#yes i drew them as the simpsons

[certified-muppet-enjoyer]

doodlezz :3

[literaticat]

Hi! If your client has a bunch of MG books that stand alone but can be considered in the same vein, would you pitch it as having series potential? At what point would you mention the other books?

"Series" can mean different things. But basically, sure, if it has series potential, I'd pitch it as such. And if they were interested, I'd show them a series proposal / pitches for other books in the series. At what point, depends on what kind of series we are talking.

EPISODIC SERIES. Usually following one hero or group of friends or whatever, all set in the same world, with the same general format/style for every book, but with a different issue every book. Each book can be read on its own in any order; the characters don't age much (or they do so very slowly!) These types of series could be literally endless. (Like Nancy Drew, or The Babysitters Club. Or on the TV side, Scooby Doo, the Simpsons, or Law & Order... any sitcom or "monster of the week" type show, really!)

These often ARE conceived as series from the jump, especially for chapter books, so they can all be branded as a series together from book 1. If that's the case, I'd go out with the first book and a series proposal (aka ideas for several further potential books), they might be sold in a multi-book deal. This happens ALWAYS with chapter books (I'd never go out with a totally stand-alone chapter book, publishers buy them in multi-book deals all the time) -- and sometimes but less often with MG books.

ANTHOLOGY SERIES. This is like an off-shoot of the Episodic style series. In this type, the series as a whole has a theme, and every book has the same kind of tone and length, but every book theoretically stands alone and is sometimes vaguely associated with the others, but doesn't have to be. Examples: Goosebumps - usually different kids/different monster in every book though sometimes popular ones make a reappearance, I'm lookin at you SLAPPY! I Survived - different disaster every book. On the TV side, Twilight Zone is a good example -- the only thing REALLY tying those stories together is the tone/style and narrator, each episode is its own thing.

This would likely be conceived as a series from the jump, as above, and if that's the case, again, I'd go out with the first book and the series proposal from the start.

PROGRESSIVE SERIES: Usually following one hero or group of friends or whatever, all set in the same world, and with different issues every book, BUT, there is a "Big Bad" or mystery or something that the overarching series is trying to solve, a story told the whole series long, time passes during the series, you DO sort of have to read them in order to get the full effect, and there is a conclusion. Like Harry Potter, or on the TV side, any "Limited Series" type show. White Lotus, say.

IF book one CAN stand alone -- like, the story of the book concludes, BUT there is obviously more story to be told / a larger thing happening -- I'd probably go out with it as a stand-alone but mention that there are more potential books, that it could be a series, and I'd have a series proposal that sketches that out, etc, and if they liked it they might want to know what future books would look like, so I'd show that to them at that point..

COMPANION BOOKS. These books completely stand alone, BUT they are set in the same world. So maybe each book is about different members of the same family, or a group of best friends -- each one has a story that is totally discrete, the series aren't numbered on the spine, you can read them in any order. (MANY MANY Romance novels are this way -- think Bridgerton, where each Bridgerton sibling gets their own book with their own romance, and yes, the other characters make cameos, but you don't need to have read their book to understand what is happening at all! On the kid's side, the Casson Family book by Hilary Mckay is an example.)

This, I'd likely go out with whatever book as a stand-alone, but mention in the pitch that there are ideas for other books set in the same world, each following a different sibling / friend / whatever. And if they were interested, talk to them about that or show them brief pitches of other potential stories. But this would probably sell as a stand-alone, and if it did well, they might add more books.

[chunkymamatam]

Hey hey! I just finished Sugar Apple Fairy Tale, because it was on my feed and now I'm obsessed <3

This has made me very curious about your dr, so I wanted to ask if you have any stories and who your favourite character is?

Also, where are you shifting to as of late? Personally, I've been obsessed with "Ranma (2024", so I'll be going there <3

-Reena

YES FINALLY

I hate Jonas so much I wanna strangle him like the Simpsons /hj Sugar Apple Fairy Tale is so underrated. I love Shoujo anime so much man.

Anyway, I do have stories but I was only there briefly so its not many. None of which are with the main cast lmfao. I own a lot of land and run a soap shop out of my home. My family there fucking died so I inherited their land and wealth. My property basically acts like a sanctuary for Fairies that have their wings back whether I gave it to them or they're on the run and it doesn't even look sus because everyone helps out for the most part. I accidentally birthed a few fairies /pf They're cute little strawberry babies and I love them. I drew them but I don't think I ever posted them.

Chyme was in such shitty shape.. God I'll never be over how fuck ass his hair was lmfao. Anyway These 5 are the most consistent on who stays in my home. The rest opt to stay in a few guest buildings I have on the property.

Bonnie is a sweet heart and so is Phanny. She's quiet and her voice is raspy. it's the cutest fucking thing I swear. They both prefer poofy ass frilly ass clothing. It's so precious I wanna scream. I would kill for them. They spend most of their time being nosy or running off and dancing together. Me and Chyme decided it was best to take them home with us when they first appeared because it was very dangerous and we didn't want them to get hurt. He suggested it but I think it was because he saw how worried I was lmfao

Marigold is a bit of an odd one to me. In a neutral way of course. I think she's still unsure of me which is fine and fair haha! She insists on working but I caught her staring at her wing and she looked so happy but she saw me and acted like I was gonna yell at her. I think they're just traumatized. Maybe one day they'll gather the courage to explore the world

Andrayus was born from an old tree. I don't know what creature gazed upon it. He's really quiet and a sweetheart. He helps with cooking and making the soaps. He's stronger than me so he can mix up bigger batches. He seems content. He still has both his wings too so I think he was just born when me and Chyme found him. He's pretty chill from what I can tell. High key bro looks like he gives good hugs. I should go back and ask for one.

Chyme, my beloved. He's a smartass, rough around the edges but he's caring. He's also really smart. He delegated himself my bodyguard. He still has moments where he thinks I might do something awful but I would never hold that against him. I was curious about Bonnie and Fru's wings so I asked to touch them. He panicked when I reached for them. I obviously stopped to make sure he was okay and to try and calm him down. I had to reassure him that I would never. He's actual as old as Lafall so that a LONG time of trauma. I have a lot of Chyme stories pfff

As for my Favorite character in the anime. It's actually really predictable lmfao It's Challe or Anne, Mythril Lid Pod is a close second.

I haven't been shifting anywhere recently unfortunately I tried to go to Bungo Stray Dogs last night though. I started watching That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime and I might try to go there too.

[noys-boise]

the Caroline in the city references in family guy truly fuck me up. buckle the fuck up because I'm going to Overanalyze

so in family guy season 1 episode 6 (YES THAT EARLY ON) there's a joke where peter griffin says he once pretended to be gay by watching Caroline in the city. it then actually cuts to him watching Caroline in the city (well like he was watching what seemed like a pretty accurate recreation of the vibes of the citc intro) and then. well that's it

but of course I'm too autistic to not think about this because i have MANY questions

1. legit where did the idea that watching citc is a gay thing come from. I'm not asking this in a "whoa joking about tv shows making you gay is problematic" way because I'm aware family guy is full of jokes like that and worse. I'm asking this legitimately. because on one hand i guess you could argue that having a female main character= unmasculine=gay but that brings me to my second question

2) out of all possible tv shows to do this joke with... why Caroline in the city. and I'll have more to say on this later but i will say if you look at the time period of this. this episode of family guy aired on may 9th, 1999. the last episode of Caroline in the city aired on April 26th, 1999. i don't know how long the production of a family guy episode is but I'm going to assume Caroline in the city was still running when they wrote this episode but it was very much towards the end. but here's the thing. i spend a lot of time analyzing the cultural impact of citc and I've come to the conclusion that it was kinda relevant during season 1 but not many people watched it by season 4 (which led to that torturous non ending from early cancellation) and i legitimately don't know why this is the show they chose. like if we're going for a gay thing, Will and Grace was already airing at this time, i think more people knew about that than Caroline in the city. and there was a Caroline in the city fandom online but from what I've seen it was veeery predominantly straight. THAT BEING SAID

3) every Caroline in the city fan i see lately including myself is queer. like he couldn't have known that unless he also has future vision but considering they say Simpsons predicted everything in the future the possibility that they got all that but family guy instead just predicted a gay Caroline in the city fandom is SO funny to me

4) but back on the topic, the only other explanation i have is that this is another one of those annoyingly tasteless digs at Malcolm Gets for allegedly not being able to play a straight character convincingly (untrue) but for it to be any of these we'd have to assume that Seth MacFarlane, the creator of family guy has actually seen enough of Caroline in the city to know these things which. surely can't be the case

or... can it?

3) this is not the last time Caroline in the city was referenced in a Seth MacFarlane show. okay this is the really insane part to me. in american dad there's an episode where the characters find a "secret ending" to Caroline in the city where Caroline kills everyone and takes over the city or whatever. it's dumb, it makes me uncomfortable and stuff but there's also two very important things to note about this:

a) they got Lea Thompson to voice Caroline for like one line in this episode. i legitimately want to know what that conversation sounded like. "hey Lea could you do just one line for this episode? it's basically your character from Caroline in the city turning evil and killing everyone she loves in a secret ending to the show, are you interested?" this one isn't related to any of my conspiracy theories the thought is just funny to me

b) more importantly they like. legitimately drew them. like it was recognizably Caroline, Richard, Annie and Del. and like they showed them for like two seconds. that's a lot of attention to detail for two seconds. and again this is not the first time there was a Caroline in the city reference in a Seth MacFarlane show but SURELY this is the last one right?

WRONG!!

4) THERE'S ANOTHER REFERENCE IN AMERICAN DAD! there's a character who says something about how you should respect your elders because they lived through 4 seasons of Caroline in the city whatever that is supposed to mean! that's the THIRD TIME!

5) let's return to my second point for a second. i think i skimmed over one of the most glarring logical issue with the original family guy joke. peter claimed he pretended to be gay by watching Caroline in the city, but in the cutaway gag, he is fully alone in his own living room, watching Caroline in the city. (side note, it is a really, really good recreation of the citc intro which adds to my Seth MacFarlane has seen some Caroline in the city theory because why else would he pay attention to this detail) but.... how is that pretending? who was he pretending to? did he memorize every plot point to later recount it to pretend to be a fan? at that point he's just straight up a fan isn't he? he could've just told people he watched Caroline in the city if he wanted to pretend to be gay! why did he even pretend to be gay that's never explained and it's so specific...

now that I mentioned it it's very specific and familiar.....

6) Caroline in the city season 1 episode 3 Caroline and the gay art show, Richard pretends to be gay to sell his art AND in season 3 episode 20 Caroline and the little white lies, Del and Charlie pretend to be gay for insurance reasons. coincidence? well probably but what if it's NOT? is Seth MacFarlane trying to tell us he's secretly a Caroline in the city fan?

7) let's look at it in a meta way. Seth MacFarlane is the voice of peter griffin. in a way they're one and the same, aren't they? peter griffin wasn't really pretending to be gay, because he was at home watching citc on his own as i already mentioned it. is it just a guilty pleasure for him? is Seth MacFarlane too ashamed to admit he enjoys Caroline in the city so he has to communicate it through jokes in his tv shows?

8) or there's the other interpretation that makes me sound like the gaylor truthers but hear me out. if Seth Rudesky thinks watching Caroline in the city makes you gay but he's also signalling that he probably watched at least some of it, is he just trying to come out to us?

i once thought about turning this into a youtube video essay but I'm not sure anyone would watch it. that being said, i might still do it, why not?

[howlingday]

The scene from the Simpson where Moe teaches a dancing self defense class, but it’s Jaune lecturing Cardin, Sun, Yang, and Ren as Ruby watches from the doorway.

"Self-defense Dance Classes?" Ruby Rose repeated, reading the classroom door sign.

She peered inside, finding Cardin Winchester, Sun Wukong, Neptune Vasilias, Yatsuhashi Daichi, and her older sister, Yang Xiao Long, seated across from a blackboard. Next to the desk, Lie Ren sat politely, clipboard in hand. Everyone else had pencil and paper, eager to learn.

"Everyone good?" The instructor, Jaune Arc, asked. He was wearing a black T-shirt and gray slacks. He sat halfway on his desk, arms folded. Jaune loved dancing, so she wasn't surprised to find him teaching a dance class. "Everyone here, Ren?"

"Present and accounted for, Professor Arc." A few students snickered at the name.

"Alright, let's pick up back where we left off last class." Jaune stood up, rounding the desk to the blackboard. "Who can tell me to five injuries that could result from a misstep?"

Yang raised her hand, which Jaune pointed to. "A fractured ass?" The students giggled.

"I see that story left an impression." He wrote on the board, 'tailbone'. "And yes, landing the wrong way on your ass can leave you not wanting to sit for weeks. How should you land if you fall?" Sun and Cardin raised their hands. "Cardin?"

"On your ass."

"Yeah, it should be your ass, but what part of your ass?" He pointed. "Sun?"

"On your ass CHEEKS." Sun specified. "The bigger the better!" The students chuckled, while Jaune drew two Cs.

"Yup, that's right." Jaune nodded. "But don't forget to diet and exercise. Make it big, if you want, but don't put your health at risk."

Ruby watched in awe of the classroom, and especially Jaune's teaching skills. She felt like she was learning a lot from this one class. Minutes flew by as she watched dances moves, safety, and spacial awareness were discussed.

"Okay, now for a demonstration." Jaune took a deep breath, closing his eyes. "Alright, here's the 4-1-1, folks; let's say some gangsta is dissin' your fly girl." Jaune opened his eyes. "Relax, stay calm, and give 'im one of these."

Ren clicked on the beatbox and funky music began playing. Jaune lept in the air, and began strutting in place, keeping his arms and legs moving, but close to his body. As fast as she blinked, his body writhed like a wet noodle, and he moved closer and closer to the students. Before he reached, he lept backwards, landing on his hands then back to his feet. Reaching back as if to flip again, Jaune pulled out a familiar musket, and fired three rounds into the air, startling the students, Ruby included.

"And that," Jaune panted, "is how you use different styles to blend into a funky distraction, before retrieving your weapon and saving your fine ass honey from a bad rep. Ya dig?"

The students clapped as Jaune wiped his brow. He smiled and made his way to the door. Ruby was caught by surprise and could only yelp as it came open. Jaune chuckled.

"Sorry, I was just-"

"No, no, it's fine, Ruby." Jaune waved off. "But it's a lot more fun in there than out here." He turned back to the class. "That's it for tonight. I'll be here next month, and remember that twerking, while arousing, is not an effective self-defense method."

As the students left, thanking Jaune for teaching them, they all traded ideas for different tactics and exercises to practice. Soon, Ruby was left alone with Jaune.

"I, uh, don't really think dancing is my thing. Especially if it's in front of people."

"I understand, but I think you could really benefit from it." Jaune smiled. "Maybe even toss in a few rifle shots, too.

"Really?" Ruby asked. "But how? Crescent Rose is pretty big. Way bigger than that musket."

"True," Jaune nodded, "but have you considered keeping low to the ground, and using it's weight as a counter balance?"

"Kind of." Ruby shrugged. "Where are you going with this?"

"Tell me, Ruby," Jaune placed a hand on her shoulder, "what do you know about breakdancing?"

[litcityblues]

Ask Chat GPT About This Movie, I Dare You

This movie had been on my 'to watch' list for a while but going in, I had no idea what to expect and by the end, I would happily say that this was the best movie that I have seen in a long, long time and it wasn't just interesting: it made some thought-provoking choices as well.

Set in 2065, ten years after an artificial intelligence detonated a nuclear warhead over Los Angeles, most of the world is at war with a collection of republics in Asia that have formed the country of New Asia. The United States and the West is intent on hunting down AI and eradicating it from the face of the globe (which struck me as almost too real but also exactly what the American response would be if AI did detonate a nuke over LA) and New Asia is resisting, still embracing AI.

The US Government is convinced that the key to ending this war is finding the mysterious Nirmata and at the beginning of the movie, US Army Sergeant Joshua Taylor (John David Washington) is undercover with his pregnant wife, Maya (Gemma Chan) who is believed to be the daughter of Nirmata. He is close to finding the truth when his superiors pull the plug, blowing his cover and sending in the North American Orbital Mobile Aerospace Command (NOMAD) to blow the place up and kill everyone. Maya is presumed dead in the aftermath and Taylor is exfiltrated.

Five years after that, Taylor is working with the ground zero clean-up crew (one of the most chilling and excellent moments is when a defunct AI comes back alive looking for the child it is supposed to be nannying- whose corpse is in the seat next to it) when he is approached by the military again- this time by Colonel Howell (Allison Janney) and General Andrews (Ralph Ineson) who has been tasked with tracking down a reported new weapon that could destroy NOMAD, the mysterious Alpha-O. They show Taylor evidence that Maya survived and he is all in for the mission.

Only when they find Alphie in a New Asia compound, it is revealed to be a young girl, who can control technology. Realizing the importance of this ability and being unable or unwilling to murder a child in cold blood, Taylor abandons Howell and goes to seek out his ex-commander, Drew. (Sturgill Simpson- yes, that Sturgill Simpson. I did a double-take as well.) An attack kills Drew's simulant girlfriend and leaves him fatally wounded and Taylor and Alphie are captured by New Asia forces led by Harun (Ken Watanabe) who is a former ally of Taylor's. He gets Taylor to Maya, who turns out to be Nirmata- Alphie is modeled after her unborn child. Maya has also been stranded-- since AI is unable to harm Nirmata (their creator), she has been on life-support and unable to die. Taylor removes her from life support.

Eventually, he and Alphie are captured again and escape to do what must be done: destroy NOMAD which changes the course of the war against AI forever.

Overall: This could have been very cringe, but turned out to be a really smart, fun science fiction movie. I loved the fact that it put America in a kind of weird, morally grey place because I think that we would absolutely start a war to eradicate AI if we thought one of them had nuked LA and I also think Americans would have a big problem being asked to murder a child in cold blood. So it's not afraid to pose interesting questions either... The cast was excellent-- I'm a big fan of Allison Janney from The West Wing and pretty much everything else she's ever been in and she was awesome in this role- really leaned into the 'bad guy' of it all-- providing another little morally grey moment where she downloads the memories of a fallen soldier/asset and gets accused of 'playing God'. I like a movie that makes you think in intelligent ways and this one fits the bill-- it kind of slots into that District 9 territory quite nicely. My Grade: **** out of ****

[lovemesomesurveys]

💻 Laptop Computer 💻 Do you own a laptop? Yes. That's what I'm on.

Are you on a laptop right now? Oh, haha. Yes, I am.

How many laptop computers have you owned in your lifetime? Oh less than 10, but pretty close, I think.

What color was your first laptop? Black.

What color is your current laptop? It's silver.

🖥 Desktop Computer 🖥 Do you own a desktop computer? Nope.

Do you prefer Windows computers or Mac computers? I'm a Mac gal.

What were your favorite computer games to play as a kid? What are your favorite computer games now? I don't remember all of them, but like Pajama Sam, something with a fish, Nancy Drew, some Barbie games, and the ones on like Nick and Disney's websites.

Which do you use more: a computer or a phone? 📱 My phone for sure. I mainly use my laptop for Tumblr to be honest and to do surveys. While I'm on doing those things I'll typically have side by side windows with YouTube on the other to watch simultaneously.

Are you good at remembering passwords for websites, or do you always forget? I write them all down to be safe, but typically I know the password.

What is your current computer desktop background? It's a beachy picture.

Do you have a desk job? No.

What were some of your favorite websites as a kid? What are some of your favorite websites now? I was really big on the AOL kid and teen forums and chatrooms as well as like I said the Disney and Nick websites.

Were you alive before the Internet was invented? No, it was around by then albeit not super big quite yet.

How many tabs do you have open on your computer right now? 5 on this window and 1 on the other.

⌨️ Computer Keyboard ⌨️ Are you a fast typer? I am. People comment on how fast my fingers fly across the keyboard lol.

Do you enjoy typing on a keyboard? Sure.

Have you ever used a typewriter? I have. We had one when I was a kid before we got a computer.

Do you own a typewriter? No.

What color are the keys on your computer's keyboard? Black.

🖨 Printer 🖨 Do you own a printer? Nope. I don't even recall the last time I printed or even needed to print something.

What was the last thing you printed off? .I don't recall.

Have you ever printed anything off in a library? Yeah, at school. I may have before at an actual library as well, I don't recall. Probably.

Do you prefer to use black ink or colored ink? Black.

Do you know how to change the ink in a printer? Yeah.

🖱Computer Mouse🖱 Can you see the computer mouse emoji? 🖱 It goes away when I start typing.

Do you wonder why they made this emoji, when it's hard to see because it's white? I haven't thought about it, but yeah good point.

Do you own a computer mouse? No.

Do you use a computer mouse? I do not.

If you own one, what color is your computer mouse? --

Do you prefer to use a mouse or a trackpad? Trackpad works for me.

Have you ever used the computer mouse emoji? No.

💾 Floppy Disk 💾 Have you ever saved anything onto a floppy disk? Yep, I remember doing that in middle school.

Do you own any floppy disks? No.

When was the last time you used a floppy disk? Middle school, I believe. I don't recall using them in high school I think by then USB drives were a thing.

What are three things you like (besides floppy disks) that are floppy? Uhhhh.

Have you ever cried because you lost something that you had saved onto a floppy disk? I don't think that happened, thankfully.

💿 Compact Disc 💿 Have you ever burned a CD? Oh yeah, I did that all the time.

Have you ever made a mix CD? Yep, same ^^^^

Have you ever done a craft project using old CDs? No

Do you own any CDs still? Nope. I actually sold the ones I had several years ago to a used shop.

What was the last CD you listened to? I have no idea.

What was the first CD that you purchased? It wasn't the first CD I ever owned, but the first one I bought myself was Ashlee Simpson's "Autobiography" album.

💽 CD in Plastic Case 💽 Did you burn CDs and then put them in a plastic case? Yeah, they were of various colors, too. I loved doing that and giving them to people.

Do you own any plastic CD cases? I said no already.

Have you ever written on a CD with a permanent marker? Yeah.

Have you ever used this emoji? I'm pretty sure I haven't.

Do you still own any of the mix tapes or mix CDs you made when you were younger? Nope.

📼 VHS Tape 📼 Do you own any VHS tapes? Yeah, we kept a lot of our Disney ones and a few others.

Did you used to watch movies on VHS tapes when you were younger? Yes.

Do you remember the orange Nickelodeon tapes? Yep, I had several of those.

Do you have any home videos that are on tapes? Yep. We plan on getting them converted to DVDs soon cause my fam and I have really been wanting to watch them.

Do you own a VCR? No.

Do you remember having to rewind VHS tapes? Yes.

📞 Telephone ☎️ Do you remember a time before cellphones? Yeah. I didn't have a cellphone until I was 15.

How old were you when you got your first cellphone? Fifteen.

Do you work in an office with a telephone? I don't work.

Do you have a home phone or just a cellphone? We have both, but like never use the home phone. I'm not sure why we keep it around.

Do you still remember your home phone number from when you were growing up? I do.

Have you ever made a prank call? Yeah, my friends and I in middle school did lame shit like that sometimes.

📠 Fax Machine 📠 Do you own a fax machine? No.

Have you ever worked in an office with a fax machine? --

Have you ever owned a fax machine? Yeah, it was part of our printer. It was one of those fax, copy machine, and printer type of thing.

Have you ever used this emoji? No.

What are three things you like that rhyme with "fax"? Hacks, like life hacks. Macs. Wax, I guess.

🗄 Filiing Cabinet 🗃 Do you own a filing cabinet? It's not organized, but I have 3-stacked drawers that I keep my stuff in. I have like 3 of those.

Do you enjoy organizing things? I wish I were more organized. I think it could be better, but ever since my health got so bad and I've basically been stuck in bed, I can't get much done like I could before. I've had help cleaning and organizing my room, which I appreciate, but it's just different and some things were put where I might not have.

Are you a very organized person? No. I need to work more on that.

Is there an office in your home? No.

When was the last time you shopped at Office Max? .*shrug*

What was the last thing you bought at Office Max? .*shrug*

🗂 Manila Folders 🗂 Do you own any manila folders? No.

Do you organize your computer files into folders? Yesss.

Did you ever use Lisa Frank folders for school when you were a kid? I sure did.

Do you still own any of the colorful folders you used to use for school when you were a kid? No, those are longggg gone.

What are three things you have stored in folders (in real life, not on a computer)? I don't have any folders.

📌 Thumbtack 📌 How many bulletin boards are there in your home? Three.

Have you ever spray-painted a bulletin board, and if yes, what color? >> haven't

Do you own a set of colorful thumbtacks? >> I don't own thumbtacks

If you own a bulletin board, what are three things you have pinned on it? .I have various photos and whatnot.

Have you ever stepped on a thumbtack? No.

✂️ Scissors ✂️ How many pairs of scissors do you own? We have a few pairs.

Have you ever ran with scissors? No.

What color are your favorite pair of craft scissors, if applicable? --

What color are your hair-cutting scissors, if applicable? --

Do you cut your own hair? 💇♀️ No. I did used to cut my own bangs when I was younger, though. Oh, I'm actually letting my bro's bf cut my hair and give me bangs soon.

Do you have a special pair of scissors that you use to open boxes? 📦 ✂️ --

Do you have different pairs of scissors that you use for different things? No

What color was the last pair of scissors you used? What was the last thing you used a pair of scissors for? Just a typical silver pair of scissors to open a box.

Do you know how to do a scissor kick? No?

When was the last time you did a scissor kick? .--

🧷 Safety Pin 🧷 When was the last time you used a safety pin? I don't recall.

Have you ever used this emoji? No.

What was the last thing you used a safety pin for? ---

Have you ever ran a race and had a number pinned to your shirt? I've had something pinned to my shirt before for other reasons. I was participating in various events as a kid.

Do you own a box of safety pins? No.

📎 Paper Clips 🖇 When was the last time you used a paperclip? I don't knoww.

What was the last thing you used a paperclip for? .To hold papers together, I'm assuming.

Do you remember Clippit, the Microsoft Word paperclip? 📎👀 💬 Yeahhhh.

Have you ever received a piece of advice from Clippit? Mhm.

Do you own a box of paperclips? I do.

📏 Rulers 📐 Do you own a ruler? Uhhh, I probably have one somewhere.

How many rulers do you own? .One, if any.

What was the last thing you used a ruler? When was the last time you used one? .--

Do you know how to draw a straight line without using a ruler? It wouldn't be perfectly straight.

What does your favorite ruler that you own look like? >> are there actually people out here with favourite rulers. fascinating. >>> Hahahahah.

🖊 Pen 🖊 Do you prefer to write with pens or pencils? Pen

What color ink pen do you write with the most? Black

Where do you normally buy pens? If feel I need some.

What was the last thing you wrote down? Filling out paperwork.

Do you enjoy writing? Do you enjoy how it feels as your hand glides across the page? ✍️ I used to. Definitely more so by typing it out. It's a good way to let my thoughts out, but I haven't really written anything in awhile.

🗑 Trash Can 🗑 What do you call a trash can? Do you call it a trash can, wastebasket, rubbish bin, garbage can, or something else? >> just "the trash" >>> lol same.

Do you need to take the trash out soon? Yeah.

What day is trash pick-up day in your city? Wednesday.

Are there things you are holding onto that you probably should just throw away? >> I tend to be ruthless about throwing away things I assume I don't need or amn't gonna use, sometimes to my regret <<< Omg, I'm the complete opposite holding onto everything. They have sentimental value and "feelings" lmaooo.

When was the last time you took the trash out? I personally don't do it because I'm unable to, but my dad did it last night.

📋 Clipboard 📋 Do you own a clipboard? I do.

When was the last time you had to sign a paper that was attached to a clipboard? Not too long ago.

Have you ever held a clipboard just to make yourself look more official? lol no...

Do you have neat handwriting? My handwriting is shit.

Would you rather write in cursive or print? Print.

📆 Calendar 📅 What is today's date? December 3rd.

How many months are there until your birthday? 🥳 7 months.

How old will you turn on your next birthday? 35 D:

Do you have a calendar on your wall? If so, what is this month's calendar picture? I have an old calendar I keep up cause it's an Alexander Skarsgard.

Are you counting down the days to anything? Christmassss.

What is your favorite season? Fall and winter.

🗒 Spiral Notepad 🗒 When was the last time you used a spiral notepad? A few months ago.

Do you own a spiral notepad? Yeah.

Would you rather write or draw? ✍️ .Write. Or how about color? Cause I can't draw, but I love to color.

Do you make to-do lists? Yeah, I use the notes app and the reminders app quite a bit.

What are/were three items on your to-do list for today? .The only one I had was I wanted to put these new face tatts on. lmao the shit I order from fucking Temu. I'm obsessed. But they're cute, they make my nose and cheeks look pink from being cold in the winter and they're Christmas themed. "Our cheeks are nice and rosy and comfy cozy are weee."

What is something you did yesterday (or today) that you really enjoyed? I started playing this game called, "Dead by Daylight." A friend of mine got me into it. I normally don't play games like that whee you're running from a killer (cause I'm a scardy ca lol). It's pretty fun, though. They incorporate characters like Ghost Face and Chuky, which is dopeeee.

What is something that you've been putting off, if there's anything? paper? I'm confused about the paper question, but yeah I've been putting off washing my hair today just cause laziness. But I have to cause I'm finally getting my hair dyed red again ahhhhh. The baddie will be back soon, ya'll.

Are you thankful that your life story is still being written? What a wild story indeed.

⏰ Alarm Clock ⏰ What time do you usually wake up in the morning? Okay so it's pissing me off cause the last week I keep waking up anywhere between 4 and 6AM for some awful reason but then thankfully I'm able to fall back asleep until like 9 or 10AM. I'd likee to just sleep through the night.

Is your bed made right now? Yes.

Do you wake up to an alarm, or do you wake up naturally? I wake up whenever my body wakes up unless I need to set an alarm, which is rare, Even then, I'll just ask my mom to get me up.

Do you normally follow a schedule, or are you more spontaneous? My day is very routine.

Do you prefer to follow a schedule or be spontaneous? It seems to work best for me. I need time in advance if something different is gonna be going onz

Do you have a clock on your wall? Yeah, but it needs new batteries.

What do you normally use to tell time? Do you use your phone, computer, wristwatch, the sun ☀️, a wall clock, a bedside alarm clock, or something else? My phone or laptop.

💡 Lightbulb 💡 How many lamps can you see from where you're sitting right now? Just my ceiling lamp.

When was the last time you changed a lightbulb? .*shrug*

Have you ever used your phone as a flashlight? 📱 Yep, many times.

Do you own a flashlight? 🔦 Yeah,

How many lightbulbs can you see from where you're sitting right now? One.

💿🗄💻 📆🗂 Final Questions! 🗃📋��📠💾 Do you work in an office? >> I don't work >>>

Have you ever had an office job? If so, did/do you like it? If you haven't had an office job, do you think you would like one? .That's all I think I could maybe do to be honest, And even then I doubt myself.

What is your favorite thing to do on a computer? 💻 >>Tumblr and The Sims.

Would you rather own a desktop computer or laptop computer? 💻 🖥 Laptop.

What is your dream job? I have no idea.

Do you prefer writing something down or typing something up on a computer? Typing, for sure. Depending on the length and what I'm typing up I'll just use my phone.

Do you own a desk? If so, what does it look like? What do you have on top of it? No, I use my bed. lol. I have so much crap on the foot of my bed.

What do you think is your favorite emoji among the ones on this survey? Meh.

[honorhearted]

Rebekah was quick to remind him that despite their distance over the years, they were hardly strangers -- strangers, after all, didn't know about one's misadventures with acne amidst a botched prom -- and with a smirk, she said, "If anything, these last couple of days have proven to me that you’re the same person in many ways. And you’re much more interesting than drying paint… Though maybe not more than a plastic bag being blown around in the street.” 

Ben laughed. "Okay, well who can beat a plastic bag blowing down the street? That's true art."

His earlier smugness, though perhaps a little merited, finally seemed to catch up with him as Rebekah denied his guess. “I’m more of a Bronte devotee," she said. "Looks like it's your turn to throw one back, Tallmadge.” 

"Okay, but which Brontë?" Ben volleyed. "Charlotte, Emily, or Anne? Or will you make me take another drink if I guess and fail miserably?" Chuckling, he lifted his glass in a salute of sorts, then took a generous swallow (mostly for his potential second incorrect guess) before lowering his glass again with a hum. "For the record, I enjoy all of them, though Charlotte was the first one I ever had the pleasure of reading. I have to give my devotion towards my initial experience, because 'you never forget your first.'"

Rebekah held up a finger. “Don’t expect me to follow up with that same question. With as much as you read, I don’t think I’d ever be able to figure out who you’re currently obsessing over unless you told me.” 

He canted his head. "All right, so I guess that would be a cruel position to put you into. I've been building my personal library since I was only a couple months old."

Rebekah hummed, mulling over her options. Finally, she declared, “Your kid crush was Alyssa Milano.”

Ben grinned, lifting his shoulders. "I'll go ahead and give you a half-point for that...because yes, Alyssa was certainly on my list," he agreed. "However, I've always been more into blondes...think Jessica Simpson, or even Hilary Duff." He drew a hand over his chest in a mock swoon. "That Lizzie McGuire always looked like a possible intellectual. Speaking of lists..." He arched a brow. "Did you know you were on ours?"

Holding up his hands, Ben was quick to amend, "Caleb, Abe and I had a celebrity list and a 'normal' girls list, and I don't want this going to your head or anything, but you were at the very top." Chuckling, he nudged her with his shoe. "Then again, there were only like three girls in Setauket, so I guess that isn't much of a crowning achievement."

Swirling the liquor in his glass, Ben squinted at her a moment, then decided, "I might as well continue this line of questioning with more childhood crushes. I really hope I'm wrong about this -- please say I'm wrong -- but you had a thing for Justin Timberlake."

“Unless you mean Caleb Brewster, I can’t imagine there’ll be any strange men walking into my home,” she laughed, “We might have some more catching up to do, but you’re hardly a complete stranger, Ben. If anything, these last couple of days have proven to me that you’re the same person in many ways. And you’re much more interesting than drying paint…”

Here, she smirked, gesturing toward him with her fork, ”Though maybe not more than a plastic bag being blown around in the street.” 

While she’d at least been close (blue would have been her second guess), having given an incorrect fact about him made it clear that there were probably several little things that had been forgotten about Ben. Yet he’d been able to recall something as simple as her favorite color. What else might he remember about her? 

"Drink up. And for the record: you don't have to follow-up with the same question. Not unless you were just dying to know my favorite color, of course." 

“I assumed you were right about it being an easy starting point, but I guess I’m rustier than I thought.” 

Fortunately, Ben’s next guess wasn’t as on par as his first. In response, she imitated a buzzer and feigned a wince. 

“I’m more of a Bronte devotee. Looks like it's your turn to throw one back, Tallmadge.” 

Rebekah held up her pointer finger, “Don’t expect me to follow up with that same question. With as much as you read, I don’t think I’d ever be able to figure out who you’re currently obsessing over unless you told me.” 

So what would she ask him then?

Eyeing him once over, she smiled, “Your kid crush was Alyssa Milano.”

[dammjamboy]

hi i spent an hour on this ♡

[spacegirl2108]

This is the most cursed thing I've drew it

Context: Marc's parents had to travel to another country for an investigation (HC from @andromeda612 that they are archaeologists)

And since they couldn't take little baby Marc with them, they left him with his aunt and uncle (Yes, I am also applying the HC that they are cousins)

And smol Marinette spent a lot of time with him, and in one of those moments Marc said his first word

"Mm-nette!"

And Marinette, very excited, went to tell Sabine and Tom

I inspired by the Simpsons episode "Lisa's First Word" as it's one of my favorites of Bart and Lisa

And I wanted to convey that energy with Marinette and Marc 🌺💖🌈

And now...MORE Simpson style

[alj4890]

Choices: A Red Carpet Diaries Fan Fic

(Thomas Hunt x OC) inspired by Top Gun Maverick and taken from my A Second Chance AU

A/N: LOL! Okay. Everyone who looks at my fics/moodboards/etc knows that Jon Hamm is my FC for Thomas Hunt. Blame my eternal love of Mad Men, smh. Anyway, due to the violence and sadness going on in my current TRR Dark AU series and that bit of angsty fluff fic with Drake and Olivia and this last angsty one with Riley, I need some fluff, humor, family life, jealousy; all the stuff I normally write for a breather. And now that my husband is out of the hospital and well again (and life has finally calmed down, LOL) I needed a Thomas Hunt fic! I adore the action, romance, and cheesy 80s aspects of the first Top Gun. And yes, I will confess that I saw Top Gun Maverick twice the week it came out. But this sequel knocks it out of the park storyline wise. And maybe because they added a certain Mr. Jon Hamm to the mix makes it even better 👀 So in this fic of mine, it isn't Jon given the role of Admiral Beau "Cyclone" Simpson. It is our beloved Mr. Hunt much to his wife's delight. And yes my OC, Amanda, is given my love of Top Gun and my own personal embarrassing story of what I used to do when playing the original's love song when single and dating as a teenager 🙈 Those poor guys never understood why I insisted on playing such an old soundtrack each date.

@hopelessromantic1352 @krsnlove @trappedinfanfiction @sophxwithers @twinkleallnight @aworldoffandoms @tessa-liam @flyawayboo @moodyvalentinestories

Song Inspiration: Take My Breath Away

Masterlist

Going Method

"Cut!" Joseph yelled out. He had a big smile gracing his lips. "That is exactly the reaction I was looking for."

Thomas tried to be grateful for the compliment. It has been nearly two decades since he had stepped back in front of the camera. He knew the reason for deciding to act just this once was because of a desire to work with Joseph Kosinski. His fellow director impressed him with many of his previous films.

He'd also looked forward to finally being able to work with Tom Cruise. The two Hollywood icons tried for nearly fifteen years to find a free moment to collaborate on a film. Each time Thomas had a new project, it seemed that Tom was in the midst of filming a new sequel to his Mission: Impossible franchise or there wasn't a part right for the actor.

Everything about this should be perfect.

Though this was a sequel, and Thomas typically detested such, there was something about the script that drew him into the storyline. This wasn't your typical action movie. It had heart. It touched emotions he hadn't thought possible for a story about a bunch of hotshot pilots.

Thomas should be having the time of his life, instead of fighting a burning jealousy that could only be sparked by one person.

His wife.

Amanda had no idea how badly he wanted to punch Tom Cruise in his still too handsome face. Her reaction to hearing there was not only a sequel to, unknown to her husband, one of her favorite films but that Thomas would be taking part had taken him completely by surprise.

As Thomas made his way back to his trailer, he could still picture his wife's face when he told her he wanted her to come on location with him.

******************

A month earlier...

"I want it to be just the two of us." Thomas slipped his arms around her. "Rachel and Stephen agreed to watch Kathleen and the twins." He smiled softly at her. "We haven't had a vacation of sorts alone since our honeymoon."

"You know I would love that." Amanda leaned in to kiss him. "But we can't be away from the children that long."

"We'll have them visit." He responded. "If they miss us too much, then we will have them stay."

Amanda's smile twisted into a playful grimace. "We both know once Rachel and Stephen are here that you and I will be easily forgotten."

He snorted, shaking his head. It was true. Kathleen, Ian, and Elizabeth adored their aunt and uncle. Nothing made them more excited than getting special time with them. Most of the requests when they came by for a visit were for their parents to stay home while they went out with their fun loving relatives.

"Perhaps time away will make them remember they love us too." Thomas teased, pulling Amanda closer. "And give us a chance to show each other our own feelings."

"Don't you dare give me that look!" Amanda playfully scolded.

"What look?" His lips skated down her nexk

"You know very well which look." She met his lips in a long heated kiss. "That look plus kisses like that got me pregnant twice."

"Must be powerful." He mumbled, kissing her again.

"Very." She sighed softly as his hands moved along her curves. "You never told me what type of movie you will be starring in."

"Costarring." He reminded her. "It is actually a sequel to one of Tom's old movies."

Her fingers stilled in unbuttoning his shirt. "Oh? Which one?"

"Top Gun." He tugged her shirt up over her head.

"Top Gun!" Amanda squealed, pushing out of his arms.

Thomas stared at her in surprise.

"I love that movie!" She continued, smiling even more at the notion. "Are you his new wingman?"

"No." His eyes narrowed somewhat over her slight pout hearing that. "I play an admiral over the pilot school, Admiral Beau Cyclone Simpson."

"Really?" Amanda sat down at the foot of the bed. "Does your character, Cyclone, like Maverick or do you disapprove of his actions and attitude?"

Thomas folded his arms. He could tell that all thoughts of romance had left by her simply sitting there being unusually inquisitive during his attempt at seduction.

"I disapprove." He grumbled, meaning it in more ways than one.

"I knew it." She nodded. "With your personality and voice, you would be serious and against Maverick."

His eyes narrowed. "Let me guess, you like his character?"

"Of course I do!" Her laughter over what was clearly a ridiculous question turned into a deep, heartfelt sigh. "Who wouldn't love him?"

So like is now love, he thought to himself.

"Do you think he will wear the outfit?" Amanda asked after a few moments of staring off into space.

"Outfit?

"You know?" Amanda prodded. "The Maverick look: blue jeans, tight white t-shirt, brown bomber jacket, and those aviator sunglasses." Her sigh was even louder than the one that came before it.

Thomas frowned while buttoning his shirt. "I don't know what he is wearing in the film."

"If I see him in person wearing that and riding his motorcycle..." Amanda shook her head with a dreamy smile as her voice trailed off.

"I take it you like this particular look." Thomas said with a sarcastic edge.

"It was my favorite look on a man for years." Amanda cut her eyes to her husband. "Right up until I saw you for the first time in a tuxedo."

Thomas stilled in his actions. "Really?"

She nodded, rising off the bed to wind her arms around his neck. "You made every other look and man fade away once I saw you."

His frown eased hearing that.

She pressed a long, tender kiss to his lips. Her hands slid down to start unbuttoning his shirt once more.

"Will you, by chance, be wearing any navy uniforms in this movie?" She bit down on her bottom lip when his kisses traveled along her neck and shoulders.

"I will." He cocked an eyebrow at her.

Her smile turned flirty. "I can't wait to see how you look in them."

His smile reappeared as her lips crashed back against his.

******************

He should have known when he first saw Tom in the stupid white t-shirt and blue jeans that his wife would be thrilled. He heard her slight oh the moment the actor pulled out the leather jacket and made his way over to them.

"You must be Amanda." Tom held his hand out, a big smile popping up.

"I am." Her own matching smile irritated Thomas. "It is so nice to finally meet you."

As the two talked, Thomas could only stand there both grateful for his own aviator sunglasses hiding his glare and cursing the eyeware to perdition because Tom slipped his on. Then he felt heat flare over him as the two walked toward a motorcycle, leaving him to trail behind.

"I know this isn't the GPZ from the first movie." Amanda said, eyeing the new bike. "Is it still a Kawasaki?"

"You know your bikes." Tom replied with a smile.

"I don't." She laughed. "I only know the one you rode in Top Gun." A blush crept up her cheeks. "When my uncle showed me the movie, it became a dream of mine when I was thirteen to ride on one."

"Would you like to try this one?" Tom asked.

"She doesn't know how to drive a motorcycle." Thomas quickly spoke up.

"Then how about I give you a ride?" Tom put the bomber jacket on, then swung his leg over the seat. "We've got some downtime before the next scene."

Thomas was already shaking his head while his wife was nodding hers.

"I'd love to!" She quickly got behind Tom.

Thomas stood there with his jaw dropped. His wife was asking where to put her feet and then where to hold on for safety.

"Just hold on tight to me." Tom told her, starting up the bike. "And lean into the curves."

"Wait!" Thomas struggled to speak. "Doesn't she need a helmet?"

They didn't hear him over the roar of the engine. Amanda wrapped her arms around Tom's waist, scooting much too close in her husband's opinion to the actor's back, and with a quick nod, they took off down the road.

Leaving Thomas fuming.

****************

Later that evening...

"That was the most thrilling ride I've ever been on." Amanda continued to gush. "I've been on motorcycles a few times in my life, but nothing will ever top that!"

Thomas blew the candles out at the table he had made certain was set for a romantic dinner for two. Their bungalow at the beach couldn't have been more perfect for a second honeymoon. Dinner with the waves hitting the shore in the background should have been pleasant.

If only Tom Crusie was not a part of it.

Amanda began to collect their empty dishes while continuing to talk about her teenage fantasy becoming a reality.

"To have him dressed like that while he drove me around was perfect." She sighed softly. "If only my sixteen-year-old self knew it would one day happen."

Thomas eyed her over the rim of his glass. "Sixteen?"

She nodded. Another blush covered her cheeks. "I used to fantasize that I could be the girl Maverick falls for. Takes on rides at night." Her smile turned a tad self-depreciating. "Kiss."

Thomas took a needed gulp of his drink. He welcomed the burn to keep his jealous words from tumbling out.

"I know what I'm about to admit sounds awful." Amanda tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, eyes averted from her husband. "But do you remember the love song in the first Top Gun?"

"Yes." Thomas cleared his throat. "Take My Breath Away."

Amanda's lips curved somewhat. "Gah. That song used to give me chills. When it plays in the movie, and Tom and Kelly start to make love..." She shifted nervously, "I used to play that when on a date."

Thomas frowned somewhat. "The film's love scene?"

"No. Take My Breath Away." Amanda finally looked up at him. "Remember, I was sixteen and well, I used to close my eyes and pretend the guy that was kissing me was Maverick."

Thomas didn't know how to respond. How had he managed to somehow end up in a movie with the one actor his wife not only fantasized about but also felt the need to tell him every detail of it.

"It makes me sound horrible." Amanda mumbled when she noticed the look of disbelief on her husband's face.

"No." He managed to say. "Like you said, you were young and most likely the young men you were dating at the time could have used an upgrade."

Amanda shook her head with a laugh. "It's true." Her smile was warm once again. "I suppose they too imagined I was someone else."

He doubted it.

She wound her arms around his neck. "So..."

Thomas quirked an eyebrow in silent question.

"We are all alone." She threaded her fingers through his hair. "No twelve year old or seven year olds knocking at the door." Her lips found his earlobe. "Whatever shall we do with this freedom?"

His arms locked around her. Eyes closed tight with the way she kissed him.

Thank God that song isn't playing somewhere, he thought to himself.

Her hands drifted down his body.

And then he couldn't think at all.

******************

The next few weeks went quickly. Thomas found himself gritting his teeth anytime his wife and co-star interacted. When it came time to perform his scenes, he had no trouble at all displaying the struggle of keeping his dislike at bay.

Tom and Joseph praised him for somehow conveying that dislike just below the surface.

"I gotta say," Tom patted him on the back after once scene, "that look you gave me was one that made me pause in wondering if you really can't stand me." He chuckled as he parted from Thomas and went into his trailer.

Thomas had to bite back that he wasn't acting, at least not in the sense he used to.

He was going full method for this role.

***************

During Thomas's last week to film for his scenes, a party was given in Tom's bungalow.

Amanda seemed more excited than usual on the days leading up to it. Thomas didn't ask why she was. The last thing he needed was another reason to be jealous. But the night of the party, he was unable to remain silent.

She was actually humming to herself while putting her makeup on. He couldn't remember a time she was this giddy to go out for a night of supposed revelry.

"You seem happier than usual." He grumbled as he stepped out of the shower.

"I do?" Her eyes found him in the reflection of her mirror. "I suppose I am."

He wrapped a towel around his waist, dreading to hear her reasons.

"I know that tonight marks our final days here." A smile played about her lips as she searched for her powder. "I've missed our home and daily routines. Having the children visit us was nice, but I can't wait to get back to them." She lifted her eyes to her husband's. "Though I have thoroughly enjoyed our alone time."

Thomas felt his dread disappear. It wasn't the fact she was about to see Tom Cruise or anything at all to do with her feelings for his character. She wanted what he wanted. To go home and return to the life they had together was still a shared dream.

He came up behind her, tilted her face up, and gave her a tender kiss. He felt her smile against his lips as her fingers tangled in his damp hair.

"You're making me want to be late to the party." She teased.

"You're wrong." He kissed her again. "You're the one making me want to forget about what time we should arrive." His hands grasped her waist, urging her closer as their kisses became more heated. "Hearing you say that you want what I long for in returning home makes it impossible not to kiss you."

She reluctantly stepped back with a frustrated moan. "We better stop while we still can." Her half-smile revealed how little she wanted to. "It would be rude of us not to be on time."

His hands slid inside her robe, pulling her closer than before.

"We'll be fashionably late." He whispered against her skin.

*********************

Perhaps it was the talk the two had or the fact that his skin still tingled from making love to Amanda an hour earlier, but Thomas was doing better at observing from across the room his wife in deep discussion with Tom Cruise.

Seeing Joseph as part of the conversation also helped him keep his jealousy at a low boil.

When she was pulled away by some of his costars, he decided to find out what they had been talking about.

"I bet your ears are burning." Tom teased.

"Burning?" Thomas asked.

"I think you married your biggest fan." Joseph explained. "She was just telling us how much she loves watching you in the scenes you were in."

"She did?" Thomas couldn't stop his smile from forming.

Tom shook his head with a laugh. "My feelings would be hurt if she wasn't married to you. She was blind to the rest of us as soon as you showed up in a scene." He winked at Thomas. "Thank God you weren't in every scene or else she wouldn't have been able to critique my own performance."

"I'd say that you are a lucky man," Joseph added with a grin, "but then that would mean we aren't as lucky as you."

"And we can't have that." Tom teased.

"No, I suppose not." Thomas mumbled, searching the room for his wife.

"She stepped outside in case you are wondering." Joseph pointed toward the patio door.

The two watched in amusement as Thomas hurried off without another word.

***************

He found her near the water. After all these years, he still loved how she would leave a party to get off by herself to think on things and the people she interacted with. He also loved that she never insisted they remain at said party until the bitter end.

He wrapped his arms around her, smiling as she immediately relaxed back against him.

"I was looking for you."

She pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Looks like you found me."

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming out here?"

"You were talking to Tom and Joseph. I didn't want to interrupt." Amanda turned in his arms so she could slide hers around him.

"You," Thomas leaned down until he was barely brushing her lips, "are never an interruption."

She started to laugh when he drily admitted that she was a distraction though.

"I'll try to stop that." She said once calm.

"You better not." He muttered, finally kissing her.

"I'm going to miss this." She mumbled, once more barely brushing his lips with hers. "No interruptions while we sneak away."

"I thought you missed our three interruptions." He pressed her closer to his body.

"I do, horribly." She captured his bottom lip with her own causing him to suck in a surprised breath. "We will have to find a way to have both them and these rare moments alone."

"Agreed." His mouth slanted over hers, drawing a soft moan from her. "We'll have Rachel and Stephen over more often."

"Perfect." She stepped out of his arms.

He cocked an eyebrow at her when she held her hand out to him.

"Where are we going?" Thomas asked, allowing her to tug him further away from the party.

"Back to our bungalow." Amanda cast a coy glance towards him. "I have a very strong desire to be with my favorite actor from Top Gun"

"That better be me you're talking about." He yanked her back into his arms.

"As if there can be any doubt." She looped her arms around his neck. "You were the only one I visited the set for." Her eyes drifted down. "The one I found the most handsome in his uniforms." Her lips curved when she felt his body respond to her words. "The one I couldn't take my eyes off of whenever anyone else spoke."

"What about Tom?" He couldn't stop the question from tumbling out.

Her lifted back to his. "What do you mean?"

"He was playing your favorite character." He reminded her.

"So?"

Thomas grimaced somewhat. "Wasn't he able to steal your attention away from me?"

Amanda tilted her head in a manner that made him squirm as she silently studied him.

"Nevermi--" he started to say.

"Not once." She replied at the same time.

His eyes widened. "What did you say?"

"I said, not once." She returned to her former position of being close against him. "He doesn't even come close to holding my attention like you do."

"But you love Maverick." He reminded her

"True." She turned her head when she heard music begin playing. "Is that..."

Thomas felt his heart drop when he heard the familar song, Take My Breath Away, playing. He'd forgotten that his other costars were planning on using it to tease Tom. He could hear the laughter of the cast mixed with the melody.

Don't kiss me, he silently pleaded. Don't kiss me and think of Tom Cruise while you do it.

Amanda looked up at him with a playful, flirty smile.

"We should go." He mumbled as she inched closer.

"I'd rather have a kiss." She pressed her lips along his jaw. "Beau."

He stilled. "What did you call me?"

"Beau." She muttered between kisses along his neck. She leaned back to meet his shocked gaze. "Or would you rather I call you, Admiral, or your call sign, Cyclone?"

Thomas merely stuttered until her lips met his. He clutched her close when he realized what was happening.

The song, the very one her younger self used as daydream fuel of Tom Cruise while kissing, was now being used to think of his own character. Thomas didn't know he had anything left within him to fall more in love with his wife, but in this moment he could feel it happening.

He took over the kiss, determined to give her one that she would never forget. He tried to imagine how his character would react to having the woman he loved more than anything in his arms. Completely his. He used that inspiration to draw moans from her, glorying in taking her breath away.

How lucky could a man be to not only have his own dream girl to kiss in both real life and pretend?

[yandere-toons]

I loved the Mr. Burns headcanons, so I gotta request! Ok, so I feel like he’d definitely be subtle in stopping the readers’ attempts at quitting their job at his company so what about a platonic scenario from just his perspective as he schemes all these plans and carries them out? You can choose if it’s platonic or not, I don’t mind! Extra points for a reader who unwittingly thwarts an attempt or two.

Yandere Mr. Burns (Platonic Scenario - "Ahead of the Pack")

Warnings: Psychological Manipulation, Toxic Mindsets.

A.N. – The Simpsons universe has got to be one of my favourites to write. So many amusing characters.

Stepping out of the foul corridors, with their decaying walls caked in asbestos paint and rancid odours of rotten eggs, and into his office was like entering the lofty anteroom of a mansion from a dilapidated street lined with trash and rats.

A person devoid of cosmopolitan interests could wander through the room and blindly select any one of its qualities, and the item would exceed the net worth of every floor worker in the company.

The door was held wide open by Waylon Smithers, a man who sported a pair of round eyeglasses and an aura of unshakeable satisfaction in his current position. He extended his left arm—which had been tucked behind his back—and gestured for you to approach the mahogany desk.

The furniture cast a long shadow across the crimson carpet due to the spacious window bordering it that acted as the rear wall.

Sitting on a plush chair that towered over its sunken-eyed, scarecrowish occupant was Mr. Burns, and he waited for you to reach him with his hands clasped together in front of his chest.

"Just a workplace questionary," the billionaire had promised. A navy blue business suit adorned the man that seemed immune to wear and tear despite your many years of employment.

When you settled onto the adjacent chair that your colleagues often complained was either missing or uncomfortable, Mr. Burns swirled his index finger in a call for Smithers's attention. "Fetch us some refreshments."

The assistant nodded his head with a smile, and Mr. Burns returned his focus to you before the end of his sentence.

"I trust the other labourers have begun schmoozing about their own assemblies." Ignoring your visible confusion at the statement, the billionaire continued. "Now, if your workday could be improved, how might that be accomplished?"

When you failed to give an immediate answer, he opted to provide a bit of encouragement. "Just to gauge the overall workplace satisfaction," assured Mr. Burns, although he struggled to find the words like a politician who forgot his cue cards.

Smithers appeared at the corner of the desk with a baroque bottle of red wine. The billionaire offered him an approving nod, which prompted him to supply the drink with much greater speed. Silently, the assistant laid a wine glass on the desk and poured from a bottle of Pinot Noir until the glass was half full. Smithers placed a cup of your favourite beverage in front of you.

Mr. Burns took a modest sip of his red wine, watching over the rim of his goblet and assessing your reaction behind a hidden smile. "A three percent pay raise, perhaps?"

The suggestion earned a contemplative shake of your shoulders. "That and a longer lunch break."

A snap echoed in the office, and a yes-man scrambled out from behind you and bent forward at a painful angle so Mr. Burns would not have to strain himself whatsoever to talk discreetly. The crony released periodic hums of agreement as his boss fed him a string of orders. Shortly after the yes-man moved to exit the room, Homer Simpson blocked the doorway.

The rotund man waved at the billionaire as if spotting an old friend from across the street. "Hey, Mr. Burns! I heard you were taking suggestions, so—" he drew the word out in a prolonged eye roll and tapped his index fingers together "—could we get a donut dispenser in the break room? The fancy kind that has more than three flavours?"

The bewilderment flooding his system stunned Mr. Burns, but he soon jumped up and pointed an accusatory finger at Homer. "Charlatan! Rid this fine office of your hams! Away with you, I say!"

Homer blinked in slight intimidation, not resisting when Smithers guided him out of the room. "Mr. Burns is busy at the moment. He'll turn down your request later," explained the assistant before he shut the door in Homer's face.

Looking askance at you, Mr. Burns signalled the yes-man to leave with a flick of his wrist. "And if you were to consider—" he hesitated for a moment as if the word balancing on his tongue sickened him to utter "—alternate forms of employment, what would they be?" His voice dropped and slowed for the second half of the question, and he turned to you directly with a steely manner that betrayed the rising tension of Smithers's posture.

"If I had to choose," you mused while gazing around the lavish room, pretending that the thought did not repel all other uses of your attention. "Moe's Tavern wouldn't be bad."

The billionaire examined the surface of his desk, fingers tapping one another in repetition and muttering, "Moe's Tavern, eh?" With a wave of his hand, he beckoned to another yes-man and whispered an inaudible order in his ear. As the crony sprinted out of the room and his departure was followed by the muffled rings of various cell phones, Mr. Burns resumed the discussion with a newfound cheer.

"I hear their stocks are going to crash soon!" He corrected the lopsided position of a pen and moved it nearer to you. "Now, was there anywhere else?" The billionaire scooted forward in his chair, pulling it closer to the desk and watching you intently.

A brief period of silence came and went, but it was finally shattered by you jesting, "I wouldn't mind your job if there was another plant."

After closing his eyes for a brief chuckle that was entirely performative, Mr. Burns removed his hand from his chest and pressed a button on his intercom control. He leaned over the device, eyeing you with a hint of fear to ensure that your attention had not wandered from appreciating the joke to examining his behaviour. Quietly, he spoke into the transceiver, "Dock the wages of every other employee in Sector 7G by three percent."

The billionaire returned to his original position with his hands neatly folded one on top of the other and resumed a steady chuckle to appear as though he had never stopped. When your laughter quieted to silence, Mr. Burns pantomimed wiping a tear out of his eye. "This discussion has been most informative."

He lowered his forearm until it was loosely pointing at the door. "Why don't you take the rest of the day off? Smithers will see you out."

As the door closed behind you and your footsteps departed, Smithers turned to his boss. "Another successful scheme, sir?"

Mr. Burns, who was now standing at his desk, titled his head downwards and tapped his fingertips together as if strumming an invisible harp. "I have every confidence in it."

* * *

The sun had barely peeked over the horizon of Springfield and illumed the radioactive mist that graced the property of the Nuclear Power Plant when furious chanting broke the morning quietude. "Pay up!" shouted the crowd who had accumulated near the gated entrance to the power plant, and they raised their signs with various slogans written on them to the sky.

"Look at them all, Smithers," came the disapproving tone of Mr. Burns from the doorway separating his office from the crisp air of the outside. He strayed from the edge of the balcony for fear of being egged or pelted with tomatoes like some town fool on his way to the stockade, while Smithers did as he was instructed and approached the ornate guardrail.

"Seems that Sector 7G noticed their pay cuts," the assistant commented, folding his arms behind his back.

Mr. Burns, deriving a vague sense of protection from the fact that Smithers could act as a meat shield against any projectiles, ambled further onto the balcony. "Yes, those ninnies have formed quite the intractable rabble."

Smithers looked in the general direction of his boss. "Shall I phone the union busters, sir?"

The billionaire's response was slow and pensive as if answering a different question. "No, that spendthrift patsy from the union assured me an arrival before noon." Sorrow, a mere shade of his previous words, percolated his voice as he held his arms in front of his chest. "They've turned against me, Smithers."

Quirking his eyebrows in a dash of concern, the assistant watched his boss move to stand beside him. "Sector 7G, sir?"

Mr. Burns shook his head, and the weight burdening his words grew with a mild sigh. "The raise wasn't enough. They've decided to spite me by organizing this band of riffraff." A familiar iciness swept across his expression, his fingers curling around the railing. "Look at them," he repeated, "they're congregating."

A mobile shopping stand was positioned on the outskirts of the throng, blank signs dangling from it and an Indian-accented man proclaiming, "Get your protest signs here! Freshly made and not at all refurbished cardboard from the dump!" Apu Nahasapeemapetilon manned the booth, his arm outstretched and waving at every protester within his sight.

Expression brightening, a brunet, known to his friends as Lenny, darted to the stand and explained in a nasal voice, "Geez, thank goodness! I left my sign at home." As he went to retrieve his wallet from his pocket, the price tag of the sign he was eyeing drew a look of shock and anger from the man. "Thirty dollars for a six-by-eight? That's highway robbery!"

Apu narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. "Do you want to save your job or not?" Watching Lenny survey the products with fresh uncertainty, he lowered his arms and added, "Markers are sold separately." The two men became locked in a staring contest as Lenny expelled a long growl at the news before another voice interrupted them.

"Half-priced comic books! Grab a copy while you wait for the union representative!" An obese man dressed in greasy clothes had established a booth on the opposite side of the crowd, where he was waving a comic book in the air and gesturing to the array of entries lining the shelves on his stand. Lenny offered a hum of interest and raced to snatch a comic book that featured two men in a romantic embrace on the cover.

"Carl! Carl, look at this one!" He turned away from the booth and extended the item towards a black-haired man standing at the front of the crowd.

The man peered over his shoulder at Lenny, seemingly overlooking the comic book. "Lenny!" he shouted over the bluster of colleagues pacing and hollering around him. "Lenny, did you get your sign?" Before Carl could hear his best friend's answer, a crotchety voice flared on his right.

"Give 'em their money!" yelled a bedraggled man rendered shorter than many of the other protesters by a slight slouch. Hard lines marked the underside of his eyes as if they were permanently close to shutting for a long nap, and his lips were curved into a scowl that seemed more comfortable on his face than any smile. The blue apron fastened over his shoulders like suspenders and his bumpy, grey hair exposed him as Moe Szyslak, the owner of a local bar that was popular with the blue-collar denizens of Springfield.

Cocking his head, Carl barely lowered his sign and looked askance at the bartender. "Moe? You don't even work here."

Moe retracted his fist, which had been raised in anger at the balcony, and faced the regular with drooping eyes. "Yeah, but you guys binge drinking is half of my customer base."

From atop a wooden crate that housed countless possibilities of materials, you lounged with a comic book in your grasp and flipped through the pages as if in serene solitude.

Mr. Burns observed with restrained displeasure and fixed his glare on the Comic Book Guy. "Steal my employee, will you?" He pulled back from his grip on the handrail of the balcony. "Distract them from their work, eh?" The billionaire turned halfway to his office, but his gaze remained on the comic book stand. "Well, your ham-fisted attempt at subterfuge just met its superior, shyster."

Just as the talk of cheap comic books had begun to swell, a raspy voice called from a little down the driveway. "Delivery!" Rapid footsteps breached the entrance to the power plant before the crowd parted to reveal a middle-aged man decked out in clown makeup. He stumbled to a halt and rested his hands on his knees to pant, struggling not to collapse as the multitude of bags hanging on his arms slid towards the ground.

After a groan of exhaustion, the clown acquired the look of a man disappointed in his own stupidity. "I horribly misjudged the distance and had to run all the way here." Phony joy overtook his face as if his weariness had evaporated in the heat, and he proceeded to walk between different members of the protest while offering specific bags to each person.

"I've got a dozen Krusty Burgers and four Doubles! Take 'em before your neighbour does." His eyes flitted to the sunshine pouring down upon the asphalt in an unrelenting beam, causing his voice to lose a degree of its chirpiness. "Or before they melt into the piles of grease that they really are!" Within a few seconds of sniffing and ogling the food, hungry employees swarmed Krusty like a wolf pack preying on a wounded deer.

The mob relented after every member had seized a bag for themselves, and the clown emerged with ragged hair and small rips in his clothes as if he had been in a fight. A singular bag remained on his right arm. Loud chewing and muffled thanks echoed in the entrance as Homer pushed his way through the crowd, who were too preoccupied with gorging to offer anything more than indistinct mumbles of acknowledgement.

Homer raised his hands to the sides of his head, his arched fingers wiggling in anticipation of gripping the oily texture of a burger. The man expelled a hum of delight and licked his lips, which drew an eye roll from the clown.

At the drool beginning to trickle from Homer's mouth, Krusty extended a revolting wad of fatty meat stuffed between a pair of sesame seed buns. It oozed with torrents of grease that glistened like sweat off an athlete and stunk of laundry abandoned to roast in the sun for days. The clown averted his gaze with a contemptuous frown, and his identification of the meal arrived in a half-hearted mixture of boredom and disdain.

"Three Cloggers," he grumbled, barely suppressing a sigh. As the bag was snatched from his hold, to which he offered no resistance, and Homer devoured the meal as though it were his first in days, Krusty ambled to the crate that seated you. "I was promised a generous tip?" He outstretched an arm, palm upturned and waiting to clinch a fat stack of dollar bills.

From his perch on the end of the balcony, Mr. Burns alternated between squeezing the guardrail and softening his grip to relieve the pressure on his brittle bones. He leaned forward at the sight of Krusty pocketing a chunk of money and shaking your hand. When you accompanied the clown to the main gate, the billionaire recoiled with a gasp and retreated into his office.

Tapping his fingertips together, Mr. Burns emitted a slow "hmm" and tilted his head towards the crimson carpet decorating the room so his eyes were forced to glare through the roof of his gaze. "Trifle yet, clown. Your jests shall receive their comeuppance in due time."

* * *

The light seeping from the fireplace climbed the walls in vibrant stripes, yet Mr. Burns was overtaken by a coldness that denied the reach of the warmth toasting his carpet. It was the inexplicable, self-made type of chill that lingered on those unable to go far without looking over their shoulder for an assailant.

Hums and mumbles littered the air as he peeked between the telephone situated on his desk and the spare papers covering the rest of the surface, occasionally reading a line and forgetting it in the next second.

The rectangular figure of Smithers appeared in the doorway as a silhouette cloaked in the dim light streaming through the corridor. With a smile that appeared oblivious to the turmoil begging to unfold at the ring of bad news, he held the golden door open with one hand and gripped the fluffy collar of a rich green robe in the other.

"Time for bed, sir?"

Mr. Burns raised his forearm and cast a drowsy glance at his assistant, curling his fingers slightly in a request to be left undisturbed. "Not yet, Smithers." His gaze drifted back to the desk. "I'm expecting a telephone call."

The man stepped further into the office and allowed the door to close behind him, darkening his view of his surroundings to the orange and red slivers writhing within the fireplace. "At this hour, sir?" Bewilderment layered his voice like a streak of thick honey, and he lowered the velvet robe to his side while clenching the fur trim.

Twirling a pen between his fingers, the billionaire shook his head and replied with dire exasperation as if answering the question demanded more energy than he preferred to give. "Yes, a report on our losses from the union strike today. Nasty business, that."

A bit of the tension in Smithers's grip was released. No sooner than he loosened his shoulders did the telephone erupt in a series of rings. Clenching his other fist, Mr. Burns lifted the device to his ear with marked urgency.

A man identified himself as a member of the accounting sector, which spurred Mr. Burns to recline on the cushy leather of his seat and interrupt with a bored "yes, yes."

The accountant started to give an extensive retelling of the protest as if the billionaire had not witnessed the whole event, to which Mr. Burns responded, "Dispense with the formalities, man!" He slammed the side of his fist onto the desk and leaned forward in the chair, prompting its ancient hinges to screech. "I want stats, casualty rates!"

As the voice detailed the casualties of the strike, the list of employees who had resigned in anger aroused nothing in the billionaire. He did not wish them a better future, nor did his attention to their departure extend beyond a mental note of the new job openings.

Each name passed through his ears in a dispassionate blur, some conjuring the semblance of familiarity while most were indistinguishable from mere noise, such as the buzz of a fly.

It was not until the final name rumbled out of the telephone that Mr. Burns seemed to awaken from a deep sleep.

Recognition pierced his addled mind like a spear, and the pen, once engaged in repetitive spins, halted with its tip just grazing the surface of the desk. "I see," he murmured, loud enough that his words would not be mistaken, but quiet enough that the hint of dismay underlining his downcast gaze was noticed by Smithers.

The assistant had begun to take a step closer to his boss—a comforting hand rising from his hip—when Mr. Burns decided that the call was over.

The telephone met the cradle with a harsh bang and a rattle, one that reverberated through the generous expanse of the office like the toll of a grand bell. His hand remained latched onto the device many a moment longer as if considering another call or hoping to hear the infernal voice of a yes-man instruct him to quench his worries. When no such reprieve arrived, he released it with begrudging hesitancy, one finger at a time.

Mr. Burns propped his elbows on the desk, and as his fingers neatly fell into slots beside one another, he looked past the fiery shadows dancing across the walls. Their flickering rhythm illuminated his face with a degree of success that varied from moment to moment. A kaleidoscope of umbrage and malevolence thickened the silence -- a force minimally disrupted by the crackles of burning wood -- into a subject of dread.

The billionaire rose from his seat, not minding the creak of the chair and approaching the rear window with his hands intertwined behind his back. After gazing into the darkness that pervaded his land just long enough to inspire discomfort, Mr. Burns spoke with a voice deceptively free of agitation. "Smithers?" He turned his head the slightest bit towards the man.

The personal assistant hurried to unveil himself in the warm glow of the fireplace, standing in front of the desk with his arms pressed against his sides. "Sir?"

"Fetch my coat." In the murky reflection of Mr. Burns that was cast upon the glass, Smithers beheld the appearance of a cruel excitement. "We're going clown hunting tonight."

[wordynerdygurl]

Hello Everyone! I've been conspiring with @sammy-jo1977 to create a new series of sorts. We want to explore all those characters that started us on our journey into Fandoms, large and small.

This series will be a place for those ladies and gents who haven't had a lot of attention recently, are old favorites or the ones you can't seem to shake. If you would like to contribute a chapter to this guide, please send me a message! We want to have a full and accurate guide, so we are hoping you'll hop in with your character of expertise!

As an example, I'm posting our first story... I'd love to get your thoughts! With Love - Your WordyNerdyGurl

In The Stacks - A Rupert Giles Story

Author’s Note:  This story is due, in large part, to my beta-bestie @sammy-jo1977 and it is part of the afore mentioned series.  This character might be off television, but his fiery spirit lives on!! As always, reblogs/ shares are encouraged as are comments and love!

Pairing:  Female Reader x Giles (Buffy The Vampire Slayer Series) Summary:  You get up to mischief with the librarian, in the stacks. Warnings:  SMUT ahead.  General Buffy knowledge might help, but is not required.  There’s a moment with a bit of blood, but hopefully nothing too triggering for anyone! I hope you enjoy!

“Mr. Giles?” “Just a moment!”  You heard the clipped British voice answer before being drowned out by the heavy thumping of falling books and the rustling sound of shifting papers hitting the floor. As you stepped further into the Sunnydale High library, you weren’t surprised to see the familiar faces of Buffy, Willow, Xander and Cordelia huddled around a small table.  The friends were practically inseparable and clearly close.  You found their kinship adorable and couldn’t help smiling at the group as you drew closer. “Hello to some of my best students!  And of course, to you Mr. Harris.  How is everyone today?”

Willow, stalwart student and overachiever, smiled broadly, “Pretty good.  I did ace my math quiz and got an A on my English paper… but, well, I only pulled a B on my Bio test and I just know that I could have done better.” Offering her friend a consoling pat to the shoulder, Buffy sighed, “It’s ok, Will.  You’ll get those cells next time!” “Tune in next week as Willow passes her AP Biology test with flying colors, on ‘As Sunnydale Turns’!” Before anyone could counter, Giles came around the corner carrying a sturdy stack of texts which he dropped onto the table as gently as the large load allowed, “As always, you four are the best assistants a librarian could ask for.” “Come on Giles!  You know I only hang out here for the beautiful ladies!” Pinching the bridge of his strong nose, Rupert Giles sighed, “I am well aware of where your interests lie, Xander.” “Please, he can hardly handle being with one beautiful girl.”  That was from Cordelia who pouted prettily, her hand mirror open as she fixed her hair. “My girlfriend, ladies and gentlemen!  Thanks for that, Cordy.” Snapping the case shut, staring down her beau, she smiled, “You’re welcome.” “Uh, Mr. Giles, if I may?”  You hated to interrupt but you had come in with a purpose and you meant to see it through. “Yes, of course, how can I help?” Shuffling your feet, a bit nervous now with the asking, you smiled shyly, “I asked at the local library but they were absolutely no help.  You see, I’m looking for a specific point of reference and I was led to believe that you could help me.” “Oh!  Is it something for our Inner Vision collage boards?  I love working on mine, only… It’s not my fault that I only see dark clouds and blood when I close my eyes.” “Well, Miss Summers, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.  And the best art challenges us to see that beauty.” “I hate to tell you what I see when I close my eyes.”  Xander retorted. “Ah, Mr. Harris, your collage certainly showcases your, ahem, cultured world view.” “Hey!  The Simpsons are fine art, ok?  Just because they don’t live in a museum doesn’t mean they aren’t culture.” Giles, unable to stand by any longer griped, “Xander, I am almost positive that cartoons do not count as culture.” You started to answer but Buffy cut you short, adding, “Don’t mind Giles.  If it doesn’t come out of some dirty, dusty old book it can’t be culture.” “It’s pop culture!  The entertainment of my generation!” It was your turn to cut in, turning to the tweed clad gentleman, “Actually, Mr. Giles, Xander has a point.  Cartoons and animation in general are all increasingly seen as valid forms of art.  No matter what your tomes might tell you.” Smirking a little, he appraised your answer before replying, “Be that as it may, Mr. Harris, the amount of television you consume is corrosive.” Raising his hands in defense, Xander’s head swiveled between the two of you as Willow chimed in, “Give it up, Xander.  You know you’ll never win and besides, I’m pretty sure that animation and art are different.  Wait.  They are, aren’t they?” “When I was in Rome last summer, the very attractive, very Italian tour guide told us that they’ve found painted graffiti on the Coliseum.  It only goes to prove that times change but people don’t.” “Cordy’s right!  About the art, not the dishy Italian.  And they didn’t paint it, they carved it.”  Bouncing her blonde hair decisively, Buffy made her declaration.   “Wouldn’t paint be easier?  I mean, who wants to carry a chisel in order to deface a wall?” “Oh!  Oh!  I know this!  The kind of paint needed to last for centuries hadn’t been invented yet!”  Willow, lifting out of her seat in the excitement of academic excellence, was giddy. “Yes, Willow, that is correct.  In fact, a lot of the graffiti is simple and very crude.  Mostly of the phallus, if memory serves.  I’m sure I can find a documented case in Agrippa if you’ll all just-” And you watched as everyone rolled their eyes as Giles trailed off, lost now in the hunt for a specific volume which could be sited, should further proof be needed. “Ew.  Pass.” “I’m with Buffy here, Giles.  Keep your Grecian graffiti out of my brain.” “I’ll stick with the Simpsons, thank you very much.” “Yes, well.  It’s not Grecian at all, is it?  It’s Roman-” Smiling broadly, Buffy hopped off the table, “Giles is right.  The Greeks were more into orgies!” “Buffy!”  Willow’s shocked response made you cover a laugh with a fake cough. “-Of course, cites are rare.  Very difficult to find documentation.”  Giles, typically, hadn’t given up the search. Cutting through the chatter, louder than it ever needed to be, the period bell sounded. "Ugh.  Gym class for me.  Why is this even a thing?" "I don't know Buffy, I thought you liked showing off in your little shorts and beating the boys at basketball." "Cordy, that's enough.  And while us boys do love looking at you, Buff... we don't love the beatings you regularly deliver." "Well, I have a free period Giles!  Do you want me to stay and -" Snapping shut the leather book he was gripping, Giles caught your eye and turned to the peppy student, "Uh, no Willow, I don't think so.  I believe I need to see what our Art Department is in need of at the moment." With a shrug, Willow began packing up her belongings as Xander slung his back back over his shoulder, "Will, you can come with me.  I'm going to find a nice little corner, under a tree, and sleep away my study hall." “But, I… I could help find the Agrippa?  Or… some other old Roman book?” Xander wrapped an arm around Willow and took Cordelia’s open hand, “But why do that when nothing calls?” "Another fine example of your scholastic aptitude, Mr. Harris", was your parting shot at the foursome as they walked out the door. "Well. Mr. Giles, now that we’re alone… Could I talk you into helping me out?" “Of course, of course.”  Pushing his glasses further up his nose, fixing his light eyes on yours, “What are we looking for?” Sighing deeply, knowing the chances were slim, “I was hoping we would find some examples of Pre-Columbian deity carvings.” Pausing, his look serious, Giles peered at you, “Interesting.  Anything in particular?” “Yes, actually.”  Again you flushed, more than a little flustered at what you were really looking for, “I’m researching fertility icons.” Raising his eyebrows, Giles started, more than a little outside of his comfort zone, but you had to give him credit.  He recovered from the shock rather quickly, “Oh… I… I see.  Well yes, I’m sure we can find… something.  If you’ll follow me, please.” “I’m right behind you.”  Biting into your bottom lip, you smiled to yourself.  Right behind Mr. Giles?  What a place to be.  Giles led the young art teacher through the deepest stacks of the library, pausing once or twice to confirm that she was keeping up with him.  He was ashamed to admit that he had lost travelers a time or two as he stalked through his overstuffed shelves, knowing instinctively where to find the book he needed most. For her, watching the tweed covered bottom of Mr. Giles was no hardship.  True, he was older and tad bit reserved in the best British way, yet she had the sneaking suspicion that underneath all the wool and starched cotton was the heart of a wild man poet. "Uh... just a bit further, I'm afraid.  Books like this, well, I keep them at a greater remove." "It makes sense.  Don't want the kiddos getting a hold of anything too tantalizing." "Of course not.  As you well know, they don't need much help in the libidinous response department." You chuckled softly, nodding as the air around you grew stuffier, "Too true!  You should see what some of them turn in and call art.  It would make a blind man blush." And at the mention of blushing, you were shocked to see a rosy hue grow on Mr. Giles' cheeks.  You liked it.  It reminded you of the high color in a Vermeer painting.  You couldn’t help the flutter in your belly at the thought, "Mr. Giles, have you ever seen a South American fertility statue?" "I can't say that I have... have... have you?"  Something about the idea of you examining an ancient artifact directly connected to sexual congress made his body stir.  "Hmm... Oh, yes.  I was able to study in Mexico for a semester.  Some of the art work is just incredible and the carvings, they're truly magnificent.  Carefully made.  Usually stone or..." swallowing hard, your throat suddenly dry, "hard wood." Breaking fast at the implication in your words, Giles froze in place which caused you to press directly against his broad, vest covered back.  You had a second to register the soft scent of his aftershave; something spicy and masculine, which made your mouth water.  Moaning quietly, you offered a weak apology, “Oh, I am so sorry, Mr. Giles.” Offering you his profile, the bookcases too cramped for him to turn around fully, you saw his sweet smile, “That’s… that’s quite alright.  In fact, we’re here.” Stepping out of the way, you pushed back against the opposite wall, the shelves digging into your spine in the confined space.  Giles bent over, giving you a great view of his backside, as he extracted a slim book from the bottommost ledge.  When he stood up, directly in front of you, the narrow, book covered alcove caused him to stumble. Giles’ chest collided with your own, forcing the air out of your lungs.  Instinctively, you lifted a leg, curling it over the swell of one trousered hip and lifting the hem of your knee length plaid kilt.  Nose to nose in a compromising position, you exhaled a shaky breath as Mr. Giles inhaled, “Close quarters around here.” Shifting under his deceptively hard figure, it was difficult to ignore all the places that were firm to the touch, especially when you could feel so much through the thin barrier of your cotton panties.  Bracing one arm on the obliging shelf biting into your shoulder, Giles pushed back a bit, lifting his weight off of you without making any other attempts to move away.  He was so close now.  Close enough to feel your fuzzy sweater and all the soft skin that trembled beneath it.  Close enough to see the pound of your pulse in your throat.  Close enough that when you licked over your bottom lip Giles could almost taste it too.  And why shouldn’t he?  “Giles?”  Your voice was whisper soft, fanning hotly over the face of your colleague. “Uh… yes?” “I’m stuck.” Blinking behind his thick lenses, it took the normally quick witted Brit a second to process your words, “You’re stuck?” Nodding slowly, your hair curling over your cheek, “My… My skirt.  It’s… uh, caught.  Caught on something behind me.” “Good heavens!  I’m so sorry, let me help you.”  Slowly, Giles lowered your bare leg to the floor, his hand lingering for a second longer than absolutely necessary.  He was still in your space.  Still incredibly close to you. You arched away from the bookcase in an attempt to free yourself with a groan that sounded heady in the stuffy stacks.  All you managed to do was force your sweater covered décolletage into Giles’ chest.  Stammering, a wave of sweat breaking over his brow, “Allow me?” The way your skirt was caught pulled the bright plaid lower on your waist than you would normally consider decent.  It meant that you had a fleshy strip of skin exposed along your tummy and Giles raised his eyebrows by means of asking permission to touch you.  “Yea, yes.  Please!” Tentatively, gently, you felt the strong fingers of Rupert Giles circle your waist and shivered at the unfamiliar familiarity of his touch.  Your chin rested on his shoulder as he worked and you couldn’t help sighing when he opened his hands and pulled you closer.  Under other circumstances you might have misunderstood the embrace but you were both professionals.  Not that you hadn’t considered the handsome book guardian a time or two before. “I… I think we’re almost there.  If you’ll just, maybe to the right?” “Um, sure.”  Following his directions you twisted in his arms, trying hard not to tear your outfit or rub against Giles.  All the close contact and talk of fertility gods had you feeling a little aroused and it wouldn’t do for your colleague to learn that fact. With a triumphant grunt, Giles set you free, only for gravity to kick back in.  The momentum created by your falling took the gentleman and the entire Grollier’s Gothic Almanac collection with you.  A cascade of papers, scrolls and dust rained down on you both. Coughing, aware that you were laying on something softer than the floor, you struggled into a sitting position, swatting away clouds of disintegrated pages, “Rupert?  Are you alright?” From beneath you a rumbling grumble that sounded like, “Yes quite… you?” was heard.  It was then that you realized exactly where you were.  Straddling your friendly neighborhood librarian, surrounded by debris, but safe, all the same. “Oh my!  I’m so-” “No, No.  Please, don’t apologize.  I’ve been meaning to reorganize this section and well, now it seems I’ve got no choice.” “You’ve got a bump.  Right here…”  Just over his right eye a small bruised egg, the color of lilacs, was starting to rise and you gingerly touched the swelling spot. “Then it will match the one on the back of my head perfectly.” “Poor Giles!  All of this injury in the name of research!” “No one ever tells you the dangers one might encounter in the library.” His dry British wit sent you both into giggles and suddenly nothing could be funnier than the moment you were in with Mr. Giles.  Looking up at you, his fingertip traced over your cheek, suddenly serious, “I’m not the only one with a war wound, it appears.” “Oh?”  Your hand covered his as you realized that you had a small cut, bleeding just a little, over the apple of your jaw.  Smoothing his thumb over your injury, Giles soothed you, saying, “Hush now, I think you’ll live.”  And you watched as Giles sucked the drop of scarlet from the pad there, his green eyes on yours, daring you.  Something about it was so… sinful.  So dark.  So alluring. Then his lips were on yours, suddenly and savagely.  Hands, firm and capable, slid under the fluff of your sweater along your spine as you tangled your own in his dark hair.  Giles, drawing you near, was satisfied only when you were splayed over him, writhing between the piles of text and stacks of piled paperbacks, as his tongue plundered your mouth. Trapped by his bent knees at your bottom, Giles helped center you over the firmness of his excitement, teasing you as you moaned, “Oh, oh Rupert!” “Call me Ripper.”  Before the word had left your throat, Giles was sloppily kissing over your neck, sucking lightly on the skin revealed by the v-neck of your top.  Sitting up quickly, you lifted the soft sweater over your head, tossing it away from you without concern.  Like one of the teenagers you might chastise, you then hugged your lover tight, gasping when you felt the nip of teeth over your bra.  “Giles… Uh, Ripper!  Please, go easy?”  With a hard grip on your upper thigh and one hand on the back of your neck, Giles held you still, smirking, “If you wanted easy you shouldn’t have come looking for fertility icons, my dear little art teacher.  And if this particular article of clothing-” He paused long enough to pinch at your hardening nipple before continuing, “-is dear to you, take it off.” Clenching your abdominals at his crass language, more turned on that you could remember, you reached behind you.  Unhooking the pretty scrap of lace and satin, you shyly covered yourself, biting into your bottom lip, “Fine… Ripper.  Should I be worried for my virtue?” “Absolutely.”  Without waiting for permission, Giles pulled your arms away, exposing your bare body to his blazing gaze, “You have nothing to hide, you know?  You are-” “Just shut up and kiss me, Ripper.”  And he did. Grinding your hips into his, it was impossible to ignore his hardening manhood, even through the fabric of his pressed trousers.  Giles cupped your bottom, under your skirt but over your panties, bouncing you in place as if he was already inside of you.  For your part, you tried to unbutton his pin striped shirt, but the force of his kisses was proving too distracting. “Oh, dear!  Poor thing been kissed senseless?”  He was teasing and cruel, but in the sexiest possible way. Red cheeked and huffing, you nodded, “Yes… let me touch you!” “Tsk… you didn’t say ‘please’.” “Please!  Please, Ripper!  Oh god, please let me!” Unseating you slightly, Giles leaned up on his elbows, cocking his head to one side as he took in the mess he had made of you, “Go ahead then.  Unzip my pants.” “What?” Removing his glasses, eyeing you darkly, “You heard me, I think.” Swallowing hard, your hands shaking with excitement, you reached for Giles’ belt.  Watching him, and only him, you slowly slide the leather from it’s buckle.  When you popped the button of his pants and let your hand drag over his hardened length, Rupert groaned and tossed his head back, “Yes.  Keep going.” Slowly, agonizingly so, you lowered the zipper as you were ordered to do, “What now, Ripper?” “Take me out.  I want you to feel what you do to me.” “I can do that.”  You played it cool, but the saucy words being said in that clipped British baritone did things to you.  They made your thighs tighten, your belly flutter and your breath catch.   Trailing a hand over Giles' barely exposed hip, you moved closer to the prize, your prize, as it pulsed with need.  Wrapping your hand around the meaty girth of Rupert's member, you couldn't help stroking the silky hot skin, so vital in your palm.  That it caused the man beneath you to moan your name only added fuel to the fire of your desire. Slick and sorely wanting, you licked your lips, ready to savor the flavor of your book stacking beau but he stopped you, saying, "Last chance to run back to the studio." "No way… Ripper."  And you felt a rough jerk as your panties were removed by force, the air cool on your overheated core.  Another kiss, full of needful things, distracted you as Giles parted your lower lips with his nimble fingers. Pumping into you, once, twice, just to ensure that you were ready, Rupert swiftly stretched your center.  With your small hand guiding his shaft, you lowered yourself onto the engorged tower of his power, crying out a ragged, "Oh God!" You thought you were capable of handling any man, but the delicious spread Giles' fine form forced you to endure was more than you expected.  Clutching at his bunched up sweater vest, your back arched tautly as Rupert dragged your hips down onto his unrelenting hardness over and over.   In your head, a rhythmic, tribal tattoo that made you think of ancient fires and curved statues took hold and you rose and fell against Giles on the beats vibrating through your brain.  He sensed it too, alternating his stroke, slowing down and speeding up in time with the thrumming pulse only the pair of you could hear.  "I want you to cum for me.  Do you understand?  Tell me you understand." "Yes!  Yes!  I'm so close, Ripper!  So close!" "Good.  That's very good."  Tingling now, your muscles tensed, ready for the release Rupert would provide.  You flung yourself onto his swollen sex without thought or reason, merely searching for the pleasure he had promised.  His thumb, so thick, so clever, pressed against your sensitive clit and your world imploded. Rupert felt it.  The moment your body and his melded together was forceful.  It tore his pleasure from his loins in grunting gasps as he experienced your ecstacy at his hands. Limp and listless, you draped your half nude body over his, dazed and drained.  Who knew screwing the librarian would feel this good?  In your post coital haze you started to laugh.  Giles, his hands roaming over the sweat soaked skin of your back, heard your chuckles and joined in.  It was another release, of sorts, and you found it almost as intimate as the act you had just committed. Folding your hands under your chin, flashing Rupert a wide smile, "Ripper, huh?" Sliding his glasses back into place and carding a hand through his hair, Giles grinned, "Oh, uh… yes.  Ripper.  My nickname in London." Toying with the collar of his shirt, "I'd love to hear about London sometime… Ripper." At the sound of that name in your voice, Rupert flexed inside of you, "Call me that again and you'll miss last period." Gasping against him, nodding weakly, "Hmm… promise?" That made him smile broadly as he handed you back your sweater, "We can't have a repeat of last week, can we?" "It wasn’t my fault you didn't hear the bell ring, Mr. Giles!" Sitting up, you fastened your bra and shrugged into your sweater before asking, "Did you have to destroy my undies?" "I'm afraid I did.  Although I told you to remove anything dear, didn't I?" "What am I gonna do for the next hour, Giles?" Pushing his glasses up, "I would advise you not to bend over." Swatting at him playfully, you used one of the sturdier shelves to stand, adjusting your skirt and fluffing your hair.  Looking around at the absolute mess created by falling books, embarrassed, you asked, "Can I help clean this up?" "No, I don't think that'll be necessary.  After all, Willow will be in-" "Along with Buffy and Xander and Cordelia.  Got it." Standing himself, Giles chuckled as he fastened his trousers and set himself to rights, "Precisely.  Now-" he bent over to retrieve a slim volume, "- The book you asked about.  Fertility iconography in Meso-American subcultures." "Thanks.  Ya know, I always enjoy coming to the library.  I'm surprised more people don't." Walking with you, his hand on your lower back, nuzzling into your neck, "I enjoy you cumming in the library." It was on the tip of your tongue to say something fresh when the overly loud bell clanged.  Lifting up on tiptoes you pressed a kiss to the goose egg over Giles' eye, saying, "I hope that makes it feel better!" Snagging you into a tight hug, Giles stared into your eyes before kissing you deeply, "That.  That makes it feel better." And then the library door swung wide on the four students who called the library a second home, "Um… are my eyes deceiving me or is Giles sporting a black eye?  I was only gone for an hour, big guy, what happened?" "If you must know, Xander, a shelf collapsed in the back.  We were fortunate enough not to be badly hurt but, there were some bumps and bruises." "A shelf!  Oh no… which one?!" Giles turned to Willow solemnly, "I'm afraid all the Grollier’s… and most of Crentist." "On it.  Come on Xander.  You can help me sort!" "Aw, gee.  That sounds like fun." As the pair trotted off, you turned to Giles, whispering low, "Dinner?  My place?  You can tell me about London, your childhood and why you love tweed." Eyeing Buffy, who was distracted and a distraught, Giles answered, "Tonight?  Um…" "He'd love to!  Say 9 o'clock?  And, he'll bring the wine."

Spinning on your heel, surprised that Buffy was your champion, you grinned, "Great!  Awesome!  I will see you then."

As you left you heard the bubbly blonde doling out instructions, "No Giles.  You can't wear that outfit to dinner!  You need to look nice.  Nicer than you do now.  Also, why is there so much dust in your hair?" If Giles answered you didn’t hear it over your big yawn.  You had a lot to do between now and 9 o’clock.  Rupert Giles was coming over for dinner and you could hardly wait.

------ Fin ------- I’m tagging my minxes, even though this is specifically NOT a Loki story.  I do want you guys to send me stories that might fall under the “Hot Characters” banner though!   Minxes:   @scrumptious-finicky-illusion​ @iamverity​ @mizfit2​ @sammy-jo1977​ @wolfsmom1​ @jessiejunebug​ @iluvsumbucky​ @unadulteratedwizardlove @procrastinatinglikeabitch @shxdowofdarkness​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @ahintofkiwistrawberry​ @alexakeyloveloki​ @rorybutnotgilmore​ @crystalizedcaramel​ @lokislittlecorner​ @capcapcapsicle @jamielea81​ @caffiend-queen​​ @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​​ @jenjen8675309​​ @that-one-person​​ @roguewraith​​ @toomanystoriessolittletime​ @vodka-and-some-sass​ @just-random-obsessions​ @brokenthelovely​ @lots-of-loki​ @thefallenbibliophilequote​

[wild-aloof-rebel]

In a candid conversation with the Star, Manji said “Schitt’s Creek” producers did not instruct him as to how Ray should sound.

“It is a very slight Indian accent — somebody who was probably raised in Canada, but probably was born in India or Pakistan,” he said from his home in Los Angeles.

“I don’t regret that because I think it actually works for Ray. He wasn’t like everybody else in that town. He was from somewhere else.”

Manji said he’s OK with viewers questioning his choices, but rather than focus on accents, he said, critics could ask why his character didn’t have a more fully developed story, like a relationship or a family.

“If you want to criticize something, do that,” he said. “We need to have three-dimensional characters.”

[full article text below the cut]

At the start of Rizwan Manji’s acting career in the 1990s, the only roles available to him were those playing convenience store clerks and cab drivers. The parts usually required him to fake an Indian accent — just for laughs.

“We would joke about it. ‘This is so offensive, this is so offensive,’” recalls the Toronto native. “It’s not like we didn’t know.”

More than two decades later, Manji’s grin-and-bear-it perseverance has paid off. At 46, Manji now boasts a long — and diverse — list of TV and film credits. In September, he joined castmates from the hit CBC comedy series “Schitt’s Creek” in celebration as the show nabbed a record-breaking nine Emmy Awards.

That doesn’t mean, however, he still doesn’t grapple with questions about his acting choices.

While “Schitt’s Creek,” about a wealthy family that loses its fortune and is forced to move to a backwater town, won raves for its messages of inclusivity and positive queer representation, a segment of viewers took to social media to criticize Manji’s character, Ray Butani, the town’s bumbling jack of all trades — who speaks with an accent.

What irked them was that Ray, one of the few recurring people of colour on the show, seemed like a caricature — a rehash of the stereotypical, emasculated South Asian male. They also complained that Manji’s accent came across as “cringey.”

“Why go to the effort of writing in a character with an Indian name, played by an Indian actor, whose main personality trait is that he is stupid and has an accent?” Rishi Maharaj, a Port Hardy, B.C., engineer and avid TV viewer, wrote on Twitter days after the show’s Emmy sweep.

Across North America’s TV and film industry, there is broad consensus about the need to fight stereotypes and offensive tropes in casting. But the debate among actors of colour over whether they should fake accents remains fraught.

Some Hollywood actors, such as Aziz Ansari and John Cho, have reportedly turned down roles, citing the history of Hollywood playing up accents for laughs. (Think Mickey Rooney’s portrayal of Mr. Yunioshi in the 1961 romantic comedy “Breakfast at Tiffany’s,” complete with taped eyelids, buck teeth and cartoonish accent).

They worry that parts requiring them to speak with accents do nothing to help the cause of minority actors who are often typecast in secondary roles or as sidekicks, and who continue to be under-represented on TV and film.

Others say it’s important to represent linguistic diversity and see no harm portraying characters who speak in broken English, as long as their accent is not the butt of a joke and in keeping with a character’s backstory.

In a candid conversation with the Star, Manji said “Schitt’s Creek” producers did not instruct him as to how Ray should sound.

“It is a very slight Indian accent — somebody who was probably raised in Canada, but probably was born in India or Pakistan,” he said from his home in Los Angeles.

“I don’t regret that because I think it actually works for Ray. He wasn’t like everybody else in that town. He was from somewhere else.”

Manji said he’s OK with viewers questioning his choices, but rather than focus on accents, he said, critics could ask why his character didn’t have a more fully developed story, like a relationship or a family.

“If you want to criticize something, do that,” he said. “We need to have three-dimensional characters.”

The character that has generated one of the most heated debates in recent years when it comes to accents is Apu, the Indian-American shopkeeper on the long-running animated series “The Simpsons.” Until recently, the thick-accented character was voiced by actor Hank Azaria, who is white.

In 2017, American comedian Hari Kondabolu came out with a documentary, “The Problem With Apu,” in which he pressed the case that the show fomented racial stereotypes about Indian people.

In interviews at the time, Kondabolu shared that, as a kid, Apu was “the only Indian we had on TV” and that he was happy for “any representation.” But then on the playground, he had to deal with kids mimicking Apu’s accent.

In the documentary, he gets Dana Gould, a former writer on the show, to admit, “There are accents, that by their nature, to white Americans, sound funny. Period.”

With criticism mounting, Azaria, who had voiced Apu for three decades, announced he was stepping away from the role, telling the New York Times earlier this year: “Once I realized that that was the way this character was thought of, I just didn’t want to participate in it anymore.”

There is growing sensitivity among artists, writers, directors and producers to avoid stereotypes and invest in “fully humanized, realized characters,” Steven Eng, an actor and voice and speech instructor at New York University, told the Star.

“There’s certainly been a whole history — that I don’t think any of us can deny — in film and television and the theatre where characters were stereotyped,” he said. “I think there’s so much more awareness, so much more determination to not go that route.”

But even “groundbreaking” shows, such as “Kim’s Convenience” and the recently cancelled “Fresh Off the Boat,” which were heralded for elevating Asian-Canadian and Asian-American visibility and immigrant experiences, have not escaped criticism, accused by some viewers of employing storylines and accents that do not ring true.

Cast members, in turn, leapt to the defence of their shows — and their accents.

“Some people are like, ‘Oh, stereotypical accent!’” Constance Wu, lead actress on “Fresh Off the Boat,” told Time magazine regarding her character’s Taiwanese accent. “An accent is an accent. If there were jokes written about the accent, then that would certainly be harmful. But there aren’t jokes written about it. It’s not even talked about. It’s just a fact of life: immigrants have accents.”

Paul Sun-Hyung Lee, the lead actor in “Kim’s Convenience” told Maclean’s his character’s Korean accent is “part of who he is, but it isn’t the joke.”

“Yes, we’re in the entertainment field, and we will mine some of that because it is situational humour. You will get a point where we’ll say, ‘Here’s where some fun can be made, playing with the accent, and his inability and people mishearing what he says.’ But at the same time, that’s not all it is,” he said.

Jimmy O. Yang, who starred in the HBO series “Silicon Valley” and whose character spoke with a heavy Chinese accent, told Huffington Post the key is to portray immigrants with humanity.

“It’s maybe a better thought to change the perception of an accent than to avoid it all together,” he said. “I take offence (when people don’t go for parts with accents) ― it’s like saying, ‘I’m better than my immigrant brother with an accent.’”

Yang added he drew inspiration from his mom and relatives in Shanghai to develop his accent for the show. “It’s not just a (lousy) impression of a Cantonese Bruce Lee accent.”

Still, some actors have declared outright they will not do it.

“For me, personally, any time I’ve been asked to do that, I feel like — it feels like it’s making fun of people that have that accent if I do it and don’t have that voice,” comedian Aziz Ansari told NPR in 2015, years before he faced a public allegation of sexual misconduct.

“It feels like you’re doing it so white people can laugh at Indian people,” he said at the time.

That’s kind of how Maharaj felt watching Ray on “Schitt’s Creek.”

“I did find it cringey. The first thought that came to mind was it reminded me of Apu in ‘The Simpsons,’” he told the Star.

In The Problem With Apu, South Asian-American comedian Hari Kondabolu confronts his long-standing “nemesis” Apu Nahasapeemapetilon – better known as the Indian convenience store owner on The Simpsons. Creator and star Kondabolu discusses how this controversial caricature was created, burrowed its way into the hearts and minds of Americans, and continues to exist – intact – nearly three decades later. Featuring interviews with Aziz Ansari, Kal Penn, Whoopi Goldberg, W. Kamau Bell, Aasif Mandvi, Hasan Minhaj, Utkarsh Ambudkar, Aparna Nancherla

“To me what it sounds like is what a person from Saskatoon thinks a person from India sounds like. ... I’m sure he could’ve been a funny part of that show without an accent.”

Maharaj wasn’t alone. Arif Silverman, an actor and playwright in New York, posted a lengthy Facebook post in October sharing his conflicted feelings about the show.

“Schitt’s Creek has become one of my all-time favourite shows. But they did their South Asian characters dirty,” he wrote.

“Especially Ray, who plays directly into the racist South Asian trope of being an emasculated, goofy buffoon who no one takes seriously, not least in part because of his accent.”

Silverman told the Star Ray’s accent seemed “part of the joke” and struck him as a “betrayal” from a show that preached inclusivity and whose main romance was a gay love story.

“I’m half South Asian — my mother is from Bangladesh. … And so I think a lot about representation of South Asians in the media,” he said. “If you’re really going to talk about inclusivity it can’t be at anyone’s expense.”

Manji says he faced a lot of struggles as a brown actor at the start of his career.

Back then, he was often pigeonholed into narrow roles, such as the cabbie or 7-Eleven store clerk. One hundred per cent of his roles required him to fake a South Asian accent.

“It was very strictly, like, the joke was on the accent,” he said.

But he accepted the parts because he needed the work.

He did draw a line with one type of role.

“I’m Muslim, so I was more the guy who was like, ‘I’m not being the terrorist.’”

There was one time, however, when he auditioned to play an Islamic Studies professor on the show “24.” He was given limited information about the character. It turned out he was a bomb maker.

But the money was too good to pass up. He took the part.

“I rationalized it in my head, ‘Oh, it’s season 8, and they have good Muslim characters. … I don’t know if I made the right decision,” he said.

“To be clear, I’m OK with being the bad guy. I’d love to play the bad guy. It’s just when it’s this kind of thing where you’re screaming ‘Allahu akbar’ and bombing people.”

In 2010, Manji was cast in the short-lived NBC sitcom “Outsourced” set in an Indian call centre. He and his castmates employed accents, which some critics derided for lack of authenticity.

It’s fine if people want to criticize the quality of the accents, he said, but it wouldn’t have made sense for these characters not to have accents.

“The show was shooting in America about living in India. I don’t know what the other option was,” he said, adding that he channelled his father in developing the accent for that show.

Another thing to keep in mind is that accents have to be understandable to North American audiences, Manji said. For instance, during the filming of the movie “Charlie Wilson’s War,” Manji, who played a Pakistani colonel, said he settled on a “sweet spot” where his accent “sounds foreign” but is “not so thick that it becomes comedic or unintelligible.”

Manji said he did not have to audition for “Schitt’s Creek” but was offered the role of Ray, the town’s real estate agent, travel agent, photographer and Christmas tree salesman.

When he went for his first table read in Toronto, he’d had no prior discussion with the show’s writers or producers about what Ray would sound like.

Because most of his demo tape consisted of his work on “Outsourced,” Manji assumed that was the kind of voice producers were looking for. He went with a slightly toned-down version.

“Afterwards, I went up to Dan (Levy, the show’s co-creator) and said, ‘Hey just want to check in.’ He said, ‘I love what you did. It was funny.’ That ended up being the character for six years.”

Maharaj says he can’t help but feel Manji was selling himself short — playing to what he thought “a white audience might expect or respond more favourably to” to get the job. He likens it to job applicants of Asian descent who anglicize their names on resumes.

“I’m encouraged to hear he had agency, that they weren’t like, ‘We need you to do the accent,’” he said.

“I’d feel better if they were asking him to do a British accent or Brooklyn accent because if you’re doing this Indian accent and the character is comedic, it is nonetheless playing into that trope.”

Levy, who is also from Toronto, declined an interview request. Instead, he released a statement through his publicist.

“Ray was conceived as a character of Indian decent which we cast with Canadian-born actor Rizwan Manji, who is of Indian decent. No accent was called for in the casting or specified in the scripts,” it said.

“The thoughtful choices that Rizwan made in his portrayal in the audition room perfectly encapsulated the warmth and the energy of Ray. All characters on our show were created with love, respect and humanity. It has been gratifying to have these intentions reflected through the overwhelming audience support for these characters. That said, I welcome any perspectives that encourage conversations about diversity, especially in entertainment.”

Despite what critics might think, Manji said he has felt more empowered in recent years to make creative decisions about his characters.

Manji, who had a role in NBC’s musical comedy “Perfect Harmony,” which was cancelled this year, said when he was approached about playing the part of a pastor, he was the one who initiated the idea of giving the character a foreign accent.

Because the character was raised by missionaries, it wouldn’t have made sense for him to not have one.

Conversely, when he was asked a couple years ago to read for a pilot for a dramatic series in which his character was a Muslim father he told the casting director he didn’t want to do an accent.

“I said, ‘You know what? I’d rather not. That’s not going to excite me about this part,’” he said.

“I ended up getting the job. I found my voice.” (The pilot never made it to series).

Manji, who guesses about 60 per cent of his roles in more recent years have involved accent work, says remarks by actors who refuse to do accents are “dangerous” because they could end up limiting the types of roles available to minority actors.

His worry is casting directors will go to India in search of authentic accents, overlooking North American-born actors, like him.

“I’m already marginalized.”

Nobody fusses when Meryl Streep performs with an accent, he adds.

Ishani Nath, a freelance entertainment and lifestyle journalist in Toronto, says anytime she sees an accented character who also provides comedic relief, it raises a bit of a red flag.

But she’s hesitant to criticize actors for taking those roles, knowing that opportunities are not easy to come by.

“I’m way more interested in criticizing writers, producers, (and asking): Why are you asking for these roles to be accented? … Is there an actual reason and backstory?”

Nath says she is starting to notice deeper conversations about how different cultures are represented on screen and what nuances can be added to make characters more complex.

She says a good example of this is the hit movie “Crazy Rich Asians,” whose actors exhibited a range of regional Asian accents.

“It’s important to note that the problem with accent roles isn’t the accents themselves — plenty of characters in ‘Crazy Rich Asians’ have accents, but no one has the exaggerated or generic ‘Asian’ accent that has historically been played for laughs in Hollywood,” she wrote in a 2018 article in Flare.

Jhanik Bullard, a writer and member of BIPOC TV & Film, a collective of Black, Indigenous and people of colour working in Canada’s entertainment industry, says it is no longer acceptable for characters to have accents “just because.”

“It should actually have an authentic origin as to why this character sounds the way they sound,” he said.

Audiences are also not as forgiving as they may have been in the 1990s if the accent sounds botched or inauthentic.

What is encouraging, he says, is that more doors are being opened for people of colour to tell their stories and there are more platforms for those stories to be to told.

To that end, Manji says he and his partners have initiated a handful of projects that are in various stages of development. One is a show about a Muslim guy who becomes mayor of a major city. Another is a sitcom about a “normal Muslim family” — something that “resembles me more.”

Does the character he envision for himself speak with an accent?

“Since I want it to be closer to me, then I would say not.”

[sideshow-wolfie]

Coming Out...

I've been happy with these terms for so long, I feel like I need to express it to you... Even if it felt a bit painful...

I'm proud to announce that I'm Genderfluid. I've been having a Gender Dysphoria for a long time, since 2 months into my Sophomore (11th) year, and I finally found out who I truley was... Previously I was Demigirl, meaning I was full girl, but different. THAT didn't suit me anymore as I got to February... I just went off as genderless, Aka Nonbinary. Nonbinary suited me for a little bit, until that wasn't the case either as Spring Break started. I looked through the information, and I finally found out why my Gender Identity changed constantly... In the end of April I discovered I was Genderfluid... What does that mean?

My gender identity changes around infinitely, and it concludes that my gender was never meant to be confirmed.... I was previously a girl, but I'm fine with They/Them Pronouns. ❤️

Here's an example:

Day 1: Nonbinary

Day 2: Bigender

Day 3: Pangender

Day 4: Demigirl

Day 5: Transgender

and the gender list goes on and mixes around everyweek and day.

Lastly, for the gender part, I have been connected to wolves for so long.. both mentally and physically.. so long that I did not realize what I was until now. (I was like this all the way back in 2012, when I was in elementary)

I kept thinking I was something else. I constantly howled when I'm home alone, and that I wish I had someone to do it with me... And I bark, like other wolves or werewolves...

Not that I'm Genderfluid, but I am also WolfGender. WolfGender means that I connect with Lycanthrope/Wolf/Werewolf Life, and that I was a wolf in the first place...

I have been questioning to myself if I was always going to be with a boy, girl, whoever else, or remain single for the rest of my life when I was a girl...

In 2014, I had watched a show that eventually made me feel this... attraction to people.

You guessed it...

Inanimate Insanity

But so to let you know, it is NOT season 1. It is season 2.

The character that started to make me attracted to a gender was Microphone... Microphone was a hyped contestant, but eventually things got deep for her... I had loved this character for 6 1/2 years, and I kept constantly drawing her as a werewolf... Whenever I drew Mic, I felt happy. When I was 10 years old, I got a T-Shirt of her... My god I felt like life was complete ❤️

Throughout Middle School, I have had my first relationship with someone... Zero was my first crush that I had ever hung out. However, long story short, we broke up due to multiple toxic reasons (Involving me, and It was my fault...).

That took me a whole year to move on, and breakups aren't that easy to get over sometimes. I thought I couldn't be happy anymore, until I found Cory...

Cory was also a girl, like how I was... We both met on deviantart, and we would always hang out with each other. We both liked the same thing, and we like the same kinks (Aagh, I apologize for mentioning!!), But they weren't NSFW, don't worry! Me and Them would always chat on Discord... But then I developed a crush on them... Cory felt suprised when I told them how I was starting to feel... It had been 2 years since I fell in love with someone, and I was happy that the feeling came back.

However, we didn't start a relationship just yet... and was called off early a week after I told them in March, due to the fact they were shy... I understood that feeling. What honestly almost lost my future was the prom. Originally, Cory DID have a prom date to celebrate their night, but he cheated on them for another female... When they told me that he cheated on them, I knew It was time for me to become who I was meant for...

I wanted to be a Lesbian for the rest of my life... And it was my time to have that chance again... I was NOT desperate, but I wanted to make our future into a perfect never-ending chapter... We got together in April 2020 (during the COVID-19 pandemic), and I am happy to announce that we are still a couple! Though there ARE a few changes...

Cory eventually became Genderqueer and Bisexual, because they fell in love with a person (which is now a girl), and... I kinda felt anxious, but hey, it's all settled... Cuz, love is love.

I became Genderfluid, but I mainly identified as a boy, and considered to myself as Gay (I still did NOT want to be reminded of my previous relationship with Zero nor the Guy that had used me for Sexual Assault).

Both of us had felt more... And I realize that Love can and will be infinite 💙❤️🖤♾

So Everyone, Yes I am gay, but I'm also Polyamorous! Unfortunately it IS illegal in the United States, so this is why I'm not telling my school or my family about this... They do accept me for being Gay, but not the Polyamorous part. Again, I'm not telling them I'm Poly, in order to keep myself from being attacked and teased.

To Finalize my Coming Out Blog, I am also feeling attracted to something else... Kinda like how I fell in love with Microphone, but was from another show.

The show was called The Simpsons.

The Simpsons is one of the oldest animated sitcoms, yet it is still the funniest hits I had ever watched from Fox. Without them, I wouldn't have typed this final part...

However, I was not attracted to Marge, Homer, Lisa or anybody... In fact I was in love with a phsycopath... It isn't Snake Jailbird, or Homer's Killer...

I'm In love with Sideshow Bob (Robert Terwilliger).

At that moment when I felt flattered whenever he spoke, or was shown in some scenes of the show (old and new seasons, EXCEPT FOR HIS OLDER APPEARENCE)... I had drawn him for the first time, but it was kinda crappy, because I never drew a Simpsons character in my life. When I was younger I drew Itchy and Scratchy... For a while I stopped... I had a crush on both Itchy and Scratchy... Now it's that Palm Tree Haired Cutie. ❤️

I suddenly got curious if it was possible to love an character like him as a babe... Google gave me and answer, and It found out what my puzzle was.. it's not Bisexual, which I kinda figured...

Apparently, I am Fictosexual. I am in love with animated characters, whether from an adult animated show, teen animated, and POSSIBLY all-family animated show... Which Technically for me, I would always lay my heart on Bob's.

In Conclusion, it's ok to love who you care about, and what you care about, and it is okay to be true to yourself. You can be who you are, and who you think will make you happier, even if it is animated X3

Happy Pride, everyone! YOU ARE ALL VALID!!

#LoveIsLove