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suedesongs · 7 months ago

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These Are The Suede Songs 001: Early Recordings

Suede’s early trajectory is often described, especially by the band themselves, as “the world’s longest overnight success”. Four years of slogging the toilets of London, from playing humiliating gigs to, on one occasion, nobody at all, to appearing on the front page of Melody Maker, may sound quick, but in musical terms can feel like a lifetime. This was during the era of musical trends coming and going in rapid succession, a little like fashion microtrends today. Within those four years, Baggy and the Second Summer of Love, The Stone Roses and Spike Island, raves and ecstasy, made way for American grunge - precisely the opposite, and amongst this cultural shift, quietly grafting their way, were Suede.

Whilst there aren’t a great deal of surviving bootlegs or demos from this era, I still felt incredibly compelled to cover what I could find in a dedicated post. Research was rather fruitless at times, and I found much of the writing on this period of the band’s career to be marred (cough) by the insistence of male writers to throw all of their energy into a somewhat troubling obsession with what is perceived as the infamous Anderson-Frischmann-Albarn “love triangle”. I took to Twitter (or, blegh, X) to vent my frustrations, and received a reply from my friend Tasha who, much more eloquently than I, expressed how Justine Frischmann is viewed as merely an object in an interpersonal drama, rather than a fleshed out musician in her own right. Are women doomed to simply be accessories to their male counterparts? I find this disheartening when Frischmann is so integral to not only the Suede “story”, but, in my opinion, to what would go on to become the sound we all know, and love.

My analysis will frequently include my personal opinions, and should not be taken as definitive. Where necessary to the discussion of the songs, tidbits of info may be provided in order to “set the scene”. This series should not be used as a biography, but instead an exploration of a body of work. It will be by no means objective. I’m a massive Suede fan. I’ve travelled up and down the country for gigs, queued from as early as 6am for a coveted barrier spot, my cat is (in a roundabout way) named after an obscure Bloodsports-era B Side. I’m a self-professed fangirl. Having said this, I’ll do my best to not let this get in the way. And with all of the preliminaries seen to, we begin with,

Just A Girl (Anderson/Frischmann)

Though credited to Anderson-Butler, this light, airy folk ballad is reportedly the oldest surviving Suede tune, dating far before Bernard Butler joined. The version that appears online, and on the deluxe edition of the debut, is likely a home demo recorded by Brett Anderson and Justine Frischmann.

Anderson, in his memoir Coal Black Mornings, explains the titular girl, “north of England way”, is a Middlesborough-born Chemistry student called Emily, with whom he shared a flat on Daisy Bank road in Longsight, Manchester, in the year after he moved from Haywards Heath to the rainy industrial Northern city. ‘Just A Girl’ really couldn’t be set in any city other than Manchester. It describes the beginnings of a fond friendship, perhaps more, distinctly against the backdrop of a harsh, wet winter, overlooked by grey skies and red-bricked former warehouses. It’s the first, blushing, awkward flushes of young love. It’s leaving your University lectures at half past three when it’s already pitch dark. It’s when you say something you shouldn’t to the person you fancy after a few drinks. It’s huddling under the covers to stay warm, the excitement of closeness and companionship.

I typically have a complete, and near visceral, aversion to anything, musically or otherwise, that can be described as “twee”. Just A Girl, I feel, does undeniably dangle its harmonies and lyrical depictions of turning the page of one’s favourite book perilously close to the jaws of this accusation.Yet, I simply cannot bring myself to dislike it. Whilst musically competent, if a little naive, it’s sweet and genuine, and for that, it’s rather lovely.

There are already some allusions to Anderson’s later lyrical themes; the combination of love and tragedy as he laments how “it could have been so different if we’d only had more time”. Anderson, as we’ll explore, is rarely one to write a straight love song. No matter how they may seem, there is always a thread of tragedy, or drama, which underpins the affair and protects against it veering into saccharine territory.

For a few years now, I’ve cited the “ashtray eyes and bootlace ties” line to be a direct harbinger of some of Anderson’s later lyrics, most likely thinking of 2011's ‘Brittle Heart’,from his solo album Black Rainbows. However, this is in fact, lifted from Ian Drury’s ‘Sweet Gene Vincent’, more directly alluded to with Anderson and Frischmann lamenting how “Sweet Gene Vincent was never that good”.

According to Anderson, on regular rotation on the turntables of himself, Frischmann and Mat Osman around this time, were a band called The Lilac Time. Quoted in David Barnett’s comprehensive biography, Love And Poison, he describes them as “quite light, leftfield pop sort of thing (...) lots of major seventh chords”, and this influence is abundantly clear on ‘Just A Girl’, and would have possibly done even more had it made it to the studio around this time.

Frischmann’s, when she and Anderson met, record collection was largely comprised of folk music. In an irritating display of arrogance, Anderson insisted that these records would “no longer be listened to '' with him now in the equation. This decision would, of course, prove seminal in the trajectory of Frischmann’s music career in Elastica, as Anderson introduced her to spiky post-punk, however I find this to be rather ironic considering the undeniable folky nature of this particular song.

‘Just A Girl’ would later be re-recorded by Anderson and Richard Oakes, possibly around 1994, though reports of this vary, but not released to the public until a B-side was required for the single ‘Attitude’ in 2003. More on that (much) later, of course.

Natural Born Servant (Anderson-Butler)

‘Natural Born Servant’ is the actual first song in our timeline to be written by Anderson-Butler, and sees Suede as close to flirting with Baggy as they ever would.

As a result, this one comes across as rather trite, not to mention overlong, clocking in at six minutes and twenty seconds.

During my initial re-listen in my research for this project, I found myself incredibly puzzled as the chugging, Madchester intro spluttered into a half-hearted groove, before realising I’d gotten it entirely confused with a later track, ‘Be My God’. Frischmann shows herself a competent backing vocalist, possibly more so than Anderson. One YouTube commenter, possibly humorously, alludes to him “doing a Phil Oakey”, and there is indeed a resemblance. Anderson’s, however, is more naive, though he can certainly carry a tune and his voice is pleasant and sweet, possibly to the song’s detriment, when one considers the subject matter.

Much like a large proportion of Suede’s work, ‘...Servant’ sees Anderson dallying with sexual imagery, and more specifically, BDSM imagery. This attempt, however, whilst enjoyable enough, is surprisingly sexless. It’s almost a feat in itself to write about sex in such a decidedly virginal manner, but I’m glad this was a theme he stuck with throughout his lyrics and it hints at greatness yet to come. More interestingly, however, is the use of sexual imagery as a commentary on class struggle. “You’re a natural born servant/this is the time to open your eyes”, can be viewed as a submissive accepting their place, or a working class individual gaining class consciousness and becoming aware of their oppression in society.

I must say, I’m glad that this was as far as Suede’s relationship with Baggy really went, at least in the recordings I could find and actively listen to. It’s common to speculate of a song like ‘...Servant’ being indicative of a type of “alternate universe” Suede, but I couldn’t disagree more with this. Suede and Baggy just doesn’t work, and they would have always found their sound one way or another.

Justice (Unknown, possibly Anderson-Frischmann-Butler)

Surprisingly, this is the only song of this lot that I find myself drawn to the YouTube search bar to listen to out of choice. It’s almost certainly my personal favourite of all of the pieces we’ve covered here.I even found myself lip syncing to the chorus as I wrote this very paragraph! Oddly, I can’t find too much to say about it. It’s a sweet little, possibly even catchy, slice of Jangle pop. One of the thousands of happy-sad breakup songs of the late 1980s and very early 1990s. Anderson likens it to Aztec Camera’s ‘Oblivious’, which is a far, far better citation than the endless Smiths comparisons I once myself fell privy to, which have since become a cliche.

We again hear Anderson’s vocals not quite having come into themselves yet, there’s a hint of insecurity and hesitancy. They’re so far removed from what we understand as his vocal styling, that one YouTube commenter on the version I found asks if Butler sings vocals. There is present, however, a deep understanding of melody and an undeniable hookiness. I can see myself going back to this one for the odd listen.

Wonderful Sometimes (Unknown, possibly Anderson-Butler)

Gary Crowley, the geezer-ish presenter of the Sunday Afternoon show Greater London Radio, was the host of Demo Clash; a competition held each Sunday on the aforementioned radio station. As the title suggests, this was a show where London bands would send in demos, that would go head-to-head in a public vote. As pointed out in Love and Poison, however, this would largely amount to a game of “who has the most mates”. Anderson would later show dismissal, if not outright disdain for ‘Wonderful Sometimes’. In Dave Thompson’s Suede The Next Life, First Time Around, he describes the song as “shit (...) nothing to get interested in. (...) [GLR] was a little local station, and we’re talking about London where everyone’s in a band.” Still, it would end up on a compilation cassette called What The World Is Waiting For compiled by Adrian Gibson, programmer at Powerhaus on Liverpool Road, N1.

According to the Discogs listing, the idea was to showcase ten up-and-coming bands who were performing at the venue during this time (from a title like that, go figure). There was additionally a launch night at The Powerhaus, and Gibson was interviewed by Crowley to promote the gig.

As for the song itself? ‘Wonderful Sometimes’ contains a few witty one-liners, “you couldn’t liven us up with a cattle prod” and “i’ve heard of happy ever after / it was just a joke but you could die laughing” particularly stick out. Personally, I quite enjoy “Do I just love you ‘cause you look quite good”, but that’s because, as a young-ish woman and a passionate fan, this is an accusation I’ve had levelled at me in the past, and I know I’m not the only one!

‘...Sometimes’ is viewed by many as the holy grail of early Suede recordings, but for something so revered, it’s a decent enough piece of music, but it’s nothing special, even in the context of the other songs we’ve covered. Musically, I try to avoid Smiths comparisons, but here it’s unavoidable as the whiff of William, It Was Really Nothing and even some base notes of Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now, is enough to give you a migraine. Butler’s playing really is more Marr-ish than Marr, but drenched and sadistically drowned in a wah-wah pedal at times, eliciting a comparison to Fool’s Gold, though, mercifully, this is over much sooner.

More excitingly is a noticeable shift in Anderson’s vocal styling, now carrying slightly more confidence and having something of a personality. Here, he’s sounding almost like Robert Smith of The Cure, minus the “Robert Smith-isms”. A deliberately but self-consciously Sussex drawl (The Cure, and Smith, were from up the road from Haywards Heath in Crawley), and a slight nasal intonation.

Ultimately, I don’t so much understand the hype around this one - the reviews on RateYourMusic are unanimously positive, but it’s a jolly tune and, likely because of that, decidedly un-Suede.

#suede #suede band #brett anderson #justine frischmann #mat osman #bernard butler

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moonstrider9904 · 6 months ago

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The Wookiee Village

Chapter 8 of Moonwalker: The Flame

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{crossposted to Wattpad - coming soon} {crossposted to AO3}

Summary: As an incoming battle arrives at the Wookiee village, Sarah tries to balance out her feelings toward what she saw in the cave and her secret being found out by her squad.

Tags/Warnings: Mature. Canon-typical violence, confrontation.

Word count: 7.1k

Every detail Sarah needed to know about the happenings on the surface during her time inside the caves was told to her by Tech while they rode the Mylaya steeds towards the village. The arrival was smooth, and the squad was greeted by the livelihood of the village, with its warm-toned brown huts among the trees and the leaves shining with sunlight on them—it was a far more comforting sight than the previous village that had been lost to rampaging destruction.

The members of Clone Force 99 got down from the steeds and they were led by the warriors into the largest of the houses among the trees, and as they made their way up, they attracted many looks from the Wookiees they crossed paths with, though none were judgmental or ill in nature. It was a stark contrast from most of the other places they’d been to throughout the years.

On the main house, which sat on the thickest tree trunk, they were greeted by the sanctuary’s leader, a tall female Wookiee whose built was slenderer than that of her male counterparts, and her fur was of a brighter shade of brown that was complimented by her pale red hooded cowl. She walked towards them, aiding her steps with a large staff, and as she gazed onto Gungi and the members of Clone Force 99, her eyes appeared gentle and full of wisdom.

Tech took an extra step forward and lowered the visor of his helmet while his brothers removed their own helmets to greet the leader, introduced to them by the warriors as Yanna. As she spoke in her native tongue, Tech translated her welcome as well as her inquiry regarding their arrival and their reason for being there, to which Hunter was the one to answer.

“We came across one of your own, Gungi,” Hunter acknowledged, and then faced Yanna again. “None of us know what part of Kashyyyk he originates from, but we wanted to help get him here. Maybe he can find his home now that he’s among his own.”

Gungi and Yanna looked at each other and smiled fondly at one another before Yanna faced Hunter once more.

“It is always an occasion of happiness when one returns home,” Tech translated for Yanna. “And anyone who cannot find their home is welcome here to be one of our own.”

The squad smiled at Yanna’s words; they seemed to heal the somewhat nomadic nature that their own lives had taken in the recent months. Despite having Ord Mantell to return to, stability was a rare sensation. Being at a village with many people who resembled you, where warmth glistened and the air seemed to embrace everyone together, was a hidden desire that lingered among more than one heart in Clone Force 99. That longing for home emphasized the need to deal with the greater issue at hand, and as Hunter was about to address it, he adopted a foreboding look in his eyes.

“We ran into some Trandoshans along the way,” Hunter began. “They’ve burned down at least one village that we know of, and it seems as if they’re causing damage to more parts of the forest.”

Yanna closed her eyes and exhaled as a solemn aura washed itself on her, and she spoke, in Shyriiwook, “The smoke grows dense along the horizon, and the cries of the trees are far more constant. Kashyyyk is once again being targeted for its resources, but without the Republic, I fear this time we may not have the numbers to fight back.”

Hunter and Echo exchanged looks before the former faced Yanna again.

“If it were not for the woman and the child,” Yanna continued, “I would be quick to assume you are Imperial soldiers. Are the clones not of that allegiance now?”

Hunter shook his head. “We’re not with the Empire. And if you’ll allow us, we’d be happy to help in whatever way we can.”

Yanna directed a nod at him, bowing her head slightly.

“She says that in the meantime, she and the village would like to express their gratitude for helping their warriors and confronting the Trandoshans,” Tech said. “She is inviting us to remain here and share a meal with them.”

“Now you’re talking,” Wrecker chuckled. “Best way to bond species and cultures is through the belly.”

Tech raised the visor of his helmet and looked straight at Wrecker. “That is… wonderfully put. And I am inclined to agree with you.”

Wrecker placed his hands on his hips and grinned. “You should never underestimate me when it comes to my two biggies. Explosives and food.”

Wrecker then stepped forward towards Yanna and bowed slightly in acknowledgement, after which he asked her, in Shyriiwook, if he could enter the main hut. Yanna then gestured at him and the others to join them inside, leading them towards a table where the squad and the warriors gathered around. The meal itself was delightful with warm broths, seasoned meats, and earthy vegetables harmonizing together in a dance of flavors, and the more Sarah felt her stomach becoming full, the more she realized Wrecker had been right. Such a meal raised her appreciation of her current surroundings tenfold.

Hours passed and the sun continued to make its way across the sky, and little by little, the forest darkened. Sarah felt the need to get up and stretch her legs for a while, and besides, the forest was taking a beautiful shade of green due to the setting sun. She made her way toward one of the balconies and rested her hands on the wooden railing as she gazed out into the endless forest, relishing the sight of greens and browns, taking in every bird song and chitter.

Sarah was simply not used to that much green. Whether it was because she grew up on the arid desert of Jedha, or because she constantly returned to the seedy durasteel and concrete streets on Ord Mantell, or even having spent so much time amidst the storm clouds and white hallways of Kamino, a green so rich with life and nature was rare. Closing her eyes, Sarah took a deep breath in along with the scents of cooked food and fresh trees, and as she exhaled, she felt like she could have no other care in the galaxy.

But as she opened her eyes, part of her ached for her prior sentiment to actually be true.

Then, Sarah heard steps approaching behind her, and when she looked over her shoulder, she smiled softly when she noticed it was Tech. His helmet had come off and his eyes were glued to his datapad, but he walked calmly towards her way until he positioned himself at her left side, leaving enough space to not raise any suspicions or draw eyes onto them. Sarah remained silent as Tech continued to look at his datapad, waiting until he finally locked the screen and looked up at her through goggled eyes.

“One thing I have read about before in regard to the Force is the lingering physical effects that a vision can cause on whomever witnesses them,” Tech began. “That and you were down in a cave for an extended period of time considering you were down there by yourself.”

“Yes,” Sarah nodded.

“Are you sensing anything out of the ordinary after your odyssey in the caves?” Tech asked her. “Have you noticed any symptoms? Headache, soreness around the eyes?”

Sarah chuckled. “No, none so far. I did pass out after my vision, though.”

Tech’s eyes widened. “And why did I not receive a distress signal from you?”

“My comm wasn’t working,” Sarah said. “Even if it was, I didn’t have the time or the headspace to send a signal.”

Tech’s features seemed to harden as Sarah’s words did little to soothe his concern.

“I suppose we could work on improving reaction times in the event of an emergency,” Tech said. “Whether that is to enhance the reach of your comm, which I could do in a matter of minutes, or establishing a time limit of being apart which, after exceeded, we should immediately drop our current course of action to look for one another, no matter the circumstances.”

Sarah could only smile at him. “Tech?”

He exhaled, unamused. “I am serious, Sarah. To tell you that I was concerned while you were down there would be a severe lack of approximation to the actual sensation.”

“And I appreciate that,” she smiled softly—she would have reached for his hand if their relationship wasn’t still a secret from the others. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t think I was in any real danger. Difficult as it was to face some things, the Force was guiding me.”

“What things?” Tech asked.

Sarah sighed. “Just… the things I saw. What they could mean.”

“Please elaborate,” Tech requested.

“Well…” Sarah took a deep breath. “I had flashbacks of some things that had happened. I was in the same caves where I once entered with Crosshair, so he came up in my visions. I saw you as well. I saw a man I didn’t know, but… his eyes were blue. Then I saw some violence, clouds, explosions… things I can’t really make sense of right now.”

“Was that all you saw?” Tech had leaned in slightly closer with his unwavering attention fully on her.

Sarah had hoped he didn’t ask that. “I… I also saw myself.”

“Oh,” Tech replied. “Well. That seems straightforward.”

“I suppose,” Sarah nodded slowly. She had already decided she wouldn’t let herself stumble into that direction, not as long as she had her family. That much should be enough for the moment, and she wouldn’t force herself into discussing the worst of her visions out loud.

“I will still enhance the range of your comm,” Tech said.

A smile appeared on her lips again, and Sarah fought the urge to reach up and kiss Tech’s cheek. The two made eye contact, and by the way in which Tech’s eyes softened, Sarah could tell he’d picked up on her intent. Sarah hesitated, finding herself on the brink of perking up on her toes and actually kissing him—it wasn’t as if it would be much of a shock, right? She and Tech had spend a lot of time together, and she was sure Echo and Wrecker must have noticed when she and Tech were off elsewhere on Safa Toma, even Ord Mantell. And besides, Tech looked too damn gorgeous in the warm sunset lighting contrasting with all the green trees. After a few more seconds, he’d be impossible for Sarah to resist.

And just as she was making up her mind, she heard another set of steps approaching them, and quickly, Tech and Sarah flinched away from each other ever so slightly. Soon, Echo appeared with them, walking up to them on the balcony and positioning himself just between Tech and Sarah, indiscreetly having to push them both for him to have enough room, and Echo stood there in silence. He didn’t frown, he didn’t smile. He didn’t have a particular expression on his features, and after a few seconds that felt eternal, he finally turned his head to look at his oldest friend.

“Sarah,” Echo acknowledged.

“Echo,” she reciprocated.

Echo then faced the other way. “Tech.”

“Echo,” Tech said as he pulled his datapad out once more and glued his eyes to it, not once making eye contact with Echo.

A few more seconds passed in silence, and Echo turned to Sarah again. “Say… you’d tell me if something was new with you, wouldn’t you?”

Sarah nearly laughed—of course nothing would get past Echo.

“Eventually, I would,” Sarah replied.

“Ah,” Echo nodded slowly, raising his eyebrows at her, his gaze whispering you don’t fool me. Then, Echo faced Tech, inquisitive. “What about you? You’d also tell me if there was something I needed to know, right?”

“Yes, I would,” Tech answered without a shadow of a doubt.

“And?” Echo prompted. “What would that be?”

Tech raised the datapad and looked out into the forest. “Trandoshans are incoming.”

All hints of mischief left Echo, and he looked into the datapad alongside Tech.

“Smoke is approaching from the west,” Tech said. “It will not take them long to reach this village.”

“We need to warn Yanna,” Echo said, walking back inside. “Hunter!”

Upon Echo’s warning, movement spiked among the hut. Wookiee warriors who had been enjoying leisure time mobilized into formation, and out in the balcony, Sarah and Tech faced each other in concern.

“Your comm,” Tech said. “You must promise me that at the first sign of danger, you will contact me if we are not together.”

Forgetting any need to hide and keep secrets, Sarah gently cupped Tech’s cheeks and looked into his brown eyes.

“I promise,” she said.

With his free hand, Tech briefly brushed the back of Sarah’s palm before beginning to walk off.

“Tech,” Sarah called after him. “You too, alright? You’ll contact me too?”

Wordless, Tech nodded in response and slid his helmet on over his head, walking down the hut to aid wherever he was needed. Sarah watched him go for a brief few moments before looking at the table where she’d been sitting before, enjoying a meal. In front of the table, there was only one figure who stood still, facing her stern and stoic, with eyes full of heartbreak. Sarah didn’t need anything else to know Hunter had seen her with Tech, and her features fell in disappointment—despite her resentment, Sarah knew Hunter didn’t deserve to find out that way.

There they stood, Sarah and Hunter, looking at each other while around them everyone prepared for an incoming fight. Hunter’s wounded gaze, Sarah’s look of remorse, it added a bitterness to the foreboding that had fallen upon the village. And just as Sarah would have approached Hunter to try to say something, even if it was just the reassurance that she was planning on telling him, Gungi approached her and tugged on her wrist, asking her to follow him. She looked at Gungi for a quick second before looking back at Hunter, hoping she would still get her chance to talk to him before the inevitable battle struck, but seeing that Sarah was clearly needed elsewhere and preferred other places to be, Hunter put his helmet on and walked down the hut as well.

Sarah hated having to leave things like that—she didn’t regret giving Tech the assurance he needed, though—and she followed Gungi down to the ground of the forest, knowing there were more pressing matters to be dealt with. And so, she focused on him as well as on the number of Wookiees gathering around the trunk of the towering Wroshyr tree, each of them picking a spot around the trunk and bowing their head, as well as placing their palms flat on the bark. Sarah hesitated while watching, but Gungi gestured at her to come closer. Without questioning him, Sarah followed and did the same as the Wookiees.

When Sarah placed her palms on the Wroshyr tree, she felt herself becoming inundated with warmth and what she could only describe as the essence of the forest itself; life and rain and the symbiotic nature of every organism on the planet, all entwined together through the same vitality known to her as the Force. She closed her eyes and listened, feeling the sensation coursing through her as if it could wash away distractions, and it was then that she knew exactly what she had to do.

The Force wielders shall not be separated, and if only for this night, they shall follow the rule of two. The whole village must be like the forest, together as one, and only then can the adversary be defeated.

When Sarah opened her eyes, she felt both fulfilled and vacant all at once. The voice in her mind had been soothing, and the sensation had been so comforting that she didn’t want to let it go. Regardless, her mission was clear, and she looked down at Gungi without a shadow of a doubt, realizing she had been tasked with guiding him, if only for that night. If the Force thought her capable of it, Sarah wouldn’t question it.

Perhaps that was what Sarah needed, to not question the Force. If she could get Gungi successfully through the night, and by extension, the other Wookiees, maybe she could trust in her future not being doomed to darkness.

The Wookiee warriors relayed the details of the strategy to the rest of the village as well as the remaining members of Clone Force 99, who all listened carefully and without question or even the need to add anything to the plan, and it warmed Sarah’s heart to see them all in that position. She particularly kept an eye on Tech, who approached the Wookiees with a sense of curiosity rather than his usual intellectual dominance, even in spite of having it at the moment. Sarah tried to get glimpses of Hunter, but they couldn’t make eye contact even once during the briefing. Sarah was at least comforted by the fact that Hunter was getting on exceptionally well with the Wookiees, and he was clearly the one most open to their ways and their ideas. It wasn’t as if Hunter was the type to sit down and become destroyed by his feelings, either way. She knew Hunter would pull through anything with superhuman strength if need be.

The smell of smoke became prominent in the air, its pungent scent bleeding through the fresh green and natural scents of the forest. Not long after, the sound of the incoming tanks could be heard, and Sarah led Gungi towards one of the edges of the village. The two climbed one on each of the larger trees and waited for the tanks that were coming their way in hopes of intercepting them and leaving them disabled. With two tanks down, the rest of the villagers had higher odds of surviving the battle. From across the trees, Sarah and Gungi made eye contact when the first two tanks approached. The plan was clear—get in, leave the pilot unconscious, get back out, and join the front lines with the Wookiee warriors.

When the tanks were close enough, Sarah gave a nod at Gungi. She was the first to jump at the tank that was in proximity to her, making a swift and light landing on the tank’s hull, allowing her to be unnoticed until she broke open the cabin and took out the pilot, disabling the tank. The tank pulled to a halt and she emerged from it only to see that Gungi had been successful in his own affair, with him popping up from inside the tank with a big smile. Pleased that the plan had worked, Sarah and Gungi regrouped on the ground between the two tanks and were just about to head towards the warriors, when Sarah felt her marks burn and the hair behind her head standing on end. She gave a sharp turn in the direction she’d been called to look at, but her own instincts made her turn away.

“Get down!” She yelled at Gungi, pushing him to the ground with her as she leapt forward to avoid an incoming cannon bolt. The bolt caused a fire to catch on the bushes that were just past them, and shocked from having just nearly missed it, Sarah and Gungi perked up and looked behind them to look at its source.

A third tank had taken that route, one they hadn’t considered. The tank momentarily pulled to a halt, and a Trandoshan male emerged from it, staring at Gungi and at Sarah with blood-thirsty eyes and a wicked grin on his lizard-like features.

Gungi roared menacingly, and Sarah then knew who it was. It was Venomor, the leader she’d been briefed on prior to the battle by Gungi himself, and he was privy to Gungi’s Force-sensitivity. If there was a dangerous opponent during that battle, it was Venomor, and he’d no doubt want to take Gungi into the Empire’s hands.

“He’s gonna want to come after us,” Sarah told Gungi. “Let’s lead him away from the battle and we’ll call in reinforcements to ambush him from behind.”

Gungi got up and nodded at her, bringing out his lightsaber and igniting it. He gestured at Sarah to follow him deeper into the forest, and without a question, Sarah went with him. On the way, Sarah commed Wrecker and Tech, telling them to be ready for her signal, and it wasn’t long before Gungi had led them to a spot that felt more remote from the battle. As expected, a sole tank was approaching—Venomor had taken the bait. Sarah knew it wouldn’t be easy, but nothing had prepared her for the multiple incoming cannon bolts from the tank. She and Gungi were forced to scatter, each one hiding under fallen logs and bushes; Sarah figured it was fortunate that the cannon blasts had lifted smoke and dirt, otherwise, Venomor would have seen where they hid.

Sarah took out her comm, and she was just about to call for backup when her own theory was proven wrong, and another blast from the tank landed close to her—too close that it couldn’t be a coincidence, but not that close that it would harm her. Sarah was forced to put her comm away and gain some distance, and she then noticed that Venomor had actually gotten off the tank. She emerged from hiding with the rifle assembled, pointing it at him, and shortly after that, Gungi appeared beside her with his lightsaber ignited.

“You’re standing in my way, sweetheart,” Venomor told Sarah, aiming a blaster with one hand only. “Let me have the Wookiee and I’ll let you go.”

Sarah aimed the Firepuncher just beside Venomor’s foot and fired, unwilling to listen to anything from him. Unamused by her shot, Venomor pulled a large flamethrower in her direction with the other hand and ignited it, shooting a stream of flames at her and Gungi, forcing them into hiding once again.

“I think that was my bad,” Sarah acknowledged.

“He’s going to burn up everything around us,” Gungi roared. “Can’t you fire at his weapon?”

“No, that thing runs on fuel,” Sarah said. “If I shoot it, it’s going to explode, and we’ll have even more fire to worry about.”

“So what do we do now?” Gungi asked her.

Sarah looked him in the eyes. “We scatter. He can only focus on one of us at a time. He’ll most likely come for you, so I’ll take him out when he does.”

“Don’t kill him,” Gungi growled in his native Shyriiwook as he reached for Sarah’s wrist. “That isn’t the Jedi way. If it is his fate, it will not come by our hands.”

Sarah hesitated, but as she wasn’t a Jedi, she knew there were things about the Force only Gungi would have an insight on. She nodded at him and emerged from the bushes just after he did, circling around Venomor in the opposite direction. Venomor had indeed focused on Gungi, and it gave Sarah enough of a window to fire the rifle. She fired at his legs and his shoulders, but his Trandoshan build was strong, and it would take more than that to neutralize him. Sarah ran across the space and steadied herself while Gungi kept Venomor occupied, and she took two quick blasts with the rifle, one on each forearm, making Venomor drop the flamethrower to the ground with a loud grunt of pain.

Sarah gave a light sigh of relief, but she kept the Firepuncher aimed and ready. Venomor was slick, and since Sarah had only fired at his forearms, he still had use of his hands. Unnaturally quickly, Venomor took out a grenade and threw it at the tank just over the fuel compartment, and Sarah only had enough reaction time to gasp and cry out for Gungi to take cover. The grenade blew and caused an enormous explosion, with fire catching onto the adjacent trees, leaves, and bushes, leaving Sarah to run enough to barely take cover behind a tree. She was about to climb it, but the shock wave from the explosion made it to her and knocked her onto a tree trunk, causing her to fall to the ground afterwards, barely conscious.

Her ears rang and the sounds around her were muffled. She had a headache and her body felt sore from the impact, but she was conscious enough to reach into her belt for her comm to send a signal to Tech. She still remembered he wanted her to contact him if anything happened. Then, Sarah placed a palm firmly on the ground to absorb the planet’s life force, just as she’d done multiple times before, and through the essence of Kashyyyk, she was able to regain just enough strength to recognize Gungi coming up to her and helping her up. Sarah had managed to sit up on the ground with Gungi’s help, and just as she made sense of her surroundings, she felt a third creature nearby, one that wasn’t familiar.

Sarah turned sharply beside her to see the Netcaster towering over her, a large creator with far too many legs and eyes for her liking. Its pincers were pointed at her, and the creature screeched, and Sarah couldn’t help but cry out in response. She shifted on the ground in an attempt to get far away from the creature, but Gungi steadied her by hanging onto her shoulders and comforting her, holding out his hand to pacify the Netcaster. Sarah hesitated, but with deep breaths, she coaxed herself into calming down and managed to convince the creature she meant no harm and wasn’t a threat—it made sense to her. It was a neutral life form, not unlike a few of the ones she’d encountered in her time, some of them inside the very caves of Kashyyyk. Surely enough, the Netcaster made its way past Sarah and Gungi, followed by two more who marched along the burning woods.

They made it to Venomor, and he wasn’t as aware of how to deal with those life forms as Sarah and Gungi. Even if he had known, he wouldn’t have cared. Without a second thought, Venomor began fighting the Netcasters, giving Sarah and Gungi enough of a window to get farther away from him and the flames. When they were at a safe enough distance, they heard pained cries full of fear coming from Venomor, and they both stared, horrified at the sight of the Netcasters enveloping a weakened, terrified Venomor in their webs and carrying him up into the trees. Though Sarah was struck by such a scene, she controlled her thundering heartbeat and let the creatures be, remembering the words Gungi had spoken to her earlier. And soon enough, the cries had disappeared, and the roaring sound of crackling flames and branches replaced Sarah and Gungi’s worries.

The two got down from the tree and witnessed the expanding fire around them, ravaging the trees as well as the remains of the exploded tank. It would be far too much to put out even amongst all the villagers, and upon realizing that, Sarah took a deep breath and grounded herself, pacing slowly closer toward the flames.

She turned to look at Gungi and beckoned. “Come, now let me teach you something.”

Gungi went and stood beside her and put his lightsaber away as Sarah hooked the Firepuncher on her back, leaving her hands free.

“We’ll have to wield the Force around the flames,” Sarah said. “It courses around everything, remember that. If we wield it towards the flames and engulf them, we can extinguish them.”

Sarah held her hands out, knowing it would be no easy task, but she wasn’t alone either. Together, she and Gungi focused their energy on the same plane, two wielders of the Force working in unison to save the life of the forest—such a noble intent nearly prompted the Force itself to move on its own.

Tech had been running through the forest just as soon as he’d been able to detach himself from the battle. He’d heard the explosion and seen the flames expanding without Sarah’s signal, and he mentally cursed himself for waiting that long. He should have known better. He should have equated the explosion and expanding fire to danger, and yet, he was only just now running towards Sarah’s location with Wrecker and Omega following closely behind him. Tech had both of his blasters pulled out, ready to fire at anything that threatened Sarah, and by the beacon of her comm, he knew when she was in proximity.

When he and the others finally reached the location of Sarah’s beacon, they all stood still, bewildered by the sight. Tech’s eyes widened as he pulled branches out of his way to make the sight clearer, and beneath his goggled, his eyes widened in fascination as he witnessed Sarah and Gungi standing side by side with their hands extended forward, each one wielding what Tech could only conceive as massive amounts of power while they appeared to manipulate the flames around them. Tech watched as the flames decreased in size and were replaced by smoke, only tearing his gaze from the flames to watch Sarah guiding Gungi through it, until they moved their arms down in sync when the flames were small enough, and they had managed to extinguish the once raging fire in their area.

Exhausted, both Sarah and Gungi knelt to the ground. The two of them exchanged looks, panting and laughing softly at their success, and Sarah gently pet Gungi’s shoulder.

“Well done,” Sarah smiled. “Young Padawan.”

Gungi smiled at her. It had been a long time since he’d been called that, and a part of him gravely missed it.

Just then, Omega and Wrecker ran up to Sarah and Gungi. Omega helped Gungi to standing while Wrecker helped Sarah get back up. Sarah thanked him, and then she looked over in Tech’s direction to see him standing and staring at her, completely silent, and with eyes that were almost completely round.

Sarah chuckled and walked up to him. “Tech?”

“That,” Tech began. “That was the single most astonishing, intriguing thing I have witness in my lifetime. You must tell me how you did that. I will want to study further, much further.”

Sarah smiled gently at him. “You got it. I’ll elaborate on the way home, deal?”

“Deal,” Tech agreed.

“If you two don’t mind, we still have some fire to deal with near the village,” Wrecker interrupted.

“Of course,” Sarah sighed, partly losing her balance.

Wrecker had lunged forward to keep Sarah from falling, but Tech, standing next to her, beat him to it. He wrapped an arm around Sarah’s waist and helped her stand still, his eyes never leaving her even for a moment. Sarah gazed at him and smiled softly, grateful, and she too wrapped an arm around Tech while the other softly held his hand on her waist. Feeling eyes on them, Tech and Sarah looked back at Wrecker, who stared at him with his jaw dropped and his eyes quickly switching back and forth from Sarah to Tech.

“Um,” Sarah said. “Wrecker? Shouldn’t we head back? You could skip ahead, if you like.”

Wrecker’s gaze fixated on Sarah. “Oh, right. And I could just leave you and Tech all alone.”

“Whichever one you may prefer, we should probably head back to the village,” Tech answered, unbothered.

Wrecker chuckled. “I knew it!”

He turned around and helped Gungi back to the village. Omega stayed back for a few short moments and looked at Sarah and Tech the same way Wrecker had, and Sarah could tell Omega was struggling to hide a mischievous, painfully obvious grin before she ran off after Wrecker.

“They all know,” Sarah said into the darkness when they were finally alone.

“Oh, they definitely know,” Tech agreed.

Sarah sighed. “I’ll deal with them later. We should really get back.”

“We will deal with them later, my dear,” Tech corrected. “And there is no need for urgency. The battle is won and all that’s left is to put out the fire, but the warriors have that covered.”

Sarah smiled at Tech as he began pacing carefully, helping her along with him.

“I can walk,” Sarah said softly. “Really.”

“I will not ease my care until I have supervised a thorough medical examination,” Tech said. “Until then, I will aid you.”

Sarah blushed, grinning suggestively at him. “You’re so attractive when you’re strict about others’ well-being, you know that?”

“Then you’ll have quite some trouble concealing your appetites for me over the next few hours, my darling,” Tech glanced at her. “I will not let you out of my sight.”

Sarah gave a fake moan. “Stars, take me now.”

“Be serious,” Tech said.

“Okay, I’ll be serious,” Sarah said, leaning into him just a bit more as Tech continued to walk her back towards the village.

By the time the sun rose, the flames had all been quenched. Sarah rested on a cot inside one of the treehouses of the village with her back against the headboard, watching Tech as he put away his supplies. The sight of him taking the role of medical caretaker inside a Wookiee household brought back yet another swarm of memories to Sarah, but being in Tech’s company, these memories felt more sweet than bitter.

“Remember the time you had to inject an antidote into my butt?” Sarah giggled.

“Yes, I remember quite well,” Tech said as he finished cleaning up and put his helmet beside his datapad, looking straight at Sarah. “I do not know why you are making such a big deal of it.”

“It’s nostalgic,” Sarah smiled.

“Yes, but there is nothing there I haven’t already seen,” Tech replied.

Sarah gasped. “Tech! You sly dog!”

“I speak the truth only,” Tech picked up his datapad and approached the cot. “You are indeed alright, you just needed rest.”

“I told you there was nothing to worry about,” Sarah reached for his hand.

“Yes, well,” Tech said. “I will always want to be sure. Now, I should see how things outside are going. I’ll come and get you when we’re about to leave.”

“Okay,” Sarah muttered.

Her gaze lingered on Tech as he gathered his things and left the room, and just as he was on the doorstep, he was blocked by another figure. Both Sarah and Tech tensed when they realized it was Hunter who had appeared at the doorframe, and when he saw that they were both together, Hunter let out a heavy sigh and acknowledged Tech with slightly unamused eyes.

“Tech,” Hunter said.

“I was just leaving,” Tech answered. “Do try not to have your usual effect on her after whatever conversation you may have.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hunter frowned.

“Tech, it’s okay,” Sarah called from the cot. “Really.”

Tech directed a look at Sarah over his shoulder, and after nodding, he acknowledged Hunter one final time before making his way down to the village. Hunter and Sarah were then left alone in a thick, tense silence, and unlike most times in her life, Sarah had no idea what to say. She didn’t know where to begin. She didn’t have anything to hold Hunter accountable for. Stars, she knew he was the one who had every right to hold her accountable. Sarah looked at him, worried, waiting for whatever it was he had to say.

Hunter carefully stepped into the room, crossing his arms as he looked at her without any particular anger in his gaze. No, as Sarah watched him, she decided he didn’t look angry. Hunter looked tired. Weary. Disappointed.

“I…” Hunter broke the silence. “I heard about you and Gungi.”

Sarah felt some of the weight being lifted. If Hunter was willing to make some sort of small talk, it was surely a good sign.

“Yeah, well,” Sarah answered. “It was fitting for us to stick together and use our common abilities.”

Hunter nodded, finding himself at a loss of words. Sarah then sighed, and she was just about to speak up when Hunter held his hand out, softly shaking his head.

“Don’t, Sarah, please,” he stopped her. “This is already hard enough.”

Sarah nodded. She wasn’t pleased with sitting in that tension, but she didn’t say anything more in the meantime. It was then that Hunter reached for the medication that sat on the cot’s bedside stool, hoping to distract himself momentarily by looking into what was in it, but when he bent over, a small object seemed to escape one of his pouches. It was tiny, and it bounced a few times on the floor before Hunter finally caught it and held it between his fingers, looking at it and sighing in relief as not having lost it. Sarah looked at the object too, as well as Hunter’s relieved facade when he held it safely in his hand, and Sarah felt her heart plummet to her stomach when she realized what he was holding was yet another little nod at the first time she had been to Kashyyyk with Clone Force 99, one last reminder of her first time down in those caves.

It was the emerald that she’d gotten as a gift for Hunter.

Looking at him, she felt numb. A faint sensation of vertigo washed over her, swaying her as she leaned harder back onto the headboard to keep balance when she realized how tired she was of fighting him, how tired she was of hurting him, of punishing him. She realized how much it was hurting her too, and everyone else in that family, for that matter.

“I’m done fighting with you,” she finally admitted.

At that moment, when Hunter heard those words, his chest sank as he exhaled every bit of tension he held within him. He felt he could run to her and take her in his arms, tell her how sorry he was for everything he’d done, for all the pain he’d caused her.

“Sarah…” Hunter walked up to her, his arms extending, ready to pull her into an embrace. He hesitated, waiting for her to stop him.

But she didn’t stop him. She didn’t do anything.

“What is it?” He asked her, his voice hushed in fear.

Sarah met his eyes. “I only said I don’t want to fight anymore. That doesn’t mean you and I are still… you know.”

Hunter lowered his arms. “Of course. You and Tech, huh?”

Sarah breathed out, and she too seemed to release some unwanted tension. But when she looked up at him again, tears pooled her eyes.

“I was going to tell you,” Sarah said. “I have no excuse. You didn’t deserve to find out that way. Hell, you didn’t deserve a lot of the things I said or did to you.”

“I caused you pain, Sarah,” Hunter said. “I never wanted to, but I did. I understand if you at any point felt like you wanted to get back at me.”

“That’s not what this is,” Sarah said. “I promise you, Tech isn’t a rebound. I’m not using him, I never would. Tech has been there for me all this time. He’s been so amazing. And… well, this happened.”

Hunter nodded.

“I’m so sorry,” Sarah continued. “I know a part of you hoped we would get back together, but I just don’t feel that way, and it’s not fair for you to be holding on either.”

Hunter put the emerald back in his pouch and took a seat at the foot of Sarah’s cot, looking at her softly. “I can’t exactly tell you I’m thrilled about seeing you and Tech be a couple.”

“And you’re right not to,” Sarah said.

Hunter’s features softened, and he met Sarah’s gaze, and he looked at her with the sincerity only someone who loved unconditionally could muster.

“But I don’t want to fight with you either,” Hunter admitted. “You don’t have to be my lover, I just want you back.”

Sarah’s features softened too. “I can do that.”

“Just…” Hunter continued. “Just let me tell you, Sarah. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. All this time I’ve only wanted to choose what’s best for everyone but I didn’t stop to think about how it would affect you, and now you’re caught up in the middle of it all. You’ve a right to be angry at me, and I know I don’t always make the right decision.”

“I know you only try to do what’s best,” Sarah said. “And I know what a weight it is on your shoulders to know it hasn’t always worked out for everyone. That’s why I’m sorry too… for throwing it all in your face like that.”

Hunter nodded softly and mustered a subtle smile. “Thanks.”

Sarah nodded back, and after a brief moment in silence, she removed the covers from her figure and swung her legs down the side of the cot, ready to stand back up. Hunter helped her up from the cot, and the two walked out of the hut together, heading down the stairs.

“He does look after you really well, Tech. I’ll hand him that,” Hunter admitted.

Sarah smiled softly. “I’ll say. After the way he just bared his teeth at you?”

Hunter chuckled. “You should have seen him as a cadet. He took nothing from no one. After a few years, he simply decided to focus plainly on what mattered. You should take it as a compliment that he’s willing to invest time arguing over you.”

Sarah laughed softly in return. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Hunter mustered a smile, but Sarah could see it in his eyes. It still hurt for Hunter to have to let go of Sarah that way, and it hurt Sarah to cause him such a pain. But progress had been made, and if the two were heading down the village without arguing for the first time in a very long while, Sarah would accept it. For the time being, at least, it was time to go home, and they would be able to do it together, without the need to split up upon arrival.

Sarah found comfort knowing that was, in some ways, what was best for the family.

Thank you for reading! Please reblog to support me! Divider at the top made by stars-n-spice.

Taglist: @nunanuggets @arctrooper69 @jelly-m0onbeans

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NEXT CHAPTER ->

#the bad batch #tbb fanfic #tbb fanfiction #tbb tech x oc #tech x oc #moonstrider writes #the moonwalker series #oc sarah adhara #the bad batch fanfic #the bad batch fanfiction #bad batch fanfic #canon compliant #tbb canon compliant

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ariparri · 1 year ago

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The Ship of DieRuca

DieRuca is a ship between Diego Caplan, a Hufflepuff who is passionate about dancing and duelling, and Veruca McQuaid, a Slytherin who takes pride in both her duelling and flying skills.

In this post, you'll get to know how Veruca and Diego are within the AUs I ship them in. To find more DieRuca content, you can look through the #dieruca tag.

It took quite a while to write out since there was a lot I wanted to add in here. But I thought it was best to keep the main AUs I like to hyper-fixate on and imagine about. Also, I used DeepL for the translations for the quote. If I’m wrong, please let me know and I'll fix it.

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"You are the music of my heart"

A phrase often shared between the two in place of 'I love you.' Usually said in their native languages.

CANON

The two meet during their first year but aren’t officially acquainted until they both join the dueling club. Veruca mostly ignored Diego’s attempts in making conversation due to his constant flirting both during duels and outside of the club. After many duels ending in draws, Diego became part of Veruca’s circle and joined their adventures.

Throughout their last three years of Hogwarts, the two have gotten close to one another since the dancing competition hosted by Madam Rosmerta.

In 1993, Diego and Veruca officially started dating. The lead up to their relationship was slow with Diego taking the initiative in breaking Veruca out of her shell. Most of their dates involve picnics under the stars or walks in the parks. In 1995 they had their first child, Marisol, out of wedlock and got married some time after. In 1997, they had their second child, Carina.

Both Diego and Veruca take part in the Battle at Hogwarts alongside their friends and former professors while their children are at the McQuaid family home with their grandparents.

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GENDERBENT

Veren McQuaid, the strong and silent, intimidating boy has a soft spot for the flirty, and flamboyant girl, Doria Caplan.

Unlike his female counterpart, Veren appears to be much more intimidating. He's a boy of a few words as he struggles to express himself vocally, he believes his actions will speak for him. He is self conscious of his stoic visage since it often frightens others and causes unwarranted misconceptions of his integrity. His moments of poignant silence and his tall stature scares many away from him, causing him to suffer from loneliness. The closest he has to a friend is Carly (female Carson) since they grew up together. While he doesn't mind Carly's company, Veren gets grumpy when the girl tries to make him bond with others or try to speak for him. When he can't verbally express himself on most occasions, he usually shows simple hand gestures. When he does have the courage to speak, it's usually in the form of short one liners.

Doria would be described as flamboyant, farsighted, a bit egotistical and dramatic. In smaller doses though, those traits are often spoiled by habits of being crude and impatient. A little worse than her male counterpart. She entertains people with 'high-class' etiquette and shameless flattery. While she openly expresses romantic interest, she appears to be oblivious of her own romantic feelings towards Veren. She was completely unphased by his intimidating aura. She constantly showered him with compliments and sometimes even considered him to be her 'bodyguard' due to how easily he can scare people away.

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FLIPPED!

Flipped!DieRuca is a ship you might want to be worried about for Diego because Veruca is very clingy when it comes to her friends and lover.

While original Diego is a flirt, an excellent dueller and great at dancing, Flipped!Diego is quite the opposite. Flipped!Diego typically lacks self confidence. He's not as charming or flirty as the original, he is shy and sensitive and not much of a strong dueller. Flipped!Diego is always caught off guard whenever Flipped!Veruca shows up randomly. His affection for her might be questionable as he does care for her but sometimes finds her to be a bit exhausting to handle. Despite that, he appreciates how she treats him, with so much love and affection even if he's shy to openly be affectionate with her.

Flipped!Veruca is openly friendly, overly energetic, and bubbly until someone disturbs her happiness and triggers the creepier side to her happy personality. She can be extremely clingy, giving lots of hugs and holding hands. While Veruca is perfectly fine with her small circle of friends, Flipped!Veruca appears to be obsessed with making plenty of friends. A bit of an unhealthy obsession as she will force herself to be their friend by clinging onto them till they submit. She once locked herself in her room for a few days to make friendship sweaters for her and Carson. When she became close with Diego, she did the exact same thing but instead of five sweaters she made fifteen matching sweaters for the both of them.

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CARDVERSE

Veruca as the Acting Queen of Spades is no damsel in distress, and is in fact a strong and independent woman. She puts her duties as a queen before anything else and has no time fooling around with trivial matters. As a dominant ruler, romance is the last thing that comes to mind for her, if not ever. Her country and her people come before her and anyone else.

Diego as the King of Hearts retains most of his original counterpart's personality. Loyal, charming, passionate and understanding. He finds Veruca's high walls as a challenge to break down, and he often interacts with her more than the rest of the officials within the other regions. He likes to tease the Queen of Spades whenever he gets the chance, and enjoys the progress of seeing her open up more to him.

Veruca at first found his antics as a nuisance more so than anything. He was always distracting her from her duties and seemed to never take his position as the King of Hearts seriously. She started warming up to him after he showed concern when she was overworking herself. Her feelings for him started showing but since they were from different regions, she tried to deny any thought of being together. She does eventually enjoy his company more openly, and a misunderstanding involving a hand crafted gift starts a few rumors within the Kingdom of Hearts. Their relationship, though starting off as a secret, is easily noticeable by the public.

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MAFIA

In this AU, Diego and Veruca’s personalities are kind of changed. While Diego still retains his charming personality, it is mostly reserved for Veruca, his children and younger siblings. Around others, Diego is more serious, looking at everyone with a cold gaze as if he was staring right through them. When it's necessary, he can resort to ruthless violent acts. With Veruca, she keeps her witty remarks and plays off Diego's advances in the beginning of their relationship. When they get together, Veruca shows her more sentimental side. She's also aware of what Diego's family business truly is and turns a blind eye towards it, after all her family didn’t gain their wealth and fortune through legal ways either.

Veruca and Diego first met at a banquet at the Caplan residence when they were younger. Diego and Veruca’s fathers were friends so they were always invited to parties and other gatherings. Though they met when they were young, they didn't see each other again until adulthood. While Diego is slowly taking on the ropes of the family business, Veruca is a ballet instructor/administrator for a performing arts school. The two meet when Diego was late to pick up his younger sister, Mireya, after a lesson. Diego is aware that Veruca has no involvement in her family’s business and tries to keep her out of it when he’s with her. Unfortunately Veruca gets attacked by a rival gang and she’s in Diego’s care and protection.

The two reminisce about their past and enjoy they’re times together, however Veruca is often left confused and frustrated with Diego constantly switching between being sweet to distant with her. Their relationship deals with a lot of hurdles testing their trust and loyalties, but in the end they both overcome the obstacles.

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QUOTES

Veruca: "Would you stop me, if I ever tried to leave again?"

Diego: "I would. But if you truly want to leave this place behind, then I'll follow you wherever you go."

Diego: "I think peridots have become my favorite gem."

Veruca: "Oh? What makes you say that?"

Diego: "Your eyes, love. They remind me of your eyes."

Veruca: "Goodness, you can be so corny sometimes."

Veruca: "I'm sorry, how many kids did you say you want?"

Diego: "Aha, as many as we possibly can!"

Veruca: "Yeah, we're not competing with the Weasleys. I'll settle for three, but no more than that!"

Diego: "Three is fine by me!"

Veruca: "This is the fourteenth scarf you've gotten. Are you starting a collection?"

Diego: "Oh absolutely! I'm collecting scarves made with great material and style. Here, feel this one sweetheart. The fabric used for this is quite soft and the color would look great with your skintone."

Diego: "You're as gorgeous as ever, Ruca."

Veruca: "Oh stop it—, you spoil me too much. I don’t need all these jewelry."

Diego: "You should get used to it. I plan to spoil you for as long as I live. Nothing but the best for you."

Diego: "Mi cielo, I know you wanted to teach them young… but did you really have to blow up the wall?"

Veruca: "Our daughters are naturals! But, I guess I can start training them outside by using those old trees as training targets."

Diego: “Eres la música de mi corazón”

Veruca: “Is ceol mo chroí thú”

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FUN FACTS

❧ Their song is Stand By Me covered by Seal.

❧ Diego and Veruca get married on November 23rd 1995.

❧ They had their first child, Marisol on June 26, 1995. Their second child, Carina was born on July 28, 1997. Their third child, Ruairí was born February 4, 2003.

❧ Diego and Veruca enjoy slow dancing in their kitchen or garden after dinner.

❧ When Diego was traveling for dueling competitions, he would send Veruca souvenirs from the places he's been to.

❧ In both the Cardverse and Mafia AUs, Veruca is more passionate about dancing and pursuing a career in it rather than law or politics.

❧ Diego has a scarf for every occasion. His collection is big, he and his children often have little fashion shows with them. Veruca would join in by providing her brooch and pins collection.

❧ Diego had given Veruca a carnation that was enchanted to never wilt.

❧ Veruca's necklace she wears after their marriage has Diego’s initial, while Diego has a bracelet with Veruca's initial.

#dieruca #veruca mcquaid #diego caplan #about my ship #hogwarts mystery #hphm #harry potter hogwarts mystery #hphm mc #hogwarts mystery mc #diego caplan x mc

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nostalgicamerica · 2 years ago

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True story:

It doesn't take an Einstein to see that things are different today than they were in the middle of the last century. Not better or worse - just different.

The last time my wife and I visited our daughter she had to order her kids from their technology and come out of their rooms to say, "Hi." to Grandma and Gramps. Wait until they see their Christmas presents next December. Socks and underwear. That'll teach 'em.

My grandkids have choices that weren't available to me when I was a teenager; computers, streaming, smart phones, etc. Don't misunderstand - I would have been all over those things, too, were they available when I was growing up. I absolutely believe kids today are no different than when I was a kid. There is nothing 'wrong' with the up and coming generation that wasn't 'wrong' with those who came of age in the 50s.

There may be something wrong with the education system, or the culture, or with present day parenting, but not with the kids. The kids today will rise or fall to meet expectations, just as we did, and they would likely behave precisely the same as my friends and I did, if they were raised in the mid-fifties.

When I was a boy, we didn't have the options kids have today, so we had to make our own entertainment.

Throwing rocks at trees was always good healthy fun; we had plenty of rocks and more trees than rocks.

Standing on the trestle as trains from the mines or the sawmills rolled by underneath and pouring buckets of water down into the smokestack was great entertainment - that could keep us entertained for hours.

On occasion, If we were really feeling frisky, we would traipse over to the local golf course where the more affluent people rubbed elbows. We'd furtively sneak onto the greens and poop in the cups, smear it around with a stick, and then hide in the rough between the fairways. We learned many new and exotic words from the hackers. As an aside, it is my belief that the ladies were far more vocal and profane than their male counterparts.

But we all had individual hobbies. My real 'hobbies' were fishing in summer and hockey in winter, and every spare moment in between would find me reading. My younger brother and partner in crime was (and is) a talented musician and was all about his guitar and banjo year-round.

Some friends dabbled in shooting sports, some worked on cars or motorcycles, some joined me on the rivers, and some were engrossed with the arts in one form or another. We were as varied in our interests as we could be, given our options.

My friend Jussi was all about things aeronautic and aviation. He was always building World War II era model airplanes, both plastic and balsa, flying and static, which all hung from the ceiling in his room. He had rockets, and kites, and all the tools he would ever need to construct the models. He was the 'scientist' of our group and was always tinkering with anything mechanical. The family toaster malfunctioned; Jussi can fix it. The radio blew a tube; where's Jussi.

Jussi's room always smelled of modeling glue and model aircraft dope, even though his window was always open.

So often during the summer months, if the weather was right, we'd all gather in a field to watch the launch of his latest rocket, or first flight of whatever plane he had just finished. It was always great fun and I could always see Jussi's pride as his rockets arched skyward, a trail of smoke following behind, before seeming to pause at it's apogee and then begin falling. At that moment, the nose cone would pop off and a fabric parachute would eject and gently lower the rocket to where we waited below.

Unless, of course, the wind happened to be blowing aloft and carried the rocket downwind. Then we'd have to go on a hunt. There was more than one occasion when we couldn't find the rocket at all.

The summer we turned 14, Jussi happened to read an article in one of his many science magazines (Popular Science , maybe, or Science and Mechanics, or the ubiquitous Popular Mechanics and Science and Physics and Knitting) on a new sport; hang gliding. At least the sport was new to us.

More precisely, the article was about how to build a hang glider. It was complete with schematics and a supply list. It was detailed. It was easy to understand, even to young teenagers. It was obviously written for somebody with more scratch than we had.

When Jussi first suggested building the glider to the group of four friends who were enjoying homemade Popsicles on his back porch, we all enthusiastically agreed. Why not? What else did we have to do on a hot July afternoon?

We pooled our financial resources and discovered we collectively had $1.73. We weren't going to be able to buy the materials we'd need.

I'm a bit ashamed that I came up with the idea to use our mother's sheets. I suggested the five of us go to our respective homes and steal one from their mother's linen closet. King-sized, if they were available. My brother and I would swipe two, if we could.

Afterwards, we'd hike to Pelki's Junkyard to see if we could pinch something with which we could construct a frame and cross pieces.

We were all starting to get excited, especially Jussi. I could see the gleam in his eyes at the thought of soaring high above our town, waving at pedestrians, and dropping water balloon bombs.

At the time it didn't cross my mind that, other than gently sloped hills, which, by the way, were covered in pine and maple and oak trees, our town was surrounded by pretty flat terrain. I vaguely recall Skunk pointing it out, but that wasn't important at the time.

An hour or so later, we all met in Jussi's backyard and stowed the sheets in a Nehi box and set out for the junk yard.

Pelki's Junkyard was, just as the name might imply, a junkyard. But not just any junkyard. It was a junkyard's junkyard. The Pelki family had been in the junk business since before World War I. It had been filled with abandoned automobiles and household appliances from several surrounding communities over several decades.

If you needed a windshield for a 1925 Ford Model T, chances are Pelki's would be able to help you out. Need a door for a 1934 GE Monitor Top Refrigerator? Check with Pelki's.

An arial view of Pelki's Junkyard, a mile south of town, would have shown mountains of bed frames, barrels, engine blocks, tangles of wire, and stoves. It also had piles of pipes of all lengths and diameters, which is what we were after.

We weren't worried about security at the yard, as there was none. No junk yard dogs or even locked fences. More importantly, Elmer Pelki, the proprietor of the establishment, 80+ years-old with about four yellowed teeth in his head, knew us kids all by name and was always happy to let take whatever junk we might need so long as we didn't mess up his piles too badly.

We always treated Elmer with genuine respect and let him know if we took anything. He was a poor boy's supplier.

I'm sure the Popular Mechanics and Science and Physics and Knitting article didn't anticipate putting together a hang glider using the components we had available to us. It listed nylon and aluminum and brackets and specific nuts, bolts, and washers in it's assembly instructions.

We had none of those.

When we headed back to Jussi's place, we were hauling eight, fifteen- to twenty-foot lengths of conduit (not aluminum) of slightly varying diameters, several shorter pieces, and some leather straps we thought we might be able to use. We had no nuts, bolts, or washers, and Pelki's had apparently had experienced a run and was sold out of nylon of any sort.

The slog back to Jussi's seemed much longer, loaded down as we were. By the time we offloaded the components of our flying machine behind Jussi's barn, it was dinner time and we were done in.

Confident the hard part was in the rearview mirror, we all agreed to meet back at Jussi's the next day after our chores were done to construct our aerodynamic masterpiece.

'Masterpiece,' it would seem, is a relative term.

The following day, just before noon, all five us were in back of Jussi's place, laying out the rough frame of our glider and trying to map out the best approach in the assembly.

Immediately, those of us not completely brain dead (namely Jussi and Spud) pointed out that we had a problem. Configured as it was with two similar-sized pipes in a straight line, and two at an angle that met in the center, our kite was going to have a wingspan roughly 35 feet from tip to tip. We would have needed to empty our mother's linen closets, plus some of our neighbor's clotheslines to obtain enough fabric to cover the wings.

To solve the problem, we cut the pipes in half (a job that was back-breaking given that the Jussi's dad's hacksaw was dull and chewed up and the blade had a tendency to pop off every so often). The result was a much smaller, tighter wingspan.

We were still doubtful at the massive size of the beginnings of our hang glider, but Spud was confident. He and Jussi attacked the task of fastening the members of the wings together while the rest of us were given the job of sewing our sheet wing coverings together.

We spread our stolen bedding on the ground and I just shook my head. We had two, snow-white and pristine sheets (one king- and one queen-sized), a fitted queen that had once been lavender in hue, another sheet that might have once been king-sized that was a striped blue and white and full of holes and completely frayed at the bottom, and a small fitted sheet that not only seemed like it was designed for a toddler's bed, but also looked as if it had been urinated on. Often and recently.

As it was, there was no way we could cover the mammoth glider's wings. Jussi solved the problem and told my brother to get the tarp that was under his dad's workbench. When my brother came out of the garage he was staggering under the weight of a huge, folded, 20 by 20 canvas tarpaulin that he could barely carry. Jussi nodded and assured us his father wouldn't mind as he continued his task of drilling holes in the pipes.

We folded the tarp in half and cut it down the middle. We folded the halves in half and cut them on a diagonal to approximate the shape of our wings. With two boys punching holes every six inches with an awl, and me tying the edges with a spool of heavy jute we fashioned two enormous envelopes that would cover the frame wings completely, if not exactly neatly.

By the time we were done sewing the covering, Jussi and Spud were finishing up fastening the frame. They had sewn the pipes together using baling wire and, using a similar technique, inserted four crosspieces to provide stability. The center was a rough square with two wobbly handles the 'pilot' could hang onto during flight.

They used baling wire to fasten leather straps on the top and bottoms of the wings from one side to the other to provide wing stability.

Whatever else it was, the structure was sturdy. Jussi and I lifted it by the wing tips and gave the frame a vigorous shake. Only one piece came loose. I remember thinking that it seemed heavy for something that was going to soar through the air.

We then slid our canvas skin onto the frame, one side at a time and 'sewed' the two wide sides together. Spud and my brother cut slots in the fabric and threaded a twelve foot leather strap in a loop that met beneath the monstrosity.

Several hours after we started, the group lounged on the porch mouthing the ersatz Popsicles and 'admiring' our 'handiwork.' it was clear to all of us that the sprawling hirviö wasn't anything like the photos in the magazine.

It looked like a drunken and slovenly pterodactyl that had passed out. One side was longer than the other, and it listed to the left. To say I was dubious would be greatly overstating what I thought, but it was still awesome.

After the frozen treats were gone and the brain freeze had waned, four of us lifted the glider over our heads and gently pushed it off into the wind. I have to admit my surprise when it actually caught the breeze and 'sailed' about six feet before landing relatively softly in the weeds.

The next task we faced was trying to figure out from where we could launch our craft.

The highest point in our neck of the woods were The Cliffs overlooking Cutoff Road. The Cliffs were six miles away as the crow flies, and about half again as far if we manhandled the brown bomber by road.

To a man, every one of us said there was no helvetin way we were going to haul the thing to The Cliffs by hand. Besides, I am fairly certain had we hauled the thing to The Cliffs, not one of us had big enough kiveksets to strap themselves in and jump from 75 feet up.

Skunk pointed to Jussi's dad's garage as a possible test for the glider. At it's peak it was maybe 20 feet high. Perfect.

Fortunately, Jussi's parents were out grocery shopping or some such, because I am pretty sure they would have put the lopettaa to the idea if they saw us wrestling the gargantuan kite up onto the garage roof.

That's exactly what we did. Two ladders on either side of the front of the garage, one boy on each wingtip, two in the middle, and one pulling from the rooftop, we inched the 'glider' upwards. By the time we got it up onto the roof, I was confident the stupid thing wasn't a glider at all, but rather an anchor. And I was sure it would fly about as well.

Finally, the moment of truth: who was going to be the test pilot?

We all feigned interest in the opportunity and argued good-naturedly back and forth as if we truly wanted the honor.

The matter was settled the way we often settled disputes: shooting fingers. Two boys faced each other, one called odd, the other even and on the count of three 'shot' out one or two fingers. The number of fingers, even or odd determined the winner.

One by one the boys fell to superior fingers, until it was between my brother and me. He called even, leaving me the odd man out. I could see fear in his eyes as we stood next to the kite. I knew he didn't really want to be the pilot.

I also knew he always shot one finger. On the count of three I shot two and was left standing the 'winner.' My brother tried to act disappointed even as relief was painted all over his face. I'm not going to pretend I wasn't scared.

Even as the others lifted the glider up to allow me to crawl into the middle and literally tie the leather straps around my waist, I was terrified and I could feel my legs quaking beneath me. Looking over the edge of the roof, it seemed impossibly high.

"What's the worst that could happen?" I recall thinking to myself. I also recall thinking, "Paska, this thing is heavy."

That was the moment I should have backed out and let one of the others take the trip. The wing tied to my back seemed impossibly heavy and not at all aerodynamic, and the wings drooped terribly. But there was no turning back.

Like a gunfighter in the old west, a boy in my time couldn't show cowardice or it could follow him through his entire adulthood thereby limiting his earning potential and likely his choice of mates. My nickname would be changed from 'Orava' (Finnish for 'Squirrel') to 'Ei Kiveksia' (Look it up). Dad would have to hang his head in public and probably come to wish I had been born a girl.

No, I was stuck, so I silently repeated the question, "What's the worst that could happen?"

Spud and Jussi both suggested waiting for a strong gust of wind before I jumped (as if I could have jumped with the behemoth strapped to my back). I used mental duct tape to silence the voice in my head, and I forced myself towards the edge of the roof by pushing up and out as hard as I was able and literally fell off the edge. The glider caught the breeze and seemed to float away in slow motion from where my friends were cheering.

"It's going to work!" I exulted in my head as I floated from the garage. Two feet. Three feet. I was free from gravity! I was flying! Five feet. I was the next Lindbergh! Parades and stuffy speeches from politicians lauding my greatness were in my future!

Then a moderately strong gust caught the wings of the glider.

Jussi was at least a decade away from earning his mechanical engineering degree from MTU and so he had a few things yet to learn, namely, the stabilizing leather straps (or, more accurately, the tensile strength of the baling wire with which they were tied) weren't sufficient to keep the wings from folding up like a sheet of writing paper, which, when the baling wire snapped, is exactly what they proceeded to do

The two massive spans lifted up and met high in the sky above my head and the contraption plummeted to the ground like an anvil, taking me with it.

As they say, it isn't the fall that hurts you...

When the dust settled and my four compatriots extricated me from the broken albatross, they had to do so gingerly, after cutting the strap from around my waist, because I couldn't move my left leg, and my left wrist was rapidly swelling. One of the pipes had wacked the side of my head and blood was leaking from my right ear and my eyes were staring in different directions.

Spud somehow kept his wits about him and ran to Jussi's neighbor who carried me to his truck, laid me in the back, and drove me to the clinic two blocks away, and then called my mother.

It turned out that while my wrist was broken, my left knee and ankle were merely sprained, and I had a concussion. The other bruises and scrapes were inconsequential.

Mom, to her credit, did not offer to kill me on the spot. She didn't even do so when the sawbones gave her the diagnosis. She did, however, dress me down a bit as she ferried me and my brother home in her DeSoto. As she pulled into the drive she leveled her big guns. "Just wait until your father gets home!" It was the most severe and frequent admonishment Mom ever used with me and my siblings.

I'm sure Mom and Dad were relieved that I'd survived but they tried to use me to set an example for the rest of their brood.

While they read us the riot act and grounded me and my brother for the remainder of July, I couldn't help think how loved we were. Even as they were doling out their harsh discipline I could see through Mom's tears and Dad's sternness. I could see they were only concerned for their sprouts.

Late that night I lay in bed reviewing the day waiting for sleep to claim me. I could hear Mom's and Dad's voices discussing their sons coming up from the kitchen through the vent. Mom was sure they were being too soft and that we were going to drive her to drink, but Dad was laughing and telling her that's what kids do. They get bumps and bruises, pick themselves up and hopefully learn lessons along the way. By the time I drifted off to sleep, they were both laughing.

I did learn a lesson from my brief flight, and no, it wasn't to always listen to that quiet voice in my head that suggested caution. I would continue to mostly ignore that voice for many more years until the falls and bumps and scrapes beat me into a state of reasonableness.

No, the lesson I learned is that there is no idea so stupid that someone, somewhere won't look at it and say, "Why not?"

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tariah23 · 3 months ago

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Uhhh

Ppl on twitter have been going on about the misogyny in jjk but literally, if you have any sort of comprehension skills at all, and have been reading it since the beginning, then you’d come to acknowledge that Gege has always given the same treatment to literally every character regardless of gender so I’m always like “wtf are you people talking about m….? Did we not just read the same manga?” I feel like it’s easier for this topic to be approached with the “jjk girls get treated like shit just like female characters in any shounen,” because of there not being a ton of female characters, especially ones that are currently active within the story, so I can understand the complaints from this particular standpoint but again, it’s just… as someone with a brain, I just never got what people were going on about tbh.

Characters who got fridged (like Tsumiki), I can also understand why people would be annoyed with how the female characters are treated in the story (but he literally gives everyone the same treatment so it makes me look at the whole case with Tsumiki as a “well, he did mention somewhere that he wished that he could’ve did done more with her.” The way that she was written like a prop always annoyed me because you can tell that Gege probably had something much more important set up for her but eh… and he did get sick around the time where the writing had started to fall off quite a bit. The payoff wasn’t that good to me and I’m not looking forward to that being animated tbh 😭!)

I’ve talked about Shoko a bit and I don’t feel like doing all of that again but recent stuff has been talked about by other fans (shippers have been annoying about it but I am happily looking the other way 🙂‍↕️-) but the misinterpretation of her character by fans and the way that Gege plays around with her importance to her friends has always been insanely annoying.

Other characters like Nanami could be considered to fall into the same lane as her as well… it’s just the way that Gege kind of pushed her into the role of being “the girl,” (she’s not to ME 🗣️) (probably because she’s a noncombatant sorcerer too so it’s not like he’d have many opportunities where he could fit her into the story as much since jjk always gets straight to the action and horror of what it’s trying to convey…) but the way that fans who push her to the side for shipping purposes is kind of a result of Gege keeping her out of sight, out of mind, and downplaying her importance to her peers. Especially Gojo. Gege got her fucked up actually well 👎🏾😭.

People go on about what happened to Yuki but she’s always been a pretty cool character and I’m still DEVASTATED but she did what she had to do… my only issue with her is that Gege got ride of her as soon as we got to actually see her being a REAL sorcerer 😭… why so soon!!!-!/$:!.&.&z she was still raw!!!

There were other female characters who operated as fodder/ side characters but it was literally just your run of the mill, villain of the week shit in the same vain that their male counterparts were used as.

And people forget that misogyny has been a topic that’s been brought up on multiple occasions within the actual text of JJK. Jujutsu society within itself is literally built upon the conservative, patriarchal values and beliefs of old men who refuse to get with the time so again? Did we not read the same story 😵‍💫…? Like, I’m not even defending Gege because he could’ve given us more than he has but it’s never been as bad as the way certain fans have made it out to be if I’m being real 😭… just talking just to talk.

They’re especially annoying whenever they bring up Nobara and make the same ole’ “Gege can’t write female characters and hates them so much!” Threads sksksksl. I still remember ppl saying that Nobara got the “Sakura treatment,” before I’d gotten far enough to learn more about her character back when JJK was still new to me and after reading ahead, I was so lost like eh…? Nobara was so cool and written insanely well to simply be a female character trapped in a shounen of all things. I got my friend to start JJK not too long ago and she herself had even stated that Nobara was pretty well written from what she’s read so far and that you typically don’t see female characters written like her since archetypes such as hers are usually given to male characters anyway. Gege did her bogus but while she was still in the story, she ate every scene she was present in and I’ll always appreciate Gege for giving his female characters actual personalities outside of simply being the girl in the gang (outside of Shoko… again, it has more to do with the fact that she wasn’t as present throughout the story as a character vs her counterparts… which sucks a whole lot) who is also the love interest all of a sudden. Nobara was so fun, man. I wished Gege could’ve put us out of our misery sooner by confirming that she’d really DIED instead of waiting this fucking long to do soansjN. I’d been waiting with baited breath for eyepatch wearing Nobara to make her debut for YEARS now *jumps*

Maki is just…. 😨👍🏾!!! applauding for the rest of my life… her whole story is literally tied to the fact that she is a girl, with a big part of her mistreatment being the result of her also being “disabled,” in the eyes of a sorcerer. That’s not the word that I’d like to use since she isn’t actually disabled, but in the world of Jujutsu, and especially from the likes of her clan, you’re automatically seen as inferior if you aren’t born with cursed energy and so on. You’re literally nothing and if you’re a woman, you just keep your mouth shut, keep the house clean, cook, and have kids. It’s a mess. Maki was so cool, man. She really came up and I just really loved how Gege handled her story… I’m not looking forward to THAT arc being animated because of how sad the ending was… I cried and I get so emotional whenever I think of Maki and Mai 😭😭😭👎🏾.

People can’t even use Momo and Miwa as an excuse since Gege kind of didn’t do anything with the Kyoto students at all outside of Todo’s cool ass and Mai was sort of only important because of Maki’s importance to the story but even so, I still enjoyed Mai on her own. I guess I’m really sensitive about Maki and Mai since I’m also a twin so it’s just 😭…

#rambling #sorry for talking about jjk 😵‍💫

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fancylala4 · 6 months ago

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I’m making this trend because this post on twitter was dumb and I’m sick of sailor moon manga stans trashing the 90s anime. It’s always because of the fact it doesn’t follow the manga at all and that it’s more popular than the manga ever was. Here we go:

Well, it’s definitely a anime from the 90s and it has a lot of things that didn’t age well at all. It was empowering at the time but it still had a lot of issues. I would say the same thing about the manga and other anime series from the 90s as well.

Wow, two teenage girls making fun of each other like they were close friends? Anti feminist! lol, this is such a dumb argument. This is a huge part of the rei and usagi’s relationship. They fight and make fun of each other but you can tell that they still care about each other. If they didn’t, rei wouldn’t have risked her own life for usagi in many occasions. This is how some relationship in real life works as well. In fact, rei makes fun of usagi in the manga too. Is it anti feminist there as well?

Yeah, you can tell here how much she hates the 90s anime here. Why is she whining about something that happens in the manga too? It’s the manga’s fault this storyline was in there in the first place. Also regarding the whole “at least in the manga she talk to momo about it” point here is that the issue isn’t resolved. Even after she talk to momo about it, she was still jealous of her own daughter! It was so much worse there as usagi was had to be told by makoto that momo cares about chibiusa because she was usagi’s daughter! In the 90s anime, usagi will always jump in and protect chibiusa. Also at least in the anime, chibiusa only had a childlike crush on momo and she only showed love to him to get under usagi’s skin. In the manga, she actually loved him, kissed him three times and was upset that she couldn’t be with him. It was so bad in the manga.

I’m agree that the break up thing in the 90s anime was awful. However, rei was supportive of usagi on many occasions in the anime. She used out of context scenes to prove her point that rei is being a bad friend. I can list many occasions in the manga that shows how usagi didn’t care at all about her friends too. But op will just deny it because she loves the manga no matter what.

This is so funny. The same old “naoko hated the anime and thought it was an insult to life itself” crap these manga stans use. Yeah, she did say that her manga was for girls but what girl wants to see the main character get sexually assaulted three times and a child kissing her own dad? In fact, if you tell anyone the manga has this weird stuff in it, no one would read it and just watch the 90s anime instead. I don’t really get what she means with makoto and minako being written in a male lens. I know what the “issue” with rei is with them and it’s the she is interested in guys while the only trait her manga counterpart is known for is her one line about hating men. Maybe that minako wasn’t really a leader in the 90s anime but that’s all I can think of. I think she’s just mad the girls had a life outside of being usagi’s protectors.

People were accusing Crystal of being anti feminist because all usagi cared about was momo and didn’t give a fuck about her friends. Remember in one episode where her friends were getting beaten up by villains on a tower and she was there with momo just watching on the sidelines? Her friends were in danger and she couldn’t be bothered to jump in to help them. It’s even worse when you see that it wasn’t like that in the manga at all. There’s also the fact they made the girls so much weaker in the show then they ever were in the manga and made momo much stronger. Take that cringey scene from the Zoisite fight where tuxedo mask punches him in the face and saves sailor moon while her friends were KO for the 50th time. Again, this never happened in the manga. This happened a lot in Crystal and it wasn’t a good look for a show that was about girl power.

I also kind of find it odd how she is defending Crystal for focusing mainly on a romance but hates the fact that the girls in the 90s anime were boy crazy. Once again showing that she just hates the 90s because it’s nothing like the manga.

lol that “it was written by a woman meaning that the book is feminist” thing. Some of the most misogynistic manga and books I’ve ever read were written by women. Heck, trash ass books like twilight and 50 shades of gray were written by woman. Guess what, those books were far from being feminist. It’s a dumb argument to say that a book or manga is feminist because the writer is a woman. Plus the manga had a bunch of weird things in it that didn’t age well.

This trend was so bad. Why couldn’t she used real examples of sexism in the 90s anime? Like the up skirt shots of teenagers, the awful dieting episode and the overly sexual transformation of chibiusa/ black lady. Whining over stupid stuff like how rei is into boys and a plot point that is actually taken from the manga isn’t helping her case at all. All she needed to say was that the manga is the very best, the 90s anime sucks because naoko hates it ( I’ve never actually seen her say this but these stans act like she did) and go.

#mine #rant #long post #anti sailor moon manga stans #sailor moon #I would say that the 90s anime didn’t age well but so did the manga as well #tw sex assault mention

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fairysbookshelf · 5 months ago

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Here for the Cake by Jennifer Millikin

Book Stats:

Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️(3.75/5)

Spice Rating: 🌶️🌶️🌶️(2.5/5)

Tropes: Second Chance, Fake Dating

Publisher: Indie

Summary:

Paisley’s sister is getting married. What would be a joyous occasion is dragged down by the fact that her sister is marrying her ex, Shane. On top of that, ever since Paisley decided to branch out against her father’s wishes, their relationship has been strained. In dropped in Klein, an old college fling that happens to stumble apon the bachelorette party that paisley thru. Now, in exchange for helping market his book, they are now going to the wedding together to help Paisley face her family, and her ex.

Review:

First off, the diction in this book? Better than like, 90% of every book I’ve read probably in the last two years.

This novel just feels very believable. The setting is very realistic and the plot seems like something that could happen in real life. The family drama as well. It happens all the time that people don’t get along with their family, and it was good to see that take in the book. I feel like the struggle of getting along with family is one we don’t often get to see in romance books. It was really shown well in this book how you have to get along with these people because they are your family, but it can be really hard some times.

The banter and nicknames are very cute, and did add a major comedy element to the story. Especially in moments where it was needed due to the family side plot.

The characters themselves felt realistic. Both the FMC and MMC had some depth to them. The FMC definitely more than her male counterpart. He just felt very much put on a pedestal to me as a knight and shining armor. For the FMC, we really get to see some great character growth.

My only two things that kind of turned me off were the pacing and the chemistry. The pacing was just kind of all over the place. It skipped from going slow to going a million miles a minute and then slow again. The chemistry was okay, but It did feel a little forced at times-especially towards the end of the book. These two things made the actually love story feel a little less romantic. It’s hard to follow it when you’re jumping around constantly. It made the falling in love part weird, because as much as we see these two characters interact, we don’t see the little things that make them fall in love with each other.

I think if you’re someone who is looking for a fun summer beach read, this could be it. It’s a medium length so enough for a weekend trip and some great comedy.

#book of the month #book quotes #book review #bookish #booklr #books #books & libraries #books and reading #bookstagram #bookworm

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looneyleyle · 1 year ago

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darlin pt. 2 ~ f. odair

pt. 1 ||| pt. 2 ||| pt. 3

synopsis: finnick and aldrea have both survived the hunger games once, can they do it again?

warnings: hunger games typical violence, death, mentions of panic attacks

words: 7525

aldera pov

after the 74th hunger games, things were oddly quiet in district 10. we heard whispers of uprisings in the other districts, but we were too busy trying to find our next meal to contribute to any rebellion. the sentiments were there, though, the anger towards the games and the capitol, and the hope that katniss and peeta gave the districts. but we kept quiet, keenly aware of the peacekeepers lurking at every corner.

in all honesty, life in district 10 had become quite repetitive for me, though i'd never admit it out loud. it felt insensitive. everyone else in the district was fighting for their lives, and yet here i was, sitting in my comfortable home with more money than i needed, without a job or need for a job. not everyone was struggling, i guess. imena was finally getting better. she had a beautiful baby girl with, ironically, one of the cattle slaughterers in the district. he was really quite kind, forced into the job much like imena was with the games and mentoring. i would babysit their girl from time to time, either when the two wanted some time to themselves, or on the rare occasion that imena would have another breakdown.

the 75th hunger games were quickly approaching. the quarter quell, as they called it. every quell, there would be some sort of twist to make the games more exciting for those sick bastards in the capitol. in the first quarter quell, the districts had to vote on who to send into the games. in the capitol's eyes, it served as a reminder that we were the ones who chose to start the rebellion, and that we were the reason why the hunger games even existed. in second quarter quell, each district sent in four tributes as opposed to the usual two, reminding us that for every capitol citizen that was killed in the war, two district rebels died.

at order of the capitol, all citizens were to watch some sort of special announcement today, presumably to announce this year's twist. i sat alone in my living room, a cup of tea nestled in my hands. as snow appeared on the screen, anger flowed through my veins. just looking at him made me want to throw some sort of weapon at him. maybe a spear. maybe a dagger. or maybe a trident.

"ladies and gentlemen," he started, the capitol citizens going wild for him, "this is the 75th year of the hunger games, and it was written in the charter of the games that every 25 years, there would be a quarter quell to keep fresh for each new generation the memory of those who died in the uprising against the capitol. each quarter quell is distinguished by games of a special significance. and now on this, the 75th anniversary of our defeat of the rebellion, we celebrate the third quarter quell, as a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of the capitol." each word out of his vile mouth caused my skin to crawl. it was a jab at the districts, a threat, maybe even a promise.

"on this, the third quarter quell games, the male and female tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of victors in each district." i felt the world closing in on me. my breathing became shallow, and i had to shakily put down my cup as to not drop it all over myself. "victors shall present themselves on reaping day regardless of age, state of health, or situation."

the air was heavy, like a block of lead. i couldn't breathe. outside, i needed to get outside. i fumbled around until i got to the door. opening it, i saw that i wasn't the only one with that idea. my good-for-nothing mentor counterpart was out, throwing empty beer bottles at the ground in rage. imena's husband was rocking his child in his arms in comfort, i could only assume imena was having a breakdown inside. her husband looked at me, and i could see it. he didn't have to come all the way over to me for me to see what he wanted.

he wanted me to volunteer for her.

why wouldn't i? on paper, i had nothing. no family to support, no parents to care for, no partner to come home to, no job to work. all i did was sit around all day. imena, however, had a family to support. she was already taking care of her parents by letting them live with her. she had a lovely husband to come home to at the end of the day. and while she had no official job, she was tasked with the burden of motherhood. it would be selfish of me to not volunteer. but could i do it? to volunteer would be to sign my own death certificate.

instead of answering his unasked question, i went back inside. somehow both the outside and inside were suffocating. at least inside i could suffer in peace, without judgement.

on reaping day, i wore a simple blue and white striped dress. it was something my mother had gifted me before she passed. she would tell me about how all of her best moments happened in that dress. she got proposed to in that dress, married in that dress, found out she was pregnant in that dress, and so on and so forth. granted, she only had so many dresses in her wardrobe, i think it was one of the only four outfits she owned. i was hoping that some of that luck would carry over. i stood on the platform, next to imena. there were two living male victors and two living female victors.

"ladies first." the capitol woman stuck her hand into the bowl containing our names. i could hear imena's breathing pick up. there were only two of us, i knew that the odds were not in my favor.

"the female tribute from district 10, aldera meadowwood." i felt bile well up in my throat. i slowly moved over to the woman, not even paying attention to who got picked for the male tribute. it didn't matter, did it? one or both of us would be dead in the coming weeks.

the train ride to the capitol was maddening. i was left with just my thoughts as the male tribute, who was in fact my useless counterpart, was spending his remaining moments with the love of his life, liquor.

i was able to win the games once, and it nearly destroyed me. i only survived my games through allies. i had partnered up with some solid tributes, not any careers though. we stuck together, but knew that as soon as the last person not in our little group was killed, it would be every man for himself. it never got to that point, though. each of us died one by one until it was just me and the district 5 boy. he was 18, a year older than me at the time. the two of us weren't friends per say, but we had both saved each others' lives, earning the other's respect. the two of us were tracking down the remaining tribute, the boy from district 1. while we were making our way to the cornucopia, the boy snuck up on us, impaling my partner. the district 1 tribute was reveling in his kill when i struck him with my knife, hitting him right in the chest. a couple more swipes at him out of pure fear for my life and the cannon sounded, signalling my win. i don't know if i could do it again, not with equally as skilled victors to go up against.

the capitol woman assigned to district 10 came in, recommending that i watch the other reapings. i came out to the common area and sat in front of the tv as she started the program.

district 1, cashmere and gloss. i didn't know much about them besides the fact that they were siblings.

district 2, brutus and enobaria. i had only heard rumors about what enobaria had done with her teeth, and they were confirmed when she gave the audience a sharky grin.

district 3, wiress and beetee. i knew from my time at the capitol that beetee was the creator of most of their technology. i remember finnick telling me once that him and wiress were absolute geniuses.

speaking of finnick, i held my breath when the recording got to district 4. i balled up my fists and had to force myself to watch the screen. please not finnick, please not finnick.

district 4, finnick and mags.

i thought i had already cried all of my tears, but apparently not, as more came flowing when i saw his face on the screen. why him? there were plenty of district 4 winners. it could have easily been any of them. i tried to tell myself that this was a good thing. i was guaranteed an ally, right? what finnick and i had, whatever it was, wasn't fragile enough to be broken by the games. but that also meant that i was almost guaranteed to watch him die, or have him watch me die. more bile welled up in my throat.

i missed the district 5 and 6 tributes while in the midst of my breakdown. district 7 had blight and johanna. i had the privilege of being introduced to johanna once before, while the usual female mentor from 7 was on some sort of medical leave. johanna was… quite the personality, in a bad way for the capitol, but an entertaining way for the rest of us. she wouldn't let you forget her hatred towards the capitol. i could only imagine the hell she was raising for being reaped.

"we're almost to the capitol." the lady informed me, going off to find the other victor. i vaguely heard him cussing her out, speech slightly slurred. glad to see that he was his usual chipper self in his last moments.

i tuned back in as they announced the district 12 tributes, peeta and katniss. of course, that was what this was about. they had unknowingly stirred the pot by trying to save their lives, and the capitol needed a way to get rid of them without causing a scene.

my stylist took a bit longer than usual to tidy me up. he said it was because i kept fidgeting, but who could blame me? i was anxious, not to mention itching to see finnick. i had been fighting off another breakdown since getting here, and i knew only finnick would be able to get me through it.

i found finnick talking to katniss, a slightly disgusted look on her face. i immediately made my way towards them, and as if he could sense me, he turned around right away, a mixture of emotions clouding his face. i ran to him, making the nearby peacekeepers jolt forward a bit. when i wrapped my arms tightly around his torso, him doing the same, they relaxed, deeming that this was not a dangerous situation. i buried my face into his shoulder, being slightly mindful to not smudge my makeup onto him.

"finn," i breathed out, overwhelmed by all the emotions attacking my heart. anxiety, anger, confusion, relief, worry, depression, and something else that i dared not speak. it all bombarded me.

"hey dera," he whispered.

"finnick, i don't know if i can-"

"shhh, darlin, it's going to be alright." i held onto him for a bit longer before composing myself.

"you're right. it's fine. we're going to be fine." i affirmed. a smile spread across his face.

"that's the spirit. sugar cube?" he offered, holding it out to me.

"how can you be so relaxed about all of this?" i laughed, taking the sugar cube anyways and popping it in my mouth. finnick's eyes lingered on where the sugar cube had been mere moments prior.

"i like your outfit, or should i say, lack thereof," i teased, poking his bare chest. his smirk widened.

"i can tell from the drool," he quipped back, motioning to my mouth.

"why are you looking at my mouth mr. odair?" i smirked, pulling him a bit closer to me by his necklace. he stared for a moment, opening his mouth to say something back before being interrupted by someone behind me. i turned around to see mags. finnick had told me all about her during our years mentoring together. she pointed at me with a smile, looking at finnick. he laughed, running a hand through his hair.

"yep, this is aldera. dera, this is mags." he quickly introduced. i shook her hand, smiling.

"he's told me so much about you, it's nice to finally meet you." i told her. she gave finnick another knowing smirk. i talked to her about the things finnick had told me about her, adding in some funny stories about finnick from my time mentoring with him. while i was telling a story about him eating the food off of a sponsor's plate in retaliation for them not sponsoring his tribute, i felt a stare on my face. i looked to my left to see finnick just looking at me, the softest smile playing with his lips, eyes slightly crinkled. the image burned itself into my memory, consuming my body with a fiery warmth in the best kind of way. i returned the smile before resuming my story.

i didn't get much farther in the tale before we were told that we had to get to our chariots. i held an arm out for mags, helping her get to her chariot. once she was in, i looked to finnick. he took my hands in his, not saying anything. a peacekeeper started to make his way over to us, so i let go, not wanting to get beat up right before showing myself to the capitol.

training began the next day. i spent my time relearning knife and sword tricks, as well as some refreshers on basic survival skills. i remembered a lot of them, as i preached them to my tributes each year, but a lot of these mentors were in the same boat as me. i had to stick out, or be able to do something unique. after all, the capitol just wanted a good show. it's all they ever want.

that night, finnick invited me to his room. i had never been in it, he would always come to mine. when we got inside, there was a group of victors lounging around. i grabbed onto finnick, looking up at him with confusion in my eyes.

"finnick, what's going on?" i whispered. he leaned down so his lips hovered next to my ear.

"trust me, okay darlin?" i nodded warily, following him to an empty couch.

"well then, now that the youngins are here, we can finally begin," haymitch said, somewhat sarcastically, taking a final swig of his whiskey. beetee, johanna, mags, and chaff all sat around haymitch, listening to his every word.

haymitch explained the plan, to keep katniss alive, to go to a safe place. haymitch told us how there were 'high ranking capitol people' in on the plan, but that didn't do much to soothe my worries about his scheme.

when he finished his explanation, all the others agreed, including finnick. they were to spread the word to anyone who would be willing to help us. i had my doubts about the plan, about haymitch's motives, and about his 'connections', but i trusted finnick. he's a smart man. if he was willing to die for this, then it was obviously a fight worth fighting.

the others made their way out of the room, apart from me, finnick, and mags. mags gave us a wave and a motherly smile before going off to her room, leaving me and finnick alone.

"are you sure about all of this?" i asked.

"what do you mean? do you not want things to change?" he asked, confused.

"of course i want things to change. i'm just worried about the uncertainty of it all. who are haymitch's 'connections'? can we trust them? can we trust the other tributes?" i voiced. finnick pulled me in and ran his hands up and down my back, trying to soothe me.

"i don't know darlin, but we have to at least try. they're the best chance we've got to take down the capitol. if we're gonna die either way, i'd much rather die trying to burn this shit show down than as their little plaything." he grinned, and a small smile grew on my face, his enthusiasm was infectious. he started to slowly rock us back and forth, my eyes closing a bit. i felt content, being in his arms. he brought a certain comfort to me that no one else could. there wasn't anyone else i would want to spend my last moments with.

"let's get you to bed, alright?" he whispered into my hair. i nodded, and he started moving me not towards the door, but towards his room. i didn't object, my heart warming ever so slightly. he got me a comfy shirt to put on and then got into the bed with me, his arms still around me. i laid my head on his chest a bit timidly, we were venturing into uncharted territory. we had never slept in the same bed together, never going past the comforting hugs to soothe each other's worries. our relationship, whatever it was, was weird, and we both knew it. we never spoke about it, mainly because we never felt a need to. we were there for each other, and that's what mattered.

the next day brought the interviews. my stylist dressed me in a low-cut, billowy white dress with a dark grey corset. it was much more simplistic than any of my other hunger games outfits. what sealed the deal was the necklace put on me. it was made of a brown cord and had a spiral shell dangling from it. i looked up at my stylist, who was looking at me with a smirk.

"how did you know-" i started, looking at what seemed to be a carbon copy of finnick's necklace.

"finnick suggested it. i had a beautiful blue and gold gown thought up for you, but i think i like this idea a lot better," he winked, putting the finishing touches on my hair and makeup. i was then ushered into a room to wait for my turn and watch the other interviews.

cashmere and gloss played into the brother-sister dynamic, spouting bullshit about how the capitol was their family. beetee plainly commented about how the quarter quell could be taken out of the law, how it wasn't too late to stop. when finnick went up there, in an outfit very similar to mine, i perked up.

"i understand that you have a message for somebody out there. a special somebody," caesar started, waiting on the edge of his seat. finnick chuckled, keeping his lips sealed.

"can we hear it?" caesar continued, anticipation buzzing from both him and the audience.

"my darlin, you have my heart for all eternity, and if… if i die in that arena, my last thought will be of your lips, which i have waited so patiently to kiss," he recited, looking straight at the camera. my body seemed to explode with emotions. i grasped at the necklace that sat low on my chest, holding it tight. finnick then took his necklace and kissed it, mouthing three words to the camera with a soft look that i had seen many times before.

after finnick was johanna, who had quite a lot to say, and quite a lot to be bleeped out. the tributes kept going, either voicing their 'love' for the capitol, hate for the capitol, or their sob stories to try and keep themselves alive.

"you're up," my stylist told me, pushing me towards the curtains.

"and next up, from district 10, the ever so lovely aldera meadowwood," caesar announced. i walked in, and caesar's face seemed to light up. he waited until i made my way up to him and shook his hand before he spoke.

"wow, i love the outfit. seems to remind me of another tribute's outfit tonight," he smiled out at the audience. gasps and swoons came out from the crowd. "now, i had heard rumors about you and a certain mentor being joined at the hip during the past few games, but this, this certainly seems to give some validity to what i've heard. any comments?" he asked, dying for details.

"let's just say i haven't exactly spent every night in the capitol alone for the past couple of games," i teased. finnick was the capitol's prince, their flirtatious little victor. i had to keep up his reputation. 'ooh's and 'aah's and whoops and hollers filled the room.

"wow, just wow," he commented, almost too stunned to speak. i turned around and looked up at the other tributes, finnick smirking down at me. i took my necklace and kissed it, just like finnick had. i then just held it, looking down at the ground.

"what seems to be the matter?" caesar asked. i sighed.

"i just wish it didn't have to end like this. we were supposed to live the rest of our lives in peace, and we were gonna spend all of those years together. but with the quell… it doesn't look like we'll be able to. if only we were able to love under different circumstances…" i trailed off, wiping the tears from my eyes. it wasn't necessarily a lie. i did truly wish that we were able to do all of this under different circumstances. was i playing it up a bit for the audience? yeah, who wouldn't? this was a matter of life or death.

"well would you look at that, folks, star-crossed lovers from different districts. it has been an absolute pleasure miss meadowwood, as always." the crowd gave their applause, and i made my way up to the rest of the victors, finnick smiling at me as i came up. the rest of the interviews went by, with katniss and peeta dropping the baby bomb. the crowd went feral at that, various audience members screaming for the games to be cancelled. when the two joined us at the top, we all linked hands and raised them up in solidarity.

the lights flickered off and we were all rushed out of the room. peacekeepers ushered us to our rooms, grabbing our arms harshly, not giving us a chance to move on our own.

"finnick!" i yelled, not being able to see.

"aldera!" i heard his voice call back, too far away to make it to.

the peacekeeper dragged me up to my apartment and pushed me into the room, slamming the door. i tried opening it but it seemed as though the peacekeeper was blocking me from doing so. i huffed and went over to the couch, laying down in exhaustion.

a fair amount of time had passed, and i hadn't moved. all of a sudden, there was a knock on my door. i went over and opened it, seeing finnick and a peacekeeper. he came inside and the peacekeeper yet again slammed the door. finnick rushed over to me and wrapped his arms tightly around me. both of us were still in our matching get ups from the interviews.

"how were you able to make them let you in?" i asked, still holding onto him tightly.

"let's just say that snow owed me a few favors," he mumbled into my shoulder. "you look beautiful, by the way."

"you too, my handsome little pirate," i laughed, him chuckling along with me.

"c'mon, we need to get some sleep. we won't be able to rest well in the games," i told him, squeezing his arm lightly. he nodded into my neck and swiftly picked me up, causing me to let out a surprised shriek.

"finn!" i laughed, him carrying me to the bed. he dropped me down onto the bed, him following closely behind. he then reached his hands around to my back, helping me remove the corset. he took his own off, leaving us in the flowy white clothing. i pulled the blanket up and over us, nestling my head into his chest. he left a kiss on my head, hand drawing circles on my arms.

"we're gonna make it out of these games, the both of us," he whispered.

i woke up the next day with the area next to me empty. i assumed finnick had to go to get ready for the games. i did the same, eating the last actual meal i would have in a long time, taking a nice long shower, and braiding my hair. i knew my stylist would do all of this again later, but it comforted me to think that i had some sort of independence in all of this.

before i knew it, i was on the platform, waiting to go up and into the arena. the lights blinded me once we got up, the sound of water swooshing around me. my eyes adjusted to see that the platforms were surrounded by water, with rocky formations leading up to the cornucopia. i kept haymitch's plan in mind. i looked to my left to see mags, and to my right to see peeta. perfect.

when the cannon boomed, i dove straight into the water, making my way to the rocks. i learned to swim a couple years back with finnick, when i had told him that district 10 didn't have any bodies of water to swim in. i got up to the rocks and saw mags, who held out a hand to me. i took it, hoisting myself up. we stayed back, i knew finnick would get me a nice knife or two from the cornucopia. i watched as he stabbed a tribute who was trying to kill katniss. no one else was near us, leaving me to watch to make sure nothing went wrong. mags started tapping me hysterically, and i looked to see her pointing at peeta, who was fighting in the water with another tribute.

"finnick!" i yelled. he turned around and saw the commotion, quickly grabbing a couple of knives, machetes, and survival packs before running over. he gave all the stuff to me before jumping into the water, going to save peeta. a cannon shot as finnick swam over, each of us holding our breaths to see who had survived. after a moment, peeta's head resurfaced, all of us letting out a breath of relief. finnick helped bring peeta to the shore, the rest of us following suit. we made our way through the jungle, trying to get far away from the other tributes. the heat was sweltering, causing the tensions to skyrocket. three cannons sounded throughout the arena.

"well, i guess we're not holding hands anymore," finnick chuckled. i sent a glare back at him, now was not the time.

"you think that's funny?" katniss asked, tone itching for a fight.

"every time that cannon goes off, it's music to my ears," he continued.

"finnick…" i warned. we all were here to protect katniss, but that would be a bit hard if she ended up slitting his throat before he could get a chance to prove himself to her.

he was able to somewhat gain her trust moments after, when peeta almost died on us from hitting a force field. katniss was screaming on the ground as finnick tried to bring him back. once he was breathing again, finnick got up, leaving he two to themselves. he came over to me and mags, watching the two lovebirds with us.

"i thought it was all an act," he whispered to me. i nodded, taking his hand in mine. he gave my hand a tight squeeze.

"it's gonna get dark soon," finnick informed us. we were all exhausted from the hours of walking without any food or water. "let's take turns sleeping. i can take first watch."

"not a chance," katniss argued. finnick rolled his eyes, and i had to prevent myself from sighing in annoyance.

"honey, that thing i did back there for peeta? that was called 'saving his life'. if i wanted to kill either of you, i would've done it by now." i put a hand on his arm, trying to calm his down. the heat and dehydration were getting to us all. finnick got up to make mags more comfortable. he came back and sat right next to me, leaning up against a tree and bringing my head down to rest on his arm.

"why don't you get some rest darlin?" he whispered to me.

"okay. don't kill each other," i joked, receiving a small chuckle from him.

i woke up to the sound of that dreaded anthem. we watched as the faces of the fallen tributes flashed in the night sky.

"eight."

the five of us sat there, taking it all in. we truly were back in this hellhole, the place that has plagued our nightmares. our thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a chime.

"hey…" katniss said, standing up and grabbing the capsule. she opened it quickly, reading the note. "'drink up'…" she pulled out a tiny silver trinket. she brought it up to a tree, mumbling something about a 'spile'. she stuck it in, and after a couple of moments, water flew out of it.

"holy shit," i mumbled, quickly getting up. katniss got the first few sips, laughing out in relief. peeta went, and then finnick, who lapped at the water like a madman. i nearly pushed him out of the way, the refreshing liquid filling my mouth. i laughed, letting the water hit my sweaty face.

"i'm gonna get a leaf," finnick said, grabbing one to get some water to mags. he filled up the leaf and brought it to her, helping her drink.

later on, we were jostled awake by katniss's screams.

"run! run! the fog is poison!"

we were on our feet immediately, finnick helping mags up. the five of us ran for our lives, the fog closing in on us from seemingly every direction. it nipped at our feet, staying at our heels no matter how fast we ran. i heard finnick scream behind me, and i stopped for a second.

"finnick?!" i yelled.

"keep going!" he panted, his face scrunched in agony. i followed his orders, picking up my speed again.

i didn't see what happened, but in the midst of the madness, katniss and peeta stopped, peeta groaning in pain.

"i can't carry him," she cried. i looked at finnick, i wasn't nearly strong enough to carry the boy. it would be a death sentence for the both of us. i watched as mags got off of finnick and started walking the other way. my heart dropped and eyes widened in horror.

"mags?" finnick called, slowly looking back. she gave him a sad smile before walking into the fog.

"mags! mags!" finnick sobbed, starting to follow her. i lurched forward at that, pulling him back.

a cannon fired.

"finnick, we have to go," katniss told him. "we have to get out of here."

"finnick, we have to go," i told him, his face streaked with tears. he nodded, picking up peeta and starting up again. the fog was too close now, licking at our feet, legs, and arms. i hissed in pain as i took a turn too wide, causing the fog to cover my shoulder. the fog seemed to be moving faster now. it had claimed one victim, and it was hungry for more. i felt a burning sensation in my calves, and not just from the strenuous running.

"fuck!" i screamed, falling down.

"aldera!"

the rest of them didn't make it much further, the fog soon blanketing all four of us. everything burned like nothing i had ever experienced before. i couldn't move, but i refused to die like this. i crawled forward, despite the scraping of my arms against the ground feeling like hot coals digging into my skin.

"the water! the water helps!" i heard someone yell. i forced myself to move forward, i will not die like this. i will not die.

the water burned my skin in the best possible way. it seemed to sizzle on my skin, clearing the burns and boils with every wave. i looked around to see peeta and katniss in the water, but not finnick.

"finnick!" i yelled, rushing back out of the water. peeta came up with me, helping me carry his nearly lifeless body to the water. he hissed and groaned and cussed at the feeling, but i couldn't let him die.

we were all eventually cleansed of the poison, an eerie silence settling over us. i went up to finnick and tried to put a hand on his shoulder, but he immediately shrugged it off.

"finn," i began to say. he tensed up, i knew he didn't like pity.

"no. not right now," he told me, his hands tightly gripping his trident.

"okay…" i trailed off, giving him some space. "i'm gonna go look for some food, none of us have ate in a while." i told the group. katniss and peeta were too busy whispering to each other, and finnick was staring off into the water with a blank look, so i took that as my cue to leave.

third person pov

not long after aldera left the group in search for food, katniss spotted something in the trees.

"peeta…" she whispered, "walk over here slowly." he looked up and came face to face with a not-so-friendly furry creature. he tried to step back slowly, but the monkeys didn't care, they started to scream and growl at him.

"aldera!" finnick screamed, looking around for her. she was nowhere in sight, causing him to panic. he couldn't lose both of his girls in one day. it would be too much.

"finnick, we have to go!" peeta shouted, swiping a monkey out of the way.

"i can't leave her!" he yelled, spearing a monkey with his trident.

"we don't have a choice, you're no good to her if you're dead. a cannon hasn't gone off, there's a good chance she's still alive," katniss reasoned through gritted teeth. she had a point, but finnick wasn't thinking rationally. his mind buzzed with thoughts of her, how he wouldn't be able to live if she died in the arena. peeta grabbed his arm and yanked him away from where they were standing. that seemed to get his feet in motion, the imminent danger of the situation finally dawning on him.

the three ran as fast as they could while still killing the beasts. they were getting real sick of all of this running.

"get to the beach!" one of them yelled, taking a harsh right. the other two followed, finnick swiping at a monkey that was going for peeta's arm. the chase felt like it was never ending, it seemed like the beach was districts away from them.

as a monkey battled with peeta, about to take peeta's life, another tribute jumped out, sacrificing her life for peeta. for a moment, he was too stunned to speak. was she trying to kill him and missed? was she being attacked and had to jump to escape a different creature?

"who is that?" katniss yelled. peeta looked at her, blood seeping from her body.

"a morphling. help me get her!" he yelled, picking up her body. katniss rushed over to help, carrying her other side. finnick was still fending off the monkeys a few paces behind. as soon as the group reached the beach, the monkeys stopped at the shoreline, still biting and growling at finnick. he taunted them from the beach, realizing they couldn't go any further.

peeta and katniss comforted the dying morphling, giving her a view of the artificial sky before the cannon boomed through the air.

moments later, another cannon went off, sending finnick into a panic.

"no, no, no no no no no," he mumbled, running towards the sound. instead of aldera's dead body, he found johanna, wiress, and beetee, all covered in blood.

"johanna?" he yelled, running up to her.

"we were all the way deep into the jungle where i thought it was gonna be safe. that's when the rain started. i thought it was water. it turned out to be blood. hot, thick blood. it was choking us. we were stumbling around, gagging on it, blind," she ranted, rage laced in both her words and gaze. "that's when blight hit the force field. he wasn't much, but he was from home."

guiltily, finnick breathed a sigh of relief. the cannon was for blight, not aldera.

finnick couldn't focus while they fought over wiress's incessant muttering or katniss's realization of the clock arena.

"have you seen aldera? we lost her when we were attacked by the monkeys," he blurted out. johanna let out a slight smirk.

"nope, haven't seen your lover girl since the games began." finnick's heart clenched, she was still alive, but in what condition? she could be bleeding out, the gamemakers prepping the cannons at this very second.

the conversation was interrupted by katniss's scream.

"prim?!" she cried, running back into the jungle. finnick immediately ran after her.

"katniss! katniss stop, it's not real!" he yelled after her. the girl was fast, and with their lack of food, he was lagging a bit behind.

then, he heard it. the sound he had been dreading to hear.

aldera's screams flooded his ears. he knew it wasn't real, it was just the jabberjays, but all rationality left his body. his heart lurched forward, his body following quickly after.

"dera!" he cried, racing after the sounds. his heart cracked with each pained scream. tears flew down his face, his body in physical pain from what he was hearing. he could vaguely hear katniss behind him, but it didn't matter. he needed to find aldera and save her from whatever was harming her. soon, the jabberjays started swooping down, causing the two to fall to the ground. the rest of the group found them, but they were separated by a force field. peeta went by katniss, yelling about how it wasn't real, but she couldn't hear him through the field.

a few moments later, aldera found the group, seeing finnick writhing on the floor in pain.

"finnick!" she screamed, but he couldn't hear her. she ran up to the force field, crouching down to his level and trying to calm him down. he looked up at her, tears streaming down his face. seeing her didn't help soothe him. he couldn't tell the difference between what was real and what was fake. he heard her cries of agony in his ears, and yet he saw her there, calm and in front of him, with his eyes. he grabbed at his head, feeling it split apart from the overstimulation of his senses.

aldera pov

i tried to stay calm for finnick, seeing him crumpled up on the ground. i whispered soothing words, despite him not being able to hear them. when the jabberjays flew away, i ran around the force field with peeta and johanna to grab them.

we all collapsed onto the sand as soon as we reached the beach. finnick and katniss were both still out of it, eyes glazed over and shaking. i kept finnick's head in my lap, running my hand through his hair as a way of comforting him.

"can we go to the water?" he whispered.

"yeah of course," i mumbled, helping him up and moving us so we could sit in the water. he leaned himself against me.

"i thought i lost you both," he told me, fresh tears brewing in his eyes.

"hey, hey, i'm right here," i whispered into his head. he grabbed my hand, holding onto it tightly.

"i knew she wouldn't make it, i just didn't think it would happen so soon," he continued. i didn't know what to tell him, we all knew that it would be hard to keep mags alive.

"i just wish it would end right here. you and me, in the water, with absolutely nothing happening," i whispered, the weight of all of the deaths crushing down on my shoulders. finnick turned rigid against me, moving away from me slightly.

"don't talk like that," he hissed. "i'm not losing you, not after mags, and not with the way i feel for you. i'm getting both of us out of here darlin." my whole body warmed at his words, and i found myself unable to say anything. i opted to squeeze his hand that was interlocked with mine.

after fighting with some tributes on the cornucopia, beetee came up with a plan. i passed around some of the berries i had found while searching for food earlier as beetee explained the plan. it was set into motion that night, the six of us setting off towards the lightening tree. beetee sent johanna and katniss to put the wire into the water, keeping finnick and peeta as his guards. as for me, i was to keep watch for the two women to make sure none of the other tributes would sneak up on them. the two didn't know this, though, as they had too strong of personalities to have someone else watch over their security.

"they should be far enough ahead by now," beetee told me, gesturing for me to go ahead. i looked over at finnick, his face unreadable and fists clenched. i went right up to him, getting close enough to grab his face and bring it to mine, pushing our lips together. he grabbed onto me immediately, pulling me impossibly close. i heard peeta give out a small cough before letting go of finnick.

"stay safe odair," i told him, forehead pressed to his.

"you too meadowwood." with that, i left after johanna and katniss, keeping my eyes peeled for any motion.

soon enough, i saw brutus and enobaria following the two. i couldn't find a way to take out either of them without alerting the other, and there was no way that i would be able to take on shark girl or her muscle man. luckily, it didn't take long for johanna to see them, quickly digging out katniss's tracker and 'leaving her for dead', leading the other two away. katniss got up and started heading back towards the tree, straight at me. i quickly hid, not wanting her to think something was up. i continued to follow her, watching as she confronted finnick. i held my breath as the two conversed, katniss ready to kill him. i had to hold myself back, katniss was the one who had to live, no matter what. somehow, finnick managed to calm her down, reminding her that he was not the enemy.

the lightening began to build up. i watched as katniss formed a plan in her mind, but was interrupted by a hand on my arm. i jumped, before realizing it was just johanna, her body a bit bloody and bruised, but still alive. she took her knife and grabbed my arm, not being the slightest bit gentle as she carved the tracker out of my skin. i refrained from letting out noises of my pain, it would distract katniss and ruin everything.

i felt the hairs on my arms stand up, and it seemed like johanna felt the same, for we both looked up at the sky.

"run," she quietly urged, sprinting away from the tree. i did the same, taking off in the other direction. i sprinted as fast as i could, but as soon as katniss's arrow struck the dome, i was blasted forward, my vision going black.

third person pov

"where the fuck is aldera!" finnick yelled at the three men in front of him. haymitch kept quiet, not wanting to be on the receiving end of the man's rage. plutarch, on the other hand, sighed, knowing that the man would raise hell until he got his answer.

"she wasn't the plan," he explained, finnick's fists clenching. "we looked for her, but we didn't have time to scour the whole arena." finnick got up.

"i wasn't part of the plan, and you saved me! she nearby, i know it, i saw her before katniss shot the damn arrow into the arena." the three older men kept quiet.

a small part of finnick knew that he was being irrational, but he didn't know how he was going to do it. aldera got him through everything. before aldera, he did the capitol's bidding without question. he would drug himself each night to forget about the transgressions made against his body, and then would collapse in his bed, waking up the next morning numb to his feelings. when he met aldera, he wanted more for himself. he wanted to stick it to the capitol, to give them a big 'fuck you' for everything they had done to not only him, but to everyone else. she was there for him, made those nights more bearable, gave him something to look forward to while in the capitol. without her, what would he do? become the empty shell he had been before? he couldn't, he couldn't live like that again, knowing there was something, someone out there that gave his life meaning. the tears came flooding down his face.

plutarch had said that since her tracker was taken out, they had no way of knowing where she was, but finnick knew what plutarch truly thought of the situation. she was probably in the capitol's grasp, just like enobaria, johanna, and peeta.

#finnick x oc #finnick odair #hunger games #catching fire #fanfic

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hellomynameisbisexual · 2 years ago

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Through the years, the term ‘bisexuality’ has undergone a series of redefinitions, and for many bisexuals it holds a deeply personal meaning that has taken years for them to work out. Terms like pansexual and omni-sexual are often included under the umbrella of bisexuality and certainly carry similar aspects. Bisexuality doesn’t have to be limited to being attracted to both men and women, bi advocate and author Robyn Ochs defines bisexuality as “the potential to be attracted — romantically and/or sexually — to people of more than one sex and/or gender,” and includes those who fall on different parts of the gender spectrum.

New terms like bisexuality+ and bi+ have popped up to include the attraction of sexual identities beyond the L and G, including those who are gender queer, fluid, or trans, as well as cisgendered male and females. Bisexuality, simply, is a much more open term for anyone who isn’t attracted to just one gender.

It is a common myth that bisexuals are the least stigmatised of the LGBT+ community. That to be bisexual you can simply date a straight person to camouflage into the heteronormative landscape and thereby escape a lot of the problems associated with being LGBT+. According to GLAAD, bisexuals have higher rates of anxiety, depression, and other mood disorders compared to gays, lesbians and heterosexuals. The Office for National Statistics has found that bisexual woman are twice as likely as their straight counterparts to experience domestic abuse from a partner. While bisexual men are disproportionally affected by HIV and STIs, according to a study from the American Journal of Preventative Medicine – many have blamed biphobia and the stigma against bisexual men, as many bisexual men are too ashamed to seek out proper healthcare.

Further studies have found that 37.3 percent of bisexual adults have reported experiencing depression, compared to 17.2 percent of heterosexual adults. While according to the Pew Research Center, Only 28% of bi or pan people ever feel safe enough to come out to their friends and family. Human Rights Campaign have found that bisexual people face "minority stress," and are more likely to engage in self-harming behaviours and attempted suicide than gay, lesbian, or heterosexual adults. This correlates with a study in the Journal of Adolescent Health, which has found that bisexual and questioning females are at a higher risk of depression or suicide than any other sexual denomination.

“Identifying as bisexual often feels like you're stuck in limbo — not “gay” enough for some, and not “straight” enough for others.”

Many have argued these problems are exasperated because bisexuality is often ignored by the media, academics, and society at large. This is the crux of ‘bi-erasure’, which is defined by GLAAD as “a pervasive problem in which the existence or legitimacy of bisexuality (either in general or in regard to an individual) is questioned or denied outright.”

“Identifying as bisexual often feels like you're stuck in limbo — not “gay” enough for some, and not “straight” enough for others,” writes Kyli Rodriguez-Cayro for Bustle. “While bi people make up 52 percent of the LGBTQ community, they are sometimes excluded from the narrative at Pride festivals and LGBTQ celebrations because of biphobia and bi erasure. Bi erasure is a serious problem that isn't just promoted by straight people, but on occasion, by the non-bi queer community as well.”

“Bisexuals cop biphobia from all sides, from our own community and from straights."

Elizabeth Sutherland writes for SBS about her struggles with occupying both straight and queer spaces and feeling ostracized by both. “There is a privilege in passing as straight, but there is a cost, too. The knowledge that you’re only being treated well, or equally, because part of your self is concealed is a difficult burden to carry… Bisexuals are seen as predatory, promiscuous, untrustworthy, adulterous and confused. We’re vilified as fence-sitters, or just plain greedy. In my line of work I’m in contact with young people all day. It’s easier to reassure colleagues and parents that I’m respectable when I’m seen as a lesbian in a steady relationship. But if I try to describe myself as bisexual—well, for starters, it sounds more sexual.”

Rebecca Dominguez, president of Bisexual Alliance Victoria, explains that “bisexuals cop biphobia from all sides, from our own community and from straights... the reason it’s easier to identify as lesbian than bisexual is that lesbians don't get any homophobia from within the LGBTI communities.”

Unfortunately, the bisexual community oftentimes isn’t united enough to combat these struggles as effectively as the gay and lesbian communities have. Lewis, 26, explains to the Huffington Post: “bisexuals are often invisible from each other. The UK has no mainstream bisexual magazines for us to discuss our issues in. We have no apps to connect us. We have no venues to meet others like us and make friends. I’m one of the most profiled bisexual men in the country yet sadly I’ve never been in a room with even 10 other bisexual men my age. It’s a lonely sexuality, I have no one to talk to that understands some of the unique bi issues I face.

“Another thing that isn’t talked about is the attacks on our straight partners. My girlfriend and I have been together for 18 months, in that time I’d say she has received more abuse than me. People don’t think twice about telling her that I’m going to cheat on her, that she’ll never be enough for me, that’s she’s going to catch HIV. These people have never met me yet they feel it’s fine to cast doubt in my girlfriend’s mind. They’d be perfectly happy for my girlfriend to dump me because of my sexuality and what’s worse is they’d feel the world was back in balance.”

Rob, 41, puts it succinctly enough for the Huffington Post: “Bi-erasure may seem like a small problem but it is thought that bi-invisibility is one of the reasons that, according to several reports, bisexuals have higher rates of depression, anxiety, self-harm and suicide than straight, gay and lesbian people.”

The problems bisexuals face are too dangerous to continue being ignored by the LGBT+ community. If you dismiss a bisexual person as simply going through a phase, not being truthful, after attention, or just being promiscuous then you are part of the problem. Bisexuals make up most of our community and their plight is the same as ours. Standing together and acknowledging the disproportionate mental health issues and discrimination they face, as well as the biphobia within our own community will only strengthen us. Besides, with more young people identifying as queer than ever before, bi-erasure might rapidly become a thing of the past.

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linneatanner · 8 months ago

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MJ Porter Royal Women Who Made England #NonFiction #TheTenthCentury #ForgottenWomen #WomenInHistory #BlogTour #TheCoffeePotBookClub @coloursofunison @cathiedunn

FEATURED AUTHOR: MJ PORTER I’m delighted to welcome MJ Porter again as the featured author in The Coffee Pot Book Club Blog Tour held March 19th – 21st, 2024. MJ Porter is the author of the non-fiction book, The Royal Women Who Made England: The Tenth Century in Saxon England, published by Pen and Sword on 30th January 2024 hardback UK / epub direct from publisher / 4th April 2024 US and kindle edition (237 pages) Below are highlights of The Royal Women Who Made England, MJ Porter’s author bio, and a snippet from the book. Tour Schedule Page: https://thecoffeepotbookclub.blogspot.com/2024/02/blog-tour-the-royal-women-who-made-england-by-mj-porter.html HIGHLIGHTS: THE ROYAL WOMEN WHO MADE ENGLAND The Royal Women Who Made England: The Tenth Century in Saxon England by MJ Porter Blurb: Throughout the tenth century, England, as it would be recognized today, formed. No longer many Saxon kingdoms, but rather, just England. Yet, this development masks much in the century in which the Viking raiders were seemingly driven from England’s shores by Alfred, his children and grandchildren, only to return during the reign of his great, great-grandson, the much-maligned Æthelred II. Not one but two kings would be murdered, others would die at a young age, and a child would be named king on four occasions. Two kings would never marry, and a third would be forcefully divorced from his wife. Yet, the development towards ‘England’ did not stop. At no point did it truly fracture back into its constituent parts. Who then ensured this stability? To whom did the witan turn when kings died, and children were raised to the kingship? The royal woman of the House of Wessex came into prominence during the century, perhaps the most well-known being Æthelflæd, daughter of King Alfred. Perhaps the most maligned being Ælfthryth (Elfrida), accused of murdering her stepson to clear the path to the kingdom for her son, Æthelred II, but there were many more women, rich and powerful in their own right, where their names and landholdings can be traced in the scant historical record. Using contemporary source material, The Royal Women Who Made England can be plucked from the obscurity that has seen their names and deeds lost, even within a generation of their own lives. Buy Links: Universal Buy Link: https://books2read.com/TheRoyalWomenWhoMadeEngland Publisher Link: https://www.pen-and-sword.co.uk/The-Royal-Women-Who-Made-England-Hardback/p/24395 AUTHOR BIO: MJ PORTER MJ Porter is the author of over fifty fiction titles set in Saxon England and the era before the tumultuous events of 1066. Raised in the shadow of a strange little building and told from a young age that it housed the long-dead bones of Saxon kings, it’s little wonder that the study of the era was undertaken at both undergraduate and graduate levels. The Royal Women of the Tenth Century is a first non-fiction title. It explores the ‘lost’ women of this period through the surviving contemporary source material. It stemmed from a frustration with how difficult it was to find a single volume dedicated to these ‘lost’ women and hopes to make it much easier for others to understand the prestige, wealth and influence of the women of the royal House of Wessex. Author Links: Website Blog Twitter Facebook LinkedIn Instagram Threads Bluesky Pinterest Book Bub Amazon Author Page Goodreads TikTok LinkTree SNIPPET: THE ROYAL WOMEN WHO MADE ENGLAND The royal women of the long tenth century is an opportunity to delve into what is known about these women and the time in which they lived and ensure that their story is told, as well as that of their slightly better-known male counterparts. It is also an opportunity to place them into this context of seeming stability and to assign them a part other than that of mothers and grandmothers to the next generation in the proceedings of this long and turbulent period, although, admittedly, it is as mothers and grandmothers that they seem to have truly discovered their abilities to govern. There is no surviving contemporary image of any of the royal women of the tenth century. These women are not only difficult to ‘find’ in the written sources, but they are also entirely faceless, apart from in the words of their contemporaries or near contemporaries. But, as far as is known, there are only images of King Athelstan that survive, in manuscript 183, folio IV Cambridge, Corpus Christi College, and also King Edgar, in London, British Library Cotton Vespasian A.viii, fol. 2v. And we seem to have only one physical item associated with these women: priestly vestments which may well have been stitched by Lady Ælfflæd’s hands (the second wife of Edward the Elder) and that survive in Durham as part of the collection of items linked with the tomb of St Cuthbert, the Northumbrian saint associated with Lindisfarne. Instagram Handle: @thecoffeepotbookclub Read the full article

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gracelight052 · 2 years ago

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Jewelry's Independent Women

This year marks Solange Azagury-Partridges 25th anniversary as a designer. Known for her colorful gems and playful, conceptual approach, the London jeweler celebrated the occasion with the Everything collection, which she describes as a little bit more of everything Ive ever done.From spinning diamond cogs and fantastical creatures to rings that tell a story in precious stones and colored enamel, Ms. Azagury-Partridges jewelry is not mere decoration but wearable art that provokes thought, and frequently a smile.The former Boucheron creative director is a veteran among a growing group of independent female designers who have turned their passion for jewelry into successful businesses, creating the heirlooms of tomorrow.Unlike their male counterparts who until recently dominated the independent market, these female jewelers have the advantage of understanding from personal experience what women want to wear.Lisa Hubbard, chairman of North and South America for Sothebys international jewelry division, says that their progress coincides with more female jewelry buyers than ever before. Given that more and more women today have independent means and are vying for jewelry for themselves, it makes sense that women would successfully design jewels that other women want to wear, she said.Ms. Azagury-Partridge, after being burnt in the past by investment partnerships gone awry, is determined to develop her business on her own terms. I want to get as small as I can, and I want to work in my own way. With independence comes freedom, she said.Aside from her exuberantly decorated Mayfair flagship store, which the designer and friend Tom Dixon describes as a magic kingdom, she has just two other stores now, one in New York and one in Paris. She has closed several other stores and is looking for alternative ways to expand, without the expense of new stores.In October, she released her second collaboration with Amazons British website. The e-commerce giant is offering an exclusive sterling silver and lacquered version of her signature Hotlips ring design for 69 pounds, or about $104. The original gold and enamel version, first designed in 2005, and which sells for more than $2,300, is one of the jewelers best sellers.The designer said the Amazon version, available in six colors, is selling well and may soon appear on Amazons American site. The seasonal changes demanded by online jewelry sales are at odds with the long lead time needed for her precious jewelry collection, so the rings sales are a way for me to do wholesaling and to make my jewelry available to a much wider audience, she said.Carolina Bucci is another jewelry designer experimenting with ways to expand her business. Fifteen years after starting her self-named 18-karat gold collection, the jeweler, who was raised in Italy and is based in London, is planning to introduce Caro, a silver jewelry brand, in the latter half of 2016.Catering to a younger, fashion-focused customer, it will have seasonal collections and is expected to sell for prices between $150 and $2,500. (Her fine jewelry ranges from $950 to $100,000).Caro, which uses Ms. Buccis nickname, will have the same spirit as her original brand but will be built on a different business model. I dont want more than four or five Carolina Bucci stores, as I want to retain that sense of exclusivity, but Caro is a brand I envisage having lots of different stores and retailers, she said.Wearability will remain the key issue, though. Born into a family of Florentine jewelers, Ms. Bucci says she was never allowed to wear costume jewelry growing up, and found that the fine jewelry she could wear was too traditional for her tastes. I wanted to make fine jewelry that was true to my family heritage, yet also fun and relevant to my own life, she said.For her, designing jewelry is a personal endeavor. Unlike the elaborate jewels she remembers her mother wearing when she was a child, her concept is to create easy but luxury pieces that can be worn all day, whether dealing with work, children or an evening out. Our lives are so different these days, she said.A turning point for the designer came when she opened her own store in the Belgravia area of London in 2007. Until that point Id never actually met my clients really, she said. The business definitely grew after opening the store.The store allowed her to display her entire range, and she became inspired by the women who came in and became loyal customers who are now evolving with me, she said.Irene Neuwirth agrees that opening her own store on Melrose Place in Los Angeles last year has been pivotal to her companys development. Our business has increased everywhere because of the store. Its an incredible branding tool, she said.Having been among Barney New Yorks top-selling jewelry designers since introducing her colorful, feminine collection in 2003, Ms. Neuwirth says it is her relationships with the store owners who sell her jewels, and with the female customers who collect them, that has fueled her success.Ive built my business by building amazing friendships, she said. I feel thats a very specific way women have of doing business, which, in the personal world of jewelry, gives them an advantage.Ms. Neuwirths clients frequently buy a piece after seeing the designer wearing it. Acting as a billboard for ones own jewelry is not something so easily achieved by a male designer, and Suzanne Syz believes that female designers also have the advantage of understanding what feels good.We know what fits. I wear my designs to see if theyre comfortable. Weve all had jewelry in the past that was too heavy, the Swiss designer said.Ms. Syzs colorful, one-of-a-kind haute jewelry is frequently inspired by art and marries fine craftsmanship with whimsy. Her tiny atelier in Geneva only produces around 25 pieces a year, and in New York last month, she announced her first watch.Called Her Ben, this limited-edition, bejeweled mystery watch was inspired by Big Ben in London, and took two years to complete. The watch has two faces, both realized in diamonds and a choice of rose or white gold or black titanium. Time literally stands still on the outside cover face, while the one inside is the real watch. The inscription opposite reminds the wearer: You may delay, but time will not.Ms. Syz says her select clients, primarily in Europe and the United States, many of whom are art collectors like herself, find traditional jewelry too staid and appreciate her mix of haute jewelry and tongue-in-cheek style.Cindy Chao also approaches jewelry as art, and the wonders of nature are her chief inspiration. She carves her miniature sculptures in wax, then has them realized in gold, titanium and precious stones at her workshops in Geneva, Paris and Lyon, France. She produces only 12 to 20 pieces a year.Her Black Label Masterpiece No. II Fish brooch took three years to complete. It is a large, glowing emerald representing the cheek of a puffer fish, and the surface is covered with more than 5,000 diamonds and sapphires. (Some pieces from the collection sell for $10 million.)The Taiwanese designer says her business now is roughly 65 percent in Asia, 20 percent in the Middle East and 15 percent in the United States and Europe. She opened a luxurious Hong Kong showroom this past spring, and is transferring her headquarters there from Taipei in an effort to establish herself in an international finance center with a more promising customer base.Despite the continued downturn in the Chinese economy, which has led many international luxury brands to close stores in the city, she believes serious jewelry collectors passing through Hong Kong are always looking for something unique. There is still great demand from the real collectors if they see investment value, she said.For Ms. Chao, the first Taiwanese jeweler to have her work become part of the permanent collection of the Smithsonian Institutions National Museum of Natural History, growing her business is important but should not come at the expense of creating the perfect jewel: Product is key. Scale doesnt matter.I sometimes ask myself: Is this a business? Is this art? Is it for myself? Ms. Chao said. I need to focus on making the best jewelry I can, on surprising people and making them see how jewelry can be art.THE DESIGNERSSOLANGE AZAGURY-PARTRIDGELondonSolange Azagury-Partridge was working at a 20th century antique dealer in London when, disappointed by the engagement ring choices available, she designed her own. The resulting ring was so admired by friends and acquaintances that she introduced her own brand in 1990. In 2002 she was selected by Tom Ford to become creative director at Boucheron in Paris, an experience she describes as like attending the Oxbridge of jewelry design. Known for her jewelrys combination of color, sensuality and wit, she is in discussions with a London museum to curate a 2017 exhibition that will raise jewelrys profile as a serious art form.CAROLINA BUCCILondonIn 1885, Carolina Buccis great-grandfather opened a store repairing pocket watches in Florence. The family business evolved to become a manufacturer of fine gold jewelry, and now its workshops produce all of Ms. Buccis collections. Mixing traditional techniques with modern designs such as her signature woven-gold and silk thread friendship bracelets, the designer spends her time in London, Italy and New York, where her mother was born and where she started her business. With celebrity clients such as Victoria Beckham and Gwyneth Paltrow, she has developed an international following for luxurious jewels that are distinctive yet easy to layer with other pieces.CINDY CHAOHong KongCindy Chao grew up in Taiwan surrounded by creativity, the daughter of a sculptor and granddaughter of a famous architect. She launched Cindy Chao The Art Jewel in 2004 and has always approached her jewelry as miniature 3-D sculptures with minuscule detailing and a sense of light and balance. With a less-is-more philosophy of production, she only creates one of her signature butterflies every year and they have quickly become collectors items. The Ballerina Butterfly brooch, designed with Sarah Jessica Parker, was sold at Sothebys in October 2014 for $1.2 million, with $300,000 of the proceeds benefiting the New York City Ballet.IRENE NEUWIRTHLos AngelesIrene Neuwirths bold, luxurious statement pieces in a rainbow of gems including opal, turquoise and tourmaline are a red carpet favorite, worn by the likes of Reese Witherspoon, Naomi Watts and Lena Dunham. Known for the interior design of her home in the Venice section and her store at Melrose Place in Los Angeles, she has been approached to become a lifestyle brand but is determined to focus on jewelry. I want to be a household name, and to have my jewelry passed down from generation to generation, said Ms. Neuwirth, who won the 2014 CFDA Swarovski Award for Accessory Design. As her boyfriend, the Lego Movie director Phil Lord, decamping to London in 2016 for his next project, Ms. Neuwirth said she is looking forward to an opportunity to grow her international profile.SUZANNE SYZGenevaSuzanne Syz started creating her own pieces after finding traditional haute jewelry too outdated for her tastes. An avid modern art collector, her work was influenced by her friends Andy Warhol and Jean Michel Basquiat, whom she met while living in New York in the 1980s. Now based in Geneva, her perfectionist approach to her creations meant it took five years to complete her first collection and she continues to produce a very limited number of pieces. Her latest creation and first watch, Her Ben, took two years to complete and, unusually for a jewelry watch (they are normally quartz-powered), it has a mechanical movement from by Vaucher, one of haute horlogeries finest manufacturers.

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