#my dog was my writing buddy

[kats-kradle]

Fandom: Atlantis: The Lost Empire (Disney Movies)

Relationship: Vincenzo "Vinny" Santorini & Milo Thatch

Characters: Vincenzo "Vinny" Santorini, Milo Thatch

Additional Tags: Missing Scene, Guilt, Friendship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Comfort, Milo Thatch Needs a Hug, Panic Attacks, Vinny is a Good Bro, Salt and Light

Summary:

When Vinny considered it, Milo was a lot like a bomb.

[lovesickeros]

☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 4 ]

{☆} characters arlecchino, furina, lyney {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood {☆} word count 3.7k {☆} previous [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ]

Fontaine was bathed in darkness, not even the moon daring to illuminate where the common man fears to walk. The streets were bleak and empty save for the constant, rhythmic ticking and clanking of machines marching on endlessly, dauntlessly wading where even the bravest dared not to venture. Not even the sharp click of the Gardes boots followed the occasional hisses of steam as they walked the barren streets.

It was haunting, and it'd been like that for days now. It showed little signs of stalling in the slightest, too. Every inch of Fontaine was practically crawling with Gardemeks– like a swarm of rats skittering about.

Arlecchino had secluded herself in the Hotel Bouffes d'ete for days at this point, waiting– biding her time. Her nails clicked against the wood as she tapped at the table in a stilted rhythm, the subtle click of the clock mixing into the clanking outside, weaving in and out of earshot as the patrols slipped by. She reached forward after a moment of thought, reaching for the white king.

She leaned back against the chaise, tilting her head just enough to catch a glimpse of a patrol of Gardemeks as they vanished behind the rows and rows of buildings. It wasn't enough to keep her attention for long, however, her features twisting in disinterest as she glanced back to the chessboard– and the letter neatly resting beside it. The seal was unmistakable and a sobering sight, demanding her attention– the soft hues of blue etched into the shape of a dragon stared back at her in a way that almost unsettled her.

She had already parsed through it's contents hundreds of times, but she was met with only vague, flowing script that only served to irritate her more then anything– it filled the page top to bottom yet managed to say nothing at all. Her hand reached out again, but instead of reaching for the letter she plucked the black rook from the board, setting it down with a soft click.

Arlecchino had all the time in the world to sit back and observe her prey, but all that time would be useless if she lacked the information to act.

And he was quite tight fisted about it, evidentially. None of her inquiries or attempts to decipher any potential codes in the letter left her empty handed. She could not act without even knowing the reason for his summons– it was almost worded like a personal affair rather then one would expect for a foreign diplomat. In truth, she'd expected a scalding report on her operatives, but it lacked any mention of anything of the sort.

She was no stranger to people masking hostility behind pretty words and compliments, not that it was ever unwarranted per se– the Fatui did not create connections through honesty and genuine kindness. They have strong armed more then their fair share of people into cooperation to the point distrust is all the Fatui are met with outside of Snezhnaya. Every word was meant to conceal the deceit, every action meant to conceal the price later paid.

So she had been..skeptical of the letter, to put it lightly. She doubted the Iudex of all people would offer a hand to the Fatui without a price attached– a trap, perhaps, meant to lure in the most powerful piece left on the board. Her eyes narrowed, reaching for a white rook and moving it to the right.

Or he was hiding something. Something that he simply couldn't risk getting out to anyone, not even the Divine themself. A tempting prize, whatever it was.

..A dangerous prize, too.

She'd considered burning the letter and forgetting it all together– the risk was great, and she couldn't risk getting caught up by whoever else the Iudex may have on his side of the board. But she could hardly pass up the challenge and the prize that he fought so hard to keep from prying eyes and ears. Even her agents came back empty handed each time. She lazily picked up a black rook, sliding the white pawn aside.

"Lyney," Arlecchino drawled, crossing one leg over the other and turning her gaze to the door as it slowly creaked open. The pale visage of Lyney stepped through, though his siblings were noticeably absent. The weariness that weighed down on his shoulders was apparent in the slightest furrow of his brows and the subtle creak of leather as he clenched his fists behind his back. "Father." He choked out, the title dragged out by the sharp inhale and shaky exhale.

He looked out of breath, she noted.

The silence that lingered after the small exchange was punctuated only by the click of another chess piece being moved. She sets aside the black rook, letting it sit among the dozen other pieces that had been wiped off the board. She can see the conviction glinting beneath the fog of exhaustion, but if he would utilize it was another matter all together.

He had seemed to make his choice quickly, at the very least.

"Our contacts and operatives within the Fortress of Meropide have gone silent– all we have is their final confirmed missive.." His voice is confident, but it is rigid as the words spill from his lips. He takes a sharp step forward, unfolding his arms from behind his back and opening his hands– the small, water stained and messily folded note catches her eye, plucking it from his palms with a half hearted interest. "They believe the Duke left the Fortress of Meropide..and that he may be coming to the Court of Fontaine."

Her eyes narrow dangerously, nearly crumpling the thin paper in her hands– yet just as quickly, she collects herself.

But she cannot get rid of the bitter taste on her tongue, lingering as she sets down the note and slides it to the side, her lips pursed into a thin line.

So the Iudex had shown one of his pieces..she tightly grasps a black rook, tipping over the white rook, letting it roll against the board.

If the Duke was involved, things were much more complicated then she expected– he would be a problem, she was certain. She couldn't blame the lamb for fearing the wolf, either. Whether her agents had been killed or captured by the man mattered little. He had his ways, and he was a force that could instill fear in even them.

Which meant the possibility that her operation was already compromised was far too real.

What had the Iudex so concerned he had gone through the trouble of bringing in the Duke and herself? The Fatui was one thing, but to specifically request one of it's Harbingers..

The Prophecy? The thought had her clenching her fist, but..no. If it were to rear it's head now, the Iudex could simply not afford to waste time on his contacts deciphering his nonsensical script– If the prophecy were to be the issue, there time would be limited to mere minutes in the worst of cases. Which meant it was worth biding his time in order to ensure absolute secrecy.

So if not the prophecy, then what?

Her next moves were..limited. She was already walking on eggshells considering her position and the reputations of the Fatui– especially with a Harbinger in the midst. If they caught wind of her operations, they'd weed out her operatives and be on guards for any snakes that lingered in their garden.

She reached for the chessboard again, picking up one of the white rooks from the board with a scowl. The sharp click as she sets down the white rook and sets aside the black pawn draws a shaky inhale from Lyney as she moves another black pawn, the dull click of the pieces drowning out the distant clinking of machines.

..A draw, perhaps.

The pieces were all falling into place– the players of this game were slowly being revealed. Whether she could secure her victory..she was unsure.

She wasn't even sure who her opponent was. Only that the Iudex himself was but another piece in their game.

Arlecchino reached for the board again, yet this time she hesitated. Perhaps she could still swipe the win from beneath them, if she played her cards right.

She would simply have to capture the king– or, if need be, let it end on a draw. Either way, she would not concede. She could not afford to concede. Down to the last piece, she would drag out this match until she was in a position to force their hand into the outcome she desired.

She stood slowly, picking up the king piece and observing it for only the briefest of moments before she set it down on the table, taking measured steps around the table and across the room. She was hunting a much more dangerous quarry today– it would be no simple runaway traitor this time.

"Do you remember the directive?" She inquired coldly, her hand lingering on the door for that long, tense moment. "..Yes, Father." Lyney faltered, taking a hesitant step back and bowing at the waist. "Then do not stray."

All that was left was the silence and click of the door shutting behind her as she disappeared down the hall, her boots clicking harshly against the floorboards. The rest of the agents knew better then to linger in her path as she stepped down into the lobby, adjusting the cuffs of her sleeves. She barely even acknowledged the Fatui agent standing at the ready by the heavyset doors, their gloves hands held out with her cloak held loosely in their palms. She quickly snagged it from them, tugging it over her board shoulders and clasping it around her throat.

With a quick tug, she brought the hood up over her head to conceal her sharp features, lifting her hand and placing a neatly folded note within their waiting hands. She had only one chance to make the right moves and secure her victory– no matter the cost.

Each piece had it's purpose.

Oft, that purpose was a bloody and horrible end– but for the grand goal of the Fatui built on the backs of the dead, it was an honor.

She didn't bother speaking a word as she dismissed them with a wave of her hand, pushing open the heavyset doors and stepping out into the barren, damp streets. The rhythmic clink and whir of Gardemeks was still distant– she needed to move. Her boots clicked and splashed in the rain soaked stone of the streets as she slithered between the buildings, ducking through the openings in the patrols.

It was almost too easy.

She tilted her head back, taking in the towering Palais Mermonia with a scowl, her hands clenched into fists. The final moves were being played– the king was within her reach, yet she felt no more confident then when she began.

The air carried a sense of unease, thick and heavy, filling her lungs until she felt her breath still in her chest– listening to the empty, bleak night that seemed so..quiet.

She'd done her fair share of research, had more then her fair share of her agents try to peer into the Iudex's office or the Archon's supposedly hidden chambers, but every attempt was a failure. She had to give them credit, they were quite elusive when they wished to be. Though now she only thought about it bitterly– this was all a risky gamble, in the end, and only time would tell if it paid off.

With minimal effort, she'd managed to pull herself to the flat, tiled roof, eyeing the massive tower peaking out of the center cautiously. At least here the wandering patrols down below weren't likely to notice her..she could hear them passing by the spot she'd been in only a few minutes ago, just beneath her. She pulled the hood further over her face, peering through the sheer darkness of the night for any oddities, but it was almost impossible to see in the dark.

Her boots clicked softly against the tiles as she approached the tower jutting out from the Palais, her hand gliding along the smooth stone, pressing against odd indents or crevices. If it was for the Archon's chambers, she doubted they made it very difficult– she'd only met the woman once, but she doubted the Iudex make it all that complex just from a brief glance. And it surprised her little when one of the stones sunk into the wall, gears whirring as the walls split open to reveal a stairwell straight into an inky black hall. Only the barest hint of light peaked under the door at the bottom, but it's occupants must have heard her, considering it went out not a moment later.

She cautiously stepped down into the small crevice, her breath visible in the bitter cold air– her shoulders tensed at the subtle sound of muffled footsteps behind the door, her vision flaring with a molten heat between her shoulder blades as she reached for the worn handle of the door. The heat of her vision was enough to just barely heat the metal, her vision flaring like a quickly building inferno.

Arlecchino was prepared for a fight, if it came down to it.

The door creaked as she pressed against it, shoving it open with a grunt of effort and surveying the room with narrowed eyes and a biting remark on the tip of her tongue– the lavish opulence was expected, she supposed, but the lack of the towering figure of the Iudex was not.

Yet before she could get a word in or even take in her surroundings properly, the light flickered back on and she had to squeeze her eyes shut with a hiss at the sudden brightness. She could hear the door being shoved closed behind her, the hurried footsteps retreating just as quickly as her eyes adjusted to the light.

..This was a joke, wasn't it? It had to be.

She'd expected the Iudex, perhaps even the Duke if she'd been unlucky, not the Hydro Archon. She had half the mind to test her worth as an Archon then and there, her temper flaring like an uncontrollable blaze, barely kept at bay. It took all her self control to force herself to smile politely at the woman rather then snarl.

"Miss Furina," She sneered beneath her hood, x shaped pupils locked onto the startled, trembling Archon with thinly veiled contempt. "What a..pleasant surprise. You'll have to forgive my manners, I assumed I was meeting with the Iudex." She observed her body language carefully– the way her eyes darted about like a frightened rabbit seeking escape, the slightest tremble of her lips..

Arlecchino opened her mouth to offer another scathing remark, but her jaw audibly clicked shut as her entire body seemed to lock up. Even her vision went cold against her back, a chilling feeling creeping up her spine as someone, or something, crept up behind her. Their footsteps were almost silent, the slight rustling of their clothes the only thing she could hear over her heart pounding against her ribcage.

Arlecchino had always prided herself on being on the other end of that sensation– she was the monster, and her target was the prey frozen like a deer between the hunters crosshair.

It was a chilling feeling to have the dynamic shifted on it's head.

She couldn't even swallow, her jaw clenched so hard she could hear it creak as she tried to reason with her quickly splintering mind– a futile effort, her joints locking up almost painfully. Black spots were quickly swallowing her vision from the lack of air in her lungs, the sound of shuffling behind her barely audible over the ringing in her ears.

For a moment – a moment too long to have only lasted the seconds that it did, yet so quick it gave her whiplash – she thought she would hit the floor dead before she could even glimpse her assailant.

And then it was gone. She came crashing back into reality with a startled inhale, her lungs burning and her knees nearly buckling under her. The instinct to lash out and kill whoever had done it was intense, yet she couldn't bring herself to move even a finger– it would be so easy to twist around and ignite them with searing flames, but her feet were rooted in place.

She almost didn't notice the surprisingly gentle hands unclasping her cloak, tugging it off her shoulders, if not for the sheer intensity of the presence still lingering behind her. Her mind was still fractured, struggling to right itself after the ordeal, and it had her seething.

"..Are you certain you held back enough?" Furina croaked, the normally soft lilt raspy and almost hoarse. "Not– not that I doubt your capability, most Divine!"

Arlecchino felt her nails dig harshly into her palms, heat swelling beneath her skin– Divine? Had she lost her mind? The Divine was..

The Divine was upon their throne where they belonged. She'd seen them!

"Hm. Well, maybe? Sorry, I didn't think it'd affect you too." Their voice was sickeningly soft as they stepped around her like she wasn't even there, focusing their attention on the Archon who seemed more then delighted about it. "What gave you that impression, most Divine? Aha, I..was completely unaffected, as you can see! Perfectly fine."

Furina let out a small squeak when they pinched her cheek, but the almost affectionate smile that tugged at their lips revealed the lack of malice behind the action.

"You're a bad liar, Furina. You might want to sit down..please?" They didn't take her protests for an answer, gently pushing her to sit on the bed before abruptly turning to face Arlecchino once more, a forced smile on their lips. "Oh, good, you're..uh, not dead. That's good. I thought I fried your brain. Sorry?"

..Had she hit her head on the way here? The Divine should still be on their throne, yet she couldn't shake the weight of their stare– it felt tangible. She felt like she was standing face to face with the stars– galaxies and constellations bearing down upon her.

She grit her teeth and clenched her hands until she felt the sting of her nails against her palms, grounding herself in the pain through the sheer overwhelming nature of their existence.

"You.." She croaks, reaching out with a shaky hand and grabbing them by the collar of their shirt, lifting them up until their feet left the floor– she pays no mind to the startled protests of the Archon. Arlecchino would crush her like a bug before she even got the chance to intervene and they both knew it. "You shouldn't exist– you aren't them, and yet you..you're the imposter, aren't you?" Her grip tightens yet they face her without an ounce of fear, meeting her unyielding glare with a pondering look.

Arlecchino wanted to make them bleed just to see if she could, the urge to sink her teeth into skin welling up in her chest to the point she visibly snarled, her mask of politeness long . "You're the imposter." Her expression falls for a moment before she schools it into one of apathy, setting them back down and holding them there for a moment, finally releasing them after a tense moment. "Or you were supposed to be."

Hers brows furrow– she wants to demand answers, to throttle them for damning them to being nothing more then dolls for the supposed Divine to break at their whim, but none of the words come to her.

"..Why now? The current Divine has been in power for years, yet you descend now?" Her shoulders tensed, lips pursed into a thin line– it's impossible to ignore the truth that lay before her. The Divine is a fraud and this..imposter is the true Divine. How many years had they been in power, now? How many years were they waiting? Why did they wait? Was the suffering of Teyvat not enough? Was the blood that painted the steps of their stolen throne not enough?

She'd personally been on the wrong end of the Divine's wrath– she wonders..had they watched? Had they seen the cruel hand of their imposter and turned their back on Teyvat?

"I.." They hesitated. It made her seethe, her hands clenching into fists at her sides– her vision flickered, flames swelling within it's casing just to be smothered by the presence of the Divine. But once that spark had been lit, she refused to let it go out. "I didn't know."

The answer does not satisfy her. There is an itch beneath her skin that she cannot scratch, a fire that burns in her chest so hot it scorches even herself.

"And what about now? Are you content to cower like prey in the safety of the Palais Mermonia?" She snapped, taking a step forward, her brows furrowed and her glare intense– she can see the slightest bit of worry in their eyes. She revels in it. "Will you let them use your acolytes like pawns? How many more need to be broken on the steps to your throne before you act?"

Again, her vision flares and dims– it refuses to be used against the Divine that created it.

"Have you no answer?"

The room is silent. They do not speak and neither does she.

Even the world itself seems to quiet in the face of her accusations, fury boiling to the surface so hot it incinerated all it touched.

"I will kill them myself."

Their words are quiet, but they are not soft– there is a vindictive, searing anger that explodes out like dying stars within their eyes. The sight of constellations replaced by a void that would not be . The smell of ichor grows stronger– to the point she feels almost lightheaded.

"..I am aware that I have failed in preventing this, but I had no choice in the matter. Still," They muse, their voice like the tolling of bells. A solemn melody that stills the swelling fury burning in her chest, if only for a moment. "I will rectify it– I will tear down their throne of lies and let not even the earth tarnish itself by burying their corpse among it's soil."

They pause for a moment, holding out their hand– scarred and bandaged by the weapons of the devout, yet still they take upon the burden of dirtying their hands to save those who did not save them.

"Do you trust me, Arlecchino?"

Did she?

"Will you help me?"

She exhales heavily, meeting the starry iris' of the Divine with a scowl still tugging at her lips. Arlecchino trusted no one but herself.

"..Yes."

[ohitslen]

Angry Vash for me and myself specifically

also extra Vashwood:

[fumifooms]

Raising my eyebrow

[monstermoviedean]

if you have a good vibe/kind thought to spare and could send it my way. i'd really appreciate it.

[wikiangela]

me, you, our kid and a dog

the dog fic is finally here! fluff, getting together, first kiss, reluctant dog dad Eddie, all three of them being adorable lol ❤️

words: 4.7k

[read on Ao3]

“You’re getting a dog?” Hen asks, piecing together the few sentences she’s heard. “As in… together? “Yeah.” Buck grins, opening his own locker as well “We’re not getting a dog. “But Eddie!” Buck almost whines, and, god, Eddie would give him anything he asked for, but he’s also stubborn, and he decided something already, he can’t just go back. Besides, does he really want to be stuck taking care of a pet on a rare occasion Buck’s at his loft? “Uh, you don’t even live together.” Hen notices, confused, a frown on her face. “Or have we missed something?” she and Chim exchange a look that Eddie doesn’t wanna look into. He’s already pretty sure he’s wearing his heart on his sleeve, and everyone knows how he feels, he doesn’t need confirmation. “No, but it just makes sense.”

______

It starts as a random remark on a sunny Sunday afternoon when the three of them are at the park. They’re just taking a walk, with the goal of getting ice-cream from the best ice-cream place in the city, according to both Buck and Chris – which is just an ice-cream stand in the middle of the park. 

There’s a lot of people around, strolling and talking just like them, or having picnics, or walking their dogs… and that last thing is what starts a conversation.

Because a big dog runs up to Buck – Eddie’s not even surprised at how every single breathing creature, human or otherwise, is just enamored with Buck, he’s used to it – and he stops to pet it with the brightest smile. Meanwhile, the owner, a young girl probably in her early twenties, catches up and apologizes profusely, saying that the dog tugged the leash out of her hand, and assures that it’s friendly and it’s safe to pet her – which is what Buck’s already doing, anyway.

“Hey, pretty.” he coos, crouching down, both hands petting the dog’s head, while it pants happily, tongue out. 

“Can I pet her, too?” Christopher asks, giving Eddie the most adorable pleading expression, and Eddie just can’t say no. 

“Of course. Just be careful.” Eddie says and watches as Chris walks closer to Buck, who holds one of his crutches to prevent it from falling, when Christopher hurries to pet the dog with the brightest smile. This close, the dog is almost at his height, and Eddie gets a little anxious, but doesn’t let his overprotectiveness take over. Buck’s right there, there’s nothing to worry about.

“She’s so soft.” Chris comments, and the dog licks his face, making him giggle.

They stand there for a long minute, before Eddie apologizes to the girl for keeping her there, and she laughs and says it’s okay. Chris tells the dog it was nice to meet her, and gazes after her wistfully, when the girl finally walks away.

“You really shouldn’t pet strangers’ dogs.” Eddie mutters to Buck once the girl is out of earshot.

“She said it’s fine.” Buck whispers back.

“Not before you already pet it.” Eddie gives him a look. “Just saying, you should be more careful.”

“Next time I will.” he rolls his eyes, as they start walking towards the ice-cream stand again, conversation picking up where they left off.

“I wish we had a dog.” Christopher says suddenly, interrupting Buck mid-sentence, and it surprises Eddie a bit. He’s never mentioned it before, and Eddie’s never thought about a pet, and he doesn’t know how to discourage him from that, or how to say no without breaking his son’s heart. Because there’s no way they’re getting a dog.

“Man, I always wanted a dog growing up.” Buck says wistfully, and, well, now Eddie’s screwed. “My parents never agreed, though.”

“We should get a dog together.” Christopher says, looking at Buck with a wide smile, and Eddie has to step in before they start planning and saying no will become even more heartbreaking.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Dad! Why?” Chris pouts and stops to look at Eddie with those eyes that make any ‘no’ almost impossible to pass his lips.

“Yeah, dad, why?” Buck joins in, and his pout is almost equally irresistible. Eddie is not in the strongest position here. If he wasn’t absolutely convinced of his decision already, he’d fold immediately. And he feels like if they keep talking about this, they might just change his mind. He won’t have this.

“I promise I’ll walk him and feed him, and Buck will help!” Chris says, now stopping and turning towards Eddie.

“Eddie, come on.” Buck shoves his arm lightly.

“You guys are serious? You actually want a dog?” Eddie looks between them, and they nod, matching pouts on their faces. Shit, he’s not gonna fall for it. “No.”

“But-”

“No.” he repeats firmly, his heart breaking a little at his son’s defeated expression. “We all know that you will take care of it for a minute, and then it’ll fall on me, at least when Buck’s not home.” he adds quietly, not missing how he accidentally made it sound like Buck’s living with them, realizing that he’d love that more than anything, but choosing to ignore this for now, because he doesn’t have time for an am-I-in-love-with-my-best-friend freak out again (they happen more frequently than he’d like to admit lately, and he thinks he has the answer already anyway). “Or probably on Carla when we’re at work.” he continues. “And she’s not getting paid to take care of a dog.”

“There’s dog sitters.” Buck murmurs, and Eddie shoots him a look. They’re not made of money, for god’s sake. But then he sees tears in Chris’ eyes, and almost relents. Almost.

“Listen, it’s a no for right now, alright? But let’s revisit this conversation when you’re a little older?” Eddie asks, and Chris immediately lights up.

“How old?” he asks, and Eddie shares a look with Buck. Then, he looks back at his ten-year-old, and answers:

“Thirteen.” because it seems like a reasonable age where he’ll be able to actually take care of a pet, and also, a lot can happen in three years, maybe he’d want a different, more low-maintenance pet. Eddie could do a goldfish, for example.

“Fine.” Christopher relents, and looks at Buck. “We can wait three years.”

“Yeah.” Buck responds, a soft and surprised smile on his face. Like he still doesn’t believe they want him in their lives permanently, and he’s not expecting them to make such long-term plans involving him. “We sure can.”

“Just, we’re clear that we’ll have the conversation then, right? Not that we’re actually getting a dog?” Eddie adds, not wanting them to get too excited. He knows Buck could just get a dog on his own, it’s not like he lives with them (sadly), though as far as Eddie remembers, pets aren’t allowed in his building. But even if he could, Eddie’s pretty sure they’d still make this decision together. He doesn’t know exactly when it happened, but their lives became so intertwined it should be scary. It’s not, though. Buck is his partner, at and outside of work. In almost all the ways Eddie wants him to be.

“Sure.” Buck says dismissively, with a chuckle, like he knows they already won. Eddie really doesn’t like when they team up against him, because that’s usually how it ends, with them winning. They’re his two biggest weaknesses, they have an advantage separately, and together? Eddie’s surprised he managed to say no right now. 

Then they continue their walk, Chris a little bit in front of them, starting a new topic, now wondering what ice-cream flavor he should get, while Buck throws his arm around Eddie’s shoulder, and Eddie feels like his whole body is burning. To anyone else they must look like a family, a couple and their kid. Eddie hates how comfortable he is with that, and how much he’d actually want that to be true. Maybe he’s coming to terms with his feelings for Buck, because now, thinking about wanting to hold his hand and kiss him, and spend the rest of their lives arguing about getting a dog while living together – it doesn’t make him freak out or panic. He feels settled. He’s smiling, and he’s content, and he wants countless more afternoons like this with his boys.

But for now, the dog conversation is over, for at least three years.

Or so Eddie thinks. And, boy, is he wrong.

Because from then on, the topic of dogs and pets is being brought up constantly over the next couple of weeks. 

Mostly small mentions, Buck and Christopher talking about the kind of dog they want – a breed wasn’t specified yet, but definitely a big one, which prompts Eddie to wonder how Chris wants to walk it without the dog pulling on the leash and tripping him. Not that there’s gonna be any dog, that’s not happening.

And then, after a few days, the conversation extends to outside of home, when Buck drives them to work – because he stayed over, like he does pretty frequently, sharing the bed with Eddie because he’s not gonna sleep on the couch – they’re best friends, it’s normal. Or so Eddie’s trying to convince himself to avoid freaking out.

The whole drive over, Buck’s trying to convince Eddie to change his mind, and is still talking about it as they’re walking into the locker room, where Hen and Chimney already are.

“-and you have a backyard, which is just perfect-” Buck continues, not even bothering to say hi to their friends.

“It’s not big.” Eddie points out, opening his locker.

“But it’s enough! And we can build a doghouse together, that’d be so much fun!” he says excitedly, and when Eddie looks at him and sees his sparkling eyes and that smile, he almost gives in. “And I’ll take care of it all the time, too, you know I will.”

“Buck.” Eddie tries to be stern and wants to shut it down for now. They’re at work.

“You’re getting a dog?” Hen asks, piecing together the few sentences she’s heard. “As in… together?”

“Yeah.” Buck grins, opening his own locker as well.

“We’re not getting a dog.”

“But Eddie!” Buck almost whines, and, god, Eddie would give him anything he asked for, but he’s also stubborn, and he decided something already, he can’t just go back. Besides, does he really want to be stuck taking care of a pet on a rare occasion Buck’s at his loft?

“Uh, you don’t even live together.” Hen notices, confused, a frown on her face. “Or have we missed something?” she and Chim exchange a look that Eddie doesn’t wanna look into. He’s already pretty sure he’s wearing his heart on his sleeve, and everyone knows how he feels, he doesn’t need confirmation.

“No, but it just makes sense.” Buck shrugs, taking off his t-shirt in one smooth motion, and Eddie pointedly does not look (he sees him out of the corner of his eye anyway, he can’t help it, peripheral vision exists, okay?). He doesn’t look until Buck puts his LAFD shirt on, and he’s safe to turn to him without the danger of blushing or his eyes lingering where they shouldn’t. He kind of hates realizing he’s attracted to his best friend, because it’s making things weird, at least in his head.

“How does it make sense exactly?” Chimney asks, something smug in his voice.

“It just does.” Buck says dismissively, and Eddie wonders if he’s as confused as Eddie as to what has been happening lately between them. “And Christopher wants nothing more than to get a dog. He said he doesn’t want any presents for his birthday or for Christmas, just a dog.” he adds, and Eddie’s heart breaks a little. Has he said that? Not to Eddie. But if he did… They’re so gonna break Eddie sooner or later. But, again, he’s stubborn (which is probably where Chris gets it from, honestly).

“We’re not getting a dog.” he repeats for what feels like a thousandth time. It’s like a new catchphrase, and he doesn’t like it.

“But Eddie.” Buck pouts, and Eddie tries, really tries, but is aware he’s doing a poor job at that, to conceal a fond smile. Buck is just so adorable, and Eddie is- well, he’s maybe-possibly-probably in love with him. But they’re at work, and their friends are listening, and he doesn’t need the input, and doesn’t need them to know how much closer he and Buck are than they realize – though it might be too late for that, to be honest.

“Let’s talk at home?” he finally sighs, and Buck grins triumphantly. And Eddie knows he’s gonna give in sooner or later.

Especially since, once he gets home, Chris and Buck join forces once again, and Eddie can only hold out on his own for so long. With even his partner against him, there’s not much he can do. His son has websites of some local shelters open on his laptop, as well as a whole PowerPoint presentation about why it’s a great idea to get a dog. Eddie doesn’t know when Buck and Chris made it, but they did, and now they sit Eddie down in the living room and make their case. 

And, well, obviously, Eddie’s heart is not made of stone. He sees the two most important people in his life be so passionate and excited about this, they already set their hearts on getting a dog, and Eddie’s been refusing long enough.

Once the presentation is over, he stands up from the couch, while his boys look at him expectantly and with so much hope, if he didn’t change his mind already, he would now.

“So? Can we get a dog?” Chris asks quietly. Eddie takes a deep breath.

“We need to set some rules first.” Eddie says, and cheers erupt. Before he can say anything more, he finds himself in a tight embrace by Buck and Chris, whom Buck lifted up into his arms, so they can both hug Eddie. They thank him, and are so happy, and Eddie knows he’s made a good decision.

He’s even more sure a minute later, when Buck, in all his joy and excitement, apparently forgets himself and kisses Eddie straight on the lips, just a sweet, chaste brush of lips, and when he realizes what he’s done, they both freeze. Meanwhile, Chris, still in Buck’s arms, has his arms around Eddie’s neck, and doesn't look at them. 

There’s fear in Buck’s eyes, and Eddie gets it, the fear over the possibility of ruining everything, he feels it every time he has the urge to do something dumb like kiss Buck. Which, well, happened. And Buck initiated it. So maybe nothing’s ruined, if Buck feels the same. Because why else would he kiss Eddie?

So, Eddie smiles, which quickly turns into a grin, and Buck looks relieved, and then he beams, when Eddie leans back in, capturing Buck’s lips in a short, soft, tender kiss. It feels like coming home, like everything is where it’s supposed to be. Somehow, Eddie thinks they’re on the same page, and they both know they’re on the same page. They will need to talk later, but for now, the silent communication and understanding they’ve always had is enough. 

“Ew.” they hear Chris groan, and they break the kiss with a laugh, both blushing. “At least put me down if you’re gonna make out.” he adds, and Eddie feels his cheeks get even warmer. He sees that Chris is smiling, though, and Eddie’s a little surprised, because it seems like he’s cool with him and Buck being… whatever they are now. Hopefully dating.

“Uh, here you go.” Buck mumbles, putting him back down, his face bright red. “So, a dog?” he asks, shyly looking at Eddie.

“When?” Chris immediately adds.

“Why don’t we drive down to the shelter tomorrow and have a look?” Eddie suggests. “But first, some rules.” he says sternly, not letting even Buck kissing him distract him, not completely, anyway. He can keep it together for a minute. “Every morning one of you walks it and feeds it. No dogs on the furniture, including the couch. It’ll get a bed in your room-” he points at Chris, who beams at him, “and that’s where it’ll sleep. It’s your responsibility.” he looks from Chris to Buck, they both nod. He’s also aware that most of any rules will get broken anyway, and that he’ll end up taking care of it, too, obviously, they all live under the same roof anyway. Well, not all… not yet. 

“Are we building a doghouse in the backyard?” Buck asks tentatively. 

“Dad, can we?” 

“Yes, of course we can.” Eddie smiles, because he already said yes, and he’s not sure he’d be able to say no to anything they both ask him right now. “But let’s get a dog first, and then we’ll worry about everything else, alright? We’ll get toys and bowls and all that tomorrow, too.” he adds, knowing that it’s another question from his son. And it’s just hitting him now that it’s happening. They’re getting a dog. What is he getting himself into… But first, there are more pressing issues. “Hey, why don’t you go call Carla and tell her, to prepare her for what she’ll have to deal with when she’s here next time, and I’ll just talk to Buck real quick?” Eddie adds, and Chris just nods, gives them both a knowing look, as if he was sure what it is they wanna talk about, and goes to his room.

Once they’re alone, Eddie looks at Buck, who’s looking everywhere but at Eddie. He’s nervous, as if he didn’t get enough confirmation already. Eddie grabs his hand and intertwines their fingers, and Buck’s wide eyes land on him.

“Relax.” Eddie chuckles. “I just felt like maybe we need to talk at least a little bit.”

“Yeah, uh, so that was-” he stops, as if not sure what to say next.

“Unexpected.” Eddie finishes for him, still smiling. “But very, very welcome.” he says just to reassure Buck that he’s not reading anything wrong (Eddie’s not sure how he could but, well, it’s Buck), and tugs at Buck’s hand to bring him closer. 

“Yeah?” his face lights up, and his eyes shine when they look into Eddie’s. 

“Yeah.” Eddie gets even closer, their faces inches apart, both their smiles widening, as Eddie links their lips again. But then he pulls away, because he did want to talk. Nothing goes according to plan today, but he’s not complaining. “I’m happy you kissed me, because I was starting to think I’d never be brave enough.” Eddie admits. “I was worried I’d ruin things if you didn’t feel the same.”

“Which is?” Buck raises an eyebrow, his smile turns teasing, and hopeful, and of course he already knows, but Eddie will gladly spell it out for him.

“I’m in love with you.” Eddie responds, looking into Buck’s eyes, and he feels so much lighter now that he said it. He’s been denying it, wondering, freaking out over it for so long, but now it comes as easy as breathing, and it just feels so right. “I think I have been for a long time. We’re a family already, but I want us to be a family in this sense, too.” he squeezes Buck’s hand, where he’s still holding it. “I love you so much, Buck.”

“I love you, too.” Buck’s smile is blinding. And Eddie can’t resist leaning in to kiss it. “I didn’t even think, it was so-”

“Normal?” Eddie finishes for him with a laugh. “Yeah. Like we’ve always done it.” Because that’s what it feels like when he kisses Buck right now. It’s amazing, yes, but there’s nothing really groundbreaking, it doesn’t feel new, even though it is, it’s the most natural thing in the world, kissing Buck, like Eddie’s been meant to do it. “And if you want, I’d love to do this for the rest of our lives.”

“Wow, that’s fast.” Buck jokes, kissing Eddie again. “We just kissed for the first time, slow down.”

“Uh, we’re getting a dog together.” Eddie pulls away further to give him a look, eyebrows raised. “And we’re co-parenting a kid together, have been for longer than either of us probably realize.” he adds, and sees Buck’s face melt at that. “We’re pretty far ahead already.”

“That’s true.” Buck chuckles. “I can’t believe this is happening.” he whispers, bringing his free hand up to Eddie’s cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you.” Eddie can’t resist a smile. He gets to say it now. He gets to kiss Buck, and hold his hand, and be with him. And maybe they started it a little backwards, but they’re them. They’ve been partners and co-parents for so long, and they know each other better than anyone else. So, Eddie doesn’t think anything would be too fast. Hell, they could get married tomorrow and he’s pretty sure no one would even bat an eye, it’d seem like the most natural thing. But maybe not just yet. Not that, at least, he’ll work up to it one day. However… “And, you know, parenting a kid together plus taking care of a dog together will be just so hard while living apart.” he adds teasingly, and sees Buck’s eyes widen.

“Yeah?” he breathes out.

“Yeah. Might make it much easier if you, I don’t know, maybe move in soon?” he asks, trying to act as nonchalantly as he can, but not quite succeeding, because he’s excited. He hasn’t been this giddy in a long time. And, to be honest, Buck’s already kind of living with them, it’d just make so much sense. More than getting a dog together while living apart, that’s for sure.

“You want me to move in?” Buck tries to smirk, but awe and surprise overtake his expression.

“If you do, yeah.” Eddie says decisively, because now that it’s happening, now that he knows for sure that he and Buck feel the same, everything slots into place, and he knows exactly what he wants. He wants Buck in his life, in his home, forever. “That not too fast for you?” he slowly leans in again, not able to resist those gorgeous lips a second longer, now that he got a taste.

“Actually, no. Seems perfect.” Buck responds, meeting Eddie’s lips halfway.

When they go to the shelter the next morning, Chris is excitedly talking about dog names, and everything they need to buy, and all the research he and Buck have been doing on training dogs to pee outside, and teach them tricks – it’s adorable how excited he is, and now Eddie has no idea why he was ever opposed. Buck and Eddie walk right next to him, holding hands, smiling at each other, as they listen to their son. 

______________

It takes maybe two weeks for the puppy to have Eddie wrapped around her little paw, any rules he made be damned. He’ll never admit it out loud, because he was the one refusing to get a dog in the first place, but she won him over completely. Buck and Chris tease him about it, and he pretends he has no idea what they’re talking about, which apparently they find really funny.

“Hey, I thought you said no dogs on the couch?” Buck asks, running his fingers through Eddie’s hair, as he walks around the couch to sit next to Eddie. Well, Eddie and their little puppy, Luna, who’s curled up next to him, her head on Eddie’s lap, and she’s soundly snoring as he absentmindedly pets her. Buck sits down on his other side, and puts an arm around Eddie.

“Did I?” Eddie mutters, looking down at the adorable dog, and wondering what he could have been thinking then. “I don’t recall.” he adds, and Buck laughs. Eddie immediately shushes him. “She’s asleep, shut up.”

“Wow.” Buck whispers and rolls his eyes. “And you didn’t even want her.”

“Shh.”

“You guys are inseparable now. This was supposed to be Christopher’s dog.” Buck notices with amusement, and he’s only half right. It is Chris’ dog. But she really likes Eddie, and what can he do about it? But they’re not inseparable. Eddie and Buck might be even more now, but not Eddie and the dog.

“She is. Yours and Chris’. She just sat next to me.” Eddie says, looking back at the TV that’s so quiet it’s barely audible. Buck and Chris have been obsessed with the dog since the moment they saw her, and she loves to play with them both, but for some reason, whenever Chris is not there, she ends up hanging out with Eddie more. Buck always jokes that she could sense who was skeptical towards her and made it her mission to change his mind. Maybe there’s something to it.

“And you woke up at four to walk her this morning. And two days ago.” Buck points out, having way too much fun with this. So maybe Eddie’s willingly walking her now after claiming that he won’t, because he’s not the one who wants a dog, so what? He’s allowed to change his mind… again. “And didn’t she sleep in our bed last night?”

“That’s irrelevant.” Eddie responds, not able to resist a smile. He still can’t believe it’s our bed, and our home, and our son, and our life… and our dog – as much as Eddie wants to deny it, she stole his heart, just like she did Buck’s and Chris’. He won’t say that, though. “Someone has to walk her when you two can’t, and she already woke me up.” he shrugs.

“Oh, of course.” Buck laughs and kisses his cheek. “So you guys are not best friends yet?”

“No.” Eddie responds immediately, but his hand is still petting the dog, and he involuntarily smiles when she blinks her eyes open. “Hi, look who finally woke up.” he says softly, and ignores Buck chuckling – or tries to, but it’s Buck, and his laugh is one of his favorite sounds. Luna turns over, demanding belly rubs, and Eddie obliges.

“I love you so much.” Buck says, and when Eddie looks up at him, he immediately meets his eyes, filled with so much affection, it still takes Eddie by surprise.

“I love you, too.” Eddie responds, and just the fact that he can say it now is still making him grin like an idiot. 

“More than the dog?” Buck teases, and Eddie rolls his eyes, while Buck laughs once again. “I’m not hearing a no.”

“You’re insufferable.” Eddie leans over and kisses Buck, just to shut him up. He laughs into the kiss, and Eddie can’t believe how much he loves him, his heart is overflowing with it. One of them deepens the kiss, and Eddie’s just about to suggest they make the best out of Chris still being at school, while they have a day off, but then a few insistent barks interrupt them, and Eddie realizes he stopped petting the dog when he and Buck started kissing. He pulls away, and smirks. “Look, she’s just as clingy as you.”

“And apparently she wants all your attention, like me.” he looks at Luna. “You know he’s mine, right?” he gets another bark in response, before she apparently gets bored of not getting attention, and jumps off the couch, going to the kitchen, where she has her bowls and some of her toys, and they installed a dog door on the back door, so she can go to the backyard, where Eddie, Buck and Chris build a doghouse and fenced off a little area for her. It’s been a fun project, Buck was right. “Ha! Now I have you all to myself.” Buck grins, and leans in again.

Much later that night, they all watch a movie together, Christopher sits in between them, the puppy on his lap, Buck and Eddie’s hands intertwined on the back of the couch, because now that they’re allowed to, they never stop touching for longer than necessary. Maybe they’re both a little clingy. Eddie kind of loves it.

He looks at his family, his wonderful son, and his incredible partner, who’s holding his hand and smiles softly at him over their son’s head, and the dog that, there’s no denying, brought them together. Maybe it’d happen one day anyway, it probably would, but they got here quicker because Christopher and Buck really wanted a dog. And now they live together, they have a family and a life, and a future together. Eddie thinks that giving in to all the pleading and getting a dog was the best decision he could’ve made, and he’s so grateful for it. 

He brings Buck’s hand closer and kisses his knuckles, just because. He’s just overwhelmed with how happy he is right now. He doesn’t think he’s ever been more content in his life. And when Chris groans and complains that they’re being gross and constantly making out (which they’re not… at least not with Chris present), they just laugh, and look at each other, and it’s perfect. Their family is perfect. Eddie wouldn’t change it for the world.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

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12 for 🩸:

---

Eddie can’t breathe.

He feels like he used to before he’d have a big, catastrophic panic attack. Like the world is spinning too fast around him and he’s about to overheat to a critical boiling point. 

“What does this mean, Eddie?” Maddie demands. “What is my brother doing?”

Eddie can’t move.

How does he know? How did he figure it out? Eddie was careful. He was so careful.

“Eddie?”

---

12 for ⚡:

---

Buck nods. “Okay. Right.”

Eddie smiles encouragingly, glad Buck can at least be plied with logic. If he won’t listen to Eddie, at least he’ll listen to Hen.

“So we just need to find somewhere that can accommodate the people first,” Bobby says. “And we have a solution for the food if all else fails.”

“We need to find it in three days,” Buck says. “Two, really.”

“Well, then let’s stop panicking and figure it out,” Hen instructs.

Buck nods compliantly. 

What the hell?

---

18 for 🧟:

---

They did…

Maddie twists to face Chris, wincing at the pain in her ribs. 

“Chris,” she says. “I totally get why you’re mad and upset. When my brother was your age, he got bit by a really big, scary dog and felt the exact same way you did.”

“A dog?” Chris sniffs. 

“Yep! It was like a husky crossed with something, and it was sort of crazy. Our neighbors bought it from a farm,” Maddie continues. “It was always barking. My dad hated it.”

Eddie would hate it, too. Though, he is a little confused where this is going. 

“The dog bit Evan,” Maddie continues. “It hopped the fence when we were walking to school. He was so mad, just like you are right now.”

“That’s scary,” Chris says. 

“It was,” Maddie agrees. “But you know what I told Evan?”

“What?” Chris asks. 

“I told him I felt bad for the dog,” Maddie explains. “Because it didn’t have anyone properly taking care of it and making it feel safe. Just like those lions. They used to live on a preserve where people made sure they were fed and healthy. Now their protectors are gone.”

---

18 for 🚨:

---

Buck takes a deep breath. He can do that. He thinks he can keep doing that. 

“Thank you, Bobby,” he says. “I really appreciate it. Uh, appreciate you, I mean.”

Bobby smiles at him. Kind and warm and full of understanding. 

“Anytime.”

v.

Chris comes home mid-summer. 

Eddie feels like a dislocated limb that’s been reset. His son is home. Things are right again. He wonders now, if the years of his twenties spent bouncing around, listless, were a result of that estrangement. Like despite his obliviousness, a part of him still knew and lacked and needed his child. It hurts his brain and his chest just to think about it. 

Chris seems happy to be home, too. Like Buck said, he never thought he was being abandoned or passed on. He missed them, and he wanted to be back, and some days he complained and gave Karen grief, but overall, he trusted they’d bring him home as soon as they could. 

Chim stays longer than Hen. Eddie is a little unsure of why. Yes, he doesn’t have little kids to get home to. But he talks all the time about how much he misses Maddie. Eddie isn’t sure why he doesn’t just go home when Hen does. At any rate, it takes him nearly a month after Hen leaves to finally feel safe enough to head back and be with his very pregnant girlfriend.

As summer comes to an end, wildfires break out across the country. Namely, Texas.

---

39 for 💐:

---

“I think I'd prefer doing anything with you than competing in classes.”

“Really?” May asks, voice a little breathy. An effect she didn’t intend for. “Because you’re pretty good at that.”

“What can I say?” April shrugs. “I was inspired.

May feels a sort of anticipation she’s never experienced before. Like something is going to happen and she doesn’t quite know what, but regardless, she’s desperate for it. Like the moment at the end of a drumroll, right before the big reveal. There’s a delicious sort of tension. One she can’t say she’s experienced before. With Darius, with every other guy she’s ever been out with, it felt like following a script. Everything felt like choreographed steps. This isn't that. This is like a story that she can’t put down. 

Maybe she’s just tipsy. Maybe she’s overreacting. Maybe Buck and Hen got her overexcited. Maybe she shouldn’t read into this at all.

Or maybe it’s a pretty big sign. 

Maybe May should let this anticipation guide her, just for right now, and see what happens. 

“I, uh…” May struggles to know what to say. She steps closer to April. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking these past few days.”

April nods, eyes sweeping over May’s face. She’s about two inches shorter than May, but stands with a sort of confidence that makes her seem tall.

“Maybe you should think a little bit less,” she whispers. Her eyes land on May’s lips.

Oh.

Well, sure. Okay. 

May’s brain can shut up for a second.

April closes the remaining distance between them, stands on her toes a little, and tilts her head up to kiss May. May thinks she knows what to expect, but she’s wrong. She thinks, lips are lips. It’s not true.

---

39 for ➰:

---

Buck wakes up at eight in the morning, right on the dot. It’s a small thing to notice, but he does. There’s a digital clock on the nightstand beside the big, king-sized hotel room bed, and the time is staring him in the face when he opens his eyes. Bold, square red letters. 8:00. 

Is it a little sad to say he congratulates himself on sleeping in?

As a teenager, and early in his twenties, Buck would have no problem letting the morning breeze by in a hazy sleep. He’d struggled, joining the SEALS, with the early wake up calls. Hated it. Hated waking up for something he didn’t like. Firefighting had sharpened him. Instead of being forced to wake up for something he was ill suited for, he chose to rise early for something he loved. And so his body retrained itself. He found it hard to make it to seven most days now. Even harder to stay lazy in bed once he was awake. 

Today, though? Today Buck has a reason to linger. 

He rolls over in bed, away from the bright red digital clock face, to where Eddie is still sleeping, arm slung over Buck’s waist. Facing him, Buck presses a kiss to his forehead. Eddie’s eyes flutter open. Two pools of sun-melted gold. 

“Good morning,” Buck whispers.

Eddie smiles. “Good morning, handsome.”

Buck feels his cheeks warm a little. That never gets old. How does that never get old? It’s like he’s hearing it for the very first time. 

“How did you sleep?” Buck asks. 

He’s keeping his voice low. They got adjoining hotel rooms for this mini-vacation they took up to Morro Bay. Christopher is still asleep on the other side of the connecting doors. 

Eddie blinks, like the question throws him for a loop. Then, his expression rights itself. 

“Good,” he answers. “Good. I always sleep well beside you. You know that.”

---

78 for 🦮:

---

He feels like the trust Eddie has put in him, in less than two years of knowing each other, has changed him. Fundamentally, it has changed him. 

“You don’t need to say anything. Just know that I trust you, and I know you handled today as best you could.” 

Buck exhales a bit shakily. 

“This whole time I haven’t missed you as much as I do right now,” Buck says. “I really wish you were here.”

“Me too.”  Eddie says gently. 

“Thank you.”

“For what?” 

“For everything, Eddie.”

“You’re the one doing everything for me. And my kid. Who, once again, almost murdered your dog.”

“Okay, well I don’t think she was going to die. I think I was just panicking.”

“Still.” 

Buck smiles crookedly. 

“Yeah, well… You know I’d do anything for both of you. Impending criminal poisoning charges aside.”

“I know. I do know that.” 

That night, Buck finds himself a little teary after he and Eddie hang up. Living in lockdown with Chris and Cranberry, adjusting to the new routine, might be getting easier. Apart from today, that is. But not seeing Eddie? Time doesn’t make that easier at all. 

x.

Cranberry heals just fine. In under a week, she’s back to her regular self. She bounces back quicker than Christopher, actually, whose guilt keeps him hesitant around her for days and days after the Tylenol incident. Buck has to encourage him tons. Once Cranberry is feeling fully better, her usual energy and affection help, too. It takes time, but they manage to put the whole thing behind them. 

They get Cranberry’s Intermediate Trick Dog title. Making her Tweed River’s Vodka Cranberry TKI. Basically a Master’s degree, if you ask Buck. He’s working on the next level - Advanced. Gotta get his girl her PhD. Eddie says he’s ridiculous for calling it that. Hen, in med school, says it’s insulting. Buck’s definitely not planning on stopping showering Cranberry with accolades any time soon. 

It’s summer. The heat is sweltering most of the day and it’s hard to train outside or even take Cranberry on decent walks if it’s not night or early morning. Training the more advanced tricks is coming along. Just slower. Which is how Buck finds himself outside before seven in the morning, working on position commands from a distance. Christopher neglected to join him in favor of sleep. Typical not-quite-preteen. 

It’s morning. It’s quiet. It’s relatively mild out. Buck feels at peace, working with his best girl. 

And then his phone rings. 

This is weird for the time. The fact that it’s not a workday. The fact that no text preceded it. Buck’s first thought is to worry that something must have happened to Maddie and her baby. Or that someone has Covid. Either way, he’s assuming he’s getting a call from the hospital. 

When he checks the caller ID, he sees it’s Eddie. Which is actually not comforting, because Eddie FaceTimes him. He always FaceTimes him. And not usually at this time of day. 

“Eddie?” Buck answers the call a little frantically. Okay, a lot frantically, clearly, because Cranberry races over to check on him. “What’s wrong?”

“What? Nothing’s wrong?” 

“Nothing? Then why are you calling me at quarter to seven in the morning on a Sunday?”

Eddie chuckles. “Well, you’re awake, aren’t you?”

“Yes, obviously.”

---

78 for 🔼:

---

“But, please. You don’t have to go out of your way to be nice to me. You don’t have to ask how I am. It’s really okay if you hate me.”

He gawks at her.

“Shannon, I-I don’t hate you!”

She gives him a dubious look.

“Really!” He protests. “First of all, I’m pretty bad at hating people. There’s, like, one person I really hate, and he’s dead anyway.”

Shannon remembers, suddenly, visiting Eddie in the hospital after his other friend had been stabbed. The person who had done it was Buck’s brother-in-law. His sister’s husband. Who she was trying to make her ex-husband. 

Right.

He has real villains to hate. Even dead ones. 

“Second of all!” Buck continues. “I don’t even know you!”

“You don’t,” she agrees quietly. 

“Third! Uh, third of all… You’re pretty important to some people I care about, so… Yeah.” Buck sighs. “I don’t know. I might not get your choices. But Eddie has made it pretty clear it’s not all your fault. It’s not my business, anyway.”

No. It isn’t. And yet, here he is anyway. The only person really talking to her right now, even if just in a physiotherapist’s waiting room. 

“Sorry,” she mutters. “I shouldn’t have assumed how you feel.”

“No,” he shrugs. “It’s fair. Honestly? When Eddie first said you weren’t around? I did judge you. But that’s a lot to do with my own shit, too.”

She tilts her head, curious.

“Your own shit?”

She shouldn’t ask. She really shouldn’t. And he shouldn’t answer. 

But he does.

“Yeah, my relationship with my parents is more or less nonexistent,” Buck explains. “They didn’t even come to visit when a fire engine fell on me. Called my sister to wish me well.” 

“I’m sorry,” Shannon says. “That doesn’t sound easy.”

He shrugs. Like it is what it is. Like it’s just life, and not their failure. God. She hopes when Chris is his age, he never feels that way about his relationship with her. No matter what state it’s in, she hopes he knows. She loves her son more than anything, even if she’s not always good at loving him.

“I don’t hate you,” Buck says again. “I swear.”

“Okay,” she says. Her eyes start to sting. “Thanks.”

Fuck.

It shouldn’t matter what this guy thinks of her. She doesn’t know him, either. He’s Eddie’s friend, not hers. But maybe there’s something to be said about the fact that Christopher thinks he hung the moon. Maybe there’s wisdom in the goodness she senses from him. Maybe caring isn’t so stupid. 

The threat of tears in her eyes becomes a reality. Face hot with embarrassment, Shannon wipes her eyes. 

“Sorry,” she mumbles. “I’m totally freaking out on you.”

“That’s okay,” he says. “Don’t worry about it, really.”

[recitedemise]

𝗠𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗼𝗳 𝗚𝗮𝗹𝗲'𝘀 𝘃𝘂𝗹𝗻𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗶𝗹𝗶𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗴𝗴𝗿𝗮𝘃𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗱𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗹𝗼𝗽 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘂𝗺𝗮 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗲𝘀, 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗠𝘆𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮 𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗲𝗽𝘁𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝗹𝗽𝗮𝗯𝗶𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝗿. This lengthy headcanon will refer to canon dialogue from mostly Gale, sometimes others. Reader's discretion is advised. There will be in depth explorations into grooming, emotional abuse, heavy manipulation, and suicide.

First, let it be said that Gale, a mortal man, will always be the powerless one in his dynamic with Mystra. Of course, nearing forty years of age, he remains entirely responsible for his own actions, his own blunders and every hurt he'll cause, but it's important to remember who formed much of who he is: his goddess, his deity, and egregiously, his lover.

Mystra is power. Mystra is possibility. She knows what sway she holds over her Ioyal, vulnerable, and entirely mortal followers. In all ways that matter, they are but lambs she can steer and herd as she sees fit. She knows they can't deny her and knows they'll never want to. Gale's sheer servitude and complete devotion. Mystra, knowing that, used him to filth.

Gale: I was just... practising an incantation. Player Character: No, there's more to it than that. I know devotion when I see it. Gale: What can I say? She's—she's Mystra. I can't describe it, the need I sometimes feel to see her - to draw the filaments of fantasy into existence... Mystra is all magic. And as far as I'm concerned, she is all creation. Player Character: I didn't realize the depth of your devotion. Gale: Magic is... my life. I've been touched with the Weave for as long as I can remember. There's nothing like it.

Gale, orb in his chest, doomed to be eaten by the very thing he loves the most, still speaks so reverently of the goddess, of his lover that has left him to die. He conjures images of her memory—and she is all the while forgetting about his.

Minsc: Gale reminds me of vremyonni of my homeland. The man-mages of Rasheman. While the girl-folk go on to rule as wychlaran, Weave-touched boys were hidden away. Trained to work their craft in silence and secrecy. It is an old custom, not well-observed. In truth, I thought it born of caution after some catastrophe of wizardly men-folk of old. Now, I wonder if it was not done to hide them from Mystra, and the snares she sets for young and prideful boys, hm?

Tales of Mystra's treachery spreads far, leaving those familiar waters surrounding Gale's tower in Waterdeep. They whisper her name, afraid to utter it one time too many, suspecting, perhaps, that she'll show in their mirror like some Faerûnian Bloody Mary.

Talent rouses Mystra. She can see who uses the gift of the Weave and feel them, sampling whatever delight sings their veins as they pull from her domain. Not unlike a spider, she'll follows every tremor that strikes her as just a sliver more profound; and Gale, a prodigy, plucked the Weave's web to so garner her focus. And like some black widow scurrying, she surged down that ripple to prey on a boy. There, Gale, so impressionable, was just a mite older than twelve whole summers. He sat so stunned, beholding Mystra as she lured him into the cradle of her Astral domain. Bathed in her magic, pleasantly coddled within that glittering cosmos, Gale felt blessed in a way he'll struggle always to recount, no word, no language, fit to describe it. He felt chosen. He felt seen. And potently, to a child, he felt loved. Now, imagine a child experiencing something like that. Imagine what they'd think, how brilliant they must be when stood beside the rest. She told him he was gifted, made his heart swell not unlike a child's appetite for praise. She knew what she was doing by offering these morsels, by preying on a child's most delicate mind, and Gale, child prodigy, was already so awash in the idea that his value was in magic. Unfortunately, Gale, susceptible, had no way of squirming out of his goddess' grasp.

Reality: She's laid down the seeds to creep into his heart. When he's just old enough—seventeen's sufficient, she thinks—she stakes her claim and makes him hers.

Gale: My virtuosic talent once caught the eye of the goddess of magic herself, Mystra, who named me her chosen and her lover.

Gale is stunned when she takes him to bed the first time. (Is this really happening?) Mystra claims his mouth in a kiss, taking everything she knows he offers so willingly. Mystra, of course, is not so stunned.

Dream Visitor: An elder brain... one of the cruelest and most powerful creatures in existence, enslaved by mere mortals. Gale, tasked with Mystra's missive to sacrifice himself: This is it... I must do as Mystra commands.

Gale has worryingly low self-esteem beyond his magic. As already explored, his entire worth as a man hinged on and was built entirely off his talent as a wizard. He fought tooth and nail for any crumb of affection Mystra would offer his way, something she only gave him at all seeing his gift as a child. He wants her forgiveness. He desires it genuinely. He believes so firmly that he has wronged his goddess, buying into the idea that sacrificing himself will right his wrong. She holds such dominion over him, making him reduce his confidence in himself into a mere, trifling pittance; after all, she wasn't just his lover, but the patron deity he prays to. And regardless, Gale is a people pleaser, his initial acceptance of her missive coming as no surprise.

After all, Gale, at times, goes to incredible lengths to appease his audience. This habit, compulsion, impulse, whatever you want to call it, is a quality that was relentlessly exacerbated in his relationship with his immortal paramour. He wanted to content her, felt all he did was never enough, for as a matter of principle, he was oceans, leagues, and entire galaxies beneath her. Gale figures: well, how can a short-lived dalliance satisfy a god? He had to make her happy. Indeed, he'd done everything she'd ask. He'd bedded her how she liked, kissed her how she wanted, and of course, even said those words she'd said tasted best. She was his lover, a lover that never tended to his own needs and pleasures, and he fooled himself into thinking that's enough. He won't bend backwards for everyone, mind you, but if you're of the ones he would, he would stop at nothing to make you happy. After all, people pleasing is a way to keep oneself safe, a trauma response to sidestep discomfort, and though it achieves only a direly tentative peace, when that is all you've been fed, you will pursue it.

Gale did not want to lose Mystra; he couldn't bare the sting of it. And so, when Elminster visited him, Mystra's call for his death offered oh so callously, Gale, heartbroken, felt that part of him kick up. He couldn't endure the guilt, was so hungry for a chance to let his weighty heart breathe, even if it meant dying in the process.

At least this way, he'll finally do something right. At least this way, Mystra will forgive him, and all his friends will survive.

Gale: After I was afflicted with my condition, I locked myself in my tower for an entire year. I was inconsolable, wallowing in my self-inflicted tragedy. I'd given up on myself.

As a byproduct of people pleasing, Gale, too, is all too quick to accept all guilt. He self-deprecates, gaslights himself to a venomous degree, and twists his reality in so cruel a way as to make him the villain Mystra'd led him to believe. He self-flagellates himself, the first one in the world who will throw Gale of Waterdeep a mental punishment. Mystra's a goddess, after all, seen as utterly faultless, and twined so tightly with a being so mighty in esteem, Gale slipped into the role of the guilty often. When tied with anyone with grandeur like this, so immeasurable in their own self worth, it's important to keep in mind this: you are nothing but a prop in which to fulfill their ego. Gale was not Mystra's, not by a long shot. Rather, Gale was a tool, simply her mortal extension.

And he took every blow meant for her... a common and terrible habit for many people in imbalanced, ego-fueled relationships.

Gale's life beyond her wasn't something that interested her. She took most of Gale's devotion, manipulated his life to be her sole mantle of attention, for Mystra is not a goddess that shares very happily.

Indeed, long before his self-imposed isolation, this jealous deity did well at keeping him isolated.

Player Character: Picture kissing him. With tenderness. Then, with passion. Gale: I... I didn't think— Narrator: You perceive quick-fire embarrassment, trepidation, and finally... elation.

And so, cheated out of love, so reduced in his value as a man and lover both, suffice to say, Gale's slow to believe he can ever be loved. That's what happens when you're with someone so cold, consistent only in their infinite lack of respect. Gale looks at fondness, and he feels—confounded, to be sure. He thinks, is this truly mine to have? He doesn't know what to do, is nearly forty in game, and despite having lived decades devoted to one relationship, he feels, at the same time, entirely out of depth. To be frank, he greets it with embarrassment, like he's been caught red handed with something not his at all. He's like a child caught rummaging with his hand in a cookie jar, all this isn't mine to enjoy, not mine to indulge in, but he thinks, startled, but god, do I want. He wars with disbelief, uncertainty, and need, and in so many ways feeling utterly starved, with just a glimmer of affection, he falls fast into love.

Scenario: (And if properly romanced, it changes his world.)

Gale: In her (Mystra's) likeness, I used to read a thousand stories. She was beauty, wisdom, elegance, power... she contained universes. But now... it is hard to see any redeeming qualities in a lover who condemned you to death. I'd much rather gaze into your eyes than hers. Yours are capable of tenderness and feeling... No god could ever compare.

He says it with sincerity. There is such wonder, such love, and such awe in his eyes. He makes the act of kissing him feel like you've just reached into the trenches to but pluck him soundly from his ruin and despair. You think, Gale Dekarios, how unloved have you been all this time?

Gale: To know you love me for the man I am, and not the magic I command… none have loved me so purely before.

The answer is: entirely.

For so long, Gale thought love was simply being chosen. He knew nothing of being favored for the quality of his character, to be cherished and accepted even in those ways he fumbles and lacks. Again, his needs were seldom met, often treated with utter indifference by Mystra herself, and to meet someone so eager to treasure him, dote on him in a way his heart, his body is somberly new to, raptures his spirit and captures his soul. He's seen for who he is. He's... loved, desired for his silly quips, his easy smiles, and his growing affections. He bares himself to them, and in turn, they cradle his heart like something entirely precious. Gale thinks this has to be dream. He says, at times, you are more than I deserve.

Scenario: (But sometimes, he hopes too strongly and loves too greatly. As it always does, then, like he's once more wanted too much, he watches something beautiful slip right through his fingers. Of course, Gale Dekarios. Of course it does.)

Player Character: I didn't know you felt so strongly, Gale. Gale: Perhaps I should have done more. Been more charming, more flattering, harder to reach... but I was only myself, and sometimes that isn't enough.

They don't love him anymore. It breaks his heart. He hurts so much, so profoundly and deeply, and he doesn't realize that he breaks their heart in turn.

Unable to ever voice his feelings with Mystra in any way that amounted to much, Gale's a tendency to wallow, expressions coming off as potentially 'guilt-tripping' and even, on occasion, passive aggressive. Firstly: Gale NEVER means to manipulate emotions, and he's no intention of twisting anyone's arm, either. Fact is, Gale, never taken seriously when he'd bared his vulnerabilities to the Mother of the Weave, can end up saying just a little too much. He feels very deeply, and for most his life, seldom had an outlet for these weeping sentiments. He sometimes lets slip raw words and oftentimes heart-wrenching expressions; all the same, it's not so pitiful as to shepherd an outcome, but rather, is a gesture taken by a man so desperate to be heard. It may feel like scheming, but the truth is far, far greyer: feeling as though he's no right to share the depth of his heart, Gale simply lets it geyser out in a way he can't cork up. In ways he doesn't realize, he's adapted to this ache, passively reacting so his feelings can at least be seen and recognized—no matter how pitifully unwhole. With someone who values so little his thoughts... well, when he slips into these moods, one can hardly feign shock.

Situation: (And if no one shows him trust and tenderness, any true care in his character or worth, Gale gets swallowed up by how wronged he was.

He thinks: Let me be a god. Let no one hurt like me anymore.)

Gale: They only want us to serve them, pray to them...and ultimately, to die for them. But what if we didn't need them? What if we wielded their power instead and helped ourselves in all the ways they refuse to? I could make that happen.

Gale is not above anger, and as stated, he is not above pettiness; however, more than that, he is not above righting himself whatever wound he was struck. Gale, if not offered much by ways of affection, understanding, is made to believe that one idea that's lived growing in his mind: Gale Dekarios is far from sufficient; he has to be more. He has to be better. Gale, in such an unkind ending for himself, sips too desperately—and perhaps greedily, too, but desperately serves as a far better word—at that idea that he needs power. And so, wresting the Crown of Karsus for himself, he spites Mystra in his own way, becoming a god he feels is leagues better than she will ever be. Damn her thoroughly. Damn her ego, her power, and her endless indifference. He will serve the people, protect them, and in ways Mystra never could, better the world.

Situation: But as a god, he loses all sense of his kindness. Humanity. All who loved him leave him, and even Tara spurns the image he's become. With power, he's gained the respect he thought he always wanted... but in turn, he lost in even greater measure all the love he's known.

Endnote: But healing, knowing to forgive himself and knowing he's deserving of care simply for being Gale Dekarios will remain, always, the best path for him.

[vanmarkus]

Wip Wednesday 🎄

I shared a small tidbit from this yesterday, but here's a little longer one this time 💕

Eddie was holding a bag of M&Ms in one hand while twisting garlands around the railings by the stairs with the other. They were putting up the Christmas decorations around the station during a lull and while Eddie was all for the Christmas spirit, the garlands didn't seem too keen on cooperating.

“Pass me one?” Buck walked up to him, both his arms tangled up in a big knot of Christmas lights and on the top of his head, pushing into his perfectly coiffed hair sat a frankly ridiculous hairband with a set of floppy white ears, decorated by big black blotches to resemble a dalmatian.

“What are you wearing?” Eddie frowned at the dog ear hanging down just beside his birthmark.

Buck looked up like he could see the top of his own head if he just tried hard enough. “Must’ve been left here from Halloween. Cute, right?”

"Sure."

Well, it was cute.

That still didn't explain why he felt the need to put it on, but Eddie had more important things to worry about, namely the damned garland that kept on slipping off of the railing and bunching up on the bottom.

“So, are you gonna give me one?” Buck tried again, eyeing the small bag of candy in Eddie’s hand.

“Ask nicely.” Eddie quipped, mainly just to be a little shit but as always, Buck was game.

He ducked his chin, jostling the dog ears on the top of his head and batted his eyelashes a little cartoonishly, then after an elongated whine of pretty please, he stuck his tongue out expectantly.

Eddie rolled his eyes and plopped a big green one onto Buck’s tongue. “Here.”

tags under the cut 💛

I was tagged by the lovely @jamespearce9-1-1 @daffi-990 and @malewifediaz mwuah mwuah 💛

✨and totally no pressure tagging: @spagheddiediaz @jeeyuns @ladydorian05 @disasterbuckdiaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @eowon @heartshapedvows @nmcggg @rainbow-nerdss @watchyourbuck @eddiebabygirldiaz @theotherbuckley @thewolvesof1998

[ro-botany]

Tell me about the first time Freddie truly met Chrom and Emmeryn and Lissa, when the new Exalt was a child and Chrom was tiny.

I got....... A little carried away with this one. Juuust a smidge.

:)

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Emerina | Emmeryn & Frederick, Chrom & Frederick (Fire Emblem) Characters: Frederick (Fire Emblem), Emerina | Emmeryn, Chrom (Fire Emblem) Additional Tags: Fluff, Pre-Canon, no beta we die like Chrom, i was seized by inspiration and wrote this entirely in a fugue state, hope it's entertaining, needed me some cute royal kiddos content Summary:

Frederick, a squire completely out of his element, meets the newly crowned Exalt Emmeryn. She's not at all what he expected. It doesn't take long for him to decide there's no one he'd rather fight for.

[bmpmp3]

dysgraphic artiƨts risɘ UP!!!!!

[lamortwrites]

I need. Another blog.

[beastsovrevelation]

You know how sometimes, you decide one thing, only for the characters to show you the middle finger, and do whatever they want?..

Happened to me. Again. Max (my Antichrist OC) and Crowley decided they want a story where they're together. Which is fine, I actually like the pairing. It seemed strange at first, since in most of my ideas, Crowley's Max's mother, stepmother or uncle, then I realized it's a stupid thing to let stop me, I mean... Max's mother in this would be Michael. Enough said.

Speaking of Ms. Sword of God, she's not happy. Not because Crowley's a demon, she's married to Satan himself (her own twin brother), she doesn't like that Crowley's a "traitor", and has no rank. Luckily, Max puts momma in her place, and Lucifer is supportive of the relationship. Michael will relent eventually, too.

All in all, I guess I'm adding another WIP to my ever-growing hoard. Though, for now, a coherent plot is yet to dawn on me. I mostly imagine random scenes. Some of them are rather funny, like when Nina tells Crowley that yes, his relationship with the woman he loves might indeed be decided by the impression he makes on a bird. Since, Max has a hunting falcon, and Crowley, being a snake, does not feel easy around raptors.

[iamthepulta]

Fandom Peeps to Get to Know Better

@kkoraki Thanks for tagging! :3 Oh my GOD I forgot how many Marguerite O'Henry books we read independently. Every time I think of horse breeds I think of Justin Morgan and King of the Wind; and Misty of Chincoteague lives in my head rent free.

3 Ships You Like: Hmm. I really don't ship anymore, other than OCs. Fallen London is kind of bereft of in-game ships; it's all OC/game chars. Harvestar's Sunless Skies Amelia/Driver is awesome though. Maybe Paul/Chani in honor of Dune 2 coming out? So many fucking problems with that ship, lol. Hm. Jesper/Wylan from Six of Crows 'cause I can't think of another ship.

First Ship Ever: Jenna/Balto from Balto. :') Actually no, if we're going REALLY far back, it would've been adult!Napoleon/Nancy from the Napoleon movie 1995 which was my FIRST FORAY INTO FANFIC and I started looking online for 'places to post stories'. God, I forgot about that. If I'd been older when I was into Call of the Wild I probably would've shipped Dave/Buck. Listen. I had a very active imagination and was trapped indoors with a bunch of books. What do you want from me?

Last Song You Heard: Eastward of Eden by Amelia Day on repeat.

Favorite Childhood Book: Call of the Wild got banned to the box because I read it so much. :') Otherwise: Girl with the Silver Eyes, by Willo Roberts.

Currently Reading: Hoping to pick up Neverwhere this week!

Currently Watching: Mashle (anime)

Currently Consuming: Large Earl Grey, hot

Currently Craving: Something for Dinner ((I am not picky))

Tagging: @harvestar, @ardenrosegarden Keeping it short but if anyone else would like to do it, please do!!

[gayeddieagenda]

im being so serious today. im going 2 finish unpacking my room and then im going to go buy lunch and write BUDDIE FANFICTION!!!!

[recurringwriter]

I am very intrigued by several of these. I am going to have to ask about "look at this photograph (every time i do, it makes me laugh)".

that's a wip currently sitting at exactly 2,222 words! i wrote it last november as a way to explore Rodina, who i'd recently unveiled for fe oc week. it takes place in the rockstar divorce eh-u setting, where rodrigue is a rockstar, and felix is a pop musician (the whole family is varying levels of celebrity), and mia has no idea so felix has to try and keep the secret because it's too awkward now that they've been together this long.

in look at this photograph (every time i do, it makes me laugh), Rodrigue is showing off baby pictures of Felix to Mia... while Rodina and Glenn look on.

a sample:

"He's very cute," Mia said, though she wasn't convinced. She wasn't much of a baby person, though. She didn't know if she could fawn over a baby. "He was so precious, with his little button nose," Rodina said. "Yeah he looked like a puppy," Glenn said. "One of those Chinese Crested dogs." "Glenn!" Rodina gasped. "A what?" Mia asked. Rodrigue frowned. "I've never heard of this." Glenn typed furiously on his phone, and then grinned. He left his chair and moved closer, holding it out so that they could see the picture of the ugly dog on his phone. It was hairless except for white wisps on its head and ears. "He did not!" Rodrigue said, offended. "Oh those dogs," Mia said. "I can't really see it." "He looked more like a kitten," Rodina observed. She offered her own phone, which was showing images of Sphinx kittens with narrow eyes and big ears, their faces wrinkled. Rodrigue's mouth opened and then he raised his eyebrows. "Well. Maybe a little."