#hired a contortionist for a reason

[squirrelwrangler]

today's WoT episode captured the emotion from reading a certain chapter of TGH and it was great but also i hate you, show, you did a great job

[commanderthalys]

New blorbo has a name now! Soren my beautiful little babygirl. They use they/he/she any of those are cool 👍

- as a sapling they saw someone with tattoos and thought that was cool as fuck, but didn’t like committing to something permanent, so that’s where the body mod idea came in since he’s sylvari and can change shape!

- off of that idea, they’re afraid to commit to long term romantic relationships. They want to and do try, but it still scares them a little. Permanency in general scares him a wee bit.

- they’re the kind of friend that loves to shower you with gifts. If you’re having a bad day she’s taking you shopping and you ARE going to pick out something you like

- he thinks he’s the most beautiful but isn’t necessarily arrogant about it? To them it’s just fact if that makes sense? Like they don’t brag about it to put others down.

- probably has some Mesmer abilities, which is another reason he’s often hired. It adds a little something extra to any situation!

- some of her more extreme body accessories include various horns, claws, and even wings! They’re all purely art and otherwise mostly useless

- weirdly flexible. He can do some freaky ass contortionist shit

- can easily change their marking color and glow color!

[anxiouslyfred]

Meeting the Regulars

Summary: Since dating Remus, Virgil has been convinced to become co-owner of his Chaos Bakery. Now he just needs to meet the other regular customers Remus has.

Part of my Chaos Bakery series on ao3, tumblr stories: Lunch Breaks, Upside Down on a Countertop, Pre-salted Coffee

/\/\

Virgil had known when he agreed to co-own the chaos bakery that Remus had other regular customers. He'd understood that seeing someone less likely to get into ridiculous balances was likely to be a change for them as well as him once he began running the counter.

He was not expecting Remus to list out who the regulars they knew best were and dare him to guess which was which. Probably should have really, given they had always insisted Virgil was an outlier among them purely from the time he usually visited. Still he didn't care to actually go along with the guessing game today, despite it being the first shift he was on while the other regulars were likely to visit. Remus would definitely be listening in to conversation from the kitchen as well which was as unnerving as it was comforting.

The first customer to come in paused at the sight of Virgil, glancing around the cafe for a moment before back to him. “Not sure if I need to be more or less worried that you aren't Remus.” They greeted, finally coming over to the counter.

“Less. I'm not going to do anything like him beyond the weird flavour combinations this place is known for.” Virgil replied, shrugging as he carried on straightening the cups on the side. “They're in the kitchen today.”

“Alright. Glad he's finally hired someone to help cover shifts I guess. What would you suggest from today's menu?” The guy nodded, looking over the specials board curiously.

Virgil scrutinised the customer for a moment. “Pear and chives hot chocolate. It's odd but good. Really Re just conned their boyfriend into becoming co-owner of this place. Which regular are you, then?”

“Thomas. I'm trusting you on that drink, but can I also have the cucumber and curried tuna sandwich?” Thomas introduced himself, picking one of the sandwiches from the board after a moment deciding.

With a nod and a wave to one of the tables the interaction was done despite them both clearly hearing complaints from Remus that Virgil didn't try to guess who before asking.

It wasn't long after that that the next regular came in, easily recognisable from the pause identical to Thomas's as he registered Virgil behind the counter. “You are entirely expected, almost as much as Remus's contortionist act.” They greeted coming over.

Hearing a clatter from the kitchen, Virgil sighed and turned away. “Thanks, now I have to go get him upright again before a fire starts.”

When he managed to get Remus back to working safely rather than twisting into the most unlikely shapes for a human body the customer was still stood waiting at the counter, leaning over it to try and see through into the kitchen.

“So were you hired to teach Remus kitchen safety or is there another reason to become an employee?” They asked, but pointed at a couple of options on the menu as if their words were an order. Virgil ignored their hands though.

“Steadier wage than being an artist. Are you one of the regulars or just a nosey occasional visitor?” He countered, smirking at the raised eyebrow that got.

The man leant away a hand on his chest in an exaggerated reaction. “I'm sure I couldn't say. Will you take my order now?”

“Sounds like Jan! Or Adrian, whichever name they're using today.” Remus called through, getting both of them to glance back at the kitchen door.

“Great and yeah, anytime you want to say it, I'll take it.” Virgil nodded, not using either name if this person moved between two.

He'd just finished serving Jan or Adrian when the door chimed for another customer coming in, once again pausing although for a lot less than either of the regulars that had come in so far. “Babes, I don't know who you are but you better make coffee with as much espresso as Remus does.”

“I max out at adding four. You the guy that needs cakes choosing for it?” Virgil knew that there were only 3 main regulars and with Thomas and Jan already there, Remy was the last to come in.

“Name's Remy, sunshine and yeah that's me. Who are you?”

“New Co-owner, Virgil.” He introduced, going over to the cakes display to pick a random one. He'd got the notes on allergies for these regulars already so now he knew who was who he could pick their snacks out quickly.

Remy lowered its sunglasses to look him over. “Are you Mr Hot Regular? I gotta say when I heard that title didn't go to me, I was offended. Can't fault Remus's taste though. You are hot.”

“You have two minutes to chose your drink while I murder Remus.” Virgil smiled pleasantly disappearing into the kitchen where his boyfriend had begun cackling.

The Chaos Bakery might live up to its name, but at least it's regulars were welcoming to Virgil becoming co-owner.

[theyanderespecialist]

What A Mouth (One Shot) Robo Fizz X Marie OC

[Hello My Sexy Readers, I am back with my co author with a request for Marie With Robo Fizz and her being a contortionist this is that story and I hope you all enjoy this chapter here my super sexy sinners!]

(no one's pov)

"Bye"

"peace."

"I'm going to get shit face drunk." A few imps said leaving the shower as Marie, the contortionist stayed behind, mostly because she prefers to shower alone. Besides. Sometimes people leave their belongings behind.

Hey of it was important, they wouldn't leave it. She rinsed out her hair, shaking her head before drying out her hair as best she could, looking at the white strands. "..Maybe I should dye my hair. Would lead to a lot less confusion about my gender."

She walked out, wrapping the towel around her as she went to go to where her clothes were only to run into a pair of long legs.

"What the--oh what the fuck are you doing in the female showers you rust bucket?" She asked.

"I am here for you my dear~" he purrs

She looked at him confused before glaring. "I ain't in the mood, that was one time I asked you to eat me out, that was it, I ain't hiring you again, not right now. Got other things I have to pay for."

"Who says you would have to pay~" He teases. "This one is free of charge~" He adds then lunges for her.

She let out a yelp as he coiled his arms around her, completely immobilizing her as she squirmed to get out of his grip, the towel already haven fallen to the ground. It had already served it's purpose. She squirmed in his arms and he smirked letting his tongue roll out.

He Smirked more letting it lick the side of her face. "Don't be so-so-so cruel." he said, his voice occasionally skipping. "You liked it before. You really liked it from what I remember."

"Shut your dirty whore mouth!" She snapped

However her red face was an even darker shade of Maroon as she squrimed as his tongue pushed against her mouth, causing her to shut it tightly.

"Oh come now~ I know you want it~" he purred and squeeze her ass making her gasp

He smirked asking the opportunity. "Now, don't bite~!" He said as he shoved his tongue into her mouth as she let out a noise of shock.

He kisses her for the first time basically throat fucking her with his tongue

To him, it was magical, something he only dreamt he would get to experience. For her, she was trying not to gag with his tongue going down her throat. She could not breath so she bit his tongue hard

He retracted his tongue however he only smiled at her. "Next time just tap my arm~" He said as he once more went back to kissing her however his hands dip between her legs as she let out a shaky, muffled moan as his smirk widened pulling back again, their saliva, well, hers, creating a trail.

"Are you ready~?" He asked, not exactly waiting for a response as he delved down, parting her thighs as she didn't even try to fight him, she didn't really even want to fight him..

He dived his tongue onto her clit and into her and moved it around. He had one hell of a mouth and she could not help but become soaked and jerk on his mouth.

It was true that she had gone to him after work. At first it was because another worker dared her too, but halfway through, she wanted more, the only reason she didn't exactly want to go to him again, was he was oddly clingy after that, and she didn't think she could handle more robofizz than she already had to deal with..but if this is what it was like..

She gripped onto him as he kept her suspended off the ground, not that it was exactly hard given her small stature.

"Oh fucking satan.." She groaned out, her legs shaking slightly.

"You will call my name~" He purred.

She nodded and he hit hard down on her gspot and she was gushing her orgasm all over him and in his mouth

She gripped onto him, finally, she called out his name, letting it bounce off the walls of the shower room.

"Fuckin Christ! Fizz!" She cried out as she gripped onto him.

He licked her clean and then pulled away. "You are mine now~ My sweet little Mar Mar~"

She looked down at him with half lidded eyes, in her own little haze from all these endorphins, she nodded, silently agreeing, not really thinking clearly, not that she wanted too. He carried her off to his private tent and laid her down on the softest bed she ever felt. She looked at him as he smirked down at her, climbing on top of her as she looked up at him with hooded eyes as he smirked down at her.

"Mine.. Only Mine~" he said, repeating that phrase over and over

He spread her legs and took his large cock out~

(Robo Fizz's POV)

I see Marie look down as she froze looking back up at me. "T-That definitely won't fit." She said looking up at me.

"It will fit, don't worry~" I said smirking down at her as I rub my weeping head against her wet core as she reached up to suddenly grab my hand. "Oh come on, surely you're used to it." I said smiling as she shook her head. "I-I haven't had anyone else.." she said

I stop but smile and kiss her. "Then I will go slow for you." I say just happy I be her first and only

She looked at me. "...N-No..I-I want you to go at your own pace, just..just make me feel good>"

"I will~" I purr and slowly slip my cock in I felt her hurt tear and then I froze. I wanted her to at least adjust

She gripped onto me as I looked down at her, just taking my time to get in her, watching as her core hungrily sucked me in deep and deeper. She held my hand and once I was all the way in I still and let her adjust to the feeling she panted softly. She wrapped her legs around me suddenly as she moaned out for me, begging me~

I smirked who was I to say no to my little star~

She was doing so well for me~ "You want me to move?"

"Y-Yes p-please!" She said, a side I've never seen. Begging does suit her though~

I smirked and kiss her again pulling out and thrusting in.

Her insides clung to me every time I would enter with her moaning my name, sometimes screaming it into my mouth as she took her legs, putting them behind her head. I smirked and kissed her deeper and rub her clit with my free hand and held her hand with my other as I fuck her hard and fast. She cried out her head tilting back as I lean in more so this kiss wasn't broken as I felt her squeezing down on me. I groaned as my cock pulse and man did it feel good.

She suddenly thrusts back up into me clearly she was trying to get over that wall. I smirked and put up on the vibrations. She let out a shocker cry as I smirked continuing to thrist into her as she grabbed me..

"I-I can't hold.on!"

I looked at her and stopped and she pants

That's when I realized she wasn't talking about not being able to hold me..She couldn't hold on to her orgasm as she sduddenly tightened around me, draining me as well as I fill her, both of our climaxes mixing together as she gripped onto me

We rode out our orgasms and then I pull out and lay next to her. "We will talk in the morning f-f-for now sleep." I tell her.

She looked at me obviously warnnout as she nodded.

I smile and snuggle her close. We fall asleep and now she is mine.

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS now I do not know if I am going to do a part two but for sure this chapter is done and we hope you all enjoyed and stay sexy!]

[cuntycassandra]

What’s your dream job?

Omg hi ink!! *dramatically waves*

I have a few answers for this, with different connotations.

Practically, I’m looking at becoming a psychologist. It’s no secret I’ve had quite a rough time with my mental health, and I haven’t received the most efficient help, so I really want to be able to offer the help to people like me who desperately need it. My only problem is, psychology isn’t a very in demand subject right now because of how many people want to do it. So is anybody even going to be hiring when I finish my degree? Ughhh big confusion.

Next up (and no I’m not kidding) is a contortionist for some kind of circus or performing arts. I’m currently experiencing a bit of a crisis, and my mind is like “hey Bea, we’re actually not gonna go to university this September. We’re going to join a circus”, and instead of brushing it off, I kinda thought “wait...brain you’re onto something.” So, I’m naturally very flexible, I did a lot of gymnastics growing up, and I competitively danced from ages 3 until 14, however I had to quit for medical reasons. I never stopped my contortion because I enjoyed it, and would just randomly contort into odd shapes in the strangest of places, mainly to embarrass my friends who hated making scenes. Over lockdown I did a lot of perfecting with it, and I’d like to say I’ve gotten pretty good. So, if everything with my university goes wrong I’m heading off to be an acrobat for the circus lmao. Come see my shows guys.

And finally, this one is more of an irrational want than a consideration, I’d actually really like to be a historian full time, just writing loads of biographies about my faves (lmao writing a short novel on Jacky to give him the credit he deserves) but it doesn’t pay well enough for me to live with financial independence when I hit my twenties, which isn’t that far away, so that’s probably not going to happen.

Lmao sorry for spilling my life story there, Ink, I hope I kind of answered the question.

[wazafam]

When most people think of anti-hero or villain teams in the DC Universe the immediate group that comes to mind is the Suicide Squad. It's certainly a novel concept: A bunch of street-level villains getting bombs stuck in their head and sent out on the kind of missions that no one else is crazy enough or desperate enough to attempt. It's resulted in some pretty classic comics too. No disrespect to Rick Flagg and company, but DC's got a much better villain team on its roster; a gang of damaged or outright deranged misfits who take on some of the most twisted quests ever to pop up in the DCU, that's when they're not hooking up stabbing each other in the back. Behold, the Secret Six in all their unstable, lovable glory.

While a TV adaption was once optioned by CBS, the Secret Six has always been an obscure title. The team originally started as a spy comic of sorts in the 1960s, followed by a reboot in the 80s. The most beloved and interesting version of the team came to form with writer Gail Simone's Villains United mini-series, created as part of the Countdown to Infinite Crisis tie-ins.

Related: The Suicide Squad's Biggest Mystery is Finally Explained By DC

Led by a disguised Lex Luthor under the moniker of Mockingbird, the team consisted the Suicide Squad's own Deadshot, and a cadre of D-list villains and new creations like Catman, Cheshire, Knockout, Ragdoll, a random Parademon, and Scandal Savage. While many team-members would be killed off over time or switched with more high-profile characters, Catman, Deadshot, Scandal, and Ragdoll remain mainstays of the team through all of Simone's initial run on the series. While they initially started as villains bent on world domination, in truth, the Six are a lot closer to outlaws or mercenaries. They take on various jobs, some heroic and some outright despicable. Really anything that puts meat on the table. It should also be worth noting that they're all a bunch of weirdos.

Villains United proved to be lightning in a bottle that would spawn an entire run. The series about a group of oddball characters that don't fit in with heroes or villains struck a perfect balance between black comedy and character-driven drama. Every character in the series gets such a unique and fitting characterization. Deadshot is a pornstache personified; Floyd Lawton has never been as skeezy or charming as he is under Simone's pen. Ragdoll is essentially a violent contortionist version of  Dean Craig Pelton from Community. Scandal Savage is the badass lesbian ninja and daughter of Vandal Savage, who serves as team leader and voice of reason throughout the series. Lastly, Catman is probably the most remarkable character on the team and the closest thing to the protagonist of the series. Before Secret Six, Thomas Blake was written as an overweight loser who was eaten by a talking Gorilla in Brad Meltzer's Green Arrow series. Simone rewrote the character from the ground up and created one of the most layered and cool Batman knock-off's ever. He also snarls like a cat when he fights.

Related: Harley Quinn Claims Deadshot's Power in DC's Suicide Squad

Apart from the main four team members, Bane and an immortal banshee named Jeannette round out the team for the rest of the series. While Jeannette is simultaneously a frightening and charming character with a unique backstory, Simone's take on Bane is one of the best. Secret Six sees Bruce Wayne's greatest foe trying to turn a new leaf. He's kicked his steroid habit and is acting with utter honor, Bane also immediately tries to be an upstanding father figure to any distressed young woman he sees, resulting in a hilarious running gag throughout the series.

Secret Six is a mature book in every sense of the word. It's packed to the brim with sex and violence, to the point where it's absolutely incredible that DC allowed some of the stuff in the book to happen. Catman bites a man's face off, there's a sex scene between Mad Hatter and one of his hats, and almost everything that comes out of Ragdoll's mouth is jaw-droppingly obscene. But apart from all the blood, and bad words that usually get things pulled off TV, Secret Six features intricate character development and some very grown-up storylines. They find themselves rescuing a group of enslaved Amazons (after they're hired to guard the prison of course). Catman's infant son is kidnapped by a group of psychotic criminals, leading him onto a bloodthirsty rampage. Scandal grapples with the death of her girlfriend for a large part of the series. Then of course there's that trip to hell.

Related: Batman: Bane Just Returned in the Last Way Fans Expected

"The Secret Six goes to Hell" may sound like the title of a schlocky horror movie, but it reads like something far different. Each character comics to the realization that they're damned no matter what. While Deadshot and Ragdoll aren't particularly shocked about their own fates, it's a surprise for the rest of the team. For Bane in particular, it's heartbreaking. The series had served as a moving redemption story for the Man Who Broke the Bat, discovering that he won't truly change is a pretty haunting conclusion. However, he's since proven to be pretty irredeemable.

While there are lot's of very dark moments in Secret Six, the tone of the book is never dreary or bleak. A slice-of-life feeling is prevalent in the series that is absent from the bombastic, multiverse shattering world of superhero comics. It's not uncommon to see members of the Six eating dinner together or chilling out in a hot tub. One issue sees Catman pick up a tub of ice cream for a depressed Scandal Savage. Deadshot and Jeanette end up in a fairly healthy and supportive relationship together. And speaking of romance, the other members of the team set Bane up on a date and it's as hilarious as it sounds. Refreshing little asides like this differentiate the book even further from standard superhero fare.

Related: The Real Reason DC's CATMAN Has Basically Disappeared

There will never be another team like the Six. No other series from the Big Two will ever be packed with this much humor, tragedy, and outright weirdness. Where else can you see a joke like Catman transform into a compelling character or Vandal Savage get stabbed in the neck with some chopsticks by his own daughter? Where else can you see Bane try to make his team-mates go on a diet or Deadshot get in a Western style duel with Deathstroke? And on that note, there's even a one-off issue that sees an Old West version of the team, and it's awesome too. Gail Simone created one of the  ultimate villain comic book teams. A unique series about a group of terrible people who love each other taking down worse people that don't. The Secret Six is one of the funniest and most badass teams in all of comics, and they don't need to be implanted with bombs in their necks to do it either.

Next: Suicide Squad Could Be Adding The Perfect Batman Villain

  DC Has Another, Better, Suicide Squad | Screen Rant from https://ift.tt/3rtwB2V

[broken-clover]

Because I am an idiot who has no self control allow me to introduce you to yet another GG AU.

I got hooked on Actor!AU’s so here, an au where everything is pretty okay

Sol- Believe it or not, those muscles are 100% real, but that’s pretty much the only character-accurate part about him. He’s a massive softie off-screen and has a habit of stopping halfway through fight scenes because he’s afraid he accidentally hit someone for real and injured them. He especially adores younger fans and loves doing autographs or photos with them.

Ky- He’s been in acting for a bit of time doing small characters, but this is his first big role and he’s constantly afraid of fucking it up. Thankfully his constant stressing out over it is very in-character. He went all-in for it, taking swordsmanship lessons in order to make the fights more realistic.

Sin- A college student who basically got the role on a joke after ditching class to audition. He likes the idea of being a ‘cool big brother’ to his younger crewmates and is prone to swiping them and piling everyone in his shitty beat-up car for ice cream runs between scenes. He’s still not completely used to the lack of depth perception the eyepatch gives him, so he has a habit of bumping into the sets.

Elphelt- Child actor who’s finally moved onto bigger productions. A very frequent victim of the paparazzi, who seem to believe the young starlet has some sort of secret racy pastime or double life. Somehow, she’s still got a squeaky-clean record and seems genuinely very sweet. Uses social media to interact with her fans, offering sneak-peeks and backstage glimpses and occasionally posts impersonal interviews with some of her castmates.

Faust- Yes, he is actually that tall, and the oddity of his appearance is the main reason why he ended up in acting. But a lot of his more dynamic scenes either use CGI or a stunt double on stilts because his extreme height means he has circulation problems and issues with his joints. He has a bit of a grumpy streak when his joint pain flares up but otherwise he’s a pretty affable guy and uses his fame to act as a charity spokesman, mostly for children with disabilities

Venom- Incredibly outspoken and a real chatterbox, he constantly has to be reminded to rein it in during scenes to try and seem more ‘cool.’ The hair is fake, no matter how hard they tried it was impossible to get the symbol to work with his real hair. Off set, he’s happily married and has adopted three kids with his husband. The gay subtext for his character is something he keeps ad-libbing and slipping in.

Millia- A world-class ballet dancer who got into acting, she does all her own stunts and refuses to use any doubles or CGI enhancements except for on Angra. She has a pretty severe fur allergy, so even though Millia loves cats they can’t have them on set for long or else she’ll start breaking out.

Zato- A veteran actor mostly known for his heroic characters or bad-boy antiheroes, they weren’t sure if he would work as a villain but he’s getting an absolute kick out of it. He’s actually blind in real life (though he doesn’t wear the blindfold around), and has named his most recent seeing-eye dog Eddie because he’s a massive dork.

Zappa- got hired mainly on the fact that he’s a ridiculously good contortionist and that helped with a lot of the ‘possession’ scenes, though the wardrobe department had a hell of a time finding something that worked with all the weird poses he had to make. He’s a bit of a prankster about it too, always scuttling around backwards on all fours on set to freak people out.

Bedman- The youngest actor on-set, and right now he’s still in middle school. He spends a lot of time around the other younger actors and admires them a lot. Kind of an anxious mess, but he’s just figuring things out with time. The bed mecha is mostly practical effects, but he’s always slightly afraid that it’s going to collapse or fall over when he’s on it. 

Baiken- They primarily did stunt-double work for samurai movies/period pieces until taking on this role, and their popularity skyrocketed because of it. They really have no idea where it came from, but not like they’re really complaining. While they may come off as cold and prickly as their character, it’s mostly because they’re a non-native speaker and have trouble communicating with a lot of the cast.

[gascon-en-exil]

Joining the Game Late: S3E3 “Walk of Punishment”

Synopsis

Edmure Tully’s aim sucks, as does his strategy. Significant seating arrangements at the Small Council, and Tyrion gets a promotion he doesn’t really want. That is the only inn in Westeros! Hot Pie’s artisan bread shaping needs some work. Catelyn has yet another tragic monologue. Westeros’s ice zombies are all angsty art majors. To no one’s surprise, Craster is also a cult leader. Theon escapes but fails at it because of course he does; good thing he has help(?). Melisandre has yet another cryptic plan. Dany has two advisors, a burst of idealism, and a yes-woman after a bit of bartering. Who else forgot about Cersei apprehending Ros? Tyrion rewards his squire with sex and contortions, but it’s on the house because he’s a legend in the sack. Jaime talks his way out of Brienne getting raped, then talks his way into losing a hand.

Commentary

...and then it cuts from Jaime’s screams to an indie rock ballad over the closing credits. Memorable, yes; so tonally bizarre it defies description, also yes.

That said, the strangest thing about this episode might be the way it approaches sex. Craster and his harem of daughter-wives make a reappearance, and now he’s a cult leader and comparing them to pregnant sows. There are two attempted rape scenes almost back-to-back; first with Theon facing a Deliverance-esque scenario after his failed escape attempt until his mysterious rescuer comes to save him, and then with Brienne dragged off into the woods to be gang-raped until Jaime convinces their captor to change his mind. Lastly there’s the erotic exploits of Tyrion’s squire Podrick, who despite his virginity manages to be so indescribably amazing a lover that the three prostitutes Tyrion hires for him (one of them a contortionist) refuse to take his money and leaves Tyrion and Bronn clamoring for details. There’s no through line to any of this that I can see, but one could consider this diverse approach to sexual content an improvement over that of earlier episodes where the majority of it was just pure fanservice (and, okay, the Podrick scene at the brothel is also that, but Tyrion’s running commentary and Pod’s bewilderment turn it into comedy as well). Perhaps the most insightful moment to be taken from these events is when Jaime advises Brienne on what to do when they make camp and she’s inevitably raped. He tells her to let them have their way lest they kill her, but admits after prompting that if he were a woman he’d rather die than submit. I find myself doubting that, especially with how much Jaime loves to talk his way through everything.

We’re properly introduced to the Tullies (Tullys?) of Riverrun, offering us an extended familial backdrop for Catelyn and Robb and a bit more context for whatever the point of their plotline is at the moment as it inches toward the Red Wedding. Edmure and Blackfish get great non-verbal introductions at the funeral of Cat’s father that set up their bickering over tactics in the following scene, and while not much else comes of this setup yet it’ll be good to keep in mind as the season goes on and Robb presumably has to keep fighting his war against the Lannisters on an unseen front. The Lannisters themselves have one strong, mostly non-verbal moment during Tywin’s Small Council, where Cersei forcibly positions herself at the right hand of her father and Tyrion responds by sitting across from him on the far side of the table. That this moments drags on for a good minute with all the chair rearranging as the other councilors look on underscores how strained and awkward this family is with one another. It’s all for the best however, because Tyrion is Master of Coin now that Littlefinger is off to marry Lysa Arryn for political reasons. Too bad that Tyrion’s #1 henchman needs to have basic economics explained to him, by someone who by his own admission doesn’t know much about money except how to spend it.

Daenerys’s story meanwhile continues apace, with an opportunity for her to express sympathy for the plight of the enslaved outside a military context along the titular walk. Her offer of water to one of the crucified slaves as well as her conversation with the translator Missandei whom she barters away from her master reestablish her hatred of the practice lightly set up back in Season 1, but it also allows Barristan Selmy to slot himself into their group dynamic. Barristan plays the knightly old loyalist to Jorah’s grim pragmatist, a philosophical tug of war that Fire Emblem uses on occasion (ex. Thracia 776′s Dorias and Augustus, Path of Radiance’s Titania and Soren) to expound upon the two-sided dilemmas that the protagonists find themselves facing. Here, Jorah wants Dany to buy the Unsullied, citing in their favor their rigorous training that will prevent them from raping and killing innocents during Dany’s conquest. Barristan’s counterargument is that Dany was wrong to barter away one of her dragons for the Unsullied, citing that dragons were were far more effective in the previous Targaryen conquest than any army of men. This would seem an unusual stance to align with traditional knightly values, but Barristan pairs it with his considerable admiration for Dany’s brother Rhaegar whom he fought under during Robert’s rebellion. As in one of the FE examples listed above, the side of knighthood might have the, er, honor (well, he’s anti-slavery at least), but they’re also the side that historically speaking ends up dead. That’s a sentiment GoT would probably agree with on the whole.

[the-jacobs-archive]

Diary Entry: 2

Sooooo, it's has come to my attention I probably won't be able to keep up with this journal daily. Everything is already so overwhelming (in a good way!!)

  To start things off I nearly arrived late getting to Maddison square gardens!!!

It's so easy to get distracted walking around the city. No matter how much I've traveled, I always just want to wander. Looking at things is just a favorite pass time of mine. So, long story short. I was almost late. Emphasis on almost, because I was right on time. To the minute! But Schlatt wasn't as relieved as I was. He's totally a "arrive 10 minutes early" type of guy. Considering everyone else was already waiting around in the hotel lobby by the time I got there and that he was scowling at me and any other “late arrivals”.

Schlatt is definitely... well... Oh Dang.

My first impression of J. Schlatt is that he just seems like a harsh guy, if you will... I will say he is funny and even charming(?) in an odd way. I can see how he could command the attention of an audience.

He did a speech before sending everyone off to unpack. He spoke confidently and I would even say that everyone seemed scared (or at least nervous) to interrupt. But people still cheered and appeared excited. So maybe his domineering vibes are just a fun quirk of his. 

The whole atmosphere was loud and buzzing with conversation. I still saw no real signs of the infamous co-owner Quackity. He was probably doing more behind the scenes stuff? Like inventory, or something? I don’t know. There must be a whole lot of work to do, two people have to be running this gig for a reason.

  This deduction did nothing to make me any less nervous to approach Schlatt. Infact, hearing him speak to everyone in person made me even more nervous to approach him. I still did. Of course.

I try not to worry too much. Worrying leads to overthinking, and well. It’s just that nothing works out when you over think it. okay?

It doesn’t matter cause this way of life worked in my favor. It always does.

Schlatt didn't say much to me. Just seemed confused, like he forgot he hired me, before passing me off to some guy named Charlie.

Charlie, or Slimecicle, as he goes by on stage, is a contortionist and an absolute delight of a man to speak to. He’s a very... odd person, but who isn’t a little quirky? literally no one?

Well, okay, not everyone mentions that they are definitely a human every other sentence, but I guess he's just really in character. I can respect that. So, the first photo I took on tour was of him bending his arms up behind into two diamonds.

I need to make it very clear; it was absolutely terrible to look at. Yes, I was kind of jealous. Imagine cracking your spine by just bending in half. I would never suffer from back pain again.

...

Back to my day. Charlie took me to Paramount Theater. The circus equipment had just began getting put up, so Charlie showed me around while it was empty aside from people unloading and setting up.

It was absolutely beautiful. I took a few photos of the construction. I'm sure at least a few came out decent. I can always do some editing later.

After that I grabbed some food and headed back to the hotel.

Aside from Charlie, and Schlatt, I hadn't really talked to that many other people. Alot of folks took to exploring the city while they still had the opportunity. Not that I'm complaining, but I really have no idea what to expect!

Luckily Charlie let me know who I was rooming with. Some guy named Sapnap, though the name means quite literally nothing to me. I did like zero research before getting here. oops.

That’s an L I will just have to take for now.

All I know is that he hasn’t come back to the room yet and I haven’t made any mortal enemies just yet, so meeting my roommate will go fine, I’m sure.

Anyways, till next time, diary my beloved <3

[crazyd4esq]

Pushy Monster V

Yeah, I'm gonna keep using this title and these tags, purely to piss off that "let sleeping dogs lie" rando in case they're still lurking about.

Other than that, uhhh . . . nothing. I haven't had any more nightmares or any other messages (anon or otherwise) warning me that I'm tempting a terrible curse or something. I'm still getting crap sleep though, so for all I know I'm still having them and just not remembering them. Given my general luck, that's certainly possible.

Anyway, my co-worker is an asshole.

Yeah, this is the one that keeps staring at me like he wants to skin me alive and wear my bloody, dripping pelt (for purely nonsexual reasons). He's been getting passive aggressive because sometimes I [whatever you call it when you move your foot or whatever to help you focus when you have ADHD . . . my knee-jerk reaction is to say stimming, but I don't think that's it and I don't want to appropriate a term], and when I do sometimes it nudges the cubical wall that separates my workspace from his infantile nest of sexually abusing bags of chips where the only way to put them down is to spike the damn thing like a football. On the bright side I'm catching up on all the horrorbabble audios I've been meaning to give a listen, though that doesn't cancel out him "accidentally" slamming his stainless steel fluid of perversion container against the cubical wall.

I'm sorry if this entry is coming off as sex negative, but the sounds that gurgle and slide over the divider suggest somebody getting far too intimate with various inanimate objects.

It actually reached the point where I got a few bruises here and there and went home sore because he kept jostling the table into me and I had to flop myself down like a drunk contortionist or fish on a boat's deck to avoid getting a table slammed into my arms or stomach anymore. Fun times. Also did I mention that I'm a lawyer and he's a lawyer and we've been hired by this law firm in our capacity as lawyers to do law? Some people never grow up, I guess.

Although I admit that some of these bruises (well, a decent number) couldn't be his doing. The ones on my hips, for example; there's no way anything that happens or happened at the law firm could've caused those. Same with a lot of the bruises on my sides. Not sure where they came from, actually. They seem to almost line up, though, and I mean weird orderly. Though I could just be imagining it in my sleep-deprived state. I mean, it's not like I'm gonna take a pen and a yardstick to find out!

Only weird thing of note is when I opened my front door tonight a massive house centipede scurried out towards me. And I mean it was MASSIVE, definitely at least 2-3 inches long . . . which is massive for a house centipede. When they get that big they sting like a wasp, supposedly. I didn’t see where it went, though, by which I mean it scurried under me and when I lifted my leg to get out of its way and look around for it it was just gone. And I checked the front porch with my flashlight app after that pretty thoroughly. Oh well.

Anyway, I need to go try to get some sleep.

[eirianerisdar]

Tell us about the time padawan obi wan became a celebrity on a planet

*cracks knuckles* Thisfits loosely into Star Wars canon timeline, because I couldn’t resist. Vaguely satirical regarding the extreme in any fandom.

This can also be read as a prequel to The Inter-System Kenobae Fanclub.

Caughtin the Limelight

In about twenty years’time, when Obi-Wan is a High Jedi General and well-used to seeing his faceplastered over war reels from Dantooine to Coruscant, he might look back onthis particular misadventure with something like fond nostalgia.

At present,seventeen-year-old Obi-Wan Kenobi feels nothing except a sort of horrifiedsurprise. And no little embarrassment.

“You are quite sure theseare all for me?” he directs at the Twi’lek foreman that waits patiently outsidethe door to the diplomatic suite.

“Yes, Master Jedi,” theforeman says, with a completely businesslike air, despite  being surroundedwith a mountain of florid, glittery packaging. “I am told these are fromyour most dedicated fans.”

“Fa-” Obi-Wan cuts himselfoff, his usually eloquent voice cracking under the weight of his disbelief.

“If you could sign here?”The foreman extends a dirty stylus and an equally grimy sheet of flimsy, whichObi-Wan signs, mechanically.

“And also this?” the foreman says as proffers another sheet of much cleaner flimsy.

Obi-Wan is surprised, but signs the blank sheet of paper bemusedly.

The foreman carefully folds the piece of paper and sticks it into a bulging pocket. “My daughter will appreciate this,” he says, winking.

Then he is gone,leaving a completely flabbergasted Jedi apprentice standing framed by mountainsof glittered boxes.

Footsteps sound in thesuite behind Obi-Wan.

A pause.

The Force floodswith mischief.

Obi-Wan fights the urge tobring a hand to his eyes.

“It would seem your timelyactions in saving the young countess-in-waiting did not go unnoticed by thegeneral populace, my young padawan,” Qui-Gon comments, laughter hovering at theedge of his voice.

“She was certainly vocalenough in expressing her gratitude,” Obi-Wan growls, as he calls the first ofmany packages towards him with the Force. Blast frivolous use of theForce. There are too many.

“Indeed,” Qui-Gon hums,extending an hand to help. “She tried to kiss you.”

“Emphasis on tried.”

“You have nonetheless wonher affections.” Qui-Gon’s sleeve slips over his bandaged hand as he stoops toglance at a box painted a particularly ghastly shade of mauve. “And as itwas unfortunate enough that your heroic rescue was completed live on theholonet, it seems many of the unattached young women on this planet are nowenamoured with you, too.”

Obi-Wan nudges thelast box into the suite with one foot. “How fortunate.” His voiceis drier than Jedha air.

His master chooses thismoment to turn on the state-of-the-art holo display in their ambassadorialsuite, which promptly opens into a news report detailing the many supposedexploits of Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi hero.

“If you’vejust started watching, we have with us the president of the newly formedObae-Wan fanclub-”

Obi-wan turns towards thedoor abruptly. “I’m going to take a walk.”

“That might not be such agood idea,” Qui-Gon says, lightly.

“I’mtaking a walk,” Obi-Wan repeats,forcefully.

Qui-Gon waves his padawanoff with a smile tugging at his beard.

The streets are pleasantlycrowded, on a sunny market day such as this; full of affable people about theirbusiness, and a hundred different languages from every corner of the galaxy.Another reasonably affluent spaceport on a reasonably affluent inner rimplanet, with reasonably affluent countesses and countesses-in-waiting, too.

And reasonably affectionate, so it would seem.

Obi-Wan tugs the hood ofhis cloak and cuts through the throng with as efficient a path as possible,making for the outer edge of the port, and the woodland there.

But soon the Force startstingling at the nape of his neck, and he becomes slowly aware of a syncopated echo of steps behind his own, like off-beat puppetry.

He is being followed.

Obi-Wan’s sword-hand begins to drift towards the lightsaber on his belt, but he stops himself before the motion becomes noticeable.

This is of no consequence. He has been trained for this.

He breathes in the Force with his next breath - cool, unburdened air, scented with the myriad colours and tastes of the market square - and flares it around him in a wave of intangible stardust.

This Force-borne stardust collects on no fewer than eight weak life-presences behind him.

Obi-Wan almost stiffens.

Eight.

Eight is not impossible. Simply…more of a challenge.

His comm bleeps softly on his belt as he casually hooks a finger around it and flicks open the channel to his master’s frequency, his thumb muting the volume setting as he does so.

Obi-Wan’s fingers rise and fall on the comm in a syncopated beat; to the average passerby, he is simply tapping out a tuneless melody on his hip. Only the most observant might notice that the soft clicking of his fingers against the hard synth-steel of the comm surface follow distinct, coded patterns.

Being followed. Eight. Objective unclear. Backup.

He repeats the sequence twice more and then keeps the comm open, to better aid Qui-Gon in finding him.

The Force whispers of opportunity, four paces ahead.

Obi-Wan quickens his step as he reaches a corner, whirls around it into a cramped passage, and breaks into a run, vaulting the short durasteel-linked fence a few metres down the alley before pivoting to the left, leaping for the uneven edges of a squat, somewhat older building and scaling the rutted wall with fluid ease.

Once on the rooftop - barely twenty seconds after he first quickened his pace - he flattens himself on the ceramplast slates and quietens his breathing.

Muffled voices sound from below.

“Where’s he gone?” someone says, confusedly - a girl, Obi-Wan supposes, by the high soprano.

Another voice, adolescent male: “He can’t have just disappeared!” Then: “Do you think he can fly? That would be blasted wizard.”

A cacophony, now, with enough pitches and tones to suggest the group is multi-species, and all very determined to be heard.

“Jedi can’t fly, bantha-brains.”

“He must’ve climbed something.”

Obi-Wan frowns. These do not seem anything like the usual bounty hunters or blasters-for-hire, even; far too unprofessional.

“D’you think we could go after him?”

“Well, it’s your neck-”

“Blast it, I wanted his autograph!”

Wait.

Obi-Wan blinks, staring at the dark ceramplast inches from his face.

What?

In his utter bemusement, he misses the next few words completely, and as such only catches half of the next exclamation from the group below.

“-even got the ‘net-press holo of when he caught the countess-in-waiting printed on Aurek-grade flimsy for this!”

“Hutt-slime, Jaloisa, you’re dedicated.”

“The word might be a little outdated, Kerde, but that Obi-Wan Kenobi is ridiculously dreamy.”

Obi-Wan’s cheek, pressed to the dirty rooftop, flushes with warmth. His hood is suddenly too hot to keep raised; he edges it back, carefully, with one finger.

There is a shriek from above him.

He twists himself up and onto his feet it in a flash of movement that would have made a contortionist proud.

The building opposite is somewhat taller than the one he is on; and there, directly facing him, is an open window-

-with a hyperventilating Dresselian girl staring at him from within it. Her hands are clenched on the windowsill. She cannot be more than thirteen.

“Are you…are you well?” Obi-Wan ventures, as the group below breaks into delighted screams at his appearance.

The girl begins to sob, even as she smiles. Her eyes never leave his face. But her Force-signature, though weak like all non-Force-sensitives, is undeniably happy.

Completely. Incomprehensible.

Faced with this new horror, Obi-Wan decides to make a run for it.

His boots clatter across the rooftop as he turns on the spot and scrambles for the opposite side of the building. He does not bother with handholds this time; he simply allows himself to drop, the Force cushioning his landing.

It is only after he has rolled to his feet with a silken whoosh of air under his cloak that he realises his mistake.

He is back in the square, having made the most conspicuous entry possible.

And his hood is down.

Recognition dawns in the first of the many faces turned in his direction.

Obi-Wan pivots and hurls himself the other way-

-and he finds himself faced with eight eager faces.

Caught between a riptide and a cliff, the young Jedi resigns subtlety to the endless unknowns of uncharted space, throws himself into a high corkscrew over their heads, and hits the ground running.

Back over the fence, durasteel links ringing with the echo of both his speed and the screams that pursue him; boot-heels a frenzied rhythm on sun-split cobblestones; the roar of the Force screaming danger in his ears, so loud that the whip of his braid at his cheekbones does nothing to cease his flight.

He nearly collides with a wall of cream and brown.

Obi-Wan jerks back and makes to run again, but a large hand clamps down on the back of his cloak and jerks him sideways, into a rubbish-collection box on the side of the road.

In the stink and the dim light, Obi-Wan registers that the wall had not been a wall at all, but Jedi tabards and cloak.

Oh.

Qui-Gon looks wordlessly at down him, lips clenched tight against the foul air, and hands him his rebreather.

They wait, Obi-Wan’s breath loud and harsh through the vents of his rebreather, and Qui-Gon’s silent through his own.

Pounding footsteps pass by, trailing a train of wistful sorrow and delirious joy like a glitterstim-soaked cloak.

And still the Jedi wait, in the sweltering heat.

Eventually, Qui-Gon cocks his head to the side, and after a moment, pushes open the side of the box.

Obi-Wan staggers out, pulls his rebreather from his lips, and gags into the gutter. The rotten stench clings to him from the tips of his spiked hair to his boot-heels.

Qui-Gon makes to speak, closes his eyes for a moment, swallows, and then tries again.

“Padawan.”

Obi-Wan notes, vaguely, that there is mulch in Qui-Gon’s hair.

“Yes, Master,” he gasps.

“Padawan,” Qui-Gon repeats, something edging his voice now.

“Yes, Master,” Obi-Wan coughs, squinting up at him.

They stare at each others’ slime-streaked faces.

The beginnings of a grin form on Qui-Gon’s face. It is terribly infectious.

They do not stop chortling until they reach their diplomatic quarters again, even as they slip through the alleys and creep along the rooftops to avoid the crowds below.

“Not a single word to the Council, I should think, Obi-Wan.”

“For once, master, we are in agreement.”

END

And that, anon, was much longer than I thought it would be - though as I mentioned above, I did love writing it as a sort of prequel to The Inter-System Kenobae Fanclub - that was one story of mine that I wrote for complete crack and yet became unexpectedly popular. Thanks for the prompt!

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[coolestkermanuknow]

Rant

So I get that what Matt said in one of his tweets was taken wrong by a lot of people but attacking him for it(before and AFTER he apologised) is horrible and then to attack Kat and now (from what I'm gathering) Dom too? We all know Matt has a weird (but awesome) sense of humor and when I read the tweet I thought nothing of it (but I can see how, to someone else, it was offensive) but if you think for one second that sweet man did that purposefully then you obviously haven't been paying attention to him and if you think Kat thought of it as a r*pe joke too and retweeted it for that reason then again you haven't been paying attention. I took Doms tweet for what it was, he was saying it was a cool scene because of the contortionist they hired to play the demon. I agree. Not a single one of them should be attacked for what they said but they all apologized and it should be done and over with but no people have to continue to beat them up about it and put words into their tweets that weren't there. Some people were very nice and just pointed out how it was taken by some (which is how you should do it) but a lot of people are attacking them and it's not right. They are only human and humans make mistakes. How many times have you said something that was taken out of context or sounded funnier in your head before you spoke the words? They are amazing people and actors but most of all they are HUMAN. Cut them some slack. We all make mistakes. It's what you learn from your mistakes and how you apply it that matters in the end. How would you feel if something you said was taken the wrong way and then you were attacked for it (even after you clarified and apologized)? Would you ever feel safe to tweet anything you thought was funny after that? Or would you constantly worry that some thing else you said would be taken the wrong way? I'm not saying that the people who were offended have no right to be...I'm saying he said he didn't mean it that way, didn't even think of it that way, and apologized...it should be dead and buried now but it's not and that's just ridiculous.

[javblanc-blog]

SUPERANTIHERO’S VINDICATION

Let's admit some criticism of Squattedman. That his flight is not a paragon of elegance like that of eagles or seagulls? That he goes naked and that circumstance is not very decorous? That his propulsion mode is unsatisfactory? That this kind of thing discourages New Yorkers from boasting of a superhero? That when he catches thieves he often keeps the loot to deliver it to the poor? That he is not the most graceful man in the world, nor is he the most cultured or the most intelligent? Why deny it? ... Any other objection? No? That is to say there are no criticisms as to its effectiveness in combating crime? Well ladies and gentlemen, what more do you want?! Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth! And speaking of efficiency, I'm going to tell you one of Squattedman’s greatest feats. Nothing less than the salvage of the Brooklyn Bridge.

In 1910, Vaudeville Houses abounded in New York City. For a reasonable price you could attend an entertaining and varied show consisting of twelve or more performances of about ten minutes each. There were comedy numbers, musical performances, tightrope walkers, contortionists, ventriloquists, illusionists ... and even a guy named Matt Freigisman capable of causing a fire and extinguish it instantly. You will understand that the competition between professionals of the same specialty was brutal. Main theaters only hired the best. And to be the best, you had to constantly innovate and get publicity by whatever means. Well, there was an illusionist called The Great Salam or Salam the Great or something similar. This guy was specialized in a novelty at that time: the “disappearance trick”. By the simple procedure of covering it with a cloth, he could make disappear anything that was put on the stage, from a coat stand to a spectator of the first row of seats. (In fact there was a long list of missing persons for this cause, a list that the police kept secret so that the alarm did not spread and so that the Great Salami did not stop paying the corresponding bribe.)

Well, it seems that Salami the Great had decided that his career towards stardom needed a boost. And he couldn't think of anything other than to make one of the two towers that support the Brooklyn Bridge disappear. With this purpose, he commissioned the preparation of a gigantic canvas capable of covering the entire tower. He had hyped the event through the New York press, and the scheduled day there were thousands of journalists and photographers waiting at the foot of the chosen tower, which was the one on the side of Manhattan.

Thanks to some archers and some arrows tied to one of the ends of the canvas, it was possible to completely cover the tower and, in passing and by pure chance, execute Bloody Dolan, one of the most wanted hitmen in the state, who didn't want to miss the show and ended up pierced by one of the arrows. Battery Park was brimming with curious people. Of course, nobody believed that the tower would really disappear. They thought it would be an optical effect or something similar. Well, they were wrong. No one knows how he did it, but Salim the Great Rascal made the tower disappear, literally. Of course, being deprived of one of the two pillars that supported it, the bridge began to tilt dangerously. Fortunately, Squattedman was in Battery Park among the curious people who witnessed the show. He undressed, made a ball with himself and instantly was off like a shot towards the end of the bridge that was about to collapse. He arrived just in time to prevent it. He stood under the bridge and held it on his back. However, he had to keep clenched his muscles continuously so that his super-strength did not decay, which forced the authorities to mobilize the army urgently to build in a few hours a structure made of steel framework to replace the missing tower.

Everything ended well, but it could have happened a tremendous tragedy had it not been for Squattedman’s quick reflexes and super-strength. As for the illusionist, he was arrested and sentenced to fifteen years of forced labor or eight years of voluntary labor, letting it of his choice. But the rogue chose to escape making himself disappear.

And finally, one piece of advice: when someone, no matter who it is, even if it's an illusionist on stage, wants to make you disappear, call the police immediately!

This is a non-profit blog whose purpose is to raise funds for children in need. So if you want to make a donation in exchange for this story, click on this link to UNICEF. I really appreciate it!

[whereinchelsea]

Made in Chelsea - Series 14 Episode 9

Interactive Map

1. Blok London, 38-40 Upper Clapton Road - Digby trains with Jamie and Mytton. Jamie learns that Frankie is seeing James, and he fronts as though Frankie won't make an effort to move from him. Alex convinces Jamie to get out with a new girl to get over Frankie.

2. Neville Salon, 5 Pont Street - Frankie and Habbs have their tresses styled with Liv looking on. Frankie's going on a run with James.

3. The Gore Hotel, 190 Queen’s Gate - Sophie auditions a contortionist for her circus themed party. Francis volunteers his services as a juggler, and Fred turns up to look pretty.

4. Heartcore Fitness, 27A Queen’s Terrace - Louise, Ryan, Sam, and Harry do reformer pilates. Harry begs to get the lowdown on the recent Alik drama. Louise is determined to get a tattoo symbolising her relationship with Ryan.

5.  Courtfield Gardens - James takes Frankie on a wine run. No, not to the  liquor store. The producers planted a strategic picnic basket backed with vino and glassware for Frankie and James to slake their thirst after a light jog around the garden. James compliments Frankie for her confidence.

6. Flora Indica, 242 Old Brompton Road - Louise and Sam go for tea with Frankie, Liv, and Harry. Louise is grilled on her intent to tattoo. Frankie learns that Jamie's going on a blind date.

7. Beach Blanket Babylon, 42 Ledbury Road - Mytton asks Habbs to bring two friends for a blind date with Jamie and Sam. One girl bails, but Clemmie is pleased to be paired up with Jamie. Clemmie looks like she came off the same assembly line as Fran Newman-Young, if you recall series' past. For some reason, Frankie hoofs it to Nottinghill to be picked up by James and his Uber driver just as Jamie walks out of the restaurant on his way to a bar with his dinner party.

8. Broadway House, 474-476 Fulham Road - Jamie, Mytton, and Ryan meet for bloody mary's., bemoaning their age. Jamie plots to snapchat a date with Clemmie to get back at Frankie for snapchatting her date with James.

9. Boutique Spa, 19 Newman Street - Clementine and Habbs debrief after the date whilst letting the fresh manis dry. Jamie phones up Clemmie inviting her on another date.

10. Six Storey’s, 11 Soho Square - Francis prepares to shoot an apple off the top of Fred's head. Fortunately, Sophie turns up to put a stop to the produced nonsense. The throwing knives get a hard pass from the blonde bombshells. Fred agrees to be Sophie's second mode of conveyance along with burly Ryan.

11.  Ushuaia Tattoo, 486 Fulham Road - Sam brings Louise to a tattoo shop to pressure her into getting Ryan's name permanently etched into her skin, but she perseveres in her resolve not to do something rash, just because he's gone and done it.

12. The Gable, 25 Moorgate - Frankie, Olivia, and Sam Prince go out for drinks and gossip. Frankie's keen on James, and Liv is wishing to DTR with Digby.

13. Greenwich Peninsula Golf Range, 265 Tunnel Ave - Jamie takes Clemmie for a golf gate, repeating his MO when first pursuing anyone on the show. Clemmie assents to accompany Jamie to Sophie's party.

14. The London Cabaret Club, Victoria House, Bloomsbury Place - Sophie makes her grand entrance on the shoulders of Ryan and Fred. Louise quietly seethes to her boyfriend conveying another girl in such undress. Honestly, the producers aren't even trying to make this show authentic anymore, there's so much obvious drama being drummed up this series. After the fire dancer, Francis shows off a couple of kid's party magic tricks for the benefit of Sophie and Fred, and the viewers at home. Mytton agrees to stop DMing Habbs and takes her actual phone number. Digby and Olivia DTR and she leaves no trace of her ruby red lipstick behind when they kiss to make it official. Jamie approaches Frankie and James with Clemmie in tow to make things quite awkward. Frankie is pretty breezy about the whole situation, and reveals to the table that she and Jamie were shagging only three weeks prior. Louise lays down the law making sure Sophie knows Ryan will not be for hire again. Ryan isn't the least bit upset that Louise isn't going to get a tattoo for him. Jamie expresses his fury to see Frankie moving on with someone else, and steeps in his embarrassment for his behaviour at the party. James isn't sure if he wants to get invested with Frankie, due to her "baggage".