#she is my hamster i am putting on the wheel
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gideonisms · 13 days ago
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I truly do have gideon nav derangement syndrome so bad like I will think about her acting a little goofy and have to lie down and throw up due to the force of how much I love her
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replenaryindulgence · 3 months ago
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Before the Light
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Azriel x Calida (ka-lee-duh)/Reader
Summary: After getting lost in the woods on a camping trip and finding herself in an unfamiliar land, 22-year-old Cal must decide what she's willing to do to get back to her life if she still wants it.
Word count: 5.5k
Warnings: Panic, creepy guy in the woods
a/n: I know there’s a lot of backstory, I promise it’s worth getting through! I really wanted to set the stage and for you to get to know our MC.
I didn't intend for this to be so long, but d*mn my little hamster brain kept running on that wheel!!! The MC's name might seem a little strange, it's of Irish origin & I thought it was pretty and unique. Also, she's a redhead because so am I and me plus Azriel equals two (iykyk). Plz let me know what you think! Thinking about throwing in a slight love triangle moment with Morrigan eventually because how dramatic would that be & because our reader might be a little bi aren't we all? Strap in!!!
I'll try to update this as soon as I can! It might be a week or so. (P.S. my asks are always open! Thanks for bearing with me while I relearn how to use tumblr lol)
 Chapter 1
“I don’t think we’re doing this right. No, definitely not, this piece is supposed to bend across that one.” 
“You suck at this An,” Jack threw back. 
“I suck at this? You didn’t get it right either asshole,” Annie quipped. 
You shook your head, amused by the twins struggling to put together the first tent. The ground beneath the large pines was littered with dried needles, perfect for kindling. Circling around, you collected them into your jacket pocket.
“You hearing this, Cal?” Jack called out to you.
Turning to face your friends, you couldn’t help but laugh. 
“You guys are ridiculous,” You threw back, reaching for a small pine cone at your feet and rolling it in your palm.
You walked back and tossed your growing pile of fire-starter near the center of the clearing. It was still a few hours from dusk, but the hike had been long and you were eager to set up and be done with it. Jack and Annie were tasked with the tents while Brooke gathered rocks for the fire pit and scouted the area, something about checking for bears. A ridiculous idea, you had thought, though if you trusted anyone here with your life it was probably Brooke. Your guess was she wanted to get away from the bickering for a while.
The sweat from the hike still clung to your skin, sitting sticky and uncomfortable beneath your jacket. It’s much cooler now than it had been on the trip in. You touched the back of your hand to your nose to warm it. The sun’s rays peeked through the ever-rising pines, and you welcomed the sparse heat. Closing your eyes, you tilted your head back and let the afternoon look at you. Your feet shuffled slightly until light touched your face, and vibrant red filled your vision from behind closed lids. This moment reminded you of being a kid, observing and learning about the world around you. You tried to remember the last time you felt peace like you did now. It seemed as though no matter how hard you tried to clutch it, life slipped quickly through your fingers like sand. The years passed and suddenly, nothing was the same. But, this moment felt still; the sun was warm, and the lake welcomed you back with familiar hands.
”You’ve been a real help,” Jack whispered, startling you. His arm brushed yours, you smiled at the sky. 
“It’s nice that we’re staying out here. I love the cabin, but I think we could all use the seclusion,” you responded, meeting his eyes. He nodded back, folding his arms. Brown hair stuck to his forehead, damp with sweat. 
“Seclusion, huh?” He teased. 
“Seclusion, isolation, freedom from the expectations and burdens of society,” you replied dramatically.
“Okay, Thoreau, can we get some help sorting through the bags?” He questioned.
Before you could respond, you saw movement beyond the trees. Brooke approached and Jack walked over to help her with the arm full of small rocks she carried. 
“No sign of bears,” she stated shortly. “Only one tent? I’ve been gone for twenty minutes.” 
Brooke wasn’t angry, she just had a way about her. A way that was quick to say what was on her mind, and without much thought to how it would be taken. You learn to let it roll off of you when you’ve known someone for years. She’d been your and Annie’s suitemate freshman year. As a sensitive person, you found her bluntness unpleasant, but Annie liked her, and eventually, you came around. 
You’ve known Jack and Annie longer than you can remember. Your parents were once very close; you’d spend weeks out of the year at their cabin just east of the lake. When your parents divorced it got ugly and uncomfortable, like a festering wound, until neither of them came back to the cabin. You were grateful for that. The cabin, the lake, it remained a place untouched by the crumbling debris of your parents’ failed marriage. Jack’s mom had pulled you aside and assured you that you’d always have a place with them. You knew she meant it. Mrs. Henley, Ruth, was a soft-spoken woman, but always sincere. 
The cabin was almost two hours from the water by car, if cabin was the right word for it. You never talked about how much money the Henleys had, and they didn’t seem to care what your family had in comparison. The twins’ Dad, Eric, ran a few publishing companies in Washington, one in Oregon. After graduation, Mr. Henley lined up an internship for you as an editorial assistant, and asked you to persuade Jack to stay in Washington and work for him. A fruitless task, you were sure. Jack was over living out west, he wanted to travel the states, maybe move abroad for a while. No entry level job at his Dad’s company would sway a 22 year old from the intrigue of adventure.
A month ago, Annie suggested we spend these last few weeks before the fall, fully together. Camping was never your favorite, but you couldn’t say no to Annie. Not when you knew she was right. After graduation, you’d spent the summer mostly together, in your apartments in Seattle, at the Henley’s house in the city, or at the cabin. It felt right, it felt how it always did. But now, the discomfort of change was more tangible, less abstracted by time. Jack was talking of moving east with a friend you’ve known since high school and Brooke was heading to Alaska for grad school. Lucky for you, Annie didn’t seem in a rush to solidify plans, besides staying in the city. Who could blame her, with parents like that? 
You joined Annie in the one set-up tent, helping her spread a blanket over one of the thin camping mattresses. You worked silently, unpacking a small pillow, another blanket, and hooking a portable light onto where the poles crossed inside the tent. 
“You don’t need my permission, you know,” Annie said, breaking the silence. 
You furrowed your brows. “Permission? For what?” You continued looking through the bags, setting one aside and adjusting the blanket beneath you.
"With Jack," She said, smiling at your confused look as she grabbed a bag of peanut M&M’s from her bag. She tilted her head back, letting a few fall into her mouth.
You didn’t know what to say. “It’s not like that,” you assured.
”It’s always like that,” she smiled at you, offering the sweets in her hand. 
You took them, rolling your eyes. Annie assumed everyone was in love. You were definitely a romantic, but you also knew what disinterest looked like. You and Jack had shared a few lingering touches and almost-moments on drunken nights, but it didn’t sway you to gamble your friendship on the possibility that he was interested in anything serious. You were content wondering what could have been. You were typically more fond of fiction, anyway.
“Annie, come help me finish setting this up,” Jack called. She smiled at you once more before disappearing from the tent. You laid back, thankful for the swift death of the conversation. 
… 
The second tent was up much quicker than the first. You had organized them; Annie and Jack’s bags in one, Brooke’s and yours in the other. A small pile of sticks and pine needles glowed atop a circle of rock in the center of the camp. Jack and Brooke had found a small log and somehow managed to carry it over. You sat on it with Jack, rubbing your neck, the ghostly weight of your bag on your shoulders. You tried to pack light, but you brought a few books along; a mystery about a kidnapping that took place at a summer camp, some fairy book Brooke had suggested, and, possibly, one too many sweaters, which added some weight. 
The sun was setting now, teasing the horizon with a gentle touch, and although it meant the temperature would plummet, you were eager for sleep. The heels of your feet ached, your calves felt stiff, and you were sure you needed to drink more water. 
Brooke poked at the fire while Annie was engrossed in her phone, probably looking at pictures she'd taken on the hike in. You and Jack shared dried mango slices while you searched the shared playlist Brooke made for the trip. All Things End by Hozier began playing, and you smiled absentmindedly at the memory of hearing it live.
"Everyone is so quiet," Annie said, interrupting the hiss of the crackling embers. She and Brooke sat on a blanket across from you.
“I’m exhausted,” You responded with a yawn, staring vacantly beyond the campground. You thought you could spot the glitter of sunset on the distant water. 
“Let’s get in the lake,” she laughed. “The cold is supposed to be good for your nervous system, or something.”
The prospect of dipping into the lake woke your body slightly, sending a buzz down your spine. You liked the rush of adrenaline, the euphoria following it. 
“I’m in,” you responded with a smile. Brooke looked behind her, towards the direction of the water, and back with a scrunched nose, but eventually agreed. You turned to Jack, he only groaned. Still, he stood, mumbling something about how men weren’t built for cold water. Tell that to the Vikings, you thought.
You grabbed the thin towels from your tent, and headed towards the water. 
Pebbles crunched beneath your boots. It was a short walk to the mouth of the lake, Brooke had chosen a good spot to camp. You quickly stripped them along with most of your clothes, leaving you in a thin bra and hiking shorts. You dipped one foot in the water, wincing at the temperature. Your friends stripped behind you, while you tried not to lose your nerve. Jack was taking pictures of the sunset from a few feet away, and you quickly slipped out of your shorts while he was preoccupied. Brooke and Annie took to your sides, and the three of you stood apprehensively at the edge of the lake, glancing over the water that expanded before you.
“It’ll be worse if we think too much about it,” Annie said, folding her arms to hold her body.
Brooke took a few brave strides and sank below the surface, cursing as she came up, before tilting her head back and letting the water caress her. Annie squealed before following suit. You blew out a huff of air, trying and failing to compartmentalize the chill in the water. When it got to your stomach your body shivered. No, this definitely wasn’t helping your aching muscles. You pressed on. 
The water kissed your chest, then your shoulders. Finally, you gave in, dipping your head under. It wasn’t unbearable, but you weren’t sure you’d last long. You felt your pulse slightly in the back of your head as you swam under the surface. It had been almost 80 degrees today, but the water refused to acknowledge that. You broke the surface with a gasp, turning to face your friends who hovered near the edge of the lake. Why had you been so enthusiastic about this idea? You watched as Jack strolled over and dropped his clothes in a pile near the rest, quickly avoiding his gaze. Annie called out to him that it wasn’t so bad, and he shook his head in disagreement as he stood with the water just above his knees. He folded his arms, holding himself how Annie had. You stilled, lowering your head so your nose and eyes peaked just above the surface, and watched him sink further. You took a breath and sank below once more.
You had always loved the water. Brooke said it was biological, that it calmed something in the animal of us to be near it. When you were younger you pretended you were the half-blood offspring of Poseidon, counting how long you could hold your breath in it before your lungs felt like fire and you got light-headed. 
You felt something touch your hand, and you lifted yourself from the water and your daydreaming. Jack had swum out, treading water as he watched the sun set over the mountains behind you. Water trickled down his face, gathering in his lashes, and his golden skin was cast in a reddish-golden light. He looked ethereal. 
Turning, you faced the sunset. The sun lit the sky beyond the mountains in the most vibrant hues of red and orange. Where the darkening sky above you met the sun, pale shades of pink gathered. There was a good ten minutes of light left, and you thought that you’d never forget this moment. The beauty of it burned into your eyes. You saw it even as you blinked.
You broke the peaceful silence, "It feels like everything’s changing. I hate it." Change felt like putting on a new leather jacket. It chafed in all the wrong places.
He sighed, “Everything is changing. I for one am excited to leave this oppressive ass place.”
You thought of the vastness of the city, the lake that expanded before you, the mountains that climbed ahead, and wondered how anyone could call this oppressive. You knew he meant the people, but the city was big and it seemed like an excuse for wanting to leave. You stayed silent, sifting through your thoughts. 
“Dad sure is glad you’re staying. At least one of us won’t disappoint him.” He added, wiping his short hair back from his face.
You laughed at the idea of his Dad ever being disappointed in either him or Annie. Their parents were unusually understanding people. Of course he wanted his kids close to home but he never was the type to force anyone’s hand. Sometimes, you thought Jack wanted a reason to brood. 
“He wants you to stay, but I know he’ll live vicariously through you wherever you go, he’s an adventurer at heart. Maybe we can write about it when you get back,” you replied, smiling as you thought of the times you sat around their Dad’s faded armchair as he read you and the twins stories. He filled your minds with images of half-human creatures and monsters that swallowed ships whole. Of wars waged over beautiful women. Greedy dragons and cursed rings. 
He replied with a smile and a ‘maybe’, and you pictured his portrait in the back of a travel book. ‘Everyone has a story to tell,’ His Dad had said to him years ago. 
You heard laughter and splashing behind you as your friends jumped out of the lake. 
“You’re just like him,” he added, nudging your arm underwater. You raised your brows in question.
He continued, “You should come with me. No author came up with anything interesting to say by staying put. New York, maybe Italy, or Ireland. You’d get plenty of inspiration there.” 
“I want to be where the publishing action is,” you joke, “And I’m no storyteller, at least not yet.” 
“Yeah right, you’re a natural,” He adds, “You’ve got an eye for it.” 
You admired how sure Jack was. You liked how it felt to be near him, it put you at ease. He smiled and you could just picture late nights in the sticky bars of Dublin and Vespa rides along the coast.
Of course, you’d agree you had an eye for storytelling, otherwise you'd have wasted the last four years of your life. But, you didn’t have the option of relying on your rich parents for support as you found yourself at the Cliffs of Moher. The Pacific North-West was beautiful, you couldn't believe anyone would want to leave. You’d travel one day, maybe after you’d settled into your career. Until then, this would have to do. You looked out as the sun took its last breath, bowing to the mountains, passing its watch over to the moon. 
“Let’s go, I’m freezing!” Annie called out from the shore. 
"I’ll start dinner," Brooke added, attempting to shake the last of the water from her short hair. 
You didn’t wait for Jack as you made your way to them. You hurried out, thankful for the thin veil of darkness as you dried off. Jack dressed beside you, his hair falling in short ringlets over his brows. He caught your eye and you pulled your towel over your head, hiding your face, and squeezing the lake from your hair. 
The fire started quickly, and you ate slightly gummy re-hydrated pasta that Ruth made for the trip with her food dehydrator. You were sure this was the first time they’d used it. Shortly after dinner you fell prey to the lull of darkness and excused yourself with a ‘good night’ leaving your friends by the fire. The blankets in the tent felt damp. Great. Your sweats, thankfully, weren’t as bad. You fell asleep to hushed conversation, burrowing deep into your hooded sweatshirt. 
You awoke to a sharp, shining light. Brooke was reading something next to you. How long had you been asleep? You hummed a greeting, burying your face further into your blanket, and sank deeply into the comfort of sleep.
The next day consisted of meals around the fire and a short hike to get a better view of the mountains. You trailed behind your friends, deep in thought as you failed to push away Jack’s suggestion that what you needed was travel. You thought of Bilbo refusing to leave the Shire. 
Annie crept scarcely close to the edge of a boulder and you tried to hide your worried face while Brooke took her photo. They pulled you in for a group one, and you held tightly to Brooke as she captured your smiling faces.
The day seemed shorter than the one before, the sunset was more of a dulled pink, dimmed by low-hanging clouds. You made s’mores and failed at telling ghost stories around the fire before turning in early. You grabbed the fairy book from your bag, deciding the mystery should be read in the safety of daylight. You were on page 32 when Brooke joined you, crawling into the tent and kicking pine needles onto your blanket. 
“I swear fantasy writers all had a meeting and committed to only writing weak, sex-depraved female leads,” You tell Brooke as she slips into her sleepwear. 
“That or they become the best fighters and magicians all of a sudden. Can’t a girl just be a girl?” She adds.
You laughed in agreement and attempted to discuss the female archetype in fairy lands while she settled in. You pressed your legs to hers for warmth, and she opened a book about the history of the local tribes in Washington. Your thoughts drifted from the page, unable to comprehend the last paragraph of world-building you attempted to read twice, and you let your head fall back to your pillow. The serenade of cicadas filled your ears, and you tried to commit the sound to memory. A vision tugged at you, of laying on a porch swing in your mother's arms, listening to the cicadas call as she read to you from your book about flower fairies. You laugh at how little you’ve changed, and how much you’ve changed.
“My mom used to read me this fairy book when I was a kid. I’ve probably heard it a thousand times, and I swore I saw fairies in my backyard. My grandma told me if there was a ring of mushrooms, a fairy had been there and I looked all over the yard for them,” you admitted, the memory vivid and colorful in your mind.
“My brother and I used to build little homes for them out of sticks and leaves,” she added. You enthusiastically agreed, remembering sitting outside of your grandparents’ house arranging pieces of earth with your cousins. Hours content in the world of your imagination. You missed that part of yourself, the child in you. You thought of her as you drifted asleep.
The next day the sky was filled with thick puffs of soft gray clouds, the air cooler than it'd been a few days ago. You started the morning off slowly, accompanied by Annie as you laid on a blanket near the water and read. Lunch had been brought to the lake, the four of you determined to spend the whole day in this spot. 
Hours later you sat, Jack at your side, and watched as Annie and Brooke swam further and further out. So far this week you’d gone hiking, swimming, read your books, and walked around looking at fauna. You weren’t sure what camping for a week looked like. The longest you’d camped out was two nights, and it was technically in the backyard of the twins’ house. 
“What time are your friends getting here?” You asked Jack as you chewed the inside of your lip. He sat with his arms resting on his knees beside you.
"Mmm, around five I think," he responded, glancing at his watch. 
A few of Jack’s friends were coming to camp for the rest of the week. They were nice guys, and you weren’t exactly feeling antisocial, but you wished it would have stayed just the four of you. 
“Dylan’s bringing is his girlfriend I think,” he added.
You hummed in response. You liked her, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.
Mirroring Jack, you looked at your watch; 4:14. Wanting to spare yourself from awkward small talk and having to help set up tents, you decided you’d go for a run along the shore soon. The energy bites Brooke had made and the coffee you drank with lunch were making you restless, anyway. You sat with Jack a little longer, and at half past four you stood, slipping back into your shoes. 
Jack laughed amusingly when you told him of your plan, seeing through your avoidant ploy, but he just reminded you to be careful and to be back before dark or they’d have to form a search party. You called out to Brooke and Annie and they both echoed a warning too. A ‘be careful’, and a ‘bring your charger just in case.’
Back at camp, you threw your small solar charger into your jacket pocket, along with a granola bar, and drank from your water bottle. Anxious thoughts filled your mind, though you weren’t sure why. You’d woken up slightly on edge this morning and chalked it up to the company arriving soon. The path you’d run would be easy and mindless, no reason to worry. You’d stick to the shoreline, and come back the same way long before it got dark; the shore near the camp would be unmistakable. You took a breath and willed your stomach to settle.
You tied your hair up, swinging it to your back, then wrapped your jacket around your waist and began jogging towards the water. You’d gotten a little addicted to running this past year. It trained your breathing and focused your mind, something you’ve been trying and failing to do all your life. In Seattle, you always ran the same four-mile route from your apartment to around the park and back. It took you a few weeks to map down the perfect path. Past the gift shop at the end of the block, steering clear of the traffic near the middle school a half-mile down, and along the widest sidewalk that led to the park closest to your apartment. You focused on your breath and willed your anxious mind to focus on your surroundings. The pines loomed above you, it almost made you dizzy to look at them. The water reflected the mood of the sky. You could see a small group of people kayaking in the water towards the East side of the lake. 
One mile down. 
Deep breath in, deep breath out. The trees thinned out near the edge of the lake and the view was stunning. You sometimes felt like you couldn’t fully experience how beautiful it was here, not in the moment. It would hit you on the way home or when you’d get your film back from being developed. You almost brought your camera but decided it wasn’t worth the risk.
Two miles down.
Stopping, you caught your breath as you snapped a photo with your phone, then slid it back into the band of your leggings and picked up your pace. Your mind drifted to the book you were reading. 
Three miles down. 
Your headphone cord swung annoyingly across your chest, and sweat started to prickle your forehead. A large boulder sat in your path and you swerved around it. 
Shit. You threw your hands up on instinct, hitting something hard. Blinking for a moment, you steadied yourself. How had you not seen this tree? You brought your fingers to your face and winced as your eyebrow stung. Your eyes fell to the blood prickling the back of your hand. You felt it suddenly, the annoying ache of scraped skin and you cursed yourself for being unobservant. You looked at your watch with a sigh; 5:09. You tried not to let your injury annoy you as you turned to start the journey back towards camp. 
Your heart sank. Head darting back and forth, then behind you. Eyebrows knit in confusion.
The lake was gone.
Ripping your headphones out, you scanned the forest before you. What the hell?
Okay, you thought, don’t freak out, don’t panic. Just think. Did you accidentally run further from the shore? You knew the lake was North and camp was West. You looked above you for the sun to verify, but the clouds had gotten even thicker. You scanned the forest confused, trying to find the boulder you had swerved just moments ago. How hard had you hit your head?
Shit. You grabbed your phone and opened the compass app to verify your direction, chewing on your lip nervously as it loaded. You sighed in relief, yes you were facing North. If you walked forward there’s no way you wouldn’t see the lake soon. 
Goosebumps prickled your arms and neck. When did it get so cold?
Throwing on your jacket, you tucked your headphones into your pocket and gripped your phone anxiously. You took deep breaths and tried to settle the sick feeling in your stomach. You’d be fine. 
You walked further and further North, anxiety creeping up into your body with each step. You settled into a light jog and searched for anything familiar. The minutes dragged on. The panic set in. You checked your watch again; 5:15. Keep going.
Darkness flashed suddenly in the corner of your eye and stopped you in your tracks. You swung your head toward where it’d appeared. Your ragged breathing broke the suffocating silence of the forest. Your anxiety screamed into your mind, animal, and all you could think of was Brooke’s comment about bears, but there was nothing. Just you and the never-ending expanse of trees. Did you have a concussion?
The wind howled behind you, and your body reacted before your mind. Shivers ran up your spine into your neck and you ran. Hopping over fallen branches and swerving between trees. The forest grew thicker, swallowing you whole. You felt your vision tunneling; you were panicking but you couldn’t stop moving. You spotted a clearing ahead and prayed to whoever was listening that it was the shoreline. A low-hanging branch scraped your shoulder as you reached the field. The field. Not the shore. Your eyes searched wildly. 
The darkness appeared again, but stood still. 
Not darkness, but pure blackness against the muted brown trunks of the forest. You turned to face it, and there, at the edge of the clearing stood a man in a black suit.
All thoughts left your mind. Something in your DNA clawed at you to run, but you stood, perhaps in shock, staring at this man before you. He was much taller than you, you could tell even through the distance, with golden skin and hair black as night. 
Seemingly out of thin air, another man appeared by his side. Something covered him, or hung behind him, extending above his head. They looked like… What the hell? Was there a group of guys out here role-playing? Your head ached, this wasn’t happening, this had to be a hallucination, maybe from the injury and the anxiety.
The man in the suit took a step further into the clearing and slipped his hands into his pockets. You stood frozen at the edge of the clearing. He cocked his head to the side and squinted, seemingly assessing you. You thought of the group you saw kayaking and a small amount of hope hit you. Of course you weren’t the only people out here, you were bound to run into someone. You could ask for directions back to the lake. If they were playing make-believe in the forest that was their business. A woman with a long brown braid and a dark leather suit walked into view next and you took a calming breath. A woman. 
You swallowed your panic but it stuck in your throat as you took a step forward and lifted your hand to wave. You hoped they didn’t see you shaking. There was a woman, yes, but the two men kept you at edge. Everything seemed out of place.
“Hey, sorry you startled me,” you began with a nervous laugh. “I was running along the shore but I went a little too far, do you know how much further North the lake is from here?” you inquired, heart beating in your throat.
No answer. The suited man looked to the woman next to him, and the man with the giant fake wings kept his arms held tightly at his thighs. Seconds passed.
“Your costumes are great,” you added, trying to sound at ease, and gesturing to the man’s wings. He took a step forward, but the suited man stopped him. 
Time to go whispered into your mind and you managed a tight smile, as you took a few small steps away. 
“Well, I better head back to my group,” you called out. You needed to put more distance between you. You needed to get the hell out of here. 
You started to jog away, but something shot out into your path. You slammed to a stop. Another man, with shoulder-length brown hair half-tied up, clad in black leather gear and the same towering wings rising above his head stood before you. What the hell? He looked at you with creased brows, and glanced at the group of people to your right. He pressed his lips in a line, eyes darting back to you. Your heart raced; you felt like prey. Every hair on your body stood and every instinct told you to run, but the man in front of you was huge. At least six foot five.
You had to go. Whatever this was, you needed to remove yourself from it. They couldn’t run very fast with those things hanging on their back, anyway, right? You took a step back and glanced beside you. You could break for the trees and start heading West.
You began to move, but something stopped you like you'd run into an invisible wall. Whipping around, the suited man now stood before you, just feet away. Your eyes met his. They almost glowed an unnatural purple. He was handsome, they all were, which freaked you out even more. The man next to him looked at you sternly, like he was assessing a threat. What the hell is this?
"I need to get back to my friends, they’re waiting for me," you lied, straining to keep your voice even. 
The man spoke back in a language you couldn’t understand. You tried to pick out familiar words but the dialect was too strange. It wasn’t Native, or any of the Latin languages from what you could tell. You looked to the woman who stood slightly further back, with pure plea written on your face. Her eyes softened and she spoke back in the unfamiliar language. She would help, you convinced yourself. 
They conversed once more. You took a step back, but hands wrapped around your arms tightly, fingers digging into the sleeves of your jacket. You tried jerking them away, but the long-haired man held firm.
Panic now coursed through you in a dam-less stream. “Please, just let me go, what do you want?” you begged them all, looking to the woman once more. She and the suited man exchanged glances before turning to face you. So this is how you’d die, crossed your mind. What kind of sick game had you stumbled into?
The man spoke once more and took a step closer. You looked to the man at his side, the one with towering wings. His hazel eyes met yours. You searched his face, what you were looking for you didn’t know. Sympathy maybe? His jaw loosened slightly and he held your stare. 
You turned to the purple-eyed man before you and pleaded again. He responded, nodding, but you didn’t understand. Tears filled your eyes. A scream pierced your ears. Your scream. It tore its way up your throat as a hot, white pain pierced your brain like a jagged knife. Your knees gave out, but the hands gripping you kept you upright. A golden-brown light filled your blurring vision. Your head fell back, heavy, and your mouth hung open in agony as your body finally gave in.
Darkness washed over you.
...
Ahhh! I'm so nervous to post this but so excited! Already getting started on Chapter 2. Sorry this was so long LMAO I just really wanted to set the scene for some hard-core angst.
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apdreadful · 15 days ago
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Since the election I have deactivated some of my social media. Blocked some people I never should have ever engaged with to begin with, and unfollowed several accounts on IG that just don’t bring me joy.
And 911onabc was one.
Is it because Buck & Tommy didn’t end together? No. I’m a grown ass adult. I can be irritated by the something and not be dramatic or hateful about it.
It was because several storylines lately have been complete bullshit.
They start strong with solid good storytelling. But then..eh we’re bored. Only whatever we do absolutely can not make sense!
The lazy fucking way they wrote Christopher’s character out, and that weird ass doppelgänger storyline.
New season? Let’s start by putting Bobby and Athena through to some major disaster! Hey it worked last season! Let’s do it again! (Do not even get me started on that fucking drug cartel shit..what the hell even was that??)
We are only allowed to have one character or couple drama free at a time. And if we can’t come up with a plausible way to create discord or havoc, we’ll just do some stupid shit instead!
Spend several seasons showing the deep strong bond between Eddie and Christopher. Gavin’s family moves? Just make it something dumb..but fast! I know let’s have him get mad at his dad and ask to move in with his grandparents!! Never mind he’d never do that!
The amount of psychological trauma they have inflicted on Maddie. The near death experiences of Chimney. Jesus. Just what tf?
Hmmm. Karen and Hen..the fans would revolt if we broke them up. So let’s go after their kids!! And we can’t make it about them being gay! Let’s create this over the top villain Councilwoman Ortiz. Who’s the mother of that drunk coked up dude from the accident. Only we absolutely cannot have Hen or anyone defend what happened or shut that shit down by saying “Your son was a fucking menace and maybe if you hadn’t kept covering for him he would have gotten some fucking help and not caused an accident.” Also do not mention Hen was cleared of all wrong doing. Nope. Logic has no place here!
Ok so the fans have been clamoring for Buddie. But Eddie Diaz is straight. Period.
So hey! Let’s make Buck bisexual. And tell everyone we are getting him off the hamster wheel (because really, we’ve given him the emotional depth of a teaspoon for a while now)..And his love interest/boyfriend should be Tommy Kinard, who used to work at the 118, and we will invest time to give him a compelling backstory, and lay a ton of Easter eggs showing how richly we can mine this pairing and these characters.
And make them HAPPY for several episodes. Blissfully in love. And then totally out of the blue, let’s break them up. But the reason has to be complete bullshit, totally against character out of left field BULLSHIT. Like they should start out the episode great and about 80 percent in..wait! Let’s also make him the SAME Tommy Abbie from season one was engaged to before she started banging Buck! And then let’s make Tommy who is so into Buck it’s palpable, dump him because he’s afraid of getting his heart broken! Even though it’s one of the most tired, overdone, stupid tropes ever!!
Yeah. I don’t know WTF is going on in the writers room I would swear it’s like there’s this talented group of writers who start stories, and then they go out in Wilshire Blvd and ask some random person on the street to write the ending, but they have to do it, right there in the next 20 minutes.
No I am not going to stop watching 911 forever. I just don’t really want to see them on my IG. This last stunt, sparked only incredulity and scorn.
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nqueso-emergency · 3 months ago
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https://www.tumblr.com/nqueso-emergency/760449608284553217/because-you-are-okay-with-us-rambling-a-bit-i-am
Glad to see you agree!
and also - yes, i’m so glad you mentioned how buck doesn’t go to eddie for moral advice. he talks to him, sure, but if you pay attention he does it so he can vent or sometimes ask for eddie’s opinion. but he doesn’t ask him what he should do or for any moral guidance. for that he has bobby and maddie. and hell, he’s happy to go to hen, too, and she talks to him in a way that clearly helps buck.
and also to go in a bit deeper on one of my points - it’s with things like this that their dismissal of maddie gets on my nerves. i’ve lost count of the amount of posts and even fanfics that put eddie and chris as being buck’s ’true family’ and that put maddie down consistently. even the ones that aren’t as bad has maddie acting as a distant relative instead of one of the main pillars in buck’s life.
my most hated take on this, actually, is when they always make a point of chris being buck’s anchor to reality or his reason to fight. and every time i see a scene of buck writing his will and leaving everything to chris, a fairy dies.
does he value eddie and chris? of course! but to say he loves and values them leagues above his sister, the person that raised him?? even when maddie left him, buck has shown to be deeply grateful for what she did for him.
maddie’s been his (platonic) person his whole life. and it’s so frustrating to see buddies denying or pushing down that relationship, as well as minimizing jee’s role in buck’s life as his niece.
maybe i am biased because the buckley siblings have my heart, but it gets on my nerves. they have one of the strongest bonds and whilst the series sometimes neglects to have scenes with them, it’s undeniable.
No you're so fucking right! I adore the Buckley siblings and I can't stand when people basically replace her with the Diaz family.
Look at everything Maddie has done for Buck and vice versa.
Maddie literally gave Buck his freedom while ultimately sacrificing her own. And then, instead of being resentful, she kept up with his postcards, and she even saved them. The most important thing imo that she did/does for Buck is that she never judges him or tells him he's stupid or dumb or anything to that degree. It's very similar to the way Athena approaches Buck as well.
Then we have Buck. Who always has his sister's back. When Doug found Maddie, Buck broke the law to take matters into his own hands to find his sister. Their bond is one I really hope we get to see more of because it's so important to showcase.
I really want a scene where they can both discuss how happy they both finally are, similar to that hamster wheel conversation.
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ranbling · 6 months ago
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Sending this anonymously bc i don’t wanna get the b/t stans attacking me for saying my observation, but this is in regards to your post about tommy not being enthusiastic about buck
for starters i completely agree w everything you said so this is just my own blurb i wanted to add
this plays into my theory of tommy paralleling abby in s1 who was never looking for anything serious w buck, but saw him as a younger man who could be used as a play-thing meanwhile buck jumps in head first only to learn a lesson about what love actually is along the way after being hurt…. and ik a bunch of people are like “i don’t want buck to get hurt by another relationship” but i genuinely think he needs to be burned a few more times because he obviously still doesn’t realize that his own interests should be celebrated by his partner and not put down— buck hasn’t had something BIG happen to him since the coming out arc and that was a mostly positive arc, aside from the gaslighting from tommy but whatever… it’s time for him to go through another hurdle, not as a side player in someone else’s arc [bobby’s injury/eddie’s breakdown] but as his own arc in which he realizes he is worth more than just being a pretty boy who is only valuable when he’s being kissed. I hope that bobby and eddie’s storylines will show him that in the finale and we can end this whole buck/tommy fiasco before s8, but im scared they will drag it out further into s8 and we will get either retconning from the writers, or we will get the fandom backlashing against tommy being used for his original intended purpose which was to be a PLOT DEVICE…..
we also have seen buck’s interests and excited demeanor subdued and looked down on by taylor often during their relationship. i already have iffy feelings on how the writers handled her character and her relationship arc with buck but aside from the treasure hunt, we never really saw her propping up buck’s interests and often tried to subdue his “golden retriever” personality (something the buckley parents also did)
(this is also interesting bc Taylor Kelly and Tommy Kinard…. T-K and T-K, idk it feels very hmmm to me on top of Tommy kind of repping all of Buck’s past major relationships into s ball)
and i feel like the diaz parents and possibly whatever happens with the will could be that catalyst for him to finally be like “oh… i am worth more thsn just being a side piece” which would hopefully lead to a b/t breakup
bc think about it, who IS the only one (besides bobby/maddie) who is always trying to tell buck he is worth more than just what he is at face value? DING DING DING it’s eddie… and if we get that feelings realization of “oh this is what i need from a relationship and i get that from eddie” we can open the door to buck facing the “im in love with my straight best friend who is going through shit” crisis while eddie could have his own “i am projecting my feelings towards buck onto my dead wife because he is what i want and she is who i thought i was supposed to want”
also for eddie’s side of things, it could also be a sense of realizing that he’s projecting and this further idea of “i’m broken” and then realizing who has been there to help him patch things up in the past as he realizes that everything he has looked for in a partner (mainly someone to be a second parental unit for chris) he already has with buck.
anyway i am so sorry for the long ask i just wanted to put this out there and say that i fully agree w you and share my thoughts that coincide with yours
Hi anon!
I love long asks and I agree with every point you made! Buck is still very obviously stuck in the hamster wheel (but only this time with a guy) and the whole "I don't want him to get hurt" is such a weird thing to say. Like except for Abby, Buck wasn't really upset by his breakups and rn his relationship with Tommy is not deep with a lots of buildup, it's just some dates (one of them failed) and two kiss so not a situation that will cause him a lots of heartache
And Eddie is the one who really matches Buck's energy and not only always hypes him up, but he's just as ready to get into the those situations
The pining arc for them is gonna be soo good, but I really hope they won't make it too long, I think a half season for it is more than enough (but I am an impatient girlie and we had enough slowburn now), I just want them to be domestic
I honestly believe we'll either have bt breakup in the next episode or in the first episode of s8. They did nothing to develop their relationship past e6, but introduced many points that could he grounds for a breakup (all coming back to Tommy's behaviour).
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lovecolibri · 15 days ago
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SaL anon here again my friend with a quick 🫂 for you. And now let's dive in.
So the great and unexpected: Madney!!! I didn't think we'd be getting much from them this episode, and it was starting to feel weird that we hadn't heard from them after Mara left, so I was so, so happy to see them finally get some dedicated screen time!!! And I loved how they handled their talk about kids and really brought home how solid and loving their relationship is (of course Chim already knew, that's her husband!!!). And while the well call-back being about their story was a surprise, it wasn't unpleasant, it worked and Kenny killed that scene, they never said it outright but you could feel Chimney thinking about his own brother when he was talking to the kid. And yeah, Maddie making a rule that she not be treated with kid gloves was so good to see, it needed to be said. Perfect subplot for them, no notes.
The incredible and only partly expected: Eddddddie!!! We are finally, actually dealing with the root of Eddie's problems and yeah it feels mean to say (but Tim kinda earned it after last season's mess) they are actually handling it well. The hot gay priest is a lovely bonus, but him being the one to push Eddie made sense for where Eddie is at now. And the Risky Business dance after shaving??!! TV at its finest. And as a last point actually putting "Oh, I'm straight." in the script?? That man is getting out and I can't wait, we are going to feats my friend.
Now not great but I get why but also I'm tired: The break up. So before I get salty let me just emphasize BONES 🥂🥂🥂🥂🎉🎉🎉🎉!!! Oh god it feels like we lived the literal seasons of BT 1.0 in these 10 or so episodes of BT 2.0 and I'm so glad its done for and we are free. That being said let's talk about the way they handled this. So is it just me or is Tim literally recycling his lonestar secret wife plotline for Tommy but with slightly less plotholes?? Because Josh's whole speech minus the Glee nonsense sounded a lot like his facebook post from that time. That man seriously needs to let his bad ideas die. Also whether your trying to face-value justify Tommy seriously hurting Abby during a rough time in her life (and I'm no fan of Abby) or trying to imply that we should let go of the racism and misogyny of the past in the subtext, "you don't know what's it was like to be scared and gay and closeted" isn't an excuse!!!! You don't get to magically wave away people being harmed by a character's actions OR someone close to those people passing judgement on those actions with a "pre-Glee" argument, its absurd. And yeah, maybe they had to have a good excuse for Buck to overcompensate and jump into "let's move in together!" but is this really the best they could do?? Speaking of Buck overcompensating, I repeat from last week, the hamster wheel is not fun!!! I mean at least they didn't actually move in together, but to try and pull off a last minute "I won't because I care too much" from the guy who just brought Buck tickets to watch a game he hates for an anniversary present is just 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄. Also unless its part of his post-breakup spiraling we are once again not going to discuss the condescending attitude, the digs at Buck being mature enough, or telling Buck who he is all the way up until the final scene. I'm tired. Why did we go through all of this nonsense for months to end with Buck getting nothing from this relationship aside from realizing he's bi, we could've done that in 2 or 3 episodes last seasons and spared everyone the pain of trying to buy into's Lou's attempts at acting. Just ugh.
At least we ended with Buddie on the couch, which definitely feels like the start of something. Thoughts (salty or otherwise)??
Hello my friend, and thanks for the hugs, they are appreciated 🫂
Okay, let's get to it! I am SO very excited about a new Madney baby! They deserve to have a lovely, healing experience after the last time! Their discussions about joy were sweet and I loved their rules! They have to communicate, but with trust! He has to trust that when she says she's okay and doing well, she is, and she has to trust that if she is NOT doing well, she can speak up and he (and everyone) will be there to support her. I love this for them, and also for us! And also for Uncle Buck and the good stuff we can get there too.
The Eddie stuff was so good! We see him STILL hiding the actual truth of what happened in his storytelling and putting all the weight on himself! And even without the full story, Hot Priest Brian still knew exactly what was up and what to say to help kick-start Eddie's journey. As much as I hate this Chris plot dragging out like it has been, this episode gives some reasoning by telling us Eddie is keeping himself from joy to punish himself, and Chris has always been a joy for him. Hopefully we will see him taking steps soon to go get his son back.
As for the break-up, at the very least we can celebrate it being over! 🍾🥂🎉🍾🥂🎉🍾🥂🎉 I wasn't expecting it to be super satisfying but damn this show still manages to let me down 😒 I am *cackling* at the LS comparison because it's just like, same premise, different font 🙄. And if it didn't work the first time and actually got a LOT of criticism, why pull the same shit again? Except that BT 2.0 is called that for a reason because it's the same as BT 1.0 down to the stank face about an ILY, and a panicked "move in with me so I can prove I'm good enough" from Buck. How tired and boring.
I'm glad Bryan gave a speech that resonated with him. I'm glad it can be looked at with an Eddie lense. I'm NOT glad that we are excusing racism, and misogyny in the name of "protecting closet space". Eli was a white man who worked in the same house under the same people, and we NEVER see him engaging in that kind of shit! So it's not like T couldn't have hung out with him instead, he actively CHOSE to be part of the problem. And at the end of the day, we STILL see the misogyny from T, in the way he talked about Abby!
Literally, WHAT did Buck learn here? BT 1.0 didn't really teach him anything either because he left not because he was miserable and unhappy, but because she once again put people he loved in danger for her own personal gain. And even THEN they didn't actually talk about that or let anyone on the firefam make any comments about her behavior, or the way she treated him, or how unhappy he had looked. And here we are again, with Buck trying to shrink himself down to be what someone wants, while the show refuses to address it, even through other characters talking amongst themselves about their concern for Buck. NGL I snorted SO hard at Buck saying he didn't think T could be that cruel because that's the ONLY thing we knew about him as a person until they brought him back in s7. We literally could have avoided ALL of this and gotten rid of him in 7x05 and let Buck have an actual plot about exploring this side of himself, and reflecting on what he actually wants.
*deep sigh*
On the bright side!! Couch theory is fucking BACK! We got Buck having the same couch his mom got for him(???), we got T laying on it looking the most uncomfortable a human has ever looked on a couch (his head isn't even on the pillow??) while Buck is across the room starting an allergic reaction to the medicine T gave him, we got Eddie dancing around and jumping on the couch, and we got Buck showing up and them sitting in silence on Eddie's couch (the first time the two of them alone have shared a couch) with pictures of their missing son framed between them! What a way to end the episode! And next week is lightning strike trauma??? It feels good to be this excited about the show again, even if it still could use some work to get back to the level of the good ol days. We're on the right path!
Thanks for giving me something else to think about today 💙
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rowingagainstthecurrent · 2 months ago
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The Story of Minnie
Minnie, It’s in these days, when I come back home and am no longer greeted by your familiar movements that I start missing you.
I remember the first day I set eyes on you…By then I already had two hamsters, all of whom tragically died.
Yet it was the first time I really saw a baby hamster at a pet store and I had never seen a creature who was as cute and fluffy as you were.
I fell in love with you. And not just that, I felt a deep and meaningful connection…
My family and I lived in a flat, so you can see the appeal of having a pet as tiny as this. My dad was really fond of animals, especially dogs but our living environment being what it is, he couldn’t really act on his wishes so freely. When my dad saw me being so affectionate with Minnie in the pet store, I guess he thought, ‘Why not?’
And there she was, in all her golden and fluffy glory. We put her in the same cage as the two predecessors who owned the place and I think she was happy with it.
Well at least her attitude showed it.
She was at the hamster wheel all night long and slept in her bed of wood shavings all morning. When I wanted to play with her, I would open the door and she would let herself out and jump onto my hand, that lovely little thing.
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A few months went by just like that.
Until the day my mom asked me to do something….
“Tom, you have to reduce the amount of wood shavings you put under her cage, or else we will have to buy another one soon”
“Alright”
At that time I really did not see any harm in doing so. I wish I did.
During the night, Minnie would climb the rungs of her cage, probably to get some upper body exercise or because she liked doing so. Whatever be the reason, she would lose her grip on the rungs and falls down. DOWN ONTO HER BED OF WOOD SHAVINGS. Which my mother so graciously asked me to reduce.
The next day, as I returned from school, I was met with a distressing sight. Minnie was on her back with her paws sticking up, unmoving.
At first I thought she was sleeping weirdly so I decided not to disturb her. But she remained thus all day long.
By next morning I understood what had happened to my sweet pet. She was still asleep but stubbornly refused to wake anymore. She had drifted into an endless slumber, unaware of the tears her companion was shedding at her demise.
I lay her body inside a big matchbox, said some prayers and buried her under a pile of leaves.
Though she left me , she left with memories of her within me.
Ever since that day, l longed for another pet to keep me company. I didn’t have many friends at that time and the people I wished to get together with, didn’t want anything to do with me.
She made me realise that I could be loved by people who weren’t my family. That I was good. On some days such as these, I am struck with awe at how a small creature, barely 10 cm in length can teach me so much about myself. I became a better version of myself, one that realised that he was capable of loving and being loved. That small thing’s made this boy’s lonely days in school, a little less lonely and a little more happy. But today she has made him a little more sad.
I think that’s a good thing.
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arvadthecursed · 4 months ago
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Peanut's cage is set up! Not done yet though. Walmart had a pitiful selection and no hamster wheels so I'll have to order one. I also want to order some tunnels to put in the bedding.
It seems she's happy so far. Hopefully she'll be able to burrow and play better, having some more room. I think this is double the space she had, maybe more.
I have to admit, I am scared of what my parents will say/do. I don't think they'll put Peanut back in her own cage because like, I bought this new stuff with my own money. They'll probably just be mad at me for a day or so. I might have to move her down into my room if worst comes to worst.
*just as I posted this she was burrowing 🥹 so I feel good knowing I've made a little bit of difference.
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darklydeliciousdesires · 3 months ago
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Sky Full of Stars - Chapter Twenty Two.
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Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty Twenty One
Tag list - In the comments
Words - 3,944
Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!
January 23rd, 2016. Cleveland, NY. 
The soft patter of snow, the contented snorting of horses as they ate their breakfast and the clucking of hens. These were the only noises that reached Adrien’s ears as he enjoyed a peaceful morning in his studio, standing back from the large canvas he was working on, deciding where to begin as he drank his tea. Until he heard a third, the studio door opening behind him.  
“How’s Saxon’s hoof looking this morning, baby love?”  
Her beloved Friesian horse, a black giant with a mane that touched his shoulder, had been lame for a week. The root cause? An infected hoof that needed drawing with a poultice twice daily, the stench of the black gunk that ended up in the special hoof boot the foulest thing he’d ever smelled. Poor Mia. She was bereft without her playmate out there in the paddock with her, too, kicking up her heels in the snow with no buddy to charge around with since Saxon was on stable rest. 
“Jade?”  
Turning, he saw her moving towards him, her eyes glazed over, mouth hanging slightly agape. “Honey, you look a little...” he trailed off, trying to catch her eye. Nothing. It was as if somebody had reached in and removed her brain, replacing it with a slow-moving hamster on a wheel.  “Are you okay?”  
The lights were on, but Jade Brody was not home.  
“Moo, before I have to shake you?”  
As it turned out, she was capable of shaking herself. “Sorry, baby. I just... I’m...” 
He nodded, winding his hand in a circular motion. “Those are some words. Care to add a few more?” 
“I... I...” She was still partially stuck in daze mode, so stunned, she had truly been rendered speechless. “I just heard the Oscars nominations, and Five Marked Men more or less swept the board.” 
“It did?” he spoke, his face brightening. “Well, of course it fucking did. It’s an amazing movie!”  
“Yeah, yeah,” she continued, “best picture, best original score, best production design, best director, best actor nomination to Robert De Niro, and best actress in a supporting role nomination... to me.”  
His eyes almost fell out of his head. “Holy shit! Holy fucking shit, Jade! This is huge! Oh, my god, come here!” He threw his arms around her, lifting her up, laughing with utter delighted joy. “I’m so proud of you, Burtie!”  
Finally, she began to smile, but still looked to be in a state of shock. “How... how the hell did I do this? I can’t even... it isn’t processing!”  
He remembered that well. “It didn’t with me either. I remember hearing I’d been nominated and thinking they’d made a mistake, had the biggest case of imposter syndrome right up until I was actually walking towards the stage to accept the award.”  
“Yeah, yeah but you’re an amazing actor who had seventeen years of this behind him when he won! I’m just some bird from Tottenham who shouts a lot and decided to do this on a whim one day!” 
He raised an eyebrow. “One day about, hmm, seventeen years ago this year?” 
“Bloody hell.” 
“I am so proud of you, baby love,” he spoke, placing her back down and giving her a huge kiss. 
“Bloody hell!” 
“Are we stuck on bloody hell mode?” he teased, his wife’s mouth dropping open, closing, and then repeating all over again. 
“Bloody hell.” 
He couldn’t keep his laughter in, not able to remember a time he’d seen her look more stunned than she did right at that moment. “Burtie, your ass is ringing.”  
Shaking herself, she pulled her phone out, putting it on speaker. There wasn’t even chance to say hello before the verbal explosion hit her.  
“Skippy! You fucking superstar, oh my fucking god I am screaming!” 
“As I hear,” she just about got chance to say, Jen’s excitement vibrating the speaker of her iPhone.  
“Congratulations! I swear, you’ve won it, it’s you! You were perfect in that movie, made a tough ole’ boot like me cry, y’know? Made me feel all the damned emotions, so yeah, and I’m blabbing but I can’t think straight because my best fucking friend got nominated for an Oscar and oh my god!” 
“Jen, my ears, darlin���?” she was just about able to make out, the sound of a slightly deafened Nick in the background. “Jade! Congrats, babe! This one here hasnae been able to stop screaming about it yet!” 
“As I hear, mate!” she laughed, she and Adrien leaving the studio and walking back around to the house, hand in hand.  
“Ahh, well I’ll leave you and the missus to it, like. Gotta head out in all this bastard fucking snow and buy milk because my fucking wifey here cannae remember shite! Laters, hon.” 
Yes, a few things were different in her surrounding world, one of the main changes being that Jen had finally met Mr Right. Nick Anderson had come into her life as a brand-new drum tech two years prior, when the girls had embarked on another world tour back in twenty fourteen, the pair hitting it off so well that they’d ended up together quite quickly. Two impossibly energetic people with huge, lovely personalities who thrived on beating the hell out of a drumkit. They were perfect for one another and had married just eight months before right there at Stone Barn Castle.  
Originally hailing from the small skiing town of Aviemore in Scotland, he’d moved out to America ten years before with the first Mrs. Anderson, their marriage not lasting for long after the move. A number of factors had put the death knell upon it, the main one being what was actually a draw to Jen; he didn’t want children. Neither did she, no matter how much she genuinely adored small people, they just weren’t for her.  
Speaking of small people, Jade had to get moving pretty soon after entering the house and having another coffee, still reeling from the shock news but having a full day ahead of her. Her sister, her husband Chris and their two children were coming up to stay for a few days, Jade tasked with driving to Syracuse to collect them from the airport.  
While that coffee was sipped at, she was studied, Jade catching his eye across the island. “What?” 
“Are you going to be okay to drive? Because I know the snow isn’t too bad and the roads are clear and all that, but I’m kinda anxious you might space out and end up wrapping your car around a tree. I neither want a banged-up wife nor for her to smash the hell out of her new ride.” He’d rather she didn’t either, not just because he obviously didn’t want an injured wife on his hands, but damn, a custom detailed Audi Q7 did not come cheap. 
She paused, narrowing her eyes over the steam emitting her coffee cup. “You care more about the car than me, don't you? Dented wife you can handle. Dented wallet, not so much.” 
“Damn,” he fumed playfully, clicking his fingers, “she got me.” Lifting his chin, the entertainment played on his face, guffawing when he raised her middle finger. “Oh, don’t be like that, baby love. With your goddamned talons.” 
She’d decided to give herself a manicure, her own fairly short nails all hidden beneath the long, pointy claws glued on and painted a neutral shade of nude pink. “You didn’t complain about them when they were buried in your back last night.” 
“Nope, you know I like a little scratching. I’m still nervous about them coming near my junk, though.” Nervous was somewhat of an understatement. When she’d shown him her literal handiwork, the first words out of his mouth had been ‘there’s no way in hell I’m letting you near my dick with those. No way. I’m already circumcised; I ain’t looking to lose any more.’ She’d made sure to be very careful while handling the goods later the previous night, yet he’d still flinched a few times.  
At least the animals of the Brody household appreciated the fact that their mom now came with the best scratching implements, though, the cats thriving, the dogs enjoying an ear scratch, and Mia and Saxon both appreciating the scritches they’d received that morning as she’d groomed them both.  
Making a flexing motion with her hand, she aimed it at his crotch, walking around the island to him, Adrien reversing at speed. “Stop this, no, Jade!” 
“I can be gentle. See?” she spoke, grabbing his arm and gently raking her nails over the bulge in his jeans. “See? It’s all tickly on your balls. He likes. Look at the face!”  
He still looked a little uncomfortable, finally relaxing when he did realise it wasn’t unpleasant. “Mmm. Prefer your mouth.” Leaning to her, his lips met hers, grumbling happily as their tongues entwined, feeling his cock beginning to stir. “How much time do you have before you leave?” 
“Not enough for what you’re thinking, so you’re going to have to simmer, Mr. B.” 
He bit her lip with an annoyed growl. “Cock tease.” 
“Well, you knew this right from the moment we first met,” she reasoned, patting his abs and picking up her bag. “You can wait until later.” 
More growling. “Not even five minutes? There’s a lot a man can achieve in five minutes.”  
She paused, thoughtful, moving his hair and kissing the side of his neck. He’d grown it long, and god, how she loved it. “Save it for later.” Running her nails over his chest, she tickled his cock again, trailing them down to his thighs and then around to his bum before ascending his back once more, leaving him quivering. “Because later, I will follow everywhere my nails just went with my tongue.”  
Kissing him again, she left him standing there burning, muttering to himself. He had thought that perhaps the sexual magic of her might wane a little after just over six years together, but it truly showed no signs of abating. True, they weren’t all over one another quite as often as they had been right in the fledgling stages of their relationship, but mostly that was because of their careers putting distance between them.  
The fact that they couldn’t be together all of the time seemed to have kept the spark burning very brightly, he had to note. Even when she made his flicker and then walked away, just as she’d done that morning. He knew her game, though, getting him all amped up so it’d be in the back of his head all day. While she departed, he went down to the stables, a saddle and bridle in his arms, approaching a very happy looking Mia. 
“Yes, we’re going out. Come on, pretty face. Back up.” Moving her away from her stable door as he entered, he placed the saddle onto the door itself, putting her bridle on first. Between Jade herself and Bob when they were at their house in England, over the past few years he’d grown to become quite a competent horseman, even buying one for himself.  
Shamrock, also known as ‘that bastard animal’ lived over the other side of the pond in England, a huge, seventeen hands high former racehorse Adrien had found and loved, despite his predisposition to misbehave. He’d lost count of the number of times the nine-year-old steed had bolted with him, but if anything, it had made him a much more competent rider, having to get used to something so whip smart and predisposed to acting out.  
Riding Mia was a completely different ballgame, though, the horse more like a well-behaved sofa, as he often likened her. She was impeccably mannered and comfortable as hell to ride, Adrien jumping onto her back and gathering the reins, whistling for his dogs. It’d be a nice, sedate ride, not having to wonder about when the horse he was aboard was about to start huffing and puffing, jogging around or rearing up, all of which he did with Sham. Mia remained as much of a lamb as always. 
By the time his wife had returned, he was freshly showered and thawed out, coming into the kitchen as they were entering, having his favourite tiny person running for him as soon as she spotted him. 
“Uncle Adween!” At only fifteen months old, Stevie was still getting used to speech, some words beyond her grasp. Even her own name.  
“Beevs!” he laughed, lifting her into his arms and kissing her cheek, blowing a raspberry that had her squealing. She was commonly known at Beevs, Beevie or The Beev, being that she couldn’t pronounce Stevie. Jade she could say properly, but to her was aunt shouty, pronounced more as ‘showteeeee’. It still cracked him up. “How are you?” 
“Is cold and I no like it,” she told him, cuddling into his warmth as he greeted Chris with a one-armed hug.  
“Oh look, see look at this, being all cute for your uncle when you were a monster on the flight!” he spoke, shaking his head. 
“I no monsfer! I cute!” Oh yes, she was. Until she wasn’t. Until she was, as her father coined it, doing her best tiny Lucifer impersonation.  
“Kid, you are hell in a dress,” Rachel spoke, greeting Adrien with a big hug and kiss. “Look at this hair, bro! Woah! Suits you,” she then added, giving his curls a little comb with her fingers.  
“Thanks, Rach,” he replied, before having his ear bended by the incessant chatter of his tiny niece, his nephew Reece thumping against his leg after running for him, Adrien bending to lift him onto his other arm.  
“Can we go see the horses, uncle Adrien? Please?” At four, his speech was flawless, making his demands known in very good voice. “Please, please, please?” 
“Hey, quit nagging, tiny,” his mother advised, pinching his cheek, “we only just got here and already you’re starting with the overlord antics.” 
Reece looked thoughtful, cuddling his uncle, hiding beneath his hair. “But can we?” 
“And the chances of you shutting up until I say yes are?” he asked. 
The child made a tiny gap between his thumb and forefinger. “This much!” 
Replicating the gesture, he smiled, kissing his head. “Alright. Let’s go.” 
While her husband ventured back out with the kids, her sister and brother-in-law heading upstairs to get situated in one of the guest bedrooms, Jade made a start on lunch, chopping vegetables and taking the pre-shredded roasted chicken she’d cooked the previous night from the fridge, chicken noodle soup on the menu. Once they’d eaten, the kids were once again full of energy and soup, tearing around the garden with their daddy and uncle, Jade and Rachel watching from beside the fire in the kitchen.  
“He’s great with them,” the latter spoke, nodding at where Adrien was assisting with the building of a snowman. “He’ll make an amazing daddy someday.” 
Jade hummed, her mouth tilting upwards. “Hopefully sooner rather than later.” 
Oh, how she loved to just casually drop such news into conversation. “Oh my god, really? You didn’t tell me!” her sister cried, reaching to slap her knee playfully a few times. “Since when?” 
“Not long,” she confessed, sipping her latte. “I stopped taking my pill in October, but between not seeing him and never working out when I’m ovulating with any kind of accuracy, it hasn’t happened for us just yet.” 
“Don’t expect it to either,” Rachel warned lightly with a pointed finger, “I know we’re a fertile people, but still, it was seven months of trying for us before I got pregnant with Reece.” 
A fertile people was an understatement, with how fast their mother had become pregnant, and the rate their uncle’s had populated the family with their cousins, fifteen of them in total. Rachel herself had become pregnant with Stevie remarkably quickly, too. Well, it had been Stevie and her twin, but sadly the foetus had died at only a few weeks in. 
“Oh no, I’m not. We’re being fairly casual about it all, more like if it happens soon then great, but we’re not putting any pressure on ourselves.” Jade confirmed with a casual wave of her hand.  
While she and Adrien weren’t in a hurry, for years they’d been the focus of the public and media wondering why year after year passed and they hadn’t decided to have children. Truly, it was nobody else’s business, why they’d chosen to focus on their careers and their marriage before adding children to the equation, and that was the simple truth of the matter. People could think whatever the hell they liked, and usually it was a million miles from the truth.  
‘I will never understand why it is that society puts this enormous pressure upon couples to procreate within a certain time frame, or at all. It’s a perfectly valid choice to remain child free if that’s what you both want. My husband and I do want children one day, but us not starting a family yet is seen as something alien, that we desire to devote our time to each other and our careers. We’re both still young, we have plenty of time, yet our stance is seen as abnormal for some reason.’ 
Those were the words she gave in an interview just a year before when speaking with the journalist about the fact that they’d been child free for the duration of their five years, as it was at the time. The woman speaking with her was in staunch agreement, too, that the societal pressures for married couples to have children with an expected time frame was quite frankly ridiculous.  
“I have to say though, Rach,” Jade began, her eyebrows fluttering as a smile spread across her lips. “That baby making sex does hit different.” 
“Right?” her sister chimed, nodding vigorously. “Always does with men. Procreation horny is different, and I can’t explain why, but it is!” 
“Sends ‘em feral,” she agreed, looking out at Adrien approvingly. “All I have to say to him is, ‘get over here and put a baby in me’ and the speed he moves at,” she giggled, making a rapid motion with her finger coupled with a sharp whistle, Rachel in soft fits.  
“Oh, one thing, though? If you do start to seriously begin tracking your ovulation, don’t make it all about the baby making when you do have sex, because the novelty of it can wear off quickly and it becomes really focused on the procreation part, rather than the enjoyment. That put a dent in us for a while, back when we were trying to conceive Reece.” 
“Becomes a little mechanical, huh?” 
Rachel pointed, crossing her legs as she sat back in the armchair, Salem jumping onto her lap. “Yes, that’s exactly it and trust me, big sis. It dampens the spark as much as a few gallons of cold water.”  
Her advice was noted.  
“If you do want to go down that road, though, use an ovulation tracker app. Just put your details in, date of your last period, etc, and it calculates it all for you and then sends an alert when you start ovulating. Here, this is the one I used.”  
Taking her sister’s phone, she had a look at it, picking up her phone and downloading it before entering all of her info. “Oh blimey,” she exclaimed, resting a hand to her chest, “right now until tomorrow morning.” 
“Well, there you have it, but please, get those eggs fertilized quietly. I cannot with hearing the acoustics of my sister having sex. Not again.” 
Jade winked, flashing a grin of teeth. “I make no promises.” 
“Bleugh. Deviant.”  
“You have no idea,” she teased, Rachel’s eyes widening. 
“I fucking do! Mom told me all about the hook!” 
It might have happened five years ago, but god, how it still made her laugh. She couldn’t be in the kitchen pantry without having a little snort, remembering Adrien hiding in there after being stalked by her mother. “You have no idea how embarrassed he was. He’s so cute! He can be an absolute beast in the bedroom, and you just wouldn’t think it because he’s so quiet and nice.”  
“I’d rather not think of my brother-in-law like that at all.” she shuddered, sending her sister into another fit of giggles. Beyond a few little inquiries back when they first got together, Rachel was definitely more like her father where the topic of sex was concerned.  
Marco, on the other hand, had wanted to know everything. ‘So, what’s he packing? How many inches? Cut or uncut? Don’t you dare be holding out on me! I have to know the dick details! I’ve fantasised about this man!’ Yes, her brother had definitely been more uncouth at the time. He also flirted shamelessly with Adrien whenever he saw him, who took it all in his stride.  
Changing the subject, they instead talked more about their lives, Rachel once again relaying just how proud she was, that her beloved big sister had been nominated for an Oscar. Even hours after it had been announced, the news was still yet to sink in any further. Later that night, the house quiet, everyone in bed and Jade sitting up being her usual night owl self, it still hadn’t.  
“Baby love? You okay?”  
She had gone to bed, but that had been at 1am. After riding her husband into the bed and sending him into a deep sleep, she’d struggled dropping off at his side. Apparently, the sleep he’d found hadn’t been deep enough not to notice when she’d gotten up quietly half an hour later.  
“Yeah, gorgeous. Yeah, I’m fine. Just can’t seem to switch my brain off,” she replied, Adrien moving behind where she sat at the island on her laptop, wrapping his arms around her. “I’m still struggling to believe it’s real.” 
He could identify with that. “It’ll sink in, eventually. You have to know you’ve earned it, though, don’t you? Seriously, I’m not just saying it but I think it’s your best role to date. You deserve it.” Kissing her cheek, he rested her chin to his shoulder, looking at the screen. “Remember when I used to tell you, when we were going through never ending shit, how it’d get better? Well, better is here. It’ll be even better if you buy that underwear in black, too. Use my card.” 
In times of feeling a little out of sorts, whether good or bad, she shopped. On that particular night, it was the Bordelle website, her favourite lingerie brand. “It only comes in gold or dark blue. Which would you rather I’m wearing while you come in me?”  
Her dirty wit. How he loved it. “Definitely blue.” Reaching for the bowl of keys and general things to the side of the island, he grabbed his Amex card, handing it to her with a kiss. His eyes were then distracted by the next page. “Get those, too. Oh damn, and that.” 
“In red?” 
His smile widened. “Mm.”  
“Is this getting you all horny again?” 
Wrapping his arms around her again, she felt the evidence press against her spine. How the hell he was still so down to fuck at the drop of a hat – or the sight of sexy underwear, as it was – at nearly forty-two, she didn’t know. Okay, so he wasn’t exactly past it just yet, still young, but even still. He had the refresh rate of a guy half his age. She wasn’t averse to it, though. Obviously. 
After all, they had a baby to make.  
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lover-of-mine · 10 months ago
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my personal prediction is that buddie won’t go canon in s7, especially not in a really short season on a new network. i just HOPE that we have one of them confirmed queer or even just suggested to be queer (my money is on buck due to previous ‘hints’). if that happens, then maybe also a hint at feelings for the other (again, money’s on buck, mostly because eddie is presumably gonna be in a relationship with marisol). guess we’ll find out very soon!! i’m buzzing with anticipation and fear and excitement haha
Okay, so when I say I think they're going canon, it's more on the sense that they'll explicitly be put on the path of getting together, not actually getting together, cuz they are not ready yet. That something will happen that will make them undeniable. I mean, I treat buddie the same way I treated Kate and Castle, or Jane and Lisbon, or Donna and Harvey, Booth and Brennan, yk network couples that you just know are gonna get there eventually, but I'm starting to think we will get something, not like a kiss or a love confession, but something. And I'm on the other side, I think it's easier to make Eddie have the revelation than Buck, unless the "self discovery" and "getting off the hamster wheel" Oliver mentioned is about Buck's sexuality, something I'm absolutely on board with, I want them to move, I don't care what makes it happen kspakaokaa. And we don't know how many episodes Marisol is gonna be in, she could very much be there for one and be gone, but we will have to wait and see how it goes. I know I am vibrating in frequencies unknown to men lol
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canonicallyobserving911 · 6 months ago
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https://www.tumblr.com/canonicallyobserving911/751961757836345344/if-its-true-that-kr-wrote-the-finale-then-its
She did in fact write the finale tonight which is just *sighs* I don’t understand what we have to do to finally be free of her. I thought we were with the move to abc honestly. Yet here she is. Giving yet another lack luster season finale.
Side note I’ve been hoarding chapters of your fic, I’m still in love with you but… because I had a feeling I’d need some good buddie content by the end of the season, I think I’ve got like 9 or 10 chapters to catch up on? And after tonight am I ever so glad for that lol.
Hi @mattsire and thank you for the ask.
I'm so disappointed in the finale and learning KR wrote it just makes it so much worse. I truly do not understand why she's still being allowed to have creative control of any kind, especially after seasons 5 & 6 were such cluster "Fs" but alas, this is the cross viewers have to bear instead of getting good episodes that carry a lot of depth.
Her writing used to be good, for example the Eddie and Ana breakup scene in 5x3 was great and the emotional beats were there but it's unclear why the pacing has been off since then. Also, the cringey sexual innuendos she always includes for Buck's character are so bad and someone needs to tell her that. I mean, I get it, Buck's not celibate (at least he hasn't said he is in CANON) but every season he's paired with people who don't value anything about him except his "Firehose". If he was still Buck 1.0, it would make sense but he's not and he hasn't been since season 1 (season 2 if his hookup with Taylor in the bar restroom counts). It truly saddens me for OS and Buck because it's been 7 going on 8 years and he's still being put in these lackluster relationships with one dimensional love interests. Also, T*mmy is a jealous jerk who wishes he was Buck and season 8 is going to be horrifically horrible with Gerard's old ass around making racists and bigoted comments.
Buck wants to be in love with someone (EDDIE) but for some reason, the show won't let him have it. He's still on the hamster wheel and at this point, what are they going to do if they don't get a season 9? It's past time for them to stop delaying Buck's and Eddie's love story especially since network TV is on the decline and they're replacing procedural dramas with reality TV BS and game shows but I digress.
After that finale, I'll be writing Buddie fanfics all summer and I'm more determined than ever to finish the last 12 chapters of "I'm still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!" It's my baby and I love that fanfic so much. Actually, I love all the fics I write but that one is where the Diaz family gets to just be as they navigate life as two husbands and their son.
Happy reading my friend and based on what you mentioned, you're in for some good reading especially if you haven't read past chapter 21 yet. That's when they leave the country headed to Europe.
I'm working on the last two fics in the "Their Firsts, At Last" series and I hope to have them posted soon but in case you missed them, the "Wedding Planning & Preparation" and the "Civil Marriage Ceremony" fics are available on AO3. I enjoyed writing both of them and the next part will be posted hopefully within the next few days.
Finally, I completed two season 7 finale speculation fics and they're available on AO3 as well.
Thanks again for the ask and have a great day/night (depending on your time zone).
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jounosparticles · 11 months ago
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HELLO :D I an happy to see you back eheheh I hope you liked the break you took :3
ANYWAY. I dunno if you've seen, but in japanese bookstores if you pre-order live action beast (I think? I forgot but the important thing is that it's a campaign) then you can get a letter from a random character (dazai, fyodor, fitzgerald, etc etc) and that includes jouno and tecchou! they are. very silly BUT jouno's letter got my hamster wheel spinning
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now what I got from this/interpreted it was that jouno is (probably) the one that the hunting dogs fall to do PR things (if they do)
now with fukuchi: he has the most public support, being a well known war hero and generally a symbol of power and authority to people. but. I don't think he likes public speaking that much JDBFB.
it's not that he CANT do it, he has been described to command a room and even having rumors that the force of his ranting can literally knock you out. I think he is more of "god I hate this" to public speaking. he'll do it, but I don't think he likes it. also Canon evidence: the UN army of mankind conference. (also below) I wouldn't be surprised if he just opted to do super super important hearings on behalf of the hunting dogs/....anything else (again, UN conference)
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anyway moving on (the fixation got to me): teruko is.... teruko. I think she is the same as fukuchi in both ways. I feel like she can command a room but also thinks it's annoying (based on jounos letter). I'm not surprised. I would say who would trust a young girl but also shecan change her age but also idk whatever teruko is fucking crazy love her
I think tachihara is self explanatory (no one outside the hunting dogs knows him really and again. jouno letter) and I think tecchou would be self explanatory too. tecchou. is tecchou. I don't think he would like or be that great at public speaking. very blunt and straightforward, I don't think he has the right charisma to really sell a message to a huge crowd. I think tecchou is more of "say an inspirational quote and lets work with it" does this make sense LMAOO also "that's jounos job" is so fucking good SNBSDB
jouno is really a good option I think. he's charismatic and I think he could pick up a crowds emotion easily and change accordingly. silly guy.
anyway. the sillies they make me crazy
OHMYGODOGMYGOD. I KNEW ABOUT THE LETTERS BUT I DIDNT KNOW JOUNO AND TECCHOU HAD ONES?? i will go insane i will . what i would do for their letters.
ehem. anyway.
jouno being the pr guy is a good concept to me. he is very smiley when he talks and tends to stay composed, which is a good face to put on to represent the hunting dogs. i feel he could hold a crowd very easily. i’d listen to him
also the letter is so funny? ending it with saying he wants to kill tecchou is so in character. they can’t do a single page without flirting somehow yes i will say it that was him flirting killing is code for kissing trust me i am asagiri cough i mean. they’re so silly.
i like that interpretation with fukuchi. when we seen him at the press conference they acted as if he was some legend which definitely implies he doesn’t show up to these things often. he probably doesn’t like having all the fans ahahah.
teruko is definitely believable here too. she probably doesn’t work to impress people she does it to pursue what’s right. she’s also extremely justice oriented, the external stuff maybe just isn’t her thing. she’s also been dealing with a lot i don’t blame her for not wanting to hahaha. she’s also been around for a long time (probably) so maybe she’s fed up and done with pr stuff. she also maybe is taken less seriously which makes her doing that part of the job more difficult? like when she was introduced and the police’s faces dropped when they realized she was just a little girl. it could make maintaining a crowd difficult maybe.
tachihara makes sense. since he could write from the pov of a mafioso or a hunting dog. that would make an interesting letter actually! but maybe they didn’t wanna blow his cover or something idk. i doubt he could do pr in universe because of him being the only unidentified hunting dog.
tecchou passing the letter to jouno but still ending up needing to write his own is so funny to me like. okay good try. (also i haven’t seen his PLEASE can you send it to me i will have things to say i promise). anyways ive always seen tecchou being a little on the socially inept side of things which would make pr hard. (saying this as someone who’s similar to tecchou in outward personality ahaha). he likely doesn’t people please and is very direct with what he wants to say whereas in contrast i feel jouno is better at talking with people and being convincing which makes him ideal for pr stuff. the fact that he just immediately shut down the chance to do the letter in favour of training is so funny. he is everything to me.
anyway. i like to imagine jouno begrudgingly sitting at his desk thinking up a letter to write and the most he can do is complain about how nobody else wanted to do it for half the page. he doesn’t like the pr work but it’s what needs to be done. he can commend the agency for what they’ve done but he Cannot say anything nice about his coworkers. jouno is unintentionally so funny i love him so much. i want to put him under a microscope. i need a wan chapter of him going around asking the other hunting dogs about it.
i wonder if the letters are from characters in the beast timeline? like yeah the hunting dogs fyodor fitz etc weren’t present in beast but they still existed?
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b-else-writes · 2 years ago
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Vector Prime (1999): Some Thoughts
so i've decided to re-read the old EU (maaybee because i'm gonna write some more fanfic) and arbitrarily decided that I would start with the era for which I first ventured into as a child - the NJO. it's going to be a total chore but let's get started. Spoilers for a book that came out 24 years ago, this is just my thoughts as I was reading:
the Yuuzhan Vong: contrary to whatever revisionist stuff fans say, opinions on the old EU were very mixed and the Vong were a major point of contention. the whole idea was to end the repetitive formula of "evil Emperial Warlord and their Death Star knock-off" of the past books, but people disagreed as to whether they felt Star Wars. i think the idea of an invasion of religious war zealots who hate the Jedi and technology is not a bad idea per se, and i do think that the parts of the story that feel like a thriller as we learn more and more about the Vong and Yomin Carr hunts the scientists on Belkadan, are quite gripping. but i don't know if they feel Star Wars, the sadomasochism and orc appearance especially.
Luke: i feel like the NJO is when the writers realised that Luke had already concluded his character arc and didn't know what to do with him in a main role but people would cry blood if he wasn't in a main role so they were stuck (the original idea was to kill Luke and not Chewie). Luke is fine but unmemorable, and his conflict is external - whether Jedi operate as a law force of its own or not, and whether to have a Jedi Council or not (because the PT was airing) to keep all the Jedi in-line, and Luke is largely wishy-washy.
Han: the best written of the trio, i think his characterization was spot-on, especially in grief and rage.
Jacen: contrary to revisionist history (2), fans LOATHED the Solo children and you can straight up find fan polls on which Solo spawn is the worst from like 2002. i'm a contrarian and you know what? i like Jacen here. i think he has a good point about whether the point of the Force is to be a Space Police Officer or whether it's a source of self-enlightenment and growth and that he wants the Jedi to be less bureaucratic. like Anakin straight-up says the Jedi are the Law, and Jacen says no, and you know what? he's right. unfortunately Jacen can never be right because SW runs on the hamster wheel of endless violent conflict, but sue me, i like Jacen.
Kyp Durron: sue me (2), i like Kyp Durron. Kyp was never meant to have this role (it was meant to be a new character) but someone who no doubt hated Kyp suggested he take the role of the cocky trigger-happy "the Jedi should act like a law onto themselves" that puts him at odds with EVERYONE else. they try to justify it that Kyp wants to prove to everyone that he's good and atone, and in principle, I think the idea can work, but without writing Kyp as an arrogant, cocky, and smug asshole with zero compassion for others. leave my man alone!! he's just trying to earn redemption!!
Mara, Leia, Jaina, Danni: they are all lumped together because Salvatore doesn't know how to write women. they are all "strong willed and beautiful" (except Leia because she's old and how dare women be old) and that's it. Jaina's personality is lit "fly good".
Lando: the writers have no idea what to do with Lando either.
Anakin Solo: the Solo Spawn i am sending to the execution squad. joking i think he works as a stupid teenager who needs to grow up.
the big controversial death: i actually think it works as an emotional beat (and i don't object to death in SW), but the writing was very confusing as to how the whole thing actually happened. how fast is the Moon coming down that the Falcon can fly away and have enough time to loop back to see Chewie die?
blowing up Helska: this made zero sense and was resolved in one chapter and i suspect was tacked on because the book couldn't end at Sernpidal, which would actually have worked better because while the writing isn't great, the imagery of the Moon crashing down is really effective.
overall, it's a brisk read but the cracks in the old EU are visible. i think some of the writing decisions were plain bad to downright side-eyeable in the case of Lando and all the female characters - also is EVERYONE in this galaxy white except Lando?? (Kyp is Asian you can't take this from me, child-me thought this and it is my truth now) - and tbh trying to drag Luke into more adventures at this point feels like extending something beyond where it should be. it is fairly gripping though, the writing is serviceable and nothing special, but i never felt bored reading.
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silvernyxchariot · 4 months ago
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Some Teyvat thoughts that the hamster keeps going around in my head:
Teyvat and its people are lucky Anemo users chose peace/freedom. Forget lore accurate Venti cutting down mountains, people are lucky Anemo users don't go, "I'm taking away your breathing rights *suffocates an entire room of people to death*." Or a city is one sonic scream away from being blown to bits by a petty Anemo user throwing a tantrum. (Refer also to Zahir from Legend of Korra and Yangchen from ATLA for the potential of those who manipulate wind and air.)
I am one of those people who wanted to see Natlan as the country of war. While also still colorful, vibrant, and beautiful. And I like the battle area we saw Mavuika MCing in. But, girl, Hoyo could've done better. I showed someone a video of Mualani dancing, and they said she seemed Mexican/Native American. I told them, "Mualani was supposed to represent the peoples of Hawaii." 😬 Said person was also born and raised in Hawaii for most of their childhood. Yikes.
Based on leak vids, each "tribe" has an element theme, but Hoyo couldn't do that with Latin American, African, and Polynesian cultures 🤨. Instead of putting different groups into a blender, indecernable from one another, they could have taken inspiration from sun iconography, a source of energy and life, specifically making Natlan's geography one nation surrounded by smaller islands connected by bridges. Like a wheel of sorts; a wheel of fire. Its battle arena: a center of unity, culture, and communication. Separate, but still functioning and running together despite their differences. And yes, the lack of melanin is still disappointing. "Diversity," Hoyo doesn't know who she is.
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Unconventional: A Short Story of Hiding in Plain Sight
Is a short essay written in 2023 on my personal struggles being Native American and AroAce, and how both subjects intersected in a small window of time.
Disclaimer⚠️:
anti-Native American racism
Use of "noble savage"
I think its fairly good, weather the writing is good or not i think it has a good message anyway.
Notes:
In the writing I use the name Wallace to refer to myself, but for context I present fem & still mostly go by my birthname, the people talking to me were using my birthname.
Info aluding to location is removed.
This also relates to my expiriences as a trans person but I'm closited to most people, so is not included
The names of others is changed cause it was fresh at the time and i didnt want to hassle reporting them.
Slightly edited from origonal
History has always been one of my favorite subjects. There isn't much reason aside from that the past fascinates me. Native units are different though. I was ecstatic! Beforehand, that is.
Walking into class on the second day, I already dreaded sitting down, only to be called an "American Indian" through the scribbles of graphite on worksheets. The teacher listed name after name of tribes nearby, he got to a tribe with a well known casino, its famous add campaign was shouted out from the kid beside me, with near no objection. All we are to them; our casino's tagline.
All throughout page after page, side conversation to worksheet, "Indian" rang through my head like the caws of blue jays. Imagine the discovery of discomfort displacing you far from anyone's mind when your history teacher reads blindly from a paper without a second thought.
Through the day, peeve soaked my clothes and I stomped on every drip and caw with the vexation of a murder of flustered crows as I ducked through crowded halls.
I wasn't even there. Not that I made that known.
I wasn't content to sit angerly in my hamster wheel of a head, If I was going to be angry, I didn't want to go through it alone, I was happy to at least vent to someone.
I sat down later for advisory, still soaked in irritation head to toe, I yanked my computer out of its sleeve and clanked at its keys till my frenzied fingers were sore, all class I deliberated my days into a lengthy group-chat email. Saying I was- am annoyed is an understatement, my eyes were incandescent as I slammed down each key. Whether I had history work or not I didn't care enough to do it, I wasn't in the mood to be called an "American Indian" for the next half hour by a paper for answering X Y & Z. I value my sanity over that any day.
I trampled the keyboard with every example I could think of, the textbooks, the kid next to me, the fact that in any history class I've been in all the natives are put under the blankets of numbers. I ended my rant venting, "Sorry if this is out of the blue or off topic or if I 'ruined tha vibe' or whatever maybe I'm just 'over-exaggerating' but I don't care right now… I can only hope we get more than a geography lesson in this unit." I took off my obnoxiously bright hat to see my Aro and Ace pride pins lining its rabbit face.
I've always "identified" as native, there was just never much else. Dads side is just smaller, and out of touch with one another. None of them ever talk.
My weekdays are spent looking at my grandmothers' walls, beadwork, and Formline, and family photos framing it from corner to corner. I've always been a Tlingit Kid. Through my mom and generations of women back till who knows when, I am my clans child. But my dad's side of the family being white, and me taking more after him, the impression I get, when I tell some people I'm native, is that I'm one of those "my grandmother was a Cherokee princess" girls. And that just puts me off from telling people I don't know in the first place.
Once a girl responded to my invisible native-ness with "... so you're white?" I can taste her entitlement every time I repeat her, as if she were owed any sort of "truth." What's the point? What do you want? To see proof of my brown family? My tribal ID? Me to wear my regalia 24/7? My blood quantum painted on a sign above my head?
In attempts to connect with my roots I picked up a book from the library, #ImNotYourPrincess seemed interesting by its title. There was one page that stuck to my skin. "It's strange to me how people always want me to be an "authentic Indian" when I say I'm kanyen'keha:ka. They want me to look a certain way, act a certain way. They're disappointed when what they get is.... just me. White faced, light haired... They want my culture behind glass in a museum. But they don't want me. I'm not Indian enough..." that page was part of the poem, Invisible Indians, by a Mohawk woman named Shelby Lisk.
Advisory September 29, still angered from history just an hour beforehand, I was already unamused with my day. Sitting down for class, I noted down any other things I'd heard from my peers for safekeeping on a word document. Today there was nothing, but I was irritated so I noted any semblance that could have been something as an angered precaution.
From there I went with the motions and hid my face from the dim windows and lights to avoid a worsened headache. I sat to chip away at the little work I had, seeing as it was a Friday, only to be met with an unwelcome whine of my name. "Wallace? Wallace? Wallace? Hey Wallace?" It rang in my worn-out ears like early morning bird disputes from the trees, "Wallace? Wallace? Waaaaaaaalllaaaaaace? Don't be rude Wallace. Wallace Wallace? Wallace?" Frustrated in giving him the time of day, I swiveled my chair in Gabriel's direction for just enough time to send the message of hey, bud I hear you, and twirled back, my face growing more and more sour as the moments inch by. All just for him to spit "Anthony likes you!" For the whole class to feast their ears upon.
His caws stained my expression as we shuffled our chairs around and he continued "Wallace? Waalaace?" We moved again, and without fail he still was in his territorial dispute with the neighboring crows. Get my name out of your mouth I thought. I just continued to angrily lean tired on tables.
We shuffled chairs again, (admittedly this advisory was, not productive.) too tired to take it much further than I already had shoved it, I pulled it past the backpacks flopped on the floor and stopped it by the counters on the wall. Another voice, chimed in "You like Jacob, right? That's why you're sitting so close to him?"
I sat with my right leg crossed over my left, my shoulders slouched to the back of my chair. All I could muster was a glare and stern "No."
The class ended, nothing productive coming as a result of it, and I continued onto lunch.
As I walked the hall, my tiresome time trickled down my cheeks. I was done. I crimpled my face in my light blue hood and sleeves and broke my voice as I shrunk on my lunch. A moment went by when I heard a voice through my whimpers.
"Are you ok?" Rea was sat at the other side of the table with her friends, all seeming concerned.
Through my hiccups I answered. "No." I've always wondered, why even ask? By the time you want to ask you've already answered your own question. That's my case anyway. As I explained my past few days, I was practically reciting the email I wrote yesterday. How I'm not an Indian, the kid at the other table in 1st period, how in my nine years in schooling all the white men had the privilege of being referred to by name while all us sliver of native kids had to go off outside our families is Billy Frank JR. How I wanted enough respect to not have words put in my mouth. How I already have enough on my plate. How I was overwhelmed.
Rea and her friends watched me concernedly as I sat shivering. They let me go on with my rant till I crumbled past speech, and they had some room to ask, "Do you want a hug?"
"Yeah."
I stood up in anticipation. She speed-walked over in open arms, her friends following close behind her. And we hugged in the aisles of lunch tables as she let me cling to her back and cry on her leather shoulder.
I doubt they anticipated many native kids' reading the textbook, not like there's many of us here, four of us in the whole thousand-plus kid school.
Being called something I'm not, in more ways than one, just felt- I couldn't explain it. The concept was quite earthly, grounded to me. But putting it to words others could understand, and so that I understood that feeling before sharing it, was foreign.
Later that night, I wrote to myself and the void in a journal on my phone (was what i said for the school asignment, it was really tumblr drafts). About my eventful last few days, my frustration, my exhaust, and I said as much. Reflecting on my week, I wanted to have a vocalization of just how, weird it felt. I doubt Anthony "liked" me, I barely knew his name, let alone had we talked. The concept of someone liking me romantically is foreign, unwelcomed. Can't be controlled by either side, still just as off-putting.
I image they were antagonizing Anthony alongside me whether he did "like" me, it or not. I don't make it too well known verbally, but I'm Aromantic. No romantic attraction. In my case specifically the type where any romance involving me feels, for lack of better, more concise words, gross. It's purely alien to me. I just don't understand it.
My first "crush" was conveniently chosen at the end stretch of kindergarten. It was almost cartoonish how much I faked it, even to myself.
By the time 6th grade rolled around, I had counted about 5 "crushes" up to that point. I made it to my 4th period world history class and while playing "would you rather" I talked with a girl who agreed that pineapples on pizza was delicious, we concluded it was because their sweet-savory-ness. We were sat close together, and we talked a lot. I figured out she was gay from her telling me she was excited to meet her crush at the park later for a mini date. I didn't even care there was "someone else" I was just perfectly happy that she was so happy. I felt weird, not feeling weird, but it took another year to read between the lines, to figure out it was admiration and close companionship. (And more like queerplatonic attraction, but I didnt want to delve into ALL that for a school asignment)
The night of the 30th, it took till I was pacing lost in thought and song lyrics till I thought of how to word it, "Just the idea of someone feeling a romantic way about me feels gross. Let alone a kid 1 barely know... like it feels so gross I wish I was more articulated to explain it, the best synonym I have at the moment is that I need a shower. It feels like, sticky- like the equivalent of I just got dunked in syrup and it dried a bit then my hair being covered in gum to the point I may as well just shave it."
I realize now, I'm not any of these people's "truth," I'm not what they expect. I'm native, but I'm not dark. I don't want to be a prince charming, or to be "saved" by one. I'm not what any of them name me. I'm not a "hostile Indian" or, better yet "Noble Savage" (both attributed to a documentary we watched in class). I'm not going to find "the one" nor do I want to. I'm not the words they put in my mouth, what they decide I am.
The days moved on. The class moved on.
The boys mostly stop bothering me.
The second of October, a new kid at the same table as add reading kid, chirped the headline of my morning, "If these people were still around today, Bugs Bunny would be their god." The only context I had was I think they were talking about aspecific region that used rabbits a lot in clothing and food, but the statement they were gone was laughably triggering.
From there kids didn't say much else. All I heard was my personal broken record.
From then on, I made sure I had my Aro and Ace pins, and my native pride shirts as often as possible, to show what I really am. At least if people don't know what the pins are they can assume I'm somehow queer and back off. At least I started wearing the pins at home. Not that many people would notice; or know what any of it means to me. But at least someone would. At least I know there are 3 more of us here, somewhere. Hiding in plain sight. At least I ultimately don't care for why people I don't know would care enough to comment. Or why I comment on them in all honesty. At least I can decide it doesn't affect me so I can scrub the stains gone. At least I have pretty good luck charms. At least I have Redbone's Come and Get Your Love.
I don't think its that I don't like history anymore, more often than not, I've learned, my favorite part of history is what is never taught.
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tatert07s · 2 years ago
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I am SO excited you are doing the ship ask thingie!!!!!!! *puts on glasses* okay so- 12 and/or, you decide, 19 for Merrill/Ghafar, please? :]]]]] <3 (sorry for being insane about them) 6 for Shahnoza x Cassandra?
I get it, bestie because Ghafar and Merrill run on hamster wheels inside my brain.
Thank you for the ask!
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12.) I feel like Merrill wouldn’t. She seems pretty independent, and I think she could easily indulge herself with tasks while she’s away from Ghafar, but he would have a hard time being separated from her HELP 💀💀💀. He gets either sad or really bored when Merrill’s not around. He tries his best to not express his despair, but Varric or Isabela always catch him and he’s like, “I miss her :C.” What a drama queen.
19.) Merrill does wear Ghafar’s clothes! Mostly his robes (chapons). They’re too big for her though because Ghafar is very tall (6’5). She actually keeps a couple of them at her place over at the alienage. Ghafar has taken notice that some of his robes are actually missing because Merrill had been taking them in secret, so he commissions his mother, Leandra, to sew her some robes. She’s a seamstress in my worldstate that used to make traditional clothing for her neighbors back in Lothering, but also apparel for her children.
6.) Answered here!
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