It's midnight EST which means... SWEEPS WEEK BEGINS!!!

[kag523.livejournal.com]

 

 

I’m BAAAACK!!!

Hey there everyone!  It’s kag523 – returning to drive the No_Takebacks bus after a hiatus of six months.  (That’s right, peeps.  The No-Takebacks Oscars took place exactly six months ago!  I’ve been sadly negligent about volunteering since then, so I’m making up for it this week.)  Today I’m back in fine, sassy form to kick of a new and FABULOUS event in the K/L fandom. 

I’m officially declaring this week:

This means that every day you will get

1. A new topic to discuss / rant / argue / make merry with
2. A new (television-focused) vid to enjoy
3. A new challenge for you to participate in

And in return, I will with reward your participation with KAG523 MANIPS AND FABULOUS CRACKY OBJET’S D’ART!  (More about this later...)

Today we arrive at the quintessential 1990’s television show: Friends.  (Surprising how HAPPY BSG looks if you crank up the saturation and speed up the film.)  Given that our favourite Pilots live amongst a crew of hundreds, I’d assume that many of their secrets would be ANYTHING but!  And I figure it’s time to let out those not-so-secret goings-on hidden inside the storage locker on C-Level. 

Your task today is to:

1. EXPOSE A SECRET (for Lee or Kara or *cough* both)
2. Write this secret from the point of view of another character on BSG.  (ie: Cally would have the inside track on what goes on AFTER they climb out of their vipers whereas Hotdog knows EXACTLY whose boots were outside the pilots bunkroom last shift.) 
3. While simple facts are certainly fine, give a try with something creative.  These can be in ANY FORMAT you’d like.  Crack!fic encouraged!  Perhaps you could include messages relayed between the knuckledraggers on the hangar deck, a name and number that Baltar discovers scratched into the stall in the head, Dee’s overheard headset conversations, Adama’s discovery of a long-lost phone message on his personal comm link, Post Secrets postcards that keep appearing on the memorial wall, or (as I might be doing... depending on the participation today) damning photographic evidence.  Your imagination is the limit! 
4. When you’ve tossed in your two cents, come on back to comment / argue / extend / respond to other people’s comments.  This is our fandom, people.  LET’S ROCK THIS SHIP!

THE FANDOM CHALLENGE!

For EVERY 50 comments on the No_Takebacks comm in the next 24 hours, I will create a fabulously cracky manip of one of the not-really-so-randomly selected secrets.  (To a maxiumum of five... cause honestly?  I’ll have to eat or sleep at some point.)  That’s right peeps... you want manips from me?  I’M OFFERING!  And I get to choose which ones so make them GOOD!  But the deadline is midnight Monday, so get your commentary and discussion going. 

 

SWEEPS WEEK HAS BEGUN!

 

 

 

Comments

[scifishipper.livejournal.com]

OMG OMG OMG! I am so in love with that vid!! How can it make me so happy! That is going to be my happy go to video now.

Tomorrow I come back with my creative entry. I want a manip, damnit!

[amaliak.livejournal.com]

wait wait wait wait.

DID YOU MAKE BSG/FRIENDS VID??????????????????????????



Karin, I love you so much.

[coffeesuperhero.livejournal.com]

Nobody throws a party like you throw a party, bb. NOBODY.

[ecstaticdance.livejournal.com]

BSG/Friends is genius. And you're right. Shared showers, shared bunks, limited living space. Secrets were few, far between and hard to keep.

[acsgrlie.livejournal.com]

Great video!!

OK, so I wrote this after reading the prompt and I'm not sure the ending line is quite right but I hope you all enjoy it :)

_____________________


“Frakkin Racetrack,” cursed Hotdog as he bent down for the fifth time to try to reach all the trash in the pilots rec room. One drink of ambrosia too many and his mediocre triad skills had earned him a week of cleaning chores.

He was just about done with the room until he spotted a crumbled up piece of paper in the corner. Ready to throw it into the wastebasket like the others, he only paused when he saw the name ‘Adama’ scribbled inside it. His curiousity got the best of him as he unfolded the it.

‘Mrs. Kara Adama’

Hotdog had heard rumors about Starbuck being involved with the commander’s dead son but that had been years ago. If rumors were to be believed she hadn’t let a dead fiance stop her from having fun. Why would she suddenly think of a future that could never happen?

As he read further down the paper the name was continued in different scripts and variations “Mrs. Kara Thrace Adama’, ‘Mrs. Kara “Starbuck” Thrace Adama’.

It was not until he came upon the last name that realization dawned on his face.

‘Mrs. Kara Lee Adama.’

[ddt73.livejournal.com]

lol

BSG + Friends = Genius!

[ddt73.livejournal.com]

Very cute. :)

Mrs. Kara Lee Adama... lol

[delle.livejournal.com]

I.... who would think to put Friends and BSG together? And, damn woman, IT WORKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[anamarya.livejournal.com]

this is hilarious. I can't imagine Kara doing something so girly like that but i can perfectly imagine Hotdog's face. LOL.

[acsgrlie.livejournal.com]

I was in a cracky mood haha

[acsgrlie.livejournal.com]

Thanks!

[anamarya.livejournal.com]

i really, really love this video. I was never a very big fan of Friends but i watched kind of all of it and now i want to go back.

I hope to be back with secrets later.

[velvety2010.livejournal.com]

awesome video! too funny...

[callmeonetrack.livejournal.com]

Lol. NAH NAH NAH NAH NAH NAH NAH NAH! *snap snap*

Adorable vid! In the spirit of BSG vidded to other TV show themes, I have to link to daybreak777's awesome Cheers vid: "Joe's" (http://daybreak777.livejournal.com/125486.html)!

Will have to think on a secret...

[themonkeytwin.livejournal.com]

Okay, so, one: totally adorkable vid.

Er, two: ever since we did the rewatch last week, I've been trying to get into Dee's head. Which I do not, incidentally, necessarily believe I've succeeded in.

Three: I was attempting to fic my way toward this, and it ended up kind of more Lee-centric meta, as filtered through Dee's (um, possible) perspective.

Four: the prompt SECRETS gave me exactly the right thread to tie one end to the other.

BUT, five: it's set during Sometimes A Great Notion, and thus is the OPPOSITE of cracky, silly, short, and so on. Also, we all know how it ends.

Therefore, six: I'm going to post it, but I would like to say right now that even though I've tried to make her thought processes make sense in light of her suicide, that is very different to meaning I agree with them all.

fic: what it takes to believe (1/2)

[themonkeytwin.livejournal.com]

You sit across from him, this gleaming golden man, indestructible amidst the rubble of the world, carrying its weight on his unbowed shoulders, and everything finally makes sense. You know the secret, the secret that is so big and so obvious that everyone lives it and no one really notices it.

He laughs, in this momentary release from the revelations of the day, and the light in his eyes blasts clear to your bare soul, and you know that you didn’t understand before. Not really. You always wanted something to believe in, and knew that believing in something was to belong to it, become a part of it. But somehow, you assumed it would go both ways. Should go both ways. That you should own what you believed in, just as wholly as it owned you.

You watch his deft, expressive smirk, a thousand data points coiled into a single knowing glance, and realize that Sam had known better than you. Sam had known the secret. Now, so do you. There were times that you despised Sam for his weakness, lacking the will, the courage, to fight for all or nothing. But you were wrong.

You both take a simultaneous drink, flirty eyes across rims, while distantly you think it should hurt more. This laying down of your whole self on the altar of another, and not receiving a whole self back. But you’re drifting now, in the calm far beyond the breakers, the violence of hope dashing itself upon reality’s shores, and have discovered that in the total freedom of despair is the gift of freedom from disappointment, too. Maybe that’s why you can bear it enough to see it, now. Why you can accept the stark, terrible beauty of it.

Creases dance across his face, aurorae gracing his expressions, finding no purchase even where there should have been permanent etchings of grief and responsibility. It struck you in the ready room, how youthful, how bright and clear his face was still after these long, cruel years, and that was probably when you knew. When you saw all of it, laid out, perfect like a batch of communication signals in an orderly queue. Saw him in that instant in his difference, his otherness, where you always thought you were the same. Saw him standing in the crashing breakers and the wash of flotsam, feet planted, immovable, straight, glorious. Saw that this was his domain, this frenzied boundary you could no longer endure and had fled for safer, more human waters.

You bask in his attention, at last able to simply be in his presence. No longer buffeted and spending yourself simply to remain upright, pushing and pulling to grasp at what you can never have. You can see him, as you couldn’t when you sparred with him as his comrade, lay beside him as his wife, stood across from him as his XO. See his heart and his head in blazing unity in his blue eyes, the temple flame undimmed. He holds the hope and the healing of the entire human race within the powerful sweep of his chest, the elegant strength of his arms and legs, holds it so naturally even in the turbluence and the doubt that he doesn’t even notice that’s what he does. You wonder how you ever thought you could encompass all of that.

fic: what it takes to believe (2/2)

[themonkeytwin.livejournal.com]

A soft, wistful smile plays on his lips to the music of some old memory, a smile that was never yours, and you can smile back because this is your secret. For years, now, you have spent yourself here, tended this altar, singing its hymns with more-than-faith because you know. And now you were called on once more, for the last time. You, the only one who knew the sacraments for this rite, who for your devotion had been granted entrance to the inner sanctum in which to give them.

His eyes snap back to yours, and you are filled with gratitude, flying with it. You never want to come down. Your father would be incensed, probably, at this acknowledgment of inequality. If it had merely been a matter of man and woman, you’d agree. But now you see beyond that, see the truth of it, and know that the curse of inequality is also the blessing of the greater taking in the smaller. You know you were claimed. You were sheltered under the wing of his strength. You were cherished, in your way. Sometimes you were even needed. And, you understand now, you were protected.

The soft caress of his fingers across the back of your hand speaks this secret so plainly you’re surprised no one else can hear it. Such a small, easy gesture from him, and this connection of skin-to-skin is the world to you, far beyond the reach of rusting starships and ruined planets. You were never religious as most of Sagittaron was religious, but you have heard enough of the lives and quick deaths of the humans the gods took as consorts. You always imagined it would be worth it, to pay so much and yet receive more; so much it could not be contained and eventually destroyed. He drew you into his world but shielded you from all of him, and you resented him for that, resented the one who always had all of him and was so careless with it. But now you know that might be the only reason you lasted as long as you did.

He leads you home, swaying with you, teasing and humoring you, and you are at peace. Euphoric, utter peace, clinging to the secret wrapping you safely up in its inhuman truth. This is what it is to love a god. This is what it takes to believe in something, this no longer trying to stand in both worlds as they tear you apart, trying to possess something that swallows you whole. You made your choice a long time ago, and you didn’t realize that it would ask all you had until now, when you look back and see that you have given everything.

You kiss him, his lips passionate but somehow chaste. A precious tender of his respect and thanks, and you savor this reward of your faith, your sacrifice, a benediction at the end of your unending dedication. This is all you ever needed to believe in, and if you now know you’ll never have all that you want, in this moment you have all you can ever hope for. Not the military. Not the Old Man. Not the lies of the pantheon who led you to a ruined dream. Just this man, your god: Apollo.

[kag523.livejournal.com]

*high fives*

I want to see what you've created! Go HEATHER!!!

[kag523.livejournal.com]

Right back to YOU! I want to see YOUR MANIPS!!!! :>D

[kag523.livejournal.com]

*high fives* THANK YOU!!! And thanks for coming by! I want to see some SECRETS EXPOSED HON! Get going on this! :>D

[kag523.livejournal.com]

Shared showers, shared bunks, limited living space. Secrets were few, far between and hard to keep.

Hee hee! I TOTALLY agree! Now... have you shared a secret yet? Hmmm...?

[kag523.livejournal.com]

Hee hee! This is AWESOME! I actually giggled. :>D

[kag523.livejournal.com]

*high fives* Thank you! Now... I happen to KNOW you have lots of crazy footage of KS and JB. I CHALLENGE YOU to make a teeny tiny (10 sec or so) secret exposed. C'mon... you'd be AWESOME at that! :>D

[kag523.livejournal.com]

*hugs* IT DOES! (And wait until you see tomorrow's vid. *wiggles eyebrows*

[kag523.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I was kind of indifferent to Friends, but I love how happy this vid feels. :>D