i really want Tuckington fics where Tucker is like “I can’t believe I fell in love with a no ass white boy who wants to make my life so fucking domestic” because bruh. I can feel that happening a lot. Also i want wash has no butt/wash has an ass discourse
#WASH ABSOLUTELY HAS A BUTT #SQUATS 4 DAYS #I AM WILLING TO PARTICIPATE IN THIS DISCOURSE #XD #TUCKINGTON (via @guiltypleasuretrashblog)
now thIS IS THE KIND OF DISCOURSE I CAN GET BEHIND
why wash has a slammin’ ass: an essay by salt sanford
listen okay LISTEN. wash is a badass. a certified grade-a unkillable BADASS. he is (not to quote locus like a creeper lmao) a soldier. a former special ops soldier. who, after a hellacious end to his career as a special ops soldier, went on a hellbent revenge quest that landed him in prison. who, after his stint in prison, went on a second hellbent revenge quest. who, after a second hellbent revenge quest, was adopted by a group of lovable idiots that he swore to PROTECT WITH HIS DYING BREATH and whip into shape and in order to whip them into shape, he had to teach them EVERYTHING HE KNOWS ABOUT COMBAT AND CARDIO AND GETTING STRONG.
okay. listen. the point is, wash has been through some shit. some highly physical shit that required him to keep his ass (lol lol) in shape. whether he was working out on the moi or in the prison gym or at the crash site or in chorus’s training room, THE MAN IS UP IN THE GYM JUST WORKING ON HIS FITNESS. sparring. weapons training. and STRENGTH TRAINING. some good old-fashioned time spent PUMPING IRON.
like. you bet ya ass there was some fancy schmancy top of the line gym on the mother of invention. you bet ya ass the freelancers had to spend some time with THE IRON.
wanna know what kind of lifts you do if you’re serious about getting #swole? compound lifts. [salt what’s a compound lift] a compound lift is a lift that uses multiple muscles, in a way that makes them all work together. they’re PRACTICAL, built for lifting and jumping and dragging heavy things. ya know. shit you do every day. they’re built for POWER.
do you think agent assington is doing 15lb hamstring curls on the machines?
NO
he is not
he is doing SQUATS.
he is doing motherfucking barbell squats. he is doing DEADLIFTS. he is doing weighted lunges with connie on his shoulders around the fucking weight room. he is getting swole and STRONG and and building himself an ass that don’t quit because asses that don’t quite make it easier to sprint fast and jump high and keep yourself, and your fellow soldiers, ALIVE.
[but salt there were no weights when they crash landed on chorus] LISTEN TO ME. wash built his boys a fucking OBSTACLE COURSE. i promise you, one of the first things that man did was drag every piece of fucking workout equipment off that MONSTROSITY OF A SHIP (DON’T TELL ME THAT MONSTROSITY OF A GYM DIDN’T HAVE A WEIGHT ROOM COMPLETE WITH A SAUNA) and build them a makeshift gym.
and finally, i present to you, THE CANON:
- you’re a space marine, private
- everyday is leg day
- tucker u can’t keep stopping on 69
- I HAVE GLAMOROUS CALVES AND A MISERABLE FUCKING LIFE
canon, canon, and more canon. wash makes them do squats and makes them do leg day constantly because leg day is important and GETS U STRONG GLAMOROUS CALVES AND A SWEET ASS AND MOST IMPORTANTLY OF ALL IT KEEPS U ALIVE, AND KEEPING HIS PEOPLE ALIVE IS THE MOST IMPORTANT THING TO WASH, THE MOST IMPORTANT THING EVER, OF ALL TIME.
some asses are born. some asses are made.
you make ya self an ass by doing SQUATS.
squats, baby. ass to grass. ass to grass.
also: tucker is more domestic than wash will ever be. DISCUSS.
Please read every word of the above. Start your day off right.
Salt has the Ass Discourse on lockdown so I’m here to discuss FREELANCER DOMESTICITY.
Who out of this squad of jarheads, spooks, infiltrators, assassins, records-redacted-so-far-back-that-their-favorite-breakfast-cereal-is-classified operatives (I’m looking at you, Florida) are actually capable of going Full Domestic™ upon the conclusion of their military service? North. The answer is North. (You’re thinking York. York’s thinking York. We’re all thinking York, but the fact is, try as he might York is demonstrably bad at settling down to a normal civilian life and the best he can really shoot for is hapless grifter/minimally violent career criminal. Sorry officer, just lost the keys to my shop here.)
Our Last Two Standing? Please. Neither of these assholes survived the aftermath of Project Freelancer by knowing how to properly scramble an egg (and I submit to you that neither Wash nor Carolina do, in fact, know how to scramble an egg and the results of their attempts would be horrific, a crime against eggs and the culinary arts generally).
I submit to you the above essay as evidence not just of Wash’s rocksolid glutes but of Wash’s absolute inability to settle down and act like a normal human being for two seconds. He was planning PT before the wreckage of the ship had cooled. Let’s not even kid ourselves here. Tucker, on the other hand, would like to sit on the roof and enjoy an appropriate amount of snappy conversation, and perhaps a tall glass of lemonade. He’d like the sniper rifle, but only to better appreciate the fine view from this canyon. Are those hawks up there? What are the Reds up to? Probably just standing there talking, leaving us to do the same, thank god. No, says Wash. Squats.
Fuck you, says Tucker.
Tucker would settle in domesticity just fine. He likes to chill, dance, snark on his friends, and pick up attractive people in cars. Wash likes a finely-tailored calisthenics routine and cleaning his guns for fun.
:opens beer in toast: You two are beautiful 😀
All I can add is that Tucker took one look at Caboose, one look at Wash, another look at Caboose (who has somehow managed to set the water filter on fire already) and decided he was going to have to be the one to make sure these two idiots didn’t starve to death
And you can absolutely bounce quarters off Wash’s ass even when he’s resting (ha!) (and probably off Tucker’s by now too)
Duh.
Also pretty-shaped dumbbells are just a convenience, honestly. If he has to, Wash’ll tie ropes around a rock and make you lift it. Crash-landed in the middle of a canyon on an unfamiliar planet? Well guess what, we’re going to be picking up random pieces of the ship and running laps with them across our shoulders. LEG DAY, GENTLEMEN.
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