#i have a lot more but these are the ones i remembered off the top of my head

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for qwertynerd97 behind the cut; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good! (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Yeah,” Billy says after a moment. “I’m not gonna make you do stuff like that. Um, well, like some normal chores and following your curfew and taking your phone with you when you go out, I mean, but not like–um. Yeah.” 

Lynn doesn’t say anything. He just keeps looking into the living room. Billy looks too, but doesn’t see what he’s looking at. His line of sight’s too high to be looking at Tawky, and the TV’s off, and–

Oh. Actually . . . 

Is he looking at the windows, actually? 

Huh, Billy thinks again. 

Lynn stops looking at the windows, or maybe just the living room, and then goes and opens the oven and stares blankly into it for a moment. Then he reaches in bare-handed and–

“Oven mitt!” Billy says quickly, zipping over to him and grabbing a pair of them off the hook they’re hanging on on the way. Lynn stares at him just as blankly as he was staring into the oven, and also just as blankly as he’s been staring at him, and probably he’s thinking Billy is stupid because he’s, like, invulnerable and all, but the thing is–“Secret identity,” he clarifies, and holds the mitts out to Lynn. “You gotta be careful about doing stuff baseline humans can’t, even if you think you’re alone or only around people in the know. And like, you have to make it a habit to do stuff baseline humans would have to anyway, or you might forget to when you aren’t alone. Also Batman didn’t install the new windows yet so I’m not sure if these are privacy ones, honestly, so somebody could maybe see from across the street anyway?” 

Lynn stares at him for another moment, then flicks his eyes down to the oven mitts. Billy feels awkward and kind of like a worrywart, but it is important. He definitely doesn’t turn into Captain Marvel when anybody else even might be watching, and also if Lynn’s keeping those habits from the start it’ll be easier for him in the long run, right? Or at least, Billy thinks it’ll be easier? Like–probably? 

He fidgets a little and tries not to look nervous. Lynn glances at his face for a moment even though his own expression doesn’t change at all, then takes the oven mitts and . . . well, he uses them more like potholders than actually, like, putting them on, but still counts, Billy figures. Lynn takes out all the pans and puts them all on top of the stove, and then closes it and sets aside the oven mitts and turns it off. 

“. . . thanks,” Lynn says more in the oven’s direction than Billy’s. Billy feels a little relieved, because “don’t do stuff baseline humans can’t when it’s not safe to” is a pretty important thing, so far as secret IDs and all go. 

“Sure!” Billy says, then peeks curiously at the food. “So, um . . . is it done?” 

“. . . it has to rest for five minutes,” Lynn says, and then turns away abruptly and walks into the living room to bring back the plates, which is, um, probably something Billy should’ve remembered was gonna need to happen before he took them out there, come to think. 

Whoops. 

Well, he guesses they could use serving dishes, probably, because Batman bought them way too much everything and there are so, so many serving dishes, but that’s more dishes to wash so yeah, Lynn’s definitely taking the right approach here, Billy decides. 

Though he has no idea why dinner has to rest. Like–what does that even mean, “rest”? It’s food. 

“. . . why?” Lynn asks, and holds up Tawky’s little plate with a faint frown. 

“Oh, Tawky doesn’t need as much to eat as you do,” Billy clarifies. Tawky only needs a lot to eat when he’s being a full-sized tiger, and he’s being an stuffed animal the same way Billy’s being a dad right now instead of just Captain Marvel, so he won’t have the stomach space for big meals until, like, the next time they have to save the world, probably. Or a mission. Or something like that, anyway. “Or as much to eat as you probably do, since we’re still figuring that out. But probably not, either way. Like–I don’t need to eat either, I mean, but like, different-sized stomachs and all, sooo . . . bigger plate, I guess. Sorry, is that rude, do you think? I wasn’t trying to be.” 

“. . . uh,” Lynn says slowly, frowning at Tawky’s plate instead. “Okay.” 

Well, it’s not exactly an answer, but Billy guesses he can double-check with Tawky later. It’s kind of more important what Tawky thinks anyway, since it’s him he’d be being rude to, and also he really shouldn’t be expecting Lynn to really get, like, manners and intent versus affect and that kind of thing yet anyway. Although either way having a full-sized tiger in the apartment would definitely not be great for the secret identity thing, even just for mealtimes, so they’d have to figure something out there. 

Well, he guesses they could just go to the Rock of Eternity for dinner, actually? Like, cook in the apartment but pack themselves dinner-picnics or something. Actually, that sounds kinda fun, he’d like to show Lynn what it’s like and maybe explain a little more about what accepting a share of his powers would mean, if he did, and– 

Focus. He definitely needs to work on his focus. That’s way more important when he’s being a dad. He doesn’t want Lynn to ever think he’s ignoring him, for one. 

“I’ll ask him later,” Billy says. Tawky’s probably still reading anyway; he was while Billy was setting the coffee table. He had the biography of Nikola Tesla they’d picked out, which is pretty normal reading fare for Tawky, really. He likes nonfiction a lot, especially the historical stuff. Billy doesn’t really get it, personally.

[icarusredwings]

would you recommend takin' over the asylum

Yes! And not only because of David but also the other charater's arcs are very intresting too!

It's on youtube for free and is only about 7 episodes.

TOTA discusses topics that were seen as very taboo at the time it was produced/written.

While we as mature veiwers can watch this and say "Okay yes there is misinformation" we have to remember that this was made before even going to a therapist was something people did regularly and openly admited it. If you went to a phycologist back then or even a therapist you were looked down opon.

This show shows and talks about things so subtly that you won't pick them up unless you've been there, OR you pay attention well. For example, one of the things with Campbell is that he is very "ego" driven, and Eddie has to learn how to balance him to keep him from toppling over and becoming manic. For example you'll see a lot of episodes Eddie will praise Bain and then scold him afterwards because in the begining episodes he gives Campbell too much praise/trust and it makes him have a break down because as I explain it to some "Once you get to the top of that cliff, you fall off"

At the very begining the viewer and Eddie are mislead to assume Campbell is a staffmember or a volunteer because of how open of arms he has, hes so eager to help and be useful, hes kind, and as eddie says "He dosn't *seem* looney?" And this is because he's very managable but his parents couldn't so sent him away.

Another reason I recommend it is the diversity of the acting and patiants. People often pin him as the silly side kick charater but Davids acting brings his story to a whole new level.

Campbell is also very energetic compared to most patients, and I think he's one of the youngest ones they have so he gets excited about things VERY quickly. He's jumping all over the place. Lil manic puppy. He always gets so happy to Eddie too, its very clear hes attached to him which (if you know) its very common for bipolar/ manic deapressivss to have that *one* person. This is what I mean by subtleness.

This show also includes topics such as (count this as a trigger warning too)

Giving up your boring job to follow your dreams (which was just ridiculous back then)

Immigration

Unfair justice system

Adhd

Ocd (id say her charater is most likely the worst portrayed but when you realize why it breaks your heart)

Abusive relationships

The taboo idea of dating a 'looney'

Quiting smoking for the better

Bipolar /Manic depressive disorder

Child loss

Self harm

Self ending

Grief

Mutism

Autism

Medical abuse of patiants/manipulation

Substance abuse

Different coping mechanisms

Homelessness

Another thing about this show I like is Eddie is very open to them, he treats them like people, he gets nervous and worried they wont enjoy his company even which means he cares enough about them to think their opinions matter whilst another worker states that they're loonies, no one cares what they want.

He takes care of Campbell a lot as well because- well.. He's a bit of trouble. A little scamp he is. But hes so cute tho. And YES David Tennant's accent IS in this one. It's SO much more thicker then say Crowley or the Doctor.

SPOILERS

Hell there's a woman who they claim is speaking in tounges but she's just speaking a foreign language in which Eddie only takes like 2 days to figure out because he had the nerve to LITSEN to her and try to see what she was saying instead of telling her to speak english and to take pills. The sad bit about this, though, is she becomes homeless because of getting kicked out of the mental hospital.

Yet another theme I like about this show is that A. The colors are just bright enough to keep attention but not get a head ache, B. Bain behaves exactly the way you would expect a teen experiancing issues would, happy, snappy, sad, overly confident all at once, in a blink. C. Eddie meets this woman with a mean dog and yet Eddie forgives this dog many times despite it tried to bite him.

The woman was older and was testing eddie to see if he's a good person or not, no matter how annoying she was to him, he treats her with upmost respect and kindness. She ends up paying him a lot to fix the windows, which gives him extra cash to spend on one of the girls he was intresting seeing as hes very respectful to her despite her depression and I want to almost guess Post Partum but I actually don't know,

ANYWAY He even takes her to see his grandparents and adopts kittens just for her because she loves kittens and some delinquents killed her other kittens.

In most stories, the doctor or patiant is odd and tries to manipulate the other into going out with them, but whenever she declines, he only nods and goes away. It doesn't feel forced either. It's very sweet.

Anyway YES. Please watch it like holy shit I don't have anyone to talk to about it!! The lady who wrote it was actually bummed it flopped because of how progressive it was but is happy its becoming popular now! Love you Donna Franceschild!

[syndrossi]

resonant ch28 dvd commentary

Favorite line(s):

Daemon cradled him to his chest, rocking him as though doing so might take them back to his first moments of life, fresh from the womb and bellowing fury at the world. I was not there for his first breath. I cannot live to see his last.

Sobbed like an absolute mess writing Jon's death, but especially this part. Daemon already has so much bottled-up grief and regret over missing their childhood and infancy, there's something absolutely gutting about him rocking Jon in his arms, like the baby he never held, trying to coax life back into him, this twisted parallel to holding a stillborn child, life snuffed too soon.

And the despair at living to see that moment, at wanting to die before seeing it. (Only to "realize" later that the only way either of them could have died alone like that would have been if he weren't there to protect them.)

Favorite detail(s):

Probably all the hidden meaning and hints/clues scattered throughout the vision? I haven't seen anyone pick up on the bigger (in terms of revelatory rather than being obvious) ones yet, but they're there to read back over later and be like "ohhhh." Or to reread and see if you can tease them out!

One thing I thought about a lot, and wanted to remain consistent about, was the limitations of whoever is sending the visions. The only things they have "seen" is Jon and Rhaegar's deaths, though it's unclear how. (Did the candle extract them from Jon's nightmares? Did the sorcerers peer into their possible futures before stealing them away?)

So that means Baelon's and Aemon's deaths were not visions they could have constructed, they had to have come from somewhere else. Daemon was there for Baelon's death, so it's easy enough to recreate that from his memory. But where did Aemon's death come from? That's sort of the linchpin, if Daemon ever fully remembers the visions. Showing him his father's death doesn't mean Jon's and Rhaegar's deaths were anything other than illusions meant to manipulate him. But the details of Aemon's death felt very vivid, very accurate--if Daemon were to confirm that, he might be forced to accept the other visions.

(So...where did Aemon's death vision come from?)

Uuugh there's so much I want to talk about with the visions and the stuff just before/after the visions, but it risks getting spoilery. Best I can do is suggest that people read and reread the candle's/warlock's/sorcerer's words.

Favorite dynamic:

Oh no, this is hard to pick. I actually loved writing the first scene with Daemon and Viserys. The whole: "Am I one of your problems?" "Do you know how to be anything but?" exchange was another favorite of mine for its breathtaking sharpness, and Viserys's immediate regret afterward. Ironically, I thought that this scene might be one to soften people a bit toward Viserys, but the candle has worked its spell quite well, with most taking the candle's side on the matter.

Viserys is, on the surface, someone constantly getting in his own way, barely more than competent at his job on a good day, and he doesn't have many good days anymore. And he's trying to juggle the mess of the family politics/division on top of everything else, including the Volantis wrinkle and sudden prophecy children + uncertainty over what to do there other than hope Daemon can make more, preferably girls.

He seems like the architect of his own loneliness and isolation, but it's not just him. You have spiders like Otto who benefit from him being isolated and encourage it. Would Otto prefer that Viserys show obvious favoritism towards Aegon? Sure, it would help his case. But his hands-off approach means that Otto can mold Aegon and Aemond to the future he wants.

And then there's the chronic, pervasive pain and fatigue which sap his strength/will and make it easier not to fight. To not steel himself for the conflict of a family supper and instead take the dreamwine so that he can stop hurting for the day. When he's not drinking dreamwine, he's drinking wine, which has a similar numbing effect.

The greatest irony is that in this scene, we get Viserys entrusting various responsibilities to Daemon, a gesture that actually means something. He's letting Daemon choose tutors (usually the queen's job) and he's letting him lead the candle investigation (usually something he'd probably let Otto do). They're fumbling toward an understanding, with Daemon recognizing his loneliness and attempts at connection, and Viserys choosing to trust Daemon--

And then the candle sidles in, determined to nip that in the bud.

Runner up dynamic is the dynamic duo of the twins at the very end, triaging Daemon and prescribing immediate cuddles and a lullaby. Rhaegar is more accustomed to a despairing, inconsolable parent, so he's able to take the lead here. He's also uninjured, so he can be a little more acrobatic than poor Jon.

Quick hitters:

We get a softer, older version of the cut HOTD scene where Daemon tries to convince Viserys to fly off with him on adventures/conquest. Daemon these days just longs for connection with his brother, so it's the Giant's Toe he offers instead as a refuge, with its childhood memories.

Jon is SO GRUMPY that Daemon left them with two Kingsguard to prevent escape. And the Cargyll brothers, no less, who are the most vigilant to shenanigans!

Another runner-up fave line(s) that made me chortle writing them: "Tiresome could mean many things. Merely contemplating Lord Reyne’s existence, much less interacting with him, was tiresome."

It's clear that Daemon's more than a little entranced even before the candle lights up, which is similar to how Rhaegar can get when he's "hearing" it.

This little gut-punch from @cloud-harasser's ao3 comment: "I also love how Daemon carries a piece of Aemon with himself always and feels him everyday in a way when he does his braids. I bet seeing Daemon on Caraxes with his braided hair haunts Rhaenys when the light is just right."

The death that Daemon is least affected by is Baelon's, which is mostly because he was there for it, and it was slow and drawn-out. He had time to prepare and even make his peace with it. He never got that closure with Aemon.

Aemon promising to help Daemon find a dragon when he returned. Only his body came back, and Daemon got Caraxes, so he did fulfill his promise in a way that Daemon never would have wanted.

Daemon's best internal sense of the vision is that he died early, some possible rebellion rose that resulted in Jon's exile and Rhaegar later fighting in it. Their dragons were either taken from them or lost early.

If the twins were overprotective of Daemon before, we are about to see them take it to new heights...

[stelly38]

“I can’t remember how much bonking I did”  —Aidan Turner

With Ross Poldark behind him, the star of Di5ney’s adaptation of Jilly Cooper’s Rivals talks ’80s excess, intimacy coaches and beef brisket.

Here I am, avidly watching the first few episodes of Rivals, the sizzling new Disney+ treatment of Dame Jilly Cooper’s raunchy blockbuster, before my interview with dreamboat-y Aidan Turner, when my 22-year-old daughter walks into the room. “What the actual?” she cries, open-mouthed in horror. “Oh my God! What are they doing?”

I chide her prudishness. “Well, if you must know, Rupert Campbell-Black and a woman he probably just met have reached a shuddering climax on Concorde,” I explain. “Your generation didn’t invent sex, you know, darling – the Mile High Club has been around for…” but it turns out that’s not what’s triggered her.

“These people are SMOKING! On. A. Plane. Who even does that?” Everybody, that’s who. Welcome to the sassy, sexy 1980s, Missy. Double-breasted suits and taffeta skirts, booze, bonking, endless ciggies and hairstyles so fugly (the mullet, for pity’s sake?) as to have recently crept back into fashion. It’s all there: rampant sexism, social climbing and conspicuous consumption, to a banging soundtrack of Eurythmics, Hall & Oates, Haircut 100 and the rest – no idea how The Birdie Song got in there though. Did people really...? Yes, we did. Now run along. From the moment the opening credits roll on Rivals, it’s fair to say we are immersed in a very different, instantly recognisable universe.

I lapped up every transgressive minute. Why, dear readers, the last time I enjoyed a pleasure quite so guilty was when Aidan Turner took off his shirt in…  “I’m not here to talk about Poldark,” says Turner very politely, with a fabulously winning white smile, when we meet. So we don’t. At least for a bit. We are here, after all, to discuss his new role in this very different literary classic – and no, ladies, he’s not been cast as the libidinous blaggard Campbell-Black. As if. County Dublin-born Turner, 41, was a shoo-in for dashing Declan O’Hara, the saturnine Irish journalist turned reluctant chat-show host who finds himself at the epicentre of a battle royale in the cut-throat world of independent television. David Tennant plays Corinium TV boss Lord Baddingham, and Alex Hassell’s Rupert Campbell-Black has ascended to the lofty heights of Tory Minister for Sport.

I could try to explain, but that’s about all the primer you need – rest assured that with this high-budget adaptation, even the most loyal of Cooper’s fans will find themselves safe in its (wandering) hands. “Rivals is about the three things that fascinate all of us: sex, power and money,” says Turner. “That trifecta is especially potent when there’s a clash of status and class. Class informs all sorts of things, including the sex, which is sometimes completely transactional on both sides. From the very top to the very bottom of the ladder, everyone’s slightly on the make.”

Speaking of the top and indeed the bottom, the eight-part series employed not one but two intimacy coaches. “They had a lot of intimacy to coach,” confirms Turner breezily. “I think they really improve sex scenes because they encourage creativity and it all looks so much more authentic. There’s a lot of bonking. I want to say I did a lot of bonking – I can’t quite remember how much.”

Declan is very much the dark-eyed, watchful outsider, his integrity as deep-rooted as his humongous moustache – “artist’s own”, remarks Turner. (He speaks in mellifluous Irish tones and uses his own accent to play Declan.) Amid the jostling for supremacy in the first few episodes, Declan’s only crime appears to be wearing mustard socks on air and having sensuous congress with his own wife (played with exquisite brittleness by Victoria Smurfit).

Such uxoriousness appears borderline scandalous in Dame Jilly’s masterfully constructed world of egos, oneupmanship and serial adultery, which signals that despite being a workaholic, Declan is clearly a good ’un – although, to be fair, I have only seen the first three episodes.

“I hadn’t read Rivals before. It seemed very British so it wasn’t really on my radar, but it’s really fun – although later on it descends into something much murkier. I just read the scripts initially and then was really struck by how faithful they were to the book,” says Turner, who is married to the American Succession actor Caitlin FitzGerald, 41. “You get a real sense of the characters in the first 15 or 20 pages and it’s a mark of excellent writing that you feel you already know these people.”

Whether or not you like them is up to you, but it’s absolutely gripping and Turner’s character is right at the heart of the story. “Rivals is a really truthful depiction of an era that in a great many ways was hugely problematic,” says Turner. “It’s not being refracted through a modern lens and some of it is quite shocking, particularly the way women are treated. There’s also endless back-stabbing; Declan is detached, the one who sees what’s going on, and because he’s not from this class-bound world [he] struggles to understand the playbook – but he’s married to a woman who does and that causes tension.”

To research the role of a broadcasting homme sérieux, Turner trawled YouTube to watch hours of Firing Line, the US current-affairs talk show presented by conservative pundit William F Buckley Jr for 33 years. From 1966 to 1999, he verbally sparred with leading figures of the age.

“I felt it was important to look to older shows, the way they were presented and the communication style,” says Turner. “The interviewee would be given time and space to answer questions in full. These days it’s very different; the nearest we have to that now would be podcasts.”

“Once filming started, to be honest I was channelling my dad the whole time. He’s an electrician, not a journalist, but Declan is very like him – the way he carries himself, the tone of his voice, his passion. He feels very Irish and so does Declan.”

For Alexander Lamb, an executive producer on Rivals, finding the right fit for the pivotal character of Declan was crucial. “The very first person we thought about – the very first person we cast – for Rivals was Aidan. He was the lynchpin because he just felt so right; he’s got depth but also such charm and that was exactly what we wanted. A lot of the cast was built around him.” That cast also includes EastEnder Danny Dyer, Katherine Parkinson, best known for The IT Crowd, Emily Atack of Inbetweeners fame, and Claire Rushbrook, who was in the first series of Sherwood. When it came to Turner, Lamb had been impressed by his previous standout roles as a vampire in the supernatural series Being Human and a clinical psychologist in police procedural The Suspect.

“Aidan hadn’t played sexy-dad-with-teenagers or an intellectual journalist before, so that gave the whole thing a freshness. I think there’s a lot to be gained from getting actors out of their comfort zones,” observes Lamb. “I’ve never really worked with an actor before who was so conscious of his performance. He would come back behind the camera to see if he could improve on what he’d done.” Dame Jilly, adds Lamb, needed no persuasion in casting Turner. “It did not escape her just how good-looking Mr. Aidan Turner was. Let’s just say she became quite the fan.” Turner responds in kind, with unalloyed admiration. “Jilly is so sharp, perceptive and really funny – she’s very kind, but as she was seeing the daily and the weekly rushes I am quite certain that if she hadn’t liked what any of us were doing, she would have told us very swiftly.”

Later, he quietly relates a telling conversation with Cooper at a garden party held at her Gloucestershire gaff (to call it a pile would be too excessive, to call it a house too modest), one summer evening last year, after filming. “I remember a surreal moment when she took me by the arm and led me around the garden, pointing out the place where she would write and how she would look over the valley,” he says. “And then she pointed out the houses where her nearest neighbours and friends lived and said, ‘This is Declan O’Hara’s house, and that one’s Tony’s house,’ and explained how she would visualise the world of Rivals. It was a very special moment.” How magical, I say. He nods very slowly, the corners of his mouth twitching, eyes crinkling at the preciousness of the memory. He’s so unabashedly soulful, I almost have to look away. And so, to business: is Turner really as handsome as they say? Hmm. Maybe that’s what strikes you first but, in truth, it’s the least interesting thing about him.

Born in Clondalkin, a town outside Dublin, before the family moved to a suburb of the city, Turner admits he was never academically inclined. With a low boredom threshold, he struggled to concentrate at school, but when his accountant mother took him along to dance classes, he excelled; he went on to compete in ballroom dancing at national level, but lost momentum.

There was a stint working as an electrician with his father, but it was a job at the local cinema that sparked his interest in acting, entering the Gaiety School of Acting, Ireland’s national theatre school, where he graduated in 2004. After appearing in several theatre productions, including Seán O’Casey’s Easter Rising play The Plough and the Stars, he got his first major television gig in 2008 in the Irish hospital drama The Clinic.

“I was a lowly receptionist and Victoria Smurfit, who is my wife in Rivals, was a consultant,” he smiles. “Let’s just say we didn’t have a huge number of scenes together back then, so it’s great to catch up now.” Soon the BBC beckoned and he was cast as Dante Gabriel Rossetti in the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood drama Desperate Romantics. The six-parter failed to make a mark, but led to a critically acclaimed role in the comedy-drama Being Human, where he caught the eye of director Sir Peter Jackson, who cast Turner as the dwarf Kili in The Hobbit trilogy between 2012 and 2014.

Various other parts followed, culminating in his award-winning portrayal of Captain Ross Poldark in the 2015 revival of the BBC classic, which ran for five series and made him both a household name and a pin-up among ladies (and interviewers) d’un certain age.

After he was shown scything a field shirtless, a sheen of sweat on his ripped – sorry – torso, the Sunday-night concupiscence became so pronounced that media commentators called out the reverse sexism and denounced the reductive way in which Turner was being treated as a piece of prime meat. A decade on, he still seems mildly baffled, but not ungrateful, for the attention, if loath to dwell on it. “There are worse things to be known for than having a nice physique,” he says, philosophically. “But that was a long time ago and I’ve done a lot of fully clothed work since.” Hilariously, in Rivals, Declan finds himself sharing a schedule with a series called Four Men Went To Mow, featuring a quartet of topless hunks – with scythes. Turner almost leaps off the sofa when I bring it up. “I know! I was reading the script and when I saw the Four Men Went To Mow reference, I assumed someone was deliberately winding me up. Then I realised it was actually in the original book, so I took a deep breath and let it go.”

I can confirm he’s fully dressed for our interview, wearing a mustard top by British menswear brand Oliver Spencer, which he dryly describes as ‘drab chic’, Levi’s 501s, and a pair of trainers. He points out they are classic white Reeboks with a natural gum sole. I admit I didn’t know that was A Thing. “To be honest, neither did I,” he shrugs in good-natured agreement. “They were a present from a mate of mine – he’s a musician so far cooler than me, obviously – and he was very emphatic that the soles were a big deal.”

On his wrist is a 1969 Omega Seamaster. “It cost less than £2,000, it was an anniversary gift and the only watch I own,’”he offers, pre-emptively. “Oh, and I’m not sponsored by Omega, none of that.” Would he like to be? I ask mischievously. “Ah well, I’d certainly take the phone call. You always like to have options.” This is all the more interesting because later I ask if there’s any truth in tabloid rumours that he has variously been earmarked as the new Bergerac and the next James Bond. He denies both charges. “But you’d take the calls presumably?” I suggest. A pregnant pause follows. “You know, I don’t think I would. I have to say I think I’d pass on those.” Bergerac I can understand – but intimations of 007 are, like talk of knighthoods, not to be trifled with, much less dismissed out of hand, however cat’s-chance unlikely.

Turner just pulls a slightly apologetic face (possibly for the benefit of his aghast agent reading this). But really it should come as no surprise; Turner has built up a reputation as a protean performer, moving seamlessly between television, film and the stage in a variety of markedly different roles. Last year he appeared opposite Jenna Coleman in a minimalist two-hander, the West End revival of Sam Steiner’s 2015 fringe hit Lemons Lemons Lemons Lemons Lemons, about love and language. Director Josie Rourke says she cast Turner not just because he is ‘brilliant’, but because he has an ability to connect with his character and with the audience.

“Aidan is a very technical and focused actor who really works hard to prepare – in that respect he’s not dissimilar to David Tennant. That might make him sound dour or serious, but he’s very personable and funny,” says Rourke, a former artistic director of the Donmar Warehouse in London. “He’s acutely aware, in a lovely way, of every single person in the room. There’s something fundamentally unselfish about his performances.”

Off stage, Turner leads a quiet life with his family in an 18th-century house in east London, which he famously furnished with the table and chairs from the Poldark set in Cornwall. He looks amused when I wonder aloud if he hangs out – virtually or actually – with the slew of young Irish actors, like Paul Mescal and Barry Keoghan, who have made a name for themselves. “It sounds boring but I work, and then when a project is finished I start reading scripts again,” he says. “I’m not on social media, I don’t get wrapped [up] comparing myself to anyone else. Frankly, it’s hard enough keeping track of my own career. Since the birth of our son, my wife and I have agreed that only one of us will take a job away from home at any given time; we’ve not [had] a clash yet but we’ll have to see what happens when the time comes.”

They did, however, both have plays on in the West End at one point last year; he was appearing in Lemons while she was in The Crucible. “It worked out really well, we headed out in different directions during the day, catching up with friends and getting stuff done, far too busy to see each other,” he recalls. “Each of us did our show then we would meet up afterwards and share a cab home. It was really fun, but that sort of synchronicity is quite rare.” Like a lot of actors, Turner is guarded when it comes to discussing his personal life. Although frenzied interest from the paparazzi has calmed down post-Poldark, every so often pictures do appear in the tabloids – and Rivals will no doubt increase his bankability. It is something he accepts with equanimity.

“If I do get snapped, I don’t make a fuss or get angry, but I try to stay out of the way.” I remind him of a very striking photo of him putting the rubbish out in a frankly extraordinary receptacle. “Ah yes, maybe I should get rid of the fluorescent pink wheelie bin, a bit of an own goal,” he sighs.

I bet he doesn’t. Far too much of a compromise. I do manage to winkle a few details out of him by playing my fellow Irishwoman card and discover that he’s a ‘serious’ pool player – just this week he settled down in front of a recording of Steve Davis and his teammates taking the 2002 Mosconi Cup in Bethnal Green. He plays golf, enjoys music, and is an avowed Nick Cave fan.

“I’d have to say my favourite downtime is having friends round for good banter and food in the garden, weather allowing. I’m trying to perfect the manly art of beef brisket in my [Big] Green Egg barbecue. I think one of the reasons Rivals was such a happy show to work on was because so many of the scenes were us all together at parties. Then at the end of the day we’d kick back and half of us would still be in character.”

And what characters they are, all dressed up in their ’80s finery, jockeying for position, angling for seduction as Tears for Fears belt out ‘Everybody Wants to Rule the World.’ Gen Z won’t understand, much less approve (lock up your 22-year-olds), but as a snapshot of a bygone age, Rivals promises to be TV gold, and at its glittering epicentre, Declan O’Hara, legendary brooding broadcaster with the biggest ’tache in town.

All episodes of Rivals are available on Di5ney+ from 18 October

Interview by Judith Woods from The Telegraph; Photos by John Balsom.

[captainsophiestark]

Naval Wedding

Natasha "Phoenix" Trace x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Top Gun

Summary: Phoenix needs a fake date to a Naval wedding to avoid sailors hitting on her all night, so who better to ask than her best friend?

Word Count: 2,925

Category: Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"I have a favor to ask you."

I sighed dramatically, making a show of pulling my attention from my laptop to my best friend, Natasha "Phoenix" Trace, who sat across the table from me. She held her coffee mug with both hands and stared intently at me. Clearly, whatever she was about to say next had been on her mind for a bit now.

"It's something I need you to help me out with, if you don't mind. And if you're not busy."

I raised an eyebrow, closing my laptop and leaning across the table to match Natasha's posture.

"Okay, spit it out, Nat. You've never danced around something the way you're doing right now the entire time I've known you. What's wrong?"

Nat took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, then met my eyes with a new determination.

"I need you to be my fake date for a Navy wedding next weekend."

Honestly, I wasn't sure what I'd been expecting her to say, but it definitely wasn't that. The corner of my mouth quirked up in a smile, and I had to work to hold back a laugh.

"Nat... first of all, I'm in." Her shoulders immediately relaxed, the dire look on her face morphing into one of relief as she eaased back in her chair. I shook my head, still smiling. "Second, you seriously need to work on your delivery. I thougth you were about to ask me to help you hide a body."

Her eyebrow shot up.

"You thought I prefaced asking you to hide a body with 'if you don't mind' and 'if you're free'?"

I just shrugged and waved her off. "You were crazy grim and looked more stressed than I've ever seen you. I didn't think the favor was gonig to involve a party. Which brings me to third: why? I'm happy to go with you, but I'm a little surprised you're asking."

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "You know I work with a lot of men. Most of them are fine. Some of them are great. Some of them I want to punch in the nose sometimes. But at big Navy weddings, there's always tons of pilots I'm not familiar with, and at least a few of them always try to hit on me. This time, I don't want to deal with it. So... fake date."

I grinned. "Natasha Trace. Are you telling me that I get to scare off Naval Aviators all night if they try to hit on my girlfriend?"

Natasha grinned and shook her head with a laugh. I waited until she faced me again, then raised an eyebrow since she still hadn't answered my question.

"Alright, sure. You get to scare off anybody who flirts with me, any way you want to."

"Amazing."

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

The next weekend, I stood in front of the mirror adjusting my outfit nervously while I waited for Natasha to arrive. We were meeting at my house, then driving over together.

When I'd told her I'd be happy to go as her fake date to this wedding, it had been a partial lie. I'd been wrestling with some feelings for my best friend since a few months ago, and I wasn't completely thrilled about the "fake" part of "fake date". When my doorbell finally rang and I opened the door to find Natasha looking like an absolute knockout, my heart did a few backflips before breaking in half as I remembered that she wasn't actually here for a real date.

"Wow," she said, sounding a little breathier than normal as she looked me up and down. "You look great."

"Me? Nat, you look stunning. Like, wow."

Nat looked up and met my eyes with a smile.

"Well, then I guess we make a good pair."

My heart did another flip, so I took a deep breath and stepped through the door to join Nat on the porch before she could give me a heart attack.

"Those Navy boys won't know what hit 'em," I declared, holding my arm out for Nat. She took it with a grin, and we headed for the car arm in arm. My heart skipped a couple beats at the proximity, and I did my best to tell it to shut up.

It mostly listened throughout the wedding ceremony. When we got to the venue, we got some looks and some raised eyebrows, especially from Natasha's closest Navy friends, who she apparently hadn't told about her plan. I got to ditch Hangman to cross the room and chase off a more tangentally-invited pilot who'd been hitting on Nat, which had been a highlight of the night so far, especially as she leaned into my side and I wrapped an arm around her. Unfortunately, we didn't get to linger, since we had to take our seats for the wedding itself.

It was beautiful, and thankfully, didn't stretch on too long. Before I knew it, we were heading to the reception, throwing a few of Nat's aviator friends in the back of the car to get to the venue hosting the reception. We blasted music, laughed, and I even got up the courage to reach out and take Nat's hand while she drove. She turned to me with a grin and squeezed my hand back, and I tried not to let my imagination run away from me about whether that might mean something.

We pulled into the venue, and Natasha immediately took my hand in hers. I bumped my shoulder into hers, and we shared a grin as we flowed through the doors with the rest of the wedding guests. The music was already blasting, and people were floating around and snacking while we waited for the bride and groom to arrive with the rest of the wedding party. Nat's friends went ahead of us as she stopped, turning to me with a smile.

"Alright, what's first? Food or drinks?"

"Hmm... I know the guests of honor aren't here yet, but what about dance floor?"

She laughed. "Okay, drinks it is. If you actually want to pull me out there, I'm going to need more than just water in my veins."

"I don't think the alcohol actually goes into your veins-"

"You know what I mean! Come on, I'll get you your favorite. On me."

"Isn't it an open bar?"

"And isn't it the thought that counts?"

I laughed, letting Natasha pull me along and through the crowd, trailing after her with a happy smile. When she came to a stop at the bar, tugging me up to stand next to her, I had to fight very hard against the urge to lean in and kiss her, then and there. I swallowed, but managed to get a hold of myself and respond to her instead.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's the thought that counts."

Nat and I ate the snacks and chatted with her close friends while we waited for the couple to arrive, and then for the party to really start. Dinner was delicious, the toasts were sweet, and not long after the last one finished, the dance floor officially opened for business.

I turned to Nat, intending to make good on my answer of what I first wanted to do when we got here, but I found her facing in the other direction as some guy in a suit smiled down at her, one of his hands resting on the back of her chair. I narrowed my eyes.

He didn't notice me, he was too focused on Nat. I knew she was more than capable of telling him to get lost on her own, but I also knew that the main reason she'd asked me to be her date at all tonight was to avoid dealing with clowns like these. I stood and walked around to stand next to him, pushing my way into the spot between him and the table and holding a hand out to Nat.

"Hey, babe," I said, smiling at Nat without sparing a glance for the guy. "You ready to hit the dancefloor?"

She grinned back at me in sync with the guy beside me saying "Babe?" as a clear question directed at me. I turned to face him like I had all the time in the world, keeping a straight face as I met his eyes.

"Yeah. That's generally what I call my girlfriend. You got a comment about that?"

The guy blanched, taking a half step back and removing his arm from the back of Natasha's chair.

"Uh... no. Sorry."

"Don't apologize to me, she's the one who had to put up with some random guy trying to put moves on her."

The guy scowled, but he muttered a quick apology to Natasha all the same before heading off into the crowd again. I watched him go, then turned to Nat with the massive grin I'd been holding back the whole time.

She shook her head, mirroring my grin all the same.

"You have way too much fun doing that."

I shrugged. "Maybe. But you don't have any fun doing it for yourself, so this seems like by far the best option."

"I guess I can't argue with you there."

"You're right, you can't. Now come on, I want to dance with my girlfriend. Let's get out there."

My heart hammered in my chest at my own words, worried that I'd overstepped, even in the context of a group in public for our fake-date situation. But Natasha just smiled at me again, softer this time, and took my hand.

"Fine. I guess I'm tipsy enough for this. Barely."

I laughed, pulling her out onto the dancefloor behind me. Tipsy or not, I usually enjoyed making a fool of myself on the dancefloor, and it turned out to be even better with Nat's hand in mine, the two of us spinning in and out of each other's arms.

The rest of the wedding party disappeared as we lost ourselves in the music, just the two of us, breathing hard between laughs and holding each other tightly. Eventually, the music wound down from the high-energy stuff we'd been listening to, shifting to something made for slow dancing. We stuttered to a stop on the floor as couples flocked in all around us, and I looked at Nat.

She shrugged, stepping closer to me and putting her hands on my waist.

"We're supposed to be a couple too, right?"

I grinned back at her. "Damn right."

I laid my arms across Nat's shoulders and the two of us swayed back and forth on the dancefloor, the low lights sweeping over us as we moved. I couldn't take my eyes off of her, and the corner of her mouth lifted up like she'd noticed. Slowly, she leaned in, and my heart just about stopped in my chest. She rested her forehead against mine, and I sighed, half content to stay here like this with her as long as she wanted, half disappointed she hadn't been going in for a kiss.

When the music of the slow dance faded, we just stayed where we were for a long moment before finally pulling away from each other. I opened my mouth to say something, although I wasn't totally sure what yet, but before either of us got the chance to speak the music picked up again, and her closer aviator friends swarmed us on the dancefloor.

"I can't believe you got Phoenix out to dance!" called Fanboy, grinning as he threw one arm over her shoulder, jumping up and down to the beat. Natasha tried to duck his arm, presumably to ditch the dancefloor, but Fanboy knew her well enough that he managed to stop her. I gave them a half-hearted smile, then took the opportunity myself to slip away from the crowd.

I knew Nat probably would've wanted me making up a girlfriend excuse to get her out of there. Normally I would've helped her, but that moment on the dancefloor before her friends showed up had felt so real, and I needed to take a moment to remind myself that it wasn't.

I ducked and weaved through the crowd with relative ease, since only Nat's close friends would've recognized me and they were all out on the dancefloor. I made my way to the bar, not even ordering, just leaning against it for a second. Enough other people hovered around that it'd be hard to spot me amongst the crowd, but I could still see Nat out on the dancefloor, laughing and smiling even as she shook her head and tried to tell her friends to get lost.

I was in love with her. Her attitude, confidence, strength, wit. The way she smiled at me when I said something funny or called Hangman "Bagman" even though I barely knew him and had no reason (other than loyalty to Nat) to use the nickname. I was in love with her, and I had been for a long time, but after tonight, I wasn't going to be able to ignore it anymore. This night had been a mistake.

"Hey! You want a drink?"

I reluctantly turned to face the person shouting in my ear only to find Rooster, one of Natasha's best friends, leaning over to talk to me, his shirt unbuttoned and his tie around his head.

"Uh... that's okay," I said. "I think I'm good."

"You sure? You made me a lot of money tonight!"

I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow at him, but he was drunk enough that he didn't get the hint. He turned and quickly snagged two bottles of beer from the bartender, who had to explain to Rooster that it was an open bar and he didn't need to pay, before Rooster finally turned back to me with a grin.

"Want one of these?"

"No," I said, gently pushing aside the bottle he offered me as I took a step forward. "Rooster, what do you mean I made you a lot of money tonight?"

"Technically you and Phoenix! Everybody kept betting that you guys weren't going to figure out your shit for another month at least, but I had faith-"

"Bradley, what the hell are you talking about?"

"You guys!" he said, motioning emphatically with the beers in his hands between me and the dancefloor, where Nat had been cajoled into enjoying at least one song. "Finally getting together! After hearing her wax poetic about how great you are since the day you guys met, we started taking bets on when she'd finally do something about it. And I won! So, thanks!"

"Hold on..." I reached out, taking Rooster's arm to steady myself. The room had started spinning around me, and it had nothing to do with alcohol. "Roos, what are you saying? What do you mean, Nat's been talking about me since the day we met?"

"Ah, I probably shouldn't have told you," he said, shaking his head and at last lowering his voice to normal volume, although it was still far from a whisper. "But it's probably fine now, since you're dating. God, she used to drive us all crazy talking about how great you were and how much of a thing she had for you. It's probably gonna get worse now though, since you guys finally admitted you were pining after each other- Hey, where are you going?"

I ignored Rooster as I headed back to the dance floor, a buzzing in my brain as his words echoed. He was clearly drunk, but if anything, that made me more confident that what he'd told me was the truth. The whole time I'd been driving myself crazy trying not to admit feelings for one of my best friends, she'd been doing the same thing.

Before I knew it, I stood in front of Natasha again. The music still thumped, people laughing and jumping and twirling all around us, but I barely noticed. Nat stood to one side of Fanboy, with Bob on his other side, the two of them holding him up as he attempted to drag them both into a dance, so it took Nat a minute to notice me. But once she did, she straightened up.

"Hey, are you okay?"

I nodded, taking a step closer to her.

"Rooster spilled his guts. You like me. For real."

Shock registered on her face, then straight rage as she whipped her head around to look for Rooster. I just grinned, pushing Fanboy's arm off her as I closed the rest of the distance between us.

"Nat. I like you, too. For real."

She whipped her head back around so quickly that she almost broke my nose. Her wide eyes searched mine, one eyebrow raised.

"Are you kidding?"

"Hell no I'm not kidding. Nat... can I kiss you?"

She grinned, any trace of trepidation or irritation melting away all at once.

"Hell yeah you can."

I grinned back, letting my hand come up to the back of her neck as I leaned in and finally, finally kissed Natasha. She wrapped an arm tightly around my waist, pulling me closer to her as we deepened the kiss. Some cheers and whoops from her friends snapped us both out of it enough to finally pull away, both of us smiling delirious-looking smiles.

"I'm so glad you asked me to be your date to this, Nat," I breathed, letting my arms fall to rest on her shoulders. Her hands came onto my waist, her smile turning into more of a grin.

"Me too. Although, I am looking forward to an opportunity for a real date, without my idiot friends in range or any other people trying to hit on me."

"Sounds great. How about... tomorrow night?"

Nat threw her head back and laughed, but when she met my eyes again and saw me looking as serious as ever, she grinned again.

"Alright. Tomorrow night it is."

"I can't wait."

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

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

Top Gun Taglist: @elenavampire21

[hlficlibrary]

✤ Girl Direction ✤

A series of posts with the top five fics of each category by kudos plus five more hidden gems from that category! Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find our other recs here.

- Top 5 H/L Fics -

1️⃣ Who Run the World? (Girls!) by dolce_piccante {M, 11k}

A femslash take on the beginning of Relief Next To Me, complete with girl!Direction, lots of tongue action, and lots of hints to the original work.

2️⃣ Tell Me This Is Paradise by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird {E, 19k}

Harry Styles has been lucky in love but unlucky in the bedroom with all of her previous boyfriends. When her best friend Niall finds out that she's never had an orgasm, she knows just what Harry needs: Louis Tomlinson. Niall sets Harry up to get sorted out.

3️⃣ that good girl faith (and a tight little skirt) by ariadne_odair {E, 43k}

“What the fuck did you do to my shampoo?” Harry shouts, brandishing the offending bottle like it’s a vial of poison. “Is this fucking mud? Did you honestly replace my shampoo with mud?” “Not just your shampoo,” Louis says calmly, then cracks up when Harry visibly pales.  

Harry and Louis are camp counsellors. They hate each other. The amount of sex they have in the camp showers probably contradicts that.

4️⃣ I love your demons (like devils can) by ariadne_odair {E, 60k}

"I am right here," she says loudly, and she can almost hear the crack when Louis' head whips around to stare at her.

"Why?" Louis asks, and Harry feels her insides shrivel up and die.

Harry didn’t plan to join the football team. She didn’t plan to sleep with the captain of the football team. She definitely didn’t plan to sleep with the closeted captain of the football team, who promptly acted as if nothing happened and left Harry a pathetic, pining mess.

5️⃣ the wheel breaks the butterfly by embodied / @crossnecklace {E, 4k}

“Out with it, Styles,” Louis groans. Harry’s suddenly regretting this whole thing, and she’s sure she’s beet red now, so she just blurts it out so fast she’s not sure if Louis even understands her right away.   “I’ve never gotten head before.”

AU. harry and louis are roommates. girls' night ends a little differently than usual.

HIDDEN GEMS:

💎 You Make Lovin' Fun by @homosociallyyours {E, 109k}

Harry is a 28 year old travel writer at a gay magazine who gets the assignment to go a lesbian cruise. She figures it's a nice chance to have some fun in the sun, but she's not expecting much else-- even if her partner and best friend are both encouraging her to hook up with someone while she's there.

When she locks eyes with a gorgeous silver fox from across the room, she starts to think she could've been wrong. There are lots of things standing in the way of anything real happening with her and Louis, but that doesn't stop them from falling for one another. True love isn't always easy, but they do make lovin' fun.

💎 That Smile and That Midnight Laugh by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright {T, 50k}

Harry’s never noticed how lovely Louis really is. Maybe it’s just that she’s usually so guarded – a little tense, a little irritated, a little put out. At least when she’s at school, and also usually when she’s around Nick, which are the only times Harry has really seen her. Until tonight. Tonight Harry’s seen her with her guard completely down. Too busy laughing and enjoying herself to remember to be prickly, maybe. She seems different.

It feels different.

A Ferris Bueller's Day Off AU that picks up right where the movie leaves off, and imagines what might happen if Ferris' girlfriend and sister become friends. And maybe something more, too.

💎 'tis the damn season by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf {E, 17k}

Harry returns to her small hometown over the holiday season and starts to think about the road not taken.

💎 bambi legs by @disgruntledkittenface {NR, 11k}

“Oh my god,” Zayn says, rolling her eyes and standing up. “You do know what this means, right?” 

“Yes?” Harry tries, looking up pathetically and hoping Zayn will take pity on her. 

“This means she doesn’t even need the fabric she buys from you every other week,” Zayn says slowly, as if speaking to a small child. “She doesn’t come here for the fabric. She comes here for you.” 

Harry works at her family’s fabric store sometimes and always sells the most interesting fabrics to Louis. Louis is the wannabe fashion designer who keeps buying fabric she doesn’t necessarily need just to find a way to talk to Harry.

💎 in my head we can love forever by @beardyboyzx {E, 1k}

It's official: this is creepy. She's creepy. It's not like anything is going to happen just because Louis is a lesbian too. Harry's got to stop touching herself while thinking about her roommate.

Except that she can't.

Or: Harry might be a bit in love with her roommate.

[thedawningofthehour]

Okay I lied I do actually want to do something for the anniversary. (it won't be the anniversary by the time I post this but shhhhh)

It's not going to be turtle themed though. You guys remember last year when I made fun of rich people's houses? I'd like to do that again.

This...domicile comes to us from Camden, Maine, with seven bedrooms and six baths, tops out at 6,000 square feet and can be yours for a paltry two million.

They really wanted to show off that they had money for the fountain.

Also, is it just me or do rich people houses seem woefully cheap compared to regular people houses? Like, 2 mil is a lot, but if you do the math with the space and amenities they have-like, I highly doubt you could put three 2,000 sqft houses on this parcel of land and get one for 650k. Definitely not in Camden. I remember the first time we moved we looked at one house that was nearly 2 mil-for fun, even when we had money we didn't have that much money-and it was probably about half the size of this. And it was in suburban TC, not a ritzy summer colony. And had been built twenty years before, not the previous as this one was.

Plus this was 2008. The...particular economics of that year in regards to housing prices aside, two mil in 2008 is, uh...quite a bit more now.

So if you expand this picture, you'll see that there's Asian-esque map-looking things set into the wall, and Asian writing over the door. I think they're Chinese characters, but I'm not 100% certain. This entire house has a supposedly Asian theme. I have...things to say, but I'll hold off for now until I have more examples to show what I'm talking about.

Also I just can't with the stone choices. Kudos to them for actually trying to landscape though.

...

I mean, I will give them points for doing the complete inverse of a Lawyer Foyer. Those columns though. Like. When have those ever looked good outside a hotel lobby? When have they ever looked good inside a hotel lobby? How much dust does those bottoms collect? Why do they seemingly have hotel curtains as well?

Usually, columns like this are made of foam with a stone veneer, I think these are at least partially real. A lot of stuff in this house misses the 'cheap shit designed to look expensive' marker that defines McMansions, it looks genuinely decadent-it's just ugly as shit.

THEY HAVE TWO CHANDELIERS. ONE WASN'T ENOUGH FOR THEM, THEY HAD TO HAVE TWO MASSIVE CHANDELIERS TO PROVE THEIR DINGDONGS. AND THAT'S IN ADDITION TO THE FOYER CHANDELIER.

I like how they put the bar in directly next to the front door. Like they know you're going to walk in and will immediately need a drink.

Why is there this ugly gold runner everywhere? I feel like I'm in Trump Tower. Or a gourmet candy bar.

Yes I see the cabinet, no we're not going to talk about it right now. While I love seeing houses that actually have color in them, I'm just...the teal and pink is fine, but it's hard to pull off different variants of a color together. Teal and true blue, it's just...it doesn't work. And these guys have TVs on like every wall for some reason?

Mostly just including this picture to point out the safe on the floor. In the dining room. And to call attention to the weird goldish-bronze border that doesn't seem to start and end where it's supposed to.

Also, yes, these walls are entirely done in tile. It's like they wanted to do something other than the beige but couldn't decide what to go with so they just worked the kitchen tile through the rest of the house.

Speaking of the kitchen...

What

I. I don't. I. I. Why the sink-

????????!!!!

There's...I just don't. Like. You can't even pick a place to start.

The fact that they picked pretty much the busiest tile pattern known to man wouldn't have been such a big deal...if they hadn't tiled the inside and outside of the cabinets. And removed the doors to said cabinets. And hadn't picked a second, equally busy tile pattern to play against the first.

Actually, let's go back to the two tile patterns. Not only are they both way too busy to work with each other, they're both browns...but completely the opposite variants of brown. The lower pattern has more blacks and greys and even a bit of blue in it, while the border browns are warmer shades. You really can't mix warm and cool shades of the same color. It just doesn't look good.

And we have to talk about that counter. It looks somehow like the cheapest 90s shit you'd see in a roller rink or an ocean-themed Chuck E. Cheese, but also you know it cost ungodly amounts of money.

Why is it so thin? Why is the sink so deep in the island? Why is the recessed lighting lopsided?

And we're not even touching upon the floor. These people clearly did not understand feature elements. The floor, counter, and both sets of tile are all dueling for dominance, and we're the neglected child caught up in the custody battle sitting on the lawn with our bags. This kitchen was designed by someone who didn't care if god forgave them.

Oh okay, so we're just using those tiles throughout the entire house now. Fantastic.

That...counter is not beating the 90s cheese allegations.

Is it just me, or does the second chandelier look like it would clip your head on the way down?

No yeah, it is straight-up Right Fucking There. Completely unnecessary too, considering the plethora of recessed lighting. And they've somehow managed to make this hallway look busy despite having absolutely nothing on the walls.

I'm putting in three photos to show that these are in fact different rooms. I'm not including the other bedroom photos because I literally don't know if they're other bedrooms or just different angles of these bedrooms, because every bedroom is decorated exactly the same.

But this is what I meant when I called this house 'Asian-esque' earlier. Now, granted, I don't know a ton about modern architecture and design trends in Asia or among Asian-Americans, so I very much might be putting my foot in my mouth here and I fully deserve the ridicule if that is the case. But to me this doesn't feel like...legitimate. This feels like someone who wants to look cultured, who considers the Far East to be exotic and elegant and would unironically use the term Oriental to describe their style. It feels like they designed this without actually understanding anything about Asian art and architecture and had no desire to learn. It doesn't feel like one thing in particular, it feels like they took elements from Japanese, Chinese, and even Indian styles and gestured vaguely to all of them because they were too scared to commit.

You know, I'll give them credit, the blue does look nicer with the brown. It doesn't look good, but nicer.

Still the same lack of cabinet doors. And the same glow-in-the-dark bathroom counter. It took me a solid few seconds to find the sink there-and then I burst out laughing when I saw it.

I don't know why, but the stone plus that golden window insert makes me think Rocky Rococo.

WHY DOES THEIR GARAGE HAVE THE GRANITE FLOORING?!!

God, this is like my grandmother and her carpeted garage. But she has an excuse in that she doesn't give a fuck what you think.

I don't know why but this is fucking hysterical to me.

Also it doesn't look like there's a...door? To the garage? In Maine? Like, even if it's a heated garage, it's still going to be cold. And it's also dirty, like, you don't want bugs and car fumes wafting into your living spaces?

I haven't even mentioned the ceiling decoration or the crown molding. Or the fact that the crowd molding, doorways, and candy bar wrapper walls are all different shades of gold. And I'd like to keep it that way.

On a side note, what is up with all the recessed lighting? Not that they have it, but doesn't it seem like...a lot? Like, I feel like they could thin them out a bit, you're practically under hospital lights. People with recessed lighting, is this normal? I've only had it in one room of one house, but I don't remember it being this...dense. (I do remember my sister and I once knocked the glass out of the baffle while playing. that's how I learned that those things get really hot)

This is like a church basement if it was also The Backrooms.

[hannahbarberra162]

Can't Fix Fix A Broken Heart, Chapter 25

18+ MDNI

On Ao3

All other chapters

Tate has devised a plan to get a Girls Trip™ for the two of you, you just need to execute it to perfection.

I definitely don’t dream about having Ace snuggling me when I’m on my period. Like a living weighted blanket who would say sweet things into my ear. That is definitely not a wish of mine and complete self-indulgence.

~

This is the set up for the divergent endings. The good ending will be first, the bad ending will be last.

The next morning, you knocked on the door to the women’s quarters, holding your sketches under your arm. You knew you didn’t need to knock, it had been your living space too at some point. But it didn’t feel right to barge in unannounced. A very hungover looking Heidi cracked open the door and smiled weakly at you.

“What’s up?” she rasped at you. Evidently, more nurses than just Tate had a wild night. 

“Is Tate up? I was hoping to get a few minutes with her before work.” You had all your ideas with you, you were ready to show her some and see which ones she liked.

“Yeah, gimme a sec,” Heidi replied, opening the door all the way. “Tate!” she yelled. There was a chorus of ‘shhhhh’ that rang out among the darkened room. Tate shuffled up to the door, looking worse for the wear. You smirked at her.

“How’re you feeling?” you asked with a bright smile. She glared at you, but without malice. “C’mon, I’ll make you my hangover cure. Chug it and we’ll chat after that.” Tate blinked slowly, but shuffled out the door and put her arm in yours. The two of you walked silently down the halls together, ending in the kitchen. Just like with Ace, you sat her down while you made your drink of lemon, honey, vinegar, chili peppers, seltzer, and a little dash of secret ingredient. Tate emphatically frowned when you handed it to her, but shrugged. 

“Can’t be worse than whatever I drank last night,” she lamented. “Bottoms up,” she said, chugging the drink. You handed her the water right after, which she sipped. “So, I remember some of what we talked about last night. Did you say that you finished the sketches?” 

You grinned at her, putting the drawings in front of her. “I did, we can go over them together and see what you like and what we need to change.” You spread them out, showing her your ideas. “Basically, these are mix and match pieces in a few colors. You can pair any of the tops with any of the bottoms for a good outfit. I even included skirts of various lengths in case you…miss…the mini skirts,” you finished with a wink. “I thought darker fabrics would be better in the case of bodily fluids. Teal and periwinkle tend to be universally flattering, no matter your skin tone, but black or gray are also good choices. In terms of fabric, cotton would be a good choice but we’ll have to go to a fabric store and find some samples…” You went on about dye lots, fabric blends, and clothing cuts, explaining everything in detail to Tate. She nodded along, looking through the sketches. 

“So, what do you think? What can we change to suit your needs better?” you asked the now revived nurse. 

“Absolutely nothing. These are incredible! I love the long pants, it’s so annoying to wash other people’s blood off the tops of your thighs.” She was looking over the drafts intensely, making notes with a pencil she had. “I have nothing to add other than you’re a genius. Let’s get off the boat at the next large island and get some samples. Make a whole day of it,” she said, putting her hand over yours and smiling kindly. You smiled back, but were unsure. You had a feeling it would take a lot of convincing for Marco to let you off the ship. “I’ll work on Marco,” Tate said as if reading your mind, “I have a plan.”

You felt lighter after your brief meeting with Tate. She had to go back to the infirmary for work and you had to go to breakfast. While you ate, Thatch was pretending to be upset with you because he found out that Ace had joined you and Marco for the night. You could tell he wasn’t actually upset but you still felt like you had to walk on eggshells.

“But we did that too, remember?” you reminded Thatch. “Ace came in once when you were brushing my hair for me?” You were seated on Thatch’s lap, like always, eating whatever he was serving you. And, like always, it was delicious. 

“ Mija, of course I remember, Ace snores like a train and burns hotter than the sun when he’s dreaming of you,” Thatch scoffed. He speared another forkful of eggs and brought it to your mouth. You opened without thinking and chewed the gooey, cheesy dish. “Look mami , you ate it all, I’m so proud of you!” Thatch kissed the top of your head. Recently you noticed you gained some weight, your clothes were fitting differently. You felt physically well, better than you had in a long time. You couldn’t say the same for your emotional well being, but at least some part of you was healing. 

“Thanks to you,” you said, giving Thatch a kiss on the cheek. He really was a good chef, and you were in a good mood from your conversation with Tate that morning. 

“Someone’s feeling well,” Thatch commented. You hummed, you didn’t want to reveal your plans with Tate yet. It would take a lot of convincing but you thought she figured out a way to get off the ship together for a day. Thatch kissed you again, this time on your mouth, and set you down. You went off to work, feeling energized and ready to take on the day. 

Until later that morning. 

You felt a long gone but familiar sensation of cramping in your lower stomach. One of the only upsides to being starved half to death was that you lost your period for a long time. Obviously, it was a sign of incredibly poor health, but you liked to look on the bright side of things. You always had terrible cramps when you had your period, and it looked like this time would be no exception. You put your hand on your lower stomach, you needed to talk to the nurses quickly. You apologized to Blenheim, promising to fix his scabbard later in the day. You scurried off to the infirmary, hoping to avoid Marco.

Logically, you knew Marco was a doctor and had studied the female reproductive system. But you still felt much more comfortable talking to other women about menstruation than men. You slunk into the clinic, quickly ducking into one of the unoccupied examination rooms. Peeking through the cracked door, you waited until you saw a lurid pink miniskirt pass by the door. You darted out, scaring Bethany, who dropped her clipboard.

“You can’t just pop out at people like that!” she scolded you. 

“Sorry,” you replied sheepishly. “I need pads and tampons, can I use the ones in the women’s bathroom here?” you whispered. There weren’t many women’s restrooms on the ship, you only knew of the ones in the infirmary and connected to the women’s quarters.

“Sure, they’re communal. You don’t need to ask,” Bethany replied at full volume. You hoped Marco wasn’t listening in.

“Thanks, see you later.” You sped off to the women’s bathroom in the infirmary, grabbing what you needed. You were still wearing a stupid dress, but you swiped some underwear from the clean patient laundry. They were too big, but it was better than nothing. If Marco was mad, well, he could solve the problem himself. Leaving the bathroom, you jumped as you saw the very man you were trying to avoid leaning against the opposing wall. Served you right for surprising Bethany, you supposed.

“Everything alright?” Marco asked, assessing you with his eyes. He was in doctor mode, which made you feel more comfortable. You knew what to expect when he was like this, he was professional, detached, and had good bedside manner.

“Oh, um, yeah. I just got um, my…period.” Marco smiled kindly at you.

“Congratulations yoi. It’s a sign of recovery. However, the first menstruation after extensive amenorrhea is often quite painful. I recommend you go lay down, rest and relax.” Even though it was phrased as a clinical recommendation, you knew it was an order. 

“Ok Marco. Where should I go? I don’t want to ruin any-” Marco waved off your concerns.

“We’re all adults here, no one is upset by the human body. Ace cleaned his room, would you like to go there?” You tried to hide your disgust when you thought about Ace’s room and the last time you’d seen it. Marco laughed.

“I understand your hesitation yoi, but I checked it myself. It’s clean and always the perfect temperature. Go there. I’ll give you some medicine to take with you.” Marco left to rummage in a nearby cart, grabbing a bottle of low grade pain killers. “Take two, and drink some water. I’ll have Ace check on you in an hour or two.” Marco kissed you on your head, turned you around by your shoulders and sent you off with a little push. You didn’t feel that bad, you’d been having your period for many years. Going to lay down preemptively was overkill, you thought, but you weren’t going to disagree with Marco.

An hour later and you were glad Marco had sent you to lay down. You remembered having cramps, of course, but nothing like this. You were curled up on Ace’s freshly made bed, writhing in pain. After the first wave of cramps, you’d taken the pain killers, but they weren’t getting close to helping with the pain. Marco had stopped by briefly, bringing you tea, a hot water bottle, and tucking you under the covers. You asked him to heal you but he said there wasn’t anything wrong with you, that it was excess uterine lining being shed normally. There was nothing to heal, so his flames wouldn’t do anything. He had a busy day and couldn’t stay long but promised to send Ace up. 

In between pains so intense you thought your stomach was being sliced in half, you took a look around Ace’s room. It was so much better than the first time you’d been in the room. He had cleaned out all the food, all the old papers, and done his laundry. Marco was right, it was warm and cozy. You weren’t sure if it was the room itself or if it was somehow the residual effects of his Mera Mera, but you didn’t care. You tried closing your eyes and falling asleep but the closest you could get was dozing in and out of consciousness. 

Creaking, the door opened, and you heard Ace ending a conversation. You kept your back turned to the door and pretended to be asleep in case he could see you.

“ - don’t think she likes it, not like I do…” Ace sounded doubtful about whatever it was. 

“Remember how you were when you joined yoi? All anger and fury? And now look at us,” you could tell he was speaking with Marco. “Give it some time, it will be everything you ever wanted. Family and love, happiness and a place where you belong, all here with us. Here, give her these,” Ace hummed, and it sounded like they kissed. Footsteps told you Marco left, and Ace opened the door, holding a few bottles of pills. He spotted you on his bed and kicked off his shoes, putting the bottles on his desk. You really wanted to ask him about what they were talking about but didn’t have the courage to admit you were listening in to their private conversation. 

“Poor baby,” he said, as you heard him taking off his pants and knife.

“S’ok,” you replied, stretching a little. Ace got into the bed with you, crawling behind you. You whined, you didn’t want to be manhandled right now. You saw Marco had given Ace a bottle of vitamins and another of anti-nausea medication for you. You'd take them later, you couldn't move right now.

“Shhhh. S’gonna be alright.” Ace curled up behind you, spooning you. He moved your hands away from your lower stomach and replaced them with his own. You felt the gentle warmth of his Mera Mera heating you. You mewled and scooted backwards, snuggling into him. Ace buried his face in your neck and held you closer. He let you relax and drift to sleep, holding you tightly in his arms. 

It was a challenging few days for you. Your period was lighter than it normally was, but extremely painful. You didn’t leave Ace’s room much, spending your time reading and thinking about your reply letter to Vista’s brothers. Thatch, Ace, and Marco all visited as they could, with Ace staying with you at night. They were actually…sweet. You wished they were always this way, then you’d have no doubts about staying on the ship with them. Thatch brought you desserts and savory food in equal measure and gave you massages when your muscles were tight. He didn’t make you sit on his lap but let you eat by yourself in Ace’s bed. He tried to hand feed you, but sulkily accepted when you declined. Marco brought you medicine, tea, pads, and more books from his collection. He made sure you were physically comfortable, bringing loose pants, extra blankets and pillows. Ace, of course, warmed you up and snuggled with you until you thought you would merge together on an atomic level. You were thankful he let you hole up in his room.

“Sorry, I know it can’t be easy having me in here all the time,” you said to Ace on the third day. You were laying in bed together, limbs entangled, facing each other. Ace was still dozing after the night you’d spent in each other’s arms. You were brushing his freckles lightly with your fingertips. You were feeling better, you’d be out of his room by the afternoon, you thought.

“S’great. Wish’is all the time,” Ace mumbled. “Would lock you in here’f I could,” he continued, putting his chin on the top of your head. You sighed because you knew that when you got up, you would be back to your previous life of rules and punishments from the three Commanders. You nuzzled deeper into Ace’s arms, keeping the real world at bay for just a few hours longer.

~~~

A few days later, you needed to find Ace once more. You and Tate thought you had figured out a way to finagle a girl’s day out of the Commanders. The two of you wanted to stop at the next big island, coming up in about a week. It was close to the calm belt, but you’d actually been to the island years prior. It was known for its large textile factory and incredible fabric inventory. You’d done a few fashion shows there, maybe you could use some of your previous fame to get a discount on fabrics, or at least try to. It also had a day spa that was known for its wet saunas and hot tubs. You really wanted to go with Tate and enjoy a relaxing girls trip. Tate’s plan would require you to be crafty and a little conniving, but it would be worth it if it worked out. 

Ace was going to go on a mission later that morning, you needed to find him quickly. He was still inhaling food in the mess hall after you’d eaten breakfast. You waited for him outside the mess hall, wanting to speak to him in private. When he left, you grabbed him by the arm and pulled him aside. You looked up at him with hope in your eyes.

“Ace, can I get off the ship with Tate at the next island? They have a fabric store I want to go to. Please?” You weren’t sure this would work, but you really wanted to go to the fabric store in person. 

“Ah, I don’t think so. You’ll have to ask -” you stopped Ace from talking by pulling him down by his hat string to kiss him. You kissed him deeply, holding him at the back of his neck. All that time you’d spent with him in bed had you feeling connected to him, and you hoped the reverse was true as well.

“Please?” you asked again in a pleading tone. Ace smiled at you, disarmed by the forward display of affection.

“I know you’re trying to manipulate me, but I have to say, it’s working. OK, as long as someone’s with you. Ask Thatch or Marco, though, just to be sure. I’ll be gone by the time the Moby’s docking at the next island, and I’m not sure when I’ll be back.” 

“Thank you Ace! Thank you, thank you” you kissed his cheeks every time you thanked him, making Ace smile even wider.

“You should ask me for favors more often, I like the way this is going.” Ace husked. He pulled you against him, you could feel his growing erection through his shorts. You rubbed up against him a little bit, teasing him.

“Let’s finish this in a bit, I need to go eat breakfast and Thatch doesn’t like when I’m late,” you replied. One last kiss to Ace and you were on your way. The first part of your plan had been a success.

Next, you waited until it was lunchtime. You were extra good for Thatch, complimenting his cooking and allowing him to feed you without complaint. You finished about two thirds of your food before you started talking to him about the island.

“Thatch, I have a favor I want to ask you,” you began, eyes wide.

“If I can grant it, I will mami. What do you need?” Thatch rubbed your palm with his thumb.

“Can I get off the ship with Tate at the next island? There’s a fabric store I want to go to for the new nurses’ uniforms.” You looked at Thatch hopefully.

“Ah. No, I don’t think so. I don’t want -”

“But Ace already said yes, I was so excited,” you said while making yourself cry. Tears fell down your face and you twisted the knife in Thatch’s heart. “I t-told Tate we could g-go, and I was going to invite y-you -” Thatch frowned and rubbed away the tears from your cheeks.

“ Querida, if it’s that important to you, I’ll talk to Marco. We can try to make it work. I’m not sure it will happen, but we’ll try.” You smiled, stopping the tears.

“Thank you Thatch! Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Just like with Ace, you kissed him with every thank you. 

“ Mija it’s not a guarantee, you understand that, right? I don’t want you to be upset if it doesn’t work out in the end,” Thatch said, still stroking your cheek. You gave him a genuine smile - you knew he would try his hardest to let you off the ship. He would go and talk to Marco on your behalf and try to convince the Phoenix into letting you off the ship. Marco would be the toughest of the three, but you thought between you, Thatch, and Tate it would be possible to convince him. You exchanged a few more kisses, thanking him, until he had to leave to prepare lunch for the crew. Part two of Tate’s plan had worked. 

Marco found you in the afternoon as you were on the deck leaning against the main mast, relaxing. You were still taking it easy but the little work you’d been doing had tired you out. How did the crew break so many toilets?

“So I hear you want to have an excursion on the next island,” Marco began, standing over you. He seemed to be in a good mood, or at least hadn’t outright denied you. His half open eyes showed some amusement, which was a good start.

“There’s a textile store that I want to go to with Tate. To get samples for the nurses’s uniforms. I haven’t been off the ship yet.” You tried to keep yourself from rambling but it was always hard for you to keep your cool around Marco.

Marco hummed. “And it has nothing to do with the spa on the island yoi?” You looked up at Marco with wide eyes. He still seemed amused, he wasn’t mad with you yet. He squished your cheeks gently between his thumb and index finger, the corners of his lips quirked up into a cold smile.

“Tate asked me about the store and the spa. And Thatch also came to talk to me about it. You’ve been working everyone to get off the ship yoi.” You swallowed dryly, you felt caught. “You’ve been a good Doveling lately yoi. Had a hard time this week. I’ll allow it with the understanding that one of us will be with you at all times.” He squished your face with a little more force. “We wouldn’t want you to get lost or hurt. We’re always looking out for you, you know that, don’t you Doveling?” 

You nodded. “Yes, Marco. Thank you Marco.” you replied. Even though Marco had said he allowed it, you felt the lingering threat behind his words. He’d be watching your every move and if anything went wrong on this trip, you didn’t think you’d ever be let off the ship again. 

“You can show your appreciation to me later tonight yoi,” Marco said, moving his hand from your face to your hair, pulling it gently. You were forced to tip your face up even higher. “It’s quite lenient of me, don’t you think?” 

“Yes, Marco. Thank you, Marco.” You shivered thinking about what Marco would want in exchange for allowing you off the ship for a day. He kissed your mouth briefly and released his hand from your hair. 

“Stay here and relax a little longer. You look like you need it yoi.” You agreed. It felt like you’d have to pay for your time off the ship with a pound of flesh. And you knew they would be collecting. 

[odo-apologist]

Me enjoying a rewatch of a Red Dwarf episode, having a good time: 🙂

My traitorous brain: Hey, this scene takes place away from Red Dwarf and Starbug, Lister probably doesn't remember it after M-Corp

Me: 😧

[camellcat]

WTFFF I thought thirteen would be my new girl crush love of my life heart eyes wife you-came-after-twelve-you-must-be-better-than-they're-all-saying bbygirl and then I had to sit down and watch as she told a man who (if he were not a murderer, of course) literally every regeneration before her would've LOVED and FULLY SUPPORTED that "the systems aren't the problem. how people use and exploit the system, that's the problem. people like you" </33333 !?!?

[front-facing-pokemon]

[turtleblogatlast]

omfg did you have any content on that post you just posted? the one about leo never shutting up until hes in real pain? because you are very much Correct for that one holy hell it gets me every time

[ cw: violence mention / self sacrifice implied / ]

No content, just something I thought upon when thinking of the movie (something that is on my mind so very often.)

Just, thinking of Leo, when he’s separated from everyone and everything, being completely silent. Even being so horrifically beaten as he was, even being in a true nightmare scenario, he is silent in his suffering. Smiles through it, even.

At the moment where it would have been more than justified to make any noise, he stays silent.

[grimm-the-tiger]

Some of my favorite verses from protest songs, just because:

"Welcome home, my child Your home is a checkpoint now Your home is a border town Welcome to the brawl."

Anais Mitchell, "Song of the Magi"

"Suffocate me So my tears can be rain I will water the ground where I stand So the flowers can grow back again."

Aurora, "The Seed"

"Cheer them on to their rivals 'Cause America can, and America can't say no And America does, if America says it's so It's so."

The Decemberists, "16 Military Wives"

"See, my birds of a kind, they more and more are looking like Centurions than any little messiah And as I prune my feathers like leaves from a vine I find that we have fewer and fewer in kind."

The Oh Hellos, "Passerine"

"Was a long and dark December When the banks became cathedrals and a fox became God Priests clutched onto Bibles Hollowed out to fit their rifles, and a cross was held aloft."

Coldplay, "Violet Hill"

"Sieg Heil to the President Gasman Bombs away is your punishment Pulverize the Eiffel Towers Who criticize your government."

Green Day, "Holiday"

[askgametime]

🐜 Recommend a fic that makes you laugh! A crack fic, or something that's just really funny!

okay, i actually generally don't answer asks on this blog, i create/reblog ask games to be used by others since i'm not really open for prompts right now and this blog isn't fandom specific. however, i guess i could provide a rec/recs, but since there's no fandom listed it will be random. and since i don't normally do these i'm going all out with a really detailed answer.

...alright, briefly traversed my bookmarks for fics i remembered being hilarious, and ironically, this is not at all indicative of the fandoms i spend the most time reading in, especially like, currently, but it's a small variety and they were all memorably hilarious so:

still alive but i’m bearly breathing by thessalonike (starblessed) / @julies-butterflies

Fandom: Julie and the Phantoms; Rating: T; Categories: Gen, M/M - No Archive Warnings Apply - Complete (1/1)

So, Julie's got a possessed teddy bear. “It was just a flash of light, like a lava lamp exploded, and then, whoomph —“ Reggie mimes what, presumably, is a person getting sucked into a stuffed animal’s body. It involves a lot of flailing, a weird mermaid wiggle, and a moonwalk. “Alex was a bear.” CAN WE PLEASE STOP SAYING THAT, sings Alex — or Bearlex — into his plush microphone, with his tiny robotic voice. The sound box inside of the bear isn’t designed for speaking, only warbling… so every time Alex has something to say, he sounds like robot Freddie Mercury attempting karaoke. ALEX IS NOT A BEAR. ALEX IS INSIDE A BEAR. IT’S DIFFERENT. “Yeah, man, it sounds worse.”

Rec Notes: This one makes me cry laughing. Every single time. It's so funny. I believe after I watched JATP and binged a bunch of fics I read every single one of this person's works and they were all great. God, I need to rewatch that show, it's been a hot second.

Smoke Break by OrangeGaytor

Fandom: Disco Elysium; Rating: M; Category: Gen - No Archive Warnings Apply - Complete (1/1)

Shivers– Miles away, a young teenager takes his first ever hit of a joint. He inhales too deeply, and spit flies from his lips as he falls into a coughing fit. Pitifully, his friend pats him on the back, an embarrassed grimace on his face. Just as far away, a woman is locked to her couch, paralyzed by the 10 mg edible she took an hour and a half ago. The recommended dosage was half of a gummy, and yet, the chemicals overpower her, merging her into the cushions. Time passes as a dripping faucet, inconsistent, and runny. And here, in Martinese, a police officer has rolled the worst blunt known to all mankind. 

Rec Notes: Great grasp of game's format/feel, incredibly funny. I just love how it's worded. The summary is a great example--the pacing and punchline is just. chef's kiss.

No Speak, Only Batman by hitthedeck

Fandom: DC/Batman/Justice League; Rating: G; Category: Gen - No Archive Warnings Apply - Complete (1/1) (Part 5 of a series of oneshots)

Batman doesn't use words, those prehistoric, plebian things. Instead, he stares deeply into your eyes, waits for you to absorb his meaning, and leaves. Either that or he fights it out like a normal person. Or, in which Batman's unique communication style is spectacularly unhelpful.

Rec Notes: I don't even go here, but Batman produces so many excellent, excellent crack fics. This is one of the best. Honestly, this whole series is completely iconic. Please read them all.

Filet-O-Fish by moopyjoopy

Fandom: The Magnus Archives; Rating: T; Category: Gen - No Archive Warnings Apply - Complete (1/1)

Someone throws a Filet-O-Fish at Jon’s front door. Paranoia ensues. (rated teen for a few swears)

Rec Notes: Okay, I'm really not gonna have a lot to say for any of these other than "help please they're so fucking funny" but I cannot impress on you enough they truly are all so fucking funny. I don't even really go here, either and YET. Also, I just love this author. Master of humor, truly.

œuf ouch owie by miraculousunflower (ominousunflower)

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug; Rating: T; Category: F/M - No Archive Warnings Apply - Complete (1/1)

Chat Noir enlists Rena Rouge's help to create an Aspik illusion. Absolutely nothing goes wrong. Ladybug smiles. “I wanted to drop by and welcome Aspik. I know it must be a little intimidating, being surrounded by so many veteran heroes…so, welcome! We’re glad to have you on board.” “I look like an egg!” Aspik announces, T-posing. Chat turns to Rena, feeling like he has been punched in the solar plexus. What the hell? he mouths. Rena grimaces, her eyes wide with panic. Stomach sinking, Chat remembers one of the first things he learned about the Fox Miraculous: that if Rena Rouge isn’t focused, her illusions go haywire. Oh, no.

Rec List: cannot emphasize enough this one makes me cry laughing every time. I don't know what it is, man. It's just so fucking funny. I haven't watched this show in years and still I go back and reread this when I remember it exists.

Sam Green and the Strange, Perplexing, Almost Bad, Very Confusing Night(s) by pukner

Fandom: Stranger Things; Rating: G; Category: Gen, M/M - No Archive Warnings Apply - WIP (1/2)

"'M I bein' kidnapped?" asked Harrington. "What," said Sam, alarmed, "No!" "Okay," said Harrington with terrifying agreeability, considering the words he was saying, "But like. If you were? It's cool, I've been kidnapped before." "Wh—" "It was, uh. A bunch of twelve-year-olds," said Harrington, sounding strangely pensive. Then, sadly, "They stole B'lly's car." Sam actually could not process anything being said right then. He started the car. "Hey, Harrington?" he said, voice strained. "Yeah?" "Let's stop talking for a while, yeah?" "'Kay." Or, in November 1984, Sam Green (or Freak, if he's at a gig) sees Steve Harrington stumbling home looking like roadkill. He drives him to the hospital, and never quite manages to get rid of him. In July 1985, Eddie Munson is very confused about this.

Rec Notes: Every work by this author is so, so good. I don't even go here--god, why is that a pattern on this list?--but I'm always excited to see them in my inbox. I only chose this particular one (a) by virtue of it being the most recent and therefore the one I remembered best and (b) Mall Goop.

The Mysterious Benedict Society and the Epistolary Bullying Campaign by viramine / @mvshortcut

Fandom: The Mysterious Benedict Society; Rating: T; Category: Gen - No Archive Warnings Apply - Complete (1/1)

"To LD Curtain (I refuse to believe you actually earned your doctorate): When I opened the newspaper over my nutritious breakfast this morning, I was greeted by the most terrible and disgusting sight in the world (your face). Now I am going to take several moments of your time to express my displeasure." Or, how did Curtain know they called themselves the Society, anyway?

Rec Notes: Iconic as fucking always. Top-tier author, top-tier comedy; have my hand in marriage, etc. Constance terrorizing Curtain is always wonderful but this is probably the best version of that. Great characterization, deeply hilarious and so so funny, always worth rereading over and over. The best, ♾️/10 stars

Geoffrey M'Benga: Vulcan (Love??) Guru by WerewolvesAreReal

Fandom: Star Trek (TOS); Rating: T; Category: Gen - No Archive Warnings Apply - Complete (1/1)

Post-Amok Time. “The only conclusion M'Benga can draw, based on all McCoy's questions about Vulcans, is that the man is enamored with Commander Spock. Someone should really tell him that pigtail-pulling stops being cute when you're eight.” Misunderstandings, genfic, humor.

Rec Note: Yet another author I always and without fail am absolutely thrilled to see in my inbox. And this fic? Regular reread. Absolutely incredible.

A dis-ass-ter by normal_thoughts_official / @normal-thoughts-official

Fandom: Shadowhunters; Rating: M; Category: F/F, M/M, Multi, Other - No Archive Warnings Apply - Complete (1/1)

Simon and Maia find out what the Mark of Cain is in an... Alternate way. Namely, they can't get their spanking session on. The squad is called in to help.

Rec Notes: [announcer voice] FROM WRITING GENIUS NORMAL-THOUGHTS-OFFICIAL IT'S!!!! THE POLYCULE SPANKING ASS PORTAL FIC!!!! Truly so funny and from one of the best authors on this damn site, wonderful characterization, on point comedy, and impeccable taste as always. Blowing you a kiss. Tossing bouquets. Firing confetti cannons. Etc.

A Way Things Should Be by LullabyKnell / @lullabyknell

Fandom: The Hobbit (Movies); Rating: T; Category: Gen - No Archive Warnings Apply - Complete (16/16)

In the Shire, hobbits say, "What lovely weather we've having." They also stir their teacups for four and a half clockwise rotations, place their left elbow seven-eighths down the way of the arm rest, and sniffled pointedly, which roughly translates to: "This tea is over-steeped and bland, your furniture is both uncomfortable and horrifically tasteless, and you're a twit of a host." And I think that's beautiful. ~ Hobbitish is a language of manners and etiquette, the dwarves don't even know that Hobbitish is a thing, and Bilbo is trying to keep a straight face and his peace of mind while the Company unintentionally keeps sexually propositioning him and challenging him to pie-eating contests to the death. ~ Actions speak so much louder than words.

Rec Notes: Truly a stunning fic. An absolute masterpiece. Hilarious, touching, perfectly paced. Incredibly long and well-thought out, great characterization, and again, I cannot stress this enough, hilarious. I once recommended this to a person out loud irl in real life on purpose. A person who had never heard of fanfiction. Admittedly I was a high-schooler at the time, so it's not like I had much sense (not that I have any now), but I still didn't normally do that. He thought it was hilarious, by the way. Read some excerpts out loud at lunch and had them howling. Wonderful fic, cannot recommend enough; so fucking funny and the premise is just. so good.

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And now, because I'm selfish, here's a few crack fics I wrote, because. why not, am I right? I'm already putting way too much time into this probably.

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Rupert Mannion Is Batman (He Isn't)

Fandom: Ted Lasso; Rating: M; Category: M/M - No Archive Warnings Apply - Complete (13/13)

A series of bizarre, loosely related events occur, all kicked off by Trent absently mentioning that he may or may not have once hooked up with Rupert Mannion.

Author Note: I had so much fun with this one. It's not my most popular crack fic--even my most popular Ted Lasso crack fic--but it amuses me.

dreams of falling

Fandom: House MD; Rating: M; Category: M/M - No Archive Warnings Apply - Complete (1/1)

House and, among other things: green couches, being kissed by Wilson, lightning-fast overthinking, and talking to himself.

Author Note: My first time writing House, and entirely on an impulse. I really like some of the lines in here, like Chase's brief appearance.

gemini schmemini

Fandom: The Mysterious Benedict Society (TV); Rating: T; Category: Gen - No Archive Warnings Apply - Complete (1/1)

"You're his clone?" demanded Kate loudly, looking between Mr. Benedict and Curtain. His what. There were a lot of answers he could give to this. No, who in the world told you that, we're twins, being the main one, or perhaps he could just turn to his brother and say, did you seriously fucking tell people you cloned yourself instead of owning up to not being an only child?! But looking at his brother, who was keeping his face utterly blank, Nicholas made a split second decision. "No," he said, looking his brother directly in the eyes, "Actually, he's my clone."

Author Note: I had a harder time choosing between my MBS crack fics because I think they're all hilarious. No false modesty here, if there's one thing I am occasionally good at it is being funny as fuck. Not reliably, but, you know. Anyway, I asked my friends to choose between three random ones I think are the funniest and this was the unanimous (of the two people that responded on incredibly short notice) vote!

And now...

[lab-gr0wn-lambs]

To be honest the dialogue in twd is absolute ass sometimes but the actors deliver their lines with so much conviction that it kinda slips by. You yell that convoluted sentence with your whole cunt, girl.

[cabeswaterdrowned]

remembering on my circa 2017 booklr I used to tell people to read Gemma Doyle by describing it as trc but with an all girls boarding school / all girl group in a historical setting… I was trying to do the lord’s work she deserved tumblr fame