#shannon run

[buckera]

SHANDIE + blue rotunda by louise glück

[jichanxo]

uhhh um yuri 👍

[desdasiwrites]

– Amanda DeWitt, Aces Wild: A Heist

[theunmappedstar]

will still NEVER be over the fact that kotlc was rejected by so many publishers solely because sophie is a girl. they were convinced the series would never take off because no one would be interested in reading about a female hero.

and this isn’t speculation - shannon admitted on a tour stop i attended that this specific rejection was said to her face. they blatantly admitted that they would not accept, much less offer, a book deal with shannon because her main character is a woman. a fictional main character being female can determine whether or not you get your book published - and that is crazy.

[hippolotamus]

Sunday Sentences 🧜‍♂️

Using this (way more than) Seven Sentence Sunday to answer some Mer!Buck asks for anon, @spotsandsocks @underwaterninja13 @daffi-990 @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming 🧜‍♂️

Follows this snippet

By the time he’s finished his food and paid his bill there’s still plenty of daylight remaining. Plenty of time to find Evan and hopefully enjoy a brief reunion before Eddie has to go. Memories, and the ever present invisible tug, guide him back to the neighborhood near the beach house. Tourist season is over, leaving the streets mostly empty except for a few permanent residents, and homeowners winterizing their properties until the area comes back to life for rentals.

He parks in an hourly lot close to the pier, finally bracing himself for the task of calling Shannon. He could put it off even longer until he’s settled at the end of the pier, waiting for Evan. It feels wrong to mix the two worlds together, though. They’re already dangerously close.

It’s not that he doesn’t want Shannon to know, he plans on telling her, always has, but the timing is never quite right. Between getting to know each other and skipping to the babies and marriage phase, bringing up a childhood friend — who just happens to be a merperson — hasn’t managed to come up. He doesn’t think now is that time either.

With a heavy sigh Eddie dials the number and prepares to lie to his wife. Well, not lie exactly, but it won’t be the whole truth. And he’s going to tell her, so it’s fine. That’s what he keeps telling himself anyway.

“Eddie?! Where the hell are you?”

And, yeah, he deserves that greeting. “I’m, um, I’m in LA actually. Needed to take care of something before Monday.”

There’s a heavy silence before Shannon responds.

“Days before you leave, you suddenly have to take care of ‘something’,” she deadpans. “Care to elaborate?”

The only way out is through at this point, so he pushes on with the closest version of the truth he can give. “I have a friend out here, Evan, and, I don’t know how exactly to explain it, Shan. I’ve known him since we were kids and it’s been a while and I just got this weird feeling that I needed to see him. Listen, I know how weird this probably sounds, but I promise I’ll be back in the morning, and make it up to you and-”

“Eddie.” Shannon interrupts, softer this time. “It’s okay. This can’t- I’m sure it’s not easy for you. I know it’s not for me, and I’m not the one going anywhere.”

“You’re not mad?” He asks lamely.

“No, I’m not mad.” His relief is short-lived. “I’m pissed and we are having a big talk about this when you get back. But at least now I know where you are and that you’re coming home.”

“Baby, I was always-”

“Drive safe. Okay, Eddie?”

He nods, even though she can’t see him. “Yeah, okay. I will. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

tagged by @dangerpronebuddie @bi-buckrights @wikiangela @loveyouanyway @actuallyitsellie

@diazsdimples thank you loves 💞

np tagging (plus Daffi, Spots and Mic!) @jesuisici33 @rmd-writes @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @queerbuckleys

@elvensorceress @bucksbiawakening @giddyupbuck @hoodie-buck @indestructibleheart

@ladydorian05 @lemonzestywrites @monsterrae1 @statueinthestone @slightlyobsessedwitheverything

@the-likesofus @thewolvesof1998 @watchyourbuck @welcometololaland @wildlife4life

@epicbuddieficrecs @a-noble-dragon @tizniz @diazheartsbuckley @weewootruck

@saybiwithme @bidisasterevankinard @shipperqueen6 @ramonaflow @taketheplanspinitsideways

@dangerpronebuddie @theotherbuckley @stereopticons @kitteneddiediaz @your-catfish-friend

@thekristen999 @filet-o-feelings @lizzie-bennetdarcy @rainbow-nerdss @steadfastsaturnsrings

@inell and anyone else who wants to 😘

[therandomfandomme]

Eddie Diaz's main coping strategy truly is run, then fight someone else, huh?

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

may 10, 2013 6:20 p.m. actual hell

[queerdiazs]

tease tidbit tuesday 🫧

hi friends, i'm procrastinating doing my fema courses in favor of watching season 4 <3 have a lil bit of eddie vs the hoa

It’s just—Buck is big and it kind of drives Eddie a little crazy.  Like? God, okay. He’s a little stupid over it. You’ll have to forgive him.  He is so big, right, larger than Eddie and Eddie isn’t a small guy. He’s filled out since finishing his probationary year, settling in his career and getting comfortable in the life he chose for himself and Chris. He’s more functional muscle than big gains; his stomach’s soft, protected by a sweet layer of fat, but his core’s solid and his arms are twice the size they used to be when he was twenty-seven.  See? He isn’t small.  But, like, Buck’s just bigger, wider and broader and thicker, and there’s something so delicious about having somebody that large at his mercy, at his every beck and call. Buck has this quality about him, no matter his size, like he’s always ready to drop to his knees and let himself be taken care of, and it has Eddie’s head buzzing in a way that most definitely isn’t from the beer. 

tagged by @wikiangela, @jeeyuns, @devirnis, @disasterbuckdiaz, and @daffi-990 <3

tagging @spagheddiediaz, @puppyboybuckley, @evanbegins, @honestlydarkprincess, @exhuastedpigeon, @thewolvesof1998, @theotherbuckley, and @monsterrae1 if any of you wanna share!

[trelkez]

Eddie really said "I guess the dead wife I never really connected with while she was alive was the love of my life and I never realized it. I guess I'll just never move on from my dead wife. Never gonna dance again the way I did with my dead wife, who I never danced with in the first place." That man's closet is constructed from 100% grade A dead wife. Is there a rainbow flag inside that closet? An aro flag? I don't know, and neither does Eddie

[daisychainsandbowties]

thinking a normal amount about a treasure planet au. Beatrice on her solar kiteboard, doing the daredevil flip sequence framed against the setting sun and then getting hauled kicking and screaming back to her parents’ house in manacles with a defiant expression on her perpetually dirt-smudged face.

climbing out the window at the first opportunity to go down to the dockside inn, making nebulous plans to steal her kiteboard back but ending up down at the edge of the dock staring past her boots and into the mists. gripping tight to the wood beneath her as she looks up at the sky and dreams of anywhere but here, of stealing a skiff to get off this planet. a reluctant twinge at the thought of going alone.

Bea with all her star maps and her intricate knowledge of spaceships and their solar sails and how to navigate out there where the artigrav net is all that stands between you and floating through nothing, forever.

startling when she hears the familiar sound of someone booking it down the pier on wooden crutches. night has already started to speckle the sky above, and as she listens to the thunk of the crutches on the pier, Bea thinks of the complicated metallic lattice she has on her desk at home, partly disassembled because she’s still trying to work out parts of the engineering. Ava’s birthday is in a month.

she has to stay that long, and then she’ll leave. she will.

turning to watch as Ava races towards her with soup stains on her shirt and messy hair jammed flat beneath a ‘pirate’ hat she bought off of a traveling salesman last year. the tricorn wobbles precariously on her head as she moves. Beatrice just waits, a slight smile on her face.

there are bruises high on each of her arms, from the pincer-like grip of the police bots, manhandling her away from her kiteboard to snap manacles around each wrist.

she rubs at the skin there, but ignores the bruises.

when Ava arrives, a little out of breath, Beatrice holds up a hand so she can help herself down onto the pier. there’s no water beneath them, only a few hundred meters of empty air and curling mist.

Ava keeps one hand on Bea’s and the other on her shoulder, letting the crutches clatter down between them as she sits.

“Mom says you got arrested again,” Ava says cheerfully. “She says they’re threatening to send you to prison.”

Beatrice shrugs, “I wouldn’t mind it, so long as my parents did not visit.”

Ava’s fingers are covered in bright red band-aids, from chopping vegetables all day with her poor hand dexterity. Beatrice watches the colours blur as Ava punches her in the arm, right on the bruises. “Liar, I know you’d miss me.”

her arm throbs painfully, but Beatrice’s expression is carefully neutral as she responds. 

“I might.”

she stays with Ava that night, both of them reading her old book with its floating images of ships and canons and pirates leaping from vessel to vessel. Captain Flint, materialising out of empty space to steal away gems and gold, “the loot of a thousand worlds.” Ava traces the projected lines of the solar sails with her fingers as they flicker into being. 

Beatrice has repaired the book over and over, making the colours brighter and sharper. the tiny shapes of pirates all made up of light. Ava has the book open on Bea’s chest as she lies next to her, legs all entangled in the sheets they’ve kicked off because the night is so warm.

she seems oblivious to how Beatrice’s breath hitches at almost every touch.

they’re almost asleep when they hear the explosion, a ship crashing into the cliff-side, tumbling over and over before they hear the pop and hiss of heated metal. a bloom of smoke outside the window.

Beatrice gives Ava a piggyback ride down the stairs just before Ava’s ‘mom’, Suzanne, emerges with her pulse-rifle primed, hair loose around her shoulders.

they stumble into the yard and discover a pirate, a robot, still bleeding from a wound in his abdomen, crawling from the wreck of his ship. Beatrice heaves a shard of twisted metal away from him and finds the surface slippery with blood.

behind her, Ava sways a little, shivers in the cold air, but she’s still standing when Beatrice turns back to her.

the dying pirate tells them almost nothing useful. he’s half-mad, cluching at Beatrice’s shirt until the seams tear at the collar, then turning to Ava. he fetches out a lockbox from his ship, blood spilling onto the ground at the movement. unlocks it and takes odd sphere from inside.

it drops into Ava’s palm as he rasps, “Whatever you do, don’t let them find it.”

then he wheezes, shudders, stills.

they stare at him, Ava’s free hand finding Bea’s, holding tight.

“Is he… dead?” Ava’s voice in the silence and the dark.

“I think so.”

then, in a burst of light and sound, in a shockwave of displaced air, a ship plummets down out of the clouds, pulling up an instant from the ground.

this second ship looms down out of the sky, pirates dropping from it and suddenly Suzanne is screaming at them to “GET INSIDE” from an upstairs window as she takes potshots at the misshapen shapes swarming down lines of hempen rope.

the air lights up with orange and yellow as explosions ripple down towards the crashed ship, towards the inn. Bea flings one of Ava’s arms around her neck and sprints for the door, Ava holding the sphere (or map?) tightly against her chest.

she sets Ava down gently onto one of the bar stools, runs back to barricade the door. her face is flushed, streaked somehow with engine grease and robot blood, which is black and slightly acidic. 

they exchange a wide-eyed look, too much meaning in it to parse as explosions rock the floor. Ava has both hands clutched around the sphere. 

they both almost scream as Suzanne runs down the stairs in a blur of dressing gown and gun. she has Ava’s crutches in one hand and her rifle in the other. she kisses Ava quickly on the forehead, “Thank the tides you’re safe.” leaves her with the crutches and then goes to fetch an ancient-looking blaster pistol out from behind the bar, presses it into Beatrice’s hands. “You know how to use this?”

“No!”

“Aim it away from your own face.”

and then there are pirates all around the house, glass breaking and fire crackling. Beatrice takes up the rear, pistol pointed at the front door as it bulges under the pressure of pirates flinging their bulk into it again and again. 

they climb out of a window, Suzanne producing a kitchen knife and jamming it into the neck of a pirate loitering uncertainly outside the bolted shutters. there, covered by a tarp, is Suzanne’s old motorcycle with a sidecar attached. lantern-bugs scatter out from under it as Suzanne throws the old tarp away, gestures for Beatrice and Ava to climb in as she covers them with her rifle.

there’s a roar from somewhere in the dark and Suzanne fires a shot, hops onto the motorcycle and revs the engine. then they’re moving, pirates parting before them like the ocean neither of them have ever seen, the vast bodies of water that don’t even exist on this planet.

they seek refuge with Jillian, an archaeologist who frequents the old inn, claiming that she can’t make her coffee taste of anything but soap. she examines the orb, reluctantly passed into her hands by Ava, her and Bea wrapped in an old blanket, sitting by the fire in Jillian’s immense study.

Jillian fiddles with it for an age before sighing, looking almost angry with herself.

“I can’t… seem to make this work.”  

Ava holds out her hand, silent. “let me try,” and Beatrice makes a face at Jillian when she hesitates.

the pirate gave the sphere to Ava; it’s hers. 

it seems much larger in Ava’s small grip. she looks down at it for a while before her fingers start to move, slow but gathering momentum as she presses the little grooves and switches and indents on the sphere. 

until it lights up, showing a map of the known universe, and parts of it that are unknown.

“Is that-” Beatrice feels her words drop away, like the ground beneath the pier where she has passed so many hours sitting with Ava’s hand in hers.

Ava turns to Beatrice, eyes bright as a pair of stars, “It’s treasure planet.”

[book--brackets]

Round 1, Poll 13: Running Out of Time vs Ever After High

[tommygettingwrittenoff]

i need them to put eddie in a coma so he can have his own little coma dream realization

[to-be-a-dreamer]

And if I make a full post talking about how Abby, Shannon, and Taylor were actually really interesting and compelling characters that were just wildly mishandled by the writers and weren't allowed to fully explore their own motivations or personalities outside of being a love interest then what?

This is a threat.

[lookforanewangle]

plotting out a fic while I clean and thinking about how the most important people to buck and eddie (maddie and shannon respectively) both ran and left behind a note. not sure what to do with this information yet but it's percolating

[lyricalchrysanthemum]

My insignificant archeology gets me to the mysteries of the profound past, when the tiny light in the palm of my hand lights up the beginning of the world, like this.

"Go love this world," you said. Without knowing your name, similar to the way you breathe, the song of the Cretaceous rings out.

I asked if I could be born into this world, "Sure," you replied. The moment you chose me, I had chosen you, too.

[1][2][3]

[eddiedisasterdiaz]

I’m so mad about the Eddie infidelity arc. Aside from absolutely hating cheating storylines to start with, it just feels so out of character for him, even if he is a complete mess right now. Man was completely faithful to Shannon the entire two years they were separated—cheating is not something he would do.