#thanks firefighters for softball

[yikes-00]

JJ!! 💙💙💙

12. “I can’t believe you’re this innocent…” + Hangster for inexperienced smut prompts, please?

(And I can't believe you're doing this! 🔥💥😭)

Hope you're having a nice nice day 💕✨💖

Claude✨💕 thank you for being patient with me!!! I hope you enjoy!!

tags: firefighter au, public sex, rivals to lovers (im tired and tag better later)

rating: E

an: sorry for the mistakes im tired and will be finishing up editing this tomorrow along with the rest of the prompts. Peace and love✨💕

Jake grunts softly. His head falls back against the dugout wall as he tries to not thrust his hips into the tight grip around his cock. It’s dry and on the wrong side of too painful. He hisses quietly and shifts his weight trying to find something that soothes the heat burning through his veins. 

Bradley laughs softly. There’s an edge to it, almost condescending but not there yet. His large hand loosens just enough for pleasure to spark down Jake’s spine and pull in his groin. 

“Can’t believe you’re this innocent,” Bradley says in a rough voice. His breath ghosting over Jake’s skin as he swiped his thumb over Jake’s slit collecting the wetness pooling there. “Never been jerked off at a charity game?” 

Jake opens his eyes long enough to send him a withering look. 

“Fuck. Off.” 

Bradley smiles wide. His stupid smile shines as he shrugs. His hand working just enough to make Jake’s toes curl in his cleats. 

“Yeah?” Bradley asks. His voice light but there’s an edge to it. A hear that clings to his every breath. “Want me to drop your dick and leave you hanging?”

“Fuck. You,” Jake grunts. He reaches out and wraps his hand around Bradley’s neck and pulls him down. 

Their lips move messily together. Tongues and teeth devouring each other. Bradley grunts low in his chest and shifts his weight to better press against Jake. His hand still moving over Jake’s cock with a maddening slow pace. 

“Ever been fucked outside?” Bradley asks in a rough whisper. The low timber sends a shiver through Jake. 

His lip is raw where Bradley’s mustache has rubbed against. Jake shakes his head. Bradley leans back down and slides his tongue into Jake’s mouth. Jake moans. His fingers dig into the large expanse of Bradley’s back. 

“You gonna give it to me, big boy?” Jake asks as he pulls back. 

Bradley's smile turns wolfish. The dumb SDFD softball shirt is pulled tightly over his torso. The swell of his chest is outlined by the navy material and Jake wished he could see it. 

But it’s not like that between them. 

They blow off steam when it’s convenient or when the fire department and police force cross paths. It wasn’t easy when they first met. Both investigating a fire. They fought more than they fucked but Jake can’t think about that now. 

He should have known that it would end up like this when Bradley sauntered up to the mound with a shit eating grin on his face. Jake’s lip had curled up and Bradley smirked with a cocky batter up. 

“Yeah,” Bradley says before he slots their mouths together. His hand almost possessively curls around Jake’s neck to pull him in closer. The rough hand on Jake’s cock falls away and Jake whines at the loss. Bradley pulls back and his hazel eyes burn. “Yeah, I fucking am baby. Turn around.”

Jake doesn’t think about the name. It’s something that’s been slowly slipping out between Bradley’s lips. Sometimes when they’re tied together with Bradley’s cock so deep inside Jake that Jake doesn’t know where he ends and Bradley begins. But sometimes, more recently, it’s happening when they run into each other. When they’re both on duty and Javy and Nat share a glance. 

Jake turns. His hands plant on the rough brick as Bradley pulls down his shorts. The sound of a emergency lube packet tearing makes anticipation burn through Jake. 

The first touch of Bradley’s finger pulls a gasp from Jake. His eye flutter as he subtly pushes back. Bradley chuckles low in his throat and presses through the tight muscle. Jake moans softly. 

Bradley’s fingers always fill him up in a way that makes his toes curl. 

“How many you want?” Bradley asks. His lips press against the back of Jake’s neck. Something runs through. A warm feeling that has nothing to do with the arousal making Jakw burn all over. 

“Two,” Jake grunts out, “two and then give it to me.” 

Bradley’s lips curl up. His mustache drags up the back of Jake’s neck making sure that it’s going to burn. Jake lets his head fall forward giving Bradley more access. 

There’s no way to lie his way out of beard burn on his neck. 

“Think you can take me after only two?” Bradley whispers against Jake’s ear. His other hand reaches down and squeezes Jake’s ass. “I mean you can take a lot, baby, but only two?” 

“You worry about fucking,” Jake says through his pants. His voice breaks and he turns his head to look Bradley in the eyes. Jake slots their mouths together and slides his tongue into Bradley’s mouth. He sucks gently on Bradley’s tongue before pulling away. There’s a wrecked look on Bradley’s face and Jake preens. “And you let me worry about how much I can take.” 

Bradley’s brows raise. There’s a look of shock and awe on his face and Jake reaches back to drag his fingers over Bradley’s face. 

“Let's go, Bradshaw. Wrap up and get the party started.” 

Bradley’s smile widens. The two fingers slide out of Jake’s body. Jake shivers at the glide moving out of him and bites back the broken noise at the loss. The condom tears and Jake shifts his feet wider. He plants his hands firmly on the wall. Bradley’s hands fall away. Jake bows his head, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to focus on everything but the need clawing at him. 

He’s not going to last. He already knows this. From watching Bradley get sweaty playing softball to him messily pressing kisses against Jake’s face as he walks him back into the dugout, Jake’s been needing this. 

Bradley grips Jake’s hip as he positions himself at Jake’s entrance. His hand is sturdy and Jake hisses at the initial burn. 

Two fingers weren’t enough but Jake’s too wound up to care. 

“Need me to stop?” Bradley grunts out. His thumb drags soothingly against Jake’s hip. 

Jake shakes his head. “Nah, I got this.” 

Bradley chuckles. “I know you do, baby, I know you do.” 

Jake sets his weight and lets Bradley sink in. It’s tight, almost too tight. His body is trying to stop the large intrusion but Jake lets out sharp breaths forcing himself to relax. Bradley slides in. His words are soft against Jake but Jake doesn’t hear them. His mind is numb with the searing feeling of being filled and his legs shake. 

It’s perfect. 

Bradley bottoms out and Jake whimpers at the feeling of their bodies being locked together. Bradley’s chest against his back and hips pressing against Jake’s skin. Jake makes a low noise and Bradley shushes him gently. 

“Just a second, Jake,” Bradley says against his ear, “need a second, feel too good.” 

“Not gonna last,” Jake grunts and Bradley makes a low noise. 

“Yeah, I know I’m not,” Bradley says tightly, “but if you’d give me a second-“

“Not you, dumb ass,” Jake cuts him off, “me.”

Bradley moans. His hips try to jerk deeper but he’s already balls deep in Jake. 

“Fuck,” Bradley grunts out, “fuck, fuck, ok. Lets get it started. I’ll do better tonight.”

Jake’s moans low in his throat and his eyes roll back. 

“Let me get you off now,” Bradley continues. His hips now pulling out and thrusting shallowly into Jake’s body. “Take you home after the bar later. Lay you out, make it last then. Take my time with you. Feel every inch of you.” 

Jake moans. 

“Yeah?” Jake asks. Bradley’s body is moving rhythmically now, nice and hard with the single intent to get them off quickly. “Rush my first time outdoors just to bring me home?”

Bradley grunts. His hand tightens on Jake’s hip as he thrusts deep into Jake. 

“Can’t say shit like that,” Bradley pants, “can’t say shit like that when I’m balls deep in ya.” 

Jake moans. 

“Turns you on being a first?”

Bradley grunts roughly. His body moving roughly and Jake sinks forward arching his back. Bradley sinks deeper and they both moan. It’s too much, the slide of their bodies. Jake grunts as he reaches down and jerks himself roughly. 

“Yeah, touch yourself,” Bradley grunts out, “touch yourself and get yourself off. Show me how good you feel.”

Jake spills over with a broken noise. His cum splashes against the wall and his hand. Bradley thrusts in a few more times before he thrusts in and empties himself into the condom, buried deep in Jake. 

Jake lets his head bow forward and he sucks in a deep breath. Light kisses pepper his neck sending a shiver through him. 

“Pretty good for a first time?” Bradley asks. His breaths are still sharp but Jake can still hear a lingering insecurity in his words. 

“Best one I’ve had so far,” Jake grunts as he shifts his weight trying to get Bradley out of him.

Bradley’s lips turn into a smile and Jake sighs softly. 

“We need to get cleaned up before I arrest you for public indecency.”

Bradley barks out a laugh and pulls out and Jake doesn’t think about the empty feeling as he misses the warmth no longer pressing against him.

[guardian-angle22]

This week's theme is: rec a fanwork (fic, gifset, fanart, podfic - bonus points if you do multiple mediums) that made you feel warm and fuzzy inside (the 'feel good' fanwork). Tag @welcometololaland or #fic rec friday

Thank you for the tag, @ladytessa74

I love that this week is expanding into other kinds of works! This post is going to be very fucking link heavy as a result because I got a little excited😅 I'm also going to queue up a ton of these to reblog over this weekend (cause they're all too wonderful to only reblog once anyway).

911: Lone Star

Fanart

tarlos proposal (made pre-actual proposal) by @alwaysablossom

tarlos instagram au set by @revengeofthesiths

these stunning tarlos drawings by @reyeslonestar

grace ryder by @yorit1

brian michael smith/paul strickland by @mahanonu

softball TK by @dannylarryson

tarlos coffeeshop meet cute comic by @fitzherbertssmolder

Gifsets

the 126 in color by @ayan-sukkhapisit

firefighter paul strickland by @ayan-sukkhapisit

the 126 + tarot cards by @rafael-silva

the women of the 911ls by @rafael-silva

marjan rupi kaur set by @rafael-silva

paul set by @scullyblr

stunning tk/tarlos set by @ronenrubinstein

marjan 3x9/4x9 parallel set by tailoredshirt

paul strickland + trans flag colors by @genderqueerbuck

paul strickland + true colors by @floralbuckleys

Fics

With love, your soulmate by @chaotictarlos [soulmate AU]

Pure devotion by @mi1kc0ffee [kinky PWP themed: gag]

And We'll Only Be Making It Right & Now my heart is in your hands by @noxsoulmate [friends to lovers s1/2 AU]

Showing You my Love by @ramblingdisaster73 [soft, fluffy tarlos surprise date]

The Raven Cycle

Fanart

All Adam cared about was his autonomy by @eggpy

ronan lynch: good catholic boy by @polartss

the shopping cart scene by @rosiethorns88

Fics

while we're on the subject, could we change the subject now by @toast-the-unknowing [no supernatural, neighbors AU]

Steady All The Hands by sksai [no supernatural, single father!ronan & sex worker!adam AU]

Star Wars

Fanart

Lizzo & Grogu by @fionacreates

jedi!Finn by @furiousfinnstan

come as you are (anakin) by @02png

one of the most stunning things featuring that tattooine desert you'll ever see by @procoffeinating

Gifsets

leia set by @hayden-christensen

finn + maya angelou set by @momentofmemory

[iboatedhere]

“Now, everyone knows the navel, but the real star of the orange family is the cara cara,” Owen says as he gestures to the platter of perfectly sliced orange wedges on the table in front of him. “It’s sweet, and doesn’t have too many seeds….like a cross between a naval and a blood orange. Go ahead,” he says as he pushes the tray forward. “Take one. I brought plenty of extra since I’m betting they’re going to go quickly.”

TK rolls his eyes then smiles at one of Jonah’s teammates who shyly asks him for a bottle of organic, low sugar apple juice.

It’s his week to bring refreshments to the game, and he was happy for the help when his father offered, but so far, all Owen has been doing is flirting with mom’s over orange slices while TK fights for his life, trying to remember which kid is allergic to red dye #40 and who can’t have processed wheat products.

“I used to eat these all the time when I was growing up in Santa Monica,” Owen continues, “there used to be a tree in our backyard.”

“You’re from California?” One of the mother’s asks as she pushes her hair behind her ear.

Owen nods. “California, and then I moved to New York City….spent that first summer as a lifeguard in the Hamptons…it’s where I realized I wanted to be a firefighter, that that was my calling.”

“A lifeguard to a firefighter, you’ve been a hero your whole life.”

TK groans as his father puffs out his chest.

“Well,” Owen says, “I wouldn’t say that.”

“I would,” another woman says. “TK, you never mentioned how interesting your father was.”

“Yeah, he’s really interesting,” TK says, “I think the most interesting things about him are that he’s nearly sixty and he’s been divorced twice.”

The smiles slowly slip from their faces as they make their excuses to head back to the bleachers.

“Thanks a lot,” Owen says and TK rolls his eyes. “What? You’re the only one that’s allowed to find love at the little league game?”

“You are not finding love with those women.”

“You don’t know that.”

“No, dad, you misunderstood. You. Are not. Finding love. With those women.”

“Why not?”

“They’re too young for you.”

“They’re not that much younger.”

“I’m pretty sure at least two of them are younger than me.”

Owen looks like he’s about to argue before he presses his lips together into a thin line and winces.

“Yeah,” TK says.

“Well, anyway, this is still fun. We should really invite the 126 to come to a game. I’m surprised you haven’t already.”

“Jonah wouldn’t like that. They’d be loud and he doesn’t even like it when I cheer for him like that. Which reminds me, you have to be cool. Don’t go crazy, don’t storm the field if you don’t agree with a call.”

“I would never do that.”

“The softball game doesn’t ring a bell? I guess getting punched in the face might mess with your memory.”

“That was an AFD-APD softball game against adults, not a child’s game. Plus O’Brien was being a—.” He cuts himself off as a couple of kids run by the table. “Butthead.”

TK snorts. “Nice.”

“Maybe we could have a cookout or something once the season ends. I could fire up the grill, you can invite Carlos and his niece.”

“Yeah,” TK says quickly, “maybe, I don’t know.”

“You know they miss you, right? They ask me about you because you don’t always text back.”

“I’m busy, dad. There’s a six year old that lives with me that needs me. I can’t spend my day sending cat memes back and forth.”

“I don’t think they expect you to do that.”

“I see Judd, sometimes. And Grace. And Mateo when we come over to hang out with Buttercup.”

“Okay,” Owen says. “All right.”

“I miss them,” TK says. “But I don’t know how to be around them right now, not after what I did.”

“You didn’t do anything, TK.”

“What I almost did. What I was going to do. How can they trust me?”

“They love you, that grants you some grace.”

“That’s unprofessional.”

“We’re a family,” Owen says as he squeezes TK’s shoulder. “We’re bound to be a little unprofessional from time to time.”

TK nods. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good,” Owen says. “We’re all here for you. We’re all on your side.”

TK nods as Jo suddenly calls his name.

“TK!” She calls, limping up to him with Carlos following behind, holding the first aid kit. “TK I need you!”

“What happened?” TK asks as he gets to his feet.

“She fell off the bench,” Carlos says, “even after I warned her to get down because I knew that would happen.”

“Don’t be mean to me,” Jo says with a stomp of her good leg. “I’m hurt.”

“It’s a scraped knee,” Carlos tells her. “I could put a bandaid on it for you.”

“I want TK to do it. He’s the paramedic.”

“Can’t argue with that,” TK says as he helps Jo onto the chair he vacated, and takes the first aid kit from Carlos with a wink. “Let’s get you fixed up.”

[heartsywritesthethings]

BP: Bets Placed

A lil Fire Force fic done as a little Monday Madness with my good friend GA!Babe. Prompt: “Whoever loses gets tickled by _______ for five minutes.”

“Rookies! Get in here!”

Shinra, Arthur, and Tamaki all look up from their paperwork at the sound of Captain Obi’s booming voice. Confused, the all share a quick glance before getting up to follow instructions. Of course, the second Shinra and Arthur meet eyes, they’re sprinting to try to be the first out of the room and in front of Obi. Their nonstop competition nothing new to the members of the company, no one pays it too much mind when they’re shoving each other in the door frame. With the whole company now present, Obi smirks. “It’s that time of year again! The Annual Fire Force Charity Softball Tournament! And for the first time, we have enough members to field a team.”

Shinra tilts his head as he asks, “The Special Fire Force does a softball tournament? I get doing a charity, but why softball?”

“Softball was selected due to its founding being credited to fire stations present before the Great Cataclysm,” Hinawa supplies from beside the captain. “The game originated with fire companies, so it seemed appropriate.”

“Anyway, we thought it might be a good idea to practice some during down time. Not everyone at once since we need to be prepared if a call comes in. But a little practice for a few of us every now and again should help prepare us so we can make a decent showing for our time in the tournament. Plus, it’s good team building!”

With the announcement of their company taking part in the upcoming tournament, excitement and competitive energy filled the station over the following days. Groups of three would head out to the nearby park to work on batting, throwing, catching, fielding, and perhaps a little bit of trash talking. It seemed to be a good pastime for the company, and everyone seemed to be having fun with each other… well. Almost everyone.

Obi sighed dramatically, completely ignored by the arguing Shinra and Arthur. He’d brought the boys along for a little bp at the park and they hadn’t even started and the two were already at each other’s throats.

“Stupid knight! There’s no way you’re a better ball player than me. Neither of us have even played before, so what would you know?”

“Well, devil, it’s not hard for a knight to best a beast.”

“Oh yeah?! Well just you watch! I’m going to hit more balls than you!”

“I’m sure I will hit far more than you!”

“No, I will!”

“I will!”

“No, you won’t!”

“Yes, I will!”

“Arthur! Shinra!”

The two boys stop bickering and whip their heads to their captain, but don’t move away from their aggressive stances, ready to continue attacking each other’s throats. Glad to finally have the two rookies’ attention, Obi continues, “How about instead of yelling at each other about how many balls you’re gonna hit, we actually hit some? And we’ll keep track. I’ll give you each ten pitches. Get the most out of ten and you win, but we’ll do best two out of three rounds. Sound good?”

Arthur and Shinra turn to each other, eyeing up their opponent before they each give an affirmative nod. Arthur adds, “I should make you kneel before me after you lose. And have you complete all my paperwork.”

Shinra growls, “How ‘bout when you lose you get demoted to… to peasant! While doing my paperwork!”

“Hey now. This is supposed to be a fun little competition you two. Also, no one will be doing anyone else’s paperwork, that’s not allowed.”

The pout on Shinra’s face should not be allowed to be that adorable as he whines, “But Captain, I want something to happen when he loses.”

“Hey! It’ll be you who loses and is punished.”

These kids are going to be the death of him, Obi thinks with an exasperated smile. “Alright, how about this? Whoever loses gets tickled by the winner and me for five minutes. That way the winner also gets a prize for their victory and I get to have a little fun for getting roped into your little rivalry.”

Arthur smirks. “That would be acceptable.”

Shinra’s face tenses into his so-called devilish (adorable) nervous smile. “But that’s- I mean-“

“What? Scared you’ll lose, devil?”

Spurred on by the provoking the knight, Shinra swallows and shouts, “No! I can beat you! Easy! You’re on!”

Obi laughs at the two rookies. They certainly liven up the company and make everyday interesting. “Alright then, boys. Let’s play ball!”

Shinra manages a solid three hits in his first appearance at the plate. He found himself far too impatient to wait for the ball and kept swinging ahead of it. The swing alone was something he wasn’t used to. The nerves he was feeling at what would come if he was to lose was certainly not helping. Just the thought had him shifting his weight foot to foot anxiously and he couldn’t get his nervous smile to leave his face. But it was going to be fine, because there’s no way Arthur would win.

Arthur won the round with the first four pitches.

And proceeding to hit the following six lobbed balls of his round.

Obi couldn’t keep himself from laughing at Shinra’s dropped jaw and clear realization that he wouldn’t win this. Truthfully, it was a little unfair. Sure, neither of the two had played before, but Arthur’s entire fighting style and training revolved around swinging a stick to hit a moving target. Shinra didn’t really have a shot.

Arthur rests the bat against his shoulder as he looks back at Shinra. “You won’t win the next round, much less the next two, devil. Though the Knight King will get the last laugh, you’ll be the one laughing soon.”

Red spreads across Shinra’s cheeks and up his ears as he gulps; nervous smiling growing wider and wider. He’s screwed.

“Come on, Shinra. I’ve got at least ten more pitches for you. Make them count!”

His second at-bat—while better than the first—was not enough. While he’d gotten a bit more comfortable with repetition, this was still new to him and his head wasn’t in the game. As he watched Arthur get another hit to the grass, surpassing his own number of hits, Shinra fiddled with the hem of his sleeves, knowing what he was about to face.

Arthur’s final pitch for the round was the first one he completely missed, too eager to cash in on his victory. With the round won, Arthur immediately dropped his bat and ran straight for Shinra, tackling him to the ground. Shinra yelped as he hit the dirt, already giggling in nervous anticipation. “Wahahait!”

“I’m not even touching you, yet! By the agreed upon terms, you lost, devil. Not gonna go back out of a deal, are you?”

Shinra looks from the stupid smug look on the stupid smug knight’s face from his perch atop his body to the amused smirk of his captain looming over him. He whines as he squeezes his eyes shut and covers his red face and large face with his hands. “I’m not backing out. A hero doesn’t go back on his word!”

The loud shout about what a hero’s supposed to do gains a laugh from the captain, who squats down and pulls Shinra’s hands away from his face and over his head. Arthur nods sagely, “Though the knight king has bested the hero, that is noble of you, devil.”

His words are lost on Shinra who is tugging at his arms to try to hide his face. The tickling hasn’t even begun and he’s already flailing about. “Best not to keep the kid waiting, Arthur. You’ve got five minutes!”

With that, Arthur scratches Shinra’s ribs through the fabric of his civies. Shinra’s nervous anticipatory giggles quicken as Shinra laughs, squirming to get away from the sensation. The tugging of his arms gets more frantic as Arthur’s fingers spider higher and higher before settling under his arms and drilling into the hollows. Shinra shrieks as he kicks his legs frantically, trying to dislodge his assailant. “Aahaharthur! Obi thahat’s not- ah! Fahair! I cahan’t-“

Obi laughs at his subordinate’s plight, “Can’t what? Can’t take a little tickling? Can’t move your arms? Can’t wait for us to tickle you more? You know what I can help with that.”

Obi then lets go of Shinra’s arms—which immediately flail wildly and accidentally smack him across the face—and adds his own fingers to the mix, gently spidering around Shinra’s neck and ears. Shinra tosses his head side to side as the highest, softest, most precious giggles slip passed his lips as he tries to whine, “Nohoho!”

Laughing more boisterously than the ticklee on the ground, Obi comments, “I’m sorry, kid, you’re just too adorable.”

Arthur pulls back from one of Shinra’s flailing arms, only to have a jerking knee hit his back, as he complains, “You’re moving too much. We’ll have to change that.”

Before Obi can ask what the kid is talking about, Arthur flips around, situates himself on Shinra’s shins and starts lazily drawing shapes into his soles. Almost immediately, Shinra stops his flailing, laying near ramrod straight as a loud shriek leaves his mouth. His previous violent squirming and flailing has been reduced to twitches, head shakes, and Shinra’s hands gripping and smacking the grass below him interchangeably. While his struggling has decreased, his laughter has only gotten louder and more frantic, with a few pleas thrown into the mix.

As the time winds down, so do the tickling fingers. Arthur stands and looks down at Shinra, who’s curling into a ball on his side, still riding out the residual feeling and laughter. Obi gently ruffles the kids hair as he asks, “You alright there, kiddo?”

Shinra just nods. Arthur decides to further reassure the captain with his own answer, “He’s fine. He thinks it’s fun.”

Burying his face into his arms, Shinra just whines. It wouldn’t be heroic to lie.

Looking between the two rivals, Obi just wishes these two would admit that they’re friends. They’ll have plenty of time to get there as long as their part of his company. His family. Sol, these kids are gonna be the death of him.

[chicgeekgirl89]

You Have the Right to Remain Silent (But I Know You Won’t)

Fandom: 911 Lone Star

Characters: Carlos Reyes, T.K. Strand, Michelle Blake, Nancy Gillian, Tommy Vega, Judd Ryder, Mateo Chavez, Paul Strickland, Gabriel Reyes

Summary: Carlos’ friends have a penchant for getting arrested. And it’s making his life and his job very difficult.Or seven times Carlos has to deal with his friends as an officer and one time he's on the other side of things.

A/N: This came to me when we found out Marjan was going to be the second member of the 126 directly arrested by Carlos and I had to write it. @bluenet13 was beyond encouraging as usual. You have my eternal thanks my friend!

Read on AO3

Michelle

“Please don’t let it be Michelle, please don’t let it be Michelle,” Carlos muttered under his breath as he turned the cruiser around the corner of Pine and Brush Streets. But he knew, he already knew that it was definitely going to be Michelle. 

Again. 

For the third time this month.

Because who else would be egging this particular house at 10:00am on a Tuesday morning?

He cut the lights and sirens as he pulled to a stop, the last glimmer of hope he had extinguishing itself abruptly as he spotted familiar dark hair and perfect aim from years of playing on the department softball team. He couldn’t hear what she was yelling yet, but he was going to assume it involved a lot of profanity and colorfully explicit imagery.

He wasn’t wrong.

“You lying, scheming, son of a bitch! I know you know where she is! Come out here and talk to me you fuc—“

“Michelle!” Carlos bellowed sharply.

She turned, egg still poised to throw in her hand. “Oh, hey Carlos. I didn’t think you were on shift today.”

“I traded,” he said, and wow did he regret that decision now. “You really want to add assaulting an officer to the list?” he asked, nodding toward the egg.

She dropped it to her side. “He did it Carlos, I know he did. He knows where she is, and I just want to—I need to know.”

“Michelle, there is a restraining order,” Carlos reminded her. A fresh one too. She was going to be in big trouble for this. “And even if there wasn’t, you can’t egg somebody’s house.”

“I need to find her Carlos.” Her face was so devastated and he felt a wave of compassion wash over his annoyance.

“I know,” he said. “But this isn’t the way to do it.”

He pulled out his cuffs and she held out her hands. He hated that this had become such a familiar dance for them. “Do me a favor,” he said as he helped her into the back of the cruiser.

“Anything,” she said.

He put one hand on the door and paused before closing it. “Next time you decide to come over here, make sure I’m off duty first.”

T.K.

Carlos left the precinct at 9:00pm on the dot, a shocking turn of events. He almost never got off on time, especially not on a weekend. It had been a long day and he was looking forward to a quiet dinner followed by completely crashing in front of his TV.

Hearing T.K.’s story shouldn’t have done the number on him that it had, but here he was, heart all soft and mushy and hurting over the sad, puppy dog eyes the firefighter had given him an hour ago as he poured his heart out. What the heck was wrong with him? He’d never gone so completely head over heels for anyone before. In fact, he’d secretly shaken his head at friends who had told him about feelings like this. It was ridiculous. He needed to get his head on straight and a night at home seemed like just the way to do it.

Carlos stopped short as he spotted a familiar figure leaning against the building. His heart lurched and a dozen thoughts crossed his mind at once: Was T.K. okay? Had something happened? Did he have a concussion or some other kind of severe injury they’d missed? Was he waiting for Carlos?

T.K.’s face was illuminated by the lights inn front of the precinct. “You looking to get charged for loitering too?” Carlos asked, adjusting his bag on his shoulder as he walked closer.

“I called a cab, but they never showed. I don’t really have any friends here yet and I don’t really want to call my dad and explain,” T.K. said, shoving his hands in his pockets and shifting his weight uncomfortably. “I called another cab. It should be here soon.”

And Carlos knew before the words even left his mouth that he was about to do something that was possibly very stupid. “I’ll drive you.”

“No, that’s—it’s fine. The cab’ll be here any minute,” T.K. said quickly.

“I’m a really safe driver,” Carlos told him. “I’ve been in several high speed chases and never once wrecked the cruiser. No parking tickets. My record is impeccable really.”

That got him half a smile, breaking up the tension a little bit. “Come on,” he said, turning and assuming T.K. would follow. “You just told me your entire life story, one car ride won’t be so bad after that. I promise not to ask any probing questions or invite you to dinner.”

T.K. did follow and slid quietly into the passenger seat of his Camaro. “I really am sorry about dinner,” he said quietly. 

“You should be,” Carlos said, letting his tone stay light. “I’m an excellent chef.” He sent T.K. a friendly grin.

“Well, maybe you’ll invite me again sometime,” T.K. said, equally light, even though those simple words ratcheted up the electricity in the car by about ten notches. 

“Maybe I will,” Carlos said. “We’d have to be friends though, in order for me to do that.”

T.K. considered it for a minute. “I can do that. Be friends.”

“Great,” Carlos said, his heart fluttering around in his chest like a crazed butterfly. “That’s great. But listen, if we’re going to be friends, you have to do me a favor.”

“Okay…?”

“Stop getting arrested.”

Owen

Shit. Shit. SHIT. This was not happening. 

There was absolutely no way in hell that his father had just arrested his boyfriend’s father for arson. Carlos wasn’t religious, much to the sadness of his extended family, but right now he was praying to anyone who would listen that what he’d just heard from the front desk was wrong, and that some other Owen Strand had been brought in by the Rangers. 

He’d told Mitchell he would be right back and stolen away to a storage room where he’d pulled out his phone to dial his father, closing his eyes and taking several deep breaths. It would be fine. It was probably all some kind of misunderstanding. 

“Hello?”

“Dad, please tell me that you did not just arrest Owen Strand,” Carlos said, getting right to the point.

“Carlos, this is an ongoing investigation—“

“Dad, do not give me that bullshit right now, you know I can check the logs so just tell me. Tell me that you didn’t do this.”

“Son, I have to follow the evidence. And right now all the evidence is pointing to Owen. You were there the other night after dinner. You saw and heard what I did.”

Carlos closed his eyes and forced himself to keep breathing. “There is no way he did this. You know that.”

“I don’t know anything for sure. But trust me, I will get to the bottom of this. No one is above the law.”

“Well did you have to arrest him in broad daylight? Couldn’t you have just brought him in for questioning without the spectacle?”

“Carlos, I am doing my job. And you should get back to doing yours.”

“Dad—“

“I have to go son.”

“Dad!”

But his father had already hung up. Carlos let himself have a rare moment of anger, slamming his hand against the wall behind him so hard that a nearby shelf rattled. Damn it. What the hell was wrong with this fire station? Couldn’t they stay on the right side of the law? Or at least commit crimes when he wasn’t working?

He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. Someone was going to have to tell T.K., and it was probably better coming from him than some random officer. 

Shit. This was going to suck. 

Marjan

“Name?” Carlos asked as he logged into the booking computer.

Marjan raised her eyebrows at him. “Seriously Reyes?”

He inhaled slowly, trying to keep his calm, the way he had been for the last hour, from the moment that a call had come in for the 126 demolition site and he’d known it was going to be Marwani. Because he’d been trying very hard not to think about the fact that his ex-boyfriend’s (he winced internally, it still hurt to think the words) beloved firehouse was set to be demolished today. So of course the universe had him free and in the vicinity when the call came in. Of course.

“It’s procedure,” he said to Marjan, keeping his tone even and measured. “You know that. From the three other times you’ve been brought here in the last six months.”

“Was it only three?” Marjan asked in surprise, pausing to count on her fingers. “Oh yeah I guess so.” She shrugged. “Worth it from my perspective.”

“Well maybe you should try thinking about it from someone else’s perspective,” Carlos snapped. “Like the people who really need help that didn’t get it today because I was wasting my time with you instead.”

Marjan looked taken aback, but not cowed. “Wow Reyes. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

He shouldn’t have it in him. He prided himself on his even temperament. It was a huge part of what made him good at his job. But he hadn’t been sleeping and work had been busy and his heart was in complete shambles, which he was desperately trying to pretend wasn’t the case. But it was. He was a mess. A complete mess.

“Sorry,” he said as he continued to input her information. “It’s been a long day.”

“A long day or a long six months?” she asked.

The look he gave her finally had her backing off, even though it was clear she had more to say. “Step over here please,” he said, pointing toward the camera.

“Don’t you have other, less important people who usually do this kind of thing?” she asked, having the gall to actually primp for a second before taking her place on the marked x on the floor.

“Usually, yes. But I thought I would save you some of your dignity,” he said, setting up the camera. “Turn to the left.”

“I just can’t believe none of them showed up,” she said. “I’m trying to do the right thing here. Sometimes you have to fight for what’s right, you know?”

“And to the right,” Carlos said, trying to focus on the business at hand.

She deflated a bit. “I don’t know. Maybe we were never what I thought we were. Maybe they were always more important to me than I was to them.”

Carlos had to bite back a visible wince at those words, his heart squeezing inside of his chest, both for Marjan, and for himself. He knew what it felt like to be no longer important in someone’s life.

“Maybe I should give up,” she said, defeat in her shoulders. “Maybe there’s no hope for us after all.”

Carlos finished processing the photos. “I think,” he said quietly, “that there’s always hope. As long as someone keeps on fighting.”

She gave him a wan smile. “Thanks.”

He walked her to the holding cell.  “It was good to see you Carlos,” she said as he secured the door. “We’ve missed you.”

The smile was forced, but his response was genuine. “I’ve missed you guys too.”

Paul, Judd, Mateo

Bar brawls were so common during an Austin night shift that it was an odd night if you didn’t end up at at least one. From sports rivalries to women to “you looked at me wrong” it seemed like there was always something for Texans to fight over; tonight was no different.

Carlos was thankfully stationed in the bull pen, dealing with the drunk tank and the few misdemeanors that had come their way. When the call came in about a massive fight at Pour Choices he began shifting people around to make space. It sounded like they were going to be full up. 

Sure enough, by the time thirty minutes had passed there were fifteen people in the station, with more on the way. Some were almost too drunk to stand, others sober and talking loudly about the injustice of the situation.

None of this came as a surprise to Carlos, not until he came back from locking up several very drunk men to find three familiar faces being processed. “Whoa, what the hell happened to you guys?” he asked in shock.

Judd had a fat lip that was bleeding heavily and even more blood spattered down the front of his t-shirt,  Paul was sporting the beginnings of a painful looking black eye, and Mateo kept flexing his hand and wincing, although he appeared relatively unscathed otherwise.

“S’a bar brawl Carlos, what do you think happened?” Judd asked grouchily, swiping his knuckles across his lip to try and stop the bleeding.

“Yeah, but how did you three get involved?” Carlos asked, handing him a couple tissues.

“Whole bar got involved,” Paul said. “Once it got started we didn’t really have much choice.”

“It was either get pummeled or do the pummeling,” Mateo piped up. “We had to fight our way out.  I was taking ‘em down left and right, pop, pop,  pop!” He paused when he saw all their faces. “What? I’ve been working out. It’s just nice to see it pay off.”

Carlos shook his head and raised his eyes briefly to the ceiling. “And here I thought getting arrested was just a Strand family trait. Apparently it’s contagious.”

“We don’t need a lecture right now Carlos,” Judd groused.

“Oh, this isn’t a lecture. This is just me regretting the day I decided to hitch my wagon to the 126. A lecture is what Grace is going to give you when you get home,” Carlos told him.

Judd soured even more at those words and made a sort of grunting sound.

“Look,” Carlos said, “we’re pretty full in here tonight so they might be willing to cut you loose if I tell them who you are.” He hesitated. “Should I…call Grace to pick you up?”

“If you do that you might as well just bury my body out back right now ‘fore she gets the chance,” Judd said flatly.

“So…Captain Strand?”

They looked at each other and nodded. “The Captain it is then.” He stood and took another good look at the three of them. “Try not to get into any trouble while I’m gone.”

Nancy

He could hear the argument coming from the backyard before he could see what was going on. He’d been called in to deal with an altercation between a man and a paramedic, a slightly atypical call to be sure and not one he was particularly looking forward to. It was never fun to have to take in a fellow civil servant.

“I told you, you need to back off!” a familiar voice yelled as he approached the open gate on the side of the house.

“You let go of me right now!” a second voice roared back, full of rage.

The scene Carlos found when he stepped through the back gate wasn’t the strangest he’d ever seen, but it certainly was up there. “Nancy?” he asked incredulously.

“Hey Carlos!” she said in a way that was nearly cheery, a surprise given that she had an incredibly beefy man in a headlock.

“What—“ Carlos couldn’t quite figure out what to say. T.K. wasn’t on duty today, which meant Nancy shouldn’t be either. She must have picked up a shift from someone else.  

“Get her off me! I’m being assaulted!” the man yelled, struggling futilely against Nancy’s expert hold.

“What is going on here?” Carlos asked, eyes scanning the scene. 

The other two paramedics were kneeling halfway across the backyard next to a woman in a bathing suit. She was holding gauze against what appeared to be a bloody head wound.

“She is trying to kill me!” the man Nancy was holding onto yelled.

Nancy tightened her hold. “If you had just stayed out of our way and kept your mouth shut—“

“Get off me you bi—“

“Okay!” Carlos bellowed. “Let’s all just calm down and try to talk this out. Nance?” he gestured meaningfully and she rolled her eyes but released the man who stumbled away from her, rubbing his neck dramatically. 

“I want her arrested!” the man yelled.

“Sir, why don’t you just tell me what happened?” Carlos said.

“This bitch just put me in a headlock!” he roared. “She and her people came onto my property, this is America and I can say whatever I want to in my own damn home!” 

Carlos looked at Nancy who was straightening her uniform. She shrugged. “Joe, Carla and I got a call for his wife. This guy started making lewd comments about us so I put him in a headlock. Thought I would show him what women are really made of.”

“It’s assault!” the man yelled again. “It’s a free country, I can say what I want to!”

“Nancy,” Carlos sighed her name out with exasperation. 

“What? He deserved it.”

“Sir,” Carlos said. “I don’t think there’s any need to take this further. She’s here to help your wife, so why don’t we just—“

“Oh hell no! I’m pressing charges!” he yelled. “Lock her up and throw away the key! She’s a maniac!”

Carlos had a rather different opinion of who the maniac was in this situation, but he kept that to himself. “Nancy, did he at any point put his hands on you or physically assault you or anyone here?”

“Nope,” she popped the “p” for emphasis.

“Okay, did he threaten you or anyone else either verbally or physically?”

“Does he look like a threat to you?” Nancy asked with raised eyebrows.

Carlos sighed. “Then I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to place you under arrest for assault. I’ll take you down to the station and see if we can get this sorted out.”

“And Mr. Foul Mouth over here gets a free pass?” she asked with a snort.

“Unfortunately sexual harassment isn’t a crime unless it’s accompanied by a sexual act,” Carlos said, reluctantly, pulling out his cuffs. “Sir, you’re sure you want to do this? It’s going to be a very big waste of your time.”

“That woman nearly strangled me!”

“I’ll take that as a yes then,” Carlos said, gently putting the cuffs on Nancy’s wrists.

He helped her into the back of the cruiser and then glanced at her in the rearview mirror as he drove. “You know better than to let guys like that get to you,” he said.

She shrugged, unconcerned. “Maybe he’ll think twice the next time he starts talking about someone else’s ass in front of his wife.”

His words were clearly falling on deaf ears. She was the one with the right to remain silent, but it seemed like it was probably best if he did the same. 

Tommy

“Stop! Hey!” Carlos ran after the man as fast as he could, dodging other victims and medical supplies along the way.

He’d been helping with a mass hostage situation at a bank. It had ended abruptly when SWAT had breached the building, taking down the hostage taker and releasing two dozen victims. The detectives were overwhelmed with taking statements and a couple officers had been asked to help. Medical was around too, Carlos had given Tommy, Nancy, and T.K. a wave when he’d seen them come in about fifteen minutes ago.

He’d been speaking to a middle aged man when he’d noticed a discrepancy in his statement. He’d mentioned it casually and the man had immediately bolted, leaving Carlos completely stunned for half a second, and then running pell mell through the room as fast as he could.

“Stop!” he yelled again, knowing full well it wasn’t going to work. It never did.

He could see other officers getting up and joining the pursuit, but his suspect was closing in on the front doors, they weren’t going to make it to him in time.

A gurney came flying out of nowhere, slamming into the man and sending him crashing to the ground. 

Carlos jumped on top of him, pulling out his cuffs. “Stop struggling,” he ordered, forcing the man’s hands together and securing the cuffs in place.

Other officers came over and immediately hustled the man away, leaving Carlos to catch his breath and process the events of the last minute. “Good tackle,” a familiar voice said and he turned to see Tommy grinning at him.

“Was that you with the assist?” he asked.

She shrugged. “You looked like you could use a little help.”

“Thank you,” Carlos said gratefully. “If this whole paramedic thing doesn’t work out, you should consider a career in law enforcement.”

“I think I’m good where I am,”  she said, reaching for the gurney. “Not sure I’ve quite got the football tackle down like you do.”

“I have to say, it’s nice to have someone from the 126 help out with an arrest instead of being the one getting arrested,” Carlos said with a chuckle.

“Yeah that does sort of seem to be a common thing in our house, doesn’t it?” she asked, glancing over to where T.K. and Nancy were giving oxygen to a woman who’d taken in a fair amount of fumes from the smoke grenade SWAT had launched. “They’re a passionate bunch.”

“That they are,” he agreed. “But again, thank you for making my job easier, not harder today.”

She smiled and gave his shoulder a pat. “Any time Officer Reyes.”

Carlos

“I am telling you you’ve got the wrong guy. I’m a police officer!” Carlos insisted from the back seat of the cruiser he was currently imprisoned in. “I have never seen that woman before, I was just trying to help!”

“Right,” the young officer in the front seat said. “That’s what they all say.”

The events of the last twenty minutes were beyond imagination. Carlos had come around a corner downtown to find a woman struggling with her bags. He’d bent down to help her and the next thing he knew he was flat on the ground, face smashed into the concrete as Officer Hot Shot slapped cuffs on his wrists and told him he was under arrest. When Carlos had been pulled to his feet the woman was gone and all but one of the bags had gone with her. And when Officer Hot Shot had opened that remaining bag it just happened to hold several thousand dollars worth of expensive jewelry.

Carlos had tried telling the officer that he was also an officer, but it had fallen on deaf ears. 

The horror Carlos felt when they pulled up to his very own station was tantamount to jumping out of a plane without a parachute. He wasn’t sure how this was going to go down, but it was definitely going to be embarrassing. 

Officer Hot Shot dragged him inside with a bit of a swagger and more aggression than necessary considering Carlos was putting up zero fight despite wanting the floorboards to open up and swallow him.

The moment Carlos saw who was running the desk his heart sank. Orson Smith had been at the academy with him. He was a practical joker and a prankster and Carlos resigned himself to the fact that he was going to be absolutely no help.

“Buddy, listen to me,” Carlos tried one last time as they approached the desk, but Officer Hot Shot jerked his arm painfully. “Shut up idiot. One more word and I’ll make sure you never see anything but the inside of a cell for the rest of your life.”

“Whaddya got Richards?” Smith asked without looking up from his keyboard, finally giving a name to the officer who had nearly broken Carlos’ ribs with his tackle and was currently trying to wrench his arm from its socket.

“Jewelry store robbery,” Richards said proudly. “Caught him red handed with them.”

“Great, take him—“ Smith looked up and his face went blank as he took in Carlos who sent him a look of exasperation. His eyes flicked back to Richards. “This your first collar?”

“First solo collar,” Richards said. “Did a couple weeks with Officer Santiago and now I’m on my own.”

“Wow. Well. This is a big deal. A real big deal. Hey Matthews!” Smith waved over another officer Carlos had known for at least three years. “Look! The probie got his first collar.”

Matthews’ eyes widened as he took in the scene and he appeared to be trying not to laugh. “No kidding. Well that’s real impressive. So impressive, I think you should take him up to the sergeant. He looks mean this one, probably not his first offense. Sarge might want to be involved.”

“Guys—“ Carlos tried to speak.

“Hey!” Smith cut him off loudly, “I’m pretty sure I heard Officer Richards tell you not to talk.”

“Yeah listen to the officer, show some respect,” Matthews said with a grin. “Call the Sarge down Smith. He’ll definitely want to see this.”

It took all of two minutes for Sergeant Alvarez to appear in the doorway, stopping dead in his tracks at the sight in front of him. 

A crowd had gathered around the desk, all of whom knew Carlos and were clearly thrilled to be a part of what was about to go down.

“Probie,” Alvarez said slowly. “What is this?”

“First solo collar sir!” Richards said. “Jewelry thief!”

“Uh huh,” Alvarez said, eyeing everyone in the room. “Well, I hate to disappoint you, but this is not your first collar.”

Richards immediately looked confused. “What? No I took him down with a bag of jewelry.”

“You might have done. But he didn’t steal it.” The Sergeant inclined his head toward Carlos. “That’s APD Officer Carlos Reyes you’ve got in cuffs there. Been working out of this station since he joined up. And there’s no way he stole a bag of jewelry, so you might want to take those cuffs off before you end up looking like even more of an idiot.”

The blood drained from Richards’ face and he turned to look at Carlos, eyes filling with panic. Carlos shrugged. “I tried to tell you.”

“Oh my god, I—I’m so sorry,” he said, fumbling for the cuff keys.

“Wait, just,” Smith leaned over with his cellphone and snapped a quick picture. “Perfect. Thanks so much.”

“I’ll uh, I’ll still need to take your statement,” Richards said, clearly trying to save face as Carlos rubbed at his chafed wrists. “About the uh, the woman.”

“I’ll take care of that,” Alvarez said. “You should go start looking through the classifieds. See if there are any jobs out there accepting complete morons.”

T.K. was sitting on a barstool in the kitchen when Carlos came home from a run that was supposed to help him shake off the hell of a day he’d been through. Unfortunately it hadn’t worked in the slightest.  “Hey,” he said breathlessly, slipping off his shoes. “How was your shift?”

T.K. turned around, his trademark smirk firmly on his face. Carlos groaned. “You know. Oh god, how do you know?”

“Ran into Matthews on a call,” T.K. told him happily. “He mentioned you had an interesting day.”

Carlos shut his eyes for a moment, trying to breathe deeply. “So Tommy and Nancy know too?”

“Oh babe, if Nancy knows the whole firehouse knows,” T.K. told him.

Carlos sank down onto the couch in defeat. “This is literally the most humiliating thing that has ever happened to me, including the time Wayne Radetsky pantsed me in front of the entire eighth grade.”

T.K. got up and joined him, running a hand soothingly over his back. “It’s sweet. You stopping to help a little old lady. Her turning out to be a jewel thief. You taking the fall for it.” He kissed the side of Carlos’ head, unbothered by his sweaty curls. “I will come and visit you every week in jail.”

“This is not funny. Do you know what’s going to happen when my mom finds out? And my dad? Oh my god.” Carlos buried his face in his hands. “I have to quit. We have to move.”

“You are moving. To the big house.” T.K. was barely suppressing his laughter at his own jokes.

Carlos stood abruptly without looking at him. “I’m going to take a shower. Do not join me.”

“This isn’t as big of a deal as you think it is!” T.K. called after him. “Basically the entire 126 has been arrested by now!”

“Yeah I know!” Carlos yelled back, as he stalked toward the bedroom. “And I did not have a desire to be a part of that family bonding experience!”

T.K. leaned forward on the couch.  “I’ll bake you a cake with a file in it when I come for our first conjugal visit!”

All that came from the master bath was a great deal of swearing in Spanish. 

[angstyjellybean]

9-1-1 Lonestar “Red Vs Blue”

✨spoilers✨

Oh this cunt…

No one is in your side sir literally no one

Oof first tooth rough

Is this man at her desk?

I thought everyone had assigned desks

I don’t hate him but I don’t like how he’s making Grace feel

My baby boy Carlos

Most police probably don’t like firefighters because people like firefighters

A slide immediately makes me think of big time rush

He ate her food….

YOU DONT TOUCH FOOD YOU DONT BRING

Oh this dick…

So you’re good with letting people possibly die because of you?

Property damage

His dad is trying to kill him oh lord

Poor baby

Careful Duncan oh god

You may need to defend yourself Duncan…

Thank god for overnight man

Im getting emotional oh no

YES THE SOFTBALL HE K YEA

The collective groan lmao

She is not fully listening

The looks Judd gives his wife mmm

Yes you may have gotten there on your own but Duncan could’ve been dead

I love this family so much

Cocky son of a bitch

Ooo Tommy suggesting cheating

Who is this man? I don’t remember him

Oof that’s a bit high YOU DONT NEED THIS MAN

Stop smack talking when you make it awkward

Let’s go firefam

Carlos trying to be lowkey in the stands

Is this from the muppets or is it from something else originally?

I hope the cocky fuck pills something

She’s gonna pass out

I feel like I’ve seen this before

CHEATERS

Let’s go Pearce you arrogant sob

Swing batter swing

They all got magically better with him there I love it

I love this song

I swear if anyone does any illegal ass throws

LETS GO NANCY BABY YOU GOT THIS

YEEEESSSSSSSSS

Carlos being a supporting babe

FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT

Hand rates E for Everyone

You know damn well you’re not ashamed

What is this about cause apparently he knows but I have no idea

Ohhh sewer attempt

Is that grace i see peeking in the back

Im gonna cry

It was grace looking

Poor Dave god

Preach Dave Preach

Heart attack?

Please let both of these work oh shit

NANCY

Me and grace exhaled at the same time

The cops stuck inside?

They’re all high duh

Oh just the douche cop dang

I thought we’d at least have some struggle

How sweet

I love Marjan sm

Judd just always looks ready to back up his captain and fight and I love it

I don’t know why Dave sounds and seems so familiar

We he having a fib? HE FIBBER. He saved a life

THE TARLOS APARTMENT YES

I love this family so much

What’s wrong? What’s happening?

GWENS DEAD WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED

WHY ARE WE RUINING EVERYTHING HAPPY

[freakwiththeknifecollection]

You have OC chestervelle kids!!!! I have to know more!

Rose and lily from the flower oc asks please:)

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING!!! tagging @joharvelles-roadhouse because she asked me about them too!!

Without going into too much detail because I could easily make this post pages long (feel free to ask any and all follow-up questions you have though!!) Okay so:

Jordyn Avery Winchester

some picrews I've made of her!

The oldest

Dark brown hair, light green eyes, freckles, a spitting image of her mother except her face/jaw is a little wider. Linda Cardellini is the perfect face claim for her. But when she was little, her hair was blonde like Dean's was and darkened over time to Jo's natural color.

Sassy, independent, stubborn, and a very good older sister to her siblings. Generally very chill, but WILL throw hands for her siblings. Daddy's girl 100%. She's very similar to Jo, which is why I think she gets along with Dean so well and tends to butt heads with Jo sometimes in her teens.

Her favorite color is purple, she loves dogs, and she likes reading, video games, and sketching. As far as other hobbies go, I'm not sure yet!

She plays either volleyball or softball in middle-high school, I haven't decided yet

She's not a girly girl by any means. She is a bit when she's little; she'd wear a little tulle skirts and bows in her hair but not without a band t-shirt/flannel and sneakers

Her music taste varies from classic rock to 90's alternative

Alexander William Winchester (I have a side headcanon that Dean's middle name is Alexander, just cause I think it sounds good! So that's where their son's name comes from. Then his middle name is after Jo's father, of course)

4 years younger than Jordyn

Dark brown hair, brown eyes, freckles; he looks just like his dad

Sarcastic, playful, mischievous, impulsive. Violence IS an answer, actually. He's not just needlessly violent, but he does live by a "talk shit, get hit" policy and has no tolerance for bullies

His favorite color is red and he likes video games. He and Jordyn play together often and it always gets competitive. As for other hobbies, I'm not sure yet either lol!

He plays football as a kid and then all through high school

When he's little he goes through a firefighter phase, followed by a dinosaur phase

Morgan Joanna Winchester (the newest addition to my little family so I'm unsure about a lot of things)

She's 2 years younger than Alex. So she's 6 years younger than Jordyn

Her hair is darker than Jordyn's was when she's little, but not brown either. Between blonde and Dean's hair color. Brown eyes and freckles, too!

She's very sweet but has mischievous tendencies, usually Alex is involved lmao. Partners in crime

LOVES unicorns, rainbows, princesses, and the color pink. The poster child for girly girls everywhere. Which I think is a bit of a learning curve for Jo, she's never really gotten along with girly girls and has never had one before, but they make it work!

Dean plays princesses and has tea parties with her all the time. That has nothing to do with who Morgan is as a person, but I think everyone should know that

Jordyn and Morgan share a room until Jordyn's about 16, (so when Morgan's 8) when she really just needs her own space. Dean clears out and fixes up the attic and makes it into a room for Jordyn

Last but not least,

Henry Oliver Winchester (Jo liked the name and it also happened to be Dean's grandfather's name! Which cinched it. Oliver was almost his name, so it became his middle name.)

The baby. He's 11 years younger than Jordyn, 7 years younger than Alex and 5 years younger than Morgan

He has golden brown hair, brown eyes, and freckles. As far as what he looks like when he's older, I'm not entirely sure. The two picrews on the far top left are ideas I have, but who knows! He's still just a little guy in my mind lol

He's so so sweet, quiet, gentle, sensitive, and the biggest mama's boy in the world. He has a tendency to bottle things up because he doesn't like confrontation

He's also autistic! Frogs are his special interest ever since he was really little. He's very set in his routines and he doesn't like any of those routines to change. He also gets overstimulated and stressed around loud noises/too many noises at once, so he wears headphones a lot and/or retreats to a quiet place in the house to read. He doesn't play in the traditional sense, but he really enjoys sorting things by size and color. But he loves Legos

He has sooo many stuffed frogs. Like all over his room lmao. But this bullfrog is his favorite, he carries it everywhere

He goes through a construction worker phase when he's little. You know, having the little tool box and the hard hat and the little vest

I think he and Alex share a room for a time. I haven't decided what ages exactly they share a room. When Jordyn moves into the attic, they split Jordyn and Morgan's old big room into two separate rooms, and Alex moves into the other big room the boys shared, and Morgan and Henry each get one of the split rooms

He likes reading, mostly. Beyond that, I'm not sure yet. Like I said, he's still little in my head 😂 the oldest I can picture him is 8

To answer your OC asks!

Rose: Upon meeting your character for the first time, how would someone describe them?

I think my little personality summaries above are basically it!! Sorry I'm out of braincells after typing this but I do wanna answer it today!!

Lily: Which high school stereotype do they fit into?

Jordyn: I think she's kind of in between. I don't think she fits into any one stereotype

Alex: the jock

Morgan: the cute popular girl (except she's nice)

Henry: the loner kid who gets good grades

[prettyboybuckley]

first lines tag

@demieddie thank you for tagging me ❤️❤️

Rules: List the first lines of the last ten (10) stories you published. Look to see any patterns you notice yourself, and see if anyone else notices any. Then tag some friends.

the sun will rise and we will try again

Magic fix-alls don't exist.

That's no news to Buck, and it's not like he expected everything to suddenly change.

you could call me babe for christmas ('tis the damn season)

The moment Maddie asks him if there's something they can talk about, Buck knows it's going to be something he won't like. With the end of the year and Christmas coming close, there are a lot of things this could be about, and none of his assumptions right now are positive. all the reasons i'm not good enough

Buck is at a five-alarm fire, and Eddie is going out of his mind with worry.

He's been going crazy stuck at home already, recovery slow and tedious. It's coming to an end, thankfully, with every check-up he gets a little more of his freedom back.

is it enough to know you're mine?

If there's one thing Buck would agree to in a heartbeat, it's that at forty years old, Eddie Buckley-Diaz looks maybe the best he ever has. The graying at his temples gives him a certain sparkle that gets Buck a little hot under the collar every time he stares too long, and the laughter lines at the corners of his eyes are enough to make his heart skip a beat.

i'll walk through fire for you

It's been a quiet shift so far.

Hen and Chim would probably murder him if they knew he used the Q-word, even if it's in his head, but it's the truth. Eddie is bored out of his mind, to the point where he almost wishes the alarm will go off.

i'm just tryna play it cool now

Eddie isn't really the kind of guy who goes to bars.

He has a job with long shifts, often overnight, and a kid at home whom he spends most of his free time with, so going out is not really his thing.

it's under covers where it all begins

When quarantine came and there were fewer beds and bed-adjacent furniture in Buck's apartment than people, it made sense that Eddie would share with Buck. They're comfortable enough with each other, and Eddie is pretty sure Hen and Chimney didn't even blink when they suggested it. It was just the logical thing to do.

welcome to the end of being alone inside your mind

Buck is spiraling.

Absolutely, completely spiraling. Which is something he's gotten very good at over the years, though he's thankfully also very good at doing it internally.

if i took you home, it'd be a home run

Eddie weighs the softball in his hands, waiting for the next firefighter to step up to the plate.

It's a typical day for August in L.A., the sun beating down on the field and getting them all overheated and dehydrated.

open up again (i believe in second chances)

Eddie has been going a little crazy lately.

There is a full moon coming up, and while he's been a werewolf for thirty-three years for fuck's sake, it's affecting him more than usual.

I think the biggest pattern I notice is that I often start with a first name and/or with one very short sentence followed by a longer one. 😊

tagging @lesbianbuck @honestlydarkprincess @adventuresofprettyboyandthekid @zainclaw

[vintagelacerosette]

A FIREMAN!!?!? MYN. A FIREMAN???? I need this. I want this. please tell me everything you know about fireman Mickey and then while you're at it please write it!

Hello hello lovely Howl thank you dearest for the ask 😘 & my beloved Benja @mrsinistertype was also interested thank you 😘💕

Ahaha this one is a bit bare bones at the moment 😅 but I just thought what if Mickey showed up to the softball game after seeing Tony with Caleb in 6×05. Ian is shook & Mickey is looking like he's thriving & healthy, which he is! I'm thinking Mickey is being transferred over to Caleb's team but new him from the softball games.

I imagined Mickey being given a chance when one good Samaritan lawyer re-examined his case & saw the bullshit charges he had. So he was released. Then he meets this silver fox ex fireman somehow & that sparks the interests into going into firefighting.

And yeah I don't think Ian & Mickey will be finding their way back to each other straight away so a slow burnish bc I myself ain't a fan of slow burns hahaha

Would love to focus on emergencies & having Ian & Mickey having to do their jobs while their lingering love is there for that juicy melodrama 😂

[half-bakedboy]

jumping to (the wrong) conclusion (read on ao3)

Pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz Rated: General Summary: “Buck, Eddie was trying to tell you he’s in love with you,” Taylor said, her voice more serious than he thought she’d be capable of with so much alcohol in her system.

“He— No— Wait, I— What?” Buck’s mind came up with rapid-fire responses because no part of him was truly ready to handle the fact that his best friend might feel the same for Buck as he had for the last two years.

Or Eddie realizes something about his best friend, Buck finds his courage and Taylor gets to witness it all.

A Season 4 Episode 11: First Responders Extended Scene (contains minor spoilers for the ep)

The adrenaline was still pumping through Eddie’s veins even after he had changed out of his sweat-soaked uniform and taken a longer than necessary shower at the station. His blood was thrumming under his skin and he was sure he would vibrate right out of his body if he had the ability. The gunshots still echoed in his ears, Bobby’s quick actions flashing across his mind, and before Eddie realized it, he was pulling up to Buck’s apartment building.

He should have figured that’s where he would end up. Chris was with Hen, Karen, and the kids for the night, and Eddie had planned to drink a few beers by his lonesome while watching the UFC fight he had missed a few days prior. He had set it up to be the perfect night in his head, but he realized that his night couldn’t be nearly perfect because Buck wouldn't be there. Buck was just… inevitable.

Before he could think about what that meant, he got out of the car and locked the door with his keyfob, knowing that Buck would recognize the familiar beep of his car. He was lucky enough as he walked in that one of Buck’s neighbors that Eddie knew to be a night nurse was just leaving for her shift.

“Eddie, stopping by again already?” Becky shouted with a wiggle of her eyebrows. He jogged up the steps and grabbed the door from her, picking up the water bottle she had dropped on the floor to help her out. While Becky was very sweet and often let Eddie in when Buck wasn’t awake yet, he didn’t really feel like sparking up a conversation when his mind was racing as it was.

“Yeah, is Buck around?” He asked, making sure to keep a safe distance between them.

“He is, I think he came back with—“

Before she could finish, Eddie interrupted, “Thanks so much. Have a good shift!”

He was pretty sure he sprinted up the steps, unsure of how his feet were moving so fast. His mind was still racing, over and over with only thoughts of Buck clouding his conscience. Buck, who had been his best friend for years and had saved Eddie - not to mention Christopher - more times than he could count. Buck, who was the only thing Eddie had thought about for the last few months like a stream of what if’s and what could be’s that spiraled around his mind. Buck, Buck…

“Buck?” He called as he pounded his fist against the door. It was overkill, he knew. Buck had never not answered the door for anyone if he was home because he was just too kind to ignore someone who may be in need. Eddie’s smile widened on his lips at even the mere thought of Buck and he ran his hands over his face in both frayed nerves and sheer excitement as he waited for Buck to answer.

When the door opened and Buck’s confused look turned into a wide smile, Eddie pushed himself past the entrance and turned on Buck before either of them spoke. He thought at first that he wouldn’t know what to say, but then his eyes met Buck’s and he couldn’t stop himself from once the words started.

“I almost got shot today. Again,” Eddie added with a laugh, and Buck’s face contorted into that deep concern he seemed to always have for everyone but himself. “I’m fine, we’re all fine, but Buck, I was caught in the crossfire of yet another person with an indescribable amount of evil in their heart and it was like I was back there, in Afghanistan with enemy fire coming at all sides. That adrenaline, that fear, that instinct to survive kicked on in full force.”

“Eddie, are you—“ Buck tried to speak, his arms reached out as if to inspect Eddie for injury, but Eddie stepped closer and grabbed his hands tightly instead.

“And all I could think about was you,” Eddie admitted, shaking his head in disbelief that he had actually said it. “I heard the first shot and I thought, ‘thank god Buck isn’t here so I can focus on the girl I’m here to save’ and at no point did I stop to question why that was. Then I was loading her into the ambulance, about to crawl outta my skin with— with thrill just vibrating through me and somehow I found myself here.”

“Maybe we should—“ Eddie barely noticed Buck suddenly tense and glance over his shoulder.

“I realized that I am always going to find myself here because you’re my person, you know? My partner that I trust in times of severe danger, my best friend that I want to be around when anything exciting happens to me, and Jesus, Buck, I want you—“

“If it isn’t the one man at Station 118 that can’t stand me.” The voice had Eddie’s bubbling blood freezing in his veins and if he had hackles, he was sure they’d be standing at attention. Eddie turned and saw none other than Taylor Kelly - Eddie refrained from calling her the reporter from Hell because he knew Buck hated it - making herself comfortable in the kitchen with a half-empty champagne glass in her grasp and a knowing smirk on her face.

“I didn’t realize you were coming by, Eddie, I—“ Buck began, but Eddie held up his hand. It was then that he noticed Taylor’s discarded shoes next to the kitchen island and the already empty bottle of champagne on the counter.

“No, I’m— I’m sorry for barging in like this. I’ve clearly interrupted…” Eddie trailed off, tearing his eyes away from Taylor to gaze back at Buck, “whatever this is so I’ll just head out.”

“Why don’t you join us, Firefighter Diaz? We’ve got extra champagne to celebrate our successes today and I’m definitely not one to turn away fine looking men on such a beautiful night,” Taylor commented and Eddie noticed the glare Buck shot at her. He also noticed the twinkle in Buck’s eyes and the way his lip tugged up at the corner like he couldn’t help but be amused by her.

“You two have— a night. Together. Without, uh, me,” Eddie said before he rushed out the door.

-------------------------------

The door slamming interrupted the giggles bursting from Taylor’s lips. Buck knew she was tipsy - they both were, in all fairness, - but the way she snorted and then laughed some more told him she was far beyond safe to drive home that night.

“Oh my god, that poor dude, he just— came in here guns a-blazing,” Taylor said and then laughed more, presumably at her own ridiculous joke. She took a deep breath and shook her head, staring up at a wide-eyed Buck. “Well, what the hell are you still doing in here, idiot?”

“What? Where else would I—?” Taylor grabbed the cork from the counter and threw it directly at Buck’s head. It bounced off his temple and hit the floor before Buck reflexes could catch up to him. “Damn, Kelly, you play softball at journalism school or something?”

“Yeah, it’s what gave me such a good gaydar,” she replied. Buck was unsure how that was relevant to the conversation and tilted his head at her, pursing his lips in questions. “Buck, Eddie was trying to tell you he’s in love with you,” Taylor said, her voice more serious than he thought she’d be capable of with so much alcohol in her system.

“He— No— Wait, I— What?” Buck’s mind came up with rapid-fire responses because no part of him was truly ready to handle the fact that his best friend might feel the same for Buck as he had for the last two years.

“You’re not stupid, Buck, and I know I tell you all the time that you are, but you know I don’t mean it,” Taylor said, walking over to Buck and resting a comforting hand on his bicep. “Eddie was just spouting poetry at you, dude. You heard what happened over at dispatch today. If Josh hadn’t been so on his game, there’s a solid chance that Eddie - the entire team - might have—“

“Oh my god, he—“ All of sudden, Eddie’s words caught up with him. All I could think about was you. You’re my person. Forever. The words flashed in Buck’s mind like lightning on a hot summer night and he wasn’t sure he was breathing anymore.

“He loves you,” Taylor reassured, nudging him toward the door. All it took was the familiar beep of Eddie’s car unlocking for Buck to surge into action.

He threw himself down the stairs at least two at a time and pushed the door open with a huff and a shout for Eddie; his partner, his best friend, the person he had been in love with since the very beginning. Eddie stopped but didn’t turn, and Buck could see the white-knuckled grip he had on the door handle even in the limited light.

Buck was never good at saying the right thing. He spoke without thinking more often than not which anyone that had ever had a conversation with Buck would attest to, but he knew that he couldn’t do that then. Whatever he chose to say at that very moment would make or break their relationship even further than it might have already been the moment Eddie laid his eyes on Taylor.

He had it all planned out before. He would ask Eddie out on a real date and when he inevitably thought they were getting dinner as friends, Buck would declare his intentions with a brave voice and hope with everything in him that Eddie felt the same. He straightened his spine, brought his shoulders back, and crossed his arms over his chest, but the voice that followed did nothing to match the strong stance.  

“Athena arrested me today,” Buck noted, cursing himself at the ridiculous start. When Eddie didn’t turn around, Buck took a cautious step forward and rested a hand on his shoulder, grateful for the way his grip eased on the door. “I got into trouble that I shouldn’t have to try to do the right thing and it was probably reckless and stupid, but I did it as I’m sure you knew I would,” Buck laughed and shook his head as he admitted, “and the entire time I wished it was you beside me.”

He ignored the shout from Taylor who apparently didn’t like that comment.

“I didn’t know you were the one getting shot at, but if I did, I— I don’t think Athena could’ve kept me in that interview room,” Buck said, grateful when Eddie turned on him with wide eyes.

“Wait, Thena literally arrested you?” Eddie asked incredulously, but Buck saw the little bit of amusement in his eye anyway.

“I mean, nothing that’ll show up on record, cause you know I would’ve called you to bail me out,” Buck noted. Eddie laughed and looked down at the keys in his hands and Buck took the chance to move one step closer. “I didn’t know you were there, putting yourself in the line of fire, Eddie. The second I heard you say it, I couldn’t hear anything else because I was too worried that even though you were standing right in front of me, there was a chance you could not have been.”

“You didn’t… hear me?” Eddie asked, glancing up at Buck like his worst fear had come true. Buck was pretty sure the adrenaline rush Eddie had was washed away by seeing Taylor in his apartment and if that was Buck, he wouldn’t have the courage to say all that he admitted again. So Buck let himself take the reins.

“Do you wanna get dinner?” He asked, just as he had practiced so many times before.

“Do I want to…”

“God, Diaz, just say yes so that I can go pass out on Buck’s couch with the satisfaction of all the good I’ve done today,” Taylor yelled and Buck glared at her once again.

“Does saying yes to you mean I have to like her?” Eddie asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Buck huffed out a laugh and said, “She grows on you.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” Eddie commented as he locked his car doors again and pushed past Buck as easily as he had a few minutes ago.

“Is that a yes, then?” Buck asked as he jogged to catch up, bumping his waist into Eddie’s as they reached the front door.

“Got any more champagne?” Eddie asked, avoiding Buck’s question. Taylor let out a snort as she followed them into Buck’s apartment.

“Oh, I like this one, Buck. He’s gonna be good for you,” Taylor said before throwing herself on the couch and leaving the two men in the kitchen.

“He already is,” Buck muttered, staring over at Eddie who had helped himself to a beer he had no doubt left in Buck’s fridge. “Except he still hasn’t answered my—“

“Yes, Buck. Dinner sounds great.” And it really, really did.

[babyjeep]

Hi! So I just binge read Current in like three days and absolutely love it so I hope you keep going! Also I wanted to know if you had any face claims for Ray and pretty much anything else that you want to talk about that's not included in the story, go on and vent I want to know all! :) (Also aslo I LOVE the fact that you made Stiles and Ray bi and I can't wait for more scenes that touch and talk on that!)

Oh wow, my first ever Anon message. Mom, I’ve made it! Haha

But wow it so crazy every time someone tells me they binge read my story??? Like??? Oh gosh it just always brings a smile to my face because I know what it’s like to be up at like 3am with a good fic and thinking, “Just one more chapter.” And I can’t believe my story is long enough for people to do that!!

Face claims for Ray! Honestly I jumped around ALOT with this. I had the idea for this story written for years and it used to be Ana de Armas, but then Knives out came out and for a brief second I was seeing her everywhere as a faceclaim (not so much anymore). She is still adorable and close to how I picture Ray! Then for a while I thought of using Diane Gurrero, but lately I’ve been loving Natalia Reyes. Ray is half Mexican, so she is not white!

And I’ve always pictured Gabby as Herizen Guardiola. (I know you didn’t ask but I will take any opportunity to talk about Herizen).

Other things about the story that I don’t get to talk about much?? I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it in the writing, but Melissa and Sonia (Ray’s mom) used to be on a work softball team together and they played against a team of firefighters which is how Sonia met Danny’s dad Marcus. Which is why their family is big in baseball! Marcus is an As fan, but he has been rooting for the SF Giants too ever since Danny came out to him. (Parents show their support in the weirdest ways)

I don’t know how much more I can say without giving away plot lol! But what I can say is, don’t read too fast because I have a lot of foreshadowing in the first two seasons that comes back later on. For instance, that flashback from when they were kids where Melissa called Ray “Stingray”. . That may or may not come back season 5. . (;

Anyway,,,I’m interested in who you imagine for Ray!!!! So let me know! And thank you so much for the message!!!!

[faveficarchive]

Love and Death in a Trailer Park

Part 1 of Vivian Darkbloom’s White Trash Series

By Vivian Darkbloom

Pairing: Xena/Gabrielle

Rating: Mature

Synopsis: From the Academy of Bards: Life in a trailer park takes a on new meaning when a going-nowhere factory worker, Gabrielle, meets a dark and enigmatic firefighter Zina.

Gabrielle held the phone—the old beige one they stole from their mom—away from her ear in disbelief. The perky male voice on the line had asked for her, and when she said "Yup, I'm Gabrielle Hockenberry," the cheerful young man went on to explain that she was being asked to participate in the Jerry Springer Show, more specifically, the show tentatively entitled, "My Sister's Boyfriend Made Me Pregnant!" At which point she screamed, "No fuckin' way!" into the receiver and slammed it down.

She stomped through their apartment in search of Lila, who was on the recliner—the one that Uncle Pat gave him that had been sitting in his garage for two years—eating cold pizza and watching Geraldo. In fact, a half-eaten slice was balanced precariously on her swollen stomach.

Gabrielle snatched the remote out of her sister's limp, greasy grip and Geraldo's face, taut with concern, dwindled into darkness. "What'd ya do that for?" Lila bellowed, as if her sister had stabbed her.

"You know goddamn well, Lila! Some jerk from Jerry Springer just called me!"

Lila's wounded look metamorphosed into surprise and hope. "Yeah?"

"How could you, my own sister! I don't want our dirty laundry aired all over national TV!"

"But Gab," Lila whined, "it would be fun. They put you up in a hotel, you get to ride in a fuckin' limo—"

"Forget it, Lila! If you and Purdy want to embarrass yourselves, go right ahead! But I'm not gonna do it!"

"Come on, Gab—I promise you I'll go easy on you in the fight. After all, you're the wronged party, everyone'll be rooting for you."

The wronged party. Gabrielle clenched her teeth, remembering the night Lila and Purdy sat down with her and told her that they were "in love" and Lila was having his baby. After assaulting Purdy with an old copy of Cosmo, she promptly called up Effie, her best friend, and the two of them went down to the Saddle and got wasted. She had six Rolling Rocks, two pina coladas, and threw up in the bathroom.

Now Lila was five months pregnant. She'd grown accustomed to it all; in fact, when she got right down to it, she hardly missed Purdy at all. She actually saw the bastard even more so now than when they were dating—it seemed like he was over at the apartment constantly, fawning over Lila and the "demon spawn" (as Gabrielle secretly called it) inside her. Still, it all hurt. Being dumped, especially for your own sister, wasn't easy. Purdy had said mean things to her—she was cold, she was too wrapped up in her dreams of writing poetry and going back to school, they didn't have sex enough, blah blah blah....But she didn't blame Lila all that much—after all, Purdy was attractive, that's how he got the nickname, from the bullies in school who said he was "purdy as a flower." The name stuck, but as he grew even more handsome, it took on a favorable aspect.

Gabrielle put hands on hips and glared at her sister. "I could beat you with one hand tied behind my back, even if you weren't knocked up. I've been workin' out, ya know." With that, she stalked into her bedroom and slammed the door.

Once inside her sanctuary, Gabrielle flopped down on her bed and cried a little. To calm herself she clutched her stuffed sheep and stared at her old David Bowie poster. I need something in my life...I need love, I need to get outta here, I need to stop working in that freakin' factory...she chanted this over and over in her mind as the silvery gray of the diminishing day deepened into darkness. She'd had no idea how long she had been lying in bed when she heard the phone ring, and Lila's voice answering it. Then a shout: "GAB-RI-ELLE!!!"

She touched her face—her tears had dried, and she hoped that her eyes didn't look too puffy; she didn't want Lila to know she had been crying. She got up and went out into the living room. Lila stood, watching a rerun of Home Improvement, holding the phone. Her eyes didn't flicker from the screen as she thrust it at Gabrielle, who eyed it suspiciously. Lila did not break her gaze at the TV when she muttered, "It's Effie."

"Thank God it's not Jerry Springer." Gabrielle couldn't resist the jibe as she swiped the receiver from her sister.

"What's this about Jerry Springer?" Effie's voice crackled on the line.

"Nothin', Eff. What's up?"

"Hey, you gonna be there tonight?"

"Huh?" Gabrielle muttered. Then she remembered: Effie and her band, the Amazin' Amazons, were playing down at the Saddle Bar & Grill. "Oh, I guess Eff....although I'm not really in the mood."

"Don't worry. It'll be a short set. Pony hurt her arm at softball the other day, so she's not swingin' the drumsticks as good as usual. "

"Okay, I'll be there. What time you go on?"

"At ten. We'll be done by eleven." A pause. "You okay, honey?"

"Yeah...you know, just the usual bullshit," Gabrielle mumbled so that Lila would not hear. But Effie, of course, did hear her.

"Well, sounds like you need to get the hell out of there for a while. I wish you'd move in with us. We got plenty of room." Effie shared a big farmhouse with her son and her bandmates, Pony and Sally. They were frequently the talk of the town; everyone wondered what went on at "the Farmhouse." Rumors ran amok, of everything from crack houses and homosexual recruitment to orgies involving any number of species and genders. Gabrielle knew none of it was true.

"Come down early, we'll have a beer before the set," Effie said.

"Okay, Eff. I'll be there around nine. How's that?"

"Great! See ya then, honey. Bye." Gabrielle hung up the receiver and headed toward the bedroom. Idly she flipped through the blouses in her closet. Oh what the hell, she sighed, peeling off the old Guns and Roses t-shirt she was wearing, I'll wear what I always wear. She selected the green polo shirt (puke green, everyone said—nonetheless it was her favorite top) and went into the bathroom. She washed her face, dusted her armpits with a fresh layer of Dial deodorant, added a little dab of perfume, washed her face with Noxema, and donned her shirt. She was brushing her flame-colored hair when she noticed Lila leaning in the bathroom doorway. "Goin' out?" her sister asked, noncommittal.

"Yeah," Gabrielle replied with equal neutrality. "Effie's band is playin' down at the Saddle."

Lila scrunched her face with disapproval. "I still don't know about Effie, Gab."

Gabrielle rolled her eyes. "Lila, Effie is not a lezzie, okay? I mean, she had a kid!" Although Gabrielle knew that Effie was open to the possibility, as once declared under the influence of several bottles of Miller Lite and shots of Jagermeister.

"Well, she lives with Pony and Sally, and those two..."

"So goddamn what, Lila. So they're dykes. So what." Gabrielle slammed the brush down.

"Well, I mean, I really don't care...what they do is their own business, just as long as I don't have to see it." Lila tried in vain to sound as liberal as her sister.

"I guess I'll have to tell them not to come over and perform for you tonight, then," Gabrielle growled sarcastically, walking toward the door.

"You're just impossible sometimes," Lila shouted after her. "No wonder Purdy didn't want to be with you anymore!"

Gabrielle picked her car keys out of the candy dish on the kitchen table and slammed the door behind her.

*****

She had been nursing a Miller Lite the entire time Effie and the band were on stage; the set actually ran a little longer than Effie had told her—it was after eleven, and they were finally winding down, singing a version of "Layla." They were an odd group, Gabrielle thought, regarding her friends on stage: Pony at the drums, Sally on bass, Effie with her guitar, singing. Pony liked strictly country music, Sally liked classic rock stuff, and Effie, like Gabrielle, went for mushy love songs, although she was unsuccessful in her campaign to get the group to cover Celine Dion. At last, they launched into the final song of the evening, "Angel of the Morning," much to Sally's consternation; the willowy bassist rolled her eyes as Pony gently yet firmly launched into the melodramatic beats and Effie began to sing. Gabrielle smiled as Effie's voice washed over the inattentive crowd.

Out of the corner of her eye Gabrielle saw an interesting trio enter the bar: A large, burly man with long, sandy brown hair and a short, muscular fellow with curly blond hair were accompanied by a tall, beautiful woman with flowing black hair. They ordered beers at the bar, and while the large man engaged his smaller friend in conversation, the tall woman leaned back against the bar and watched the band. Her jeans, t-shirt, and work boots were as dark as her hair. She stood arms folded, drinking a Heineken. Gabrielle found herself staring at the striking woman, until the woman finally returned her frank, inquisitive stare. With a shudder—of what, she didn't quite know—she turned away and once again focused her attention on Effie. But, half a minute later, when she let her eyes roam once again to the stranger at the bar, she found those sparkling intense eyes still on her.

Half-hearted applause rose as the song ended; Gabrielle, in a nervous burst of energy, led the cheers and clapping. As Effie wished the crowd a good-night and exhorted them to sign a mailing list, Gabrielle climbed on the stage to help the group put their equipment away.

"Hey roadie," Sally greeted her with a grin.

"Hi Sal. How's it going?"

"Pretty good, although dumb-ass over there didn't listen to me!" She threw a glare at Pony, who was slowly dismantling her drum kit. "I heard that," the burly drummer retorted. "I'm fine, Sally, stop bugging me!"

"You're hurt, Pony, you need to rest that arm!" Sally shouted at her lover.

"Knock it off!" Pony yelled back.

"Christ, you two," Gabrielle moaned. Effie came over and gave her a hug. "Well?" she demanded. She always asked Gabrielle's opinion of a performance, because she knew her friend was always honest, yet gentle.

"'Angel' was good, Eff. 'Layla' was a little sluggish though."

"Thought so. Pony was getting tired."

"Shut up!" Pony roared.

"I wish you'd lay off 'Achy Breaky Heart' though..."

"Well, we gotta keep you-know-who happy," Sally growled as she watched Pony stalk off the stage.

"Oh Jesus, Sally, don't let her get tanked!" Effie said to the bassist.

"Don't worry, Eff." Sally leaned into her friends conspiratorially. "Eff—did ya see who's here?"

Effie nodded slowly.

"Who?" Gabrielle asked.

"Zina," Effie nodded over at the bar.

"The woman? With black hair?" Gabrielle said breathlessly. "You know her?"

"Yeah," Effie drawled mysteriously. "We go back a ways."

"I've never seen her in here before," Gabrielle remarked.

"She lives in Chakram Creek. She's a fireman over there."

"Fireperson," Gabrielle corrected.

"Whatever. I'd heard she went straight after getting out of prison."

"No!" Sally cried, horrified.

"Not that kinda straight, Sally," Effie smirked. "I mean, she's not a con anymore. No more dope, no stealin'..."

"What was she in for?" Gabrielle interrupted nervously.

"Oh, she was in and out a lot. Minor stuff at first, like grand theft auto, dealin' weed, then breaking and entering, burglary...she did two and a half years altogether." Effie regarded the dark, dangerous woman who was quietly talking with her large friend. "Some say she even set fire to that old house in Cirra, but they never proved that."

"It's kinda funny she's a fireman then, isn't it?" Sally said. She and Effie cracked up.

"Wow," Gabrielle whispered. She permitted herself to take in the woman unabashedly. Sally and Effie exchanged a look.

"What're you so interested in, Miss Gabrielle?" Sally asked, smirking.

"Nothin'!" Gabrielle cried defensively. "It's just...she sounds real interesting. I'd like to meet her sometime."

Effie raised an eyebrow. "No time like the present, then!" She grabbed Gabrielle's arm and proceeded to drag her friend over to the bar.

"Effie!" Gabrielle squealed in protest. She hoped her hair looked okay.

The three friends at the bar turned their attention to the two women who approached them. "Zina!" Effie said effusively.

" 'lo, Eff," murmured Zina. She hoisted the Heineken to her lips and let her eyes roam over Gabrielle, who felt a strangle tingling sensation travel up her spine. They must have the air conditioning on too strong again, she thought, even though she was sweating a little. Zina, however, looked cool as a cucumber.

"Long time no see. How the hell are you?" Effie said.

"Pretty good."

"Heard you're living over in the Creek now."

"Yup."

"Workin' for the fire department, huh?"

"Yup."

"Like it?"

"Uh huh."

Gabrielle let a dint of exasperation cloud her face. She's about as interesting as that bottle of Heineken, thought the budding poet.

"So what's up, Eff?"

"I wanted to introduce you to my best friend, Gabrielle."

"Hiya." Zina enfolded Gabrielle's smaller hand with her large, warm one. She nodded toward the large man on her left. "This here's Hank." Then a nod to the shorter fellow on her right. "An' this is Ed."

Hank's smile was warm; he too shook Gabrielle’s hand. Ed wore a John Deere cap, from which his mass of curly gold hair tried to escape. His eyes twinkled mischievously. Gabrielle liked him immediately. "Hi!" he said enthusiastically. "Wanna dance?" he asked.

She looked at the dance floor near the jukebox. No one was on the floor except Margie Peckerwood, who was, as usual, drunk and dancing with herself. "Uh, maybe later," Gabrielle said, with an apologetic smile.

"Well, maybe you’d like to go outside an’ look at my new truck..." Ed leered.

Gabrielle looked surprised. Hank shook his head sadly. "Some other time," she suggested. Now she wasn’t sure if she liked him as much.

"Smooth move, Ex-Lax," Hank drawled, playfully swatting Ed’s head and causing his hat to fall to the floor.

"Watch the hat, goddammit!" Ed cried.

"Come on, let’s go play pool. Table’s free." Hank turned to Zina. "You comin’, Z?"

"Not right now," replied Zina with another pull on the Heineken.

As the men sauntered away, Effie announced, "Well, I need to go help Sal load up the van. I’ll see ya later, honey," she gave Gabrielle a quick hug.

"Effie! Don’t leave me with her!" Gabrielle hissed in her friend’s ear.

"Too late!" Effie whispered back, gleefully. She smiled and waved goodbye at Zina, who nodded.

Gabrielle turned to the laconic firefighter. It was then noticed the intense blue of the woman’s eyes. "So, uh, how’d you get such an unusual name?" she asked.

"Mom was a hippie," Zina replied.

"Huh? I don’t get it."

Zina sighed; she hated making the effort to formulate a longer sentence. "Well, uh, you know how tree-huggers are. They’re a little funny, always gotta do things differently. Mom did say it was an old family name, but I don’t know...I mean, she named our dog Moonchild, for Christ’s sake."

Gabrielle giggled. Then stopped, hoping that Zina would not take offense. But a lop-sided grin lit up the tall woman’s handsome face. And Gabrielle felt herself return the smile. Maybe Zina wasn’t as bad as she thought—she did appear to have a sense of humor. "Is, uh, Hank your boyfriend?"

Zina chuckled. "Nope. He was, a long time ago, but not no more. He is my best bud, though. He helped me get on the fire department."

Eventually Zina went over to play pool with Hank. Gabrielle watched and talked with Ed a little, who kept telling her silly jokes.

"Hey, how come little girls don’t fart?"

"I dunno. Why?"

"’Cause they don’t get an asshole until they get married!"

She laughed so hard she spilled her beer. "That’s pretty funny—hey, it’s cool that you told that joke, since you’re a guy and all."

"I’m an equal opportunity bullshitter," Ed replied, swigging a Rolling Rock.

When Gabrielle left the Saddle it was a little after midnight. She climbed into her Ford Escort, inserted the key into the ignition, and heard the car give its old familiar sputter. But this time it would not turn over. She tried for fifteen minutes. Finally she got out of the car, and kicked a tire rather furiously. "Piece of shit!" she yelled at it.

"Not startin’?" said a smooth, sexy voice near her ear.

"Aaaaagh!!!" Gabrielle screamed. She jumped around and saw Zina grinning down at her.

"Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya."

"S’okay," Gabrielle panted. "Uh no, my goddamn car isn’t starting." She kicked the Ford again.

"An Escort," Zina stated flatly. She tch’ed.

"I know, I know, everybody says it’s a piece of crap." She looked at Zina hopefully. "Know anything about cars?"

The firefighter nodded. "Open the hood," she said. Gabrielle reached in and did so. The tall woman ducked her head under the hood. "Battery looks bad," Zina said. "Might be dead."

"Shit!" Gabrielle cried.

Zina slammed the hood down. "Lock it up, call a tow service tomorrow," she suggested. "I’ll give you a ride home on my bike."

"Bike?" bleated the small woman fearfully.

"Yeah." She followed Zina over to a big sleek motorcycle. A Harley.

"Wow," Gabrielle said, awestruck. Zina handed her a helmet. "What about you? Don’t you have a helmet?" she asked, strapping the dark thing on her head.

Zina smiled at her and tapped the helmet. "You’re wearin’ it, kid. Hop on. Where d’ya live?"

"Potadeia Road. The yellow house just past the church."

"Gotcha."

"Uh, Zina?" "Yeah?"

"I’m a little scared—I’ve never ridden on a cycle before."

"It’ll be okay, Gabrielle," Zina replied soothingly. Her simple words, spoken in that rich, clear voice, put Gabrielle at ease. For some inexplicable reason she trusted this woman. "Just hang on to me tight, okay?"

"Okay." Gabrielle climbed on the bike behind the tall woman and gently wrapped her arms around the t-shirt-clad torso. Her grasp tightened as the Harley exploded into sound and motion. The taut, rippling muscles of Zina’s stomach were a pleasant distraction to Gabrielle as they flowed across the parking lot and onto the road.

Zina was a careful driver, Gabrielle noticed—she was confident, yet she did not drive the bike too fast—probably ‘cause she doesn’t want to scare me, thought the young woman. It pleased her that her new friend was so considerate. She sighed happily as they moved through the night. The wind was cool, and Zina’s dark hair whipped behind her, the strands tickling and touching Gabrielle’s face.

*****

The next morning at work, Gabrielle sought out Effie during their 10:15 coffee break.

"So you had car trouble?" Effie said. They didn’t have time to talk before punching in earlier; Gabrielle only had a moment to mention that her car was dead.

"My car broke down outside the Saddle last night. I had to get a ride to work with Purdy," she scowled. Purdy had stayed over last night, and this morning, upon hearing of her dilemma, offered to drive her to work, the big suck-up. Reluctantly she had accepted, since she knew it would be out of Eff’s way to come and give her a ride.

Effie smirked. "Hmmm...you gonna get Purdy to fix it, too?"

Gabrielle sighed in defeat. "Yeah, he’s gonna get Bob to tow it over to the garage this afternoon, and he said he’ll get Bob to give me a discount." Purdy worked at Bob’s garage. I might as well take advantage of the bastard’s guilt, Gabrielle had thought.

"How’d you get home last night?" Effie took a drag off her Marlboro Light.

"Zina gave me a ride." Gabrielle struggled to sound casual, and fought the happy grin that tugged at her mouth at the mere mention of Zina’s name.

"Oooooh," Effie giggled. "You two got kinda chummy there..."

"Eff, stop. It’s not what you think."

"Yeah, right. Pony and Sally think you have it in you."

"No!" cried Gabrielle. A blush traveled across her face.

"Yes. Speakin’ of which, we’re having a birthday party for Pony this weekend, remember? Saturday night."

"Oh yeah...damn, what am I gonna get her?" Gabrielle was relieved at the change of subject.

"Hey, if you just bring her a six-pack she’ll be happier than a pig in swill."

*****

When she woke up on Saturday morning, Lila was gone—she was probably off somewhere with Purdy. Gabrielle poured herself a bowl of Cocoa Puffs and sat down to a leisurely breakfast in front of the TV. As she waited for the Cocoa Puffs to get mushy, she noticed a videotape sitting atop the coffee table. It was label-less. Ever curious, she popped the tape into the VCR; the old machine heaved and clicked and whirred, and a picture came into view. It was the Jerry Springer Show. Gabrielle always thought that Jerry—with his messy blond hair and tiny eyes hiding behind those glasses—looked like a Muppet. The title of the show floated by: "Why Did You Knock Up That Slut?" Impatiently Gabrielle started in on the Cocoa Puffs—they still weren’t mushy enough, but she was hungry.

Thus spake Jerry: "On today’s show, we have people who disapprove of their family’s behavior..." The camera swung onto a young man, who looked vaguely familiar: he was thin and scrungy, with hollowed-out eyes, stringy hair, and patchy facial hair. "This is Gary, who is unhappy with his brother’s choice of a girlfriend."

Gabrielle spat out a mouthful of cereal. It was Gary. Purdy’s brother.

"Yeah, Jerry, my brother’s girlfriend is a total skank." She was outraged. That fucker, she thought. How dare he call my sister skank!

"Why do you say that, Gary?"

Gary rolled his druggy eyes. "’Cause she is!"

"Well, er, how about we meet your brother, Peter"—Purdy’s real name—"and his girlfriend, Lila."

Purdy swaggered out onto the set, resplendent in his best flannel shirt. Lila trailed behind him, looking grossly pregnant. Gabrielle felt like putting her foot through the TV, although she was comforted by the fact that Lila looked so huge in the tent-like maternity dress which said "BABY ON BOARD!"

"So, Peter, what do you say about your brother’s claims?"

"Man, he’s so *bleep* up on crack, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about!" Purdy drawled.

"Bull *bleep* !" said Gary. "You got no taste in wimmin whatsoever. Your last girlfriend was a stone cold bitch, and this one’s a slut!"

Purdy hurled himself toward his brother and the set erupted in chaos. Shakily, Gabrielle turned off the TV. She stared into her cereal bowl. He called me a bitch...and they didn’t even defend me. Not Purdy. Not Lila. No one. And they left the tape out in plain sight. Like they wanted me to see it. Why? Why doesn’t anyone ever take my side? She tried to fight it, but tears came to her eyes and she slumped into the recliner, surrendering to the sadness.

*****

Pony eagerly peeled away the wrapping paper. "Bubble bath?" she said, puzzled. "Uh, thanks, Gabrielle." She sat it alongside her other gifts: a whoopie cushion and fake blood (from Hank and Ed), a bottle of Jack Daniel’s (from Effie) and a new softball glove (her most treasured gift, from Sally).

Gabrielle shrugged. Everyone at the party could not help but notice her downcast mood; she felt lousy about it, but couldn’t help herself. Ed tried to cheer her up with some bad jokes, but even that didn’t work for long. So she sat morosely on the couch beside Effie, who every now and then would give her friend a concerned glance.

"I think it’s nice," Effie said. She gave Gabrielle’s leg a squeeze.

"Let’s have cake!" Sally announced. She and Effie moved into the kitchen. Hank, who appeared to have a crush on Effie, followed. Ed took the opportunity to go to the bathroom, and Pony got up to put on a new tape.

"No more Randy Travis, Pony!" Sally shouted from the kitchen.

"Hey, it’s my goddamn birthday!" Pony yelled back. The doorbell rang. "Gab, would you get that?" Pony called.

Mechanically Gabrielle got up and skulked to the door. She opened it. Zina, dressed in a Metallica t-shirt and Levi’s, mirrored sunglasses masking her brilliant eyes, grinned at her. "Am I too late?"

Gabrielle stood speechless. A sense of relief, of warmth, washed over her, and she didn’t know why. Why was she so damned happy to see this woman? "Oh...no," she said quietly. "You’re...right on time." She did not move, but continued to stand in the doorway and stare at the woman before her.

Zina pulled off the sunglasses. Her deep blue eyes showed concern. "Hey, you okay?" she asked gently.

"Uh, yeah. I am now." Gabrielle broke into a grin.

"Can I...come in?"

"Huh? Oh...duh!" Gabrielle stepped aside. "You’re just in time for cake."

"Cool. Where’s the birthday girl?"

"Hogging the stereo," Gabrielle replied.

As Zina moved gracefully into the house, Gabrielle trailed behind her, like a puppy.

*****

It was not lost on Effie that Gabrielle’s mood improved after Zina’s arrival—although she was concerned with how much her little friend was drinking. Her fears were realized when she saw Gabrielle lurch into the bathroom, and heard the tell-tale retching sounds.

Effie surveyed the little party. Ed was passed out. Sally and Pony had "retired" for the evening (thank God for thick walls, she thought)...she wanted to be alone with Hank, who was, remarkably, still sober. She knew that Zina would take off if Gabrielle left, and she hoped the vomiting was the beginning of the end of the party.

She hovered outside the bathroom door with Zina. She knocked lightly. "Gab, honey, you okay?" she called.

"Uh...yeah," Gabrielle moaned.

"Can we come in?"

"What...all of ya?"

"No, just me and Zina."

There was a lengthy pause.

"How about I just send in Zina, okay?" Effie suggested. Zina shot her a panicky look. Sometimes I’m just too smart for ‘em all, Effie thought proudly.

Another pause. "Okay."

Effie turned to Zina. "You’re on your own, Buster Brown." Before the befuddled firefighter could reply, Effie was back on the couch with Hank.

Slowly, Zina opened the bathroom door, expecting the worst. She was much relieved to see that Gabrielle had indeed hit her target, the toilet bowl. The small woman sat on the floor in front of it.

"How ya feelin’?" she asked Gabrielle.

"Better. I’m sorry...I guess I just...had a lousy day."

"Yeah?" Zina asked. "What happened?"

Gabrielle proceeded to tell her about the whole thing: Lila, Purdy, Jerry Springer.

"That sucks," Zina said.

"Thanks. I just felt like shit. Like no one likes me."

"That’s not true, Gabrielle. I...like you." Zina mumbled, nervously rubbing the back of her neck.

"Really?" Zina nodded. "Yeah, well..." Gabrielle giggled.

"What?"

"You don’t want to...you know."

"What?"

"I mean, you don’t like me that way...you wouldn’t want to kiss me or..." Her green eyes met Zina’s. Or would you?

"Uh, no I wouldn’t..."

Gabrielle felt as if she would throw up her heart.

"Cause your breath would smell like puke." Zina smiled. "But if you brushed your teeth..." she added, hoping it sounded enough like a joke so she wouldn’t alarm the girl.

"Get me my purse!" The redhead barked imperiously.

Zina opened the door and yelled to Effie: "Effie! Bring Gabrielle’s purse!" The firefighter saw Effie look up from her position on the couch: stretched out, with her feet in Hank’s lap. The big man was gently massaging her dainty feet. "Oh Christ," Effie moaned. Reluctantly she rose, and did as she was told. Zina smiled gratefully as Effie handed her the huge shoulder bag. "Jesus, what you got in here?" she said, closing the door and giving the purse to Gabrielle.

Gabrielle ignored her and began to ransack the bag with admirable focus. Several objects flew out onto the floor: Tic Tacs, tampons, pens, a tattered-looking notebook, a library card, sunglasses, and birth control pills. Gabrielle stopped for a second and stared at the pills. Then she tossed them into the trash. Then she stuck her arm inside the bag again. "Ah!" Gabrielle cried in triumph, holding aloft a toothbrush. She grinned devilishly at Zina, whose blue eyes went wide in shock.

"Whatsamatter, Zina? You all talk and no action?" She stood up and rinsed the brush, then squeezed some Crest out of the tube.

"Uh..."

Gabrielle glared. "You don’t want to kiss me?" She stuck the brush in her mouth, scrubbing her teeth in a furious lather.

"Uh..."

"Let me tell you somethin’, Dorito-breath, you’re getting the better end of this deal!" she said through a mouth of foam. She rinsed, and flashed her teeth at Zina. Then, for good measure, she took a swig of Effie’s Listerine and gargled.

"Gabrielle, are you sure..."

Gabrielle spat out the blue fluid. "Look, Zina, do you like me or not?" she cried petulantly.

The tall woman, leaning against the tub, smiled her mysterious smile—which turned Gabrielle’s insides out. She reached out and snared Gabrielle by the waist. The short woman was pressed against the muscular firefighter; her hands went flat against the strong shoulders and then glided instinctively around Zina’s neck. "Judge for yourself," Zina said, and lowered on her lips softly onto Gabrielle’s.

They were locked in a kiss when a voice shouted outside the bathroom door: "Comin’ through!" The door burst open and Ed hurled by, crouched over the toilet, and proceeded to throw up. The two women were oblivious to this burst of unpleasant activity. Effie and Hank, who had followed Ed, stood outside the door and stared at the sight of Gabrielle and Zina all over each other.

"Holy hell, Z," Hank muttered in shock.

"Woo-HOO!" Effie chortled.

The noise had roused the birthday girl from a sound, sex-induced slumber. Effie and Hank stood aside, affording Pony a view of the busy bathroom. "This was a pretty fuckin’ awesome party," she observed thoughtfully.

*****

Two weeks passed.

"You’ve been goin’ out an awful lot," Lila commented to her sister one evening, as she watched Gabrielle apply strawberry-kiwi-banana lip gloss in the bathroom.

"Well, I don’t want to be in your way, Lila."

"Bullshit." Lila paused. "It’s not like you were in my way before, Gabrielle." Another pause.

I swear she’s jealous, Gabrielle thought, and let a smug smile cross her face.

"Are you seein’ someone?"

"What if I was?" she retorted in a sing-song voice.

"Who is it?" Lila asked eagerly. She loved gossip, and she was hopeful that Gabrielle would finally get involved with someone, so she could stop feeling guilty.

"You don’t know...this person."

"Well, what does he do?"

"Firefighter," Gabrielle supplied.

"Ooooh," Lila cooed in approval. She conjured up a vision of a tall, dark handsome fireman. Aside from gender, she was not far off the mark at all. "That’s great, Gab. I can’t wait to meet him. Why don’t you invite him over for dinner or somethin’?"

"Uh, maybe sometime soon." She glanced at her Tasmanian Devil watch. "I gotta go. Say, are you and Purdy going to the fair on Friday night?"

"Yeah. You...wanna come?"

"Actually, I was gonna invite Effie and the gang over to watch videos. Their VCR is busted," Gabrielle lied. Her real plan was to invite Zina over for dinner.

"That’s cool. We’ll probably stay over at Purdy’s place that night...so you guys can party all night long."

Perfect, thought Gabrielle with a grin.

*****

There was something about firefighting gear, Zina thought pleasantly: the metal hat and visor, the glossy black and yellow coat, the boots...young children looked at her with awe, adults with admiration and respect, and Gabrielle leaped on her like a tick on a dog as soon as she came home. She sat happily on the couch in her mobile home (she hated to call it a trailer), allowing her lithe companion to crawl all over her like a jungle gym, smother her with kisses, caress her body, nibble her ear and moan throatily: "Ooooh firefighter, save my child...."

The world was perfect, until she heard the screen door slam. "Honey!!!" A shrill voice called. "I got your echinacea tea!"

"Oh shit," Zina moaned.

Gabrielle stopped her assault and turned around. A pleasant middle-aged woman, with a paisley scarf around her head, wearing a flowered skirt and lots of dangling jewelry, stood grinning at them. "Hey honey, who’s your sauce?" she addressed Zina.

Zina sighed. "Gabrielle...this is my mother. Mom, this is Gabrielle."

"Hi, Gabrielle!" Zina’s mother said brightly. "It’s nice to meet you...sorry to interrupt." She winked.

"Hi, Mrs. Zina," Gabrielle blurted, blushing furiously.

The woman laughed heartily. "Honey, you just call me Cyrene. I was never ‘Mrs.’ Anybody." She sashayed past them into the kitchen, carrying a small bag. "So I got you the tea, and some tempeh, a different brand though, I hope you like it..." She opened the refrigerator. "OH MY GOD!" she shrieked.

Gabrielle jumped off Zina’s lap. "What? What’s wrong?"

"There’s something from BURGER KING in here!"

"Mom, chill out, they’re just fries..." Zina mumbled.

"So you say!" Cyrene retorted. "You could’ve had a burger for all I know...and it’s not like fries are any better for you."

Gabrielle looked at Zina in confusion. Just last night she witnessed Zina wolf down a burger from Roy’s. Zina shook her head at Gabrielle and pressed a finger to her lips. Gabrielle nodded in complicity.

"Looks like I got here just in time," Cyrene sighed. "Go get the rest of the groceries out of my car, honey." Grumbling, Zina got up, shed her coat, and lumbered out to the car.

"Now tell me the truth...she’s been eating meat, hasn’t she?" Cyrene asked Gabrielle.

Gabrielle paused. She hated to lie, and she didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with Zina’s mom. "Yes," she admitted.

"Oh, hell," Cyrene said. "I might as well give up. I’m never going to make her a vegetarian." She shook her head, causing a chain reaction of clinking from her earrings down to her bracelets. "So tell me about yourself, Gabrielle. What do you do?"

"Well, I work at the cannery right now, but I’m hoping to take some night classes at Olympus Community College this fall..."

"Groovy! What kinda classes?"

"Uh, well, I wanna be a writer," she said shyly.

"Wow! That’s so cool! Did Zina tell you that I knew Bob Dylan?"

"No, really?" Gabrielle breathed with awe.

"Yeah, I dated him...right around the time I was dating Zina’s dad...I always wondered if Bobby was Zina’s real father..." she twirled a necklace and contemplated her monosyllabic child. "Nah!" She laughed. "Anyway, I think Dylan is a true poet. He is this century’s Shakespeare, man."

Gabrielle nodded vigorously, even though she had to admit to herself she never understood a goddamn thing that Dylan sang.

"Hey!" Cyrene pulled a joint out of her skirt pocket. "Care to partake?"

The budding poet opened her mouth to eagerly consent, only to hear Zina shout from the doorway, "Goddammit, Mom, put that away!!! D’ya want me to get arrested again?"

"I don’t see any cops, honey," Cyrene grumbled. Nonetheless she put away the joint for later. "Man, busted by my own kid!"

*****

"I’m glad you eat meat, ‘cause I made a meatloaf," Gabrielle said proudly.

It was Friday night. Wearing her best Levi’s, Zina had showed up at the apartment...with flowers, no less. Damn, she’s smooth! thought Gabrielle, sniffing the roses. Purdy never bought me flowers!

"Uh, nice place," Zina awkwardly, sitting on the plaid couch. Then she added: "I do like meatloaf. In fact, I haven’t had a home-made one in a real long time." Like try never, you moron, Zina thought, recalling the endless parade of beans and rice and tofu and tempeh in her childhood.

"Good," responded Gabrielle, who bustled in the kitchen. "You like potatoes?"

"Yup."

"Mashed potatoes?"

"Yup."

"Hey Zina, just what were you in jail for?"

"What?"

Gabrielle poked her head out of the kitchen. "Sorry, I’m just curious...Effie told me you were in prison for two and a half years."

Zina sighed. "Yeah...I had all sorts of priors, and, um, when they caught me breaking and entering, I had a gram of coke on me, and uh, the getaway car was stolen..." Well, so much for romance, the tall firefighter thought.

"Wow," Gabrielle said.

"It’s not somethin’ to be impressed with, Gabrielle."

"I’m not...impressed."

"Scared, then?" The firefighter’s blue eyes issued a dangerous challenge.

Gabrielle met it. "No...hell no, I’m not scared. Why should I be?"

Zina said nothing. Gabrielle crossed the room and sat beside her and linked her arm with Zina’s. "Hey, that’s all in the past. I know that. You’re a different person now...you got a good job, you’re doing right." Gabrielle paused. "You’re trying to make up for what you did, right?"

"I...I’m tryin’, but it’s hard." Zina sighed again, and stared down at the orange shag rug. "You don’t know the worst of what I did." A gentle hand touched her chin and guided her gaze back to Gabrielle’s face.

"Tell me, Zina," she requested softly.

"I guess Eff told you...about the house. In Cirra." Zina’s voice was tight.

"It’s true, then?"

Zina nodded. "No one got hurt, but the whole family...they were homeless. They lost everything. They had no insurance neither." She breathed deeply, for the courage to tell Gabrielle the rest of it. "It was my girlfriend’s house, Gabrielle. She lived there with her parents and sister. One day we had fought somethin’ awful, she said she never wanted to see me again, and I just went nuts. Later that night me and a buddy of mine, Artie...we went by the place...I just meant to like, throw eggs or something, but he lit a newspaper on the porch...an’ it just spread..." Another deep breath. "Callie knew, of course. She knew it was me. I even admitted it to her. But the cops could never prove anything, and since she’s always been mad as a hatter anyway, they just never really believed her." She closed her eyes. She thought Gabrielle would jump up, demand that she leave...call the cops, the state troopers....

Instead, she felt the warm sensation of arms wrapping around her, squeezing tightly. And, for the first time in years, since she was a kid, she let herself cry.

*****

After the fair, Lila and Purdy had gone to his place, but much to their dismay they found Gary crashing there—his cash had run out, and he had no place to go. Feelings were still a little raw from the Springer show—not to mention Purdy was understandably scared of his psycho brother—so Lila and Purdy opted to go to Lila’s.

Purdy woke up Saturday morning around 6:30—he had to be in at the garage by 7, so he had just enough time to wash up and grab breakfast from Dunkin’ Donuts. Lila, of course, was out like a light as he climbed out of bed and wandered down the still-dark hallway. To his dismay he noticed that the bathroom was occupied—what the hell was Gabrielle doing up at this hour? He knew that the woman never voluntarily rose before 10am on a weekend. Well, he thought, I’ve seen her on the can before—and he opened the door to find a tall, strange nude woman with damp hair, glaring at him with irritation. "You might try knockin’ next time," she growled. In a panic he slammed the door shut and stood there in the hallway, puzzled as all hell. "Hey!" he shouted through the door. "Who’re you?"

"Shoosh!" hissed Gabrielle, who was suddenly standing behind him. He yelped loudly in surprise. Gabrielle wore a long black t-shirt which hung down to her knees. It’s not like her to dress in black, he thought. "Gabrielle, what the fuck is going on? I hafta get ready for work!" he yelled.

"Quiet! You’ll wake up Lila," she whispered.

"Who is that in the bathroom?" he asked, lowering his voice.

"Her name’s Zina. She’s a...friend."

"We didn’t see anyone on the couch when we came in last night."

"She was sleeping in my room, Purdy."

He frowned, confused. "Where?"

"In my bed, you idiot."

"Where did you sleep?"

She glared at him.

The faint dawn of understanding crossed his dopey features. "Oh...man. Jesus!" He spun on his heel and ran back into Lila’s bedroom.

*****

"You’ve gone queer on me!" Lila wailed.

"Oh for Christ’s sake, Lila..." Gabrielle groaned.

"I knew I shouldn’t have taken Purdy away from you," she blubbered.

"What are you talking about?"

"You’re too sensitive Gab, you always were. Obviously, the shock of it—losing Purdy to me—was too much, and it made you gay."

"Lila, you can’t make people gay. The therapist on Jenny Jones last week said so."

"That’s just crap!" Lila cried. "What’re you gonna tell Ma and Pa?"

Gabrielle shrugged. "The truth, I guess. That I’m happy. That I’m in love. That I’m going back to school and I’m gonna make something out of my life."

*****

Gabrielle recalled how, when she was little, her parents always told her that the lowest of the low lived in trailer parks. And, she had to admit, trailers in general were pretty ugly...although Zina’s was nicely kept and simple. She smiled. I don’t care if we have to live in a tent, as long as we’re together, it doesn’t matter.

They had decided to move in together. Zina had said, with her salary, she could support them both while Gabrielle went to school full time. At first Gabrielle had resisted—she didn’t want to be a charity case—but later reconsidered. She knew she would get a better job with a college degree, or so she hoped. And she could do the same for Zina someday, like if she wanted to retire early...in the meantime she was happy to return to school, cook, clean, and wash Zina’s seemingly endless supply of black t-shirts.

Things got better and better. One day, not long after they had moved in together, Effie showed up after work, in a state of excitement that Gabrielle had never seen her in. "Guess what!" she shrieked.

"What??" Gabrielle squealed in return; the emotion intensified the shrillness factor.

"We got a record deal!!" screamed Effie.

"Oh my GOD you’re kiddin’!!!" They clasped arms and jumped wildly about the trailer so much that Gabrielle was half-afraid the thing would fall off its foundation.

"It’s true, Gab! It’s all ‘cause of Hank, too!" Effie said proudly. "He made a tape of us one night when we were performing at the Saddle, and he sent it to this record company in Memphis!! The dude who owns it—Colonel Tom Artemis, I think his name was—says he wants us to come down and make a record!"

They collapsed on the couch together. "Wow, Eff, that is so cool! I’m so happy! I’ll be your number one fan, always."

Effie turned serious. "Look, honey, I got a favor to ask..."

"Anything, girl. You know that."

"I want you an’ Zina to stay at the farmhouse while we’re gone."

Gabrielle’s jaw dropped.

"Look, you know that house has been in my family for a long time. Well, we’re not gonna be there, at least maybe for a long time...we really want this thing in Memphis to work...and I want someone there, to watch over the place, to take care of it. And I can’t think of anyone better than you two, ‘cause you really are family to me."

"Oh, Effie!"

Together they cried so much that they went through an entire box of Puffs.

*****

They stood outside the trailer. Or rather, Gabrielle stood and Zina paced. "I hope this idea of yours works," the firefighter muttered.

Gabrielle smiled confidently. She had a feeling it would.

A red Camaro swung in the trailer park from the highway. As it careened down the road, the driver’s wild blond hair became visible and the car seemed to gain speed as it approached them. Gabrielle panicked for a moment and thought the driver might kill them. But Zina seemed undisturbed, so she figured it must be okay.

The wild Camaro abruptly stopped a mere three feet in front of the stoic Zina. It had happened so fast Gabrielle didn’t even have time to be afraid. But Zina’s face betrayed nothing as the driver exited gracefully from the car.

She was tall, although not as tall as Zina, thin, wearing a yellow halter top and the shortest pair of cutoffs that Gabrielle had ever seen. "Hello, Zina," she sneered sarcastically.

"Callie," Zina returned the greeting in a hostile, bored tone.

Callie turned her attentions to Gabrielle. "What is this, Little House on the Prairie?"

"Callie..." Zina growled.

"What is it you wanted to see me about, Zina? Or did you want to try to set me on fire this time?"

"I want to give you something, Callie. I know I can never repay you..."

"I’ll say, you firemen don’t make that much...I thought it was pretty funny, Zina, when I heard you became one...I thought, boy, they must be pretty desperate."

"I wanna give you my home, Callie." Zina jerked her thumb toward the trailer. "As payment. For you to do with whatever you want. You can live here. Your parents can live here. Hell, you can set the thing on fire if you want." Zine held up a thick envelope. "I signed it all over to you."

Callie stared at her in disbelief. Then she stared at the trailer and, walking around it, made a slow circular inspection. Then she opened the door of the trailer, and peeked inside at its immaculate emptiness. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she looked at Zina, her sneer firmly back in place.

"So you think," Callie began in a low, menacing voice, "that if you give me this piece of crap, that it’ll make up for everything you’ve done to me, that it’ll equal the loss of my HOME?" she screamed out the last word, which echoed over the park.

Gabrielle winced. Man, she’s even shriller than Eff & I put together.

Zina raised a sculpted dark eyebrow. She held out the envelope to Callie. The crazed brown eyes met the cool blue ones.

Callie blinked, then shrugged. "Okay. What the hell." She snatched the envelope from Zina. Hands on hips, she regarded her new trailer. "Ah...things I could do with this place..." she murmured in delusion.

God, she’s even crazier than Zina said, thought Gabrielle.

"Well, it’s been real, Callie, an’ it’s been fun...but it hasn’t been real fun." Zina started to walk toward her Harley, followed by Gabrielle.

Callie ignored her and idly twirled a strand of her wild hair. She was picturing the exterior of her trailer in day-glo orange.

"That worked out pretty well," Zina commented as she straddled the Harley and started it with a kick. "Thanks, Gabrielle. How’d you come up with that idea anyway?"

Gabrielle tucked her red-gold hair under her helmet and then flung her arms around her companion’s waist. "Oh honey, don’t you worry your pretty little head about it."

Laughing, they tore of out the trailer park together.

THE END

[unholyhelbig]

Mitchsen, carnival maybe? Something super cute.

Check out more Mitchsen one-shots here 

Ice cream dripped against the edge of the girl’s palm, the creamy liquid pooling under the heat of a summer night. The minty color separating each time a new track ran against her elbow. She wasn’t the least bit bothered, not ever deterred by the way it created sticky grime against her.

Beca Mitchell felt her stomach lurch.

Something about kids being sticky, and entering the fairgrounds seemed like a given. There were grease coated fries and powered covered batter that was weaved into an intricate web. It was almost a given that hundreds of messy kids would show up to her booth- and each time, she would force through her disdain and place a leathered softball into the palm of the awaiting player.

The tin cans were rigged; weighted down with little magnets that didn’t’ exactly give away at the small toss from a child. The brunette knowing from the start that all she had to do was manage the tickets- wear the stupid little black t-shirt with the carnival’s logo on it, and make sure that she never had to take down the big prizes.

It was a simple job, one that let her travel up and down the coast. She had constant board and constant companionship, but she always found herself growing exhausted five hours into the night. The small Alabama town that they had settled in didn’t captivate her attention with the type of families they produced.

Her favorite stop so far was in North Carolina. It was a mix between the classic southern folks that yelled too loud at their kids and kept their money in little clips that were decorated with a Confederate flag and the conservative families that looked out of place at a traveling carnival. People who were uptight and wanted to let “loose” by trying their calculated hands at some games.

But in Alabama, it was straight up and simple.

These were people who would get in your face and scream at you the second the heat got too much, and the tin cans didn’t fall the way you wanted them to. The type of people that would offer up money to get the pink horse hanging above the booth because their kid only wants that one.

“This shit is rigged.” The man spoke, his voice gruff.

His daughter barely flinched. She had heard the language before, and Beca did nothing but lean further into the side of the booth, her hands shoved into her pockets as she lifted her eyebrows. “Sorry, sir?”

“I said, this shit is rigged. No way in hell these cans are that hard to hit.”

“Want to give it a shot then?”  

She didn’t’ give him a chance to respond, instead tossing him the leather pleated ball that was in her grasp. She was bored- she would charge him later depending on her anger, but right now she wanted to stir him up, even with the sweat that dripped down her back.

He stumbled but caught it, eyeing her under the baseball cap that covered up his balding hair. He was sunburned where his t-shirt cut off, an uneven tan that was attributed to long days spent in the vast fields here. She thought she saw corn on the way in, or maybe it was cotton. It all looked too green. Too rural.

“I want the dolphin.” The girl finally spoke up, her voice leaking in twang.

Beca couldn’t help but scoff audibly at that. Even if the bottles weren’t plagued with tricks, it would take a near-impossible shot to get anywhere close to the neon sea animal. He seemed to squint his eyes at that and shoot off the ball with an even hit. It got down the top two, something with a little less pull.

“Oh, good job” She smirked, reaching behind the counter as she pulled out a little clear bucket filled with fake spiders and other Knick Knacks. They were little games, a couple of sticker sheets, scented markers. Certainly nothing worth the time and energy. “Better luck next time.”

The man puffed up his chest, crossing his arms before nodding at his daughter to grab one. She quickly snatched up a little ring and shoved it in her pocket before the two of them stalked away. Beca smiled softly to herself before kneeling to pick up the fallen milk bottles.

“So how much for the dolphin, anyway?”

Beca rolled her eyes, breathing in the soupy air without even bothering to turn around as she placed the glass expertly. “Look, like I told your friend back there, you’ve got to knock down all the bottles in order to get it.”

She turned to face the voice: the woman who stood in the place of a want to be cowboy was far different, far more intriguing. Her smile was what Beca noticed first. It was easy going and simple- and then her hair, golden and framing her delicate features that held their curls even in the humid weather. A real southern bell with emerald eyes and damn… Beca Mitchell would take that stuffed dolphin off the hook and give in with little conviction.

“Oh, he’s not my friend.”

“Husband? Brother?” Beca lifted her eyebrows “Oh my god, is he both?”

The girl let out a laugh at that, nothing shy of a giggle. She was in the South now, and part of Beca resigned to the fact that maybe it wasn’t just a joke. Either way, she was eagerly awaiting an answer.

“A Jackass, I’m assuming.” She answered quickly, leaning onto the counter of the booth. She had an easy five-dollar bill under her grasp, one that was crinkled with wear. “I’d like three balls, please. Best ones you’ve got.”

Beca grinned and took the outstretched dollar, tucking it into her apron along with other tickets and stolen money. She produced the items in exchange and took a step back from the area of fire. Part of her felt a twinge of guilt for lying, for once, after this long edge of time.

She had never once felt any malice from the game. These were people that would show up at a fair to have some fun, but they knew they would be spending money too. If it wasn’t at her little booth, then it would be the next: a little sticky hand, a goldfish that wouldn’t live past three days, and even an mp3 player that had a few songs on it. All worth nothing but the thrill of saying you could knock down a few things or get the firefighter to the top of the burning building.

The beautiful stranger threw the first ball, and like Beca expected, nothing. The bottles wavered and she furrowed her brow over dark green eyes. It was endearing.

The second ball didn’t’ bode well, either. This time it knocked down one of the top milk jugs and it fell to the dirt floor with a slight clang- never shattering, but always making enough noise to satisfy the player.

The third ball hit the tent behind the formation, and Beca had the sudden urge to tell the girl that it was fine. That no one really hit the bottles, and even if they did, they wouldn’t fall over. The magnets were too strong.

“I totally just wasted your time,” she said.

“Oh no, a lot of people do,” Beca flushed at how the words sounded “I mean, not that you actually did. Because you didn’t’. It was a valiant effort, and you… you gave it your best shot.”

Her smile was radiant and well earned, those blue-green eyes of her lighting up like the Ferris Wheel that cast its neon glow against cars parked between spray-painted lines. Their tires were sunken in dirt, kicking up near the rims.

She leaned forward and squinted at the nametag that was pinned to a lanyard. There were different things traced onto the fabric by the more creative crew- glitter and simple little drawings. “Thank you, Beca.”

Beca thought it was unfair for the woman to know her name without giving hers, but she breathed in the sweet strawberry scent that she carried and considered it okay for now. Even though she wanted to close down the booth and walk the rest of the fairgrounds with this stranger.

Beca fumbled easily with the plastic bucket. “Anyway, you get to pick a prize.”

“Right,”

The woman scanned her eyes over the different little toys for a few moments before grabbing a purple scented marker. It was one of those artificial ones that reminded Beca of grade school, the kind that one kid that sat up front would always lick, staining their tongue violet. Beca pondered the choice, but not for long before she dug in her pocket and set a dollar bill down on the table.

“ah, it’s actually five dollars to-“

She uncapped the marker with her teeth, letting it pop open as Beca watched with patience. She scrawled something on the money, something the carnival worker couldn’t exactly see before standing up straight and sliding it across the table.

“This shit is so rigged.” She said, grinning ear to ear before stepping away from the little booth and vanishing into the crowd of people pushing to get to greasy snack food and dripping ice cream.

Call me sometime, Aubrey.    

[boohooiamthefool]

Tag Game!

thanks for the tags! @buckbaizen and @borkboofbuchanan i’m pretty sure someone else tagged me but i dont remember who and im sorry about that

Rules: 15 questions, 15 mutuals lol no

um not tagging that many people but if you wanna do it go ahead and tag me: @jurassicbarnes @falseosterhollandfantasies @hemzworth @softthanos @leelybees @tonyintexas @pumpkinsandparker @bucket-barn @fuckyou-imspiderman

1. Are you named after anyone?

lol i’m named after a city in the bible 

2. When is the last time you cried?

last thursday

3. Do you have kids?

no but some lowerclassman call me mom so idk

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

what do you think

5. What’s the first thing you notice about people?

smile, hair, eyes, and laugh

6. What’s your eye colour?

brown

7. Scary movies or Happy Endings?

scary movies all the way since i dont believe in happy endings 

8. Any special talents?

I can sing at any pitch, do voice impressions, sleep for days, and keep some secrets 

9. Where were you born?

in California

10. What are your hobbies?

sleeping, listening to music, reading music, watching movies/shows 

11. Have you any pets?

yes, I had a goldfish named Nemo, a German Shepherd named Kaykay, two birds named Romeo and Juliet, and a English American Bulldog named Zeus (I miss my doggos so much :( )

12. What sports do you play / have played?

i used to do basketball,  volleyball, softball, track and field, shot put, a little bit of football 

13. How tall are you?

5′10

14. Favourite subject in school?

music and human anatomy 

15. Dream job?

to be a firefighter :)

[hollowgroverp]

THE EVENT HAS OFFICIALLY BEGUN!

A few reminders:

There will be no acceptances during the event.

The event will run through the end of day Saturday, May 19th.

Information about the event can be found here. There are plenty of events that will take place over two days in game and you will have a full week to interact during any of these events.

Please run any major plots past us beforehand.

Plot drops will be posted over the next few days to give you activities to plot through. 

Otherwise, have a great time! Let me know if you have any questions.

Hollow Grove Charity Softball Game

The rivalry of this game is rather legendary, every year the Hollow Grove Fire Department and Police stations face off for bragging rights for the year. Coming in after last years last minute win HGFD is feeling a little more than confident this year and HGPD is looking to reclaim their title after last years embarrassing defeat. This year saw a huge increase in volunteer players to help out both departments in their annual rivalry game and there was a lot of talk about who brought in more ringers. 

With star pitcher Jackson Ramos, HGPD thought they might have it in the bag, and while Colton DeForest seemed far less competitive from former years the sheriff appeared to be rather cool and collective. Conspiracy theorist reason it had something to do with his confidence in the team this year but most figured it had to do with the munchkin in the stands. While Colton took a break from the competitive spirit, a newcomer to the HGPD Oliver Hastings was having way too much heckling his older brother Dash Hastings. Between him and Ryder Daniels, its a surprise HGFD could pay any attention. The three are caught roughhousing more than once and poor Maddy Holt found herself breaking up a tussle or two.

Of course, no one would be more distracting than this year's crowd. Alex Traynor and Phoebe Stones found solace in a bottle and it sure did make for an interesting crowd experience. Dinah Diamond, of course, found herself torn between the two teams given how friendly she is with players on both teams but Evie Ducasse’s loyalties clearly lie with HGFD judging by the adorable firefighter outfit her little guy was in. 

The first few innings proved to be entertaining, to say the least. Nicholas Adler was proving himself to be both an asset and liability, while his skills were great, how easily he was distracted by a pretty girl was starting to cause all sort of problems when he’d get pulled away to flirt with one woman or another. Then, of course, who could forget last years loss at the hands of Isabelle Cresswell. HGPD did their best to put her in the least harmful position but HGFD seemed more than eager to take advantage and between her and Ava Bishop, the two girls are causing point after point to the fire department. The first half of the game seems to be going considerably well for HGFD and it looks like for a moment they have it in the bag. 

Then who could forget Jacob Thorne and Ryan Carroll’s friendly banter? The competition between the two jokesters was unavoidable. That was of course until a line drive with a little too much power nailed Jake square in the stomach mid-joke at the top of the fifth inning. 

Rushing him off the field, the games pause for a moment as Emma Sawyer gets right to work on checking out Jacob. The lull in the crowd seems to cause some unrest and out of sheer boredom and what appears to be a tradition in its self, Phoebe Stones decides to streak across the field leading to the game taking a break. 

With the focus on Phoebe for a moment, no one noticed Isabelle and Cassie Cresswell talking slightly heated along the edges of the bleachers, that was until Caleb Hunter’s newfound wolf senses caught him ease dropping on his girlfriend and her sister. What he heard next though was certainly alarming. Issy was pregnant, the shock alone caused Caleb to fall off the bleachers, hitting his head and causing yet another rustle in the crowd. At Emma’s request, Issy and loaded him up and the two headed off to the hospital. 

The game soon picked up once more and with one bad player gone, things were looking up for HGPD. The PD keeps creeping ahead, one hit at a time until their almost ten points ahead. That is until they bring in Nate Hastings to pitch. Things start to look up fire department once up and slowly but surely Nate’s pitching helps them gain some ground. In the seventh inning and he finds himself face staring down Sophie Vidales. She knocks it into left field and speeds off towards first. Matt Andrews fires the ball to Eric Blake and it's a close call but the FD cheers when they hear the words. “YOUR OUT!” Lucy Danvers and Sophie instantly start yelling over the bad call, Abraham Johnson quickly finds himself stepping in after letting the two women tear apart the umpire for a moment. Despite the few bad calls, HGPD managed to rally and quickly retook the game. 

It’s the bottom of the ninth and HGFD is up to bat. At this point, HGPD is up by 2 points and HGFD has Matt Andrews and Eric Blake on second and third and Billie Lawson is up to bat. HGPD is acting like they have it in the bag at this point. Arrogantly, they forgot to take into consideration how quick Billie was. A decent hit was enough to get Matt and Eric in but in their attempt to stop them from getting home the Police department missed Billie speeding around the bases. A catch gone uncaught has her rounding third and heading to home. The crowd is screaming and both dugouts are yelling at the small brunette heads for home base.

The crowd pauses in anticipation, who would be this year's winner of the rivalry softball game? Would Billie seal another win for the HGFD or would the trophy return to its former home at the HGPD. Everyone is on their feet to see the call. 

“SAFE”

The winner of the HGPD vs HGFD charity softball game is………….. Hollow Grove Fire Department!

BACHELOR AUCTION:

“Thank you for all your generous bids, your support for the children has been overwhelming! This year's highest-earning basket was Basket Sixteen, Mr. Lukas Blackwell! The winners of the baskets are as follows:”

Basket 1: Jackson Ramos was won by Avery Carter-Wate

Basket 2: Nate Hastings was won by Ava Bishop 

Basket 3: Nathaniel Greyson was won by Genevieve Beauchamp

Basket 4: Caleb Hunter was won by Phoebe Stones

Basket 5: Abraham Johnson was won by Luna Shaw

Basket 6:  Cain King was won by Ally Bishop

Basket 7:  Ryder Daniels was won by Michaela Wayland 

Basket 8:  Zane Hartman was won by Catherine Carmichael

Basket 9: Lukas Blackwell was won by Madge Knight

Basket 10: Scout Matthews  was won by Caroline Carrier

Basket 11: Jett Danvers was won by Imogen Mastrano

Basket 12: James Thatch was won by Evie Ducasse

Basket 13: Adam Haley was won by Alexandra Cunningham

Basket 14: Nicholas Adler was won by Billie Lawson

Basket 15: Oliver Hastings was won by Savannah Daniels

Basket 16: Jacob Thorne was won by Maddy Holt

Basket 17:  Eric Blake was won by Cassie Cresswell

Basket 18: Jayce Sterling was won by Victoria Hernandez

Basket 19: Rhysor O’Callan was won by Dinah Diamond 

Basket 20:  Colton DeForest was won by  Summer Hart 

Basket 21: Liam Ainsworth was won by Sophie Vidales

Basket 22: Dash Hastings was won by Ria Desai

Special Note: We had a lot of bids in comparison to baskets, for this reason, we made a special point of making sure that each player had at least one character that would have at least one pairing. Meaning if you have multiple characters, we apologize, we just didn’t have the resources to pair everyone but at least one of your characters should be included in some kind of pairing

[braincoins]

I'm not an anti. I'm really just not invested in Voltron to be coming for ppl like that over a ship, but I am someone who think age gaps are tricky. Like real life what would a 27 year old want with an 18 year old? The stages that theyre in, in life is so different. Im 23 and I cringe at the thought of dating an 18 year old. I've been hit on my them, and I'm like lol your a fetus? Yeah it's just me, or whatever, but I just think it's hella weird. But an 30 yr old and a 39 year old? Makes sense.

Ask/rant cont. Like my bro (25 at the time) was "talking" to an 18 year old and the shade he got from my fam was other wordly lol. So yeah, sure your not a pedophile, but I see why ppl are uncomfortable with it. Especially in American culture (I'm Nigerian) where age and relationship dynamics are so important until otherwise inconvenient (i.e. US senators messing with 17 and 18 year olds, they creepin) I ain't draggin ships, or VAs (who the hell?) but I definitely have my NOTPs. Good day.

The first thing I want to say to you, Brave Anon, is thank you and to reassure you that you’re not going to get attacked here. At least, not from me. I know this fandom can be a scary place sometimes. I thank you for feeling comfortable enough to send me this ask.

Age gaps absolutely can be a problematic thing, but it’s not purely because of the age. You hit the nail on the head comparing an 18 year old dating a 27 year old versus a 30 year old dating a 39 year old. The difference is life experience (as you mentioned).

An 18 year old doesn’t have the same level of life experience that a 27 year old has. Most 27 year olds have their own place (defined as: not living with their family), a job (or 2 or 3 nowadays), and bills. They have to buy their own groceries, do their own cooking, cleaning, and laundry. They have more interpersonal experience in general, whether that be with work colleagues, friends, or romantic/sexual partners. 

An 18 year old might still be living at home, or else they’re at college. They’re unlikely to be living in an apartment or home that they have to pay monthly bills for. They’re less likely to have that 9 years of taking care of themselves and their own responsibilities, and they definitely don’t have the same level of interpersonal experience that a 27 year old does.

Is it possible that a 27 year old and an 18 year old could have enough in common to overcome that life experience gap and have an equitable and equal partnership? Sure; in this life, anything’s possible. But is it likely? NOT VERY. The odds are not in your favor with that sort of setup.

But even though the 30 & 39 year old have that same age gap, they don’t have the same life experience gap. They’re both used to being responsible for themselves, they’re both pretty well-traveled in life by now. The chances of an equal partnership are much, much greater now. 

But, on the other hand, my dad and my stepmom have been married for …25 years now? Close to it, anyway. When they got married, my stepmom was 28 and my dad was 45. But they had a lot of shared life experience: she was a firefighter and he was a cop (they met at an accident scene - how romantic). They both play softball and like staying active. They have similar outlooks on life. The age gap - as extreme as it was - didn’t matter as much. Dad’s previous two wives (one of them being my mom, of course) were both much closer to him in age, but they didn’t share the same life experience.

Now, all of that being said, age gap pairings (say in the 18 y.o & 27 y.o. type mentioned above) in fiction tend to squick me unless they’re done very, very well and I tend to look for a reason that age gap exists. Why do these characters need that age gap? What is the author saying about the difference in life experiences of these characters? Usually what the author’s saying about it is something I don’t care to hear, so I avoid it. If someone ships, for example, Sh//idge, that’s well and good. They can keep right on doing that, but I’m not interested in it. Just very much not my thing. (Even if you age them up; I see that as a more sibling-esque relationship, personally.) But I’m not going to go yell at them about it. 

And this is why you are not an anti, Brave Anon, and neither am I. I prefer to define myself as being For something, rather than against something else. Antis are AGAINST and their immediate response to what they are Against is to attack it and anyone who doesn’t also attack it on sight. Just saying “Uh, no thanks, not my cup of tea,” isn’t enough for them. You have to lash out, you have to take down.

Being an anti just seems so violent and performative. It centers your identity on hating and destroying, and I’m just too old for that. It’s why, even though I don’t like the antis and their tactics, I don’t define myself as an anti-anti. I’d rather use my limited energy on creating more of what I love than spending it on hating others.

I hope, Brave Anon, that this day brings you more of what you love and less of what stresses you, worries you, or makes you upset. And if you have any more questions or comments, feel free to ask! :) *offers hugs & cookies*