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mads-weasley · 2 years

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Days Like This

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Wife!Reader

Masterlist

A/N: Thanks for the request, anon! I hope you like what I've written even though it's super late and super short! Thanks for the support!

Request: Could you do one were rooster and reader are both pilots but reader has the day off, rooster comes home from a really bad day at work and just wants to cry it out in readers arms and then reader makes him feel better… love you work

Warnings: mentions of fighter crash, sad bradley, fluff

Just like every day for the past three years, at 5am sharp, the bed dipped down next to (y/n) as Bradley sleepily got up to get ready for work. As both were pilots, they had to be at the base by 6:30am every weekday. This day, however, she did not have to join him. A dentist appointment saved her from having to complete their early morning routine, but it didn't stop her from waking up.

As Bradley opened the door to the bathroom, he was careful to keep the light off until he got inside, not wanting to accidentally wake her. Snuggling under her covers, she tried to go back to sleep. After a few minutes of tossing and turning, her husband's quiet humming floated in the air from the shower. As she focused on the sound, sleep welcomed her quickly.

When he was ready for work, Rooster smoothed (y/n)'s hair back lovingly, kissing her on the temple.

"I love you, baby. I'll miss you today."

She stirred slightly. "Luh' you too."

(Y/n) walked through the door of their house, running her tongue over her slick and fresh minty teeth when her stomach rumbled. She checked her watch: 4:45 pm. Bradley normally got home around 5:30, so (y/n) began to search the cabinets for food to cook.

By the time she heard his keys jingle in the door, the food was done and she was setting the table. When the door opened, she smiled and called over her shoulder.

"Hey, Brad! I made spaghetti, and I kno-"

She trailed off when she heard the dull thump of his bag hitting the floor. Turning around, she was met with her husband's broad chest as he wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck. Instinctually, she rubbed his back with one hand while the other combed through his curly brown hair. They stayed like that for a while until (y/n) felt his shoulders shake softly.

The woman's heart broke at the sound of Bradley's broken sobs against her neck. Something was definitely wrong, and she had to find out what so she could help him however she could. Pulling away, she grabbed his hand and led him over to the couch. His soft brown eyes were bloodshot and puffy, which was a rare sight for Bradley. Even as someone who had a big soft side, he tended to keep his emotions in check. That was how (y/n) knew something was seriously wrong.

Sitting on the couch, she pulled him down to sit beside her before pulling him closer so she could hook her arm around his bicep, rubbing it lightly.

"What happened, Bradley?" She asked softly.

"I-uh," he sniffled. "Today we were doing a training mission and Phoenix and Bob...there was a bird strike."

(Y/n) took a deep breath, bracing herself for the words that could come next.

Bradley squeezed his eyes shut as his voice wavered. "They were going down and-and when they ejected, I saw Nat h-hit the canopy, (y/n/n). I saw her."

(Y/n)'s eyes teared up, finally understanding why this affected him so much. It was the same way his dad died: hitting the canopy while ejecting.

"Oh, sweetheart," she whispered, pulling him into her arms. "Is she okay?"

His only answer was a small whimper. "They're both gonna be okay, but...I just can't lose anyone else, (y/n). I can't. Especially not like that."

"I know. And you won't."

He shakily sighed. "Can you just hold me?"

"Of course, baby. I love you." (Y/n) smiled, running her fingers through his hair before leaning down to kiss his temple.

"I love you, too."

"I'll always be here on days like this, Bradley. Always."

That night, dinner was forgotten in the Bradshaw house as the couple soon fell asleep on the couch, fully content to be in each other's arms.

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mads-nixon · 7 months

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Epiphany Pt. 12: You're On Your Own, Kid

Lewis Nixon x Reader

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Title inspo - you're on your own, kid: taylor swift

A/N: this is my first post on my hbo war side-blog! yay! this chapter is the calm before the storm, y'all. this is about the fictional portrayal of easy company on the show. nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog!

Word Count: 4.1k

Summary: Ill-equipped and poorly supplied, (y/n) and the rest of Easy do their best to survive in the frozen Ardennes Forest of Bastogne.

Warnings: description of injury, very soft lew

December 20, 1944: Ardennes Forest, Belgium

The forest lay under a heavy blanket of snow, the silence only broken by the occasional gust of icy wind, quiet conversations, and the all-to-familiar whistling of incoming shells. (Y/n) sat on the edge of her foxhole, her breath visible in the cold air as she gazed out at the German line. Through the veil of swirling snow, she couldn’t make out their silhouettes, but she knew they were there. It was a landscape of paradoxes: serene yet charged, beautiful yet deadly.

With her gaze still fixed in the white haze, she felt a surge of frustration and anger rise in her. It was fueled by the knowledge that the Krauts had the supplies that they desperately needed. It was a cruel twist of fate that Easy was hungry, cold, and struggling, while the enemy, albeit just across the way, had the sustenance and warmth they lacked. They had a few missed supply drops to thank for that.

The air was frigid, cutting through layers of clothing and seeping into her very bones. (Y/n) hugged herself, arms wrapping tightly around her body in a futile attempt to capture a semblance of warmth. Her gloved fingers, numbed by the cold, clutched at the fabric of her uniform, seeking refuge in the familiar touch.

“(Y/n), remind me to never complain about the heat again,” Skip jested through chattering teeth, a weak smile attempting to mask his discomfort.

“Yeah, this makes those Georgia summers seem downright pleasant,” Don added with a forced chuckle, the words barely leaving his blue-tinted lips.

Skip waved a hand in front of (y/n)’s distant gaze, breaking her trance and pulling her back to reality. “Earth to (y/n). You with us?”

Shaking from her thoughts, she turned towards the group, forcing a chapped smile. “Yeah,” she muttered, pushing herself up from where she sat in the foxhole, trying to get blood circulating in her numbed limbs. “I’ll be back.”

“Don’t get lost out there,” Malarkey called out, his voice tinged with concern as she swung her rifle onto her shoulder.

“A walk in a winter wonderland,” Skip chimed in, his grin mischievous as he wiggled his eyebrows. “Is that code for, ‘going to see your favorite captain’ by any chance?”

A playful scoff escaped her lips in a huff. “Shut up, Muck. I can’t feel my toes, so I’m going for a walk to fix that.”

Malarkey shrugged, feigning innocence. “Yeah, sure. Have fun on your walk.”

The woman shook her head fondly at her friends as she slowly walked away from the foxhole. Her limbs didn’t want to work correctly, so she found herself doing a pitiful half-limp around the forest as she attempted to get some blood flowing to her feet.

Despite her and Nix’s efforts to be discreet, the Toccoa men who had watched them from the beginning couldn’t be fooled. While nothing was openly acknowledged, there was a shared understanding that something was going on between the couple. Only Harry and Dick knew for certain, and only because they grilled Lew when he returned from Paris.

Maybe she would pay her favorite Captain a visit.

“Hey, Cripple!” someone called out. Groaning, (y/n) turned to face the voice, ready to retort when the very ground beneath her seemed to tremble and shudder violently. An explosion erupted from behind her, a deafening roar as the shockwave threw her off balance, sending her to the ground in a heap.

She curled into a protective ball, her hands instinctively shielding her head as the world was swallowed by chaos. The relentless barrage of mortars painted the sky, their descent announced by menacing whistles. The once serene forest became a frenzied battleground, trees splintering and snow erupting into wild flurries.

Amidst the disarray, a call pierced through the mayhem. “(Y/l/n)! Over here!”

Scrambling to her feet, her heart raced with adrenaline and drowned out the pounding explosions. She didn’t spare a moment to see who called, her focus solely on getting to cover. (Y/n) snatched up her rifle from the snow-covered ground and sprinted towards the direction of the voice, her heavy breaths misting in the frigid air.

As she ran, her foot caught a fallen tree branch and she was sent tumbling into the freezing embrace of the forest floor, awkwardly landing on her arm. Pain flared in her wrist as she fought to get to her feet, panicking at being exposed without cover. Then, like a savior, a hand extended towards her and hauled her into a nearby foxhole.

Joe Liebgott’s face appeared in front of her, and his eyes reflected the same fear and helplessness that she felt. She let go of her rifle, allowing it to rest in the snow as she clamped her hands over her ears, desperate to drown out the deafening noise that assaulted her senses. (Y/n) clenched her eyes closed, seeing refuge in the darkness as Joe pulled her tightly into his body, shielding her from the relentless barrage. The concussive blasts continued, each one sending shockwaves through the ground and dirt, snow, and ice raining down on them. She held on, feeling the frantic rise and fall of Joe’s chest against her, praying that it would all stop soon.

Seconds, minutes, hours, (y/n) didn’t know how much time had passed when the earth-shattering blasts ceased. A few gentle pats on her helmet were the only indication it was over. Slowly, she released her grip on her ears, the painful ringing subsiding to the backdrop of her ragged breaths as she looked up at him with wide eyes.

“You alright?” Joe asked, his concerned gaze scanning her for injuries.

(Y/n) nodded, wincing as she flexed her wrist, attempting to brush off the debris clinging to her skin. “I’m okay.”

His eyes narrowed, shifting from her face to her arm and then back again. “You sure?”

“I just landed on it weird,” she replied, clenching her teeth against the searing pain that radiated up her arm with every movement.

“Let me get Doc, (y/n),” he offered, about to get up, but her good arm shot up and pulled him back down.

Sitting up, she carefully retrieved her rifle and climbed out of the foxhole, cradling her aching wrist to her chest. “I’m fine, Joe. Thank you, but I need to check on my foxhole.”

“Alright, be careful,” he called after her as she made her way back toward her foxhole, her chest tight with anxiety. As the shock and adrenaline from the bombardment began to fade, the reality of (y/n)’s situation settled in: her wrist was not just a minor discomfort. What had initially felt like a sharp jab upon impact turned into a persistent, gnawing pain radiating from her wrist and traveling up her arm like tendrils of fire.

Each movement she made, whether to clutch her rifle or steady herself against the uneven ground, sent surges of pain shooting through her hand and forearm. With each passing second, the pain seemed to intensify, becoming an unrelenting companion in the desolate frozen landscape. Her fingers, once nimble and deft in handling her rifle, now felt like lead, unresponsive and clumsy. The smallest tasks, like brushing off the clinging snow or gripping her canteen, became monumental efforts, each movement a harsh reminder of the shelling. A simple flex of her wrist, something that she took for granted in the past, was now an act that set off sharp jolts of pain. (Y/n) found herself trying to ignore the pain, focusing on the task at hand, but the throbbing in her arm seemed to pulse in sync with her heartbeat, making it impossible to overlook. She knew she should probably see Roe about it, but she heard he didn’t have much to work with. So, she made the choice not to burden their already diminished supplies on what was likely just a sprain.

After a while, she found herself approaching the spot she’d left Malarkey and Skip, scanning the area for signs of life. The once-snow-draped ground was now a maze of impact craters and debris. As she reached the foxhole, her heart swelled with relief seeing Skip and Don huddled inside, still in one piece.

“Hey,” she called out, her voice cutting through the eerie calm. Relief washed over her as they looked up, their faces lighting up at the sight of her.

“(Y/n/n)!” Don exclaimed, a hand clutching his chest dramatically. “We were worried!”

Muck tossed his helmet towards her, a hint of concern on his face. The helmet collided with her wrist, causing her to stifle a cry. “Take a look at this crap, (y/n). They peppered my helmet!”

Gently cradling her wrist, she examined the shot-up helmet in her lap, a half smile playing on her lips. “Good thing you weren’t wearing it, Skip. Was everyone okay over here? I ended up in Lieb’s foxhole.”

“Wasted my dagum coffee,” Smokey lamented from the foxhole ahead of theirs. “It was a whole helmet-full, too.”

A chuckle bubbled from her lips as she watched him setting his contraption back up. “I’m sorry, Smoke. Next time, you should tell the krauts to wait until you’ve had your coffee to shell the crap out of us.”

“You know, I might just do that,” Smokey mused, staring out at the German line with a faraway look. “We need a break.”

“Oh, (y/n),” Don interjected, fishing for something in his pockets. “Do you have any morphine in your aid kit from Holland? Doc’s looking for some.”

“Mine got used up when I got hit,” she replied, her mind drifting back to that night outside Arnhem. “That feels like so long ago now.”

Skip, ever the calculating one, counted on his fingers thoughtfully. “It’s only been what, three months?”

“Yeah,” she murmured, staring into the forest as she contemplated the whirlwind of events since that time. Between getting shot, going to the hospital, then Paris with Lew, and now Bastogne, a lot happened in those three months.

Their conversation carried on, but (y/n) was lost in her thoughts. Her life had changed drastically in this span of time, the most significant development being her newfound relationship with Lewis. A mere week and a half had passed since Paris, yet it felt like a lifetime. Memories of the quaint cafes and charming streets danced in her mind, a reminder of what they were fighting for…a return to a life untouched by the horrors of war.

A crunch of snow behind her snapped her back to the present. She grabbed her rifle, swiftly turning, a surge of pain shooting up her arm. A grimace contorted her face as she eased the strain, her aim dropping as she recognized Lip.

“(Y/n), Winters wants to see you,” he relayed, crouching beside her.

“We’ll catch up later, alright?” Don patted her shoulder gently, a worried look in his gaze as he looked down at her wrist.

“Duty calls, boys. See ya later.”

She pushed herself off the snow with her good hand and started following Lip toward Captain Winter’s tent. As they walked, she saw the destruction the various shellings had left in their wake. Trees were downed everywhere, feet-long splinters littered the snow, and there was the occasional red stain of blood on the white ground.

“Can you believe it’s just a few days till Christmas?” Lip’s voice broke the silence, filled with nostalgia and yearning.

She nodded, a bittersweet smile playing on her lips. “It’s hard to believe, isn’t it? I remember my last Christmas home so vividly…and now, here we are two years later.”

He glanced at her, a fond smile on his face, despite the flicker of sorrow in his eyes. “My wife, JoAnne, makes the best gingerbread cookies on the planet, and I can just see her in the kitchen, working her tail off to make them for our family Christmas party.”

(Y/n)’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “What I wouldn’t give for some gingerbread cookies,” she sighed. “It’s just…well, being away from family at this time, it’s tough. But at least we have each other, right?”

“Yeah,” he replied, nodding ahead of him. “Here we are.”

“Thanks for walking with me, Lip,” (y/n) grinned, approaching the foxhole.

“You’re welcome,” Carwood grinned. “And (y/n), get that wrist checked out.”

Her mouth slightly agape, she looked at him in disbelief. “What?”

“I’m not as clueless as the others. Get it looked at.” His eyes held a genuine concern.

Nodding at him, she walked up to the hole where Dick was crouched, writing a letter. “Captain Winters, sir?”

He looked up from his letter, and an uncharacteristic smirk formed on his face when he recognized her. “(Y/n). Nix wanted to speak with you.”

A flush colored her cheeks as she stood there. “Oh, alright. Where is he?”

Winters nodded to the hole ahead of him. “I’m right here, so please don't try any-”

A blanket was thrown off the adjacent foxhole and Nixon popped out, his dark hair a mess atop his head. “Gosh, Dick, we’re not gonna do anything,” he hissed, rolling his eyes.

Embarrassment coursed through (y/n) at the implication, and she brought a hand to her face, wishing she could disappear. “Yes sir,” she stammered, her voice slightly uneasy as she walked over to Lewis.

“Are you crazy?” she asked, casting anxious glances around the forest.

Nix shrugged and pointed to Winters. “We’re fine. Dick’s gonna keep a lookout…right Dick?”

“I’m going to be writing my letter,” Winters replied, not looking up. “And I’m not seeing this.”

“Thanks, pal,” Lew called, extending a hand to help (y/n) into the hole.

“Alright,” she muttered, unable to keep a nervous smile from playing on her lips a the thought of some time with him. She started to take his hand with her hurt one, but quickly switched hands, letting the other painfully dangle at her side. He gave her a questioning look as she took his hand, but (y/n) just shook her head, dismissing his concern. To her surprise, he seemed to let it go.

Nix’s foxhole was a decent size, and (y/n) carefully tried to settle against his side without showing her injury. He pulled the blanket over the top of the hole, insulating the space and giving them a sliver of privacy. Looking around, she spotted an empty pack of Lucky Strikes and his silver flask in the dirt beside her.

“I really like what you did with the place,” she grinned, kicking the empty box with her foot.

Lew chuckled, snaking an arm around her waist and pulling her close, placing a soft kiss in her hair. “Yeah. Interior decorating was always Blanche’s thing.”

His warmth seeped through her frozen uniform, and she sighed contentedly, resting her head on her shoulder as she closed her eyes. The throbbing pain in her hand seemed to slightly fade in his comforting presence.

“How are things on the line? We still get artillery back here, but it’s not as bad as up there,” he asked quietly, leaning his head atop hers.

“It’s not good, Lew,” she mumbled into his neck. “We’re running low on everything, and the krauts seem to have an endless stream of artillery. It’s like they’re not even affected by the cold or anything. We’re just holding our ground and doing what we can.”

He tightened his grip around her, attempting to offer some comfort. “But you’re holding up okay?”

A half-hearted smile tugged at her lips, tinged with sadness. “We’re surviving, but it’s getting harder every day. The men are tired, Lew. We’re all tired. We’re all hungry. We’re all cold.”

“I know, doll,” he sighed. “Sink and General McAuliffe stopped by earlier, and they didn’t have any good news. Last night, I took a walk on the line at about 0300 and I couldn’t find the 501st on our right flank. I had to pull in 2nd platoon to fill the gap, but the General seemed like he couldn't care less.”

(Y/n) groaned. “His relentless optimism kills me. At least Sink is realistic.”

“‘Hold the line and close the gaps’, was all he said. And that 1st battalion just pulled out of Foy with krauts on their tail…so there’s a bunch of crap coming our way.”

“Of course there is,” she grumbled, bringing her knees up to her chest.

Lew’s thoughts became consumed by worry for (y/n) and what was going to be thrown her way. He gently traced circles on her back, trying to find the right words. “I can’t help but be worried about you, (y/n/n). Knowing you’re out there every time I hear a shelling, it’s…it’s tough.”

She sat up and turned to face him, her eyes reflecting the same fear. “I know, Lew. I’m scared, too. But I’m doing what I can to take care of myself and the guys. We watch out for each other.”

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration clear in his voice. “It’s just hard being here, not able to do much, not even being able to be with you when you’re out there facing the worst of it.”

“You’re doing more than you think,” she said, gently touching his arm. “This helps me so much.”

Lew brushed a loose strand of hair away from her face, his cold fingers gentle on her warm cheek. “Promise me you’ll be careful,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t take any extra risks…please.”

(Y/n) looked into his eyes, finding a sea of emotion. “I promise,” she replied, her voice equally soft.

Nix leaned in, slowly closing the distance between them, his eyes flickering to her lips before meeting her gaze once more. Their lips met in a soft, tender kiss as Lew cupped her cheek. Time seemed to slow down as they kissed, a sense of calm washing over them. As they pulled away, their foreheads rested against each other, their breaths mingling in the chilly air.

“Have you been able to keep warm at all?” Lew asked softly, his fingers tracing over her gloved hand gently.

(Y/n) nodded, trying to keep her discomfort at bay. “As warm as one can be out here.”

Lew noticed her wincing slightly and, concerned, his hand unintentionally brushed against her injured wrist. She gasped, tears brimming her eyes as pain shot through her arm.

His eyes widened, fear coursing through him as he quickly retracted his hand “(Y/n)? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

(Y/n) leaned her head back against the hard wall of dirt behind her with a thud. “I tripped during the shelling earlier and landed on it wrong,” she whispered, voice trembling as she cradled her wrist.

“(Y/n),” Lew sighed, his heart aching at her pain. “Have you seen Doc?”

She shook her head, tears welling up. “No, not yet.”

He reached for her hand slowly. “Let me see it, sweetheart. I’ll be careful.”

She hesitantly extended her gloved hand to him, a single tear leaking down her rosy cheek. “You’re okay,” he cooed, holding her forearm with one hand while the other carefully slid the glove off.

“Shit,” Lew muttered, his brows furrowing at the sight of her wrist. “This is bad, (y/n).”

His concern deepened as he saw the extent of the injury. He had expected it to be sore, maybe a minor sprain, but what he saw made his heart clench with worry and anger. Her once delicate wrist was now swollen to nearly twice its usual size, the skin on her palm and wrist discolored in ominous hues of deep purple and angry black.

“(Y/n/n),” he said gently, his voice soothing to her distress. “We need to get you to Doc. This could be broken.”

The tears finally fell from her eyes in a mixture of pain and frustration. “I know,” she whispered, her voice quivering. “But the medics are already low on supplies, and they need that for others that are worse off.”

Lew cupped her cheek tenderly, wiping away a tear with his thumb. “Just because someone may be worse, doesn’t mean you can’t be looked after, too. Let me take care of you, please.”

(Y/n)’s expression softened, touched by his sincerity. “Okay,” she nodded. “Thank you.”

He held her wrist gently, a tenderness in his eyes that melted her worries, even if just for a moment. He brushed a feather-light kiss on her injured wrist, a silent promise that he’d take care of her. Nix helped her slide the glove back on, ensuring it offered some support for her wrist. He then threw off the blanket and helped her to her feet, his arm securely around her for support. She wasn’t going to let her injury hold her back, but she knew she needed to get it checked before it got any worse.

Winter’s eyes widened at the pair’s dramatic exit from the foxhole. “You alright, (y/l/n)?” he asked, eyes furrowed in confusion.

“She hurt her wrist,” Lew replied, glancing at Dick who nodded in response. “We’re finding Roe.”

They found Gene in his foxhole, staring off into the forest, a cigarette hanging from his lips. “Hey Gene,” Nix called, catching the man off guard. He jumped slightly, turning around like a deer in headlights.

He sighed seeing who it was. “Captain Nixon, what can I do for ya, sir?”

“(Y/n) here took a tumble during the shelling. Her wrist is pretty banged up.”

Roe nodded, motioning for her to sit down on the edge of the foxhole. “Let’s have a look, chérie.

She did as told, taking a deep breath to brace herself for any pain. The cajun carefully peeled off the glove from her injured hand, revealing the purple and black bruises. The medic furrowed his brows at the sight, his experienced eyes evaluating the damage. He lightly prodded along the wrist, feeling for any unusual shifts in the bones beneath.

“I’m worried there might be a hairline fracture here,” he explained, his voice carrying a tinge of concern. “But I can’t confirm it without a proper x-ray, and we don’t have any equipment like that back in Bastogne.”

(Y/n) nodded, bracing herself for what she knew was coming. “So, what can we do?”

Roe began to secure her wrist carefully with a makeshift splint, wrapping it snugly to provide some stability and reduce the risk of further damage. “Right now, we’ll immobilize it as best as we can. I’ll wrap it up, and you need to keep it still as much as possible. Ice will help with the swelling.”

Smirking at the situation, (y/n) couldn’t resist a touch of humor. “Well, at least we’ve got an abundance of ice around,” she quipped, waving her good hand at the frozen forest surrounding them. “Nature’s icebox, right?”

Lew chuckled at her attempt to lighten the mood. “The best ice supply in Bastogne,” he replied, playing along.

As Gene finished the wrapping, she flexed her fingers slightly, testing the newfound stability. The pain had dulled a bit, and it was a relief, albeit a temporary one. They thanked Roe and went on their way.

“I’ve got to go back to the boys,” she said, peering up at him as they walked.

Lew nodded. “Take it easy, alright? Your arm can’t heal if you keep using it.”

“Yes, sir, Doctor Nixon,” she grinned, fake saluting him with a playful twinkle in her eyes.

They made their way to her foxhole, and Lew resisted the urge to give her a kiss, aware of the many eyes watching. Instead, he gently patted her helmet, a gesture that he’d decided was his new favorite because it sent the front of it down past her eyes.

“Malarkey,” Nix called out, waving his over. “Don’t let this one overdo it. Roe said she needs to take it easy.”

Though he was confused, Don nodded. “Yes, sir.”

With a subtle wink, Lew turned and left for his own foxhole.

“What happened to you?” Skip asked, eyeing her wrapped wrist as he appeared next to Don. “Did the Captain take care of you?”

(Y/n) laughed under her breath, watching Lew’s figure disappear into the white haze of the forest. “I’m alright.”

Malarkey’s eyes widened as he turned to Muck. “She’s not denying it, Skip!”

“I knew it!” Skip exclaimed triumphantly, the corners of his mouth curling into a grin. She began to walk away when Don gasped suddenly.

“We have to tell you about Hinkle!”

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bizarrelittlemew · 29 days

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i can't wait to be 30+ and still in fandom and i can't wait to be 40+ and still in fandom and i can't wait to be 50+ and still in fandom and i can't wait to be 60+ and still in fandom and i can't wait to be 70+ and still in fandom and i can't wait to be 80+ and still in fandom and i can't wait to be 90+ and still in fandom and i can't wait to look back on my life and know that i loved things deeply and passionately and was inspired to create and was part of communities with incredible people from all over the world brought together by the stories that touched us

#and still be mad at shithead executives for unfairly cancelling my pirate show #also imagine what my ao3 word count will be like. gonna be writing my little fics in the nursing home #sometimes when i get frustrated over my writing i have to remember that i've only been doing it for a little over a year #and not in my native language #there is still so much time and so much to learn and try and discover and explore and i am EXCITED #there is something so ancient and beautiful about humans being brought together by stories #storytelling is what humans have always done and will always do and what will always connect us #to our past to the future to each other #sorry for the 1 am ramblings #fandom #🐭📓

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astraltrickster · 1 year

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When you say "even in canon this character is acting OOC" do you mean it as in "this character's canon dropped the ball on internal consistency with them" or do you mean "this character I normally relate to made a decision that I wouldn't have made" or do you mean "this character isn't acting like the fanon we developed by rotating them in our heads for 67295 combined hours away from the source material"?

#fandom #this post brought to you by me getting really mad because canon DID drop the ball on a character's internal consistency #BY trying to make them more like the fanon a subset of fans made by rotating the character in their heads for too long #and i know thats what happened because they keep referencing fandom memes #but thats really hard to talk about because...[gestures vaguely]

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feedingthesimps · 6 months

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Behind the scenes Hannibal Mads smoking

#hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannigram #hannibal fandom #hannibal and will #nbc hannibal #hannigran #behind the scenes #mads mikkelsen #i ❤️ him #<3 #hannibal cast #hanniballlllll #renew hannibal

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filmnoirsbian · 1 year

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People who say 2019 cats is a crazy/weird masterpiece have never seen an actually crazy weird movie in their lives I'm so sick of 2019 cats propaganda it's not even entertaining bad it's literally completely devoid of creativity and artistry and I'm SICK of people acting like its anything more than bad acting and bad cgi the visuals aren't even that weird!! Nothing pisses me off more than someone acting like 2019 cats is anything more than a poorly made normie film. It's a "weird" film for disney fans that's it.

#go watch rubber go watch eraserhead go watch pink flamingos go watch mad god and tbh even THOSE are like. well known weird films.#scratch the surface of weird cinema I'm begging u #tcp #is there a 2019 cats hate fandom im there im in it

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my-castles-crumbling · 5 months

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Sirius, after finding out about Jegulus: How could you do this to me? WHY would you do this to me?

James, distraught: Sirius, I'm so sorry, I didn't think you'd be this-

Sirius, crying: I was supposed to be best man for BOTH of you! Now I only get ONE chance?

Regulus, a bit irritated: Sirius, we've been dating for like two mon-

James, freaking out as well, now: FUCK, you're RIGHT! Oh Merlin, Reg, can we share him? Which side will he stand on? Will he go to both stag parties?

Regulus, leaning into the chaos, absolutely done: Remus is my best man.

Sirius, furious: WHAT?

James, triumphant: YES!

Remus: Absolutely not. I'm not being dragged into this.

Regulus, smirking: You'd walk down the aisle with Sirius.

Remus: ....alright.

James, several hour later: Wait, Reggie, we're getting married?

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thevioletcaptain · 1 year

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i genuinely don't care how good a piece of ai generated art or writing looks on the surface. i don't care if it emulates brush strokes and metaphor in a way indistinguishable from those created by a person.

it is not the product of thoughtful creation. it offers no insights into the creator's life or viewpoint. it has no connection to a moment in time or a place or an attitude. it has no perspective. it has no value.

it's empty, it's hollow, and it exists only to generate clicks (and by extension, ad revenue.)

it's just another revolting symptom of the disease that is late stage capitalism, and it fucking sucks.

#''but i just want to use it to--'' don't care! it's shit! stop fucking feeding it!#if you need help generating ideas or jumping off points then join an artist or writer group online #talk to people #make connections #that's what art and writing is supposed to be about in the first place #i'm mad as hell etc.#so goddamn sick and tired of seeing ai shit get passed around on here #it's bad enough in general but every time i see more of it showing up #tagged as fan art or as fic #the angrier i get #heartfelt imperfection in art and writing will always ALWAYS be worth more than the most technically ''perfect'' ai generated image or text #fandom problems #ai generation algorithms die in a fire challenge 2k23 #just a heads up that i'm muting this post and will no longer see responses to it #because i'm tired of seeing dogshit takes from jackasses who want to ''debate'' me #there's no debate you're in the wrong on literally every level and you can die mad about it

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futureboy · 2 months

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the thing about variety describing warner bros discovery making "unsuccessful attempts to sell the unprofitable fandom" is that this shifts all the blame on the audience. how are you gonna try that with a fandom that crowdfunded films on a record-breaking scale, raised millions for extra life for years and years, and spawned their own fucking convention because RT was so goddamn popular?? insane that poor business restructuring and shitty company practices from WBD is being spun into "our audience didn't give us enough money so unfortunately, we have to sell RWBY (a western show that enjoys enormous popularity in japan despite not being a homegrown anime) and RvB (a show which pioneered machinima as both a genre and medium)"

#rooster teeth #i'm so fucking mad and miserable over this. it didn't have to end like that #tchater #EDIT: WAAHH yes i know what the whole quote is and my point still stands. the whole company was a successful fandom-based entertainment org #it wasn't unprofitable it was poorly managed. rt didn't 'bite the dust' it was canned.#they survived over 2 decades. it wasn't always like this

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destix-art09 · 4 days

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The tragic gays occupying my heart. Artwork by me <3

| "I gave you a rare gift, but you didn't want it."

"Didn't I?"

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hiveswap · 2 months

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Going into any fandom maintag:

Random stranger 1: I NEED his cock [most unfuckable character you've ever seen]

Random stranger 2: hehe cringe doodle [art that belongs in the louvre]

Random stranger 3: dark!divorced!fae!brown eyed!mainguy/reader au where y/n is a horse

Random stranger 4: [explicitly mentally ill character] is so evil. I just don't like him sorry.

Pornbot: pussy wet

Random stranger 5: i need them to cuddle through a cold desert night i need him to break down in tears and i want to be h,

Random stranger 6: i hate shipping [main dude] with [female lead] Obviously the m/m ship is better 😑 btw she is so cool she's the braincell <3 we love a smart queen

Random stranger 7: she's soooo girlie!!! My sweet baby daughter!! [picture of the grown dude protagonist]

Pornbot: literacy rate declining . Fuck my nose

Random stranger 8: [explicitly mentally ill character] is a dog in my au btw :D

#trigun fandom simulator #stranger 5 is valid btw #person 8 is based on someone i saw in the wild btw. im so mad at them

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mads-weasley · 9 months

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Summary: After (y/n) signs up for the WAC's Athena Program, she joins the war with Easy Company, unaware of how much her life will change over the next few years.

Enchanted

Out of the Woods

Haunted

Evermore

Breathe

Daylight

Paris

You Are In Love

Lover

State of Grace

Labyrinth

You’re On Your Own, Kid

Forever Winter

Soon You'll Get Better

Right Where You Left Me

Castles Crumbling

Innocent - on break until spring 2024!!

epiphany playlist

message or comment if you want to be added to the tag list!!

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mismatchsocks · 28 days

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sometimes i’ll be watching hannibal and think abt how often we see hannibal just in his house in a three piece suit. he’s not going anywhere or doing anything he’s simply eating or just doing small tasks but is fully in a suit. i hate him.

#nbc hannibal #nbc hannibal fandom #nbc hannigram #hannibal #hannibal lector #mads mikkelsen

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5ummit · 4 months

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AO3 Ship Stats: Year In Bad Data

You may have seen this AO3 Year In Review.

It hasn’t crossed my tumblr dash but it sure is circulating on twitter with 3.5M views, 10K likes, 17K retweets and counting. Normally this would be great! I love data and charts and comparisons!

Except this data is GARBAGE and belongs in the TRASH.

I first noticed something fishy when I realized that Steve/Bucky – the 5th largest ship on AO3 by total fic count – wasn’t on this Top 100 list anywhere. I know Marvel’s popularity has fallen in recent years, but not that much. Especially considering some of the other ships that made it on the list. You mean to tell me a femslash HP ship (Mary MacDonald/Lily Potter) in which one half of the pairing was so minor I had to look up her name because she was only mentioned once in a single flashback scene beat fandom juggernaut Stucky? I call bullshit.

Now obviously jumping to conclusions based on gut instinct alone is horrible practice... but it is a good place to start. So let’s look at the actual numbers and discover why this entire dataset sits on a throne of lies.

Here are the results of filtering the Steve/Bucky tag for all works created between Jan 1, 2023 and Dec 31, 2023:

Not only would that place Steve/Bucky at #23 on this list, if the other counts are correct (hint: they're not), it’s also well above the 1520-new-work cutoff of the #100 spot. So how the fuck is it not on the list? Let’s check out the author’s FAQ to see if there’s some important factor we’re missing.

The first thing you’ll probably notice in the FAQ is that the data is being scraped from publicly available works. That means anything privated and only accessible to logged-in users isn’t counted. This is Sin #1. Already the data is inaccurate because we’re not actually counting all of the published fics, but the bots needed to do data collection on this scale can't easily scrape privated fics so I kinda get it. We’ll roll with this for now and see if it at least makes the numbers make more sense:

Nope. Logging out only reduced the total by a couple hundred. Even if one were to choose the most restrictive possible definition of "new works" and filter out all crossovers and incomplete fics, Steve/Bucky would still have a yearly total of 2,305. Yet the list claims their total is somewhere below 1,500? What the fuck is going on here?

Let’s look at another ship for comparison. This time one that’s very recent and popular enough to make it on the list so we have an actual reference value for comparison: Nick/Charlie (Heartstopper). According to the list, this ship sits at #34 this year with a total of 2630 new works. But what’s AO3 say?

Off by a hundred or so but the values are much closer at least!

If we dig further into the FAQ though we discover Sin #2 (and the most egregious): the counting method. The yearly fic counts are NOT determined by filtering for a certain time period, they’re determined by simply taking a snapshot of the total number of fics in a ship tag at the end of the year and subtracting the previous end-of-year total. For example, if you check a ship tag on Jan 1, 2023 and it has 10,000 fics and check it again on Jan 1, 2024 and it now has 12,000 fics, the difference (2,000) would be the number of "new works" on this chart.

At first glance this subtraction method might seem like a perfectly valid way to count fics, and it’s certainly the easiest way, but it can and did have major consequences to the point of making the entire dataset functionally meaningless. Why? If any older works are deleted or privated, every single one of those will be subtracted from the current year fic count. And to make the problem even worse, beginning at the end of last year there was a big scare about AI scraping fics from AO3, which caused hundreds, if not thousands, of users to lock down their fics or delete them.

The magnitude of this fuck up may not be immediately obvious so let’s look at an example to see how this works in practice.

Say we have two ships. Ship A is more than a decade old with a large fanbase. Ship B is only a couple years old but gaining traction. On Jan 1, 2023, Ship A had a catalog of 50,000 fics and ship B had 5,000. Both ships have 3,000 new works published in 2023. However, 4% of the older works in each fandom were either privated or deleted during that same time (this percentage is was just chosen to make the math easy but it’s close to reality).

Ship A: 50,000 x 4% = 2,000 removed works Ship B: 5,000 x 4% = 200 removed works

Ship A: 3,000 - 2,000 = 1,000 "new" works Ship B: 3,000 - 200 = 2,800 "new" works

This gives Ship A a net gain of 1,000 and Ship B a net gain of 2,800 despite both fandoms producing the exact same number of new works that year. And neither one of these reported counts are the actual new works count (3,000). THIS explains the drastic difference in ranking between a ship like Steve/Bucky and Nick/Charlie.

How is this a useful measure of anything? You can't draw any conclusions about the current size and popularity of a fandom based on this data.

With this system, not only is the reported "new works" count incorrect, the older, larger fandom will always be punished and it’s count disproportionately reduced simply for the sin of being an older, larger fandom. This example doesn’t even take into account that people are going to be way more likely to delete an old fic they're no longer proud of in a fandom they no longer care about than a fic that was just written, so the deletion percentage for the older fandom should theoretically be even larger in comparison.

And if that wasn't bad enough, the author of this "study" KNEW the data was tainted and chose to present it as meaningful anyway. You will only find this if you click through to the FAQ and read about the author’s methodology, something 99.99% of people will NOT do (and even those who do may not understand the true significance of this problem):

The author may try to argue their post states that the tags "which had the greatest gain in total public fanworks” are shown on the chart, which makes it not a lie, but a error on the viewer’s part in not interpreting their data correctly. This is bullshit. Their chart CLEARLY titles the fic count column “New Works” which it explicitly is NOT, by their own admission! It should be titled “Net Gain in Works” or something similar.

Even if it were correctly titled though, the general public would not understand the difference, would interpret the numbers as new works anyway (because net gain is functionally meaningless as we've just discovered), and would base conclusions on their incorrect assumptions. There’s no getting around that… other than doing the counts correctly in the first place. This would be a much larger task but I strongly believe you shouldn’t take on a project like this if you can’t do it right.

To sum up, just because someone put a lot of work into gathering data and making a nice color-coded chart, doesn’t mean the data is GOOD or VALUABLE.

#ao3 #ao3 stats #psa #my words #fandom #I doubt anyone is even going to read this but I needed to get it out of my system and at least try to stop this from spreading #if you know me #you know I get Big Mad about misinformation #don't take anything at face value #do your own research

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