#Emma Rivet

[margueritelarochelaise]

Petit à Petit avec Emma Rivet

Petit à Petit avec Emma Rivet

L’Atelier Bletterie, La Rochelle présente “Petit à Petit“, une exposition de Emma Rivet du 8 au 30 septembre 2023. Ces dernières années, l’Atelier Bletterie via ses résidentes et résidents et sa programmation,ca développé un lien très fort avec la micro-édition et l’estampe dans toutes ses facettes. Emma Rivet, Le têtard, 2023 – © Laure Saint-Hillier C’est avec un grand plaisir que l’Atelier…

[endless-ineffabilities]

jealous ewan headcanon idea: how about matt and reader sitting down to have lunch together and ewan is fuming in the corner and then he tried to butt in by dragging his chair into the table and started trying to insert himself in the conversation? just a thought. 🥰

Love this! Got my mind racing, so read more below. A little something for my chem ov readers - I hope this finds you and I hope that Ewan drives you mad 😉💙

After the table read in part seven...

The cast and crew help themselves to catering after successfully accomplishing the table read. The adjacent meeting hall is decked out with various offerings, and everyone is scattered across several tables.

You've just gotten a plate of your food, Matt in tow, and the two of you settle down at one of the small circular corner tables that happened to have only two seats.

"Anything planned for the weekend?" you ask him.

"Why, love?" he asks, smirking. "Do you have something in mind?"

You have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling due to his blatant charm. You know you've been doing it too much.

"Well, I wanted to invite some of you over for drinks on Saturday night, and Emma and Liv will be busy going out of town, Phia has a date with her boyfriend, Bethany's got an audition, and I still have to ask the others really -

" - I'm in, why not?" he says.

"Oh!" you don't hold back your smile then. "That's great! I think Fabs might come, too, but only for a while since he promised Bella -

"What about Ewan?"

"What about me?" Ewan retorts suddenly, making his presence known. Unbeknownst to you and Matt, he had dragged another chair across the carpet, in order to join your table.

He twirls the chair in place in one hand, and plops down on it. He is positioned somewhat in the middle of yourself and Matt, but he is angled closer to you, laying a hand on the back of your seat. He sips his can of Coke for a second, then he repeats, "What's going on?"

"Oh, mate, just - " Matt starts to explain.

"It's nothing," you find yourself cutting him off, growing pissed off by the way Ewan just inserted himself in the conversation. His tone doesn't leave much to be desired, either. You add, "We were just talking about the script. You did well, and we're just happy for Aemond and where his story is going."

Matt is confused as to why you don't just invite Ewan as well, but he notices the tense air between the two of you and the way your shoulders stiffened at his proximity. He decides to let it go.

"Though of course, your scenes are just excellent this season, aren't they?" Matt points to you. "Especially the ones with Daemon."

Ewan has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from cursing, due to Matt's apparent audacity to flirt with his girl.

"Mhmm," you smile, "I do get some good ones. I must say I really liked - "

Ewan interjects, "Alyna did have two scenes with Aemond towards the end. And even in those, she's got a more charged dynamic than what she has with Daemon."

"Alyna and Aemond?" Matt scoffs. "Come on, mate. She wouldn't fraternise with the enemy!"

Ewan shakes his head, "I wouldn't say no, I mean, what she and Aemond have is something... chemical, you know? Riveting. The tension is electrifying, so to speak. Whereas with Daemon, it's more tame and... familial."

"Uhhh - " you open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. You mull his words over, and you know he's right.

But Matt counters with, "Is that so? Well, you know what they say about Targaryens. They like to keep it in the family. So there's nothing wrong with Daemon and Alyna acting familial, if you know what I mean." He laughs dryly, before throwing you a cheeky wink.

You respond in kind, snorting at his humour while shaking your head fondly.

"Mmm." Ewan simply hums, before taking a long, slow sip of his drink.

He thinks of The Battle Above The Gods Eye, and how it will be such an insane and challenging scene.

Daemon against Aemond?

He can't wait.

[sunflowersteves]

when you're gone || j.m.

pairing || joel miller x f!reader

summary || Jackson, Wyoming was supposed to be a calm and quiet town. Joel wasn't so sure when he wakes up alone after another unbearable nightmare.

author's note || without @themarcusmoreno, this fic would not have been made so I thank ash a thousand times for enabling me into writing soft joel comfort with some filth!! and tbh, i think i have an addition to soft!joel so i hope you all enjoy (especially after that episode). also yes, i may have gotten the title from the cranberries song!!

warnings || nightmares, ptsd, apocalypse ptsd, pure disgusting fluff, hurt/comfort, joel needs a break so i'm giving him one, soft!joel, SMUT, oral sex, blowjob, praise kink, [18+ only!!]

masterlist

In Wyoming, it was a quiet and peaceful night. The crickets chirped, and the cold icy wind blew against the logged cabins. Everyone in Jackson was under the cloudy haze of a tranquil slumber, and so were the trees as they gently swayed underneath the stars. 

In a quaint cabin, Joel was mumbling in his sleep. A dark shadow cast over him from the troubles of his active mind. His eyebrows furrowed in despair, and his cheeks were hot from the pain that shot through his chest. He could picture her. He could picture you. He could picture Ellie. A sharp cry and scream thwarted against his eardrums, and he panicked. 

His eyes snapped open in an instant, and his chest heaved at the alarm that spread across his chest and down to the pits of his stomach. He looked around the room—his eyes frantic. An old chair, a bookshelf, and a pile of clothes. 

A nightmare. Just a nightmare. 

He turned to look over at the silhouette of your form under the covers, but his heart froze once more as you weren’t even there. 

You were gone. 

It struck deep inside him—empty and sullen—as the questions started to roll over one another. Where are you? Are you okay? Are you hurt? Are you alive?

He didn’t waste any time by putting some pants over his boxers or taking his flannel. He just needed to run. The strong pads of his feet hit the floorboards, and he sauntered down the stairs. He had to find you. 

He needed to find you. 

The pure, hard feeling of desperation rose in his throat. His hands were shaking by his sides as he whipped around the archway that leads into the living room. His eyes scanned every crevice of the room—starting from the tall bookshelves and guitar stand that sat in the back corner. Then, he saw it. He saw the movement of a hand flipping over a page in a book. 

You.

He let out a big puff of air, the relief washing him over like a cold splash of water to his face. You were safe. You were okay. He could feel the panic rush out of his chest, and pure adoration sunk in between his heart and his lungs. Just you.

He watched, quietly, at the soft rise and fall of your chest. The hand that wasn’t holding the book in your lap was tapping gently on the edge of the sofa.

A lukewarm cup of tea, the one you most likely forgot from the riveting pages, sat on the coffee table in front of you. Your eyes rapidly scanned each individual page, and your lips pursed into a small smile. 

He could tell you were reading a Jane Austen novel. You always had the same expression when you were reading Pride & Prejudice, Emma, or Persuasion. Your left brow would always twitch when you got to a familiar scene that you had read a million times before. 

He suddenly could feel the warm breath of a calm mind take over his body. He felt like he could relax now. You’re here. You’re safe. You’re alive. 

As if you feel his soft stare, your eyes turn to his—your smile even larger than before. “Aren’t you supposed to be in bed, handsome?”

He doesn’t say anything. His mouth doesn’t even form a smile. He wasn’t sure he could. While his body relished in the feeling of relief, the whiplash of feelings that swirled around in his head was starting to get to him. 

“Joel?”

Your eyes turned cloudy with concern, and now his heart sank just a little. He didn’t want to make you feel worried. The last thing he wanted to do was open a deep wound in your chest like the one that settled in his. 

He quietly sat down next to you, arms pulling in your shoulders, so your back lay rested against his chest. You sat the book down on the coffee table right before making home into his arms.

He breathed in deep, familiar senses of your own musk and the spices you had been picking earlier that day. Rosemary, bay leaves, and parsley were your favorite plants in the garden that Ellie had asked you to build. 

You sat there for just a moment, knowing that he needed to take his time. Joel was never a man of words. He was silent and calculating, watching everyone and anything around him.

You were one of his soft spots over the years—you and Ellie—but his hardened heart still prevented him from allowing his deepest affections to shine through. So, when his thoughts came barrelling down on top of him, he needed the time to articulate them. You would always patiently wait for him, each and every time. 

“Had another nightmare.” He paused, noticing the small intake of your breath. He could tell that you felt bad for waking up in the middle of the night and not being there for him. “Woke up alone.” 

He chose his words carefully. He didn’t want to say, “woke up, and you weren’t there.” In truth, you weren’t, but he knew you had insomnia. He knew that he wasn’t the only one suffering under this roof from the dangerous, violent, and pure aching pain that the world had caused. 

“Joel—Baby—” God, you were too good for him. You were a badass throughout all of the years of fighting and violence, yet your heart shined brighter than ever, just for him and Ellie. 

He whispered just under his breath, “I had the same nightmare. I know you’re there. I know Ellie’s there. I know Sarah’s there—” He shakes his head. “—But I can never find you. Any of you.”

He can picture the frown that forms on your pretty, plump lips. It wasn’t your fault. You know that. You couldn’t have known, but the burning guilt in your chest wants to say otherwise. Your hand grabs onto his own, which is splayed across your abdomen, and you squeeze—making sure that he knew you were here. 

“I’ll never go anywhere, Joel. Not without you.”

A deep, crackling affection sprouted in his chest at your affirmation. He could almost smile—bright and pearly white. His worn heart thumped loudly against his chest, surely pumping loudly against your shoulder blade. 

“I know, darlin’. My brain is just funny sometimes.” His lips crack just a little at the snort he was able to pull from your nose. 

“Hell of a way to put it, Miller.”

After a couple of beats of silence, you bite your lip—contemplating whether you should act on what your brain was currently concocting. You knew that Joel wouldn’t be able to sleep for the rest of the night, and by default, you wouldn’t, either.

You could tell he was still lost in the faraway lands of his mind. His eyes were glossy and dazed. You knew he was, in no doubt, trying to unsee the darkest parts of his nightmares.

You decide to say fuck it, and you attempt to untangle Joel’s arms from yours. You hear a disapproving grunt from the man behind you, followed by another confused sound when you started to leave the couch.

“Darlin’, where are you—” His question dies on his tongue, though, all while you sink down onto your knees. His eyes are blown wide—dark pupils dilating under the soft glow of the eucalyptus candle you started to burn earlier. 

You give your best innocent smile. By the way his lips open just a smidge, you knew your idea was a good one. “Wanna take care of you, Joel.”

You bite your lip, sinking your teeth into the plump skin, and he curses under his breath. “Will you let me take care of you, handsome?” Your palms flatten across his splayed-out thighs, and you rub back and forth. He could feel his boxers become tighter as you wait for his answer. “Hmm?”

His body involuntarily leans back so he could sink further and further into the couch. His body acts, once again, before his mind can even comprehend the pure lust and desire he has for you. His hips jump forward to allow your soft hands to shuffle his boxers down and pool around his legs. 

Finally, he says, “please.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

You grab a hold of his half-hard member, and he groans at the sight of you practically drooling for his cock. Your eyes are glistening with such lust, and he sees that speckled look of love that fills them.

His own eyes are dark and heavy-lidded as you press a couple of sweet kisses on his inner thigh—causing him to jerk. You pump his cock a few times, jaw slacking at the pre-cum that is already dribbling against his tip.

“Darlin’.” He gasps.

He watches as you wrap your soft lips around his head. He can feel his cock twitch and become harder—pleasure throbbing against his bulging veins. “F-Fuck, just like that. Yes.”

You flatten your tongue along his ruddy tip and then swirl in between his crying slit. “Fuckin’ mouth on you, I—” He lets out small puffs of air, teeth biting his lower lip in pleasurable agony. If it weren't for his fat cock in your mouth, you definitely would have smiled at the praise. He moans, almost as if he could feel it. 

"Joel—baby—so needy."

Joel was pretty sure he could die happy, right with your lips on his cock because when you rasp that out, there was a bead of your saliva and his pre-cum connected to your lips.

His knees twitch in between you, not being able to help it. He drags his hand to the nape of your neck and squeezes the base of it. “Takin’ care of me so fuckin’ well. My pretty girl—suckin’ my cock.” His words slur together with each syllable of his honeyed Texas accent.

The soft cries and whimpers that leave his mouth are really addicting—your hand squeezes against the base of his thigh from wanting more. 

"You taste so good, Joel. 'm—I love you. I love your cock."

You bop your head even lower—esophagus spasming at the pure thickness of Joel. No matter how many times your sweet cunt or stretched mouth took him, you were never used to his swollen size. 

You hum against him as you feel the sticky substance of pre-cum leak from his tip and onto your tongue—salty and earthy. His hips sputter slightly upward, lips cursing up a storm. “Oh-fuck-fuck. C-Can’t–ugh–can’t take much longer, sweet girl.” 

His body almost shutters from the drool he feels slowly drip down to his balls. Your mouth is warm and balmy, slick tongue working excellently against his hardened shaft. He gasps out your name, mixed in with one of his pet names for you. 

He lets himself become lost between the soft pillows of you and your expert tongue that brings him to the brink of pleasure. He lets the stiff trauma that makes his shoulders and muscle tense slowly wash off of him. “Love when you suck my cock, yeah, f-fuck—my pretty girl takin’ care of my fuckin’ cock.”

His mouth hangs open as you hollow your cheeks and suck on his ruddy tip before shoving your throat back down to the base of his cock. He wasn’t sure how he was sane at this moment—watching the saliva drop from his cock down to his balls—as he was throbbing with pleasure. 

His head drops back onto the couch, and he moans and whimpers out your name. It stays on his tongue—repeating over and over as if it was the only thing that ever mattered in the world. He feels his tummy squeeze, thighs tensing and pulsating as he feels that familiar coil tighten. “Oh, baby—darlin’—my girl—”

You suck in, swirling your tongue just over his slit once more, and he gruffs out a gasp. "Fuck, I love you, I love you, I love you—" Thick beads of cum spew to the back of your throat—causing you to gag. His cum rolls over as his cock twitches and spurts in your mouth. 

You swallow every drop that Joel gives you—gulping it down on his shaft. He was already sensitive, cock already softening, but the whimper that left his mouth seemed one of ecstasy.

You relent, though. Your jaw was a little sore, and you had a feeling Joel was going to want to return the favor. You unhinge your mouth from him with a small ‘pop’ and pat his knee in affection. 

“Feel better, handsome?”

“Loads.” He snorts. “Literally.”

You roll your eyes, getting up from the floor and taking your usual seat on his thighs. “Hilarious, Miller. Real funny.” You were happy, though. You were able to give him the distraction he deserves.

His smile never settles as he pulls you into him. A weight had lifted onto his chest at the true realization that you’re here.

You’re with him.

You’ve alive.

You’re here. 

Joel knew that the nightmare would haunt him for a long time, but for now, you are all he needs.

[emmasvanity]

location: Ministry of Magic status: open to anyone

While Emma wasn't the typical pureblood socialite her parents dreamed of, with her playing Quidditch professionally, events like balls and galas were something she was well versed in, having years upon years of practice in etiquette to make sure she would not embarrass them in any way. Her original plan had been wanting to see if she could find some of her old roommates to catch up with but an elder gentleman had roped her into a conversation that she had yet to figure out a polite way to escape out of. "This is truly riveting. Please tell me more." She was only half listening when she spotted someone familiar, mouthing 'save me'.

[perpetualexistence]

Total Drama Fic Rec Week Day 6: Favorite Romance

It's time for romance! Many in fact because I'm horrible at chosing specific ones I like! Trust me though, this is my abridged version of favorites.

Most of it is variations of Alenoaheather because I'm going to spread my agenda one way or another. But hey, I put a Zemma fic in there to mix things up!

I'm also still one for dark fics, in this case toxic relationships. I've included them but once more I've separated them in case that doesn't suit your fancy.

Definite Proof by courtney-deserved-better: Zee is finally ready to confess to Emma, but first has to find her. It's part of a Reboot cast High school AU, though reading the other parts aren't necessary. Though I do highly recommend it. Also, the summary contains the phrase 'And Axel has been waiting for someone to let her use them as a human javelin.' What more could you want?

c'mon, c'mon and love me normally by alphaclown @xxalphaclownxx: A Noaheather oneshot where Noah and Heather dance in a masked masquerade. It does a phenomenal job of setting up an atmosphere of teasing and getting caught in the moment with little dialogue needing to be said.

Astronomy in Reverse; It Was Me Who Was Discovered by HenkePenke: An astronomer Noah catches the eye of two minor gods. Alenoaheather that's a god AU, which I don't think there's enough of in the TD fandom.

Meet-Ugly by HenkePenke: Noah goes on a walk with his dog and runs into two new people. Literally. Alenoaheather first meeting fluff featuring Noah's dog being a matchmaker.

Toxic Relationship Fics

The Clearing by cloudyskiies: Noah stumbles into a circle of mushrooms and meets a guy who's off putting, though he can't quite figure out how. Has Alejandro as an old school fae. Think a Meet-Cute gone horribly wrong. It's a great premise and a fascinating read. Contains obsession and possessiveness.

breathe you in my lungs and make you mine by @kijosakka: An Alenoaheather oneshot where Noah's ability to pick apart Alejandro and Heather has them become very interested in him. Obsessively so. It's a riveting exploration of what it would take to lead people to the point of obsession. It's got obsession, possession, and oh so much codependency.

@totaldramaficrecweek

[cetaitlaverite]

Why All This Music?

Masters of the Air - Rosie Rosenthal x OC

happy VE day!!! masterlist is here <3

15. Best and Worst

New Year's Eve. A night in a packed pub instead of the officers’ club. Warm fire in the fireplace and warm lighting spilling over the pub-goers. Laughter and the squealing of young women being twirled around the dance floor. Loud music and a glass smashing somewhere. The heckling of the British crowd in response.

Meatball sat at Freddie’s feet, as he always did, leaning his head against one of her shins. She sat on Rosie’s lap in the absence of enough chairs. Most of the other Riveters were standing. Millie was sitting on Jem’s lap and Amy was on Paddy’s. Cecelia had managed to secure leave to see her boyfriend. And Emma, it seemed, was currently in the process of falling in love with an officer of the RAF who had asked her for one dance and given her six.

Everything was a little bit fuzzy, the effect that just the right side of too much alcohol tended to have. Freddie had had a few glasses of wine to celebrate the occasion. She kind of really hated New Year’s. 

“You know who would love this?” Freddie said to Rosie, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck with the arm slung over his shoulders. 

He was in the middle of a sip of beer but turned his eyes to her nonetheless. “Who?” he asked once he’d put the glass back down.

Freddie grinned. “Earnie.”

Rosie laughed. “He would.” That little dog loved to be the centre of attention and there was no shortage of people to give it to him here. Rosie could just imagine him running beneath people’s legs and yapping as he searched for his next victim, then demanding to be picked up and carried around like one of the glasses in everyone’s hands.

Freddie smiled. She loved that she could share things about home with Rosie now. That when she spoke of her dogs he could imagine them, could hear their barks as well as see their eyes and feel their fur, just as she did. That when she spoke of different rooms in her house he knew where they were. That when she spoke of her parents he could speak back.

“I miss him,” Freddie said, leaning her head against Rosie’s. “And Bruno and my parents, too, of course. But I miss getting to cuddle Earnie so much right now.”

Rosie smiled sadly, aware of her resentment of the occasion, and gestured towards the tiny puddle of wine lingering in her glass. “You want another drink?”

“Come do a shot, Fred,” Millie called across the table. “You, me, and Jem.”

“Yes, let’s let the recovering alcoholic toss back whiskey like it’s water again,” Jem drawled around a sip of her beer. “That sounds like a great idea.”

“Shut up, Jem,” Millie snapped even as Freddie laughed. “You would’ve done the same if you were me.”

“I would’ve done worse,” Jem countered.

“I certainly did,” Freddie supplied, just because she wanted to make Millie feel better.

Mercifully, Millie giggled. “I so wish I would’ve gotten to see you street racing in stolen RAF jeeps.”

Pappy, standing beside Millie and Jem’s chair, choked on his sip of beer. “What?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Freddie brushed him aside with a flick of her wrist. 

“That why you’re so good at dogfighting, Fred?” Rosie asked around a smirk. “And here you had me believing you were a rookie.”

“Rosie,” Freddie whined, nudging him with her shoulder. “Would you stop bringing that up?” He loved to tease her about the night he’d ‘taught’ her to fly a B-17 and she’d insisted on pretending to dogfight in it. Though she’d been plastered at the time, unfortunately she remembered the event in vivid detail if only because between them Rosie and Millie had refused to let her forget.

“Come do a shot,” Millie insisted, redirecting the conversation. “Just one.” She pouted, holding up her pointer finger and making puppy-dog eyes.

Jem snorted. “You stick that lip out any further and birds’ll shit on it, Mils.”

Freddie tipped her head back as she laughed.

“Fred,” Millie insisted.

“Fine!” she exclaimed, giggling. “One shot.”

“Yay!” Millie cheered.

“Who’s buying?” Jem asked as she waited for Millie to climb off her lap before standing herself.

“The barman fancies Fred,” Millie said dismissively as she reached to help Freddie detangle herself from both Rosie and Meatball.

Rosie guffawed. “I’ll pay -”

“No,” Jem snapped. “You can let Freddie have a little flirt for free shots, Rosie, it won’t do you any harm.”

Freddie and Millie giggled as they linked arms.

“Non-boyfriends don’t get boyfriend privileges, Rosie,” Millie taunted over her shoulder. With that, she linked her elbow with Jem’s on her other side so the three of them wouldn’t get separated in the crowd and started dragging Freddie and Jem to the bar.

Bailey chuckled into his beer as Rosie frowned, petting Meatball briefly when he looked up at him but mainly attempting to get eyes on the girls at the bar.

“You’ve got your hands full there, Rosie,” Bailey said, sharing a smirk sidelong with Pappy.

“You buy one you buy the lot,” Paddy commented, grinning.

“All three of them are as bad as each other,” Amy put in from Paddy’s lap. “No idea how Brady ever handled Millie. The two of them used to be forever at each other’s throats. Next thing you know, she’s in a downward spiral because he’s gone down somewhere over Germany and we’re all finding out for the first time that they were together.” 

“What about Jem?” Bailey asked.

Amy and Paddy both turned their eyes on him, slow and sly. “Why?” Paddy said. “You interested, Bailey?”

“Wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you,” Amy said, taking out a pack of cigarettes from her bag and shaking one out.

Pappy hummed, thoughtful. “I always thought she and Bucky might -”

“What?!” Paddy cut him off. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Aw, come on. The way she used to slap him around and stuff -”

“Absolutely not,” Paddy repeated resolutely.

“Absolutely not what?” Jem asked, returning from the bar with a fresh beer even though the one she’d left behind was still half-full.

“Nothing!” Amy and Paddy insisted at once.

Jem rolled her eyes but didn’t inquire further. Rosie got the impression she didn’t altogether care very much.

Millie returned to the table a moment later and stared at Jem expectantly, waiting for her to sit down so she could sit back on her lap. She, too, had a fresh drink even though she hadn’t needed one.

“Where’s Fred?” Rosie asked.

“Some locals were having a go about her wireless ops speaking German to each other. She went over to have a word,” Millie said. She sipped her new beer and then her old beer in turn, holding one in each hand.

“She alright?” He didn’t like the thought of it.

“She’s fine,” Jem dismissed him. “She’s got it handled.”

“Now listen here, you Jerry bitch -!” an older man barked from the other side of the dance floor.

All eyes shot to him and found Freddie in his face.

“Oh dear,” said Millie.

“I was born in Oxford!” Freddie insisted, refusing to shy away even when he was getting closer and closer to her. 

“Don’t speak that filthy language around here,” the man threatened her, nostrils flaring. His beer was sloshing all over his hand as he held it aloft.

“Us speaking that ‘filthy language’ is saving Allied lives,” Freddie spat. “I have been working for the RAF for almost five years, how much have you been doing?”

“Fucking spying on us, are ya?” The man scoffed. “I wouldn’t go around bragging about that if I was you, love.”

“Spying on you?” Freddie laughed. “You don’t know piss all about the Allied war effort. I’d be better off asking Adolf Hitler.”

“Why don’t you run and fucking ask him then, little snitching bitch -”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Rosie said, stepping between the two of them to force them apart. “Come on, Fred, calm down,” he insisted when she wouldn’t look at him, just carried on staring past him at the man smirking his toothless smirk.

“Yeah,” the man goaded, “come muzzle your Boche bitch.”

Before Rosie could get a word in, Jem had punched the man in the face. One snap of her arm and the blood came pouring. No one had seen it coming, not least the man who fell victim to it. With a cry and the windmilling of his arms he stumbled backwards, dropping his mostly empty pint of beer and clutching at his nose, taking a few other men down with him as he went crashing into a table.

“You watch that filthy mouth of yours or it’ll get you worse than that, so help me,” Jem snarled as she moved to stand over him.

“Enough!” shouted an authoritative voice. Imelda, the owner of the pub, was scowling as she approached. “You can go home,” she told the man still clutching at his bleeding nose as he half-draped himself over the table. “Should be with your wife and children anyway, you poor excuse for a man. And you -” Here she turned to Jem. “You cause chaos in my pub one more time, Jemima, and you will be banned for good, do you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jem said but she was grinning. 

“I’m serious. I know he’s a prick but I can’t have you throwing punches at the first sign of trouble.”

“Filthy mouth on him,” Jem muttered, shaking out her hand.

Imelda sighed. “Come get some ice.” She saw to it that the man who had started the trouble was escorted out before placing a hand on Jem’s back to lead her to the storeroom. Before she went on her way, however, she turned to Freddie. “Maybe go and get some air, Freddie, love, you’re all flushed.”

“I’m sorry for causing trouble,” Freddie told her quietly. Gone was her earlier fury, replaced with all the guilt of a child being told off. 

Imelda smiled both indulgently and reassuringly at her. “I know it wasn’t your fault, Freddie, dear. Just let’s ask your colleagues to keep the German to a minimum when it’s this crowded, ay?”

Freddie cracked a smile at this, nodding. “Yes, of course. I will do. Thank you.”

Imelda nodded, reached out to give her arm a squeeze, and then led Jem away to get some ice for her hand.

Millie, behind Rosie, sighed. “Take her out the back way, Rosie,” she said, sounding exhausted. “Just in case the bastard’s still out front.”

Rosie nodded and Millie turned to leave. 

Freddie frowned, hugging her arms around herself. “I left my drink.”

Millie rolled her eyes but she didn’t quite manage to hide her smile in time. “You don’t need to drink any more wine tonight, Fred,” Millie told her. “Apparently it makes you feisty.”

Freddie scoffed. Rosie laughed.

“Your wireless girls are doing fine,” Millie assured Freddie next. “Go and take a breather, alright?”

Freddie nodded, docile now that the chaos had passed, and allowed Rosie to lead her out the back door of the pub into the beer garden.

It was empty in the middle of winter and dark against the blackout blinds. The stars were out but the moon wasn’t, not really, not for all the light it was giving them. The stars, though, were bright, allowing them to make out first the rows of empty benches, then the trees at the far end of the garden, and then each other, standing close together beside the closed door as they waited for their eyes to adjust.

“It’s chilly,” Freddie said, just to say something, really.

Rosie leaped into action, reaching to unbutton his jacket.

“No!” Freddie exclaimed, giggling softly at him. “No, it’s okay, keep it on. You’ll freeze.”

“I’ll be fine -”

“I’ve got my own jacket,” Freddie assured him. “I’ll be fine. The alcohol is warming me up, anyway.”

Rosie cracked a grin. “Right.”

Turning away from him, Freddie surveyed the nearest bench in an attempt to gauge whether it was wet. Satisfied that it wasn’t, she moved to sit on it and Rosie followed behind her, sitting by her side.

“I hate what the Nazis have done to the German language,” she spoke up after a while. “Those girls in there - Anneliese and Jana - they represent everything the Nazis hate. Jews who escaped their grip and are now using their own language against them. And yet they’re insulted like they’re the worst of them just for using the language, even in the country they’re trying to help.”

Rosie sighed. “That guy - he has no idea about anything anyone’s doing in this war. No idea what we’re all out here fighting for. But you said it yourself - he’s doing nothing while you and those girls are working tirelessly to bring bombers like me home again. And you can only do that because of your German.”

Freddie smiled sadly as she looked over at him through the darkness. “I love German. I’ve always loved it. Because I spent so much of my childhood in Vienna, in some ways it feels more natural to me than English. I just hope the Nazis don’t turn me against it. It’s a beautiful language, really.”

“It is,” Rosie agreed. “When you speak it, at least.”

Freddie gave a little laugh, hitting him lightly in the arm. “Flirt.”

Inside the pub, the music changed. Instantly, Freddie perked up. “I love this song,” she breathed.

Rosie watched her face as she listened to it. His eyes got stuck on her gentle smile. “Fred,” he began shyly, “would you like to dance with me?”

Freddie’s eyes shot to him and searched his face. He watched a multitude of emotions pass over her.

Dancing. She still hadn’t done it since Daniel. But maybe she was tired of not dancing. Maybe, in the midst of this war that just kept on coming, that didn’t ever seem like it was going to end, what she really needed was to dance. 

And here was Rosie, all sweet and shy and charming. So, so patient with her. He was hanging on even though she knew she’d given him little reason to. No kisses, no dances, no lingering touches and scarcely many hugs. Why did he keep on waiting for her? More importantly, why did she keep on making him wait?

Freddie reached for his hand and took it, smiling at him through her lashes. “I would love to dance with you, Rosie.” She stood and led him over to the small clearing between the benches and the door, placed one arm around his neck and left her other hand in his, smiling as he wrapped his other arm around her waist.

“It’s been a while since I’ve done this,” she admitted as she found her footing. Once upon a time she had danced all the time. Now she was unsure of where her feet were supposed to be going.

“I’ve got you,” Rosie reassured her, using his hand on her back to bring her closer. “Not letting you go anywhere.”

“I don’t want to step on your toes,” she confessed with an embarrassed laugh.

Rosie’s eyes sparkled as he shared her smile. “If you’re stepping on them it’s because I put them in your way, and that’s my problem, not yours.”

Freddie laughed, loud in the quiet, and rested her head on his chest right over his heart. It was racing beneath her ear. She would have liked to make some smug comment about making him nervous but she knew hers must have been just the same.

They danced in silence for a while, listening to the muffled music reach them through the walls. Freddie shut her eyes and let Rosie guide her, trusted that he wouldn’t lead her astray.

Wanting to be closer to him, all of a sudden much too far away, Freddie lifted her head and rested her forehead against his cheek. She smiled as she felt his muscles twitch where he clearly wanted to smile as well.

They swayed gently even as the rhythm picked up speed, curled into each other like they’d always been that way. Their breathing synched and so did their heartbeats, both of them committing the feeling of being pressed so close to memory.

“Feeling brave, Fred?” Rosie asked quietly as the song approached its crescendo.

Freddie smiled. “I trust you.”

Rosie pulled just slightly away so he could use her hand to twirl her, then caught her as she came back to him and grinned at her smile. 

“Again,” Freddie insisted, laughing.

So again he twirled her, and then again, until she was so dizzy she had to stop and lean her weight against him once more.

They swayed together into the next song, both of Freddie’s arms around Rosie’s back and both of his around hers. Her forehead resumed its perch against his cheek. Rosie ducked his head to make it easier for her to reach.

“It’ll be midnight soon,” Freddie whispered after a long while of silence. The muffled songs in the pub were getting jollier and jollier as the end of the year approached. But jolly though they felt, Freddie and Rosie kept on dancing like the music was slow and romantic, pressed together like they were trying to hold a feather aloft between them.

Rosie hummed his acknowledgement of this fact.

“Mils, Jem, and I have a tradition at midnight,” Freddie informed him. “They’ll kill me if I miss it.”

“Five more minutes,” Rosie whispered, holding her closer.

Freddie smiled. “Two.”

“Three,” he bargained.

“Done.”

But they stayed out there for ten, until the sounds of increased movement inside the pub informed them that midnight was well and truly on its way, unstoppable in its approach.

Rosie guided Freddie back inside with a protective hand on the small of her back, making sure no one gave her trouble as she navigated their way back to the table.

Millie and Jem jumped to their feet when they saw her. “Finally,” Jem said, now with a bandage wrapped around the knuckles of her left hand. “We thought you may have forgotten.”

Freddie scoffed, affronted. “Never.”

“One minute to midnight!” someone in the crowd announced.

Rosie resumed his seat while Pappy slipped into the one Millie and Jem had vacated. Freddie, Millie, and Jem formed a circle beside the table.

“Best and worst,” Millie said. “Go.”

“Best when Jones fell down the stairs,” Jem said, snorting just at the memory. “Worst, that Münster mission.”

“Best when I met John,” Millie said with a wistful smile. “Worst when I lost him.”

“Best when I met Rosie,” Freddie said, blushing because she knew he could hear her. “Worst when we lost all our boys in Münster.”

“But next year…” Millie started.

“But next year will be brighter, happier, healthier,” they chorused as one. “And we’ll see each other through.”

“Ten,” the crowd in the pub started chanting, “nine…”

“I have a good feeling about this one,” Millie said.

“Six, five…” 

“1944 will be our year!” exclaimed Jem.

“Two, one - happy new year!”

All at once, the three of them pressed a kiss to the cheek of the girl to their right. Freddie kissed Millie, Millie kissed Jem, and Jem kissed Freddie. “Kisses!” they all exclaimed once they’d pulled back with an exaggerated smacking sound.

They all laughed and hugged, bundling in tight, swaying from side to side as they told each other how much they loved each other and how they just knew the next year was going to be kind to them. And when they all eventually let go and moved to hug the rest of their group, and Freddie let Rosie wrap her up in a warm bear hug, she thought for the first time that she might actually believe it.

[clavissionary-position]

In the Clavis Continuity, I love imagining Emma happening upon Cyran and Kai and Hugo having an animated discussion in the Obsidian language one day. Upon seeing her, they invite her over and ask her how she's coming along with her own studies of the language.

She nervously says a few sentences, and of course all three of them are quick to sing her praises. But even Emma knows her effort was far from perfect, so she asks them to be totally honest with her. After some prompting, they finally relent.

A little too much. The next 30 seconds is filled with so much unintentionally-harsh critique that Emma is practically on the verge of tears. This understandably lands the trio of men in a particularly insidious affair in the Lelouch Trap Series.

This leads to Emma having to launch a full-scale rescue. Unfortunately Clavis catches her in the act. Naturally he's is super-excited about Emma engaging him in his little play session, so he devises an impromptu game out of it. She'll have three chances to free them, but each time she fails, she'll earn a special naughty penalty (to be delivered after sunset in the privacy of Clavis' room).

Because this is Ikepri, Emma gets down to her last shot, having already incurred XXXX and XXXX on her Lascivious Lelouch Ledger. In the meantime, Clavis has also fine-tuned his trap so Emma can no longer physically get to the trio. For their part, they've begun passing the time by listening to Hugo talk about the time he fell asleep during one of Gilbert's speeches at the military academy. It's a riveting story full of twists and turns and Clavis mistakes the resulting gasps as proof that his trap is truly the hallmark of his career in villainy.

Emma uses this opportunity to start singing an Obsidian folk song (learned from the Obsidianite immigrants in the kingdom) for seemingly no reason. At least no reason that Clavis can surmise. But she cleverly changes some of the lyrics to incorporate obscure vocabulary she'd learned from the trio earlier that day. And, in incredible coincidence, that vocabulary is weirdly relevant to helping the trio navigate Clavis' trap and get themselves out.

After Emma 'wins' the game and the trio are safely back in the realm of the unsnared, they begin singing her praises about her singing. And then Kai tells her that she mispronounced one of the words as a very naughty word and that's why they'd started turning red from attempting to hold back their laughter. Cyran and Hugo chastise Kai for being too honest.

Clavis, growing increasingly jealous and needy as he stands by, decides to employ drastic measures and he walks up to Emma, Chevaliers her over his shoulder and absconds for his private quarters, looking nothing like a gentleman but every bit like an insecure boyfriend.

The end.

[doctorofmagic]

New Thanos series against a new Illuminati formation launching in November.

"This November, Earth will once again tremble before the power of Marvel Comics’ most feared supervillain in an all-new THANOS solo series!

From Chris Cantwell, the writer who brought Marvel’s other big bad to Eisner-nominated heights in DOCTOR DOOM, and Luca Pizzari, the acclaimed artist known for his recent work on X-MEN: BEFORE THE FALL - HERALDS OF APOCALYPSE #1, comes a four-issue limited series that presents a riveting fresh take on the Mad Titan. 

The saga will follow Thanos as he rockets to Earth from the darkest depths of the cosmos to undertake his most ambitious conquest yet. The only ones that can quell his passionate fury is a new Illuminati. Mr. Fantastic, Doctor Strange, and Iron Man have reunited to guide the superhuman world from the shadows, and joining this new incarnation are Emma Frost and Blue Marvel. This cabal composed of Marvel’s greatest minds has wasted no time in sharing a secret that will shatter the heavens and provoke Thanos’ deadly wrath like never before! 

Thanos vs. the Illuminati! The Mad Titan descends upon Earth to retrieve something he has lost. And the Illuminati must band together to stop him, because they’re the ones who hid it from him!

"I’ve had the honor and joy of writing some of Marvel’s greatest villains, so you can imagine how excited I am to not only tackle the Mad Titan himself, but pit him against some of the most powerful brains and fists out there—this latest lineup of the Illuminati," Cantwell said. "But I think folks will find the backdrop of this story quite unexpected, mischievously funny, and heartbreakingly human, for what has drawn Thanos back screaming into the universe is a singular pain and desire for connection that he believes only one essence in existence (and non-existence) can give him… while this being is in turn grappling with some deeper questions about what they are, and what they want to be. Plus, Thanos hot-wires a pickup truck."

"I could tell right from reading the first panel description that this book was gonna be something else," Pizzari shared. "I never even met Chris before and yet it’s like he wrote this book reading my mind; there are a lot of characters I’ve always wanted to try my hand on. Thanos himself is, of course, unbelievably fun to draw, I’m constantly telling myself to make him bigger and bigger!"

[Source]

Homage variant cover by Phil Noto.

--

Now, my opinions? Cantwell is controversial AF. Tony stans know that, and I'm sure they're not happy to see him back at writing the character. I like his Doom run, except for the ending when he goes full genocide (even with the excuse that he wasn't aware of that because of his clouded emotions). As to Stephen... I'll wait and see. Maybe the run will be more focused on Thanos than the other characters. I don't know. I'm happy to see the doctor trio and Hulk, but also... I dread a little bit.

[toss-a-coin-to-your-stan-account]

me: I'm almost done with emma! and I've been listening to this for three months! I'm finally at the last hour of an 18 hour audiobook! and then I can cross it off my to be read list! I'm quite proud of myself and have had a great time listening to a lovely and riveting piece of literature c:

knightley: I've loved you since you were 13 lol

me hearing that and stopping dead in my tracks with the bag I was about to use to clean up my cats' kitty litter:

[glygriffe]

Rec list of November

I still don't have time or headspace to write, but I settled a little into my new job so now I have more time to read! Get cozy and enjoy some fanfiction with me, as the night and the cold slowly take over my part of the world. I also finished a couple of weeks ago Neil Gaiman's The Ocean at the End of the Lane, and I LOVED it! Disturbingly beautiful, it's not scary even though it describes horrible mystical happenstance. I strongly recommend it.

Supernatural

Unveil the Splendours of Your Heart: 60k+ words of homeless Dean being comforted by the sight of Castiel, a billboard male model. Riveting. And the art is really engaging, too. Written for the DCRB 2023 by @thefandomsinhalor (Dean x Castiel)

Castiel’s 12 Days of Christmas: a little holiday spirit (kind of…) send to us by @mrswhozeewhatsis (No pairing)

The Race: As a way to amuse the gods, families have to run literally for their lives and the souls of their loved ones. And Dean needs to save his baby brother. An interesting universe created by @posingasme on AO3 (Sam x Castiel)

Taking back its leaves: The end of Dean's life seen by Sam. Since it was written in 2008, this future fic by Zooey_Glass reads like a AU ending. (No pairing)

Moonlight on the Water, Sunlight in the Sky: That time Castiel met Emma in Purgatory... a dadstiel story by @nickelkeep on A03. (Castiel & Emma, Castiel x Dean)

Original work

The Orphanage: an original work in short scenes about Diego the white medium by @verobatto on AO3. (No pairing)

[naivesilver]

WELL HELLO THERE 💖 Lemme just repay the favour this is not the last ask you're gonna recieve right now hehe BUT what say you to a littleeeeeeeeee no.2 from the Angsty Found Family Prompts for Archie and Pinocchio, huh? 👀

So, to conclude this absolutely RIVETING round of prompts... Do you perchance remember when I was talking about the eventuality of a certain s2 event happening in Thousand Problems? 🥰🥰🥰

ANGSTY FOUND FAMILY PROMPTS

2. Needing help but being unable to ask for it

Archie feels watched. 

For someone who was recently stuck in a predicament such as his, it should be unnerving, but he's pretty sure he's not about to get kidnapped again soon - his disappearance was meant to serve a purpose, and now that he's been revealed to be alive, he's safer than most people in town. At least, that's what Emma said, and he has no reason to doubt Emma's judgment on the matter, given that she's the one who had to crack the case. 

Still, he's acutely aware that he's not alone. He's lingering at Marco's house because for now, his own feels a little daunting, as does his office; luckily, his friend is more than happy to let him stay for as long as he needs. Too happy, even - he has a tendency to hover, Marco, fretful to the point of being overbearing, though it can be forgiven, in this situation. 

It's not Marco who's watching him, however. The realization almost makes his smile - he hides it, because he doesn't want his observator to feel mocked, but he must admit it's a pretty endearing sight, the poorly concealed red-haired head peeking from behind the frame. “Do you need something, Pinocchio?”

The boy startles, then, his hiding spot revealed, shuffles forward sheepishly, his eyes firmly fixed on his shoes. “No.”

Archie's faint amusement tinges with sadness, and he reaches out to take Pinocchio's hand, squeezing it gently. “How are you doing? I'm sure it must have been confusing, what you've seen these past few days.”

And confusing is a polite euphemism, he adds, in the privacy of his own mind. It was shocking enough to find out that he'd been declared dead in his absence - he can't imagine what it could have been like, to go through all of it as it unfolded. Marco seemed troubled plenty, and he is a man grown, capable of taking things in stride; for a boy of eight, it must have been a nightmare, especially so close to the end of the curse. 

Still, Pinocchio doesn't deign him with a response, and simply shrugs, not looking up at all. Archie sighs, sinking onto the couch to be at a passable eye level with him, if the boy ever changes his mind. “It's alright. I understand. But look- everything's back to normal now. I'm sorry you had to think I was dead, but they were wrong, see? I'm still here. Like it happened to you, remember?”

“But Papa says I was dead for real that time,” Pinocchio replies, his voice small and wavering. “Were you dead for real?”

The doctor resists the urge to hang his head in defeat, instead brushing a wayward strand of hair off the boy’s forehead. “No, I wasn’t. Nothing happened, I promise- it was all just a big scare, and it’s over now. I know it’s hard to believe - it’s hard for me, too - but everything’s fine. You and your father held the fort for me just fine.”

He’d hoped that would grant him a glimmer of a better mood, but Pinocchio seems to sink even further into himself, his hands balled into fists at his sides. “I didn’t do anything. There was a funeral, but Papa figured all that out himself. I just held Pongo and kept him away from the food, ‘cause it was people food.”

“Oh, Pinocchio…”

“Lampwick came too. He said it was just to eat for free and that you’d hate that he was there, but I know he just wanted to check if I was freaking out- but I wasn’t. I swear, I was being good.”

At a surface level, Archie would be almost peeved. He’s having the rare, almost unique chance of experiencing something most people won’t, hearing what happened at his own funeral, and he’s sure he’ll have to unpack all of it painfully and methodically, once he can bear the idea of being alone with his thoughts - that a certain rough-and-tumble boy was cracking jokes in poor taste for most of it is just the cherry on top, really.

But he’s not alone, now, and he can appreciate that someone thought to keep an eye on this boy when he couldn’t - and that he can resume his job when it’s most needed, as well. “I’m glad you had your friend with you, to talk about it,” he says, choosing every word with the utmost care. “Do you…want to talk more?”

A stiff shake of the child’s head, as stubborn as it is clear. “I see. Would you like a hug, then?”

Again, there is no answer; but when the doctor opens his arms it’s a matter of moments before they’re filled with a trembling bundle of child, all but clinging to him as Pinocchio shakes with sobs so hard it’s a wonder he isn’t snapping a bone. Archie lets out another sigh, then gently engulfs the boy into the hug, rubbing his back and shushing him as best as he can. “It’s alright,” he repeats, though it’s hard to determine how effective it might be. “You’re alright. I’m here. I’m not going away again if I can help it, okay?”

Pinocchio gives him what could pass for a nod, sniffing loudly now that he’s not trying to conceal his face anymore. “I woulda taken real good care of Pongo,” he says, rubbing at his nose with the sleeve of his shirt. “I swear.”

“I know you would have,” Archie murmurs, squeezing the boy tighter, and he doesn’t know which one of them is being soothed more by the gesture, but he doesn’t think it actually matters, at the end of the day.

“You’re a good boy, Pinocchio. I know I can count on you.”

[firstdivisiongirl]

I am sissy! Give me match ups, please!

Perfect and personality match for Tokyo Revengers and One Piece!

Hi Buddy! Just to clarify for everyone. The reason there is no description and I am still doing this matchup is because this is my real life sister! The older sister from Thursday things my sister says! I known her for 26 years, so no need for a description. I hope you like it!

You are Most Like....

Nico Robin & Shinichiro Sano!!!

Let's start with Nico Robin:

You are both chasing the high of the Scholastic Book Fair lol (it's a text post joke). But in reality, you both love reading!

Both of you have a scary sense of humor. Like it is disturbing.

You are definitely the mom friend of any group. People always come to you for advice (mostly me but still)

You two are so calm no matter what

Now time for Shinichiro:

GOD TIER OLDER SIBILING!

You both have terrible luck with getting a date!

You both are bullied by your younger siblings

You both have the cutest little sister (aka me and Emma. Wait...Emma and I are similar lol)

People are draw to you. I swear everyone loves you and the number of random people walking up to you to ask a question or talk to you about something weird is baffling

Now time for the perfect matches. You got...Dracule Mihawk and Takashi Mitsuya!!!

Let's start with Hawkeye:

He had you at library.

You two both love reading and books so I can picture riveting discussion about books.

He would love that you like quiet and hate Shanks (I get you hate Shanks, but he could be worse).

Cooking together!

I picture indoor date nights. A good meal, a good book, and just being together

You would love his island. It's dark, spooky and quiet.

Now time for Taka:

He would love that you are good with kids. He would ask you to take care of his sisters (or the beans as you call them) when he has to go to Toman meetings.

Dates would be lowkey. Bike ride and cafe maybe?

Because you are social awkward, you and Hakkai would be great friends.

You would be the number one fan of his designs.

You two would be sassy and sarcastic together.

The vibes are there

Note: Beans are a term of endearment

[mermaidsirennikita]

well now that the crown is over it's time for one last ranking of the seasons

Lol good lord

Season 2--I think this was the most dramatically consistent, despite the Kennedy episode; the cast was across the board at its absolute strongest; and the throughline of Philip and Elizabeth's marital issues was so good. The intense argument they had on the ship was literally just a couple fighting and was somehow some of the most riveting TV I've ever seen? Plus you had additional standouts like the episode where we saw the seeds of Charles's Various Issues sown after Philip almost kills him in a murder-suicide by plane because he's so annoying (while also doing some genuinely intense trauma delving into Philip's own childhood) and, the delving into the Wallis and David being Nazi sympathizers/the brief returns of Jared Harris and John Lithgow, Matthew Goode doing the absolute MOST!!! with Vanessa Kirby in that absorbing fail relationship... It was a lot. Even the Kennedy episode couldn't sink this ship!!!

Season 4--Olivia Colman had some adjusting to do (and so did Helena Bonham-Carter, though to a lesser extent; imo, the Matt Smith -> Tobias Menzies pipeline was the easiest transition the show ever had, and it's in part because Philip had such a personality transition due to his arc in season 2, so Tobias playing a more settled if still wistful for what could have been Philip who'd become Elizabeth's attack dog made sense) but she was fully settled into this cold but also weirdly funny Elizabeth, so out of touch and brittle yet also comically so. But let us be real, Josh O'Connor and Emma Corrin OWNED this season. The thwarted chemistry of the Australia episode. The transformation from shy Di to broken wife to resolved and jaded icon who's decided to break off and also use her influence for good. ALSO, the only PM performance that matched Lithgow's was Gillian Anderson as Margaret Thatcher. Her chilly meetups with Elizabeth, the one PM than Peter Morgan seemed to acknowledge was never enamored with Liz (and I think he's exaggerated a lot with the others lol), the general looming doom she represents... Amazing. Plus, we get one-offs like Elizabeth choosing her favorite child and the show trying to dodge it being Andrew, Margaret's hot young thang though tbh the show severely condensed that relationship (wrong season but my thoughts remain lol) ... Perhaps the most bombastic season, amazing.

Season 1--a great setup of so many issues that would follow Elizabeth, the only season where we see "the woman", fab setting in with Claire, Matt, and Vanessa, and incredible performances from John Lithgow and Jared Harris (who legit never fails to make me cry when he looks at his family for his last Christmas and starts crying). The "I ASK YOU TO MAKE AN EXCEPTION FOR ME"/"... no" scene with Matt and Claire is an example of their magic together. And I say this as someone who has never found Matt Smith compelling in any other role ever. Also, the way Vanessa Kirby made such a splash with her resentful anger at Elizabeth... God.

Season 3--I was initially frostier on this season, but upon rewatch it's still good TV and had some great standout moments. Tobias Menzies is an excellent Philip, and of course you get the introduction of Josh O'Connor, whose Wales episode and monologue about how he won't be a complete person until his mother dies (when we all know Charles will never be a complete person)... So good. It does suffer from the transition a bit, and I'll be real, I don't think Emerald Fennell really worked as Camilla at any point on the show. This also began the serious issue the show has with really glossing over the complexities of Camilla and her relationship with Charles--the idea that they had this straightforward star-crossed lovers thing, the omission of his other women and her genuine love for her husband and dislike of the idea of being Charles's wife versus his mainstay mistress... Meh. But still, good TV with some great performances. And I'll never be over "MUMMY I HAVE A VOICE"/"no one wants to hear it". One of the coldest takedowns I've ever seen on television, lol. Josh and Olivia were great together. (Also: a really good Anne, especially in this season.)

Season 5--there were things to like about this season. But ultimately, it was a flop. Elizabeth Debicki is such a good older Diana ("older" as in a woman who never even hit 40... Jesus) but the show seems like it couldn't decide between her being a little girl lost who was so easily manipulated, and a spoiled brat who was just upset that Charles didn't love her!!! I find Imelda Staunton horribly miscast as this rather watery Elizabeth, which is a very odd transition from the seemingly-silly-but-deeply-cold woman Olivia played. Jonathan Pryce could've played a really good Philip, had he had a script, and same with Lesley Manville. Dominic was a total miscast as Charles, and go from the FABULOUS scene with Josh O'Connor screaming at Emma Corrin about how she needs to be nicer to his mistress to this guy who's like. Breakdancing with the kids, because he sooooo loves the At Risk Youths (which is so racially coded, and looks a lot worse now that we know Charles is one of the people who asked about Archie's skin tone). The whitewashing of Charles in the last two seasons of the show is INSANE. One standout is the episode about Mohamed Al-Fayed because Salim Daw is an ACTOR!!!! baby but the show is also incredibly fetishistic and offensive in its treatment of the Fayeds so. At what cost. I find it rather odd that the show missed an opportunity to track the interesting angle of Philip and Diana's relationship after s4 (Tobias and Emma were great together, of course) because Philip really was advocating for her on some level up until the last minute in Charles and Diana's marriage (when Diana was like "UMMMM REMEMBER HOW YOU SPEAK TO YOUR BETTERS ROYAL WHITE TRASH" lmao because she did legitimately have bluer blood than Philip) and that's the kind of quirky thing The Crown used to thrive on.

Season 6--Again, Debicki and Salim Daw give strong performances (as does Khalid Abdalla as Dodi, but he barely gets time, so). Again, the Fayeds get a horrible treatment from the script, but in terms of acting probably the best moment of season 6 was Mohamed's reaction to Dodi's death. Otherwise, pretty horrible. Ghost Diana was bizarrely handled. This fiction that Charles and Diana were on good terms in the end was... lmao. She hated that man. Anyway, it was laughably bad, William and Harry were hopelessly miscast (justice for Harry, lol, PM dropped some obvious hints that he was less than happy with the royal family but I'm like my guy you really could've done more, give us stronger Chaos Harry foreshadowing you coward) and it just ended so weirdly. I hate.

Man, what a ride. I will always love the first four seasons. But damn, it crashed and burned.

[eddie-redmayne-italian-blog]

Eddie Redmayne on the staying power of Broadway’s ‘Cabaret’

By Kousha Navidar and Jordan Lauf Published May 19, 2024 at 7:01 a.m. ET

In the revival of "Cabaret," Broadway's August Wilson Theatre has been completely transformed into a Weimar Germany-era cabaret club – with the audience surrounding a small, circular stage.

After entering through an alley, you emerge in a space full of dancers, musicians, drinks and debauchery – and that's all before the musical even begins.

“There was a real desire for the audience to not feel they're coming to the theater,” said director Rebecca Frecknall.

Eddie Redmayne, who was nominated for a Tony award for his performance, plays the role of the Emcee, in which he contorts his body and voice to become a strange creature of hedonism.

“Of all characters that I've ever played, I find him the most enigmatic,” said Redmayne. “That's what's so thrilling.”

The Emcee guides us through the story of Sally Bowles, played by Tony nominee Gayle Rankin. Bowles, a British cabaret singer, thinks her life might be on the upswing after meeting an American writer named Cliff. But with Nazism on the rise, the time for carefree revelry is soon ending, whether Sally wants to admit it or not.

Longtime fans and newcomers to "Cabaret" are likely to find something to delight and surprise them in this new version of the show. It’s been nominated for nine Tony awards, including Best Musical Revival.

Kousha Navidar spoke to Redmayne, Rankin and Frecknall about the play, their creative process, clowning and more on a recent episode of WNYC's "All of It." An edited version of their conversation is below.

Eddie, your first exposure to "Cabaret" was when you first tackled the role of the Emcee when you were a kid. Is that right?

Eddie Redmayne: That is, as strange as it sounds. I think I was about 14 or 15 and we did it at school and I didn't know the show. I watched the film and was completely blown away by it. Ever since, I've been a massive "Cabaret" fan. I obviously saw Joel Grey's performance in the movie and went and saw Alan Cumming's version with Emma Stone, which Gayle was also in here a decade ago on Broadway.

There's something about the character of the Emcee that he doesn't exist in Isherwood's book that "Cabaret" is based on. He was a creation by Harold Prince, the director and Joel Grey. There's this abstract quality to him that is so riveting for actors, I think because he's impossible to pin down really.

While I was watching your performance, I was wondering how you considered the Emcee – as either a person or as a symbol or as a metaphor or something else?

Redmayne: Well, it was in discussion with Rebecca and Tom Scutt, our designer. One of the ideas we liked was that he's almost conjured the evening. The set has a beautiful simplicity to it, almost of a music box or a toy box. He brings these characters in and it's almost like he's the puppeteer.

Across the evening, he shape shifts. Every time he comes on stage, he looks different, whether it's a clown, a skeletal figure. The idea that he goes from puppeteer to conductor as the fascism creeps into the piece – that was something that we were looking for, but that it manifests itself in shifts, in voice and physicality. We played into the abstraction of him.

Rebecca, how early on in the process did you know you wanted this to be an immersive theater experience, that you really wanted to transform the place into the Kit Kat Club?

Rebecca Frecknall: I think when Eddie and I first talked about doing it maybe four or five years ago. [Laughter.] A long time ago, there was a real desire for the audience to not feel they're coming to the theater.

We were really keen to create something that people who are maybe not traditional theatergoers – or feel theater is not for them or feel intimidated by that – could come and experience the piece in a slightly different way.

We were first of all talking about found spaces or real club spaces or what we could do. Then actually, this was the one production where the pandemic actually worked in our favor because The Playhouse Theater in London ended up standing empty for a couple of years over that time, and so The Playhouse became our site that we could respond to and we could change.

We were incredibly lucky that the people at the August Wilson Theatre and Jordan Roth were excited to have us reimagine it there for that space because "Cabaret" is so much about the complicity of the audience.

Is that part of the reason why you made that choice to have the audience in the round, all enveloping the actors?

Frecknall: Yes. In the original Broadway production, the set had a mirror in the back wall, which you see again in the film. It's showing the audience themselves and showing us mob complicity and mob mentality and what that means.

There's a song that the iconic Bebe Neuwirth sings in the show called “What Would You Do?”, and it's a direct question to the audience. It's nonjudgmental, it's an open question, but it hopefully provokes some thinking.

Eddie, what does that add for you of having that audience in the round and it being surrounded on all sides?

Redmayne: It's amazing. The interesting thing for the Emcee is the other character in the scene with him is the audience, and that shifts and changes every night. The audiences that have come here in New York have been so passionate.

What's extraordinary about the evening is you get people dressed in black tie, sitting next to people in fetish gear, next to people in jeans and a T-shirt. For me, interacting with people from different walks of life who are finding different things funny, who are finding different things moving, it's live theater in its most essential form. Of course, that's why actors, we love doing it.

Eddie, I was struck by how physical your performance is. You're really contorting your body. You used the word “puppeteer,” and it's interesting because it looked like you were a marionette at some points. How did you arrive at that physicality for the performance?

Redmayne: It was a dialogue really with Rebecca and Julia, our choreographer. I'm not a great dancer, but–

Gayle Rankin: You are a great dancer.

Frecknall: Not true.

[Laughter.]

Redmayne: Frecks comes from a movement background as well and so we just started very early, didn't we? We had four months of just workshops, and Julia, our choreographer, brought the physicality out of me.

There's an amazing dancer called Mary Wigman, who's worth looking up on YouTube. She did a dance called The Witch Dance, which I found very thrilling, and compelling, and terrifying in equal measure.

Actually, even here in this city, the Neue Galerie has all those amazing Egon Schiele drawings. He depicts hands and some of those bodies. It felt very much of that moment. There was a bit of that and there was a bit of clowning. There's this school in Paris called Lecoq, which is a physical theater school.

I went and did a course there before Frecks and I started working on the theater of the absurd, and it was lots of mask work and all these things. It was lovely to put all of that in the cauldron, I suppose, mix all that around, and then under the guidance of Rebecca and Julia, find a way through him.

Gayle, your Sally has a kind of manic energy to her. What do you think is the source of all of that energy? Do you think it's covering something for Sally?

Rankin: I think it's centuries or decades of some kind of angst. With Sally – there's so much iconography and so many amazing performers have played her, and there's a legend around this character. I think it's why people are so drawn to her. Like the Emcee, Sally carries with her a lot of mystery. I think, especially as a woman, that's a really interesting thing to start to open a door into a character.

I actually don't believe that Sally intends to be mysterious or intends to cover. What I find beautiful and challenging about her is that I think she is intending to tell the truth at all times. I think there's something about the world that is quite difficult for her, and I think it's heightened. I think she's a creative soul and a deeply feminine soul, and in some ways an asexual soul trying to move through this world and we're watching that as an audience, and many people have many, many, many thoughts and feelings and opinions about what that is.

While I was watching it, I was thinking how now is, of course, a particularly poignant moment to be staging a play that deals with antisemitism. Eddie, you did this show in London on the West End a few years ago. I was wondering, have you noticed a difference in audience reception at this particular moment in time?

Redmayne: I think the audience reception shifts nightly. It's a very odd thing being an actor because you get to see how groups of people respond and what the ripple through can be.

What I find extraordinary about [composer] Kander, [lyricist] Ebb and [writer] Masteroff's piece is it's so razor sharp and specific to the period it was written about, but it also then, of course, sung to the moment it was written in, in the '60s – 20 years after the end of the war.

When it was then redone in the '90s, in the Sam Mendes production, there was a war going on in Eastern Europe, and it felt very pertinent then. And it feels extraordinarily relevant now.

I think that it's a testament to the piece that it has that specificity of the period, but it can also be read as rippling across generations, and the sadness that we perhaps haven't learned from our mistakes. I think John Kander puts it beautifully that he hopes that it will stop being relevant at some point.

[romanaisalive]

Fanfic Tag Game

Tagged by @sarcasticsciencefictionwriter thanks so much for the tag!

I'm afraid this won't be very riveting... I need to upload more stuff, I have a bunch of short fics I could technically upload but never got around to it. Also, the whole "writing three long projects for years" thing.

1. How many fics do you have on AO3?

13

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

29,956

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I have stuff uploaded for Doctor Who, Star Wars, Sanctuary, Dragon Age and The School for Good and Evil.

Out of these I'm still active in Sanctuary (if you could call it that) and Dragon Age. I partly moved on to write original stuff, but a DnD & Dragon Age AU story is in the works. I have some stuff for Fallen London too, just didn't upload it yet.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Cold And Consequences - 357 (SGE, Dovey/Lesso)

all my words are left with you - 221 (SGE, Dovey/Lesso)

Star Wars Fictober Challenge - completed - 129 (Star Wars, various)

All My Pieces - 116 (SGE, Dovey/Lesso)

Littles - 54 (Star Wars, Boga POV - written for fic exchange)

...what can I say, SGE fandom was very lively when I was active in it

5. Do you respond to comments?

Mostly! I really appreciate them all and try to answer always, some slip through the cracks though, for older works where I'm no longer in the fandom.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Don't Save Me (I'm Already Dead)

Canon compliant Luminara fic... The canonical character death was a given, then I spiced it up with some extra angst.

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

The Luminara lives AU in the Star Wars Fictober Challenge. I might have been compensating a little.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Nope! I don't think I post enough for that. Also, hate would require readers and other than my old SGE stuff I'm proudly representing the Very Niche Subfandoms division here. :)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nope! I'm the kind of ace where I'm not sex-repulsed but I usually skip smut scenes because I find them boring, no reason to write it.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Not really, more of an AU girl. I contemplated involving Warehouse 13 in my big Sanctuary fic just to explain where James got the exoskeleton from, but still undecided if I want to go ahead with that.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I translated one of my own fics once, does that count? I wrote it in Hungarian originally and wanted to post to a wider audience. (Never again, by the way. Translation is a whole other discipline, I'd rather write it in English from the getgo.)

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Kinda? We had some stuff with @cardeakelsey once but it never really got written.

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

Oh boy. Ever? I don't think I have one.

15. What’s a fic you’d like to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I like to think I will finish all my projects one day. Fingers crossed. I might need to rehaul some of them first to be feasible, though.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Mood setting, foreshadowing, internal monologues. Angst.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Dialogue.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

I sprinkle it in sometimes, not too much. In my opinion if two characters speak French it's better to just say "they switched to French" in the description.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

No idea. It was a WHILE ago.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Out of my published ones probably the broken and the damned (Dragon Age canon compliant) or Smile (SGE, Emma-centric character study).

Tagging anyone who wants to do it! :)

[marvelousgeeks]

n an unsurprising turn of events, Just for the Summer by Abby Jimenez is another stunning hit emphasizing the importance of healing from our trauma while finding a trusting life partner. From Jimenez’s two previous romances in the same universe, Part of Your World and Yours Truly, Just for the Summer is on the heavier margin, bringing in side villains like Amber and Neil to stir the pot in a way that can be deeply uncomfortable at times. Still, it’s a beautiful love story regardless, written with such compassion and heart in a way that Jimenez manages gorgeously with all her novels.

Justin Dahl and Emma Grant’s love story features one of the most riveting romance plots to date, bringing them together in a way that’s both oddly believable and yet so unique at the same time. Emma and her best friend Maddy find an AITA Reddit thread that notes how every time Justin dates a woman and they break up, the next person she dates ends up being his soulmate. The people in question this time also happen to be his ex and his best friend. Similarly, Emma’s dating life follows the same pattern, allowing them to propose dating each other to cancel out the “curse” when they break up. It all happens to work out because Emma is a travel nurse, allowing her to choose Minnesota (where Justin resides) as their next destination.

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