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moeswriting · 1 day ago

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daylight | 1. black and white

pairing: no-outbreak!sheriff!joel miller x f!pregnant!reader

chapter summary: It was supposed to be a normal day. What happened to his normal damn day?

warnings: implied abuse (reader), implied parental neglect (reader), implied character death, descriptions of injuries on a pregnant woman (reader), descriptions of grief, age gap (joel is 48 and reader is 28), a little bit of a slow burn, reader is pregnant, eventual POV swapping but this time it’s all joel, small town gossip, this small town does not apply HIPAA because they’re borderline feral

word count: 7.8k

a/n: welcome to the very first chapter of daylight!!! this chapter is very joel-heavy, but i promise that next chapter we’ll get more of a glance into reader’s brain and what the hell is going on with her. next chapter should be up sometime in the next couple weeks (but obviously with my track record, who knows).

series masterlist | next chapter ->

read on ao3

“Ellie! What’re you doin’? You’re gonna be late for school!”

It’s 7:58. She should already be at school, but she’s not. He can’t even remember the last time that she was on time for school.

He takes a sip of coffee from his green mug with a picture of a little mug in front of a striped wall holding a placard that reads “MUGSHOT”– a gift from Ellie for his last birthday. He loves coffee. October is perfect weather for it. The revitalizing liquid warms up his frozen fingers through the ceramic and slides down his throat like heaven. He loves coffee.

Footsteps pound down the hallway and all he sees of his teenager is a blur of green plaid as she rushes past the entryway to the kitchen and to the front door.

“Hi Joel! Bye Joel,” she yells, hand popping into his view with a wave and quickly disappearing.

“Hey! Get back in here right now,” he shouts.

“What,” she pants, coming back to the entryway with one shoe on and the other dangling by the laces from her mouth, her tawny hair in a floppy, loose ponytail. Good god, he has no idea how this child has no manners at all. He knows she was not raised like this. Sixteen-year-olds should know not to put shoelaces in their mouths.

But all he does is grumble like he always does because it’s too damn early in the morning and he doesn’t want to argue with her when he’s this damn tired. He can’t think when it’s this early. “Take a poptart please. I don’t want people thinkin’ I starve you.”

She throws her hands up in the air and snatches the silver package off the table. “Okay, Jesus!”

Ellie already has her other shoe on before Joel can even blink. He hears the telltale squeak of the front door opening.

“Have a good day at school!”

“Whatever, Joel!”

And then the door slams shut, the cold October wind rushing its way in behind her.

He takes another sip of his coffee. If he gets another call from the principal lecturing him about Ellie’s tardiness, he might lose his mind. He cannot stand the sound of that man’s voice in his ear– it’s like nails on a chalkboard or the sound of a fork scraping on someone’s teeth. He just wants a normal day with no emergencies or stupid antics from his teenager.

He finishes his coffee off, rinses his cup out, and places it in the sink.

A normal fucking day.

When he walks into the sheriff’s office, he is greeted by Mary– the nice old lady who works the front desk. Her graying hair is pinned up into curls like she came right out of the 50s and she’s wearing a simple blue dress that compliments her maternal curves with a flair.

“Morning, Sheriff!”

He gives her a polite smile like he does every morning. “Mornin’, Mary. How’s the family?”

“Good! Earl is getting a promotion tomorrow! He’s gonna be the manager over at the hardware store.”

“Oh, that’s great! Tell Earl I said congrats.”

“I will, Sheriff.”

He makes his way to his office, which is all the way at the back of the department to avoid talking to people as much as possible. He passes multiple people along his way back, the woman who keeps track of their files, one of the three beat cops in town, who he greets mildly. He passes his brother’s desk, which is empty save for the steaming mug of tea sitting on his “World’s Best Dad” coaster. He’s somewhere around here.

And, of course, as Tommy often does, he has invaded Joel’s space.

Joel leans against the entryway to his office and clears his throat.

Tommy’s sitting at Joel’s desk with his feet propped up and a hand over his eyes. For a second, he’s almost convinced that he’s asleep, but after a second of impatiently waiting, Tommy speaks up.

“Bill called.”

Jackson, Wyoming is too small for its own good. You can walk from one end of town to the other in thirty minutes or less, and everyone knows everyone and every bit of each other’s business whether they like it or not. Being the sheriff in a small town is easy in most respects– nobody’s getting murdered and there’s hardly ever any robberies– but when it came to Bill Brown, there were times he wished he hadn’t rallied for this job so hard.

Joel sighs and walks into the room, “Why?” He picks his stetson up off his head and smacks it onto his desk beside Tommy’s feet which makes him jump and place a hand over his heart dramatically.

Tommy shrugs after he gives himself a moment to recover, wide eyes pointed at his brother, “Says a ‘dangerous’ woman broke into his property.”

That could mean any number of things with Bill: it could mean that there really is a dangerous woman on his property, it could mean that a woman was walking their dog too closely to his yard, it could mean that a saleswoman knocked on his door to sell him solar panels. Bill is beyond paranoid, but Tommy sitting on his ass, not responding to his call probably means it’s nothing. He’ll check anyway, because if he doesn’t, Bill will come to the station later to get on his ass about it.

“Which property?”

“Old Betty’s place.”

What would anyone want to do with Betty’s house? She didn’t leave anything important laying in that house. It was just a glorified grandmother-themed Ikea after her lawyer had distributed all the things she had left in her will.

“Okay. I guess I’ll go see what’s up.”

The drive over to Betty’s is familiar. The gravel road that knocks his truck around winds him through the dense forest that surrounds the land that Betty Loving called home her entire life. The trees are a mesmerizing mix of reds, oranges, yellows, and greens that come together to highlight the tiny, white cottage that sits on top of the wooded hill.

Without thinking, he knocks the secret rhythm that only a few know onto the tall, white door. He’s stood here on this porch more times than he can count, but in the last few years, he’s avoided even thinking about it. It’s just not the same.

He’s pulled into the house by the collar of his brown button-up with a quick force.

“Bill, what the hell is wrong with–”

“Shhh!” Bill puts a finger up to his lips, scraggly mustache parted by his pudgy finger.

Said finger points towards Betty’s bedroom at the end of the hall, the one with the pink floral wreath on it that reads, “Elizabeth” in curly script.

Oh god, maybe something really is wrong. He didn’t notice the front door being jammed in any way, nor does he see any damage in his peripheral, but maybe the damage was contained to her room. He really hopes that she didn’t break any of Betty’s trinkets.

“She in there?”

Bill nods his head adamantly, eyes wide.

Joel sighs out his nerves and puts on a brave face. He has to be ready for whatever he’s about to see in there. All he knows is that there is a trespasser that could be dangerous, he’s not sure. He can’t hear anything, in fact it’s eerily quiet.

He pulls out his gun from its holster on his hip. He rarely does it– it’s mostly just a prop to scare drunks from acting too crazy at the bar or one of his fellow officers from being too violent with their own weapons. The metal of the gun lays familiar in his shaking hands.

He pads down the carpeted hall with a practiced patience, boots softly scraping the tops of the fibers. Even as he approaches the door, he still can’t hear anything. Maybe his knock scared them off?

Placing his hand on the cold doorknob, he can feel wind blowing through the bottom crack of the door. Weird, considering it was 50 degrees this morning. She must have gotten through the window. He opens the door.

Laying on Betty’s frilly bedding is a young woman, probably late twenties or early thirties. Your eye is swollen and a dark shade of purple, but it’s fading into yellow around the edges. You’re wearing a long tan coat and a gray sweater dress that shows off the obvious curve of your stomach, hair splayed out underneath you in a halo. What he can see of your fingers and legs are covered in bruises and small cuts of their own. You look like a renaissance painting, splayed out over the bed like a star with your high-heeled boots dangling off the side– it’s almost Biblical paired with how tormented you look, eyebrows pulled together and mouth downturned into a frown even in your sleep.

He holsters his gun and pinches his brow with a heavy sigh.

“Jesus Christ, Bill– that’s an injured, pregnant woman. She’s not a danger to anyone.”

Bill grumbles an unintelligible response.

Another sigh tumbles out of Joel’s mouth, “Did you try to talk to her?”

“No.” Bill crosses his arms and huffs like a child being told off for hitting their sibling.

The wind blows into the room and causes Joel to shiver, fingers weaving together in front of him in an effort to gain some warmth.

“So, you just assumed that she was a danger based on… what?”

“She broke into my house!” He punctuates his stage-whisper by throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation.

“Bill, you are ridiculous.”

All he does is huff, the bristles of his mustache fly up with the breeze his breath makes.

Joel mutters a curse under his breath and stalks his way to the end of the bed.

“Ma’am? Ma’am?”

Your eyes flash open and he watches your pupils dilate as the bright light offends them. He hates to think it or even put it out into the universe, but your eyes are beautiful. They compliment your features in a way that makes his heart stop in his chest.

Before Joel even has a chance to react, you’re up and as far from him as you can be, huddled against the metal headboard. Your boots leave behind a muddy stain on the white sheets as you clamber away from him.

He can see you wince in pain with the effort. It’s then that he notices the circle of blood you’ve left on the bedding where you were laying. It’s soaked into the white, turning it a dark maroon that slowly fades to pink around the edges. He can tell it’s fresh from the way the stain expands itself.

Jesus Christ.

“Woah, woah now, darlin’. Ain’t nobody here to hurt ya.”

Eyebrows crease together, you raise a hand up to signal him to stop.

Your voice comes out in a husky whisper, upper lip snarled, “Get away from me.”

He takes a step back and puts his hands up in mock surrender. He can tell you’re not going to hurt him, nor would you be capable of it, probably, but he wants to keep you calm and if backing up is gonna keep you calm, he’s willing to do it.

“You’re hurt,” he points out with a finger pointed down to the blood.

You chance a quick glance down to where he points, like you’re afraid that if you don’t look at him for two seconds that he’ll get the jump on you. He supposes he could.

As if you can read his mind, you look back up at him with a piercing scowl.

“I’m fine,” you reply, voice a little clearer now.

He scoffs with an eye roll to accompany the sarcastic action, “Clearly you’re not, don’t have to act all tough. I’m Jackson’s sheriff; I can get you to the town doctor in less than ten minutes.”

Joel watches you evaluate him. Your eyes dart from one of his to the other, run down his body, and then back up to his face. He’s never felt so vulnerable just from being looked at. You soften a little.

“Really?”

He nods patiently, “Yes, ma’am. Dr. Teddy’d get you fixed up in no time.”

Your chest expands with one breath, two breaths, and then you let out a pitiful sigh.

He takes a chance by putting a hand out for you to take– a sign of good faith– and you hesitate. Your fingers twitch by your side. Suddenly, your soft palm grips his calloused one with a quiet ferocity.

Joel helps you up and to his truck, not without a little mumble in his direction about how he better get her on trespassing, which he quickly replies to with a directed glare. Bill retreats into the kitchen to sulk.

Your wool coat is soaked with blood around the back, turning the nice tan into a dark brown. He tries his best to ignore it as he guides you up into the passenger seat. He’s going to have to clean the damn leather after he figures out what to do with you.

Hopping into his own seat, he turns the key in the ignition and turns the heat on. Out of the corner of his eye he can see you sink down into the warmth.

You’re silent the whole ride there, which he’s fine with. He’s never been good at small talk and he doesn’t think he wants to know what the hell is going on with you, your trespassing, or your excess of injuries.

Or maybe he does. He shakes the thought out of his head. He’s going to get you examined at Teddy’s and send you on your way– he doesn’t have time for this shit. Not today. Today is supposed to be a normal day.

He parks in the one parking spot in front of the small, blue house that is the home to the practice of the one and only qualified doctor in town.

Teddy is kind. You need someone kind, which is definitely not Joel.

He points to the building and motions with his chin to follow him. You stumble out of the car and do just that, putting most of your weight on your left leg as you walk. He offers an arm out to you, but you ignore him and push ahead.

He stomps up the porch steps behind you, kicking snow out of the tread of his boots before he steps inside.

The bell jingles loudly to signal your arrival, but he yells anyway, “Teddy!? You in here?”

A soft, raspy voice calls from the back, “One second!”

He turns to you with a, hopefully, calming smile. It feels more like a grimace than anything else on his stiff face.

“This is Doctor Theodora Taylor’s office. She’s gonna take a look at ya.”

Without warning, Teddy is next to him. Her voice makes him jump, but he tries to hide it behind a scoff. Her red-covered lips turn up into a smirk as she regards you.

“You can call me Teddy.” She holds out a hand to you. You hesitate before you grab her hand in yours for a weak handshake. He watches your muscles tense when you make contact with her, but the spasm goes away just as quickly as it came on.

Theodora Taylor is one of Joel’s only friends– her husband Jan is also included in that small number. She has thick, jet black, curly hair and skin so pale it’s a surprise to know that she goes outside at all. Her features are soft, lips always a vibrant red that makes her bright blue eyes pop. Voice raspy from a youth of defiant smoking, she is a calming force and a bright light.

“Follow me– exam room’s right over here.”

He follows behind you, because he has to. He has questions he’s supposed to ask and technically he needs to know if you need to go to court because of the trespassing, but there’s a part of him (the large majority, if he’s honest with himself) that just wants to send you to wherever you belong and leave you be. Bill can be convinced to drop the charges some way or another.

Teddy gives him no attention after her initial questioning of the situation and neither do you, surprisingly, as he plops down in one of the squeaky, teal, pleather chairs usually reserved for parents or significant others. It’s uncomfortably cold under his blue jeans. He’s sat in this chair a couple times before– one time when Ellie broke her leg a few years ago when she first started living with him, and a few times before and after that to evaluate drunks from the bar after they got into slurred fights resulting in, usually, minor injuries.

He watches Teddy go through the motions of listening to your lungs and taking your blood pressure. Joel isn’t a doctor, never claimed to be, so he doesn’t fully understand what’s going on, but she doesn’t look overly concerned as she peels the coat off your back and pulls your shirt up in the back to examine whatever injury is back there.

But when she puts a little too much pressure on your right leg, your whole body tightens and you gasp.

“Woah, what’s going on? I hurt you?”

You pause, evaluate (which he has quickly identified as a habit of yours), and pull your dress up higher on your thigh to reveal a nasty bruise that he hadn’t seen before. Black mixed with purple and dark hues of red over the entirety of your upper thigh. He has to stop himself from letting out the gasp that’s constricting the back of his throat.

Teddy’s dark eyebrows furrow for a split second before she cools her expression and looks up at you with gentle eyes.

“I’m sorry, hon, but I have to ask– where did those bruises come from?”

He watches your eyes flicker up to him and back down to your lap. Teddy takes the obvious hint, and so does he.

Something is very wrong.

“Joel, could you step out, please?”

He nods and pushes up out of the chair, “Yeah, ‘course.”

A grateful expression flashes over your face that he only catches for a second as he shuts the door behind him.

He knows he should be in there technically, to continue his evaluation, but it feels wrong to listen to you be vulnerable. He’s never really had a problem with it before– the child growing in you is probably the reason he feels the need to hide. Pregnant women make him think of her.

A few minutes pass as he sits in the quiet lobby– no one around to bother him or quiet his rampant thoughts. Just him, the open air with a distinct smell of hand sanitizer, and the muffled sounds of cars driving past.

He can see Teddy talking to you through the glass window on the top half of the door, that’s usually covered by a curtain, but it needs to be open in case you really are a danger to yourself or Teddy and she needs help restraining you. You look ashamed, embarrassed. Teddy just looks back at you while you talk, no emotions flashing over her face– just simply taking the information in. He wonders if it’s to keep you calm.

The front door slams open. The little bell attached to it slaps into the wood aggressively.

Maria almost sprints into the building; she looks disheveled, braids pulled back into a makeshift ponytail with a rubber band, eyes wide in a panic, still wearing her pink, flannel pyjama pants.

When she spots Joel sitting in one of the many chairs strewn in random places around the room, she lets out a puff of air and hunches over with her hands on her knees.

“Hey, we just heard–”

He nods and points to the windowed door, “Yeah, Teddy’s in there talking to her now.”

Tommy follows behind her. He looks just as out-of-breath as his wife from running after her.

“Why the fuck did we run here? Jesus Christ,” Tommy mutters to himself, pulling a hand through his hair while the other holds his tan stetson to his chest.

She clears her throat, ignoring Tommy as he walks in and keeping her attention on Joel, “How injured is she?”

“Not sure. She was walking fine, but her legs, Maria– they were covered in cuts and bruises.”

“Oh god,” she sighs and rubs a hand down her face, “Okay, I’ll go in there and talk to her. You two stay out here.”

They nod their heads to her like the loyal guard dogs they are.

Tommy flops his ass down in the chair next to Joel’s, slaps him on the thigh, and spreads his legs like a cowboy. Joel’s posture is ramrod straight, fingers intertwined in his lap. He can’t stop himself from bouncing his knee– the nervous energy in his brain spreading throughout his body. He is Tommy’s opposite as always.

They watch the three of you through the small window cut out of the door. He can visibly see you calm down as Maria speaks to you in her usual confident and calming tone.

Tommy crosses his arms with a scowl on his face, “I recognize her.”

“How?”

“I– I’m not sure.”

Joel examines you for a second. You look upper class based on your outfit alone– expensive wool coat, gold jewelry. But those sad eyes– he could spot those sad eyes anywhere. He feels like a fool for not noticing it earlier.

“Betty’s funeral.”

Tommy points a finger at him, a grin spreading across his stubbled cheeks. “Yes! Yes, that’s it. She gave that speech.”

“She’s Betty’s granddaughter.”

A chill runs down his spine and all the way down to his toes.

Tommy slaps his knee in some show of triumph, “Oh man, that explains why she was at the cottage.”

Joel looks over at you again. He thinks he can see your eyes starting to water, so he shifts his gaze back over to his brother. He can’t bear to see your vulnerability; not like this, not again.

“Yeah… it does.”

Maria steps back out of the room and shuts the door behind her soft and slowly.

“Joel. I need to talk to you really quickly.”

She’s got that look, pinched eyebrows and lips downturned: the guilty look she gets when she asks him to watch their son, Benny.

“What? Is it a secret?”

She turns to Tommy with a glare, “Shut up, Thomas.”

Tommy throws his hands up in the air and widens his eyes in exaggeration.

Maria turns back to Joel, a disgruntled scowl covering her face. She and Tommy love each other– have for more years than he’s even lived here– but Tommy is the King of Maria’s annoyance. He knows just how to push her buttons, the ones that Joel wouldn’t dare to go near.

Joel nods, and follows her out to the porch. It’s cold, too cold to be outside.

“What,” he deadpans. Get it over with, he wants to spit out.

“I need you to take her in.”

No.

“Excuse me,” Joel blurts out, his mouth five steps ahead of his brain in shock.

Maria places her hands on her hips and rolls her deep brown eyes. Even in pyjama pants, she’s intimidating.

“Joel, I highly doubt she will be any trouble to you. You’re barely home anyway.”

He can’t picture you in his space with your sullen expression and hollow eyes. The idea of anyone besides him or his family in his home makes him want to cringe.

“I’ve already got my hands full with Ellie. I don’t think taking on a huge responsibility like this is really in my job description.”

And, boy, does that ruffle Maria’s feathers. Her face drops even further than before.

“This ‘responsibility’ is a pregnant woman with no family, no home, and no job who needs immediate bedrest. She is extremely fragile right now and it’s best for her and her baby if she can keep her in to term. She just needs a place to relax, read a book, do some light chores– she’s not a teenage girl, she’s a grown woman who can take care of herself.

“And I don’t want to mention this, but I feel that I have to: she’s Betty’s granddaughter. You’re really not gonna give her and Betty’s great-granddaughter the best chance they have of living? After all she did for you?”

She gives him a pointed look; they both know she’s right. Her brutal honesty makes him uncomfortable, makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention.

Joel sighs, “Maria…”

Suddenly, he watches guilt take over her features again. “I know; I’m sorry. I just need you to really think before you say no to that woman in there.”

“I’m not… ‘m not saying no, I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

She shakes her head and puffs out a breath of frustration, “Why?”

He doesn’t really know why. Call it a gut feeling, call it intuition, call it whatever you want– he doesn’t know why it’s a bad idea. He just does.

“I don’t know.”

Maria’s shoulders sag. “Just do it. Please.”

He feels himself giving in before he can even say the words. He folds like a cheap suit.

Hands held in the air in surrender, he replies, “Fine. Fine, okay.”

“Thank you,” she sighs out exasperatedly.

“Couldn’t I just… couldn’t I go live in my grandma’s house? Then I wouldn’t have to be anybody’s problem.”

Teddy shakes her head, a strand of her curly hair falling into her face, “Betty’s place is way too far from here. You need to be as close as possible to the clinic with how high-risk your pregnancy is. Joel lives two houses down from here and he has an extra bedroom. You wouldn’t be any kind of problem for him anyway.”

He shakes his head, “You wouldn’t be.”

He can tell you’re conflicted. Your eyes flit from his face, to Tommy’s, to Teddy’s, Maria’s, and then back to his. There’s a hint of something there in your irises– something that makes his skin crawl with the memory of when his own eyes looked as dull as yours. Grief. For what exactly, he doesn’t know, but it’s there.

“Okay,” you mumble, eyes going to your lap where your fingers are picking at your cuticles.

What has he gotten himself into?

“Okay,” Maria exclaims, “Good. Let’s let Teddy finish her exam– Joel, you stay with her until she’s done?”

He nods.

“Alright, let’s go, deputy.”

She waves a hand for Tommy to follow her.

His brother turns to you with an overly-confident smile and chuckles, “She’s embarrassed that if she admits she likes me that people might find out she has emotions. We’re married, y’know? You’d think people would’ve found out she’s not a robot by now.”

A small smile takes over your lips, barely reaching your eyes. There’s Tommy doing what he’s always been naturally good at– talking to people, making them feel comfortable and relaxed.

“Tommy,” Maria shouts from the entryway.

“Coming, wife!”

Joel doesn’t even have to see her to know that she’s rolling her eyes into the back of her head. She loves him to death, and so does he, but he’s always been a bit of a handful.

Teddy shakes her head amusedly as she listens to the tell-tale sound of the front door closing behind them.

She turns back to the room, with you in tow.

It’s another 20 minutes before Teddy comes back, but she’s alone. You’ve been left in the exam room by yourself.

Teddy flops into the chair next to him and lets out a heaving breath.

“She’s got a pretty large cut on her back that’s going to need the bandage changed at least once every day. So, I’ll be there every day around noon to change it until it’s healed, but if she starts to bleed through it, I’m gonna need you to help her do it. I assume you can do that?”

“Yeah.”

“She can walk on her own, but she just needs to keep that leg elevated and iced as much as possible– give it a couple weeks to heal up. Just keep an eye on her for me.”

“Okay.”

There’s an awkward pause. She won’t look at him, just stares off towards the large bay window that overlooks the snow-covered trees in front of them.

“Did she tell you what happened?”

She nods. Her face is emotionless. “Yes.”

“Do I get to know?”

Teddy purses her lips and shakes her head, “Not unless she tells you.”

Licking his lips, he nods back, “Okay.”

He tastes blood when he bites down on his bottom lip to rip a piece of dead, dry skin off. His tongue runs over the wound left behind– smooth, raw. He relishes the taste of the aftermath of his pain.

She looks over at him. “And, Joel?”

“Yeah?”

Her cool expression is replaced by concern– heavy, devastated concern.

She lets out a long breath and mutters back to him, “Please be patient with her.”

“Yup.”

Joel cannot handle this conversation anymore. He needs to get out of here before he explodes. In what? Anger? Remorse? Pity? He doesn’t care; getting out of here is what he needs and he needs it now.

Pushing himself up makes his knees crack with the effort. The oncoming winter always makes him feel his age more than anything. He masks his pain as he always does with a practiced cough and a slap to the side of his thigh.

“Whelp, gonna get outta your hair, Teddy. Tell Di I said ‘hey’.”

She looks equally relieved to be ending this conversation with him, even more so with the mention of her toddler.

“I will. She misses you; you should come visit soon.”

“I’ll try.”

He probably won’t.

WIth a quick side hug and a goodbye from Teddy, he walks out of the waiting area and to where you’re sitting in the exam room.

“Let’s go,” he states, pointing a finger towards the front door.

He doesn’t wait around for you to follow. You catch up.

Once you get to the porch, you begin talking to him quietly, “You know, you really don’t have to do this.”

You’re shivering aggressively, whether it’s the cold or the effort it takes you to talk to him, he doesn’t know. He’s just realized that you left your bloody coat behind in the exam room.

He shucks off his duck jacket and holds it out to you. You stare down at his hand like it’s going to bite you and shake your head reluctantly.

“Well, Mayor says I gotta, so seems like I don’t really have much of a choice, do I,” he replies with a huff, walking down to the bottom of the porch steps before your voice stops him.

“You could’ve said ‘no’.”

Your face is stoic, but he can see the apology in your eyes. They’re very expressive, like you can’t help that you wear your heart in them. He wonders if you even know.

He shakes his head, “She's my sister-in-law, I could not have said no.”

No response comes from you as you pick up your aching feet and creep your way down the steps. Joel offers to help, but you sigh and send a glare in his direction. He backs off.

When you’re at his side finally, he points at his house– two houses down and across the street. It’s a small thing– but it works for him and Ellie, who spends most of her time in the garage anyways. He’s always wanted to paint the light grey-blue siding something more neutral, but he just never has the time nor the energy and there’s no way in hell he’ll hire someone else to do it. Someday.

You fall into step beside him, heels of your boots clacking on the cracking concrete of the sidewalk.

The sweater dress you’re wearing looks comfortable, but the tights don’t look very warm and the large stain on the back of it must be freezing. His house is right there; he’ll let you borrow something of his while he goes to grab your bags from Betty’s.

You speak up again, arms crossed and hands shoved into your armpits.

“Tommy's your brother?”

“Yup.”

“Apple fell very far from the tree.”

He huffs, “Not really a talker.”

“No shit.”

You’re being brave. He can tell you’re nervous, but you’re trying your best to hold a conversation and that’s pretty fucking brave to him.

“Thank you,” you mutter through an exhale. Your breath is visible in the early morning air.

“Don’t gotta thank me. Just doin’ my job.”

“Thank you for doing your job, then.”

He doesn’t like being thanked. It makes him uncomfortable, rattles his bones. But he’s not going to ignore you when you’re being vulnerable– that would make him even more uncomfortable.

“No problem.”

A high-pitched voice screams across the road, “Joel!”

You both watch as Ellie runs down the street, her arms waving above her head like a lunatic, sneakers screeching because of the drag of her feet. The child has no decorum or manners.

He drops his forehead into his hand.

When she gets to the two of you, she leans over with both hands on her bent knees, breathing heavily. She takes a moment to recover. Joel spares a glance in your direction, but you’re no longer beside him. He catches a sliver of your hair as it whips behind him.

Ellie’s gonna be the death of him, probably you too if you scare this easily.

“Can I go over to Dina’s?”

His hands settle on his hips in his most “I’m not fucking around” pose, “No, kid. I gotta talk to you about somethin’. Go home.”

“What? Dude!”

“Don’t ‘dude’ me. Go,” he points to the house and leaves it at that.

She turns and stomps her way to the house with her arms crossed and a sour look on her face, “Ugh! Whatever, asshole.”

He loves her and he would travel to the ends of the earth for her; but it’s moments like these where sometimes he wished he was a little harder on her. Maybe she wouldn’t scream swear words in the middle of the street. He doubts it.

“Who was that?”

Joel clears his throat, “Uh, that's my kid.”

Your eyebrows furrow, expressing the most you have the entire morning, “You have a kid?”

It’s accusatory– the emphasis on the ‘you’. He can feel himself bristle with something at the accusation that he wouldn’t be capable of caring for a child. What is it about him that makes you think he wouldn’t have a kid?

You’re right. She’s not his. But he had a child. A long time ago.

He huffs through a dry chuckle, “Well, she’s not technically mine— but she lives with me and I feed her, so she’s my problem.”

“Whose is she?” Your eyes flick across the street to Ellie and then back to him.

He can’t help the sigh that leaves his lips.

“A friend’s. She passed away a few years ago and she didn’t have any family, so…”

Your face shifts with pity, forehead wrinkled and eyes wide, “Oh, I'm so sorry.”

He’s used to the pity– the stares, the muttered sorrys. He doesn’t want it from anyone, but he especially doesn’t want it from complete strangers like you.

“It’s alright. She was my daughter’s friend more than mine, but when she got sick, I agreed to take care of her kid.”

“Oh, you have a daughter?”

He feels the grief rip through his chest like he always does when someone mentions her. But you don’t know what happened like everyone else in this town does, so he’s not going to get irritable with you like he would with other people. Besides, you don’t need Joel to be an asshole to you when you’re supposed to be on bed rest.

He hesitates, “Yeah.”

Your eyes search his face– for what, he doesn’t know. But whatever you’re looking for, he thinks you’ve found it as you move the conversation on from her and onto Ellie’s frame as she slams the front door shut so loudly that the entire street can probably hear it. He thanks his face for conveying how desperately he does not want to talk with you about Sarah.

“What’s her name?” You point in the direction that the teenager went.

“Ellie.”

He shifts his stance, ready to restart your short walk to his house when you speak up.

“She seems like a good kid.”

He lets out a breath of amusement, “She's the best. Has a very colorful vocabulary though.”

You shrug, “Eh, she’s a teenager. I was a lot worse than her at that age.”

“Oh, really?” He’s not sure if this is surprising information or not. He’s having a hard time getting a read on you– and that’s a big part of his job, to read people. It feels wrong that he can’t figure you out.

“Yeah. I could’ve won some kind of award– ‘Worst Daughter In The World’. I would’ve deserved it too,” you huff.

He hums in acknowledgement. He doesn’t want you to feel like he’s ignoring you; he just doesn’t know what the hell to say to that. That you did deserve it? He wouldn’t know.

“It’s why my parents used to ship me off to my grandmother’s. ‘Grandma knows how to handle you’, they’d say. Really, I just liked her a lot more than them.”

He gets that. He really gets that.

“Well, I ain’t got nowhere to ship Ellie to. She’s stuck with me whether she likes it or not.”

You hum, “I think she likes it.”

He chuckles, “And you can tell that from a thirty-second argument?”

You look up at him with a burgeoning smile on your face, “She wouldn’t have listened to you if she didn’t like you– trust me.”

Trust me.

“Whatever you say, ma’am.”

You nod resolutely.

It’s silent the thirty seconds it takes to walk the rest of the way to Joel’s.

He shows you around the house and watches you as you map out his home in your head. You pay extra attention to the exits and the windows. Joel catches the way you stare longingly at the kitchen from the entryway.

When he walks up the stairs to show you the bedrooms, you lag behind. But he doesn’t notice until he’s already at the top of the stairs and he doesn’t hear your footsteps anymore. You’re staring at a picture on the wall. It’s of Sarah.

You don’t say anything. Just stare. He can’t get himself to say anything either.

One breath, two breaths. And you look up at him with something in your eyes that he can’t quite identify; it’s soft, but not pity. Understanding, maybe.

You walk up the rest of the stairs, holding tight to the banister. There’s a slight twitch in your lip when you put weight on your bad leg. He offers to help you, but you just shake your head.

He points out the upstairs bathroom, his room, and then guides you to the guest bedroom that’s been gathering dust for a while now. It used to be Ellie’s, but ever since she’d moved into the garage, it’s been empty. He’d renovated it on the very off chance that one of his relatives came to visit, but it’s stood empty for almost two years, so he doesn’t find himself opening the door very often.

“This’ll be your room. It’s not much, but it’s enough to get you through until you get that baby out of you.”

It’s a small room, enough to comfortably hold a double-bed, a couple side tables, and a dresser. The closet door stands ajar in the corner, full of Christmas decorations. He’s going to have to take those out– find somewhere else for them. Maybe Tommy has room in his basement–

“Okay,” you mumble, “Thank you.”

Your heels click on the hardwood floor in even beats as you walk into the room. Your evaluating eye examines the bed when you approach it. You swipe at a spot on the blanket and the dust jumps and sails through the air, illuminated by the sunlight. Once you’ve decided it’s good enough, you sit down slowly, a hand planted on the mattress behind you as you lower yourself.

Maria had said you were six months pregnant. He remembers how miserable Sarah’s mom had been at this time in her pregnancy. The memory makes him want to puke.

“I know it’s none of my business—“

You glower at him, “Yup. I would say that too.”

“But, whatever brought you here— I hope we can help you. You just let me know if you need anything.”

You soften a little, but the glare remains. “Okay.”

“You ain’t a talker either?”

The both of you know he isn’t talking about “talking”. Emotional vulnerability isn’t a strong suit of his, and it is very clearly not one of yours either.

“Nope.”

He nods, turns, and walks out the door.

Ellie is strong. You don’t lose your mom at thirteen and not have massive amounts of strength afterwards. But she is an expert pouter.

When Joel creeks open the garage door, Ellie is face down on her bed, limbs spread out beneath her. A punk song plays over her speaker that makes Joel’s ear drums pop. Even with the hearing loss in his right ear, he can feel his teeth rattling.

He walks over to the blasting stereo and turns it off.

Her head whips up to pierce him with a death glare, “What the fuck?!”

“Can’t hear myself think with that shit on.”

She mumbles something in her pillow, probably some egregious swear word or some insult related to his age, but he lets her get away with it. Your words come back to him– she wouldn’t listen to him if she really didn’t like him. He’s not patient with most people, but he tries to be for her.

He lowers himself on her bed with a grunt.

“She’s gonna be living with us until her baby comes.”

She hums into her pillow and stuffs her face even further into it.

Joel sighs, “What are you thinking, kid? I’m sorry you didn’t get much of a choice.”

Her voice is muffled as she responds, “Well, what does it matter what I think? You would’ve done it anyway.”

His eyebrows furrow, “What makes you think that?”

“Dina heard she was Betty’s grandkid. Is that true?”

He has no doubt that Dina already knows; she loves to harass Maria when she thinks something is going on and he’s sure that Ellie has been texting Dina since she was forced to go home.

He nods reluctantly. Joel is sure that as soon as he leaves the room, the stereo will be back on and her phone will be in her hands.

“Exactly. You would not have said ‘no’ to her.”

He sputters, “I’m very capable of sayin’ ‘no’.”

She shakes her head and flips over onto her back, “Not when Betty’s involved.”

He huffs, a small smile on his lips, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

He doesn’t hear the knock on the front door, but Ellie does.

“There’s someone at the door, old man.”

Joel sends a glare in her direction and hoists himself up and off her bed.

He walks to her door, but she interrupts him, “Hey, Joel?”

“Yeah, kid,” he huffs.

Her joking smirk has fallen off her face and a rare seriousness replaces it.

“I’m okay with it, by the way… with her staying. Don’t worry about it.”

All he does is nod. She mocks him with an equally gruff nod.

“We’re not done talkin’ about this; there’s gonna be some new rules around here,” he states.

Ellie throws her limbs up into the air and waves them around erratically, “Whatever! Get out of here so I can sulk!”

The door closes softly behind him and his quiet chuckle.

Opening the front door reveals Mrs. Cassini, his neighbor and the town gossip.

Her grey hair is in tight, pink curlers and she has a half-done knitting project in her hands, like she’d gotten up in a hurry. There’s little footsteps in the snow in a path from her porch, through his yard, and up to his own porch; her purple slippers are so soaked that they look like a completely different color.

She leaves no time for pleasantries.

“I hear you’ve got a pregnant, homeless woman living in your house.”

It’s gotten to a point where he doesn’t even question how she hears things anymore. He heard a rumor a long time ago from one of their other neighbors that somehow her landline picked up other people’s phone calls. He stopped using his landline after that.

He can’t help the breath of frustration that puffs out of his mouth, “Mrs. Cassini, go home, please. She doesn’t need you spreadin’ rumors about her. She’s already stressed enough as it is.”

Her eyes widen.

She gasps, “So, it’s true?”

Well, it was going to be confirmed at some point. Guess that point is right now.

“Mrs. Cassini, please go home.”

She huffs like a child, turns on her heel, and walks back to her little cottage next door. He needs to get some sort of security system in his house, specifically for this woman and her unexpected visits.

He hears footsteps scurry up the stairs when he turns around to go back into the house.

Well, shit.

Joel hadn’t heard the bedroom door open nor had he heard your footsteps as you came out. Mrs. Cassini always knew the worst times to show up, didn’t she?

He approaches the bottom of the stairwell and calls out to you as calmly as he can, “I assume you heard that?”

A tiny gasp comes from the top of the stairs and your feet come into view. You step down a couple stairs and sit yourself down carefully on the plush carpet.

You nod.

“I’m sorry. She’s just kinda like that. Town gossip and all.”

You shrug, stiff and dejected.

“I get it. Weird pregnant girl shows up and everyone’s gotta know what’s wrong with her.”

“Well, it’s none of their business. I’ll just keep turnin’ ‘em away.”

You grab your knees like a kid who’s in timeout. Why do you always look like you’re about to be reprimanded– like you have to protect yourself from some unseen force? He suspects he might look that way too sometimes.

“Thank you. For telling her to go away.”

He hums, hands awkwardly stuffed in his pockets.

“Well, uh, I gotta go back to work, but don’t worry about Bill– I’ll get him to drop the charges on you.”

“Oh, okay.” You nod with a faraway look in your eye, hands coming up to your stomach almost instinctively.And he leaves, hops into his ancient, blue pickup truck, and puts it into drive. What happened to his normal fucking day?

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saveyourblood · 2 days ago

Text

Pretty Boy - Ch 15 (Buddie x Reader)

Summary: Buck’s hands trail down to your hands. He takes his in yours. “Do you love him?” “Buck.” “I know you love me,” Buck continues, playing with your fingers. “You know I love you. But I’m asking if you love him.” The one where you’re an advanced paramedic, Buck and Eddie are firefighters, and you think you might be in love with both of them.

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10 | Ch 11 | Ch 12 | Ch 13 | Ch 14

(gif made by me) Word Count: 3.1k Warnings: angst, discussion of feelings (idk it feels worth a warning)

You slowly blink awake, wincing at the harsh sunlight flooding Eddie’s bedroom window. You roll over and sit up, stretching your hands over your head. You let out a groan as your spine cracks in protest.

You yawn, rubbing your hand down your face as you walk out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. Your throat dries when you see Buck and Eddie sitting at the kitchen table.

“Hey,” you greet awkwardly, then make a beeline towards the coffee maker.

“You aren’t supposed to drink coffee if you’re…”

“If I’m what, Buck?” You chuckle lightly as you grab a mug. “You can say the word ‘pregnant.’ It’s not a curse or something.”

Buck lets out a breath that resembles a laugh. “Right. Sorry.”

You shrug it off. “Besides, pregnant people can have 200mg of caffeine a day, which is about a cup and half of coffee.”

Buck looks at Eddie.

Eddie raises his eyebrows. “Are you gonna take it away from her? Because I’m not.”

You lean against the counter with a satisfied grin.

Buck takes a sip of his own coffee. “So, we’re really doing this?”

Your grin fades and your mouth fills with sand. “Uh, yeah, I guess. I mean, this isn’t how I imagined it happening, but… I always knew I wanted at least one kid.”

You’re not naive; this is far from the ideal circumstance. Your jobs are demanding and unpredictable, and adding school on top of it, your life is already chaotic. Adding pregnancy and an eventual baby to the mix? You have no fucking idea how you’ll make it work.

But… you should make it work. Because even if it’s the wrong timing, you have a lot of factors working in your favor. You have a successful career that earns you a decent income. You have not one, but two committed partners. You’re nearing your 30s. It’ll probably never be a ‘good’ time to have a kid, so this might be as good as it’ll get.

At the end of the day, though, you’re only in it if they are, too.

“What do you boys think?”

“I think…” Buck starts, then leans back in his chair. “I think it’s your decision.”

Oh. Wow. He’s… considering other options. Or at least, he’s putting those options on the table. And you know why: it’s because he’s a good man. He doesn’t want you to feel trapped. He’s giving you an out.

But you don’t want an out. And him giving you an out means you can’t help but wonder if he also wants an out. And thinking about that makes your heart fall into your stomach.

“Okay,” you eventually say. You somehow manage to keep your voice level. “Eddie, what about you?”

Eddie breathes in through his nose. You watch his chest rise and fall. “Honestly?”

You nod. You want — need — nothing but complete and utter honesty.

“I’ve always wanted Christopher to have a sibling.”

You smile. You can see Buck nudge Eddie’s foot under the table.

“But, of course, it’s your body, so it’s your choice,” Eddie quickly adds.

You set your coffee cup on the counter behind you so you can wrap your arms around Buck’s shoulders. “I wanna do this.”

Buck turns in your arms to look up at you. “Yeah?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

A smile creeps across his face. He gently pulls your arm so you’re to the side of him. He sets a hand on your stomach. “There’s a baby in there.”

You run a hand through his hair, then look across the table at Eddie. “ Our baby is in there.”

Eddie smiles. You cock your head, silently prompting him. He takes the hint and pushes away from the table, joining the two of you on the other side. He stands between the two of you, setting a hand on each of your shoulders.

“Hey, you have a pregnant girlfriend now, so you can’t be doing stupid shit,” you say softly, wrapping your free arm around his waist.

Eddie’s smile softens a little as he nods. “I’m gonna talk to Bobby, get set up to talk someone.”

“Good,” you say, kissing his cheek, “because we need you around. All three of us.”

Eddie kisses your forehead, then the top of Buck’s head.

Eddie doesn’t talk about his feelings. It’s probably because he grew up in a house where people didn’t talk about their feelings. Sometimes, though, Eddie really thinks it’s just the way that he is. Some people have no problem discussing emotions, and some people… are Eddie Diaz. It’s not a big deal. It shouldn’t be a big deal.

“So… what would you like to talk about, Eddie?”

“I… don’t know,” Eddie says with a sigh.

There are a lot of things he probably should talk about. There’s probably a lot of childhood trauma to unpack, and don’t even get him started on the dead wife and sudden single father thing. He could talk about his parents or his time in the army. The thing is, though, is he doesn’t want to talk about any of that. He’s not here for his inner child, or his dead wife, or his parents, or his army buddies.

He isn’t doing this for himself. He’s doing it for you and Buck.

Eddie opens his mouth, then closes it. He furrows his brow in contemplation. “Nothing I say leaves this room, right? I mean, if I tell you something, you can’t tell my captain, right?”

“As long as you don’t plan on hurting yourself or anyone else, nothing you say leaves this room,” Frank replies.

Well, if that’s the case, he may as well talk about the actual reason he’s here.

“My partners are worried about me,” Eddie eventually says.

“Your work partners?”

“No. Well, yes, technically, but…” Eddie sighs again, pinching the skin between his eyebrows. “God, this is so stupid.”

Frank doesn’t say anything, waiting for Eddie to elaborate.

“I have a girlfriend, I have a boyfriend, and we all work together. She’s a paramedic, he’s a firefighter.”

“Do they know that you’re dating both of them?”

“What? Oh, yeah, they were dating each other before I started dating them,” Eddie explains. “It’s… complicated.”

“Is that why you’re here?”

Eddie shrugs. “I guess. That, and the fact that she’s pregnant.”

Frank pauses, looking up from the binder sitting in his lap. “...Are congratulations in order?”

The question brings him back to his conversation with Buck, the one they had before you woke up.

“So… we both want this.”

“Of course.”

“Okay, great! But… if she doesn’t… we have to respect that.”

“Of course.”

“And we have to mention it right off the bat, just in case.”

“Okay.”

“We can’t influence her decision in any way.”

“Alright, Buck.”

“It’s her body, so it’s her choice.”

“Yeah, Buck, I get it!”

He smiles. Eddie hopes you know how much Buck loves you. His smile falters a little. He hopes you know how much he loves you.

“It’s a good thing,” Eddie confirms softly. “It’s great, actually. I’m excited to be a dad again.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I’m here because my parents are visiting.”

If Eddie’s going to therapy, Buck figured it only makes sense if he also goes to therapy. When he initially brought up the idea, you were supportive, of course, but you also poked a little fun, which he should have expected.

‘ You just have to do everything Eddie does, huh? I’d make a joke about following him into a burning building, but given our job, it doesn’t feel appropriate. ’

In Buck’s defense, he isn’t just doing it because of Eddie — he’s thought about going to therapy for a long time. So when Maddie said their parents were coming to town, Buck figured it was the closest thing to a sign from the universe he would get.

“Well, if them visiting brings you to therapy, something tells me the relationship isn’t great,” Rosemary notes.

Buck figured it was a conflict of interest if Frank was also his therapist, so Bobby set him up with Rosemary instead. She’s a nice-looking woman; not in the sense that he’s attracted to her, but in the sense that she looks like a nice person to be around. Her hair is light grey and curly, and her circle frame glasses cover the smile lines around her green eyes. She looks like someone’s sassy grandmother or maybe a fun great-aunt.

“It’s not great,” Buck says with a light chuckle. “It always felt like it was me and my sister versus them.”

“How so?”

“They… didn’t pay attention to either of us.” It sounds so juvenile when he says it out loud. “I mean, it felt like they only cared about me when I got hurt; I was a pretty reckless kid.”

“Sounds like they were a contributing factor to that,” Rosemary observes. “Children tend to take attention however they can get it, even if it means hurting themselves or others.”

“This sounds crazy, but… it didn’t even feel like I was fighting a real person. They were just a moving punching bag.” Eddie laughs humorlessly. “Kind of an oxymoron, isn’t it? I would spend the whole day helping people, then I would turn around and hurt them.”

Frank taps his pencil against his binder. “You said you didn’t feel like you were fighting a real person. Tell me more about that.”

“What’s there to tell? That’s how I justified it. It’s how I… coped, I guess. If they weren’t real, I wasn’t hurting anyone, and if I wasn’t hurting anyone, it meant I could keep doing it.”

Frank hums in acknowledgment. “How do you cope now?”

“Huh?”

“You changed the way you act, but that doesn’t change the way you feel,” Frank says. “It doesn’t change the fact that you need an outlet. So, how do you cope now?”

“I cope by avoiding them.”

“You’re having dinner with them,” Rosemary points out. “How well do you think avoidance will work when you’re in the same room with them?”

Rosemary may look like someone’s fun great-aunt, but she speaks more like the drunk uncle — with brutal honesty. Buck appreciates it, but he also wants to wince every time she opens her mouth. It’s a confusing combination.

“Probably not that well,” Buck eventually says.

Rosemary smirks. “So how do you plan on getting through it?”

“Maddie,” he says instantly. “Like I said, it’s always been me and her versus them.”

“Even though Maddie’s the one that invited them. Without telling you.”

Yeah, Buck’s been trying not to think about that too hard.

“She wants her daughter to have grandparents,” Buck says.

“What do you want?”

“I want this. It just… isn’t how I pictured it.”

“You didn’t picture yourself marrying Shannon. You did that.”

“Yeah, well, my family was happy to hear about that one,” Eddie expresses. “This? Not so much.”

“You’re afraid of what your family will think.”

Eddie scoffs. “I’m not afraid — I know what they’ll think. And I don’t want to deal with it.”

Frank turns his head. “You must love them a lot.”

Something about that sentence makes the back of Eddie’s throat burn with bile. “W-what?”

“You think your family will be disappointed in you, which will hurt them. You don’t want to hurt them because you love them.”

Eddie’s jealous of you and Buck for a lot of different reasons. He’s jealous of Buck’s close relationship with his sister. He’s jealous of your skills and ambition. Not once, though, has he ever envied either of your family dynamics.

Until now.

See, Maddie figured out the whole ‘throuple’ thing pretty quickly, mostly because Buck can’t lie to her. It took her a while to adjust, but she doesn’t care — she doesn’t judge. The only family you have to tell is the 118. Buck doesn’t have a relationship with either of his parents, and you don’t talk to your only living parent.

He’s jealous of how easy it is for the two of you. Neither of you has to explain the relationship to your elderly grandmother or preteen son. Sometimes, it seems like the two of you get all the good parts of being together, and he gets stuck with the sucky parts. It’s not fair to feel that way, he knows that. But he can’t help but feel it.

“My parents had a lot of expectations for me,” Eddie says. “Dating two people at the same time and possibly knocking up one of them? Not one of the expectations.”

“You’re not going to tell them, then.”

“I just don’t see the point. All I would be doing is giving them more ammunition.”

“Hmm.”

Buck narrows his eyes. “What does ‘hmm’ mean?”

“Well,” Rosemary sighs, “from what you’ve told me, it sounds like you aren’t all that interested in establishing a good relationship with your parents.”

“I’m not.”

“So why not tell them about everything ? How you feel, your relationship…”

“Because it would end in screaming and crying,” Buck says. “I don’t think that was Maddie’s intention when she invited them.”

“Do you always base your actions on what’s best for others, not yourself?”

Eddie gets done before Buck, so he takes a seat in the waiting room; they scheduled their appointments at the same time so they could carpool.

Buck walks out a few minutes later. Eddie pockets his phone and greets him with a smile. “How did it go?”

It probably would have hurt less if Rosemary just slapped him across the face. As it turns out, healing isn’t supposed to be comfortable. Really, Buck would describe it as painful, like the dull ache of a tooth growing in. It’s the type of pain that’s ultimately worth it, but when the end isn’t in sight, it just hurts.

“Fine,” Buck says simply. “You?”

Eddie isn’t sure if he and Frank click. Then again, Eddie isn’t sure he’ll click with anyone who expects them to bear his soul to them. It’s hard to feel comfortable around someone whose every other sentence makes you itch. It is not a simple surface discomfort, either: it’s the kind of twinge you can feel in your bones.

“It was okay.”

“How was it? Did you boys share all of your deep dark secrets?”

“That’s next week,” Eddie jokes. He kisses the top of your head as he walks by you in the kitchen.

Buck grins, taking a seat next to you at the table. “What have you been up to?”

“Homework,” you groan as you close your laptop. “God, all of this better be worth it.”

“It will be,” Buck promises, setting a hand on your knee.

You smile. “Oh! I have something for you both.”

Eddie frowns, sitting across from Buck as you dig through the backpack on the floor beside your chair. You return with a series of black-and-white photos. You hand one to each of the boys.

“I went to my OB a few days after the ER visit,” you explain. “I wanted to make sure I actually had something to tell you.”

The ‘baby’ isn’t more than a white blob on the sonogram; you can barely make out the difference between the butt and the head. When you were in the office, all you could feel was shock. Now, though, watching the men you love stare at the sonogram with wide eyes… you feel nothing but joy.

“It’s a girl,” Buck says, pointing at the white blob. “I can tell.”

“You can not ,” you snort. “It’s literally impossible.”

“Trust me, it’s a girl,” Buck says. “Don’t you think, Eddie?”

You both look at Eddie. He’s staring at the picture with watery eyes.

“Eddie?” you ask softly, reaching out for one of his hands. “Are you okay?”

Your voice snaps him back to reality. He looks at you, then the sonogram again, then at you again. He lets out a breath that sounds sort of like a laugh.

“I’m okay,” he assures. “I’m… I’m just so happy.”

His response makes your eyes well up — damn hormones.

Eddie scoots out of his chair and leans over, pulling you into a hug. Moments later, you feel Buck wrap an arm around your shoulders, and without looking, you know his other arm is around Eddie.

“So… really, what did you guys talk about?”

The three of you are lying in bed. Buck is laying on top of Eddie, who has his arm wrapped around you. Buck has an open hand set on top of your stomach. They both turn their heads to look at you.

“Unless you really don’t want to talk about it, which I would respect,” you quickly add.

Buck shrugs. “I mostly talked about my parents.”

You raise your eyebrows. You shouldn’t be so surprised: out of all the topics in Buck life that require therapizing, his parents is probably at the top of the list.

“Funny, I talked about my parents too,” Eddie mentions.

Buck turns his head so his chin is resting on the space right below Eddie’s sternum. “Really?”

“Yeah. I told Frank how excited I am to be a dad again, but I don’t think my parents will be thrilled.”

“Were they happy the first time?” Buck frowns.

“Not… exactly,” Eddie cedes, “but I think this time, it’ll be worse.”

“I guess I luck out in that area,” you note.

You know that polyamory is still a very taboo topic. The people in your little bubble are supportive, but they’re just that: in your bubble. You know the rest of the world, including parents and other family members, won’t accept your relationship so easily. It’s easy for you to shrug that reality off, considering you don’t have any family you’re worried about disappointing. You know Eddie doesn’t have it so easy.

Your phone rings on the nightstand table. When you pick it up, you see that it’s an unknown caller. You recognize the area code, but it isn’t one in LA. Hell, it isn’t one from California.

You click ‘accept’ with a frown. “Hello? …That’s me, yes. Why are you calling me?”

Buck and Eddie share a confused look before turning back to you.

“Yeah. …Mhm. …Oh. Okay. Yeah, I’ll… figure something out and call you back. …Thanks, you too.”

You hang up and set your phone back down. You stare straight ahead, your eyebrows still pulled together.

“Who was that?”

“Stillwater General Hospital in Seattle,” you say slowly. “My, uh… my dad is dying.”

#911 abc #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #911 show #911 on abc #911 reader insert #evan buckley/reader #eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz #evan buckley x eddie diaz x reader #Buddie x reader #buddie x reader #pretty boy fic #i can write

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the-menace-in-pink · 3 days ago

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The real story behind Shizuku joining the Phantom Troupe

I feel like Shizuku’s recruitment in the Troupe happened completely by accident. Like, she stopped by their hideout to deliver pizzas or something. Then, Pakunoda or a sleepy Phinks let her inside and told her to wait while they go fetch some cash after realizing the Troupe’s communal jar was empty—thanks to Franklin and Machi’s secret late night food orders.

And like, immediately after Phinks walked away, she started wandering around the hideout and somehow ended up in Chrollo’s study. He didn’t notice her at first since he was busy dissecting and poking around at the prisoner Feitan had just accidentally killed (oopsies). Then she prob spotted some fresh blood on a nearby bookshelf and without thinking twice activated Blinky and vacuumed up the shit out of the entire shelf before anyone could stop her.

And like before Chrollo got to fully process the loss of a beloved fraction of his carefully curated collection, she started vacuuming away the 2-3 corpses laying around that they had been arguing over who had to clean up. She didn’t seem the least bothered by it so they were all like wait—WHERE DID THAT GO?

Feitan’s just like??? WHERE THE FUCK’S MY PRISONER??? BRING THEM BACK.

While Chrollo’s standing there staring at her like she’s the manifestation of all his pet-peeves and grudges packaged in one boba-eyed, vacuum-yielding peasant.

And she looks equally confused like wtf do you mean what did I do… I cleaned? Made yall a favor?? Idk?? 👁️ 👄 👁️

Phinks’ fully sober, fists tightening like WHO LET HER IN?????

While Pakunoda’s blanching at Chrollo’s traumatized face then yelling back at Phinks like YOU DID. WHAT DID WE SAY ABOUT LEAVING RANDOM PEOPLE UNSUPERVISED IN OUR PROPERTY???

(Also the corpses were most likely unlucky people Phinks left unsupervised as he went to fetch for money too. The way this is sounding like a crack retelling of Blue Beard—)

- Cue chaotic interrogations (during which she reveals she has no fucking idea where the vacuumed objects go, and that she don’t really gaf, tho she can bring back corpse #3 since it’s the last thing Blinky ate up…. Chrollo has to hold back tears, while Machi’s making sure the threads she’s discreetly tied around him are holding up),

- Some stray stabbings (thanks, Feitan)

- Pakunoda’s memory probing (she finds out Shizuku’s a black belt)

- Back-and-forth exchanges as they try to piece together wtf went down. At some point someone’s just like… Let’s recruit her, she’s kinda insane and so detached… gonna be useful.

Chrollo was 100% okay with recruiting her ass, bc yes, what she did is unforgivable, but he’s a tactician first and foremost. But he was veeeeery lukewarm (at best) towards her for like weeks. Like she just vacuumed to another dimension one of his favorite book series lmao. He’s taking her existence very personally.

For like the first couple of weeks he’d just darkly glare at her whenever she entered a room, and be so petty with the missions assigning. He’d send her on the most tedious ones (oftent to acquire and retrieve rare books and scrolls to build back his lost shelf…) and would use disturbing threats and rules regarding her nen ability use as some kind of psychological torture.

‘If you so much as look at the cover for more than 1 second, Feitan will handle you.’

‘Eyes down when you enter a library. Have some shame.’

‘You’re not allowed to fight with Bingo. If you die, that’s a skill issue.’

Shizuku: it’s Blinky.

(At this point Pakunoda’s walking around with handcuffs just in case — for Shizuku, Chrollo and Feitan)

Eventually they all soften and warm up to her, even Chrollo though his grudge over his lost books never disappears lol. He starts to find her endearing like a little sister… and honestly, what’s the difference between her little mishaps and his pet cat? Exactly.

Also the house has new rules after she joins:

- Shizuku shall NEVER be assigned to cleaning duties. Never. Even if it’s a regular vacuum.

- Shizuku can’t conjure Blinky near anything valuable or edible. They can’t have her starve them to death.

- Never leave her unsupervised if there’s a 1% chance she might stare for too long at a fellow member’s stuff.

(Also on like day 5 of her trial period as a spider, they find out she randomly disposed of the OG delivery guy. Turns out she knocked him dead and stole his scooter on an impulse, and made her way to the hideout purely out of curiosity.)

#hunter x hunter #hxh #phantom troupe #hxh headcanons #chrollo lucilfer #machi komacine #shizuku murasaki #phinks magcub #hxh pakunoda #feitan portor #Blinky #origin story #phantom troupe headcanons #franklin bordeau #hxh chrollo #genei ryodan

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bite-sized-tboy · 2 days ago

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Big sis who notices you staring at the huge bulge in her tight jeans. "I can see you staring at it, you little shit." You sheepishly try to deny it, but she's not having it. She goes over to you and takes off her jeans to reveal her big, hard cock in all in its glory. You're so shocked you can't think of anything to say. She forces you down onto your knees, and before you even have time to react she starts rubbing her cock and balls all over your blushing face. "Here, take a closer look since you're so fucking fascinated by it." You can't believe this is happening. You've secretly longed for your sister's cock for so long now, but you never thought you'd actually get it. It's even better than you imagined, and you're so mesmerized by what she's making you do that she eventually has to slap you with her cock to get your attention. "Hey, twerp! Open your mouth!" You do so without a moment's hesitation, and she doesn't waste any time either as she begins fucking your face like a fleshlight. "There you go, that's it. Take it all in like a good boy." The floor gets drenched in the drool dripping from your tiny mouth, a mouth which is making noises an innocent little boy should never be making as your big sister keeps pumping her cock in and out, in and out, in and out. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, I think I'm gonna cum!" With one final thrust she shoots her load straight down your throat and into your tummy. "God that felt so good, I should fuck your face more often." She pulls her cock out and slaps you with it again. "That's what you get for staring." She puts her jeans back on and walks away, leaving you on the floor like a toy she's finally done playing with.

- 🏳️‍⚧️

😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

i need to save this somewhere to read over and over <3 making a damn new tag for this holy fuck

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goddamnitmahtin · 1 day ago

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How I think it would go if I ended up inside a tumbler dc x dp universe

Okay so falling through a portal into Crime Alley? Not the worst thing that’s ever happened. Definitely not the best either though. Phone? Gone. Money? Gone. Mental and emotional stability? Was gone before this ever happened. So this is fine…

The dark streets and the sun’s refusal to come out of the clouds literally ever would probably scare most people but honestly it was a nice vacation from bright light. The city itself was gods awful and hella unsafe but hey- it had aesthetic you know? The only thing that really made it hard to live here was the fact that no one wanted to hire me.

“You look like one of them Wayne kids. Don’t even bother with me. Just go back to your mansion and ask Brucie if you need cash.”

Ah. Well. I would if I actually was “one of them Wayne kids.” Alas I was not. Eventually I was rejected enough times that I started to contemplate whether or not “asking Brucie” would actually work. According to locals he seems ditzy enough and adopted more children than he could keep track of. Was it a stupid idea? Absolutely. Was I gonna try it anyways? Fuck yeah.

Anyways that’s how I ended up living in the walls of Wayne Manor for like a month.

…

To be honest? It wasn’t that hard to get in. I looked the part so to speak with black hair and blue eyes so when I hopped into the back seat of a fancy looking limo, the driver just kind of assumed? and drove me right to the manor.

It was late and it seemed like there wasn’t much staff in the house itself. Just some old butler guy that looked like he knew way too much. About what I couldn’t tell you but he had that vibe that he’s seen enough death to know when to not ask questions.

“Master Wayne?” I looked at the man. He totally knew I wasn’t supposed to be there. He had that look in his eye. But he was playing along.

“Uh yeah. I’m just gonna go grab some food real quick and then leave,” maybe if I just bounced from the joint after a meal he wouldn’t tell anyone?

The butler nodded, “I will prepare you a meal then and have it ready for you in the dining room.” Holy shit he was actually playing along for real. Okay well then.

After exploring the place a little, it seemed pretty empty at the moment, I went to the dining room and sure enough this butler guy had actually made me some food. And it was fucking good. After living on the streets for several months at this point, this was the best thing ever.

I ate as much as I could, shoveling food into my face. This was the first real meal I had been able to really eat since spawning into Gotham. Hell it was the first real meal since even before that.

After I ate as much as I could, I stole as many bread rolls I could fit into my pockets and was about to leave just like I had promised I would when I heard voices that did not belong to the butler guy.

I uh… well I didn’t make the best decision when I hopped through the wall to hide. I was expecting to find another room on the other side but no, these wall were thick and I could stand comfortably in the space between the plaster on either side of me, given I didn’t bump into a wire or two that was running along the studs.

I was planning to leave once the coast was clear but ended up passing out as the exhaustion of constantly fighting off muggers and evading goons from various villains (not me mention I hadn’t slept in nearly 72 hours) caught up with me.

After that I just kind of… forgot to leave? It was easy enough to get around the manor just inside the walls and whenever I did need to get somewhere in the manor where people could see me, I was most of the time mistaken for someone else who also lived there.

“Oh hey Dick,” said by a sleep deprived and slightly delirious man I later learned to be named Tim as he headed out one day.

“Tim go to bed,” said by a just as, if not more, sleep deprived man who was older than the rest that I figured was Bruce. He had been in the library and had seen me walk by.

I once got a wave from a blonde girl who seemed to be on a mission to get somewhere.

Only the butler who I learned was called Alfred seemed to really grasp that I was in the house at all. And I knew this because he kept leaving plates of food or cookies or even sometimes small handfuls of candies out for me to find. Sometimes he would even give the wall a little tap to tell me he left me something.

Life in the walls of Wayne Manor was alright enough. That was until I kind of… well I got bored. I figured that if I could pull off pretending to be one of them in passing and even for short conversations, why not try to up the wager a little? For fun.

So during one of the family dinners that they held together sometimes, I just kind of… sat down at the table. And started eating with everyone.

At first it was pretty easy to keep my head down and not be super noticeable. Bruce hardly looked up from his food and everyone else looked too tired to really think about how many people were actually at the table.

That was until a tank of a man walked in and sat at the table, late for the function. He reeked of death. The amount of anger and grief this guy had oozed out of him and it was honestly suffocating.

“Hey B, when did you adopt another one?” Jason asked as he sat down.

“I didn’t-?” Bruce looked up from his food and scanned the table, his eyes eventually falling on me, “… who are you?”

Shit

“Ah- well…” I didn’t get to really explain before Bruce spoke again.

“And why didn’t anyone tell me someone was in our house?”

“Ah well I just kinda assumed,” said Tim.

That got a lot of murmurs of agreement from the rest of the table, Damian giving a pointed, “Given your track record Father, you cannot blame us.”

Bruce sighed and looked back at me, a very tired man, “What are you doing here?”

“I uh… I’m here for the food mostly.” It was all I could really think to say at the moment.

The air hung thick with tension as we all sat silently for a longer time than I was really comfortable with. That was until I heard a familiar voice.

“Hey guys, sorry for being so late. I would have gotten a ride from Jason but I had to work a little later than I wanted to.”

Motherfucker.

I whipped my head around to look at the man that just walked in, “DANNY?!”

#dcu #dc x dp crossover #dc x dp #self insert #batfam #jason todd

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judgeanon · 3 days ago

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So How About That Batgirl #3

I didn't transplant my review of #2 here because there wasn't that much more to say, especially in regards to Lady Shiva (which is always the most important part of any comic with her in it for me) but #3, hooo boy, there's a lot to talk about for this one.

It introduces, or maybe just expands, a concept that kinda had me feeling a bit nervous but eventually won me over, and still has room for some fun narrative trickery. So I'm gonna go ahead and post my full review of the issue down here:

Picking off where #2 left off, #3 starts with Shiva and Cass on a train heading out of Gotham to meet some allies in their fight against the unburied. And Cass is noooot happy about it.

These opening pages follow the same character dynamic we've seen so far, with Cass openly rejecting her mother's remarks while inwardly rejecting her mother in general -- her inner monologue constantly reassuring herself that Shiva is a lonely manipulative monster while Cass is a good person, clearly to try to chase away the guilt of leaving everyone behind. The desperation in Cass' inner voice to paint Shiva as an unredeemable monster is very palpable and very good in the face of everything that's happened so far.

But the next pages made me a little concerned, with Shiva berating Cass while goading her about her relation with the batfamily. And while we've seen Shiva take jabs at that before, notably in Hill's Outsiders, back then it felt more pointed (and a little meta, what with the whole "He won't even let you be Batgirl" thing), while here Shiva's comments on languages, while true in a way, felt more openly cruel. Bordering on villainous.

Had the issue stayed this way, I would've been very worried about this whole arc turning into yet another milquetoast "Evil bio mom, good found family" yarn. But then the track switches.

The lion's share of the issue is dedicated to introducing the survivors of the Order of Shiva, who have dedicated thier lives not to just worship the deadliest hands on Earth, but to study, learn & better themselves through her example. Which is an idea that could've gone very wrong. Personally? I think this is kinnnnnda neat. Mostly.

The thing is, I've never been a fan of Shiva having any kind of cult or organization built around her. I think it's the kind of stuff that can weigh her down and, at worst, just be used to make her more of a pure villain, like in Dixon's RICHAR DRAGON run. But in this issue, the idea slowly won me over with how Brombal uses it to explore two overlooked aspects of Shiva:

The first is that Shiva, at her best, tends to inspire others. Just by entering a person's life, Shiva, tends to change their perceptions of reality, of what's possible. When Shiva entered Vic's life, she indirectly got him to question a lot of things about how he viewed reality. Same with Dinah and, yes, Cass herself. And this order seems to be entirely built on that idea of Shiva as someone who makes people rethink everything (albeit with way more altruism than Shiva herself).

The other thing this whole scene explores is Shiva's dualities and seeming contradictions, her nature as both destroyer and restorer. Which is something I'm always happy to see, especially nowadays. But this is also where my one big problem with this issue lies: it pays a lot of lip service to Shiva as a healer without actually showing it.

A mention is made of Cass rejecting Shiva's help, but an actual moment of Shiva using her healing skills, to me, would've really helped support High Priest's Jayesh gushing praise of that dual nature.

Just a couple of panels of her doing some funky pressure point head massage, it's all I'm asking.

Beyond that, I do have one nitpick that's just about the one thing that keeps me from fully embracing this idea, and that's Shiva's level of involvement with the order. Jayesh drops a hint of how he met Shiva, and she seems to care at least a little for him and for the Order, but there's not a lot said about how much she helped them build and maintain it.

If they're all people who ran into her, had their minds opened and built an order around their idea of her, that's one thing. If she helped them build it then that's another. Her small moments of caring do seem to indicate she's also warmed up to them, which would suggest some relatively high involvement, which I don't really like. I'd much prefer the order being something that Shiva is aware of but keeps at arm's length, a bunch of well-intentioned groupies that, like the issue says, follow her example rather than her orders. The bottom line is that I don't like anything that Shiva seems to be too attached to, but even if she was, I'm still mostly OK with this idea.

Anyway, the final leg of the issue is dedicated to a very entertaining chase and fight across the rest of the train that's a delight to see. And while my copy's all digital, I imagine it's way better in paper. Miyazawa and Spicer clearly have a lot of fun with these pages and it continues the run's interesting dynamic of Cass and Shiva never being fully in sync during a fight, always fighting each other as much as whoever's all around them.

But apart from the action, the thing that rang a lot of bells for me was Cass' narration as it insists again that Shiva is nothing but a monster and that Cass is nothing like her, eventually flowing towards a very heroic list of all her family members and their core traits that's very nice and heartwarming... and desperate.

Because the narration in this scene all reads to me like Cass arguing with herself. It reads desperately like her trying to chase away the dual thoughts that her mother may not be a complete monster AND that she herself, Cass, really is a lot like her mother.

Hell, the scene is literally Cass running away from Shiva, punching through what she sees as undisputable proof of her mother's lies while checklisting the family she does want and love, physically and mentally fighting against even the possibility of Shiva being worthy of more than her disgust. It's not Cass rejecting Shiva for being evil, it's her trying to reject the evidence that she may have something resembling good in her.

So the whole thing takes a very heroic cliche, Cass naming all these loved one to give her strength, and turns into a flailing flurry of mental gymnastics from Cass to allow herself to keep rejecting Shiva, to maintain this inner image of her as a monster while refusing any connection with her. And it's all pretty compelling stuff.

The issue then ends with one final surprise as Cass runs into the rest of Shiva's allies: a resurrected Nyssa Al-Ghul, Angel Breaker and a brand new character we'll apparently learn more about next month. So yeah, this was an interesting issue. The pacing of the arc is still a bit slow, but with all the players (hopefully) at the table and three issues to go, I hope the rest of the arc will pick up steam and keep chugging along smoothly.

I wasn't expecting the Order of Shiva to get much more play after #1. I certainly wasn't expecting them to get expanded like this. And I definitely didn't expect it to win me over this much. Minor quibbles aside, I gotta give props to Brombal for the obvious thought he's put when laying down these tracks for Shiva, and I'm definitely in for the rest of the ride.

(then again, maybe I'm just being blinded by the intense relatability of my man Jayesh over here. I feel you, brother. Hope you survive this arc)

#Lady Shiva #Batgirl #DC #Comics #Cassandra Cain #Tate Brombal #Tak Miyazawa #Mike Spicer #Train puns

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sailorscout93 · 3 days ago

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Scout watches Cynthia and Ariana’s Wicked commentary part 4! Starts right after Popular up until Elphie gets the letter from the Wizard. Warning, I go on tangents again in this one. I info dump one of my favorite shipping headcanons and I infodump about one of the 10 deleted scenes that we get 😂

1. I love that Cynthia requested the hairstyle for this part being “something that Galinda would’ve given Elphaba to do!” Such a cute little Easter egg!

2. “WOOWWWW okay Fiyero! You didn’t have to say it like that! I don’t like it.” 😂😂😂 Ari being Galinda again

3. “Do you want a lolly?” omg they would have snacks while doing this

3. I don’t know which of them said “He’s so good.” Talking about Johnny Bailey’s Fiyero in the forest scene but at first I heard “He’s so gay” and I was like “I mean… true, but odd thing to say?” Listen…. I have auditory processing issues because of my autism so it takes me a little longer to process what I’ve heard 😂

4. The way they both agree that Galinda is jealous that Elphie took Fiyero with to rescue the cub instead of her but it wouldn’t have even crossed Galinda’s mind that something could have happened between Elphaba and Fiyero at that moment. Galinda being Elphie’s jealous GF, not Fiyero’s confirmed!

5. And then Immediately confirmed that Elphie ALSO didn’t think of anything happening between her and Fiyero, but Fiyero might have….. Fiyero holds the brain cell of the poly Thropple also confirmed! (Yes I primarily ship Gelphie, but I do also ship the trio as a polycule) Specifically I ship it in the sense of Act II Glinda and Fiyero being in a ‘lavender marriage’ (where one or both partners in a straight appearing relationship is actually gay and the public “relationship” between them is a cover up for the gay person, usually for political/social reasons) but they both agree that they’re missing Elphaba. Fiyero eventually leaves to go find Elphie, brings her back through some means, they defeat the wizard and Morrible, the events of the Wizard of Oz never necessarily happen maybe? Idk. I’d have to write more details if I wanted to flesh it out. One thing leads to another (as it so often does) and they end up as a trio with Lesbian Glinda with her Elphie and in a QPR with Fiyero because he’s like her best friend but she doesn’t want him like that (maybe she’s also a little ace-spec? Am I projecting? Maybe!) and Elphie and Fiyero are also together. Okay moving on….. lol

6. I should’ve kept a tally of how many times Ariana fangirls over Cynthia’s singing 😂

7. OMG they’re mentioning the Elphaba’s Promise deleted scene and how they get why it was deleted. Okay I’m gonna go on a tangent of info dumping again lol so I saw an interview of Jon Chu where he explained WHY he ultimately chose not to put that scene in the final movie and as much as I WISH that scene was in the film, his reasoning makes sense. It gets the story a little ahead of itself and kinda gives continuity issues with Elphaba asking Glinda to come with her to the Emerald City if before they find out about her going to meet the Wizard she tells Glinda “I won’t leave you behind again.” Then it sets up this narrative that we would EXPECT Glinda to go to the Emerald City with her and it kinda jumbles up the “come with me!” At the train station. That’s why it was left out in the end.

8. Last one for now: The Easter egg of Elphie’s hair getting looser and less uptight over the course of the movie as she grows into who she is…. 😭 and then they fangirl over each other’s outfit again!

I’ll be back for part 5 soon! Idk if it’ll be the last one but we are within less than an hour left of the movie!!!

#wicked #gelphie #gliyeraba #galinda upland #wicked 2024 #elphaba thropp #fiyero tigelaar #jonathan bailey #ariana grande #cynthia erivo

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kyseya · 2 days ago

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First of all, I recently came across your work (and it's amazing ✨) <3

I have a ask about the farm brothers following up the anon who asked about dogs.

Would the (hypothetical) dog eventually get used to reader being around and not necessary guard them off after a while? Or is this dog just trained to not care who it is unless it's one of the brothers?

(If you have anons I would love to be 🍏Anon!)

Hello, 🍏anon!

The (hypothetical) dogs would be trained hard to be capable and most important of all, loyal to the Callaghan brothers. There would be no use for them if they ran away forever at the single sign of life or treats. They need to be able to obey commands.

Despite the seemingly harsh way the brothers refer to the dogs, they care for these fur babies a lot. Call it tough love if you want. What if the dog runs into the barn where there are fangerous tools and maggot infested corpses? No way will the callaghans let their canines feast(or even be near) on such filth. This will not happen if the dogs know how to listen.

So now you have loyal dogs that keep watchful eyes on you with the help of their sensitive hearing and quick paws. Escape is not gonna be easy that’s for sure. However, if you have enough patience and put in energy, there is a chance you could win them over. They are only ordinary puppies after all. They can’t resist a desirable serving of treats forever. No one has that kind of willpower. Besides, if their masters have you in the house and not the barn then that means you have been accepted into the pack!

With a lot of head pats and even more treats you’ll be able to win these beasts over. After becoming family, the dogs would be more susceptible to your commands. Don’t think this means an easy escape though. You still have two beef cake farm boyfriends that will do anything to make sure you stay on the farm as their little darling. Besides, now that they love you, there is a big chance the dogs won’t ever leave you alone; the bribing might result in the opposite of the desired effect. Now they might disobey the Callaghans in order the sneak into bed with you to cuddle at night.

Too bad the brothers won’t let that slide. The dogs will be staying outside the bedroom. Hope you’re a heavy sleeper, the scratching on the door can be annoying.

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utopia-and-broken-cynics · 13 hours ago

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So. Since you've properly read Pinocchio now. What are your thoughts on how the book was adapted into Cedar and her dad in EAH

I need everyone to look me dead in my eyes, okay? I love Ever After High. I love Pinocchio.

No matter what I say later, you have to remember I love Ever After High, okay? Got that? Good.

That being said, Pinocchio and Cedar in EAH don’t really seem to be based on the book, as much as the Disney movie (I know, I know, booo and all that), in the way that most modern adaptations of Pinocchio are based on the Disney movie. Cultural phenomena and all that.

I would like to break down some points of Pinocchio, link them back to Ever After High, and then explain what this means to me later. Okay? Let’s go!

[Please note that I make points in the order they came to me and NOT in the order of how they reference each other. This isn’t a professional essay, and nobody is allowed to grade me. Also, this is purely from memory, so if I’m wrong, I’m wrong.]

What it means to be good (obedience, honesty, school/hard work)

The story of Pinocchio deals a lot with what it means to be good, a concept that does mostly carry over. Usually, good means honest, right?

Being good in the book means a lot of things. Pinocchio is often scolded and punished for being lazy, for being disobedient, and, yes, for being dishonest. He’s a complainer, he’s greedy, he wants to get rich fast without doing any of the work, and he loathes the idea of going to school. Classic little kid things, really.

School is the biggest one. As soon as Pinocchio is up and moving (and, y’know, after Geppetto gets out of prison— long story—), he is told he has to go to school. And he immediately, and I do mean immediately, skips. He sells his school book to go to a puppet show.

Later in the book, the reason the Blue Fairy plans to make Pinocchio human is because he did well and was diligent in school for a good part of the year.

Hard work is also a big one. After Pinocchio and Romeo get turned into donkeys, Pinocchio is sold to the circus, and is forced to do tricks and stuff to earn his food.

In the very end, to show he is good, and ultimately deserving of being real, he does hard work to earn money for his ailing father, and the Blue Fairy once he becomes aware of her being in a poor state. He grows from being an undeniably bad child, to being a good one.

Pinocchio lies to get out of trouble, more often than not. He lies to the Blue Fairy about being sick, about what happened with the Fox and Cat to get him hung from a tree, and about skipping school.

And eventually, he just. Stops. He must have figured it was more harm than it was worth.

Blue Fairy

The Blue Fairy is a pretty big part of the book, something not reflected in EAH.

She starts off in a little sister role, getting Pinocchio brought down from where he’s been hung from a tree. Then he gets out of jail (long story) and finds out she is dead.

Then she comes back, transitioning into a mother role as Geppetto has had an… unfortunate accident at sea. The Blue Fairy is a fairly forgiving figure in Pinocchio’s life, giving him numerous opportunities to prove he is good, and that he is worthy of being human.

The Blue Fairy is so so so patient with Pinocchio, and sometimes he doesn’t deserve it. And I love her for it.

All that being said, Farrah should have been way more important and involved in Cedar’s life, ESPECIALLY since Cedar has already lost a Blue Fairy.

Do you think I forgot?! Hell no! Did y’all forget that Cedar’s Blue Fairy went poof?

Considering how important the Blue Fairy is to Pinocchio (how they live together for a good while before the Donkey-ing, how quickly he mourns her), there is no doubt in my mind that Cedar’s Blue Fairy was very important to her.

We don’t know how she felt about the poofing, and we don’t know how their interactions went pre-poofing.

But this is about Farrah.

If Farrah is truly gonna take on the Blue Fairy role, they would have to do more than just say it. Let them hang out in the background, let them talk a couple of times.

I just think they should have been more of a Thing, y’know? The Blue Fairy is too important to the story for Farrah taking over to not be a Certified Big Deal.

Danger

According to my partner @the-lavender-creator and my good buddy @rarepairqueenmochi, the fox and the cat that appear in Darling’s horse’s tragic backstory would hang a child if it made them money. I would like to believe that it’s a point towards the fox and cat being very similar to their book counterparts.

Which means that maybe all the other super dangerous stuff that happens in Pinocchio could also happen in the Ever After High Universe. For example, Pinocchio almost gets battered and pan-fried at some point, could that happen in EAH?

What about the hanging? What about when the Black cat tries to stab Pinocchio? When he spends a little time drowning as a donkey?

I don’t know, and you don’t either. Moving on.

Pinocchio as a Character

Pinocchio starts off the story as a sort of gullible miscreant. He gets warned by numerous characters that “if you do this, things will go wrong” and he does it in spite of them. For goodness sake, he kills the Talking Cricket with a hammer because the cricket calls him an idiot for thinking he can lounge around and have fun all day. (The cricket kinda deserved it, tbf. Don’t call him an idiot. That’s a kid.)

Pinocchio is also (sort of) a sweet boy. He wants to do the right thing, but he also wants to do the easy thing, the fun thing.

Why go straight home to his father with five gold coins and go to school the next day like a good boy, when he can go with these two people he just met and make way more money really easily?

Why go home to the Blue Fairy when Romeo’s promising him endless fun?

What you have to remember is that during the story, Pinocchio is (to my knowledge) between the ages of 6 to 10, and it shows.

We don’t know a lot about Pinocchio in EAH, unfortunately. We know he was friends with King Charming and Goldilocks in high school, and that he’s notably a wooden boy still.

I don’t think teenagers can really go through the plot of Pinocchio (not saying that teenagers can’t make the decisions he does, just that they are older, more informed, and likely more cautious. It takes more effort to get a teenager to bury money in the hope that it’ll grow a tree, for example.), but that’s just me.

Cedar as Pinocchio

Cedar is not a gullible miscreant. Cedar loves her father too much to sentence him to two years in a stomach.

Cedar Wood wants more than ever to be human, and able to lie. I love her so much; she would never recover from going through book Pinocchio’s shenanigans. If we assume that the Legacy system will go through the same beats and lessons, despite prior personality and values, then she’s, quite frankly, fucked.

Cedar doesn’t need to learn the lessons book Pinocchio, or even Disney Pinocchio needed to learn, about honesty, hard work, and accountability.

Maybe she can learn about the divide between wisdom and age, which would lend itself well to the whole Rebel cause that Cedar aligns herself with. Being that she’s willing to call out Milton Grimm for lying, though, she probably doesn’t need to learn that one either.

—

Okay, now that I’ve gotten all of that out of my system, let’s talk about what that all means.

Nothing, really.

Ever After High, for better or worse, doesn’t dig into the fairytale theme as much as it could. This means that we never get a full picture of the exact version of the story most characters are being prodded towards. They mention that the stories have changed over time, but how.

Cedar and the story of Pinocchio are no exceptions. Many of the details can be inferred, but many are just hopeful guesses on my part.

However, while trying to tell a story about Legacy, they could have utilized elements of the story to add a little specificity to the nuances of Cedar advocating for choice.

It would make sense, given how the story of Pinocchio goes, that she wouldn’t want to go through with it, but she has to to get to the ending. The happy ending probably cancels out all the stuff she has to go through in everyone’s eyes, but it doesn’t to me.

Cedar will make choices that go directly against her personality, against her and her father’s wellbeings, and she will have to be okay with that when she becomes human. How does that make her feel as she heads towards her story? How does that make her feel as her friends choose not to follow their destinies? Does she decide to change how the story goes?

TLDR; it was adapted fine. I personally wish we had more Pinocchio themes and aspects referenced and mentioned by Cedar and her father, but considering how little Cedar is the main focus/a major character, I probably shouldn’t be picky. I’m just happy she was on screen/on the page.

#ever after high #pinocchio #ignore that this took literal months. I wanted to be normal. I think I succeeded :D #asking kay #there's something that could also be said about Raven/Romeo (Candle/Lampwick) parallels. but that's a different thing altogether

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