he's so wee

 sibling secrets


bonus daytime because I like to imagine Amanda yelling down Sarek because please would you let her damn babies play in her rose garden with their space ships already




20 year old Jeremy Brett in his bit-part single scene in Svengali [1954] eclipsing everyone else with his swooniness and beauty and cheekbones and hair and omfg everything

Diamond City’s littlest detectives


Robert Hardy [29th Oct 1925 - Aug 3rd 2017]: Ten Of The Best

Dick Carlton, The Spy Who Came in from the Cold [1965]

Abwehr Sgt Gratz, Manhunt [1970]

Archdeacon Haynes, The Stalls of Barchester [1971]

Lord Ernest Belville, Raffles, [1977]

Siegfried Farnon, All Creatures Great and Small [1978-1990]

Twiggy Rathbone, Hot Metal [1988]

Charles Augustus Milverton, The Case-Book of Sherlock Holmes [1992]

Sir John Middleton, Sense and Sensibility [1995]

Cornelius Fudge, Harry Potter [2002-2007]

Tite Barnacle, Little Dorrit [2008]

Robert Hardy’s Desert Island Discs episode is one of the most entertaining ones ever, including his talking about being taught by C S Lewis and J R R Tolkein, having inappropriate tights moments while acting with Judi Dench at the RSC, and the two books he wrote about the longbow. Listen to it here.

Through It All

This ficlet is part of the Claire returns early with Bree AU which begins with A Ringing Phone and a Folder.

This ficlet is a direct continuation from Strength for What Lies Ahead

My Fanfiction Master List

Available on AO3 as The Nature of Choice.

This is an Outlander canon divergence AU.

As always, let me know what you think.

Keep reading


current sexual orientation: even-more-than-usually-dishevelled-Columbo

hipsofsteel  asked:

Hello France! I was just wondering if you would consider yourself close to any of the Anglosphere members? Canada, obviously, but what about the other former colonies, or perhaps Arthur's brothers?

FRA: Scotland and I were close, back during the Vieille Alliance. Afterwards, things were a bit awkward, but we get along fine nowadays. As for the others…

Some pain for @flecksofpoppy

[I’m a snail, but send me a number if ya like]

14. “You don’t remember?”

[ambiguously canon-verse, angst, character dealing with severe depression and depression-induced memory loss, recreational drinking]

Pain may be the most effective punishment, but everyone’s idea of pain is different.

“Erwin,” Levi said into the silent office.  “Remember that time we climbed the wall?”  He hadn’t quite meant to say it aloud.

Erwin didn’t move for an entire revolution of Levi’s heart, until Levi thought he hadn’t heard and maybe they could let the memory slip past.  He was nearly startled when Erwin smiled faintly up from where he sat heavy at his desk.  “Feeling nostalgic, Levi?  That’s not like you.”  His tone was softer than Levi was expecting.

Levi wanted to reach across the space between them and press fingers into Erwin’s shoulder.  Instead he shrugged, leaned against the desk, and pretended he didn’t notice Erwin’s attention drifting back to the heap of papers.  “Just making small-talk.”

Erwin laughed, just a burst of breath, but it felt like a balm to Levi.  “That’s definitely not like you.”

“Do you?” Levi pressed.

Erwin blinked at the edge in his voice, then he leaned back and pushed away from the desk.  Levi slipped into the space he created, blocking the papers from view.  Erwin frowned.  It made his livid under-eye bags sag and wrinkled his forehead so deeply Levi wondered how his face ever smoothed back out.  

“We climbed the wall a lot of times,” Erwin said, slowly and carefully.  “You’ll have to jog my memory.”

Levi swallowed.  “It was a few years back now, I think.”  He searched Erwin’s tired gaze for any sign of recognition.  “Mike had passed out here, over on that couch,” Levi waved a hand vaguely at the leather sofa.  “Don’t you remember? We were all a bit tipsy and you were fucking hellbent on climbing the wall.”

Erwin smiled, but as one side of his mouth quirked up, the other drooped down like a counterweight.  Levi’s fingers itched to push it up.  “Was I annoying?” Erwin asked, gently indulgent.

“You don’t remember?” Levi’s throat ached and he looked up at the ceiling to miss the way the corner of Erwin’s mouth fell to make a perfect curve.  He gave in to the urge to press his hands against Erwin’s shoulders, desperate to make sure he could still feel anything beyond a dull throb of pain.

Erwin leaned into his hands and bent until he bumped his forehead to Levi’s chest.  “I’m sure I do.  It’s there, I know it happened.”  He paused.  “It’s just a bit hazy.”

Levi didn’t say anything, just shoved a hand into Erwin’s hair.

“I’m sorry, Levi.”

“It’s fine.” 

“It’s not.”  Erwin’s voice came low, muffled against Levi’s chest where he dampened his shirt with hot breaths.  “I can’t remember, Levi.”  Erwin brought his hands up to span the entire width of Levi’s back.  His fingers felt heavy.

“I know.  It’s fine.”  Levi took a breath.  “Honestly, we just watched the goddamn sunrise and shot the shit and got too drunk.  You aren’t missing much.”

“You could tell me about it,” Erwin offered.  Levi could feel Erwin’s lips moving through his shirt.

“Maybe tonight,” he said and tried to get another breath past the lump in his throat.  “I’ll tell you stories about your own damn stupidity.”

“I look forward to it.”  Erwin placed a kiss to Levi’s stomach, as faint as his smiles, and pulled back to look up.  Somehow his eyes were as downturned as his mouth.  He tugged at the hem of Levi’s shirt until he could slip a rough palm under the fabric and push it up Levi’s ribs.  Levi didn’t take his hands from his shoulders, just rode out the shifting dance of muscles while Erwin ran blunt fingers across the scar tugging some of Levi’s stomach into discolored, puckering lumps and craters.  Levi shuddered.  

“I remember this, though,” Erwin said.  He watched the shiver of Levi’s muscles under his fingers with intent focus.  “I couldn’t breathe.”

“Shut up,” Levi managed.

Levi’s memory of receiving the scar was haze of blood and screams, a flare of pain, and worried faces.  It had dimmed over the years in the way that watching the sunrise beside Erwin had not.  Erwin had pressed a kiss to his hair in the grey light, and then another and another, too drunk to mind himself, and told Levi that for someone so short, he would leave a hole the size of the ocean if he died.  Levi had looked away, said that Erwin had never seen the goddamn ocean so maybe it was as small as he was.  If it even existed at all.

The sunrise that morning had looked a lot like the spray of blood from the wound scarring Levi’s abdomen a few months later.  But Erwin’s kisses had ached more.

She’d seen pictures of lots of different cheeses in the Almanack. She was good at cheese and had always wondered what the others tasted like. They were faraway cheeses with strange-sounding names, cheeses like Treble Wibbley, Waney Tasty, Old Argg, Red Runny, and the legendary Lancre Blue, which had to be nailed to the table to stop it attacking other cheeses.

– Sir Terry takes a break from the narrative to come up with goofy cheese names | Terry Pratchett, The Wee Free Men