thinking about hybrid puppy dennis who is just so so happy to see robby after a long day, and so excited to get pets and kisses and snuggles, that his tail wags so fast and with so much force that he pulls a muscle in it, and yelps from the pain.
robby watches his wiggly puppy suddenly stop panting and jumping up at him where they're stood in the hallway, and sees how his ears flatten on his head and his eyes fill with big, sad tears. robby instantly knows its another tail injury for his poor pup, dennis having a tendency to get too excited and lose control.
he immediately drops his bag and gathers the sniffling, teary puppy in his arms and ushers him to the sofa, carefully taking the now limp tail in his hand and cooing. dennis hides his face in his owners neck and cries big fat tears as robby tries to soothe him.
he uses firm fingers to gently massage the base of his boy's tail, rubbing back and forth to try and loosen the tension and pain.
"ohhhh, sweetie pie, I'm so sorry, it's okay baby, you're okay... you just got a little too excited, hey? that's okay, daddy's here, daddy will make it all better, puppy-baby... you just focus on cuddling up to owner, and I'll help your poor little tail."
the puppy wept for a few minutes more, evening ruined by the twinges and shocks of his strained tail muscles, and clung to his owner like a lifeline. the massage did feel good, and owner would make him all better.
gradually, gradually, the pain began to ease somewhat, and the upset hybrid began to calm. his daddy had him, his daddy was carefully fixing him and making sure his golden, fluffy tail would be able to wag happily again soon. he snuggled his face closer and flicked his ears against robby's face, a quiet little show of thanks.
"you're okay, pup, good boy. you're such a good boy for being so so brave while owner helps you. I know, sweetie, I know, oh it hurts, hey? don't worry little one, I've got you... see, you're already loosening up, I can see that pretty tail try and wiggle!"
it was true- dennis was able to carefully wag his tail again, but only slowly and softly, not his usual style. but his owner was kissing on his downy ears and cooing at his puppy huffs against his neck, making him feel like such a good dog despite the pain.
he barked and yipped weakly, and robby tucked him closer, still rubbing his tail.
"the best boy, truly my best puppy dog... that's right denny, you're such a special pup. just let owner keep making you feel better, there's a good boy..."
Robby’s not someone who is big on kissing. He doesn’t hate it, he just… he’s not as into it as some of his previous partners were.
But Dennis loves it. He loves sitting in Robby’s lap and just kissing. It’s one of his favorite ways to show he loves his boyfriend so so much. Slowly, Robby finds himself seeking them out. Pulling Dennis into a supply closet and making out with him so that he can get his fix of his favorite resident.
I cannot fucking deal with my uncle right now. He’s usually a great guy and I love talking to him, we’re really close. But yesterday he and I got into a squabble about the Palestinian Genocide (in which he repeatedly used the phrase “the arabs”) and today it was about AI. Both times I made pretty solid arguments imo and cited sources but he always refuses to budge. He barely even responds to my arguments. During yesterdays argument he kept saying I’m too young to know what I’m talking about, and that since I’m young I shouldn’t worry about that stuff.
I’ve always been politically active and he knows this. I think he was just saying it because he didn’t want to be wrong.
Its sad when you see people you’ve looked up to for so long show their failings in such obvious ways. It also speaks to the failure of the federal government to provide adequate funding for education in the deep south.
Summary: Simon wakes up after being rescued and is a bit confused…
Words: 1k
Slowly, Simon woke up. He didn’t know exactly what he expected, but he did know that it involved pain. Everything did. His mother died in pain, so did he. And after everything, he expected to wake up in pain. In hell, just as he believed he deserved.
But the lights were soft, a pale yellow glow surrounding him. He was warm and comfortable, lying on a soft mattress. He remembered some of the oldest people at Eden talking about before the Quiet Rapture, about such luxuries as soft beds. He understood the longing in their voices now. He never wanted to leave.
He was clean, miraculously. He can’t even remember the last time he was clean. Even the underside of his fingernails were free of grime. But still, only one arm. Fuck. His chest tightened at the memory of watching his arm rip off, remaining on the bar. He shuddered. He looked around, pulling himself up into a sitting position. The room was white, but not to an upsetting degree. Heaven had a waiting room, apparently.
There’s an IV in him, which is probably part of the reason why he doesn’t feel like shit. His formerly ever-present headache is gone, which shocks him. His hair is washed, and tied back neatly. He’s dressed in a soft navy blue sweater and cream cotton pants. He kinda expected all white in Heaven, but hey, what did he know.
The door slides open. Simon’s eyes widen.
Oh, the elders were right. The angels are beautiful. Blonde with tan skin and kind blue eyes framed by wire glasses. Did angels need glasses? Maybe it was just a personal thing.
“I’m really glad you’ve woken up.” His voice was gentle, like he was talking to a scared animal. Not too far from Simon’s baseline, honestly. Scared and feral. “My name is Grace.”
Of course his name would be Grace. Maybe the others would be named Faith or Patience or something.
“I’m Simon. But you probably already knew that.” Grace got a weird, almost confused smile on his face. “Is this… uh… real?” His voice shook.
He remembers the women’s voices, screaming and howling at him and Ava and the world. What if this was just another hallucination? He couldn’t afford that fuckass eel hurting him again.
Grace’s face crumples in worry and sympathy. He reaches out and touches Simon’s hand. His breath hitches. Oh, my God, he’s so warm.
“This is real. I’m real. You’re safe, Simon.” At Grace’s assurances, Simon begins to cry. He was safe. Holy shit, he was safe. It was such an unattainable thing, but he had it now. He was safe and he didn’t need to worry anymore. When had he ever had that?
Sure, he was a bit upset that he was dead, after doing so much and wanting so badly to live, but if this was what awaited him for eternity, he wasn’t that upset. Softness, angels, and safety was something he dreamed of. Now he had it. Arms wrapped around him, comforting him.
“I know, it’s a lot. It took me a while, too.” Simon was too focused on the fact that he was being held for the first time in years to really care about that last part. He clung on, and Grace seemed to not care. He squeezed Simon lightly, and Simon never wanted him to let go.
He turned to hug Grace tighter, and the IV pulled suddenly. Pain tore up his arm, and he yelped. Grace quickly apologized despite the issue being entirely not his fault, but Simon stared at the origin of the pain. What the fuck?
“Simon, are you okay?” Grace sounded panicked.
“Why can I feel pain?”
There’s a beat of silence. “Can you not usually?” Grace asks tentatively.
“Of course I can, but… I don’t know, I just assumed that you wouldn’t feel pain after death. That seems like an oversight.” Maybe he was looking a gift horse in the mouth, but he was really confused. Grace, however, appeared to be much more confused.
“After— huh?”
“I mean, I’m obviously dead, I just thought… Nevermind. I can deal with it, it’s fine.” If this was a test to see if he was a good enough person for Heaven, he might be well on his way to failing. Grace was staring at him like he had six heads. Fuck, maybe he did. Who knows what that eel did to him.
“Simon… you’re not dead.”
“Of course I am. This is Heaven, and you’re an angel. I’m not stupid.” Grace flushed red, his mouth opening and closing as if not sure what to say. His voice came out at least an octave higher.
“Why do you think I’m an angel, exactly?”
“You’re— Well, you’re gorgeous,” Grace made a weird squeak, “and your name is literally Grace.” This seemed more than enough evidence for Simon, but Grace just seemed amused.
“Grace is my last name. My name is Ryland Grace. I am not an angel, but thank you.”
“Oh. Well, uhm, sorry about the gorgeous comment, then. I mean, you are, but—“ Simon wanted to hit himself. His first human contact since COI and this was how he was handling it? Wonderful. He took a deep breath. “If I’m not in Heaven, where am I? What station am I on?”
Unfortunately, Ryland’s face twisted in confusion again. “Station? What, like ISS?”
“What’s ISS? I mean, like, is this a COI station or…?”
“ISS, like, International Space Station. Wait, sorry, you’re human, right?” It felt like they were speaking different dialects; they could understand the main points of what the other was saying, but the details were lost in translation.
“Of course I’m human! Aren’t you?!”
“Yes, I am human. I just didn’t know if you just looked human, since we seem to be on… wildly different pages.” That’s one way to put it.
“Okay. That’s fair. So, if I’m not on a space station, where am I?” Is this some rogue ship?
“You’re on a planet called Erid.”
Simon stared at him. Grace begins talking more, about someone named Rocky, about a million different things, but Simon cuts him off.
There’s a continuous bet going of how many times he’ll bring her up in one day. And of course his eyes always brighten when her name (or even just the words “my wife”) leave his lips.
He keeps a photo of her in his pocket, a polaroid of her smiling all big and pure. His heart stutters a bit every time he looks at it. When things get really tough, he’ll take a few minutes to himself, just in the bathroom or break room, staring at the picture. Better yet, he sometimes gets to call her. Even if she doesn’t pick up, just the sound of her voice in the voicemail makes everything seem a bit better.
When he starts getting a steady stream of income, she gets flowers weekly, no matter what. She mentioned her favorite flowers on the first date and he never forgot it.
He’s head over heels for you, and everyone has to know it.
"It was a really rough time for him because before that [...] he was living in gyms or other vacant sort of places, like on floors of people's abodes. So it was a really tough time. I think he thought he was past all that so it really got him quite badly when Joy brought that up."
- Gerran Howell talking about Dennis's homelessness being brought up by Joy this season :(
I’m picturing that scene in Black Doves when Ben Whishaw explodes someone with a shotgun. Gerran is Ben Whishaw and we are being exploded because what the FUCK, man.
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