. Honky, please!” -Christina

“She is twisted. If she swallowed a nail, she’d shit out a corkscrew.” -Q

“Oh Taylor Swift. Patron saint of Pride Month. Thank God for straight white girls.” -Michael

“Apollo’s Chariot: “I’m the biggest baddest hypercoaster on the eastern seaboard.” Intimidator 305: “... Bless your heart.” Fury: “Both of you can hold my sweet tea.”” -C

“I don't know you and I sure as heck don't know your sister.” -Klaussie

“Nothing makes you stronger than having no choice in the matter. You’re strong because you have to be.” -Christina’s dad

“Apparently people have mistaken my professional courtesy with genuine interest.” -Michael

“Jon Bauman, you dingleberry!” -Chico a la James May

“Bad enough it’s Scott but it’s Comic Sans, so that makes it even worse.” -Nick “Gentlemen... start your whacking!” -Cyndi “PHRASING!” -Jay, Chico, JVG

“As Robert Downey Jr. once said...” -Cindy

“Whenever I see a married couple with a joint Facebook page, I never, ever have any thought other than "I wonder which one of 'em cheated."” -Adam

“Why is Dan Orlovsky talking football and why should I take anything Safetyman says seriously?” -Cyndi

“Okay, you're a billionaire and can easily afford top-of-the-line call girls at $5,000 to $10,000 an hour and you go to a sleazy massage parlor where the women smell like lavender and shame (so I've heard).” -Steve

“My floor is occupied with eggs.” -Gordon

“Quis, your thing is making noise. Can you make it... not make noise?” -C

“I’ve been waiting at the phone for 29 years hoping someone can win this cruise!” -Klaussie

“If you wanted the chicken fingers that badly, you could have asked for one instead of taking the whole plate of food. #WelcomeBackToLeague #BowlerCityThievery #CheckingTheCamerasAfterLeague.” -Gordon

“I'm proud to say I only cried five times. Admittedly, once was during the opening credits...” -Prof. O

“Phone calls in the mor-NING!” -C, describing his job as a radio jingle

“Okay, the shirt I was wearing when Liza gave me a slimy hug...I wanted to keep wearing it but I also loved the way the slime stains looked on it, so I waited six weeks to wash it so the slime stains would be totally set in. I just did laundry and there’s not a slime stain to be found anywhere on this shirt. On the one hand, mildly disappointed, but on the other hand, holy crap, Tide just made a customer for life out of me.” -Adam

"Really, you don't go back to the crazy ex-girlfriend. You leave her in the insane asylum." -Rafael Siegel, former Cash Show host

“Don't slap Charlotte in her boobs, you're just making her ANGRY!” -Brian

“Is it bigger than a Bird Box?” -Adam Nedeff’s take on What’s My Line?/Bird Box

“That song Birthday Sex is depressing when it’s your birthday and you have no sex.” -Red

“Politics politics politics Sean Spicer politics politics politics DWTS politics politics politics shimmy shimmy shimmy politics politics politics *tea sip*” -Kimberly

“We may need to add Brie Larson to the "How big is Batista's dick?" question list.” -Dane

“Chico and I not only know that we;re going to Hell, we requested a nice suite, complete with kitchen, spa and bidet, Aaron is coming also. We should have room in the suite for more if you want to join us.” -Gordon

“If Bill Cosby is telling you to get out, get out. Else, you'll get a dinner drink with a special surprise.” -Klauss

“Hey, what’s coming out this May?” -Q “(Incoherent slurring)” -C “Really? Who’s in it?” -Q “Ryan Reynolds, I dunno.” -C

“I feel like Neville Longbottom with a remembrall.” -Amberlee

“Comically oversized shit sells. It's America, bigger is better.” -Jessica

“You’ve heard of salt in a wound or lemon juice on a paper cut... but have you heard of Oxi Clean powder on a fingernail you cut too short? Pro tip: avoid that.” -Coby

“I have an idea.” -Q “OH NO!!!! NOT AN IDEA!!!!” -C

“Truck contains political promises.” -actual septic truck

“Uhh... framing?” -C

“It’s very easy to get friends on these apps if you say you’re a hot chick.” -Gordon

“Woodstock 50 cancelled after organizers determined they can’t make it as hilarious as Fyre Fest.” -Adam

“Age and wisdom divorced decades ago. Stupid people get old too.” -Austin

“They put some extra claps in this.” -C, re: CS2019 theme

“I hope she’s dreaming the biggest, bestest dreams... and I hope she never stops.” -Kathleen, on her new little girl.

“You think it’s awkward buying condoms, try returning them!” -Q

“If Mississippi State wins the Outback Bowl, we all get free Bloomin' Onions. If Iowa wins, we all get free Coconut Shrimp. If that's not reason enough to root for Iowa, I don't know what to tell you.” -Matty

“Full hearts, full stomachs, can’t poop.” -Evil Travis

“That's it. Officially referring to my boobs as my "small turkeys".” -LiyaZee

“More phone calls in the mor-NING!” -C, describing his job as a radio jingle

“Tried watching pre-debate coverage, but the phrase "brutal Darwinian logic of winnowing" sent me back to Press Your Luck.” -Heather

“...if we hold up a painting of Hurricane Dorian, will it die?” -Amberlee

“Hey Cindy... you married that.” -C

“Literatively? Okay.” -Gordon

“I plan on going with Chef from South Park's line on that one -- "There's a time and a place for everything, and it's called college."” - Kristin, on “Break Up With Your Girlfriend (Because I’m Bored)”

“Allegiant Stadium. Much like the Raiders... A WORK IN PROGRESS.” -C

“Nobody could sing like Milli Vanilli… But let’s be fair neither could they.” -Brian

“Gar-a-giola, Gar-a-giola, STRIIIIIIKE IT RICH! Gar-a-giola, Gar-a-giola, STRIIIIIIKE IT RICH! Strike! It! Riiiiich! Strike! It! Riiiiich! Gar-a-giola, Gar-a-giola, STRIIIIIIKE IT RICH!” -Nedeff’s lyrics to the love theme from “Strike It Richl by Hal Hidey

“In God we trust, all others must provide research-based, peer-reviewed data.” -Aryn

“Go-gurt™: because fuck spoons and decency.” -Sarah Ann

“Like I said ESPN is to the Patriots what FOX News is to the Republican Party.” -Greg

“That is like walking hepatitis.” -Tim DeLaGhetto

“Will there be any trivia questions on your trivia question show?” -Erskine

“I’m a journalism major, so I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” -BFG

“That’s Right is the Adam Gase of trivia apps.” -Greg

“And yes, Bill Maher does in fact molest collies, and goats...and sheep...and Chicago Bears. 😜” -JVG

“In the words of my dear uncle Paul, ‘Google it, bitch! I’m not here to educate you!’” -Nikki

“You know what they call the guy who graduates last in medical school?” -Megan “A doctor!” -C

“You can never win an argument with an idiot or an asshole. Idiots don’t know they’re wrong, and assholes won’t even consider the possibility that they could be wrong. You can’t help it if you’re an idiot sometimes, but don’t be an asshole. Just something to think about going into 2019.” -Clint

“No Ganos is good Ganos with Graham Gano.” -Tim

“Enough loonies to fill up the Bank of Montreal.” -Klauss

“In the age of auto correct no less, it makes me shudder when I see the leader of the free world making fifth grade grammar mistakes.” -Q

“You look like who did it and why.” -Mary

“Ow, my check! ... I mean, ow, my neck!” -Big Rick

“This woman on Wheel of Fortune has two grandchildren named Kennedy and Nixon, and I have questions.” -Melanie

“You’re the President of the United States and getting dragged by fucking Burger King. It’s just... wonderful.” -Shannon

“Classy, Like a White House Big Mac.” -Actual team trivia name

“Sex is a mistake 9 out of 10 times.” -Michael

“Who signs the cat?” -Carl

“This feels like an SNL sketch. Where’s Bill Hader?” -Greg

“Yeah! And uh...I played HQ with one of them in a hotel room. Wait, that sounds creepy.” -BFG “More than that. (No, THAT sounds creepy.) You have played online trivia with one of them. Surely you ran into or at least saw others in Vegas.” -Klaussie

the subject: The Jeopardy! All-Stars

“Step 1: Go to McDonald's. Step 2: Order a Shamrock Shake. There, now you don't have to read the article.” -Prof. O via Evil Travis. The question: “How to order a Shamrock Shake.”

Lunch lady: “Hey Dino! Get me a grape soda! I’m thirsty!” C, after an insane amount of giggling: “You said it, not me.”

“Some bitch decided she wanted to be a bitch.” -C

AP headline on Twitter: "Tim Tebow struggling in Triple-A; still a work in progress." GSNN: "Funny -- so was 'Million Dollar Mile'."

“The Bosa brothers = MAGA Gronk. Don't @ me.” -Klauss

“... BASSOON SOLO!!!!!” -Weird Al

Greg: “Crying Game Cereal. A surprise in every box.” (Everyone dies for, like, five minutes) Chico: “... I’m going to HQ.... YOU NEED TO GO TO CHURCH!”

“Aunt Becky has some stupid kids.” -Austin Rogers

“I wanna be 21 again and ruin my life differently... I have new ideas.” -Sarah Pribis

“Mannnn listen!! It's time to just throw the whole R. Kelly away!!” -Bruce

“By the time all is said and done, I will have been awake for 24 hours.” -C “Rookie.” -G

“Instead of airing new LI episodes, something tells me CBS is better off rerunning “The Mentalist”. -Doug

“Well they went over as well as a ham sandwich at a kosher deli.” -Q

“Drop it and get out of here!” -Carl’s boss

“The call is coming from inside the wheelhouse.” -Ullsperger

“I am the Marquis de Asshole.” -Gordon

“Elizabeth Banks’ ass is America’s ass.” -C, with apologies to Paul Rudd, Elizabeth Banks, and Bill Carruthers

“Don't have an iPhone or iPad? Maybe you can beg at the boots of your betters, proletariat scum!” -Megan

“Tom Brady and Bob Kraft shaking hands and whispering into each other’s ear... ‘Hail Hydra’.” -C

Jason (discussing the Masked Singer): “The Hippo was ANTONIOOOOOOOO Brown!” Brian H: So THAT'S how the Madden Curse happened this year.

“Manish Mehta is on 92.3 The Fan right now. My first thought after hearing him for 5 seconds: He sounds like Aziz Ansari as The Bookworm on that SNL GSN show parody a few years ago.” -Klaussie

“Look at me, I’m Sandra Bullock.” -Nick

"That's Britain for you. Tea solves everything. You're a bit cold? Tea. Your boyfriend has just left you? Tea. Coordinated terrorist attack on the transport network bringing the city to a grinding halt? TEA DAMMIT!" — LiveJournal user jslayeruk

“Temporary emotions lead to permanent mistakes!” -C

“Tuesday night wasn’t just biscuits. Roy Williams went ahead and got the dirty rice to go with it.” -Adam Lucas after Carolina made State humble, 113-96

“Shaka... when the paywalls fell.” -Kevin

“Barbi Benton... ROLL TIDE!” -Greg

“I love when you ask for recommendations for establishments, services, recipes, products, etc., and people respond with, "Did you Google it?" Like, Thanks, Karen! I hadn't thought to use the easily-accessible, number one search engine in the world before! I'm totally not looking for recommendations based on actual experience from personal friends who will give me honest feedback, so I'm glad you directed me to Google!” -Cindy

SWSNBN: “Can your cover for me while I eat my sandwich?” C: “Go eat your sandwich.” SWSNBN: “I’ve got nothing going on.” C: “You’ve doomed us all. Go eat your sandwich.”

“If life gives you lemons remember: life was very honest about how many people it'd been with.” -Austin

“Two hours after lunch is still after lunch! BOOK SAY SO!” -C

“Remember, two wrongs don’t make a right, three rights make a left, and I’m Kyle Serra, quiz responsibly.” -Kyle

Q: “The answer fell into the pizza!” C: “Well now not only is it correct, it’s delicious.”

“Tom Brady just got the sixth stone. Half the NFL is about to vanish.” -Nikki

“I’m Max Essodus and I’m leaving!” -Klauss

“Chuck Todd is a bowl of Jello with a bad goatee and a shitty hair cut.” - @PhillyLocalGuy

“Leonard Frey! Leonard Frey! Anytime you call, Leonard will take care of you! Winter, Spring and Fall!” -Chico

“I THINK I’M BREAKING EVERY FCC RULE IN THE BOOK!” -Kevin Harlan calling two NFL games at the same time

“Horrible news to report, Baby Yoda has died after Myles Garrett beat the shit out of him with a helmet.” -Barry McCockiner

“The Yankees are like Roman Reigns: they’re good, everybody still hates them, and they always kick out of your finisher shm” -Mike Janela

“My nightmare is being stuck working for a guy that looks like Chris Cillizza” -@ChadShartman

“Mel Gibson/Rothschild casting is most inspired decision since Richard Spencer was chosen to write the screenplay for the new Frederick Douglas parody bio pic.” – Josh Marshall

“OOOOH! A LITTLE BIT OF THE BUBBLY!” - Chris Jericho

“Minecraft? HELL NO!” -Amberlee at RewardTheFan on Minecraft RewardTheFan

“109876543210, Happy New Year!” – Kyle @ Trivia Crack

“LYDIA CORNELL IS NOT A BIMBO!” -Mike

Tony Stark: “Hey, you said one out of fourteen million, we'd win, yeah? Tell me this is it.” Doctor Strange: “If I tell you what happens, it won't happen.”

America, let me just tell you something, do not commit crimes with checks.” –Charles Barkley

“I bet George Halas and Pop Warner are up there now coaching Angels in the Heaven Bowl.” –Cord Hosenbeck

“The director saw Green Book and was inspired to make a bigger disaster of a movie about race.” –From the IMDb Trivia Page for Loqueesha

“Drew Brees and Harry Styles fighting over a Pepsi is Peak 2010s.” -Chico

“The aging app? I didn’t know there was an app that helped Mike Maccagnan make his freaking draft picks!!!” -@DAitken90

“For all the notes and stats FOX gave out, they missed that this was the very first post-season game in history where two wife-beater closers gave up two-run home runs in the 9th.” -Ken Levine

Chico: “Man, Bowzer ruined this!” Mike: “Just like the second half of the show Bowzer ruined this!”

“Amazon Suggestion for David Pecker: Because you considered “Blackmailing the Richest Man Who Ever Lived,” we recommend you “Get an Orange Jumpsuit.” –Stephen Colbert

“When in doubt, choose Helium!” –Megan

“They should make a Mistress Pac-Man. Ghosts chasin’ her around the apartment Pac-Man rents for her, eatin’ all the strawberries and chocolates he sends and whatnot. Then the last level Ms. Pac-Man is after her ass like “Oh HELL no that’s MY round yellow man!!!” –George Wallace

“God is a woman and her name is Hailee Steinfeld” -@dakotalanthimos

“I stopped by the Statue of Liberty today, thinking about freedom, and the ability to go for it all.” –Bill Walton at the Pac-12 Tournament in Las Vegas talking about being at the NY-NY Casino

“today marks LaGuardia Airport’s first positive contribution to America.” –Jack Holmes on the end of the Late 2018-Early 2019 Government Shutdown

“BEAT THAT GHOST DICK!” -Matt Richards

Greg: “What if the Monster on The Masked Singer is Michael Cohen?” Mike: “If it is that will almost guarantee there won’t be a second season of The Masked Singer.”

“Roger Clemens tried to smash Mike Piazza’s head with a baseball bat and was still less of an asshole than Curt Schilling.” -@[email protected]

“I love all the diversity in Star Wars. There’s brown people and someone with a Boston accent” -Dani Fernandez

“I don’t care that Brock Lesnar won Money In The Bank, I want to know if Brett Somers won Money In The (BLANK)” -Mike

“Woodrow Wilson even with a stroke was sharper than Donald Trump is today.” –David Frum

“THE JABRONI OF THE JABRONI MOVIE FOR THE HOLLYWOOD BLONDE JABRONI NEED TO HAVE THE MOST EXCELLENT LEADING HEAL TO MAKE THE IRON SHEIK LOOK LIKE THE LEGEND. PROBLEM NOBODY HEAL ENOUGH TO BE THE LEGEND. THIS WAY ONLY PERSON THAT TAKE THE CHRIS HEMSWORTHLESS LOOK LIKE HE THE REAL BABYFACE IS THE LEGEND IRON SHEIK. OTHERWISE THIS MOVIE WORSE THAN THE NOTEBOOK AND WORSE THEN THE JABRONI BETTE MIDLER BEACHES” –The Iron Sheik

“As far as I’m concerned, that’s America’s ass!” - Scott Lang “That is America’s Ass.” - Steve Rogers “America’s Ass? Are you talking about Tom Villard?” - Mike

“Oh Jesus, it’s Jimmie Walker’s turn!” –Chico

“Where’s the Robert Kraft spa video? I’d rather watch a video of my own funeral.” –Gerard Mulligan

“So, does Jeff Zucker have to completely cause CNN to lose money and get devalued so badly it gets bought out by Comcast for him to replace Vince Russo as “worst Turner Broadcasting hire ever?” -Dane

“I was just researching Mark Russell as a "Whatever happened to...?" He's still alive.” –Matt Jones

“And all of ESPN and FS1’s morning shows are just the worst. People who watch them actually come away dumber for doing so. I don’t understand the appeal of watching idiots on either network yell biased opinions at each other...many of which are lacking context or facts beyond what they see on a caption of a social media post. It’s like going to a comment section and watching arguments.” -Dylan White on the Awful Annoucing Facebook comments section

“Hunter, Kiss my ass.” –Dave Bautista

“The fact that the CEO of twitter can have his account hacked is a blinding indictment of twitter’s security policies. The fact that no one could tell the difference is a blinding indictment of jack himself.” -@ChrisSmith_RSB

“I don’t know anybody who loves or even likes Trey Wingo.” -@SlicedBrett

“A Madea Star Wars” must now be a thing…” –Amberlee

“People are like "the New York Post is bad for that cover, subscribe to the Daily News instead!" as if the Daily News didn't run a screencap of a woman being murdered on it a few years back. They're both pure trash. Neither are better.” -Craig Calcaterra

“Tim Burton’s Dumbo brings out Michael Buffer TWICE to say “Let’s get rrready…for Dumbo!” and I laugh again every time I think about it.” –Ken Jennings

“Who the hell is Dr. Lee Franz?” –Jason H.

“I was in the theater and that moment was revealed and the audience was “OOOOH!” and I just was laughing so hard!” –Ron Burgundy remembering the ending of “The Crying Game”

“Ladies and Gentleman… whatever legitimacy pro wrestling has left literally crawled under the ring.” –Chico critiquing the workrate of Colin Jost

“BANODLES, ARE YOU READY TO GO SHOPPING, YOU SON OF A BITCH?” -MIKE

“Can y'all imagine if the Gremlins and Jason Vorhees both attacked at the same time that would be some difficult shit to deal with anyway talk to you later” -George Wallace

“Trump getting impeached over the Ukraine is a little like Scorsese getting the Oscar for The Departed, but hey recognition is recognition.” -John Ross Bowie

“Alex Trebek is a fixture in the American firmament and we're all behind him. What a great man, so kind to my family and so warm to all of us contestants. Send him your love.” -Austin Rogers

“Rather than bore you with my expansive knowledge of British politics, allow me to comment on more pressing matters: drunken Chris Jericho getting his belt stolen” -Mike Tunison (@xmasape)

“Only ESPN would do a feature on Robert Kraft taking former players to Jerusalem — while he awaits trial for soliciting prostitution in a sex trafficking ring.” -@willgcopeland

“Looking forward to the “In Memory of Jim Cornette’s Career” graphic that will be starting Dynamite.” - Trevor Dame

“Tom Steyer sounds like a guy who airs MLK and Columbus Day ads, where you can get a new Mustang or Fusion for up to $6,000 off MSRP” - BFG

“Eh, what’s her name? Her name Barry Lonson. She’s in da, she won Oscar for the movie “Stuck In The Basement”. Also, she’s in the movie “Kink Kong: He Got Love With Her” but how he make sex with her, she’s young, she’s small and he big. I don’t know?” -Yehya reviewing Captain Marvel

“To this day nobody knows who Ann Risley is.” -Chico

“Heartbreaking: there is apparently no video I can find of this moment, where a robot named "Mr. Scraps" delivered a ball to James Doohan (Scotty from Star Trek), who had just arrived in a dry-ice-and-laser-bathed Delorean to throw out the first pitch in "The Biodome". Please enjoy this real quote from the Mariners former VP of marketing: "We named the robot Mr. Scraps, because it looked like a garbage can on wheels. Not exactly what we were expecting, but it served its purpose." [email protected]

MC Cool Cloud: “No union better mess with my family!” Cloud 9 Employee in Training Video: “Oh, MC Cool Cloud, (pats stomach) you’re gonna be the best dad.” Garrett: “I’m sorry, did MC Cool Cloud just impregnate a human?” Mateo: “I think he did.” “I’m in shock, Gene. I just talked to my accountant and I found out this guy made 30 grand and I’m working for minimum scale.” -Marty Cohen on MG-HSH Episode #12 “It would be kind of weird for a person named Tammy to be played by Tim Dunigan.” -Mike

“Chico's brain only has so much memory. It's either the capital of Botswana, or something you rambled at 3AM while white-girl wasted. Only one of those nuggets of wisdom is a panty-dropper, and I think we all know which.” -Laura

“So, the audience for SNL seems to be comprised of easily offended Catholics, YouTube “influencers”, and Trump. But Lorne Michaels still thinks he shouldn’t retire? Because if I learned those people watched something I produced, I’d eschew all technology forever and go live in one of those Unabomber log cabins.” -Kevin

“Morning report: The "Fuck Your Feelings" crowd sure gets triggered easily.” -Rick Wilson

“ZIPPERS?!” -Klauss

“We’s considerin’ buddies.” -C

“Automan’s naked and wearing a belt? I don’t get this!” -Klaussie

“You were standing in his crotch!” -Anna

“I am utterly surprised there were no traces of Batman cereal yet Greg's dad made at least 2 appearances.” -Klaussie

“Next time, can you pick a gas station that ISN’T in the middle of nowhere?” -C

“Did Isaac ever deliver cold hard cash direct to your PayPal account? No!” -Greg

“Too many phone calls in the mor-NING!” -C, describing his job as a radio jingle

“Semi-Quotable of the 2010s--Hundreds of quips enter, Adam Nedeff wins because he's funny and he has half of Hollywood under his thumb.” -Klaussie

“You’re not you when you’re thirsty.” -Q, the Double Entendre of the Year

“Nobody ever robbed a convenience store to get sugar money.” -Brandon

“If you're mad at rich peoples kids for getting special acceptance/treatment at college and you aren't mad about all the athletes that get the same thing you're a hypocrite. Ya'll leave Aunt Becky alone.” -Stephanie

“Damn it! I used too much stick.” /Ethan

“And her tights say two cents a dance.” -Kimberly

“Go home, That’s Right. You’re clearly on meth.” -Evil Travis

“I paid $700 for THAT?!” -Klaussie

“Florida is now under a Jim Cantore watch.” -Braden

“Good Brother, but Bad Mother!” -Gordon

“Dude. Even Nike hates Duke!” -D

“For 15 points, Will Smith’s arrogant cousin Hillary appeared in an episode of NBC’s hit sitcom Blossom. Another episode of blossom featured Don Novello playing the role of Father Guido Sarducci, and Father Guido Sarducci also popped up on an episode of Married...With children. Stay with me here. David Faustino’s character Bud Bundy also popped up all the Fox network sitcom Parker Lewis Can’t Lose. In another episode of Parker Lewis Can’t Lose, Parker crosses paths with grown-up Eddie Haskell, who of course,We all remember from Leave It to Beaver. His next-door neighbors, June, Wally, and Beaver Cleaver were all characters in an episode of the Love Boat. Now there is this other episode of the Love Boat where all of Charlie’s Angels are on board. In an episode of Charlie’s Angels, Dan Tanna shows up from Vega$. But that’s not important right now. Remember when I said Parker Lewis had crossed paths with Eddie Haskell? Well Eddie also popped up on an episode of Hi Honey I’m Home. So did Gale Gordon‘s character Mr. Mooney, who you might remember from the Lucy Show. There’s an episode of the Lucy Show where Lucy crosses paths with Private Gomer Pyle, USMC, who, of course originally appeared on the Andy Griffith show, which was a spinoff of Make Room for Daddy. On an episode of Make Room for Daddy, Danny encounters Buddy Sorrell, one of Alan Brady’s writers on The Dick Van Dyke Show. Alan Brady later appeared on Mad About You, where Ursula was the twin sister of Phoebe from Friends, and Phoebe’s friend Chandler Bing showed up on Caroline and the City, where Caroline draws a popular comic strip that is read and enjoyed by Daphne Moon, the caretaker for Dr. Frasier Crane’s disabled father. Dr. Crane used to hang out at a Boston bar called Cheers, where Norm, Cliff, and Carla encounter Drs. Auschlander & Westphall, but on a landmark 1988 broadcast, we learn that Drs. Auschlander & Westphall never existed and that all of the shows I mentioned in this question are logically the figments of the imagination of Tommy Westphall, Who is the only character who demonstrably existed on what beloved medical drama?” -Adam

“Snapchat Catch Phrase!” -Will & Erinn

“#1800235DEAD!” -...damn near everybody

“Charles Stiles, Mystery Diners.” -Charles Stiles, Mystery Diners

“This tea is delicious.” -Kimberly === Here’s to 2019... Come together, just think of tomorrow.

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swimming-squids · 7 years

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The Wolf

With the token in hand and his pendant around her neck, she walked through the Hinterlands. A wolf stalked her in the distance, but this was not the Fade.

A generic little thing I wrote because I couldn’t the idea of Solas sending wolves to watch over Lavellan out of my mind. I’m not sure how it'd work but I want it to.

Roughly 850 words, Post-trespasser Solavellan Angst

It’s been six months since she saw him last, since she lost her arm forever and with it, her love. She distracted herself with the disbanding of the Inquisition and her clan’s needs but she needed to get away. Away from the weight of the world and the weightlessness she felt without him in the near-empty halls of Skyhold.

“Why didn’t you tell me what was wrong? Why did you leave me all alone?”

She carries the token from when they freed the black wolves from that demon’s grasp, but she doubts she’d need it anymore. She has no fear of wolves now. One was always in the distance, both in and out of the Fade. Sometimes the same one would track her for a few days, a week at the most, but oftentimes they switched in the middle of the night once she finally forced herself to sleep. Today’s was a mottled brown female, one she recognized from earlier that summer.

“Did you do this Solas? Is this your way of staying near?”

It pained her to even think his name. With it brought too many thoughts and emotions she couldn’t process. She strained to put the token around her neck, instead wrapping her fingers around the pendant, running her thumb across the now dulled teeth to center herself. She passed by the former horse master’s home, waving to his wife and putting a strained smile on her face. Josephine had helped her in that respect:

“Crinkle your eyes… yes! Now you are playing the Game.”

She never understood how some just had the ingrained knowledge of how to act in different contexts. She smiled with Solas, she smiled with Cole, and Dorian as well. They understood her strengths and her weaknesses. Solas was like her in some ways, reserved and solemn unless overcome with emotion. Cole always knew how she felt, even without her speaking. Dorian just treated her like he did everyone else, full of attitude but attuned to her energy for interaction. But now each was gone, to Tevinter, to taverns, to… somewhere.

Her thumb picked up its pace in its rhythmic movement just as her breath turned hasty.

“He’s gone. He could be hurt. He could be dead.”

But he can’t be, for the wolf still tracks her. Her feet have carried her to the wolf den.

“I’ve been in the fucking wolf’s den for longer than I’ve known this place to exist.”

Collapsing to her knees, the memories finally overcome her resolve. This had been their place to escape for a few hours when the sounds of camp overwhelmed her ears, past the point that her hood could help. He’d build her little pebble towers or towering stacks of rocks to entertain her eyes while she calmed her senses from their overstimulation. She’d skip across the strange basalt columns, on a personal mission to find a smooth stone amongst the rough to gift to Solas. Now this den was just as empty of their love as it was of wolves. It wasn’t until the wolf padded into the den that she was pulled out of her mind and back into the present. Her eyes followed it as it walked up a sloped rock, laying on one of the basalt towers, yellow eyes trained back on green the whole time.

“Why are you here!” she screamed. “You’re all worse than he is, at least he keeps himself out of my sight, away from my pain.”

As her tears began to fall, the wolf just closed her eyes and laid her head down against the stone. The tears never stopped, she had no one to calm her, Solas was not here to build stone stacks higher and higher till they toppled over. So, she did what she used to do, pressing her palm against her eye to stop the flow, pressing what was left of her other arm against her side. Eventually, the sobs turned to a dry hiccup, and she gathered enough composure to glance around the stone ravine once more.

The sun was beginning to fall in the sky, casting long shadows on the spires. The wolf still slept on the stone shelf above her. Her fingers found his pendant once more, and she decided to take tentative steps towards the sleeping form. She tried to walk quietly but her breath was still shaking, so once she got within 10 feet of the creature it opened its eyes and gave out a huff. But she kept on walking. She wanted to pretend that this was all because of the token, just some knowledge the wolves had, some instinct they gained to protect the one who saved them; but something deeper inside knew otherwise. As she closed the gap the wolf once again closed her eyes and laid back down. Kneeling down, Hal’len reached out as the tears came again. The sun finally dipped completely beneath the high walls of the ravine and as her world filled with darkness, she curled up on the cold stone floor with one hand buried in the fur of the wolf Fen’harel sent.

#my writing #first thing I've really written just to write #constructive criticism is welcome #solavellan hell #lavellan #dragon age: inquisition #angst #posted at the urging of a dear friend

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anavoliselenu · 7 years

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Heart of stone chapter 5

I awoke to the sound of an alarm going off, shrill and piercing in my ears. I groaned as I reached over to shut it off, wishing that I could hit the snooze button again. I had stayed out entirely too late and I regretted giving in to Allyson’s ‘just one more drink’ plead.

I was exhausted.

When I had gone to bed the night before, I was sure that sleep would come quickly, the effects of dancing and a little too much alcohol helping me along. Unfortunately, I had no such luck. Instead, I had tossed and turned most of the night, the sandman evading me for hours, until I eventually drifted off sometime after three in the morning.

I forced myself to roll out of bed and get ready for the interview. Groggy and fuzzy with exhaustion, I trudged into the bathroom and started the shower – full force and blistering hot.

I chanced a look in the mirror and saw that my eyes showed little signs of rest. The dark smudges under them would be difficult to disguise with makeup, on top of trying to cover the yellowing remnants of my bruise.

I climbed into the scalding shower and leaned my head against the tiled wall. I allowed the steam to envelop me and thought about the whirlwind of emotions that had consumed me during the night.

My history with Trevor had come back to the forefront of my mind, and I cursed Allyson for bringing him up. I had tried to force the depressing memories of Trevor from my head, only to find my thoughts slowly evolve into visions of Justin Stone and the feelings he stirred deep inside me – feelings that I didn’t want to feel and had kept buried for so long. For the first time in years, I was physically attracted to a man. It pained me to admit it, even to myself.

I got out of the shower and towel dried my hair. I knew that I had to stop thinking about all of this nonsense, especially since the probability of seeing Justin again was slim to none.

I’m being ridiculous. Time to screw my head back on and focus my energies on the interview.

Moving to my bedroom, I turned on the stereo. Music was my own personal therapy. I couldn’t play an instrument, and I could barely carry a tune – but I could feel music. The right melody had the power to change my mood in an instant, and that’s exactly what I needed right now to help reign in the desolate memories and unwelcomed thoughts.

I perused my iPod for the right thing and finally settled on “Stompa”. The catchy toe-tapping tune was the perfect solution to get my body moving. I pressed play, closed my eyes, and allowed the singers deep melodious voice wash over me. As the beat of the song began to pick up, a gradual smile formed on my lips and my head started bopping in time to the ascending bass line. Already feeling an upshift in mood, I made my way to the closet and looked for something to wear.

When I finished dressing, I spun slowly in the full-length mirror, taking in all of my five feet six inches. I had chosen a simple knee-length navy blue skirt and a matching suit jacket over a cream colored blouse. Low pumps on my feet and pearl teardrop earrings for my ears completed the classic look. I had styled my hair up in a loose twist, praying that it would stay put until my interview was over. My makeup was subtle, with just a hint of coal on my eyes and a touch of pink gloss. I thought that my overall appearance looked smart, without seeming presumptuous.

I checked the time on my nightstand clock.

Crap!

I took me too long to get ready and I couldn’t be late. I needed to land this job. As it was, I slept in later than I had intended and didn’t leave myself any time to research Turning Stone Advertising. I was going into the interview blind.

I turned off the stereo, sent a silent thanks to Serena Ryder for fixing my mental state, and dashed out the door.

When I had reached the main lobby of my building, Philip, the doorman, was there to greet me.

“Good morning, Miss Cole,” he said, his jolly face crinkling with a smile.

“Morning, Phil,” I answered distractedly. “I need a cab today. Could you call for one please? I’m short on time, or else I’d enjoy the good weather and go on foot.”

Normally I would have talked with the retired cop for a minute or two, but I wasn’t feeling very chatty at that moment. Anxiety over the interview was starting to set in and I was eager to just get it over with.

“I shouldn’t have to call for the cab. There have been quite a few on the street today and waving one down shouldn’t be a problem. Come with me.”

I followed Philip outside through the lobby doors, blinking at the sudden wash of sun, and waited for him to hail me a cab. My foot tapped impatiently on the curb. It had been over a month since my last interview and I was a bundle of nerves.

“Big day, Miss?” Philip asked, looking down at my foot that was attempting to beat a hole into the sidewalk.

“Yes, a job interview,” I answered with a worried smile. The cab pulled up and Philip opened the door for me. “Wish me luck!”

He nodded and gave me a small salute as he closed the yellow car door behind me. I gave the address to the driver and the taxi sped away.

****

Traffic was terrible upon entering the financial district, but we still made good time. For once I was thankful for the fearless and reckless driving of a New York City cabbie, despite the fact that my knuckles were white from hanging on to the seat so tightly.

When the cab screeched to a halt at our destination, I paid the driver and stepped out onto the pavement. I looked up apprehensively at the impressive structure towering before me. There was a large sign above the main entrance that read Cornerstone Tower in silver lettering. A sleek ornamental spire soared high above the building, piercing a stray passing cloud.

The sheer size of the place was intimidating, and I found my steps towards the revolving glass doors to be somewhat hesitant. I tilted my head from side to side, stretching my neck like boxer headed into the ring.

I need to relax. I’ve got this.

However, as much as I tried to talk myself down, I was still a nervous wreck when I walked through the main doors. I knew that my career opportunities in New York were starting to run out. If I wanted to stay in the city, it was vital that I ace this interview.

The vestibule was large and it took me a moment to locate the security desk. There was a man wearing an official looking uniform behind a polished mahogany wood counter. He was looking at the security monitors and didn’t notice my arrival.

I cleared my throat and said, “Excuse me, sir. My name is Selena Cole. I have an appointment with Laura Kaufman today at nine o’clock.”

The security guard glanced up at me before looking down at a logbook on the desk. He ran his finger along the page until he located my name.

“Yes, Miss Cole. Just take the elevator to the fiftieth floor. Ms. Kaufman is expecting you,” he said with a kind smile. He pointed down a corridor to his left. “The elevators are just down that hall.”

“Thank you.”

I made my way across the blue veined marble floors towards the bank of elevators. When I reached them, I typed the floor number into the keypad.

Here goes nothing.

The doors slid opened and I stepped inside. My ears popped as the elevator climbed higher and higher. When the lift finally reached its destination, a lavish waiting area came into view.

The room was furnished with several slate gray leather sofas. They were contemporary in style and positioned in a U shape off to my right. A low glass table sat in the middle of the sofas, displaying some sort of small stone sculpture. Eclectic artwork in varying shades of grays and blues adorned the stark white walls.

When I looked to my left, an attractive woman in a killer designer suit stood up from behind a desk. Her suit was a vibrant emerald green and it hugged every one of her flawless curves. Her makeup was impeccable and not a single strand of her angled bob was out of place. She looked professional, yet exceedingly sexy at the same time. When she walked around the desk to where I was standing, matching six inch green stilettos came into view.

I would kill myself if I ever tried to walk in shoes like that.

I was suddenly very self-conscious of my modest navy blue jacket and skirt.

“You must be Selena Cole. I’m Laura Kaufman.” She smiled and extended a perfectly manicured hand to me.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Kaufman,” I replied as I shook her hand. She appeared to be in her early thirties, younger than I had anticipated based on our brief phone conversation. Her voice was so gentle and sweet, that I had pictured her to be the grandmotherly type. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Please, call me Laura. Just one moment please.” She walked back behind her desk and pressed a button on the desktop phone. “Excuse me, sir. Miss Cole has arrived for her interview. Shall I bring her to your office? Or would you prefer the conference room?”

“Come to the conference room, Laura. I’m just finishing up with something,” said a male voice from the speaker.

Laura turned back to me, “If you follow me this way, I’ll bring you to Mr. Stone now.”

Mr. Stone?

My eyes widened in surprise upon hearing the name.

No way. It can’t be the same guy. Mr. Blue Eyes. Mr. Keep-me-up-all-night-dreaming-of-sapphire. Impossible.

Then the light bulb went on, a blinding glare that almost knocked me flat on my ass, as I remembered all of the things that I knew about Justin Stone.

Stone Enterprise. Stoneworks Foundation.

My stomach dropped as panic began to set in. The building that I stood in was called Cornerstone Tower. And I was about to interview for a position at Turning Stone Advertising.

It has to be the same Mr. Stone. How can I be so ridiculously obtuse?

I cursed quietly under my breath, knowing that the smart thing to do would be to leave immediately.

If I can’t figure out what one plus one is, I’m obviously unfit for the job.

“Forgive me, Ms. Kaufman, but I assumed that I would be interviewing with you,” I said with a wobbly smile, scrambling to think of a way out of the situation.

“I’m sorry?” She looked confused by my statement.

“I, um…” I stuttered as I tried to think of something – anything that might prevent me from coming face to face with Justin Stone again. “I didn’t realize that I’d be interviewing with Mr. Stone. I assumed that since you were a large company, you would have an HR department handle your hiring,” I explained, not able to come up with anything better. I could only hope that this actually was a large company.

Realization dawned on Laura’s face.

“Mr. Stone must be considering you for an important position, or else that would normally be the case. Our human resources department usually handles the initial applicant screening. However, Mr. Stone personally conducts all of the interviews for high potential candidates,” she clarified with a smile.

High potential?

My palms began to sweat as I silently followed the strawberry blond Laura to the conference room. Her subtle red hair was a reminder of all the articles that I had read online about Justin Stone’s preference for redheads.

But surely that can’t be a prerequisite for working for him? Or can it?

My stomach constricted into a nervous knot. Everything about the situation was terribly wrong. Not only was I a fool for not connecting the dots, but I also had the wrong hair color for the job.

Someone like Justin Stone would want to hire someone smart and witty – not someone who’s tongue got stuck to the roof of her mouth every time he was near. This was a disaster in the making. He was too distracting, nothing but sex and sin and every girls spiciest fantasy. I couldn’t imagine the thought of going through an entire job interview with him.

I felt like I was walking through a tunnel, my nerves gradually taking over every rational part of me. Apprehension caused my steps to lag slowly behind Laura as she made towards the door at the end of the corridor.

I toyed with the idea of bolting right then and there, but my window of time for a quick exit had ended. We had reached the conference room. I took a deep breath and made a conscious effort to still my fidgeting hands.

Keep it together – it’s a job interview. I’m overreacting.

Feeling only slightly more composed, I stepped through the door that Laura held open for me.

Maybe it’s not even the same Mr. Stone.

But it was.

Justin Stone stood facing away from me at the far end of the room. Even though I couldn’t see his face, there was no mistaking his powerfully built physique. He was on the phone, with one hand in his pocket, looking out through floor to ceiling windows at the Manhattan Skyline.

He turned to see Laura and me standing there and motioned to me to sit down. I looked at Laura for direction. She smiled and pointed to a chair near the end of a large etched glass conference table. I sat down and took a minute to further calm my nerves and take stock of my surroundings.

The furniture was sleek and modern. The table at which I sat was large enough to seat at least thirty people. The center of the table displayed a long, boat-shaped glass bowl, filled with blue, white, and black stones. There were several high-tech looking videoconference phones on the table as well.

The walls were all painted the same bright white as the waiting area. Two enormous flat screen television panels adorned the wall to my right, one of them tuned in to Bloomberg TV with the volume muted. On my left, recessed shelves held a collection of blue vases, all varying in shade, size, and shape. The far wall was nothing but glass, revealing and impressive view of New York. The room surely exhibited power and wealth, but it was nothing compared to the man who stood in it.

I studied Justin Stone as he paced the back of the conference room. He wore black suit pants and a white shirt. He wore no jacket again today, but I saw that he had one draped over the back of one of the conference room chairs. His silver tie was loosened at the neck and his top button was undone. He looked comfortable and self-assured, and carried himself with an air of sophistication and poise. He appeared larger than life, as if he were holding the world in the palm of his hand.

“Would you like something to drink? Coffee, tea, water? Mr. Stone is just finishing up his call,” Laura offered, her voice low so as not to disrupt her boss. I looked up at her mannerly smile. I had almost forgotten that she was there.

“Yes, please. Water would be great,” I accepted, mirroring her hushed tone. Holding a glass of water would give me something to do with my hands, which fidgeted once again in my lap. Any sort of caffeine would just wreak havoc on my already tremulous nerves.

Just as Laura placed the glass of water on a coaster in front of me, Justin ended his call and turned around to face us.

“Thank you, Laura. That will be all for now.”

“Yes, Mr. Stone.”

With a small nod, Laura quietly exited the room, leaving me alone with the formidable Justin Stone.

He turned his attention to me and flashed a dazzling smile, revealing perfect white teeth.

God, this man is undeniably gorgeous.

“Good morning, Miss Cole. I apologize for the wait. I hadn’t anticipated my call to run so long.”

That’s okay – I was enjoying the view of your scrumptious behind.

“It was no trouble at all,” I murmured, rather than voice my real thoughts.

He made his way towards me, his swagger ever so prominent, and sat in a chair next to mine. He leaned back, crossed an ankle over one knee, and casually folded his hands together. For some insane reason, I felt myself blushing. I had to remind myself to breath.

“Miss Cole, are you okay? You look flushed.”

My hands immediately went to my face as I scrambled to find my voice.

“I’m fine. It’s the high elevation. Sometimes it makes me light headed,” I lied as I reached for my glass of water. I swallowed a huge gulp.

“High elevation?” he questioned skeptically.

I took another drink of water.

“Yes, this happens to me whenever I’m in tall buildings,” I said, continuing the fib in a rush.

Tall building is an understatement. Stone owns a skyscraper.

“I see,” was his only response.

If I wasn’t mistaken, I thought he looked amused.

He probably is. Women must fall all over him every day.

However, I didn’t have the luxury to be amongst those women. I had to put the breaks on and get my wits about me. This was a professional interview for a real job. I could not allow myself to blow this because my stalled out libido decided to suddenly kick into overdrive.

“Did you know that I was the one you were interviewing? Because I don’t believe in coincidences,” I blurted out.

Smooth, real smooth.

“Of course,” he answered without prevarication.

“I figured as much. But I have to ask, how did you get my résumé?” I asked with honest curiosity, finding myself relaxing a bit.

I can do this.

“It was only a matter of making the correct inquiries, Miss Cole. I was intrigued after our meeting at Wally’s and wanted to find out more about you. I asked a few simple questions, and I learned that you were a marketing major. An informal background inquiry filled in the blanks. Since I happen to have a position available in marketing, I arranged an interview with you.”

“You ordered a background check on me?” I asked, instinctively feeling violated.

Didn’t he need to obtain my consent for that?

I wasn’t sure what to think about the infringement of privacy.

“It was nothing that technical, I assure you. Everyone I consider for employment receives a basic check before an interview is even scheduled. It makes things easier.”

“Easier in what way?” I asked.

“Easier for all parties involved. You’d be amazed at what social media can reveal about a person,” he replied nonchalantly, a smile forming ever so subtly on his lips. We sat there in a silence that seemed to stretch on for hours, yet I knew it was only a few seconds, a minute at most. I’m sure he sensed my unease, but he continued to watch me with one eyebrow tilted up, his eyes alight with humor, before finally speaking again. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“That I’m amusing you somehow,” I admitted frankly.

“There’s nothing amusing at all, Miss Cole,” he said, the corners of his mouth switching. I knew he was fighting a smile and it was irritating.

What the hell was so damn comical?

“Really? Then why does it seem like you’re trying not to laugh?” I retorted, a little bit too harshly.

“Your behavior tells me that you didn’t know I would be conducting your interview today. Is my assumption correct?” he asked, humor still evident in his features.

I’m such an idiot! I should have prepared for this!

“Um…sort of. Yes.”

My statement earned a small chuckle from him and it was maddening. I couldn’t help but jump on the defense.

“Do you always laugh at your prospective employees?” I challenged.

“I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing more at the quandary that I find myself in. I’ve never met a woman quite like you. I find your innocence refreshing. Most women I meet are very calculating and extremely predictable. You’re different somehow.” He paused for a moment, his brow furrowing. “It’s a nuisance, actually.”

His arrogance astounded me and I found his generalization of women insulting.

“I’m sorry that I don’t fit into a preselected mold, Mr. Stone. Would you rather I played into your defined notion that all women are the same?” I asked him, my voice loaded with contempt.

“You’re asking an awful lot of questions, Miss Cole.”

He had stopped smiling now and his eyes turned icy.

Oh, shit. He’s right.

The entire situation was beginning to spiral out of control. I was asking too many questions that I had no right to ask. I was probably fired before I was even offered a position, and it was one that I gravely needed.

My kneejerk reaction was to lash out. But I was too outspoken for my own good and it could cost me this job. Temper aside, I knew that I was being a hypocrite. After all, I was the one who thought that all men were the same. So I silenced my tongue, feeling ashamed at my boldness, and looked down at my hands.

He is Justin Stone, mega-rich millionaire, and I’m being rude.

“Can we proceed with your interview now?”

“Yes,” I answered meekly.

“Yes, Mr. Stone,” he added with an air of quiet authority.

My head snapped up.

Yes, Mr. Stone?

He hadn’t yelled. Yet, there was no need to. His subtle command was enough to detonate through my system, causing a knot to form in my gut. He was a man well accustomed to getting what he wanted.

Warning bells went off as I recalled my conversation with Justin from the day prior. My initial impression of him was correct – he really was a control freak. Every instinct that I possessed was telling me to leave the room immediately and that this was bad. Really bad. Yet, for some totally insane reason, I found myself mildly aroused by his assumed authority and the power that emanated from him. It compelled me to stay rooted to the chair.

“Yes, Mr. Stone,” I repeated like a parrot.

I was like an errant child who had just been scolded, my voice small and pathetic to my ears. I couldn’t believe that I was actually listening to him.

The mood swings that I had experienced since entering this room were making my head spin. Anxiety, anger, embarrassment, and lust – I had felt them all and I struggled to find stability within the hurricane.

I saw him looking down at my fidgeting hands. I stilled them immediately and took hold of my glass of water.

I need to remember why I’m here – I need this job.

“That’s better,” he murmured. He sounded satisfied, his face revealing a tiny smile. Whether it was because I stopped fidgeting or because I followed his order, I couldn’t be sure. The one thing I did know was that the balance in the room had rapidly shifted. I remained quiet and waited for his lead.

“There is a position at Turning Stone Advertising that needs to be filled. While the company is merely a subsidiary of Stone Enterprise, I occasionally get involved in their day to day business requirements.” He got up from his chair and walked to the window. With confident grace, he clasped his hands behind his back and continued, “I am always on the lookout for qualified and experienced applicants. In my world, incompetence is not something that is tolerated. I like my people to be driven, reliable, and efficient. When I give a direction, I expect it to be followed to the letter, without question. When I find an individual that fit this persona, I hire them, and pay them well so that they continue their employment with me. You, Miss Cole, have displayed that potential.”

“I appreciate you seeing the potential in me, Mr. Stone,” I responded respectfully, making sure to say his name properly.

“Exactly how much still remains to be seen,” he said thoughtfully, almost as if he were speaking to himself.

He turned to study me for a moment. His careful scrutiny was intimidating. He reminded me of a lion stalking his prey. If I gave him the opportunity, I knew this man was capable of stripping my soul bare. No man has ever affected me in this way. He was irritating, arrogant, and alluring all at once. My stomach began doing that annoying flippy thing and I shifted uncomfortably under his penetrating gaze.

“Tell me about your job duties at Wally’s.”

“Well, um, sir – Mr. Stone,” I stumbled over my words, trying to remember whatever the hell it was I did at my current job. “I mainly stock shelves and build displays. Occasionally, Mr. Roberts will have me bring groceries as a courtesy to the homes of our elderly clientele.”

“That’s a very noble thing to do. It makes me feel good about my investment decision.”

“So you’ve decided to invest in Wally’s?” I excitedly asked, momentarily forgetting that I was supposed to maintain a professional demeanor. As much as I wanted out of my current place of employment, I enjoyed my time there. I didn’t want to see Wally’s close and was happy to learn that the grocer might be saved.

“I am not going to invest in them per say. My business is in real estate, not retail food chains. I’m just going to buy their buildings, which will help relieve some of their overhead expenses. There are a few wrinkles that still need to be ironed out, but I’m confident that an agreement will be reached sometime within the next month.” He seemed annoyed at my interruption and didn’t elaborate any further about the deal. Instead, he continued on with his interview questioning. “You have a bachelor’s degree from NYU in marketing. What made you choose that as your major?”

That question had me stumped. Nobody had ever asked me that and I never seriously considered the reason why I had chosen marketing. I just liked it.

I mused over his question for a moment before coming to the conclusion that my fascination was in sales. I thought that answer might sound lame, but I had nothing better so I went with it.

“I understand and appreciate the power of persuasion. Marketing, in a sense, is sales. If marketed correctly, you can sell anything. You just need to accurately target the buyer.”

“The power of persuasion?” he seemed surprised at my answer and tapped his finger thoughtfully on his chin.

“Yes. I believe that persuasion through advertising can be viewed of as a form of art. For example, a television commercial may convince an individual to buy a product that they don’t really need if it’s marketed correctly. Images, music, presentation – it is all one big package, crafted and bundled up to influence the consumer.”

“Very true,” he said with an appreciative nod. “Now tell me, what persuades you, Miss Cole?”

He cast me an unsettling look, one that made me feel another little twist in my belly.

“Persuades me? I’m not sure that I follow you.”

“What influences you, or sways you, to do something you normally wouldn’t?”

“Music,” I stated simply, fighting to keep my faculties together. He cocked one sexy eyebrow at me, waiting for me to say more.

Focus on the question – not his eyebrow!

“Care to explain?” he pushed.

“Music can be a powerful source in marketing. For me, the right tune has the power to influence me one way or another in just about anything.”

“That’s very interesting insight,” he said with a catlike smile, making me think that he had a secret that only he was privy to. He leisurely walked back to the table to reclaim his seat next to me. “I’m curious. What sort of music would influence you?”

“Um…” I squirmed uncomfortably in my chair. “Well, I guess it would depend on what you were trying to sell me.”

“Ah, but maybe the bigger question would be – are you looking to buy?” he asked suggestively.

Heat flooded my face for what seemed like the five hundredth time in the past three days. I hated that I blushed so easily and I automatically brought my hands to my face to hide my cheeks. A strange and unfamiliar ache began between my legs, only adding to my mortification.

“High elevation getting to you again?”

“Something like that,” I mumbled, and I would swear that my face turned ten shades redder.

Turned on by interview questions. Great. I’m out of my tree.

“Tell me about your experience,” he said suddenly, changing directions.

“My experience with what exactly, Mr. Stone?”

His cryptic line of questioning was confusing. I couldn’t keep up. Perhaps I really was going crazy. It was either that, or his mere presence was turning my brain to marshmallow. I couldn’t be sure.

“Your experience in marketing and advertising, of course.”

He watched me, eyes full of wicked humor, waiting for my response.

This has to be the strangest interview ever. He read my résumé. He knows the answer. Why would he ask me that?

“Everything is on my résumé, Mr. Stone. There’s not much more that I can elaborate on,” I flatly responded.

It was probably the worst answer that I ever gave in an interview, but I had a nagging suspicion that he didn’t give a rat’s ass about my experience in marketing. The twisting in by belly intensified, the conversation making me uneasy. It was full of double meanings and suggestive implications.

“I see.” He seemed frustrated that I didn’t give him a better answer.

The intercom buzzed, making me jump, and Laura’s voice came through the speakerphone on the table.

“I apologize for the interruption Mr. Stone, but your ten o’clock appointment is here.”

Ten o’clock appointment? Have I really been here for an hour?

“Thank you, Laura. I will be finished momentarily,” Justin responded through the speaker, sounding mildly annoyed.

My interview, if you could call it that, had clearly come to an end. I stood up and straightened my skirt. Justin Stone stood as well, his intense gaze never wavering, as he watched my every move. I felt naked, despite my blouse and skirt, and my skin grew hot under his scrutiny. I tried to figure out what he was thinking, but his facial expression was unreadable, cool almost. Yet, I was able to detect a sense of uncertainty in his eyes. His stare made me self-conscious and I immediately moved to smooth out my hair.

“Your hair is fine, Selena.”

Holy crap – he called me Selena.

I wondered what made him drop the formalities.

“Uh, thanks,” was the only response I could muster.

“It’s a bit restricted for my taste, but fine all the same.”

What’s that supposed to mean?

I was trying to fathom what he meant by that, when he reached over to one of the phones and pressed the intercom button.

“Laura, please reschedule my ten o’clock.”

Holy hell – he wants to keep me here?

I didn’t know if I could handle another minute in his presence. I wasn’t myself when I was near him. My careful guard, the walls that I tightly clung to whenever I was near another man, seemed to crumble to the wayside with just one look from him. I could feel my heart begin to race as I watched him move at a slow pace towards me, a predatory gleam shining in his eyes.

He took a step closer and reached for my hands. I would swear that my fluttering heart stilled at the contact.

“Why do you twist your hands the way that you do?” he asked, his sapphire eyes blazing into mine.

Was I fidgeting again?

I hadn’t even realized I was doing it.

“A nervous habit,” I explained. Incapable of withstanding his fiery gaze, I turned my head to the left and focused on the blue vases along the wall.

“Look at me, Selena.” He reached one hand up to turn my chin so that I was forced to face him. Something dark smoldered in the depths of those ruthless cobalt blues, and I wondered if he was going to kiss me. My legs trembled and I cursed myself for wearing pumps rather than flats. “I make you nervous,” he said, his voice becoming deep and throaty.

I couldn’t talk. I was a wreck.

When I didn’t respond, Justin removed his hand from my chin and slowly ran a thumb over my brow. My breathing suddenly became shallow, as the air seemed to turn thick and suffocating.

“Your bruise is healing nicely.”

“Yes it is,” I agreed, my voice barely above a whisper. He was way too close to me, clouding my senses so that I couldn’t think straight. I tried to step back but he still held my hand firmly in his.

He leaned in closer and I could feel his breath hot on my neck. I allowed the smell of him to envelop me – a mix of sandalwood and his natural male scent. The combination was deadly, like the sexy smell in the air that tempts you to stay outdoors right before a wicked thunderstorm. And at that moment, I was more than willing to be struck by a bolt of lightning.

“This will never work, Selena. I’m a bad match for someone like you. If you were wise, you would leave my building and never look back,” he warned, his voice low and thick in my ear, causing a prickle at my nape.

The thought of why he might not be good for me had my toes curling in my shoes. I didn’t care how bad he was. I could be the judge of that later. I dismissed the pesky voice in my head that said all men were evil. The devil was out and he was doing a tap dance on my shoulder. The sudden need to taste Justin’s lips on mine was overwhelming.

He moved his hands and softly traced the pads of his thumbs over my collarbone, causing a tremor to course through me. He placed his palms on each side of my neck and his fingers rested at the base of my skull, making a circular motion at my hairline.

I was coming apart at the seams.

I closed my eyes at the intimate contact and allowed a small moan to escape my lips. His mouth hovered temptingly over mine. I could only hold my breath in anticipation of the kiss that I knew was about to come.

The intercom buzzed again and Laura’s voice came through the speaker, loud and intrusive.

“I’m very sorry sir, but Ms. Andrews is insisting on keeping her appointment. She’s on her way up from the lobby now.”

Justin let go of me suddenly, as if I had shocked him, causing me to stagger back a few steps. My knees wobbled and I had to work to steady myself. My head was reeling.

Damn you, Ms. Andrews!

I didn’t know who in the hell Ms. Andrews was, but I despised her at that moment.

I looked at him, now standing a good ten feet away from me. He closed his eyes and ran both hands through his hair. He gave his head a slight shake, as if he were attempting to clear it.

When he finally looked at me again, his expression was blank. There was nothing in his appearance that would have revealed what had happened in the last few minutes.

“I would like to finish your interview, Selena,” he finally said, albeit rather abruptly.

“When would you like to reschedule, Mr. Stone?” I asked, my words sounding faint in my ears. I could barely get the words out, my body still swimming with unexplainable desire.

“I don’t know…” His voice trailed off, uncertainty briefly clouding his features. However, he regained his composure in an instant, once again adorning a poker face that showed no emotion. “It’s probably best for both of us if you leave now, Miss Cole.”

Formal. Back to business.

His tone was firm and detached. It was as if a switch had flipped and he appeared completely unaffected by our encounter.

I was more than just a little bit stunned. I felt rejected. Speechless. I could only stand there, a shaky mess, gaping at him.

What game is he playing at? Is he going to reschedule or not?

And does he want me or doesn’t he?

In a daze, I bent to retrieve my purse from the chair where I had been sitting. When I turned, Justin was waiting for me by the door.

“Laura will be at the reception desk waiting to see you out. Have a good day.”

And with that, he spun on his heal and exited the conference room.

Well, that’s just fine and great, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. If you want to play head games with me, then you’ve met your match.

I was the master at wearing masks.

I quickly put on an expression of disinterest and exited the room, displaying an air of confidence that I didn’t truly feel. I certainly didn’t need the lovely Laura to walk me out. I would show myself out.

I rounded the corner that would take me into the waiting area and made my way towards the leather sofas, walking at a measured pace. So preoccupied with keeping up my façade, I almost collided straight into a woman that was coming towards me.

She was strikingly beautiful with long, shiny black hair. She wore a deep purple colored high-neck cotton dress that covered her slender frame from head to toe. The only show of skin was from the slit that ran up the side of her leg. The dress wrapped her body so tightly, that she might as well have worn nothing at all.

“Excuse me,” she said impatiently, as if she was in a hurry. I quickly moved aside to let her by and continued towards the elevators.

I heard Laura call out to me, but I ignored her and kept on walking. I knew that I was being petty, but if I opened my mouth, I risked crumbling my control. The elevator doors were opened and waiting. I needed to get to them quickly before they closed.

I stepped into the elevator and hit the button for the lobby. I just wanted to go home to think. I needed to figure out how I let all of this happen. Before the doors slid shut, I spotted Justin stepping through the door of an office off of the waiting room. The beautiful black haired woman hurried towards him and embraced him in a hug. I sucked in my breath as if I’d been sucker punched. There was no denying the affection that passed between them.

Justin looked over the shoulder of the woman. His blue eyes locked on mine.

Why, you son of a bitch…

That was all I could think as the elevator doors slowly slid shut.

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