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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year

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Running from the Flames {1}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Summary: Brianna Vowles grew up on the paddock. It was what filled every weekend. There were endless trips around the globe with her father and Uncle Otmar in Formula One, until she went to college. Suddenly her life revolved around studying and boys, one of whom wasn't as nice as he had appeared. Five long years later, with a hiatus in between, she graduated with her engineering degree and had decided to use her VIP pass to see if life in the fast lane had changed. Warnings: 18+ only, domestic violence survivor, lots of drama and fluff, this is a work of fiction and the events are not based on reality. Chapter: One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || under construction

The air was thick with the fumes of high octane fuel and the smoke from burnt rubber tyres. The high keening of the engines reached deafening levels as the race cars left the pits and took to the track. Flags of all colours waved from the stands in support of the drivers from a dozen nations.

It was an absolute assault on the senses.

I couldn’t believe it had been five years since I last submerged myself in the chaotic atmosphere, but there had been more important things to worry about and I had been to the off-track events now and again to keep in touch.

Fresh off from graduating with my degree, I was ready to take some time out and have a bit of fun before starting my next adventure. Though the job I had lined up wouldn’t wait forever, they had given me the summer to enjoy. And enjoy it I would, I deserved it.

These weekends used to be what I lived for. Uncle Otmar would set me up with my own chair and headset along the pit wall of his team while my dad worked behind the scenes in the FIA. The team was my family and the paddock was a home away from home.

Sometimes I regretted leaving and going to college but I had been envious of the other young adults having a normal life. Then I realised that no matter how hard those years had been I was given the greatest gift that I wouldn’t change for the world, she was worth the pain and suffering I endured.

I grinned at my daughter perched on my hip but she was too absorbed in the action around us to see. The tiny pair of earmuffs looked huge on her but the roar of the engines was too loud to go without the safety gear and I couldn’t wait to reach the pits and get my own set.

“Bri!” Kelly called out as I was passing the door to Red Bull and I barely had time to greet her before she was pulling Adelaide from my arms. “Look how big you are getting, belíssimo,” she cooed as Addie clapped excitedly. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“To be honest, I hadn’t really planned on it,” I answered as I gave her a kiss on the cheek and hugged her daughter Penelope. “Coming back though, I really missed this.”

“Good, then you’ll keep coming and I can get my smooches from this gorgeous wee girl. Yes, you’ll be a Red Bull girl won’t you?”

“Otmar won’t get you any Christmas presents if he hears that.” Adelaide has no idea what either of us were talking about but at two years old she was just happy to get all the attention. “Speaking of, I should hurry up and find where he is.”

“I can look after Addie,” Kelly offered, unwilling to hand her back just yet. “Then you can catch up without a distraction.”

“Are you sure?” I asked hesitantly, not wanting to be a burden.

“Can she play with my dolls, please?” Penelope begged and Kelly nodded with a smile that eased my concern.

I tucked a long strand of hair behind Penelope’s ear and said, “Of course she can.”

My steps away were slow and I looked back twice after saying goodbye to Addie but, aside from a short wave, her attention was on Penelope and the Barbie doll she was offering. If anything changed Kelly had my number and she would be able to find Alpine’s pit stop easy enough.

“Brianna, there you are.” Otmar’s voice was barely audible over the noise in the pit lane but I found his hand waving from where he sat at the Control Centre along the pit wall.

It had only been a few weeks since I last saw my uncle, though it was a loose term when we were not related by blood. Otmar was my father’s best friend and a constant in my life until I left for college. The two had grown up together, practically like brothers, and I had been raised with Otmar’s kids - homeschooled on the road during race season.

When I reached him, Otmar spared a quick second to give me a hug before handing me a headset with a welcoming smile. “Where’s little Addie?”

“With Kelly. It’s a cleverly disguised strategy to distract Red Bull from the race.”

Otmar laughed heartily and shook his head at the fib but he also knew if Addie was around him while he was trying to watch the qualifiers she would definitely distract him so maybe it was a smart move.

“How are we looking?” Otmar asked as I glanced over the readings on the screen in front of him and listened to the drivers give commentary on the drive.

“Looks promising,” I said with a pat on his shoulder, proud of the work he had done with the team since joining them, “but you know how Monaco is.”

“It’s all about the starting position,” he finished with a serious nod before giving all his attention to the lap times.

Otmar had always been a man of few words when I was younger, but when he spoke it was always well thought out and meaningful. That did not apply when he was in his seat at the pit wall. Curses tumbled from his mouth with each lap and I realised how sheltered he and my father had kept me from this side of the sport. Hearing each swear word just made me smile wider.

The heat of Monaco was beginning to get to me when Otmar’s Alpine drivers finally made it through qualifying without any major incidents and respectable starting places of 5th and 9th in the grid for race day. If they could hold those positions and get points then the team would be in a good place for the Constructors Championship.

“Come, come,” Otmar said as he took off his headset and tossed it on his chair. “When was the last time you came to a race?”

I pursed my lips as I thought back through the years. “You were still with Force India, maybe 5 years ago?”

“Ah, so you won’t have met my drivers.” He grinned as he led the way into the workshop and through to the cooldown rooms that lay beyond, accepting handshakes and congratulations along the way. “5th place, well done, good spirit out there,” he bolstered excitedly as he reached a man still kitted out in his riding suit and clapped him on the back. The man turned around and I saw the embroidered name Pierre on his suit but I had seen his pictures like the other drivers on posters around the paddock.

Pierre grinned at his boss and shook his hand before the pair of stunning green eyes turned to me with a hint of confusion. All of the other people in the workshop were wearing Alpine uniforms or jumpsuits like the pit crew but I stood out in a floral day dress better suited for the warm weather on the Mediterranean coastline.

“Pierre, this is my niece, Brianna, she will be with us for the weekend,” Otmar introduced. “So give her a good show.”

Pierre blinked a little stunned at the news but nodded and held his hand out with a polite, “It’s nice to meet you. I didn’t know he had a niece.”

His French accent rolled beautifully off his tongue and his palm was hot in my hand from the gloves he had worn on the track as I shook it. “He doesn’t,” I corrected with a smile. “He grew up with my dad and spent so long at my Nan’s house she pretty much adopted him as her own.”

He smiled at the statement before wincing and rubbing his jawline. Concern washed over me as he looked pained and I stepped closer out of reflex, my motherly instincts kicking in. “Are you alright?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine,” he dismissed with a blatant lie before repeating it to Otmar.

“If you’re sure,” Otmar double checked with a pointed look. “Okay, go see Kim for your warm down then meet us in the den for debriefing. Bri, come meet Esteban.”

I waved to Pierre as I was led away to the other driver in a matching jumpsuit but his had been half opened and was tied loosely around his waist. This driver was far more reserved as Otmar introduced me and I could see he was too wrapped up in replaying the laps in his head to converse properly but his lower starting place compared to his teammate was weighing heavily on him.

Seeing the lacklustre effort the young man was putting in, Otmar sighed and clapped him on the back before giving him the same instructions as Pierre and sending him on his way. Once he was out of ear shot, Otmar leaned in closer and murmured, “We are working on rebuilding his confidence but I have high hopes for him this season.”

“He’s still on track for points, if he can just get out of his own head I think he’ll make you proud.” Otmar clapped his hands to get the attention of the others scattered around the room and called them into the den which was just a large room full of chairs where the engineers and pit crew could discuss where improvements could be made before tomorrow's race. “Just a little more of your time today folks, then we can go and rest before the team dinner tonight.”

A lot of the teams went their separate ways after leaving the pits, going back to their private motorhomes or hotels and getting an early night but Otmar believed that a team was a family and that extended to mealtime being a shared event. It was an odd belief to hold in such a competitive sport but it made me respect him all the more for trying to build trust and loyalty into the team instead of just the will to win.

“May I sit here?” Pierre asked politely as he appeared in a skintight shirt and jeans, his hair still damp from the quick shower he took.

I gestured to the empty seat, though there were plenty of other ones around the room including one on the other side of Otmar. “Be my guest.”

All through the debrief I couldn’t help but notice Pierre shifting beside me, constantly rubbing at the stubble that shadowed his jaw and wincing. I couldn’t concentrate on the information that was being shared knowing he was in pain and everyone else failed to see it.

Finally when the room began to empty I placed a hand on his arm before he could follow and leant closer since he obviously didn’t want anyone to know. “You should talk to the medic,” I whispered into his ear.

“I told you, I’m fine,” he assured me as he turned to face me, the citrus scent of his body wash filling my lungs.

“Fine, if you won’t talk to them then talk to me.” I gave him the same look I give my daughter when she has been caught red handed and he looked away as it worked its magic.

“My, er, the big teeth at the back?”

“Wisdom?” I offered, with a grimace as I remembered the pain of having them removed.

“Yeah, wisdom teeth, they are coming through. Guess I am finally getting wise.”

“Better late than never,” I teased as I opened my handbag and rifled through the pockets before triumphantly pulling out a small blue tube. “Here, try this.”

“Bonjela?” he read before flipping it over and seeing it was for teething babies and cocking his eyebrow at me.

“It works for adults too, just rub some on your gums and it will numb them for a while. It’s a miracle worker, trust me. I have a-” I was cut off by a familiar voice calling out for me and turned to see Kelly weaving through the Alpine crew with her Red Bull hat standing out.

“Mama!” Addie broke away from Kelly and rushed forward.

“Sorry,” Kelly apologised. “She was missing you.”

“It’s alright,” I said with a smile as I bent down to catch Addie’s flailing arms. “Addie, say thank you to Ti-Ti for looking after you.”

Adelaide turned to Kelly and thanked her the best she could for a two year old and waved to Penelope before they headed back to the Red Bill garage where Max was waiting.

“Who is this little princess?” Pierre asked as he knelt down beside me to Addie’s height.

“This is my daughter, Adelaide. Addie, this is mummy’s new friend, Pierre.”

“Hi Pear,” she copied and he laughed at the attempt before looking around like he was expecting someone else. It wasn’t uncommon.

“He’s not in the picture,” I said quietly while Adelaide told a convoluted story about the Barbie doll and Penelope. Pierre’s encouraging smile for Adelaide to continue her story wavered when he looked across at me with his eyebrows pinched. “It’s a long story and not a pretty one.”

He sighed with understanding and placed a light hand on my knee. “You can talk to me if you ever need,” he offered before waving the blue tube in his hand. “I owe you.”

The heat of his hand was like fire on my skin and I let it fall from my knee as I stood up and stepped back. A fog had filled my head and I couldn’t think of a single thing to say as I stood staring at him. It wasn’t like I hadn’t tried dating since Adelaide was born but I could never get past the point of physical touch. Not after Erik. He had tainted me.

I would have been frozen in that state all afternoon if Otmar hadn’t come to see Addie. His arrival shocked me out of the moment and released the breath I had been holding, trying to slow the rapid beating in my chest.

“Sorry,” I muttered when I finally dared a glance at Pierre who chewed on his bottom lip, those striking green eyes full of concern. I had to break away from them and regain my composure so I turned to Otmar instead. “I’m gonna go take Addie to the hotel for a nap, but I’ll come find you later for dinner.”

Otmar pouted playfully as he handed Addie over from the cuddle they were having and said he would send a car to pick us up at 5pm. I gave him a kiss on the cheek and struggled to say goodbye to Pierre without my cheeks catching fire while I relived the embarrassing moment over in my head.

“Bye Otty,” Addie called out over my shoulder. “Bye Pear!”

Pierre’s reply was instant and I almost stumbled as he spoke in his native tongue, “Au revoir, princesse.”

Click here for chapter two.

#pierre gasly x oc #pierre gasly fanfic #formula one fanfiction #f1 fanfic #poc oc #pierre gasly x poc!oc #running from the flames

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earlgreytea68 · 1 month

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hi egt

what fob songs scream hiatus to you?

i need to experience emotional ruin real quick

God, there are so many, like, basically allll of Save Rock and Roll feels like them working through the hiatus together (not least because of how it has a higher percentage of Patrick lyrics than usual, probably because of him coming off his solo work). But the hiatus loomed so large for them as this nuclear blast in their relationship, it seems to bleed all through Pete's words (and hence their songs) for years afterward.

And it actually even starts before the hiatus, with the "What a Catch, Donnie" music video, which is the most hiatus-y thing to ever hiatus, Pete going down with his ship while he sends everyone else away to party without him. IT'S ALL SO SYMBOLIC.

And then to title a song on the first Believers Never Die album "From Now On, We Are Enemies." WHAT THE HELL hahahahaha WHAT A CHOICE, PETE WENTZ. (a downward spiral, just a pirouette and I only what what I can't have -- wanting what you can't have is a total hiatus theme for me that shows up a bunch in Pete's lyrics. I have not done an empirical analysis to see if it's a more prevalent theme after the hiatus or not.)

"The Phoenix" has obvious symbolism for their life as a band, raising their career from the ashes, changing themselves up like a remix, wearing their vintage of misery better than everyone else. Also, I love the imagery it has of peace, the "release the doves, surrender love" bit. Waving the white flag and putting down your weapons (in contrast to put on your war paint). But I've always kind of felt like surrender love is one of Pete's deliberate ambiguities: It could be "surrender your love" but it could also be "surrender, love." And Pete doesn't often use "love" as a term of endearment in his lyrics but he called Patrick "love" on stage not too long ago, so, you know, it seems not too outside the realm of possibility to think that these are really lines about reconciliation. It feels like time is running out, so let's surrender and hold tight.

Then there's "Alone Together": I'm outside the door, invite me in so we can go back and play pretend. The image of playing pretend / make-believe with someone also recurs in Pete's poetry, and it's something else I always read as Patrick-coded. Who did he used to "pretend" with for the sake of the shippers? And, of course, starting at the end of the road to ruin sounds like people who have burned everything down but are finding their way back.

I wrote a whole fic about "Where Did the Party Go" :-)

What is there to say about "Miss Missing You" that hasn't already been said? The infamous "hot whiskey eyes" line that honestly can only be about Pete Wentz lol. The imagery of the person you'd take a bullet for being behind the trigger: they have both at separate points in time proclaimed their readiness to take a bullet for the other. The fact that Pete wrote in a poem once before the hiatus I miss you missing me, and this song is I miss missing you. Like, everyone just die over this song.

To me "The Kids Aren't Alright" is a hiatus song in that it's about surviving the hiatus, coming through it, reversing the curse, it's our time now if you want it to be, in the end, I'd do it all again, I think you're my best friend.

"Fourth of July" is another hiatus song for me, the reference to the burned bridges being the light that leads you home is just so hiatus-y. Also, the torture of small talk with someone you used to love just smacks of the hiatus, of how they stopped talking to each other, of how they knew so little about each other and had to start over. This is more wanting what you can't have, too: my favorite what-if, my best I'll-never-know. I said I'd never miss you. I wish I'd known how much you loved me. It's so much, this song lol

Twin Skeleton's: ouch. This song is so painful. This song scrapes over your skin like sandpaper. This song is so angry and bitter. This song is I need a new partner in crime and you shrug. oh my GOD that line kills me every single time. That one and the way Patrick snarls, I could just die laughing on your spiral of shame. This is an angry song, but the anger is born of a depth of emotion and it ends with Patrick promising hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on over and over, and that's what makes it extra-hiatus to me, like, hold on, it all gets better, I'm coming back, hold on, hold on, hold on...

I find the hiatus infects their songs less and less the farther they get away from it, which is good. It's healing. As we've discussed, they've almost forgotten the whole thing even happened, it's been blurred over by the sands of time.

#fall out boy #fob #peterick

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allwaswell16 · 8 months

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All the One Direction fics I read and enjoyed in October 2023. You can listen to my podcast to hear me talk about each of these fics as well as an overview of what was posted on ao3 including the fics on this month’s fic roundup which you can find here! Please let the writers know if you liked the fics by leaving kudos and comments! Happy reading!

Fanfictional Podcast #55 | ko-fi | fic recs

—Louis/Harry—

🎃 your memory over me by @shimmeringevil

(E, 64k, exes) The worst heartbreak of Louis’ life walks right back into it when his parents invite their family friends on an all-expenses-paid trip for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Facing a past that he tried to bury long ago, Louis learns that some people have a way of sticking with you even when they’re gone

🎃 saw some things on the other side by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

(M, 61k, murder mystery) Unfortunately, Louis’ plan doesn’t take into account the fact that instead of writing murder mysteries, he will find himself in one.

🎃 Fight For Us by @fallinglikethis

(E, 11k, a/b/o) one dark night, long after all of the other omegas in the pen have fallen asleep, biology comes calling for Louis.

🎃 Rainy Days and Leaves by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose

(E, 9k, uni) Louis works at a coffee shop and spells Harry's name wrong on his cups.

🎃 could start a cult by @nouies

(E, 8k, FBI agents) Harry can’t get enough of Louis’ breast milk.

🎃 Peaky Blinders Louis (series) by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird

(E, 8k, historical) Three years ago, Louis ran with the Peaky Blinders. He thought he left that life behind, but his past might finally be catching up with him.

🎃 Let Me Taste Your Silhouette by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28

(E, 4k, pwp) the one where Harry accidentally posts a picture to his main Instagram story instead of only to his close friends, and he just happens to be wearing a 28 Official Programme shirt. Louis happens to notice

🎃 Toil and Trouble by stretchmybones / @harryslonecurl

(E, 3k, sirens) Harry and Louis are sirens who suck the souls out of humans in order to make potions

🎃 David S Pumpkins by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(NR, 3k, supernatural elements) Louis has a Halloween party to go to, and the perfect outfit to wear. It's a little odd that people in weird clothes keep appearing and disappearing. Skeleton outfits? A three piece suit covered in pumpkins? Mysterious.

🎃 like a dream but i wasn't asleep by @alwaysxlarrie

(G, 2k, strangers to lovers) It's cold outside and Harry just wants to get into his hotel room and go to bed. It should be a simple task, but it’s made more challenging by his complicated relationship with gravity, a booking mixup, and a really hot guy.

🎃 Touch the Sky and Kiss the Sun by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(T, 2k, soulmates) Louis Tomlinson knows without a shadow of a doubt that Harry Styles is his soulmate. Harry Styles, Louis is virtually certain, is completely unawares of this fact.

🎃 Don't Forge Me by larry_hiatus / @larry-hiatus

(G, 2k, established relationship) Harry knows he won’t see Louis again for a while, but when he reads the confusing note tucked amongst the melons and pineapple flowers, Harry wonders if he’ll ever see Louis again…

🎃 Trackies by Larry_you_know / @larryyouknow

(E, 2k, established relationship) Louis and Harry are having another anniversary. For Harry, Louis' hints to what he would like to be gifted are very confusing. OR The one where trackies*com isn't the place where you buy tracksuits.

🎃 Run To You by @neondiamond

(G, 2k, established relationship) Harry injures himself while out on a morning run. Louis comes to his rescue.

🎃 You of course, Always you. by bunnyhusbands / @louisgayvodka

(G, 1k, friends to lovers) “Tell me what?” “That I'm in love with you”

🎃 Dearest Gemma (I fell in love) by Thingssicant / @slowlyseducedbycurls

(G, 1k, epistolary) Harry writes letters to his sister while he impatiently waits for his lover to propose

—Rare Pairs—

🎃 Bloom by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

(T, 28k, Louis/Liam) In early 1970s Oxford, Detective Sergeant Louis Tomlinson has to deal with the dual pressures of a case that hits too close to home, and the arrival of new colleague Liam Payne.

🎃 Cold Spring by @nouies

(E, 8k, Louis/Pedro Pascal) Louis is a coffee shop owner and Pedro is his newest customer.

🎃 two languages, one love by @nouies

(NR, 3k, Louis/Cillian Murphy) The three times Louis speaks to Cillian in Spanish, and the one time he finally gets a response.

🎃 Amenable by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

(E, 3k, Zayn/Louis) Zayn guides Louis through a marathon day of fucking, exploring Louis' submissive side through a series of varied constraints.

#28th appreciation #1dficvillage #trackinghappily #ficsfor4am #trackinghome #1dsource #tracksintheam #hlcreators #ficrec

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gyusbambi · 8 months

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my gyu recs >:)

@delcakoo's chapstick challenge (🤍)

in which bf!beomgyu and his s/o are doing a common challenge where one tries to guess the flavor of lipbalm the other is wearing through a short kiss

@gyuletters's vanilla kiss (🤍)

you and beomgyu decide to participate in a candy sale. but the only thing beomgyu wants now, it’s you.

@it-rains-blue's losing you pt.1 (🤍)

in which beomgyu's jealousy burns at seeing yn grow closer to his members, resulting in one thought: he was losing you.

part one is pure angst, but if you like hurt/comfort, part two is a fluff filled resolution

@akuvrus's midnight comfort (🤍)

when beomgyu calls you in the middle of the night to go eat out in a nearby convenience store together after he had a rough night and is in need of comfort.

aku's page has a lot of fluffy and comfort fics of mine, so i reccomend binging their works (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

@loveliestfelix's run pt.1 (🤍)

in which beomgyu's careless action led him to realizing two things: he was in love with his best friend, and he had just lost them, too.

i love this fic with my whole heart-- especially part two! the feelings were portrayed beautifully

my favorite smaus :D

@enluv's press play (🤍)

After a year long hiatus the once top streamer, L/N Y/N, is back and ready to take her place as #1 again, but she’s met with an astonishing find, newcomer Choi Beomgyu has taken her spot and isn’t going to give it up so easily.

@suwbuns's e-daters! (🤍)

moving back to korea from america, y/n is excited to reunite with her old friends and make new ones. what she doesnt expect is to find herself reuniting with her “ex-boyfriend” from 10 years ago who she dated over minecraft. what makes things worse? he happens to be her favorite streamer who she has been pinning after for years.

this smau sadly happens to be on an indefinite hiatus, but what is posted had me hooked ^^

@gyumibear's create a sim(p)l (💕)

after stupidly claiming on stream that you’ve been dating popular youtuber choi beomgyu in secret after accidentally creating an identically looking sim, you beg him not to reveal your lie to the public when it goes viral. weirdly, he agrees and you two begin to fool the public. can your lie become the truth or will it eventually catch up with you?

i can't hide my favoritism.. while e-daters was a fic and one of the only reasons i kept coming onto tumblr early 2023, cas had me CONSPIRING. i was going on literal rants and spirals every chapter 😓

@junoswrlld's plus one (🤍)

kai, one of your closest friends, invites you as a plus one to one of his best friends birthday party. but the bday boy is kinda cute…can you steal his heart?

one of my top favorite crack fics to come back to ^^ i always find myself reading plus one to hate on rami or fangirl. it's still in progress but the updates are vv frequent!

this is getting long but i'm not done yet so i'll send in another ask :D

posting this for you guys too instead of gatekeeping😋

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bts-siwan · 3 months

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www.jiwancutemoments.com

intro : hello losers i’m back after a year long hiatus 💀 i’ve been catching up on content recently and have been bombarded with so many jiwan moments that i finally decided it was time to make this compilation

intro : jiwan are literally my roman empire so without further ado let’s get into the video!

clip one : run bts ep.71 (behind)

“should i eat one?” *jm eyeing the pork belly + looking back at the other members who are busy with something else*

*heavy contemplation* “no i need to maintain my diet” *really wants to eat it tho*

*cue siwan entering to save the day* “everything okay?” *always the heavily concerned hyung as he takes a seat next to jm* *now cue jm pretending to be fine*

*mindreader sw knows what’s up* “you want to eat the pork belly?” *he can see the way jm’s mouth is frothing tbh* “why don’t you just eat it then?”

*jm shaking his head* “i have to maintain my diet” *sw literally spacing out for a moment before turning to the cameraman*

“i think camera-nim disagrees. isn’t this samgyeop-sal so delicious?” *picking up some with chopsticks* “camera-nim and i will keep it a secret. you can have one”

*proceeds to feed him like half the plate*

commentary : ladies get yourself a man who dotes on you like siwan does jimin because ain’t no way he’s looking at anyone else like he is this man

clip two : run bts ep.12

*literally in the midst of filming the police skit* *jm is being interrogated by officer sw*

“you don’t know what you’re in for? are you trying to play a joke on me?” *actor sw has been on a role so far but jm is ready to pull out the big guns*

*pushing down sw’s laptop screen to see him better* “ah, officer~ but is it really my fault? i don’t know why i’m here” *pouting + seduction charm*

*sw is big gulping rn* *they so caught it on camera + sw’s pursed lips trying to stay in character* “y-your charms don’t work on me” *avoiding eye contact to the max* “look into the camera with those eyes”

*jm giggling bc he can see he’s affecting sw but follows his instructions anyway* “like this?” *posing at the camera cutely + sw making the slightest eye contact and immediately melting from within*

*sw’s junior officer tae puts a hand on his shoulder* “should i take it from here? you seem like you need some rest, hyung-nim” *calling him out but trying to save him at the same time*

*sw leaves as jm blows him one last kiss + a flirty wave*

commentary : your honour he malfunctioned in 4K LMAO but honestly who can blame him 😭

clip three : jimin’s injury

commentary : so for context jimin needed a temporary arm sling due to sustaining an injury during practice. some of the members were eating in another room

*staff letting the few members present know about jimin’s injury* *cue sw’s face immediately changing from laidback to sitting upright*

“is he all right? is jimin okay?” *hobi also concerned as jm walks into the room* *sw struggling to conceal his emotions*

“can you not move it at all? does it hurt a lot?” *jm is explaining the situation but sw still feels anxious and worried*

“jimin-ah, come sit here” *sw already making space + standing up to help jm* *jm can’t help but smile bc sw always gets like this over minor issues* “you’re cute”

*moody sw who scolds jm for getting hurt but coddling him to death*

commentary : no because tell me why this man is so precious HE LOOKED LIKE HE WAS GONNA CRY OVER JIMIN’S INJURY. protect this man at all costs.

clip four : run bts ep.145

*jm tugging on sw’s sleeve for attention as he attempts to read a hint* *confused but curious hyung* “how do i look?” *asking for ops on his cute lil pink hanbok*

*sw blinks as jm does a twirl* *proceeds to grab a flower from the bush behind jm before offering it to him and leaving without another word lmao*

*startled jm at the camera* “i think he just helped me with my mission without realising”

commentary : so tsundere of him tbh 😍😍😍 ik jimin loves a little play of hard to get (also he looked so effing cute in his hanbok like the ring is ready, the dress is ready, the altar is there)

clip five : run bts ep.83 (behind)

*baby jm who seems to be having too much fun in the pool and doesn’t wanna get out* *swimming cutely rn*

“ah, get out already! we need to film” “this guy, seriously…” *older hyungs are complaining*

“look at this!” *jm continues to swim cutely like a puppy* *nj is so done even tho he finds it cute too*

“wanie, get him out” *literally the only man for the job* *sw decides to enter the pool to collect jm but jm sees it coming*

*quickly attempting to neutralise the threat by splashing water on sw* *sw wiping the water from his face before dipping beneath the water fully*

*jm is startled when sw comes up from underneath him* *jm is now sat upon sw’s shoulders in the pool*

“yah… he’s coming out in style!” “those shoulders are no joke…” “me next! me next!”

commentary : one thing both jimin and i have in common is our love for siwan’s strength because he did not need to do all that and yet here we are

commentary : not that i’m complaining 😏

clip six : run bts ep.75 (behind)

*jm is tired from a long day of shooting* *still not time to go home yet*

“we might have to film yoongi’s again. i wanna try it with a different angle” *lots of retakes bc bangtan are perfectionists* *jm is honestly half asleep in his pjs*

*director sw is not too bothered as he gives jin a thumbs up + easily guides jm to settle his head against sw’s shoulder*

*moments later and sw has requested for a blanket for jm too after quieting everyone else down* “i think we should stop it here for now” *totally not bc jm is asleep or anything*

commentary : they are honestly so kdrama boyfriends coded it’s not even funny y’all

clip seven : jimin’s cheeks

*jm gauging his face as the cameraman records him* *hands on cheeks* “are they red? can you see it?” *feeling shy rn*

*trying to get another look but quickly covers his cheeks again* “ah, is it really bad?” *cue jm going on a manhunt to ask another member’s opinion*

*ends up locating sw by the food table filling his plate* *walking up to him + tugging the bottom of his sweater*

*sw mid-snack as he turns to look at jm and sees the camera* *full cheeks laughing shyly before turning his attention back to jm after he’s done eating* “mm?”

“do my cheeks look red?” *asking with a pout* *sw instinctively lifts his hand to cup jm’s cheek + caresses it with the pad of his thumb* “a little. why, did you drink?”

*entranced jm cosying up to sw’s affection immediately lol* “i think it might’ve been the noodles. does it look bad?” “it’s cute. you always look cute.” *continues to caress jm’s cheek*

“YAH STOP FLIRTING!” *hobi in the bg*

commentary : WHAT WAS THE REASON?? WHAT WAS THE REASON??? hobi is all of us actually

clip eight : jimin’s cheeks pt.2 (because siwan is obsessed with them)

*in the midst of an interview* “siwan-ssi, what about you? we’ve heard you have a very close bond with jimin-ssi. can you tell us what you like about him?”

*shy sw hour as he smiles + avoids eye contact* *cheeky jm can’t wait to hear his answer* “hyung-nim loves all of me right~?” *biggest tease on the planet*

*other members are also enjoying this way too much* “they’re always together.” “yah, he’s blushing. look at him.”

*sw waving them off + trying to collect himself* “no, no. ah,” *looking over at jm for a moment* *finding it difficult to maintain eye contact but he’s smiling bashfully* “i think… i like his cheeks. they’re chubby and squishable so i like to play with them.”

*an innocent comment is quickly taken out of context* “WHAT?!” “siwan-ssi, you play with jimin’s cheeks?” *nj being dirty minded* *sw quick to defend himself and waving frantically* “no! no, i meant i like to- ah, forget it. you guys need to get yourselves checked.” *tsking*

*jm is honestly living for this tbh* *interviewer is clearly a big jiwan fan as he asks his next question after everyone has calmed down* “would you be able to give jimin-ssi a kiss on the cheek for fans?”

*cue a ‘disgruntled’ sw placing a kiss on jm’s cheek + jm’s hand instinctively reaching up to touch the area he was kissed with a giggly blush*

commentary : i would actually kill for fetus jiwan because just look at how pure they are here. siwan was so shy :(( i love them so much my lil beans

conclusion : guys i could seriously go on forever with the amount of jiwan content there is out there but i needed to end the video at some point <\3 i hope everyone enjoyed jiwan’s cute little moments as much as i did and i will see you guys in the next one, bye bye !!

TAGLIST

@pandorasword , @ateezsora , @anqelws , @kaitieskidmore97 , @vizianary

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buckys-little-belle · 1 year

Note

I love love love your little terror series! Would you consider making one if maybe like more gareth forward or like gareth being the main caregiver? He seems like he would just be the sweetest caregiver and I'm honestly just in love lol, maybe he calls the little bunny?? Thank you so much!

Little Bunny

Gareth Emerson x Little!Reader (They/Them Pronouns Used)

Warnings - Jason is a bully

Notes - Gareth is aged up to be a senior in highschool on his second go around so he’s at least 19, I think, I don’t know how American schools work … Also this is short, I’m coming back from a very long hiatus so please just bear with me <3

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW

+ + + + + +

The parking lot was as loud as ever, students chatting, catching up after a long summer, cars parked so close doors could hardly open, and new students lost to the point of no return. Senior year seemed to creep up on Gareth like no other, the excitement of becoming the Hellfire club's new DM had taken up most of his summer, the thoughts of math homework, english class, and graduation lost on him as he began planning his first campaign.

Ever since Eddie, Little Terror and Jeff had graduated, the school felt less alive, no more table top rants, or chasing a lost little through the hallways after school. Everything just felt empty and broken. "Gareth!" Dustin called out, waving him over to the group of people he seemed imbedded in, Mike and Lucas both present. "This is Elle." He pointed to a girl, her giving him a shy wave in return. "And that's Will, they're new, and old." Gareth just shook his head, Dustin was sure to explain what he meant later. "They wanted to know if they could join the club?"

"Sure, the more the merrier!" He smiled, faking his enthusiasm, the change that this year was to bring too fresh on his mind. "Just make sure they have what they need purchased by Friday!" He shouted as he walked away, the group chatting as he left them behind.

"Sorry." A voice pleaded, the sound heard by Gareth as he walked to his locker, the language hall usually quite, hardly any students in it before school, just those unlucky enough to have their lockers located there. "I really didn't do it I promise! I didn't do anything!" The voice continued.

"I don't believe you!" A harsh voice called back, one that belonged to Jason Carver, the second year senior who's dad apparently couldn't pay off the teachers to let him pass. "You did this on purpose! And you're going to pay!"

Gareth walked towards the commotion, almost hesitating as he instinctively waited for Eddie to barge through and deal with Jason. "Ahem." Gareth cleared his throat, leaning against the lockers closest to the pair, his new found height doing wonders to his intimidation tactics.

"This is none of your business' Freak." Jason spat, turning back to the crying person in front of him.

"Pretty sure it is." Gareth said sarcastically, looking around to add dramatic effect, as if he was looking for a care in the world for Jason. Before the Jock could get back to tormenting the clearly new person, he spoke again. "Seeing as they are in Hellfire, this situation is definitely my business, so tell me what's going on here."

Jason just laughed, looking to the poor soul and then back to Gareth. "Should have known they were with you, all you Freaks look the same."

The words made Y/n cry harder, standing still, tears running down their cheeks as Jason turned back to them before walking away, not having the time to try and mess with the Hellfire Club this early in the year. "'m so sorry!" Y/n cried, looking now to Gareth, their eyes wide, heart beating fast. "I promise I din' do anyfin, 'm jus' clumsy 'nd fell." Their tears were fatter now, their shoulders shaking slightly.

Gareth's heart broke, 'Why do we always meet littles in moments of distress?' He asked himself. "I know you didn't do anything, and even if you did, your secret would be safe with me." He smiled, pretend zipping and locking his lips.

Y/n wrinkled their nose, a small smile now on their face as tears fell. "I'll leabe now, 'm sorry for bothering you."

"You're not bothering me, don't worry." He chuckled, Y/n quite literally making his day. "Why don't I take you somewhere and help you calm down? Wouldn't want to spend your first day sad, would you?"

"You don' wan' me t'go with you, 'm, 'm ..."

"Feeling tiny?" Gareth asked, Y/n's eyes widening when they heard his words. "Well, if you don't want to come and play with allll the toys I have, that's fine, I'll just let them know you don't want to be their friends." He said, fake sadness lacing his voice, turning to walk away.

"Toys?"

Gareth smiled, nodding his head, gesturing for Y/n to follow him.

+ + + + + +

The drama room lights turned on with a buzz, the room suddenly flooded with warm light, the large table in the middle as clean as it will ever get all year, not yet in use, costumes on racks surrounding the perimeter of the room. "They should be over here, you can take a seat if you want." He smiled, walking towards the back wall in search of the box of second hand toys Little Fairy used to play with, all donated by those in the club, along with Eddie's thrift store finds.

Y/n wrinkled their nose as the box was placed in front of them, contemplating what to pull out first, before their hand landed on a stuffed bunny, one Little Fairy refused to play with because of their little blue and orange stuffed blobs.

"You two are a prefect pair." Gareth chuckled, his arms crossed as he stood a few steps back. "You both have cute little noses." He laughed when Y/n looked up at him, their nose scrunched in the perfect bunny like way.

Y/n smiled, giving the bunny a little wiggle, their hand wiping the tears off their face, a smile on their lips rather than their previous frown. "I's cute." They giggled, showing the bunny off to Gareth.

"It is very cute, why don't you take him with you today?" Gareth asked, now crouched down, his arms laying on the table as he looked at the thing, giving one of the ears a little pet. "He sits in here all day alone, I think he’d enjoy the company.” He smiled.

“Really?” Y/n’s tears had mostly dried, but sadness seemed to be permanent plastered to their face, like no amount of stuffed animal would rub it off.

“Of course.” Gareth sat in the seat next to Y/n, one arm leaning against the table. “Why don’t we meet up at lunch, and you can let me know if he’s behaving?” He asked, knowing he wouldn’t be a good ‘hellfire babysitter’ if he didn’t check in on them later, though he would ask even if it wasn’t for the club, Y/n and him seemed to click, sort of like Eddie and Little fairy.

“M’kay.” Y/n smiled up at him, wrinkling their nose once again. “Tanks.”

“Of course, Little bunny.”

#buckys little belle #age regression fic #age regression #little!reader #gareth stranger things #gareth emerson #gareth x reader #hellfire club x reader #hellfire club x little reader #hellfire babysitting club #strager things #stranger things age regression #stranger things fic

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dontcryshopgirl152 · 1 year

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Your Husband Jo

Josephine "Jo" March x Fem!Reader

Summary: For as long as you could remember, you’d had a crush on Jo March. You and Jo are both back home for the summer after getting engaged and married, respectively, and your midnight rendezvous will end with a different kind of union. (2.9K Words)

Notes: Hello! Apologies in advance for any inaccuracies, I'm a very casual fan of Little Woman but a very serious fan of actual women.

This is my first fic, and I hope you enjoy it! This is fun writing practice for me after a long hiatus from the craft, and just a fun way to be more chill with sexuality, so please don't take it super seriously. If you did like it, let me know, I'd love to make more writing friends!

Warnings: Sex! Fingering, scissoring. Some angst (given the whole engaged/married situation, but very light and not mentioned much).

For as long as you could remember, you’d had a crush on Jo March. She was the star you perpetually orbited around, no matter how long you’d been away or how many other dazzling women you met. There was something intoxicating about the way she held a pen, a fork, hell, even a handkerchief; she was so sure of herself. She let herself be clumsy and strong and ungraceful, and she did it all with such confidence.

Over the years, the two of you had become close friends, bonding over a shared love of theatre and long walks and hating the small town you were both stuck in. Living a few doors down didn’t hurt, either; sneaking out at night was easy in the warm summer months, and you had spent many clear nights down by the creek, laying elbow to elbow watching the night sky slowly spin past above you.

She would lay her head on your stomach sometimes when her neck hurt from being bent over her desk too long, and it took everything in you to keep your breathing normal when her cheek rested on the soft, thin cotton of your nightgown. Every once in a while, she would fall asleep there, her head drifting to the side, breath blowing gently up into the curve of your breasts, and your heart would flip in your chest.

Those girlhood summers came and went, and now you found yourself home for a new kind of summer. You had met your fiance while traveling to New York for a visit to your uncle, and he was a kind and gentle man, and soft-spoken, and he adored you. But you’d scarcely gotten to know him before your family deemed it a suitable match and sent you home to prepare, brushing up on all of your wifely duties.

It was on a trip to the post office to send a letter to your betrothed that you see her again. Stepping down from a carriage, blinking into the blinding Massachusetts sun, hand shielding her eyes. The woman’s skirt catches on the step of the carriage, and she has to turn and bend down to free it, revealing a flash of bare skin. You stop in your tracks; Jo never wears stockings, no matter how much her mother harps on her to be proper. She rights herself quickly and turns towards where you stand transfixed. She gasps a little and her face breaks into a wide grin.

“Y/N!” she shouts, dropping the small bag she has been clutching and running towards you at full speed. You drop your envelopes and meet her in a crashing hug. She lifts you easily and spins you around, laughing. When she sets you down, she leans back to meet your gaze.

“It’s been so long, I didn’t expect to see you home this summer. What are you doing here?”

You were just as surprised. Last you’d heard, Jo had married some German professor after moving to the city, and that was three years ago.

“I’m to brush up on house-wife duties before I…” you trail off. You don’t want to tell her you are engaged, it feels wrong for some reason.

Her smile falters a bit. “You are engaged to be married?” You nod.

“That’s marvelous, Y/N!” she grins again, but this time a little too wide, her voice going up a bit too high. “You must let me walk with you later so you can tell me all about it!”

You nod in agreement, then see a man approaching from behind where Jo stands. Tall and lanky, he reaches her silently and simply places a hand on her shoulder.

“Oh, Y/N, my deepest apologies, this is Friedrich Bhaer, my, uh, husband.”

He lifts up a hand to remove his hat, but his gaze never leaves Jo’s shoulder. He swiftly returns his hand to his jacket pocket and looks at Jo expectantly.

“We really must be off, but may I see you later? We can go to our old spot.” Jo meets your gaze again, something wild in her eyes, and you nod.

“Of course, Jo, that sounds wonderful.”

She clasps your hand tightly with her own, and then she is gone.

…

For reasons you can’t fully explain, you find yourself sneaking out when night falls, and your feet lead you to your and Jo’s old spot. Three quarters of a mile into the forest, there is an old, hollow fallen tree that lays beside a quieter stretch of the creek. It is here that you would abscond with old rags and candle stubs as girls, creating a little house in the shelter of the old fir. You would read poems and tidy the fallen branches that fell around the base of the tree, pretending to prepare for company, cook meals, and lounge by an imaginary fire. Now, you sit inside the empty shell and sigh. It’s a clear, warm night, and everything feels hazy and stretched to infinity. You had tried to sleep earlier, but an hour, then two had passed and your eyes still did not grow tired.

You had tried to imagine what being married to your future husband would be like, but it frightened you. You were afraid of exposing yourself to him, having him make love to you. You had heard it was painful from cousins and friends, in hushed conversations overheard around clothing lines and kitchens after dark. You had kissed a boy when you were small and remember it being underwhelming. You thought back to the summers here at the tree, how Jo would gaze up at you from where she lay on your stomach, fingertips dancing over your legs, how your hands would tremble, mouth becoming dry.

You remembered the summer before she left for New York, the last night you shared here at your spot. How she bent her head to your forehead, placing a kiss there. How her hands found the hem of your skirt, gently lifting it up, exposing your legs to the late autumn air.

“I will be your husband tonight,” she had whispered, slipping two fingers into your waiting mouth. You had sucked gently, and those same fingers had guided you to gasping.

Lost in the memory, your hand wanders to your breast, squeezing gently, hoping to replicate the feeling of that night. You had tried so many times since, but couldn't make yourself gasp the way she had that night. You close your eyes and try to remember what she had smelled like, the way the ends of her hair had felt just barely touching your arms.

You jolt out of your reverie when you hear a twig snap a few feet away. You shrink back into the tree with a start, your hands flying away from yourself. Who could have seen you leave? The whole house was fast asleep when you padded out the door. And no one knows where this spot is, it’s off the path and well-hidden by branches.

Suddenly, Jo’s face appears in the opening of the tree. “I thought I might find you here!”

You gasp a little, nervously. “How did you know I would be here?”

She crawls into the tree, her knees scraping along the forest floor to fit inside. “Just a hunch.”

Her hair has fallen out of its braid and flows down her back. She wears a thin chemise and long, flowing skirt, thinning at the hem from wear and tear. You notice with a start that you can see her nipples poking up gently beneath her shirt, and swallow to see their pert attention. You had seen her like this before, but not in years. You bring your gaze back up to her face and she is gazing at you, that same wild look in her eyes as before.

“You’re engaged,” she repeats her earlier question again, softly, sadly. You just nod. “Do you love him?”

You realize you’re holding your breath and let it go shakily. Jo reaches out to grasp your arms, gently but firmly, with all the strength of her lean frame. You jolt a little under her touch, and realize that despite the warm summer evening, you’re shivering a bit.

“I…I do not know,” you concede, eyes flashing down to study the leaf strewn floor. Her grip tightens, nose flaring as she breathes in hard. You have scarcely seen her like this before, she seems nervous and on edge.

“Y/N…” she begins, biting her lip. She rocks forward a bit, seeming to become unbalanced, and you grasp her biceps to help hold her up. She sucks in a breath and you meet her gaze again.

Before you know what is happening, she is leaning in and crashing the soft pink of her mouth against your lips. You gasp a little and fall back into the wall of the tree, and she follows you, pinning you there by your elbows. It takes you a moment to process that Jo March, the woman you have been in love with since you knew what love was, is kissing you. And you are kissing her back, your body seeming to move of its own accord. She lifts her hands from your arms to your face, cradling your jaw in one hand and pulling you deeper into the kiss with the other, tangling it in the hair at the nape of your neck. Your hands fall to her waist and you feel her suck in her stomach at your touch. One of your hands sits just below the hem of her shirt, and you feel the skin of her lower back there, beneath your fingertips. It’s warm and soft and feels electric. Everywhere your skin touches hers is on fire.

She deepens the kiss, pushing her tongue into your mouth, and you grip her tighter, your other hand coming up from her skirted hip to her back, pushing her shirt up an inch higher. She sighs and eases one hand down your neck to the small of your back, and you arch into her at the sensation. She holds you fast and pivots the two of you sloppily to lay you down on the soft leaves below, notching one knee in between your legs and one to the left of your hip. You grunt as you hit the ground and she pulls her face away for a moment.

“Are you hurt?” she asks, her eyebrow knit in concern. She is breathing hard, her face flushed. You smile a bit, dazed.

“No,” you answer, ‘I’m fine.”

“Good.” she sighs. You glance down at her chest again and see her nipples, now straining a bit at the fabric. You realize you’ve bunched it in your hand behind her. You start to loosen your grip, but get a better idea and let your hands wander from her back around to her breasts under the shirt. She realizes what you’re doing and her mouth falls open a bit. She fumbles to remove her shirt but soon her torso is set free, and you watch as her breasts become exposed to the moonlight.

They look so soft, like fallen snow still untouched after drifting into smooth heaps across the fields. Her nipples are starkly darker, and look like small hardened pebbles in this light. She shivers a little at your initial touch, but seems to melt a little into your hands as you work at her breasts, rolling her nipples between your thumbs and forefingers. This elicits a small whimper from her, and you raise your eyes to meet her. She is panting a little now, her mouth still hanging open a little. You look back to her breasts and roll her nipple again with your left hand, more slowly this time. She lets out a low moan and dips her head a bit towards you, eyes closed. You remove your hand and she whimpers, only to gasp when your teeth close around the spot your fingers had occupied. You suck on her and she leans into you, chest heaving beneath your mouth.

“Y/N,” she gasps, a hand shooting up to grasp the nape of your neck and pull you closer. You lavish your tongue on her nipple and use your other hand to massage her other breast, and you can feel her shaking a bit. You pull your face away and look into her eyes again, now just a few inches from your own.

“Be my husband,” you gasp.

In answer, she starts peppering kisses down your neck, slipping the buttons of your nightgown open to reveal your own breasts, already heaving from before she had arrived. She sucks a harsh kiss into the space just below the curve of one, and you suck in a hot breath. She pulls you up to remove the nightgown from your arms and keeps kissing you, warming your skin with her mouth. Your stomach is upside down, and there is a heat in the pit of your core that you know well. You are sure there is a spot on your nightgown where your arousal is pooling beneath you.

“Jo,” you moan, winding your fingers into her hair. “Please, I am begging you.”

She stops and leans back, breasts heaving, hair wild. She reaches a hand up to your lips and you open your mouth to her fingers, two sliding in easily. You loll your tongue around them, sucking gently, and she moans again. She pulls out her fingers with a soft pop and lowers her hand to your stomach, pulling up your nightgown with the other hand to reveal your thighs and now dripping pussy. She grins wickedly.

“My, my, dear wife,” she coos. “What is this?”

You groan at the title. “Please husband,” you pant. “Please, I need you.”

She teases your folds a little. Her spit-soaked fingertips have grown cold in the air, and you shudder and gasp as they meet your hot center. She slips one finger in, then another, up to the second knuckle easily before curling them a bit inside you. You cry out and she smiles again.

“Yes, dear wife, let your husband take care of you,” she whispers huskily. She is thrusting into you now, gently but with a quick rhythm, and you can hear the wet sound of her hand going in and out. It sounds like heaven. You close your eyes and let the feeling wash over you. Jo March is making love to you. Jo March called you her wife. Jo March-

She stops for a moment and you groan in frustration, but the feeling is quickly replaced with fresh arousal as you feel her breath on your clit. She licks you a little, gently, experimentally, and the sound that comes out of you is embarrassingly needy. You slap a hand over your mouth and she looks up at you, a small smile on her face.

“My darling, do not worry,” she says, gently, licking you again. You groan once more, and she meets your gaze. “No one can hear you when you are safe in my bed, dear wife. Let yourself feel my love for you.”

She kisses your clit and begins moving her fingers within you again. You suck in air, but it is never enough, as the fire within you consumes it instantly. You find yourself arching into her touch, words leaving your mouth in an endless stream you have no awareness of as she hurries her hand inside you.

“Oh god, Jo, I love you, Jo, Jo, please, I need-”

“Call me your husband,” Jo hoarsely utters as she sucks in a breath.

“Husband, please, I am going to-oh god.”

She pulls her fingers nearly out of you and adds a third, stretching you. You whine and a sob comes out, the sensation of it overtaking you. Her hand within you is going so quickly you feel you might faint, your heart is pounding in your head. A great light explodes inside of you and you hear yourself cry out, even louder.

She never stops her motion, locking her lips around your clit and sucking while her hands work at you from the inside out. You feel yourself clenching around her and she hums contentedly, making sparks dance behind your eyes. Warmth spills out of you around her hand and you whimper, head swimming. She whispers into your clit in between licks, coaxing your cum out of you as you grasp at her hair, her shoulders, anything to keep you grounded.

As your orgasm subsides, she smiles and leans back, slowing her hand but not removing it. You take a shaky breath and open your eyes, blinking up into the starlight.

She leans up to kiss you gently and removes her hand, relishing the small whine that escapes your lips.

“Jo-” you start, then break off into a small sob. “I cannot marry that man.”

“Don’t worry, my dear wife,” she whispers, brushing the hair out of your eyes. “I will take care of everything.” She leans in and kisses your forehead, then pulls up and cradles you into her. You nestle into her chest, breathing in the scent of her skin mixed with your arousal, floating on the humid air. Your breathing slows as you listen to her heartbeat, the sound of the creek bubbling past, and the soft owl hoots in the distance. You feel safe here in her arms.

She strokes your head gently, whispering how much she has missed you in your ear, how every night she dreamed of coming back to this place and reuniting with you. You sigh contentedly and wish you could stay in this moment forever, soothed to restful sleep by the voice of your husband Jo March.

#little women #x reader #jo march x reader #jo march #little women 2019 #fanfic #saoirse ronan #amy march #beth march

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anneapocalypse · 5 months

Text

Writing Wrap-up and 2024 Goals

It's a weird year to be doing a wrap-up, because I did not post a whole lot this year and I'm not sure I even set any goals last January thanks to having covid and being sick and exhausted for weeks, which still kind of feels like it threw off my whole year even though that sounds dramatic. Whatever. I've moped enough about it being a bad year for writing; now, I want to look forward.

2023 Wrap-Up

In case you'd like to read the one fic I did post this year, it's "Before You Go", a Loghain/Maric fic for Dragon Age (3022 words, rated E), which I am still quite happy with! And though it's not writing, I also made a podfic of RosellaWrites' gorgeous fic "let them not make me a stone (and let them not spill me)" (and if you're not interested in podfic you should still go read Rosella's fic, seriously, it's great).

While November 2022 was the last time I made substantial progress on A Hero Sleeps in Gwaren (my Briala/F!Tabris longfic for Dragon Age), I did make a few attempts to chip away at the draft this year. I didn't keep any records of what progress I made, but lucky for me Scrivener has a writing history feature that can at least give me a ballpark, and... it says I added 17,326 words to the draft this year (all in the first half of the year), which, not gonna lie, seems unreal to me. The first half of this year is mud in my head, so the fact that I did in fact get some writing done is really encouraging.

Over the summer, FFXIV started to really consume me as I had finished ARR by that point and my investment in the story was growing, and I also started taking a more active leadership role in my tiny free company, and so for the back half of the year I've mostly been writing little snippets about my Warrior of Light Ariane and her adventures and relationships, some of which may become part of actual fics later. This totals out to about 19,500 words at the moment.

So I only posted about 3000 words, but in total I wrote almost 40K this year. Is that a fantastic year, no... but honestly, it's a lot better than what my brain has been telling me I've accomplished this year, which is nothing. :P So I'm glad that I sat down to actually find the numbers!

Onward and upward.

So what's next?

2024 Goals

Fandom:

Finish one longfic.

Write and post a one-shot.

Do one exchange.

Original:

Outline an original novel.

Write a poem.

Send out one piece.

Tentatively my immediate plans are to get started outlining and then writing my Ariane/Haurchefant fic. I'm on the fence about February. On the one hand, it would be great to come back to my Briala/F!Tabris longfic for Femslash February, but on the other hand there's a high probability I'm going to be playing Endwalker by that point and I have no hope of keeping my head in Dragon Age during that time, so it's probably best not to commit to it. Dragon Age fic might be best saved for after I've caught up on MSQ when there are (hopefully) a few months still left to wait for Dawntrail and I can take a little break to let it marinate while I work on something else. My enthusiasm for the Briala/Tabris fic has not waned despite the long hiatus, and just yesterday I was reading bits of the draft and getting excited again, so I do hope to finish that this year and get to share it with you.

The alternate candidate for February is either keep working on the Haurchefant fic or in the case of a miracle in which I actually finish it this month (hah!), move forward with the next one I have planned, an Urianger/Moenbryda. That's unlikely but we'll see. I know I still have things to learn about Urianger in Endwalker, which I'm very excited for.

As for what exchange(s) I might do this year, I'm not sure yet! I haven't seen any announcements yet that Chocolate Box is running this year. Black Emporium and FemslashEx are both strong candidates for me. We'll see where I am when those roll around, or maybe something else will catch my eye!

Edited to add: Oh, yeah, also at some point we're supposed to get that final season of Red vs. Blue. I have a few outstanding projects in RvB but the main one that really matters to me is Radio Silence, my Carolina lost years fic. I'd love to use the series' send-off as a kick in the pants to finally finish that one, whenever that happens. We'll see!

Finally, I am making a conscious effort to reclaim my writing time, which traditionally has been the morning between 9 and noon because that's when my mind is the sharpest, but over the past I basically let that slip entirely and be taken over by either housework or gaming, just writing on the fly when something came to me. I'm not morning gaming anymore unless it's for a good reason (timed event I need to catch, etc, which is rare, and finishing yesterday's roulettes is not a good enough reason because the queues are slower in the morning and it just ends up eating more time than it needs to, they happen every day, it's fine).

On to 2024. Looking forward to it.

#writing goals #writing 2024 #writing stuff

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choptop-sawyer · 2 years

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Letters to Bobby: Introduction

Chop Top Sawyer/Reader

16 years. 16 years since you've last seen Bobby. 16 years of fame as the musician he always said you could be. 16 years of emptiness, a hole deep inside that you've never found a way to heal. You have to go back. You have to find Bobby, the friend of your youth and the love that haunts you. But going back isn't simple. Not everything is as it was when you left, especially Bobby himself.

After all, 16 years is a long time.

[An Excerpt from a Magazine]

███ on Love, Music, and the Past.

July 18th, 1985

When one walks into ███’s L.A. penthouse, it’s hard not to be shocked into quiet awe. After all, ███ hasn’t agreed to an interview in over five years since their retreat from the music industry. It’s walking into the lair of a reclusive genius, a once in a lifetime event. In the dimly lit but large living room, they sit, reclined like a monarch in a large, neon purple armchair. The wall at their back is covered with records, dating from all decades, and encompassing, to the cursory glance, an impressive number of genres. I’m here with them tonight to catch up on what they’ve been up to since the beginning of their hiatus and perhaps learn a little bit more about the musical legend.

Interviewer: So, ███, you created quite a stir when you released your first album, Letters to Bobby in 73’. You had your fair share of fans, and your fair share of critics. Did you ever expect to be as successful as you were with it?

███: Letters was a passion project, so I didn’t expect much of it. God, 73’ seems like it was forever ago. But yeah, I didn’t think anybody would really like it. I was just a bitch from some nowhere town in Texas. The biggest thing anybody had going for them back in Newt was that one of the Hansen boys went to college and became a lawyer of some kind. And there I was, young, angry, been in L.A. for a few years and feeling homesick as all hell and writing songs. I thought that maybe, people wouldn’t like to hear homesick, especially from a nobody. But what did I know? Everyone liked it. Most I was expecting was to say, “I made an album” and run back to Newt one day with my dreams put out in an ashtray, like anybody who comes here with a guitar and a big head.

Interviewer: Newt was your childhood home, correct? Do you have any good memories of it? How did your childhood reflect in your songs on the album?

███: Aw fuck no, Newt was hell’s asshole. See here, you had a gas station, a graveyard, and a few shops in town. And it was hot. I hear all these Californians whining about the heat here, but it had nothing on Newt. It was the kind of heat that could make a guy up and kill his whole family. Bam! Shot in their beds. That’s how hot it was. And everyone knew each other too. Good in some ways, bad in another. It just made the whole world seem so small.

Interviewer: That’s quite a vivid image. A bit morbid. Would you say that this rugged outlook on life made you stand out when you first became seen as a promising up and coming musician?

███: Oh, didn’t realize that was morbid. I’d blame it on the people I hung with when I was a kid. They were good people, but they didn’t have much at all, especially when all the jobs dried up. I guess when you’re that close to not knowing about what’s gonna happen to you all the time, you get a bit in touch with death. And yeah, I was a bit unusual. I had a big mouth, and I wasn’t exactly “sophisticated” if you know what I mean. I guess I never will be, but that’s okay with me. I definitely stood out.

Interviewer: Was the “Bobby” that the album was a letter to one of the people you spent time with as a kid? You had always given a different explanation as to who he was in previous interviews.

███: [laughs] Oh! Yeah! That was just a joke on my part. I don’t know, I’d tell those reporters whatever I think they’d might like to hear. Told one he was my brother. Told another that he was my dog, and they wrote that down, I kid you not. But no, I won’t yank your leg now. He was one of those people I hung with. I was in love with him. He loved me too. Always told me I could make it as a star. I always said “Aw, what the hell do you know, Bobby?” but I guess he was right. But we were kids. I still was when I moved away. May have been twenty and thought myself so mature but looking back I was stupid to think that.

Interviewer: So, Letters to Bobby was inspired by your childhood sweetheart? That’s so touching. Do you know where Bobby is now?

███: I don’t. It’s a common story, really. He got drafted to go fight in Vietnam. He couldn’t even find Vietnam on a map [laughs]. We were so scared when we got the news, especially him. He’d never been out of Texas. He told me he’d keep in touch after he got shipped off, but that didn’t happen. He hated writing letters. I asked his brothers about him a few times after he left, but they couldn’t say much either. I don’t think they liked me around that much. [They pause and close their eyes]. Reminded them too much of him, I guess.

Interviewer: That’s a shame. Have all your songs been about Bobby?

███: Not all of them, but a lot of them. He loved music. Said it was his life, besides me. So, I guess me doing music ended up being about him a lot of the times, whether I intended it or not. Things just happen like that.

Interviewer: Let's get to the question everybody's asking. You stopped releasing new songs and stopped doing interviews about five years ago. What happened?

███: You know, it’s a funny thing. I’ve realized I’ve done almost nothing with my life, not really. The happiest times of my life have been in Bobby’s truck bed. Sure, there have been some brief moments of joy, like when I first heard someone come up and tell me they loved Letters, but not really anything lasting. Nothing is permanent here. In Newt, nothing changes. Here, it changes all the time. [They slump back in their chair.] I decided I didn’t much like that rock and roll lifestyle. I just stopped talking to anyone. I’ve just been here, collecting my records and collecting dust. Don’t think anybody cares anyways, there’s always some bright new thing to take my place.

Interviewer: I get you…

███: No, you don’t. I’m tired. I’m so tired. It’s always, “███, when are you gonna drop a new album? ███, when are you gonna come out and party again? ███, why don’t you take a massive fucking shit from two thousand fucking feet in the air so we can take a picture of it and sell it to all the goddamn tabloids?” I shouldn’t mind, I should love it. But can’t I just try to find a way to be happy again?

Interviewer: Ah. I’m sorry you feel that way. So. I’m assuming this means you’ve had no new songs in the works?

███: Nope. None. I’ve been run dry. I have my money; I have my fame. I think we’re done here... sorry. I'm sorry. Don't know what came over me.

Interviewer: Alright. Any last words?

███: I miss you, Bobby. I miss you more than I could ever write into a song.

[End Excerpt].

#chop top x reader #chop top #chop top sawyer #slashers #slasher x reader #tcm #the texas chainsaw massacre #tcm 2 #letters to bobby #fanfiction #my writing #horror tag 2 #its debatable whether i continue this or not but i really liked this

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catboydogma · 7 months

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thank u for the tags @calamity-aims !

How many works do you have on AO3?

106!

What’s your total AO3 word count?

341,422. probably because i favor longer fics over shorter ones lol

What fandoms do you write for?

mainly star wars right now, but i started out in dc, vertigo, and marvel. still thinking about making a foray back into wildstorm (dc runs of the authority do not exist to me) but i'm on a bit of an (unintentional) hiatus right now (as evidenced by the complete lack of writing and publishing fic for the last like ... year. yikes). i also have (baby's first) overwatch fic in the works tho and that's actually the fandom that got me into ao3 (LOL)

What are your top five fics by kudos?

bleed-through

Looking back, Obi-Wan supposed one could say that the galaxy had been saved by Obi-Wan’s decision to start sleeping with his Commander. OR: Obi-Wan decides to have a little gay, as a treat, saves the galaxy.

CHTHONIC (no surprise there)

Not even two days later, Fox revised his opinion. This wasn’t a disaster. This was a Grade-A, first order, fresh off the hot plate fuckfest. Fox’s day had gone something like this: lay in bed. Get up. Knock back some of the sludge in the mess masquerading as caf. Go through forms. Fill out forms. Bust open a closet in which the Senators for Uyter and Kinyen had both managed to get “stuck” in. Go through more forms. Fill out more forms. Get called up to the Senate dome to tell a Senator that no, the Guard did not address noise complaints. Find that the stack of datapads on his desk had somehow tripled over the last two hours. Despair at the state of his inbox. Etcetera, etcetera.

let the lights bleed (really???) (this one did surprise me lol)

“What business does a Jedi have at a charity gala thrown by the Count of Serenno?” “I was entreated by the good Count to fend off his many suitors,” Obi-Wan said, sipping from a glass of something shimmery and bubbling as he watched Yan cast increasingly frustrated glances over the heads of the crowd. The matrons of Serenno with marriageable children were like piranhas. Exceedingly social, flighty, determined piranhas. “I have been informed by several sources that my Grandmaster is quite the catch.” Obi-Wan cast an eye of suspicion at Fett’s expressionless helmet. “You aren’t here to…?” “Manda, no,” Fett said fervently.

love like a roar (really???)

“I don’t—I, uh. I don’t know what a varactyl is, Master,” Obi-Wan said, cradling the egg gingerly. “Find out soon, you will!” Yoda cackled, rapping the end of his gimer stick against Qui-Gon’s kitchen tile. If it were any other master, Qui-Gon might have protested giving the egg of a live creature to his very young, very tired padawan. But it was Yoda, and Yoda did what he liked. Qui-Gon supposed there had to be some advantages to being shin-high and over 500 years.

dancer in the dark

“Fuck,” Obi-Wan said. “Anakin, what’s Bly’s last name?” Anakin blue-screened for a moment. “Uh…” “Fuck,” Obi-Wan said again, sliding ungracefully off the boards with a thump and putting his back to the door. “Is that—tell me that’s not Bly’s father, Anakin.” Good God, he’d never live this down. “No,” Anakin said after a moment squinting first at the door, then Obi-Wan. A tangled mess of sound was echoing through the room as the newcomers greeted Bly and vice versa, all deep voices with light accenting—Māori, Obi-Wan remembered, slightly giddy. It was a Māori accent, because—“That’s his brother,” Anakin gold Obi-Wan. “Cody—” “Cody Fett,” Obi-Wan said, clutching his cup a little tighter and steadfastly refusing to look over his shoulder. “He’s brothers with Cody Fett, former Olympic gold medalist and—oh, God.“

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

i try to! due to the aforementioned hiatus, i've fallen off a bit, but it always makes my day to see them in my inbox and i do read all of them :) this might even get me to go through some of the backlog haha. if you have a long comment it's even more likely i'll leave it for a while--i like letting them sit there so i can go back and look at them

What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

ohhh great question. i don't usually do unhappy endings but probably the road south and moon barks at dog

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

the vast majority of them do have happy endings butttt i like to think that's horizontal transfer (dogma and the 501st after the war) or CHTHONIC (because i'm really quite pleased with how it turned out)

Do you get hate on fics?

not generally! i think the worst offender was someone asking me if obi-wan REALLY had to be part korean (which was honestly just really heavily implied more than anything lol) in dancer in the dark ... probably a few others but i dont pay any attention to them. i have better things to be doing with my time, like petting my cat and staring at drying paint

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

do i ever! iirc mostly codywan, quinfox, i did a codywan kink week event once (twice?) (???) (once i think) and i'm a huge fan

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

nnnnnn nooooo crossovers... i did a pacific rim fusion au (star wars cast and dynamics in pacific rim setting) for dark day/brighter night though, and that was a shit ton of fun + the cyberpunk fusion au (technically inspired by someone who was inspired by DBH but i know nothing about DBH so...) for empire + the sun

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not to my knowledge!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

not to my knowledge! got quite a few podfics tho!

Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

iirc not fully? i've had beta readers and artists (mostly for event fics) that i occasionally bounced ideas off, and that is that + this is this was REALLY inspired by some wonderful conversations and writing from @petrichordiam about codywan on tatooine , but i've never done a collab work (definitely open to it tho ... if anyone ... is wondering .......)

What’s your all-time favourite ship?

god. the metrics would say codywan which i can't fully refute. quinlan/fox is up there as well, but im also a huge (specifically transfem bly) blyla fan, which i also came by via myth. zenyatta/ramattra and hanzo/cole make me see shrimp colors tho. camilla hect/pyrrha dve + harrow/gideon from the locked tomb as well...

What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

oh yeah that would be straight to the heart. the first and only fic i've ever posted and left unfinished. it's got a playlist and semi-finished outline and everything. you know, coffee shop + tattoo shop au dinboba with a side of street racing. yeah, i'm probably never going to write for it again lol

What are your writing strengths?

dialogue ... i love dialogue. i love dialogue so much. i like to think actions scenes and imagery as well

What are your writing weaknesses?

pacing my worst enemy

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

uhhh for me personally? i try not to unless i'm passable in it myself (korean) (i've literally never had an occasion to use it tho) but i try to make sure that i just do an italicized translation or translate contextually if i must. it bogs down the writing process on my end to have to figure out what i want to say, how i want to say it, google translate it, etc etc, and it bogs down the reader on the other end with googling it lol. plus as someone w a language that does often get butchered in fic for less than stellar purposes (helloooooo koreaboos) i try to be considerate and sensitive about that kind of thing

First fandom you wrote for?

vertigo or marvel! it was either constantine or daredevil with a VERY SLIM chance of it being king chimera

Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

i am morally and legally obligated to say CHTHONIC but my current top three after that:

that is that + this is this

“Here. Drink, Cody. Come on. Don’t die on me now, not when you went to all the trouble to get out here.” “Didn’t know,” Cody rasped. “So I shouldn’t be expecting a cavalcade of Imperial stormtroopers to show up here, then?” The man asked, bland as anything. The Commander gave this the consideration it was due. “No.” “Forgive me if I don’t immediately believe you.” The man’s voice sharpened, but his grip on the Commander stayed gentle, supporting his head even when it lolled back against his will. “When have I ever let you down?” Cody asked. The man’s breathing hitched. He set Cody back down against the blankets and retreated to his spot several feet away, blaster and charge pack between the two of them like some strange barrier. “When you killed me,” the man said.

quotations + fluff

Looking back on this incident, Cody often wished that he had crushed it then and there. All he had said was a simple, “Keep it off-duty. Don’t let the General see it.”

in motion again

Blymbo: [has sent a video] Blymbo: again,,, hhhiiiggh geeeenerak ke,obi ,,,,,,,, said that Fob: what am i looking at Fob: ??? Fob: does this man know he is on galactic television??? Fob: cody… Coat: I don’t want to talk about it. Blymbo: libe … television,, Coat: What Gen. Kenobi does when off duty is none of my business and I am going to keep it that way. I am not watching that video. Put it away Bly. Blymbo: not even a peek …

thanks again for the tag! in return, no pressure tags for @sucrosesorcery , @calboniferous , @petrichordiam , @deniigi , and anyone else who wants to!

#tag games

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bates--boy · 10 months

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A mug of coffee long forgotten, now cool with the cream clouding to the top; the television going on in the living room, some Swedish gritty crime drama that became boring around season seven; cats lounging on the bookshelf, where they watch their father pace the living room.

"Yeah, I got their email, I just don't know why they need the next one so soon--"

Someone on the other end cuts him off, and Peter presses the phone closer to his ear.

"We're not even anywhere near the deadline, why the fuck--"

Peter pauses again and runs his free hand over his fuzzy scalp as he listens.

"Well, as my agent, I would hope you can negotiate a fucking break for me. You know, after I had just finished pushing out that book."

The cats' tails twitch as the animals pick up on the little cues from their father: clenching jaw, eyes squeezing shut, foot tapping on the linoleum when he stops pacing long enough.

"--that's not even in the contract -- you know what? Fine, fuck it. I'll get right to it--"

More white noise from the phone, except Peter snatches it away from his ear to shout at the screen:

"I will get the fucking book out soon! Get off my fucking back!"

"Peter, calm d--"

Peter presses the End Call button with a little more force than was necessary; it's luck that prevents the screen from cracking under his thumb. He shoots the phone into the couch cushions and locks his fingers behind his head. With his eyes closed, Peter takes a deep breath and thinks about the workload ahead. Choreography rehearsal, Pakiza's soccer game, music videos, album release, Hasan's hospital trips, magazine photoshoots. When he thinks about how he has to fit his book writing into it all, he feels the corners of his eyes prickle and go wet. He looks down at his phone. He thinks about logging into his author account, share the news that his series is going on hiatus for a few months, maybe half a year. He'll pay the penalty fees for breaking his contract; he doesn't care. Peter can let it eat a hole in his theatre profits. He just needs sleep. He just needs to breathe.

When he turns, a wink of light catches his eye. He follows it to the bookshelf. On the shelf below where the cats perch, the glass apple glimmers. It sits nice and perfect on the black velvet box with gold filigree, in which lies the neatly folded document of his and Sadaf's paternity test.

"...Right," Peter huffs, letting his arms fall to his side. He picks up the mug of coffee, takes a sip, and gags. "Ugh! Fuck!" Peter grunts. But even as he grimaces, he drains the mug, and goes to his computer.

He can make it work. He has to.

#ic #life thus far ( story )#droid noodles ( writing )

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bitch-ass-aliens · 2 years

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[This is more an introspective personal post more than anything else, but I do express minor disappointment/criticism for the show/finale in it so proceed with caution it you don’t want to see it.]

The thing is, I knew before the official cancellation that this was probably going to be my last season in the RNM fandom. Somewhere during this last hiatus, I realized the spark had left, that I was no longer really invested in the what happened next, no longer as interested in fandom conversations and creations. When the cancellation news came, I was relieved, though also kinda of pissed because goddamn it, I was going to leave first.

The cancellation news did reignite a small flame though, knowing it would be the final season. I was excited to watch, even writing again in the weeks leading up to the premiere. And I loved the premiere a lot. But then I missed 4x03 and 4x04 because life kicked my ass, and I got behind. And in the moments when I had free time, I was too exhausted to watch something I was so invested in, so newer media was more appealing...and some of that new media ended up being very, very shiny. So by the time I felt ready to catch up...

The thing is, there are things I know I would have loved about this season and the finale, if I was still in that emotionally invested fandom state, even with all the disappointing stuff. But since I mostly emotionally moved on, it just all fell flat for me. The faults glared at me in all their ignominy. It sucks. I didn’t want to leave this show feeling disappointed and let down like I do.

That being said, RNM joins only two other major fandoms of mine that I have watched in real time and made it to the finale. A rare distinction in almost two decades of fandom. And I am incredibly grateful for this show. For three years, it did bring me a lot of joy (and pain too, but quite a bit of joy). I have friendships I know I’m walking away with that will be long-lived, and even for those that will fade without this shared interest: just because it was temporary doesn’t mean it wasn’t important. This show and fandom challenged me to teach myself to gif, inspired me to actually complete and post fanfic, inspired me to run my first fandom event(s). I’m walking away with good, tangible things that I will be able to take with me, and honestly, I think that’s more important to think about than dwelling on yet another tv show letting me down in the end.

I guess at the end of the day, what I want to say is thank you to everyone who shared this journey with me. To those who left before me, and those who will stay long after. To everyone who contributed positively to my fandom experience over the last four years, be that through reblogs, likes, kudos, comments, asks, dms, conversations on here or discord, through your art, your gifsets, your fic, your creativity, your meta, your enthusiasm, your salt, your encouragement, however you contributed. You are appreciated. Thank you for being here. <3

#and especially especially to my cowboys <3 #suz talks

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autumnalwalker · 1 year

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Empty Names - 7 - Compilation

Author's Note: And we're back after the holidays/new year hiatus with a proper buffer of chapters written after this one to boot. Time for everyone to meet an find out what their initial test run quest is going to be. For a minor spoiler, said quest was loosely inspired by this prompt from @deepwaterwritingprompts, although over the course of writing this chapter and the two that follow things have diverged a fair bit. Edit: This chapter was previously titled "Gathered Here Today". I was never a huge fan of that title though, so now it's been edited several months after posting to keep with the vague theme of Lacuna's POV chapters being computer/programming related. Hopefully the title change won't mess up existing links/reblogs too badly. Word Count: 4,307 Content Warnings: A creepy magic tunnel. Accidental misgendering (not malicious, Lacuna's just oblivious and this chapter's narration is from her POV). Gender envy and conflicted feelings about it.

<-Previous Chapter Masterpost Next Chapter->

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Lacuna asks. “I don’t see anyone else around.”

“Big elm tree on Emmett Street across from the boarded up bed and breakfast,” Eris replies.

“Looks more like it’s under renovation than boarded up to me. All that scaffolding and tarp. And there are a lot of trees on this street. We might have the wrong one.”

Eris shrugs. “Boarded up, renovating, close enough. And this is the only elm on the street. See those white flowers on all the others? Those are dogwoods. This old man,” she knocks on the broad trunk of the tree the two of them are waiting under, “sticks out like a fed at a hippie concert.”

Lacuna takes another look up and down the tree-lined street. It did seem obvious now that her friend had pointed it out.

“Didn’t know you knew so much about trees.”

“I do have hobbies that don’t involve hitting things, you know.”

“I never said -”

Eris cuts off her stammering apology with a laugh. “I’m just messing with you. Lighten up. First day on the job should be exciting. And a little waiting around won’t hurt us. We’ve got a nice shady spot and beautiful weather.”

Easy enough for Eris to say, generally at ease with meeting new people and dressed appropriately for the weather in tanktop and cargo shorts. Lacuna’s neither of those things at the moment - or ever for the former - although she’s painfully aware that she only has herself to blame for showing up in this part of the country at this time of year wearing a heavy ankle-length skirt over thermal tights and her usual hoodie. Even with the hoodie unzipped she’s already started to sweat just walking the block from the bridge out of Crossherd. If anyone comments on it she’ll say she was expecting to be spending the day indoors with air conditioning. Not that anyone ever comments on it, but that doesn’t stop her from running through hypothetical conversations in her head every time she goes out dressed too warmly.

“I guess it is a pretty street,” Lacuna concedes.

After several minutes of silent fidgeting and pacing while Eris leans against the tree Lacuna speaks up again. “So, any idea who we’re supposed to be meeting? Besides Road and Bridgewood I mean.”

“That would be me,” a voice from behind the tree answers, causing Lacuna to jump in surprise and Eris to take a quick step back with clenched fists. A lithe woman in a flowing white dress steps into view with the air around her shimmering like a heat distortion for a moment before settling into clarity. The sunlight filtering through the trees glints off pearlescent patterns on the mage’s shoulders and sleeves and catches subtle blue streaks in her long dark hair. “Ashan Glassheart, at your service. I do believe we shall be working together.”

“You in the habit of lurking around invisibly eavesdropping before introducing yourself?” Eris asks in a tone that Lacuna’s not quite sure what to make of. Whatever it is, it’s not how she expected her friend to greet their new teammate.

“My apologies,” Glassheart replies. “It was not my intention to spy. It is just that I had arrived earlier than I meant to, and when you arrived it seemed prudent to verify who you were before leaving the ward I had set up to avoid undue attention whilst loitering.”

“Huh, I think that might be the first time I’ve heard a mage apologize,” Eris says, “and the last time I worked with one he lit my hair on fire.”

“Yes, that does seem to be an unfortunate trend with most of this world’s spellcasters.”

“You’re from off-world?”

“Technically no, but practically yes. It is a long story.”

Eris relaxes. “Well, I’m sure we’ll be having plenty of time to swap stories later.” She steps toward the shorter woman and puts out a hand. “Name’s Eris. Sorry for the rude greeting.”

“My pleasure,” Glassheart says, shaking Eris’s hand.

“And that over there’s Lacuna,” Eris adds.

“Hi,” Lacuna says with a nervous wave after a moment’s delay of registering that she’s been addressed. There’s a pang of embarrassment as she realizes she’d been staring. Oh goddess, what she’d give to look like that.

“Greetings,” Glassheart says.

“Well, that’s us,” Eris says. “Don’t suppose you have any idea where Road and Sullivan are?”

“If I were to guess, I would say either in the building across from us or beyond this tree. The anchoring is loose over there and this tree is a bridge.”

“Know how to activate it?”

“Not yet.”

Eris grins and rolls her shoulders. “Well, there’s always the classic approach.” She knocks on the tree again, this time hard enough to set the boughs above shaking and to set Lacuna taking a few reflexive steps back. “Yo, Road! We’re here! Open up if you can hear us!”

No response.

“Does that normally work for you?” Glassheart asks.

Eris turns away from the newly debarked patch of trunk and puts her hands up in a shrug. “No, but it’s pretty great the times it does.”

Just then, Lacuna’s phone starts beeping.

“Sorry, sorry,” she says, looking down to fish the device out of her pocket. “That’s my ‘if we’re not there yet, we’re late’ alarm.” She taps the screen to stop the beeping and looks up to find herself alone on the sidewalk.

“Eris?” she calls out hesitantly. “Glassheart?”

No response.

She walks around the tree, giving the trunk a wide berth, but sees no one. Cautiously, she steps closer and reaches a trembling hand out to knock, only to pull back at the last moment. Backing away from the elm once more while still keeping an eye on it, she dials Eris’s number on her phone.

No response. Straight to voicemail.

She remembers she still has Road’s number. Chides herself for not calling them when she and Eris first arrived. Dials it.

“Hey Lacuna. Eris and Ashan are fine. Sullivan’s just being dramatic about the bridge. He’ll be back over in a second to pull you over too.”

Right on cue with Road’s voice the tree trunk ripples and a face breaks through the surface. It’s a very angular face; sharp cheekbones, pointed chin, even pointier beard. And in the spaces between the angles slicked back hair, dark eyes, and a smile like a devil sealing a deal.

The rest of the stranger’s body follows as he steps out of the tree. Embroidered yellow vest over a shirt with puffy sleeves. Tailored pants. Shiny shoes that look terrifyingly expensive.

“Lacuna, I presume,” he says. It’s a statement, not a question.

Lacuna nods, still holding the phone to her ear and more than a little unnerved to suddenly be alone with a man dressed vaguely like a vampire who just stepped out of a tree.

“Sullivan Bridgewood,” he says with a flourishing bow, “at my service.”

“At your service?” Lacuna asks, questioning the odd turn of phrase.

“Sounds like you’ve met Sullivan,” Road says from the other end of the still-active phone call. “It’s just a private joke of his. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Just a private joke of mine,” Bridgewood answers, “not anything you need worry about.”

“You’re a friend of mine, so you can trust him,” Road continues. “Now, this bridge crossing can be a bit weird on communication devices so you’re going to want to hang up before going through. I’ll see you on the other side.”

“Okay. See you in a minute Road,” Lacuna says - emphasizing their name while looking at Bridgewood - before hanging up. “So, how does this work?”

Bridgewood extends a hand, palm up. “Take my hand and I shall escort you as a guest into my home. Or I grab you and yank you through like I did with the others.” He chuckles and his smile that had been resting on the line between charming and unsettling tips toward the latter. “As fun as that was, my friend didn’t much care for the jape and asked me to be gentle with you. So a gentleman I shall be for the lady.”

Still a little creepy, but Lacuna trusts Road enough to put her paranoia aside and trust the man in front of her. The fact that even after a few years of transitioning being called a “lady” is enough of a delightful novelty to cloud her judgment more than she’ll ever admit goes a ways toward putting her at ease as well. And so she only hesitates a little when she takes Bridgewood’s hand and follows him into the tree.

The passage is a markedly different one from her experiences going in and out of Crossherd. With all of those, one moment you’re in one place and the next everything’s subtly shifted and you’re someplace else. Indeed, not noticing is often the trigger to activate those bridges. By contrast, walking into the rippling trunk of the elm feels enough like walking into water that she reflexively closes her eyes, holds her breath, and pinches her nose with her free hand before it hits her face.

To her surprise, the trip isn’t instantaneous. The feeling of being submerged lasts long enough that her lungs begin to burn. She forces herself to open her eyes but sees only darkness, not even her own outstretched hand that she can still feel Bridgewood holding. Whatever she’s submerged in doesn’t sting her eyes like water would, but as she tries in vain to see anything she feels a sudden increase in pressure as if the fluid were alive and actively gripping her.

Panic sets in and she begins to struggle, causing Bridgewood to tighten his grip on her hand. She closes her eyes again. Her held breath reaches its limit and she can no longer stop herself from gasping for air. She can breathe. The fluid does not rush into her lungs despite the feeling all over the exterior of her body. Relief at not drowning is offset by a growing sense that she is being examined. Assessed. Judged. Bridgewood’s grip tightens again, now painful. The pressure around her lets up.

The sudden return to light and air blinds her momentarily. Bridgewood lets go of her hand and she stumbles. Falls forward.

“Lacuna!”

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

“Is she quite alright?”

“What, never been through a secure transit before?”

The voices all overlap so that she has trouble parsing the words being said. She feels hands catch her and stop her fall. Her vision clears and she looks up to see the same warm, reassuring smile that comforted her on a stormy night years ago.

“You good?” Road asks.

Lacuna blinks as her eyes finish adjusting. She’s in a forest. She notices Eris standing nearby with an arm out awkwardly. Probably meant to grab her before Road beat her to it. Lacuna takes a deep breath to slow her breathing and stop the shaking. Shaking? When did that start? No, don’t focus on it. Focus on not doing it. Better yet, focus on anything else. Take another breath. Let it out.

“I’m good,” Lacuna answers. Road lets go and she stands upright, turns, and looks at Bridgewood. “What the heck was that?”

“Security system,” he answers casually, almost flippantly. “Only residents and guests are allowed through. As for anyone that forces open the entrance… Well, I was asked to be gentle so I’ll spare you the details of what would happen to them in transit.”

Lacuna tries not to shudder at the implication. “So where are we now?” she asks.

“Welcome,” Bridgewood proclaims while throwing his arms wide, “to the Bridgewood Estate!”

Road chuckles softly nearby. “And you accuse me of being a showoff.”

“What can I say, it’s been a long time since I had visitors. Now come along everyone. I’ll show you to the manor.” With that he begins walking off without so much as a backwards glance to make sure the others are following.

As they all walk, Lacuna takes some comfort in the fact that with the way Eris and Glassheart are looking around she’s not the only one gawking in amazement for once. It becomes obvious that the woods around her are more park than forest. The paths and undergrowth are well-kept, the trees are all evenly spaced, and most have small signs in front of them bearing either a single number, an X, or a question mark. Something else seems off about the trees too that Lacuna can’t quite place.

“Most of these trees shouldn’t be growing together,” Eris observes aloud. “You’ve got a white pine next to a mahogany, I’m pretty sure I saw a baobab back there, and,” she points at a nearby tangle of above-ground roots, “somehow you’re growing a mangrove without a coastline. I’m not going to ask how, because I know the answer is just going to be some magic BS, but why? Even with magic that still has to be a Hell of an energy expenditure to maintain.”

To Lacuna’s surprise, it’s Glassheart that answers the question in an awe-tinged voice. “They’re all bridges.”

“Right on the first try, wizard boy,” says Bridgewood. “We are right now walking through the eponym to the family name.”

Wait, wizard boy? But he’s so… Lacuna glances again at Glassheart practically gliding down the path before shoving down the implications of this particular case of gender envy for the time being. As it is, she’s already flustered enough to almost miss the ongoing conversation.

“So you’re saying each of these trees is part of a pair like the one we came in from,” Eris confirms.

“Most of them,” Bridgewood clarifies. “In some cases the other end of the bridge has been chopped down and made into something else and will spit you out into the biggest remaining piece. So far I’ve wound up accidentally breaking and entering four times that way and found myself in a ship at the bottom of the ocean twice ”

“You say that like you don’t know where they all go,” Eris says.

“My dearly departed wife preferred to memorize family secrets instead of writing them down. The signs are a recent addition.”

“Sullivan’s agreed to let us use the woods for transportation on quests,” Road chimes in, causing Bridgewood’s face to twitch on the last word. “We’ll be going back through another one once we pick up some things from the house and I brief you on what it is we’re actually going to be doing. And speaking of the house…”

As if on queue the group reaches the edge of the treeline, bringing a three-storied, multi-winged Victorian mansion into unobstructed view. What look like cat-sized spiders skitter about, trimming hedges and washing windows. As Bridgwood leads the party down the gravel pathway to the front door, the gazes of the marble statues they pass by follow them in a way that Lacuna can’t bring herself to believe is mere optical illusion. As Bridgewood steps onto the front porch the double doors begin to swing inward, but not quickly enough to keep him from pushing them the rest of the way open by hand upon reaching the threshold.

The entrance foyer is dominated by a grand staircase leading to the upper levels whose balconies wrap back around to look down on the visitors. Above the landing where the staircase splits and turns halfway to the next floor hangs a portrait of a woman in a blue dress of a style as antique as the house’s. Her smile at the viewer is playful. Playful in the same way that a cat is playful with a mouse. Several closed doors line the walls on either side between the entrance and the staircase, although those seem a background detail compared to the small pile of black crates and out of place chairs in the center of the hall.

As Lacuna files in last in line she glances back over her shoulder at the sound of the doors creaking closed behind her. They get about halfway shut on their own before getting stuck, causing a pair of those spider-like creatures - metal or maybe polished stone orbs with legs, she can see now that she’s up close - to scurry in from the shadows and push the doors closed the rest of the way. Bridgewood’s voice pulls her attention back to the center of the room before she can watch where the constructs retreat to once their task is done.

“Welcome to my home. Take a seat, because I don’t like any of you enough yet to give you the tour and we’ve got a job to get to.” He drops sideways into a seat with his legs hanging over the armrest and gestures to Road. “My friend, you take it from here. I might be hosting, but this is your show.”

“Thank you Sullivan,” Road says while taking a seat next to him in the circle around the crates. Lacuna finds herself sitting across from them, in between Eris and Glassheart.

“First off,” Road begins, “I want to thank the three of you for accepting my offer to be part of the founding party of this adventurers’ guild - ”

“We’re not calling it that,” Bridgewood interjects.

“ - and for showing up on short notice for this first quest.”

“Job,” Bridgewood amends.

“Mission?” Eris suggests.

Road shoots a look at Bridgewood who shrugs in response before continuing. “I know I was sparse on the details of this mission when I called you in yesterday, but that was because Sullivan and I have been spending the past twenty four hours gathering those details and making the necessary preparations so that we could act once the five of us were assembled.”

“I presume these are the fruits of those preparations,” Glassheart says while gesturing to the crates.

“Partly, but I’ll get to that,” Road answers. “Just after midnight yesterday morning an old friend of mine by the name of Lachlan Whelan whom I’ve helped before called me saying that he’d heard I was back in town and was hoping I could assist him again with an incident that had just occurred. Among other things, Lachlan mans a lighthouse that overlooks a stretch of coast notorious in certain circles for being a seaborne crossover point with other worlds. That night a ship appeared and immediately ran aground on what seems to be an island that appeared at roughly the same time. Our job - our mission - is to go out to the ship and rescue any survivors.”

“A day and a half is a long time to wait for a situation like that,” Glassheart says. “I am surprised you waited this long for us to arrive. From what I have heard of your reputation I would have thought you would have rushed straight in by now.”

“I would have if I could have,” Road says, “but the water there’s rough at the best of times and there’s been a storm blowing for the past three days. It’s taken me this long just to get my hands on a vessel that can make the short trip and be able to ferry who knows how many people back to shore safely.”

“Do we even know if there are any survivors?” Eris asks.

Road shakes their head. “No. Lachlan’s been keeping an eye on the ship since it showed up and he hasn’t seen any sign of movement. But the storm has made it hard to observe and if there’s any chance that even one person’s alive and in need of help it’s a chance we have to take.” Road pauses for a moment to look at the others and notices Lacuna shifting uncomfortably. “Lacuna, do you have something to say?”

“Well, it’s just….” She struggles to find the words. “Okay, please don’t take this the wrong way because I want to help, I really do, but why us? Surely there must be someone else already trained and equipped for this kind of thing, right? Government or something?”

“There should be, but there isn’t,” Road says with a hint of annoyance. Or is that anger? Somehow the idea of Road being angry feels disconcertingly unnatural to Lacuna. “At least, there isn’t any group like that Backstage who would be willing to intervene without an unconscionable amount of delays and red tape to get mobilized. And, there are other complications.”

“By ‘notorious in certain circles’ they meant ‘the crossing mainly gets used by smugglers and refugees,’” Bridgewood clarifies.

“That may be,” Road says, “but that doesn’t make them any less people deserving of help.”

“So, we’ve got a boat shipwrecked on an island,” Eris says, “both of which crossed over from some other world at the same time, a storm making it hard to do anything, no idea if anyone’s actually alive to rescue or what might the ship might be carrying, our own boat, a bunch of boxes of what I assume are relief supplies and maybe a couple of magic trinkets to help us out, and a fifty-fifty chance that anyone who is alive might try to repay our kindness by trying to shoot us to keep their smuggling route quiet and steal our rescue boat. Did I miss anything? Local sea monsters that might try to eat us or drag us under?”

“Only that it’s cold up there, even at this time of year,” Road says. “I suggest taking one of the coats from the supplies once we get there. I’ll admit, I wish I had more I could tell you all about the situation going in, but I think we’ve all been in more dangerous situations with less and gotten through alright.” They stand up and look at each of their newly gathered companions in turn. “So, are we all good to go?”

Lacuna quietly nods while Eris and Glassheart give their affirmations and rise to their feet in turn. She doesn’t trust her own voice not to waver in the face of what she’s gotten herself into. Bridgewood says something about a cart outside that she doesn’t really process until the others start picking up the boxes and carrying them to the door. She belatedly moves to join in but feels a hand on her shoulder right as she’s about to bend down to lift the nearest box.

“Not so fast techie,” Bridgewood says and then spins her around to face him. “I’ve got another job for you.”

“What? Er, what kind of job?”

“One that you’re actually qualified for.” He picks up a wide flat box that had been set to the side from the others and carries it over to a table against the wall where he pushes aside a vase to make room for the box with a marble-on-marble scraping sound that makes Lacuna’s skin crawl. “Go ahead, open it,” he says.

Lacuna obeys. “A laptop?”

“Not quite up to the specs you asked for, but it’s what I could acquire on short notice and will suffice for now.” He produces a USB stick from some unseen pocket and hands it over. “I’ve loaded this up with a list of tasks I want you to do, along with the installers and login info for the programs you’ll need.”

Lacuna looks from the USB stick in her hand to the laptop and back to the general direction of Bridgewood’s face. “Thanks,” she stammers, trying not to let her relief show too obviously.

“Free advice: Just leave the heroics to those three,” he says and points a thumb over his shoulder. “Focus on what you’re good at instead of trying to chase some fantasy that’s just going to make you into a liability for the rest of us to clean up after. After all, someone needs to run the website and file the paperwork.”

“Website?”

“Oh, and while you’re here alone, don’t go wandering off or touching anything. Especially not the statues. This place is bigger on the inside and some of the security systems are a bit finicky about distinguishing between intruders and guests. If you need the bathroom or something, just ask one of the cleaning golems and they’ll show you the way. Follow them exactly and don’t stray. I don’t want to have to explain whatever state we find your body in later.” With that last bit of advice he turns around on one heel and jauntily walks toward the door, waving goodbye without looking back and passing Eris on the way. “Have fun not drowning.”

Eris glances back over her shoulder at Bridgewood before stopping next to a suddenly far less relieved Lacuna. “Hey, sis, you alright? Do I need to have a talk with Sully over there?”

“No. I mean yes. I mean, fine. I’m fine. He was just telling me I’m going to be staying here and working on some IT stuff for him instead of going with you guys.”

“Oh, I can see how that would be a bummer. But it’s also more of what you were hoping to do, right?”

“Yeah. I guess it was.” It’s not what she had been distressed about a moment ago, but now that it’s been pointed out she does feel unexpectedly disappointed. What even was it she had been hoping to do here?

“Hey,” Eris says, getting her wandering attention again just before leaning in for a hug. “You rock and you’re gonna be running this whole operation behind the scenes by the time this is all over.”

“E…”

“Alright, that’s the last of them! Let’s roll!” Road’s voice calls from outside.

Eris releases her grip and steps back. “Gotta run. See you when we get back. Bye!” She’s already out the door by the time she finishes, leaving Lacuna alone in the foyer.

“Stay safe,” Lacuna whispers too late for anyone to hear.

<-Previous Chapter Masterpost Next Chapter->

#writing #original fiction #urban fantasy #Writeblr #WIP #Empty Names #serial fiction #writing practice #writers on tumblr #creative writing #literature #prose #writers #web novel #novel #fantasy #fiction #my writing #emptynameswriting #Excited to be posting new chapters again.#The more I write the more I like Eris and Lacuna's dynamic #and its parallels to Sullivan and Road's that I didn't intend when I started all this.#And the more I enjoy Sullivan being kind of terrible.#Unrelated to this but I'm also equally excited about entry for The Archivist's Journal that went up today.#That's starting an arc of sorts I've been looking forward to for a while with finally exploring some of the other islands in that world.#Should be fun.#Lots of boats in the near future for both stories.#Well like four boats total between the two of them.#It's funny. I talk about Empty Names a lot more these days but The Archivist's Journal is actually the story that means more to me.#Maybe I just want that one to be able to stand on its own without comment and let readers take from it what they will?

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theghostpinesmusic · 6 months

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I've been pretty obsessively watching Goose livestreams and archived concert videos since late 2019, but never really share much online about my enthusiasm for the band. Unless you know me in person or have listened to my currently-on-hiatus KTEC radio show in the past, you likely have no sense of how fully this band has completely taken over the Phish-shaped space in my brain over the last four years. And...maybe that's a good thing for you?

Part of the reason I don't post much about the band specifically (or the music I listen to in general) is that most people I know don't get the overwhelming level of joy out of live music that I do. Which is, obviously, fine. Different strokes for different folks and all that. The other part is that even those who like live music don't often go in for jam band music. There tends not to be a lot of actual crossover in the potential Venn diagram of people who freak out over getting to be in the stadium for one night of a Taylor Swift tour and people who freak out because this third version of "Arcadia" the band has played on this tour is *definitely* the best jam from the six shows they've attended over the last seven nights.

I mean, there's not *no* overlap, but...let's just say jam band fandom is kind of its own thing. It's sort of like being a baseball fan, but somehow nerdier. And your team never actually loses.

Anyway, long story short: I just happened upon this YouTube channel that posts webcast excerpts from Goose shows, which means I can write about and share some of my favorite recent performances without constantly dropping three hour long full-show videos that nobody is going to realistically watch into my feed.

Of course, it's possible that nobody is realistically going to watch a twenty-four minute video either, but shh...

I'm just finishing up catching up on the band's recent European tour, so I'm starting with this video, of "Madhuvan" from the opening show of the tour, which took place in Paris.

"Madhuvan" has long been one of my favorite Goose songs, partially because it's both a fun and interesting song musically and partially because I like the lyrics a lot as they speak to (as many of the band's songs do in some form) the transitory nature of life and the value of focusing on the present moment instead of on wealth, fame, popularity, or other similar things. If you're interested, the lyrics are here.

The "formal," composed part of the song in this video runs up through 6:50 and feels a bit more raw and rock-and-roll than usual. Either it's just my imagination, or it's the fact that the band was touring in smaller venues than usual throughout Europe and were all playing with at least somewhat stripped-down gear. Maybe it's both?! It's probably both.

Either way, after Rick's initial, brief guitar solo, we're off into the improvisatory part. Lately, it's felt to me like the band is deconstructing each version of "Madhuvan" that they play, trying to get more and more minimalist at the beginning of the jam and seeing what they can build up and into from (nearly) nothing. This version's no different in that regard.

The first little bit is what I often noncanonically think of as a space jam: there's no real melody or beat to follow, and everyone is just sort of chaotically throwing noises around to see what happens. This sort of thing can get kind of boring to me if it goes on for minutes at a time (The Grateful Dead's "Drums/Space" sequences have a mixed reputation for this reason), but here it's just brief bit of casting about and it's fun to be along for the ride. Then, around 8:30, a catchy riff that Peter is somehow playing both on his keyboard and guitar at the same time emerges and everyone else falls in musically around it.

This riff and Trevor's basslines lead the band along through a few minutes of this really unique musical space that, during my watch of the entire show a few weeks ago I thought of as "Evil Salsa." Like most jam bands, the "up front" melody instruments (guitars and keys) tend to overshadow the rhythm instruments in the mix during most of Goose's jams, and I'm a big fan of this section of this "Madhuvan" specifically because the percussion and bass are way more upfront than usual. I'm pretty much always going to enjoy hearing Trevor drive things.

The jam starts to metamorphose a bit around 13:00, as Rick starts chording a little more aggressively and Peter joins in shortly after. We're in a little bit more standard blues territory here, but the percussion stays in backbeat mode for a minute, producing some neat tension.

At about 14:00, the transition into the next stage of the jam is complete, and now we're in much more bread-and-butter territory for Goose: a major-key blissful gallop with Rick's guitar taking the lead. This is great, but it just kinda rolls along in the same vein for a bit, so I'll skip over picking through every detail...

It's at about 18:45 when Rick interrupts the gallop the band has going by holding on to a particularly grungy chord for a bit. The rest of the band immediately adjusts to reform the music around this move (this is the stuff I absolutely love hearing bands like this one do), and then shortly after we're off on another upbeat section of the jam that nonetheless has a bit of a noisier and messier inflection than the previous few minutes.

This bit roils along for a few minutes before Rick breaks the tension at 21:15 right after throwing a look at Trevor to warn him a key change is coming. This change resolves the tension of the previous jam space, making you feel suddenly relieved and happy even if you know literally nothing about music theory. If you're an absolute dork like me, you'll notice at this point that they're back in the key that "Madhuvan" starts in, which usually means it's about time to wrap things up.

There's a little more fun breakdown/tension action happening at 22:00, but we're otherwise locked in to the rush toward the song's composed conclusion at this point, so everyone's having a good time. The last minute or so is the song's typical ending.

I've really been enjoying watching the videos from the band's Europe tour, and this version of "Madhuvan" was probably the top highlight of the first night for me. For me, it's a song that a) is fun and well-written from a songwriter's standpoint as well as b) one that the band almost always seems to take as an opportunity to improvise outside of the kind of playing I usually hear from them. There's a lot of that in the first few minutes of the jam here, and then a lot more of that in the version of "Red Bird" that follows. I guess my only complaint about this video is that it's not the full Madhuvan > Red Bird combo from the Paris show :)

I'll be back before too long with some words (fewer than this time, most likely!) on the version of "Hot Tea" from the band's next night in Germany! Thanks for reading.

#goose #goose the band #live music #jams #videos #music #jam bands #writing #tour journal #Youtube

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