Iâve gotten a bunch of new followers over the past couple of months, so it seemed like a good time to do an intro post.
Iâm Nestra (she/her). Iâve been in fandom for...(math)...27 years at the moment and still have close friends from that first fandom, which was La Femme Nikita. You can see other fandoms Iâve been into by looking at my AO3 page. 911 is obviously the big one right now, and other ones that ate my life include Roswell New Mexico, Stargate Atlantis, Buffy and Angel, Firefly, Gilmore Girls...itâs an eclectic collection, is what Iâm saying.
Iâve been writing since the beginning and started vidding seven years ago. I cheerfully read and write gen, het, and slash, except Iâve been around long enough that those terms are outdated.
Iâm from the American South, a bisexual cis woman married to a man. Black lives matter, trans women are women, fuck the patriarchy, eat the rich, climate change is real, defund the police, vaccines are safe, and if youâre in the U.S. please register to vote.
Youâre always welcome to send me asks or prompts, though I make no promises.
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I've seen a bunch of "fandom etiquette" posts on my dash today and I'm going to say something that is maybe going to be unpopular but;
The absolutely pervasive mentality that unwanted criticism or critique shouldn't be given and should be ignored is why fans of color don't stay in fan spaces.
And I am not going to mince words here:
A lot of you are racist. A lot of your fan works are racist.
That might have been difficult to hear. And if it was, you should probably reflect on why that was.
"Fandom etiquette" has created a space where fans of color either bite our tongues and eventually leave or say something, get dogged on, and then eventually leave.
So much of "fandom etiquette" seems to be about insulating creatives from Feeling Bad and hostility to any kind of negative feedback is a pretty big contributor to why bigotry festers in these spaces.
#imo the potluck analogy applies- it would be rude to critique someone's icing technique at a potluck bc it wasn't as good as at the bakery #but if they had decorated their cupcakes w hate symbols it wouldn't be rude to tell them that's gross and gtfo #in fact it would be inappropriate to NOT say anything in that situation #or to complain that another guest who did point it out was 'ruining everyone's potluck' #and pointing out racism in fan works is 100% the second thing not the first! (via destructions-daughter)
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Is now a good time to say I think Buck has better deescalation skills than Eddie? itâs just that Eddie is less prone to reactivity and is a smooth talker so people put him in deescalation situations thinking he can handle it. And then he reveals himself as a crazy person. Frankly itâs a miracle heâs still alive.
no no you're absolutely correct and i think it's a broader tendency of how the world tends to view buck/eddie based on their initial impressions vs the way they actually are. like, eddie seems more levelheaded than buck at first glance, but that's mostly just a veneer for not only The Repression, but also a deep well of stubbornness that he does NOT compromise for anything. while he's good at presenting what HE thinks people want from him, he tends to be less good at actually reacting on a dime and shifting his stance based on what people ACTUALLY want from him, even when they're fairly straightforward about it. he also tends to fall back to snark and anger when he feels backed into a corner, which just feeds into his emotional loop.
in contrast buck tends to seem more volatile but that's more because he tends to talk his shit through out loud to people, in contrast to eddie. buck and eddie will both go through with insane suicidal plans but buck is much more likely to tell you about it first. buck also tends to be more sensitive to other peoples' emotions, for better AND for worse, and in the fight/flight/fawn framework his instinct is usually to fawn. he's less socialized in structured settings than eddie, but he was raised in the kind of volatile environment where he's learned to adapt very quickly and naturally to what he reads off of people, even though he's not necessarily very good at fitting himself in a specific role because he chafes against rigid structures.
thinking about mother's boy again, as one does, and i love so much buck's desperate bargaining for eddie's life, because it's not out of character at all. he's not giving up or giving in or admitting defeat. it's an absolutely calculated, clear-eyed assessment of the situation: eddie is alone, almost certainly unarmed, expecting no danger from bonnie or earl. if buck screams for help, she'll put a bullet in his head and then go out and do the same to eddie. if eddie knows he's there, he won't leave. bonnie can make him leave, and she will, as long as buck plays on her sympathies just right.
buck does not at that point realistically expect to survive. but his chances - of talking bonnie around, of another opening to escape - are better if eddie leaves now. and even if he doesn't make it out alive, he can make sure that eddie does. so that's what he tries to do.
(and yeah, of course eddie realizes he's there, of course they save each other in the end - but they were lucky, and it easily could have gone the other way.)
idk! i feel like it often gets treated as this Dark Night Of The Soul moment for buck where he gives up in despair because he doesn't think he's worth saving, but i don't think it is! i think it's the exact same ruthless pragmatism that drives a lot of buck's risky choices, and for that reason i actually also think that eddie, if he ever found out, would understand even if he hated it.
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my God it's not "weird and fetishy and heteronormative" to write strict bottomming and topping for hollanov oh my god some people in real life really do only just like topping or bottomming please I am BEGGING
Did they miss the fact that the showrunner is a gay man?
Even if the "I kind of prefer being the hole rather than the peg" line came from the book, originally, Tierney could have just left it out of his script. I sincerely doubt he signed some sort of legally binding document requiring that he keep it in there.
Folks can and should write whatever they want, but the show gives us a character with a very clearly stated preference. It's not weird to follow that.
Yeah, all of this. It's also weird to me that a lot of meta can't seem to let the characters have their preferences without "blaming" those preferences on past traumas. Like Ilya can't just like to top and not be interested in bottoming because that's what he likes, it has to be due to a bad past experience with bottoming. Not everything needs a reason! You can just like or not like something.
There's also this strange idea that in order to really "take care" of Ilya, Shane has to top, like that's the only way to achieve that particular goal? As if these two don't engage in plenty of variety in canon and there's something lacking that only this specific sex act can satisfy. Idk, it's just a vibe I keep getting and it's odd to me. There are plenty of ways Ilya can be vulnerable in bed without requiring penetration (which a lot of fandom still sees as the less powerful role or something, I guess??)
we gotta get back to torrent distribution, i just watched someone eat eight grand in bandwidth charges because they ran a direct-download piracy site with local file hosting through cloudflare. torrents were invented literally for this exact reason
i have a file or folder on my pc that i want to share with other people. let's call it gayshit.mp3
unfortunately gayshit.mp3 is 750mb and im not paying for discord nitro so i need another way to send it
i put it into qbittorrent and it makes a torrent file. this is essentially a very small file that points to gayshit.mp3 so other computers can find it. kinda like a treasure map
i send this tiny file to my friend, who loads it into qbittorrent. their computer takes a moment to find mine over the vast expanse of cyberspace and then (as long as my pc is running and the file is still where it should be), it gets copied from my hard drive to theirs
this is the cool part: if somebody else loads that tiny file, they can download it from both of us. if i'm offline but my friend is on, the third person can still get it. this also means that if two people have separate halves of the file, they can download the other half from each other. as long as some combination of people have the pieces between them, they can all have the whole thing.
crucially this does not require a server!!! you can just upload the file to a few people and as long as they keep it, it's still accessible. as long as somebody, somewhere is still connected, it's available forever. the only way it goes away is if everybody disconnects from it.
living in one of those free use public sex kinda hentai but no one wants to have sex with me so i mostly just stay home and post. i look outside and sigh wistfully at the sight of a woman getting eaten out so hard she somehow cums twice in one moment and then close my blinds so i can focus on cookie clicker
For @changingthingslikeleaves, who requested 'Robby/Jack, surprise.'
It took Jack until his third year at PTMC, when Lena brought in a pretty damn spectacular berry sheet cake for Adamson's seventieth, for him to realise that he hadn't a clue when Robby's birthday was. He'd known the guy three years, and he didn't think he'd ever heard a whisper about it. And sure, once you got to their age, not everyone was so fussed about birthdays, or cared to mix the personal with the professional. It wasn't as if Jack himself trumpeted his, or did much for it these daysâthough when Tanya was alive she'd always treated him to a nice dinner out during his birthday week, at some place where the cocktails were good and the desserts were decadent.
But colleagues still mentioned stuff in passing, like Dana's resigned tutting over being born on April 1 (How do you think I'm so good at knowing when someone's acting the fool, huh?) or when the new hire, Princess, crowed over the two coveted tickets her sister had given her to some long sold-out concert (Right up in front too, where I can flirt with the roadies!).
And it hadn't always been the case, but Jack and Robby hung out outside of work these days. They were past just colleagues. Jack was pretty sure that they'd even progressed beyond work friends to being friend friends. They grabbed beers at McConnell's, they traded off watching games at one another's places, they'd gone to listen to a few bands at that new PittFest thing that seemed to have been successful enough to turn into an annual event. Robby had even volunteered to help Jack when he decided on a whim to repaint his living room, and had navigated the hell that was a suburban hardware store on a weekend morning with him. That was real friends, Jack thought; that was buddies.
But in all the daysâweeksâmonthsâthat they'd been friends, never once had Robby said, yeah, finishing up early today for my birthday. Or, grabbing some drinks with friends this weekend for my birthday, you want to come with? Or, yeah, that's why being a leap year birthday kid sucked. Never even dropped a hint as to what season his birthday fell in.
Jack leaned against one of the work terminals, and ate his slice of Adamson's birthday cake, and considered this. It was of course possible that Robby had said something and Jack had just forgotten it, but he didn't think so. Robby had always been a bit of an attention-grabber for Jack, even back when he'd first arrived and Robby had made it silently, painfully clear that he thought that anyone who didn't come up through the ranks here had to prove their worth. Jack remembered all the things he learned about Robby.
Plus, while Jack didn't know Janey super well, she seemed nice. Last Thanksgivingâhis first without Tanyaâshe and Robby had insisted that Jack join them and her family for dinner. She'd been in her element cooking, baking, making sure everyone's glass was topped up; when he'd thanked her at the end of the evening, she'd assured him that she loved hosting people, the more the merrier. If Robby wanted a slap-up meal or a festive cake, Janey seemed capable of providing either. And at this point, Jack was pretty sure that if Janey was throwing any kind of birthday dinners for Robby that he'd be invited.
But no dinners, no parties, no cakes. No Robby taking the same weekend off three years in a row, which would at least give you a probability to work with.
Chances were good, Jack thought as he dropped his now-empty plate into the trash, that Robby was one of those people who wasn't just unfussed about his birthday, he very much didn't do birthdays. And Jack could allow that there were good reasons for someone to Not Do birthdaysâmaybe celebrating birthdays went against your religion; maybe when you were a kid a birthday clown had slaughtered your entire family in front of your eyes; you could never know someone else's struggleâJack had the suspicion that Robby had no overt reason to gloss over his own birthday other than his fundamental, stubborn Robbyness. Robby clearly felt that he had to be the kind of person who Didn't Do Birthdays.
And fuck that, Jack thought. Life was short. Why let stubbornness get in the way of delicious baked goods?
Jack ambled down the back hallway to Adamson's office, and found him sitting at his desk and frowning at something on his computer screen. Next to him was a half-eaten paper plate of cake, and the small party hat that Lena had made him wear while everyone warbled their way through 'Happy Birthday.' Jack rapped gently on the door frame, and when Adamson looked up, said, "Many happy returns. You want me to sing 'Hail to the Chief' or something?"
"I thought only good things were supposed to happen to me today," Adamson said dryly, looking at Jack over the tops of his glasses.
If Adamson found it strange that one of his attendings would stop by his office an hour into the shift to ask when another attendings' birthday was, he didn't pass comment on it. "June 4."
Five days from today.
"Cool," Jack said, and got back to work.
A younger Jack would have schemed about throwing Robby some kind of surprise party: one with cake and booze and a kick-ass playlist. A much younger Jack would have thrown him one with cake and booze and a stripper, because boobs were awesome and because much younger Jack had been a little asshole who thought that making it through basic training meant that no one else could tell him shit. The Jack of 2019 understood that a full-on party was not the way to go with Michael Robinavitch, plus or minus anyone's boobs. His instincts suggested something else.
Robby's birthday fell on a Tuesday. He wasn't rostered to work, and so Jack gambled that around about nine, he'd find Robby doing his fine-weather, day-off usual: sitting out on his porch with a cup of coffee, lingering in the quiet with Jake gone to school and Janey at the office. And at 9:05, Jack rocked up to find that his gamble had paid off. There was Robby, long legs folded up to let him perch in one of the Adirondack chairs, his bedhead all wild and a thick paperback in his lap.
"What are you doing here?" Robby said, brow furrowed, when he caught sight of Jack. "Is everything okay, isâ"
"Bzzt," Jack said, sitting down in the chair opposite Robby's and set the bag he was carrying down on the table between them. "Give me a sec, got to get something set up. Close your eyes."
"What?"
"Robby."
"Fine," Robby said, sounding like he did not think this was fine.
Jack emptied the bag of the box, the candles, the lighter, the napkins, the knife and forks, the plates. He arranged them; he unboxed the cake. There were four candles, and now he set one in precise alignment on each corner of the cake, which he'd custom-ordered from that really good bakery over in Lawrenceville. Not a sheet cake large enough to feed multitudes, the way Lena's had, but just the right size to be savoured by Robby himself and containing flavours that Jack knew Robby loved: honey and apricot and hazelnut.
He lit the candles, shoved the lighter into his jeans pocket, and said, "Okay, eyes open. Surprise, birthday boy."
Robby, clearly startled, looked from the cake to Jack and back to the cake. "How did you know thatâŠ"
Pleased, Jack tilted his chin up and murmured, "I have my ways."
"It's a cake," Robby said, sounding way too bewildered. You'd swear his parents had never bought him one back in the day.
"Yeah, it's a cake," Jack said, "because it's your birthday."
"But I'm not⊠but it's notâŠ" There was a flush over the high points of Robby's cheekbones.
"Nah," Jack said, "let's not finish either of those sentences. Happy birthday, brother, blow out your candles, make a wish."
Robby did; and they shared the cake, which was fucking delicious; and sat there shooting the shit and drinking some more coffee until Jack's night shift well and truly caught up with him and he had to head home to bed; and somehow there on that porch, on that morning, a custom was formed. It would last through the pandemic, and Robby's break-up with Janey, and Robby becoming Chief, and every other high and low bout of sheer fucking weirdness in their lives: on Robby's birthday, Jack would show up with cake.
Sometimes it was in the morning, sometimes it was in the evening, and once it was at two in the afternoon, sitting on the low wall next to the ambulance bay with the reek of blood and antiseptic in their nostrils. But Jack always showed up, with cake and with no other acknowledgement of the day beyond, "Happy birthday, brother, blow out your candles, make a wish."
So maybe it shouldn't have been too much of a surprise when on one of those days, Robby made his wish and ate his cake and then sat there for a moment staring down at his hands before saying, "You, uh, you want to know what I wished for?"
Jack finished the last bite of his own piece and said, "Lay it on me."
"I wished for⊠What I want isâŠ" Robby huffed out a sigh, rubbed at the nape of his neck, said, "Fuck me, why is this so hard?"
"Why is what?"
"I just⊠c'mere," Robby said, and sighed again, and pulled Jack closer, and Jack didn't know what the fuck Robby was yapping aboutâeverything about their first kiss was easy; everything about it was honey on Jack's tongue.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: 9-1-1 (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Additional Tags: Video, Embedded Video, Subtitles Available, Download Available, Sexuality
Series: Part 19 of Vids by Nestra
Summary:
Gay or straight, straight or gay, itâs all okay.
*
This is a revised version of a vid posted on Tumblr a couple of months ago.
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reading a âthere was only one bed ficâ and the characters have decided to share the bed as long as they stay on their sides. iâm really glad they figured that whole mess out and am excited to read about them staying on their sides of the bed until morning^-^
