#and again there are other people who can talk about this better than i can because i am very much a white person
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chaoskirin · 2 days ago
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You know what's funny is I've warned against some of the shit this site shills as OK. It was so enraging like 6 or 7 years ago when I posted something like "yeah never leaving someone alone after they fuck up is probably bad actually" and got called... IDK the word at the time, but something like an apologist.
And again, I'm gonna point this out: Seeing everything in black and white with no greys in the middle IS THE PROBLEM. Not just "A" problem, but THE problem among leftists.
I'm gonna go ahead and use Arin Hanson as an example again, because there's drama about him on Twitter again, but people still want to "remind" his fans about the stupid shit he did in his life ten or more years ago. You don't have to do that, I fucking promise. You don't. You don't have to like him or be his biggest stan if you don't want to, but CHRIST. Shut the fuck up. You HAVE to give people room to change and grow, or what is this all for?
"But what if ______ said something racist?"
Are they actively doing it now? Are they doing racist things? Are they causing harm? No? Then SHUT UP. You don't have to tell everyone who posts about _______ that they said something stupid 10 years ago.
I also follow someone on Twitter who fucked up in a huge way and JUST posted some racist shit. It was unintentional and came from a place of severe misinformation, and he apologized as soon as he realized he fucked up and even RT'd the people who corrected him, but there are STILL PEOPLE commenting on his posts with "are you going to address this" and... just fucking SHUT UP. There is a really clear line between holding someone accountable and harassment. You HAVE to learn to tell the difference.
And I can't believe I have to say this because someone will misconstrue this, but holding people accountable is good. It is. I get it. You want to point things out and demand better. That is good for society. But if you see people have already pointed it out by the dozens, or sometimes hundreds, you can just... not support that person.
There's this thing on the internet where if you don't explicitly state that you DON'T support something, then you MUST support it. And those people also need to shut the fuck up. Sometimes it's the dogpiling that pushes people away from reflection, especially when there are also a ton of comments that say things like "don't listen to them. If you ever need to talk, I'm here."
Who do you think that person is going to for help? The person calling them horrible, or the person offering them comfort?
I fully expect to get asshole asks like "oh so you support racism" and here's a pre-emptive "fuck you" for deliberately misinterpreting what I'm saying. Unfollow and block me rather than sending me dipshit asks.
I'm done with all of you.
I'm especially done with the pissants who saw me say "Kamala Harris is probably better for the country than Donald Trump" and sent me asks saying I was a fucking genocide apologist. You see what your bullshit got you? Fuck you. Now we have someone who'll not only support the Palestinian genocide, but will likely do other terrible shit, as well. And even though Palestinians begged you to vote for Kamala Harris, you just had to virtue signal to the world that you were just so gosh darn progressive.
I am saying this all from the bottom of my heart. Stop pushing people away. Stop seeking perfection in every person on the internet. You will NEVER find it, and not only will you spend your life angry, but you'll spend your life fucking things up for everyone else.
posts about the alt-right pipeline being compassionate towards young men while radical leftists shun and shame them are not fucking saying "the men are becoming violent because feminists are too mean!" and if that is your takeaway you need to get off tumblr until you've better honed your critical thinking skills.
those posts are talking about how effective the language and approach you take in your activism can be. this is literally cult deprogramming 101. if someone is being taken in by a violent or dangerous group, that violent or dangerous group is usually offering them compassion and solace while working hard to convince them everyone else in the world is their enemy. you are under no obligation to coddle or act compassionate toward these men and their violent ideologies, but if you have the means to try, it is something that you can do to make a tangible difference.
radicalized people are often only one loving friend or family member or external voice away from being de-radicalized. of course that is not always the case, but it very often is. a lot of y'all rightfully understand that you do not carry the burden of being that voice, but a lot of y'all also have a lot of internalized ideas about morals and punitive justice and have simply written off these people as deserving of only the worst and not worth saving.
ten years ago, my grandmother was a fox news watching republican who voted red in every election and very well could have fallen down the qanon rabbit hole if not for me and her daughter challenging her compassionately, walking her through hypotheticals that validated her feelings & proving why they were false, & being patient with her despite our extreme division in political ideology. it was frustrating fucking work! but i decided i wanted to do it, because i could see the horizon and i could see me making a difference!
"misogynists have been saying feminists are too mean for years, get new material" that is not the fucking POINT. the point is that you, feminist, can be the compassionate voice that guides your brother, your father, your cousin, your grandfather away from fucking becoming or staying a nazi. you can show them compassion and companionship. you can be the woman they think of when their alt-right bros try to convince them that women are the enemy. and you can choose to crystallize that image of yourself so wholly in their mind's eye as worth protecting that they may very well choose to reject those harmful ideas.
it's not saying you HAVE to do it! it's saying you CAN do it! don't you 'firebomb a walmart' people all love taking change into your own hands? where the fuck is that energy right now, huh?
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buckevantommy · 21 hours ago
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Everyone's always telling Buck what he should do. Okay, sometimes he did ask for their advice, but every piece of advice he's followed through on lately has ended badly and everything they tell him to do he doesn't actually want to do.
He should want to do something if it's supposed to make him feel better, if it's supposed to be better for him, right?
Josh told him to bulldoze ahead and tell Tommy what he wanted. Tommy told him to re-enact his Buck 1.0 days and spend time with some indeterminate amount of people until he finds someone forever. Maddie and Chim told him to start dating again and also wait for the universe to bring him someone special; another someone. Hen and Eddie told him not to contact Tommy.
He doesn't want to do any of that! He wants to talk to Tommy, to see him, to get Tommy to talk to him instead of giving up on them and running away because he's scared. He wants to tell Tommy he loves him. He wants Tommy to know first and last aren't mutually exclusive. He wants to yell at Tommy, and kiss him, and hold him. He wants Tommy to apologise for breaking his heart and for being a dumbass. He wants Tommy to believe him when he says he won't do the same; well, he might be a dumbass sometimes - but he would never break Tommy��s heart. He wants to apologise for jumping ahead but also not have to apologise for wanting a life with Tommy or for being too much.
Since that first night Tommy kissed him, he's felt reborn. Not in some starry-eyed way that Tommy seems to think is fake and won't last, but in the way that he's shed the skin of past Buck upgrades and finally grown into his body, become comfortable in who he is instead of trying to fit a facade that other people would accept. Always too big, too much, not enough, never content to just sit in his self and be without his worries and insecurities moulding him into something else, something with a better chance of getting people to like him, love him, stay with him. 
He’s never felt more himself or more at ease in a relationship that meant something to him than he did with Tommy. Never felt more wholly seen - the good, the bad, and the too-much and not enough - by his partner and adored anyway, wanted anyway.
Halfway through making swiss meringue buttercream instead of breakfast, he realises he's thinking about Tommy. His coping skill, as Bobby called it, has stopped working.
There's butter and sugar in the creases of his hands and nailbeds even after he hurriedly wipes them with the dishcloth over his shoulder. He can see it as he scoops up his phone from the charger and thumbs over to his message thread with Tommy, leaving greasy crumby residue on the screen.
i saw you bubbling
After it happened, after the Chief distracted everyone enough for him to grab his phone and retreat somewhere he wouldn't be disturbed, he'd stared at the space where the unsent message had appeared for twenty minutes waiting for the type bubble to reappear. Waiting for Tommy to hit send on whatever he'd backtyped.
Buck's mind had spiralled with all the possibilities and while it spiralled and he stared and waited he never got around to actually calling or texting Tommy himself. And then the bell rang.
He has time, now. He has things he wants to say.
you were going to tell me something an maybe i wont like what it was but just knowing you almost reached out is kinda driving me crazy bc i have a fridge full of baked goods bc everytime i think about calling you i bake and now i havnt cooked a proper meal in my own place in over a week bc i dont have room in my damn fridge to store anything besides chocholate chip bananan bread and baked alaskas
He wants to say: and it's all your fault! but that's not the whole truth. Buck played his part in this, set the wheels in motion that drove Tommy away from him. But how the hell was he supposed to know that? And Tommy should've known by now he doesn't really do 'slow'.
i'm not sorry for being too much bc i shouldnt haveto apologize for being myself
Screw it. Can't get any worse, right? Tommy's getting all of him whether he likes it or not.
i dont see you as some queer life coach or someone to fill space until someon else comes along
thats not who i am
i thought you knew me better than that but whatevr ig
i wanted to live with you bc i want a life with you bc i love you
i love you
i shouldve said that first
Send after send, typing like a man possessed, he gets out everything that's been pent up inside him since the shock wore off a week ago.
His chest is heaving as the adrenaline rushes through his veins. And his eyes sting. He has to blink away tears as he reads over the last message.
He never told Tommy. Tommy doesn't know. Maybe Buck wasn't sure that night Josh asked him, but he knows it now.
i wanted you to be my last
He still does.
i wanna hate you for giving up on us
but i cant seem to hate you
This whole thing would hurt a lot less if he could just hate Tommy for what he did. It would hurt a lot less if they could find a way through this mess, together, and come out the other side stronger because they know each other better and know they want to fight for what they have.
Real love is worth fighting for. Red taught him that. Real love isn’t found, it’s made. Old gay Thomas taught him that.
Well, Buck found Tommy. Or, the universe did. And he’s going to fight, dammit, because he wants to build a future with Tommy. 
His vision has blurred with hot tears. Movement on his screen catches his attention from where his gaze had drifted over to the couch where Tommy had stayed to take care of him through his Billy Boils saga.
Tommy is bubbling him.
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Buck’s heart lurches in his chest. His breath catches.
can we talk?
There’s a huff of something like manic laughter as he swipes at his snotty nose.
that’s what i typed
Hope blooms in his chest, sudden and bright and painful in the best way.  
can we?
I think I owe it to you to yell at me in person
There’s a long moment where Buck tries to return his breathing to normal but its bated as he watches three little dots appear, then disappear. 
Then reappear. 
Then disappear.
Then:
I don’t want to give up on us either
Buck’s tears are still making his vision watery, but now they’re tears of joy. He did what he wanted to do - he reached out. And Tommy heard him.
He should take his own advice more often.
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gaywineauntsstuff · 3 days ago
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I love the idea of Dick being all the Batkid's favourite sibling but in violently different fonts.
Jason: Dick and Jay canonically have a pretty solid relationship but i'm partial to the Jason was around for Dick's rebellion stage and so Dick doesn't think he has to worry about the pedestal thing bc Jason has absolutely seen him violently hungover before he was legally allowed to drink font of this
So by the time Jason comes back and is no longer trying to murder Tim (except psychologically) Dick decides... Well he's evil sometimes but also I can finally tell someone all the Titans drama. So him and Jason meet up like once month if they're in the same city and get progressively drunker while shit talking their teams and Bruce.
Also I hate the Dick and Robin!Jason didn't get along. They absolutely did, Dick was like 0.5 seconds away from taking Jason to live with the titans permanently.
Tim: 'Oh Jason is Tims Robin, Oh Dick betrayed Tims trust.' in the name of the orange dude y'all elected twice W R O N G. Tim Drake used to watch VHS tapes of the flying Graysons routine. He wasn't even a batman Stan first. That came after he saw Robin do a quadruple summersault. Tim is a Dick Grayson fanboy first Person second. Like Tim canonically saw Jason die and went lmao skill issue, imagine not being like Dick Grayson i'm better. When Dick first started training him, he'd consistently excuse himself go to the other room, hyperventilate over Dick Grayson teaching him how to train surf. Dick is not just his idol he's also a pretty substantial part of Tim's support system. He calls Dick when he's going through something or is stuck on a case. And he knows that Dick will always have his back. They have like the unrealistic adorable sibling relationships from Tv that don't exist irl. Tim also does that awkward shuffle thing after fights bc they're still siblings and Dick just pretends the fight didn't happen until Tims calm again
Damian: You have to understand Damian thought he'd have to basically do the league all over again. He lands with Bruce and those ideas are soundly rejected and he now has no trust or respect and he has to adjust. And Bruce is doing his holier than thou, you should know better 10yro who literally was brainwashed as a child act, like Tim didn't have to pull him away from straight up becoming a villain and Dick didn't have to put him in his place with his fists a couple times a year (we love Bruce really). Then Bruce gets Time-streamed, Tim runs away and now the circus freak is BATMAN. Except the circus freak is also a sadistic bastard to criminals, despite being made out of marshmallows to you. Dick hangs people upside down off high buildings for information and cackles as Nightwing. He also listens to Damians worries and helps him deconstruct his bias view of the world. Dick canonically set the standard for child heroes and is among one of the most beloved and trusted heroes despite being marshmallowy and refusing to murder people. Dick is kinda like Damians stand in non pretentious moral compass until he learns his own one later on. Hence why Damian adores Dick Grayson more than anyone really.
in summary support my agenda that Dick and Jason are gossipy drinking buddies, Tim absolutely had a Dick Grayson Shrine as a child and Damian calls Dick to double check that he still cannot kill Timothy (its now entirely a joke.... mostly)
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luvergirl-866 · 1 day ago
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something like love
part - 4
pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd
word count - 5.3k
c/w - language, small amount of angst, some hurt/comfort. also kinda problematic paige but i get her
a/n - guess who’s endo cramps are killing her!! that’s right, me! fml. as usual this is unedited but i’ll come back to edit later! also, i changed paige’s step-dad’s name from tim to dean because i remembered that azzi’s dad is named tim and i felt like that would be confusing lol. also, thank you so much for all the fic recs i got! i’m so excited to start working on them :3
They’re ten minutes into the thirty-minute car ride and nobody has said a word. Country music is playing quietly over the radio, and Dean and Amy keep glancing at each other. But the awkward silence is deadly.
Nobody spoke earlier, either. After Paige dropped the bomb. It was silent for a good minute before Dean had coughed loudly and turned back to the car, getting wordlessly into the driver’s seat. Amy stared at them for another minute or so, giving them no clue as to what was going on in her head other than her ears, which rapidly turned bright red. Finally, she’d shook her head and said, “We will talk about this when we get home,” before following her husband into the car.
As soon as they were both out of hearing range, Paige had sagged, and Azzi’d looked over at her, concerned. Usually, she’d lay a hand on her arm but she wasn’t sure if Paige wanted to be touched, especially by her, so instead she’d said, “Remember, we can leave anytime.”
Paige had nodded stiffly. And then, without looking at Azzi, she’d gotten into the car as well, leaving the door open for Azzi to follow suit.
And now they’re on the road, Paige and Azzi sitting in the back seat like two little kids in trouble. Azzi wants to go on her phone to avoid the awkwardness but her parents raised her to be polite, no matter the circumstances, so here she sits, stiff and awkward while she rides in this car that smells new and fancy and she hates it.
Chancing a glance over, Azzi sees that Paige is still staring out the window, the same thing she’s been doing the whole car ride, and Azzi hates that, too, because Paige only ever gets quiet when she’s bone-tired or truly upset. And Paige got a pretty good nap on the plane.
Based off the way she acted to Azzi’s words before they got on the road, Azzi’s pretty sure she’s doing that thing where she shuts people out because she’s mad or on the verge of tears or thinking too hard. And when she does this she can get mean, because she’s trying to protect herself, and it comes out all wrong.
She’s always done this, been reluctant to open up about the hard stuff, shut out the people who care about her. She and Azzi have talked about it a lot. She once admitted that Azzi was the first person to get her to actually talk about her feelings. But despite Azzi’s way with Paige, and despite the fact that they just get each other in a way no one else ever has, they still have their flaws. Azzi still doesn’t always know the right thing to say. And Paige still gets mean.
This fact keeps Azzi glued to her seat, thinking sidling closer and trying to comfort her best friend would only end badly. Azzi acts like she has a tough skin but often, the things Paige says when she gets like this cut deep, and it ends with both of them hurt. She’s scared to add a fight between the two of them onto whatever will surely go on with Paige and her parents later. So she stays put, even though every bone in her body is telling her to make Paige better.
Azzi has only managed this for maybe five minutes when she glances over again and notices that this time, Paige’s hand is splayed over the middle seat, fingers tapping anxiously, almost like she’s subconsciously reaching over. And that sight alone is enough to get Azzi sliding over, moving Paige’s hand so she doesn’t sit on it. Dean looks at her through the rearview, but Azzi pretends not to notice.
Paige doesn’t look over when Azzi settles in beside her. But she does reach blindly for her hand before taking it and placing it in her own lap, playing with the fingers nervously. Azzi breathes in relief. Paige hasn’t rejected her outright—she can’t be too upset. At least not yet.
They sit like that for the remainder of the ride.
When they pull into the driveway, Paige gives Azzi’s hand a squeeze before subtly shaking herself out and exiting the car. Azzi follows, afraid to be alone with Paige’s parents for even a second.
Before Paige can close the door, Amy calls, “Bring your bags into your room, Paige. And when you’re done come down and talk to us in the kitchen.” There’s a weighted pause. “Alone.”
Paige doesn’t answer, just slams the door shut. Azzi winces.
Azzi doesn’t say anything while Paige opens the trunk, or when she starts aggressively pulling their things out, or even when she slams the trunk shut. No, Azzi keeps her mouth shut, wanting to allow her best friend to seethe in peace, but when Paige slams into her shoulder when she passes her, Azzi doesn’t want to let it slide. “Ow! Paige, what the fuck?”
“Get your bags,” Paige responds gruffly.
Okay, so it’s gonna be one of those times. Perfect.
Despite not wanting to, Azzi does as she’s told, gathering her bags and following Paige to the front porch. She tries not to think about how usually Paige would’ve carried her things for her.
Paige opens the door without a word and they walk inside. The house is nice, open, smells of cedarwood. Paige doesn’t give Azzi a chance to look around, though, instead walking briskly to the staircase, lugging her shit upstairs with impressive strength, and Azzi thanks God she’s in such good shape because she’s practically jogging by the time they arrive at a room at the end of the hall.
“Paige—“ Azzi starts to stay, but Paige cuts her off by throwing her own backpack off her shoulder and dropping her suitcases, as if she’s trying her hardest to make as much a ruckus as possible.
Azzi places her things much more nicely on her usual side of the bed, eyeing Paige cautiously the entire time. It’s the only reason she’s able to catch her before she leaves, anticipating her movements just like she does on the court and darting between her best friend and the door, blocking her.
For the first time in nearly an hour, Paige looks her in the eye, and there’s fire there. “Move, Azzi.”
“No.”
“God,” Paige sighs, “seriously, don’t piss me off. Get outta my way.”
“No, Paige,” Azzi repeats, keeping her feet planted.
Paige stares at her and then shakes her head. “Why are you being so fuckin’ annoying?”
“Don’t,” Azzi says, trying to stop her before she gets too fired up, but it’s already started.
“No, Azzi, you don’t,” Paige snaps. “I knew you were gonna get like this, do your fuckin’ peace and love shit that you think will solve everyone’s fucking problems.”
Azzi swallows hard. It’s been years since Paige went on a rampage like this, and she opens her mouth to stop her, but is quickly interrupted.
“It doesn’t solve anything, dawg. It actually makes shit worse, because it’s so motherfucking annoying having you acting like everything’s fine when you don’t even know.” Paige shakes her head, taking a step towards her. “And that’s the thing, is you really don’t know but you wanna pretend like you do. You don’t know what it’s like to have your mom fuckin’ leave you for some fuckass guy, for her to have new kids outta state and raise them to be hateful just like her. Just like him.”
At this point, Azzi has tears in her eyes, and she attempts desperately to swallow them down. “Did you forget that my dad fucking left me when I was a baby? I’ve never even fucking talked to him, Paige. He doesn’t want shit to do with me.”
“That’s not the same and you know it.” Paige sends her a withering glare, so different from the way she usually looks at Azzi. “You have Tim. You have your mom and your brothers and they all love you so fucking much.”
“You have your dad!” Azzi responds, throwing her hands in the air. “You have Drew, you have Alora!” A tear escapes, against her will, and she wipes it furiously away. “You have me, Paige,” she says, more quietly now. “I love you so fucking much. So you don’t get to take this shit out on me and say mean things to hurt my feelings. That’s not—it’s not fair.”
As soon as she sees the tears welling in Azzi’s eyes, Paige softens, her shoulders slumping, eyes turning on her with guilt rather than venom. “Az, don’t cry.”
For some reason, this makes Azzi more mad, and she turns away to face the door, always having hated crying in front of others. “Well if you say mean shit to me, I’m gonna cry, Paige,” she mumbles, though there’s not much fire to her weak, shaky tone.
“Hey, no, you’re right,” Paige reaches for Azzi’s shoulder, trying to turn her around, but the tears have started now and they’re not going to stop anytime soon so Azzi stays turned firmly away. “Azzi, I’m sorry, I didn’t—“ Paige cuts herself off on a sigh. Her hand falls off Azzi’s shoulder, and for a second Azzi thinks she’s going to walk away, but then a pair of arms wrap tenderly around her waist and Paige’s chin is wresting on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—I was wrong for that, I shouldnt’ve said any of that shit.” When Azzi doesn’t respond, instead burying her face in her hands to try and hide what she’s sure is an ugly cry, Paige squeezes her tighter. “Azzi, please don’t cry, I’m really sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry, for real. I didn’t mean any of it, I was just so scared about my parents and I took it out on you, I fucked up.”
Azzi nods into her hands, taking a deep breath to try and stop the embarrassing flow of emotion. “I know, Paige,” she tries, but it comes out sort of as a whimper and this only makes Paige circle around to stand in front of her, full-on hugging her now, burying her face in her neck and rubbing her back soothingly.
They’re silent for another moment before Paige says, “I’m serious, Az. I didn’t mean any of it.”
Azzi knows this, fundamentally, but there’s still a part of her that sort of cracked at hearing her best friend tell her that she was annoying, that her efforts to help always fall flat. “You shouldn’t have said it, then,” she stutters, letting Paige hold her close even as her face doesn’t come out of its hiding spot.
“I know, I know, I shouldn’t have. You’re the only person who can ever make me feel better and I—fuck. Azzi, I’m sorry, I can’t believe—I never wanna hurt you.” Paige lifts her head out of her neck to nuzzle into Azzi’s hair, pressing a kiss to the spot just behind her ear. “Never wanna make you cry.” She plants another kiss there, and Azzi’s breath hitches. From the crying or from something else, she doesn’t know.
Sighing shakily, Azzi finally pulls her head out of her hands to look up at Paige, placing her hands at her chest almost as if she’s about to push her away. She’s sure her mascara is ruined by now but she can’t bring herself to care too much. “It really hurt when you shoved me outside, too.”
A pained expression flits over Paige’s face, and she nods, looking almost sick. “Fuck. I’m—I’m sorry, Azzi. I’m so sorry. Is your arm okay? Does it still hurt?”
Azzi can’t take the guilty look on Paige’s face and shakes her head no. It doesn’t seem to relieve much of anything.
Breathing deeply, Paige closes her eyes and then leans her forehead against Azzi’s, bringing her hands up from her waist to stroke over her tear-stained cheeks. “I’m sorry, baby,” she whispers, and Azzi’s knows that the nickname wasn’t a slip-up this time, wasn’t just a habit from their pretending. “I’m really fuckin’ sorry.”
And with that, Azzi isn’t mad anymore. Her feelings are still hurt and the things Paige said are still going to replay in her head for quite some time, but at least for now, Azzi just can’t be mad. Because Paige is going through something she could never imagine going through.
“I’m sorry, too,” Azzi breathes, and Paige rears back, but before she can protest, Azzi says, “about your parents. About this whole…situation.” She looks down at her hands on Paige’s chest, and, deciding she won’t be needing to push her away anymore, she slides them up to her shoulders. “It’s shitty and you’re right, I don’t know what it’s like to be in your position.” She shrugs, swallowing back the last couple tears that threaten to fall, trying to regain at least some of her composure. “I’m going to be here for you, okay? I always am.”
Paige nods. “I know you will.”
“And that means,” Azzi goes on, “you can’t do this again. You can’t take it out on me. You can’t push me away. Because that makes it really fucking hard for me to help you, and I want to help you.”
Paige nods again, more solemnly this time, moving her hands back to circle her waist. “Yeah, yeah, I know, and I’m so sorry for—“
Azzi holds a hand up to Paige’s lips, effectively shutting her up. “Okay, stop. I accept your apology, I promise. Just, show me you’re sorry and don’t do it again, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Paige says. “‘Course.”
“Good.” Breathing mostly even now, Azzi pulls Paige in for another hug.
With a heavy sigh, Paige hugs her back. “We’re in it together, hm? From now on, together.”
Azzi rests her cheek on Paige’s shoulder, the weight of her arms around her, the feeling of her skin and bones, so familiar. “Yeah. Together.”
Paige pulls back just enough to look at her, and when Azzi reciprocates, she’s uneasy to find that Paige is giving her that same new look. The perplexed, maybe enthralled?, almost worried look that has taken over her face more often than can be explained ever since the first time after their kiss. Azzi really wants to work out what it means.
But, as always, Paige corrects herself and it’s gone as fast as it arrived. “We’re good?”
Azzi nods, smiling softly despite herself. “Yeah, P. We’re good.”
—————————————
Paige has been downstairs with her parents for nearly an hour.
From what Azzi can hear from her spot at the top of the stairs, it doesn’t sound to be going too well. The three of them keep going from yelling to whisper-yelling to yelling again, and Azzi swears Amy has cried like five times at this point.
When Azzi hears Dean say, “We just don’t allow sinners in this house, Paige,” and Paige snap back, “Do not use God against me right now!” Azzi figures it might be time to intervene.
Trying to come up with something quickly, she pulls out her phone and dials Paige’s number. She hears Paige’s phone ring downstairs, and the three of them go quiet before Paige says, “Just—one second,” and then there’s a click on the other line and she’s answering. “Um, hi?”
“Pretend I’m your dad,” Azzi says, hoping she’s not on speaker.
“What?”
“Just pretend I’m your dad, Paige. Seriously.”
“Uh, okay.” The line gets a little muffled and Paige says, “It’s dad.” Azzi can hear both Amy and Dean let out audible groans downstairs.
“Okay, now tell them that I—your dad—am offering to fly you home.”
“I…wha—“ Azzi can tell Paige wants to argue but can’t with her parents right in front of her, so instead she sighs and the line goes muffled again. “He’s, um, he’s offering to fly me home.”
Azzi only has a second to hope and pray that Amy shares Paige’s competitive nature before Amy is saying, “What? You told him about this?”
“No,” Paige answers, “he just knows how you’re like now. And he wants Azzi and I to have a good summer, not a shitty one with shitty people.”
“If you want to go back to your dad’s, go,” Dean says, and Azzi’s heart sinks. Maybe this won’t work.
But then, bless her evil, horrible soul, Amy is stepping in. “No. Absolutely not. I will never hear the end of it if we send you to your father after inviting you over. We just…” Amy sighs, and Azzi thinks she can hear her start crying again. “We want what’s best for you, Paige.”
It’s silent for a moment. And then, “Let me be happy, Mom. Let me see my siblings. Let me and my girlfriend have a good trip with y’all.”
Dean interjects. “We really don’t believe in this kind of stuff.”
“I don’t care,” Paige replies viciously. “I love Azzi. It doesn’t matter that she’s a fuckin’ girl. I…” Paige pauses, quite abruptly, and Azzi wonders if something happened. But then she hears a heavy inhalation and a quiet, “I love her, Mom.”
Azzi knows it’s for the act, but she can’t help the way her stomach somersaults, hearing the words she’s always wished Paige would say.
“And it doesn’t matter what you think of it,” Paige continues. “I’m happy. My faith is strong. And what goes on between me and God isn’t your fucking business.”
“Language,” Amy says immediately. But then it’s silent for another weighted moment and Azzi can imagine Amy and Dean sharing that knowing, judgmental look of theirs. Her heart races while she waits for a consensus, and she’s sure it’s 100 times worse for Paige. But after a few moments, Amy says, “Tell your father that you’re staying here with us. Your siblings will be home tomorrow morning. The four of us adults have a reservation at a restaurant tonight, and we’re all going to go.”
“Mom—“
“We will try,” Amy sighs. “Azzi’s a nice girl. We will—we’ll try.” There’s something tired in her voice when she says, “Right, Dean?”
No answer. But Azzi can imagine him nodding gruffly, and a moment later, with no more words from any of them, Paige appears at the bottom of the stairs. She startles a little when she sees Azzi sitting there at the top.
“Hi,” Azzi says sheepishly, finally disconnecting their call. “I was eavesdropping.”
Paige stares at her, and then starts climbing the stairs, a small smile overtaking their face. “Thanks for saving me.”
“I told you I would,” Azzi replies, waiting for Paige at the top. “So. Dinner with your parents tonight.”
“Yeah. I guess.” Paige gets to the second-top step and stays there, so she’s just a little shorter than Azzi.
“Dinner as a fake lesbian couple with your homophobic parents,” Azzi clarifies, and Paige laughs nervously.
“Uh-huh,” she responds. “I think we needa nap before that.”
“Oh, yeah,” Azzi agrees, pulling Paige up to stand with her. “That is an amazing idea.”
——————————————
Azzi is rudely awoken to none other than an old Tyler, The Creator song blasting through the tinny speakers of Paige’s phone. Azzi groans, and she blindly reaches out for Paige to turn the damn thing off, but her hands only find cold bedsheets. Annoyed, Azzi cracks her eyes open and tries desperately to find Paige’s phone, realizing in the process that Paige’s side of the bed is cold. Strange, considering they still have two hours until dinner.
Finally, after probably thirty seconds of this stupid song playing over and over again, Azzi finds the phone tangled up in the bedsheets and slams the off button. It’s sort of pointless, though, because now she’s very much awake and will not be going back to bed.
She sits up in Paige’s bed, rubbing her eyes and looking around the room. The sun is shining through the curtains, reflecting off the mirror above the vanity and showcasing the off-white walls, the pink door to the adjoining bathroom—which Azzi now realizes is in use, the sound of the shower muffled through the door. She hadn’t noticed before because Paige isn’t awfully singing to some Mariah Carey song. Other than the water, it’s dead quiet in there. She must be nervous.
Fiddling with the pink sheets, Azzi feels nervous, too. Usually, merely being in Paige’s space comforts her, but this room—it doesn’t feel like Paige. It doesn’t smell like her, and it’s too pink. There’s no purple at all, actually. And the vanity—Paige has never known how to do much else other than mascara. In high school, she needed Azzi to tell her what concealer was for, and to teach her how to curl her lashes. She certainly wouldn’t have use for an entire vanity dedicated to makeup. The walls are also decorated with cringy, sort of Bible-thumping quotes and paintings of flowers. There’s not a single basketball poster.
No, this room isn’t Paige at all and Azzi feels an ache in her heart, thinking about how out-of-place she must have felt whenever she came to visit as a kid. How out-of-place she must feel now.
Without Paige to talk to, and without her room to comfort her, Azzi settles for laying on Paige’s side of the bed, burying her face in the blankets, and there she is—vanilla, like her hair products, and lavender, like the lotion she wears and the linen spray she uses, because it calms her down.
Azzi thinks she just might fall back asleep, enveloped in Paige’s scent, but then the door to the bathroom opens and steam billows out just before Paige does, wrapped in a towel, hair wet down her shoulders. Azzi only has a second to ogle the water drops adorning Paige’s collarbones before she’s spotted, and Paige gives her a curious look. “You still sleep? I left my phone here so the alarm would wake you up.”
“Yeah, no, it did,” Azzi says, sitting up quickly, before she looks like a weirdo snuggling up in Paige’s spot. “Just tryin’ to hype myself up for dinner.”
Paige gives her a commiserating look. “Me too. I’m shitting my pants, for real.”
“That why you couldn’t sleep?” Azzi asks, stretching out her back and swinging her legs over the side of the bed.
Paige hums, bending down to rifle around in her suitcase. “I’on even know what to wear. Apparently it’s some fancy restaurant but I’m not wearing a fucking dress.”
Azzi laughs at that, lifting her hands when Paige shoots a glare over her shoulder. “I’m serious, dawg! And it’s not like I brought a suit or nothing.”
“I think you’re overthinking it,” Azzi says, standing up. “Just wear jeans and tuck a t-shirt or something. You’ll look cute no matter what.”
Paige straights up and gives her a cocky grin. “You think all that?”
“Chill, P,” Azzi rolls her eyes, shoving Paige’s shoulder a little.
“What were you doing on my side of the bed, anyway?” Paige asks, and Azzi can’t help the way she freezes. She’d thought Paige hadn’t noticed.
Trying to cover her reaction, she shrugs casually. “I didn’t know you owned the right side of the bed.”
“Nah, we’ve always had our sides,” Paige shakes her head, taking a step closer. “Why was you all cuddled up in mine?”
“Oh, I dunno,” Azzi says, trying for sarcastic but she can’t even really make eye contact, “maybe I rolled over or something.”
“Please. You don’t move in your sleep.”
“Maybe I do. You don’t know.”
“I think I’ve slept with you more often than I’ve slept alone,” Paige scoffs, taking a step even closer so that they’re practically chest-to-chest. “I know damn well.”
“Okay, seriously,” Azzi says, taking a small step back and stumbling when her thighs hit the bed, “go get dressed, you weirdo.”
“Mm,” Paige says, pretending to think about it. But before Azzi can move away, she grabs her waist and they both fall onto the bed while Paige starts to tickle her like crazy.
“Paige!” Azzi screams, laughing so hard she almost can’t breathe. “Get—off, oh my God!”
Paige is laughing right along with her, and it’s a miracle her towel hasn’t dropped yet. “Tell me the truth!”
“What the…” Azzi giggles and squeals when Paige goes for her armpit, “fuck!”
“I won’t stop ‘till you admit it!”
“Okay, fuck, okay!” Azzi pushes Paige off her, and Paige lets up just enough for her to gasp and say, “It smelled like you, okay? The sheets, they…” Paige has stopped completely now, staring at her with a shit-eating grin on her stupid face, “they smell like you.”
“Uh-huh,” Paige replies, “and you missed me so much while I was in the shower that you needed to smell my sheets?” She jabs her one more time in the ribs, making Azzi shriek, before rolling off her. “You lil creep.”
“It wasn’t like that!” Azzi insists, even though that’s exactly what it was like. “Now, seriously, go get dressed. You got me all wet.”
What Azzi means by that, of course, is that Paige’s damp towel and sopping hair had transferred to Azzi’s own clothes and hair. But Paige can’t be normal about anything, so she looks over and grins slyly.
“Don’t,” Azzi sighs.
“Oh, no, it’s okay,” Paige says, sitting up in bed and pulling Azzi up with her. “You don’t gotta be embarrassed. I know I make a lotta girls wet.”
“Stop being weird,” Azzi says, as Paige bends down once again to pull an outfit from her suitcase.
She begins walking back to the bathroom. “I’m not the one who gets turned on by tickling,” Paige calls over her shoulder. Just before she closes the bathroom door behind her, she says, “Don’t worry, we can take care of you after dinner, mama,” and winks at her.
Azzi’s shoe hits the door just as it clicks shut.
—————————————
They drive to the restaurant in silence.
It’s similar to their car ride from the airport, though it is a little less tense than before. Paige isn’t fidgeting too much beside her and her parents aren’t giving each other looks the entire time. That’s gotta be a good sign.
When they arrive at the restaurant, Amy and Dean start chatting idly, Paige and Azzi trailing behind when they walk inside the fancy building and give the hostess their reservation.
It’s only when they’re finally seated that they are addressed.
“So, girls,” Amy says, her voice all forced cheerfulness, “what looks good?”
“I dunno,” Paige mumbles, and Azzi kicks her under the table before saying, “Have you guys ever been here before?”
Amy looks a little startled at Azzi’s voice, but she recovers quickly, looking over at Dean with a forced smile. “Oh, yeah, we come here sometimes.”
Azzi smiles politely. “What do you suggest, then?”
“Um,” Amy says, and then she sort of jerks and Dean winces, and Azzi’s sure Amy has also just kicked him under the table.
Apparently well-trained, he speaks immediately. “We love the spinach ricotta.”
Azzi hums, then nudges Paige. “That sounds good, right?”
“Uh…” Paige looks like she wants to be difficult, but then she sees the warning stare Azzi is giving her and straightens up a little, “yeah, yeah. Sounds good.”
“Wanna share?”
Paige sighs, but luckily it’s barely audible. “Yeah, sure. Let’s share.”
Azzi leaves herself out of the conversation after that, letting Paige answer her parents’ conversation starters. When the waitress comes to take their orders, Paige gets a glass of wine for the both of them. Neither of them really like wine, but it seems classy enough and it might take the edge off just enough that they can actually get through the night unscathed.
It’s not until their dinner arrives that Azzi is addressed again.
“So, Azzi,” Dean says, out of nowhere, “How’s the knee?”
Azzi’s hand goes subconsciously to her surgery scars. “Doing better. PT’s been going good.”
“Good, good.” He leans back in his seat, and Azzi senses trouble. Something about the way Paige protectively rests her arm across the back of Azzi’s seat makes her think she senses it, too.
“You get injured a lot, huh?” He asks.
Azzi sort of hates the way her face gets hot, hoping it doesn’t show up on her brown skin. “I’ve torn my ACL twice, yeah.”
“And your meniscus, right?” he prods.
Without really noticing it, Azzi looks over to Paige, and that’s apparently all Paige needs to jump in. “Hey, let’s not talk about it.”
“Why not?” Dean asks, scoffing. Amy is looking between the three of them nervously. “It’s hard not to talk about. Azzi, you don’t even play basketball at this point.”
“Um,” Azzi replies, her instincts telling her to get hot-headed but with the way Paige is buzzing beside her, she’s gonna need to keep her cool.
“What the hell?” Paige says, her hand going from the chair to Azzi’s shoulder. She looks at Amy. “Mom, you said this wouldn’t happen.”
“Your father is just asking a few questions—“
“He’s not my fucking dad!” Paige exclaims, and Azzi jerks as she’s pulled into Paige’s side. “I already have a dad! He raised me, he loves me, Mom, and he’d never say this shit about Azzi.” Angrily, Paige stands up, tossing a few bills onto the counter and helping Azzi to stand beside her.
“Sweetheart,” Amy says, reaching limply for her daughter while Dean sits beside her looking far too smug. “Paige, where are you going? We’re your ride.”
“We’ll Uber,” Paige responds, wrapping an arm around Azzi’s waist. “I’m not gonna make her sit through your bullshit because you don’t know how to act like a decent fucking human being.”
“He was just asking—,” Any starts, sounding exasperated, but Paige cuts her off.
“You know what he was doing.” She glares at Dean, who shakes his head, smirking. “We’ll go back to the house,” she sneers. “But if this doesn’t change by tomorrow we’re leaving.”
And with that, she takes Azzi hands and leads them both out into the night.
—————————————
Paige keeps it together until they get to the house.
As soon as they’re stepping through the door, she turns away from Azzi and leans down to untie her shoes. Azzi does the same, but she doesn’t miss the sniffling sounds coming from her best friend.
Paige refuses to look at her when they start heading upstairs, and she tries to make a beeline for the bathroom once they close her bedroom door shut behind them. But Azzi stops her, placing a gentle hand on her arm. “P?”
Another sniffle. And then a quick wipe at her face before she’s turning around, trying to look nonchalant but her eyes are red and her lip is trembling. “Yeah?”
“Paige,” Azzi says softly, and Paige crumbles, hands coming up to her face as she starts crying.
Azzi steps forward to hug her, pulling her down to hide in her chest. “I’m sorry, P. I’m so sorry, this—this sucks.”
“I’m sorry,” Paige replies, voice all small and muffled in a way that makes Azzi’s heart hurt. “I thought they were gonna try…I wouldn’t have taken you out with them if I knew…”
“Hey, it’s all good,” Azzi responds, running a hand through Paige’s hair. “I didn’t mind, really. I’ve heard worse.”
This is apparently the wrong thing to say, because Paige just cries harder. “Fuck, Az, you shouldn’t have to do this.” She lifts her head up to look at her, and Azzi absently wipes her face. “This sucks. It’s the first week of summer and I—I was shitty to you and now my parents, and I—“
“Paige,” Azzi says sternly. “I wouldn’t have agreed to this if I couldn’t handle it. I can handle it. It’s you that I’m worried about.”
Paige nods, sniffling again. “You don’t gotta worry. I’m fine.”
“You’re obviously not fine, P,” Azzi says, and Paige winces, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her shirt.
“I’m okay,” Paige insists. “Really. As long as we do this together, I’m okay.”
She straightens up like she’s steeling herself, and Azzi thinks maybe she should do the same.
This is only the first day of their two-week stay.
It’s going to be a long trip.
@azzibuckets @smiths-fan--13 @ch12334 @makethemhoesmad @the-other-half @rosemariiaa
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boolger · 1 day ago
Text
A lapdog at a farm - chapter 5
<-former chapter -AO3 link -next chapter -> Call of duty. My ko-fi, Explicit, 18+, minors do not interact. read the tags. WC: 6.3k
tags: Rape/non-con elements, dub-con, dog!hybrid!people being kept as pets, alternative universe - farm, dark, farmer!John Price, working-dogs, punishments, mating cycles/rut/heat (no omegaverse), the dove isn't dead but its dying, it dies later on, reader is a brat, knotting, animal tails and ears, mentions of trauma, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, collars, rough sex, breeding kink, biting, threesome, foursome, everyone is fucking your honor, enemies to lovers, chubby reader, reader has a pussy
MDNI. MDNI. Dead dove do not eat.
Authors note: do note there will be the use of prong collars in this. Just like all the other fucked up stuff in this, i don't support that irl, but this is fiction. On a different note, it will probably be at least a week before I can give you another chapter lol, shit is happening, my sinners and im holding on. Also thank u to all the nice asks and comments ive been sent. means a lot <33. ENJOY!
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You could only stay in the farmhouse for so long; even though you desperately wanted to stay inside, Price dragged you outside, talking about fresh air and enjoying nature. 
To you it was nothing but lies and the smell of animal shit.
There were no pavements, no cars flashing by, no advertisements or shops, no scents of food or sweets trying to lure you in. There were no hybrid clothes shops, where John would play dress up with you for his next party. Show him how the lingerie set he picked out looked against your tail.
He would make sure your nails were always perfect and manicured. Without the claws, he made sure you knew you were loved anyways, your nails adorned with expensive nail polish and gemstones. Anything that his Daisy, his princess, his darling, his puppy wanted, she always got.
Now you were here, following him into the stables, to see how far Nikolai - who had forced himself into your life - was with the tractor.
Warily looking out for the hybrids, staying close to your owner.
The stitches were gone and everything was healed all nicely - that didn’t mean that you wanted to start over and get more bites that would need stitches. Once was enough. Hopefully Price and Nikolai understood that too.
Also, you didn’t want to get fucked dumb by those mutts again; they didn’t deserve your pussy. Especially not Ghost or Gaz. Not really Soap either, he had just been nice because he had to. You were sure. They were nothing but stupid working dogs, who didn’t know how to behave.
Your owner, John Price, looked in love; he was watching Nik just as much as he was watching the tractor. The stress that had sometimes followed him home when you lived in the city was no longer visible. It had left his bones, made him happy and pliable, clearly blossoming in his new role as a farmer. You loved him but what the fuck were you supposed to do with this whole situation? Pretend to be happy?
You were a pet, so it wasn’t like you had any options. And your attempts at persuading him to move back to the city hadn’t gone well. Resisting your ever present urge to let him fuck you, would probably not do you any good. Earn you a spanking from both him and Nikolai. They might even throw you to the hounds.
One of those said hounds were getting closer to you, the hybrid making you tense up a little.
“You’re looking good, princess,” Gaz said casually, shooting you an awfully charming smile, his tail wagging while you tipped your ears backwards instead of replying.
“Feeling better?”
You didn’t reply, merely stared at the tractor, boring as it was. Maybe if you ignored him, he would go away. He stepped closer to you, his dark gaze resting on you, while you stepped closer to John, growling as a warning.
“Behave,” Price said over his shoulder, clearly more interested in that Russian man of his, than your safety.
It only took another step and Gaz’s teeth a tad too close to you, to send you bolting out. Back inside it was then, you concluded, enough farming bullshit for today.
Only to meet Ghost in the way, his scarred face grinning smugly, ears tipping towards you.
“‘Ello pup.”
Nah, you weren’t fucking with that today. You managed to see the shadow of Soap before you bolted again.
Running still wasn’t your best talent; so though you knew it was stupid, you decided to do what you weren’t allowed to anyways. You crawled the wooden fence, ignoring the male hybrids' shouts and barks — as well as the fence’s slight squeak - and landed on the other side with a grunt. 
The corns were tall and you took a breath, looking over your shoulder, only to see a worried looking Soap being the closest.
He let out a concerned whimper.
“Dinnae lass,” he warned, a softness in his voice that you recognized from your moments inside.
You would deal with the consequences and the punishment that Price would give you for leaving the ground. It was better than getting your shoulders bitten to pieces - so you got up and rushed into the tall corn field. Abandoning the male hybrids.
Stupid. They were all stupid.
Maybe this should be your new go-to hiding spot. You could hear them bark aggressively but not getting nearer. They weren’t allowed to leave either. You felt your chest swell a little with pride over the idea. You wouldn't be gone for long, just until they lost interest in you.
It was several seconds before you stopped, panting with your tongue out. You couldn’t see the fence or the farm from all the corn by now, which finally meant some peace. Your tail wagged and your body relaxed, a soft wind playing with your fur for a moment, making the corn move around you, like waves in the ocean.
However, that peace didn’t last long.
“My my,” the voice almost appeared out of nowhere and you turned slowly, unsure but still afraid of what you would see, “what are you doing here, perrita? On my property?”
You knew Alejandro and Rodolfo had gotten a hybrid, but you had been too swept up in your own nightmare to ask about her; now, as she towered above you, seeming more wolf than dog, you would rather have one of the mutts on your own farm. A scared little whimper escaped you.
“You must be Price’s precious lapdog, no?” She asked, slowly moving in between the corn with ease, as she circled around you, fear making you stay still, “a little city puppy, forced to be out on a farm. How sad.”
There was no trace of sympathy in her voice. It took you a moment to swallow some spit and another moment to take a proper breath.
“I’ll go home again, I’m sorry.” You tried your best to seem submissive, leaning forward a little, tail tugged along your leg. You at least had your owner at the farm - but here? Here, with this new, wolf-like hybrid, you didn't have anyone. You weren’t even supposed to be here, weren’t allowed. Sure, you knew Alejandro and Rudy, but they also knew you weren’t supposed to be there.
“Hmmm,” she answered in a rumble, licking her teeth slowly, casually showing off her fangs, “what’s your name, perrita?”
She screamed danger. Her energy screamed ‘I can make worse wounds than them’ and you certainly didn’t feel like testing that. In fact, you would rather get as much distance between you and her as possible.
“D-Daisy.” It was the name Price had chosen, not that you were really called it. But you weren’t going to tell this hybrid woman who looked like she could swallow you whole, that you were usually called princess, pretty girl, puppy or sweetheart.
“I’m Valeria,” she replied, finally stopping her circling, only to step closer to you. She wasn’t really that tall, but her energy was as if she was,  she had strong arms and legs; scars littered her too, her hair short, ears big and tipped forward without a care in the world. Her collar was thick and sturdy, opposed to your own fancy one.
You almost wanted to point out that yours was prettier. That you were a lapdog, not one of the working ones, that you were not made to be played rough with. That you were no threat.
You could hear barking in the distance. Voices calling out for you. Even though you hadn’t met Valeria for more than a minute, you already knew you wanted to get a good distance between you and her.
“Uh nice to meet you, but I better get back home, sorry-“ you turned around quickly but before you could even think to bolt, strong arms were around you and the other dog hybrid pulled you close to her chest.
“Eres tan linda e ingenua,” she almost lovingly growled into your ear, and while you didn’t understand what she was saying, you were much more distracted by her tongue. She licked your cheek a couple of times, slow and wet strokes; you got the feeling that she might eat you raw without regret and you twisted a little in her grip, letting out a louder growl. She laughed, one of her hands pawing at your tit, claws sinking into the fabric. She smelled of danger and lust; like the mutts at home when they first got their dirty paws on you.
“I’m gonna enjoy me—“
“VALERIA!” Her name echoed through the fields, making both of you freeze. Like a warning rushing in between the corns, her name couldn’t be ignored.
She growled deeply, seeming annoyed with the disturbance, while you wanted to kiss whoever of your neighbors it was. She rolled her hips, humping your ass twice, before she was interrupted again.
“Valeria!” It was Alejandro, you realised then, who yelled once again, “ sé que la tienes! Let her go!”
With one deep sniff of you, while you whimpered, the wolf-looking hybrid finally let go of you.
“I won’t be as nice next time, perrita - now go, before I change my mind and take you from your boys.”
You didn’t need to be told that again and didn’t want to argue that they weren’t your boys - the moment she let go, you bolted towards the way you came. 
How they knew that she had gotten a hold of you wasn't clear, but it wasn’t like you were gonna turn around and ask Alejandro or Rudy.
The answer came to you anyways; one angry looking John Price stood with crossed arms, phone in hand. A grinning Nikolai next to him and three growling hybrids moving back and forth along the men and the fence. Every single one of them stilled and stared at you as you sheepishly walked to the fence, tail between your legs and ears tipped down.
You stood, just for a moment, with the fence in between you and the others. Considering staying there, as if that would be a good solution.
“Get your arse over here,” Price snapped, his voice stern and dark, as he put his phone in his pocket, marching towards you. 
You hastily and in a rather inexperienced manner, climbed the fence and got to the right side. Instantly, tears welled up in your eyes and you let out a whimper, almost ready to tell about the horrors you had just been through - only to bark loudly at the hybrids as they all charged towards you, hands touching you, only stopped by a sharp whistle. 
“Nyet,” Nikolai called harshly, “off her. Now.”
Soap and Gaz instantly let go, stepping back as John reached you, but Ghost didn’t move. His hand rested on your neck, pressing your collar against your skin, his nose almost fully pressed against your temple. 
“Let go.” Price’s voice was sharp and you let out a little whimper- not sure who of them you would rather deal with right now.
“She smells wrong,” Ghost replied, not moving, but his voice not as harsh as it could be, “smell of her.”
Her. You didn’t know whether Valeria would be in trouble over this or not. You had been the one to step into her territory anyways. She wasn't the one who had jumped a fence after all.
“We will fix that.” 
Ghost let out a grumble but after two seconds of staring at each other, the hybrid finally let go of you, earning himself a swift “Good boy.” 
Then Price grabbed into the ring in your collar and pulled, ignoring how you instantly broke into tears, excuses and explanations spilling from your lips like a waterfall, desperate to avoid punishment. You didn't want to stay with Valeria, but you didn’t want this either.
You were dragged past Nikolai who shared a short glance with Price - and they gave each other a short nod.
“C’mon boys,” Nikolai then called, the hybrids instantly moving to him, even though you could feel them staring at you, “we’re gonna join them.”
They were what? You cried harder, tugging at John’s arm, your owner ignoring your pleads and cries.
“I’m sorry sir, I got scared, I didn’t mean to run away,” you babbled, every second word followed by a small sob or whine, tail between your lets, almost making it hard to walk normally, “ they scared me, I was gonna come back, I’ll be good sir, I’ll behave! I wasn’t running away!”
There was no mercy from your owner, who just marched you towards the farmhouse that had almost become home by now.
If someone had told you a year ago that you would be a dog on a farm by now, surrounded by working hybrids, you would have laughed in their face. Loudly and impolitely.
You? Pretty lapdog living in the city out on a farm?
You weren’t even at the house yet, somehow crying harder because you felt so sorry for yourself in general. You were such a perfect lapdog, such a perfect being, forced to be out here, in the cold countryside. A tragedy.
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The prong collars looked like they would choke too and you wanted to scream merely at the sight.
“I’m not running the risk of having my darling all bitten to pieces again - this will hopefully help you to remember.”
None of them seemed too happy about it; you couldn’t blame them, you wouldn’t want those either, but you were horrified by the idea of getting bitten as harshly as they did last time. If both Price and Nik hadn’t been there, you doubted it would be possible to get the collars on them.
You were still crying yourself, from the shame of having jumped over the fence and creating chaos, only resulting in this.
The moment they were allowed, they were on you, ignoring your whimpering and fingers trying to push them off - Soap was the nicest, helping you get your clothes off instead of letting the others rip them, even if all of them were obsessed with your smell. Or well, with how you smelled of Valeria to be exact.
Soap licked your cheek and you growled at him, tipping your ears back, trying to push him away, fingers against his chest; but he didn’t move, only pressed himself closer, growling back to prove he was stronger than you - that you were supposed to be submitting to him.
“They shouldn’t be this aggressive,” you heard Price point out to Nikolai, but you were too distracted by Soap grinding his still clothed crotch against your poor, exposed cunt - you whined his name, but he didn’t stop. 
“Gonn’ mark ye, hen,” he promised in a murmur, teeth sinking into your jaw for just a moment - a warning tug in the leash made him let go almost instantly, instead licking the spot a couple of times, “gonn’ make ye smell all bonnie again.”
Both Gaz and Ghost were barking, but they were both held by the collars by Price and Nik, kneeling next to them, clearly antsy.
“-are working dogs-” it was hard to hear them, over your own mind buzzing so much, over the barks and the pleasure that you hated, “-hierachy is importa-”, one of Soap’s hands disappeared and a moment later, you heard his fly get tugged down, “show them where the line is, so–”
You howled in a high pitched tone as he forced his cock inside you, making you twist and try to push Soap okay. The stretch was intense, burning despite how wet you felt. “It's okay, bonnie lass,” Soap growled, forcing his cock a little deeper into you, nosing at your shoulder, near one of your scent glands, his hands moving to grab onto your thighs, “we’re nae gonna hurt ye.”
You both knew it was a lie - but you at least trusted Soap a little more than the two other mutts who were watching, knowing he could control himself. They were barely able to sit still, tongues out, almost drooling, while their eyes were dark in a way that reminded you of that time in the shed.
He forced his cock deeper, the knot finally reaching the opening of your poor, stretched cunt and you let out a sound at the fear of it sliding inside you. The scent of Soap was already beginning to overwhelm the scent that Valeria had left behind against your will - a part of you wished you had fought her more, had attempted to hurt her more.
The cry that left you was pained and afraid - his fangs almost having forced its way through your skin; you were only saved by John, who pulled Soap back by the collar, the prongs digging into the hybrid’s skin.
“Behave, boy,” John snarled while a mixture of a whine and a growl left Soap, as he helplessly pawed at the collar, “No breaking skin - already told you.”
“‘m sorry, sorry,” he promised, a pained tone to his voice, “dinnae mean tae.”
You doubted it was true; there was a darkness in the air despite the way your owner tried handling them.
He was let go off and the moment the prongs didn’t painfully dig into his skin, he was on you again, tongue on the indent he had left, his cock pressed into you again, his tail wagging.
“‘m sorry,” he barely managed to say in between his licks and moans, before his hands were back on you, his moaning louder, as he ignored your whines of slowing down. Your own hands grabbed onto his mohawk and ears, but the hybrid did nothing but moan even louder, moving his hips a little upwards and fuck - he hit the perfect spot, grinning like a feral hound when he noticed and heard your sounds.
You came against your will, crying out and spasming around him, his hands grabbing harder onto your thighs, claws teasing the skin.
He was panting and moaning like a hound, mounting you like there was nothing in his mind but the feeling of your cunt.
“Gonna fill ye up,” Soap promised, words barely escaping his mouth, drool dripping down on you; not like you cared, too gone yourself to really do so.
“DON'T knot her,” Price’s word cut through the air like a sharp knife, slicing into your mind; you wanted him to knot you, a part of you realized, no you needed him too - while another screamed in delight of not having to be stuck to him.
“Nnngh,” his hips were going so fast it almost hurt as they clashed against your skin, “please sir, please plea—“
“No.”
The hand that appeared made you shudder - and then a second later, Soap came, almost a guttural scream leaving him; you could feel Price’s fingers near your cock, stopping him from sliding his knot into you. 
“Later,” Price answered, then pulling Soap back by the collar and hair, your own hands slipping easily from him, “we don’t have the time to wait for all of you to knot her right now.”
The moment he was pulled away, you moved, whimpering and curling to the side, wincing as cum slid out from your pussy; it wasn’t John’s, you wanted it to be your owners. You barely had time to breathe before Nik released one of the others. Gaz pushed you onto your stomach - one hand on your neck to keep you down as you snarled.
“Wait,” you barked, ears tipping down “lemme breathe, for fucks sake—“
“Need you, puppy,” Gaz merely replied, grabbing onto your collar and tugging, his other hand pulling on your tail, ignoring your yelp, “gonna make it all okay again.”
“Nothing happened-“ you snarled, trying to make him let go, but you separately rose to your knees in order to levitate the pressure on your tail.
“Why did you smell like her then, huh?” He all but snarled, finally letting go of your collar, to push down his own pants, “stinking of her lust!”
You tried twisting to grip onto his ears to tug at them, hoping it would make him let go of you but he merely let go of you fully for a moment - your wrists were caught by his hands and he slammed them against the wooden floor.
“Be nice, собака,” Nik warned him, “I’m in no mood for broken bones.”
You barely heard him nor Gaz’ aggressive reply; you were too busy, having a realization. 
They were jealous ; you weren’t sure why it had taken you so fucking long to realize. The three mutts were jealous somebody else, somebody they didn’t know, had touched you and hadn’t you been so fucking upset, you might have laughed.
Instead, you felt a cock forcing its way into your cunt, making you howl in pleasure against your will; the slide was easier this time as Gaz fucked you, as you were already wet from the round with Soap - and now with his cum as well, Gaz fucked you almost smoothly. If not more aggressively than Soap had.
It didn’t take long before his teeth sank into your skin, the first two seconds it was nothing more than an extra grip, his cock roughly thrusting into you as if attempting to move your organs, his drool sliding along your skin, mixing with your sweat. His claws were digging into your skin slightly, but even more into the floor - while you were a mess, panting and attempting to growl in between your pathetic moans, barely able to see straight.
The pressure he bit you with changed quickly however and suddenly you were whining in pain, so loudly that you almost didn’t recognize your own voice.
Apparently Gaz had tried to bite Price in aggression over being ripped away from ‘his bitch’ as Nik called it, and you heard the harsh words and slaps, while you sank down a little, your tits pressed against the cold floor, your cunt empty. 
He was back as soon as he disappeared though, pulling you up again, only to almost instantly try to bite you again – halfway pulled away once more. You looked over your shoulder, seeing how the prong collar dug into his skin for a short moment until Price let go of him again.
The moment he was back, you turned however, using the moment to grab onto one of his long, dark ears and tug; it was almost a squeal that left Gaz and you heard both the hybrids bark and growl, Nik saying something – but it was the harsh spank from the leather leash that made you loosen your grip. 
“Behave, Princess,” John was squatting down next to you, strong hand on your pretty collar; it stood out so violently when compared to the others’ current prong collars, “or I’ll get you a collar too.”
“They’re mean!” you whimpered, giving him your best puppy eyes, before sending Gaz an angry look, as he was barely held back by John.
“Well you’re not quite playing nice either, eh?” There was a slight amusement in his voice but you didn’t get to comment on it, before he moved again.
Price gave Gaz more leash and the hybrid was instantly on you again, but this time Price didn’t let go of the metal ring in your own collar, keeping you in place, as if to remind you to behave; to remember he was right here, calling the shots.
“Yeah, Princess,” Gaz mocked, pushing into your cunt again with a moan, the movement in his hips exposing the fact that he was wagging his tail, “Behave.”
“Shut up!” you hissed angrily, a tug in the collar reminding you that Price was right there. 
Gaz’ hands were mostly on your hips - he nuzzled against your back and neck, licking your shoulders and in between your shoulder blades - he bit you a couple of times, but they were barely anything more than nips, a gentle tug on his collar reminding him to behave.
Then one of his hands moved, almost catching you off guard and making you whimper - it slid beneath your stomach, pawing at it for a moment, before it found its way to your cunt where the two of you were still connected, his thrusts still hard; he touched your clit without hesitation, snarling out words you could barely recognize. Mercilessly forcing you towards another orgasm.
Price let go of your collar and you let your head slumber down against the floor, wincing at the small pool of drool that had been created, hating how you pushed back against Gaz, the dual pleasure of his cock hitting that right spot and the fingers on your clit, so good you could barely breathe.
You barely heard Price’s command of not knotting you, from the mere tsunami of pleasure that overtook your body as you came, a howl that barely made any sound, snapping of your teeth and the pawing at the floor. You tightened around his cock, the knot having been so close, oh so close to being forced into your over oversensitive cunt - but then it was pulled out of you, almost making you sob.
Cum spurted on top of your lower back and ass cheeks, before Gaz willingly went - you could hear the almost instant sound of him and Soap making out with each other. And there was only one person back, which meant you had to go now.
A hand grabbed onto your ankle, dragging you backwards as you managed to crawl forwards a few steps - you turned around, back on the floor, raising your opposite leg to kick Ghost in the face, but the other hybrid caught it easily; grinning at you, almost feral-like, lust heavy in the air. Sometimes you forgot they had been in the military for so long.
Leather connected to your skin once more, this time on your raised thigh, a whine leaving you, your eyes flickering to look up at John who stood with the leash curled in his hand, ready to spank you with it once more.
“behave,” John hissed at you, while Ghost chuckled. Idiot.
You didn’t have much time to argue, Ghost letting go of your ankles, just to grab onto your thighs and pull you closer; he was kneeling, almost pulling you into his lap, that feral grin still there, fangs exposed.
He leant over you much quicker than you had anticipated, ignoring your growling and snapping with teeth - one hand resting next to your head, the other pulling down his boxers, pants already open.
Was his cock this big last time? It was like you couldn’t remember the last time right now, you could barely think, in fact, your mind was overwhelmed with so many things. Pleasure, oversensitivity, pain and anger - his dick seemed inhumanely long.
“Not so snappy now, huh?” he crooned, voice low, his free hand grabbing onto your plush thigh, fingers digging into the fat, ears tipped towards you as he spoke, “cockdumb already?”
“nnngh,” you tried pushing at his clothed chest, twisting in his grip, but it was no use; it was like the cock inside you kept you from doing anything. Somehow you managed a small “shutup” and that was enough to set Ghost going.
“Gonna teach you to not go whoring again,” Ghost snarled against your skin, tongue sloppily leaving a wet trail of spit over one of your bouncing tits, simply ignoring your hands trying to push his face out of the way, a plethora of moans and small yaps leaving you as he didn’t stop fucking you with that monster cock of his. You knew you were being watched, both by your owner and his boyfriend, as well as the two other hybrids, it only added to the humiliation of being turned on.
“Belong to us,” his words were barely audible as he growled them, the wet sounds and rustling of his clothes seeming to overtake it, “not her.”
“I won’t, won’t go, won–” you were barely aware of the words slipping from your lips, the volume rising as you felt his teeth scrape against a spot on your shoulder over your right breast, “nonon, please, I wont–”
“Ghost–” Price’s warning was stern, the little tug in the prong collar making him grumble, licking over the spot a couple of times - your eyes met. 
Ghost’s eyes almost seemed like they wanted to own you too; as if it was no longer John who you bowed to, but the pack that you didn’t want, on a farm you didn’t want to be. His thrusts quickened and then his eyelids lowered together with his head – biting down into your skin.
Despite his fast attempt at breaking your skin, mauling your flesh into his, Price was quicker – pulling him back by the collar. He held an extra grip on his hair and you managed to look up, see through the tears.
It was like there was a flood in your ears, Price looking mad, Ghost’s ears tipping backwards as he spoke.
Fighting to get some air into your lungs, you panted and tried wiggling free. Ghost’s fingers merely dug deeper into your plush thigh even though he was currently pulled back by the prong collar, the tips of his claws pressing against your skin as a warning.
The moment he let go, Ghost was back at it, staring down at you with a dark smile, grunts and small moans even leaving him. It took a couple of moments before Price let him have enough leash to bend down over you again and this time Ghost growled into your ears instead of your skin. Licking your furry ears while you whimpered at the feeling and the words.
They owned you; were going to breed you, use you, keep Valeria away, and do whatever they needed to keep you. You were theirs. The moment you let us, he had panted, we will love you.
There was an odd feeling in your stomach, almost as if you were going to piss yourself, but with no mercy from any of the men, one of your hands dug into his short hair and the other grabbed onto his shoulder as you screamed.
It had been a while since you squirted and it took you by surprise, just as it did the others. There were several barks, voices but then Ghost was fucking you even harder than before, bordering on painful, forcing his mouth against yours. You came a second time, this time not squirting but it almost felt more intense.
Ghost came just a moment later, perhaps caught by surprise himself, but he made sure not to knot you. 
The world was spinning around you. There were teardrops in your lashes as you squinted up at the hybrid, who was still pushed inside you. Price’s hand petting him shortly on the head before pulling him back.
There was speech but you barely noticed - then strong hands pulled you up into a lap. The overpowering scent of leather and oil told you who it was and despite your slight hate for Nik, your tail wagged as he pulled you into his arms, cooing at you.
“Such a strong puppy,” he praised, one of his hands drying away some of your drool, caressing your cheek as he sat on the floor with you on his lap, cum no doubt dripping onto his clothes, “you deserve treat for being so good, da?”
Compared to the first time you had met Nikolai, you didn’t want to bite his hand anymore - he clearly didn’t fear you doing so either. You snuggled into his hand, nodding as you squinted up at him, a  small “uh-huh” leaving you.
His hand disappeared and then there was a faint rustling of plastic - even without seeing it, you smelled it. It was that mouthwatering scent that made you weak in your knees that first time and your nose instantly sniffed, almost trying to sit up further to get a look of where it was - to get it before the boys did. Nikolai laughed, letting out a “there you go, milaya,” letting you grab the piece of jerky from his finger, instantly sinking your teeth into it with a pleased sigh. Your tail wagging a little again as you heard Soap whining over not getting a piece.
You even had to take a bath with them afterwards. Your life was officially over - you made sure to tell Price that, who just huffed and rolled his eyes. Sure, you weren’t the biggest fan of showers, but you wanted the cum off and you wanted a bath in the tub… alone. That was your thing.
“- ‘nd they’re gonna use up my shampoo and my conditioner -” you continued overdramatically as Nik carried you in front of John, the russian man merely snorting at your pitiful complaining. 
“We’ll buy more-” John tried to point out, but to no avail, life might as well be over for you right now.
“- ‘nd my brushes - all my nice brushes!”
“I will be sure tae use yers, Mo ghràdh,” Soap happily proclaimed, sending you a wink, fully naked as he was, his usual collar back on, small red marks on his neck from where the prongs had been, “I will use theim the wrong way. Just fer ye.”
Gaz snickered and even Ghost let out a chuckle.
“Jooohn,” you whined, only struggling a little as Nik sat you down in the tub, the water already nice and warm, your poor body having needed this, “I’m gonna need new brushes.”
“I doubt that, Princess,” he cooed, petting your hair, “Now who wants to join in th–”
Soap was in the tub, sliding in behind you before John could even finish his question, happily ignoring your pout and growl.
“Dinnae be like that,” he crooned, “where is yer special shampoo?”
This day had been awful.
✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨
“Princess.”
You almost jumped as the voice called for you and you turned, squinting slightly in suspicion at the sight. Gaz stood in the doorway, all calmly, looking at you, playing a little with his gloves. He didn’t look aggressive and didn’t smell turned on; in fact, he looked pretty harmless, his tail wagging ever so slightly, ears turning towards you and an almost shy smile.
“What?” you asked, sitting up in the dog bed, crossing your arms, not caring about sounding nice, looking him over for a moment before adding, “you’re dragging in mud.”
He looked down at his shoes, letting out a little ‘oh’. They weren’t really supposed to be in here, so you didn’t really understand why Gaz stood there. You didn’t really care either.
The other might be beautiful, but he was still not one of your favorite people. 
“I - want to show you something,” he finally said, one of his charming smile appearing, though it was a little more careful this time, “Soap said you would probably like it.”
“What is it?” You didn’t sound too impressed.
“It's a surprise,” he smiled a little more.
“If it's your knots, then you can–”
“Jeez,” he rolled his eyes, as if they weren’t fucking you silly on the livingroom floor the other day, “it’s not. Nothing like that.”
“Promise?”
“I do,” he answered, wagging a little more than before, “Swear on my tail.”
"Hm. Where is it?”
“In the barn.”
You scrunched your nose at the mention of the barn, the idea of being stamped to death by a horse already scaring you.
“It’s nothing scary - I wouldn’t bring you if it was.”
You let out a sigh, before getting up - he went to the hallway again and you followed, stealing one of John’s jackets as well as a pair of his boots, before following Gaz outside. 
“Some air would do you good once in a while, ya’ know,” Gaz said after a few moments, “we’re not that bad all of the time, Princess.”
You huffed, wondering for a moment if you should just turn around and go back. “You haven’t really proved me otherwise.”
He let out a hum that almost sounded agreeable but opened one of the doors to the barn, ushering you inside.
“It’s all good, I promise,” he said once more and you reminded yourself, that if he tricked you, you were going to snap off his tail. Pretty as it was.
He steered you to a booth where you noticed the heat lamp at first, more than anything else - but then you saw them, letting out a little gasp.
Tiny baby goats, all snuggled together in the hay beneath the lamp. A few of the mothers stood nearby and one of them came to the door of the booth, sniffing at Gaz’ hand, before letting out a bleat - then turning around again.
“They’re adorable,” you whispered, looking back at the babies, some of them looking at you, others sleeping with no worries in the world. 
“Aren’t they?” Gaz asked with a smile, “They were born yesterday night. Come.”
You let out a scared sound as Gaz opened the door to the booth.
“Won’t the mothers attack us?” you didn’t like how Gaz chuckled to your genuine, fearful question but he shook his head.
“Nah, me ‘nd the others hang out with the animals all the time.” He explained, petting one of the mothers who came to greet him for a moment.
It was cute. You had to admit that, even with your limited love of the farm animals.
“But I don’t.” you pointed out, still standing in the door of the booth, afraid to step into the hay and join the other as he sat down next to the baby goats.
“No, but the mothers know I won’t let a predator near,” he explained gently, “Not at daytime and not during the night.”
“Oh.”
There was something special over this that you could not explain. You didn’t want to explain it. You sat down next to Gaz as he patted the spot, still a little unsure about the momma goats - but none of them battered an eye as Gaz took your hand and made you gently pet one of the babies.
“They’re so tiny,” you whispered, almost to yourself, for once not hating or fearing Gaz. At least for right now, you were just in a moment together with him, doing something that you hadn’t expected would be that nice.
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itsa-me-lily · 1 day ago
Note
First: How sfw/nsfw are we allowed to go with asks and whatnot, as well as stuff you won't write? I'm not intending on sending anything crazy, I just don't wanna cross boundaries
Second: Every guy in my family (minus one), married in or born in, is/was military, and I have heard that it's not uncommon for military spouses to cheat on their partner, especially when deployed. I'm not saying dear reader is cheating or anything of the sort, but I could def see some fresh dumbass recruits trying to pull the legendary Lieutenant's wife, if only for bragging rights. Curious how that would shake out (would the recruits ever be seen again, who knows!)
TLDR for the first part, I'm okay with NSFW asks and you can find my list of no goes (as well as the master list for Military Program Spouse) here
Now for the second part
Content Warning; Discussion of size (kind of), discussions of cheating (kind of) (please let me know if I'm missing anything)
Also Reader is fat, like size 18/20 pants, like there's a jiggle no matter what she's doing (remember kids fat isn't a dirty word what size you are doesn't define your morality, your actions do)
Also also please know that my brain does not want to let go of Reader telling Simon "well we wouldn't be in this situation if you could pull bitches" but I don't think it's going to fit in this
Honestly the sex talk had gone better than you had anticipated. In the past when you had tried to explain being demisexual and what that meant for your sexual attraction to other people you'd gotten blank stares, been told you were just picky or that you were just talking about a crush that everyone got. You knew it wasn't, but it got old fast. And while Simon stared as you explained yourself, he didn't push or tell you that it was some new made up sexuality.
It was refreshing.
You weren't even that offended when Simon had stated he had no interest of sleeping with you. You'd come to accept that you weren't everyone's cup of tea, not everyone liked a little jiggle in the wiggle. So you'd be two people who legally shared the last name, roommates, broskis if you will.
You'd agreed that any extramarital activities had to be respectful, discreet, and that if it turned serious divorce was an option on the table. Or well, you listed out your ideas in what you thought was a logical manner and Simon just listened before grunting what you thought was an affirmative and then turning on the TV for some sort of sports game. You were a theater kid growing up, you weren't a fan of sport ball. So the two of you started your married lives with the ever perpetual hall pass.
Not that you ever used yours. Again there was the fact that you only felt any real attraction or desire once you had gotten to know someone, felt a connection that...intrigued your soul for lack of better phrasing. And you are a very self sufficient woman. People weren't typically banging down your door to...well bang, so really you just went about your days.
It was probably why you hadn't noticed the recruit flirting with you at first. At first it was just a polite nod and acknowledgement of who you were when you had to come to base to fill out paperwork. Then there were the times you'd run into him while walking through the neighborhoods. Private (or was he Second Private? You never really paid attention) Pearson was alright, a pretty boy who seemed to know it, given how he seemed to preen with attention once you caught on to what was happening. Yeah he was alright but nothing that really wanted to make you deal with the headache of dealing with two men in your life. Plus you were pretty sure he had mentioned something about working with Simon? You were not a person who shit where you ate.
So you played dumb when he tried to flirt with you, and never took him up on any offers to 'help' you around the house or to show you how to use the gym equipment, after hours of course. The cockiest had to have been when he offered to help you 'stretch' any time. The smile he wore when he offered that one was so slimy you felt like you needed a shower after.
It all came to a head one day in the mailroom. Somehow a random package had been delivered to the house instead of on base, and since Simon was out doing god knows what somewhere in the world it wasn't like he could take it with him. So you were doing your good deed of the day and dropping it off. Only to run into Pearson, who was with friends...even better.
You had tried to just smile politely and wave, acting like you were in the middle of running Very Important Errands. It didn't help much. Pearson and Co still came up to you like you were all the best of friends, Pearson even being so bold as to drape an arm across your shoulders, or he tried you. You side stepped him easily enough to his annoyance.
You lightly chit chatted, looking for an opening to excuse yourself. You'd be blunt if you had to, but you really didn't want to deal with any back lash for being a 'bitch'. Though maybe you should have. He must have sensed your deep rooted desire to get the fuck out of there, because Pearson put on the grosses looking grin, leaning in as if to share a secret.
"The boys and I were going to go out for some drinks tonight. Why don't you come with us? Promise we don't bite."
The last part was whispered liked it was a promise of the opposite. You honestly wanted to barf. A) Drinking wasn't really your scene. B) Pearson definitely wasn't your scene.
"As tempting as that sounds, sorry boys. I uh- I don't drink."
"Oh come on pretty girl, one drink won't hurt you."
You wanted to roll your eyes as Pearson tried to tempt you out, reaching to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. Thankfully you had heard little rumors that maybe the 141 was coming home. Simon wouldn't mind you using him as an excuse...probably.
"Really I can't. Simon should be coming home soon and I still have things I want to take care of before he's back."
Maybe it was the threat of their CO being back that caused all of them to freeze for a moment, giving you the opening to slip out from their little triangle they made, making your way to the exit. Pearson must have really been desperate, or just that stupid to practically shout after you.
"Come on, you really can't enjoy him more than me right? Doubt he's really all that great and impressive."
Oh that stopped you in your tracks. Simon Riley was a lot of things, annoying, stubborn, an asshole, rude, louder than the fucking heavens when he snored, a person who didn't care if he used up all the hot water, one could even say he was creepy at times. He didn't open up about things, and acted like socializing was the bane of his existence.
He had a sense of humor that people seldom understood, but he still entertained himself. Scared you half to death dozens of times over with how fucking quiet he was, like he was appearing out of thin air, but he'd try to knock to catch your attention if you were in the bedroom or bathroom. Had what was probably a herculean amount of strength in a single bear paw of his, but you'd seen him try to offer a finger for Tombo to sniff when the little curly mop got curious.
You plastered on the biggest polite smile you had, the one that boarder lined on looking a little crazy with how much it stretched your mouth, and spun on your feet to look at the trio of men who really tried to try you this day.
"You all know my husband."
You didn't actually wait for a response as you walked back to the men, who all started to look like they were regretting their choices.
"Lieutenant Riley. You know, Lieutenant "built like a brick shit house" Riley."
You stopped directly in front of Pearson, hands on your hips as you met his stare straight on, before looking him up and down slowly.
"Really what makes you think you can...measure up?"
The scrunch of your face at the end made it very clear that you had decided that the younger man was severely 'lacking' when it came to any kind of measuring. Clearly none of them had expected you to react like this, given that they just stared gobsmacked as you shrugged and waved them good bye with the tips of your fingers, happily making a sassy exit to your freedom.
Simon Riley was a lot of things, and he was your husband. And no one talked shit about your husband except you.
Edit;
There's a second part I want to add to this that I'll probably work on this weekend. I'm very out of the habit of writing so it takes me a hot minute to get stuff down the way I want it. Anyway I hope you like this! And remember
A) Being Fat doesn't make you good or bad
B) I am a greedy greedy goblin who loves getting asks
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deiastormborn · 3 days ago
Text
Gale of Waterdeep; A much needed look beneath the surface 
Hey all. This is a script for the video I made in defense of Gale. I never had a place to put the text version of it anywhere else, but... if Tumblr isn't a good place for it, then what is?
Warning: Long Read!
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________________________
Hi, my name is Stormborn. I’ve been playing Baldur’s Gate for some time, enjoyed it quite a bit. As much as I can appreciate every companion that the game has introduced, Gale of Waterdeep, a charming lil’ wizard, has caught my attention the most. At glance, he is this sarcastic happy-to-go man, always joking around, trying to do the right thing. But, the more you get to know him, the more you slowly uncover his trauma, as much as he, himself, is trying to deny it.
Honestly, I thought that Gale would be liked by many people, I genuinely expected him to be one of the most chosen companions, and one of the most romanced ones. But, to my surprise, I’ve been seeing him getting more hate than I anticipated. Some people call his way of speaking way too annoying and complicated, some people call him clingy and creepy, mostly due to the glitch that would skyrocket his approval of you, probing him to romance you. Genuinely, it is okay to dislike some companion in favor of the other one. But I could not get rid of the feeling that people just despise his guts unjustifiably. 
One of the main reasons, besides the ones I covered earlier, is that people hate his ‘obsession’ with Mystra, the goddess of magic he happened to romance. I saw people complain that he just cannot stop talking about her, even while you romance him, and I can’t help but wonder if people were paying attention to his story at all. And I cannot blame them, as Gale always portrays his romance with Mystra as something so special, so unique, and as something to be proud of. But, let me explain to why you should be able to judge his story for yourself, rather than simply listen to what he is saying.
Gale is a talented wizard, so talented that he got attention from Mystra herself for his talent of channeling the weave. The story says that he is so powerful, that he could potentially destroy a whole village by basically sneezing in its direction. However, we all need to remember that he got attention from Mystra at the very, very young age. If I am not mistaken, the first time Mystra clawed onto him was when he turned 16. Ever since then, Mystra was feeding him all kinds of praise, prompting him to seek power, ensuring him that he can become Mystra’s chosen, and, mind you, *started romancing him ever since*. It is not a secret that Gale was not the first, however, if you really think of it, such revelation can seriously mess with a mind of a teenager. Not only it might boost the self-esteem, but also make him think that he is better than anyone else. And, I assure you, it is exactly what Mystra wanted. By giving him some form of attention, minimum affection, she had Gale on the hook. And Gale, as a boy obsessed with magic, who has been worshiping Mystra before he even met her, didn’t require much effort in getting hooked. But here comes the problem: as much as it is uplifting to get a praise from a literal Goddess of all magic, it is also as equally devastating to get any kind of critique or a cold shoulder.
Mystra was messing with his mind, making him feel like, no matter how well he does, he can always do better, as he has so much potential. With such authority, Gale would believe her. And it would make him always chase something more to impress her, rather than settle and appreciate what he has. It is also a reason to why the whole mess with the Orb began in the first place. People seem to call Gale power hungry, which, as any companion in the game, it is possible for him to go down that route. But they seem to forget one important detail: Gale thought that the Orb was a missing relic of Mystra’s magic, and he wanted to, yet again, impress her by bringing it back. Please remember that Gale was still a young adult, if not a teenager, when this happened. And it would all be resolved if Mystra would not shatter his self-esteem as much as she did. So, he made a mistake, and the Orb became his burden. And yet again, rather than explain this to her ‘chosen one’, she basically banished him, and left him with no answers for many years to come.
Gale isolated himself to keep people around him safe, with nothing but the books and the cat for the company. I think I do not need to mention on how that can play with your mind, too. But, in spite of all, Gale’s blind loyalty and obsession with Mystra kept him wanting for more attention, more answers, so he kept seeking more power, and more ways to get Mystra’s approval. At the day you first meet him, this is the first time he has been amongst people. Yet he still kept his jolly appearance, messing around with Tav, and appreciating everything that surrounds him.
I do not know if this is obvious just yet, but Mystra has basically groomed the kid. If we look at the very definition of grooming, Grooming is when someone builds a relationship, trust and emotional connection with a child or young person so they can manipulate, exploit and abuse them. And it is most prominent when it comes from the place of higher authority. I think I do not need to explain that, in the fantasy setting, there is no higher authority than the God or a Goddess. Yet, for one reason or another, this seems to not be taken serious. And I think I have an explanation as to why.
When you talk to Gale about Mystra, or when you let him talk about her first, he is still full of admiration, obsession, and the unending pride. There is still some bitterness lingering somewhere in him, yet it Is not as powerful as any other feeling he has towards her. I’ve noticed people basically hating him for saying something like ‘Yeah, I banged Mystra, that’s pretty cool, right?’. But think of it this way: wouldn’t Mystra *want* him to think that it’s ‘pretty cool’? And who are we to say that it was the real Mystra he had an intimate moment with? For all we know, she might have conjured an illusion, to satisfy him and feed into his ego. If the romance between them was as real as Gale thinks it was, do you really think Mystra would just abandon him with no answers for a mistake such as this? After all, Gale was young, and had barely any experience. All he had was wizards, such as him, or more powerful than him, and her. If she truly cared about putting him to a right path, rather than using him for her needs, the outcome would be ever so different. 
I would also like to address that people do not think of it as a simple coping mechanism. Even if you look at the society these days, most of the time, when a man comes with a confession of, say, a woman taking advantage of him, it is often met with ‘wow dude, you got lucky’, rather than with a serious concern. Who are we to say that Gale, rather than simply try to reflect and recognize his relationship with Mystra as an illusion, didn’t just decide to get along with it and be proud instead? Even then, when you romance him further, he is slowly realizing that it was not as real as he once thought. In Gale’s own words: ‘there is no love between us. I was not the first, and I certainly won’t be the last’. Gale finally, ever so slowly, starts to understand that he was simply used by Mystra for his talent. Being a deity means that you are only powered by the followers you still have. It is in the god’s interests to keep people interested in them, or they will loose power. Using Gale, knowing he was an extremely skillful wizard, was in Mystra’s interests. She does not give him answers, but keeps him interested in her enough to keep him in her claws, spreading more words of her, attracting more people to follow her godhood. There was no real romance, she was interested in his power more than himself. And you can help him realize that.
But, with such dynamic comes a price, which also becomes more prominent when you play the game further: Gale never feels good enough. With the first chance he can sacrifice himself for a greater good, he takes it. He has no real appreciation of his life, he does not take it as something valuable. He is deeply depressed and traumatized. When a person moves away from the environment that scarred them, it can become extremely overbearing, difficult, and overwhelming. People also seem to act as if it is weird that, with any kind of hurt, Gale’s first reaction is to ‘blow himself up’. It doesn’t take much to know that he won’t do it if it were to mean that someone can get hurt, but he is saying that because, maybe, partially, he *wanted* to die. He has finally found appreciation amongst other people, who are not wizards like him, people who do not know him well, and people who do not want him to constantly be the best version of himself. He falls in love with Tav, because Tav is showing him kindness, and proving to him that he does not have to be someone that he is not to be loved. In that very vulnerable state, any kind of hurt or rejection hits you more. Not to mention that, the only time he ever says it, was after the night he spent with you. After he opened up, shared his fears, more of his past, even said out loud that, in truth, he does not want to die. He let himself be vulnerable, the most vulnerable he has probably been in years, so it is not a question of his ego being hurt: it is a situation where a man, who always kept to himself, has finally let someone in, and got hurt. I am sure one of us, at one point in life, said something like ‘well guess I go die’ as a joke. This is the only way Gale knows how to respond: joking about his pain. He does not mean it, but says it anyway, because it is the first thing that came to his mind. He has been a very reserved companion through the whole time, always seemed to know what to say, and he acted on an emotion after a very emotional night. 
It is also a fact that, even while he is slowly realizing that Mystra used him, he does not mind dying because she asked him to do so. That does not only prove a point that Mystra does not have any real regards to him other than a tool, but also that she was using him for her own sake. With The Absolute getting more followers, her power also weakens. The Absolute is a threat, not only because of the infection and danger to mere humans, but also to her godhood. And who better to deal with it than the man she has so methodically conditioned to do as she wishes? You would think that, a goddess as powerful as Mystra, could try to take care of things on her own. And yet again, the only time Mystra ever gives him any answers, is when she needs him to be used. That is, yet again, a definition of the grooming.
Gale will do anything for a little bit of appreciation, anything to be noticed, and we cannot blame him. This is why you, a player, as a Tav, have a power in you to make him realize that he, as he is now, is valid. It is almost as if Gale forgot that he is such a talented wizard after all the stuff with Mystra. You, as a player, have it in you to remind him. And once you do, Gale slowly separated himself from Mystra as her ex-lover, and only answers to her as his deity. After all, she is a goddess of all magic, it will be hard to reject her entirely.
Victims of grooming or any kind of abuse often can’t let go of the person who harmed them. They will talk about them, they will mention them, they might even try to grasp onto good things, or make it seem like bad things that happened weren’t really all that bad. Combine that with a constant feeling of never being good enough, and not knowing a genuine kindness outside of his very small circle, and you have Gale. A charming, sarcastic, jolly Wizard, who is also as ever troubled. 
Moving on to other topic that people seem to judge Gale for, is that, once a chance arrives, he starts grasping onto Godhood, wishing to become a God himself. It is also in that situation where he starts to say that he would have the power to completely overthrow Mystra. People seem to criticize him for his hunger for power, and also, altogether, call him ungrateful. I would like to add another opinion on that: while Gale is slowly realizing that he was being used, he went through all 5 stages of grief. But here comes the other one, that is mentioned much less: revenge. He wants to show Mystra that she was wrong about him. He wants to prove to her that, after all this time, he *was* good, if not better than her. On top of that, he is still trying to fix his never-ending self-esteem issues. While he is seeking godhood, he still thinks that, him, as he is now, will never be enough, and only by becoming God he can truly become worthy… of anything. If you romance him, he later apologizes to you, but also asks to let him explain to why the Godhood would be good for him, and you, as a couple. Gale wants to give you everything. The entire world. He wants to be the very best version of himself, for you, his lover. He thinks that he can only achieve that by becoming a God. He doesn’t realize that, maybe, without it, he can still be a valuable partner. He even talks to you about it, openly, saying that you deserve better. It is, yet again, in your power to remind him that you do not need him to be anything more than he is now. And, rather than with anger, he answers to you with a surprise. He truly, genuinely, can’t believe that you would take him as he is now. This is how deeply his trauma runs in his mind. And, once he finally believes you, this is where he finally calms down. This is finally when he accepts himself, and lets it all go. He is not repaired, but he is on his path towards healing. All because you, a player, convinced him, and reminded him of his value.
I think Gale’s approach towards things have deeply changed the perception of the players. Because he is in so much denial, people seem to just go along with what he says. He is proud of sleeping with Mystra - so people take it for what it is. Gale might not be your type, or even the most interesting companion to you compared to others, but I truly, genuinely think, that the hate he has received has been a little too much. Every companion has a burden, everyone expresses it differently, on their own pace. Gale has chosen the approach that makes the most sense in his situation. He is just a guy who was thrown into a mess made by the Goddess he worshiped at the young age. He is just someone who is trying to do good. And I hope that a small essay such as this helped and shed some light on his story. 
Men can be groomed, they can be taken advantage of. I think it is our duty to also recognize it, and show a little patience. After all, Gale is not the first example of such abuse. And, sadly, won’t be the last.
Video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HAnZHJtYkcg
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sturnina · 1 day ago
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Deep, drunk, and... truehearted.
Chris Sturniolo x Reader
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This is not where the life of the party is. But it‘s where the chill people… chill and take a breather. Not where the smoke breaks happen, though, that‘s important.
You know very well why you‘re here. Why he‘s here is a mystery though. How you’ve ended up talking to a stranger about rebirth in a kitchen on a Saturday night at a house party is also a mystery. Not that you mind.
“It‘s not even about the question of whether or not you believe in it,“ you say, sipping your beer. It‘s disgusting but not worth looking for something better. It gets you drunk just fine.
“‘cause you can‘t remember it anyway?“ the guy asks. He‘s had less alcohol than you but his speech is more slurred while he‘s leaning against the counter. You’re sitting on the kitchen island opposite him, holding the beer can between your knees.
“Noo like… why would you believe in life after death?“ you ask, lazily gesturing to him.
“A second chance,“ he replies without hesitation. “Or, ya know. Another chance. ‘cause maybe ’s not your first chance in the first place…“
“Exactly!” you exclaim, throwing your hands up and almost spilling your beer. “Exactly. The thing- the thing is, it‘s always gonna be your first chance-”
“Huh,” the guy slowly says, frowning deeply. “Huh?”
“Yeah!” you nod enthusiastically. “Because the thing is-”
You get interrupted by another guy walking in. Normally, you wouldn’t care, but as you glance over your shoulder and see him, your eyes widen. He looks the exact same as the guy in front of you. Fuck, you‘re not that drunk, right?
“God, I‘ve been searching for you for like twenty minutes. Thought you were banging someone in one of the bedrooms,“ the new guy snaps.
Now that he walks closer, you start seeing differences between the two. He looks exhausted, but not physically. His shoulders are tense, and the entire way he holds himself is… different. Maybe it‘s just because the other guy is drunk.
“I was talking,“ guy #1 says. God, he‘s slurring badly. Is he going to get in trouble? “Deep, drunk, and… truehearted talks.“
You snort. “Truehearted? That doesn’t even start with ‘d‘, dipshit.“
“Alright. We‘re leaving,“ guy #2 says, grabbing the first guy‘s drink. “Sorry for whatever shit he‘s said,“ he adds, looking at you.
“Huh? Nah, it‘s been great. He‘s a great listener,“ you say, winking at guy #1. He grins stupidly.
And then guy #2 ushers him out of the kitchen, making him leave. You don‘t try to stop them, despite knowing that the party won‘t be half as fun without him.
Maybe you’ll see him again soon, who knows?
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gabessquishytum · 1 day ago
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HI GABE recently my brother's choir presented "Carmen" and the 1800s' sexism of it all made me a little mad, so here I am, taking it for inspiration and making it Gay™ so that I can fecking go to sleep without fuming lol
Dream is someone who likes to party and knows how to have a good time - he dances from lover to lover without much care for "permanence". He frequents most of the bars and clubs around London, knows most of the people working on these places, he does drugs, does people, and most of the regulars knows him and his ways: you can have him for a single night and be happy for it, but do not try to wish for more than that.
Enter Alex, who had recently lost his father and broken up with his secret boyfriend of a couple years, and is trying to go out more and explore his sexuality, and has the misadventure of having his first one night stand be Dream. Needless to say, he becomes obsessed and tries repeatedly to have Dream's attention for himself, following him around the bars and clubs, insinuating himself in conversations, and when eventually he gets banned from most places, he starts waiting for Dream outside.
Hob, on the other hand, as a regular in a couple of the clubs Dream frequents, has known of him for a while but never tried to tap that, no matter how tempting he looks. They exchange a few words here and there but Hob wishes for things more permanent than a single night, and with the way he falls hard and fast, he knows having Dream once and never again would break his heart.
Things come to a head when Alex and two men try to corner Dream when he's leaving with his partner of the night - it's late and dark and the partner dips the moment it's clear the men are there for Dream only, and Alex still tries to reason with Dream to give them a chance, but when Dream refuses and calls him crazy, he orders the men to grab him and throw him inside the car, and Dream is frantic trying to get away from them—
And Hob appears out of nowhere like an avenging angel with three more guys, punching the man closer to Dream in the face and throwing his entire body against the other one, his friends holding them on the ground while the police is called. Alex unfortunately escapes during the brawl like the coward he is.
After that a new normal is stablished - Dream agrees to let Hob accompany him and the partner of the time their place if it's close enough, or just standing outside with them until their cab arrives. They start talking during these walks/waits, developing a friendship neither of them expected. Dream shares about the parts of his life he keeps separated from his night persona, Hob shares about his ex-wife and time of homelessness, and I don't know if I want to make the end Carmen Canon, make Dream bleed out on Hob's arms after Alex stabs him (don't worry, he gets better lol) or just make them develop a relationship where Dream still does as (and who) he pleases but this time with Hob by his side, while Alex goes back to Paul, the only person who seems to have the patience to deal with him, and begs his ex to take him back
We must always gay-ify the classics, if we can! It makes them so much better!
I feel like as per Carmen canon, it would be right to have Alex attempt to murder Dream in a jealous rage! He's seen that Dream is growing closer to Hob, and although they may still be sleeping with other people, it's entirely clear that they love each other deeply. They're friends, confidants, maybe even soulmates, and Hob seems to understand Dream so perfectly. Alex can't bear the idea of Dream loving anyone else, so he decides that Dream must die. If Alex can't have him then no one can.
Hob wishes that he was the one dying as he holds Dream in his arms, begging for the ambulance to arrive sooner, before it's too late. Dream is so thin and pale anyway, but with the blood-loss he seems even more vulnerable. Hob wants nothing more than to give his own life for Dream, but all he can do is try to keep him warm and stem the bleeding. He prays that Alex's aim was bad, and that the knife didn't hit anything vital. He practically shakes Dream to keep him awake. Promises him that everything will be alright.
In the hospital where he finally wakes up, Dream has vague recollections of Hob’s lips pressing against his skin. He's pretty sure that there was an "I love you" somewhere along the way. And Hob is still right beside him, asleep in the tiny hospital chair.
Dream loves his freedom, his transience and his ability to chose whatever person or people he fancies every night. But it also occurs to him that he really loves Hob. And maybe, the two things can exist together. Why shouldn't be have everything?
One thing is for sure - Alex is lucky that he's going to prison, because Hob would gladly kill him, if he had the chance.
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schrijverr · 19 hours ago
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No, Daddy, I Want Papi’s Helmet
Divergence from chapter 18 to 19, where Chris gives the secret away when he’s staying at the 118 firehouse after Abuela broke her hip. In this universe, the PT switch didn’t happen, facilitating the reveal.
On AO3.
Ships: Buddie (pre-slash)
Warnings: ableism mention, homophobia mention
~~~
Eddie buckles Chris in with tense shoulders and Buck wishes he could make it better, wishes he never suggested it with Chris in hearing range, because then Eddie wouldn’t have felt obliged to say yes.
Buck could have just gone back to the station and convinced Bobby that Eddie really needed to stay with his Abuela and he’d be fine without a partner for the day. He feels like an idiot for opening his big mouth and making Eddie uncomfortable. Both of them know the chances of any of this ending well are improbably low.
So, he anxiously watches Eddie fuss with the seatbelt, before he closes the car door. Wanting to know where his head is at, before they walk into the lion’s den, Buck asks: “What are you thinking?”
“That this is going to be a shit show,” Eddie answers honestly, rubbing his face.
“It’s not determined they’re going to find out.”
“He calls you papi, Buck.”
Okay, yeah, that is a fair point. It’s pretty damning if a child you’ve supposedly only known exists for a week or two calls you papi. People are going to want an explanation and Buck isn’t going to be able to come up with a good one that doesn’t give everything away. If Chris was still a baby and couldn’t talk, this whole thing would be easier.
The thought triggers a heartbreaking idea in his brain, but he still has to say it. Has to offer Eddie this out, even if it will tear himself to shreds inside. “We can ask him not to do that. It’s only for a little over an hour by the time we get there,” he suggests, aiming for causal and probably missing by a mile.
“That’s not fair on you.” Eddie is already shaking his head before Buck is done talking. For a moment, Buck fears Eddie found him out, but then Eddie adds. “And what sort of message would we be sending if they did find out? I don’t want Hen to think we’re raising Chris to be homophobic, just because we’re straight.”
It’s adorable how determined Eddie looks. Every time Buck is reminded how hard Eddie is trying to be a better father than his own, Buck falls in love with him all over again.
“Alright,” he says. “We’ll leave this one up for the universe, then. But we should probably get the good kind of bribery coffee. We’re probably gonna need it.”
Eddie throws his head back in a laugh, before he agrees. Then they get into the car and drive off, Buck behind the wheel as always.
Buck pulls up into everyone’s favorite coffee shop that they usually don’t go to, since it’s slightly out of their way. Both of them are nervous, that much is clear, even if they try not to be. While he waits in line, he calls Bobby, explaining the situation as vaguely as he can, while still getting the results he needs.
He’s pretty sure Eddie is as nervous as he is when they get to the firehouse, but if he’s nervous, Eddie will only get more nervous and if they’re both nervous, Chris will get nervous. So, he stuffs any sort of nervousness down and plasters on a big smile as he gets out the car and waits for Eddie to help Chris out of his seat.
They’re going to give this some semblance of a try, so Buck doesn’t walk as near as he usually does, when they enter under the curious gazes of the others.
His own shoulders want to tense, but he stops them and Eddie relaxes slightly when he seems at ease, so he keeps it up. He loudly greets everyone as he usually would. Normalcy is key. “We come bearing bribery coffee.”
“I would say who cares about coffee when you’re bringing such an esteemed guest, but I really need my caffeine fix,” Hen jokes, a big gentle smile on her face.
She probably knows how nerve wracking it is to introduce people to your kid and Buck smiles at the gesture. He is about to make a joke about Chris being way more important than some coffee and more than enough of a fix to get you through the day, but stops himself. It’s not his place right now.
Eddie, however, is in sync with him as ever and picks up on it. Clumsily joking in his stead: “Hey, Chris is way better than coffee.” He looks slightly mortified at himself, but Buck and Chris both grin widely.
However, no one else seems to notice and Hen just laughs quietly: “I believe you,” before she turns to Chris and holds out her hand. “Hi, I’m Hen. I heard a lot about you, you’re a real smart kid.”
That was partly a lie, since Buck hadn’t been able to brag and Eddie is still private and not great at talking about emotions. But no one is going to call her out on that when Chris is smiling the way he is.
“Hello, I’m Christopher,” he says, shaking her hand. “You’re really cool. Daddy and papi say so.”
Hen pauses for a second at that and Buck and Eddie both hold their breath. She quickly glances over to Eddie – they worked hard for Buck to not even be considered – and sees his the apprehension, before quickly covering any reaction and smiling as she tells Eddie: “Oh, I like him.”
Their shoulders relax. Buck assumes that Hen must think Chris just accidentally outed Eddie and is helping him by pretending to not have noticed. He appreciates that about her, not just because it works in their favor.
Chimney follows her lead, sending a quick glance between her and Eddie, before swooping in. “Hey, what about me? I’m cool.” He holds out his hand. “I’m Chimney.”
“Chimney! I know you. You have a silly name,” Chris informs him seriously, getting laughs from everyone.
The tension has been broken and Chris easily accepted without any realizations. Buck thinks they might actually get through this okay, going to grin at Eddie, only to find him looking choked up at the three moving towards the stairs as Chris asks all about the ambulance.
Buck knows how nervous Eddie always is about people meeting Chris. Not because he is ashamed of him, but because people always seem to judge Eddie as if there is something wrong with him, with both of them, which is fucking terrible and makes Buck want to deck whoever makes Eddie feel like that.
Getting this easy acceptance from everyone must mean the world for him. Buck should know, he’s in the same boat. There isn’t anything to say, though, so Buck just gives his shoulder a comforting squeeze, before jogging to catch up with everyone.
Chris is determined to get up the stairs by himself and Buck easily lets him as Chris chats away about what he’s studying at school and what his daddy and papi told him about the trucks, asking a thousand more questions about the ambulances, since Hen and Chimney know them better.
Every time he mentions papi and daddy, he sees how Hen and Chimney send looks to Eddie, clearly waiting for him to acknowledge it, but he never does. Buck is pretty sure they’re dying to ask, but aren’t going to with Chris there. It makes him dread what will happen after Maddie comes to pick him up.
From how Chris is talking, it’s clear that both his dads are firefighters. When it comes to fun facts – of which Chris has many, Buck is so proud of him – Chris always starts with ‘Papi said…’ And Buck is pretty sure none of them are buying that Eddie has been supplying him with those facts.
In these moments, Buck is glad Chris was too young to realize it’s a little odd that Buck is papi, because that might be the only thing throwing everyone off their scent right now.
Then Bobby comes over and Buck’s stomach tightens. This will be another hurdle. Jovially, Bobby says: “What’s this? I don’t remember asking the chief for reinforcements. You any good with a hose, kid?”
“I can try,” Chris smiles and everyone chuckles.
“Alright,” Bobby smiles back, because Chris’s smile is infectious.
And even though Buck knows that Bobby doesn’t know that’s his kid too, it makes him fly that Bobby seems to be taken with him immediately. Buck craves Bobby’s approval so bad and having Bobby approve of his kid is the best feeling.
Eddie on the other hand, tenses and gets up as he explains: “So sorry, Cap. Maddie, uhm, Buck’s sister is getting off work early so she can take him, before my tía can, but you know LA traffic, so until then w- I- I didn’t know where to take him.”
“Yeah, you did. Right here. Buck gave me a heads up. I already cleared it with the chief,” Bobby says, nodding towards Buck, who smiles at Eddie, trying not to look too love struck when Eddie looks back with those big, beautiful brown eyes.
For a moment, it looks like Eddie is going to cry, but the attention gets pulled away from him before he does by Bobby asking: “Did you get a tour of the trucks yet, kid?”
“No,” Chris answers, hopefully excited.
“Well then, what do you say about a tour?” Bobby asks him.
“Can I?” Chris asks immediately, looking absolutely thrilled at the idea. He hasn’t caught on that no one seems to realize Buck is also his dad, and while he directs the question at both of them, he looks over at Eddie first, since he’s standing next to Bobby.
“Course, we can look at the trucks,” Eddie smiles.
Before Chris can look to him for confirmation as well, Buck grabs Chris under his armpits and swings him over the back of the couch, putting him on his feet again with a, “Let’s go, Superman!” getting a delighted shriek from Chris as expected.
It’s probably a little too familiar for a kid that he supposedly doesn’t know that well, but Buck ignores whatever looks get send his way. He loves kids. And he loves this kid in particular. It already sucks enough that he can’t be as loudly proud as he wants to be. Let him have this.
Eddie steps up next to him soon enough, asking: “Wanna walk downstairs by yourself too, mijo?”
“No. Carry me?” Chris asks and Buck is so proud of him. They’ve raised him well, asking for what he wants, what he needs, when he has to, and doing it by himself when he can and wants to.
“Yeah, here.” Eddie sweeps Chris up in his arms, putting him on his hips and handing his crutches over to Buck with practiced ease.
It’s so natural that neither of them even realize they shouldn’t be doing that here, until Chimney claps Buck on the back and grins: “Always in sync, you two, huh?”
“Haha, I guess,” Buck blushes, hurrying down the stairs after Eddie and Chris before anyone can study his face too closely.
While Chris had the most questions about the ambulances, he wants to see the engine and ladder truck the most. It’s what he’s heard all the stories about it. And he wants to do it on his own, demanding to be put down, the second they get downstairs. Buck is glad he hurried after them, so he can hand Chris his crutches before he even has to ask for them.
Chris clatters over to the engine, looking at all the stuff that he can see, excitedly pointing at the hose as he says: “It has a loop, just like you said!”
“You know why, kid?” Bobby asks, looking pleased that his way of doing things is important enough to Chris to get pointed out by him.
“Papi said it’s because if you leave a loop and stick your arm through, it makes for a faster carry and speed is important,” Chris recites.
“That’s right,” Bobby smiles.
Chris proceeds to ask more questions, already being way more knowledgeable about the vehicles than most kids his age. He’s been hearing firefighter stories for a year and a half already and when Buck’s excited about a topic, he pulls Chris with him and vise versa. They feed on each other’s curiosity and energy.
Just when they think they’re getting off scot free, Chris wanders over to where everyone’s turnouts are gasping: “Can I try on a real firefighter helmet?”
“Of course, here you go,” Eddie says, grabbing his own, even though Chris is standing in front of Buck’s helmet, and moving to put it on his head.
“No, daddy, I want papi’s helmet,” Chris protest. “You’re still a probie, he’s a real-real firefighter.”
Buck is pretty sure that if the ‘oh fuck’ didn’t hit Eddie at that moment, he would have been more offended by that, going to give Buck a playful glare, before what Chris said registers and he instead looks at everyone else with wide eyes.
There’s a beat of silence wherein everyone tries to piece together what they just heard and process what that means. Their eyes rapidly go from Chris to Eddie to Buck, then back to Eddie to Buck again, then to Chris.
Fuck, we’re so caught, Buck thinks.
However, the silence isn’t over yet and he’s not going to let Chris feel like he did something wrong. So, he acts like this isn’t a huge thing that just got revealed, instead smiling at Chris as he grabs his own helmet and carefully puts it on Chris’s head. “There you go, Superman, a real-real firefighter helmet. Way cooler than daddy’s probie helmet, right?”
Eddie catches on to what he’s doing, unfreezing himself and forcing himself to act casual. “You know there’s no difference between the helmets, right? I also have a real-real firefighter helmet.”
“I know,” Chris smiles, looking absolutely adorable in the over-sized helmet. “Papi said only the Captain has a different helmet, but it’s about the idea.”
It seems that a repeat of ‘papi said’ is enough to unpause the others, who have been watching Buck and Eddie brush this whole thing off with great confusion. It was such a smooth blasé turn of events that they almost started to think they imagined it. But no, Chris is still very much there, in Buck’s helmet, calling him papi and reciting his facts.
“Papi?” Bobby finds his voice first, though he only manages the word, butchering its pronunciation slightly.
Chris doesn’t seem to notice how the vibe has shifted very quickly and just nods proudly, helmet nearly falling off. “Daddy and papi are both firefighters, but daddy’s still on his probationary period.” He slows down on the big words, carefully sounding them out. “They’re heroes.”
Despite the situation, Buck can’t help the pleased smile and blush that appear at the declaration. It will always feel good to hear his son be so proud of him. Of both of them.
“So you- so you two…” Chim starts, then trails off, pointing between Buck and Eddie with a confused look. It’s as if he isn’t sure where to start asking.
Before anyone can figure out what to ask, the alarm starts ringing and they all stare up at the flashing lights for a second like caught animals.
Buck snaps out of it first. He knows they’re in deep shit, but they need to help people first. It’s a small fender bender, shouldn’t be anything too traumatizing to Chris, but he’s not going to make it worse by going over Bobby’s head. So, he asks: “Am I man behind, or are we taking Chris with us?”
“We can take him with us,” Bobby decides. These accidents are often nothing big, but if there are a lot of cars, they need the extra hands. And they’re already next to the trucks anyway.
Besides, while his head might still be reeling, a small part of him looks between Buck and Chris and suddenly sees all the similarities. The way Chris was religiously asking questions and spouting facts moments ago suddenly very familiar. Much like his papi, he can’t deny Chris the opportunity to see everything in action. The thought of having a grandkid intruding on his brain without his permission.
With that decision made, Buck gently pulls the helmet from Chris’s head and puts it on his own, before lifting Chris into the truck and smiling: “Save my seat, alright, buddy?”
“Sí, papi,” Chris smiles back, legs kicking excitedly at being in the truck.
The others only hear the exchange, too busy with pulling on their turnouts. Since Buck had a delayed start, the others have already climbed in when he gets there. Eddie pulls Chris onto his lap while Buck climbs in, before handing him back, so Buck can buckle him in next to him.
Everyone is watching the exchange as if it’s something alien and Buck wants to snap at them to stop it, because Chris has gotten enough of that as it is. However, he knows it’s not because of Chris that they’re looking at them like that – well, it is, but not like that – and snapping isn’t going to help them when they’re in enough trouble as it is.
They pull out of the firehouse at record speed and Chris gives a loud cheer, clearly thrilled to be a part of this. Despite the situation, Buck smiles broadly and pulls out his phone to take a picture of Chris with the huge headphones on in the back of the fire engine.
This is sadly taken as an invitation to start asking questions, of which they must have many now that everyone has had the time to gather their wits.
Hen starts it off, asking: “So, when did the whole papi thing start?” A valid question, since it would be quite the leap to have taken after learning about Eddie’s son a few weeks ago with the earthquake.
Before Buck or Eddie can start, Chris is already explaining: “Well, papi was Evan first when he worked with the chickies, but then mommy left,” Chris’s lip wobbles for a second, but he braves on, “and papi stayed forever. But he was still Evan, but then he and daddy got married and Ms. Jane said that made him my daddy too, but daddy was already daddy, so he’s papi.”
The answer does nothing to get them out of trouble, in fact, it probably only gets them deeper into trouble. However, Buck’s heart can’t help but do a happy little flip at Chris’s confidence in stating he’s staying forever.
“Married? But what about-” Chimney starts to loudly say something, before cutting himself off. He looks at Chris uncomfortably, then at Eddie, who is giving him a confused look, trying to guess what the fuck Chimney is on about.
Buck, however, can take a guess and cringes slightly. Still, the last thing he wants is for them to think they watched him cheat on Eddie for his first few months at the 118. That is never the kind of man he wants to be. Never.
So, he clarifies: “Yeah. We got married as friends. Great tax benefits and stepparent adoption. This little guy is legally half mine,” he grins, ruffling Chris’s hair.
“Uh-huh,” Chris nods excitedly. “We went to court and it was all official and we went to the courthouse too. They made daddy and papi kiss, it was really silly.”
Both Eddie and Buck blush at the reminder, though Buck supposes they’re blushing for very different reasons. He’s honestly happy if his wedding day kiss is the only kiss he’ll ever get. He treasures the memory. Eddie probably not so much. Buck tries not to think about it.
Hen looks between the two of them, clearly not believing it. She says: “You got married for the tax benefits and for adoption?” her voice asking why the fuck they would do that.
“Yup,” Buck answers, trying to act casual. Chris is still right there and they’ve already dragged up Shannon leaving today, he wants to spare him as many reminders, but he needs the others to stop asking questions. So, he slings his arm around Chris and smiles at him, Chris smiling back. “So, me and Superman here could continue to hang out while daddy was out saving people, isn’t that right?”
“Yeah!” Chris cheers, thankfully taking the comment as not something to be sad about because papi isn’t sad about it. “Daddy took care of everyone, giving band aids to all the soldiers.”
Realization dawns on everyone’s faces as they figure out Buck raised Chris while Eddie was out on his tour in the army. Eddie looks like he always does when someone reminds him of having to leave Chris behind; devastated, but locking it up. However, is face softens slightly at Chris’s unwavering support and recount of what he did.
The air gets awkward now, everyone unsure what to ask, wanting to get all the details, but not wanting to interrogate Buck and Eddie in front of their kid.
After a few moments, Bobby clears his throat and changes the subject, telling them about the accident they’re driving up to. He also tells Chris all about the headsets and the communication system, with as much flair as he usually has for school trips, maybe a little more. Seeing it makes Buck’s heart warm and he hopes they haven’t fucked it all up entirely.
They arrive at the accident and everyone gets out. Except for Eddie and Chris after a look between him and Buck to check who’s gonna stay behind with him.
As Buck walks away, he hears Bobby say: “I’ll watch Chris. I need you out there with Buck. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of him.”
“Yeah, daddy, you got to have papi’s back, right?” Chris says, which must be enough to convince Eddie, because soon enough he’s at Buck’s side.
While they work, they keep their heads down and stay quiet. Both feel like scolded school boys and they don’t want to get more attention on them than necessary.
From time to time they shoot a look towards Chris, who looks to be having the time of his life listening to Bobby, who is smiling as well as he explains what’s going on. Buck hopes that’s a good sign, hopes that means Bobby isn’t too mad at them. At him. Buck hates the idea of Bobby being mad at him.
Hen and Chimney go with the ambulance to a nearby hospital with one of their patients, so it’s just the four of them in the rig back. Bobby is allowing Chris to sit up front with him, letting him pull the horn even though he’s usually against such frivolous use of equipment, much to Chris’s delight.
Both Buck and Eddie watch nervously, with Eddie sending Buck a look asking ‘what does that mean?’ and Buck sending a look back that conveys ‘I don’t know, but maybe something good?’
When they get to the firehouse, Buck gets a notification on his phone. “Maddie says she’s held up and is going to be a little later.”
“Looks like you’re going to be hanging out with us a little longer, kid,” Bobby tells Chris.
“I don’t mind,” Chris grins broadly.
“Of course, you don’t,” Eddie says fondly, ruffling Chris’s curls. “The inside of the rig can be dirty, so let’s go wash our hands, yeah?”
“Okay,” Chris says easily and follows Eddie out of the way, leaving Buck alone with Bobby.
He can’t blame him for the smooth escape. Still, he is nervous when he turns to Bobby and asks: “So…”
“You have a good kid,” Bobby starts, surprising him. “I see he gets his curiosity from you.”
Buck flushes with pride as well as embarrassment. “Oh, uh- Chris isn’t mine. Well, not biologically, I- I don’t think-”
“Buck,” Bobby cuts him off. “You still have an impact on him. You’ve been raising him for quite a while already from what I understand. He gets things from you.”
“Thank you, then,” Buck says with a bashful smile, before he carefully checks: “So, you’re not mad?”
“Oh, no, I’m pissed off you’d keep something like this from all of us when Eddie started working here, but I do hope you didn’t keep this from us before that, because we made you uncomfortable.”
“No, no, that was me getting in my own head,” Buck assures him. “I knew you guys wouldn’t judge, I just didn’t know how to explain. And I am sorry, you know. For lying about it. We just wanted to work together and we thought you’d retract the offer if you knew.”
“I probably would have,” Bobby agrees. “But you two can clearly keep it professional in the field and your teamwork is truly something. If it’s not romantic, I can make a case for you two to the brass.”
Buck blushes again, twisting feeling in his gut. “Oh, no, it’s definitely nothing romantic. Just two married guys, being friends.” He wants to smack himself in the face for his reply. He’s not even lying, but he is being weird about it and Bobby is going to see right through him.
“Uh-huh,” Bobby raises a brow. Then too conversationally, he asks: “So was Eddie the girl, who was in that trap with her parents?”
At that, Buck freezes, he had all but forgotten about that. And he didn’t think Bobby would have remembered either. However, he’s totally right and now both of them know it and Buck basically confessed to wanting more with Eddie. Shit.
“You love him, don’t you?” Bobby asks. Before he can answer, he adds: “Now, don’t lie to me. I see it in the way you look at him, even before I knew all this.”
Buck panics slightly and he says: “You can’t tell him.”
“I won’t,” Bobby promises, putting a hand on his shoulder. “But remember what I said back then, I said you’re ready to have those things and, by how you’re raising Chris, you were more than ready. You stepped inside with Eddie a long time ago. You’re ready for a next step too.”
“Thank you, Bobby, but it’s not like that for Eddie. He’s my best friend, but nothing else. He’s straight, it’s not going to happen,” Buck answers.
“I wouldn’t count it out.” Bobby says cryptically, before clapping him on the back and walking off. On his way to the loft, he runs into Eddie and Chris and he asks: “You up for a grilled cheese, kid?”
“Yes, please,” Chris cheers.
“Then let’s go,” Bobby smiles the two of them going up the stairs.
Meanwhile Eddie makes his way over to Buck so he can get out of his turnouts, Buck also still dressed in his own. He must look kind of stupid, the way he stands there, because Eddie pauses and asks: “Are you okay? Did Bobby say anything?” He looks more and more nervous. “Are we fired?”
That snaps Buck out of it and he quickly says: “No, no, not fired. Bobby’s gonna make a case for us with the brass, since it’s not romantic. He is pissed though. That we lied.”
“Okay, that’s good,” Eddie nods, oblivious to Buck’s crisis as he steps out of his turnouts.
Not wanting to seem weird, Buck quickly follows his lead, until they’re walking up the stairs, shoulders knocking into each other. It’s comforting. Familiar. Buck doesn’t want to lose that. He studies Eddie, trying to see what Bobby saw, but he can’t find it. It’s just Eddie, as he’s always been.
Naturally, Eddie notices him looking, giving him two wide, confused, beautiful brown doe eyes as he asks: “Do I have something on my face or something?”
“Nah,” Buck says casually after a few moments, “just trying to imagine what you’d look like as a real-real firefighter.”
Immediately Eddie’s expression falls into something more deadpan and annoyed. “You put that idea in his head, you know, with your probie bullshit.”
“I don’t know, Eddie, seems to me like you just still have a ways to go,” Buck grins with as much little shit energy as he can.
“You’re the worst,” Eddie grins back, pushing him slightly, though immediately catching him, before he can do as much as stumble.
At this point, they’ve reached the top of the stairs and find Bobby presenting Chris with a plate of grilled cheeses with a flourish. “Here you go. What do you think?” he asks, awaiting Chris’s judgment.
Chris takes one bite, before he beams up. “It’s very tasty.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” Bobby ruffles his curls. Buck imagines that this is what it would be like to have Bobby as a grandparent and the thought makes something twist inside him. By that time, Bobby has spotted Buck and Eddie and calls over: “You two also want a grilled cheese for lunch?”
“Yes, please,” Buck replies, shaking it off and skipping forwards.
Soon after, there’s a plate of grilled cheeses on the table and the four of them are sitting around it. The adults are listening to Chris about his latest school project, any interrogation of the family unit he’s a part of shelved for now.
At some point, Hen and Chimney return, joining the table. Chimney is still looking between Buck and Chris as if it’s the weirdest thing he’s ever encountered – Buck tries not to be too offended – while Hen seems more comfortable about the whole thing, though she sends glances in Eddie’s and Buck’s direction from time to time.
The grilled cheeses are being eaten when Maddie comes up the stairs, greeting everyone. Buck smiles and waves at her, before turning to Chris, steadying him as he gets out of his chair. He hands him his crutches and goes on one knee in front of him, smoothing out his clothes and pressing a kiss on his forehead as he says: “Be good for your tía Maddie now, okay, Superman?”
“I will, papi,” Chris promises.
Maddie, who’s been getting closer pauses for a moment, before her eyes snap to Eddie. Eddie pauses under her gaze. She hisses: “Evan is papi? He’s the husband?”
Well, if Chris hadn’t given it away, Maddie would have it seems. And because Eddie is an asshole, who has the ability to lie to Maddie, he puts on a faux-innocent look and says: “Yes, he is. Didn’t you know that? I thought you must have realized.”
“No, I did not,” Maddie says lowly, turning to Buck. Buck swallows, but straightens his spine defiantly anyway. Maddie asks him: “Why didn’t I know that?”
“I thought you were being homophobic,” Buck answers honestly.
“What?” Maddie sounds almost offended.
“What was I supposed to think? I got there after Eddie picked up Chris and mentioned me and you didn’t say a word. Nothing.”
“Of course that’s not what I was doing. Eddie asked me not to tell anyone. I wasn’t going to out him!”
“Oh, that makes a lot more sense, actually.”
“Thank you,” Maddie says forcefully. Then she does turn back to Eddie and goes: “What are your intentions with my baby brother?”
Eddie has just started to relax, but freezes all over. Before it can get nasty, Buck jumps in quickly. “It is not like that, Mads. Me and Eddie are friends. Married as friends. And I’ll explain everything later, I promise. But we’re on the clock. Please, just take your nephew home.”
Maddie puffs herself up, gearing up to protest before the last part of that sentence hits and she looks at Chris with big awe-like eyes. As if she has never seen him before. In a way, she hadn’t. She’s hung out with him a few times, but not as her nephew. That’s her nephew. Buck has a kid. Her baby brother is a dad and has a kid and she missed that, but now she gets to know him.
The fight leaves her and she puts on a smile. “I’d love nothing more. What do you say, we get some ice cream. It’s an aunt’s job to spoil their nephews, you know.”
“Ice cream!” Chris cheers, making his way over to her.
“Don’t fall for his pout, he’s only allowed two scoops,” Eddie calls out bravely. “Thank you so much for taking him,” he adds quickly.
“We’re getting three,” Maddie informs Chris cheerfully.
“Be wary of the sugar rush,” Buck warns her.
“We’ll be fine, now stop worrying,” Maddie calls back, having reached the top of the stairs.
They all watch the duo go down the stairs, waving and calling out goodbyes. As they go, Eddie turns to Buck and says: “She never babysat on her own before, has she?”
“Yeah, not since she was a kid with energy herself. She has no clue what she just got into with that promise,” Buck agrees.
“Oef, good luck.”
“Ah, her mistake,” Buck shrugs. “Maybe she’ll be so tired when we come to pick up Chris that she won’t have the energy to be mad.”
“God, I hope so.”
“Well, you two shouldn’t be worrying about her right now,” Hen suddenly speaks up behind them. “We want answers. Now.”
With matching apprehensive looks, they turn around to face everyone. Buck feebly says: “I think we’ve gotten most of the basic information out there.”
“Not good enough,” Hen says. “Come, sit, and spill.”
“I’m not a dog,” Buck pouts as he goes to do what he’s told.
“You could’ve fooled me,” Chimney grins patting his back.
“Oh fuck off.”
Eddie comes to sit next to him, crossing his arms defensively. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything,” Chimney snorts. “Come on, you can’t just drop being married with a kid – even as friends – for god knows how long on us, not to mention lying about even knowing each other, and expect us to just shrug it off.”
“Well, there isn’t much more to add,” Eddie says defensively. “We got married as friends, so Buck could adopt Chris and take care of him while I was in Afghanistan after Shannon left. He already helped before that. It was the most logical thing to do at the time.”
“There wasn’t anyone else?” Hen asks, now mostly directed at Buck. The underlying, ‘you had to take care of Chris by yourself?’ heard by everyone.
“Uh,” Buck sends a look at Eddie, but Eddie isn’t looking his way. “Eddie’s parents helped too, you know, but you don’t want to drop your kid on your parents,” he settles on in the end. It’s as neutral as he can make it.
Hen seems to accept this answer, which is enough for Chimney to jump in on it. “How did you even get involved anyway, Buck? Chris said you were taking care of the chickens? How do you get from chickens to father?”
Buck blushes slightly and explains: “I worked as a farm hand on a chicken farm. Chris’s mom used to buy eggs there, took Chris with her from time to time. I babysat in a pinch, then did it more regularly, also after Eddie came back. She left Chris with me, before getting on a plane to never look back. Eddie still had work that night, so I offered to watch Chris and, uh-” he rubs the back of his head “-I kind of never left.”
It’s quiet for a moment as everyone processes, then Eddie cuffs him on the back of the head. “That’s not how it went and you know it.”
“What?” Buck asks confused, because last he checked, that’s exactly how it went.
“You didn’t watch him for one night and never left, you chose to stay and help a stranger who was struggling, even though you didn’t have to. Because, Evan, that’s who you are,” Eddie says forcefully, making sure Buck hears it.
“Oh.” Buck doesn’t really know how to respond to that, tears prickling despite himself. “I guess, I never thought about it like that.”
“Of course you hadn’t,” Eddie sighs, but it’s a fond one.
Everyone is looking between the two, various expressions on their faces, but all scrutinizing. It makes Buck blush. Especially when Hen feels the need to check: “And it’s strictly a platonic thing?”
“Yes,” Eddie replies forcefully, which doesn’t make Buck sad at all, no, sir. “We’re gonna get divorced at some point, have a prenup and everything. The plan was when I got back from Afghanistan, but then I got hurt.”
“So why haven’t you yet?” Chimney asks curiously. “I mean, since you’re obviously better now.”
Eddie looks a bit like a deer in headlights and Buck clenches all his muscles and tries to disappear into the background. If he starts trying to answer that, a whole bunch of things he’d prefer to stay hidden will come spilling out.
“Why would we?” Eddie counters after a few beats to think, a blush coloring his cheeks anyway.
“Huh?” Chimney replies dumbly.
“I mean, think about it. We’ll divorce just for the sake of divorcing, then we’d have to come up with a parental plan for Chris, uproot him again, because one person alone can’t afford that mortgage, plus we’d loose are tax benefits, which means we can’t save up for college for Chris,” Eddie lists. “Unless one of us wants to marry someone else, why go through the hassle? It’s not like either of us are planning to leave anytime soon.”
Despite how utterly practical it is, Buck can’t help but smile widely, stomach unclenching as butterflies flutter in it instead. Eddie truly isn’t planning on leaving. Eddie still wants him around, still needs him around. He nods: “Yeah, what he said.”
Hen looks between the two then nods to herself as she mutters: “Ah, so that’s how you’ve justified it to yourself?”
“What was that, Henrietta?” Eddie snaps, without even fearing for his life.
“Don’t call me Henrietta,” Hen scowls back, dropping what she just said. Buck is grateful for it, he doesn’t need anyone pushing at Eddie and making him feel weird about staying.
Bobby thankfully steps in for them. “Alright, alright. It’s quite the story, but we’re not here to interrogate either of you.” To the others he sharply says, “I mean that. I’ll bring up the situation with the brass and we’ll see from there what will happen.”
“But, Cap,” Chimney starts to whine, but he’s cut off by the alarm that starts blaring. They all look up for a second, then Chimney quickly stuffs a grilled cheese in his mouth. Still chewing, he says: “This isn’t over.”
“Of course it isn’t,” Eddie mutters as he and Buck get up in sync.
Together they hurry down the pole and to their gear. They’ll have a lot more questions to answer later, not to mention appearing in front of the brass. However, all in all, bringing Chris to the firehouse could have gone much worse.
~~
A/N:
I know I cut the whole explaining themselves thing short, but it’s mostly a repeat after a while and I did put a chunk in there.
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lucky-clover-gazette · 1 day ago
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rating the volo voice lines from pokemon masters ex as i hear them for the first time
youtube
“I’m Volo of the Ginkgo Guild, the go-to choice for your mercantile needs.” 
Sounds like he’s practicing his merchant persona in front of a mirror. Very pleased with his own performance. Might break out into song about it. 8/10
“Allow me to present this to you.” 
Spot-on cadence of Chris Traeger from Parks and Recreation. 4/10
“Here’s a special treat for you!” 
Creepy. Feels like he’s going to hand me a bomb. 2/10
“Oh! It’s looking lively around here.” 
Sounds like he thinks he’s too cool for the party you’ve both walked into and wants to know that you hate it too. 7/10
“What a joy to be alive!” 
Said with the paradoxical determination and resignation of someone who values his own life too highly to end it, but hates that life so fucking bad. 10/10
“Oh! My heart is racing with excitement!” 
Sounds like he just made himself think of something he actually cares about in order to generate enthusiasm about your thing. Also, overdoing it on the “oh,” there. 7/10
“If we use this well, the world will open up.” 
Whatever you say, beautiful. What are we talking about? 8/10 
“I like you better and better!” 
He’s telling the truth, but he likes me for reasons way less innocent and simple than my continued business. Regardless, the praise is appreciated. 10/10 
“Fancy running into you again!” 
Two possibilities: he very intentionally arranged this meeting and is pretending to be surprised, or he was surprised by the meeting and is pretending to be chill about it. 8/10 
“Maybe we’ll get to know each other better now!” 
Sounds like he’s about to ask for my social security number, and if I’m into men, and if I’m into giving men my social security number. 6/10
“Of course. I’d be glad to help.” 
He’s foaming at the mouth to involve himself in whatever protagonist shit I’m up to right now. 9/10
“I can see a whole new world!” 
According to Bulbapedia, he says this “upon reaching max level.” Is that like a relationship level? Does that mean I’m his world? Knowing his motivations in PLA, this could easily have a double meaning—getting close to me, and therefore Arceus, allows him to create a new world. This concerns me less because of the world erasure thing, and more because it might mean he doesn’t actually care about me. 1/10 
“Let the battle begin!” 
Doing a pretty good job sounding normal with this one. 3/10 
“That’s it! Go right ahead!” 
According to Bulbapedia he’s saying this to Togepi, which is very sweet. Also explains why it doesn’t sound fake as hell. 10/10 
“Here you are!” 
He says this to Togepi when he gives her an item in battle, I’m assuming a potion? Which is, again, extremely sweet. 10/10 
“Pay me later!” 
He says this while “using Trainer move,” which I assume is like his signature flourish during battle. The reference to his merchant persona is clever and he sounds like he’s very proud of it. I’m amused by the implication that I’m supposed to pay him for something, though. Is he helping me or battling me? Both? What are we, Volo? 4/10
“Delightful!” 
Accompanies the “nice” emote. I’m not going to complain. 5/10
“Careful now!” 
Accompanies the “watch out” emote. He sounds concerned, but like, in a “please don’t inconvenience me with your pain” way. I wish he truly cared, but maybe if I lie to myself, I can believe that he does. 3/10 
“I’m filled with curiosity!” 
Said with the exact cadence of Grunkle Stan talking to idiot tourists at the Mystery Shack. Ostensibly laughing at himself, but actually laughing at the people who are stupid enough to believe him. 9/10
“Pokemon battles are always good fun!” 
He only says this when he wins, which means they’re not always good fun. Makes perfect sense for the character and I like the delivery. 8/10 
“Too powerful…” 
He says, actively fantasizing about eventually proving himself more powerful. 10/10 
“BEHOLD! DESTINY! LEGENDS! UNDONE!” 
Bulbapedia identifies these words as things he yells during “unity attack/theme skill.” I have no idea what that means. It sounds to me like he’s accidentally taken a double dose of his ADHD stimulant medication and is just saying whatever the fuck comes to mind. 6/10 
“Allow me!” 
Said while “switching in.” Assuming he’s helping me, this is rather nice to hear. I’m more than happy to set this strange contemptuous man on my battle opponent. 9/10 
“Oh dear, that’s too bad.” 
Said while “recalling fainted Pokemon.” Option 1: He’s recalling his Togepi and trying very hard to sound brave about it. 10/10. Option 2: He’s taunting me about my fainted Pokemon with a sickly-sweet condescending tone. Also 10/10. 
“Good morning! Are you heading out today?” 
I appreciate the casual greeting and barely-contained rabid interest in my protagonist activities. 8/10 
“In that case, potions are a must.” 
Thoughtful and dedicated to his quotas. It does feel like he’s five seconds from calling me “milady,” though. Wait, in PLA I think he actually does that. It might be “madam.” He’s so embarrassing. 7/10 
“The weather outsider is lovely today.” 
Sounds like he’s about to take his lunch break so we can enjoy it together. 8/10 
“So, how about it? Care to go on an outing with me?” 
Already beat him to it. He’s trying so hard to sound chill, but I think if I said no it would ruin his day. Also, what’s with “outing?” Just say “date.” The game knows you’re saying “date.” This is a dating sim. 10/10
“Please, don’t overexert yourself too late at night. I don’t want to lose one of my loyal customers!” 
First, that’s what she said. 6/10. Second, he’s negging me again. 9/10. Third, he has other loyal customers?! 0/10
“Ah!”
Sounds like the peanut butter baby from that 2016 viral video. 4/10
“Rrrrrrr…” 
Nintendog. 7/10
*Sighs deeply* 
Agreed. 9/10
“Yes.” 
Me when I say “yes.” 5/10 
*Increasingly loud fake bouts of laughter* 
This man is going to end up on the news. 10/10
*Evil chuckle, tapering off into deranged humming* 
This man is going to end up at the Tony Awards. 10/10 
*Bitchy throat clear that turns into a laugh* 
This is how he laughs at the PLA protagonist after he insults their “curious getup.” 10/10
“Outstanding!” 
He’s high, tipsy, and/or sleep deprived, and someone just suggested getting takeout. 6/10 
“As expected…” 
Apropos of nothing, but he does like to feel smart. 7/10 
“CONGRAAAAAAATULATIONS!!!” 
This is perfect. This is a perfect voice line. The voice actor understands the comedy of Volo’s character perfectly. Divine madness aside, he is a merchant NPC almost obsessively invested in the protagonist’s adventures—but unlike many such cases, the narrative both understands and demonstrates how fucking weird and off-putting that is. 1000000/10 
“I wish you great fortune.” 
Reminds me of the PLA line, “Supporting you now is actually an investment in my own fortunes.” The voice actor nails the double meaning. 7/10 
“HOOOOW DARE????!!!!” 
I can’t find an explanation for this line. I think it’s just random. He’s so fucking weird. Did he read that in a book? Is he in a bad play? 10/10 
*Whimpering* 
Took a quick break to walk around my apartment and poorly make the bed. No further comment. ?/10
*Relieved sigh* 
It’s a relieved sigh. 
*Literal actual moaning* 
???????????????????
*Various other noises* 
The people in the comments of this video were not exaggerating. Holy shit. 
“Have some mercy!” 
WHAT IS THIS GAME RATED??????
*Deep sigh* “Now then…” 
I have no words. I don’t know. Why does this exist in the way it exists. 
“Right! Thank you!” 
I feel like I just witnessed something that I did not ask to witness. Does the Ginkgo Guild have a HR department? 
“My apologies.” 
That is not helping his case. 
“Leave it to me!” 
Good voice line. Great performance. He would say that. We’re back on track, love it. 5/10 
“No thank yewwwwww…” 
Bitch. 8/10 
“Please!”
“Indeed…” 
“That is quite something!” 
All very normal. 5/10 
“You’re too kind.” 
This is the weirdest line delivery yet. He sounds unhinged. Something happened around the 1:19 point of this video that neither of us can pretend didn’t happen. ???/10 
“Until next time.” 
Spoken like a charming male musical theater lead who just did a little song and dance about his life philosophy. 9/10 
“Come on, now.” 
Getting weird again. There is nothing I could possibly possess that would necessitate that amount of beleaguered desperation. 6/10
“Let’s get our blood pumping!” 
Not on the first date—sorry, outing. ?/10 
“The mysteries of the past… oH-hO! How they tICKle my curiosity!” 
Sure. Why not. 5/10 
“Investigating the odd and novel is key to any good merchant’s success.” 
This is delivered pretty much how I would imagine in the game! Also just such a fun line for him—he says this as if it makes all the sense in the world, but it literally doesn’t? It’s a total non-sequitor. Investigating the odd and novel have nothing to do with being a successful merchant, and later in the game he even admits to ditching work to do his research. I’ve always appreciated that part of his characterization—the way he knows that he’s bullshitting everyone and getting away with it, and is simultaneously so smug about his clever ruse and so miserable to be alone in his truth. 10/10
“A HISTORIC MOMENT!” 
Deeply bizarre final line for a deeply bizarre character. I hope he says this about mundane shit like dropping a cup of coffee or getting an email. 10/10.
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lehnsherrrr · 2 days ago
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Mitski + Cherik
I have a playlist of every single Mitski song ever made playing constantly 24 hours of my day for the past 2 years, I also went to see her live. I’ll be damned if I don’t make this post. (Also this has been in the drafts for like 3 weeks now)
So, at first, I was listening to Mitski and was like whoah the song “old friend” is perfect for cherik. And then the song “Eric” came on and I was dumbfounded, so here’s an explanation of lyrics and how they apply to Cherik.
Also I suck at making edits so this is technically the same thing but using your imagination instead.
“We nearly drowned for such a silly thing”
Charles diving into the ocean to save Erik. But this could also mean drowning in their decisions, they almost lost each other because of their beliefs. Such a silly thing to loose each other over.
“Someone who loves me now better than you”
This line makes me believe this song is from Erik’s perspective, either talking about Charles, or Magda. However I like the idea that it’s Charles he talks about since it’s the very start of the song. It might even be implied that “better than you” is implying Shaw.
“And that pretty friend is finally yours”
100% talking about Moira, boy is bitter. All of this so far is talking from the future looking on the past, so that previous line may be talking about Magda after all.
“I’ll be around on Sunday, if you’ll meet me at the blue diner, I’ll take coffee and talk about nothing baby”
Erik meeting Charles at the end of Dark Pheonix. Isn’t it nice to talk about nothing for once, instead of arguing about mutant rights or trying to save the world. They can finally relax together and just be people.
“At the blue diner, I’ll take anything you wanna give me, baby”
Switch to Charles perspective. Agreeing to stay with Erik.
This song is short but wonderful, I’ve only focused on the first half of the song because it fits far too well. The other part fits too but this was too specific.
The way it starts with how they met, then when they left eachother for other people, and then ending with them rejoining. Perfect few lyrics almost like they were made just for them.
And to top it all off, it’s called Old Friend. Thats CRAZY.
“Sorry I can’t take your touch”
Erik leaving at the end of pretty much every movie, the touch being Charles love and want for him to stay with the xmen, with him.
“It’s just that I fell in love with a war”
Erik’s constant belief that there’s a war coming and he needs to fight it first. He chooses this again and again over Charles, one could say he loves it more than he loves Charles.
“Nobody told me it ended”
Still fighting for the war he believes in, even though Charles has been working so hard for mutant rights and has done a lot of good work.
“And it left a pearl in my head, and I roll it around every night, just to watch it glow. Every night baby that’s where I go.”
That anger and sadness that stays within him, stuck in his brain, part of him. Memories of Charles, hating him, loving him. He sits with it every night, going over everything again and again. Also visual of Erik floating them little metal balls.
Beautiful song, good lord. This is all about Erik choosing the war over Charles, there’s also something about the imagery of sitting with a ‘pearl’ in his mind is so very Erik.
“But how long, how long can we play this way?”
Playing as in going back and forth, fighting, making up, fighting again. This is definitely from Charles perspective.
“I’m tired, I’m tired of not loving you”
Charles is tired of not being able to show Erik how much he loves him, he just wants him home.
“My heart, my heart wants to hold you”
All he wants to do it is be with Erik, he wants to comfort him again and show him he’s not evil, that there’s good in there too.
“But I know, I know, I know the rules”
But he knows the rules of this game, he knows they couldn’t ever be together. Be it their opposing beliefs, homophobia, or just the way they are. Perhaps also the rules as in the movie won’t allow it, their writing won’t allow it.
Painful. Other lyrics in the song are more sexual, which also fits if you’d like it to. First line of the song is “you like control, well I do to” and that would be a killer title for a dark cherik fic. They both control their environment in different ways.
“One word from you and I would jump off of this ledge I’m on, baby”
Charles telepathy, could be from any of the students, especially those from the first movie who later died. However it’s painful to think that it’s Erik saying “You’re a telepath Charles, you can convince me of anything.”
Also on that note, the ledge could also refer to delving deeper into his dark side, it would take one mean word from Charles and he’d get so much worse.
Or perhaps he means the ledge in which he’s raised himself to as a super villain, and he knows Charles could bring him down from it.
“Tell me don’t so I can crawl back in”
See my other post about Erik subtly begging Charles to control him. He knows he’ll always pick his cause over staying with Charles, he wants Charles to force him to stay. Get rid of his option to choose so he can crawl back to comfort. Be gone with his righteousness, and just be simple and safe with him.
The title of the song being First Love/Late Spring hurts me. Was mitski an xmen fan or what Jesus.
Left this one until last cause I don’t want to teach a grandma to suck eggs here, I’m sure you already know what’s about to go down. Nonetheless, it would be criminal for me to leave it out. Ready for some Charles angst? Too bad!
“Baby, my baby,”
Raven, Angel, Darwin, Banshee, Havok, adopted into the xmen with nowhere else to go but return to their unfortunate lives.
“Tell your baby that I’m your baby”
The first xmen looking on to the current, looking at who Charles ‘replaced’ them with.
“I bet on loosing dogs”
Charles putting his trust into those first kids, knowing they were young, but it was the last hope. He better is all on them.
“I know they’re loosing and pay for my place by the ring”
He knows they couldn’t stand a chance, but there was that hope. Perhaps if he trained them, gave them the right motivation, they could survive.
“Where I’ll be looking in their eyes when they’re down”
He’s with them the whole way, in their minds, in their spirits. These kids had fight in them, but they were still kids.
“I’ll be there on their side, I’m loosing by their side.”
When they loose, he looses with them. The xmens fate stands on the strength of those kids. Charles grief over loosing these kids makes him catatonic, wishing he had died instead. He was with them all the way, and yet he still hears “Where were you Charles” “You abandoned all of us”
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da2supremacy · 1 day ago
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Alright let's talk about that Solavellan ending.
So, as someone who was in camp "I don't need or want Solavellan closure. It was a tragedy and I like it that way and I don't want a happy ending for Solavellan" I fully expected to be disappointed with this. When Trick and Corinne said they had to do a lot of juggling of conflicting needs for the outcome of Solas' story and they think they found a nice middle ground between very polarized opinions of him my expectations were in the ground but man did they deliver.
I love it, tbh. I don't think I would have been able to end it on a better note other than leaving Trespasser as the final goodbye. First of all, "There is no fate but the love we share"? Phenomenal line. Honestly I think that particular piece of dialogue blows out of the water literally anything that was said in Inquisition. The broken sob after Lavellen gets on her knee to deliver that line to him. Chef's kiss.
The fact that it can ONLY be achieved by Mythal coming back to release him from her service. Beautiful capstone on the framing story of how things came to be this way. A nice ring of hope for the future. Past sins can be forgiven. The Blight may yet be soothed and what will become of the Wardens and the dwarves after that? Who knows. But perhaps it might be good. There's much to clean up and rebuild from here but there will never be another Blight again. Solas will have company as he traverses the fade and these long eons, healing the blight and healing himself.
But they also don't just gloss over all the trouble this dumbass just created. He, in fact, DOES have a lot to answer for. Lavellan offers to walk the difficult path with him but she does not absolve him of the wrong he did.
And judging by the fact that Belara was unblighted in the final cinematic there's a possibility that the Blight is already being cured. (It was also esp satisfying to have a Dalish elf, sitting on the Archon's throne and loudly declaring YOU are NOT my god. I don't think Neve would have the same sting. It was good.)
Tbh this is really the only ending that I actually liked. For one thing, Solas' final dialogue in the good and neutral endings don't...Feel like Solas. He never wanted to be a god. Why would he go on about how he's basically a god as he's being defeated? This feels more like generic villain dialogue. He should be mad but also pathetic about it. I guess there is some kind of poetic justice about him becoming the very thing he was fighting after speed running the maximum amount of betrayals he can shove into one hour of his life. But I dunno. Even with the bloodmagic I don't feel like we spent the game getting him there. It doesn't feel like he was actually pushed into becoming the monster he fought. It just felt like he was continuing the line of poor, emotional decisions spurred by that toxic connection he has to Mythal and that um actually head up in his ass syndrome that he has so prominently. I kind of wish his final dialogue had reflected that. It's not enough to be right, you need to consider the consequences.
I am a bit disappointed that the Solavellan ending is the only one in which we actually can get Solas to redeem himself. Even if you do the Mythal questline I don't believe you can summon Mythal or convince Solas to become the anchor for the Veil himself without Lavellan. I think the idea is that without Mythal releasing him from her service and Lavellan there to support him he can't get over his fatal flaw of hubris but Solas is such a multifaceted and interesting character and I think people who are new to the franchise with this game will not get to see that UNLESS they manage to get the Solavellan ending. (But I guess the only people who are going to care if Solas gets a satisfying tie off to HIS character arc probably are the Solavellans and, in fairness, you don't get his whole character arc without playing inquisition.)
There's also a whole lot to be said about how we can only be our best selves with the support of others (that I really think an inquisitor with high friendship should have been able to fill in for. Or maybe even Rook since you CAN get pretty buddy buddy with Solas by the end. Very sad that Rook only joins Solas in his prison in the bad ending. But I digress.) He could not overcome Pride and return to Wisdom without Mythal releasing him from his binding and without someone who saw him as "kind and wise and sad". Spirits are, after all, a reflection of our perception of them.
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aplaceinme · 17 hours ago
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What is your theory for 8x8? I don´t think there are any more big plas for Buck so I will cling to the fact that 8x8 was supposed to be called "sob stories". since the show decided that people can talk about Tommy again since he is no longer present (*rolls eyes so hard atm*) I choose to believe that Buck will either get a snippet of Tommy backstory, maybe about who broke his heart before, or we get Buck having a meltdown- he should really get angry and sobbing. It would heal me
I´m sure the show will proof me wrong but this is still 5 to 7 days of uniterrupted delulu for me.
Hi, nonnie! 
Well, first, I will start with saying that I’m on the “I would rather have no hope and then be pleasantly surprised if things turn out ok” boat. This is 911, this is Tim, we know he changes things at the last minute, we know he can be extremely petty, we know he does what he wants even if it doesn’t make sense storyline wise. So, yes, I’m going to keep expecting nothing, just in case. 
If I go into my more pessimistic side, I will say that given the interviews (and we already know that the interviews are basically bs but still) we are supposed to see Buck “exploring” his bisexuality and trying to move on. We haven’t seen that yet in the show, so we might see that in episode 8. Perhaps he will be ready to put the phone away, and start fooling around. Perhaps we will have a small mention of Tommy when Buck talks about getting tired of waiting and deciding to follow madney’s advice of getting back into the pond, which we will then see in S8B. Therefore, the door to the relationship will be closed (still leaving the possibility of Tommy returning next season though -after all, we know Tim loves to bait the fans).
If I go into my more positive side, I have to admit that they did kind of handled the post break-up better than I was expecting. And by that, I mean, that we did get to see Buck longing and pining for Tommy. We got to see him not wanting to move on yet and him hoping for Tommy to return. Besides from Abby, we hadn't seen that before. Ali, Taylor, and Natalia’s break-ups were a done deal and that was it (we didn’t even see Natalia and Buck breaking up), Buck just carried on with his life with no problem. We are once again seeing a huge difference between Tommy and all of Buck’s other love interests.
Besides that, I also have to admit that the choice of showing Tommy also wanting to reach out to Buck but then not doing it, it’s interesting as well. Why do that? They could have just showed Buck struggling with the break-up but nothing from Tommy. So, is that just the way of them leaving the door open for something to happen because they still don’t know what to do? Is that just baiting? Did they want to see how people will react so they wrote little hints of Tommy possibly returning just in case? Is this just that part of the romcom when the couple break-up? Maybe!
And finally, if I allow myself to put on a tin foil hat… there could be many possibilities: 
Buck saying “what if he’s in trouble and he needs my help?” could be foreshadowing of something to come. According to Tim (and again, lets take everything he says with a grain of salt), “Nobody’s hanging off a cliff at the end of the episode except for possibly one character.” Could that be Tommy? Maybe Tommy will be rescuing someone, and while on the harness and hanging from the helicopter, something happens and he needs rescuing. The 118 gets called, Buck realizes its Tommy, he gets desperate, he saves Tommy, they talk in the hospital, they get back together. 
I think both Oliver and Tim have also said that maybe Buck will see Tommy on a call. So, what if next episode that happens? They both have to rescue someone and while doing that they talk/discussed the break-up, they clear the air after everything is said and done, and again they get back together (or is implied that they will be in the future).
The call and the person hanging from a cliffhanger has nothing to do with Tommy BUT it reminds Buck of the lighting strike. He realizes that life is short, that he got another chance in life and he doesn’t want to go on living without Tommy by his side. So, after the rescue, we finally have Buck going to Tommy and talk and try to get back together. “You don’t find it, son. You make it.” Or we just have a cliffhanger of Buck going to a house, knocking, and Tommy opening the door, scene ends. We will have to wait and see what happens.
Buck decides to move on. At the end of the episode, he goes to a bar intending to find someone, but once he gets there, he sees Tommy. They make eye contact and they both timidly smile. They show Buck walking up to him and sitting down to talk, but we can hear what they say. Or, it just ends like that, with both of them smiling. Find out in March what happens. 
Ignoring everyone’s advice, Buck arrives at his loft after the shift and immediately calls Tommy who picks up. We hear Buck saying nervously: “Can we meet up?” Then he smiles, and says, “Great, I will see you there.” He hangs up still with a smile on his face but also still nervous, and the episode ends. 
I could still go on, honestly… But that’s probably enough. 
I don’t know what will happen, nonnie! As I said, I will rather have no hope. 
They have probably not written S8B yet, but they probably do have possible storylines of what will happen with every character. They have more than enough time to change them, though.
Maybe we will see Tommy in S8B, maybe we will see him in S9. Or maybe, this has truly been the end. We will just have to wait and see! 
I do hope that they get better at writing and that they stop with the biphobic rhetoric because, my god, that’s just too bad and fuck them for that! They need to do better!
Whatever happens, the important thing is to try to find joy. If putting on your clown make up, bring you joy, then do that! If moving on from the show until you know what happens, brings you joy, then do that! 
Sorry, this got way too long! Hope I made sense nonnie! 
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perenlop · 2 months ago
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okay so as a gen 5 stan who does adore the story in bw and bw2, and now that gen 5 has experienced both a vicious hatedom that wouldnt hear a single positive thing about the games, and now a super protective fandom that insists they were perfect and had zero flaws... can we admit now that the bw1 story at least was. a little mid.
#just a little. just a little.#i am saying this as someone who adores it and loves the characters a lot#...... but good god team plasma kinda sucks ass as an evil organization#bw2 is sorta better about them with the split factions but in the first game theyre so obnoxious and come across as strawmen#the game talks about how the world is nuanced and not black and white and its not good to take extreme sides#but then. it sorta does that with the protagonists? by refusing to talk about abused pokemon that werent hurt by team plasma?#obviously they are wrong. the game hammers it in with a mallet. but is it really nuanced if our stance is ''ha ha thats silly''#and yeah groups like plasma exist irl but like. as someone who cares abt animal rights and stuff a lot. i feel like they fumbled it here#the answer shouldnt have been ''well ig some pokemon get hurt. we wont talk about them though. watch the grunt kick a munna''#it shouldve been about animal welfare. like maybe instead of becoming assistant professor; bianca couldve become a nurse joy#or she couldve joined some organization that rescues and rehabilitates pokemon from abusive trainers. maybe the reformed plasma from bw2#and before someone goes ''erm its a kids game they cant do that :/ thats too complicated'' first of all- the anime showed a malnourished te#tepig#kids can handle a bit of text next to a skittish lillipup thats like ''its scared of humans'' or something and its being cared for by someo#someone''#plus the side games were tackling much heavier shit at this point#also again they were apparently fine with a grunt kicking a munna and bragging about how he loves doing that so.#like even as a kid i felt like that scene was really over the top and stupid#team plasma feels less like an attempt to do commentary on harmful animal rights ideas that lead to ecofascism and dont care abt the animal#true needs#and more like gamefreak read a lot of obnoxious critical pokemon posts like ''lmao training is like dogfighting'' and ''this promotes anima#abuse!'' and just made a strawman out of those people. and like i agree thats all stupid but it sorta hurts the message of the game#that the world is very nuanced and taking extremes is bad and reductive.#and this isnt getting into poor story and gameplay integration and other stuff like underutilized characters (you know exactly who i mean)#idk. again i still adore the story and have a huge soft spot for it. but i think the only reason people say its perfect is out of defensive#defensiveness and not having engaged with a ton of video game stories. and pokemon stories not being fantastic in general#like i think pla is better put together story wise than this game and its got less going on than this#echoed voice
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tigerincahoots · 2 days ago
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WAS THERE EVEN A BETTER PLACE TO CHECK A BONE THAN A GRAVEYARD? It was fun to flirt. Not that Kevin considered what he did flirting – since to him it was more like crossing t’s and dotting i’s in the process. Say things as they were, as he wanted for them to be – leaving very little to the imagination. He had no time to play those silly little games where one party would play coy and the other would pull the veil bit by bit. No one had time for that shit. Instead, it was much better to make his intentions clear from the get-go. No need to leave someone wondering whether or not he was interested. Others would get off with the anticipation of not knowing – but definitely not him.
IF HE WANTED TO FUCK SOMEONE, HE WOULD SAY IT. And he was making his intention of letting Henry know he was very much interested in boning him. Maybe there was a rule somewhere that co-workers probably shouldn’t get involved physically and emotionally – but whoever wrote those rules definitely didn’t have a boner for their co-worker. They were probably the ones wanting for something to happen and ended up denied. But the emotional aspect of the thing… he sort of understood. Once feelings were attained, thinking with a clear head was much more difficult. People would often prioritize the safety of the person they fancied rather than the goal of the mission. There was a reason why he had never been in a relationship before. Sex was easy. It wasn’t complicated.
EMOTIONS?
FUCK THAT.
”YOU LOOK CUTE WHEN YOU BLUSH.” He could see it. The shades of deep pink and red adorning Henry’s face – he probably wasn’t used to having things said so bluntly or maybe he was unlucky in the sex department. But then again, from what he had seen – that was definitely not the case. He was hot. Anyone with half a brain cell would see that. But rather than keeping things tame and proceeding with whatever Henry wanted to do – Kevin had to indulge himself in one last snippet. So he did approach his partner, lips dangerously close to the other detective’s ear as he inhaled his scent. His cologne, his natural smell. As he counted the fast heartbeats inside the detective’s chest within his mind. “Makes me want to fuck you even more once we are done being professional, Detective.”
AND WITH THAT, OFF THEY WENT. Kevin remained behind as he gave Henry the space and time needed, arms folding over his chest as he stayed nearby. He was curious about what Henry was about to do but his ears and other senses were still checking their surroundings. No unknown scents. No other heartbeats but the two of them. They were in the clear. At least, that was what he assumed until he heard Henry talking to someone who wasn’t there. Talking to himself…? No. Something shifted. The tiger caged in the darkest corners of his mind seemed rattled, almost like something was happening that neither of them could see. But Henry was talking to someone. Talking to whoever died? He was hearing him explain what happened, his attention focused on something that only he could see. On something that wasn’t there but also … was?
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HE WAS A FUCKING MEDIUM. Kevin’s eyebrows arched upward with renovated interest. Not one of those fake-ass mediums that read your palm and said you’d marry rich or used tarot cards to predict the future. Not one of those pretenders to talk to those who had crossed the veil. Henry Quinn was the real fucking deal. “Uh.” Definitely not common knowledge but that would explain why all the spooky and weird cases would end up on his desk. And that also explained why Henry smelled human. Because he was human. His gifts and talents had not changed his nature. Just a… nice little bonus.
”YOU CAN TALK TO SPIRITS.” Whether or not Henry was expecting him to freak out was irrelevant. He had seen far worse shit than someone communing with the dead and learning what happened. It was unusual in his very own line of work but not something he hadn’t seen or heard about before. “You talked to the dead guy’s spirit to learn what happened and gave him peace, didn’t you?” Spiritualism was not his forte but Kevin had read about things before. It would never hurt to be prepared – even if bullets or feline agility would do nothing against a poltergeist or a ghost. “This explains why all the weird cases end up on your lap.” The corner of his lips turned up in a fraction of a smile. He really couldn’t judge a book by its cover, could he?
”HI HENRY, THE PSYCHIC MEDIUM.” He was still his partner as far as he was concerned. Who gave a fuck if he pulled a ghost whisperer like bloody Melinda Gordon from that TV show? “So, a wolf – uh? And not a normal one? Funny that.”
They won't bother you again. Honestly, Henry could kiss him right now. The sentiment was sweeter than his partner knew. If only he'd known someone like Kevin in high school, that's when he would have been broken and bothered by bullying. "I think you scared the shit out of them, yeah. Thanks, really." He didn't know what else to say, and he was sure Kevin would put him in a grave if Henry went with his impulse to hug him.
Then the tone quickly changed and Henry took a step back from his partner as he eyed him. He then gave Kevin a small, playful shove. "C'mon, knock it off already. You're embarrassing me." Henry broke the oddly intense eye contact. His cheeks burned, his ears tingled. "Not you looking at my bone in the graveyard. We've got work to do, remember?" He cleared his throat, if only Kevin would stop giving him that look. Henry was afraid to ask what was going to happen if they went out for dinner.
He wasn't a strong man when it came to sexual desire. He'd always wait until it was clear, of course, but when a sexy man wanted him, and Henry felt the same, the chances of him saying 'no' flew out the window. He was a slut deep inside, the part of him that lay dormant since his college years when he'd really upped his body count. If they flirted, and things escalated... working relationship be damned, Henry would get his and be on his knees where he felt most comfortable.
All of this was swirling around that head of his, but no, he wasn't erect. "It's just sweet of you, is all. Whether you meant it to be or not."
Henry gave himself a little shake in an attempt to clear his head of the impure thoughts.
"Alright, you can stay, I do trust you. God help me, I don't know why, but I do."
Henry turned away from Kevin and faced the open grave crime scene. He had his notebook ready, and closed two eyes to open three. Kevin wouldn't see much on his side, other than Henry in a blank stare with a slight sway. There was no guarantee he would spirit-write either, but he always made sure he was prepared. Kevin would also hear Henry talking.
Henry looked around the cemetery, at first not seeing anyone, but then seeing a tail sticking out from behind a tree. "Hello," Henry said softly, "I'm Henry."
The figure emerged from hiding, looking scared and confused in his werewolf costume. This was not a man, but a child, a teen, no more than 16. "Look man, the weed's not mine, ok? It was my friend's!"
He doesn't know he's dead, Henry thought, and felt the fear and sadness in his bones. "It's not the weed I'm here about."
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For the next several minutes Henry explained what had happened. The boy cried, which led to Henry crying, though his face was blank for the most part. Then Henry asked the important questions; who did this? Where did they go? And how did it happen? Once a spirit became aware of their demise, they're energy shifted and things locked into place.
Henry ended his conversation by taking the boy's hand and holding it until he faded away. He was passing over, as was Henry's job to help with. Being stuck terrified in a graveyard was no way to spend eternity.
Henry slow blinked again and came back to his normal senses. He could feel a dull ache in his head and chest, heart and mind, as he always did. To Kevin this must have looked like a mime routine or some other crazy thing. Henry wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand.
He looked down at his notebook the words wolf and north printed there among a throng of black scribbles that looked insane. He handed the notebook to Kevin. "I've got a general location. And I think you were right." A slight pause, then, "I'm sorry if that freaked you out. Hi, I'm Henry and I'm a psychic medium. Nice to meet you."
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