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#his line delivery. chefs kiss
thebigqueer · 5 months
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i would love to have the poodle scene where annabeth and grover are like 'say hi to teh poodle percy' and hes like 'im not saying hi to it' and annabeths like 'SAY IT' and hes like 'hello poodle' because i already know walker would do it so perfectly. i can already see adamancy in his eyes when he insists he will not say hi. i can already see the exasperation in his eyes saying hello to the poodle. i need that scene so bad just to see walker do it becuase i KNOW hed do it better than ill ever have imagined
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evocatiio · 10 months
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HAROLD PERRINEAU as BOYD STEVENS FROM (2022 - present)
You're a terrible fucking priest. You know that? Fucking worst. Now I'm cursing in the house of the Lord. What the fuck is this?
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casmick-consequences · 8 months
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honestly the most underrated part that doesn't get talked about often enough
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sbd-laytall · 2 years
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redhead-reporter · 1 year
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mj: if we don't help those people, they could die peter: so could you - i CAN'T let that happen
piece of evidence #86353 that, had it been mj instead of may who was teetering on the brink of death, peter would've used up the devil's breath cure to save her. because mary jane watson is THE exception to peter's strict moral code and sense of greater duty. even if it compromises him, even if it hurts other people, he will put her and her safety above EVERYTHING ELSE because she is the one thing he needs and he's too selfish to let anything happen to her.
in this essay, i will-
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No idea if this opinion is controversial, but the current West End cast >>>> the OBC
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guardian-angle22 · 1 year
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↳ requested by anon
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piescreemking · 1 year
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"I will not be complicit in the illicit use of ill-gotten booty."
-Our autistic, powerful, babygirl Paladin, Xenk Yendar
(the way Regé sells this line is just *chef's kiss*, his deadpan delivery kills me.)
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upsidedownwithsteve · 8 months
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CH10. Cheque, Please! | The Menu [2.2K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.
ONE YEAR LATER
The diner was packed. 
Tables were full, the large room a buzz of chatter and music, the speakers playing an old sixties bop. It was a familiar sight, one that happened more often than not since Jim sold the diner. The new owner ripped the place apart, down to its old bones before he put his life savings into it. 
New floors, new tables and chairs, artwork on the walls that were signed by Argyle, a photo of the whole staff taken and framed by Jonathan, Jim Hopper at the forefront, a wide smile on his face on the last day before his retirement. The bulbs in the neon sign outside had been replaced so it no longer flickered, the green and blue glow of it now announcing the diner’s new name, proud and bright for everyone to see. 
Eddie’s Slice Of Chicago. 
“Door! Behind!” You yelled out as you entered the kitchen empty plates piled high in your arms and Jonathan took them from you with practised ease. 
Steve was on the grill, still hesitant and not as fast as Argyle, but he was flipping burgers quicker than he had last week. His chef whites were brand new, his name badge shiny and his front of house position taken over by Nancy. Everyone was in new uniforms, freshly pressed and a sage green, aprons still without stains and a pocketful of pens that didn’t run out of ink too quickly. Robin was taking orders, laughing with a family from out of town, letting their toddler grab at her finger as she promised them to return soon with their pizzas and shakes. Dustin was helping Max run a large order to a table of backpackers, a border collie under the table at their feet, getting its ears scratched by the new start, Mike. 
There was a sign on the staff notice board, up beside the employee of the month, a piece of ripped paper with the words “SIXTY FOUR DAYS SINCE THE LAST FREEZER BREAKDOWN.” The rest of the space was filled with staff photos, polaroids and prints of the group at a fourth of July picnic, a barbecue at Jim’s in the summer, huddled around the kitchens countertops in the winter, drinking from mugs filled with Argyle’s homemade horchata, the frame that held Billy’s scrawled termination letter, an old napkin that held a small conversation in pen. 
It felt more like home than ever. Even when Eddie wasn’t there. 
Everyone answered to you in his absence, unofficially in charge when the boss wasn’t here. It had taken some getting used to, hell, you’d even tried to pawn off the responsibility to Nancy, or Steve, anyone who’d been at the grill longer than you had. But Nancy was part time, back at college during the week, taking Robin on dates in the evenings and Steve was too busy being trained as a new prep chef to worry about invoices and deliveries. 
So you stepped into the role cautiously, softening to the idea when Eddie kissed you something fierce and told you that there wasn’t anyone else he trusted to do the job. His acceptance letter had come the month after taking over the diner. A thick, white envelope that lay heavy on your doormat because he’d finally moved in, sharing your small apartment with you like he did everything else. 
Clothes. Jewellery. Books. Records. Food. Kisses. 
Vincennes University offered Eddie the chance to do what he hadn’t been able to before. Refining his craft, learning new skills, working in a state of the art kitchen with equipment he’d come home and gush to you about. The diner was doing well enough that tuition wasn’t a worry anymore and suddenly, the long commute into Indianapolis for classes four days a week seemed worth it. Eddie was passing with flying colours, receiving accolades and opportunities at every given moment and when he came home, exhausted but happy, he came home to you. 
Bone tired, he’d slip into the apartment, socked feet padding gently over the floorboards, Tupperware full of something delicious to be stacked in the fridge. He’d find you curled up somewhere, a black cat called Basil in the nook of your bent legs. He’d kiss you sweet, he’d kiss you soft, warming you up to a simmer until you forgot how much you’d missed him that day. 
It was all worth it. 
“Table eighteen wants extra hash browns and booth six needs two pepperoni’s and the Hawkins special, chefs,” you called to Steve as you slapped the orders onto the bar. 
“Got it,” Steve and Argyle called back, one a little more nervously than the other but it was okay, ‘cause Eddie was home soon. 
Eddie was home soon. 
He’d called from a pay phone outside of the school, voice buzzing with excitement, with pride, and yours mirrored his back. He’d be on the train soon, he’d meet you at the apartment, if you could get away early. So you handed your keys to Nancy and she grinned, knowing there was a cause for celebration waiting at home for you. You drove Eddie’s van back along the road, coming into town on the familiar stretch, passing Wayne’s, the trailer park you both visited every Sunday for dinner. 
The apartment door was unlocked, dimly lit in the early fall gloom, already smelling like garlic and tomatoes, like fresh bread and the scent of Eddie cologne that lingered on his jacket that hung in the hallway. Eddie’s records were in the shelves by your books, his guitar hanging from a hook in the tiny office room, his shoes on the bench by the door. He’d transformed your kitchen when he’d moved in, a decision that had been all too easy to make. There were  pots and pans hanging from the rack, shiny, sharp knives that he was scared of you using without him there, jars and tubs of ingredients stacked high in the fridge and the pantry. There were fresh herbs in planters on the window sill. The radio always played. 
The kitchen always felt like the heart of the home. 
That’s where you found Eddie, sweater sleeves rolled up and grinning at you from the stove top, a large spoon in hand as he mixed in some fresh rosemary to the pot of sauce. He greeted you with a glass of wine, the cheap stuff that you liked best, catching you in a kiss before you could bring the cup to your lips. 
He kissed you soft, kissed you sweet, humming when you laughed into his mouth, his free hand slipping inside of your shirt to ghost his fingers over your ribs. 
“Hi,” you whispered. You’d never tire of this. This warmth, this kind of greeting, this feeling of coming home. “Good day?”
Eddie nodded, stealing another kiss, catching the corner of your mouth. He gazed at you, eyes shining with excitement and you could practically feel the buzz in his bones for what he was about to say. 
“I got it.”
You blinked, once, before your smile turned into a grin and it stretched wide. You barely had the common sense to place your wine on the countertop before you launched yourself at the boy, your arms wound round his neck as your crushed your face into his curls. Eddie whooped, a joyful thing as he lifted you off your feet and grinned against your throat. 
“You got it,” you whispered back to him, everything in you frilled with awe and pride. 
“I got it,” he repeated again. His voice sounded thick. 
The internship with Chef Emmelie was something that everyone in Eddie’s class was vying for. Eddie had spent an insane amount of time on his application, using you as his own personal taste tester in both work and home. New recipes were concocted, old dishes were reworked and it had all paid off. Eddie had been hand picked to work alongside one of the country’s greats, assisting in setting up a new restaurant, a fine dining establishment that promised to deliver nothing but the best cuisine to the masses. Eddie would help create the menu, and hopefully, maybe, eventually, take over as head chef. 
It was another level of surreal. 
“I knew you would,” you mumbled into his neck, pulling back only to crush Eddie’s cheeks in the palms of your hands and give him a kiss that ducked his breath away. His lips tasted salty, but perhaps that was your own tears you could taste. Eddie just held onto you tighter, his stew mix bubbling away without any attention. “Where is it? Have they told you where you’re setting up?”
You’d held Eddie’s hand as he clutched his application letter and promised him that no matter where they sent him, you’d follow. The only thing that tied you to Hawkins, was the boy and Basil was easy enough to smuggle into a cat carrier, once you could catch him. Wayne had squashed any hesitancy from Eddie immediately, waving him off and saying that there would be private jets for each of you once he hit the big time as the new celebrity chef. And of course, there was the diner. 
Eddie laughed then, a breathy, disbelieving thing and he finally shuffled to settle you onto the small dining table that sat in the corner of the kitchen. He nudged his way in between your legs, sniffling when Basil appeared to wind around his own ankles and the only sounds were the purring of the cat and the simmering of dinner. You held your breath, brows raised, expectant. 
London? Dubai? Paris? Los Angeles?
“They wanna set up in Chicago.”
—————
Going back to the city you left was a lot less daunting with Eddie by your side. 
Wayne moved out of the trailer park and into your apartment, something that made leaving a little easier for Eddie. He still owned the diner, and promised to stop by at least a few times a month if scheduling around the new restaurant would allow. He’d found a new manager, a woman from town called Joyce who loved to bake and knew enough about taxes and accounting that she didn’t fuck up order and invoices. She loved the place like Eddie did, promised she’d do it proud. 
(She met Jim on Sunday in summer and after she served him her famous cherry cheesecake, one date in the park had turned into three, into five and now they were inseparable. They spent most of their time walking around town, visiting farmers and Jim enjoyed his retirement by helping Joyce create new desserts for the diner.)
Eddie’s internship came with an apartment in the suburbs, a small townhouse that was far enough from the hustle of the city that you felt more at home than before. It was less bright, less loud and Basil had a garden to roam in, a bench beside a vegetable patch he could bathe in the sun from. 
It had a pantry and old oak floors, a huge window that looked out onto the street that was lined with cherry trees, and a nook in the living room that you liked to read in. You found a job, pretty easily, a vintage bookstore on the edge of town that smelled like coffee and cinnamon, old pages and older stories. It was owned by an old man who let his dog sleep under the front desk, who brought in pastries for breakfast and made you sweet tea in the summer. 
The restaurant opened in the spring. Hit headlines the following day, praising the special on the menu made by newcomer chef, Edward Munson. By the summer, the heat was climbing and so was Eddie’s popularity. He was running the restaurant, got to create a new menu every six weeks and the waitlist was booked out until Christmas. He told you he loved you every time you paid him a visit, on your lunch break, a whisper between a kiss hello and goodbye in the kitchen, coy whistles from his staff that he burned pink at. 
And when you both drove back to Hawkins for long weekends and holiday stays, you crammed yourselves and Basil into your old apartment with Wayne, packed his freezer full of food and tried to convince him to take in one (maybe two) of the strays from the trailer park to keep him company. 
You spent the Fourth of July with the diner crew, in the backyard of Jim and Joyce’s new home, sharing Polaroids and newspaper clippings of the restaurant, of your new home, Eddie’s menu. Steve was in awe but nothing could beat the look of pride on your boyfriend’s face when Steve told him he’d mastered a French omelette. Argyle was running the kitchen, Nancy had been promoted to assistant manager, part time or not, and Robin had helped Jonathan in running a Sunday morning coffee club, where Hawkins residents got to taste test new bean flavours over a pastry breakfast and some town gossip. 
Eddie didn’t scowl much, not anymore. 
And when you next bumped into Chrissy, you waved at her from under the tuck of Eddie’s arm, diamond ring glinting on your left hand in the sun. She didn’t have much to say to you, not after that. 
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ireneaesthetic · 14 days
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Pointing out little moments and details of scenes that need to be remembered.
library scene • episode 1
their expressions softening and smiles growing bigger as soon as their eyes meet. oh the effect of each other’s presence!!!
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wille's staring contest and the lip bite while approaching give off so much confidence. he leans in for the kiss like it's all he's been waiting for - everyone is watching and yet he sees and cares about anyone anything but simon.
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simon dives into the kiss just as quickly. it starts out as shyyy but you can see the tension easing through his body language.
it’s a second first kiss for them in a way bc it's their first public one: the thrill, the excitement, the butterflies - it's all there. for this huge step to come from wille makes it even more special.
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it’s a super tender kiss, with simon’s hand ending up on wille’s chest. background noises fading away to enhance the sound of their lips is so on point: none of that truly matters bc in this moment it's - them.
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first they kiss and then greet with a proper hej *giggling*.
lip biting is serious business in this scene. simon's shows a lot of embarrassment tho - he comes out of their own bubble and suddenly becomes very aware of people's chatter.
shoutout to felice and maddie in the background not giving a damn about it ahsjsj.
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wille pulling simon by the hand in such a hurry is funny and so him. he literally says 'ok folks you've seen enough, i want him just for myself now'.
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ugh i love parallels in this show sooo much. they alone tell the whole story!
same spot but different point in their relationship: so distant in s2 - both physically/emotionally - and couldn't be seen or heard so they were hyper attentive; deeply connected on all levels in s3 instead, the focus is solely on each other, reaching for comfort by holding hands. the coloring tells the same plot too: cold and dull tones first but much warmer ones in s3.
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simon side eyeing the hallway but turning to wille is enough to reassure him and ease the discomfort.
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hands intertwined with the key chain in such a ‘fuck 'em, this is about us’ way is a genius move.
wille’s whole posture is extremely relaxed - one arm behind his back, the other hand holding simon’s, his legs crossed. it’s a breath of fresh air to finally see him acting this loose and unbothered around people. he's also the one who helps simon feeling much more comfortable here too.
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not much to point out, i just needed to gif simon’s bambi eyes and wilhelm being mesmerized by his face.
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hela terminen's line delivery is honestly *chef’s kiss*. they care to keep their voices low throughout the scene and then -
i have a thing for height difference so this shot is everything to me. it's peak head over heels boyfriends behavior!
wilhelm is stronger than me bc i would've kissed simon right on the spot if he tilted his head up like that.
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shhh they’re cuddling.
the forehead touch with closed eyes and content smiles. this is basically what i've always loved the most about them - the state of pure bliss they're in only when with each other.
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simon's eyes on him while wille is still keeping his eyes closed, slowly pulling away, to enjoy the moment a little longer.
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simon's attention directed towards wille and the linked hands. it must feel the best kind of weird to experience the freedom of doing couple-things publicly - people's scrutiny no longer being something they have to hide from.
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fragilefangirl · 1 year
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My favorite line in Queen Charlotte is "Come. Hide from the heavens with me."
Like it's just so chefs kiss of how the head of the church is afraid of heavens above all things, something that most people desires, the ultimate reward in the afterlife. Its just so chefs kiss how it shows the level of burden that must've come with his title and the glory that came with it. And it was just so chefs kiss of how Charlotte, despite perhaps not quite understanding it, understood him enough to go with along. To let him fear the one thing everyone desires, and to essentially protect him from it.
With Lottie, He can be Farmer George, afraid of heavens. With Lottie, he can be anything, feel anything, be anything--even if it was the person everybody else refuses to see. But it's okay, because Lottie wasn't everybody, and not only did she see him, she also embraced him.
"Come. Hide from the heavens with me." What a line. What a delivery. What a love.
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yuri-is-online · 9 months
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Hi, there (again)!
If it's not too much trouble, make a second and last request, I can request
Pronto: (5) seeing their partner wearing someone else's jacket
With Trey, Silver And Sebek?
In case of passing me orders you can discard my order. Take your time and at your pace, bye 🌠🌌✍️💐
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5. Jealousy pt.1- seeing their partner wearing someone else's jacket
Hello again yourself! I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that this was the most popular prompt huh (゚ω゚;) Sorry I took so long to get back around to this one, I hope it was not too frustrating a wait I find it a bit difficult to wrap my head around Sebek.
notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, Rook is a bit dramatic (Trey), light injury but nothing descriptive (Silver), some misunderstandings quickly cleared (Sebek). The rest of the event requests can be found here.
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Trey
"My beloved, hath thou truly forgotten me? Tis I! Your sweetheart!"
In a scene out of a particularly annoying, tropey rom com, the thought dead lover throws themselves into the... indifferent arms of a most unwilling extra around whose shoulders have been draped a lab coat to serve as a makeshift cape. Trey should be focusing on his strawberries, or maybe the grip he has on the watering can, but it is getting much more difficult to ignore the farce going on just out of his line of sight. Sure, Trey trusts you, he isn't worried you are going to leave him for Rook of all people he's just worried that you're uncomfortable. That's it. That's why he keeps glancing at the lab coat and not listening to the dialogue.
"Thine eyes doth not deceive thee?" You know you're supposed to put effort into line delivery, but you literally just got this script ten seconds ago so you hope Rook' expectations are low. "I hath been adventuring in a distant land these many moons, thinking only of returning to thee and thine-" your face immediately wrinkles "Rook I'm not saying this shit."
"Non non," Rook shakes his head, dropping character only for a second "You will not be saying them, your character will be saying them." He settles back into his role making doe eyes up at you as you swear you hear the sound of something snapping just behind you. Probably your patience.
"Thine eyes doth not deceive thee, I hath been adventuring in a distant land these many moons, thinking only of returning to thee and thine embrace." the script calls for Rook to dip you, but instead of Le chasseur d’amour you find yourself gently pulled back by your makeshift cape into the arms of a knight.
"Sorry," the "cape" falls to the ground as Trey spins you into a dip, complete with the lengthy kiss the script called for "but I don't have anything cool to say." And yet the way he holds you, the strain in his smile and the angry slit his eyes have slimmed to is very cool. Very rare is the sight of genuine frustration on Trey Clover's face, rarer still the glare. Rook is well and truly enraptured, and now it's your turn to feel jealous.
"Chevalier des Roses! I certainly hope I did not overstep-" That bastard is grinning, almost like he was deliberately trying to poke the bear.
"Of course not." Trey pulls you up, arm wrapped firmly around your waist. "I just need to get a new watering can from storage and was wondering if Yuu wanted to come with me." Ha "ask" as if he is intending on letting you go, his grip hasn't loosened one bit.
Silver
"I'm sorry we weren't able to be of more help, prefect." The kitchen ghost's mournful face looks painfully out of place, you're so used to seeing their big smiles you almost feel like you're the one who screwed up.
"It's ok, really! Please don't feel bad, I'm not going to quit just because we had one little accident." Technically, it was not a little accident, otherwise you would still be wearing your clothes and not a master chef approved chef's jacket, but in pursuit of enlightenment one must be willing to make a few sacrifices. If making coffee could be considered a culinary pursuit.
"I'm very glad to hear that," some of the ghost's usual pep returns, along with it his seriousness as an instructor "but no more attempts today, you hear me? Make sure to put a compress on your arm when you get back to Ramshackle and put some ointment on it. I'll never forgive myself if your burn gets worse." You give a mock salute, carefully cradling the single thermos of coffee you had managed to salvage from your lessons close to your chest with your non injured arm.
"Aye aye captain, I'll make sure to come back to pick up my shirt after I've changed." And you did fully intended to do that if you hadn't run into the exact person your little delivery was for on your way back to your dorm. Silver pauses when he sees you, with a strange tight look on his face you don't recognize that doesn't disappear as you get closer. If anything it gets worse, and he doesn't snap out of it even when you're directly in front of him.
"Silver?" You try one more time and he startles, face slipping back into his normal listlessness.
"Sorry, I don't really know what came over me." So he says, but his attention remains firmly fixed on the coat even if his look is passive. "I didn't realize there were Master Chef classes going on."
"Oh there aren't, I just had a small accident." You say, subconsciously reaching for your sleeve as if you can hide a burn by drawing attention to it. It's a reflex, much like Silver's reach, his fingers careful not to irritate the bruised skin. "Silver?" You ask, trying to find the words you need to reassure him.
"I don't like red on you." He says, so oddly serious it takes you a second to realize he isn't really looking at the burn, no his attention is on your chef's jacket and it's offensive Heartslabyul badge. "Sorry, I don't know what came over me... I should be more concerned about the burns."
"Funny," you laugh ignoring his embarrassment "I think green looks nice on you."
Sebek
Sebek isn't very good at saying what he means. You know this, you love him in spite of this. It makes him feel very lucky, and he has no real problem telling people this. Silver was by far the person who heard him brag about you the most, even if he attempted to downplay just how happy he was to be with you it wasn't like he could hide very much from his friend. Which was what made this situation so... confusing. Hurtful even, Sebek doesn't have words for what he is feeling because "jealous" just feels petty but "distressed" feels pathetic. And he is neither of those things. In his opinion. Because being jealous is something insecure people do, and he is not insecure nor does he not trust Silver.
So why then why is he in so much physical pain?
"Hmph, I expect short sighted napping from Silver, but I was starting to expect better from you." Sebek can't tell who is more surprised that he isn't shouting, you or him. Hell, his tone is so normal Silver hasn't moved from his slumped position against one of the courtyard apple trees. You had been lying on the grass, waiting for him he knows as a fact even if his hammering heart is doubting it.
"Sorry, I couldn't wrap my head around some of the figures Crewel went over in class so I was up late studying." You sit up as you answer him, Silver's jacket falling off of your shoulders and taking Sebek's narrow gaze with it. "I guess I lost track of time."
"Did you ask Silver for help." It's a question but he doesn't voice it as one, there's genuine hurt on your face that pushes him back from anger into embarrassment and shame. You just look confused, looking down at the coat crumpled across your legs then back up at his still on his person and-
Laughing. You start to laugh and the lightest twinge of anger returns firmly setting his face into a cross between a scowl and a pout.
"H-hey I'm being serious. I'm Lord Malleus's retainer, diligent study is not something I will scold you for! I can help you stay awake!" His begging just makes you laugh harder, which should make him angrier but you're smiling. You are smiling and the silliness of the situation really settles on him. Sebek talks to Silver about you all the time, of course Silver would be just as worried as he would if he found you asleep on the courtyard green. There is no challenge to his honor or ability as a partner here, just the friendly concern over the partner of a brother knight.
"I know you are Sebek." You stand up, scrambling over to return Silver his coat before falling naturally into you place at his side and returning his smug pride to his posture. "Can I ask you some questions about those equations? I remember things better when I picture them in your voice."
"Of course!" Said voice booms back to life, the shout finally doing it's job in cracking Silver awake. "Make sure you don't take your eyes off of me for a second, Yuu!"
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sailforvalinor · 2 months
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I’m always fascinated by vengeance arcs in fiction because of their potential to create conflict within the audience—it’s an extremely natural, human thing to desire justice, and seeing someone get their comeuppance is extremely satisfying, and fulfills almost a spiritual need within everyone, I think. But there’s a fine line between justice and vengeance—where is it? How far is too far? I’m not here to answer these questions here other than to say that there is a line, but how a piece of fiction decides to indicate that line and where it’s been crossed is utterly fascinating to me. It’s the ability to have your audience response go from “YES! YEEESSSS!! WOOHOOOOO” to “…wait…no, this isn’t…oh no” on a dime.
The Time Lord Victorious in Doctor Who is still my favorite example of this (the shift is just so subtle!), but FMAB is getting some MAJOR points from me for how it handled Roy’s pursuit of vengeance over Hughes’ death. It isn’t subtle by any means—the dude is terrifying, Ed and Scar are actively commenting on how far he’ll go, Riza is obviously terrified for him—but it’s still extremely effective. I think part of what makes it so good is how well it parallels his encounter with Lust—she was also a homunculus, he also torched her to death protecting Riza, it even happened in the same exact place—but while that situation felt karmically satisfying and necessary to defend someone else (though, admittedly, it was still a bit disturbing), his encounter with Envy, while it starts out hyping you up for what promises to be a long-awaited delivery of justice, quickly begins to feel utterly wrong. Roy’s face is contorted, he doesn’t possess his usual control of his emotions, and he’s cruel. Envy is actively fleeing from him, and Roy isn’t even running to keep up with him, he’s just walking, and it’s terrifying. But where any pretense of justice completely vanishes is where Envy reverts to his tiny, weak, reptilian form, and Roy is still just as willing to murder him. And of course, the final nail in the coffin is Riza pointing her gun at his head—fulfilling the promise set up in earlier episodes that she would kill him if he ever deviated from his path. It’s just *chef’s kiss* perfection.
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ssahotchnerr · 2 years
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writings & such!!
part two of masterlist -> here!
* - contains explicit sexual content minors dni
✽ - suggestive content
aaron hotchner <3
series
fragile love
dbf!hotch * ✽
fics
keeping score ✽
kept promises ✽
something good
irresistible *
missed you
the other side
a sight for sore eyes ✽
aftershocks
close calls
cough medicine
guarded
perspectives
lawyer-face
fractures
rom coms
for you
breathe
like father, like daughters
sugarcoated ✽
by default
hold onto me
favors
under the weather
symptoms
his shirt
just aaron
take cover
your favorite
chamomile and honey
aftershave
closer
the small things
ready and waiting ✽
something off
safe and sound
(un)happy ending
sweet additions
here and now
a bad day
comfort of home
doubt
not so subtle
a case of forgetfulness
take a break
bau’s own celebrity
heavy hearts
unwanted goodbyes
after the storm
appointments
sleepless
details
identity theft
arms ✽
peace of mind
satisfied
guilty pleasure ✽
peace offerings
pillow talk
touch starved
delicate
bewitched
special delivery
history left unfinished
matters of convenience ✽
subtleties
nothing more romantic than a crime scene
frown lines
let me help you
period pains - cont.
office naps
board games
insecurities
aaron takes care of you when you’re sick
baby fever *
baby fever (cont.)
aaron visits teacher!reader at work
aaron surprises you at work -> minor competition
aaron blurbs -> here!
headcannons
physical touch *
kiss the chef
how aaron falls in love *
falling in love non bau!reader
sharing rights
dad!aaron
practical
shopping together
love bites *
spoiled
greg montgomery <3
fics
night routine
workplace competition
headcannons
early mornings
accidents
surprise kisses
pet names w greg
love bites *
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timeforelfnonsense · 9 months
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So, after finishing his quest, I wanted to see if Astarion had a canon last name. I went back to the graveyard and clicked around, and I assume this is what he craved into his headstone. The narrator's line delivery was so *chefs kiss*
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weneedtobealighthouse · 8 months
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Thoughts I had after watch #2 of season 2 episodes 1-3:
1. The pacing of the show is really excellent this season. It’s much darker, it has to be, but they balance that darkness with humor and lightness really well. The timing of the switches between Stede and Crew + Ed and Crew were honestly perfect. The tension never got too high and things never felt too bleak.
2. Taika’s delivery of the line “take the fucking leg” might be my favorite moment so far this season. It cuts the tension, it gets a laugh, and it’s just so ridiculously Ed.
3. Bless the writers, the costume department, and Vico for giving us more Jim. This was the character I was most worried about coming into season 2 because hype can be a deadly poison. Jim was such a breakout star of season 1, they could easily have messed up the execution of Jim in season 2. But no…we get to see Jim, the most cutthroat member of Stede’s crew carrying the Stede torch for the crew of the Revenge. Who is questioning the morality of their raids? Jim. Who is finding romance in dark times? Jim. Who is looking out for the emotional needs of the crew and calling Ed on his bs? Jim. And we love to see it.
4. I can’t speak about character development without speaking about Izzy. This is gonna be Izzy’s season. I can feel it. This man was SO UNWILLING TO ACCEPT LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP and now he craves it with his whole damn heart. The way he is quietly begging for Stede to forgive and accept him. The way he reluctantly let Fang and Frenchie hold him as he cried. The way he stood up to Ed, not for his own sake, but for the sake of the crew. Chefs kiss! Izzy is gonna work through this trauma and come out the other side. I wasn’t sure how they were going to redeem him, but I love this journey.
5. Ed’s ponytail nearly sent me to an early grave. It’s giving George Michael meets Rey from Star Wars meets Gaston and I am HERE FOR IT. Taika…why are you so pretty???
6. The fan service is really excellent. There was so much chatter about “would season 2 live up to the expectations of the fans” and I think it’s clear there was no need for this. Every member of this cast and crew, from Taika to David, love the fandom. They read the tweets, save the fanart, make the cakes, and cosplay one another’s characters. They ARE fans. And there was no way they were going to fuck up this season. The merman scene is proof. They’re watching and listening and they are giddy about delivering exactly what we all hope for and want.
Im about to watch the new episodes for a third time. Thursday can’t get here fast enough!
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