#FUCK GARETH ROBERTS

[dougielombax]

James Corden was literally ONLY good in those two episodes of Doctor Who that he appeared in.

Back in 2010 and 2011.

The Lodger and Closing Time.

(FUCK Gareth Roberts btw!)

[cynicalclassicist]

It is depressing how far down the deep end Gareth Roberts has gone...

Screenshots from 23.08.2022.

I know that he is gay and so to see him attacking pride now... transphobia really does draw you down a hole.

[doctorwhoisadhd]

hi. so not a single woman wrote for the sarah jane adventures

[1saysomethingnice1]

Looking back at The Lodger.

[dalesramblingsblog]

oh shit almost forgot to subtitle the eye of heaven review with "the bleakverse"

[weedle-testaburger]

i think it's lovely how often doctor who brings out the queer (or the queer ally) in the people involved with it. something about seeing 60-something peter davison casually saying he thinks he was accidentally a gay icon as the doctor, or billie piper saying rose would definitely be gay for 13, or mandip gill being excited about yaz having a gay romantic subplot with the doctor, or david tennant casually telling transphobes to fuck off, just fills me with so much joy

[verloonati]

A very funny thing about a good man goes to war is that like on paper, the idea of the doctor going all out and calling in all of their debt to fight overwhelming odds and save a friend sounds amazing. It's like, in a at the time 50 years old show this shit writes itself.

But instead of focusing this episode on Amy's trauma (Wich barely ever comes up after that given howuch of it is used purely for the sake of the twist and not like character stakes) moffat chose to focus it on the doctor "rising higher and falling lower than ever before". Wich uh, should not be the point of this story.

Instead of giving us a meaningful reunion of well loved characters, (like stolen earth/journey's end did two series before) they just brought back the pirates from that very forgettable episode and the airplane guy from that Churchill wankfest episode. A gimmick that moffat already used in the opening sequence of Pandorica opens where everyeaningful side characters of the season (and at this point the era) pass along that painting that barely have any impact on the plot (by Wich I mean it could easily have been anything else that initiate the plot and make as much sense). So because he already did this he has to introduce new characters Wich well if you're gonna play out the doctor calling in their debt, using said debt to introduce more than half side characters of the episode and introduce them as if the viewer was anticipating their return is a definitely weird move.

Instead of giving us a real enemy to fight, the church of the silence never really feels that intimidating. The headless monks are clearly just there so the doctor can hide under a hood. And having rory destroy a whole cyber legion just for kicks undermines the threat level of the church in comparison (that man can threaten a whole ass cyber legion what are some human soldiers on a teeny tiny base gonna do?). Where journey's end gave us daleks with a whacky plan to destroy reality, with internal conflicts and dynamics, a good man goes to war never feels that much like the church is actually that powerfull. All they got is an hostage

Of course a lot could be said about the way this episode threat homosexuality in side characters as a comedic punchline. Wether it's the nameless soldiers that get beheaded or vastra and Jenny first appearance their homosexuality is supposed to be laughed at.

And then again there's the "rise higher and fall lower than ever before" shit Wich Is? Very fun in the broader context of the show? The episode end with a tiny base evacuated with no casualty and a baby kidnapped. When you consider the shit the seventh doctor pulled against the old gods, and how far he went to manipulate his companion, what the eighth and war doctor sacrificed and the atrocities they commited in the war In heaven and the time war, the shit 8 pulled in the divergent universe. How desperate 5 was on androzani, how 4 faced the guilt of allowing the daleks to exists, how 6 got put on trial and made to believe he failed to save his friend. How ten almost become fucking rassillon 2, how twelve chose to wait in a torture chamber for 4 billions year and the moment he got out fucked up his whole society and his own laws to save his friend, how ten got gollumified for a whole year before getting up by a genkidama powered by the trust and love of his friend telling people about him, even how thirteen faced the litteral embodiment of time whilst her parent set the universe on fire for the hell of it. How litteraly seven episodes before eleven got trapped in a box by his enemies and had to manually turn off and then on again the timeline. Yeah I don't think winning a rock and losing a baby that you still know will be fine is that special among all of this.

[broken-clover]

Martha Jones is far far too smart and cool and pretty to have the shitty transphobic racist episode as her literal first proper companion adventure and then they have the Doctor bust out the ‘Rose would know’ line like I know it’s probably been said before but if she had chosen to kick his ass I would not have blamed her one bit.

[pugtor-who]

This is so, so true - and having recently been rewatching The Sarah Jane Adventures, you can really *tell* that that was her life between 1976 and 2006 (obviously with the exceptions of chasing adventures here and there).

One of the most profound things I picked up on from Series 1 of SJA was Sarah Jane's overwhelming loneliness, and by extension bitterness. It's there in the writing, but it's far more present in Elizabeth Sladen's acting choices.

The only excitement she's had in 30 years is her push back into the world of aliens, and it's completely filled her life as a way of giving her purpose.

I do feel that this also all connects into the fact she's completely written off the concept of love, and more importantly motherhood, that she doesn't even consider that it might be something she wants. She's clearly so uncomfortable with Luke at first, and with the way that caring for him makes her feel.

Obviously it's not something I can speak at length on as a cis-man, and I'm obviously not trying to suggest that "the only true purpose for a woman is to be a mother", but I think there's something to be said about the human connection that she's lacked/forcefully shut out and that experience of family (biological or found). I think it's actually a very cool character role for an older woman, and an interesting way of exploring her life.

tbh i think sarah jane smith is conceptually at her Most interesting when she's not travelling with the doctor, and we encounter the life of someone who really should be travelling the universe and was never made to be stuck in 1980s england, but has nowhere else to go and thus runs into trouble and never really adjusts to living in the real world again because for a time she was cut off from the mundanity of life and now facing the ordinary problems of an ordinary life is excruciatingly boring and painful in a way which almost nobody except a handful of soldiers and scientists can really wrap their head around (that she knows of). the life of a rootless companion dispossessed and cut off from the one thing that made life feel worth living can only end in two ways: death or a deepseated loneliness that isn't actually fixed by human connection. anyway where was i

[medusapelagia]

The fourth member of the band

written for @corrodedcoffinfest (Prompt 17: Freak) Rating: Teen and Up Relationship: Freak & Eddie TW: none Words: 994

Fame isn't everything, Freak knows it, but still, he can't avoid being pissed every time the Corroded Coffin are interviewed or he reads a new article about them. 

Half of the space is reserved for Eddie: he's the frontman, he plays the lead guitar and he's the singer, it's obvious that everyone's eyes are pointed at him.Furthermore, he's really theatrical, has a lovely relationship with another man and he's not ashamed of who he's, always ready to join the fight for queer rights on every occasion. 

Jeff is the second guitarist, Eddie and he usually challenge themselves during the concerts and they have a sort of music fight, guitar's solo against guitar's solo. 

Gareth is the youngest, they all treat him like their younger brother and now that he got into a relationship with a famous model he's always on the magazines’ cover.

Freak is the middle child none really cares about, the one that's so quiet and good that it looks like he doesn't need any attention, but the truth is that he does.

He's not exactly jealous of the other members of the band, they are his friends after all, but he feels that he will never be part of the band like they are.

Ok, Freak wasn't part of the original band, he joined when Andrew decided that attending MIT was more important than playing in seedy bars, and there's nothing wrong with that, but even after years and he's still "the fourth member of the band".

He's waiting in their manager's office, not knowing what to expect but determined to point out that he's tired of being ignored when he sees a check on Robert's table. The name on the check is Eddie Munson.

Freak shouldn't snoop, he should ignore the check half hidden under some paperwork, but Eddie is always spending his money so freely that Freak wonders if their shares are really equal as they should be.

With a finger, he slowly pulls the check toward himself and looks at the amount. He freezes. It's way higher than his.

Does he earn more because he's the frontman?

And what about Jeff? And Gar? Do they know that Eddie earns more than them?

Wait a moment… Does Eddie earn more than them? They are always wearing designer clothes and Gareth is talking about buying a house in Malibu…

"Hey, Freak, right?" Robert, their manager says, even if they meet each other more than once.

Expandable. Replaceable.

"Here... let me find your check. Here it is. Don't spend it all in one go!" Robert winks at him. 

Freak snatches his check from Robert’s hand and leaves the office, slamming the door behind him. 

At the reception, Eddie is talking with a fan, signing an autograph.

"Hey! Why don't you ask Freak to sign it too? Freak, would you mind signing an autograph for Angela?"

"You're the fucking frontman, right? Sign your stupid autographs!" He snarls, and Eddie's smile dies.

"Everything ok?" Eddie asks, frowning.

"No."

"Why don't we find a quiet place to talk?" Eddie proposes, looking at Angela for help, and the young woman shows them an empty meeting room.

"So, what's the problem?" Eddie asks.

"What's the problem, huh? As if you didn't know it. I just got my check."

"Yeah, I'm here for my check too. Are the royalties too low? I thought our last album was selling well."

"It is. For you. And probably for Jeff and Gar. Not for me."

"What do you mean? We all have the same share."

"Don't lie to me, Eddie! I saw your check!"

"Ok. There must have been a mistake but it can be easily fixed, why don't you come to Robert's office with me and-"

"So you can make up some other excuses? Fuck you, Eddie!" Freak says, his hand already on the handle when Eddie grabs his shoulder.

"I'm not lying. Come with me and we'll fix this in no time. I promise."

Freak nods, begrudgingly, he doesn't want to lose his place in the band but he's tired of being treated like that.

When Eddie opens the door of Robert's office, with Freak at his side, Robert flinches, but he quickly puts back on his plastic smile.

"Freak. Hey. I thought you left already."

Eddie sits on one of the chairs in front of Robert's desk and puts his combat boots on the desk, "You know what, Rob? Freak here just told me that our checks are different."

Robert sneers, "Did he try to contact the bank? Because they are under strict directions-"

"I don't care how he knows it, but I told him that's impossible. Because we have the same share, right? Twenty-five percent of royalties to each one of us. Am I wrong?"

"Maybe there was a mistake. I'll call my secretary."

"No. Show me my last three checks. And Freak's."

"That is sensitive information."

"I have nothing to hide. Do you, Freak?"

"No," he replies plopping on the chair next to Eddie's, who lifts an eyebrow and gestures to Robert to show them the checks.

"I have to search for them."

"Well give me my new one and we'll see if Freak's and mine are the same amount."

The man pushes his glasses on the bridge of his nose and grabs Eddie's check while Freak takes his. The amounts are different.

"How did that happen?"

"My secretary must have made a mistake but I'll fix it…"

"No. Don't touch anything. From now on you're not our manager anymore and wait to hear from our lawyer: Erica Sinclair is not forgiving."

"Wait, Eddie! It was an honest mistake."

But Eddie and Freak are already leaving.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't know he was doing that. I'll talk to Jeff and Gar and I'll make sure that we are all earning the same amount." He tells him, patting his back, "Now, I was thinking. How do you like a bass solo in our next song?"

[signiorbenedickofpadua]

Hi my name is Dream Morpheus Kai'ckul Oneiros of the Endless and I am the King of Dreams (that's how I got my name) and I have long ebony black hair that is really messy and inky black eyes like a starry night and a lot of people tell me I look like young Neil Gaiman (AN: if u don't know who he is get da hell out of here!). I'm not related to Robert Smith but I wish I was because he's a major fucking hottie. I'm not a god, but I have dream powers. I have pale white skin. I'm an Endless, and I'm the third oldest of my siblings (I'm ten billion). I'm a goth (in case you couldn't tell) and I wear mostly black. I love the designer Gareth Pugh and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a black coat with red flames around the hem and a black shirt, black skinny jeans and black combat boots. I was wearing black nail polish, white foundation and black eyeliner. I was walking outside my palace. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. The Corinthian stared at me. I put up my middle finger at him.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.

Room 1013 - Goodie

Day #23 - Up and Coming | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: E | CW: Sex, Under-Negotiated Kink (Including Unexpectedly Being Called Daddy), Mentions of Weight (Not Derogatory, Just Not Ignored) | POV: Goodie | Pairing: Goodie/OC (Female) | Tags: Famous Corroded Coffin, Winding Down After The Gig, One Night Stand, Mr. Goodie's Wild Ride

1 Night, 4 Rooms Each is standalone, but takes place on the same hotel floor.

Eddie | Goodie | Gareth | Jeff | Steve (Bonus morning after!)

"She's either into you or me," Gareth says, then looks at his watch for the thousandth time tonight. Gareth hasn't let any of the rest of them forget it all evening that his girlfriend is still flying in tonight.

They're just trying to wind down after the show, and all Gareth can think about is when Di is gonna get here. It's kind of disgusting. There was a time, and not that fucking long ago, thank you very much, that Gareth would have been working this bar like a goddamn pussy hound. 

And to Goodie's dismay, it somehow always worked. 

He'll never understand it. Gareth isn't anything to look at. None of them are, really. All decidedly average, as far as Goodie can tell.

Freaks, the lot of them. 

But Eddie somehow landed Steve. 

And Di's cute as shit. 

Both of them are punching way, way above their weight class. 

Goodie isn't sure why the fuck Gareth didn't just go wait at the airport terminal if he can't relax enough to enjoy himself. He can't make her get here any faster. They already went through this with Eddie and his dogged obsession with Steve, and now Gareth's acting like he's in love. 

They're all ate up. They get their damn dicks wet, and think they need to commit for life. Gareth from a few months ago wouldn't be acting like this, he'd still be pulling a girl or three a week, like he made a Robert Johnson crossroads deal, but for pussy instead of musical success.

The girl walks by again, and Gareth raises his eyebrows.

Maybe she is looking. Maybe not. Gareth definitely has an overactive radar for women that hasn't dampened, even in a relationship, apparently.

After Eddie and Jeff bailed for the night, and Gareth's on the payphone again, Goodie leans against the bar, waiting on a drink.

A hand touches his back, pressing into the leather of his jacket, like they're leaning in close. He's sure it's Gareth telling him he's finally leaving, but when he turns, it's the girl Gareth had clocked as interested.

"Am I in your way?" he asks, taking a small step to the side. There's not much room to maneuver, but he can pretend to make room. 

She smiles and shakes her head, "You're in Corroded Coffin, right?"

He nods, a little surprised. She doesn't look the type to follow their music, not really, not even where they are now, sort of barnstorming the mainstream.

"Yeah, I'm Goodie," he says, offering him her hand, "the bass player." 

"Bass is good. I like it deep," she says, holding out a Sharpie, tugging down the top of her tank top, "Make it out to Gina?"

He's signed tits before, they all have, but not usually outside of a gig. 

The stool behind him is free, so he sits back on it, and she immediately wedges herself between his legs, both of her hands resting on his thighs.

He braces his left hand against her collarbone, definitely for leverage, and not at all so the heel of his hand grazes the top of her tit, as he drags the ink of the marker across her skin. It doesn't look great, but he's pretty sure it was just a reason to approach him.

And he doesn't mind that, not at all.

She looks down as he signs. 

He lets go, and she grins, leaning close, pressing her chest to his, whispering in his ear, "Got somewhere for us to go?"

Hell yes, he does. 

He may have bitten off more than he can chew, with this one.

"Pull my hair," she says, and fuck, she's something else. She's already facedown, ass-up on the bed, and he can follow orders, grabbing a fistful of hair, close to the scalp, and tugs as he fucks into her. She's making a lot of fucking noise, and he's gonna get a ration of shit from Eddie and Gareth, stuck in the rooms on either side of him.

Hell, as loud as she's being, Jeff might hear, down the hall.

"Fuck me, daddy! Spank me!" she screams, rocking back on his cock. Fucking herself. Being called daddy isn't really his thing, but he can roll with it. 

He's just along for the ride. But he's pretty sure he can't pull her hair and spank her at the same time, not unless she wants him to crush her.

Hell, she may like that. Fuck if he knows. She's clearly a fucking freak, and from one freak to another, he's into it. He's just aware of his size and knows which positions work best. On his back, get ridden, is always a popular fucking choice.

"Harder, harder," she chants, and he slams his hips against her ass, over and over. 

He lets go of her hair, and smacks her on the ass. She keens at that, making a racket. He hits her again, harder, and she just gets louder.

Daddy, daddy, daddy.

Goodie tries to ignore that, and focus on everything else.

She slides off his cock, rolling onto her back. 

He catches her feet, and puts them on his shoulders, sliding into her. Then scoots forward a few inches on his knees, changing the angle, pressing more of his groin in direct contact with her clit. It's a go-to fat man move, and he's damn well-practiced. His secret weapon. 

He pounds into her, and she's damn near screaming. Not everything she's done tonight does it for him, but this definitely does. Moaning, pushing back with her feet, clawing at his thighs, tits bouncing.

He puts his hand over her mouth, and she comes. Loudly. And the way she's gripping and pulsing around his cock, he's pretty sure it's the real deal. He shifts, and keeps grinding against her, extending her orgasm, as he finally comes with a groan.

He's just slid out of her, still dealing with the condom, when she says, "Let me know when you're ready for more."

God-fucking-damn.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

[cchapsticck]

A couple things: 

The first album he ever owned that he got to choose on his own was Master of Reality when Wayne handed him 5 bucks at the used record store after he picked him up from foster. And he’s pretty sure Children of the Grave changed his brain chemistry. Like something in him got hard re-wired and soldered in place. Like there’s no unfixing that fix.

The first song he ever learned to play on Wayne’s old beater acoustic was Here Comes The Sun, but if anyone asks he says it was Smoke on the Water, which was actually second but the truth is possibly humiliating, considering his curated reputation.

He cannot read music. Which is funny, considering he’s had a “band” since 7th grade. He just kind of picks at shit by ear. Which he’s pretty good at, thank you very much. It's why he likes shit with solos, he can pick out a riff better than he can pick out a chord progression.

Said band did not lock down members with any kind of permanence until 10th and no one had any kind of electrified instrument until 11th because Jeff and Phil and Gareth might be better off than he is - drug money notwithstanding - but tuns out parents aren’t keen to just drop that kind of money so one’s kid can fuck around in another kid’s garage every couple weekends for that kind of price tag

Metal shows are few and far between in Roane County, considering all the ways it is. But the couple no-name bands that have breezed through town at the dive-iest of bars the county has to offer well - he doesn’t want to say, changed his life but - but he’s never been so glad to have been elbowed in the face because everyone’s having a good fucking time and without the accompanying “faggot” attached to the act, which he’s had a repeat performance of just. Generally. In his life outside of the shittest bars in Indiana.  

He’s not saying Zepplin II made him gay but Robert Plant’s face pasted onto that German soldier’s body made him feel some kind of way at a formative age and that’s maybe just something he’s going to take to the grave even if apparently the shittiest of shitheads just decided that was a true thing about him on their own.

Steve Harrington has been hot since, like, junior high. Which is horseshit. Because like, first of all. He sucks. Like, he’s a douche. But Barb Holland died and he ended up in the hospital because apparently those two things are related events and rumor has it he got kicked out of his house and he shaved his head about it and there are a shocking number of scars hidden under that disco hair and that, unfortunately, does not make him less hot or less of a douche. 

Another thing: Dustin Henderson is fucking annoying. Like annoying in the unremarkable way all nerds are annoying that he’s a little dead to (like sometimes he catches himself mid-tirade and thinks ‘damn, I’d kick my ass too’) so he gets it but also. He’s fucking annoying. He’s fucking annoying about Steve Harrington in particular which like. Hilarious. Go figure. 

And he’s got a lot of annoying ammunition in that particular annoying gun, because apparently Harrington’s been living in his basement. So the kicked out thing is probably true. A lot of what he’s got to say is anecdotal. Lives in the basement. Pays rent. Makes dinner for Henderson’s mom. Drives him to school. Owns a bat with nails in it? Which. Alright? That makes about as much sense as anything else going on. The weirdly dense law enforcement presence in the wake of the Holland murder (and those are feds, like, he knows cops, he grew up around a lot of cops - thanks Dad - these are not cops) and the ever evolving whatever-this-is of Steve Harrington which he is for sure paying a normal amount of attention to and not unloading his guts at Gareth and Jeff who for sure don’t want to kick his ass about it because are we all seeing this shit? It's been like 5 years of high school and this is a puzzle he is no closer to solving, as he is no closer to graduating. And it's not because he’s being a dipshit about Harrington’s gradual transformation no matter what Gareth keeps insisting. (he’s being a dipshit about graduating because he’s a dipshit - separate problem)

But like, something is for sure going on with Steve Harrington. And fuck him dead because he is desperate to pick it apart. It's got nothing to do with the horny goblin in his brain barking about the, shall we say, aesthetic realignment here (which maybe, like, is coming for the integrity of his own genre cred but like. Come on, man.) and it's got everything to do with someone like Steve Fucking Harrington willfully abdicating the throne to throw himself amongst the Maligned With Problems The World Will Make Your Fault. Like he had to have known the flavor of hell people like him and Hagan and every other one of those silver spoon fucks made of his life. And not just his, just like, anyone remotely adjacent in the social order. 

There’s this kind of unspoken truth at shows. Like metal, hardcore, whatever, any genre within a genre that fills up bars like this, like he’s pretty sure the punks even have this rule, this remains true: the more normal the guy looks the more fucked in the head he is. That guy is dangerous. That guy is working through some shit you cannot even begin to conceive of and this is only outlet he’s got. Like that guy will straight murder you if you come at him wrong in a pit and everyone knows it. You do not fuck with that guy. You do not make eye contact with that guy. So Steve Harrington in his tightass Levi’s and bright white fresh out the 3-pack t-shirt hugging the back wall of the Hideout on a Thursday night sure is a red flag. But red’s always been his favorite color, so-

So he buries his shoulder blades in the wall right next to him and hits him with a of all the gin joints and Steve just squints at him like he’s got no fucking clue what he’s talking about. Figures. Harrington always seemed like a philistine. Steve just runs his hand over his shaved short head, and Eddie swears he can hear the rasp of Steve’s palm over the noise of the bar. 

“You come here often?” And it's not not a come on and he’s a little prepared to get decked but it's also a genuine question. 

“It’s work.” Steve says, not unkindly but not really looking at him either. Like he’s not really interested in the conversation or Eddie at all.

“It’s work?”

And that gets Steve looking and he does not look impressed. It's cute. Which probably says more about Eddie’s ability to turn disdain into some semblance of private affection but we’re not going to unpack that bag we’re just going to throw the whole suitcase out. 

“Well, I can’t work the bar so I just pull people out of the pit. Work the door sometimes.” Steve says over the noise of the bar, by way of explanation.

“How about that?” he says with no small amount of genuine awe. “Mall work not cutting it for you, then?”

Steve just kind of one shoulder shrugs. Not cutting it in the sense that the mall like, fuckin’ burned down but. Y’know. Speaking in kind of a general hypothetical kind of way. Looking for a new career path kind of way. Less about the mall directly. Or at all. 

“Yes and no. I got punched less by skinheads at the mall.” and that almost sounds like a joke, like Harrington isn’t totally hating this conversation. Delightful. 

“And you’d willingly go into this line of work when Henderson says you can’t win a fight?” he says it like he means it, like he’s actually surprised. Because he is. Because getting laid out at a show is just some shit that happens sometimes. Assholes with something to prove, the wrong guy took an elbow at the wrong time, a drunk got in the pit and doesn’t know the difference between a good time and a fight, like, shit happens. 

Steve’s scrunched up face of repulsion and offense is additionally cute. 

“Yeah well, Henderson says a lot of shit about you too.” 

He may have been operating on the assumption that Steve actually had no idea who he was. And was just some weird guy who, for some reason, had a lot of personal information about him that was in no way reciprocated. Just kind of figured he would have been beneath Harrington’s notice in a big picture kind of way. 

Fuck you, Henderson, how dare you. 

“Only glowing reviews, I’m sure.”

“More or less.”

Alright he’ll take back point two, then. You’re on thin ice, Henderson. 

“Is that where the uh-” and he kind of gestures limply at the pit and then towards the thick, formerly stapled up scarring in Steve’s hairline. Like he’s come home from a show with a bloody nose or a black eye or two but nothing like that.

“No.”

It's the finality in his tone, when he says it that makes him suspect he’s fucked this up and the conversation is over.

And it is. 

So he hangs around the bar for the set and then he leaves and its not really all that interesting. 

But he thinks about that for a while, that something rattled Steve Harrington’s cage so hard he’s this now. Somewhere in the realm of quietly fucked up, and on the edges of good sensibility and good taste because its more comfortable out of a spotlight. Even if the dark on the edge of that pool of light is more than a little dangerous, but at least there’s a place to hide. 

And then Chrissy Cunningham dies on his ceiling and he has to keep hiding.  

[newtonsheffield]

I like to think Hyacinth uses everyone being distracted by Lucy's pregnancy to sneak around with Gareth.

One of my favourite scenes in OTWTTW, is when Hyacinth beats some lord with her purse during the failed wedding.

I would love to see a scene where Hyacinth defender her brother to Lucie's shitty family. "Only I get to talk to him like that!" Then tears a strip off them.

Oh I think Hyacinth thinks it’s ludicrous that Gregory’s going to be a dad a few months after he turns 19, but she’s also not going to let Lucy’s Uncle berate him.

So when Lucy’s uncle sees them out, Gregory gasping delightedly when he sees a Star Wars onesie, Hyacinth needs to step in.

“Luce! Look! A little Yoda! We should get this for the baby!”

“And what if we’re having a girl?” Lucy chuckled, adjusting his cap for him.

Gregory scoffed, “Star wars isn’t gendered, Loo. She’ll look cute as hell, right Hy?”

Hyacinth rolled her eyes, “Look… I hope she takes after Lucy. Then she just might be.”

Gregory flicked her ear. “Rude. You’re not allowed to hold my baby.”

“Lucinda!” A voice thundered through the store sharply and a man stormed over, his face furious. “Is this him then?!”

Lucy froze,swallowing convulsively, “This is Gregory.”

Gregory smiled putting out his hand, “Gregory Bridgerton. Very pleased to meet you, Sir.”

The man tutted, “Lucinda, he’s a child. He’s not responsible enough to-”

“I’ve got a job working with my brother, I’m a tennis pro right now and I’m-”

“A tennis pro?! Lucinda, he’s-“

“Shut the fuck up.” Hyacinth snapped, stepping forward. “Gregory’s trying his best in a tricky situation, but he’ll be a great Dad. He loves Lucy, he loves the baby and that’s what matters. Shut the fuck up.”

Unfortunately, Uncle Robert was not put in his place.

[platypusbunnyfromthetardis]

I don't think that there is any other episodes that I hate more than Kerblam. It might be the only one in the entirety of Doctor Who (1963 - 2005 - 2023) that gets me so angry. Because it could have been so, so good. And most of the episode is! but man that conclusion is just fucking evil (and goes against what the Doctor stood for not even one season ago = anticapitalism).

Wait no there's also The Shakespeare Code. But this one is more of a "aged like raw milk" situation, and it's of the first episodes I ever watched so it does have a special place in my heart, despite the Doctor fanboying over JKR and her words saving the world (and oh would you look at that, it was written by Gareth Roberts... what a fucking surprise. /s)

[quasi-normalcy]

You know, the Doctor Who fandom is fucked in all kinds of ways, but I do appreciate that basically no one is clambering for Gareth Roberts's return.