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We do hope to have another one out soon, and there's still one in timed exclusive land, but our writing has been somewhat inconsistent so there are no promises on new content.\n", "description_bbcode_parsed": "Heyo, watcherland!

So here's our next bonus story, the last in our semi-regular releases. We do hope to have another one out soon, and there's still one in timed exclusive land, but our writing has been somewhat inconsistent so there are no promises on new content.
", "writing": "[center]Blown Bridges[/center]\n\nOBLIGATORY CONTENT WARNING: No actual sex in this one, but some themes of HOMOPHOBIA. If that might be difficult to read, maybe give this one a pass. Otherwise… enjoy!\n\n\n \nA small smile crossed Gregory Jennings’s face as he taxied his Cessna to the runway. Nothing could keep the fox out of the sky. \n\nFor over twenty years he’d been a pilot in the Air Force, first flying fighters, working his way up command, only retiring from the military when command wanted him out of the pilot’s seat. Working as a commercial airline pilot flying out of Hartford didn’t have the same adrenaline rush as a fighter, but it still meant flying, and that was what mattered. He certainly didn’t complain about the work. It was less thrilling, sure, but less dangerous, even if he had hundreds of lives in his paws each week.\n\nAnd here he was, on his day off, flying his private plane. Some days he’d bring his wife or one of his kits up, but today he was flying solo.\n\nHis smile widened as he reached his take-off point. His heart beat faster as his plane rushed towards the end of the runway. His stomach leapt as the wheels left the ground, his field of view now dominated by clear blue sky.\n\nGregory allowed himself a joyous laugh as his plane gained altitude. Flying still gave him the same thrill in his 50’s as it had in his early 20’s, when he first found himself behind the controls of an aircraft. The single engine ultralight was nothing compared to an F-16 or an F-22, but it was far more nimble than a 737.\n\nHe banked, then did a quick barrel roll, laughing the entire time. Not quite like his beloved F-16, but good enough for a civilian aircraft, and Gregory knew his plane well. He’d been flying her almost every day off since he bought her two years ago. \n\nOnce he had dared some acrobatic maneuvers with their son Miles, and the boy had loved it. The scolding he’d gotten from his wife afterwards when he told her about it was worth it for the pure, unadulterated joy that he’d gotten that day with his kit. The girls were older, more “mature,” and never wanted to do it. Maybe Miles would follow his pawsteps and take to the skies himself one day.\n\nThe fox looked out the window and down at the ground below. Everything looked so small from up here. He flew over his neighborhood, spying as he always did his house from a respectful altitude. He let out a soft sigh as he turned the plane around and headed back for the small civilian airstrip where he based his aircraft. It was much less of a hassle flying out of there than Bradley. He liked the freedom of not having to worry about air traffic control.\n\nAs he approached, he radioed the ground to make sure the runway was clear, then brought his plane in. His smile only faltered slightly as the wheels touched the ground again. He slowed the craft and taxied back to his plane’s allotted parking spot.\n\nKenny, the airport’s current operator, greeted him as he stepped from the plane.\n\n“Good flight, Greg?” he asked.\n\n“Always,” Gregory replied. “Nothing beats the air.”\n\nThey shook paws as they always did after a flight and exchanged a round of pleasantries before the fox made his way out of the airport. His stomach grumbled. Maybe a little stop for lunch was in order.\n \nHe climbed into his car and wound his way through the quiet suburban streets to his favorite fast food joint. A cheeseburger sounded like a perfect ending after his flight.\n\nWhen he pulled into the parking lot, he spied a few teens in the outdoor seating area. A twinge of disgust washed over him when he saw two girls making out. “Damned dykes,” he muttered. As he looked, though, his eyes widened. That couldn’t be…\n\nGregory stopped his car abruptly and stared. That was EXACTLY who he feared it was. His disgust turned to rage as he pulled his car into one of the parking spots, threw it into park, and got out.\n\n“Colleen Abigail Jennings, what the FUCK do you think you’re doing?!” he barked.\n\nThe girls separated abruptly. The pink haired folf stared at him incredulously. “Dad?”\n\nThe fox stormed over to the teens. The boys backed away from Colleen as he approached. “What the FUCK?!” he cried. “I raised you better than this! How dare you!” Words were inadequate to describe the anger he felt in that moment. The betrayal. It was bad enough that his mother had left his father for a female, but for his own daughter to be a lesbian? That was too much.\n\nHis daughter stood up and glared back at him. “What the fuck is wrong with YOU? It’s not like we were having sex, Dad!”\n\n“No daughter of mine is going to be some filthy dyke whore,” Gregory yelled. “Get in my car, now!”\n\n“What?! No!” Colleen replied. “I’m going to stay here with my friends.”\n\nHow dare she?! Gregory choked down his anger for just a moment, though his brow remained furrowed. “Young lady, if you want to still have somewhere to live, then you get in my car,” he said in his most dangerously calm voice.\n\nHer eyes widened. “You… you wouldn’t,” she muttered. Even her girlfriend was backing away now.\n\n“Try me,” Greg said. He paws balled into fists.\n\nThe folf looked around at her friends. None of them would look at her. They knew better than to mess with ex-military. She groaned and grabbed her purse.\n\n“I hate you, Dad,” she said as she walked past him towards his car.\n\nGregory marched behind his daughter as she obediently got into his car. “And I hate what you’ve become,” he said.\n\nHis hunger quite forgotten, Gregory got back into his car and drove home in steely silence. Colleen refused to look at him for the entire drive.\n \nWhen he pulled into the driveway, he looked at his daughter. “You’re grounded for the rest of the year.”\n\n“Fuck you,” his daughter replied.\n\nHe frowned. “Grounded for the rest of the school year.”\n\n“That’s not fair!” she spat.\n\n“Do you want to be grounded for the rest of your life?” he asked.\n\nShe turned to look at him. “Once I turn eighteen you can’t control me anymore.”\n\n“I don’t have to let you live in my house, either,” he said. “Do you want to be on the streets?”\n\nColleen sighed and got out of the car. Gregory followed. As they reached the front door, he cut in front of her and held out his paw.\n\n“Your cell phone. Give it to me,” he said.\n\nHis daughter stared at her like he had three heads. “What?!”\n\n“I’m taking it away,” he said. “I don’t want you talking to that… girl… ever again.”\n\nShe glared at him. “We go to the same school. You can’t stop me.”\n\n“I’ll switch your school, too, then,” Gregory said. “Now hand it over.”\n\n“And if I refuse?” she asked.\n\n“Then I take your line off the family plan, and you can go live on the street,” Greg said.\n\nThe folf hesitated. After a few long moments, she let out another long-suffering sigh, produced her phone from her purse, and handed it over, then burst through the front door and ran to her room. He could hear her start crying as she ran upstairs.\n\nHis wife approached him as he closed the door behind him. “Greg? What happened?”\n\nThe fox sighed. “Our daughter is grounded, and we need to change her school.”\n\n“What happened?” she asked.\n\nGreg bit his lip. “Jennifer… I caught her… kissing another girl…”\n\nHis wife blinked. “That… that’s it?”\n\nHe shot her a glare. “Not you, too.”\n\nJennifer sighed. “I’ll let you ground her, but I’m not switching schools. Just… please, think about what you’re doing.”\n\nThe wolf returned to the den before Gregory could continue the conversation. “There’s nothing to think about!” he called after her.\n\nThe fox shook his head and went down into the basement. His sanctuary. He walked over to his gun safe and pulled out one of his pistols. Maybe cleaning his weapons would help him clear his head.\n\nFour guns later, and he was still just as put out. He needed a sanity check. The fox threw himself into his easy chair and pulled out his cell. If there was one fur he could trust to take his side, it’d be his younger brother.\n\n“Hey, Reggie,” Nick said when he answered the phone.\n\n“Hey, Nicky,” Gregory said. “Got a few to chat?”\n\n“I’m on a job site right now,” his brother said. “Is it important?”\n\nGregory sighed. “It is, if you can spare the time.”\n\n“Alright, give me a second,” Nick replied. A few moments of silence fell between the two. “Alright, I’m in my truck. What’s up?”\n\nThe fox bit his lip. “I had quite the day today and needed to get a second opinion on something.”\n\n“Must be big if you’re asking me for advice,” Nick said.\n\n“It is,” Greg said. “Nicky, you’ve got a daughter… what would you do if you caught her kissing another girl?”\n\nHis brother was quiet for a moment. “I… I don’t know, honestly,” he said. “Did you catch one of your girls doing it?”\n\n“Colleen,” Gregory replied. “Caught her making out with another girl.”\n\nNick was quiet again. “Greg… I know it’s hard, especially after mom, but… you do know that lesbians exist, right?”\n\n“Of course I do!” Gregory replied. “I’m not stupid.”\n\n“Of course not, I’m not suggesting that,” Nick said. “But… well, maybe this is a good time to do some soul searching. One of my wife’s best friends is a lesbian, and she’s lovely. They really aren’t that bad when you get to know them.”\n\n“What about grandkits?” Gregory said. He knew it was a weak argument, but he needed something.\n\n“Grandkits? Colleen’s a hybrid. You and I both know what that means,” Nick said.\n\nDamned hybrid infertility. Gregory growled. “Am I the only one seeing the problem here?”\n\n“You might be, Reggie,” Nick said. “I’ve been thinking about mom lately, myself. Ever since Dad passed, you know? I was thinking, it might be nice to try to bury the hatchet.”\n\n“Traitor,” Gregory muttered.\n\n“Hey, maybe you paid your bills blowing up bridges, but I prefer building them,” Nick said. “Sure, I’m not the engineering type, but building things up instead of destroying them can be good for the soul. Maybe you should try it sometime.”\n\nThe elder fox sighed. “I’ll think about it…”\n\n“You were always better at that than me,” Nick teased.\n\nGregory chuckled. “Yeah, and you were always the emotional one. It’s why I turn to you for these things.”\n\nThe brothers shared a laugh. “Was there anything else?” Nick asked.\n\nThe elder fox shook his head, not that his brother could see it. “Nah. I guess I just have some thinking to do.”\n\n“It’ll be okay,” Nick said. He paused for a few seconds. “Love you, big bro.”\n\n“Love you too, Nicky,” Gregory said. That was one thing he could rely on his brother for: emotional support. Even if he didn’t say what Gregory wanted, he at least had the emotional perspective that the elder fox sorely lacked. “I’ll talk to you later.”\n\n“Later, Reggie,” Nick said.\n\nGregory sighed as he hung up the phone. This was all so wild. But maybe Nick had a point. He bit his tongue as he brought up Facebook on his phone. \n\nFinding Terry couldn’t be that easy, could it? He did a search. The first few results didn’t seem fruitful. He kept scrolling, though, and soon found one that seemed right on the money. She looked just like her. Different last name, but it rang a bell. Wasn’t Langley the last name of one of those boys she was always running around with as a kit? It’d be wild if she married him. Only one way to find out if it was really her. Her profile was private, so there wasn’t much he could access, but he did have one option, if he was daring: a friend request.\n\nThat felt like a bridge too far. They hadn’t talked in almost twenty years. But something about what Nick said was eating at him. How many bridges had he bombed during his career? Only three of those, though there were far more targets of questionable military importance: hospitals, mosques, apartment blocks. How much destruction had he sown in Kosovo, in Afghanistan, in Iraq?\n\nHe grabbed a bottle of whiskey and poured himself a glass, then downed it far too quickly. His paw trembled as he went to pour another, but he stopped himself. No, getting drunk wasn’t going to solve anything, and he had work in the morning. Best not to be hungover for his flight.\n\nThe fox groaned and looked back at his phone, then sent the friend request. All that was left to do was wait.", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "
Blown Bridges


OBLIGATORY CONTENT WARNING: No actual sex in this one, but some themes of HOMOPHOBIA. If that might be difficult to read, maybe give this one a pass. Otherwise… enjoy!


 
A small smile crossed Gregory Jennings’s face as he taxied his Cessna to the runway. Nothing could keep the fox out of the sky.

For over twenty years he’d been a pilot in the Air Force, first flying fighters, working his way up command, only retiring from the military when command wanted him out of the pilot’s seat. Working as a commercial airline pilot flying out of Hartford didn’t have the same adrenaline rush as a fighter, but it still meant flying, and that was what mattered. He certainly didn’t complain about the work. It was less thrilling, sure, but less dangerous, even if he had hundreds of lives in his paws each week.

And here he was, on his day off, flying his private plane. Some days he’d bring his wife or one of his kits up, but today he was flying solo.

His smile widened as he reached his take-off point. His heart beat faster as his plane rushed towards the end of the runway. His stomach leapt as the wheels left the ground, his field of view now dominated by clear blue sky.

Gregory allowed himself a joyous laugh as his plane gained altitude. Flying still gave him the same thrill in his 50’s as it had in his early 20’s, when he first found himself behind the controls of an aircraft. The single engine ultralight was nothing compared to an F-16 or an F-22, but it was far more nimble than a 737.

He banked, then did a quick barrel roll, laughing the entire time. Not quite like his beloved F-16, but good enough for a civilian aircraft, and Gregory knew his plane well. He’d been flying her almost every day off since he bought her two years ago.

Once he had dared some acrobatic maneuvers with their son Miles, and the boy had loved it. The scolding he’d gotten from his wife afterwards when he told her about it was worth it for the pure, unadulterated joy that he’d gotten that day with his kit. The girls were older, more “mature,” and never wanted to do it. Maybe Miles would follow his pawsteps and take to the skies himself one day.

The fox looked out the window and down at the ground below. Everything looked so small from up here. He flew over his neighborhood, spying as he always did his house from a respectful altitude. He let out a soft sigh as he turned the plane around and headed back for the small civilian airstrip where he based his aircraft. It was much less of a hassle flying out of there than Bradley. He liked the freedom of not having to worry about air traffic control.

As he approached, he radioed the ground to make sure the runway was clear, then brought his plane in. His smile only faltered slightly as the wheels touched the ground again. He slowed the craft and taxied back to his plane’s allotted parking spot.

Kenny, the airport’s current operator, greeted him as he stepped from the plane.

“Good flight, Greg?” he asked.

“Always,” Gregory replied. “Nothing beats the air.”

They shook paws as they always did after a flight and exchanged a round of pleasantries before the fox made his way out of the airport. His stomach grumbled. Maybe a little stop for lunch was in order.
 
He climbed into his car and wound his way through the quiet suburban streets to his favorite fast food joint. A cheeseburger sounded like a perfect ending after his flight.

When he pulled into the parking lot, he spied a few teens in the outdoor seating area. A twinge of disgust washed over him when he saw two girls making out. “Damned dykes,” he muttered. As he looked, though, his eyes widened. That couldn’t be…

Gregory stopped his car abruptly and stared. That was EXACTLY who he feared it was. His disgust turned to rage as he pulled his car into one of the parking spots, threw it into park, and got out.

“Colleen Abigail Jennings, what the FUCK do you think you’re doing?!” he barked.

The girls separated abruptly. The pink haired folf stared at him incredulously. “Dad?”

The fox stormed over to the teens. The boys backed away from Colleen as he approached. “What the FUCK?!” he cried. “I raised you better than this! How dare you!” Words were inadequate to describe the anger he felt in that moment. The betrayal. It was bad enough that his mother had left his father for a female, but for his own daughter to be a lesbian? That was too much.

His daughter stood up and glared back at him. “What the fuck is wrong with YOU? It’s not like we were having sex, Dad!”

“No daughter of mine is going to be some filthy dyke whore,” Gregory yelled. “Get in my car, now!”

“What?! No!” Colleen replied. “I’m going to stay here with my friends.”

How dare she?! Gregory choked down his anger for just a moment, though his brow remained furrowed. “Young lady, if you want to still have somewhere to live, then you get in my car,” he said in his most dangerously calm voice.

Her eyes widened. “You… you wouldn’t,” she muttered. Even her girlfriend was backing away now.

“Try me,” Greg said. He paws balled into fists.

The folf looked around at her friends. None of them would look at her. They knew better than to mess with ex-military. She groaned and grabbed her purse.

“I hate you, Dad,” she said as she walked past him towards his car.

Gregory marched behind his daughter as she obediently got into his car. “And I hate what you’ve become,” he said.

His hunger quite forgotten, Gregory got back into his car and drove home in steely silence. Colleen refused to look at him for the entire drive.
 
When he pulled into the driveway, he looked at his daughter. “You’re grounded for the rest of the year.”

“Fuck you,” his daughter replied.

He frowned. “Grounded for the rest of the school year.”

“That’s not fair!” she spat.

“Do you want to be grounded for the rest of your life?” he asked.

She turned to look at him. “Once I turn eighteen you can’t control me anymore.”

“I don’t have to let you live in my house, either,” he said. “Do you want to be on the streets?”

Colleen sighed and got out of the car. Gregory followed. As they reached the front door, he cut in front of her and held out his paw.

“Your cell phone. Give it to me,” he said.

His daughter stared at her like he had three heads. “What?!”

“I’m taking it away,” he said. “I don’t want you talking to that… girl… ever again.”

She glared at him. “We go to the same school. You can’t stop me.”

“I’ll switch your school, too, then,” Gregory said. “Now hand it over.”

“And if I refuse?” she asked.

“Then I take your line off the family plan, and you can go live on the street,” Greg said.

The folf hesitated. After a few long moments, she let out another long-suffering sigh, produced her phone from her purse, and handed it over, then burst through the front door and ran to her room. He could hear her start crying as she ran upstairs.

His wife approached him as he closed the door behind him. “Greg? What happened?”

The fox sighed. “Our daughter is grounded, and we need to change her school.”

“What happened?” she asked.

Greg bit his lip. “Jennifer… I caught her… kissing another girl…”

His wife blinked. “That… that’s it?”

He shot her a glare. “Not you, too.”

Jennifer sighed. “I’ll let you ground her, but I’m not switching schools. Just… please, think about what you’re doing.”

The wolf returned to the den before Gregory could continue the conversation. “There’s nothing to think about!” he called after her.

The fox shook his head and went down into the basement. His sanctuary. He walked over to his gun safe and pulled out one of his pistols. Maybe cleaning his weapons would help him clear his head.

Four guns later, and he was still just as put out. He needed a sanity check. The fox threw himself into his easy chair and pulled out his cell. If there was one fur he could trust to take his side, it’d be his younger brother.

“Hey, Reggie,” Nick said when he answered the phone.

“Hey, Nicky,” Gregory said. “Got a few to chat?”

“I’m on a job site right now,” his brother said. “Is it important?”

Gregory sighed. “It is, if you can spare the time.”

“Alright, give me a second,” Nick replied. A few moments of silence fell between the two. “Alright, I’m in my truck. What’s up?”

The fox bit his lip. “I had quite the day today and needed to get a second opinion on something.”

“Must be big if you’re asking me for advice,” Nick said.

“It is,” Greg said. “Nicky, you’ve got a daughter… what would you do if you caught her kissing another girl?”

His brother was quiet for a moment. “I… I don’t know, honestly,” he said. “Did you catch one of your girls doing it?”

“Colleen,” Gregory replied. “Caught her making out with another girl.”

Nick was quiet again. “Greg… I know it’s hard, especially after mom, but… you do know that lesbians exist, right?”

“Of course I do!” Gregory replied. “I’m not stupid.”

“Of course not, I’m not suggesting that,” Nick said. “But… well, maybe this is a good time to do some soul searching. One of my wife’s best friends is a lesbian, and she’s lovely. They really aren’t that bad when you get to know them.”

“What about grandkits?” Gregory said. He knew it was a weak argument, but he needed something.

“Grandkits? Colleen’s a hybrid. You and I both know what that means,” Nick said.

Damned hybrid infertility. Gregory growled. “Am I the only one seeing the problem here?”

“You might be, Reggie,” Nick said. “I’ve been thinking about mom lately, myself. Ever since Dad passed, you know? I was thinking, it might be nice to try to bury the hatchet.”

“Traitor,” Gregory muttered.

“Hey, maybe you paid your bills blowing up bridges, but I prefer building them,” Nick said. “Sure, I’m not the engineering type, but building things up instead of destroying them can be good for the soul. Maybe you should try it sometime.”

The elder fox sighed. “I’ll think about it…”

“You were always better at that than me,” Nick teased.

Gregory chuckled. “Yeah, and you were always the emotional one. It’s why I turn to you for these things.”

The brothers shared a laugh. “Was there anything else?” Nick asked.

The elder fox shook his head, not that his brother could see it. “Nah. I guess I just have some thinking to do.”

“It’ll be okay,” Nick said. He paused for a few seconds. “Love you, big bro.”

“Love you too, Nicky,” Gregory said. That was one thing he could rely on his brother for: emotional support. Even if he didn’t say what Gregory wanted, he at least had the emotional perspective that the elder fox sorely lacked. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Later, Reggie,” Nick said.

Gregory sighed as he hung up the phone. This was all so wild. But maybe Nick had a point. He bit his tongue as he brought up Facebook on his phone.

Finding Terry couldn’t be that easy, could it? He did a search. The first few results didn’t seem fruitful. He kept scrolling, though, and soon found one that seemed right on the money. She looked just like her. Different last name, but it rang a bell. Wasn’t Langley the last name of one of those boys she was always running around with as a kit? It’d be wild if she married him. Only one way to find out if it was really her. Her profile was private, so there wasn’t much he could access, but he did have one option, if he was daring: a friend request.

That felt like a bridge too far. They hadn’t talked in almost twenty years. But something about what Nick said was eating at him. How many bridges had he bombed during his career? Only three of those, though there were far more targets of questionable military importance: hospitals, mosques, apartment blocks. How much destruction had he sown in Kosovo, in Afghanistan, in Iraq?

He grabbed a bottle of whiskey and poured himself a glass, then downed it far too quickly. His paw trembled as he went to pour another, but he stopped himself. No, getting drunk wasn’t going to solve anything, and he had work in the morning. Best not to be hungover for his flight.

The fox groaned and looked back at his phone, then sent the friend request. All that was left to do was wait.", "pools_count": 4, "title": "Blown Bridges", "deleted": "f", "public": "t", "mimetype": "application/msword", "pagecount": "1", "rating_id": "1", "rating_name": "Mature", "ratings": [ { "content_tag_id": "3", "name": "Violence", "description": "Mild violence", "rating_id": "1" } ], "submission_type_id": "12", "type_name": "Writing - Document", "guest_block": "f", "friends_only": "f", "comments_count": "1", "views": "517" }