#i love british tv

[paperclipninja]

Ngl, seeing David Tennant's face in the middle of Heartstopper tripped my brain for a hot minute

[circusfreakgeek]

If I had a nickel for every time Daniel Mays played the phenomenally confused father of a human-appearing, moderately dangerous, supernatural being who could control stuff with his mind but didn’t know it at the time, I would have 2 nickels.

Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice.

[abostongirlinkentucky]

The writers of Black Mirror are beyond twisted. And six episodes this season is not enough.

[arkangelo-7]

Okay, but, what are the Batfamily’s favorite tv shows? It’s hard to find time between saving the world and curating their civilian identities, but when the Bats do have the chance to sit down and watch tv, they typically default to a certain genre.

Bruce by far has the weirdest taste in tv shows. Its why no one ever watches with him, because he’s the type to pick some random, obscure show that literally no one has ever heard of and is dubbed over in French or something. However, he does get kudos because he was the one that got everyone hooked on Squid Game.

Dick and Cass 100% watch American Ninja Warrior together. Dick started watching it when it first came out, and tunes in weekly for the new episodes. One day Cass walked in and was hypnotized. So now they watch it together and occasionally set up their own courses in the Batcave to have competitions on. Dick usually gets his ass beat but it’s still fun.

Jason watches period dramas. (This might actually be canon? I’m not sure?) He’s made his way through the Gilded Age, Downton Abbey, The Crown, and annually rewatches the ultimate cut of Pride and Prejudice. No one would expect the terrifying Red Hood to tear up watching Little Women, but man does that shit get to him…

Tim watches reality tv. The Kardashians, The Real Housewives, The Bachelor—he eats that shit up. Listening to other people’s problems and watching them deal with them in a removed way takes him back to his stalker days, and, hey, he appreciates some mind-numbing drama. Tim’s brain is like a whirlpool; sometimes it’s nice to just conk out thinking about what Kim said to Courtney, instead of that new project at WE or that new gadget he needs to work on for Young Justice.

Steph does not watch TV. She watches clips of TV shows on TikTok. (Particularly, those Young Sheldon clips that come up on everyone’s for you page.) On the rare occasions she actually does turn the TV on, it’s usually turned to Gossip Girl or a cartoon, and she doesn’t actually pay attention—it’s just background noise.

Damian is enthralled with National Geographic. He’ll deny it till the day he dies, but he loves those five-hour documentaries on rhinos and whale sharks or whatever. The problem is that he records everything, so the Manor’s DVR is always full, and it drives everyone crazy. Especially Dick, because by God, if there isn’t enough storage for next weekends episode of Ninja Warrior—

Duke likes comedy shows. Abbott Elementary, Parks and Rex, and The Good Place are just a couple of his favorites. He’s currently rewatching The Office with Barbra and they’ll quote it at each other during patrol.

[thekenobee]

Cabin Pressure + Poirot (Part 7)

[russell-crowe]

rhod gilbert and greg davies in world's most dangerous roads S01E02

[sulphur-and-honey]

is there still an inside no 9 fandom on tumblr. I know it used to be really active but recent seasons kinda killed it. Can anyone hear me. Please god the new season is fucking incredible. I genuinely think it’s some of their best work. I need to cry about this.

[uglygirlpretendingtobepretty]

Jonny goodman-friday night dinner

The girls that get it, get it and the girls that don't, don't.

[cary-elwes]

[rosalie-starfall]

Queen(ie) Elizabeth I

Blackadder II - 1986

[dramaqueer-commie]

this animation is honestly so beautiful

and maybe thats why im only now realizing the full absurdity of this scene... Brennan said "the problem is that the person who requested the aid is K2, British Kristen" and you know what yeah shes not even a follower of Cassandra! shes not even a person. Kristen reached out TWICE without success and then this british abomination says blimey and Cassandra is like "you know what? for this, i will help" WHAT WAS THIS SEASON I LOVE IT!!

[ackitscaramel]

what’s that one quote about how loving a hero means he will be the world to you but to him you’re only part of the world

[spctrsgf]

Hello :3

Could you write something where it’s Steven’s birthday, but he rather not think much about it because he doesn’t have anyone to celebrate it with and it kind of makes him sad. However, as he’s stocking up some shelves at the shop one of his coworkers, the curator of the Egyptian exhibition, approaches him to wish him a happy birthday and she gifts him a small cake she baked (she definitely has a crush on him, but is as timid as him). And Steven just melts because he only mentioned his birthday once and here is his crush showering him with attention.

cake

word count: 1.4k

warnings: language (I think), just floof, no use of y/n, steven being lonely (not for long dw), reader and steven being oblivious lovestruck idiots

Steven never liked birthdays. 

Well, that’s a lie. He loved other people’s birthdays. He is a giver at heart; he always wants to shower people with attention and gifts in appreciation. With the few people he’d been close enough to call a friend, he was a ball of excitement when the day came along. He provided the “happy birthday”s and corny gifts he’d spent the whole year brainstorming on.

But his birthday? The energy seeps out of him.

What was there to celebrate? He was just another year older, and another year passed without so much of a happy birthday from anyone else. Why celebrate something, like a birthday, if you had no one to celebrate it with? Steven had seen all the balloons, happy faces, cake, and the countless other things that represented a birthday on the television. Though he yearned to experience it, he felt like all hope had been lost.

What did it matter if he celebrated it anymore? He could get by without it.

Even he knew that he was lying to himself. As he woke up on the day he dreaded all the other 364 days in a year, he found the daunting facts hovering over his head: no one would remember. When he strolled into the museum, on time for once in a while, Greg, yet to remember his name, the thought hit him again. All throughout the day, he shuffled about his day in a sort of haze, ready to be off of work so that he could buy himself a box of chocolates to eat while watching some sort of sappy romance movie and wallow in his sadness. 

But, no, the universe seemed to be against him. Donna decided to put him on inventory again. It was the third day this week, and it was as if she knew herself and was just out to make his life even worse than it was. So there he stood, the last soul in the museum other than the cleaners, spending away the last of his birthday at work. How miserable of him. 

He shook his head out of his stupor. Steven, don’t sit around and pity yourself! He scolded himself for what felt like the millionth time that day. So much for not thinking about it. Sighing, he put his brain to thinking about the newest documentary he’d found to watch when he got home. It was on the Greeks, which were admittedly less interesting than the Egyptians, but still good nonetheless. 

“Steven?” he perked up at the sound of his name, nearly dropping the plush Taweret he was holding. When the sweet voice didn’t call again, he chuckled lowly to himself. Look at you, imagining things. Bloody hell, mate, pull yourself together. The door opened before he could move to scan the Taweret, his grip on it tightening in automatic response. Then a head popped in, looking left and right, and his body immediately relaxed.

You.

You, the curator of the Egyptian exhibit he cherished so much. He’d been by it so much, in fact, that he could remember every bit of information that was there, but he still found himself back there again and again, always in awe of the sweat and tears he could tell you shed while crafting it. On the one occasion that you’d been by while he was there, you’d shuffled over to him when he timidly called you over and met his gaze with a slightly shy yet informed one as you answered his question, honeyed voice like music to his ears. He appreciated the determination set into your eyes as you argued with Donna to keep the exhibit up, appreciated the humbleness as you were met with yet another compliment on your work. 

You were perfect, and Steven couldn’t help but fall hopelessly for you, even though he could barely get words out when you stood in front of him in all your glory.

“Steven, hey! What’re you still doing here?” You smiled softly at him, still hovering by the door. “Uh, well, Donna decided to put me on inventory.” Steven took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heartbeat.

You frowned. “Huh, that’s funny. I told her not to do that.”

“Well, Donna doesn’t really listen to anyone who isn’t controlling her paycheck, does she?” He cringed as soon as the words left his mouth, too stunned by the fact that you’d asked Donna not to put him on inventory to form any coherent thoughts at the moment. Gods, he was down so bad if that was making him flustered.

You snorted, much to his surprise. “You have a point.”

“Is everything okay? Why are you still here?” He asked, taking in the way that you still hovered by the door, most of your body hidden. 

“Well, um,” you looked down, seemingly shy. “I brought you something.”

He furrowed his brows. “Why?”

You tilted your head. “For your birthday. Today is your birthday, right?”

And that, that right there, was the type of thing that would make his knees buckle. The fact that you, out of all people, remembered his birthday when he’d told you a grand total of once. It was an offhand comment, you were talking about your mother’s birthday and he’d shot in that your mother and he had the same birth week, to which you’d asked which day and wished him an early birthday before you’d been dragged away by Donna. The fact that you had gone out of your way to buy him something, that you’d spent time and money on something for him. 

He was sure you could hear the way his jaw clambered to the floor, could see the way his hands gripped the countertop and he leaned onto it for support. “For– for me?” He fumbled. You nodded. “For you.” With that, you came out from behind the door and into the room fully. In your hands you held a paper plate, and sitting atop it was nothing other than a birthday cake. You placed it on the counter in front of him, and he could see the little egyptian hieroglyphics you’d drawn onto it with navy blue frosting. 

Steven couldn’t function. It was like you’d fried his motherboards, like you’d just produced the key that unlocked his heart. He all but melted at the gesture now more than ever. 

“Aww, Steven, don’t cry.” Your voice brought him out of his head, and he brought his hand up to his eyes to wipe the tears that slipped out. “I’m sorry, it’s just–” he sniffled. “No one’s ever done this for me before.”

“You’ve never had a birthday cake?”

“Not one that someone else has made me, no, not for a very long time.”

“Steven Grant,” you rounded the countertop to stand next to him, your stern face slightly terrifying. “That is a very big problem. I'm glad I've cured you of that.”

He smiled earnestly. “Yeah, I am too.”

“Also,” you grabbed the edge of the plate, dragging it closer. “I hope you like vanilla cake. I actually couldn’t go out and get more cocoa powder, so… also, the frosting might be a bit strong– I put some cinnamon in it.”

“Yeah, that’s better than alright. I bloody love cinnamon. How’d you know?”

“I saw you when you found those cinnamon rolls at the cafeteria… and I supposed you liked cinnamon a lot. And then I found some at the store, so I picked it up.”

“You are amazing.” He was sure that sounded sappy and that he had a stupidly wide grin on his face, but he couldn’t even bring himself to care anymore. 

“Says you.” you shot back.

Steven chuckled, turning back to his cake and swiping a bit of frosting off in an attempt to save himself from turning into a blushing mess. 

“Listen,” you cracked into the silence, twisting your hands together impossibly tight. “If you don’t otherwise have plans, would you like to come back to my place? We could get pizza, watch some movies, but only if you want, of course. I don’t want to intrude–”

“I would love to.” the words were out of his mouth before he could even put together a coherent thought about it. 

“Cool, alright,” You beamed. “Grab your coat and let’s go, Grant.”

Oh, how he loved his birthday.

a/n: thank you for this, lovely anon, i enjoyed writing it! and also thank you to @themistwithinthemystery for proofing this! feel free to pop by my inbox anytime, everyone, and leave a request or just a thought :)

[narnaboos]

guysss pls be mutuals with me and interact w me i have no friends💔

[saudrag]

nooo babygirl don’t die your so sexy aha

[jumping-jackalope]

I love Nelly so much its not even funny. it's serious. lethal, probably. to me. she rules.