#{ I tried to tie this into that idea we talked about/you suggested! About them having a conversation about their creators! }

[alinathinkstoomuch]

DENIM DAY

pairing: aaron hotchner x fake!fiancee!reader summary: its denim day at work and you opt for the shortest miniskirt you own, but not before snapping a pic and sending it to your boyfriend who is not a happy bunny. warnings | an: suggestive, lots of teasing, allusions to a footjob LOL, hotch puts on tights for reader, hotch is whipped we all say in unison, yall this was going to go in a complete smutfest direction but i decided to behave... for now, established relationship word count: 2.3k

✧ masterlist

Hotch should’ve been relieved to not be out on a field case. To know that he’d be getting out of the office at a decent time, that there wouldn’t be extra forms or reports that needed to be completed because he was behind his desk all day. It should’ve been a pleasant reprieve – except that it wasn’t. Not in the slightest.

Not since he stupidly opened the picture you sent him.

Apparently, it was Denim Day at your office, and instead of opting for a pair of jeans like any reasonable person might, you’d decided on a skirt – if he could even call it that. He wasn’t sure there was enough fabric to qualify.

He wished, with everything in him, that your workplace had a strict dress code. But even if it did, it wouldn’t apply to you. You were in charge, after all. Hell, Denim Day was probably your idea.

And he vaguely remembered you mentioning shoots scheduled all week, which meant people. Lots of them. Models, makeup artists, photographers – all of them walking around while you were dressed in that ridiculously short skirt. All of them seeing what he was still trying to unsee.

He managed to make it through the rest of the morning with some semblance of focus, though his attention span had taken a noticeable hit. He read the same report three times, signed a form he wasn’t supposed to, and snapped at Anderson for no real reason – though in his defence, Anderson had knocked over his coffee.

By the time noon rolled around, his jaw was tight, his tie felt too constricting, and he’d definitely spent more time than necessary staring at the clock. He was just about to stand when Rossi strolled into his office, holding a printed menu like he was offering a peace treaty.

“We’re ordering from that little Italian place you like. You want your usual?”

Hotch shook his head, already reaching for his coat. “No, actually. I’m stepping out for lunch.”

Rossi’s brows lifted. “Stepping out? You?”

“Yes, Rossi. I do occasionally eat outside the building.”

“Of course you do,” Rossi said, clearly humouring him. Then came the smirk – that smirk. “Seeing your fiancée?”

Hotch exhaled slowly, fingers pausing on the lapel of his jacket. “She’s not my fiancée.”

“Eh. Technicalities.”

Hotch didn’t respond, mostly because the longer he stood there, the more obvious it became that yes – he was going to see you. That the whole morning had been a slow, agonising burn of frustration and that if he didn’t get in his car and head to your office soon, he might actually lose his mind.

By the time he slid behind the wheel of his SUV, Hotch had managed to convince himself – for exactly three blocks – that this wasn’t a bad idea. He told himself he was just going to check in, maybe have a quick lunch. A normal, professional, not-at-all unhinged visit to the woman who had sent him a photo in a skirt that had no business being worn in public.

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

This was ridiculous.

You’d done this on purpose. He knew it. You’d chosen that skirt knowing exactly what it would do to him, knowing how tightly wound he was, how much of your games he could barely tolerate when you were in sweatpants, let alone when you looked like that.

He tried to talk himself down, told himself that he should just turn around and go back to the office. Eat the damn Italian food. But as he pulled into the parking lot outside your building, he was already unbuckling his seatbelt.

And getting out of the car anyway.

The one small mercy was that your office was on the ground floor – no need for stairs. Not that anyone needed to take the stairs, not with perfectly functioning elevators in the building. But of course, you were the exception.

He’d learned the hard way that you sometimes insisted on taking the stairs “to get your steps in.” You’d even lectured him about it once, accusing him of being “alarmingly sedentary for someone who tackles serial killers for a living.”

He really, really hoped today wasn’t one of those days.

The front doors slid open as he stepped inside, the cool blast of air conditioning doing nothing to steady him. The office was its usual burst chaos. Racks of clothing being wheeled around, someone shouting about a missing pair of heels and a latte order gone wrong, but all of it blurred in the background as he spotted Bella at her desk near the entrance.

She looked up from her laptop, blinked once, and then grinned. “Agent Hotchner, didn’t expect to see you here today.”

He nodded, keeping his expression neutral. “Is she in?”

Bella didn’t answer right away. She tilted her head slightly, as if weighing how much trouble she wanted to cause. “She’s in her office,” she revealed, casually reaching for her phone. “Door’s closed, but I’m sure she’ll make an exception for you.”

Hotch ignored the insinuation. Or tried to. “Thanks.”

He started down the hallway, taking long strides to your door. When he reached the frosted matte glass, he could make out the faint outline of your silhouette behind it.

He raised a hand and knocked twice.

 “Come in,” you called out.

So he did just that.

And did he get there just in time.

You were bent over your desk, heels planted, back arched slightly as you read whatever was in front of you. At the sound of the door slamming shut behind him, you straightened immediately, nearly jumping out of your heels.

“Aaron!” you gasped, hand flying to your chest as you turned around. “You scared me.”

“Good.”

You circled behind your desk, all faux professionalism. “Did we have something in the calendar? Did I forget lunch?”

“You forgot pants.”

You laughed, pulling the measuring tape from around your neck and tossing it aside. “I’ll have you know I’m absolutely wearing pants. Under this one-of-a-kind denim skirt, thank you very much.”

He didn’t respond, just stared.

“Is that why you came all the way over here? To conduct a pants investigation? I’ll let you guess the colour if you’re so curious.”

“They’re red. And I got a full view of them the moment I walked in.”

You grinned, entirely unbothered, grabbing a stack of images from your desk before striding over to the whiteboard. “And?” you tossed over your shoulder. “Do you like them?”

He liked not seeing them anywhere but your apartment. Or his.

“You’re very quiet today, Hotch Hotchner. Something on your mind?” You pinned one photo up, then glanced back at him. “Have you had enough water?” you added sweetly. “And no – coffee doesn’t count.”

You pinned another image to the board, like you hadn’t just called him Hotch Hotchner and asked about his hydration levels while wearing a skirt that should not be allowed in a professional setting.

“Water,” he echoed finally. “That’s what we’re talking about now?”

“Well, we could talk about the real reason you’re here… if you’d prefer.”

His eyes moved down to your skirt and then back you to your face – your smug face because you knew exactly what you were doing. “I came here to see if you’d like to grab lunch.”

You turned back to the board, smoothing an image with a soft gradient of colours. "Lunch," you repeated thoughtfully. "Hmm. That sounds suspiciously wholesome for someone who's been undressing me with his eyes for the last five minutes."

Hotch sighed through his nose. "It's just lunch."

You glanced over your shoulder, eyes sparkling. "Right. Just lunch. And what if I said yes?"

"Then we go," he said, folding his arms. "I open the door for you. You roll your eyes at me. You make fun of my order. We eat."

"And then?"

“And then I bring you back here.”

You turned around slowly, lips quirking. "All very gentlemanly of you, Agent Hotchner.” You let a breath out, dramatic as ever. “Alright, I’ll bite. You can take me to lunch as long as I'm back before two. I have a very important meeting with Milan."

His eyes tracked you as you moved to a drawer on the far side of the room.

And bent over - again.

His jaw tightened, his hands slipping into his pockets, like that would somehow stop his mind from going straight to hell. You were still talking, something about calendar holds and fabric samples, but he couldn't hear a single word. 

Because that skirt? It should be classified as a weapon. 

Then you turned, holding out a small bundle of black fabric like it was nothing. "Could you give me a hand?"

He eyed it warily, already suspicious. Tights.

Of course it was tights.

Still, he took them without hesitation, because you could've handed him a live grenade with that expression, and he would've thanked you for it.

"My hands are super dry and the fabric always snags when I put them on. Honestly, it's a sensory nightmare. Could you do the honours?"

"Your hands are super dry?" he repeated, just as you reached for his jacket and started tugging him towards you, walking backwards until you perched on the edge of your desk, like it was the most reasonable place in the world to stage a wardrobe adjustment.

"Yes, it's gross, really. Skin's peeling off and everything. I'd usually slather them in hand cream, but l've been touching samples all day and I don't want to leave greasy fingerprints all over couture, so now I'm suffering."

That sounded almost half logical. Right up until you kicked off your heels, lifted one leg, and rested your foot just shy of his crotch. He tensed just as you pressed your heel the slightest bit closer. “Pretty please? You know I have delicate hands.”

He should've walked away. Should've told you to put them on yourself. Hell, he could've offered to go grab lunch and save you the trouble entirely. But what did he do instead? He lifted the tights – the ones made of delicately-thin fabric that somehow felt heavier than his gun – and began to bunch them up in his hands.

His eyes dropped to your legs, still resting against him like an invitation. All he had to do was take your ankle, lift it just a little higher, and he'd have a full view of the red lace panties he already couldn't stop thinking about.

If Rossi ever found out what he’d gotten himself into the one time he decided to step out for lunch, Hotch would never hear the end of it.

Before you could get him off with nothing but the arch of your foot, he forced himself to move, sliding the tights up your leg. “This is absurd.”

“You’re doing great,” you encouraged delightfully. “Though, should I be worried that you’re good at this?”

He didn’t look up. “Good at what?”

“Doing what you’re told.”

He could’ve argued, told you you’re wrong, but his mother raised him to be an honest man. You said things – ridiculous, flirty, completely inappropriate things – and he listened. You smiled at him, and suddenly, everything seemed negotiable. Boundaries, logic, professionalism, the whole lot of it.

Because it was you.

Because you could ask him to kneel in a room full of fire and he'd probably say yes, ma'am on the way down.

“I’m banning you from sending me photos while I’m at work,” he muttered, fingers dragging the fabric slowly up your calf.

“Oh yeah?”

His grip tightened a fraction. Not enough to hurt, but just enough to make a point. “You think I’m kidding?”

“I think,” you said, drawing the word out like it was your favourite accessory, right alongside lip-gloss and claw clips. “I should’ve sent you the one I took of me from behind.”

He froze. Just for a second. Then his hands moved again, dragging the tights up your thigh, and even he was a little surprised he hadn't torn them yet. You were smiling again, clearly enjoying your second-nature ability to make him weak in his fragile knees.

He shouldn't be taking you to lunch.

He wanted to – wanted to open the door for you, order your favourite, sit across the table while you made snide, flirty remarks and shamelessly stole the croutons off his salad like they were yours by right.

But the other part of him, the one you were clearly trying to provoke, had no interest in lunch at all. That side wanted to take you home and teach you a filthy, thorough lesson that had nothing to do with menus or linen napkins...and everything to do with that damn attitude that skirt had given you.

But you were at work. He was due back at work soon. And he figured there was no better way to get back at you – to beat you at your own game – than to make you wait. Make you squirm. Make you regret every single syllable that had left your pretty mouth since he walked in and caught you bent over, ass on display like it wasn't completely deliberate. Like he hadn't seen the phone in your hand. Like he hadn't noticed Bella reach for hers just before he walked in.

Because if you thought you were good at teasing, you had no idea what it looked like when he decided to play.

So, instead of acting on the thousand things running through his head, he let his touch soften, fingers smoothing out the tights and moving on to the other leg like his thoughts weren't indecent and laser-focused on exactly what he planned to do the second he had you alone.

He stepped back once he was finished. "I'll be at the front when you're ready.”

You blinked, lips parted like you were waiting for him to do anything but walk away.

And that was the best part. He didn't even look back as he adjusted his tie and headed for the door, fully aware of the way your eyes followed him.

Now?

You were the one with your composure slipping. 

And when he decided you'd waited long enough... he was going to make sure you remembered every second of it.

tags - @fandomscombine @dohmeti @pastelpinkflowerlife @hazzyking @bernelflo @risenqueen1521 @jazzimac1967 @camihotchner @abschaffer2 @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @pacmillo-blog-blog @stilestotherescue @kiwriteswords

nanny!reader with a choking kink coming up next to an alina-blog near you!🌟

[possessedmen]

Legal Affairs

The clock in the corner of Atticus's office ticked rhythmically, a sound that had long since faded into the background of his life. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the mahogany desk where he sat, papers strewn about in an attempt to distract him from the thoughts that had been plaguing him for weeks - thoughts of William.

There was a knock at the door, soft but insistent.

"Come in," Atticus called out, his voice betraying none of the turmoil he felt.

William stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a click that seemed to echo in the quiet room. He was dressed in a sharp suit that did little to hide his youthful vigor. His eyes, however, held a mischievous glint that Atticus had come to both dread and anticipate.

"Working late, Atticus?" William asked, his voice a velvet whisper as he approached the desk, papers in hand.

"Seems like I'm not the only one," Atticus replied, his eyes following William's movements. He couldn't help but admire how the younger man's suit fit him, tailored to accentuate every curve of his body.

William leaned over the desk, placing documents down, but not before his eyes met Atticus's with an intensity that made the older man's breath hitch. "I found something incredible at this antique store," William began, his voice lowering to an almost conspiratorial tone.

Atticus raised an eyebrow, "Oh? And what might that be?"

"A book," William said, pulling an old, leather-bound volume from his bag. "It talks about ancient rituals, including one for body swapping. Imagine, Atticus, getting a taste of youth again with my body."

Atticus's interest was piqued, but he kept his tone skeptical. "Body swapping? You can't be serious."

"I am," William insisted, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Have you ever thought about what it would feel like to... make out with your own body? To see yourself through someone else's eyes?"

The suggestion sent an unexpected thrill through Atticus. He tried to dismiss it, but the idea was too tantalizing to ignore. "And how exactly does this work?"

William moved around the desk, standing closer, now behind Atticus, his breath warm against Atticus's neck as they started kissing, William's hand roaming over Atticus' chest. "I want to experience what it's like to be the boss." He then whispered, "We need something personal from each other. Something intimate."

Atticus nodded, reaching into his desk drawer to pull out a tie he often wore. William, in turn, unbuttoned his shirt slightly, revealing a silver necklace. "This should do."

They moved to the center of the office, where William had already set up candles. He opened the book, its pages yellowed with age, and began reading from it, his voice a low chant. The air seemed to thicken around them, charged with an energy Atticus could feel against his skin.

As William finished the incantation, a sudden dizziness overtook them both. When Atticus opened his eyes, the world looked different — taller, somehow, and the mirror across the room reflected not his own seasoned face but William's youthful one.

"Atticus?" William's voice came from Atticus's own body, sounding bewildered yet thrilled.

"This is... incredible," Atticus said, touching his new, younger face, feeling the smooth skin under his fingertips.

William moved closer, his eyes wide with wonder as he touched Atticus's face, now his own. "We did it."

The exploration began, each touch a discovery.

"Now, you're the young associate," Atticus said, his voice now William's, vibrant and eager. He pushed William, now in his own mature body, against the desk, roleplaying the power dynamic. "Show me how you'd impress your senior partner."

William, in Atticus's body, played along, his hands fumbling with the unfamiliar buttons of the suit, his touch more deliberate, mimicking the authority he now embodied. "I'd start by showing you how much I've learned from you," he said, his voice deeper, commanding.

They explored each other slowly, Atticus marveling at how his own body felt under his hands, the hard muscles, the slight sag of age replaced by youthful tautness. William's hands, now Atticus's, traced over the firm chest, down to the stomach, feeling the texture of skin that was now so alien yet intimately known. Each touch sent shivers through Atticus, the unfamiliar sensation of his own body's skin under his fingertips, now William's, making his breath catch.

"You're always so composed," William teased, running his fingers through Atticus's hair, now his own, feeling the thrill of control. "But how composed are you now?"

Atticus, in William's body, found himself responding as if he were William, his movements more daring, his touch more exploratory. He kissed down the neck of his own body, tasting the salt of skin, feeling the pulse quicken under his lips. He whispered, "You've always wanted to be in charge, haven't you?"

William, playing the part of the senior partner, guided Atticus's hand to his own erection, showing him how he'd pleasure himself in these stolen moments. "Learn from the best," he growled, his eyes dark with desire. Atticus felt the warmth, the weight of it, a new sensation that made him ache with desire.

They moved to the floor, the carpet rough against their skin as they switched roles again. Atticus, still in William's body, sat atop William, now mimicking the senior partner's usual demeanor, riding him with an enthusiasm that was both William's and his own. Each thrust was a lesson in sensation, the feeling of tightness around him, the heat, the friction, all new and exhilarating.

"Look at you, so eager to please," William gasped, his hands gripping Atticus's hips, now his own, with a strength that surprised them both.

Just then, the phone on the desk rang, vibrating across the wood. Will, in Atticus's body, looked at Atticus with a wicked grin, quickly picking up the call on speakerphone.

"Atticus Montgomery here," William said, his impersonation so perfect that even Atticus raised his eyebrows in surprise. He watched as Will, in his body, leaned back, chewing on a pen — a habit Atticus had, which William mimicked flawlessly.

"Atticus, it's Henry. Need to run through the latest on the case," came the voice of Will's father and Atticus's long-time friend and partner.

"Sure, Henry, go ahead," William responded smoothly, his voice carrying the authoritative tone Atticus was known for.

As Henry talked, Atticus, still in William's body, decided to push the boundaries further. He moved between William's legs, now his own, and began to work his mouth over William's cock, who was now in Atticus's body. Will's eyes widened, but he managed to keep his composure on the call, his voice steady despite the pleasure.

"Uh, yes, Henry, I've noticed some discrepancies in the client's statement," William said, his breath hitching slightly as Atticus took him deeper, his tongue swirling around the head, eliciting a soft moan that he tried to cover with a cough.

"Everything okay there, Atticus?" Henry asked, concern in his voice.

"Absolutely, just a little throat irritation," William managed, his voice steady as Atticus continued, his head bobbing rhythmically. "I think we should consider involving William more in this case. He's shown remarkable insight."

"Wait, what? Will's too green for this case, Atticus," Henry argued, his tone sharp. "We can't risk it on his inexperience."

"He's not as green as you think, Henry," William countered, his voice firm, the roleplay adding an edge to his words as Atticus continued his ministrations, his lips and tongue working in tandem. "He's been instrumental in piecing together the evidence timeline. He caught something we all missed."

"And what's that?" Henry challenged, the skepticism clear.

"He found that the witness's timeline was off by an hour, which could change the entire narrative of the event," William explained, his voice steady despite the distraction. "That's not something a 'green' lawyer would see."

Henry paused, considering. "Alright, but I'm not convinced. We'll discuss this further. Now, about the deposition..."

As Henry detailed the deposition strategy, William listened, his voice sometimes faltering with the pleasure of Atticus's skilled mouth. "Uh, yes, I think William should be there to observe. He might catch something else."

"Fine, but he's to observe only," Henry conceded reluctantly. "I want to see if he can keep up."

"Absolutely," William said, his breath hitching as Atticus took him deeper, the sensation overwhelming. "I believe in his potential. We should nurture it."

Atticus, now in the spirit of mischief, moved to Will's feet, now his own, and began to massage them, his fingers pressing into the arches, a silent promise of more to come. William's breath caught, the sensation new but intensely pleasurable.

"And Henry," William continued, his voice thick with suppressed desire, "I've been thinking... maybe William could take on some of the witness interviews. He has a good rapport with people."

Henry's voice was doubtful. "That's a lot of responsibility, Atticus. Are you sure?"

"I'm positive," ambitious William said, his voice cracking slightly as Atticus's fingers found a sensitive spot, sending a shiver up his spine. "He's ready for this step up."

"Well, if you're sure... But we'll review his performance after the first one."

"Agreed," William managed, his voice a mixture of authority and arousal as Atticus's hands continued their work, now kissing the soles of Will's feet, the act both worshipful and erotic.

Once the call ended, Atticus, still in William's body, pointed out, "You played me too well."

With a playful smirk that held a kernel of truth, he replied, "I could get used to being you."

Atticus chuckled, his hands still on William's feet, now his own, caressing them with a reverence that was both playful and sincere. "You even got the pen chewing right. But how did you know so much about the case?"

"I might have been paying more attention than you think," William said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Or maybe I'm just that good at pretending to be you."

Atticus, with a laugh, leaned forward, his breath hot against William's toes as he spoke. "You're too good, Will. It's almost frightening."

William, still in character, retorted, "Frightening? No, Atticus, I think you mean 'impressive'." He wiggled his toes under Atticus's touch, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through him. "Besides, you seemed to enjoy me 'being you' quite a bit."

Atticus's cheeks flushed, the truth undeniable. "I can't argue with that," he admitted, his voice low, his hands moving up William's legs, now his own, feeling the familiar yet new contours. "But don't get too comfortable in my shoes... or my body."

William grinned, the playful banter continuing, "Oh, I think I might just enjoy this little twist of fate a bit longer. Who knows, I might even learn to tie a tie like you do."

They laughed, the sound mingling with the soft glow of the candles, their bodies still intertwined in the complexity of their swapped selves.

"Henry seemed scarily impressed," Atticus noted, his tone a mix of admiration and humor. "But are you sure you didn't put too much work on yourself? Witness interviews, depositions?"

William shrugged with a playful grin. "Maybe I did, but I think you'd like the idea of someone else doing your work for a change."

Atticus couldn't help but smile. "You got me there. I must admit, the thought of you handling some of my responsibilities while I get to sit back and keep an eye on you... it's quite appealing."

"Now where were we?" Atticus kissed William as they continued the exploration of their bodies, the boundaries of their roles blurring in Atticus' office.

[wendyyyyyyyy]

"Connected"

Pairing : Bang Chan x 9th member maknae reader

Synopsis : Unspoken tension between you two broke loose when you accidentally flirted with an actor under his eyes. (Inspired by his song "Connected")

Warning : suggestive words, kissing. Other than that, it's safe.

Enjoy!

----------------

The after-party was buzzing with energy, the air thick with glamour and expensive cologne. You had spent the night mingling with models, actors, and other idols, trying to push down the fluttering in your chest every time your gaze accidentally met Chan’s across the room. He looked good tonight—no, he looked dangerous, dressed in a tailored black suit that hugged him perfectly, the gold chain on his neck catching the dim light.

But you couldn’t focus on him. You shouldn’t focus on him. That unspoken rule hung between you like a fragile glass wall neither of you dared to shatter.

Still, you knew he was watching you. You could feel his eyes burning holes into you from across the room as you chatted with an actor, his deep laughter making you laugh too. It wasn’t intentional, but maybe—just maybe—you lingered a little too long, your hand brushing his arm as you spoke.

And that was all it took.

Chan clenched his jaw, fingers tightening around his glass as he watched the scene unfold. You could see it from the corner of your eye, the way his smile didn’t reach his eyes when someone tried to engage him in conversation. He was holding himself back, trying to act composed, but you knew him too well.

He was jealous.

Still, he said nothing. Did nothing.

At least, not then.

It was past midnight when the knock came.

You had just stepped out of the shower, hair damp and skin warm as you slipped into an oversized T-shirt. The hotel room was quiet, the kind of stillness that made the knock on your door sound even louder. You frowned, glancing at the clock. Who could it be at this hour?

Pulling the door open, you froze when you saw him.

Chan stood there, his tie loosened, the top buttons of his shirt undone, exposing the smooth planes of his collarbones. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide, and his chest heaved like he’d been running.

“Chan? What—”

Before you could finish, he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him with more force than necessary.

“What are you—”

But the words died in your throat when he grabbed your wrist, dragging you toward the small table in the corner of the room. His hands were firm but not rough, his movements deliberate as he lifted you effortlessly onto the table. Your breath hitched, your legs dangling off the edge, but he stepped between them, his body so close you could feel the heat radiating off him.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” he asked, his voice low, strained, like he was holding back everything he’d been wanting to say for months. His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as his eyes locked onto yours.

“What are you talking about?” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“Don’t play dumb,” he snapped, but there was no malice in his tone—just frustration. “Seeing you with him tonight… laughing, touching him like that—God, it drove me insane.”

You blinked, your heart racing. “It was nothing, Chan. We were just talking.”

His laugh was bitter, his jaw clenching as he leaned closer, his face just inches from yours. “Nothing? That’s what you call it?” His hands slid up to your waist, his thumbs brushing against the fabric of your shirt. “You don’t get it, do you? You don’t get what you do to me.”

Your breath caught as his words sank in. “Chan…”

“I hate this,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “I hate that I can’t tell you how I feel, that I can’t—” He stopped, exhaling sharply as his fingers tightened on your waist. “I hate that I have to watch you with other guys when all I want is to have you for myself.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed, unable to process the flood of emotions pouring out of him. He was always so composed, so in control, but now he was unraveling in front of you.

“I know we’re not supposed to,” he continued, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “I know this could ruin everything. But I can’t—I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this.”

You didn’t have time to respond before his lips crashed against yours, desperate and demanding. Your eyes widened in shock, but the heat of his mouth, the way he kissed you like he was starving, made it impossible to pull away.

And then, just like that, you gave in.

Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as you kissed him back with just as much passion. It was messy, frantic, like months of pent-up desire were spilling over all at once.

He groaned into your mouth, his hands roaming your back as he deepened the kiss. “You feel it too,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and gravelly. “Don’t you?”

“Yes,” you admitted breathlessly, your hands gripping his shoulders. “I do. I always have.”

That was all it took.

The rest of the night was a blur of tangled sheets, whispered confessions, and stolen touches. For one night, the rules didn’t matter. For one night, you were his, and he was yours.

And even if it was selfish, it was everything you both had ever wanted.

[unsoundedcomic]

you talk a lot about characters that cannot be redeemed, usually because they've become some sort of trauma katamari through which no good decisions could emerge. does this extend to your view of humans irl? always been fascinated with the concept of the unsavable, but people always strike me as tensed up knots, highly resistant to being unmade, but still perfectly good rope if you know where to pull. how do you conceive of the gordian soul?

Well, the idea of redemption is a fictional one, really, and doesn't have a lot of place outside of stories and away from characters. I'm not entirely sure how a real person goes about being redeemed. That might be a religious concept that's never compelled me.

In my experience, awful people tend to remain awful. I have known a wide variety of them in my time: rapists, child abusers, spousal abusers, thieves, arsonists, narcissists. Some of them have gone to prison and never come out again; others were never caught, lived to be rich and happy old men slipping into idiot senescence without ever uttering one word of apology - and probably never feeling one moment of remorse.

Now, could someone have made a project of these people and tried to reform them? I don't know, maybe. What would their reformation look like, though? More importantly to me, what would it accomplish?

Because I've not only known a wide variety of awful people, but I've watched a lot of them die, too. They often leave the world better when they're gone. I'm just not sure they were still perfectly good rope, like you suggest; more like just enough rope to tie a lot of unfortunate people to them. A lot of crap gets stuck in those knots.

Now I'm largely a misanthropist, but that's tempered by also believing we're all products of our environment and upbringing. I'm at an age now where I've watched quite a few people grow from babies to adults, and it's been a little dismal to see how little say anyone has in who they become - and we know we have no say at all in who raises us. It's really hard to get worked up over even the worst people when one takes a wider view and recognises how small they are - socially, historically, conceptually. Instead I guess I'm more interested in systems. People live, people die, but it's the systems they're born into that form them and outlast them. We'll always have terrible people, but it's the systems that give them any meaningful power or influence.

Can we redeem systems? I think that question and that pursuit make more sense than redeeming individuals. Biology will always take care of the "unsaveable"; but better systems ensure fewer bastards rise up to replace them.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 1: first kiss

Masterlist flufftober 🎀

Reblog if you liked it!

You were walking along the inside of the sidewalk, enjoying the story that your friend was telling you animatedly, while both of you headed to your apartment.

You had been dating a few weeks with Dr. Spencer Reid, whom you had met at your book club. He was the only man attending and although the old women were completely sweet with him, they were no competition for you, who had liked you from the first glance. He had invited you on a date with the excuse of talking a little more about the last book you had read and when you were alone with him you ended up seeing how charming he was. That allowed you to ask for a new date and so you continued to see each other frequently, when Spencer's work allowed it.

He was a gentleman with you and although it was obvious that you liked each other, he had been too cautious to make any move beyond taking you to nice places and buying you flowers.

“If I'm overwhelming you, you can tell me,” he laughed, a little embarrassed that he had been talking for most of the way.

“I really like hearing you talk. You always have something good to say.”

You were very close to your apartment and both of you slowed down considerably, as if you weren't ready to separate yet. You had been walking with your hands in the pockets of your coat to keep yourself protected from the autumn cold that was already beginning to set in, wishing that it was his hands that kept yours warm.

“Sometimes I feel like I'm still not used to it”

"To what?"

“To be with someone as kind as you,” he confessed to you, smiling slightly “You are literally the nicest person I know.”

“That's not true, I have a lot of bad things,” you tried to excuse yourself, even though it was totally true, hoping that he wouldn't start idealizing you as something you weren't.

“We all have them, that's true. But it is also true that you are gentle and good” he added. Spencer was so mature and so gorgeous that you doubted there was a man like him on earth and even with the short time you had been dating you believed he was good boyfriend material. Excellent boyfriend material, to tell the truth.

“You're going to the club this month, right?”

“I'll try,” he replied, when both of you were in front of your building. “You know, work…”

“This month I have to bring the snacks. And I was thinking about preparing something you like, if you want” you murmured shyly.

Your cooking skills were something you prided yourself on and you wanted to show him that you too were talented, just like he was with almost everything. Spencer smiled at the idea and gave you a list of suggestions, which you excitedly wrote down in your mind.

You didn't want to enter your house, but your excuses to keep him longer had run out and you even felt a little selfish for wanting even more from him after spending almost the entire afternoon together. But it was inevitable to want his company.

“We'll see you soon, okay?” he promised you, bending down a little to wrap you in a goodbye hug “I will try my best to be free on the day of the meeting.”

“No pressure, I'll save you some snacks and we can eat them at my apartment later,” you suggested, venturing to plan a date at a more intimate place that you two hadn't climbed to yet.

Spencer smiled from her spot and you knew that this was the final goodbye, although neither of you were very happy.

“Good night, Y/N.”

You responded in the same way and then you saw him start walking down the sidewalk, but this time you didn't go straight in like you did before. You weren't going to waste your chance, nor the pang of bravery that seemed to have hit you.

“Spencer! I think you're forgetting something," you exclaimed, loud enough to stop him and make him retrace his steps to look at you with a confused expression.

"What is it?"

“This” quickly and without leaving room for complaints, you pulled him by his tie until he was close to you and planted a chaste kiss on his lips, which were slightly stained with lipstick that matched the man's cheeks “You can go, rest”

“Huh… you too”

It was obvious that you had taken him by surprise, but it had been worth it just to see him in that state, trying to hide the emotion that the caress had given him and keeping his gaze on your mouth probably debating whether he should kiss you again or not.

This time you did walk in the direction of the entrance, but he was the one who didn't move, still processing what had just happened. You waved your hand from the door to say goodbye and he waved back, smiling tenderly at you. You'd like to say you didn't spy on him as you walked up the stairs, but that would be a lie, and so would saying you didn't see his excited little dance when he thought he was out of sight.

Although very brief, it was the best first kiss you had ever had in your life.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove

[buzzyb33]

Being in a relationship w memeulous would be a good idea for headcannons love you byeee

Prompt: in request-!

Warnings: some suggestive content, swearing, mentions of height

Obviously- he couldn’t tell the public that you and him were dating, you were a mutual of James Marriott due to you and Jago (James’ drummer) were close growing up both playing drums.

You two met through said which was fun, you two were close before you moved back to London causing you to get even closer, little coffee dates.

“George would you rather be your ideal intellect or be your ideal heig- i start as I sip my coffee.

“Height- look at me Y/n!” He whisper shouts with a grin.

I laugh.

He asked her out around 2 months later and did it with a nice bouquet of blue lilies.

He knocked on her door and she opened it as she rubbed her eyes, she was fully dressed just no makeup and her hair wasn’t done, showing her light freckles may be ironic- but beyond all the odds, she’d never looked prettier.

I smile as I see him.

“Hi george- we didn’t have anything planned today did we?” I say as I Lena on my doorframe.

“Uh, no- but.. I have something to ask.”

My smile wavers at his nervousness.

“Will you go- on a proper real date with Me? You know..” he said and sheepishly brought the lilies from behind his back.

Her cheeks flushes and she grinned.

“You remembered by favourite flower? Oh george! Of course!” I giggled and take the flowers out of his hands gently.

He smiled and I tell him to come him and put the flowers in a vase.

“You-“ he exhaled.and smiled.

“Yeah cool.” He tried to keep his calm but could hardly contain his smile.

Their dates were great, clearly they were meant and happy for each other.

At the start of the relationship the two were still a bit shy with each other, holding hands in public was their only form of PDA.

Though, further on into the relationship George asked you to move in with him, you could trial it for a bit.

After passing the honeymoon and awkward phases of your relationship you two were romantic best friends.

You found out pretty quickly George’s love language was gift giving, while you’re was quality time.

When you two were out before you were holding hands, something you just started doing in public, and his face was red.

“George you okay?” I ask quietly.

He nods and pulls his hand out of mine before wiping it on his chest then putting it back in mine.

Another time, me and George were making out in the comfort of our apartment and I exhale as his mouth goes to my neck.

“George- I have my train to get to-! I have to go meet James..” he mumbled something as he nibbled my neck, me holding back a whine.

“Alright- okay..” he murmurs as his eyes flick between my eyes and neck.

“Have fun.” He smiles and kisses my temple.

I don’t think much about his actions as I’m on my trainer to Brighton; my mind drifts into the fact I haven’t really told James how me and George are dating- same for him, even though he introduced us.

As I get to his apartment- he starts his stream and he starts talking about how his chat should of drew me.

I move my hair out my face and look at James as he talks.

“Neck- chat what are you on about? Neck-“

He looks at me then his jaw drops.

Y/n! You have a hickey!” He jabs my cheek and my face turns a shade of crimson.

He muted his stream and laughs at me.

“Who gave you that? Do I know them?”

I put my face in my hands and sit on his floor.

He unmutes his stream and says I’ll be with them in a minute.

As he ended the stream he laughed again and leaned against the door frame.

“Well, thank you for coming.” He clicked his tongue.

“Who gave you the hickey?” I push his chest and scoff.

“Thank you for having me- I need to go do… things.” He rolls his eyes as I tie my laces.

“Was it George?”

George definitely did that on purpose.

“Can we get matching pyjamas?” I ask as I go into his office as he edits a main channel video.

He doesn’t hear me and I notice he still has his mask and glasses on, I sigh and pull his hat off his head, massaging his scalp lightly.

He turns to face me and smiles.

“Fix your posture, love you do this all the time..” I say softly and he leans back in his chair and looks at me.

I smile and pull his glasses off then his mask.

He exhales and relaxes in my touch as I massage his scalp, his eyes closing gently.

“Mmmh- thank you, n/n.. I- I do love you..” he muttered as I smiled.

We didn’t say that much.

“What did you say- earlier?” He questions as I sense his drowsiness.

“We should get matching pyjamas, I think that- would be cute for us..”

He smokes and nods, already almost half asleep.

“George get into bed..”

He groans and opens his eyes, he saves whatever editing he’s done and drags himself out of his office into his room. (He had a three bedroom apartment and when I stayed I shared with him)

“I’ll get a drink then be back.” I say as I go to get a bottle of water, as I come back he’s already fast asleep.

I smile and climb into bed with him, his arms instinctively going around my waist.

And finally, George definitely calls you short arse to make himself feel better at his 5’8 stature.

A/n:

Can you tell I struggle with boyfriend headcannons? Anyway thanks for the request!! I have a josh fic out soon maybe earlier than next week and TWO tobi ones so!

Requests are open!

(Masterlist)

[lilderitter]

Hi Lil! Since you mentioned you worked on Tyril’s route - do you have any extra info to share about the year he spent searching for MC? Or just about their relationship in general? 👀

Hello! Just a reminder that this answer isn't the offiicial word, it's just the understanding I was personally working with while writing material for Blades 2 & 3. Anyhoo let's go! I'm actually going to hijack this very intriguing ask for a second to clarify something that I think didn't fully end up being clear in Blades 2. All of the core four (our original four party members) did spend the majority of the year looking for MC. They just didn't agree on how to do it and they didn't agree on predicted outcomes. Personally, I always went with the idea that the whole group tomb raided together (hence Imtura and Mal's tarred and feathered tomb trap story at the bathhouse) until Imtura started to lose hope and pointed out that Mal seemed suicidal so putting him next to death traps may not be the best idea. When Mal denied it and no one agreed with her, Imtura and Nia said some very unkind things to each other (as detailed in their dual premium toward the end of Book 3) and Imtura left the group and turned to alcoholism. Nia, Tyril, and Kade (and the nesper(s) depending on how many you have) did notice that something was off with Mal but didn't exactly know how to talk about it because of how Mal had reacted in the first place, so they decided to kind of subtly "suggest" a project to Mal that would help tie him to the world other than the search. Nia tried to model this notion of doing what MC would want them to do by taking a larger role in the church, so Mal began to multitask as well. Mal and Nia were still supporting Tyril's searching/tomb raiding (and sometimes adventured together), it's just that it was a matter of keeping Mal tethered at the same time, because keeping the group together was a big part of making sure MC had something to come back to, and since none of the core four had significant leadership experience aside from the now absent Imtura, they were having to figure out a lot as they went along, all while internally feeling guilty about taking "MC's role" and doing it badly beside.

Sorry that went a bit long, but I think it's important context.

Tyril's "lost" year was kind of a bizarro version of his search for vengeance for Kaya. The poem I shared was about his struggle to describe MC because he really does get overwhelmed thinking about them, especially as time goes on. (In my mind, Tyril is always in love with MC, regardless of whether he's being romanced or not. He's just really respectful of your friendship so he follows your lead on whether to act on it.) Anyway, when he mentioned the problem to Kade, Kade said it sounded like a a problem a poet would have. Tyril always liked reading poetry (it's somethin he shared with his Kilma), so he nervously decided to try it. But we all know Tyril is a perfectionist and really struggles with nuance so he felt that everything he was working on was terrible and not worthy of MC. It also doesn't really help that Kade was so excited to "talk shop" with another writer that he kind of gave Tyril workshop style feedback when he wasn't ready to hear it. (As brilliant and articulate as Kade is, in many ways because of his childhood illness he's a bit of a "homeschool kid." It always warms my heart to see him be so popular at the bars in Whitetower because he kind of had a fresh start with them.)

I think it's also at this time that Tyril really realizes how similar he and Sarenya are, and he kind of has to work through his feelings about whether his father was cruel to have seemingly never addressed the difference in their desires for physical intimacy. (For what it's worth, I think Sarenya never would have brought this up to Valir. There's too much shame surrounding it. There's a lot of not-talking in Elven culture despite them being so verbose. Hopefully she continues to work through that because the revolution is a nice start on undoing that social programming.)

The last thing I'll say since this is getting long is that in D&D parlance, I've always thought of Tyril as a paladin. Before he meets MC, he's a paladin of vengeance/The Light, but he begins to see himself as a paladin of MC in the year they're gone (which is where we get all the "celestial, god(dess) " language in the route.) As you might imagine, this notion would be sacrilegious as hell in Elven society, so he gets very defensive of the Elves/Empire out of guilt as well as working through standard cultural hegemony. He already knows he's a "bad Elf" so he overcompensates. Meeting Ittar and Bakshi is so complicated for him, I think, because on one hand, he sees himself in them so strongly, but the idea that he could have that kind of falling out with MC absolutely terrifies him.

Also, Tyril and Nia are the only true "switches" in the sexual sense in the party I think. Imtura's a dom, Mal is a sub (lovedddd working on that ropeplay premium for him let me tell you), and Valax and Aerin are still kind of working it out since they're so inexperienced.

Hopefully that all makes sense and again this was just where I personally was writing from, not PB canon.

[crimsonmochi]

✧･ﾟ 　Prompt List　･ﾟ✧

Open to suggestions!

Smut list - 01 - "I'm gonna put that mouth of yours to good use." - 02 - "Keep your hands away or I'll fucking tie them behind your back." - 03 - "So good for me... look how much you came." - 04 - "Please, cum inside me, I wanna be filled." - 04 ½ - "Let me come in you, please. I wanna fill you up." - 05 - "You wanted this. You can take it." - 06 - "Keep your eyes on me." - 07 - "Swallow." - 08 - "Open your mouth for me." - 09 - "Look at the mess you're making." - 10 - "Suck on it. Come on." - 11 - "Such a good little pup, aren't you?" - 12 - "You'll get to cum when I decide it." - 13 - "Let me mark you. Show everyone who you belong to." - 14 - "I-It's too much-" "You're doing so good for me." - 15 - "Look at yourself, all fucked out. Pathetic." - 16 - "Look at what you do to me." - 17 - "I'll take you just like I deserve." - 17 ½ - "Please take me. Take all of me." - 18 - "No one could make you feel as good as I do." - 19 - "You talk too much. We need to put that mouth to use for something better." - 20 - "Beg for it." - 21 - "What, your [partner]? No, they don't need to know about this. You can keep a secret, can't you?" - 22 - "I bet I don't even have to touch you to have you cum." - 23 - "Is that gonna fit?" "I'll make it fit." - 24 - "Use your words, sweetheart." - 25 - "Doesn't that feel so good, baby?" - 26 - "I'll make you forget all about him/her/them." - 27 - "This cock ain't going to suck itself." - 28 - "This is why I get off to you every night by myself." - 29 - "Looks like someone missed me." - 30 - "Hurry your ass up and sit on my fucking face." - 31 - 'Keep your eyes on me." - 32 - "Is this what you wanted, angel?" - 33 - "What's the matter? Can't form a sentence?" - 34 - "Use your words." - 35 - "Don't stop even if I beg you to." - 36 - "You have no idea how much I think of this." - 37 - "You've never looked prettier than with my cum on your face." - 38 - "Look at you... you think you're in control." - 39 - "So desperate for me. Sad." - 40 - "Get on your knees before I force you down myself."

Fluff list - 01 - "I'm not leaving you. Ever." - 02 - "We're not just dating, we're married." - 03 - "Just breathe with me, okay?" "Okay." - 04 - "Can I kiss you?" - 05 - "Five more minutes please, I don't wanna leave you." - 06 - "I realized why I couldn't stand you; I can't stop loving you and it's making me crazy." - 07 - "Get some rest, you work too hard." - 08 - "You deserve the world." - 09 - "Your hair is soft." - 10 - "You're safe here with me." - 11 - "It's you. It's always going to be you." - 12 - "You're not like them. You're better, you always have been and you always will be." - 13 - "Marry me." - 14 - "How about we face it together?" - 15 - "Whatever happens; I'll be here." - 16 - "Why?" "Because I love you." - 17 - "I just don't want you getting hurt." - 18 - "I have something to do!" "Blow them off and stay here with me all day." - 19 - "Oh, so you're jealous?" "I'm not jealous!" - 20 - "Oh, so you're jealous?" "Yeah, obviously." - 21 - "Dance with me?" - 22 - "You're my home." - 23 - "When I'm with you, everything else goes away." - 24 - "You made me not afraid of love." - 25 - "Thank you." "For what?" "Just thank you." - 26 - "I just need to know that you're safe." - 27 - "I can't stay away from you, I tried but I can't." - 28 - "Wanna get drunk together?" - 29 - "Is this a date?" - 30 - "Are those my clothes?" - 31 - "You're the reason I keep going." - 32 - "They don't deserve you." - 33 - "You're worth the wait." - 34 - "It's us against the world." - 35 - "Eyes up here, idiot." - 36 - "I'm yours. I'll always be yours." - 37 - "Time will take care of it." - 38 - "Are you hurt?!" - 39 - "We'll fix things. We always do." - 40 - "One more kiss."

Angst list - 01 - "I'm sorry. I'll never be good enough for you." - 02 - "You deserve to be taken care of in a way I could never." - 03 - "What changed?" "I don't feel the same way I did anymore." - 04 - "I don't feel the same way for you as you do for me." - 05 - "I cheated on you." - 06 - "I think this ― us ― was a mistake." - 07 - "It's just a one-time thing." - 08 - "Please don't go." - 09 - "I'm too scared to die, not yet, please." - 10 - "I love you, and that's why I'm letting you go." - 11 - "Oh my god.. You love somebody else." - 12 - "It probably doesn't mean anything to you, but I love you." - 13 - "I can be there when you need me!" "But I did, and you weren't." - 14 - "Leave." - 15 - "I can't forgive you." - 16 - "Don't make me choose." - 16 ½ - "I'll pick them every time. And I can't have you hate me for it." - 17 - "I don't have a choice." - 18 - "Why does this sound like goodbye?" "Because it is." - 19 - "You said forever." - 20 - "How long have you been lying to me?" - 21 - "Did you ever love me?" - 22 - "Do you feel loved by me?" - 23 - "Why do you keep me a secret? Why are we hiding?" - 23 ½ - "Are you embarrassed of me?" - 24 - "One last time. Please." - 25 - "Are you afraid of me?" - 26 - "You know we can't keep doing this." "Doing what?" "Running away from the issue." - 27 - "Was I not enough for you?" - 28 - "You don't remember me?" - 29 - "You don't get to call me that anymore." - 30 - "It wasn't supposed to end like this." - 31 - "Is that all I mean to you?" - 32 - "So what you're saying is, I'm not worth it?" - 33 - "Will it ever stop hurting?" "No. You just gotta make room for it." - 34 - "It's better this way." - 35 - "I get it. You can leave. It's what they all do anyway." - 36 - "You're just like the others." - 37 - "You don't mean that." "I do." - 38 - "But why would you do it to me?" - 39 - "So this is the end?" - 40 - "After everything, this is all you can come up with?"

[misscinnamonroll16]

Brozone diner au: the day John Dory took off part one

this au does not belong to me, it belongs to @bzjohndory its gonna have to be multiple parts bc i write too much apparently

Business was slow, it was a hard winter and most trolls didn't leave their pods unless they had to. Bruce was the one to suggest it, knowing his brother hadn't had a day off in seven years. They all had special days that they got off like birthdays or anniversaries, except for John Dory. He didn't take days off, he worked open to close seven days a week. Bruce brought it up with others, knowing he wouldn't get anywhere without back up from their younger brothers. Bruce talked with Clay in between orders on the line. “I'm just saying, we haven't been that busy these past few weeks so I think he can just take a day off at least. We're all responsible enough to take care of the diner while he's gone.” Bruce said as he pulled some fries out of the fryer, portioning them on a plate and passing it to Clay. “Yeah but how do you plan on making him? We've tried making him before and he literally spent the entire day in the diner, working on other stuff ." Clay wondered as he finished plating a couple burgers, putting them in the window to be ran. At that moment, Floyd came into the back and leaned against the wall. “You good Flo?" Clay asked as he worked on the next order. Floyd nodded and held up a thumbs up but they noticed how his hand shook. Bruce threw some fries on a plate and slid a milk crate over to Floyd. “Sit down and have a snack. And while you're back here I wanna talk to you about something." Bruce said, handing the plate of fries to Floyd as he sat on the milk crate. Floyd nodded and started eating the fries while still leaning with his back against the wall. After a few moments of no orders coming in, Bruce crouched down next to Floyd. “Feel better?" Bruce asked while rubbing his back. “Yeah, I skipped breakfast this morning so I started to get the shakes." Floyd chuckled, placing the empty plate on the floor. Clay grabbed some dirty dishes they had on the line and grabbed the plate for the floor, taking them to the dish room. “So before you go back up there, I wanna talk to you about this thought I had. Clay thinks I won't be able to do it. I won't be able to do it by myself, I'll need all of your guys' help." Bruce said nonchalantly, watching for JD to be walking around. “What's up? I'm sure I can help somehow." Floyd said as he pulled his money out of the pocket on his apron. “I wanna get JD to take a day off. He hasn't taken a day off since he got ownership of the diner. If he had his way, we'd still be open on Christmas, and he would totally run this entire place by himself if he had to. He deserves it, he's kept this place afloat, put each of us through college and is here every goddamn day. This isn't gonna be like the last time, he's not gonna be allowed back in here until the next day.” Bruce said, looking Floyd in the eyes telling that he is completely serious about this. Clay came back in with clean dishes and began setting them up on the line. “I think he's crazy if he thinks he's going to get John to do it. He practically lives here, I don't think I've actually seen his place.” Clay said, placing plates in their proper spots. "Yeah but if we work together, I'm sure John will listen to us. You guys don't see him on the floor as much as I do. He's constantly moving, like if he stops, he'll pass out. Sometimes he shakes too. And Bruce is right, he's more than earned a day off, heck a week, we'll be lucky if we get one day.” Floyd said as he sorted his money, putting it back into his book. "I'm not saying he doesn't deserve it or need it. I'm saying that we might have to actually tie him down to get him out of here. He's not going to like the idea.” Clay said, cleaning up their prep area.  "What are you guys talking about?” Branch said through the server window. Bruce stood up and motioned for Branch to come back there. Branch walked back onto the grill line, confused.

[changingplumbob]

Shay McClain - Hopeful Bachelorette

Entry for Mad About Dodo by @akitasimblr

Tell us a bit about yourself. What do you do to keep busy? How would your friends describe you?

Okay, well, hi, I'm Shay. I never really fit in at school so after graduation while all my classmates headed to university I wanted something different. I've always liked making stuff so I was looking at getting into carpentry and then one of my dads had the best idea. They both know I love adventure and exploring so they suggested I travel and volunteer with organizations like Habitat for Humanity. I do a bit of carpentry when I'm home to keep the funds up. But yeah I travel the world getting to see cool places, surfing and mountain climbing, and putting my hands to good use making homes for people. Most of my friends are people I've met through that and they'd probably say I'm confident, my dads would probably say over confident, have a passion for making things, especially out of junk but in my defense people throw a lot away too quickly, and... just... a lust for life. But have you looked around? There's beauty in everything.

And why have you applied for Mad About Dodo?

My dad's are worried I'll die alone so have been trying to sort out a way for me to meet people, of course they can't exactly organize a blind date for me when we're in different continents. Don't get me wrong, I would like love in my life, it's kind of the piece that's missing you know. Anyway they sent me the entry details and I have to admit, Dodo is cute. Not that I would just apply because of an attractive person but I was reading about how he's tried other challenges before and I admire his perseverance to keep trying. That's what we have to do at the job sites. So if he's looking for someone to sweep him off his feet I'll do my best.

What do you think of your outfits?

I'm happy they're not just draping us in leaves and calling it a day. I think we've managed to pull together some stuff that'll fit in on an island. But why did we do a cold weather outfit? Aren't islands warm?

How do you see yourself getting on with other competitors?

I've honestly no idea. But I can tell you right now they better keep their pranks away from me. Seriously, a joke that's made at the expense of someone else isn't a joke. Learn how to be funny without punching down.

If you're the kind of person that can spot the good things in life I think we'll get on. I do hate small talk though, let's get to the good juicy stuff! Life's too short to be commenting on the weather constantly.

Tell us about some of your likes and dislikes

Well like I said I really like making stuff. I enjoy fabricating but my favourite is when I can carve stuff like sculptures or furniture. I'm also big into fitness, I like to keep myself in shape. I like yoga to even if I can't balance right half the time.

Dislikes... juice fizzing. I'm not going to go into detail but I had a bad experience. Mischief obviously, I'll crack jokes anytime you like but don't expect me to tie you to a voodoo doll. Programming is also something I just find boring as well as research, so it really is best that I didn't go to university.

What are you looking forward to?

Getting to know Dodo. Hopefully he can be more than a friend. I'm also looking forward to testing out my survival skills. I think they're pretty good with the work I've done but you never know until you're in the situation I guess. But yeah, mainly getting to see if this guy is the one for me, if I can be the one for him.

What are you dreading?

Sunburn! And walking around not realizing I've been pooped on by a bird.

I know most people would probably say lack of bedding and plumbing but I've gone without them before, I can handle going without them again.

Do you have a message for Dodo?

Hey Dodo, if you want someone who can work wonders with their hands I'm here *laughs* No, I'm kidding, please don't tell him I said that. Umm... Hi Dodo, I'm looking forward to building this next part of my life with you in it. See you on the island!

Download SFS

[little-forest-goblin]

Hey guys so a did a recent post about the diner deli scene and the different variations of five there and i had listed all of the ones i can put a name on (its all a personal opinion my word is not law) and we all know that they have some odd subtle differences between each other though they still may be five they are still from other universes and timelines and not one five is gonna be the same completely. So i decided to list and give them the personalties and such that i can (Again my word is now law please by all means make whatever you want this is just personal opinion and thought)

So here is the list of the fives that i had personally named.

1. Booth five

2. waiter five

3. brisket five

4. Newspaper/good with numbers five

5. Mathematician/journaling/theorist five (There is three cause if i remember correctly there is two fives and i just know one of them is obsessing over numbers and i was wondering what the other one is doing and thats what i got)

6. Anxious antsy/waiting five

7. Drunk five

8. Loose neck tie five

9. chef five

Those are the ones i could put a name too. Some of them i have no clue what to call them but if you have a suggestion or an idea please let me know.

1. Booth five

Booth five is probably a funny laid back guy who is just wanting to chill after having tried and failed so many times to save the world and his family only to have it blow up in his face time and time again. He is mostly unintentionally funny it seems. He wont get why what he said is funny at first but once he does he will probably laugh it off with you or give a playful eyeroll.

2. waiter five

Waiter five looks like he would be that person in the friend group who is always mothering the group. Attentive and caring can be serious when need be but for the most part also pretty laid back and not really a stick in the mud.

3. Brisket five

You cant tell me he wouldn’t be a sweetheart. He looks like he would be making small talk and smiling and cracking a couple jokes here and there and just overall you would be comfortable around him. He is probably one of the fives that the others go to vent or just need something to take their mind off of whatever they got going on. There’s that and let’s not forget he apparently wrecks shit sometimes as confirmed by booth five.

4. Newspaper/good with numbers five

Newspaper five has always newspaper always in hand whether it be old news or new news he has one nearby or in hand. This is also helping him with his good with numbers part. He is just uncannily good with numbers obviously having been shown in the scene where he tells the amount of times they tried to save the world. He is basically that scene from criminal minds where Spencer Reid gets the guess right for how many boats are on lake mead. He knows random info and facts and when engaged in conversation he is a fact and info dumper.

5. mathematician/journalist/theorist five

-mathematician five is somewhere writing in his notebook with equations and numbers all probably trying to find a possibility for any possible safe timeline that isn’t gonna go to shit. He could also just really like numbers.

-Journalist/diary five is always writing in his notebook about his days there at the deli/diner. he can recap anything that has happened from the start of when he arrived there and more then likely has a log of all the fives that have arrived and whether they have stayed or went off to try and save the world and the family again.

- theorist five i believe is a variation of five that had driven himself crazy with possibilities and theories whether it be about the apocalypse and saving his family or it might be over something small and insignificant. sometimes this can spiral and cause outbursts of panic and rage or straight up mental breakdowns. His notebook is filled with possibility after possibility. Theory after theory. Some of the pages are random scribbles and writings and if you sit close to him you can hear him muttering to himself about the writings. His hair is also probably a little greasier than others considering his obsessive behavior with writing theories but he isn’t unclean.

6. anxious ansty/waiting five

Anxious ansty five seems to be on edge a lot. All the trauma he has gone through has finally bled through and has made him anxious or antsy. He can be seen with his hands always fidgeting or chewing on a random object like a pen or the tip of his straw to try and silence the anxious thoughts even for just a minute. He may be seen waiting for his order at the counter but he isn’t always waiting for that he can be seen waiting anxiously for some kinda ball to drop and everything to go to shit. He is probably more than likely a paranoid person.

7. Drunk five

Drunk five is quite self explanatory. It’s a variation of five that is drunk but when you think about it. Why was he called drunk five in the first place? why wasnt he called something else kinda like how newspaper/good with numbers five is or theorist five is? its cause he is more then likely always drunk meaning this variation of five is probably the one filled and consumed by regret and grief and sadness and has given up completely. Not all variations of five are happy or composed and this is one of them. He has done so much, seen so much and has dealt with so much to where he drinks to forget and drinks to have a good time. When you approach him you can get a few different emotions whether it be a sad drunk one day or a cracking jokes and making drunk conversation. He is more then likely the one getting into some form of trouble (as seen with S3 where five makes boozy cereal or does random stupid things) he may not always be sad but deep down we know why he drinks.

8. Loose neck tie five

People may argue and say that this is drunk five but if memory serves me right drunk five was off doing something stupid and this one is just hanging out by the door. Now i don’t quite know what personality to give this one since its just a loose neck tie and doesn’t really correspond with personality other then maybe being tired or exhausted or being disheveled in the first place. He may be a five that is a little less organized and put together. I will leave this one up to y’all.

9. Chef five

Not be confused with brisket five cause yes brisket five i guess technically would be a chef considering he is making food but brisket five is called brisket five for a reason. Chef five is the other five behind the counter. If you look at the picture you can see a five eating a soup meaning there probably isn’t just sandwiches here in the diner/deli. Chef five can always be seen hard at work cooking and probably trying out new recipes or making new ones too.

There we have it folks my personal opinions on the five variations in this weird five verse. I hope yall have fun and if you have ideas and different names for some of them put it in comments and i made add them to a list or something who knows what i might do.

[sapphim]

All variations of that scene where Hawke's companions try to rescue them from the dungeon in Mark of the Assassin (someone please help them they're trying so hard). There is, of course, a danaduchy video compilation, but! I wanted something searchable so here it is.

also, while I'm here: look at my mod boy

Anders + Aveline

Anders: How many blighted rooms does this place have? Aveline: We've passed that sconce three times already. Anders: This is ridiculous! How could you get us lost inside the castle? Aveline: Right, it's my fault. Shall I go ask one of the guards for directions?

Anders + Bethany (Act 1)

Anders: Don't panic, but I think we've been through here before. Bethany: How can you tell? Every part of this dungeon looks exactly the same! Anders: You too? I thought it was just me. Bethany: Some rescue this is! My brother is probably being tortured right now, and we're lost in the middle of the hallway! Bethany: Some rescuers we are! The duke could be torturing my sister right now, and we're lost in the blighted hallway!

Anders + Bethany (Act 2-3)

Anders: Don't panic, but I think we've been through here before. Bethany: You're the one tearing your hair out. Anders: Typical Warden disregard. Do you even care anymore? Bethany: Yes, you should talk about what caring looks like. Keep moving. Anders: Does the Kirkwall Circle teach you to be smug? In addition to obedient, I mean. Bethany: When appropriate. Come on, let's just find them.

Anders + Carver

Anders: I told you we shouldn't have turned left back there! Carver: Excuse me if I don't share my dear brother's sense of direction! Carver: Maker forgive me for not having my sister's sense of direction! Anders: Oh, for Andraste's sake! Leave Hawke out of this! Carver: Perhaps we'll find our way by considering the plight of mages in modern—shut your bloody face!

Anders + Fenris

Anders: That's it. I'm taking the lead. Fenris: You think I'm going trust you to find Hawke? Anders: Could you stop with the, "All mages are evil," diatribe for one minute? Fenris: They may not all be evil, but one of them in particular is extremely annoying.

Anders + Isabela

Anders: All right, we should have tried your suggestion. Isabela: Which? Challenging the guards to a game of riddles and making, "Where is Hawke?" one of the questions? Anders: I meant the, "Follow one wall, and you'll navigate the maze," idea. Isabela: Well, we can try it next time. Either that, or, "Let's get a sledgehammer and break down the walls." I thought that had merit.

Anders + Merrill

Anders: What is wrong with Orlesians? Why build a prison with this many identical cells? Merrill: Maybe we should ask for directions. Anders: Of course, we'll say, "We're staging a daring prison break. Could you tell us where our friend is and then tie yourself up? Thanks!" Merrill: It's not possible to tie yourself up, is it? You'd never get the knots right.

Anders + Sebastian

Sebastian: Andraste, Lady of Sorrows, lead us from the darkness into the Maker's Light… Anders: Would you stop that? Andraste is not going to find Hawke for us! Sebastian: Have some faith, Anders. Anders: I have complete faith in your ability to make a bad situation worse!

Anders + Varric

Varric: Blondie, I hate to say this, but I'm pretty sure we've been here before. Anders: Blast it! But we went left this time! We shouldn't have come full-circle again! Varric: I wish I hadn't given that ball of twine to Daisy. Anders: You can't tell anyone about this! I mean it, Varric! Not a word!

Aveline + Bethany (Act 1)

Aveline: This can't be right. Bethany: We could sneak back to the kitchens and ask the servants where they are! If… we knew how to get there. Aveline: I'm not getting turned around again. Straight ahead. Bethany: Right. Because that's been working so well thus far.

Aveline + Bethany (Acts 2-3)

Aveline: This can't be right. Bethany: We could double back, I suppose. I expect we've got time. Aveline: Knowing your [sister/brother]? Probably. Bethany: Still, better make it look good. Wouldn't want her to feel neglected. Bethany: Still, we'd better hurry. Poor Brother might think we don't miss him.

Aveline + Carver (Act 1)

Carver: You never listen to me! Aveline: Say something worthwhile and I'll start! Carver: Right, shut up and follow orders. Left, right, that's what makes a good guardling. Aveline: Ugh. You're still such a tit.

Aveline + Carver (Acts 2-3)

Carver: The place is a maze. Another pass and then double back? Aveline: Sounds good. we'll do that. Carver: Really? Aveline: There a reason I should doubt you, [Warden/templar]?

Aveline + Fenris

Aveline: Did we turn left last time, or right? Fenris: What does it matter? Lost is lost. Aveline: I'm trying to change that, you sour…. Aveline: How does Hawke put up with this?

Aveline + Isabela

Isabela: If you'd let me handle that last guard, we'd have found Hawke by now! Aveline: Right. You'd be bent over a desk, and we'd be no closer than we are now. Isabela: Well, I'd be closer to something. Aveline: Shut up, whore.

Aveline + Merrill

Merrill: Aveline? Remember how you told me to tell you if I noticed anything peculiar? Merrill: Well, we've passed the same cracked floor tile nine times now. Aveline: We've been walking in circles and you only tell me now? Merrill: I wasn't sure. Maybe there are a lot of tiles broken in exactly the same way!

Aveline + Sebastian

Aveline: Ugh! We're back where we started! Sebastian: Blessed Andraste, guide us. Protect our friends in this dark hour. Aveline: While you're at it, ask the sky for reinforcements. And pie. Sebastian: You know, that kind of prayer has never worked for me.

Aveline + Varric

Aveline: We've been going in circles for over an hour. Varric: I'm so used to Hawke leading the way, I think my sense of direction has withered. Varric: So… wait here for [him/her] to rescue us? Aveline: When you tell this part? Leave it out.

Bethany + Fenris (Act 1)

Bethany: What am I going to tell Mother? "Sorry, I got lost and left your heir in an Orlesian's dungeon?" Bethany: She will never forgive me. My [brother/sister] will never forgive me! Carver and Father will come back from the grave just to haunt me! Fenris: What she'll say should be the least of your worries. We may die in here, and she'll never get the news. Bethany: You are not helping.

Bethany + Fenris (Acts 2-3)

Bethany: Bloody runaround twisted shite of a maze. Fenris: You've learned a few new words. Bethany: Wardens get called a few. Fenris: Undeservedly, I'm sure. Bethany: Not every book in the Circle is high literature. Fenris: Obviously.

Bethany + Isabela (Act 1)

Bethany: What are we going to do? Isabela: All right, just stay calm! What do we usually do when we're lost? Bethany: We ask my brother. Bethany: We'd ask my sister where to go. Isabela: Oh. Right. Well, we're screwed.

Bethany + Isabela (Acts 2-3)

Bethany: So, know where we're going? Isabela: Not a damned clue. Bethany: (Laughs.) Me neither! Isabela: Right. We pass the kitchen, I'm grabbing a bottle.

Bethany + Merrill (Act 1)

Bethany: Are we out of twine? Merrill: Yes. I was going to drop breadcrumbs, but we don't have any bread. Bethany: I can't believe we're this lost! Merrill: Don't worry! If we keep going, eventually we'll get somewhere! Probably an airing cupboard. I seem to wind up in those a lot.

Bethany + Merrill (Acts 2-3)

Bethany: Lost your spool of twine? Merrill: Yes. I was going to drop breadcrumbs, but we don't have any bread. Bethany: We'll find them, if they're still here to be found. Merrill: Don't worry! If we keep going, eventually we'll get somewhere! Probably an airing cupboard. I seem to wind up in those a lot.

Bethany + Sebastian

Bethany: No, the layout is wrong. We're back where we started. Bethany: [Warden] I swear, what I wouldn't give for a straightforward Deep Road and— Bethany: [Circle] It's backwards from every book on Orlais I've seen. It's just not— Sebastian: [the stupid little smirk and the head tilt and then running off full tilt without saying a word why did he do so much lmaoo] Bethany: [Sebmance active] Sister, you lucky bitch. Bethany: [else] Oh, Maker.

Bethany + Varric (Act 1)

Bethany: Aren't dwarves supposed to have some sort of "stone sense?" Varric: What good is that? Most of the chateau is stone. Knowing where the floor's at isn't going to help us. Bethany: Can't you… I don't know… always find your way around in… caves or something? Varric: Sunshine, all the caves we go to look exactly the same to me.

Bethany + Varric (Acts 2-3)

Bethany: Keep up, Varric. I'm sure we're almost there. Varric: You've certainly quickened your stride in the last few years. Bethany: [Warden] I found out there's a lot more to run from. Varric: And towards, I hope. Speaking of which, to the rescue! Bethany: [Circle] Too much to learn, or, you know, rescue. Varric: There's my Sunshine. Let's go!

Carver + Fenris (Act 1)

Carver: Shitting… piss-eared Orlesians and their… blighted dungeons! Fenris: "Piss-eared?" Did you get that from Meeran? Carver: We're lost and all you can do is criticize me? Fenris: It passes the time.

Carver + Fenris (Acts 2-3)

Carver: Orlesians. Can't build a hallway without turning it into a maze. Fenris: Keep going. I'm sure your training will kick in any moment. Carver: Still don't like me? I've tried to change. Fenris: You have. Now you're dangerous. Let's move.

Carver + Isabela (Act 1)

Carver: You just leave this to me. I can handle everything. Isabela: How could I possibly interfere? Carver, the magnificent hero to the rescue! Carver: Do you have to do that? Really? Isabela: No, this is strictly optional.

Carver + Isabela (Acts 2-3)

Carver: You just leave this to me. I can handle everything. Isabela: I'm starting to think you could. Carver: What was that? A compliment? I'm a little frightened. Isabela: I know! Let's get these people rescued before it happens again.

Carver + Merrill (Act 1)

Carver: I don't understand it! This should be the right way. Merrill: If we have to be lost somewhere, at least it's a nice hallway! Very well built, not at all likely to collapse. Carver: Don't worry. It's got to be… left. Is it left? I mean, of course it's left. Merrill: Also, I'm pretty sure spiders won't attack us! Not even the little ones.

Carver + Merrill (Acts 2-3, no Merrillmance)

Carver: Okay, we're lost together. Both of us, not that we're "together" together. Merrill: If we have to be lost somewhere, at least it's a nice hallway! Very well built, not at all likely to collapse. Carver: Right, well, back to rescuing… wait. You're doing that on purpose! Merrill: (Giggles.)

Carver + Merrill (Acts 2-3, Merrillmance active)

Carver: A shame we didn't have time like this back in Kirkwall. Back then. Merrill: If we have to be lost somewhere, at least it's a nice hallway! Very well built, not at all likely to collapse. Carver: Right, well, let's get to it. My [sister/brother] will be missing you. Merrill: I'm glad you think so.

Carver + Sebastian

Carver: And we are back to front yet again. Sebastian: Blessed Andraste, guide us. Protect our friends in this dark hour. Carver: Right. Prayer. Useful, useful. Or we could do something. Sebastian: Guide us by the wisdom of your light… in silence.

Carver + Varric (Act 1)

Carver: Go ahead. I know you're thinking it, dwarf. Varric: What? What did I do now? Carver: "Your brother wouldn't have gotten lost. He'd have rescued everyone by now." Carver: "Your sister wouldn't have gotten lost! She'd have us all back at the tavern by now!" Varric: Actually, I was thinking, "All these hallways look alike." But sure, knock yourself out, Junior.

Carver + Varric (Acts 2-3)

Carver: So, we're lost. Varric: Just like old times. Carver: Maker, I hope not. I was an ass. Varric: (Laughs.) Fair comment, Junior. All right, let's get this done.

Fenris + Isabela

Fenris: So… we're lost? Isabela: Definitely. Fenris: Now what do we do? Isabela: I could try to guess the color of your underclothes again.

Fenris + Merrill

Fenris: I don't want to hear another word out of you. Merrill: But I was just— Fenris: Not. One. Word. Merrill: Is it all right if I hum? Or maybe whistle?

Fenris + Sebastian

Fenris: Maybe you should start praying that we'll find them. Sebastian: I have been for the last half an hour. I could do so out loud, if you'd prefer. Sebastian: Blessed Andraste, Bride of the Maker, deliver us from this warren of evil. Fenris: In that case, maybe you should stop.

Fenris + Varric

Fenris: And… here we are again. For the fourth time. Varric: Fifth, I think. Fenris: What do we do now? Varric: Play Diamondback and wait for Hawke to find us?

Isabela + Merrill

Merrill: Isabela? Um… I think we've been here before. We've passed that same cracked tile six times now. Isabela: Andraste's granny-panties! I knew things were going too smoothly! Merrill: Does Andraste really wear granny-panties? How do you know all these things? Isabela: (Sighs.) Come on, Kitten. Let's see if we can find the entrance and start again.

Isabela + Sebastian

Isabela: Eenie, meenie, miney, moe… Sebastian: I'm not sure that's the best way to find them. Isabela: We already tried "pray for Andraste to guide us" and "wander like drunken vagrants." We're running out of options. Isabela: Unless you want to find a chicken for an augury, we're going with counting games.

Isabela + Varric

Isabela: I give up! We've been through every inch of this place twice, and there's no sign of them! Varric: Or we've been through the same twenty feet of this place about a dozen times. It's hard to tell, Rivaini. Isabela: We should have gone treasure-hunting in Wildervale instead. Varric: You're still upset that you couldn't swipe a drink from the party, aren't you?

Merrill + Sebastian

Merrill: I… think we've been through here before. Sebastian: Now that you mention it, we have seen that chipped cornice a few times, haven't we? Merrill: All right, don't panic! Every other time I've gotten very lost, Hawke has found me. Sebastian: Merrill? I don't think he can rescue us until we rescue him first. Sebastian: Uh, Merrill? I don't think she can rescue us before we rescue her.

Merrill + Varric

Varric: Daisy? You don't happen to have that ball of twine, do you? Merrill: I knew I forgot something when we left Kirkwall! Varric: Don't beat yourself up over it. We'll just… wait here until I think of something. Merrill: I'm sure that won't take very long. You're always thinking of things!

Sebastian + Varric

Sebastian: When you tell people about this part of our adventure, what are you going to say? Varric: That depends entirely on the audience, Choir Boy. Sebastian: You change the story to suit the listener? Varric: Of course. All the bullshit in the world won't convince Hawke we rescued him if he finds us first. Varric: No bullshit—however well-told—will persuade Hawke that we rescued her if she finds us first. That's common sense.

[maybeeatspaghetti]

Alright, here are the CBorle mentions in Spamalot Diaries:

‘However, there are many pluses. Christian Borle, the young man playing Prince Herbert, a newcomer to many, is quite brilliant. He is a really funny guy. In fact, the cast is impeccable. Steve Rosen is hilarious as Galahad's mother. Despite a wander across the north of England, ending up in Scotland for the accent of Doug Sills, Christian is quite benevolent and well-meaning and he draws lots of laughs. He has charm and what John Du Prez calls "a delightful swagger."’ Pg 54

‘She chose an epic day to come to rehearsal, as she witnessed a rather dramatic scene. Mike greeted her with joy and sat her behind us at the table, where we were watching Doug Sills failing to be amusing with young Christian Borle as Prince Herbert. One day, lad, all this will be yours. What, the curtains? No, not the curtains, lad… While Doug was fine as the rather vain Sir Galahad, he could never get anywhere close to Michael Palin's Father of Prince Herbert role, neither the Yorkshire accent nor the gradually mounting frustration. He seemed only able to go straight to rage. Mike gives me a worried glance, and then suddenly and without warning Doug begins slapping Christian around. Real hard slaps, until Christian says, "Whoa, stop that! Time out." There is a moment of stunned silence in the room. A shocked Casey says, "Take five, everyone" People stand around confused. What just happened? Mike walks me over to the big window for a private talk. "What do you think?" he says. "Well, if I work with him, I think I can help him with the Yorkshire accent," I suggest. "No. I'm going to fire him," says Mike. "Might as well do it now." And he does. Just like that. Takes him out to lunch and Doug doesn't return. I love that about Mike. He doesn't tolerate anything for long.‘ Pg 81

“We move from the strong powerful voice of Tim and the sweetness of Michael's Patsy through the silliness of Christian (a uniquely gifted clown), to the magnificent control of David, who is cheered to the rafters for his amazingly deft and delicate and hilarious rendition of "You Won't Succeed on Broadway." Add the charm of Hank, the sweetness and confident lunacy of Steve, and top it with the amazing genius of Sara, and it is a heady recipe.” Pg 95

‘Wow. Spamalot was a triumph. Its first public dress rehearsal last night opened to prolonged, triumphant laughter… They adored "I Am Not Dead Yet”, and Christian throughout was a hit.’ Pg 100

“Prince Herbert was hilarious, largely because Christian is so funny.” Pg 102

‘On the way into the hotel my flight for the next day was already showing canceled, so I canceled my car—I knew I was going nowhere Saturday. Best see the show again. Which I did (twice); and to give myself a little fillip, I suggested to Christian that I come on as the Historian at the start of act 2, then he could come on and tell me to "fuck off." He liked that idea. Peter, the stage manager, was nuts about it, so I dressed up in the second costume, with the Historian's tweed jacket and waistcoat and bow tie, and stepped out onto the stage. Most of the cast was in the wings. I wasn't sure what the reaction would be, but I could never have expected how it was: the audience went absolutely crazy, there was a roar and then applause and then cheering and then a standing ovation. They wouldn't stop. I didn't know what to do. I tried to deadpan my way through and hope they'd stop so I could say my one line. But they wouldn't. In the end I had to smile and nod and recognize them, and even then they wouldn't stop; so I gestured for about a minute for them to quieten. Only then could I say my line. Then there was Christian standing next to me with hands on hips. "Fuck off, Idle," he said and I exited meekly to roars of laughter. "Everyone wants to be a comedian," he ad-libbed.... But it sure started act 2 with a wallop and the cast were overjoyed. "Thanks for waking them up," said Tim and David.’ Pg 140

‘NOTES: At the top of act 2, Eric Idle appeared as a Faux Historian in his own costume. He began the Historian's speech to loud cheers and applause from the audience, and was then interrupted (planned) by Christian, who said, "Fuck off, Idle." Eric promptly, obediently, left the stage-again to great cheers.’ Pg 143

“What Mike did was to find the very best and finest. Casey was a brilliant call. His first gig, too. Sara is about to be a star, Christian Borle is a comedy genius, Hank is a pillar of laughs, and Christopher Sieber, who came in at just the right time, is extraordinary. Mike is probably the best casting director in the business.” Pg 167

These are awesome ✨

Thanks for sharing!!

[art-but-only-sometimes]

Pt.5 of 12 to 20 Heart Stardew headcannon events! Shane!

It's been a bit! But~

Shane:

🍕 12 heart event: (this event only occurs when it is raining) You are heading home and run into Shane. It is raining Shane is surprised but happy to see you. He notices your clothes are really wet. He asks you if you're cold. (Nah, I'm good./ A little yeah, I didn't expect it to rain this much today.) If you choose the first option he invites you into Marnie's house and the two of drink sodas in the kitchen. If you choose the second option he gives you his jacket and invites you inside, and you two warm up in front of the fireplace.

🍕 14-heart event: Shane sends you a letter asking you to come over and look at the new chickens that have hatched. He tells you all about them, and then the conversation shifts to you and his relationship. He's honestly so happy to be in a relationship with you, he's not 100% sure why you'd want to date him but he's so glad you are.

🍕 16 heart event: you go to Marnie's and she is surprised but also happy to see you. She tells you that Shane is out by the lake he's been pretty depressed lately. (has he been drinking?/oh no, I thought he was taking his medication.) Either way, Marnie directs you to the lake outside. She's hoping a talk with you will make Shane feel better. You go out to the lake and see Shane sitting there by himself. Beer in hand but unopened. You approach him, surprising him. He drops the beer in the lake. He was hoping that you wouldn't see him like this. You sit down next to him. He says he'd been feeling so much better lately but today he just feels terrible. He thought he'd come out of the ditch he'd tried so hard to climb out of but he just feels like he climbed right back in. You two sit there for a while, quietly.

🍕 18 heart event: Shane shows up at your door. He says he has been feeling a lot better lately. He says he wants to do something with you. His therapist recommended he do something with the people he loves. He asks you what you'd like to do. (we could go see a movie/ we could play some video games.) either way, Shane agrees, saying that your suggestion is a good idea. If you go see the movie you meet Shane at the movie theatre, he gives you a ticket and you two head in and watch a movie, you both have a great time. You two leave the theatre and outside of the theatre, he kisses you. If you choose videogames you meet Shane in his room. He's glad you're here and he didn't think you liked videogames that much. You two play games for a while getting closer together. He's kind of surprised at how good you are at this. He kind of gets determined to beat you at the game. The game ends in a tie, Shane is happy that you showed up and had a great time. Before you leave Shane gives you a kiss. He hopes you can come over again and play video games with him soon.

🐚 ~ Marriage~ 🐚

🍕 20-Heart Event: Same as Shane's normal 14-heart event at the saloon.

Elliott 🪶/ Sam 🎸/ Sebastian🎮 / Alex 🏈/ Shane 🍕/ Harvey✈️ Maru 🤖/ Haley 📷/ Leah 🎨/ Abigail ⚔️ / Penny 📖/ Emily 🧵

[sleepy-yn]

Veil of Secrets

Chapter 1

Content Warnings: mentions of parental abuse (smacking, injury from sharp object), mentions of death and murder.

Word Count: 864

Y/N POV

“I don’t see why transferring schools is important right now. What does it matter that he goes there? Can’t I be my own person without following him around like a lapdog?”

SMACK

The familiar burn on my cheek extends to a sting in my eyes as I glare at my father. If only my mother were here to witness what she left me with. 

“You have been difficult your whole life; why must you create a problem for every circumstance?”

As he paces the room I can’t help but think of what difficulty he is referring to. Must be his other family. Was that the reason mom left?

“I’ve done everything you’ve ever wanted, not sure who you’re confusing me with.”

“You’re just like your mother. You will attend Haneul High because I say so! What’s the use in keeping you if you can’t learn to obey as you’re supposed to? I’m your father am I not?”

Now before I continue, I must let you know that I did not think this comment through (as you will soon realize is a common occurrence). So if I go silent before my time is up at Haneul then my mouth must have gotten me killed. 

“I don’t know; why are you asking me?”

I had no time to react before I saw him pick up the fire poker. 

—- 

“Why do you insist on using that mouth of yours when you know all it does is bring you trouble?” Leehan tries to scold me, but I recognize the lift of his lip all too well. 

“Well, when my freedom is on the line, I can’t just zip it up. I mean, how am I supposed to survive this new school without my puppy there to clean me up after all my fights?” I hold his ear and shake his head a bit. Rolling his eyes, he shoves my hand away. 

“If you don’t control that mouth, then this ‘puppy’-” he uses air quotes - “won't ever see you again. You already know what happened to your mother.” 

I don’t tell him that I still haven’t figured it out. Truth is, I’ve stopped looking for answers about where my mother has gone. If I had more concrete evidence I would have suggested my father got rid of her, but truthfully, it’s just as likely that she just decided to leave on her own accord. 

“Hey, don’t get all quiet on me”

“So, do I use my mouth or not at all?” I quip.

“Yah, just make sure not to use it too much with your fiance. All you need to do is survive at least a year with him, it’s not like you’ll get trapped by-” “Enough. I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.” I stand up with his hand around my arm and wipe my ass that’s been sitting on his front porch step.

“All I’m saying is, it might be your safest option to not be yourself. Remember when your mom just left? How quiet you got? Maybe it’s not a bad idea to revert back to her.” 

I don’t tell him he’s right. Leehan has never been one to let go of any chance to shove in my face that he’s smarter than I am. 

“Why couldn’t I have been matched with you? That way I can keep this puppy all to myself.” I squish his cheeks with the palms of my hand.

“Because-” he grips my wrists and shoves my hands away- “this puppy has needs. I’m a man don’t you know.” He smirks fully at me and walks inside. “Ugh Leehan what the fuck?! You whore”

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it, princess.”

—- 

Unknown POV

I can’t help from swallowing hard, I can see my Adams apple move in the reflection of the window beside me. Why am I doing this? Has my free will expired? 

“You know there’s no backing out now right? You WILL marry that girl, no matter how guilty you feel. We made a deal and I am not someone that turns the other cheek often, if not ever.”

“I-I understand. But you also made me a promise not to hurt them. Will that still be honored, or am I expected to turn the other cheek?” 

That goddamn chuckle echoes in my ear as the figure stands from their desk. I don’t know if it's on purpose, but their walk is so goddamn menacing. Hands reach out and fix my tie.

“All you need to do is marry her, bonus if you can produce a LEGITIMATE heir. But looking at the state of you, I can see that might be difficult.” They grip the collar of my shirt and bring me forward. “But if you make any attempt to warn her, I will not hesitate to break my end of the promise.”

They shove me away, and I regain my balance before my ass touches the floor. As I trip my way toward the exit, they whistle for my attention.

“Be careful with her, you might think you can handle her but she’s not an easy girl. Now get the fuck out of my office.” 

—

A/N: Here's the first chapter, and lowkey, just a preview of what I have planned for this fic. The majority vote said Sungchan (RIIZE) would be the main lead, and Sohee (RIIZE) would be the second lead. But who do you think is the unknown POV? If you want to be added to the tag list, please LMK!

Taglist:

@r0ckzst4r5

@bcfwwe

@jarrmate

@queenmirae7

@day30nz @swytcheriish

[eunchancorner]

Rambles and Realizations (TTT)

I tried my best to write drunk Henry, and it just kinda went all over the place.

TW for alcohol consumption

-

Henry couldn’t hold his liquor to save his life. A lesson Carol had learned the hard way.

Normally, Henry didn’t like to get drunk anyway; he claims he doesn’t like how it feels, but Carol always felt like it was because he was embarrassed about being such a lightweight compared to the others. Nowadays, feeling like someone wanted his head on a mount also helped deter him.

But, tonight, he’d decided to go for it, as long as Carol was by his side. He claimed he could use something to help him destress after the hassle of addressing new members, the complications of canceling the rocket project, and constantly having to look over his shoulder. He’d suggested having one of the new recruits, a woman named Ellie, over to drink as well, but Carol still didn’t totally trust her, so she pushed against the idea. Henry had conceded, and she’d brought over some whiskey for them to share. 

A couple of shots in and Carol had decided that, for both of their sakes, she should stop, so she could keep an eye on him. Henry, however, kept going. Which led to where they were now.

Henry’s face on his desk, blubbering about ‘timelines’ and ‘endings’ and ‘fails’ and other things that made Carol wonder if Henry was just straight-up crazy.

“And-and in the one, where uhm- there’s this guy named Charles, y-you don’t know him, great guy, absolutely beautiful- a-anyway- and he- he picks us up, from like, the Wall, a-and takes me and Ellie to the rocket base, a-and then, we start an epic dance party! And then we, uh, w-we tie Sven up, and, uh, send the rocket to, uh, the-the uhm, the Wall. A-and then! There’s this- this one where I steal the rocket! And turn it into… uhm… I-I forgot, uh… shit, it was uhm…”

What is this idiot talking about? she caught herself thinking. Carol couldn’t tell whether she wanted to hit him and make him shut up, or laugh at how ridiculous it all sounded.

“God, Henry, you have one hell of an imagination when you’re drunk, don’t you?” she cut into his ramblings with a quiet chuckle, making him stop and turn to face her.

“Nononono, it’s- it’s all real! There-there was one where E-Ellie helped me escape, but I-I left her, and I came back here a-and she followed me! A-and she dethroned me! But I got away, with-with Thomas and Geoffrey a-and Dave!”

“Who the hell is Dave?”

“Th-the prisoner guy! Go- go ask him! And-and then we meet up with some weirdo in the desert! It’s true! I-I know it sounds crazy!”

Carol rolled her eyes at him. It sounded a lot more than crazy, but she decided to humor him.

“And are any of these endings one where you die, then?” she asked, expecting some ramble about him being ‘immortal’ or something.

Instead, he went quiet, averting his gaze for a few moments. Carol could see his mood shift almost immediately.

“S-some, yeah…” he finally began speaking again, “It’s- it’s mostly fails, but… there’s- there’s one where, uh, Reginald succeeded in throwing me off, a-and I fell into the ocean. Then- then this doctor lady gives me robot parts, a-and I come back, and crash the airship and I-I kill everyone… then-then I die, too…”

“Oh… damn… What do you mean, succeeded? Like… does he try and fail in one of these other timelines?” she questioned, raising a brow.

“This one! H-he did that in this one, but- but I was too fast for the bastard! I knew it was coming this time, heh…”

Carol’s blood ran cold. Reginald DID try to kill him! I fucking knew it! she thought.

“Henry, when did this happen?” she asked him, turning him in his chair to face her. “When did Reginald try to kill you?”

“When- when you guys were rescuing me, duh! He caught me and tried to throw me back down, but I grabbed his wrist! And- and I think the- his Right Hand Man was in on it! But you can’t tell anyone, okay? Especially not Carol, she’ll- she’ll flip!”

“... Right. I won’t tell her,” she ‘agreed’. “Anything else I need to know about?”

“Uhhhhhhh…” he seemed to zone out for a few minutes, before snapping back to reality. “Ellie!! I-I need to make friends with Ellie again! She doesn’t know it, but- but her and I are, like, best friends! And she, uh, she- she helped me get with uh, Charles a few times! And- and we did dumb shit together, heh… she’s so fun…”

“So you need to… befriend Ellie?” she tried not to sound as shocked as she was at the sudden change. I didn’t think we’d go from attempted murder to… friendship so fast.

“Yeah, yeahyeahyeah, she’s, like, the coolest person ever!”

“Ouch,” she feigned disappointment, chuckling as Henry scrambled to reassure her.

“You’re- You’re cool too! You’re strong, and intimidating, and-and you’re smart! You keep everyone in line! You kick ass but you’re also, like, really good at planning! You’re, like, the best Right Hand I could have picked!”

“Aw, Henry…” she couldn’t help but smile at him, “Thank you. You’re the best leader I could be the Right Hand to.”

Her smile quickly faded as he suddenly hugged her, and she quickly pushed him off.

“No, no hugging,” she scolded, but immediately felt bad when he looked hurt. With a groan, she conceded. “Fine. One.”

He quickly hugged her again, the smile returning to his face. She pat his back, grumbling quietly at how affectionate he was being, and after a few moments, she shoved him back off.

“Alright, hug’s over, get off.”

“Aww, okay… thanks for being here…” he told her as he laid his head on his desk. She shrugged, though she could feel a small smile forming on her face once more.

“It’s my job to be here, y’know,” she dismissed him, but he shook his head.

“No, you-you could just be sitting outside of the door… but you’re in here… with me… and that’s really nice… because i-it gets lonely… in here… no one to trust… but- but then you come in. And suddenly, I’m not lonely. And- and you could’ve left, but, y-you didn’t. You’re staying… s-so thanks…”

She couldn’t help but smile softly at him, patting his back as he began to drift off.

“Yeah, yeah… You’re welcome, chief.”