#their story is so heartbreaking and beautiful

[deus-sema]

My two cents on Shogun finale with spoilers:

I think the way this finale was handled can be used as a fine example of how to subvert expectations in the *right* manner. This is not the kind of ending that would make us go WTF after momentary shock value only to disappoint us terribly but an ending which might not be what I - as a show only fan had predicted - but one which makes sense in the longer run like all the pieces of a puzzle falling into place to make a beautiful picture.

The actual event of the battle matters not as much as the actions of the people involved who contributed to its occurrence and affected its results. The wheels of fate are already in motion. We know that, come what may, Toranaga shall prevail. But that is a tale for another day. The one which we have been following until now was about Toranaga fighting against all odds and carefully setting the stage in order to achieve his dream, about Blackthorne who started his journey as an outsider in a foreign and hostile land with less than noble intentions finding a home in that place and about Mariko who patiently strived to fulfill her destined purpose and add meaning to her existence. And so she did. For even after her death, her presence was imbued in almost every scene leaving an everlasting impact on them.

The misleading opening of the episode with an aged Blackthorne who seemed to be back in England reminiscing about his days at Osaka clinging onto Mariko's crucifix was done in a clever manner. I was momentarily led to believe that Blackthorne might get to sail home afterall and I failed to understand why they would do that. But the lines between what was a fleeting dream and reality became abundantly clear when I witnessed Blackthorne letting go of Mariko's crucifix into the oceans. Mariko had become one with her homeland and by living there forever, Blackthorne had become one with her.

The writing of Shogun also shows us how one can make significant changes to certain characters and their relationships that differ from the source material and handle them wisely while adapting a story which is linked to the actions of its key players. Mariko's friendship with Ochiba and Ochiba's regard for her paid off because her death led Ochiba to withdraw her support for Ishido, even if she wasn't going to ally with Toranaga. This particular change from the books affected the plot and in a meaningful way. It's an achievement which certain other adaptations that introduce drastic changes without any regard for the overarching plot cannot boast of.

As a MariThorne shipper, I was left satisfied albeit in a bittersweet sense because while John had lost Mariko, his love for her still persisted. It was heartbreaking but this is a tragedy well done. One that I would remember forever. The last scene was oddly satisfying because, even if he doesn't know it yet, Blackthorne is exactly where he belongs now.

The acting was stellar as usual. Cosmo Jarvis and Tadanobu Asano deserve a special mention for this episode while Hiroyuki Sanada never disappoints. I'm grateful to the entire team of Shogun for delivering a show that I enjoyed wholeheartedly until the very end. And off I go to read the book next.

#shogun fx #shogun #yoshii toranaga #toda mariko #john blackthorne #anna sawai #hiroyuki sanada #cosmo jarvis #shogun ep 10

[smytherines]

Them: so what is Spies Are Forever?

Me: its a beautiful, tragic, heartbreaking, hilarious story about loss, about the kind of grief that lives in your bones and slowly destroys your life. Its a story about trauma and identity and sexuality.

Its a story about vengeance, about that kind of rage that boils you alive inside, that makes you feral, that makes you violent and out of control. Where you can only manage your own pain by inflicting pain on others.

Its about losing everything due to your own hubris and having to live with the consequences of your own actions. Its about fear and failure and insecurity and government surveillance.

Its about scraping together what is left of your life and somehow finding people to care about you while you do it. Its about found family.

Its a story about love.

Them: ok but like... what is it about?

Me: *sigh* the year is 1957. A man trips on a banana peel and dies

#spies are forever #tin can bros #curtwen #owen carvour #agent curt mega #saf #tcb

[sunsetphantoms]

the amount of bisexual representation we’ve gotten in mainstream media in the last year alone is insane. adding on the fact that there is all different age groups on their self discovery journey is just amazing

you have malakai and missy from heartbreak high and nick nelson from heartstopper figuring their bisexuality out during high school

alex claremont-diaz from red, white, and royal blue figuring it out in his 20s

and evan ‘buck’ buckley from 9-1-1 figuring it out in his 30s

and i just think it’s so amazing to see these beautiful stories of self discovery and subsequently wholesome queer love stories.

#add anymore recent bisexual characters in the comments or tags in case i’ve forgotten anyone #lgbtqia #bisexual #queer #heartbreak high #missy beckett #malakai mitchell #alex claremont diaz #red white and royal blue #rwrb #evan 'buck' buckley #911 abc #911 spoilers

[oh-shes-lit]

I've been firmly anti-citadel in my thoughts (their long-war strategy of slowly gathering information and weaponising it in every way possible, taking human lives and turning them into machines, taking human behaviour and weaponising that in every way they can)

Which also inevitably means being anti wizard because the citadel and wizardry are Very difficult to separate. Every time suvi has aligned herself with the citadel it sets alarm bells off, the way the suvi seems to disappear and the sky salutes and marches to the drum of their standing orders, it feels wrong and is frightening to see it happen.

When suvi gets mad at ame and eursulon it's because they've taken upon the graces of her house and proceeded to throw paint on the walls and set fire to the kitchen. But they also tend not to recognise that the kitchen wanted to eat eursulon and if the walls got the chance they might be the ones staining ame's clothes with citadel paint. The citadel is an institution with motives and (to us the audience) pretty clear goals.

(control it's control they want to control everything all of the time which is why it lines up with wizardry because that Requires bringing control to the chaos of umora's magic)

That being said.

I am starting to recognise how this doesn't go one way only. Suvi is justified in feeling how she feels and, more importantly, ame is also the child and product of an institution.

The institution of The Coven of Witches seems to wield unfathomable power that is divided in far, far greater pieces to its members. One (one!!!) slight from suvi and ame can ruin her life 100 years from now??? Ame (semi-unwittingly) committed some casual terrorist acts and gets off with a social reprimanding from suvi because suvi went out of her way to Make That Happen

The rules of witchery are esoteric and complex, to suvi and us the audience - much in the same way the rules of the citadel are esoteric and complex to ame and eursulon. There's certainly some commentary here about how i can recognise and call out most of the political mistakes ame makes in the citadel and yet would be lost entering the domain of a witch

I'm so glad we're getting to see more of all of the witches because it's actually highlighting how much power they wield. Seeing indri ask if ame knows the names of suvi's entourage is just as terrifying as watching the suvi be questioned at the gallothopter (ornithopter? Heli-boat.)

We The Audience know that the coven seems to have access to the power to End Wizardry which is frankly, rather insane to think about. Imagine if 7 people had the power to just turn off the internet and 6 of them were random strangers that live at the most intense extremes of nature and the 7th was Doris who makes cool clockwork watches at the summer fair - oh but she died so her adoptive granddaughter (no living relatives) that she trained for a decade gets to do it instead. 20-ish is old enough for a key to a nuclear button, right?

...maybe that was too much metaphor but you can see how insane it feels when you actually give it some context. It's heartbreaking to watch it tear them apart but if they're able to start recognising where their lines are drawn then they might actually be able to use their rocket powered institutions to fly instead of just staying afloat in the ocean.

Anyway, I think I'm getting on the -goes both ways- train for how suvi has been treated. I still think she fails to recognise why her institution causes her true friends to act the way they do but i now also think that ame fails to see the same for her own institution. In the end, they're both victims atop their own Situations which are themselves 16 situations deep, this is either gonna be a beautiful story or a beautiful tragedy and it's going to take a hell of a lot of finesse if they want to survive.

#meanwhile eursulon's institution is the air that keeps them alive and sometimes the air wants to kill them dead #wbn #worlds beyond number #wbn spoilers #worlds beyond number spoilers #whew that was a long one haven't quite worded like that in a while #im terminally insane for the podcast <3

[doe-rose-q]

On April 18th, 2024, the official Instagram account of The Walking Dead shared the post shown within my edit in the left pane of the first of the photos shown ☝🏼here☝🏼. Beth Greene (Emily Kinney) was on a relatively short list of deceased characters from the series with this query—if we (the viewers) could bring back any character, which one would it be??? There goes that often annoying TWD account… trolling yet again in regards to Beth. *SIGH* 🙄😑🤨🤔

But I was so heartened when I looked through the comments and saw the huge volume of fans of the series—and not just Beth/Emily stans or Beth x Daryl shippers—stating that it is indeed Beth Greene whom they would want to see come back… ALIVE. This coming November will mark TEN YEARS since Beth was tragically shot in that heartbreaking episode of “Coda.” And there are still SO MANY Walking Dead fans who would have been thrilled to see her return during the run of the series. THAT is a true testament to the impact of Beth as a character and how she has enduringly resonated with so many people… with her sensitivity, her empathy, her beauty inside and out, her strength, and her spirit. The faint Team Delusional fire within me sparks a fantasy of her showing up in the second season of Daryl Dixon. Hey… stranger things have happened, right? Just the fact that Daryl floated all the way across the Atlantic to France(!?!) in the first place certainly demands a substantial suspension of disbelief on the part of the viewers. 😐

Anyway, feeling inspired by the sight of the voluminous outpouring of love and devotion for Beth, I combed through the comment thread on the post and took screenshots of any comments of Beth positivity that I could find. I then took all of those comments and poured them into a total of 17(!!!) separate Instastories (shown here in the above photos) that I shared on my Instagram—doeroseq. I tagged Emily Kinney on each story. Because I wanted her to see just how much she and Beth are both beloved and still missed by TWD’s fandom… all these years later. 👱🏻‍♀️💚🐞

And I later saw the confirmation in my Instagram messaging that she saw at least one of them. So that made me feel really good. 🥰

When I saw @bethiscomingsoon’s recent tumblr posts about their similar observations of the Beth/Emily adoration within the post’s comments, I decided to share my Instastories here too. 😁

We Beth/Emily and Bethyl fans need to stick together. 💞

I continue to love my Bethyl shipping fandom and I care deeply for all of the people in it. 😍

#bethyl #beth greene #emily kinney #daryl dixon #norman reedus #the walking dead #team delusional #beth greene deserved better #bring beth back

[the-authoress-writes]

Up Where We Belong

Part One

Pete “Maverick” Mitchell x Writer!reader

Synopsis: When a writer experiencing horrible writer’s block goes to the Apple Valley Airshow for inspiration, she meets a certain older, daring naval aviator, leading to maybe a little more than just inspiration.

Warnings: Mentions of hospice and family member deaths, age gap (reader is in their late thirties to early forties).

But really, this is just fluff.

Author’s Note: The plot bunnies have reproduced at an unholy rate, and I am so stupid for writing this, especially since I have another chapter of “Wherever You Go”, to write, the first chapter of “Safe and Sound” and a MavDad story to finish.

The second part and another Mav story is lined up, but at this point, I’m not going to complain, because at least I’m writing, and Mav is finally getting more of my writerly attention.

We’ll see what gets finished next, 😂.

#writerlife

Again, I name a story after a song, from another movie about the Navy, funnily enough.

(Only three of my stories on my masterlist are not named after songs—I can’t stop, apparently)

So here we go!

She had always been somewhat interested in planes—it was hard not to be, when most of her family was in commercial aviation.

Her father had flown for nearly thirty years for American, her younger brother was currently a first officer coming up on his command upgrade with Delta, and her grandfather, whom she affectionately called PopPop, had flown for Continental.

Some of her fondest memories were looking over her grandfather’s maps and airport diagrams, and sitting on his lap while he taught her how to use an analog flight computer.

But one day, when she was home from her freshman year of college, where she was taking her degree in English, her grandfather took her up to the attic to show her something.

It was a footlocker from World War II, the faded paint on the outside reading “USAAF”.

“This was your granduncle Joseph’s—my eldest brother.

He was a P-51 pilot.

He ran many successful missions in his aircraft until he got shot down saving his wingman’s life, near the end of the war.”

PopPop opened the footlocker, revealing a faded American flag folded into a tricorn lying neatly atop several dark greenish-brown uniforms.

PopPop gently lifted the flag and uniforms out of the footlocker, uncovering yellowed, brittle-looking maps, a compass set, and a thick stack of letters, tied together with a black ribbon.

It was the stack of letters that PopPop lifted out, and held out to her. “Look at these, and read them.”

She did, and the story the letters contained was beautiful and heartbreaking.

Her granduncle had fallen in love with a woman who was a member of the French Resistance, named Céline, whom he’d met during a covert resupply mission, and they even had plans to marry after the war.

But she’d died in a skirmish with German soldiers in Paris, leaving him so bereft that he’d taken to writing letters to her specter, just to have an outlet for his grief.

The last letter in the pile was heartwrenching, where her granduncle Joseph talked about how he was only living because she would want him to, only being careful in the air because she’d want him to.

She’d cried reading the letters, and she’d asked PopPop why he’d wanted her to read the letters.

“I wanted someone else to know their story,” he’d simply replied.

“No one else knows?”

He hummed, considering his answer. “Sometimes you keep some things to yourself until the right person to tell comes along.”

A few years passed, and when PopPop was on hospice, the two of them were watching “Band of Brothers”, when she remembered Uncle Joe, as she’d taken to calling him in her head.

“What’s going on in that bright head of yours, darling?” PopPop’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Oh, uh, nothing much, I was just remembering Uncle Joe.

Thinking that he and Céline deserved better.”

“They did.”

She shook her head, “I wish I could write them a happier ending, you know?”

PopPop hummed weakly. “Well, why don’t you?

If anyone could do it, it would be you.

If you do that, I’m sure in a few years, those English professors of yours would be saying that they taught a great American author.”

She was shocked and touched. “Wha—I—well, I guess I could, but, are—y-you’d be okay with that, PopPop?”

He laid a cold hand on hers, “I wouldn’t trust it to anyone else, my dear girl.”

“Okay,” she smiled tearily, and nodded, the two of them returning their attention to the episode.

A week later, PopPop passed, and many things happened over the ensuing years that caused the idea of writing about Uncle Joe to be put on the back burner.

In fact, she forgot all about it, until she was sitting on her couch a couple of weeks after having been let go from her job as an English teacher at her local high school.

She was mindlessly watching an episode of some show she couldn’t even remember the name of, when her eyes landed on the footlocker which PopPop had given to her in his will.

The memory of PopPop encouraging her to write about Uncle Joe came back to her, and she paused the episode, strode over to the footlocker, carefully opened it, and drew out the letters.

Madly, over the course of the next several hours, she reread the letters, numerous research-related tabs quickly opening up on her phone, tablet, and laptop.

As months passed, she made good progress on her first draft, but somewhere along the way, about slightly less than halfway through her intended story beats, she hit the dreaded dead end, writer’s block in full force.

Rereading the letters did nothing—every line she wrote, she deleted; she felt lost, and like she’d completely lost Uncle Joe and Céline’s voices.

She felt right back at square one.

Then, one day, as she was looking at her brother’s latest Facebook reel from his layover in Korea, she saw an advertisement for the Apple Valley Airshow, which would feature an aerobatic demonstration with an actual, airworthy P-51.

Maybe seeing the aircraft her Uncle flew would shake something loose in her brain so she could move forward.

She didn’t even hesitate—she immediately booked a ticket, and prepared herself to take down a lot of notes.

The airshow was absolutely wonderful, and even though she never got as into aviation as the rest of her family, it was still something which fascinated her, and seeing the planes made her marvel all over again at the miracle that was aviation, how humankind had successfully taken the skies for itself through brutally elegant means.

Finally, it was time for the reason she’d come—the emcee began, “Now, everyone, you’re all in for a treat, because up next, we have a nearly eighty-year-old aircraft, a P-51K named Bianca, and she’ll be giving us an aerobatic demonstration!

So let’s give a warm Apple Valley Airshow welcome to Bianca and her owner and pilot, US Navy Captain Pete Mitchell!”

She clapped along with everyone else, eagerly awaiting the arrival of the P-51.

Soon, the sound of a propeller engine grew louder and louder, and then, there she was.

Bianca was gorgeous, gleaming silver with red markings, the American star roundel on her side.

The shining aircraft got closer and closer to the ground, towards the crowd, and just as she was about to worry that the P-51 was in an upset condition, the plane pulled up slightly, buzzing the transfixed people.

Laughing in awe and delight, she clapped with everyone, and watched as the daring pilot put the plane through a series of hair-raising spirals, rolls, dives, and elegant, breathtaking passes with such precision, skill, and ease, just knowing that whoever was flying that old girl had aviation in his blood as surely as it ran in hers; it made her wonder what her granduncle would say about how the venerable fighter was being flown.

Before she knew it, the demonstration was over, and with another low pass and wing wave, the P-51 flew off to land.

It actually took her a moment to come back to herself, she was so stunned by what she saw, and she knew she had to see Bianca up close.

After asking for directions to the flight line, she scanned the row of planes, eventually spying a flash of red.

She walked over, catching sight of a tall, mustached man a few years younger than her, standing in front of the aircraft, wearing a borderline-obnoxiously-loud Hawaiian shirt unbuttoned over a white tank and jeans, stereotypical Ray-Bans pushed up onto his head.

“Excuse me?”

“Yes?” the man replied.

“Is this the P-51 which flew a few minutes ago?

She is a P-51, right?”

“That’d be a yes to both questions, ma’am.”

She chuckled grimly at the idea that her age was maybe showing enough for her to be ma’am-ed by someone only a few years younger than her. “Are you the owner?”

He scoffed, good-naturedly. “Nah, that’ll be my dad.

Hey Dad, someone wants to talk to you!”

A moment later, a man stepped out from under the P-51, and she’d absolutely be lying if she said her breath didn’t catch.

First off, if she had to guess, he was older than her, but there was something about him which made him seem younger than his age.

Then there was the fact that he was absurdly good looking—ridiculously so, in fact; impossibly raven-dark hair, mischievously sparkling, brilliant green eyes, and a physique that people half her age would kill for, all sinewy muscle, visible with the snug white t-shirt and jeans he was wearing.

The final nail in the proverbial coffin was his smile—God, it belonged in a museum, because it was a work of art, and coupled with his roguish air, everything about him screamed the most delicious kind of trouble, sending echoes of Whoopi Goldberg’s voice saying, “You in danger, girl,” through her head.

“Hi,” he began, extending his hand.

Luckily for her, she was quick on the draw, and extended her own hand, proffering a “Hi,” of her own, though she kicked herself at the fact that the next words out of her mouth were, “Are you the owner?”

Oh, well—couldn’t win them all.

His grip was firm and calloused, but gentle, without the cool metal band she expected on his fourth finger, quick eyes observing the lack of even a pale band of skin on the same finger, and she shook herself from the observation in time to hear his, “That’s me—Pete Mitchell, you can call me Mav.”

At her quizzical look, he continued, “It’s short for my callsign, Maverick—I’m Navy.”

She nodded, “The emcee did say you were Navy, and that tracks; judging from that impressive demonstration, you don’t strike me as the kind who blends in.”

“Thank you—I aim to please,” he grinned.

Miraculously, she managed to ignore his brilliant, beautiful smile, somehow mustering a “Well, you certainly delivered,” before she introduced herself.

A cough from the younger man, Pete’s son, made her realize that she hadn’t let go of Pete’s hand, and vice versa, which caused the two of them to practically spring apart.

“Oh, uh, this is my son, Bradley,” Pete introduced the younger man, reaching nearly comically up to wrap an arm around Bradley’s shoulders.

“Nice to meet you, Bradley,” she replied, trying to recollect herself while her mind acted like it was the first time she’d interacted with a good-looking man.

“Nice to meet you too, ma’am.”

“I look that bad, do I?” she chuckled.

“Just the way he was raised,” Pete proudly said, patting his son on the back.

Embarrassingly, she just then remembered the reason she was here. “Oh, I—I actually had a few questions for you, Pete, about the P-51, because I’m writing a book, and I wanted to get some details.”

His eyes lit up. “Details about this old girl, huh?

I can do that; come on, let me show you around.” He moved to the side of the aircraft and gestured grandly. “Bianca here’s a Dallas-built North American P-51K, with a Packard V-1650-7 engine and an 11 foot diameter Aeroproducts propeller.

She was donated to the Civil Air Patrol in 1946, and I acquired her in 2001.

I’m not sure if she ever saw combat, because her military flight logs were lost, but I know for a fact that she routinely patrolled the California skies way back when.

Let me show you the controls.”

He nimbly boosted himself up to the wing and held his hand out to her. “Come on up.”

“Uh, is this a wise decision?” she asked, glancing between his hand and the wing. “She is nearly eighty-years-old.”

Pete laughed, “She’s stronger than she looks, and these girls were made to withstand this sort of thing, come on.”

Deciding to trust his judgment, she took his hand and jumped up to the wing at the same time as he pulled her up, causing extra momentum which propelled her body into his.

He caught them on the edge of the cockpit, and after a second, she realized that she was pressed up against his body, both hands resting against his…very solid chest.

She prayed that her suddenly pounding heart and the burning flush on her cheeks could be discounted as a reaction to her stumble.

“I’m so sorry,” she breathed, scrambling back to put some distance between them for her sanity’s sake, while trying not to fall off either wing edge.

“Eh,” he waved off, “that’s my fault, I should have said I’d pull you up,” as he shifted to kneel on the wing. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she replied breezily, “I believe you were about to show me the controls?”

“Mm-hmm, come here.”

They slowly adjusted themselves into a configuration that enabled them both to see into the cockpit, and he pointed out the many gauges—explaining each one—and the literal stick stick, which looked nothing like the controls of any aircraft she’d seen in person or in the movies, as well as her general flight capabilities and technical specifications.

A further glance to the right showed something she didn’t expect to see. “I thought the P-51 was a single seat aircraft?”

Pete absentmindedly rubbed the back of his neck, “They are—I made a… few modifications.”

“Oh.”

“You want to sit in her?” he offered, gesturing to the pilot’s seat.

She was not about to pass up an opportunity like that. “I—wh—sure!”

He carefully helped her into the cockpit, and once settled, she breathed in and out while she absorbed this moment, and imagined her granduncle sitting in a seat similar to this one, looking out at the boundless sky. “Wow,” she reverently murmured.

“I know, right?”

“This is amazing, that aircraft like this is still around and still flying, I mean—this is history,” she said, getting slightly emotional.

“It is; she is.”

After a few beats longer, she sighed, and reached for his hand so she could get out, and he carefully eased her out of the cockpit, onto the wing, then both of them back onto the ground.

“Thank you, for showing me around, this was really helpful, Pete, I think this really helped me.”

“You’re welcome,” he nodded easily. “If I may ask, what kind of book are you writing?”

For the briefest second, she instinctively recoiled from the idea of telling the story, but then, some part of her heart said that Pete Mitchell was someone she could tell this story to. “It’s uh, a fictional version of my granduncle Joe’s love story; he was a P-51 pilot during World War II, and he was in love with a woman in the French Resistance named Céline.” She turned to look at Bianca’s gleaming fuselage. “But they both died in the war; she was killed by the Germans, and he got shot down saving his wingman soon after.

I never even knew until my first year of college, when my grandfather told me the story through the love letters my granduncle and Céline wrote.

When my grandfather was dying, I told him that I wished they had a happy ending, and… well, he told me to write it for them, since I was an English major.

So here I am,” she shrugged, turning to face Pete.

He looked grave and touched. “That’s… that’s beautiful.”

“Thank you, I have to admit, I’ve wondered if what I was doing was disrespectful.”

“I know quite a few people who deserved happy endings that didn’t get them,” he glanced into the distance, a wistful, pained look in his eyes. “If I can help at least two people who didn’t have their happy endings in this world get it somehow, I’m more than willing to help.”

She sincerely replied, “Thank you for the validation,” wondering what his story was.

“You’re welcome.

And uh… you know what?

Gimme a second.”

He leapt back onto the P-51’s wing, and rummaged through the cockpit, pulling out a flight log book and a pen, hastily writing something on a page, before he tore it out, and leapt back down.

“Here, it’s my number—if you had any more questions, feel free to call, I’d be happy to answer them.”

If she had been placed in a similar situation as this maybe twenty years ago, she’d have probably done something to embarrass herself, because this—things like this didn’t happen to her—they only happened in movies, but here she was.

He gave her his number—yes, it was if she had any research questions, but still.

‘Get a grip, woman, just because you didn’t see a ring doesn’t mean he isn’t in a relationship,’ she told herself, trying to project “Respectable Professional Woman”, while her inner adolescent was trying its level best to come out.

“Th—thank you,” she managed to get out, with only a minute stammer on the first syllable.

“I’m serious, call if you need anything—I mean—there’s not a lot of people out there who can tell you what it’s like to actually fly one of these beauties.”

“Be careful,” she chuckled, already determined not to call unless it was absolutely dire, “You don’t know if I might take you up on that offer.”

“It’s what I gave you my number for,” Pete winked, and she commended herself for keeping it together.

Deciding to quit while she was ahead, and while she still seemed like a normal human being, she came in for final approach, as her dad would put it, with, “Alright—I better go, I’ve already taken too much of your time.”

“It’s fine, it’s always a pleasure to talk to someone about this girl.”

“Thank you again,” she stated, honestly grateful, feeling the creative juices flowing and simmering in the background.

“You’re welcome.”

And with that, she walked away, exhaling evenly for so many reasons.

That night, she wrote and wrote just as she expected, and the story was flowing.

That is, until she hit another wall just before the next weekend.

And this one was even more stubborn than the first.

It didn’t help that she had written herself into a corner with this dogfight scene she was on—she had no way of knowing if the tactics were sound, and she was thinking of completely cutting it, but it seemed so stilted without it, and she had no idea of how to avoid writing this scene.

But one part of that thought, she realized, wasn’t true.

Her gaze landed on her coffee table.

The sheet of flight log paper with ten numbers written on them stared tauntingly back at her, daring her to call Pete.

“Nope, no, I am not going to do it,” she told herself. “No—absolutely not.

I’m sure he has better things to do than answer stupid questions.

No—I will not call him.”

The paper raised a nonexistent eyebrow.

“No!” was her battle cry, and she turned back to her laptop screen, but it offered no relief.

The depressing reality of her blinking, unmoving cursor cackled at her in harmony with the flight log paper.

It was like that healthy cereal ad from years ago, with the little girl in a prim uniform, enticingly calling “Donuts?”

However, after ten more minutes, the dictatorship of the blank page grew too cruel and harsh, and she folded like a house of whatever was more insubstantial than cards.

“Fine,” she muttered, snatching up the paper. “I’ll call, but if he doesn’t answer, it’s no skin off my back—I’ll manage… somehow.”

At least that’s what she told herself.

She dialed the number, heart pounding as the phone rang…

And rang…

And rang…

And rang.

She was just about to breathe a sigh of conflicted relief and hang up, but then the line clicked, and she heard a slightly breathless “Pete Mitchell.”

“Hi,” she blinked, cursing herself for not thinking through what she was going to say. “I don’t know if you remember me, we met at the Apple Valley Airshow—”

“__, right?

The writer.”

“Yeah, that’s me, you said I could call if I had any questions,” she scratched her head.

“Uh-huh.

I’m guessing you have one,” she could hear the smile in his voice.

“More like a lot, really.

I’ve unfortunately written myself into a corner, it’s this dogfight scene, and there’s no way I can currently remove it without sacrificing practically all of my progress since last week.

I just need to know if the tactics are sound.”

“Huh.”

“I—you know, I can figure it out myself, if it’s too much trouble—”

He interrupted, “No, it’s no trouble, I’m more than willing to help, in fact… uh, this might sound—weird and uncomfortable—or—both, really, but if you want, why don’t you come out to my hangar tomorrow, we can talk about this, rework your scene if we need to, without having to do video calls or text or email.”

“Oh,” she breathed, eyes wide.

“I promise I’m not a serial killer or anything,” he chuckled.

“I—thank you for the reassurance, by the way—but I mean, that’s a lot of confidence in how well I can write a dogfight.”

“It can’t be all that bad,” he assured.

“I’ll just prepare to be ripped to shreds,” she half-teasingly replied.

Pete snorted. “Even if it were that bad, I wouldn’t rip it to shreds—I save that for my new students.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t know what’s worse, being torn apart or the porcelain treatment.”

“How about a balance, then?”

“I’d be very happy with that.”

“So… is that a yes to coming out to my hangar?”

“I… suppose it is,” she replied, before she could convince herself otherwise.

She was a mature, responsible adult, and she was capable of being said mature, responsible adult.

(And if time permitted, she was even capable of looking respectfully, when he wasn’t watching.)

(She was only human, after all.)

“Perfect, I’ll send you the address; I have to warn you, it’ll probably be a bit of a drive, is that okay?”

“That’s fine, after all, where else will I find someone with experience flying the P-51?”

“You could always try the local VFW post,” he joked.

“What are the odds my local VFW has a former P-51 pilot?

I’ll go with the expert I’ve already met.”

“Alright, alright, I already agreed to help, no need to butter me up,” he lightly said, humorously.

“Just send the address,” was her amused response.

And that was how she found herself on US-395 North making the three-and-a-half hour drive from her apartment in San Bernardino to the Mojave, praying that she wouldn’t somehow make a fool of herself today.

To be continued…

Next Part

Was part of this story inspired by Atonement?

Maybe.

I didn’t really have the movie in mind when I wrote the plot device, but I realized the similarity after the fact.

Analog flight computer

USAAF

Band of Brothers

The Apple Valley Airshow takes place every year in the town of Apple Valley, located in San Bernardino, California.

(I considered setting this story at the annual Miramar Airshow, which takes place at MCAS (formerly NAS) Miramar, but I imagine that Mav would probably want to avoid going to MCAS Miramar for obvious reasons.)

Roundel

I don’t think that most pilots would do very daring aerobatic stunts in a plane as old as the P-51, just because she’s a darn P-51, and she’s a flying piece of history, but this is Mav, he absolutely knows what his girl can handle, I’m sure he knows how to make something look more crazy than it actually is, and bottom line, let’s just suspend our disbelief, 😂.

Did I introduce Mav in that way just so I could use that gif?

Probably absolutely.

It’s a great shot, and I do not blame me.

“You in danger, girl.” Timestamp 1:35

All the information about the P-51 is taken from the information available about the model and history/registration of Tom’s P-51, except for the details of her name and the military flight logs being missing, as the history available for N51EW never mentions if she saw actual WWII combat.

She is registered in the FAA database with the serial number 44-12840, and her name since 2006 has been “Kiss Me Kate”.

(I know why she’s named this, and it hits something in my heart that Tom never bothered to rename her.)

Her name in this story will be explained later, but those who follow me on my main blog, @oh-great-authoress, might have a hunch as to why I named the P-51 “Bianca”.

The ad I mentioned was a real Kellogg’s Special K ad.

VFW

The travel time between San Bernardino and Mav’s hangar is estimated using the travel time from San Bernardino to NAWS China Lake, and then a further hour and twenty minutes from there.

Taglist

@valmare

@callsign-skydancer

@permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88

@tadomikiku

@malindacath

@aviatorobsessed

@lynnevanss

@djs8891

If you’d like to join my taglist, just send me an ask!

#not me 👀 at men literally old enough to be my father #but my reader DEFINITELY is—and he’s not old enough to be HER father #bahaha 🤣 #top gun: maverick #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun: maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun: maverick fic #top gun maverick fic #pete maverick mitchell x reader #pete mitchell x reader #pete maverick mitchell #pete mitchell #tom cruise

[bellamysbooklover]

Y’all…..

As heartbreaking as Izzy’s death is. It is still a good death. Am I heartbroken that it happened after all of his character development this season? Yes. I’m so heartbroken that he didn’t get his chance to belong with a group of people for longer. To be loved.

However. That does not take away from the fact that it was a good death. Before it happened we had a speech from Izzy about how even when piracy is gone in its entirety. Even when every pirate is dead. Piracy in its most basic form, belonging, will live on. The legacy of outcasts finding their people, will live on. Will live so much longer than the British empire.

He said “you are not a pirate bc you do not understand the feeling of finally finding a place to just be.” And “you are not a pirate because we are and we have experienced and we have loved and you will never love”.

Izzy’s death is a horrible stroke of bad luck. Izzy was the one walking him up so izzy was the one that got shot.

Even after getting shot he runs so he can get home with his family. You can see in the scene that the second he was shot he knew that was it for him. He still ran.

And at the end, him and Ed finally made up completely. He finally recognized that Ed is so much happier as Ed than Blackbeard. We have a parallel of “there he is” for first the Blackbeard persona and now finally the man behind it. Izzy wanted to pull his friend Eddie out.

Izzy said “just sit with me” and he said “I’m ready”.

Earlier in the season Izzy tries to shoot himself and he MISSES and he gets his ass up and stops Ed. And by the end of the season he has accepted life without his leg and he wanted to live again. But when he was dying he was ready. He was ready because he was loved and surrounded by his family. He knew his family would be okay. That Ed and Fang and Frenchie and Jim and Archie and Lucius and Wee John and even Stede would be okay. So he was ready.

His death was fucking heartbreaking but it is above all else a story about being loved, becoming yourself and loving in turn and how dare you take away from that.

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd season 2 #ofmd s2 #ofmd izzy #ofmd spoilers #ofmd 2 #blackbeard ofmd #our flag means love #izzy hands #israel hands #his story is heartbreaking #but his story is also beautiful #it is a story of love #of finding love in himself #seeing this discourse makes me so fucking sad #the point of media is to make you feel #that’s the point of storytelling #the fact that you’re sad means they did it right

[meadowsofmay]

sometimes, only sometimes, i think back to the moment when scanlan came back to vox machina — and they had their first night in the scanlan's magnificent mansion after a long while — and scanlan played cards with vax while catching up on things that happened during the year they've been apart — and vax said i am happy and it took scanlan by such surprise he asked again as if he wasn't sure he had heard him right.

the last thing he remembered of vax was him on a really low point, mirrored by his own, filled with pain, guilt, fear and a myriad of unknown troubles atop of that. and then he left to fix himself, find his own, and vax had a moment to do this too, it seems, and scanlan was so happy for him. so happy and so sad he wasn't there to witness it. yet, still happy.

and to think, as i do sometimes, that scanlan wanted vax — now healed, happy vax — to live, to have more time and yet, was forced to choose in a matter of moments between the whole world and a little percent chance of saving his friend. it's so cruel that it happened to be him to make that decision.

it's so cruel that it's sam who had to give up a ninth level spell to stop the mad god and not to save liam's character.

sometimes i just think and sometimes i think i shouldn't...

#tiktok edits keep hurtin me with edits of this particular moments #and i legitimately keep crying #it's just so #hard not to #i miss vax so much #and i am so heartbroken by what kind of life he didn't have #and yet it was a beautiful ending to an impactfull story #and i wouldn't trade this heartbreak for the world #it keep me living #the way it seems sa's c2 character tries to keep liam's c2 character alive #these two #fucking hell these two #vax'ildan #scanlan shorthalt #liam o'brien #sam riegel #vox machina #critical role

[not-with-you-but-of-you]

At first he only came to her when she least expected it, here and there, for a few seconds. She always thought being haunted would be a bad thing, but she wishes she was more haunted, that she was haunted all the time, that she was a ghost too.

Jess is dead. Rory can’t let him go.

To Find The Other Side Of Goodbye

A Literati ghost story by @ernestonlysayslovelythings

#literati fanfiction #fanfic rec #literati #jess mariano #rory gilmore #jess x rory #rory x jess #gilmore girls #literatiedit #jessmarianoedit #rorygilmoreedit #gilmoregirlsedit #my gifs #* #this story is so devastating but so beautiful #definitely one of the most heartbreaking Literati fics out there #go read it and give the author some love 💕

[yourenotdonefighting]

Yes, I watched the entirety of Queen Charlotte in one day. And yes, I am completely and irrevocably destroyed.

#queen charlotte: a bridgerton story #queen charlotte #king george iii #bridgerton #charlotte x george #i am wrecked #i can't stop thinking about these two #their story is so beautiful #and heartbreaking

[the-river-runs]

My best friend Fandom has once again returned and asked me to post to Tumblr for her! Once again, I have permission to post this video and all edits were done by Fandom (http.redshoes on Instagram)

These memes are all based on Cryptid Sightings by @naffeclipse

She has a lot to say this time around!

A message from Fandom:

"Hello Naff!! And hello everyone :D

It’s me, your girl, your local meme and edit maker, Fandom (aka http.redshoes on Insta 😎)

I’ve come back to make another meme comp for you guys! I wanted to make this earlier, but:

1. I was busy saving/collecting ATSV content on Instagram like Pokémon to getting noticed twice by Jack in the Box ☺️

2. I had to create an Ao3 account (understandably ofc AI theft sucks) and was um. You know… being silly in the comment section 👀 (please don’t mind me if you ever stumble upon them - I react and appreciate the stuff I enjoy in weird ways 💔)

3. Was waiting for my friend here to finish reading so I didn’t spoil anything in the memes! We both loved the series so much and man. The Naff do be eclipsing fr in releasing chapters left and right biggest round of applause for one of my favorite authors here 👏👏👏

Naff, you did such a great job writing this fanfic. I’m going to repeat myself from the comment section BUT you need to give yourself a pat on the back, relax, take a break - just reward yourself. You deserve it all and I hope that you take care of yourself for all the hard work you’ve done 💞💞💞

I’ve also included the lovely artist themselves, @themeeplord , again in one of my meme comps.

It’s only one meme but dang they always draw Eclipse to be getting that gain 💪💪💪 (bc of how muscular he is haha.) Mad respect to all of the drawings they create - they’re always a banger to see.

(Most of the memes surround the last episode + epilogue so if you haven’t read those chapters LOOK ‼️ AWAY ‼️ Don’t get spoiled 🤯)

(P.S. for the imagine scenario that’s not a meme, this is what they’re saying in the audio:

“[Amused] You can hear their heartbeats? Come on, that’s a little far fetched.”

“[Soft chuckling] I can hear yours too… Your heart’s beating pretty fast.”

I’d like to think this would take place around the beginning of “The Episode Bedeviling Bodies,” where the Hunter is still trying to understand their dear friend and what they’re capable of. I thought it was fitting ngl and included it in the comp.

There were uh, more memes I wanted to include, but I’m running low on storage space atm. I’ll get back to making more after I’m done clearing that out ^^’)

(P.P.S. Okay I don’t have Tumblr obviously but 🕴️ apparently you guys really liked the SJ memes I made??? Because my friend’s been receiving notifs of it still??? Thank you so much you guys!! I didn’t really expect people to enjoy them that much 😭💘💘💘)

Now without further ado, enjoy the meme comp! >:D " -Fandom

#river says... #bestie posting #cryptid sighting #crytid sightings spoilers #many more memes for everyone to enjoy :) #now that I've caught up to CS i can actually look at these memes hdjssjn #real talk though #crytid sightings is genuinely such a beautiful fic and one of my favorite stories of all time #naff has such an incredible writing style and is such a good storyteller #i really recommend reading CS even if you're not into fnaf #it's such a rollercoaster #the fluff is so sweet and the angst is so heartbreaking #but everything just works #I'm so grateful to have found Naff and her work #she's such a lovely person and an extremely talented author #I am so excited to see what she writes next #especially since the end of CS had me so emotional #i will never get over this fic #sorry for the long rambling tags but i had to gush a little bdjdjsj #hope you guys enjoy the memes <3

[fistfuloflightning]

“You have to come back to me,” she said hollowly, tears falling freely to land with gentle taps on Kenichi’s sling. She could not bear the loss of a second love. It would kill her; she knew it. “I will always come back to you,” he murmured. “So long as I’m able, I will always come back to you.”

Art for @frostyemma’s beautiful fic Two Roads Diverged

#rurouni kenshin #himura kenshin #yukishiro tomoe #himura kenichi #kenshin x tomoe #kentomo #fanfic fanart #my art #two roads diverged #i binged all of the ruroken live actions movies—fell in love—and then promptly died when I watched #rurouni kenshin the beginning #the heartbreak is real #and considering how old the fandom is #I was shocked to find so little content for these two #esp with how beautiful their story is #i guess I shouldn’t be surprised #patron saint of rarepairs here 👋 #so I’m super happy to find at least one Tomoe Lives fic #and that one happens to have everything I needed after watching the Beginning T~T

[jelly-o630]

LAST TIME GOOD OMENS TRENDED WE GOT THE REVEAL THAT ZIRA WAS THINKING “DO THAT AGAIN” AFTER THE KISS WTF HAPPENED THIS TIME

#like seriously #did Neil reveal something else heartbreaking about season 2 #or did all GO fanartists post at the same ti #please I can’t be emotionally devastated by this show AGAIN #one of my fav webtoons had a beautiful sapphic confession last night and it cured me I can’t go back to angst again so soon #good omens season 2 #neil gaiman #the webtoon is called Not So Shoujo love story btw #and it is amazing #good omens

[kimwexlersponytail]

Still feels like I could fall to pieces when I hear your name. Hoping just a little that you feel the same, anyway.

#bcsedit #mcwexler #jimmy x kim #better call saul #bcs spoilers #it probably doesn't look like it but you guys i worked sooooo hard on this lol #saul goodman is a performance! the character is very much a manifestation of his trauma and his heartbreak! #he still loves her and misses her every day and deep down i think he wants to get her attention bc so many parts of saul came from HER #and yet it's all so hollow.....there's no way this story ends without them reuniting period #oh and lyrics are from the second half of know better by tinashe which is a beautiful song btw #i wish i had a few more BB scenes to include in this but my computer is acting so weird i didn't want to risk anything lol #mine

[aeoris4lovers]

thinking about caleb and veth. thinking about this line. crying. thinking about caleb and veth. thinking about this line. crying. thinking about caleb and veth. thinking about this line. crying. thinking ab

#their friendship means so much to me and also destroys me #the way caleb dedicated himself to making sure she could have her body back again even if it meant ensuring he would have to let her go #it was them against the world for so long #but she had a life and a family to get back to #one that she lost but had the chance to get back if he could manage to give it to her #and how could he deprive her of that when he so desperately wanted it for himself and knew the pain of never being able to get it so well #god they make me sick. fucking hell #they mean so much to me they make me want to sob their story is so beautiful their story is so heartbreaking #congratulations liam and sam for making me fucking insane over them #widobrave #caleb widogast #veth brenatto #nott the brave #wizardposting #c2 #the mighty nein

[faggyangel]

like 'i wanna go' doesn't mean he's suicidal, it means 'i've developed friends and family, i've grown, i've experimented and discovered who i am and made peace with it, i've loved everyone i needed to and they loved me back and i know that now. i can let go of the idea of glory and just be with family for the time i have left. i'll sit with ed until i go and tell that i love him, tell him it's okay that i'll be gone because he has people who care for him, it's not just me anymore, i can trust stede to love him, watch him become who he wants to be, i can tell him that i want him to be happy, that he can leave blackbeard behind and be who he is outside of being the legend we made together. ed's loved and protected, the crew is safe, my family is taken care of, and i've done everything i need to.' he doesn't mean 'i wanna go because i don't want to live' it means 'i wanna go, i'm ready, i lived my life and i can let go now' izzy died happy and fulfilled, he died in the arms of the man he loved, surrounded by people who loved him. the crew mourned him by celebrating lucius and pete's love, they mourned him by going forward and avenging him, forming a new family and crew to carry on the legacy of piracy, and most importantly ed is mourning him by doing exactly what izzy told him to do, he's letting blackbeard die and allowing himself to be loved, he moves into a little house with someone who will always love him with izzy's grave and memorial in view, and izzy will always be with ed in so many ways, but especially because he gave him permission to let go of his darkness and become someone better

#to fucking quote d20 and brennan lee mulligan just because because your story ends doesn't mean it didnt happen #his story his development his role was so important and meaningful and death will never take away from that you know? #like it was beautiful and heartbreaking and meaningful and tragic it wasnt a brutal murder it was the end of his story #also yes he was queer no it was not becaude he was gay or anything like that like it was a loss sure #but also even if you do want to compare it to the brutalization of queer ppl which i do think is extreme but going down that road #means honoring those who died and sacrificed and suffered before you by remembering them by going forward making life better for those after #and using that freedom to be better and grow and live your life to the fullest #“where's the queer rage?” the queer rage is within the revenge crew going out and taking back power from the british #ed cant be surrounded by darkness forever let him REST #our flag means death #izzy hands #done tagging spoilers because its been a while since it came out