Sleepy!Buck
noise dept.
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let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

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@livesincerely
Sleepy!Buck
Ilya is so lucky that Shane proposed. Ilya would have been a nervous fucking wreck for the entire day beforehand. Wake up in the morning. Look in the mirror. Today's the day. Sob. Breathe. Okay I'm good! Turn around and Shane's hair is all in his face, still asleep on Ilya's pillow. I am NOT good. Cold shower. Breakfast that Ilya does not eat. Morning jog wherein Ilya runs like someone is chasing him. Lunch that Ilya does not eat. Drive out to the cottage. Make Shane pull over because Ilya needs to dry heave on the side of the road. "Baby we don't have to drive out today if you're not feeling well." "NO WE HAVE TO." Get to the cottage. Immediately send Shane on some kind of extended fool's errand. Shane wants to stay because Ilya is SHAKING and he is so worried. "No my love I'm fine it's just the breeze off the lake haha." It's thirty fuckig degrees Celsius. Shane finally gtfo's. Yuna, David, Rose FUCKING Landry all descend to help Ilya set up. Well. Ilya is supposed to be helping but he is standing on the deck fully dissociating. Yuna brings him tea. "Are you going to throw up the tea?" "Yes probably." Yuna takes away the tea. 800 electronic tea lights on the deck. In a parallel Ilya has no way of understanding, he both puts on and takes off a suit. Yuna fixes his curls into the hockey boy quasi-mullet that magnetizes Shane's fingers to Ilya's hair and says, "Oh, you're so handsome!" Ilya cries big fat tears. David tells a story about how his proposal to Yuna almost didn't happen because David went to the hospital for heart palpitations that morning. Thank You David That Does Not Help Even Remotely. Ilya slav squats on the lawn for twenty minutes. Shane's car pulls up in the driveway and everyone hides while Ilya vibrates in the entryway. Shane has no less than thirty grocery bags hanging from his arms, still complaining about why the grocery service cancelled their delivery last minute. Ilya leads Shane and all thirty of his grocery bags onto the deck. Shane is doing his favorite thing (bitching) and his second favorite thing (Follow Ilya) so he doesn't notice his own mother tiptoing behind him collecting the grocery bags he drops like breadcrumbs. There is an Oscar-winning actress hiding under his sofa and Shane does not notice because Ilya takes him on the deck and drops to his knees and Shane is like, "Haha, right now?" and then he sees that Ilya has a look on his face like he's just been told the sun is never coming up again and he has his hands on Shane's knees and he is saying, "Shane. Please?" and Shane puts his hands on his head and says "Oh my God baby what's happening to you" as Ilya melts and melts and then from the depths of the cottage someone who sounds a lot like Shane's very own father is whispering "The ring the ring" and when he looks back down Ilya is fumbling a ring box out of his pocket. The first picture of their proposal is Shane glaring into the middle distance with a hand cradling Ilya's curls like a baby while Ilya ugly sobs into his knee.
biblically accurate ilya rozanov proposal
Sometimes, fanfiction is carefully plotted out stories, with plot points and call backs and themes that all tie it up in a meaningful and exciting way.
And sometimes fanfiction is, ‘Watch me do a fucking KICK FLIP off this cool sentence!! Also here's some sex'
Both are beautiful forms of writing.
time loop with an extremely mundane trigger. you’re stuck in the loop until you finally remember to send an important email before midnight. or until you take the weeks old pile of clean laundry off your computer chair and fold it
guy who spends ~100 loop days trying to break out by accomplishing insane feats. completes his bucket list. assassinates a fascist political figure. mends their broken relationships. finally escapes the loop by getting an oil change
things in fic I'm used to people kind of faking their way through writing about:
the city of los angeles
the city of new york
sex
how drinking alcohol works
how getting high works
how a child of any age speaks
how nuclear physics work
how [my job] works
how debilitating being shot in the shoulder is
how hypothermia works
things I have never before seen someone fake their way through writing about, until today:
what french toast is
read through the notes on this one trust me
Here's some of the notes, starting with the things multiple people brought up:
SHRIMP COCKTAIL:
banahbanah: #flashback to that one fic where Peter Parker frets about drinking shrimp cocktail because of the alcohol
generaldeliciousness: adding: what a prawn/shrimp cocktail is
#why is your character turning it down because they're under 21 #do you think prawn cocktail is a cocktail #this lives in my brain rent-free constantly #the rest of the fic was so normal #and good enough that i'll still re-read it #but bro
And then many, MANY, people wondering if this was actually authour mistake, since Peter really would do this!
POMEGRANATES:
zhajhassa: #haha where's that post that was like someone describing someone eating a pomegranate but they ate it like an apple
thornhands: #once someone wrote persephone biting into a whole Pomegranate #had to stop and stare at a wall for a minute
sungsingsanguine: I once saw someone very confidently write about a character eating slices of pomegranate.
FRUIT TREES:
zagreuses-toast: #given a very endearing glimpse into a writers blindspots by seeing them describe someone sitting under a ''pineapple tree''
salatrash: I remember something about picking watermelons... OF A FUCKING TREE
baander: #cranberry trees
DOUGH/BATTER:
maycelium: #I'm a chef so I'm really used to people not accurately describing how to cook food #But I was surprisingly flabbergasted when someone was writing making a cake and was kneading it. Which uh #Not necessary for cake. It was interesting for sure but just bizarre
livebloggingmydescentintomadness: #the one that drove me nuts was when a character set aside a batch of PASTA DOUGH 'to rise' #pasta doesn't have yeast!! #it does need to REST but it will never RISE #you do not want an airy crumb on your noodles
lovesodeepandwideandwell: #THE ONE WHERE THEY MADE COOKIES BY LADLING BATTER INTO A TRAY
Some other topics:
I don't need therapy I need rabid gay people freaking out in my inbox
"I'm lying to you but this sentence is technically the truth without context" is such a good trope. Like yes the way that I am spinning these words forms a lie but if you squint I'm actually not lying.
eddie wakes up in the middle of the night to his phone ringing and his stomach is already sinking before he sees the name on the screen because it's not buck's ringtone. because the only person who could make a phone call in the middle of the night not terribly wrong is buck. buck forgetting that eddie isn't on the same 24-hour shifts with him anymore and calling him in the locker room to tell him about how crazy their last call was. buck remembering last minute about some wikipedia fact that he wants to make sure eddie told chris about, even though he already texted the article to chris. buck calling just because, just for, just a voice on the other end of the line who eddie uses to remember how to breathe, sometimes.
but it's not buck calling him, it's maddie, and there are no baseball bats in his room in el paso but he can feel the holes crumbling open in his walls anyways. he doesn't want to pick up the phone. he picks up the phone.
"eddie," maddie says, her voice strange and uncanny through hundreds of miles. he doesn't hear maddie's voice over the phone, unless he's facetiming with buck and she's in the background and buck tells her to say hi and she does, with a roll of her eyes and a smile caught in her voice shared between the two of them, the one that says hi, hello, what a ridiculous person it is that we love, what a wonderful thing it is to be loved by him.
her voice doesn't sound like that now. it's trembling, a little, shaky at the edges. the first responder worn down into something like a fissure in a shard of glass, and eddie is already prepared for the sharp edge to bleed him dry.
"maddie?" he says, because that's what you're supposed to say when you don't know already that the world is breaking in some way. because eddie is good at pressing the blindfold over his eyes and pretending he hasn't already tripped off a ledge into a long, long fall.
maddie inhales shakily over the line. "i-- i didn't want you to find out from the news," she says, then falls silent for a moment. "there was a call, and--"
and maddie is calling eddie now. in the middle of the night. maddie's face appeared on his phone screen, instead of the picture of buck smiling in his apron and glowing in the kitchen light. eddie knows. eddie doesn't want to know. he doesn't want to know.
"no," he says, and maddie's words falter, stop. the silence hangs between them, a blade hovering above his throat, the executioner's axe for every one of his sins. "no, maddie, don't--"
don't do this to me. not now, not here, not while my body is alive and breathing and his isn't. don't do this when my son is sleeping down the hall and has to wake up in a world where half of the world beneath his feet will suddenly be gone. don't do this when i can't crawl beneath his corpse. don't. don't. don't.
"eddie," maddie says again, and eddie wants to throw his phone at the wall like a child, make a world where the words won't come true if he never hears them.
"i can't," he gasps, and every breath is hitched, because the person who reminded him of how to breathe is not on the other end of the line.
"i'm sorry," maddie says, and there are real tears in her voice now, a sort of helplessness. she doesn't know how to help him through this. the person who does is not here. eddie has to do it himself, the way he's almost forgotten how to.
eddie closes his eyes, presses his hand over his mouth. maddie lets him shake for a moment, two.
"tell me," he says.
her voice is gentle. "i'm sorry, eddie. bobby's gone."
and for a long, terrible second, all eddie can feel is the air rushing back into his lungs.
Oliver Stark & Ryan Guzman at Rescueverse Nashville
i'm noticing a pattern
inspired by this post by @stationoneeighteen
Normalize leaving unhinged comments on ao3 fics you like. I'm tired of being the only one brave enough to write "I am chewing on this fic" in the comment section. Be weird. Authors will love you for it
If I didn't want readers to chew on it, I wouldn't have spent all that time on the mouthfeel
im looking for yall
i want to read but i also want to write but i also want to read but i also want to write but i also want to—
get to know me: favorite characters [3/5]
Eddie Diaz
Y'all are acting like a bunch of viejas.
buck and eddie got v close to sexting when he was in elpaso and they haven’t talked about it since
i think it started innocently enough... eddie in bed in el paso and they had been talking all day and now he is texting about some argument he had and how he can't sleep and how usually him and buck go for drives when he can't sleep and he says i wish u were here bud... and Buck says me too... maybe i am. we can pretend.. id pick u up. we'd go for a drive.... and eddie replies there's a great place to park. I'll show u where it is we can look out over the city... and they go back and forth...until eddie says its cool up here at night.. u forgot ur jacket. again :) …and Buck says its ok im just scooting over and sticking my hands in your hoodie pocket... and eddie says well cmere., i miss the smell of your cologne anyway...….and slowly slowly it gets a little more intimate..... until buck loses his nerve...navigates out of it.. delicately enough...
welcome to 911blr !
pt.19 / ?