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justlemmeadoreyou · 3 days

Note

Can I request for an blurb?? Never requested to anyone but I have this idea!!

So like H nd reader is in a relationship but H being famous nd all so because of that media nd his fans doesn't know he is in relationship nd to hide that thing he had to do PR relationship with someone else!! Nd he doesn't acknowledge that he had being ignoring reader nd spending more time with that pr girl!! So one day H came home nd reader was crying nd saying to H "do you love me?? Nd saying please don't leave me" nd H assure her she is it nd in few months he proposed the reader by saying how she is the only girl for him nd to never doubt his love for her!!

Ahh so sorry for such a lengthy request!! Nd it's okay if you don't wanna write!!:)

words: 4k (sorry!!!)

warnings: angst, lots of it. a fake pr, crying, some smut too. happy ending.

i changed this a bit, especially the ending. hope you don't hate this!

***

"I miss you," you whispered into the dark emptiness of your bedroom, clutching Harry's pillow tight. Another restless night alone while he was off being pictured with that pretty model for their fake relationship.

When would this torment end? Your heart ached constantly from the secrecy and lies shredding your real romance with Harry. All you wanted was to be open about your love...

It had started off so blissfully a year ago when you literally crashed into Harry outside of a coffee shop. You'd been rushing out the door, distracted and clumsy as always, when you rammed straight into a solid wall of human. Your face went bright red as you scrambled to pick up your scattered belongings.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry! I'm such a disaster, I seriously need to watch where I'm going..." you babbled, finally looking up into the kindest pair of green eyes you'd ever seen.

The man was watching you with an amused tilt to his soft lips. Something about his tousled chestnut hair and casual style felt vaguely familiar, though you couldn't quite place him.

"No worries at all, it's my fault. Are you alright?" He asked in a deep, sumptuous voice that made you shiver.

As realization dawned, your mortified expression deepened. "Oh wow...you're...I just headbutted Harry Styles in the stomach."

He laughed easily, dimples flashing as he bent to help gather your dropped papers. "Very impressive ab attack there. Been taking self-defense classes?"

You flushed again at his playful teasing, finding yourself surprisingly flustered by this international superstar's carefree charm. Most celebrities seemed to carry an air of inflated ego, but Harry radiated a humble warmth.

"Do you, er, come to this cafe often?" He asked curiously as you both stood. "I don't think I've seen you around before."

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear shyly, you shook your head. "No, I don't. I was just stopping in for a coffee on my way to work."

"I see." His gem-green eyes slowly traced over your features, as if admiring a fine work of art. The intensity of his gaze sent a tendril of heated awareness washing through you.

Before you could think better of it, you blurted out the first thing on your mind. "Would you...maybe want to get coffee? With me, I mean? Right now?"

Harry's full lips curved in an amused smile. "I'd love that, actually."

You could scarcely believe this was reality as you led him back inside the cafe, trying not to visibly swoon at the casual brush of his fingertips against the small of your back. For the next hour you talked and laughed more freely than you had in ages, feeling utterly intoxicated by Harry's mere presence. Everything about him radiated authenticity and vulnerability, a creative wildness simmering beneath his polished exterior. You felt like you could be yourself with him instead of carefully cultivating persona upon persona as you did with most people.

By the time you forced yourself to reluctantly leave for work, exchanging numbers with Harry, you were positively giddy. Dancing through your day in a euphoric bubble, you hardly noticed the pitying looks from coworkers.

"You know he's just gonna ghost you, right?" Julie the receptionist said flatly when you told her about your morning coffee date. "Have you seen how many girls fall all over themselves trying to get Harry Styles' attention? You're out of your league, sweetie."

You frowned at her harsh dose of reality. As if you weren't well aware of your lack of impressiveness compared to supermodels and actresses in Harry's orbit. Still, you couldn't shake the magnetic connection you'd felt with him, the bone-deep certainty that he was someone truly special.

Much to everyone's shock, Harry didn't ghost you. In fact, a simple text from him that evening asking how your day was led to a rapid-fire exchange of messages stretching long into the night. Over the next few weeks, your life revolved around hushed phone calls, secret rendezvous at out-of-the-way cafes and restaurants, and marathon conversations revealing every layer of one another.

Harry was purely intoxicating - a whirlwind of brooding intensity balanced with vivid spontaneity and an excellent sense of humor. He seemed utterly fascinated by every small detail you revealed about your life, respectful in a way that made him feel like a wonderful dream. And you fell harder and harder for Harry with each passing day. Something about his quiet attentiveness and insatiable curiosity about you made you feel cherished in a way you'd never experienced before. Gone were the shallow, vapid interactions you were accustomed to in the dating world. With Harry, you could truly be yourself - he somehow coaxed out your authentic self that you typically kept heavily guarded.

At the same time, you were in absolute awe of the whirlwind of depth and experiences that defined Harry's life. His stories of touring the globe, writing deeply personal lyrics, collaborating with musical icons - they all painted a vivid portrait of an artistic soul soaring to brilliant creative heights. You drank in every glimpse into his inner world like a lifeline to another realm of existence.

Yet whenever you'd express feeling unworthy of his profound love and admiration, Harry was quick to sweetly rebuff you.

"Y/N, you dazzle me more than anything I've experienced in this mad career of mine," he insisted one evening over a cozy home-cooked meal you'd prepared. Catching your hand across the table, his green gaze pinned you in place. "Don't you see? Your warmth, your light, your way of finding detailed beauty in such seemingly ordinary moments - that's what enchants me. You make me want to shed all the superficial trappings of fame and just...be."

You felt yourself falling deeper and deeper, tumbling into an intimacy more profound than you'd ever imagined. If Harry hadn't told you himself that he'd only had a few relatively tame celebrity girlfriends in the past, you'd never have believed his immense experience from the way he worshiped you.

"So responsive, so gorgeous," he rasped against your swollen lips, calloused fingers stroking delirious patterns over your sensitized skin. "God, I could spend eternity between your legs”

Those stolen passionate encounters, tangled up and gasping one another's names with wild abandon, only added to your lovestruck infatuation. You felt deeply seen and cherished on a soul level, like you were both puzzle pieces finally slotting seamlessly together.

In the dreamy, lust-addled haze of new love, you almost didn't notice the growing tension in Harry's manner as typical relationship pressures began encroaching. Paparazzi grew increasingly aggressive in tracking his day-to-day movements whenever out in public. Well-meaning friends expressed concerns about the obvious strain he was under from lack of a romantic life in the public eye. And perhaps most troubling, his management team forcefully "suggested" it was time for him to embark on a high-profile PR romance to capitalize on album promotion and touring.

Harry had looked utterly fed up that evening when he broke the news, pacing in your living room.

You watched him apprehensively. "They want you to do...what? You mean...go along with a staged relationship? Like have a beard or something?"

"No! Absolutely not, I won't do it. I won't treat you like some secret, and I refuse to fake anything in my private life for publicity."

"Harry..." you tried to soothe him, rising to your feet and rubbing his tense shoulders. "I understand the pressures you're under-"

"No, you don't!" He rounded on you with surprising intensity. "You don't get it, Y/N. You are the best, most precious thing in my world - my safe harbor from all the bullshit fake expectations. I won't sully what we have with PR lies. I just...won't."

His words were at once incredibly romantic and terribly naive. As much as you longed to stay cocooned in the warm, intimate bubble of your relationship, you knew the real world would inevitably intrude. Harry was a public figure on a massive scale, his romantic life constantly scrutinized. For the sake of his livelihood, he might not have any choice but to bend to the publicity machine's demands.

***

Those first seeds of conflict only blossomed further over the following weeks as the PR relationship issue remained unresolved. You did your best to stay supportive and understanding, but it was a challenge keeping your own hurt and insecurities at bay.

"I just don't see what the big deal is," Harry groused one evening over a tense dinner. "So what if they want me to go out a few times with some model or actress, let the paps get pictures? It doesn't mean anything to me."

You poked at your food sullenly. "It's not that simple though, is it? Couldn't something like that, even if fake, seriously complicate things for us?"

He reached across to squeeze your hand. "Baby, you know you're the only person who matters to me. A little PR sham doesn't change how utterly mad I am about you."

But it did change things, whether Harry wanted to admit it or not. The striking difference in how he treated you, his real partner behind closed doors, compared to how he'd have to pretend with someone else for public consumption - it stung deep.

One night shortly after, you were cuddled up watching a movie when Harry's phone started incessantly buzzing. Pulling it out with a furrow in his brow, he quickly scanned a series of messages and emailed photos. An unmistakable look of chagrin crossed his face.

"What is it?" You asked, unable to ignore the sinking feeling in your gut.

Harry sighed, shoulders slumping. "Looks like the publicity team is really pushing ahead. They've, uh, they've arranged for me to be caught having dinner with Kendall Jenner tomorrow night."

Your heart plummeted as an uneasy feeling settled over you. This was really happening - right before your eyes, your private intimacy was being infiltrated with PR lies.

"So you're...going to be going out with her? In public, on a fake date, while the whole world watches?" You tried and failed to keep the hurt out of your voice.

"Not a date!" Harry was quick to insist, shifting closer to pull you into his arms. "Y/N, you have to understand this doesn't mean anything. It's all just smoke and mirrors, love. You're my world, I promise."

You wanted so desperately to believe him. But the lingering ache still took root somewhere deep inside as you watched the paparazzi frenzy ignite over Harry's "outing" with Kendall. Photos of the two models laughing intimately over drinks and dinner plastered every gossip rag and website for weeks.

It soon became a narrative that followed Harry everywhere - probing reporters shouting questions about whether he and Kendall were officially an item now. Rabid fans prying him online, trying to get every new shred of detail on the new, perfect couple.

"Hey, come here," Harry murmured soothingly whenever he saw the sadness and uncertainty cloud your eyes. He'd pull you into his chest, peppering kisses over your face. "I'm yours, baby, only yours. None of that bloody circus matters to me, I hope you know that."

You wanted to have his quiet confidence, truly. The way Harry could compartmentalize the fake PR relationship and his very real feelings for you with such clear separation. But it didn't stop the anxiety slowly gnawing away at your trust and security.

Increasingly, special romantic gestures from Harry felt like overcompensation for all the public affection he was faking with Kendall. When he'd surprise you with extravagant getaways to exotic locales, you couldn't fully relax into the pampering without wondering how much of it was just hiding guilt. And his constant reaffirmations of his love and devotion started ringing hollow amidst the growing circus his life was becoming.

The worst of it came at one of his first concerts after the publicity whirlwind began. You'd been so looking forward to experiencing the screaming crowds in a whole new light as Harry's actual partner, not just a casual fan. But the huge video screens kept flashing candid photos and fake couple shots of Harry holding hands and hugging Kendall, selling their phony romance to the fans.

You couldn't hold back the tears slipping down your cheeks as Harry serenaded the arena full of thousands, having no choice but to play along with the charade on the world stage. He caught your eye for just a second during the encore, and his smile instantly morphed into a look of sheer sorrow and guilt, looking at your tear-ridden face. He knew you, even if he stood so much away from you. But there was nothing he could do then except push forward with the manufactured story.

That night after the concert, an emotional Harry fell into your arms the moment you were alone in his dressing room. He clung to you desperately, peppering apologies across your tear-stained and defeated face.

"God, Y/N, I'm so sorry," he rasped, emerald eyes awash with remorse and frustration. "Seeing you hurting like that because of this bloody sham...it killed me. You have to know how madly in love I am with only you."

You nodded, finding it hard to speak past the lump in your throat. Of course you knew, deep down, that Harry loved you wholly. His attentiveness, the intense spark of intimacy and passion between you, the emotional connection - it was all achingly real. This PR relationship was merely a toxic byproduct of his celebrity, something massively unfortunate but not defining your actual bond.

And yet...Harry couldn't deny the growing chaos enveloping his personal life. The fake romance was now Priority One to his team, staged and milked for every ounce of publicity. Constant video calls and strategy sessions mapped out each calculated move - where Harry and Kendall would stage a coffee run for the paps, when they should be papped holding hands emerging from a nightclub, how often they should update their couple-y Instagram shots together.

Harry grew increasingly sullen and withdrawn the more deeply engrossed he became in maintaining the facade. And you couldn't ignore the mounting jealousy and hurt rapidly corroding, chipping away your self-esteem and faith in the relationship.

***

"Maybe...maybe we should take a break," you finally broached one afternoon after an especially grueling set of publicity demands. Harry's head whipped up from where he was moodily going over plans for an upcoming awards show appearance.

"What? Why would you say that?" There was an edge of panic in his tone. He looked shocked, but you knew it was a long time coming.

You shrugged. "Harry, can you honestly tell me you don't resent me at all for the toll this whole – charade has taken? That some part of you doesn't wish you could just live your life freely without me holding you back from giving publicity stunts like this your full effort?"

He immediately rushed to gather you into his arms. "No! Never, Y/N. You're my world, my everything. Without you, all this would mean nothing!”

Burying your face into the strength of his shoulder, you wished you could cling to his words and find comfort there once more. But the turmoil swirling around you was rapidly becoming too overpowering.

"I'm just...I'm so tired of feeling like an afterthought, Harry. Of being the dirty little secret you have to hide away while flaunting someone else to the world. I can't keep living like this, sinking into doubt and jealousy constantly."

Harry's arms tightened around you convulsively. "Don't say that, my love. You could never be an afterthought to me. I need you here, by my side, to keep me grounded and remind me of what's truly real."

Though his words warmed your heart, you found yourself pulling back to gaze at him searchingly. "Then prove it. Enough with the grand romantic gestures, the desperate promises. I need you to actually fight for me, for us, instead of just going along with everything. Either that, or–” the lump in your throat deepend, “ –you can let me go”

Harry was taken aback by your words. But still, there was a part of him that didn;t fully understand what you were going through. "You know it's not that simple, Y/N. One wrong move that tanks this publicity team's plans and my entire career could crater."

"So what?" you challenged, tilting your chin defiantly. Harry wasn't the only one being forced to make impossible choices. "Is the career really more important than your actual life, your happiness in a real relationship? Because I love you with everything, but I can't keep sacrificing my sense of self-worth and spinning out into reckless jealousy every waking moment just so you can have the best of both worlds."

"I...you have to understand, none of this publicity shite actually matters to me. Not really. It's all a smokescreen that will fade away eventually. But you, us - this love is my truth, my be all and end all. Don't give up on me, baby. I'll fix this, I swear it."

You wanted so badly to believe the desperation in Harry's voice. But the ache of sadness and insecurity had burrowed too deeply. What once would have swept you up in romantic adulation now just hollowed you out further.

"I really hope you can, Harry," you rasped, pulling away with immense reluctance. "Because I can't keep holding my breath waiting for the other shoe to drop much longer. This half-life just isn't enough anymore.I can't, Harry.I can't keep living like this."

Harry looked hurt now. He knew it was only a while before it all came shattering down, but the thought of Y/N walking away felt like a shard of glass lodged in his heart.

"From this moment on, things change," he rasped. "No more bowing to bloody publicists and image managers. My truth, our bond, comes before anything else. You're about to become my permanent bloody shadow, love."

A smile curved your lips at his words. Reaching up to trace the sharp edge of his chiseled jaw, you felt a wave of relief and renewed hope. "Well, I do make a devilishly charming shadow, if I say so myself."

Harry's gaze drank you in like a man rewarded with an infinite oasis after years of directionless wandering. "That you do, baby. No more hiding that radiant light of yours, yeah? "

He sealed the vow with a kiss that seared straight through to your bones. You clung to him, every brush of his hands and velvet tongue rekindling the deepest intimacy between you two.

When you finally pulled apart, chasing oxygen, Harry made an immediate move to sweep you up into his arms like a blushing bride. "Come on, love. Let's go remind the world of who they're dealing with, shall we?"

You looped your arms around his neck with a giddy laugh as he strode through the penthouse with you cradled protectively to his chest. Despite his determination, his hold was soft, cherishing. Like you were something infinitely precious to be handled with utmost care, or you would break.

Without explanation, Harry marched you both out and down to where a sleek black car was out front, the doorman quickly ushering you inside the backseat. Once the privacy partition rolled up, Harry immediately turned to you.

"I mean it, every word," he stated plainly. "No more deceptions or hiding our connection. From here it's full transparency and only the truth."

you felt overcome by tenderness and awe. "So...does that mean an end to the fake relationship with Kendall then?"

"Among other things," Harry confirmed without hesitation. To your surprise, he reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone and thumbed it open to the camera app, situating you both in the frame. "We're going to document and share every moment of us, the real us. Let my supporters and fans see who truly holds my heart before all others."

You blinked in astonishment as he looped an arm around your waist, pulling your bodies flush as the camera captured. Was this really happening? After all your heartbreak and insecurity brought on by that disastrous PR relationship, was Harry truly throwing it all to the wind?

That was clearly his intention as he leaned in to nuzzle your cheek dotingly, snapping pic after sweet pic of shameless embraces and intimate caresses being exchanged between you. Each time the shutter clicked he murmured loving adorations, his focus immovable.

"Gorgeous girl...my forever woman...heart and soul of my entire world..."

You blinked back tears. When was the last time you'd felt this elevated by Harry's worshiping? Your shaky exhales intermingled hotly as he maneuvered you fully into his lap, slanting his mouth hungrily across yours.

"My everything," he growled against your lips before kissing you breathless.

"Harry..." you finally managed to gasp out as you pulled apart, "what are you doing? If you post those shots, then-"

"Then the whole world will know I'm mad for you, and only you," he said, with nothing but seriousness and devotion in his voice, "No more closeting my actual partner away like a mistress to be hidden from disapproving eyes. You're the only romantic relationship fully grounded in truth that the world needs to be focused on."

You shivered at the assurance in his tone. This was really it - the definitive line in the sand. And with Harry looking at you the way he was, you couldn't find it in yourself to argue or question further. You simply melted into his heat, losing yourself in the incredible feeling of being staked as his claim.

With a few taps, Harry posted the first of intimate photos and captions that set the internet instantly ablaze. Breathy confessions of forever love intermingled with searing makeout shots - it was a rush of letting go of months of pent-up passion and adoration for the world to finally bear witness.

All the while, Harry refused to tear his stare from worshiping every inch of your body. His broad palms trailing over the exposed curves of your hips, waist, the swell of your breasts - anchoring you fully into the present.

Your social media was immediately swamped by a plethora of comments, tags and speculation over the tsunami wave of intimate reveals. Harry's fanbase seemed to have divided between celebration and outrage over their beloved idol being so thoroughly claimed by an average nobody.

More jarring, however, was the media/PR teams' explosive reactions. Both your phones blew up with frantic calls and enraged messages demanding explanations and emergency meetings. As expected, the team working to orchestrate Harry's fake relationship with Kendall were melting down over the sheer negligence of you both, and damage control now being initiated.

For a long while, you both simply ignored it, too immersed in devouring the rebirth of your connection to spare any attention elsewhere. You reveled in being subjected to Harry's fervent, undivided worshipping as his fingertips and lips swept across every velvet hollow and slope. His sensual assault was purposefully overwhelming, etching his permanent claim over your quivering form.

"They'll keep the noise up for a while, try spreading all sorts of misinformation and manipulation to regain control of the narrative," Harry finally mumbled without breaking the rhythm of stripping you bare and lavishing undivided attention over each exposed new expanse of satin flesh.

You shivered beneath him, and he tilted your chin up with a knuckle to capture your gaze, "But none of that shite matters now, okay? All that matters is that I’m all yours now. Only yours.:

And you were never letting him go.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

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ladylannisterxo · 2 days

Text

... the one where spence takes an interest

Pairings; Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Words; 0.6k

Warnings; one use of Y/N but this was written back before I stopped using it lol but other than that, none, just fluff!

Summary; {requested} "Not to pester you, I had this thought and wanted to share is all, but could you imagine talking to Spencer about something you're really excited about (like a movie/tv show/game or something) and the next day he starts talking to you in length about it, and it turns out he went home that night and read/watched everything he could on the subject."

A/N; goodness, I wrote this years ago on another blog and since I've been rewatching Criminal Minds, I figured I'd go ahead and post it again (cause why not?)... the one and only thing I ever wrote for Dr. Spencer Reid ajdhsakdshak

{ masterlist }

You didn't plan this. Really, you didn't. But you know how it goes when you start binging a new tv series: just one more episode... and then before you know it, it's 2:00am.

Now you're sitting in the bullpen. It's 8:00am and you're constantly rubbing at your tired eyes and chugging coffee like your life depends on it.

And Spencer is wearing a curious expression, already extrapolating possibilities as to what could have kept you awake last night.

But he doesn't mention it. Not when the team is discussing the new case, not even on the jet en route to your destination. He waits until it's just you and him, paired off to go talk to the medical examiner about the latest victim.

"Are you okay?"

"Hmm? Oh yeah, just a little tired."

He smiles warmly, offering you an amused glance before fixing his eyes back on the road. "I gathered. What kept you up?"

"You know, I just..."

But then you realize you don't want to tell him, not really. To you, staying up super late to watch a tv show seems embarrassing when compared to how he most likely spent his night.

You imagine that he read around six books, most of which were probably in a language you didn't understand. Or maybe he called his mom to check in with her. Or maybe he had nightmares himself and so he thinks that's exactly what happened with you...

Any scenario you think of infinitely sounds better than oh, you know, I just stayed up super late watching some trashy guilty pleasure tv show because I have no self control.

"Nothing really," you settle on, "it's dumb."

"Try me."

So you cave, mostly because you're too tired to fight. He listens intently as you tell him about the new show you found, how it's completely ridiculous but it allows you to step out of your life for a bit and relax.

He doesn't say much, just nods along as you talk and before you know it, you've arrived at your destination and it's back to work.

Spencer actually doesn't mention your conversation again for the remainder of the case and finally, the unsub is in custody and the team is back home to enjoy a nice, long weekend.

You don't see or hear from Spencer during this time but first thing Monday morning, he's greeting you as you step off the elevator with a cup of coffee and a bright smile.

... and then he tells you he spent the weekend watching the first season of the show you mentioned and to his surprise, he really enjoyed it.

To say you're confused is an understatement but you listen as he discusses every character and what he thinks of the current story arc.

"Spencer," you laugh, resting your hand on his arm and halting his speech. "Not that I'm not thrilled to talk about this but I really wasn't expecting you to go home and watch an entire season of a show just because I mentioned it."

He smiles sheepishly, eyes lingering on where your hand still rests on his arm.

"You were really excited about it though."

"And?"

"And it seemed important to you... so it's important to me."

A smile pulls itself across your face and you open your mouth to respond when you're both interrupted by Garcia letting you know there's another case.

"Hold that thought," you inquire.

"It's impossible for me to forget it."

And just like that, you're discussing trashy tv with Dr. Spencer Reid during any downtime that you're granted. You gush about your favorite character and he theorizes future story arcs while simultaneously pointing out behavioral inaccuracies.

"People do not speak like that in that kind of situation, Y/N."

"It's tv, Spence, it's supposed to be unrealistic. That's what makes it fun."

+ Bonus: if it's a series that is currently airing, you both come into the office the next morning and excitedly discuss every single thing that happened and then theorize on what could possibly happen next.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #writing by 's'

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blogthebooklover · 2 days

Text

I'll Never See Him Again (Mae)

Author's Note: Here's the one from Mae's perspective, once again inspired by Disney's Pocahontas. This is also available on Wattpad. I've included three human OCs for this one shot! I also snuck two familiar names from Supernatural, however, it is not the beloved characters exactly lol. This is also my first time writing a character who is nonbinary/genderfluid/androgynous; and the character uses they/them pronouns. I did my absolute best to be as respectful as I could. I also apologize in advance if there is any indication of negative stereotypes, because that was not the intention.

They took him. Her human companions took Noa. All because he wanted to see her again. Mae dropped to her knees and buried her face in her hands. She was only trying to help rebuild the human race, under the direction of her leader. On her mission, the only ones to show any sort of empathy and compassion to her, were the evolved orangutan and chimpanzee. So soon after the deaths of her team.

Her affiliation and alliance with them during that time, created the beginning of a conflict within herself. The girl raised a hand to her neck, and pulled out the medallion of Caesar. The last connection to Raka as well.

It was Noa’s gift to her to reflect on their time and her grief.

And it was the first one that wasn’t given to her by her parents or friends.

She felt tears stream down her cheeks as she clasped the medallion in her hands. Mae did not consider herself to be spiritual or religious, she remembered her history lessons about the past 200-300 years and before. How humans always had conflicts regarding religion and science. However, whomever this Caesar was to the apes, she prayed silently to him. She went down on her knees, still clasping the necklace in her hand. The young woman prayed for Noa’s safety.

Her silent prayer was interrupted by the sounds of footsteps coming down the hall. It was a former classmate of hers, from her history lessons as a child. That’s right, they went by Gem now and presented as androgynous. “Mae,” they said, crouching down to the girl’s level, “are you all right?”

“No, I’m not,” the girl replied, “they took my…my friend.”

“That monkey?”

“He’s an ape, not a monkey.”

“Sorry,” Gem muttered, “is he…the one you mentioned on your journey above?”

Mae nodded, sucking in her lips to keep from crying again, “All this happened because he helped me, and I…I almost killed him…Twice. And now…I don’t know what our commanding officers will do to him. Either keep him for experiments or kill him.” “He was already outside the bunker, Mae,” Gem explained calmly, placing their hand on Mae’s shoulder, “he had a weapon on him.”

“Merely for protection,” Mae argued, “I’ve seen it for myself.” Gem bit the inside of their cheek, thinking about the next thing to say.

“Forgive me, but were you praying just now?” they raised an eyebrow toward her. Mae decided she couldn’t lie anymore and nodded her head in response. “I don’t recall you being the religious type.” Mae felt a small smile tug at the corners of her lips, but it didn’t reach her eyes, “Perhaps I did so for my friend’s sake.”

Gem’s head shot up quickly, they had an idea. “C’mon, I know what to do.”

X.X.X.X.X.X.

An hour later, Gem and Mae walked down the hallway deep inside the bunker. The two came upon a laboratory the scientists and doctors used for research, as well as an infirmary. Two guards, who were also former classmates from Mae’s history lessons, stood watch over the entrance of the lab. Gem greeted the two, giving each a nod, “Dean, Sam.” The two returned the greeting.

“Mae wishes to speak to the prisoner,” Gem explained sternly, maintaining strong eye contact with their former classmates. “On what grounds?” Dean asked, placing his hands on his hips. Mae bit her lip, thinking up any lie she could to get into the lab to see Noa. Then it hit her, “I have some questions for him.”

“The general already interrogated the prisoner,” explained Sam, reciting it like he had memorized the words from a textbook. Gem and Mae exchanged a quick glance with each other. “He sent me to conduct further questions,” Mae lied, sensing the subtle change in the atmosphere. She secretly hoped the two guards bought the lie.

It was Dean who caved in, “Be quick, they might return at any moment.” He turned around and punched in the key code for the door.

He stepped to the side to let Mae through. The young woman glanced over her shoulder to Gem, offering them a small smile in thanks. Gem returned it in kind. Mae inhaled a deep breath, and stepped through the door.

X.X.X.X.X.X.

Mae walked into the lab and glanced around for any sign of Noa. It was dimly lit and there was the low hum of the computers. Her blue eyes widened slightly when she eventually found him.

They placed Noa in a cage.

His back was turned to her, he was hunched over and she could see he was hugging himself tightly. Mae walked slowly over to the young ape, when she was in front of the cage, she crouched down to his level. She reached out her hand slowly to him, debating on whether to touch his shoulder. Regardless of his cognitive abilities being so close to humans, he was still an animal.

And just like humans, animals did not belong in cages.

She lowered her hand and called out softly to him, “Noa?” The young ape perked up at the sound of her voice, and glanced over his shoulder. When he saw it was her, he turned around fully to face her. Noa locked his golden jade eyes with her own sky blue ones. It was the same expression he had given her, when her human companions took him away. It was also the same one he had that day, when she aimed her pistol at Proximus Caesar. A silent plea.

“Mae,” he whispered, reaching his hand through the bars. She took hold of it with both of hers. The young woman noticed how huge just his one hand was between her own. She felt tears well up again in her eyes. The ape took notice of her tears, reaching up his free hand and softly brushing his knuckles against her cheek to wipe them away. He cupped her face with that same hand and she leaned into it.

There was only one thing that was on her mind.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

“For what?”

“For getting you placed here. For lying to you. For…for almost killing you and your clan.”

Noa’s eyes widened slightly at this, this time she was sure he could read the sincere truth in her eyes. “Mae…” he couldn’t find the words to respond to her. However, there was one way. The hand cradling her cheek gently pulled her closer, as best as he could from the bars, he placed his forehead against hers. She breathed a shuddering exhale against his lips. She felt the emblem of Caesar brush against his chest.

The young chimp inhaled through his nostrils, she briefly wondered if he had picked up her scent. “I am sorry, too,” Noa whispered, “I should not…have come here. But I am glad…I did.” Mae pulled back slightly to look at him, biting her lower lip, debating on what to say next to him. “Maybe…it would’ve been better if we never met,” she said , choosing her words as carefully as she could. However, she doubted the chimpanzee in front of her believed her words. He was too intelligent for that, briefly recalling their conversation in Trevethan’s room, and what was supposed to be their farewell outside of his village.

“I do not regret it,” Noa breathed against her lips, “I see you…as my friend.”

Mae felt more tears well in her eyes, she felt Noa’s thumb gently stroking her cheek, brushing away the ones that fell. In the distance, she heard the door to the lab open and Gem calling out, “Mae, we have to go.”

The young woman sighed sadly, nodding her head so slowly it was hard to tell. Noa noticed it, though. “You must go,” he whispered, letting go of her face, “your clan is coming.” Mae locked eyes with the male chimp once more, “Noa…” “You will always be my friend,” he whispered, she noticed there were tears welling in his golden jade eyes. He took a gentle hold of the medallion between them, “Important.” She let her tears fall like the last time he said that word.

She stood up, the move forcing Noa to release the necklace, she still had a hold on to his large hand. She briefly glanced down at their entwined hands, noticing how small hers was compared to the chimpanzee’s. The young woman reluctantly let go of the ape’s hand, which was still in the air reaching out to her. Mae turned away slowly, walking toward the door to the hall.

When the door shut behind her, she could hear Noa release a feral screech of pain and sadness. She could also hear the banging of the bars, she darkly imagined he was throwing his whole body at them. Mae rolled her fingers into fists, clenching so tight her knuckles turned white, to keep from releasing more tears again.

#kingdom of the planet of the apes #planet of the apes #pota fanfic #pota #mae x noa #noa x mae #otp: together strong #mae #noa #fanfiction #my writing #disney #pocahontas

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ikroah · 14 hours

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I pushed my soul in a deep dark hole, and then I followed it in, I watched myself crawling out as I was a-crawling in. I got up so tight, I couldn't unwind, I saw so much, I broke my mind… —“Just Dropped In (to See What Condition My Condition Was In),” The First Edition (1968)

It Keeps Right On A-Hurtin’ #28 - Ring-a-Ding-Ding VII

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Notes / Transcript:

Notes

Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to type those words? "End of Volume 2?" We have been on Volume 2 for just over three years. Obviously it's unfair to compare it to the breakneck pace of Volume 1, because... I got burned out (I got better), I got divorced (I got better), and most importantly, I've spent all three of these years overhauling my approach to art, which is to say, I got better. My canvas size doubled because my initial naive approach of "smaller pages means less art, which means faster art" was holding me back: I wanted more art, and the subjects of too many panels had gotten flubbed due to what was basically a pathetically low rendering distance. I revamped my approach to coloring entirely, leaning into a vibrant, saturated, and faux-comic halftone style that I vastly prefer to my more grounded, gradient-driven work beforehand. I changed IKROAH's font (Unmasked!), I changed Agnes's appearance slightly (she's far less gaunt, which was an early design choice I've thrown away, plus I think I'm much better at drawing her consistently now), and so much more. Comics are a time-consuming artform and while a lot of what made this volume take so long was out of my control, and well worth not pushing myself through, the total reinvention of how I actually make comics was the single best thing to come out of Volume 2.

It's a lot of lessons and groundwork that I'm very eager to take into Volume 3, which I have spent every single one of these years viciously impatient for. Now, it's finally here. See you at the cover reveal.

Original Pencils

Something that I have been working a lot harder on with my art lately is inking: actual inking, not merely "outlining" and figuring out the rest by the seat of my pants digitally. I've come to realize that the fewer steps of my production process that I try to do digitally, the more fun it is to make art as a whole, and inking was something that I was very intimidated by for the longest time. What happens if I mess up! It's permanent marker, after all! But after all the practice that I've done, I'm really happy with how bold and confident the shadows are on this issue, and they're perfect for how moody and dramatically lit the whole thing is. You can compare the pencils to the inks to the final products and really see how I planned out the overall composition.

Transcript

INT. LUCKY 38 PRESIDENTIAL SUITE, VERY LATE AT NIGHT. The lights are all off in this luxurious, distinctly pre-war abode. It is almost empty.

RADIO: Welcome back to the program, folks. This is Mr. New Vegas—and I hope I'm not coming on too strong. We've got some news for you, coming right up.

The only real light in the suite comes from the glowing screen of the Securitron VICTOR, standing in front of the private elevator.

RADIO: Tops Hotel owner Benny has been killed by an unidentified assailant. According to his fellow Chairmen, shots were heard in his private suite, and his body was found inside. They are urging all visitors to please keep an eye out for suspicious individuals and behavior on the New Vegas Strip. The new head of the Chairmen, Benny's former right-hand man Swank, consoled mourners: "If I know my pal Benny, he's swinging with the Big Cat Upstairs as we speak. Or he's chasing some angel broad with cans as big as her halo!"

RADIO: In other news—

In a guest bedroom off to the side, ROSE OF SHARON CASSIDY is sound asleep. Her belongings are neatly folded on the dresser, except for the cocktail dress that she was wearing, which has been thrown onto the ground.

RADIO: —refugees at Bitter Springs are giving startling accounts of the legate known as Lanius, who is said to be Caesar's top field commander. One refugee told us the legate took over an underperforming squad of troops by beating its commander to death in full viw of everyone. The legate then ordered a tenth of his own force be killed by the other nine tenths. And you thought your boss was a pain!

RADIO: You know, I think all news, whether it's good or bad, brings us closer together. Don't you?

Directly across from the elevator, across from VICTOR, are the shut doors to the master bedroom.

RADIO: These headlines, brought to you by Vault 21...Vault 21! Everything is better when you experience it...in a vault.

Inside the master bedroom, AGNES SANDS sits on the edge of the bed, wide awake. The RADIO plays from her PIP-BOY, which provides a slight amount of light in the dark room.

RADIO: Gonna play a song for you right now—it's about that special someone, that you can only find once...in a "Blue Moon."

"Blue Moon" begins to play from the radio. AGNES's head remains lowered in rumination.

Suddenly, the radio broadcast cuts out.

SFX: KZZRRRSSHHTTZ

RADIO: Has your life taken a turn?

A NEW VOICE speaks on the radio. It's dreamy, seductive.

RADIO: Do troubles beset you? Has fortune left you behind?

AGNES remains in thought.

But then: she lifts her head.

And she looks over at the radio.

RADIO: If so, then the Sierra Madre Casino,

The PIP-BOY displays: 11.09.81, 4:13. <<Signal Unknown>>

RADIO: in all its glory, invites you

AGNES listens.

RADIO: to begin again.

AGNES is now somewhere else.

EXT. MOJAVE DESERT. At sunrise, AGNES SANDS is perched atop a ridge somewhere in the desert. Her overcoat billows behind her, and her shoulder-mounted flashlight beams straight ahead. She looks manic. In one hand, she clutches her duffel bag, full of every belonging she has. Her other hand is wearing her PIP-BOY, and the radio broadcast continues:

RADIO: Come to a place where wealth, excitement, and intrigue await around every corner. Stroll along the winding streets of our beautiful resort. Make new friends...or rekindle old flames. Let your eyes take in the luxurious expanse of the open desert, under clear starlit skies. Gaze straight on into the sunset from our scenic Villa rooftops. Countless diversions await. Gamble in our casino, take in the theater, or stay in one of our exclusive executive suites that will shelter you...and cater to your every whim.

Below the ridge is a pile-up of wrecked shipping containers. One of them opens up toward the surface like a gaping throat of metal. It leads somewhere, deeper into the earth.

RADIO: So if life's worries have weighed you down—if you need an escape from your troubles—or if you just need an opportunity to begin again—

The source of the broadcast signal is coming from INSIDE.

RADIO: —then join us.

AGNES descends into the container, revealing a makeshift staircase of sheet metal that leads into darkness.

RADIO: Join us, let go, and leave the world behind...

The signal from inside the tunnel is now audible. It overlaps with AGNES's PIP-BOY...

RADIO: Join us, let go, and leave the world behind...

Until she sees it.

RADIO: ...at the Sierra Madre Grand Opening.

A pre-war, art deco type radio, sitting on a metal pedestal. It speaks to her.

RADIO: ...at the Sierra Madre Grand Opening.

AGNES stares at the radio, bewildered.

She barely notices the HULKING FIGURE about to grab her from behind.

RADIO: We'll be waiting.

END OF VOLUME 2

#fallout #fallout new vegas #fnv #dead money #agnes sands #it keeps right on a hurtin #ikroah archive #volume 02 #28

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the-ace-with-spades · 1 day

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I'm in the middle of a renewed obsession with cooking shows (kitchen nightmares, top chef but mostly polish editition hell's kitchen; also, watched burnt, the movie with bradley cooper, again...) and cooking for myself again (not as good...) and my top gun brainrot consensus is

I need a Celebrity Chef! Bradley AU.

An AU where he and Mav still stopped speaking when the papers pulling thing happened and Bradley left for college but when Bradley didn't have much choice but to either cook his own food (alone, without Mav's help for the first time in his life) or to starve on his college budget, he discovered some ridiculously good cooking skills there.

And you know, maybe he started a part-time job in some restaurant that went onto some equivalent of kitchen nightmares and the chef being the face of that show saw something in him and offered him mentoring and then when said chef was offered leading a new hell's kitchen/master chef show, he was there as one of the team sous chefs.

Or maybe he's one of the contestants and he either wins or he is good enough that he catches the chef's eye and gets to work and train under them. And maybe then he becomes new season's sous chef as well.

Imagine Mav turning on the TV one evening to see if he can make the new cooking show into his new guilty pleasure and seeing Bradley's face on the screen.

But I need this AU mostly because I fully believe that when they meet one way or another (either through Mav or sometime before the TGM timeline by accident) Jake has no fucking idea who Bradley is. He doesn't watch TV, he doesn't eat fancy food, and Bradley totally doesn't look like the type (hawaiian shirts, old jeans, too chill, lives in a house that looks like it hasn't had new decorations or furniture since the 80s) so when Bradley tells him 'oh I just work at a restaurant, nothing exciting' he just assumes he's a waiter or a barman or something. At that point, Bradley has his own fancy restaurant (Michelin-starred), regularly makes it onto the TV screens and is a celebrity.

So Jake would do all those ridiculous things before he finds out --- try to impress Bradley by making him burgers from supermarket ground beef, telling him his ravioli is not that good when Bradley cooks for him, taking him on a date out to a hole-in-the-wall taco place, blatantly criticizing his apple crumble because 'it has nothing on his ma's apple pie' and he might or might not have said that Pizza Hut is an okay place to go eat on a date. (And, you know, Bradley was absolutely charmed by the confidence and the dumbassery and everything in general just being so Jake, and it's not like he's a total culinary snob, he remembers how he was raised, etc).

It'd be even funnier if Jake finds out through Mav. Like, Mav asks the team to come to a dinner with his family and Bradley is holed up in the kitchen and Jake like a good southern boy asks if they need help with the food and Mav goes all, "Oh no, don't go in there, he's going to eat you alive if you even think about offering to help. My kid is some big fancy chef, he barely lets me help."

And then Bradley comes out of the kitchen with the amuse-bouche (kinda, it's not like they're in a restaurant...) and Jake has a surprise of a century because one, Bradley is Maverick's son?? and two, he's a chef??

Jake and Bradley have a little back and forth about it and then the whole squad is like, "You're dating the Bradley Bradshaw? And you, sir, your son is the Bradley Bradshaw?" because they recognize him from the TV.

And Jake finds out that not only is his boyfriend his CO's kid, he is also a world-renowned celebrity chef. And then the daggers are 0h-ing and Ah-ing at the best food they've ever eaten and Jake still goes, "I've eaten better steak."

And Mav, who has seen Bradley's rage and heard his rants about people having no taste tenses up until Bradley laughs and says, "Will do better next time, baby."

Years down the line, Bradley always repeats in the interviews that his husband is his toughest critic.

Maybe he's even asked to be the face of a new hell's kitchen-like TV show and one of the challenges for his contestant is cooking something his husband will like. Also, maybe cooking something from Mav's recipes in a way that will remind him of his childhood...

(Bonus points if Bradley is a recovering alcoholic/drug addict person non grata just like Adam from the Burnt movie... also, maybe it was Mav who kicked his butt into recovery??)

#this is silly #sorry needed to get it out so I can focus on my actual writing and not half-formed plot bunnies #that said if someone writes this i'll give you my firstborn #hangster #tgm #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin

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sin-djarin · 2 days

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do you think i'm spooky?

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x gn!reader

Summary: You run into someone at an event for the 30th anniversary of The X Files premiering.

Rating: T. This blog and its contents are 18+. MDNI.

Word Count: 1.5k (Sorry!)

Warnings: Potential X Files spoilers (nothing major, I promise), reader is said to have a job and adores The X Files but is otherwise undescribed, some innuendo but the rest is mostly fluff, no use of Y/N.

A/N: This is a submission for the @dieterbravobrainrotclub. The trope was 'meet cute' and the prompt was 'do you believe in aliens?'. I'm being super self indulgent and combining two of my favourite things. This is also the first thing I've finished since...January? Also brought to you by a slight fever. Okay, love you, bye.

It's just a date to most people. Just another Friday. Except for you, and the ten or so other people sitting with you, it’s the 30th anniversary of The X Files premiere. You’d succeeded in grabbing a last minute ticket to an event in a gallery you’ve never heard of, in a part of town you weren’t so familiar with to celebrate.

Details about the event were sparse at best, save for a promise of a screening of the first episode. Even so, you bid farewell to the Dana Scully bobblehead on your desk at 5.02pm and made the trek across the city. In reality, it’s less of a gallery and more of an event space for all sorts, but X Files inspired artwork from local artists adorn the walls.

You don’t know how many times you’ve watched it. It’s the show you go back to after scrolling through apps and channels trying to find something that catches your attention. Sometimes you do find something new, and it’s nice. When that happens, you can join in a conversation in the kitchen at work about whatever’s trending.

Other times, you can’t concentrate on anything at all and you find yourself back with Mulder and Scully. You know exactly what will happen and when. It’s on in the background when you fold laundry. You marathon it every year at Halloween. It’s safe.

So, you settle back in the folding metal chair at the back of the room, a grin threatening to spread wide across your face as soon as Truitt says “it’s happening again isn’t it?” right before you’re introduced to Dr Dana Scully for the umpteenth time. You were so lost in watching your favorite FBI agents about to become colleagues for the first time that you barely heard the door open and close behind you and hardly felt the empty seat next to yours being filled in the dim light.

“Sorry. Sorry.” He apologizes to you for his late arrival, before your eyes are drawn back to the wall in front of you where the episode is being projected from a laptop.

A soft lull of laughs fills the room when Scully utters the immortal words Spooky Mulder and your own heart almost skips a beat. The man beside you doesn’t so much as chuckle. A quick glance to your left and his brows are knitted together under a mass of fluffy hair, lips pursed, concentrating intently on the grainy footage.

“Sorry, nobody down here but the FBI's most unwanted.”

Maybe it’s the shitty sound blaring from the computer. Maybe it's just a bad rip of the episode. Maybe you’ve actually managed to watch it too many times and David Duchovny’s voice has started to reverberate inside your brain but you swear the line repeats itself.

More dialogue echoes again, a little louder this time. Not enough for it to be an interruption, you can hardly call it that after consuming it so many times, but it's enough for you to try to look for the source of it.

"Einstein's Twin Paradox, A New Interpretation. Dana Scully Senior Thesis."

The woman sitting directly in front of you turns her head and clicks her tongue at the man next to you but it doesn’t seem to faze him.

“That's why they put the "I" in "F.B.I."

It’s coming from him.

You can’t be annoyed. You’re impressed. It’s jarring even - someone else sharing your very own unusual if not all but useless skill.

They’re practiced, the way he’s saying the words, studied. All of them uttered in such a way that you don’t pick up from watching an episode once or twice. They might be hushed but the cadence and tone are almost, if not completely identical to Mulder’s.

As you watch, or at least try to, he continues, muttering a line under his breath here and there. And you keep listening.

When he doesn’t speak, he twirls the rings around on his knuckles then flexes them. And when he’s not doing that, he’s combing his fingertips through the fuzz on his chin, itching for Gillian Anderson to feed him his next line.

And she does, asking “who is it?”

“Steven Spielberg.” He mimics in perfect synchronicity with Mulder.

A giggle at his perfect timing and delivery escapes you and for the first time, he turns to face you.

“Shit. Sorry. I’m sorry.” He says, loud enough to earn himself a warning glare from the same woman he pissed off a few moments ago.

He does stop talking and the two of you watch on as Mulder and Scully get acquainted and bicker about what’s real and what’s not, in hospitals, in the Oregon forests, and in their respective hotel rooms.

While you’re cast back to the first time you watched this episode and to when your love of the 'will they, won’t they' trope began, your fellow attendee is vibrating in his chair. His knees are bouncing and his bejeweled hands are balled into fists like he’s ready to burst from trying to contain himself.

You get a glimpse of his tongue licking at the corner of his mouth, desperate to occupy it.

Until he can’t.

“Scully? It's me, I haven't been able to sleep. I talked to the D.A.'s office in Raymon County, Oregon. There's no case file on Billy Miles. The paperwork we filed is gone. We need to talk, Scully.”

As he matches the final lines word for word and syllable for syllable, your eyes widen at his skill but he takes no notice, still staring dead ahead at the credits rolling.

The lights come up and most of the crowd clears out but you take the time to appreciate the prints and memorabilia on the walls. There’s a mishmash of everything; portraits of Skinner, FBI ID badges and vintage trading cards from the 90s.

You come to a stop in front of an abstract interpretation of Mulder’s Jersey Devil drawing and a familiar voice speaks up from behind you.

“Do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials?”

You turn your body and the guy who was seated next to you for nearly forty minutes is now leaning in to examine an oil painting of little gray men with his back turned to you.

Curiosity piqued, you play along and answer, “I want to believe.”

He whips his head around, revealing a playful smirk creeping across his lips at your words from behind the popped collar of his coat,

Two big brown eyes peer at you over dark sunglasses before he presses you again, “Really? Do you believe in aliens?”

“Maybe not the green guys in spaceships but it’s hard to think we’re alone in a universe so big, right?” you shrug.

He ambles towards you, his fluffy brown teddy bear coat swaying with every step. It’s almost comical that he’s made no real effort to go incognito apart from his shades. His earlier ramblings make sense then - Dieter Bravo hardly won an Oscar for nothing. You’ve seen his face on billboards and strolling along red carpets but he seems to slide right into place in what’s really nothing more than a fancy warehouse down a side street.

“I wanted to apologize actually,” he says sheepishly, pulling off his sunglasses. “For back there. I couldn’t help it.”

You shake your head, “I’ve seen it more than enough times. You had me fooled though. Thought I might have been sitting next to Mr Duchovny himself,” you smile.

“Yeah? What’s your favourite episode?” he asks with his face lighting up before taking a seat on a bench along the wall.

You don’t have one. You have multiple. Part of you whirls into action, ready to gush about so many and why. The other part of you tells you to act somewhat normal around a celebrity and to not spook him with your endless amounts of trivia.

“Bad Blood, maybe?”

But Dieter beams back at you with that recognizable crooked smile, “Oh yeah! Where he’s like ‘I was drugged’ and the shoelaces and Luke Wilson.”

“What about you?”

“Shit,” he sighs. “So many. The driving one, where he can’t stop driving, I can’t remember the name. Ice is good. X-Cops-“

“You like X-Cops?” you cut him off because no one ever admits that they like X-Cops.

“Who doesn’t like X-Cops?! It’s so self aware!” he exclaims, defending his answer.

Dieter Bravo has been painted as a lot of things; from an eccentric to a disaster but you could never have really pegged him for an X-Files super fan. Especially not one with your level of enthusiasm.

You take a seat beside him for the second time that evening and he tells you that his favourite cryptid is El Chupacabra. You tell him you don’t really believe in those, that there’s no real evidence but he’s pretty convincing with his knowledge of BigFoot.

Eventually the lights hanging over the artwork begin to turn off one by one around you both but you could have easily stayed and listened to him tell you that he had a crush on Mulder and Scully all night.

“Maybe we can watch the next episode together?” Dieter suggests as you stand up from the bench to head towards the door.

“Deep Throat?” you offer and his scruffy jaw drops. “It’s the name of the second episode.”

“Yeah,” he stammers, his voice breaking at your clarification. “Dinner and…deep throat.”

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x gn!reader #dieter bravo fanfiction

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maaikeatthefullmoon · 1 day

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This week I have mostly been reading...

May 13-19th, 2024

New idea I've had, and hopefully something I'll have time to do once a week on a Sunday. Over the past seven days, I have devoured the following Good Omens fanfics, and I recommend these most heartily to you:

Completed works I've read this week:

Boyfriend Debut by snae_b Rated E - A & C are both porn actors. It sounds seedy. It's not. Holy Hell, it's not. It's one of the hottest things I've ever read, but also so, so sweet and delightful.

They Drink Tea At The End by @knifeforkspooncup Rated T - After a year spent in Heaven, A returns to C in the bookshop completely and utterly overstimulated in every sensory capacity. A wonderful, sweet story of them truly knowing each other and an excellent example of how the fandom relates to GO in so many beautiful ways.

Pay Per View by IneffableToreshi Rated E - A lovely story set in Canada, full of our so frequently seen miscommunication between A & C. And, as the author says: "Also, why the fuck is Aziraphale watching porn in their hotel room?! And taking notes?!"

Cranking Up The Heat by @vavoom-sorted-art Rated E - Well, the title says it all, really. And the fic's description: "The equivalent of that hot wings challenge, but with porn." Don't really want to say much more, as you've gotta see it to enjoy it.

On The Same Page by Chekhov Rated E - A fake marriage fic with Only One Bed. A & C are both authors, but two very different ones. Excellently written with very vividly described mental struggles with internal homophobia & self loathing.

A Model Guardian by Fuuma_san Rated E - As a former model, I found this fic really interesting. I'd genuinely love to know what the author's tie/experience in the industry is. C is a model, A is their bodyguard. An interesting tale which involves some great discussion on gender.

In The Room Where You Sleep by @mrghostrat Rated E - Another banger by ghostrat, posted in its entirety this week. In a reversal to many other fics I've seen, A is a vampire and C is a vampire hunter. *Homer Simpson voice* With sexy results. ;)

WIPs which have updated this week (which I devour as soon as I get the update!)

There Is A Light And It Never Goes Out by @phoen1xr0se Rated M - A is a researcher (puffins!), C is a lighthouse keeper on the island where A has run away to to escape his problems and do his research. The author has recently spent a week studying puffins - which is the ultimate dedication, if you ask me. Ch 9/26 posted this week

Find The Light by @klikandtuna Rated E - Headmaster A and Rockstar C. The story teases out a fraught history between them whilst keeping a tension between them in the modern day. Ch 4/? posted this week.

Terminus by @emotional-support-demon-crowley Rated T - Astronaut A is guided back to Earth by controller C after 92 years in space. There are many difficulties both of them have to face and they develop an amazing rapport. Ch 15/17 posted this week.

Oddity by @tsyvia48 Rated E - Actor C is contracted by (useless) Gabriel to guest curate an exhibition at the museum where A works. After getting off on the wrong foot, can they work together to pull off this show? Ch 22/24 posted this week.

Under The Summer Stars by @pannotbread Rated E - This wonderful fic has taught me more about physics than school ever did (mostly because I never did any physics, but...well). A & C have to share their time at an observatory because there is Only One Telescope. Not only will you learn about astrophysics, astrobiology, and astroecology, you'll also read some of the most poetically, beautifully written masturbation scenes I've ever seen. *ahem* Ch 6/13 posted this week.

Free by well, me: imposterssyndrome Rated E - A & C meet (again?) in an acute mental health ward after both having had mental health crises. A runs a bookshop but is very much under his parents' control. C has been homeless since childhood and has struggled his entire life. They do not trust each other when they first meet, but feel strangely drawn to one another all the same. Where will this lead them? This is a passion piece for me. There is a lot of lived experience in it, and extensive research from both professionals and peers. It has been a real journey for me to write it, and as I'm coming closer to the end it's becoming very emotional for me. Ch 43/? posted this week

#fics i read this week #good omens fanfiction #fanfic update #fanfic rec #fanfiction #imposterssyndrome #good omens fanfic rec

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zandlikething · 1 day

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Perler bead qsmp eggs I made the same day they left

I haven't posted anything about it because I was still processing it. I thought Sense the eggs were coming back all the eggs would come back I was very sad to see them go but I understand why the admins left and respect their choice in leaving so please no one harass the admins

I have a message to the admins that played the eggs in the picture ( which I doubt they will see but I want to get it off my chest) so lots of rambling from this point on be warned.

Lullah: Lullah you were one of the first eggs I got really attached to and it was because of clips of you Chayanne and Philza that originally got me into the qsmp. Seeing how much you grew was so cool to see.

Seeing you go from a shy little egg who likes flowers and music to a bad ass egg who would do anything for her loved ones. An egg who survived so much and went through so much hurt but also a lot of joy.

Lullah you brought a lot of joy into people's life you certainly did mine and I can't wait to see what you do next.

Chayanne: Chayanne my first introduction to you was the clip of Max yelling at you cause you blew a hole on his property ( I know that was another admin this is for both) Chayanne you were always so chaotic and fun but so loving and protective of your siblings.

Your rivalry with Quackity was always so funny to see a grown man beffing with a pixel egg in Minecraft. You honestly remind me of my older brother which probably explains why I would relate to Lullah sometimes lol

I hope whatever you're doing you are doing great at it and I hope you know how much you did for this community

Pomme: Pomme I remember when you first arrived with the rest of the French I remember how sweet you were to everyone around you and how much fun you would have with all your parents. I would watch Bad pov a lot and the stream would always get brighter when you showed up.

Your connection to all the eggs were super sweet and all your lore was so interesting. Seeing you bond with Bad and Dapper was so cute and then Bad becoming your Dad and Dapper your brother was so cute. It was never "official" but it didn't need to be it didn't matter all that matter was you guys were family

I like all the Pomme times we got and one of my favorite streams was just following the eggs around mainly you and Dapper. It was so interesting and cool to see what you guys did and say without your parents around. I also found it cool we had something in common because I love RWBY too in fact if you scroll down my Tumblr you'll see some post I did on RWBY a few years ago.

Thank you Pomme I'm happy to see you and Dapper in Bads chat sometimes I can't wait to see what projects you'll work on next

Richardson: My boi the most bold egg lol your antics would always make me laugh. All the pranks you pulled on Bad and all the times you teased him to get a reaction were so funny. You were by far the most chaotic egg you would just pop up out of nowhere in anyone's stream it would always get more chaotic even if just a little.

Honestly your goodbye and final words made me cry yup you not Chayanne and Lullah and Philza saying goodnight you who just walked into the sunset was the greatest thing ever. The memorial you made for you Dapper and Pomme was so good I love it and I want you to know that I learned a lot about Brazil because of you and your parents I want to go to Brazil one day now somewhere I've never thought about going.

Goodbye you little rascal I hope whatever you're doing your doing it with chaos

Dapper: Dapper you are my favorite I immediately was drawn to you and your top hat. I first saw you in a Philza stream protecting Lullah from Quackity and I started watching Bad ever since.

I remember when Quackity kidnapped you in a desert temple and how scared I and the rest of the chat was. Little did we know how common that would become lol how many times did you get kidnapped like 7.

You and Bad's lore was my favorite I loved your guys father and son connection. It was clear to see how much Bad cared about you and how you cared for him back. You guys made such a good team with all the stuff you made with the create mod.

I relate to you the most for a few reasons one being all the animals you had and collected. I am a big animal person so if I could actually have cool mythical and cool animals I would but also one of my favorite signs from you is "he can't handle the uber powers of my uber autism" This made me laugh so much I am on the spectrum so when I saw this clip I was Ohhhh that's probably why I relate to this Minecraft egg so much lol

Dapper thank you for really getting me into the qsmp there were some ruff patches and a little drama but through it all I had a good time

Thank you for introducing me to Badboyhalo I now have found one of my new favorite streamers

Thank you all of qsmp for helping me and many others through our days and for an amazing year I will still watch qsmp as long as Bad streams it but I have a feeling it's going to be time to say goodbye soon. So thank you qsmp I am sad not to have these streams in this next chapter of my life but I am happy for when you were you helped me get through.

But you know what they say everyone:

"Don't cry because it's over,smile because it" happened

#qsmp #quackity smp #qsmp eggs #qsmp badboyhalo #qsmp rambles #qsmp tallulah #qsmp dapper #qsmp philza #qsmp chayanne #qsmp lullah #qsmp pomme #qsmp richarlyson #perler beads #perler art #qsmp admins

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dreemurr-skelememer · 14 hours

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omfg whats the original design that was copied off of? this is the first time ive heard of this

it has been long enough that a lot of people don't know about this anymore, so i'll keep it brief bc i'll be real i'm not here to linger on it

this is the original design that was posted before the official canon redesign as u-kun has stated, the issue is resolved and it's not particularly a matter that matters anymore

i'm not about to discuss what happened or theorize what happened in u-kun and joku's dms (not my business either) but with the way i've worded things earlier, i will say that with how joku acted for years, i (key word personally) didn't (still don't, really) believe the entire thing because i watched it happen and joku didn't leave any credit even when the redesign came out (which is uhhh just dirty imo)

I WANT TO SAY!!!!!!!!!!!! you're free to not agree with me in believing that it's stolen. i do not care whatsoever. honestly i just have a lot of issues with joku and it's a lot of bias so i haven't really changed my mind on it. but there's ur context

#Anonymous #you got beef

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iloveschiaparelli · 2 days

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Finding out from my mom that I spoke full sentences at 10 months old and then adding that to all my other memories of being young just feels like a punch to the gut

When I first self dxd autism I knew that my experiences from age 10 up were consistent with autism diagnostic criteria but I only had a very vague understanding of how my early childhood was affected. Like I knew that I behaved the same way but I didn't have any specific examples and at first my mom didn't believe me either, so she wasn't much help. I honestly believed that I must not have presented autism in an obvious way, since it was missed in my childhood.

But since then I've realized/learned several things:

I was speaking in full sentences at 10 months old. Typically that isn't supposed to happen until age 3 or 4.

I spoke incessantly. All the time. To the point where my mom still jokes that they had to "train me to stop talking" (what exactly that entailed I have no idea???)

Throughout my life including early childhood people have asked me to slow down when talking or remarked on how fast I spoke

In my childhood and pretty much through out my life pre-depresion, people would remark on how good my memory was. Especially in my early childhood (4-8 years old) I would get comments like this ALL THE TIME, I just remembered literally everything?

I taught myself to read at age 4. Because I wanted to read the same storybook over and over again for a period of over a week at least, and my caregivers were sick of reading it to me and started saying no when I asked. So I said "fine, I'll just read it to myself." I was reading at a 3rd grade level at least. by the time i was 5. When I was 5 or 6, I read The Secret Garden, unabridged. I remember this because I was really into tinkerbell at the time, it had just come out. TSG was my mom's copy of the book from her childhood and I had to confess to her that I had fallen asleep while reading and the paperback cover had fallen off in my bed.

Despite making my way through the book pretty quickly, I did not understand a lick of the meaning. I just took down the sequence of events.

I often sat down and arranged stones or blocks or my dollhouse elements by category, size, or color. I would also spend times trying to make sure the chains on the swinger were perfectly aligned.

I watched Finding Nemo maybe 30 times when I was 1-3 years old. Like I would beg my parents to start it over again immediately after it finished. At the time my parents owned a wall projector instead of a TV, so big picture. I suspect now that I was seeking out a visual stim because I still find that movie delightful.

Also forgot to mention, we lived in Japan when I was 1-2.5 and I started learning Japanese?? I don't remember it but according to my parents I was already using some Japanese words by the time we returned to the US. And I had learned to use chopsticks.

Dinosaur. Arms.

Picky eating that was explicitly known to be a texture issue. Nobody thought to analyze this further.

When I was 6 or so I was exposed to plush blankets for the first time. It became my dream to own one. I bought my first one when I was 19 and now I own like 10 of them because plush is one of my favorite textures in the world. But girls I would literally sit in bed and dream about owning a plush blanket. For years. Every time I went to summer camp and someone brought one for themselves I would stare at it, forlorn. Yearning.

I would read the science homeschool books excessively. I went into 5th grade Earth Science already knowing everything that we were being taught, because I had pored over geology and physical science books since I was 5. Probably about 5 years old is when I was able to explain how volcanoes worked and the layers of the earth. Also the water cycle.

These science books also included my dad's 100 year complete collection of national geographic magazines. At 2 years old I was able to explain the star life cycle and how black holes formed. As well as what would happen if you fell into one.

Once I gained access to the internet at 14 my knowledge of the cosmos expanded explosively. I became able to thoroughly explain multiverse theory, multiple theories for the origin of the universe, a good deal of the geological history of Mars, Mars's atmospheric composition, and could fully explain how solar flares worked, how Earth's magnetic field protected us, and how Mars magnetic field had disappeared taking the atmosphere with it. I was failing biology.

Transfered schools twice and a year later had to start biology over again, this time aced it. DNA replication was simple as pie.

SUCKED at math. Always.

Sucked at socialization.

Hyperfixated on the Maze Runner movies to the point where I had the 2nd one memorized and would read the credits for fun. Got so into the BTS that 5 years later I went to film school.

LOUD music was my faborite coping mechanism. Just about destroyed my hearing because I would, on a nightly basis, play heavydirtysoul on loop through the Brookstone ear buds I had gotten for Christmas at Max volume until I felt calm enough to sleep. Would also squirm with the music which i now know to be an uninformed attempt at stimming.

Just... how did I NOT get screened for autism as a kid? I was literally a textbook case for what likely would have been diagnosed as aspergers at the time.

My parents were somewhat neglectful at that time because of a lot of reasons, but I don't really fault them for it. Sometimes I forget that they even were but then I remember things like this.

Asked my mom about it yesterday "how did you not think me speaking full sentences at 10 months was weird?!!" And her response was "we didn't know!"

They didn't know my dad was autistic.

They didn't know that hitting your milestones 2-3 years early is NOT normal and likely a sign of a disorder.

They didn't know that repetitive behavior and obsessive organizing is not normal.

If they had known...... my childhood would have been so different. I wouldn't have nearly flunked out of college. I wouldn't have grown to hate myself because of my social skills. I wouldn't have had countless episodes of feeling like I was going to explode out of my skin but shoving it down and chewing on my cheek just to get through the social situation. So much would have been different.

This is why it's so important to spread general awareness of autism symptoms and behaviors. Real and varied examples, not just solely sdtereotypes and nonverbal autistic alone. And not just autism either but pretty much any disorder.

Or at least an awareness about what child development is SUPPOSED to look like, so that parents can flag when things aren't normal.

#actually autistic #Autism #neurodivergent #neurodiversity #Science #Autism awareness #Autistic #Audhd

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anxresi · 2 days

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So, it turns out Chloe IS going to return for S6... this hot off the press from her voice actor... (actually from back in Jan, but who's counting?)

...So why, my dears, couldn't I give a damn?

Probably because, as arguably the writers had no idea what to do with her in S4 and S5 other than strip her of all personality, agency & likability, what's the point in her still remaining?

*She's not going to be a hero again, Manbaby Astruc has made this PERFECTLY clear thankyouverymuch. IMHO, she's far more useful as a tool for him to take out his warped misogynist humiliations on, apparently. Why he doesn't just buy himself a blonde mannequin, call it 'Chloe' then beat it with a wooden stick whilst shouting various profanities within the privacy of his own bedroom, IDK. Maybe it's good therapy for him to expose his weird hang-ups in front of a mass audience? Hey, if it works for him... good for you, buddy! I just wish the rest of us didn't have to suffer to aid his treatment.

*As a villain, Chloe's threat level is arguably less than 0%. She is now written to be dumb as a post, no-one trusts or likes her and everything she says and does seems more cartoonishly infantile with every tortuous appearance since S3. The ONLY time she posed any vague threat is during her massively overhyped team-up with Lila where basically she was little more than a pawn to the Mary Sue Of All Lying B*tches... and those two episodes where she took over Paris as Mayor with a bunch of robots were undebately the most stupid ones of S5. Which if you've seen the competition, you KNOW that's some achievement.

*My prediction is: They're gonna rehash the same tiresome schik we saw before she got on that plane at the end of S5... perhaps they'll give us a one episode Hope Spot upon her unexpected arrival back where it looks like she's changed after attending a 'tough school' in New York/London but OH MY WORD WHAT A SURPRISE it turns out to all have been a ruse to become Queen Bee again. YAWN. She'll move straight back into her old room... Andre and Audrey will reconnect... and it'll be like nothing ever happened. In case you hadn't noticed, this show handles plot continuity or character development about as well as Marinette keeps her distance from her crushes.

*'But where does that leave Zoe?' You might ask, to which I can only respond with a succinct 'If you had the Hubble Space Telescope on full power, you still wouldn't be able to locate how little I care about that particular subject.' Maybe she'll carry on as Vesperia. Maybe she'll get a girlfriend. Maybe she'll do something halfway interesting, and give the viewership a heart attack out of sheer shock value alone. It doesn't matter to me one jot... less because I curse the ground this insipid plot device masquerading as a serious character walks on, but simply because I have no faith in the utterly abysmal writing this show has displayed for years and years now. Chloe could take over the lead role in a SHOCKING twist, they could change the name to Miraculous Queen and I STlLL wouldn't give it a second glance. The fish rots from the head-up, guys.

(Okay, so that's a bit of a lie. I would probably sneak a peek at ONE episode out of sheer curiosity, but you and I both know with HIM in charge the standard won't improve one iota. Plus, it isn't gonna happen anyway... so why am I tying myself in knots speculating about an impossible scenario?)

Anyway, I've nattered on for too long. I'll just leave you by answering Selah's somewhat disingenuous last question there about 'your favorite Chloe line of season 5'.

This implies we were watching 'Chloe'. As far as I was concerned, we weren't. Not the Chloe I fangirled for in the very beginning and got me involved in the show in the first place because I could relate so much. Not the Chloe who got so many other fans emotionally invested in her personal and familial struggles, before her character was comprehensively trashed by a ruinous creator with a grudge.

So in answer to your question Ms Victor, none. Because it simply wasn't Chloe.

#Bit of an emotional moment to end things on there #Hey I can only say what I feel #You want spontaneous raw honesty well here it is #Hope it was worth the read #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #ladybug #chloe bourgeois #ml salt #marinette dupain-cheng #disney #ml #zag #adrien agreste

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lunar--iris · 2 days

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Fable smp has come to an end, so my first post will be purely appreciation for everything that it has brought me. I found fable through sherbert's Tik Tok, they posted an Icarus video and I was interested.

My first fable stream was in season 1. I can't remember the stream title but it was Sherbert turning Haley's (blown up) house into a amethyst geode.

I remember that the beacons outside of their house were changed and they fixed it, but they changed again. I told them that they changed and they actually read my chat message. It's a feeling I can't quite describe. Every other twitch stream I have been in I felt so distant but Sherbert made me feel so seen in that moment.

After that first stream I continued watching, I was never caught up on lore and everyone streamed during my school day. Even with being lost every time there was lore I still felt like I was apart of something, fable gave me a space I could just be in even without fully understanding.

By the end of season 1 I barley knew what had happened. Through the beginning of season 2 I didn't know what was happening but when I started catch streams more I felt like I knew where I was supposed to be. I got a lot more involved in the community, I started cosplaying and making fanart.

When school started again I fell into a really dark place and as the year continued it didn't get better. Then for some reason I started catching fable streams again. Fable gave me a community that was nothing but welcoming and accepting, and that helped me so much.

In the summer after season 2 I went to my local comic con and cosplayed characters from fable. I accidentally met Daniel on a bus while wearing my Sherbet merch (which then was told to Sherbet and they talked about it on stream, that was wild). I wrote fan fiction (that I never posted but that's okay).

I've been the most involved in season 3. I've shed many tears, I've yelled at my screen (mostly at icarus) I've started playing Minecraft myself, I've met content creators I highly admire, I've found a huge part of myself.

I've been through all 3 of the sherbathons. 3 whole years of angst and joy on fable. All of the sherbverse lore. All the huge CMV's and amazing cutscenes. All the emotions that came with every character.

I can't say everything I feel with this post, every wonderful experience I've had. But know that in me saying this I have nowhere near enough words to describe my gratitude.

So I just want to say thank you. To all of the cast, the artists, the voice actors, the songwriters, and of course the community for making fable what it is today.

-Lunar (ignore all of my probably terrible grammar and spelling)

#Thank you for everything I literally can't explain how grateful I am #fable smp #icarus morningstar #rae morningstar #Fable smp appreciation #quixis #sherbverse #fsmp #fable smp athena #Fable smp ending #sherbertquake56 #heyhay13

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justforalittlewhilensft · 1 day

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THIS IS JUST FANTASY

Don't read it if you don't like it

👾👾👾👾👾

I had been eating Daddys cum my whole life. From it being on my noodles, in my sandwiches and even in my milk. Mommy said it was special delicious family recipe sauce. Oh it was a family recipe, all right.

When I turned 6, Mommy allowed Daddy to cum over my body. It got him off so fast.

When I turned 7, I gave Daddy my first blow and hand job. I had to use both hands because he's so thick.

One night I heard Mommy and Daddy make a bet. I don't know what the bet was but Mommy won. Daddy was so upset so I drank his cum directly from him, he moaned alot. That was the first and last time Daddy made me cum. He licked my little pussy so much that it became wet and I felt so fucking good after.

When I turned 8, I found out the nature of that bet. Mommy explained that I now belonged to Grandpa.

Grandpa didn't fuck me right away when I got there. He let Grandma show me around my new home and then she let me suckle on her dangly breasts.

Grandma gave me lots of kisses and marks all over my little body. Grandpa would watch mostly.

Around Easter time, Grandma told me that it was Grandpa's turn. That was the first time I was penetrated. I was on the living room table on my back with my little legs spread open. Grandpa eased inside. It hurt so bad, like he was ripping me in half. I didn't want to tell him cause he kept saying how tight and good his little granddaughter was. After a while though it started to feel really good. He never came inside me, just on my flat chest. I bled a bit so he carried me back to my room where I fell asleep.

By the time I was 9 or 10, I was regularly having sex with my Grandparents. I loved Grandma's tits and Grandpa's thick cock.

When I turned 12, they started bringing me to "work meetings," where I was passed around by other old men and women. God it felt so fucking good.

On the way home from one of these meetings, Grandpa fucked me in the van and that was the first time I squirted.

I also learned that my older sister was given to my Uncle just like I became Grandpa's. One time I asked if they could visit and the next weekend they were over visiting.

By visiting I mean, we had a family orgy. It was Grandpa, Grandma, my Uncle, my sister and even my oldest brother came. That was the best sex I've had my whole young life.

Although I missed Mommy and Daddy, I'm so happy Mommy won that bet all those years ago.

#hard k1nk #fauxc3st #1nc3$t #fauxcest #18+ account #@gepl4y #18+ blog #1cky thoughts #family nsft #dark k!nk #sexy nasty #freaky #super dark #grandpa #granddaughter #grandmacore #daddy x daughter

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wexhappyxfew · 2 days

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folklore or whatnot

(a/n): for a month or two now, i've had three to four pages where i have blurb ideas just sitting in my drafts with no home or no direction, so now i've decided to utilize those pieces and do a little something with them for the silver bullets girls! AND! can happily say this snippet that i started with gets to see the light of day! early annie x brady mentions for anyone interested (i know we have the annie x brady girlies out there hehe), along with more of co-pilot francis montez (whom i wanted to do more writing for!), so please enjoy!! <3 note: LOTS more info regarding cpt birdie faulkner!! woo!

It had actually been Francis Montez that convinced her that she deserved to head out to the local pub that a good portion of the men from the 100th went on nights where they didn't have to stay on base.

Annie had considered the fact that Francis was actually coming around in more ways than one; after Annie's first successful mission aboard Silver Bullets, commanding their crew, from take-off, dropping the bombs and landing, Francis had turned to her in the cockpit and given her a firm look, with a smile itching at the corner of her lips. And ever since, Francis seemed to be making a more conscious effort to be around Annie. Whether it was because Francis was missing Captain Faulkner or was recognizing Annie's capabilities to command a flying fort, Annie appreciated it in more ways than one.

So, when Francis had come up to her mid-afternoon, as they were all stood around after a practice run, she had off-handedly mentioned the pub, and offered Annie to come along with them, "You don't realize how much you need something like that until you're there." Francis had promised. A majority of the girls were dispersed throughout the pub for the most part, huddled around tables with other men from the 100th or at dart boards, or taking a smoke break outside. It seemed everyone had their spots and positions and it was only Annie who felt out of place.

A replacement command pilot was enough of a set of shoes to fill, not even to mention what the reciprocation would ultimately be like.

"You want a beer?" Francis asked her as they stood side by side in the entrance. Annie felt a bit bad - Francis was clearly comfortable and used to this environment and Annie was holding her back a bit. Annie looked up at her co-pilot and nodded firmly, hiding the bit of hesitancy that was for sure living in her eyes.

"Sure." Francis nodded her head towards the bar.

"They're usually warm so…" Francis started, glancing her way with a small smile, "don't feel bad if it tastes a little funky." Annie watched as Francis got two beers and then pushed the warm mug into her grasp.

The thing was, it wasn't the warm beer or the atmosphere or even the people - it was the thought of alcohol in her system. She never had really had a problem until she had joined up and wondered if she'd become like her mother. Drunk as a skunk on any chance she had, downing beer and cheap liquor while her 15-year-old daughter ran the house. Annie swallowed nervously looking at the beer and glanced back up at Francis, who was staring at her confusedly (and with good reason).

"You good, Bradshaw?"

"Fine." Annie answered quickly, pulling the mug up to take a small sip, which did taste a little funky, "Where do you usually sit?" Francis quirked out a smile and nodded over to a table where she could see enough names to know it was certainly an officer-heavy section.

"Birdie and I….." Francis started, the 'I' getting caught in her throat a bit, "we always sat with them. As officers, ya know? Buck always saved us seats." Annie watched her quietly.

"Past few times though…."

"Yeah." Annie offered, noticing the sudden emotion warping Francis' eyes, "Let's go, let's have a sit." Francis nodded to her slowly, before turning and leading the way.

Annie watched the back of Francis' head, her dark hair down and curled, as she expertly navigated the tables and people in the crowd all around. It was very natural for her all of this - while Annie felt more stiff-backed than she ever had. She was trying to get better with that.

But, ever since maintaining the control of Command Pilot, everything she did felt monumental as in, if she fucked up, it would reflect on her crew. If she said something on the wrong end of a note, it'd fall back on, you guessed it, her crew. Her girls. And she didn't want others thinking of Silver Bullets badly, nor the possible swirling idea that Lieutenant Bradshaw couldn't lead like Captain Faulkner could - that losing Captain Faulkner was the worst thing to happen, but clearly obtaining Lieutenant Bradshaw had been worse. No. Annie was determined to make her impressions and personally, she wanted to make them worthwhile.

She was command pilot for Silver Bullets for a reason.

Clearly someone trusted her.

"Boys." Francis said as she approached, rounding on the group, as Annie's eyes quickly darted about the table, picking up the likes of Majors like Cleven and Egan, along with navigators Crosby and Payne (he went by Bubbles though, she was sure Bessie had mentioned that). Kidd was also there, with Brady and DeMarco and a few others where her mind was going blank. A few British pilots sat opposite, evidently quite, almost brooding. Annie looked to Francis again, watching as a few of the men called out to her, before looking to Annie who was still stood, frozen, with a mug of warm beer in her grasp.

"Francis Montez, you actually made it out, huh!" one of the Lieutenants called from beside Cleven - the name was gone from her mind as she watched him clap Cleven on the back before standing and reaching out a hand, to shake Francis' before the two turned and he was bounding towards Annie.

"Hey, Lieutenant, uh…."

"Bradshaw." Annie said quickly, keeping her eyes on the man watching as he smiled at her, eyes lingering from the British, to the man to her, coming around the table and wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

"Bradshaw, I don't think we've met, Curt Biddick, it's a pleasure to see you here tonight, 'specially mingling with a few guys like us, huh?" Annie saw Brady roll his eyes, as Biddick let out a chuckle, "I'm just joking with youse, I swear. Look, I'll buy you a drink-"

"Curt, do you really gotta do shit like that?" Francis said, pulling him from beside her, and bumping his shoulder, "Instead of a drink, how 'bout you offer her a seat, huh?"

"I think that's a great idea," Major Cleven offered as he stood from his, nodding to his spot between where Biddick had been and Major Egan who looked up at her with a wide grin, "Have a seat, Bradshaw." Annie looked to Major Cleven and nodded slowly to him.

"Thank you, sir." she said, stepping forward and settling herself into the seat, Cleven turning and grabbing another chair to pull up on her other side as DeMarco pulled in a chair for Francis and she settled between him and Major Egan. With almost the comfort of the men of the 100th around her, looking forward and seeing the British still watching her, quiet and contemplating, she felt slightly out of place under their stares. But, she was here for a reason, among ranking officers in the American Air Force.

"So," one of the British pilots - RAF possibly, RAF definitely - said leaning forward, care to introduce us to your new friend." The group sort of went…quiet if that was the word for it, "What happened to the other one? Too much to handle? Flying in broad daylight, huh?" Annie noticed Major Egan leaning back in his chair, looking ready to pounce himself across the table, and took it as her opportunity to intervene before someone said something they'd regret.

"1st Lieutenant Annie Bradshaw of the 100th. I'm Command Pilot for Silver Bullets, B-17. 418th." Annie said with a nod, "Captain Faulkner died on impact on a mission a month ago. I got the call and was beyond honored to fill those shoes." Looking at the British as she finished speaking, she reveled in the silence and sipped at her beer and then placed it back down on the damp wood of the table.

"So, no, not at all too much to handle," Annie said, tapping her fingers on the glass and offering a smile, "I just have the intention to do what I can for the bombing crew now and show I deserve to be here. Just like the rest of us. With a greater focus on the cause; winning the war."

"We all have our call to arms that we're answering to," Francis offered in, leaning forward against the table, "and people die every, damn, day, so I would offer you to reconsider any other thoughts towards Lieutenant Bradshaw while you sit here, okay?" The group fell into silence for a moment, as Annie looked to Francis who offered her a smirk and a wink.

Leave it to the co-pilot to have the command pilot's back; Annie made a mental note in her brain for that one.

"She's one of the best. Seen her fly myself." Brady supplied in the silence that had festered, and the whole table, Annie included looked towards him and he sent his eyes flickering around and offered her a nod. People started looking away and at each other, but she held Brady's gaze and offered a small smile in his direction. He didn't look away.

Brady's gaze was intense to say the least, but there was something in her to where she couldn't look away - offering up his own compliments in her own favor because the British had a bone to pick? She could feel the tops of her cheeks turning crimson and focused back on the beer in her grasp, attempting to forget about Brady's gaze that was evidently still on her.

"Silver Bullets, what a charming name," one of the British on the left said, "and that means….?"

"A single, tactile thing that can essentially be a game-changer, changes tides, send waves," Annie supplied quickly, looking up from her beer in record time, " I never got to meet Captain Faulkner but Lieutenant Carlisle told me that Faulkner named the fort herself. Folklore or whatnot."

"Basically means that the more you stop asking stupid questions, the more you won't have to dig yourself into a deeper hole, 'lright?" Major Egan said leaning forward, "Now, how about you all and your British manners give some respect to the lady, okay?"

"Bucky-" DeMarco started, but Major Egan held up a hand.

"Nah, nah, nah, I'm not done yet," Major Egan said and pointed a finger at her, "Lieutenant Bradshaw stood up to the challenge and took it like taking a bull by the horns, what the hell is your prob-"

"Gentlemen," Crosby said intervening, turning to the British pilots, "it's a pleasure really, but Lieutenant Bradshaw has fortified herself as an incredibly pivotal command pilot in the 100th. I mean, if you really need a visual for…such poor eyesight…feel free to come to Thorpe Abbotts any day of the week and she could probably rattle off a tour of Silver Bullets herself and fly you to France and back without breaking a sweat."

"Yeah, yeah, Crosby, thank you, yeah," Bucky said, leaning forward, "if you really thinking taking a few jabs at one of our command pilots I think-"

"I've never seen someone fly with such cool, calm, collected confidence that I have to practically reach over and make sure she's alive," Francis interjected, casting a glance at Annie, her gaze firm, as she looked back to the British, "anyone could die any given time or day. And Captain Faulkner happened to be in the crossfire. But Lieutenant Bradshaw has stepped up to the plate-"

"And hit a fucking grand slam-"

"Sir," Francis said glancing at Major Egan who held up his hands in mock protest, "if you have sort of questioning about Lieutenant Bradshaw and her confidentiality in a B-17, you can happily talk to me day or night - preferably night, but I know you do your runs then. Damn shame." The British sat in stunned silence. "So, please, feel free, but I assure you that Lieutenant Bradshaw is doing what she must and Captain Faulkner is rolling over in her grave knowing you're talking to her like this." More stunned silence. Biddick let out a low whistle as Major Egan leaned back and wrapped his arms around the backs of both her and Francis' chairs.

"Well, gentlemen, you just got bested by one of the best damn co-pilots in all the 100th," Major Egan said with a dry chuckle afterwards, "c'mon, what do you gotta say for yourselves, huh?" The British pilots continued to sit in an uneasy silence.

"Right." Major Cleven said, butting in quietly, as he laced his fingers together and nodded to the group, "Thanks for the drinks tonight, gentlemen." Major Cleven nodded to the RAF pilots, who began to protest as the group started to stand, Major Egan urging Annie to stand to her feet with her beer as she glanced back at the RAF pilots - stunned into silence and the sudden realization of having to pay for 6 to 7 drinks at their disposal.

Annie blindly followed behind Major Egan's bobbing head until the group had started to settle at a new table, away from that of the RAF pilots, whom Annie had taken a glance back to and who were slowly standing, adjusting themselves and muttering amongst one another.

"Last time I hear about their shit with Silver Bullets," Major Egan said from beside her as she settled into the open chair beside him, glancing up at the table and eyeing Francis, who was a few chairs down and nodding to her (which brought Annie a greater comfort than she could imagine), "Birdie used to sock 'em in the mouth with what she'd tell 'em. You could do that, but you're fucking eloquent with it, Bradshaw, so, they might've lost it if we kept at it." Annie glanced up at Major Egan as his sipped his beer again.

"They always got a comment," DeMarco muttered from across the table as he pulled his cigarette off his lip and glanced at Annie, "you get used to it, but it don't mean that it doesn't annoy the shit outta the rest of us. They went after Silver Bullets all the time. And they damn-well knew what it meant to."

"Birdie just never actually told them what it meant, ya know," Biddick offered with a grin and a nod, "she liked to mess with 'em all the time. Get in their heads, shit like that. She got 'em good. But, hey, you did much of the same so cheers to you, Bradshaw." Annie let out a small laugh and scratched behind her head.

"I'll be honest, I've been through enough higher order bullshit in my time and just didn't want to have to hear any sorta sob story from their mouths," Annie admitted honestly, earning a few chuckles from the table, "you get enough of that from back home. Didn't need it here to." A uniformed grouping of nods and agreements and 'Amen to that' echoed about, with people clinking glasses and smiling at her - and for a moment, she felt she won a bit of something deep in her being, for even just a statement like that.

Annie slowly glanced to her left and found Brady there - their few conversations hadn't been anything stellar, but he'd been nothing but kind to her after their first unexpected meeting together on the tarmac. She smiled at him, when she caught him watching her and she watched as his gaze subtly softened and he leaned toward her a bit as she opened her mouth to speak.

"Thanks for saying that. Back there." Annie said with a nod, as he grip on her beer became tighter, "You didn't have to, but I appreciated it." Brady watched her with a grin on his lips and nodded as he leaned towards her ear over the loudness of the group.

"You're a good pilot, Bradshaw," he said quietly and with a genuineness in his voice that it made her heart resound to even the mere compliment that anyone could give anytime of the week, "and you get sick of hearing their comments on what a whole other crew is doing with their flying and all. You handled them well, in my opinion." He leaned back from her and nodded to her with a small smile, his eyes glowing. She watched him and then found her smile again and smiled back.

"Thanks." she said with a nod, and he grinned wider at her, "If you don't mind my asking, they said…much of the same to Birdie?" Brady nodded quickly, sipping his beer again before looking at her (in that damn good looking uniform of his that would make a rock look stellar she thought), and turning his body towards her in the chair.

"All the time." Brady said, "'Course she had us, we didn't let the Brits get all their jeering out that they wanted, but Birdie held her own, and she usually would get them pretty good. Had them practically squirming in their seats. It's a bit of a treat sometimes, ya know?" Annie smiled at the thought and sent a glance to Francis, who was engaged in a serious looking conversation with Biddick and Kidd.

"And Francis?" Brady smiled at her.

"Francis always gets her digs in, they must be learning to suspect it at this point, but they should've played better when you were sitting there. They know how we all are at this point and you're no different. New ranking officer or not, we don't let shit like that slide." Brady affirmed to her and Annie smiled at him, with a look of thanks in her eyes. Brady watched her quietly for a moment as she seemed to soak in his words, before clearing his throat.

"What's this about some folklore, huh?" Brady asked her, almost innocently and sweetly enough that she looked up at him with a surprised chuckle.

"What?" Brady grinned as he leaned forward.

"Silver Bullets. Back there, you said it meant something…folklore or whatnot. What's that about?" Brady asked her, sipping his beer, "The most Birdie let on for us what that it was enough to kill us all or something like that." Annie watched him and broke into a rather loud chuckle and shook her head at him, before leaning against the table and sighing.

"Supposedly it killed werewolves, I don't know." Annie said, looking to his eyes, "You'd have better luck talking to Margie about all that though, she's into all that ghost sorta stuff." Brady let out a laugh at her words and nodded to her.

"I'll have to keep that in mind." Annie grinned.

Something about Lieutenant John Brady made her want to keep talking to him - his quiet confidence and inviting nature made her insides feel warm and almost curious to know more about himself, his story, him. She didn't have a lot of people like that back home - being young and taking care of an army of siblings who had practically been ready to call her 'Mom' instead of 'Sister' was traumatizing enough, not to even mention her lack of schooling or social outing.

Annie slowly sipped her beer again, cringing a bit at the liquid and its warmth and glanced over at Brady again, who was back to sipping his own beer and listening in on a conversation with Major Cleven, Major Egan, Crosby and Bubbles. A small smile hit her cheeks as she watched him laugh, something about him magnetic and touching all at once.

"Hey. Bradshaw." Annie looked over at Major Egan and watched as he leaned beside her, wrapping an arm around her chair and pointing to the beer, "Just. Let me know if you don't end up finishing that up. I could take it off your hands, easy." Annie watched him for a moment.

"Are you really that much of a fan of warm beer, sir?" Egan let out a dry chuckle and shrugged.

"You gotta go where the getting is good, I guess. And what else is around here except empty fucking fields and trees every square mile. A warm beer at this point is a good beer." Annie let out a laugh and slid it towards him.

"All yours." she said, "I don't drink much anyway."

"Ahhh, hey Buck, you got a fellow Saint here," Egan said, leaning over to Major Cleven and wrapping an arm around his shoulders, "she don't do much drinking either. Maybe you two can both go taking shots of water together." Major Cleven let out a chuckle as Annie rolled her eyes the slightest bit and caught Brady's slightly cold stare at Egan - but Annie didn't really care.

From the interactions she'd had with Egan, it was all in good fun - he was all in good fun. He was always looking for fun, a distraction from war. She didn't mind.

She liked the two Majors - Buck and Bucky - they'd been sweet as anything, with a bit more jeering from Egan if she was telling the truth. But they seemed to understand what it meant to have an all-female crew in the group and she appreciated that. It meant that when Birdie had been here, they had looked out for her, too, and with her, they were making sure of it.

"Hey, Bradshaw, you want a Coca-Cola?" Annie looked over at Brady leaning towards her, with a thumb jabbed over his shoulder to the bar, "Since someone took your beer-"

"Sure." Annie said, looking at him, while waving off Egan who was looking ready to start singing a musical nearly, "It's all good….I'm not a fan of beer much anyway. Here and there." Brady smiled at her, the corner of his lip curling upwards into a near-wider grin.

"Warm beer just doesn't do the trick, like beer back home, huh?"

"You got that right." Brady chuckled.

"I'll be back-"

"I can get it." Annie said, her hand jutting out to stop him by the arm, but he turned to her and offered her up a wink before heading off.

Annie watched him go before turning slowly back to the table and finding Francis watching her from across the table. She raised a brow. Annie couldn't contain the smirk and shook her head. Francis chuckled. By this point in time, she'd never felt more comfortable in a group of people and in a bomber group.

Maybe flying B-17s had always been her ultimate goal, despite everything in her life up to this point in time. Maybe all her reckless youth and sped-up childhood was for this. To come into this moment in time as a Lieutenant in the Army Air Force, with the title of command pilot for an all-female group. Maybe that's what all along, everything was coming to a head as. Maybe for once in her life, she was earning something instead of giving. Maybe she was doing it all at once.

Maybe.

Life seemed to be full of maybes at this point - and maybe, she was okay with that for now.

#birdie faulkner mention -> SCREAMS #she was so cool #but she's the catalyst for the entirety of the story so :'(#annie bradshaw #francis montez #john brady #john egan #bucky egan #buck cleven #gale cleven #curt biddick #benny demarco #masters of the air #mota #mota writings #silver bullets #birdie faulkner #and ya know what ->#annie x brady #because its early days for them but its THEREEEE #this was sitting on my doc for A MONTH AND A HALF AND I FINALLY COULD DO SOMETHING WITH IT #thank youuuuuuuu!!!! ;D #this was so much fun #i was trying to find ways to work birdie in because she really is the reason this whole story and play by play exists and THIS!!!#this is where she works herself in super well - she's really such an important aspect of the story despite her no appearances #she's always mentioned always thought of #she named silver bullets for crying out loud!!! (birdie u will always be icon in my eyes)but annie bradshaw does a stellar job in your shoe #i hope you all ENJOYYYYYY #also annie bradshaw continued-fleshed-out-background (poor girl needs a HUG)#ALSO HI BRADY

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squishmyster · 2 days

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Crazy, he calls me

Cooper Howard could be described as a husband, father, and a prolific actor but what happens when it all starts crumbling under his feet and one of the only things to give him fresh air is you. His co-worker and one of his closest friends. Will everything including your relationship fail or will it be the one thing that survives even a nuclear fallout.

Authors Notes: HELLO ALL THIS IS MY FIRST FIC SERIES...very much a slow burn...ANY CONSTRUCTIVE CRTICSIM IS WELCOME AND I HOPE YOU AAL ENJOY!!!! OH AND ITS IN THE FIRST PERSON.... Warnings: Mentions of dying parent! Prologue~~~ Reunion MASTERLIST

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Chapter 1~~~ Give Me the Simple Life

The First time that I met Cooper was during the war while I was a medic. We never really said much except a few polite waves and hello's that then turned into polite conversations and heartfelt talks. After the war, we came across each other on the set of A Man and His Dog.

Arriving earlier than planned to the studio I get out of my car and walk to set I can't help but feel a little sad seeing how this is the smallest role yet but no matter how much I've done as an actress a gig like this is just what I need right now low stress and good pay. Even if I have money saved up I have to pay for my sick parents' medical fees and if I don't work I'll be bankrupt by the time I'm thirty. So I put on a smile, straighten my back, remind myself that I haven't been doing this too long, and make my way inside politely waving and saying hello to anyone I come across.

After a quick debrief we were told to wait for the rest of the cast and crew to get there. As I was sitting off to the side nursing a very bleak coffee I started people watching taking note of who was talking to who. Looking between small groups of people and watching their mannerisms. That was until my eyes landed on him the man of the hour himself Cooper Howard. Smile shining, eyes bright and full of life. I couldn't stop myself from starring taking in all his dashing features and then we locked eyes it felt like my breath was stolen from me and all I could do was give him a small smile and wave before taking a sip of coffee in my hand which I quickly regretted forgetting that it tasted like burnt rubber and sugar.

Before I could even look up I felt a small tap on my shoulders and heard the voice of the man I was once very close to. "Hey, long time no see". Looking up at him I smile and give him a slight nod. "Long time no see Cooper, how's life treating you?". seeing him up close is almost refreshing, to say the least after having not talked or seen him after his honorable discharge from the military... it feels like I found something I lost a long time ago. "Hm well... life's been pretty good to me so far, especially since I get to spend a lot more time with my daughter Janey, and what about you?".

Hearing the light that comes to his voice at the mention of his daughter I smile and can't help it when my mind tries to envision him being a dotting father. Slightly embarrassed I down the rest of my coffee and take a glance looking for a nearby trashcan to discard the cup leaving Coopers lingering glances along my figure and the slight smirk on his face go unnoticed. " That's great I'm glad to hear things have been going well for you... as for me well things are great". Deciding it wouldn't be appropriate to spring family problems on him seeing as it's been years since we have seen each other I keep my answer short and sweet with a billion-dollar smile to match.

Standing as poise as possible I place the empty paper cup on a table close by and straighten out my dress making sure any visible wrinkles like radium in face cream. "Well-". Before Cooper could say another word we were being called to go to get ready to shoot for something that should be a nerve-racking day being my first time around most of these people but I didn't feel nervous if anything I felt excited and maybe it was because I finally have Coop back in my life but I'm gonna disregard that and just say the excitement is no different this time than any other time I've been excited about a movie I'm acting in.

Saying our goodbyes Cooper gives me a charming smile before turning to leave while I grab the almost forgotten cup and throw it away in the nearby trashcan. After an hour in the hair and makeup chair, my mind drifts to my mother and how she's doing even if it feels like a worthless thought seeing as she's lying in a hospital bed dying and not having been able to see her the past couple of weeks has been harder than I thought. Wishing I could be with her and at least hold her hand through this horrid time. I keep thinking about how I'm failing her by not being by her side and it honestly feels like I'm screaming into a void of emptiness and it's starting to swallow me whole. Holding back tears I try and remind myself that I'm doing this for her no matter how hard it is. Once I'm done with hair and Makeup I head towards the set, push down all former emotions, and plaster on that award-winning Hollywood smile and poised look I'm known for having.

After a long day of shooting, I can say I'm very happy to be out of those hot Western clothes especially since it's a surprisingly humid Tuesday in California. On my way out of the studio, I say my goodbyes my smile is not very forced anymore since I could just go home, check on my mother, and then relax before starting all over again. As I reach my car I hear someone call out my name causing me to turn around but seeing who it was made a smile hit my lips and I lean on the car while he gets closer. " Hey, Cooper... did you need anything?".

He had a slight jog in his step and once he reached me his smile turned wider and he gave me a quick up and down. Sliding one hand in his pocket he pulls out a cigarette case and lighter putting the bud of the cig to his lips with a flick of his thumb light he puts both the case and lighter in the chest pocket of his black suit." Yes I do actually... your number i hate that we lost contact and well isn't this a perfect time to catch up". Hearing him I feel a little shocked and I can't help but think it's not a perfect time for anything in my life and it takes me a few seconds longer than normal to answer.

Noticing the hesitance on my face Cooper makes a face of his own one that almost resembled disappointment or at least that's what it looked like to me so before he could say anything I did. " I wouldn't mind that". Just like that we were exchanging numbers and saying our goodbyes and once I got home I thought about the day I had. Thought about Cooper way more than I'm willing to admit and after doing it for longer than seemed sane. I called my mom we talked for a few hours before I turned in for the night my dreams filled with nothing but stars.

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HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED SAVE A HORSE RIDE A COWBOY AND ALL THAT JAZZ!!!!!

DON'T STEAL MY WORK IF YOU REPOST TAG ME!!! thanks.

Thanks for reading from Squish<3

#cooper howard x female reader #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #cooper howard smut #cooper howard #fallout tv series #the ghoul x you #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul fallout

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eddiezpaghetti · 4 months

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Okay, so my experience with Stranger Things is a weird one.

I didn't care when it first came out, started to watch it out of "might as well" in 2020, wasn't interested in it enough to make it past S2, forgot about it outside of going "oh, hey, cool, there's a lesbian in it now, I guess," in S3, got really annoyed when "Running Up That Hill" got popular from it because it was a song I listened to on fucking loop after one of my best friends died in high school and I fully expected its appearance in the show to ignore the whole survivor's guilt theme of the song (and was very happy to learn later that it did the exact opposite of ignoring the lyrics), saw people drawing Eddie, suddenly got a lot more interested, watched just the fourth season like a fucking psychopath because I was seriously only there for Eddie, then got interested enough to start the show over properly, having mostly forgotten what I did watch of the show before.

And let me tell you something from the perspective of someone who started with the complete fourth season, who wasn't there from the start, who wasn't tainted by ship goggles or this internal battle of hope and despair, who wasn't theorizing about what the painting could be or expecting Mike and Will to kiss when Volume 2 happened or rooting for Mike and Eleven's relationship to go down in flames or whatever the fuck. Just someone who went blind into Season 4.

It's really fucking obvious that Will and Mike are gonna be endgame.

Like holy fuck. It's so fucking blatant I don't even know why people are nervous.

No sane fucking person would shoot this scene this way if they wanted the audience to care about El and Mike as a couple. Despite being all blurry in the background, Will's reaction to what's happening here is smackdab in the fucking middle, clearly showing that the important part is what's going through his head here. What he's feeling. It's like the opposite of that scene from Kingdom Hearts II where Sora and Riku reunite and Kairi just fucking vanishes into the aether while it's happening because, despite the fact that she was standing between them when the scene began, she doesn't matter to the scene, so she's just kind of gone when the camera angle changes. Will could have been behind one of their heads, or so far in the distance he blends in with the background, but he's not. He's so obvious that despite being massively blurred out, he's still the first goddamn thing you look at. What, you think that's an accident? You think he's in the middle of this dramatic fucking scene because of a mistake? He basically has a big flashing neon arrow pointing at him with "THIS IS THE POINT" being screamed through a megaphone.

And then this?

They're paired up like they're taking fucking prom pictures. Each one of these pairs is so fucking close to one another and so fucking far from everyone else. It's not, "Oh, they're standing vaguely near each other in a group shot," it's fucking Noah's Ark out here. Again, there's no way to take this as an accident. It's not just a framing issue. If they wanted to make the shot look balanced while still not hiding anyone else behind El, they would have scattered people around much more naturally. Even if they wanted to keep Nancy with Jonathan and Hopper with Joyce, there's so much room on that hill for three people to stand on El's left and three on her right. But they didn't do that. They put Mike and Will together on purpose in the most obvious way possible.

Like I get that coming up with crackpot theories is fun in and of itself and I'm not blaming anyone for having fun. I totally get the appeal of arguing a point and reaching for every stupid little thing to pull into it because it's like a game, okay? I've done that. But if you're trying to actually convince someone (whether it's someone who wants to believe or someone who's pissed at the very idea that Mike and Will could be in love), stay away from blue and yellow lights, stay away from costume design, stay away from the existence of closets in backgrounds. And don't worry about whether Mike's gay or bi when he's in love with Will either way. I'll give you a little tip about persuasion: You're only as strong as your weakest argument. Even if you've got strong stuff in there, too, the person you're trying to convince is going to dismiss anything you say as complete insanity the second you start going on an entire tangent about the shape of a character's fucking pocket.

Sometimes, clothes are just clothes. Sometimes, there's a closet in the background because it helps establish that a character is in a bedroom. Sometimes, blue and yellow are just a couple of colors that look nice together. And sure, it might be set designers and costume designers and cinematographers smirking and winking at the audience from behind the camera. But if the show was just those things, instead of those things in the context of everything else, they wouldn't be saying anything of note.

But this?

This tells a story all on its own. Someone with no context can look at this and automatically assume that each paired person is standing with someone they care about deeply, seeking comfort as they watch some sort of disaster unfold. And yeah, romantic couples usually come in twos, and we live in an amatonormative society, so that's going to be the first association anyone makes seeing a bunch of people paired off.

It's the same reason you look at this

And go, "Oh..."

"Those two are probably a couple."

And I genuinely don't understand how people could have watched S4 Vol. 2 and gotten scared. Because as someone who went in with no investment whatsoever, I just looked at these two--

--and went, "Oh, those two are a couple. Good for them." And I moved on. Shut up about the trees for five seconds and just see the forest for what it is.

Oh, and if you're still nervous? Little thing from a storyteller here: You don't leave a hanging thread like "Will confessed his romantic feelings for Mike by projecting them onto El, but Mike either didn't understand or at least didn't say he understood," without coming back to that later. That's Chekov's gun hanging on the wall, babes. It's gonna fire at some point. If Mike was going to reject Will's feelings, if they weren't relevant, they would have had that discussion in Argyle's van. There'd be no reason to leave you in suspense.

#byler #meta #stranger things #theory #I mean I fucking guess #in the same way gravity is a fuckin' theory.#It feels silly that I even have to say this honestly.#Watching people freak out over these two feels like I'm being pranked.#Like you guys aren't pulling a Goncharov are you? Just making believe there's any chance these two aren't gonna be endgame?#Like completely ironically? And I'm too autistic to catch it?#It genuinely feels like I'm explaining that red and blue make purple here. As if you guys should have learned this in kindergarten.#Or like watching whole-ass adults watch Cinderella for the first time and being on the edge of their seat #wondering if she's going to live happily ever after with the prince or not.#It feels like I'm talking DOWN to people and I don't WANT it to feel like that but it's so obvious and I don't want people to be like #anxious for no reason you know?#Like I get that we're all scarred from queerbaiting and I know you guys are biased from years of shipping these kids.#But like. These guys? The most obvious 'there's only one way this could go' couple I've ever seen? You're scared about THEM?

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