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writersdrug · 17 days

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Simon Riley x DogSitter! Reader

Next ->

After Riley's injury on a mission, she can no longer be a part of the task force. Simon reluctantly starts looking for a dog-sitter to watch her while he's away for work, and that's when you show up on his doorstep.

A/n no warnings, just reader being ditsy. Based her personality off of Daphne Moon from "Frasier." Enjoy! (PS next chapter of IDNY and the solo fic for Ghost hurt/comfort are on the way!)

Simon Riley would have laughed if anyone had suggested that he needed a dog-sitter.

Riley, his eighty-pound German Shepherd and only family (outside of the 141, of course), went with him everywhere. Grocery store? There she was, K-9 vest on to avoid getting the stink eye from trouble-stirring strangers. Missions? She was there, working alongside Simon, and when she couldn't join, she was safe and tucked away on the animal unit back on base. At the small, one-story unit he called home? You'd better believe she's sitting on the couch next to him as he watches the telly, trying not to succumb to his daily nap. He never considered having a dog-walker care for her, since there was hardly a second where she wasn't walking right there with him.

But of course, as expected - life threw him a curveball.

The mission had gone well so far; everyone was booking it to exfil, hardly worrying about the few enemies left who could barely manage to fire their guns. Simon and Riley were sprinting to the heli, Simon already imagining how he was going to take a fat nap when he got back to base, when he heard it - amidst the sparce gunshots, Riley's pained yelp.

Simon had never shot someone so fast, but before he knew it, there was a bullet planted between the enemy soldier's eyes. Simon rushed to scoop Riley into his arms as she whined and howled - he loaded her onto the helicopter with Soap's help, hands shaking as he looked for the damage. Her right hind leg was bleeding, and every time he tried to look at it, she snapped her teeth in his direction with a shrill yap.

Simon couldn't hear Price as he promised to get her into surgery ASAP. He didn't register Gaz wrapping gauze around her leg as he carried her off the heli and into the medbay. He couldn't hear Johnny trying to comfort him as they stood in the hall, waiting for her to come out of the operating room so Simon could finally see her again. The only thing he could comprehend was her cries, her blood, and the fact that he was responsible for all this.

It wasn't a lethal injury, he knew that. But he assumed, and the vet later confirmed that she wouldn't be fit to continue working. And that terrified him. He had to continue working - what would happen to her? He wouldn't put her up for adoption, in fact, he'd nearly bit the head off the poor soldier who had suggested the idea. She'd be coming home with him, once she had fully healed, but then what? How would he take care of her when he had to go on missions?

He couldn't. Much to his chagrin, and as much as he hated the thought of her being under anyone else's responsibility, he was forced to hire a pet-sitter. He begrudgingly posted ads online, and even put his request up at the local doggie-daycare, despite having never sent Riley there. It didn't take long after bringing Riley home before people began to answer his ad, and he plucked a good handful of them to interview over the weekend.

So, there he was - sitting in the breakfast nook with Riley at his feet, silently judging each interviewee that had walked into his home. He was quite disappointed in the selection.

Simon had already decided 'no' to nearly every dog sitter that had answered his ad. He sat across from them as they described their skills and achievements, bored out of his mind as they treated the interview like it was a college application. He didn't want an egotistical, decorated twat caring for his dog... if Riley didn't care about this bloke being voted 'dog-walker of the month' by the doggie daycare, why should he?

He knew it came down to much more than that - but he was going by Riley's reaction, too. And so far, she was uninterested in all seven that he had interviewed thay day. She sat by Simon's feet, bum leg out and eyes zoning out on the stranger's shoes as they droned on. No one had actually paid much attention to her, instead focusing on impressing Simon.

He hated to admit it, but a boarding house for dogs might be the best option.

He had just scratched the second to last name off of his list of interviewees, pouring himself a cup of coffee at 4 pm, when a knock rapped at his door. He sighed, looking down at Riley; she was laying on her side, huffing at the fact that the random visits from random people was still going on.

"One more, eh?" Simon said, reaching down to ruffle her ears. She groaned through her nostrils in annoyance as he straightened out and walked towards the door.

He reluctantly opened it to find you standing there.

You, with nothing but your phone and keys, wearing a t shirt, oversized plaid, leggings, and sneakers. No folder full of resumes and reviews, no bone-shaped doggie bag holders... the only other thing you had was an apologetic look on your face.

"Hi." You said warily.

"Evenin'." Simon responded, leaning against the door.

You sighed. "I should let you know- well, aren't I being rude..." You rolled your eyes at yourself and stuck your hand out at him. You stated your name with a sheepish smile.

He stared at your hand for a second, before shaking it with his own. "Simon."

The way your eyes lingered on his hand after he had gripped it so firmly didn't go unnoticed by him - but you quickly regained focus. "Well - before you waste your time on me, I should explain: I didn't read the posting correctly, and I thought this was a house-sitting gig. Only just noticed when I checked the address before I left... figured I'd still stop by since I told you I would."

You were looking at the ground out of embarrassment at this point. Simon's brow furrowed as he observed you. House-sitting isn't horrendously different from pet-sitting... he thought. "Well-"

"But I love dogs!" You quickly interjected. "Had three of them growing up, two bullies and a golden! Loves of my life, they are- never a day I didn't walk them. Well, besides that one week for Becca's wedding- and when my Nan had that nasty virus and I had to check up... on her..."

Simon's raised brow must have made you realize the tangent you had embarked on, because you snapped your mouth shut. You cleared your throat nervously and shifted on your feet.

Simon was the tiniest bit entertained. "And how's your Nan now?" He asked.

"Oh, much better." You said with a smile. "'Course, that was four years ago... she- she's alive, I mean! God, that sounded morbid, didn't it?"

Simon huffed out a laugh, before he stepped to the side and nodded his head towards the inside. "C'mon in - you came out this way, might as well chat. Could maybe use a house-sitter, too."

You muttered a quick 'thanks' and stepped inside, immediately taking note of how pristine and bare the home was. No decorations, only dark grey furniture with darker accents... the closest thing to decor was probably the mauve throw blanket over the back of the sofa.

"You like cleaning?" You speculated, following Simon into the kitchen.

"Not home enough to get it dirty." He replied nonchalantly, seating himself at the breakfast nook. He took a sip from his mug as he shoved a hand in his sweatshirt pocket. "Coffee?"

"Oh, no thanks." You shook your head politely. "Not now, anyways. I'll be up all-"

You cut your reasoning short when you spotted Riley, sitting still by Simon's feet. "Oh, hello!" You chirped, lowering yourself down to your knees and reaching your knuckles towards her, palm-up. "You must be Riley!"

She hesitated, then sniffed your knuckles, huffed, sniffed again, and thumped her tail slowly. She tilted her head back and looked at Simon with a questioning glance.

He chuckled, rubbing between her ears. He watched as you fished a small baggie from your pocket, taking out one of the lumpy, golden balls from the contents. You held it up for Simon to see.

"Peanut butter bacon cookie." You said, and Riley sniffed the air between her and the treat. "No sugars, no preservatives. Picked some up from the daycare on the way here."

Simon nodded once. "You can give-"

Before he could finish, Riley flawlessly snatched the cookie from between your fingers, downing it in a few bites. She licked her lips and stared at you as you laughed.

"Where are your manners?!" You said, poking her side. She followed your finger with her nose, searching for another treat.

You looked back at Simon. "I hope that was alright."

Simon shrugged, though he silently scolded Riley for accepting something from a stranger so quickly. "She'll survive."

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Over the next hour - which was twice as long as he had entertained anyone that day - Simon listened to you ramble about your qualifications. Except, you didn't mention reviews, awards, or self achievements. You talked about your family dogs (the two pitbulls, Rowena and Charlemagne, and the golden retriever, Donald). You described the time you took care of your neighbor's schnauzer and home when she had to make a last minute trip to Berlin for two weeks. You talked about the best trails for dogs based on the texture of the ground and the environment (the younger dogs liked Swan's trail more, due to the thicker, woody area; older ones seemed to like Ellington park, where it was more of a suburban area with smoother paths). You rattled on about how that damn husky in the apartment across from you is always yelling, and how you really should invest in some noise-cancelling headphones.

Simon listened to every word you said. You seemed to know more than just how to walk a dog - it was almost as if you knew their language. You didn't just live with them, you cared about their personalities and preferences. He had a subconscious appreciation for how you regarded them - despite trying to keep up the act thay he was unhappy about needing a dog-sitter, he liked you.

And clearly, so did Riley. She was laying at Simon's feet, completely relaxed, eyes flitting between you and your hand movements as you spoke. You would occasionally look down to her, as if you were letting her know that she was also a part of the conversation, and she would lift her head ever so slightly and stare back - like she was listening.

"- and she decided that the day before my biochemistry exam, she was going to take her frustration out on my notes! Papers everywhere, even my sticky notes were torn up! You'd think she had a personal vendetta against me, wouldn't you?" You looked down at Riley for affirmation, and she looked back at you and slapped her tail against the floor a few times.

Simon chuckled, then sighed. "Well- I think you're more than qualified for this, and I think she likes you." He nudged Riley with his foot, who looked at him and huffed.

Your eyes widened. "Does that mean I got the job?"

He nodded. "Don't know when I'll be deployed next, but it should be soon. I'll send you an email with Riley's routine, and if you want to make some extra cash, I'll include some things you can do around the house."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" You exclaimed. You leaned down to Riley, who reached her head out and sniffed the air between your faces. "Ya hear that girl? You're stuck with me!"

Simon chuckled and stood up, followed by you and Riley. "You can expect to hear from me by Tuesday. I'll give you the spare key the morning I head out."

You followed him out of the kitchen and towards the front door. Riley pushed past you to stay close to Simon's side.

"That's fine. My schedule's flexible, I don't do much besides babysit. Also, let me know her preferences, like where she likes to walk, treats, toys, things like that."

Simon opened the door for you and you stepped outside, turning to face him on the landing. "Also - glad you didn't go with Mitchell. Bloke's a fraud."

Simon's brow raised as he leaned against the door. "S'cuse me?"

"Daniel Mitchell. Saw him on your piece of paper there." You replied, making Simon look down at the crumpled list of interviewees in his hand. "He was NOT dog-walker of the month - in fact, he was turned away when he applied to work at the daycare. He treated the dogs like they were cats, for gods sake! Said they don't actually need to be walked n' you can just let them in the backyard for a few minutes. He's out of his head!"

You sighed, tugging your keys out of your flannel pocket. "Anyways, I should get going. I'll look out for your email!" You turned and departed down the walkway, not sparing Simon a second glance as you left him in the doorway. "See you soon!"

He watched you climb into your small car, returning the wave you gave him before you pulled out of his driveway and disappeared down the street. Simon felt an odd stillness in his home - you had came and went like a storm, and the only evidence that you were ever here was the small baggie of peanut butter and bacon cookies on the kitchen table. He sighed, closing his front door and looking down at Riley.

"She's either gonna be the best, or the worst." He said, running a hand down his face.

Riley let out a groan, which turned into a high-pitched growl. She shifted her weight back and forth on each foot anxiously.

He raised an eyebrow. "Want t' go see Johnny?" He asked. She barked at the familiar name, running to where her leash hung in the closet.

He supposed it was about time. He hadn't seen his team since she was sent home. He knew she was probably aching to see someone other than him right now, and he was honestly going a little stir crazy himself, after spending so much time in the normal, civilian world.

He moved next to her, grabbing the leash and snapping it to her collar. She immediately ran back to the door and waited for him to open it, and he laughed.

"A'right, a'right... but no tackling Price this time. Nearly took out a few of his teeth last time, ya ninny."

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Short dribble while I figure out writers block for I Don't Need You. This will have multiple parts but it will be a shorter fic. Let me know if you want to be tagged!

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost #simon ghost riley #cod fanfiction #cod mw3 #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod #cod x reader

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thatfandomslut · 3 months

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Date Me, Not Him

Karen Shetty x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Trigger Warning: nothing but fluff

Request:

could you please do Karen Shetty x fem reader where she gets jealous and it leads to a confession?

Mean Girls request are open.

There were three topics that Karen Shetty was exceptional at: relationships, the internet, and parties. Then, there were class subjects that (Y/n) helped her at least keep a 'B' average in. Her parents had hired (Y/n) during their freshman year to tutor (Y/n). It gave her an into the semi-popular crowd, and it kept her from being bullied despite her 'nerdy' status. It was how she was able to attend several parties alongside Karen, who seemed to cling to her at events. This was something that did not go unnoticed by Regina George, the HBIC or Queen Bee of North Shore High. The relationship between Karen and (Y/n) caused Regina to step in when anyone thought to mess with (Y/n). After all, Karen has admitted how important the girl was to her.

However, there was one person who slipped through Regina's feelings at a party. Perhaps because she observing Cady and Aaron rather than keeping her eyes peeled on whether Jason or (Y/n) were sticking to Gretchen and Karen. (Y/n) had almost jumped when the boy appeared behind her with a confident smile. "Hey, (Y/n)," he leaned against the wall in front of her. This action blocked her from getting to Karen and Gretchen who had just arrived at the party. Additionally, this action caused Karen to stare at (Y/n) and the boy with an unfamiliar feeling in her chest.

(Y/n)'s forte was homework, and she was oblivious to the flirting that came her way. That was why she didn't process when the boy in front of her was trying to hook up with her. Instead, she was taking his compliments as if he wanted to be friends, laughing at his jokes. Karen on the other hand was pouting with Gretchen staring in between her and (Y/n).

"You could always tell her how you feel," Gretchen reminded Karen. She has been trying to convince Karen to ask out (Y/n) for months. Especially with the prom coming just around the corner. She even offered to help her in various ways. For example, Gretchen was able to have a deep conversation one day during their shared physics class. They were lab partners and often had discussions when doing their worksheets. She learned that (Y/n) enjoyed roller skating, something that Karen had in common with her. So, she told Karen, who didn't catch what she was trying to do. "Then, you wouldn't have to worry about guys like Ben Frasier."

Gretchen was right, and Karen knew it. For someone who could play matchmaker with the entire school, she never was good at getting into a relationship herself. Mainly because not many people respected her. However, (Y/n) always treated her like a human. So did Gretchen and Regina, but it was different. She never treated Karen like she was dumb, and she always believed in her. That was something that Karen always came to appreciate in the long run. So, in a rush of bravery, she decided to go for it.

"Hey, (Y/n)," Karen smiled, taking (Y/n) hand in her own. This was something that Ben noticed, looking in between the two skeptically. Noticing the way (Y/n)'s cheeks brightened, he realized he didn't have a chance. "You look so great in the outfit." Her voice was its usual airy tone, but this time it held an edge. She looked over at Ben as if she didn't notice him the entire time. "Oh, hi, Ben."

Ben wasn't one to keep advancing when it was obvious that the person he was pursuing wasn't into him. He respected that, and even though he was attracted to (Y/n), he realized she was not into him. "Hey, Karen," he waved politely. "I should get going, but it was great finally meeting you, (Y/n). You two have fun tonight." He winked before walking away. Karen could feel herself grow triumphant at his exit from the conversation.

The action thoroughly confused (Y/n), but she was still too aware of Karen's fingers wrapping around her own to comment. Instead, she just glanced over at the girl with a nervous smile. She made no move to take her hand from Karen's, but she did turn to the girl with a questioning look on her face. "Is everything okay?" She squeezed Karen's hand, breaking the girl's stare that followed Ben's retreating figure. "Did you want to talk to Ben? I can call him back over if you need me to." (Y/n) would've been disappointed if Karen said yes, but she was unsure of what was happening between the two right now. Karen had never grabbed her hand. She had never gotten so close to (Y/n) that she made the girl feel dizzy.

Karen's brows furrowed, trying to figure out what she wanted to say exactly. "I didn't like him flirting with you," Karen said simply, making it sound like the conversation was done. But (Y/n) could tell by how deep in thought that Karen was that she wasn't done with her thoughts. So, she waited patiently, wanting to allow Karen the time she needed to think and process those thoughts. "I want you to date me, not him. I want you to be my girlfriend." Karen finally confessed, her eyes meeting (Y/n) confidently. She was proud of herself for finally telling (Y/n) what she wanted.

(Y/n) smiled a bit as she leaned up to give Karen a soft kiss. Karen smiled into the kiss, her arms wrapping around (Y/n)'s shoulders. As (Y/n) pulled away, she couldn't help but feel giddy. "I want you to be my girlfriend, too, Karen. Was this your way of asking to be official?" (Y/n) wanted to make sure she was right about Karen's statement rather than assume that they were official. When Karen nodded with content, (Y/n) bit her lip to hide her smile before giving her a quick kiss again.

From the background, Gretchen smirked at the couple, proud of Karen finally stepping up. "So, they finally happened?" Regina asked as Cady stood beside her with red lipstick stains on her cheeks and lips. They were planted there by Regina. Gretchen gave them a nod with a smile. "Finally," Regina crossed her arms. "I thought Karen would never confess. (Y/n) may be smart, but she was too oblivious." She commented as they watched the two girls begin to dance to the music.

#karen shetty x reader #karen shetty #mean girls x reader #mean girls

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mysterycitrus · 5 months

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Duke hcs? 🤲

Headcanon A: realistic

without realising it, he often thinks in negative space. as he sketches, he finds himself isolating shadows, rather than light - unconciously identifying what his eyes can't see. he considers studying architecture, or engineering, and rebuilding the west side into something shining and good that his parent's would be proud to return to. a rooftop that will catch the sunrise of a morning, windows looking to the water. if he grovels a little, damian will add tiny, scaled, illustrated residents to the future he wants to build. he puts himself, incandescently small and rendered in chicken scratch, square between those he loves.

Headcanon B: while it may not be realistic it is hilarious

looking at superman for the first time almost blinds him. starfire is even worse. getting introduced to superboy by tim was a little better, but only because he was already wearing sunglasses indoors. kon's bright smile just makes his eyes water. when he is close to them, it's like standing next to a lit fuse, pulsing with energy and just out of reach.

Headcanon C: heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends

duke doesn't come out the other side of the war being scared of clowns. he keeps waiting to be, but he sees the joker's pale face, his ratcheting cackle, his pastel suit and bulging yellow eyes as pathetic, not terrifying. instead, one night at jay's, he's flicking through stations and ends up on reruns of full house. his mom loved comedies - living single, frasier, seinfeld, fresh prince, and black adder. it makes his heart hurt, and he settles in to watch when the first laugh track kicks in. terror. horror, disgust, roiling revulsion in his stomach as he hears it in his mind, laughing at everything, laughing at him, like his mother is sat before him again unknowing and hysterical and agonised. he shuts it off, hands clapped over his ears, trying to breathe. no one is there but him. even jay can't hear him cry.

Headcanon D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own.

duke remembers jason todd's dildo dome phase. during dick's brief reign as the batman, he'd watched red hood misjudge the height of a fire escape and accidentally wedge his head in between the rungs on a tight angle. once duke realises it's the same person, he can't take him seriously. he thinks about jason's accidentally beaning himself trying to walk through a low doorway. he wonders if jason can still turn his head, or if he has to pivot his whole body like an owl when he's wearing the helmet. he considers the dome's practical uses as a headpiece, or as an exercise in fashion delusion. jason tries to intimidate him, once, and duke just says: "keep it in the bedroom, butt boy," and takes off before jason realises what's going on.

#wehehehehehe #duke thomas #jason todd #dc comics #batfam #the ask and the answer #ask game #b and d really should be swapped but idc

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silverzoomies · 2 months

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Alone

peter maximoff x reader fluff

warnings: fluff, humor, first meetings, pining, female reader

word count: 3,461

a/n: just a drabble i spent way too long on. based on something i used to daydream about a lot. happy late valentine's day !!

tag list: @dewberryobssesed @violetharmonscupcake @kaismanwich @jellyluvr @icannot3 @taintandviolent @ahoyladiesz @scene-and-dandylover @quickandsilvers @luttic @billielourdslays

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Peter sits, slouched on the floor against the foot of a sofa. Glimmers of light flicker in his eyes, as he indulges in some mind numbing television. Reruns of Frasier play stereotypical laugh tracks, droning through the basement. He can’t help but follow suit. Chuckling along in quiet huffs, he shakes his head.

Upstairs, the house rests in silence. Dead quiet. Magda snores softly in her room. Lorna’s probably conked out too. And Wanda? She’s gone. Somewhere. He could never guess. She doesn’t tell anyone where she goes on weeknights. But hey, what’s it matter to him? So long as she’s playing it safe.

Peter snickers at another corny, sitcom joke. He guzzles down handfuls of Reese's pieces. The candies rustle in their small box. But with the rustle, his ears catch something else. Distant and faint. Outside the realm of television laugh tracks and candy clicks.

It’s a lyrical melody, playing with romantic cadence from outside the basement window. Peter tilts his head back, drinking a glass bottle Pepsi. Fizzy sweetness mildly irritates his throat. Raising a brow, he guides his gaze to the window. One more chug of his soda, and he snatches the remote.

The roar of sitcom television falls into stillness.

And sure enough, a tune whispers from beyond the window’s glass. Like the call of a sea siren through the neighborhood. But it’s 10pm on a Tuesday night. And the likelihood of a smokin’ hot siren crawling from the ocean - to a house in middle class suburbia - is beyond impossible. Unless Peter’s dreaming again.

In which case; wait for him, nautical dames. He'll grab his trunks and be out flash.

And the night goes by so very slow

Oh I hope that it won’t end though

Alone

Peter narrows his eyes at the window, scoffing to himself. Woah, now. Is he warped in the head? Or is the mantra of Heart crying out from beyond the shadows? Peter appears at the window in a zip. Raising himself on his toes, he launches his body upward. Through smudged glass, Peter’s black hues scan the world outside. A shadowy mass looms in the grass, imposing and somewhat terrifying.

Until he realizes, it’s someone holding a giant boombox over their head. Phew .

Til now I always got by on my own

I never really cared until I met you

And now it chills me to the bone

How do I get you alone

Peter’s silver brows furrow again.

“What the hell?” He mutters under his breath.

He unlatches the window, pushing it open. Allowing that unmistakable tune to come through much clearer. Peter watches the mysterious, boombox stranger for a moment longer. A beat passes, and Peter sighs. He could just as easily zip out there, confront the culprit, and return to his basement lickety split. Instead, he opts for the casual approach.

Peter pushes himself through the window, his bare feet scuffing the basement wall. He accidentally kicks over a set of speakers. Some he stole five years ago and forgot about. They tumble off a wall shelf and crash hard onto the floor. Knocking down a bunch of stolen street signs in their wake. If Maximoffs weren’t such deep sleepers, he’d be in for it now. Big time.

As soon as Peter’s out, he stumbles in the grass. Mumbling a hushed - Shit.

You don’t know how long I have wanted

To touch your lips and hold you tight

You don’t know how long I have waited

And I was going to tell you tonight

Crawling through the dry, winter grass, Peter finally stands. With an exhale, he wipes dirt from his grey sweatpants. The rando in his yard doesn’t react, but they lower the boombox a little. Peter waits at a distance, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“Who are you? Whaddya wannnnnt?” He shouts.

Til now I always got by on my own

I never really cared until I met you

And now it chills me to the bone

How do I get you alone?

No response from the rando. With a simple gesture, they tap the speaker of the boombox. Whatever that means. Rolling his eyes, Peter strides across the cold grass. Shirtless in the brisk, February air. He raises a hand to scratch his messy, silver bedhead. As he moves in closer, the neighborhood street lights illuminate the figure’s features.

Up until now, he thought some weirdo guy snuck out to pine for Wanda’s attention. Peter’s ready to kick his ass if he needs to. Poor Wanda’s always got dudes falling to her feet on Valentine's day. But she usually does the ass kicking. More power to her.

Guess he won’t have to this time. Turns out, it’s just some weirdo girl.

How do I get you alone?

Peter puts a stop to the song before it reaches its end. Extending a hand in a quick blur, he abruptly clicks a button on the box. The neighborhood drowns itself in late night silence all over again. Interrupted only by the occasional car passing in the distance. Peter’s vascular arms cross over his chest. Lidded eyes leer straight at the mystery woman.

“Sooooooooo…” He tilts his head to the side, “Who are you? And why are you playing Heart outside my house at, like, ass-o-clock at night?” Peter pauses, eyes narrowing in suspicious slits, “Are you tryna pick up my sister? ‘Cuz you kinda look the type. And I know she’s been ‘tryin’ new things’ lately.” He gestures with air quotes, “If you catch my drift. Not that it’s any of my business. Point is , she’s not here.”

Boombox girl lowers said boombox down into the grass. She shakes her head, reaching into the pocket of her oversized cardigan.

“Pick up your sis- hah! ” She snickers with a snort, dawning a bashful smile. Boombox girl runs her other hand through her hair, “No! Noooo, it’s not like that! Uhm…I was actually playing Alone for you, silly.”

Peter drops his arms to his sides, and his heart skips a speedy beat. Scrunching his nose, he curls his lip.

“Youplayedwhatforwhonow?” He slides his hands into his sweatpants pockets, awkwardly rocking back and forth on his heels. The apples of his cheeks burn, and Peter clears his throat, “Uhhhh. Okay. Thanks? That’s…sweet, I guess. But, I-I’m sorry, do I know you?”

Her smile’s kind of adorable. Especially as she rubs her neck, displaying timid hesitance. Whatever confidence she had, she must’ve maxed out on 80’s romance cliches.

“Not really? I mean, I’ve seen you around. A lot. But you’ve never really noticed me, so…”

Alrighty then. That makes this interaction even weirder. But Peter’s pulled equally weird - if not more desperate stops to win some hearts in the past. And he may or may not be guilty of the same technique she’s using now.

Give him a break, okay? So what if he took a chance on it once? Back when he was eighteen and leagues more naive. It’s a little cheesy, sure. But it’s also the story of how he lost his v-card. And not the Valentine’s kind.

Case in point, it worked for him. So, he’ll bite.

“And you thought crashin’ outside my house, blastin’ some corny song while my family’s asleep - that’s a smoother move than…oh, I dunno…just talkin’ to me?”

She shrugs again, her guilty eyes looking down at the grass. Boombox girl raises a foot, tapping the ground with the tip of her boot. God, she’s obviously so nervous. And he's not gonna lie, it's a little charming. The corners of Peter’s lips turn up in a grin.

“I thought it might get your attention. You just…you move so fast all the time. And I’m really slow when it comes to these kinds of things. You were always gone before I ever got the chance.”

“How’d you know where I live?” Peter throws her a nod of his head, pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek.

Pulling her hand from her pocket, she fixes her attention on the plastic case of a cassette tape.

“My uncle tried to arrest you once.” She grins, “He was out on patrol. Saw you steal a speed limit sign. Your mom paid him to let you off the hook.”

Peter’s brows fly up under his bangs. His cheeky smile spreads into his dimples.

“Your unc-...seriously? Whoa. No kiddin’?” He laughs, “Wish I could say I remember. But that sorta thing used to happen to me all the time.”

Not like he wasn’t asking for it back then. But to be fair, Peter’s made some drastic improvements. When it comes to his klepto compulsions, anyway. Excluding the influx of junk food and Garbage Pail Kid cards he snags on a daily basis. From nation-wide chain stores. Totally ethical.

“Yeah, I know.” She giggles, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. This way, he actually gets a good look at her. Soft lips. Pretty eyes, “You used to be the talk of the station, where he worked. Those guys never shut up about you.”

Reaching forward, she passes Peter the cassette in her hand.

“What’s this?” He gently takes it, inspecting the hand-made label inside the case. Decorated in little, lightning bolt doodles. Even some hearts. Aw. Cute. Scratched across it in messy handwriting, are the words - For the kleptomaniac. In exchange for my heart. You stole it forever ago.

Come on. Could she be any more corny?

“It’s a mixtape.” She bites her lip like she’s terrified to keep talking, “It’s cool if you don’t listen to it. I dunno if you’ll even like what’s on it. But I know you carry around that Walkman all the time.”

Uh huh. Did her uncle tell her that too? Get outta here.

“Does it have Heart on it?” Peter flips the case over in his hand, pursing his lips.

“Of course it has Heart on it.”

“Awww. Givin’ me Heart for your heart.” He snickers, turning pinker in his cheeks, “This is legit the cheesiest thing a girl’s ever done for me. I’m kinda buggin’ out right now.”

“Oh yeah? I mean, I can always take it back, if you-” She teases, like she thinks he’s being sarcastic.

She reaches for the tape. But as her fingers brush the case, Peter raises it above his head. The motion happens quickly, before she can even keep up. Boombox girl wasn’t foolin’. She is slow. Slower than a turtle on tranquilizers. As she makes another attempt, Peter drops his hand in a speedy blur.

“Hey, hey, hey. Nuh uh. No takesie-backsies.” He teases, waving a finger, “A trades a trade, babe.”

Her hands rest at her hips, and she flutters her long lashes. So shamelessly flirtatious, but still not enough to win him over. Not just yet. Even if her bedroom eyes offer a tempting invite. Like, seriously, so tempting.

Mama didn't raise him like that, though. Peter has somewhat of a delinquent track record, sure. But he's still a good hearted gentleman. He'll take her out on a few dates first. Treat her to a little arcade romance, before he tries some no pants dancing.

If she's not playing him for a complete jackass, that is. Really, it’s almost too good to be true.

No chick has ever pined for him this hard in his life. And Peter’s never had the chance to play hard to get. He bets dollars to donuts, boombox babe probably isn't a mutie either. Talk about some major role reversal. How often does a human girl beg and plead for mutant man's love? She knows he's a total shut in, right? Or did her uncle not fill her in on that?

“You still have my heart, though.” She coos, gazing at Peter with those eyes.

Those - embrace me, o’ speedster man of my dreams - eyes.

Yeah. Her uncle most definitely didn't break the news. Peter hisses, teasing her again with a click of his teeth.

“Ooooh. Yeah. Well, finders keepers. Good luck shakin’ that silver lovebug.”

He flirts back and forth with her naturally. Kinda like high school sweethearts. It goes on for a few more minutes. Until he's pestered her enough, she just up and quits. Her car's parked down the street. A Volkswagen bug. Hah. And there she goes. Peter's secret admirer stomps off. Boombox swinging at her side. A wave of guilt almost pulls him under, and Peter starts to regret teasing her so much.

She laughs as she walks away. And the call of her giggle brings him back to the surface, much like a song. Seems like the sirens really did come out tonight.

So, she likes playing games too, huh?

You don’t know how long I have waited

And I was going to tell you tonight

Peter’s not even that much of a Heart fan.

He looks down at the cassette case in his hands. Rolling a thumb over a scratch in the plastic. A beat passes. In a flash, he appears in front of her. Peter walks backwards, padding barefoot along the side of the road.

“So, are you gonna ask me out ‘er what? C'mon, don't be chicken shit. I know you got it in you!” He jokes.

Boombox girl giggles so hard, she breaks out in dorky snorts. Ah, the sexiest, siren song. Too bad that's not a track on the mixtape. He’s willing to slip her some loose change for a raw recording.

By happenstance, another car slows to a stop. Right in the middle of the empty neighborhood street. Colored a familiar shade of scarlet, the vehicle looms for a beat or two. Peter comes to halt, watching as the passenger side window rolls down. Boombox girl crashes right into him.

Shit. Peter just now realized, he doesn't know her name yet.

He grabs her hips on instinct, catching her in case she falls over or something. Her free hand clutches his arm, right over the ‘mom’ tattoo etched into his skin. Naturally, Peter radiates enough warmth to act as a heater. He’s a godsend on cold, lonesome nights. Boombox girl presses her body closer to his, seeking his heat.

Peter knows she does it without thinking, since she whimpers a soft, “ Oh god. I’m so sorry. ”

“It’s cool. You okay?” Peter’s hands linger on her hips.

“What’s going on over there?” Wanda grills playfully from her car. She flits her eyes between her doofus brother, and boombox girl. When Wanda purses her lips, she does so in a way identical to Peter, “Is he giving you any trouble?” She asks what's-her-name.

Peter zips to the passenger side door, crossing his arms over it. Leaning against Wanda’s car through the window, he makes a pfffbbbbtt noise.

“Hey, don’t sweat it, Wands. I’m just walkin’ my future wife to her car.” He raises one of his hands, waving the cassette case, “Check it out, ah? She made me a mixtape! Cute, right?”

Wanda’s knits her brows as she tilts her head. The long, scarlet locks of her hair bounce with the motion. At the side of the road, boombox girl makes an adorable squeal. She covers her blistering face with her hands, mewling silent pleas.

“Oh my god stop. I’m sorry I even said anything. Oh my god. ” What's-her-name whimpers.

Which really isn’t helping the whole suspicious sister situation. Wanda leans back in her seat, peering over Peter’s shoulder at boombox girl. Narrowing her eyes, Wanda looks back at him. And before she can call Peter out on his bullshit, he lowers his arms from the door. Peter drops his chin to it, his tapioca eyes gazing up at Wanda innocently.

He chews his lip. In that ‘ I’m obviously up to no good’ kind of way.

“Y’wanna know what that cutie over there told me?” He purrs, talking loud enough for what’s-her-name to hear, "She said I stole her-"

Boombox girl shrieks, “MAXIMOFF! Please! That was a secret! I’m serious! You’re killing me here, dude!”

Maximoff?

Ohhhhh. She doesn’t actually know his name. Seriously? Didn’t what's-her-name say she’s pined after Peter for a while now? How long is a while? Long enough to know his address, apparently. And to know he likes listening to his tunes. And to know he’s a mutant with a rep for thieving. But not long enough for anyone to drop his name? Did the feds never bother learning it? Ouch. Figures.

“Piet.” Wanda leers at Peter, holding him at gunpoint with her eyes, “Leave that poor girl alone. Look at her! She’s had enough.”

Rolling his eyes, Peter stands up straight. Lazily, he smirks, waving a hand, signaling Wanda to drive off.

“Naaaah! You shoulda seen her back at the house. She’s hopelessly in love with me. Played songs outside my window. Y'know, like they do in the movies? I’m serious! You can ask her yourself if you don’t believe me.”

Once more, Wanda shifts her skeptical gaze to what’s-her-name. The mystery girl carries her boombox to her car. With her head dipped and a free hand over her face. She looks like she’s doing the walk of shame. As if Peter stole a little something else from her and-w hoops. That's also not helping his case at all. Wanda hums, doubtful of Peter’s unlikely story.

He cheeses a toothy grin, looking guilty.

“Really?” Wanda adjusts in her seat, reaching for the radio dial, “Well, you might wanna tell her goodnight. For a girl who’s totally in love with you , she seems in a heck of a hurry to leave.”

And with that, Wanda drives off. Peter stumbles back, his calloused heels scuffing concrete. Wanda’s car rolls all the way down the road and into the driveway. Whipping around, Peter catches what’s-her-name opening the trunk of her love bug. As she lifts the boombox into it, Peter zips up next to her. Latching his arms around the boombox, he gives her an aloof grin.

“Can I borrow this for a sec? Thanks, cutie.” He throws her a wink.

She doesn’t get the chance to ask why. Peter zips back to his spot on the side of the road, clicking a button on the boombox. He raises it over his head, letting Heart roar obnoxiously across the neighborhood. Disrupting the late night peace. Out the corner of his eye, Peter notices a few neighborhood lights come on. The song plays just as Wanda hops out of her car. She stops in the middle of her stride to the front door. Her bags hang from her arms and her keys dangle on her finger.

Wanda squints, eyebrows turned inward.

How do I get you alone?

“I TOLD YOU! SHE’S TOTALLY IN LOVE WITH ME!” Peter yells.

A faint, red glow emanates from Wanda’s hand, as she delicately swipes it in the air. The boombox’s tape player pops open with an click, and Peter lowers the box down in front of him. He playfully pouts, muttering a soft booooooo to himself. Abrupt silence fills the entire neighborhood again, save for the local dogs barking in their yards.

“Say goodnight, Pietro.” Wanda’s voice calls from the driveway, before she disappears into the house.

Peter doesn’t even realize what’s-her-name is standing next to him, until she speaks.

“Pietro’s a beautiful name.”

Peter snickers, feeling heat rise in his cheeks again. Popping open the case she gave him, he swaps the tape for the one in the boombox. Rapidly clicking the volume button, Peter huffs a soft laugh, hooded eyes blinking.

"Thanks. I'd say the same about yours, but I don't even know it." He teases. A little shy, Peter keeps his eyes on the boombox, "I go by Peter, actually."

"Peter. Pietro. Whatever your name is, you embarrassed the shit outta me, man." What's-her-name scoffs. Peter kinda likes the sound of both names in her voice, "You're lucky you're gorgeous."

Gorgeous? Whoa. That's a helluva word. Shit, this really is too good to be true. Peter's heart skips another beat, and he shakes his head. "Y'know, if you still what your heart back, you're shit outta luck, babe." Peter clicks the play button on the boombox, only after some tension heavy beats pass, "Like I said, finders kee-"

An all too familiar melody pours from the boombox speakers, softer now.

I hear the ticking of the clock

I’m lying here the room’s pitch dark

“Seriously?” Peter laughs, slinging an arm over boombox girl's shoulders.

“Yeah, seriously. I told you it had Heart.” She blushes profusely, averting her innocent gaze.

Maybe there really is something to these 80's romance cliches. Peter's almost willing to give up his own heart. Just as compensation for hers.

#peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff #txt

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probably-impossible · 4 months

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Crush

A story about the End of the Wild West; or, the Prophet sees two trains explode on his one-hundred-and-fourth birthday.

(Aka my Activity 1 for the @dollarstrilogyevent that I got way too into hahahaha)

By his own reckoning, Prophet was one-hundred and four years old as of that September in 1896. Perhaps unsurprisingly he had lost most of his hearing, but his vision was still good. He saw the door of his shack swing open, and he struggled to sit up in bed. “I've already found Jesus and I'm not buying anything!”

The face that poked around the door belonged to Fluke Dudley, a young man who worked on the ranch that had sprung up next door. He was just about the only one who visited him anymore. “It's me, Prophet,” he said. “I w- - - - - to - - - - you- -”

“Speak up, boy!”

“I SAID THERE'S SOMEWHERE I'D LIKE TO TAKE YOU TODAY!”

“What? Where's that, then?”

“IT'S A SURPRISE!” Fluke scratched his nose and grinned. “For your birthday. You'll like it, sir, I promise.”

Prophet grumbled but allowed Fluke to lift him into the rickety wheelchair that sat beside his bed. “Don't need remindin’ about no birthday,” he said. “I've had about ten too many of ‘em, I reckon. Wish someone had put me out of my misery back when the goddamn good-for-nothing trains took my hearing!”

“Oh, don't talk like that.”

“I'm a hundred and four years old, I'll talk however I damn well please!”

Fluke rolled him out of the shack, towards one of the ranch's small one-horse wagons. He lifted the old man up onto the seat and stowed the chair in the bed, then jumped up and flicked the reins.

Prophet squinted at the scenery as they rolled slowly alongside the train tracks. “I used to get visits from all sorts of people, you know,” he said. “I used to know everything about everybody in these parts. They'd come from miles around to see me. To get their information.”

Fluke nodded. He'd heard this story before.

“Lawmen, outlaws, drifters,” Prophet continued. “Bounty killers. I've seen them all. But they just don't make men like that anymore. I tell you, boy, things have got too civilized around here.”

“ - - - - ”

“What?”

“I SAID YOU'RE RIGHT!”

“Damn sure I'm right.” Prophet leaned over the side of the wagon to glare down at the tracks. “It's all the fault of those trains! They take all the civilized folk from out east, load ‘em up into their carriage cars with the lacy curtains and little fruity drink trolleys, and send ‘em out here. And soon enough there's so much civilization around a man can't hardly be himself anymore.”

Prophet leaned back and went silent for a while. “I wonder how many of those young men who used to come and see me are still alive,” he said. “They strung up Willie Foster last year, I know that. And Kid Frasier fell off his hoss. That old marshal Colby… whatever happened to him?”

“He got killed in a shootout, you said.”

“Right, right. Davey and Red Kelly done it, and then they run off to Mexico.” He blinked as another wagon passed by them. It was loaded up with people, chatting and laughing. He lost his thought for a moment, then picked it back up again. “Angel Eyes… he's long gone. That retired colonel went back to North Carolina. Now what was that young buck's name… Manco. Fell off the face of the earth, far as I can remember. And worst of all, poor old Cheyenne…”

“Shot in the gut by the president of the railroad company,” Fluke muttered.

“...shot in the gut by the president of the railroad company! Did you ever hear of a worse way to go?!” Prophet sighed. “Somehow I outlived them all. Now I'm the last of a dyin’ breed. They just don't make men like us anymore.”

“No sir,” Fluke said. There were more wagons around now, and people walking along the tracks, too. They all seemed to be going in the same direction. Fluke tipped his hat as they passed by a group of ladies holding parasols.

Prophet looked at him skeptically. “Where exactly are you taking me? There sure are a lot of other people headed this way.”

“You'll find out soon,” Fluke said. “We're almost there.”

“There’s nothin’ wrong with my hair!”

“I SAID WE'RE ALMOST THERE!”

As they kept riding the crowd really started to thicken. They passed by lemonade stands and carnival games, a grandstand with a band, even a circus tent. “Just this once I'm glad I'm deaf,” Prophet muttered. “Who's runnin’ a goddamn county fair along the train tracks?”

Fluke slowly drew the wagon to a stop and pointed up at a large banner that had been hoisted next to a section of the track. It read ‘Crush, Texas. Est. September 15, 1896.’

“The railroad company's putting on a demonstration,” Fluke said, raising his voice even more than usual over the sound of the crowd. “They're gonna take two old steam engines, run ‘em as fast as they can, and crash ‘em right into each other!” He beamed with pride. “How do you like that for a birthday present, sir? You and me are gonna watch two trains smash each other to smithereens!”

Prophet blinked. “...What? The railroad company’s gonna smash their own trains?” he said, puzzled. “What for?”

“They're old engines, I guess,” Fluke said. “No use for ‘em anymore.”

“So they're crashing them? What, with all these people around?”

“It's supposed to be very safe. No chance of the boilers exploding or anything, that's what the man from the railroad said.”

Prophet went quiet for a while. Fluke felt his own excitement start to deflate. He'd been so sure the old man would love to see this. All he ever talked about was how much he hated trains! The whole affair seemed perfectly designed with him in mind. But he didn't look excited. In fact, he seemed a little… sad.

“The railroad company…” he muttered. “Making a whole damn spectacle out of busting up some old trains that aren't good for nothing anymore. And it's perfectly safe. ‘Course it is.”

A ripple of excitement went through the crowd; rumbling could be heard in the distance. Fluke slouched on the bench of the wagon. “...I'm sorry, Prophet. I thought for sure you'd like to see it.”

“Oh, don't look so damn mopey, boy,” Prophet said, gently. “Old bastards like me can't ever be satisfied with nothin’, that's all.”

They sat there in silence for a while. Fluke listened to the rumbling while Prophet watched two black dots appear on either end of the horizon and grow steadily closer.

Eventually the rumbling grew to a roar, and an anticipatory hush fell over the crowd. The ground began to shake. The trains were close enough to their destined meeting place now that Prophet could make out the shape of the engine cars, could see the smoke billowing from their antiquated stacks. For the first time in his life, the sight of the damn things didn't fill him entirely with hatred. They were being put out to pasture, just like him. To make way for newer, better trains. And when it happened it would be a perfectly-designed show, perfectly safe. Perfectly civilized.

The two trains met right beneath the banner. There was a mighty crash, so loud that even Prophet could hear it, and the sound of splintering wood. Then, a moment of total silence.

When the explosion began, time seemed to slow for Prophet. He could see a bright orange light well up within each of the smashed engines, then blossom into two beautiful balls of flame. The light danced in his eyes, and he smiled with glee. The boilers of the old engines had blown up after all. The sight of it was breathtaking.

All this took place within less than a second. As the fire billowed outwards, the force of the explosion sent millions of pieces of metallic debris straight into the gathered crowd. Prophet grinned with ecstasy and thought about how awful this was going to be for the railroad company. Oh, they were going to have hell to pay for this. It was a fiasco. Maybe it would even drive them out of business...! Of all the ways for a man like him to go, this was a fine one. He was grateful the boy had brought him out here, after all.

The explosion nearly knocked Fluke from the wagon, and he felt a stinging pain in his forearms as he shielded his face. It was all over in only a moment. He could hear groans and shouts from the crowd as he slowly regained his senses. He looked down at his arms; he'd been hit by some shrapnel, but not badly.

He turned quickly towards Prophet, then froze. The old man lay flopped backwards over the wagon bench, unmoving.

A metal bolt had gone straight into his forehead. Even so, there was a satisfied smile on his face.

#based on real historical events btw #man it seems like we're all getting into the feels for this first prompt :')#for a few dollars more #prophet #trains #dollarsfandomevent #fan fiction

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erikiara80 · 11 months

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Hint in S3 that Joyce and Hopper were probably a couple in the original timeline

At the beginning of S3, Hopper asks Joyce out, but she declines. That evening, she watches an episode of the sitcom Cheers where a woman named Diane (like Hopper’s wife), tells her friend that a man, Frasier, asked her to marry him after he drank some Chianti.

Screenshots credits to @chirpsythismorning Tagging you too @lilitblaukatz and @shippingfangirl013

In the sitcom, Diane leaves Frasier at the altar. Joyce never shows up at the restaurant. And she and Hopper have been separated by everything, from evil scientists to time manipulation.

But it’s the name Diane and the mention of Chianti, imo, the hint that Hopper and Joyce were together, and that they were a family at some point in the past.

Then there’s a flashback of Joyce and Bob. When I rewatched this scene, knowing what we know now about Vecna and timelines/time loop theories, I nearly spat out my tea.

Bob: They’re funny. I just wish they’d just get back together again already (Joyce: Me too)

He doesn’t say I hope they get together soon. They were a couple in the past. And Diane and Hopper had a child...

Also, in 3x02 Hop gets really drunk with Chianti.

But there are many other hints.

Some of my favorite

This one is insane, lmao.

Joyce’s line in one of the S1 flashbacks: I don’t know who’s been raising you. Then the transition from Will’s drawing (the fireballs/cabbages) to a close up of Hopper’s eyes.

All the Will-Sara parallels in S1. But especially this one. It’s like Hopper is watching Will dying here.

This

Joyce calling Will, then Hopper. It’s interesting, because it really seems like she’s saying Will Hopper.

In 2x04, Will tells Joyce and Hopper that now he knows things that he never did before, and has memories that aren’t his memories. He’s talking about the possession, but if Jopper were together and then they were separated because of a time loop or brainwashing, this scene could be another way to hinting at the truth.

Also: My theory is that Sara is an altered memory and is actually Will or the combination of Will and El, Hopper’s kids, that the lab made him believe he lost. MKUltra was known for this kind of brainwashing.

Twin imagery. In every season. And always connected to Will, El, Joyce and Hopper. I think Jon is really Lonnie’s son-the reason he’s the only one who mentions him. And that Lonnie is the “Biff” of Stranger Things.

I also love that in S3 and S4 Hoppr and Joyce keep saying things like Let’s call our children, our kids are in danger... I mean, it makes sense, but IF Joyce and Hopper are Will and El’s parents, when we’ll rewatch the show, we’ll realize that the truth has always been there, from the beginning, like David said. And it’s beautiful.

Not a Willel twin post, but here some gifs of those moments: Joyce, Jim and their kids

The school scene has so many hidden hints

This is why I don’t think they’re misdirects. Along with the big hints we’ve seen throughout the show, there are also many small things that we can only notice if we pay attention.

The hat of the boy behind Will is an Beatlejuice Easter egg. It looks like the hat of Winona Ryder’s character, Lydia. So this could mean: Will and El between Joyce and Hopper. The kids and their parents.

We see the same boy with Winona’s hat later (the boy under the arrow is important too, lol) and a girl with a school project about the Wright Bros. Yep. Will and El are the (W)right bros. But we already know that they’re siblings. El lives with the Byers. Nothing new. So why these hidden hints if it’s something we already know? Maybe because Will and El and Will are actual siblings.

The presentation scene is crazy.

Here “Joyce” and mini-Hopper in his cabin, mom and dad, but this time there’s also something more specific. A pic of the Tower Bridge on the wall that is paralleled to the two trees connected by a string in the diorama: twin imagery.

And the kid who looks at us with the school project about the father of microbiology.

Anton van Leeuwenhoek, the father of microbiology. One of his main discoveries: spermatozoa. But there’s more. The shirt of the kid behind Will. Maybe I’m delusional, but doesn’t it look like a DNA filament?

So, the (W)right Bros, DNA filaments, the father of microbiology who discovered spermatozoa, Hopper, “Joyce”, Will and El. We even get some Twelvegate crumbs, because it’s 11 o’clock, so the minute hand is on the 12.

I don’t think these are coincidences or things they put there just for fun. In fact, speaking of DNA filaments, there’s also this shot in S1. Joyce and El are talking about Will in a classroom with microscopes (twin imagery again) a DNA filament (biological mom?) and that tape that makes it look like Joyce is tied up... Possible hint that she was part of the program, too.

And later we actually see Joyce handcuffed and we get this disturbing shot, that could mean that Brenner did something during Joyce’s pregnancy. He interfered. And then he took her girl away from her.

Some thoughts

If all this is true, maybe Brenner chose this family because of Agent Orange. Or maybe part of Hopper’s story is true. After she had Jon with Lonnie and left him. Hopper wanted kids too, but didn’t tell Joyce about the risk of having children with him, and he contacted the wrong doctor to help them. A parallel with the Creels, only Hopper didn’t call Brenner because he wanted to get rid of his kids. Quite the opposite. But the result is the same. And Hopper, like Victor, feels cursed.

I just find it interesting that it’s always Hopper who makes deals with the lab and convinces Joyce to agree.

At the lab in S1, she yells at Brenner: You took my boy away from me! But I’ve always found it a bit weird. At least in this timeline, it’s the Demogorgon that took Will. So while I understand what Joyce means, it makes more sense if this is a clever reference to the timeline of the article at the end of the season, the one when Will was actually at the lab, or a hint that Brenner took her daughter away from her, not Will.

If the theory is correct, all these hints could be used in flashbacks in S5, to explain everything. And show that the truth was always there.

More hints because, why not? lol

A hidden hint at Will and Hopper connection at the end of S3 and S4

And after another mention of Chianti, Joyce and Hopper almost make out in Russia and then they’re twinning.

This post about MKUltra, Joyce and Terry

Also this post

This one about El and blonde sisters, or this one

March 22. Will’s birthday. Joyce says it twice. This could be a reference to Henry, who’s possessing Will in S2. But imo, it’s also about the other kid that was born on that day. El.

Twin imagery everywhere. I’m sure it’s also related to the Martin/Richard Brenner and Henry/Edward mystery. But Hopper, Joyce and their kids have been front and center from episode one. So this is about them too. It’s all connected.

And speaking of Russia and making out, lol.

At the beginning of S4, Joyce opens the doll that Murray says could be pregnant with an explosive device. A mom with her kids, a boy and a girl, stare at her, confused.

A few episodes later, Owens says this: ‘It’s a fancy bomb. We used to store them in these silos, but we haven’t used this one in years. In fact, there is no bomb here at all. So we repurposed it to hold something much more powerful than a missile. You.’ Oh, after jokes about working out of a shed.

So, Joyce has a doll that could be pregnant with a bomb but isn’t. And then we learn that one of the silos that were used to store bombs has been repurposed for El, who’s not a bomb but something more powerful.

Here the post

And the doll is actually “pregnant” with the proof that Hopper is alive.

Imo, the mention of pregnancy connects Joyce, Hopper and El. And the boy and the girl that stare at Joyce when she breaks the doll could mean that Joyce was pregnant with two powerful children.

#willel twins #will byers #el hopper #willel #joyce hopper #jim hopper #st theory #st parallels

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somewhere-on-knowhere · 8 months

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Random Starbula Headcanons

Nebula is super touch-starved and has a very sensitive body. Peter quickly gets into the habit of giving her shoulder rubs and casually caressing her arms and legs when they're sitting together.

Peter gets lost in Nebula's eyes frequently. Nebs loves the dopey, lovestruck expression he gets when this happens.

Peter confesses first despite Nebula having feelings for longer. When he does, she's floored because she assumed he would never reciprocate.

Nebula kisses him first however.

Peter is a tea drinker and Nebula is a coffee drinker.

For date nights, Peter and Nebula sometimes watch movies and shows from Peter's childhood. This leads to them binge-watching all of Cheers. They also end up watching its (better) spinoff, Frasier, which Peter can't believe even exists when he discovers it.

Nebula doesn't really do pet names but over time she begins calling him Star-Lord when she's being flirty (she continues to call him that when she's mad at him too though xD)

Peter isn't much of a pet name person either but that doesn't mean he never uses them. His favorite things to call her are "sweetheart", "hon/honey", and "blueberry". Nebula acts like she hates all of these but they actually make her feel so loved.

Nebula can paint pretty well (stealing this headcanon from the video game xD) and offers to teach Peter how to improve his art after seeing his doodle in Volume 3. Peter isn't that interested but you fucking bet that after learning about her talent he'd get her to draw him.

Nebula prefers dressing in a masc way but Peter helps her feel comfortable wearing more feminine clothes and dresses. He thinks she's hot no matter what she wears though.

Peter's grandpa likes to team up with Nebula to roast Peter. He pretends that it bugs him but is just happy that his girlfriend and his grandfather get along so well.

Mantis plays up the overprotective sister act around them sometimes (jokingly telling them to be home by curfew when they go on dates, threatening to murder Nebula if she hurts Peter, etc.)

The sound of Peter's laugh makes Nebula's knees go weak. Especially when she's the one who made him laugh.

Peter loves public displays of affection while Nebula is shy about them. I adore the idea of Peter being super affectionate to her in public and Nebula wants to maintain her stoic reputation so she gets flustered. Her automatic response is to say something bitchy when he does this but actually enjoys the affection and loves that Peter is so open to showing off that she's his girlfriend.

Nebula still bridal carries Peter sometimes. Only now it's not because he's wasted; it's just because he enjoys it and she's happy to do it.

#starbula #nebula #peter quill #guardians of the galaxy #headcanons #gotg3 #guardians of the galaxy volume 3 #quebula #peter x nebula

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bullet-prooflove · 3 days

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Choices - Cyrus Lupo x Reader

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @oureternalbond @@gia999 @darqchilddaydreamz @words-and-seeds @infinity-mars @malindacath @tkappi @greenies-green @trublu2u @thatcrimeshowchick

It’s late when Cyrus turns up at your door. He knows you’re up because he can hear the sounds of the TV. He raps his knuckles on the wood, a brief two knock before the locks slide across and sees your face peering at him through gap.

“Can I come in?” He asks and you sigh before opening the door and granting him entry.

“Sorry, it’s a mess.” You tell him, your hand rubbing over the back of your neck subconsciously.

You’re dressed in a pair of NYPD sweatpants and a jumper he recognises as one of his, from the time the two of you were together. Your hair is pulled back into a messy bun, stray tendrils escaping from the hair tie.

You aren’t doing well; he can see that. There’s half a bottle of red wine on the table alongside an empty glass. You drop back down on the couch, drawing your legs up underneath you, your eyes fixing on the TV. There’s a re-run of Frasier playing. He can tell you’re not really watching.

He knows what’s triggered you. It’s the polygamy case.

Michelle Landon’s decision to return to her sect with her unborn baby to trade her freedom for the sake of her children. You knew what Wyatt Landon was going to do to her and that you can’t do a damn thing to stop it.

You’d gotten close to Michelle, worked with her, soothed over her fears. It had been you that realised she was pregnant, who’d gone to Connie with the information, who had put her back in the hands of the man who had been raping her since she was sixteen.

It’s enough to fuck up anyone.

“Have you eaten?” He asks you as he strips off his suit jacket and hangs it on the back of one of your kitchen chairs.

“I’m not hungry.” You tell him.

“Ok then, I’ll just make something for you later and you can heat it up when you’re ready.” He says reaching inside the fridge and pulling out several items.

“You don’t need to do that.” You tell him quietly.

Cyrus sighs before rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.

“I want to.” He says as he sets a yellow pepper down on the chopping board. “This is what we do, we look after one another.”

“You’re not my boyfriend.” You remind him as you push yourself up from the couch. “Not anymore.”

“It doesn’t mean that I don’t care.” He tells you as you lean against the work surface alongside of him. He tilts his head towards you, his eyes meeting yours before he asks. “You wanna talk about what’s really bothering you?”

For a second you don’t say anything, you simply tip your head back and raise your eyes to the ceiling.

“I know what men like that do, the revenge he’ll take. He’ll punish her for running away and I just…”

You purse your lips together grimly as you shake your head.

“I understand why she did it, I just can’t make peace with my part in it.”

“You did everything right.” Cyrus says quietly. “You did everything you could to help Michelle, but she made her choice, probably the last one she’s ever going to be able to make.”

“That’s what I can’t reconcile with.” You tell him, your eyes stinging. “The last choice she made was to go with him and I…”

You press your fingertips to your forehead, rubbing at the crease between your eyebrows. He can see the tears glistening on your lashes before you wipe them away with the back of your hand.

“C’mere,” He murmurs, his arm wrapping around your shoulders and drawing you into the comforting shelter of his body. You bury your face into his chest stifling the sound of the first sob that tears from your throat. He feels it vibrate through your entire body as he clasps you close.

“I got you.” He whispers into your hair. “It’s ok, I’ve got you.”

Love Lupo? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#cyrus lupo #cyrus lupo x reader #cyrus lupo x you #lupo x reader #lupo x you #lupo #law and order #jeremy sisto

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araivallejo · 11 months

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I’ve only ever “shipped” characters in two programs I’ve watched. The first one was Niles and Daphne from Frasier, when I was a teen/young twenty something, and Ted and Rebecca from Ted Lasso.

These two pairings could not be more different. Niles was smitten from the start with Daphne, despite being married (!) with seemingly everyone clued in except Daphne herself for seven years (!!) until Frasier blurts it out to her. Only then does she start to view Niles as someone she might love. The Frasier writers had all the tropes on display for this one. Ah, the 90s.

Looking back now as a much older adult, I see glaring red flags in the Niles and Daphne pairing. The man was married, not once but twice, while claiming to be in lust/love with Daphne. Young me didn’t care though. I thought – romance! And when they ran off together, I was smitten. My one and only delve into fanfiction I wrote in 2000 when they both took off in the Winnebago. Oh my. With the benefit of hindsight, I wonder just how much I’d ship those two these days. Now if Frasier were to be remade the creators would have made the Niles character what he should have been all along, which is gay. The early 90s you just couldn’t do that, although the Frasier team loved to give a wink to it at times.

For Ted and Rebecca, I’ve mentioned before that I didn’t ship them in season 1 and most of season 2 at all. I thought this was simply a lovely friendship and that’s that. It was only the writers’ little bantr fakeout that clued me in on the possibility. I knew it wasn’t Ted, but it got me thinking when it was revealed to be Sam and I was disappointed it wasn’t Ted. Why was I disappointed? Then looking back at the earlier episodes and seeing all the ways they cared for one another and seemed to be clued in to each other. I thought – aha! This is the way to go about a real relationship. Show the friendship. Show the trust. Show each other at your best and your worst. It’s not a fantasy. I never minded that there were no obvious longing looks between the two because I saw all those signs the writers put into the show that kept pointing back (for me) to only one conclusion: Ted and Rebecca were meant to be together. The two obviously long for a romantic relationship and are deeply loving people. It wouldn’t be lazy writing! It would be brilliant to have it slowly evolve into a beautiful relationship built on friendship.

My only sticking point on the two getting together was the fact that at the end of the day, Rebecca was still Ted’s boss. Having grown up in the same region at the same time as Ted, I figured his midwestern values would deem that as unethical and therefore a deal breaker, no matter how deep the attraction was. I figured Ted would always choose his son and want to go back to Kansas, but I also concluded he would still need someone else in his life and not make Henry his sole reason to live. That’s too much of a burden on Henry. So if there were some way to have Ted be with Henry and Rebecca not be his boss… There have been some wonderful fics written to show how these two could still manage that feat. Both Ted and Rebecca are wealthy – with Rebecca shown to be “filthy” rich. Miss “I’ll just buy the restaurant” could make just about anything happen.

It all seems like a hell of a missed opportunity. I believe Jason was so enamored of the movie “Once” that he wanted to make his own version. That’s fine – it was his show. I just wish maybe they would have thought more about why they needed to do some of these little fakeouts. Having read some of the writers and editors’ responses this past week I have concluded that while some of this was purely accidental, the vast majority was absolutely intentional to keep the incredibly loyal and vocal fanbase (the shippers) coming back for more. They knew exactly what they were doing. I’m not naïve; I get that it is a product, and they need eyes viewing said product. But this show was a huge hit from day one when many of us didn’t give a damn about the pairing. Why go to these lengths?

What is hilarious to me is what we’ve been given instead of the well thought out relationship is the very definition of lazy writing: throwing Rebecca with some random man we’ve seen ONE TIME in the last season. We don’t even know his name. Yes, he is attractive and clearly Rebecca enjoyed being around this man. I even said after the ep aired that I wouldn’t mind it, but I was hoping there would be more buildup between the last time we saw him and now. And unlike above with Ted, boat man has not seen Rebecca at her worst, nor she his. It does not feel earned at all and that just pisses me off.

Don’t even get me started on Beard and Jane. Jesus that’s a topic for another post.

#ted lasso #tedbecca #working through my grief #i'm so tired #don't know if when i will ever watch the show again #except maybe season 1 - that was the shit #let's just say this show ended at season 1 #frasier #niles and daphne #i still love this pairing #rebecca welton

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shallowseeker · 8 months

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Harper repeats the demon's words, and Jack braces for the truth to sink in.

"Two," she says. "She said you were two. As in two years?"

Jack nods.

"You were born two years ago. In 2017."

"May 18th," he adds.

At first, she takes it like a champ.

Then, she starts muttering to herself, swimmy eyes bulging out of her head. (It makes her look like Theodore from Alvin and the Chipmunks.)

Her hand skitters to her elbow, where she starts picking at a scab. (It's the one she'd gotten from fighting the Cougar: mushy, not even healed enough for the scab to dry out.)

When her muttering gets louder, the cashier starts shooting them furtive, suspicious glances. If she's going to have another one of her meltdowns in the middle of Burger King, he'll have to drag her out to the parking lot.

And all he wants right now is a glorious Spicy Tendercrisp.

"...yesterday," she whispers.

"Yesterday?" he pushes, hoping that she'll snap out of it.

She turns to him, blossoming into a beautiful, too-bright smile that has several passers-by stopping to stare.

"I said, 'you're my Born Sexy Yesterday.'"

He blinks at her. When she says nothing, he waits for her to explain, as she often does to the point of overload.

"Gosh, Jack. Don't you read?"

He's told her time and time again that he's a 'TV guy,' so he just rolls his eyes and offers up a new spin on the truth, "I read lore."

She seems to ignore him.

"You're my Adam from Blast from the Past, Jack, or- or maybe my very own George of the Jungle. Except more clothes, of course."

"I haven't read either of those," he says.

"They're movies."

"Oh."

Now he feels dumb. They move up in line.

"Actually, I think this is a good thing for us," she says.

He hadn't been expecting that, but he's not about to push.

When they reach the register, she orders a Fish n' Crisp, and Jack finally secures the promise of Spicy Tendercrisp.

"I was worried, you know. The way you're so strong and how you handled those demons made me think there was this...big power imbalance between us. I mean, it was one thing to learn you're a Hunter, but an Angel? I thought I'd have to cut ties and run."

Jack doesn't bring up that she's already tried to leave him behind on three different occasions.

"But this? That you're so new to the world? I think it's a perfect equalizer between the two of us. You're way too strong for me, like, you could probably break me in half.” She seems excited when she says it. “But I can teach you things about how the normal world works. I'm like Alicia Silverstone!"

"Okay," he says. He cranes his neck and hopes that it's their order the worker is finishing up.

"And she doesn’t fall in love with Brendon Frasier because of his inexperience or childlike wonder or fear of the world around him. She loves him because he's kind to her and tries to be the better, more experienced man that she needs. I'm not gonna be your Humbert Humbert. Okay?"

"Okay," he agrees.

He doesn't know a single person she's naming in today's psycho-babble.

"I'm not afraid of your rejection. You can reject me, Jack. I don't mind. In fact, I- I'm expecting it."

When Jack looks at her again, her expression's changed. It's harder somehow, strange and a little aloof.

Their staring gets broken by the clatter of a tray, announcing the momentous arrival of Spicy Tendercrisp, Fish n' Crisp, and a side of extra fries.

Finally.

As Jack eagerly grabs the tray and ushers them down the aisle to a booth, he almost misses her next diatribe.

"Just, don't be my Vision," she says, faux-sadly. "I'd hate to become so grief-stricken that I become a dark witch, you know? That's a comic book. Surely you read those."

Jack doesn't point out that she's already a dark witch. It'd be like kicking someone who's already down.

#jack n harper road fic ideas #jack kline #practicing the vibes for this one again #harper sayles #hopeless romance #harper #harperjack

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doveabovetheworld · 1 year

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Greta Van Fleet as…

Holidays!!!

Josh;

We all know how bright and eye-catching Josh is so based off if that he is definitely New Years Eve (or pretty much anything with fireworks but New Years specifically). Josh is definitely the type of person to invite his whole family and his friends over on New Years and just party and get drunk with them. He’s such a loud and life living type of person I just think that he plans huge parties for New Years. He also thinks so positively about New Years thinking about how there is so much that he can do and that he can be around people he loves and cares about, including his fans. Josh is also the type of person to kiss you right when the ball drops and tell you how much he can’t wait to spend the new year with you. He would be cheering and running around the house hugging everyone letting them know how much he loves them. He would definitely take this holiday as a chance to give people presents (even though Christmas just passed but thats okay) and the chance for him to tell people how much he cares and loves them.

Jake;

Jake gives off huge Halloween vibes. He would love to buy bags and bags of candy to eat and hand out to kids around the neighborhood while he’s watching a horror or halloween themed movie like Hocus Pocus! I feel like his favorite halloween movie would probably be something like Corpse Bride or maybe even Friday the Thirteenth. Jake’s personality is very quiet but loud at the same time (if that makes sense?) and he is pretty chill which in my mind resonates with Halloween a lot. He also reminds me of black cats and he would love to do pumpkin carving one night sometime before Halloween. Jake is definitely one of those type of people to buy those fake skeletons and dress it up and put it on the porch of the house just to be funny. He also would want to dress up as a pirate (AKA Jack Sparrow), a knight, a cowboy, or even Oliver Reed! I feel like if you asked him to do a couples costume he’d say he wouldn’t really want to but says yes because he loves you but when you guys are actually getting the costume and dressing up, he’s super passionate about it and gets into character.

Sammy;

Sammy is super romantic and sweet which makes me think he’d be Valentines Day. When Valentines comes around, he would go all out with it like giving you silly gifts or taking you out to a super fancy restaurant and buying you your favorite treats! He would definitely add in some fun activities to do throughout the day and would spend so much money on you just because he thinks so highly of you. He is such a kind and loving person that you can’t help but smile because of him! He would take everything super serious on Valentines like he would have a whole day planned out just for you too. I think that he would attempt to make cookies or cupcakes or something like that and ultimately fail (almost burning down the house in the process) and he would go to the store and say he baked them himself but you know damn well he’s just trying to impress you but it’s still a cute act of kindness from him that you can’t help but smile.

Danny;

Danny is definitely Christmas. He is such a warm person so to be with him during winter and Christmas sounds so comforting. He would love to do all the things they do in the Hallmark Christmas romance movies (as well as binge watch them) and to be honest I would live for that cus that’s one of my guilty pleasures. But Danny would make you hot cocoa, take you ice skating, and play in the snow with him and whenever you get cold he would give you one of his warm sweaters. The way that he would buy ornaments that reminded him of you and tell you all about it as you two put them on the Frasier fir tree you have in your living room. The presents he would get you would be stuff like records you want, jewelry that has your guy’s initials, and even something as cute as a mini card he made just for you. The way he would be so proud and happy when you see the presents and light up is so unreal. He would honestly be the best person to spend Christmas with and no one can tell me otherwise.

Moodboards made by my bestie; @radyouthcherryblossom

#gvf #greta van fleet #josh kiszka #sammy kiszka #jake kiszka #danny wagner #gvf moodboard #gvf as holidays #gvf as

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rynekins · 4 months

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Welcome, friends, to the Sideshow Bob Awards! Recently I did a few polls about certain elements of Sideshow Bob episodes, and now I shall give some commentary over the results!

Why did I do this? Eh, funsies, but I’ll always look for an excuse to ramble about Sideshow Bob.

First up is the Award for Humor. Which Sideshow Bob episode is the funniest? Black Widower makes Honorable Mention. While an important episode with a lot of notable moments, I might not personally rank it amongst the funniest. Though Bob’s dry wit (as always) wins me over, and Bart explaining Bob’s plan to Homer, worthy of a chuckle.

This overall ranking, out of all of the polls, I agree with the most. Sideshow Bob’s Last Gleaming has some stellar Bob moments: Bob on helium, mimicking the Colonel, his pathetic attempt to kill Krusty, and who could possibly forget the Air Show Rant.

“Air Show? Buzzzzzz-cut Alabamians spewing colored smoke from their whiz jets to the strains of Rock You Like a Hurricane? What kind of country-fried rube’s still impressed by that?!” As for the Air Show Rant, I am also giving it the Award for Best Quote. Unfortunately, this poll did not have much engagement. I expected people to be shy, and I suppose I should have made it a normal poll for people to vote on instead of asking for more direct input, but there are simply too many good Bob quotes to narrow it down! How could I possibly? I had not the strength. His exasperation with his peers, mocking elitist tone, the venom, the sass, the hip swaying and crossing of his feet, going wall eyed and throwing his arms out cuz he always gotta be extra, if there is a perfect Sideshow Bob quote that exemplifies his character it would be this one.

Aside from that, mocking the military and garbage television, this episode offers a ton of laughs, worthy of at least Third place.

Brother From Another Series takes Second, and has a different brand of humor, but the kind that always gets me. It’s supposedly written like an episode of Frasier, which means the script is chock full of one liners from two guys too smart for their own good, constantly trying to one-up eachother. You wonder how both Bob and Cecil could ever end up in Springfield, an environment of pure dumbassery, and it clearly has had an effect on them (they must have drunk the water). Personal favorite moments are the boys with the slack-jawed locals, “especially Lisa, but ESPECIALLY Bart”, and “utterly hopeless”.

To no one’s surprise Cape Feare takes the crown. It often makes top 10 lists for its humor alone, and with good reason. This episode is packed with jokes, funny drawings, and goofiness, with running gags so memorable and powerful that they would get callbacks even 30 years later. The idiocy is at an all time high, both with Homer and Bob, which frankly is necessary to balance out the more sinister and rather tense scenes. Homer scaring Bart, the rakes, the drive through the cactus patch, The Rakes, “Hello Mr Thompson”, THE RAKES. This episode is iconic, and I completely understand why.

Next up we have the Award for Animation. For our Honorable Mention, we have Bob’s official debut, Krusty Gets Busted. I’m glad to see some love for season 1, when everything was experimental especially with the animation. The linework, expressions, poses, models, colors, everything seems off by today’s standards, but you can see the effort and love put into it. There’s something beautiful about how rough it looks because you know what a struggle it was to make it work. And it does work. But I’m biased toward things that are hand drawn.

In Third for this category, the award goes to Gone Boy, the complete opposite of Krusty Gets Busted. We have the modern era, the clean colors, the characters staying on model, a lot of the stiffness that a lot of people don’t care for. However, there are moments that feel like a return to form in this episode. My eyes lit up when I saw Bob’s face as he encountered Milhouse. Then the dance he does as he sings is song-o. The wintery environment, a few ambitious angles, some great character acting. It’s proof that newer episodes have their beauty too. I only wish that the hallucination sequences went harder. Imagine, if you will, they suddenly went Courage the Cowardly Dog mode on you and changed mediums, turned into something more experimental and maybe truly nightmarish. This episode was great, but it could have been legendary. I am grateful for the feast we got. In Second, Black Widower returns, which dare I say has been robbed. Yes, I think it should have been First. This episode is gorgeous, but as I have established, I liked the earlier, rougher animation.

Every single frame of Bob’s rant on MacGyver is absolutely wild, as is the skipping through the flowers. The colors in the night scenes. The glow from the explosion. There’s so much character here, so many expressions and extra motions with hands in scenes, even when no one is talking. The weight in Bob’s hair when he throws back his head for a maniacal laugh. What this episode’s got is flair. Once again, Cape Feare takes First. I can see why, because it is a very good looking episode. One of the best. Oh, how I wish the show still looked like this (the latest Treehouse Ei8ht made me crave what we have lost). But I must wonder if it might be taking the number one spot because of how memorable it is with other factors. No doubt it’s funny, with a lot of well done and imaginative scenes. Bob’s lil dance during his work out comes out of nowhere and is hysterical. You think for a minute that the episode is going to cheat you when the elephants are trampling him off-screen then it pans down to show you the exact moment one steps on and off his skull. The increasingly elaborate set and costume designs for Bob’s theatrical performance. There is a lot of artistry to appreciate here. It’s cinematic even. Then again, a lot of the cinematic moments can be attributed to its source material: the 1991 movie Cape Fear, some moments directly inspired. Not to say that all of the work was done for them, certainly not. They put their own spin on things.

Perhaps the placement is deserved. The shot that goes from Bart’s window, flying over all of Springfield, to Bob’s prison is particularly impressive. There’s a lot of juicy saturation and shifts in color reminiscent of shots from Krusty Gets Busted and Black Widower. It’s safe to assume that I’m drawn more towards character details, and little things like all the lower angles we get from Bob work well in conveying menace, as if we, the audience, are in danger

This concludes Part One of the Sideshow Bob Awards, In Part Two I will cover Best Song and Best Mystery. As for intermission, picture THE RAKES!!!

#sideshow bob #robert terwilliger #the simpsons

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twig-tea · 7 months

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Rules: List 10 of your comfort shows, then tag 10 people

I was tagged by @sorry-bonebag and @bengiyo (thank you both!). It's funny to see so many folks talk about not having 10, when I had trouble narrowing it down 🤣 So, here are shows I've reached for for comfort recently, in no particular order:

Until We Meet Again. Listen, I get that it's depressing, but it also ends and mends the intergenerational trauma set up in the first 15 minutes, and in the Dean/Pharm storyline the show queues up typical drama problems just for everything to be fine, it is SO comforting. And if I need to cry, ep1 part 1 will get me there, guaranteed.

Azumanga Daioh. This show...is so weird lol. It's a 20-year-old anime at an all-girls high school. There is a 10-year-old prodigy, a weirdo transfer student, a butch beauty, a simp, a loud class clown...it's not exactly GL because the girl who has a massive crush on her classmate never does anything about it and that's not really the plot. There is no actual plot, it's extremely slice-of-life except when it ventures into absurdity. It's extremely quiet and chill for this reason. The stakes are so low!

Star Trek: The Original Series. Like Ben, I am a Star Trek fan forever. TOS is my favourite and I've rewatched... a lot. Rather than the stakes being low, they're high but everyone is exceptionally competent and can solve impossible situations. And I really, deeply love the problem-of-the-week style storytelling and found family vibes.

What Did You Eat Yesterday? Everyone already knows this one, it's so good. Their relationship is so wonderful and the food is delicious and inspiring. In this show, things aren't perfect and that's ok, and I get deep comfort out of that.

HIStory 2: Crossing the Line. I love a sports anime, and this hits the key notes: you have to have love for the game and play with integrity and with your team in mind, and never give up on your dream. And this installation was pretty short, so easy to binge.

Our Dating Sim. This is recent but I've already decided to go back and rewatch this rather than start something new at least twice, so I'm counting it. Something about how these two settle into the friends to lovers dynamic is just delightful their familiarity and ease transfers to me through the screen.

Ingredients the series. Everyone calls this our pandemic comfort commercial for a reason. I have rewatched it a LOT. It is incredibly domestic and very chill, and once again full of good food. It helps that the episodes are so short so again, it's an easy binge.

Avatar: The Last Airbender (series). Another one that lands on multiple people's lists. This show is incredible and has such good character arcs. I will never get over how perfect the change in Zuko was handled. This one is partially comforting because of how long it's been in my life and how many times I've watched it, but also the found family vibes and the problem of the week format once again is very comforting to me.

Love Sick. I know. But it is the first BL I saw, and it stuck with me. I usually skip around the BL cut when I go back to this (which I still do). Pun and Noh spend a lot of time together in silence or with the OSTs playing, and do a lot of talking in body language and eye contact. Even though they're young and awkward and things are unresolved for so long, when they're together just the two of them this show (and their relationship) is easy and comforting.

60s Batman. There are several sitcoms that I would watch an episode or two if it's on (Frasier, the Nanny, Third Rock from the Sun, Golden Girls, Schitt's Creek), but the Adam West Batman is just... incredible. It is so silly. It is so earnest. It was ahead of its time. And once again, that problem of the week storytelling with incredibly competent characters is deeply comforting to me.

[Also shout-out to sorry-bonebag's Taskmaster mention because i have definitely rewatched it a bunch too!]

Tagging @italianpersonwithashippersheart @callipigio @my-rose-tinted-glasses @chickenstrangers @justafriend-ql @belladonna-and-the-sweetpeas @visualtaehyun @solitarywandering @thewayofsubtext @respectthepetty no pressure as always!

#tag game #thanks for the tag!#until we meet again #uwma #azumanga daioh #star trek #st: tos #what did you eat yesterday?#kinou nani tabeta #history 2: crossing the line #our dating sim #ingredients the series #ingredients #avatar: the last airbender #love sick the series #love sick #batman #batman 66

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