#is to keep following like buddy. none of that is how anything works. i know you're probably like 20 and dont have much community

[dragontatoes]

every other "transandrophobia isn't real" post I see on here is about how we not only don't care about trans women and complain constantly about them not caring about us but also actively wish to harm them for insinuating we have male privilege when in reality

my transfemme and transmasc friends and I do care about each other a lot. for many, we are the only safe people in their life for trans related things.

nobody tells the transfemmes to stay in their place or that the transmascs have it worse

nobody tells the transmascs we benefit from male privilege or that the transfemmes have it worse

the transmascs have expressed how painful it is to be infantilized and treated like they were peer pressured to sacrifice femininity, huh i fucking wonder what this could say about society's perspective on femininity which is attributed to all kinds of people regardless of identity

the transfemmes have expressed how painful it is to be feared or viewed as aggressive, huh I fucking wonder what this could say about society's perspective on masculinity which is attributed to all kinds of people regardless of their identity

nobody acts jealous of someone's gender related issues. we joke about how we wish we could donate boobs, uteruses, dicks, and hormones to each other. But if someone said "you're lucky" they'd be quickly and rightly told to not.

some of them are multigender and basically could not have skin in this fuckheaded game you've made up if you tried

You can't be talking to trans people in real life and still have it stuck in your head that trans people are the main perpetrators of any kind of transphobia, not without trying really hard not to pay attention. "Transandrophobia truthers" are simply not doing the shit you're saying they're doing. They're not even, like, a group. Idk, maybe they are on reddit or some other website I don't care about but let's try to focus on real things that matter for this post?

We can and should talk about how masculinity is vilified in its own right sometimes and how this leads to mistreatment of all kinds of trans people.

[silverynight]

Gym "buddies"

Izuku's life changes the moment All Might gives him his gym membership card; he assures him he doesn't need it anymore (he's retired after all) and wants him to use it instead.

Izuku is a quirkless young man whose job is making support gear and suits for pro heroes, however, since he often wears them and tries them himself, he likes to keep himself in good condition. So far, he's been training at home, but now he has the opportunity to go to a proper gym.

He thanks the symbol of peace, hugs him, and leaves with excitement in his eyes.

However, his enthusiasm vanishes when he arrives and realizes that there are only two kinds of people in that place: very rich ones and pro heroes.

And he doesn't belong to any of those groups. After a while he decides to stay since All Might even called the place to let them know Izuku was going instead of him.

He can't disappoint him now.

Nervous, he looks around only to see Uravity and Pinky talking happily to each other; part of Izuku wants to get closer to them and ask for an autograph, but he decides to control himself.

It's not like any of them could recognize him; the pro heroes don't have the time to go in person and ask for repairs to the support department, instead, they send assistants or people who work in their respective agencies to leave the suits.

Of course, there are exceptions, there always are.

"Midoriya!"

Izuku gets slightly startled as he notices Ingenium, waving at him before walking towards where he is.

He's one of the few heroes who has met Izuku.

"Ingenium-san, hi!"

"Please, we've talked about this, just call me Iida."

He nods, cheeks turning slightly pink as he notices the pro heroes around looking at them both with curiosity.

He relaxes as soon as Iida starts talking with him, asking about his job in general and answering Izuku's enthusiastic questions about his latest missions; he's used to those already.

The next day, Uravity introduces herself and upon realizing Izuku has worked on her hero suit, she starts looking at him with admiration and awe; he doesn't think there's anything about him worth admiring, but he doesn't point that out.

He gets to know a lot of pro heroes at that gym and none of them have tried to kick him out so far, even though he doesn't quite belong there.

Izuku's first week is amazing, and he believes there's nothing that can change his mind about it until the second week.

Turns out Dynamight goes to that gym too.

Actually, he's one of the current pro heroes Izuku admires the most, so Izuku is tempted to get closer at first, until he notices the explosive hero has been staring at him the whole time since he arrived.

He can't read the blond's expression, but he assumes Dynamight doesn't like him that much so Izuku decides to keep his distance from him.

He chooses a treadmill that's at the other side of the room to get started. Izuku takes a deep breath, relaxes, and closes his eyes for a few seconds until he hears someone pressing buttons on the treadmill next to him.

He almost falls off when he notices Dynamight. However, Izuku recovers quickly and decides to pretend nothing happened.

Although he swears he can feel the blond's red eyes on him the whole time.

After a while, he goes to one of the leg press machines before he notices that Dynamight is following him closely.

"You work for Hatsume."

Alright, now that he's talking to him, Izuku can't keep pretending he doesn't exist so he turns around to face him. The guy is not only taller but clearly stronger than him.

"Yes, I'm–"

"Midoriya Izuku, I know," Dynamight cuts him off, looking like he didn't mean to. His face turns a little bit pink.

"How do you know that?" He blurts out, genuinely curious.

The pro hero starts rubbing the back of his neck like he's nervous, and he looks away from Izuku for a moment before answering his question.

"I go to her lab often because I like to know exactly what's done to my suit," he admits. "I saw you for the first time a few months ago; Hatsume told me she had a new, very talented employee and that he was the one working on my gauntlets. I got closer to ask you personally what the hell you were doing to my stuff, but you were so happily focused I couldn't... interrupt you."

Izuku notices then, the fond smile curling up the corners of Dynamight's lips, and he regrets glancing at him because he looks very handsome when he actually smiles.

"Uhh..."

"I kept going after that, but you were always so focused on your work you never noticed me," the pro hero continues, pouting a bit. He's so used to the attention he probably doesn't like when he doesn't get it.

"I'm sorry, Dynamight-san..."

"I'm Katsuki, and I want you to call me by my name, Izuku."

His own name on the pro hero's lips sounds so intimate, Izuku blushes immediately. It's even worse when Katsuki notices and smirks at him.

"Ka..." Even trying it makes him feel flustered, so of course he immediately screws it. "Kacchan!"

The pro hero looks back at him in confusion and Izuku is seriously thinking about giving All Might his membership back and never going back to that place when Katsuki chuckles as he puts a hand on his shoulder.

"Fine, you can call me that if you want."

After that Katsuki always follows him whenever he's in the gym at the same time Izuku is; he even helps him when Izuku struggles to figure out new machines and makes a very intense workout routine for him.

Izuku is sure they're very good friends now, and he often laughs at his past self for believing Katsuki hated him.

He used to think he had a bad temper, but turns Bakugo Katsuki is a very sweet guy, although Izuku knows it's better not to say that out loud.

The most surprising thing about pro hero Dynamight is that he's rather clumsy, which is really weird considering he's so precise during his battles (Izuku has watched a few of those) but at the gym he's constantly dropping things and bumping into machines, especially when Izuku has his back on him and bends over to do a particularly difficult exercise.

It's so odd.

He hears a noise behind him and turns around only to find Katsuki on the floor, face red and a little bit of blood coming from one of his nostrils.

"Kacchan, are you alright?"

"He's fine, Midobro!" Kirishima grins, looking quite amused.

"What happened?"

"He got distracted by your... leggings."

Izuku looks at Red Riot in confusion before looking down at his legs; the leggings are not that bright, they're dark red and not flashy at all. He wonders what was that interesting about them that got Katsuki distracted.

"I see that leg day has been really good on you, bro," Kirishima points out, following Izuku's eyes. "You have very thick–"

"SHUT THE HELL UP, SHITTY HAIR!" Katsuki growls, rising from the ground before standing in the middle of Izuku and Kirishima. "Do you want to die?"

"Calm down, Bakubro!" Kirishima chuckles, looking quite relaxed. He's probably used to the other pro hero's displays of irritation. "I'm just being nice to our friend!"

"Fine!" Katsuki says, but he still pushes Izuku behind himself even more, although he does it gently.

***

After an intense workout routine, Izuku ends up on the floor, exhausted. A hand touches his forehead as a big shadow looms over him for a moment.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, just give me a second, Kacchan."

The same hand appears in front of him, and Izuku wakes it without hesitation. Before he can even blink, he's back on his feet already.

Katsuki hands him a bottle of cold water.

"Thank you!" It's been barely a month, but it feels like Katsuki has known him his whole life.

Sometimes it's like he can hear Izuku's thoughts.

"Come, nerd. I'll take you to your apartment."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I have time today."

Katsuki also pays him quick visits to Hatsume's lab, and he actually stays there and talks to him. Izuku takes his break whenever he appears.

"I'm glad you finally decided to talk to your crush," Hatsume tells him the first time the pro hero draws Izuku's attention by saying his name. "It was a bit sad to watch you pine and give him the heart eyes in silence."

"SHUT UP!"

"Kacchan, relax," he chuckles, as he notices him turning bright red at the young woman's words. "She's just joking!"

Because there's no way that's true. Hatsume probably just wants to piss Katsuki off. He'd never look at Izuku with love in his eyes.

It's ridiculous.

Usually, Hatsume doesn't like having pro heroes there, but she makes an exception with Katsuki because he helps them test new gear, especially the magnetic shields she has designed for some heroes.

Besides, she likes watching things explode.

Although the number of times Katsuki is there has led to some of Izuku's coworkers getting the wrong idea about them.

Even the pro heroes at the gym ask Izuku the weirdest questions every now and then.

"We're more like... gym buddies?" Even that sounds odd coming from his mouth, Izuku has no idea why.

"I think you're saying gym boyfriends wrong, sweetie," Ashido chuckles, prompting Kaminari to laugh too.

It's a good thing Katsuki is on patrol that day; he would've gotten mad.

"No, I'm serious," Izuku says, turning bright red. "We're just friends!"

"Wow, Bakugo is an idiot," Kaminari gives Ashido a weird look.

"He totally is!" She agrees. "Anyone could try to steal this cutie if he doesn't hurry up!"

Izuku wants to tell them that their relationship is not like that, but it seems that no matter what he says they're not going to change their minds; they seem to believe Katsuki is secretly in love with him or something.

He has no idea why.

***

Izuku meets pro hero Shoto one Thursday evening; he just finished his work and headed straight to the gym.

When he sees him, he gets immediately flustered. It's not every day one gets to meet Japan's number two pro hero after all.

"Hi. I don't think I have ever seen you before."

Pro hero Shoto is very blunt sometimes.

"I've been coming here since September... so, yeah, I'm practically new here," Izuku smiles, prompting the pro hero to do the same. "I'm Midoriya Izuku!"

"Oh," finally, something akin to recognition in those mismatched eyes. "I've heard your name before. You fixed my suit last time it got destroyed by a villain, right?"

"Yes, that'd be me!"

"You did a great job. I was very impressed."

"Thank y-you, pro hero Shoto!"

"Please, call me Todoroki or just Shoto, if you want."

"Izuku!" Katsuki calls as soon as he walks in the gym. "Come here, I need to bench press you right now!"

He does that a lot lately; he uses Izuku instead of the very expensive equipment around, Katsuki assures him it's better that way, but he's not sure about that.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Todoroki comments then. "There's plenty of things you can use instead of Midoriya."

"What the hell are you doing here, half and half?"

"Toya and the old man got into a fight again," he says like it's nothing that surprises him anymore. "They were in our private gym when it happened, so it's destroyed now. It'll take a couple of days for the people we called to leave it as it was before. That's why I'm here."

Izuku is sure Todoroki doesn't say it to show off, but now he gets an idea of how rich he actually is.

He's so impressed he doesn't notice Katsuki until he's in front of him, almost like he wants to shield him from the other pro hero.

"Come with me, Izuku."

Todoroki looks from one to the other with curiosity.

"Is it really better if you try it with a person?" He asks before looking over Katsuki's shoulders, directly at Izuku: "Can I bench press you too, Midoriya?"

"FUCK OFF, HALF AND HALF!"

***

Todoroki becomes a good friend of his; he keeps coming to same gym as Izuku even after the one in his house is complete again.

Although, Katsuki gets a bit tense whenever he the three of them hang out; Izuku is not sure why, Ashido assured him they were in good terms, sure they're rivals, but they are also friends.

"Do you like half and half?"

"Absolutely, he's a great friend!"

"I don't mean it like that, nerd," Katsuki gets slightly irritated, as he usually does when Izuku doesn't understand what he's trying to say. "I mean if you like him... romantically."

"Oh!" Izuku blushes; he doesn't talk about romance around the pro hero... ever, so he gets a bit nervous, well, it's actually because the one he finds very attractive is Katsuki, but he's not going to say that. "No, I only see Todoroki as a friend."

Katsuki relaxes after that; they finish their routines like nothing happened, but the tension comes back to his shoulders after they take a shower and get ready to leave the gym.

Looking down at the floor instead of him, Katsuki takes one of Izuku's hands in his to stop him.

"What is it, Kacchan?"

"Would you like to go for a coffee with me?"

"Of course, although we usually do that!"

This time, Katsuki looks into his eyes before continuing: "No, I mean... as a date."

For a second, Izuku thinks he's dreaming, but he wouldn't blush that much in one of his dreams; he's usually more confident.

"Yes, I'd love to!"

Katsuki gives him one of those happy, devastating smiles of his before intertwining their fingers together.

Izuku needs to call All Might and thank him for that membership again, but he'll probably do that later.

He has to focus on his date with Katsuki first.

***

Patreon

[clydiepie]

Team Stan x reader! (Cooking for them)

Cooking for your boyfriend is never dull that's for sure lol

cw: none!

Team Stan (individually) x reader who loves to cook for them!

She/her pronouns

fluffy!

mentions of NSFW

Enjoy!! <3

Cartman<3

do i even have to explain???

okay i will lol

HE LOVES IT

"Hey, babe instead of us going out how about I make dinner?" You said popping your head out from the kitchen

"I think i love you.." he mumbled

"What was that?"

"Nothing stupid get back in the kitchen" he joked

While you worked in the kitchen you were super focused, you always wanted things to be just the way Eric liked (especially since he would never let you forget If you fucked something up)

He is probably sitting on the couch playing some videogame with the boys online when he smells something coming from the kitchen.

He pulls off his headset and leaves the game to follow that delicious smell

"Cartman?"

"Where the hell did he go?"

but the game has been long abandoned he shuffles his way closer to you as you focused on whatever was on the stovetop.

You were pulled from your intense focus as Eric protectively wrapped his arms around your waist

"Almost done?"

"Nearly"

Eric is gracious enough to set the table for you guys

Once you guys have eaten, Eric drags you to the couch to cuddle with him (even though he will insist that he only wants to relax while his food digests)

You guys snuggle up on his couch and watch T.V together

you can see his phone on the end table that keeps lighting up with texts from the boys wondering where he went, he ignores them.

"Maybe you should just say over, I don't want to walk you home in this cold weather."

"Eric it's cold every day."

"Shhhhhh"

Kyle<3

He really just wants to help

dear god let him or he'll explode

"Y/N honey, do you want any help?"

"I'm okay but thank you!"

Kyle will sit in the kitchen and watch your every move, not judging or anything he is just curious (plus he just likes being around you)

He waits patiently for you to give him some kind of task, he really just wants to be helpful.

"Babe?"

"Yes!" Kyle says a little too enthused jumping up from his seat.

"Would you ask Ike if he is hungry, I have enough for the three of us." you say with a smile

Kyle begrudgingly invites his little brother to eat with you guys. (he just wanted you to himself)

The three of you are gathered around Kyle's kitchen table as you serve up the food to the boys.

Kyle can't help but imagine what a good mother you would be.

Like you are so good at helping out with Ike he can’t even think about it without blushing

You take notice of his red face and ask if the food is too spicy

“Oh no it’s perfect!!”

He calmly composed himself as you and Ike chat about how school is going

Shortly after you finish eating Ike scurries upstairs back to his video games while Kyle helps you wash the dishes.

The two of you side by side at the sink, laughing as you play with the bubbles in the sink

You take a huge handful of bubbles and slap it in his face

He wipes his face and underneath the mess you see a devious smirk

You slowly start to back away from him knowing what was about to happen

“Oh baby you’re going to pay for that.”

All is heard is your screams as Kyle chases you with a handful of bubbles

“Ike help me!!” You yell

“Sorry Buddy.” Ike yells back from his room

Stan<3

Stan actually didn't even know you were going to be at his house when he got home

His parents are out of town so he figured he would just heat up a frozen pizza or something

But he walked in the door and was greeted by you wearing a cute little apron and setting the table with some simple plates for the two of you

"Uh Y/N, what's all this?"

"Oh, I just thought it would be nice for us to have a little dinner date." you smile

You are so fucking cute Stan can't handle it

He follows you into the kitchen and sees a number of things strewn about the counters

a cookbook sat open next to the stove as you continued to stir whatever was in the boiling pot in front of you

He could tell you were putting in a lot of effort and he felt bad he hadn't done anything for you

instead of offering his help, which he knew you wouldn't accept, he hatched a plan of his own

Stan strolled over to you and kissed your forehead while you worked

"I'll be right back okay?"

You hummed in response deep in concentration with your project

As fast as he came he was gone again, swiftly grabbing his keys and walking out the front door

As you heard the front door close you thought to yourself what he might be doing but you decided just to focus on the task at hand.

Just as you were about to finish up the food you hear the front door open and some movement in the dining room

You figure Stan is just up to some weird joke so you finish up the food and walk into the dining room with 2 plates in hand

You walk out to see Stan holding a bouquet of flowers and the table is set with candles and rose petals all around

"Stanley" you say trying not to cry because of how sweet he was

"What kind of date doesn't have flowers for their girlfriend?"

You put the food down on the table and walk over to him and pull him in for a sweet kiss

"Maybe I could treat you to some dessert later hm" you say kissing him again

"What did I do to deserve you."

Kenny<3

You decided to surprise your boyfriend at his house with plans to make him and his siblings dinner

You arrived at Kenny's and gave the door a quick knock before being greeted by your boyfriend with a surprised look on his face

"Babe what are you doing here." he says as he swoops in to take all the heavy bags you were carrying

"I thought I could make dinner for everyone." you smiled as you started to unpack the contents of your bags onto the counters

Kenny was shocked you would spend your time and money on him and his family

He needed to repay you somehow

As you started to prepare some stuff for cooking you noticed that Kenny had started to help you pulling out mixing bowls and a few utensils

"Ken you don't have to help, I got this," you say resting your hand on his shoulder as he leans down into the bottom cabinet looking for something.

"I know you do but I just want to help, please let me." he cooed standing up with an old wooden cutting board in hand.

You gave in instantly, how could you say no to that face

The two of you worked together cutting vegetables and cooking over the stove, Kenny would sometimes just walk up and kiss you in the middle of something

The two of you worked so well together, it's like he always knew what your next move would be

he was always one step ahead

As you too finished up cooking Kenny did the best he could to find matching plates and cups for you and his siblings

You went to call the kids in for dinner as Kenny put the plates of food on the table

domestic life seemed to fit you both so well, as you all ate Kenny talked with his sister and brother about their day

he held your hand below the table the whole time

After dinner, you guys just tossed the dishes in the sink and went to Kenny's room to cuddle

As he held you in his arms he mumbled a question into your shoulder

"Would you ever want kids one day?"

"Only if you were my baby daddy." you laugh

"Oh, I can arrange that."

Thanks for reading! i kinda got a little carried away sorry if this is too long lol!!

-m <3

[saveyourblood]

Pretty Boy - Ch 7 (Buddie x Reader)

Summary: You can feel Buck staring. When your eyes meet his, you realize he’s staring at your hand, which is still on Eddie’s knee. You slowly retreat, which makes Buck turn his attention to your face. You smile softly. He just looks out the window. The one where you’re an advanced paramedic, Buck and Eddie are firefighters, and you think you might be in love with both of them.

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6

Chapter Summary: You and Buck are officially a couple, but it isn't an easy start for either of you.

Word Count: 3k Warnings: none

It’s strange how effortless it is to go from being Buck’s best friend to his girlfriend. Maybe that’s because you’re still best friends, only now, you can make out with each other. Buck being on medical leave is kind of perfect timing, too, because none of your coworkers suspect anything. They aren’t surprised you spend most of your time at his loft. When they wonder how Buck is doing, they ask you; they know you know him best.

“Woah, hey, be careful!”

You and Buck are sitting around his table. Well, you’re sitting at the table, and he’s off to the side, sitting in one chair while another elevates his leg.

You look up at Buck and roll your eyes. “What, you’re gonna sew it back together?”

You’re holding a pair of his navy slacks and ripping apart the left pant leg.

“It doesn’t mean you had to rip them,” he chastises.

You lift up the pants, and you have to admit: it’s not your best work. It’s even, but the edges are frayed.

“Yep, looks terrible.”

“It’ll be fine!” you assure, setting them back down. “We’ll just tuck it in the top of your cast.”

You sit in an uncomfortable silence.

“Are we ever gonna talk about it?” Buck eventually asks.

You sigh. He had a follow-up appointment with the surgeon today, which wasn’t great. Granted, it could have been much worse. The fracture isn’t healing as expected, so he wants to perform another surgery. It wouldn’t be a minor surgery, either — he’d be replacing the rod and using bone grafts instead.

You lean back in your chair and cross your arms. “You already know what I think.”

You and the surgeon think Buck should wait a few more weeks before surgery. Buck, being Buck, disagrees.

“The sooner I have the surgery, the sooner I can get back to work.”

“We’re talking about your ability to walk, Buck,” you say slowly. “We’re talking about your health, your life.”

“No, being a firefighter is my life!” Buck shouts. “It is the only thing I have ever done that was important and that mattered, okay? Without that, I-I don’t have…”

His eyes are red, and his voice is breaking.

“You will still be Buck, okay?” You say, kneeling in front of him. “We’ll all still love you. There are lots of other important things that you can do with your life.”

He stares at you, then looks away and clenches his jaw. “Do you know how hard it is to watch you walk out that door every day? Leaving me behind to just sit here and stare at a wall? Knowing you get to go do the one thing I want to, but can’t?”

You press your lips together. “Buck, I’m sorry, I never thought about it-”

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad,” he interrupts. “I-I want you to keep working. I just want to be working with you.”

You move closer, setting a hand on his face and pressing your foreheads together. “I know. I know you do.”

He reaches up to hold your wrist. The two of you stay like that for what feels like hours.

“People assume we choose this life; I'm not so sure. Sometimes, I think this life chooses us.”

Everyone is gathered around foldout tables in the station loft. There are two rows: on one side sits the 118 staff, and on the other side is Eddie’s family. Bobby and Eddie stand in front of everyone.

“For those that answer the call, there can be no doubt, no equivocation,” Bobby continues. “It's not just the lives of those we serve that depend on us, but our own. The lives of our fellow firefighter and first responders. Today, we welcome a new brother into those ranks. After a year of hard work and dedication, I am proud to officially declare that your probationary period is at an end. Welcome to the Los Angeles Fire Department, Firefighter Diaz!”

The two men shake hands as everyone claps and cheers. Christopher stands up and approaches Eddie, offering him his helmet. Eddie picks Christopher up into a hug.

Something draws your eyes to Buck, who’s sitting next to you. He doesn’t see you looking, so you watch as he claps and smiles for his friend.

It’s crazy to think that Eddie’s only been in your lives for a year. In 365 days, he’s become the third closest person to you, right behind Buck and Hen. Something about him, in both a personal and professional sense, fits so perfectly into your life.

Everyone disperses to converse and get lunch from the catering table. Eddie makes his way around the small crowd. Eventually, he makes it to the table where you and Hen are sitting.

Hen pulls him into a sideways hug. “Congrats, Eddie. This is well earned.”

He thanks her and pulls her in a little tighter.

You rise out of your seat and pull him into a hug. You turn your lips to his ear in a whisper. “I’m proud of you.”

Eddie squeezes you tighter. This is the closest you’ve ever been to him. For a brief moment, the only thing between your bodies is a held breath.

You separate, but he keeps his hands on your arms. He chuckles and dips his head down.

“What?” You ask, lips curving into a confused smile.

“I’m just… I’m glad I met you.”

You smile warmly as you pat his arms. “Ditto.”

You hear some shouting and laughter. Across the loft, Buck and Chris are playing a game on the TV console. You see Christopher laugh and rest back on the couch while Buck leans forward, pointing at the screen. He gives Chris a gentle push, which makes him laugh harder.

“You two are a thing, aren’t you?”

You turn back to Eddie. You look him up and down. His hands are now buried in his front pockets, and his smile isn't as wide.

You could try faking it, but he’d call you on it in five seconds flat. “We’re that obvious, huh?”

Eddie shrugs a little. “To me, I guess.”

Your smile softens a little.

‘I’m not saying it can never happen.’ The sound of your own words keeps bouncing around your head. You essentially told this man that you could see sharing a life with him… if the timing wasn’t wrong. A strange sensation settles into your stomach. You wonder why it’s the right timing for Buck. You wonder how Eddie feels, knowing he has time to spend with you while also knowing his best friend’s time is just a few minutes sooner. You wonder if it’ll ever be Eddie’s time, and wondering this makes the feeling in your stomach more than a little bit worse.

“Well, you seem happy,” Eddie says, cutting into your thoughts. “I’m happy for you both.”

Part of you hopes he means it, and the other part sort of hopes he’s lying.

You and Buck spend the next few months growing closer. He has the second surgery, and you’re there to help him recover. For now, you’re not sharing work hours, but you’re sharing time. You’re telling your stories, and he’s telling his. Your relationship sews itself like a quilt, each day getting cozier and heavier. The extra warmth is worth the extra weight.

It’s still weird not working with him. Now that he’s going through re-certification, he at least has something to keep himself busy. Before that, he was always at his apartment when you got off work. You’ve been spending most of your free time at his place. You can’t remember the last time you spent the night at your own place; you just pop in occasionally to grab something.

You blink awake, rubbing at your eyes as you yawn. You slowly sit up, and the pleasant smell of fresh coffee greets you. You rub your eyes again, and when you open them, you see Buck standing at the top of the stairwell. He’s already dressed, and he’s holding a mug.

“Hey,” you smile. “You’re up early.”

Buck smiles back. He sits on the edge of the bed, handing you the mug. “I’m heading in now, wanna get a jump on things.”

“Today’s your final eval, right?” You ask as if you don’t already know the answer. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come?”

“Nah, watching me pretend to save lives isn’t as important as actually saving lives.”

“Well, you’ll be done with pretending by the end of today,” you remind. “You’re gonna do great.”

He grins. “You’re just a twelve today, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll be back around 8 tonight,” you confirm. “I’ll make dinner! We can celebrate.”

“Sounds perfect,” Buck smiles again.

You return the expression. God, you can’t remember the last time you were this happy.

He looks at his watch. “I gotta go. I’ll see you tonight, then.”

You nod and bite your lip to hold back a massive grin.

Buck springs to his feet. He kisses you on the forehead before trotting down the stairs. “Love ya!”

Before you can say anything, the front door opens and closes. He’s gone.

“It was just… weird,” you say, tapping your finger against the steering wheel. “I mean, we’ve implied it, but we’ve never said it, you know?”

You’re chatting with Hen in the rig. You’re on your way to a scene call, but it’ll be a few minutes before you arrive.

She figured out you and Buck were dating a few days after it started. Hen’s always been able to read you like a book, so you didn’t even try to deny it. Truthfully, it’s nice to have someone to talk to. The only other person on the team that knows is Eddie, and you’re friends, but not kind of friends. Talking to Eddie about Buck would feel like talking behind Buck’s back.

“So you said it back?” Hen asks.

“He was gone before I could.”

“Do you want to say it back?”

You sigh. “I mean, I kind of feel like I don’t even have to. He knows I love him. He has to know. …Right?”

Hen shrugs. “Just because he knows doesn’t mean you shouldn’t tell him. He might need to hear it, even if he knows.”

You pull up to the scene, and it effectively ends the conversation. A car ran through a crowd of pedestrians using the crosswalk and T-boned another car. Once you’re out of the rig, Bobby assigns you and Hen to the most critical pedestrian while Chimney and Eddie check on the driver.

“Hey there,” you greet, grabbing a C-collar from your bag. “What’s your name?”

“Shannon,” the woman musters. Her lips are pale and her voice is raspy.

“Hi Shannon, my friend Hen and I are going to look you over, okay?" You say as you start an IV. "Where does it hurt?”

“Nowhere,” she answers. “That can’t be good, right?”

“You’re in shock; we won’t know the extent of your injuries until we get you to the hospital,” you assure. “Can you wiggle your toes for me?”

You look down at her feet. They aren’t moving.

You place your hands in hers. “Can you squeeze my hands?”

Her hands sit limply in yours.

“I’m not doing anything, am I?” Shannon asks. She shakes her head as much as the collar will allow. “That’s bad. My husband, he’s a paramedic. He’s said that people with severe spinal cord injuries either die or probably wish they were dead.”

“No one’s dying, you hear me, Shannon?” You say, squeezing her hand, even if she can’t feel it.

Shannon. Her husband is a paramedic.

“Eddie,” you whisper before whipping your head around.

He’s already barreling towards the three of you. You stand up, taking a few quick steps forward. You place a hand on his chest to stop him from moving closer.

“Eddie, let me handle this,” you say in a low voice.

“How bad is it?” he asks, staring at his wife. “Spinal injury?”

“Maybe worse.”

Eddie pushes past you and kneels beside Shannon.

“Vitals are trending downward,” Hen says as she pulls her stethoscope from her ears.

“We need to get her out of here, now!” You order, ushering in some paramedics and EMTs.

Eddie stands by and watches as you and some other first responders transfer her onto a backboard and gurney. He then follows you and Hen as you load her into the rig.

“I’m riding with her,” he says, leaving no room for argument.

You turn to him, pressing your lips together. “Eddie, it looks like a cervical spine injury. We’ll probably have to intubate her. If we do that, there’s a good chance it’ll never come out.”

Tears form in his eyes. His jaw sets. He nods slightly.

“You need to say goodbye,” you whisper.

You end up intubating her in the ambulance. When you’re hitting the ER, her heart stops, and you begin chest compressions. They code her for about half an hour before Eddie says enough is enough. They call her time of death. Eddie goes to fill out paperwork while you pace around the waiting room.

He comes out a little while later, holding a plastic bag full of Shannon’s belongings. You stop dead in your tracks and just stare at him.

You rub your hands up and down your thighs. “Eddie, I’m so-”

Eddie pulls you into a bone-crushing hug. You return it in full force.

You open the door to Buck’s apartment. He’s in the kitchen with his back facing you. A bottle of champagne sits in a bucket of ice on the island. You hear a sizzling sound and watch his arms move. You close the door a little louder than normal.

“Hey, you’re home!” Buck says after he turns around. He’s holding a skillet in one hand and a spatula in the other.

“Sorry I’m late,” you say, dropping your bag and jacket on the floor by the front door. “I thought I was supposed to cook.”

“Well, since you were running behind, I figured I’d get a jump on things,” Buck says.

You smile. Even though it doesn’t feel genuine, you hope it looks it. “So you passed, huh?”

“In record time,” Buck adds, returning to his cooking. “Cap should clear me in no time.”

You kick off your shoes and take a seat at the kitchen island. “I’m proud of you. …I love you.”

Buck stops what he’s doing. He turns to face you again, a puzzled look on his face.

“You said it this morning, on your way out,” you say. “I say it in a lot of different ways, but I realized I never told you directly. So… I love you. I need you to know that.”

Buck folds his hands together and leans on the island. “Did something happen at work?”

You smile sadly. “Yeah. Uh… you know Shannon?”

“Eddie’s wife?”

You nod. “She got hit by a car when she was walking in a crosswalk — C-spine injury. We had to tube her in the ambulance. She coded and died in the ER.”

Buck takes his hands in yours. “Are you okay?”

Tears start to form, but you quickly blink them away. They aren’t yours to shed. “I’m fine. I mean, I was just doing my job.”

“How’s Eddie?”

You clear your throat. “Um, about as well as can be expected, I guess? He kind of just… took off. I called him a few times, and he texted me back saying he’s at home with Christopher.”

“That poor kid,” Buck mutters.

“Yeah,” you say quietly, playing with his fingers. “Life is short, so… I just needed to know that you know.”

Buck smiles softly. “I know.”

He begins to cough.

“Are you okay?” You ask.

He steps away, waving a hand as if to tell you he’s fine. He cups the other as he coughs into it.

“I’m gonna get you a glass of water,” you say, already standing to go to the cupboard.

Buck puts his free hand on your shoulder, stopping you. When he pulls back his hand, it’s spattered with blood. Your eyes widen as you look up at him.

“Buck?” you ask, setting a hand on his waist.

He starts coughing again, but this time, a flood of dark red blood flows out of his mouth and down his chin. He stumbles backward.

“Evan?!” you shout, helping him to the floor.

“You got lucky. Most people who suffer a pulmonary embolism aren’t in the same room as a medical professional. It saved your life.”

You’re sitting beside Buck, who’s lying in an ICU bed for the second time this year. You keep his hand in yours, your thumb gently rubbing the back of his hand.

“What caused the blood clot?” you ask.

“Clots, plural. There's the one that hit his lungs, and then there's two more in his leg,” The doctor explains. “As to the cause? It's unclear.”

“Yeah, but he just got a clean bill of health last week,” you argue. “This came out of nowhere.”

“Did it?” The doctor counters. He looks at Buck. “No pain or tenderness in the leg? Any skin discoloration, swelling?”

“...I thought I just pulled a muscle or something.”

You run your free hand over your face.

“Okay, um, well, great. Look, I'm not dead. You found the clots. When can I get out of here?” Buck asks.

“We'll move you to a room and keep you on the anticoagulants. Tomorrow, we'll run some more tests. And then we'll see.”

You thank the doctor for his time, and he dismisses himself from the room. You stare at Buck.

“I wasn’t ignoring this,” he says slowly.

“When did the symptoms start?”

“...A day or two ago.”

You stand out of your chair. “Dammit, Buck.”

“I didn’t know what it was,” he argues. “I thought it was a leg cramp or something.”

You start pacing. “If this happened when you were alone, you could have died.”

“But I-I didn't, okay?” Buck says. “Can… can you just sit down again? Please?”

After a moment, you sigh but ultimately listen to him. You take his hand again, this time with both of yours.

“The last time you were in the hospital, I told you I was scared of losing you. I hope I don’t have to repeat myself,” you say quietly.

“You don’t,” Buck assures. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Ch 8

[unreliablesnake]

Dirty little secrets (Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader)

Summary: Ghost finds out you are fuck buddies with Graves, and now he wants a piece of you too.

Note: Mare is the code name of the reader.

Warnings: None, which is surprising considering the amount of smut I wrote lately. Afab!reader.

Graves pulled you into a big hug when you met again. By then you were a member of the 141, but he always said, "once a Shadow, always a Shadow." You had worked for him for about four years, by the end as the lead interrogator. Shadows had their own rules, being brutal was something Shadow Company usually appreciated. And you could be brutal when needed.

"Are they treating you right? You know you can come back to us anytime," he said with a smirk, his hands moving down to your lower back.

With a polite smile you pried him off of you, stepping back to build some distance. "Everything's great," you replied shortly.

He tilted his head to the side as he examined your face, probably trying to find out why you were so cold all of a sudden. You couldn't blame him, but you couldn't let the others know that back in the day the two of you were fuck buddies. You loved his arrogance and sense of humor, and his boyish charm was the cherry on top.

Soap appeared before Graves could say anything, greeting him like an old friend. The two engaged in a conversation, while behind you Ghost began to move around, his size making it impossible for him to stay undetected in this situation.

"Mare, come on, we have things to do," he told you as he passed by.

You nodded and followed him, out of the corner of your eye noticing how Graves wanted to object when he saw you leave. Once you were out of earshot, you turned to the lieutenant. "What exactly do we have to do?"

He let out a questioning hum, but immediately realized what you were asking him. "Oh, nothing. I just saw how uncomfortable you were when Graves became all touchy during that hug. Thought you might want to be away from him," he explained. "Is he like this with every female employee?"

"No," you replied immediately, maybe sounding a little offended by the idea.

"Just asking. I guess there's a story then." Letting out a long sigh, you nodded. Ghost looked down at you, studying your face with an intrigued expression. "You were together?" You remained silent and his eyes grew a little wider. "You're still together?"

For a moment you wondered how much you should tell him, after all you've been trying to keep it a secret from them. But strangely enough, he made you feel safe, probably because this man seemed to be good at keeping secrets. "We're not. We're just… friends with benefits," you admitted.

"He looks like the type of guy who's into that, but I didn't think you would like it," he noted as you walked into the hangar.

"We're having fun without the commitment of a relationship."

He watched as you hopped on a table, eyes glued to you the whole time. You could tell he was still thinking about the idea of you and Graves occasionally having sex, probably judging you for being this open-minded. But you didn't mind. He could think whatever he wanted.

"And how does it work now that you don't work together?" he suddenly asked, his arms now folded over his chest.

With a smile, you replied, "A few weeks ago he got on his plane and flew over to visit me."

"He took his private jet for a trip to have sex with you?" When you nodded, he whistled. "If I needed it that badly I'd just go to the nearest pub and pick up some bimbo," he said.

"You're into bimbos?"

Ghost shrugged. "They're easier to impress. Much less effort than impressing girls like you."

"Was it a compliment?" you asked with a playful smile.

"Maybe."

He was watching you, eyes intense and dark as he thought about something. You knew that while he was silent, his mind was probably insanely loud at the moment. "What?" you spoke up, getting bored of his silence.

"Nothing," he brushed you off.

"Come on, Ghost, I can see the wheels turning in your head."

Taking a deep breath, he clearly considered answering your question. Then he nodded, letting you know he was ready to give you a glimpse into his mind. "Why did you leave Shadow Company if you were having fun with Graves?"

"Price said some things that made me come here."

"Like what?"

You smiled and let out a small laugh. "I know you recommended me," you informed him.

Ghost gulped, but he quickly recovered and soon stepped between your legs, using his knee to push them wider apart so he could fit in there. You nervously looked around to see how many people were staring at you, but there was no one near. He put his hands on your knees, gently stroking your skin through your pants to get your attention.

"Why did you recommend me? Something tells me there was a personal reason," you told him, hoping he would finally say something.

"I think I saw you and Graves once." With a frown, you let out a questioning hum. "We were working together on something and I needed you for an interrogation. Someone told me you went to get something from the plane, and sure enough, you were there," he began before leaning really close to you so his deep voice dropped to a whisper, "being eaten out by someone."

That smug bastard was smiling, you could see that in his eyes. But you couldn't be mad when you were embarrassed, wishing you could crawl into a hole and die. "I don't even want to know what you think about me after that," you said.

But Ghost only tilted his head to the side as he studied your face. Your skin was burning under his gaze so you looked away, but he grabbed your jaw and made you look at him forcefully. "I've been thinking about what it would feel like to be the reason why you make those sounds," he finally told you.

You felt the heat building up in your core, every cell now yearning for more; his touch, his kiss, any kind of physical contact, really. Ever since you had joined the 141, you'd been on good terms with Ghost, the two of you often drinking together at night, and he even told you some personal details. You knew he had nightmares. You knew he had a traumatic childhood. You knew--

"Mare, are you in here?"

Graves. Fuck. You instinctively pushed Ghost away, who only moved because your actions took him by surprise. "Damn it," you muttered as you jumped off the table and gave him an almost worried look. "Nothing happened," you told him before walking away.

You met the commander halfway, flashing a nervous smile at him the moment you stopped in front of him. "Is everything okay?" he asked, putting a hand on your flushed cheek.

No. Nothing was okay. You wanted to find out what Ghost really wanted from you. Was it just sex? Did he get the courage to act on his dirty fantasies because he knew you were fuck buddies with Graves? There were too many questions for your liking.

"I'm good," you managed to say in the end. "Let's talk somewhere else. Do you have booze?" you asked with a laugh.

As you walked away, you turned back for a short moment, not missing the way Ghost stood there with his hands stuffed into his pockets, watching you leave without saying a word.

[the-s1lly-corner]

How would follower!bishops react to a disciple!reader who's very giving and accommodating to them when they first join the cult? As in giving them care packages and showing them around, doing it out of their own free will. The reader knows who each of them are too maybe?

Follower!bishops x kind!disciple!reader

Anon you don't know what you've done because this is exactly how my main cotl OC is I'm about to get silly

Also I could NOT find a decent gif ignore Danny

Notes: reader is GN, you are a disciple of the lamb, you're one of the few people in the cult who knows who the bishops are (something something its been a very long time since theyve all been taken down, passage of time)-- implied that reader is either immortal via a gold skull necklace or other means OR they just keep up with history, follower bishops, more platonic than romantic, crushing if you squint

CWs: none

LESHY

if youre a bit of a pushover he might put some of his chores onto you- will grumble and mutter to himself if you put your foot down though... average youngest sibling activity who had a taste of godhood blah blah hes spoiled

genuinely doesnt know if he feels offended that youre putting so much time aside for him or loving that youre doing your best to make things as comfortable for him as possible- are you doing this for pity or for something else?

will get jealous if you apply the same energy to his siblings, youre his buddy!!

probably thinks hes swaying your faith before you just outright say youre doing all of this out of the kindness of your heart- still teases the lamb about it to stir some drama

HEKET

feels she doesnt need a caretaker or a friend, shes not going to let anyone think that shes gone soft after falling from grace- she takes the longest to warm up to your kindness

either lashes out at you or the lamb due to feeling that youve been assigned as a babysitter to make sure she doesnt do anything- sure, the lamb has no reason to trust her or her siblings to behave themselves in the cult BUT that doesnt make it any less humiliating!

she does get used to your company with time- youre stubborn... talking together is easy because youve taken the time to learn sign language and youre more than happy to teach her

you leave her baskets with various teas and medicines to help soothe her throat on days where it hurts more- due to strain or weather or its simply one of her worst days... shes thankful for your effort but she shows it through guiding you on what works for her and what she likes

KALLAMAR

torn between him expecting you to tend to his every need and him being too nervous to push things and risk punishment from you or the lamb- you are a disciple after all, you can do things other followers arent permitted to do - and... oh youre... spending time with him because you genuinely want to?

he doesnt know what to make of it, too scared to really try anything to risk you leaving him alone

i personally headcanon that hes hard of hearing, probably deaf in one of his ears... he can still hear just barely- he takes you up on any offers to teach him sign to help minimize problems down the line

loooooooves the little care packages you leave for him- treats, goodies, and generally stuff he can use to upkeep himself- its nice still receiving "offerings" after everything!

SHAMURA

you... actually come in handy in helping keep them on track as well as reminding them of things they need to do or things that have been said- things have gotten so much harder since theyve lost their crown so your help is appreciated

one of the things you leave for them is ink and journals so they can keep track of things on their own when youre not around as well as generally granting them a space to put down their own thoughts in a private setting

your kindness makes you easy to talk to, you both do a lot of that... well... actually its mostly you doing most of the talking. shamura does a lot of listening but they prompt you to keep going or tries to find a subject to fill the silence

even if you were sent by the lamb to keep an eye on them theyd understand- if they were in the lambs place and decided to spare them theyd have someone to keep an eye on them... not really that offended about it plus they get a companion!

[canadianfangirl-95]

Take it out on me 

Inspired by the song by Florida Georgia Line 

Summary: Dating Tom hasn’t been easy these last few months; you’ve been forced to find comfort in the arms of his friend Frankie. But what happens when Frankies feelings develop to more than what you agreed to? 

Warnings and Information: 18 + minors, DNI, AU Tom and Frankie have no wives or kids, protected piv (on the pill, not mentioned), smut, oral f & m receiving, infidelity, emotionally abusive relationship, swearing, physical violence, reader has hair and breasts 

Word Count: 11k

“What’d he do this time?” Frankie asks deadpan as you press a 6 pack of beer into his chest on your way into his house.  

He closes the door and follows you into his kitchen. You turn and lean against the island, crossing your arms. “Why do you ask that?” You ask, trying not to sound too annoyed. 

Eyeing you with his brows raised, he places the beer on the counter and leans with his hands on either side of your body. His large frame dwarfing you between him and the counter. “I can tell you’ve been crying, and I always know anytime you show up at my door past 11 o’clock then he really must’ve pissed you off.” He says in a low voice. 

You sniffle slightly, annoyed that your flushed cheeks and smudged makeup outed you from your cry on your way over here. You begin to well up again, how do you keep finding yourself in this situation. The tears begin to push at your lashes before you can stop them, so you look at the pot lights above you and blink rapidly. “I just, I don’t know why he keeps treating me like that you know?”  

“Shh, shh it’s okay baby.” He whispers, pulling you close as you start to sob into his chest, pooling his green t-shirt into your fists. “None of us know why Tom does anything, trust me.” He kisses you gently on your head and rubs the spot with his hand.  

You pull away slightly and look up at him, “I don’t’ know what to do Frankie, I’m so fucking fed up.” Your hands are still twisted in his shirt as his rest around your waist. His strong arms defined as you pull his shirt tighten and the sleeves struggle to hold place around his muscles. 

He shrugs and lets out a breath, “Take it out on me baby.”  

With that you pull him in to latch your mouth against his. He squeezes your body tightly and moans into you. You quickly deepen the kiss and lick into his mouth, his hat tapping onto the top of your head as your face move against each other’s. His hands slide down your body over your ass until they land on your upper thighs. Your hands rise up to wrap around his neck as he hoists you effortlessly up into his arms and starts walking down the hall towards his bedroom.  

You break for a second and let out a laugh, “What about the beer?” 

“Don’t need beer, only thing I need to taste right now is you.” He says before attacking your mouth again and kicking the bedroom door closed with the heel of his cowboy boot.  

The next morning you are back in your car, checking the time once again to make sure Tom will have headed to work already. 2 years you’ve been dating Tom, and 4 months you’ve been sleeping with one of his best friends Frankie behind his back. That title is loose of course, no one is really Toms friend, just his army buddies. From your conversations with Frankie, you quickly discovered that none of them ever really liked Tom, he was just their leader and now they’re all indebted to each other due to everything they’ve been through. That’s probably why when you found yourself at Frankies door all those months ago, bitching and moaning about what an asshole Tom could be, he was more than happy to return your kiss. You can’t even remember why you were there, all you know is Frankie was sweet and considerate and listened to you, and when the drinks flowed a little too freely and his messy brown hair curled out of his hat, you took your chance to kiss a real man, and boy did he ever kiss you back. Ever since, every time Tom says something that particularly pisses you off, you tell him you’re going to stay at your sisters, while secretly you’re making your way over to Frankies for a lustful night that gives you enough energy to go back to your burdened life. Tom has his moments, where he lets his guard down and is kind, but soon the anger would return and he’d say some rude and humiliating comment towards you, and the cycle would start over again.  

No one could know, because no one would understand. Tom would kill Frankie, and if he didn’t, he would surely lose Will, Benny and Santi as well. He was risking everything for you, and you couldn’t help but wonder why. Surely, he didn’t have feelings for you, it was just about sex. But still, every time he opens the door for you, you wonder why he lets you take his life into your hands. 

Standing in your kitchen at the end of the day you peel potatoes for dinner. Cutting them into small slices and placing them into a bowl. The door opens across the house and your breath hitches, realizing Tom is finally home. His footsteps fill the house as he makes his way towards the kitchen. You bite your lip and look down at the task in front of you. The darkness of his large body fills your peripheral vision, and you feel him move to stand beside you.  

He clears his throat, and you look up from the counter to be met with his dark brown eyes and eyebrows pulled together. He leans on the counter with his hand, his other pulled behind his back. “Hey.” 

“Hey.” You say back quietly.  

He lets out a deep breath, “I know I messed up last night, I’m sorry.” His other arm moves and pulls out a small bouquet of wildflowers.  

You pull your lips in, you’ve told him a dozen times your favourite flowers are red roses, but you figure it’s the thought that counts. Reaching out you nod and accept them with a quick acknowledgement. A smile spreads on his face, and he leans in to kiss your cheek.  

“Love you baby.” He says as he moves past you to leave the kitchen, before quickly stopping and continuing. “Oh, by the way, the guys are going to play pool at Chucks on Friday night. You uh, - you can come if you want. Like a date.”  

Nodding you say, “Oh yeah, sounds good.”  

He smiles and continues towards the washroom. You return to chopping the vegetable, smiling to yourself at the prospect of seeing Frankie again. 

Friday night rolls around and you finish getting ready. Your tightest jeans with heeled boots and a crop top. You don’t normally dress this sexy when you hang out with Toms friends, or even Tom for that matter, but Frankie has been making you feel so desirable lately that you figure it’ll be a nice little treat for him.  

“Come on babe, the guys are waiting. I don’t need them ragging on me that my ball and chain made me late!” Tom calls from downstairs.  

You roll your eyes and finish applying your lip gloss, pursing your lips to see how kissable they look. One more fluff of your hair and you head downstairs to see Tom standing at the end of the staircase staring at his phone.  

He finally looks up when you are near the end and does a double take when he truly notices you. “Damn baby. You look good, this because of those flowers I got you?” he asks, pulling you into his arms.  

You let out a chuckle and place your hand on his chest, “Yeah, of course. Wanted to treat my man to a good view tonight.” You say, trying not to sound too sarcastic. He buys the innocence of course, he always does.  

Chucks is the guy’s typical hang out spot, when they’re not hanging out at one of your houses of course. A fairly large spot with lots of seating and multiple pool tables and dart boards, creating a busy enough space but you’re still able to get a drink from the bartender without waiting for half an hour.  

Tom pushes the door open and steps aside to let you through, you give him a courteous smile and walk past him towards the usual spot in the far corner. The guys have put their military life behind them, but not without keeping a few quirks, like having to be able to view the entire room at all times. Benny and Will are already seated at the long table, arms spread out with a beer in front of each of them. They notice you approach, and Will rises out of his seat, he rests his hand on your back and places and a familiar kiss to your cheek as they say their welcomes. Tom rounds the table and slaps Benny on the shoulder which earns a wince of pain from the younger man.  

“What, you still sore from that fight?” He laughs. 

Benny rubs his shoulder with his hand and tilts his head back and forth to stretch his neck while you take a seat beside Will. “Yeah man, that was a rough one.” 

“Well, maybe if you spent less time on your back during the fight you wouldn’t be so sore.” Tom comments before turning to you. “Hey babe, can you grab me a pitcher?”  

You take a deep breath in your nose and nod before rising from your seat and walking over to the bar. After ordering a glass of wine and Toms beer, you turn and lean against the cool countertop to look back at the table, the three of them casually talking. The sound of the door slamming closed grabs your attention and you watch from your spot as Santi and Frankie walk in, heading directly towards the men in the corner. Santi is unaware of your presence, but almost as if Frankie can feel your eyes on him, he turns his head slightly in your direction and catches your gaze. You watch breathless as he eyes you until he passes and turns his head back to the attention of the man beside him. You turn towards the counter and lean against it, head dizzying as the memories of Frankie the other night cloud you. The way he sucked your clit until your screamed, the way he pushed you down into the mattress as he took you from behind, whispering to you about how much of an idiot Tom is for letting a woman as beautiful as you out into the world.  

 The sound of the pitcher, a cold glass and wine glass hitting the counter in front of you snaps you out of your trance. Your head swings up and you smile pleasantly at the bartender before giving her some cash. You look at the display in front of you and think about how you’re going to get it all back. Taking the glass, you tuck it into your right elbow before grabbing the wine glass with your right hand and taking the pitcher into your left. You cautiously walk back to the table. As you approach, Frankie looks over Santi from his seat beside Tom and quickly rises, jogging over to you.  

“Here, let me take that hermosa.” He whispers to you, taking the pitcher out of your hand and giving you a soft smile.  

You return the smile and pluck the glass out of your elbow with your now free hand. Your eyes stay on each other for a moment before you blink and move past him to your seat between Will and Santi. Frankie realizes his pause and moves quickly back to the table. He slides the beer onto the hard wood top and comments, “Nice of you to get drinks for all of us Tom but I don’t share glasses.” He says with a laugh. 

Tom reaches over and slides the glass towards himself, “Nice try Morales, but I don’t share anything.” He says with a joking tone and begins to pour himself a drink.  

You eye Frankie through your lashes at the comment and bite your tongue to prevent the chuckle that wants to erupt at the irony of his words.  

After the group has sufficiently drank their fair share of beer and you’ve nursed your wine, knowing damn well you’ll be driving a hammered Tom home even though he said he would DD, you make your way over to the pool tables. 

“Alright teams, Pope and Fish, Ironhead and I, and Benny you can have my girl. She always messes me up-,” He says before catching your annoyed gaze, “Because you’re too damn pretty babe, you distract me.” He says with a joking smile on his face.  

You nod and pick up your stick, “Mhm, sure blame your losing streak on me.” You say with a sweet but poisonous voice.  

Frankie chokes on his beer at your joke and quickly tries to cover it up when Tom turns his head towards him menacingly, “Fuck-,” he coughs, “Sorry, down the wrong pipe.” He pats his chest as Tom turns his attention away from him and back to you. “Alright, since you’re such a pro, care to place a bet?” He asks. 

You feel the eyes of everyone on you and you shrug, “Sure, what’s the wager?” 

He leans on the pool table and looks you up and down, “If I win, you have to wear that little number I got you for Valentines for me again.” He says with a wink.  

Your cheeks grow red with embarrassment as the guys widen their eyes at each other and try not to engage. Frankie coughs once more and then looks at the ground. The thought of the lacey red lingerie he got you flashes in your eyes, you didn’t have any problem with it, but you didn’t particularly care to wear it for Tom. Bringing your gaze back to his you counter, “Fine, and what do I get?” 

“What do you want?”  

You think for a second, “I want, - I want you to watch the Bachelor with me and you can’t say a single mean thing about it.”  

He begins to roll his eyes, and you continue, “And no eye rolling either, or grunts or general displeasure at all.” You say, crossing your arms and giving him a smug look.  

Frankie watches from the side, pretending to chalk his cue as he listens in on your conversation that from the outside eye would seem like a generally pleasant and funny interaction between a couple. His mind, however, ventures to the time you had a Bachelor viewing party with your friends and Tom sat there and joked about it the entire time, humiliating you in front of them. The show was done at 10, your friends were gone by 10:15 and by 11 you had finished your fight with Tom, packed your things and were crashing your mouth into his the moment he opened the door.  

Tom sucks his teeth in and then nods, “Okay deal.” He offers his hand, and you bounce forward to shake it. He takes your hand and pulls you in close to whisper in your ear. “Make sure you wear your red heels too baby.” 

You roll your eyes and swat at him playfully, completely prepared to kick his ass during the game.  

You and Benny start against Frankie and Santi and the conversation is light and fun while Tom pokes you in the side to try to make you miss. You and Benny beat them by a few balls; however, you swear Frankies hand slipped on purpose a few too many times. You sit back and watch Tom and Will take on Frankie and Santi. Frankies skills exponentially improve during the game, but Will is too much of a sharpshooter for them to win.  

Tom leans into you, “Almost time to strap into that little piece for me baby.” He says before placing a kiss to your head and taking his shot.  

Rounding the table to the side facing the rest of the bar you eye your shot and pass the cue between your hands before finding your place. You bend over to line up the cue with the white ball and eye the shot.  

A group of men are passing by the pool table and one of them stops in his tracks. He takes notice of your curved ass as you’re bent over against the table and takes a double take before motioning for his friends to look as well.  

You take your shot and hit the ball right into the hole. Straightening up you smile and look up at everyone. Will and Benny have low hung faces, and Santi is rubbing his eyes, Frankie is just looking at you apologetically. Your eyebrows furrow until you finally notice Tom and the furious look on his face as he stomps past you. You turn in your spot confused to see him grab a guy’s shirt and start spitting in his face. 

“The fuck you checking out my girl for?” he asks with a gruff voice.  

The guy throws his hands up and looks to his friends who stand on shocked, “Whoa, man. I didn’t know, calm down.” 

You move to address Tom, but Frankie grabs your elbow and shakes his head at you. You look at him concerned but watch as Benny and Will move past you and stand around Tom.  

Will interjects, “Alright Tom, he didn’t know. Let him go.”  

Tom looks at the distressed face of the man in his clutches and the pleading eyes of his friends and releases his grip. The man quickly scurries away with his friends to the bar exit. Benny pats Toms back and tries to turn his attention back to the table. 

Tom turns, Frankie quickly let’s go of your elbow and steps back, placing his hands in his pockets.  

You cross your arms and raise your eyebrows at Tom, “Seriously? What the fuck was that?” You bite.  

He looks at your exasperated, “He was checking out my girl, what was I supposed to do?” 

“Um, ignore it. Who cares if someone checks me out?” you counter. 

“I care, maybe if you dressed a little less provocatively, I wouldn’t have to worry about it.” He snips at you, crossing his arms right back at you.  

You huff a laugh, “You didn’t seem to mind when we left?” 

“Well now I do mind.”  

Will steps closer, “Hey guys, can you not do this here? Let’s just move on, okay?” 

You and Tom eye each other, and you swallow deeply, “It’s still my turn.” You say, picking up your cue and moving around the table to the where the cue ball landed.  

The rest of the game Tom misses almost every shot, muttering to himself with frustration and annoyance. Benny finally lands the 8 ball in his chosen pocket, even Wills skills aren’t enough to recover from Toms mishaps.  

You laugh and high five with Benny while Tom shakes his head. You try to smile and walk over to him to pat his arm, “It’s okay Tom, it’s just a game.”  

“I was distracted.” He snarks. “I’m gonna get some air.” he says before bounding towards the exit.  

Will and Benny follow along and Santi excuses himself to go talk to the brunette he has been eyeing the whole game at the bar. You turn and look at Frankie, he smiles gently and moves to lean on the pool table in front of you.  

“So that was, a lot.” He comments, taking his hat off his head to run his large hand through his locks before placing it back on.  

You smirk, “Yeah, well that’s Tom for you.” 

“I’ve always wondered, after those fights between the two of you, what happens when you get home?” he asks intently. 

Shrugging, you pass your weight between your feet. “We drive home in silence; he lays on our couch and watches some war movie he’s seen a hundred times and falls asleep to the sound of gun fire.”  

Frankie nods, “And you?” he asks quietly. 

You grin and step forward but not close enough to cause a stir. You reply, just loud enough for him to hear you, “And I, go to our room, peel off all my clothes, slide into our bed, slip my hand down under our covers, and touch myself, thinking about how someone else makes me moan more than he ever has.” 

His ears begin to turn red, and a devilish grin sparks on his face. He wants to reach out and touch you, the way he’s wanted to touch you since he saw you in that tight little outfit. Frankie looks you up and down. “You know those jeans of yours are causing a lot of issues tonight. I’m gonna have to take care of one of them by myself when I get home.” He whispers.  

“That was the plan baby.” You say with a wink. “If I were to call next Saturday while Tom is at his brothers, would you be home?”  

“You can just come over, you ain’t gotta call.” He counters with a smile, which you return.  

Your flirty conversation is cut short as you hear Santi stomp over and lean against the table next to Frankie.  

“Well, that was a bust. Got a boyfriend.” He laments. 

The rest of the guys soon return, and Tom wraps his arm around your shoulder, “Ready to go baby?”  

You nod and say your goodbyes, your eyes trailing on Frankie before Tom turns you in your spot and you head towards the door.  

The next Saturday comes, and you bid Tom farewell in the morning for his overnight visit a few hours away to his brother, leaving you alone to your own devices. You haven’t seen Frankie since that night at the bar, and you are certainly ready. Between the way Tom acted that night and his consistent comments on your outfits since then and whether or not they were appropriate is driving you up the wall.   

Tying the belt on your long trench coat you buzz with anticipation before grabbing your overnight bag and heading out the door.  

Frankies face immediately lights up when he opens it and sees you standing there, illuminated perfectly by his porch light in the darkness of the evening.  

He eyes your coat and comments, “You cold? Thought it was still pretty warm out.”  

Shaking your head you grin, “Nope, not cold.” 

Smirking he steps aside in the doorway, “Well then, take off your coat, baby come on in.”  

You pass him, the sound of your red heels hitting the hardwood floor fills the room. You place your bag on the floor and turn to him with a knowing look. He closes the door and puts his hands in his back pockets, trying to figure out what you’re hiding.  

“What you uh, what you got going on under that coat there missy?” he asks playfully pointing to your coat.  

Biting your lip, you undo the belt on the coat and slowly pull down the zipper before holding the coat open by placing your hands on your hips.  

Frankies mouth begins to water, and his eyes widen, taking in the look of you standing in his living room with a red lacey lingerie bodysuit and red heels. He chuckles, “This? Is this the one Tom was getting on about last week?” 

You nod and he continues, “You didn’t wear it for him I guess?” 

“Nope.” You confirm with a strong P.  

“Hm, just for me then?” he asks with a wink.  

Stepping closer to him you run your hands up and down his broad chest, “Just for you.”  

“Well then, let’s see how long it lasts on you.” He moves his hands to your shoulders and shucks the coat off, throwing it on the back of his couch before bringing them to your jaw. He grazes his strong nose around your face as your mouth lays open in anticipation. Your breathing grows laboured until he finally licks into your mouth and presses his body against yours. The ecstasy courses through your veins as you devour each other’s mouths, you finally break to grab his hand and lead him to his bedroom. He follows at arm reach so he can watch your ass bounce in the lacey thong of your lingerie. You pull him into his room and move him to sit on his bed. Kneeling on either side of his thighs you push him down flat on the bed. He grunts and then perches up on his elbows to take in the display you have before him.  

“Fuck, you are-,” his hands move on your hips and squeeze, “fucking beautiful baby. Whatever hell he’s putting you through, I can’t wait for you to take it out on me.”  

You smile and lunge down to him, taking his mouth in yours as you fumble with his belt. Pulling his zipper down you reach into his boxers and pull out his long hard cock. Rubbing it up and down, spreading the precum that oozes out of it onto his length. You break your kiss and slide down onto your knees on the floor and lean forward. He watches as you take him into your mouth, tasting the saltiness as you work him up and down.  

Frankie groans as he watches you with your mouth stretched around him. “Oh yeah you take that cock so well baby.” You hum around him and his head falls back, “Ugh, fuck that feels so good. I just wanna keep asking you questions so you can keep doing that. Fuck, you like having me in the back of your throat baby?” 

You hum again and sink lower, so he bounces off the back of your throat, it earns a satisfying moan from his lips. “That’s right, you like how much I fill you up?” Another vibration shoots down his length from the back of your throat as you work him. “Do I fill you up more than Tom?”  

You look up at him through your lashes and twist him in your hand as you moan in acknowledgement, sending a shiver up his spine.  

“That’s right baby, he can’t satisfy you like I can. Fuck, baby I’m not gonna last much longer the way your mouth is right now. Come here, I need to feel you.” 

You pop his cock out of your mouth and give it a chaste kiss before rising to your feet. He immediately grabs you and spins you around to fall flat on the bed. You giggle as you scoot up to rest your head on the pillow. Frankie stands from the bed and pulls his clothes off one by one, all the while taking a mental picture of you, laying on his bed in the bright red lingerie and heels that Tom bought you. His cock may explode from how turned on the sight makes him.  

He quickly climbs onto the bed and pushes your legs open to be on either side of him. His fingers trail down the lace bodysuit to find the buttons between your legs, he pops them open and slides his hand up and down your slick, pumping his fingers into you slowly.  

You moan at the sensation, he leans forward, taking his cock in his hand and nudges at your entrance. You look at him confused, “Aren’t you gonna take this off?” 

He shakes his head, “Nah, you look too perfect. Wanna fuck you in it baby.” 

With that he slides into your hole, and you let out an agonizing moan, his size shocks you every time. He bites his lip and looks down at where your bodies meet before sliding back on his knees and pushing your knees up near your chest. He starts to pound into you incessantly, hitting your g spot perfectly with each movement. It’s fast and hard but your body courses with energy as your clit bounces off his hair just above the base of his cock. 

He looks at how your back begins to arch and stutters, “Not yet, baby, - please I wanna cum with you. Just hold on I’m almost there.”  

You squeeze your eyes shut and whimper, “I’m trying, it feels, fuck I’m almost there.”  

“I know, I know I can feel it, just,- just-,” his mouth falls open as he releases inside you. The swell of his already large length inside you hurtles you into your orgasm as you can no longer hold it back any longer. He slowly pumps in and out, painting your walls as you squeeze your eyes shut and hold your breath as the sensation flows through you.  

He finally stills and lowers to rest his head between your breasts. He pants as the sweat on his forehead seeps onto your already damp skin. You rub your face with your hands and let out a deep breath of satisfaction. His head still lay on your chest, you watch his curly locks fall and rise with your chest as your breathing settles. You run your hands through his hair, and he lets out a chuckle.  

“That was amazing as always.” He says, finally raising his body off yours and leaning back on his haunches. “Let me get you a washcloth, and then I’ll grab us some food for bed.” He says with a wink, before pulling himself off the bed and heading to his ensuite bathroom.  

You lay and watch his tight butt leave the room. Grinning to yourself, you roll over on the bed and rest your head on the pillow, trying to identify the reason for the warmth that seems to be growing in your chest.  

You blink slowly, taking in the light that is streaming in the crack in the curtains. The smell is familiar but not home, the pillow is comfortable, but not worn in. You take a breath in and roll over, taking in the sight of Frankie still shirtless sprawled out beside you. Smiling, you reach over to the nightstand and check your phone. A text from Tom is highlighted, saying what time he’ll be home in the afternoon. You raise up on the bed and stretch, the bend in the mattress causes Frankie to stir. 

He opens his eyes in his sleepy haze and reaches for your leg as you go to turn to the edge of the bed. “Hey, stay in bed.”  

You huff out a laugh, “I can’t, I should get going.” You say, standing up and rummaging around in your overnight bag to find more acceptable clothing to wear home.  

He sits up on his elbow, “Already? It’s still early.”  

Pulling on your shorts you shrug, “I know, I’m gonna go get some cleaning done around the house today.” 

He bites his lip and drums his hands on the bed, “I was uh, - I was actually thinking we could go for breakfast. If you want?” he asks, his voice growing nervous.  

You stop your movement and straighten up. Scratching your head you comment, “That’s um, that doesn’t sound like something two people having an affair would do Frankie. Sounds more like a date.”  

He nods awkwardly as you continue to dress. “Yeah, yeah I guess. That’s uh, something Tom takes you out for then?”  

Shrugging you reply, “I mean, not really. But yeah, breakfast is really something I should do with my boyfriend.”  

“Right, right.” His voice drifts off and you eye him suspiciously.  

“Okay, well, - uh thanks for last night. It was fun.” You say, pulling your bag onto your shoulder. 

“Yeah, of course. See you later.” He tries a half smile, but you can tell its forced.  

Deciding to just excuse yourself from the awkwardness you head out the door. The drive back home isn’t filled with the release of stress that it normally does after Frankie spends the night filling you up, instead it’s filled with confusion. Did he ask you on a date? Did you feel something for him last night? Did you like the way his sheets smelt like his body wash? Could you even be entertaining thoughts of Frankie? Tom drives you crazy, but the beginning of the relationship was so great. You fell into each other quickly, moved in after a year of dating, talked about getting a dog from the shelter, the whole thing. You don’t know exactly when things went bad and his treatment changed, but it pushed you into another man’s arms and you aren’t exactly proud of that. You don’t want to be pulling Frankie into your messy situation, and maybe you shouldn’t even be in this situation at all. All you can think about is whether it would be harder to stay or go.  

Settled on the couch with your chores done, you check the time and see that Tom should be home soon. Your heart bounces in your chest as you wait for the click of the door. Your attention quickly being drawn when the sound comes, and you hear Tom calling you from the door.  

“I’m home!”  

“In here!” you call from the living room.  

He rushes in and grabs the tv remote, turning it off and then sitting down in front of you on the ottoman. 

Your face is confused by the sudden interruption, and you perk up on the couch as you wait for him to address you.  

Tom sits there quietly for a second and bounces his leg before nodding and speaking, “We need to talk.”  

Your eyebrows pop up and you straighten up further. “We do?” 

“Yeah, yeah, we do. Something -,” he pauses to clear his throat. “Something has been going on here and I’m not okay with it.”  

A lump forms in your throat, has he found out about Frankie? How could he have? You stutter out, “Um, what do you mean?” 

He takes a deep breath in and folds his hands in front of him, “I discovered something, while I was away that needs to end.”  

Waiting, your eyes bulge in anticipation.  

“I discovered that I have not been treating you how you deserve, and I need to do better.” He finally states. 

The hair on your arms settle but your mind races, “How um, how do you mean?” 

“I talked with my brother a bunch about us, and he pointed out a few instances where I treated you poorly. And then we talked more, and he pointed out a lot of instances where I treated you poorly. Looking back at it all, I do see what he’s saying and I wanna try to do better. So tomorrow I’m gonna schedule couples therapy for us, if you’re willing. To work on what’s been going on.”  

Your mouth gaps, and everything you’ve been thinking about the last day sprints through your mind all at once. “Oh, wow Tom. Yes, yes that sounds great.”  

He smiles and leans forward to take you into his arms, “Thanks baby, I really feel like this will be good. I’m gonna work hard, I promise.” 

His promise dances in your heart with hope and excitement. Until Frankies voice rings in your head. You shouldn’t need to see him anymore if Tom works through this, but you also don’t need to end it with him. It’s not like you were exclusive, he was always free to date others and end it with you. You’re sure you’ll both be able to let it go, right? 

The next time you see Frankie is at Wills a week and a half later, he’s invited everyone over to watch a hockey game. When he arrives, you give him a polite smile and distract yourself with the wine that you brought as Tom has finally held up his side of a DD agreement and is just drinking pop for the night. You find yourself in the kitchen putting together chips and dips when Will comes in during the first intermission.  

“Hey, you don’t have to do that.” He comments, rounding you at the counter to take one of the chip bags and start pouring them into a bowl.  

Shrugging, you reply, “I know but Tom asked for a snack so I figured I would just put something together for everyone.”  

He slows his motions and places the chips back on the counter, “How are, how are things going? Between you and Tom?”  

Taken aback by the question you hum, “Um, good actually. Yeah.” 

Will nods, “That’s good.”  

“Why, did he say something?” You ask suspiciously. 

“Yeah, he said that you’re going to couples therapy soon and he’s gonna try really hard to get back on the right track.” He says, with little confidence in his voice. 

Stopping what you’re doing, you turn to him and lean on the counter. “Why does your voice sound like that’s a bad thing?” You ask.  

He turns to you as well, “I just don’t want you getting hurt. I care about you, we all do, and we know what Tom is like. I don’t want you getting your hopes up for nothing.”  

His words cut through your skin like a knife, “I trust Tom and I think he’s changing. It’s a good thing.” You state confidently.  

Nodding, he collects the bowl of chips in his hands. “Okay, good. Just, be careful alright?”  

Rolling your eyes you turn back to the counter, “Whatever you say Will.” You reply sarcastically.  

He clears his throat and leaves the room; you immediately lean your hands on the counter and lower your head between your shoulders. How can he talk to you like that? You know what you’re doing, and they don’t know Tom like you do.  

Stomping back into the living room you hand Tom the tray and take a seat beside him on the couch. Sipping from your wine you eye Will across the room, unable to believe he would talk to you about Tom that way. He is changing, you know he is. When the second break comes, you decide you need to get some air rather than continue to stew in the living room.  

As you step out into the backyard with your third, fourth, maybe, glass of wine, you take a deep breath in and enjoy the sound of the frogs in Wills small pond. The rushing water of the stone water feature trickling into it begins to sooth your mind, until the creak of the screen door behind you snaps you out of your trance.  

Frankie steps into your view and nods politely, “Hey.” 

“Hey.” You say quietly, leaning against the railing of the deck as he moves to stand opposite you.  

He looks nervous as he runs his hand on his patchy beard, “I was actually hoping to talk to you tonight.” He states cautiously.  

Nodding you reply, “Okay, what about?” 

“About us.” He says, with a deep breath out.  

Your eyebrows raise and you take another sip of wine before responding. “Hm, what about us?” 

“You said that only your boyfriend should be taking you out on dates, and that’s what I want to be. I want to be your boyfriend. I want to be that person who takes you out and treats you right.” His words rush out of his mouth as if they may stick to the back of his throat if he takes too long on them.  

“What?” you stutter, “Frankie, what are you talking about? Tom is my boyfriend; this was just hooking up and it’s over now.” You state, trying to convince both him and yourself.  

He shakes his head in confusion, “Since when was this over? Didn’t seem very over when you were in my bed last week.”  

“Well, it is now, Tom and I are going to work on our relationship.” You spit at him.  

He huffs a laugh, “And you didn’t care to tell me?” 

“I didn’t NEED to tell you; you knew what this was. We weren’t exclusive, you were always welcome to meet someone else. It’s not my fault you got hung up on me.” You state, the words taste awful after you say them. You immediately drink more of your wine to calm yourself and look away from the hurt look on his face.  

His jaw falls slack, “So this is my fault then? My fault that you came crawling into my bedroom, and my kitchen and my living room every time Tom pissed you off? I didn’t ask for any of this.” 

You shrug, “Well you certainly didn’t seem to mind every time I showed up in your depressing little life.” The venom stings your tongue, and you bite it quickly, unsure of any other word that may come out.  

Frankie scoffs and adjusts his hat, taking a step back. “And what’s gonna happen next time he does something stupid? What then?” 

Shaking your head you stand your ground, “That’s not gonna happen again. We’re working on our relationship, and we’re going to couples counselling. He even booked the appointment; we’re going next Wednesday after work.”  

“You think he’s going to change? A complete 180 degree turn with a few counselling sessions. I’ve known Tom for 15 years and he hasn’t even changed his fucking socks in that time.” He all but laughs in your face.  

“I am not having this conversation, Frankie.” You roll your eyes and push past him, unable to look at his smug face another second. He doesn’t call after you, he doesn’t chase you and ask you to reconsider. He just lets you go, just like every other time.  

The fight with Frankie plays in your head on repeat. You try to enjoy how Tom has been the last few days, all doting and communicative. But there’s just this ringing in your ear of something wrong and your heart aches a little more each day.  

After another long day of work, you walk into the house and shuck your shoes off. Relishing in the feeling of your feet finally getting to rest, you head to the kitchen and smile when you find Tom standing in the kitchen dethawing some meat for dinner.  

“Hey baby.” He smiles and steps forward to kiss your cheek as you place your lunch bag and purse on the counter.  

“Hey, how was your day?” You ask, sliding up to sit on the edge of the counter, dangling your feet freely.  

Nodding, he replies, “It was good, yeah fine. Um, before I forget, you know how we haven’t had poker night with the guys in a while?” he asks, passing his phone between his hands.  

“Oh yeah, it has been a while. Why?” You ask. 

“Well good news, it’s back baby! Wednesday evening this week.” He says enthusiastically.  

Your eyebrows furrow, “But that’s when our first counselling is.” 

He clears his throat, “Oh, yeah don’t worry about that. I already cancelled it.”  

“Cancelled it? Why would you do that?” You retort.  

“Because it’s poker night, I never miss poker night.” He justifies casually.  

Scoffing, you continue, “Why cancel it though, why not reschedule?”  

“Babe,” he starts, coming over to the counter to rest his hands on your legs. “Things have already been better right? We don’t need some jackass therapist telling us how to use I feel statements. Come one, it’s us. We got this.”  

His voice is calm, but his eyes are the same as they used to be, completely dismissive. Taking a deep breath, you question everything, but one question in particular comes to mind. “Who organized the poker night?” 

He releases his grip on your legs and steps back to the meat in the sink, “It was actually Fish’s idea. I don’t usually go around singing that guys praises but I’m pretty impressed by this one.”  

There it is, fucking Frankie meddling in your relationship. He completely set Tom up because you rejected him. You’re confused, and angry and a little flattered? No, no. A little turned on by his intrusion and commitment? Honestly, get it together. Tom is flipping back to his old self right before your eyes, you are spiraling and there’s only one person to blame for all this. 

Poker night arrives and your leg bounces in anticipation as you wait to finally tell Frankie off and ask him how he dares meddle in your relationship. Walking up the steps to Frankies house you halt for a second, recalling that just a few weeks ago you were stood in the very same spot, covered by a long trench coat, ready to have him take you apart right there at the door. The rest of the guys are already there when you enter and greet you cheerfully. Tom pops a top off a beer almost immediately and settles down at the table, jeering Benny about taking all his money.  

Bennys text had said that you were going to have pizza first and then play, so that should give you enough time as everyone waits for the delivery to reprimand Frankie. He’s not in the living room so you quietly excuse yourself to the kitchen for a glass of water.  

When you round the corner, you see Frankie standing at the counter pouring a mixed drink. He looks up at you and smirks to himself before capping the whiskey bottle. “Oh hey, didn’t know if you guys could make it. Didn’t know if you had plans or-,” 

His snarky comment is cut short as you grab his elbow and swiftly start pulling him with all the strength you can through the back and into the laundry room. 

“Hey.” He laments as you toss him forward and slam the door behind you.  

You turn to him and pull your lips tight, resting your hands on your hips. He looks you up and down, leaning back on the dryer behind him.  

“You know, I remember the last time we were in here.” He says with a devilish grin. 

You briefly recall the time Frankie took you from behind while bent over the moving dryer behind him. Rolling your eyes you step forward, “What is your problem?” 

“My problem? I don’t have a problem, but I know you do. And it’s the form of the 200-pound gorilla you choose to go home to every night.” He snips at you. “Do you even realize how long it took him to text me back the other night about tonight?” 

Crossing your arms, “An hour?” you guess deadpan.  

“A minute. He cares so little about you that it only took him a minute to decide that a stupid fucking poker night was more important than your relationship.” 

Waving your hands exasperated you all but yell at him, “Fine, Frankie. You win, Tom doesn’t love me, he’s a shitty boyfriend and I shouldn’t even be with him. Is that what you want to hear?” 

“No.” He answers calmly.  

“No?”  

“No. I don’t want to hear that you’re being treated like shit, because you don’t deserve to be treated like shit. I want to hear that you felt what I felt all those times. That you want to give us a shot.” He says earnestly.  

Your heart skips in your chest, this is not how you thought the conversation would go. You thought you’d tell him off, stomp off triumphantly and leave Frankie behind. Now, you’re standing in his laundry room, trying to figure out if all that warmth you felt, and all that contentment meant the same to you that it did to him.  

Your voice comes out quiet, “I don’t know Frankie.”  

“What don’t you know baby?” he asks softly, stepping closer now.  

Letting your breath out you whisper, “He’ll kill you, Frankie.”  

He shakes his head, “I can handle Tom.”  

“And your friends? You’re supposed to be a team. What are they gonna think?”  

“I’ll figure it out, you’re worth the risk.” 

Shaking your head you look at the wall, he leans down to bring your attention back. “You haven’t said no yet.” 

Turning back to look at him, tears slowly bubbling in your eyes, he offers a gentle smile, which you return. “Um, I am not saying I’m in love with you or anything, but I do like you, Frankie. I’m sorry I wish I had more to give you right now, but this is all so new to me.”  

“Hey, hey it’s okay baby. I’ll take whatever you can give me. All I need to know right now, is if it’s me or Tom.” He says, taking your face in his hands with hopeful eyes.  

Your head spins, but thankfully, it can land on an answer. Looking up at him through your lashes, his warm hands spread across your jaw line, you reply. “It’s, - it’s you, Frankie. It’s you.”  

With that his face flies forward and takes your mouth in his. Your hands come up to his waist as you pull each other closer. Your mouths moving in sync and passion flying, a new chapter being promised with every kiss.  

The door cracking open suddenly breaks you apart, only a second too late. 

“Hey babe are you-,” Tom starts as he opens the door, but his eyes quickly darken when he takes in the sight of Frankies hands moving down from your face and yours falling to your sides faster than humanly possible. He steps in and fills the frame of the door. “What the fuck is going on in here?” 

Frankie takes hold of your body, pushing it back behind him and holding a hand out in front between he and the thunderous man before him. “Tom, please not in front of her. Let’s take this outside.”  

Will and Benny suddenly appear at the door behind Tom, Will looks at the situation and questions, “Uh, what’s going on guys?” 

Tom bites out, “What’s going on is Morales is fucking my girl.”  

“Fish?” Benny asks, concern in his voice.  

Frankie waves both of his hands cautiously, “Seriously guys, let’s just not do this here.”  

You peak over Frankies shoulder, Toms face is redder than you’ve ever seen, and Santi has now joined, each of them looking fearful.  

Santi steps into the room and places a hand on Toms chest, “Okay man, just back up okay.” 

With steam pooling out of his ears, Tom starts stepping backwards, never breaking eye contact with Frankie. He finally turns and tosses the back door open to stomp into the yard.  

Frankie takes your hand and begins to walk past Santi, he gives him a light swat on the arm and mutters. “Estupido.” 

Will pushes the door open silently for you both as each of you slowly make your way into the back yard. Tom is stood with his hands on his hips glaring at the doorway, looking straight through you.  

Frankie lets go of your hand and you watch breathlessly as he approaches Tom, “Okay, now let’s talk about thi-,” a crack sounds as Toms fist pummels into his right cheek, tossing him aside slightly.  

You gasp and Santi grabs your arm to keep you close. Will and Benny immediately run to Toms side and go to restrain him. He shoves them off, “I’m fine, just, needed to get one out of my system.”  

Will and Benny look at Frankie as he regains his positioning, he nods and rubs his cheek with his hand. They back off slightly, but don’t give the man too much space so that he can’t jump on Frankie again.  

Frankie takes his hat off his head, breathing deeply and runs his fingers through his hair before placing it back on. “What do you want to know?”  

“How long?” Tom growls through gritted teeth.  

Taking a deep gulp he replies, “4 months.” 

“You son of a bitch.” Tom says, almost in a laugh. “You two are unbelievable. Had me as a fool this whole time. I’m gonna take a wild guess that you don’t visit your sister as much as you claim.” He says to you over Frankies shoulder.  

You pull your arm out of Santis grip and step up just past Frankie to look into Toms eyes. “I’m not going to blame this on you Tom, but there is a reason I was leaving all those nights that I ended up at Frankies. You treated me like shit over and over and I finally needed to just feel cared about.” 

He huffs a laugh, “You think he cares about you? You were an easy lay and he got to get back at me for all the times I’ve pulled rank on him.” He gestures to Frankie over your shoulder. 

“He does care about me Tom, more than you do.” You spit back at him.  

“Oh, so what, you’re in love with him now?” He questions.  

Taking a deep breath, you shake your head. “No, but I’m not in love with you either so that shouldn’t fucking matter now, should it?” 

He finally silences and looks at you earnestly, “So, this is it huh?” 

Nodding, you reply. “Yeah Tom. This is it. I know this isn’t how either of us thought this would end, but I just want you to know that even if it doesn’t mean anything to you, I don’t regret our relationship. We had some good times together and I hope you find someone who can take of you the way I couldn’t.” 

Silence fills the space as everyone waits for Toms next move, even you couldn’t have predicted when he puts his hands in his jean pockets and shrugs. “Alright. You can come and get your stuff anytime; I promise I won’t touch it.” He looks back and forth at Will and Benny, “Will you guys help her some time when I’m at work?” 

They nod in agreement, and he nods back. “Okay, I’m gonna go.”  

You nod and pull your lips tight, watching him as he passes by. You turn in your spot as he passes Frankie, he says nothing, only gives him a sharp shoulder bump as he continues through the yard and up the stairs to the house.  

Frankie looks at and tries to grin, the bruise on his cheek bone quickly developing. You move towards him and take his hands in yours, “I’m so sorry I ever pulled you into this mess Frankie.”  

He shakes his head, “Don’t be, I wouldn’t change a thing.”  

“Um, guys?” you hear Wills voice question. “The fuck happened?”  

Biting your lip, you turn to look at him and Benny, both confused.  

Frankie pulls you in and nods towards the door, “Come on, we’ll explain over pizza.” 

Stepping up Frankies front porch feels different this time. There’s no fear of getting caught, no risk, no anger or frustration. He’s not going to open the door and ask you what Tom did this time or for you to take it out on him. 

When he opens his door, his smile grows in surprise. “Hey baby, I didn’t know you were coming over.” He rests his hand on the doorknob.  

Shifitng the weight between your feet you smile at him, “Well, you did tell me I didn’t have to call.”  

“That I did, come on in.” He gestures for you to enter, which you happily accept.  

You make your way over to his couch and take a seat, he follows and sits down beside you, placing a hand on yours.  

“So how did moving go?” he asks intently. 

“It was, - it was fine. Will and Benny did all the heavy lifting. My sister was certainly surprised, but she said I could stay until I find a new place. I’m gonna start apartment hunting soon.” You say, letting some air and relief out.  

He nods and continues, “And do I wanna know how the talk with Tom went?” 

“Oh yeah. He was a lot madder than he was at your place, which I get. I did cheat on him after all, no matter how much I want to justify it.” You say and he nods, giving your hand a squeeze.  

“Is he staying in the house?”  

“Actually, he is gonna sell it and move.” You state. 

His eyebrows rise in surprise, “Move? Move where?” 

“He’s gonna move closer to his brother. He said he needed a fresh start, and his brother always helps him see clearer. He won’t be around the gang anymore, he said he’s done with that chapter of his life.” You say, your heart feels a bit of sorrow for him.  

Frankie pinches the bridge of his nose with his fingers and lets out a deep breath, “I can’t believe I was the one who broke up the team, fuck.”  

You pull his hand closer and turn in your seat to face him, “Frankie, you didn’t do anything wrong. Tom and I were not meant to be together, and they all knew that. Do you realize how many times Benny or Santi checked in on me? Even Will told me to be careful. They knew it wasn’t right.” 

“I haven’t heard from any of them since that night.” He comments. 

Nodding, you reply. “I know, I talked to Will and Benny today. They said that they just need some time and to be there for Tom for now. But they’ll reach out soon, they still love you. They really do. It’ll come; I promise.”  

He bites his lip and nods before pulling his hand out of your grasp to wrap his arm around you. “Thank you, baby, I needed that. I just need you right now so that’s okay.”  

You give him a tight squeeze and then pull apart. Something catches your eye at the table by the entryway that you hadn’t see when you came in. Your eyes brighten when you ask, “What are those for?” gesturing to the bouquet of red roses laid down on their side on the small table, his keys and sunglasses scattered around them.  

He looks over his shoulder and licks his lips when he turns back to you, “I just thought you needed a little pick me up, you’ve had a rough week. Was gonna drop them off tonight.”  

Your chest warms again, and a smile breaks out across your face. You can’t help yourself as you lean forward and crash your lips onto his. His hand comes up to cup your jaw as your lips move as one.  

Desire for him builds in your body and you rise up to straddle his lap with your knees on either side of him, kicking off your sandals as you move. His hands glide to your ass and he gives you a tight squeeze through your light blue sundress. You grind down on him, the seem of his jeans catching on your clit through the thin material of your panties as they begin to dampen from your arousal. 

“Frankie,” you whisper, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Please, I need you.”  

He jerks your body on him and you moan as your aching bundle of nerves catches his cock as it grows in his jeans. “I got you baby, I’m gonna make you feel so good.” He suddenly places a hand on the back of your head, and one loops around your thigh to quickly flip you down onto the couch. He hovers above you, his hands moving up and down your thighs before skating up your skirt and taking hold of your panties. You lift your hips as he slides them down your legs and tosses them to the side. His strong nose traces your inside thigh as you watch his face disappear beneath the hem of your dress. A moan escapes your mouth as you feel the first flick of his tongue on your clit.  

His hands squeeze your thighs as his mouth devours your pussy like a man dying of thirst. He laps as every inch of you and your body responds in convulsions beneath him. All you can hear is the sound of his wet tongue dancing between your legs and your moans. Your back arches off the couch as his mouth tightens around your sensitive clit and he begins to suck, pulling it upward with his mouth. 

“Yes, yes right there! I’m gonna-,” you begin before your vision blurs your breathing stops, your orgasm sending waves of pleasure through your whole body.  

You finally gasp for air when you hear the sound of your clit pop out of his mouth and your body relaxes. You can barely focus, it’s not until you hear Frankies pants hit the floor that you realize he’s undressed and is leaning overtop of you again.  

He looks down at you as he lines himself up at your entrance. “Are you nervous? That it won’t be as good without the risk?” he asks, with caution in his voice.  

Smiling up at him you shake your head, “No, because it’s you. I know you’ll take care of me.”  

Frankie smiles back at you and leans down to take your lips into his with a searing kiss, your hands tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck as you finally feel him slide into you. A groan emits from your lips as he bottoms out in one shot and stills himself.  

He bites his lip and whispers, “Mine.” He pulls your breasts free from the top of your dress and takes your perked nipple into his mouth. His hips begin to move slowly, more lovingly, like there’s no rush. There’s no risk of a text coming through from Tom that he wants to talk, no call from Santi that he’s headed over to watch the game. When you’re done you won’t scamper into your clothes and rush out the door. You’ll just make love, let him leave as many marks on you as he wants, and snuggle on the couch, because you’re his and he’s yours.    

What'd he do this time?  Did he break your heart?  I can tell you been crying... and baby here you are.  And I always know any time you show up at my door past 11 o'clock  that he really must've pissed you off. 

Take it out on me.  Put your lips on mine.  Let me take his wrong and make it right this time.  Yeah, you can just come over, you ain't gotta call.  You always got a shoulder anytime it all goes bad,  when you're 'bout to break,  when you're mad as hell,  you can always take it out on me 

You can take it out on me baby.  If you ever wanna leave, baby.  In the middle of the night, that's alright...  You can take, take. 

Take off your coat, baby come on in.  Girl, let me help to get back at him.  And I don't know why you never say goodbye...  Whatever hell he's putting you through,  I can't wait for you to take it out on me. 

Put your lips on mine.  Let me take his wrong and make it right this time.  Yeah, you can just come over, you ain't gotta call.  You always got a shoulder anytime it all goes bad, when you're 'bout to break, when you're mad as hell, you can always take it out on me. 

Yeah, I'll lay you down and love you just the way you should be.  Baby, so now that you're ready. 

Take it out on me.  You can take it out on me baby.  If you ever wanna leave, baby.  In the middle of the night, that's alright...  You can take, take, take it out on me. 

Put your lips on mine.  Let me take his wrong and make it right this time.  Yeah, you can just come over, you ain't gotta call.  You always got a shoulder anytime it all goes bad, when you're 'bout to break, when you're mad as hell, you can always take it out on me. 

You can take it out on me baby.  If you ever wanna leave, baby.  In the middle of the night, that's alright...  You can take, take, take it out on me. 

[dearpyramus]

a different side of you: a lip gallagher x reader oneshot

while working on a school project, you catch a glimpse of a different side of lip gallagher

warnings: none! (for once), 628 words

a/n: apologizies this is so short i kinda rushed but its been hard finding motivation lately. hope that's ok. some rivals to lovers (or as least as much as I could fit in)

(fic btc)

It was a long fucking afternoon.

You had the misfortune of being paired up with Lip Gallagher, of all people, for an important school project. It took too long for you both to find time to work on it, who knows what Lip was doing with his time. It took even longer for you to agree on how you wanted to execute it.

You wanted to scream. God, he was insufferable.

The patter of the rain from outside was the only thing keeping you calm. You always found serenity in storms. The chaos of it all was relaxing in a way.

Maybe that’s why you were secretly enjoying your time in the Gallagher house today. You didn’t want to think of it.

A flash of lighting followed by a roar of thunder allowed you to settle a bit. This was quickly interrupted by the soft sound of a whine. You furrowed your brows in confusion, clearly it wasn’t coming from Lip.

Almost in sync, you and Lip turned your head to the source of the noise. By the doorway of the latter’s bedroom stood Liam Gallagher, Lip’s baby brother. Your eyes couldn’t help but dart to Lip’s, who was sporting a soft frown.

“What’s wrong, bud?”

This was a stark contrast to his usual demeanor and it nearly caused you to do a double take. You never heard Lip speak in this voice; so soft it was almost a coo. You didn’t know what to think at first. You didn’t want to think about how it made your heart flip.

Liam’s was about to reply when another crackle of thunder boomed throughout the night sky. This earned another whine from the tiny kid, who was nervously grasping the hem of his Blues Clues pajamas.

You could have sworn you heard him let out an “awww.” You weren’t quite sure, though.

Before you could register any movement, Lip got up and gently scooped his kid brother in his arms. You didn’t miss the way Liam clung onto him, as if he was an anchor amidst the storm. You wanted to look away; it was too fucking precious. Who know Lip Gallagher could pull at your heartstrings like that?

“Awww ya scared of the storm? Is that it?”

At Lip’s words, Liam nodded against his chest. His tiny body trembled, causing Lip’s brows to furrow.

“Hey hey—shhhh. It alright, buddy. The storm can’t hurt you. You’re okay,” he murmured, slowly beginning to rock Liam back and forth.

You tried to pay attention to your portion of the project but your eyes were constantly drawn to the scene in-front of you. Obviously, you knew Lip wouldn’t be mean to his brother, yet you didn’t expect this. Any chance of getting anything done at that moment was momentarily abandoned.

Why was this so heartwarming to you? You couldn’t stand Lip.

“Just relax. I’m here, I’m here. Just focus on me, okay?”

Lip continued to comfort Liam as if you weren’t there. Either he didn’t catch you staring or just ignored you, too occupied with his distressed brother. He rubbed circles into his tiny back and shushed him during each thunder strike. Eventually, you noticed he began to hum an incoherent tune. It was too much.

“That’s it, I gotcha…big brother’s here. Big brothers right here,” he soothed, voice so soft you could just barely make out the words. Liam seemed to visibly relax as Lip resumed his comforts.

“Nothing will happen to you, I promise”

God, you hated how much it was affecting you. Never did you except loud-mouthed Lip Gallagher to be so soft spoken. You wanted to cry at the sight. You secretly wished you would see this side of Lip more often, maybe you would tolerate him more. Maybe.

tagged for: @maggiesarchives @mouseymilkovich @golden-hoax @its-rach-writes

dividers

[im-just-a-mississippi-girl]

Painted Him Perfect

Pairing: Austin Gunn x ex-wife!reader

Category: Angst

Word count: 824

Summary: You finally decide it’s time to be honest about your marriage with Austin Gunn. About how you painted him perfect.

Warnings: None

A/N: I know it’s been 63936383629 years since I last posted a fic 🤣 but here I am! Based off Painted Him Perfect by Alexandra Kay

Masterlist

Taglist

Moodboard is not mine. Credit goes to @katries 😘

There he was, your ex-husband, laughing with his friends like everything was perfect. Perfect. If only they knew just how perfect their buddy Austin Gunn truly was.

You knew after these past several months it was time to be honest. It was time to be honest with your friends, with your family.

The honest truth is that no matter how many times you sang his praises, drove or flew hours and hours to see him, he would mention over and over how he hated the attention. You didn’t understand because you thought that was what he wanted.

Arguments were more common between you two than they should have been. Couples therapy didn’t do any good no matter how hard you tried, tears in your eyes and streaming down your cheeks. Austin never really tried to make it work, never told his truth in therapy. That was rock bottom for you, for your marriage. His true colors and true character shone bright in that therapist’s office. That’s when you knew it was over, when you knew you couldn’t keep painting him perfect, when he couldn’t even attempt to make an effort to work on the relationship. A relationship that you thought was true love but it was all just a slap in the face.

Kris Statlander and Willow Nightingale were two of your closest friends. You met them through Austin so maybe you have one good thing to come out quite possibly the worst relationship you’ve ever been in.

“Hey!” You heard Willow’s upbeat voice coming from your left.

“Hey.” You sighed. Now is the time to tell them. They’re your best friends, plus you have nothing to hide. You fought tooth and nail for your marriage to get better, to please Austin in order to keep the storm clouds away.

“I know that voice. What’s wrong?” Kris was never one to beat around the bush. She noticed you haven’t made any effort to look their way. Her eyes followed yours and she knew immediately who you were looking at. Austin Gunn and the rest of Bullet Club Gold. “You two have an argument?” Kris turned back to you, her head tilted as she studied your face.

Understatement of the century.

Willow shook her head. “I don’t think that’s it. I think maybe—”

“I need to be honest here girls.” You finally looked at your friends and you saw you had their undivided attention, so you let the floodgates fall. Maybe you should have went somewhere more private than roughly 8 feet away from the Bang Bang Gang but part of you wanted passersby to hear, his friends to hear. You just knew that if you didn’t speak your truth then another woman would fall victim to his charm and nice guy act only to be in for heartbreak and misery.

By the time you were finished, Kris’s and Willow’s jaws were on the floor. You didn’t leave anything out. You told the story of how the seemingly ‘perfect’ marriage was all because you made it out to be that way. You told them how you always excused things away as ‘that’s what love is’, but now you knew better. You recalled the big scene Austin caused on vacation at the beach in Atlantic City back in August. August 14th to be exact. Unfortunately, you’ll never forget that date because you’ve never been more embarrassed and ashamed. You even admitted to ignoring the red flags, the red flags you always said you would never let slide. Retelling these stories made you realize that you were yellow and he was green, blue was always going to be the color of your relationship.

During your storytelling, some tears must have fell because felt Willow squeeze your hand, in an effort to comfort. Kris on the other hand was connecting the dots before you’d finish a story.

“That’s what really happened to us. No amount of couples therapy could save us because he didn’t want to save us. Not even when I begged for him to, cried for him to. So the best thing I could do was to paint him perfect so no one knew a thing about just how miserable and embarrassing our relationship truly was.”

“He didn’t deserve for you to paint him perfect.” Kris was fuming. You knew if you gave her the green light she would make that boy’s life pure hell. It was tempting but you wanted something else for him instead.

All you could do was agree. “You’re right I shouldn’t have and it’s a good thing I’m not doing it anymore.”

You didn’t hate Austin Gunn, you didn’t like him, and you sure as hell didn’t love him — at least not anymore. Although, you did want him to feel the pain you felt, you wanted him to be heartbroken. Okay, so maybe you did hate him a little bit, but could anyone really blame you after you told the truth?

General Taglist: @legit9thlunaticwarrior @plentyoffandoms @1dluver13xx @sunshinevirus @wwenhlimagines @crowleysqueenofhell @jackson-nickthedate @omg-im-such-a-masochist @kmc1989

[tikus-library]

"The Look"

Avengers AU - Quick Fic

Characters: Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Reader

Posted: Jan 20th

WARNINGS: none, idiots being idiots

A/N: I was at the laundromat yesterday when I saw the gif and needed to write something- so gave this.

Like, Comments, & Reblogs are always appreciated and loved.

**Please Do Not Repost or 'Fix' My Work**

Leave kudos on Ao3

“Here comes Y/N! Do the thing- do the thing!” Sam elbowed him, shit eating grin in place.

Bucky sighed with his entire soul, “Sam, it doesn't do anything, it's just a look, that's all, it doesn't matter”

“If it doesn't matter then do it.”

“Why would I?” He shot back as Sam stopped, shifted his hip out and crossed his arms.

Sam rolled his eyes to Steve, “he won't do the thing!”

“Steve get your friend”

“He's more your friend than mine these days pal,” Steve chuckled.

“Here she comes… you should see how she reacts to it, you'd understand me Steve, this one here is just an idiot.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes as Steve shrugged, shook his head and raised his hands in classic ‘I don't know’ fashion. “fine-” he bit out, stepping out between them and tipping his head down and looking up at you.

Today couldn't get worse. Today everything was wrong. Today every file that was sent to you was backwards or upside down, some were even corrupted and Tony thought it was the funniest shit, as if you could be any later now you had to do a quick debriefing of the three stooges that were currently coming back in from a mission and really as if you didn't get enough shoved on your plate– wonderful, you perked up realizing the three were right there, together, you could get it done in five minutes as long as you heckled them.

You could just stare at Steve or Sam. They were good, wholesome, wonderful guys that were not the sergeant. Not that Bucky wasn't wholesome or handsome– actually he was very handsome, distractingly so, especially when he smiled, or put his hand through his hair, or just breathed in your general vicinity.

Speaking of the Sergeant you saw him step forwards and meet your gaze, head dropping, hair shifting forwards to frame his face, lips pressed down and bright blue eyes focused on you.

Your brain flat lined.

Y/N stopped in her tracks, her determined steps halting, Bucky cocked his head to the side and was surprised when she did an abrupt about face and practically RAN back in the direction she had come from. He shoved a hand into his face.

Great, now you were scared of him, as if he didn't have enough trouble figuring out what to say to you. Now you wouldn't show your face around him.

Steve guffawed, bringing Bucky back out of his depressed thoughts. “Good gawd Buck, I forgot the effect you had on a woman.”

“What?!” He demanded, “she ran out of here in fear for her life!” Sam cracked, a howl of laughter spilling forth, Bucky clenched his fists, “you think that's funny?”

Sam clapped a hand on his shoulder, “that wasn't fear man! That girl wants you, she wants you real bad.”

Bucky jerked back, blinking hard. “No.”

Steve nodded as he looked over at him. “That wasn't fear pal, that was panic, I can tell you this much – Y/N is quiet because when she does speak she can't keep her mouth in check, which usually tends to land her in hot water.”

Bucky turned to Sam, who was wiping away a few tears, “she has literally called us both hot, but said there was no way she would date us.”

“But when I asked her for her opinion on you–” Steve laughed, but sobered and leveled a look at him, “buddy, ya need to talk to her.”

“It was pretty colorful,” Sam murmured

“What did she say?” Bucky asked.

Sam shook his head, looking over at Steve, “did you see the way she shivered at the look?”

Steve nodded laughing as he moved around Bucky, “makes you realize what she said had to be true.”

Sam gasped as the two continued to walk, “Y/N! She really is full of surprises! Scandalous!!!”

“WHAT DID SHE SAY?!” Bucky cried following the two.

[erinawritesheadcanons2]

Yo!! Buddy!! My friend!! Can I have a headcanons of soundwave, shockwave and starscream with s/o who got infected with cybonic plague (like the one that happened to Optimus).

Soundwave, Shockwave, and Starscream with S/O Who Got Infected with Cybonic Plague

➽───────────────❥➽───────────────❥

A/N: Thank you Anon for requesting this HCS! I'm sorry for the long update, it has been such a hectic day because of college and research. I hope you understand!

Gender: None

Warning: Angst to Fluff, sickness, mention of injuries and Profanities

➽───────────────❥➽───────────────❥

Soundwave

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

You might think he doesn't care because he always uses the visor on his face and he rarely expresses his expression, unlike some Autobots or Decepticons.

But that is totally wrong if you think he doesn't care if you got infected by the Cybonic Plague. In fact, he is the most caring one of all of the Decepticons.

He knows crying or worrying while standing in there without doing anything won't help or fix your condition in any way so he immediately rushes out to help you.

Instead of going to ask Megatron straight in the face and asking for the cure to help your Cybonic Plague. He will search for the cure through the pieces of information and data from the computer before collecting the pieces of information.

Afterward, Soundwave immediately searches all of the sources for the cure to your Cybonic Plague and collects it before he secretly brings it to the laboratory when there is no Knockout.

Even if he is a mute, don't mistake him for a fool because he definitely knows how to read the formula before he makes the medicine with his own hands without Knockout's help.

As he was done with the medicine, he would straight be reaching out to you before he helps you with the sickness and wait it out until it works.

In conclusion, you are always in the safe hands of Soundwave hands because he knows what he needs to do to help you around, even if you had a deadly sickness of Cybonic plague.

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

Searching for the last piece remaining of Predacon on the earth was difficult because the Autobots keeps trying to get all of the Decepticons away from it, including (Y/N) (L/N). Seeing how determined the Autobots are, you were working together with Knockout and the rest of the Vehicons.

In the desert of the Sahara, Egypt. There was an abandoned spaceship of Autobots where tons of troops were already dead in there so it was safe from getting ambushed by the Autobots. Carefully, the two of you and Knockout get inside the abandoned spaceship and continue your way by going straight,

"We are getting near," Knockout mumbles but loud enough for you to hear it.

"Where is it?" You ask the red car Decepticon.

"On the left behind the door. We need to break the door if we need to get inside," Knockout points it out.

"Alright, "You follow him from behind, letting him lead the way since he had the detector in his hand.

Once the two of you arrived, the beeping sound from the detector got louder and louder, the signal was getting stronger until the Aston Marin Decepticon across from you putting the detector away and his hands grabbing the metallic sliding door, together with you on his side before the two of you pulling the door away.

As the door moved away with a loud screeching sound after getting pulled by two Decepticons. A pair of (E/C) optics, as well as red optics, could see a giant cylinder of glass glowing with a bright blue Energon and inside of the tube, there are the bones of the Predacons floating inside of it.

"There it is-" Knockout immediately got off.

"I'll go in!" You step inside carelessly.

"Wait-" Knockout tries to warn you but you didn't hear him at all. The abandoned ship slowly shakes, causing another sound of screeching and it was louder on the ceiling. Wondering, both of your optics looked up to see a dead Autobot corpse but what was more surprising is a tiny drop that fell out of the corpse and went straight into one of your eyes. Causing you to hiss and squeal in pain "Ouch! My optics!" You shouted.

"(Y/N)!" Knockout eyes widened in horror, knowing you are infected with Cybonic Plague.

‿︵‿︵＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／︵‿︵‿Timeskip

Standing next to you, the Decepticon with a visor on his face as well as Knockout next to him looking at you with rust already forming around your face. It was hard for you to see your surrounding but you knew that your spark mate is close to you. Even if he did not speak nor show any emoticon on the visor, the MQ-9 Reaper Decepticon Jet keeps looking at his spark mate, worried if you are going offline sooner.

Even though the beeping sound from the machine is still loud and clear, showing that you are still alive from the Cybonic Plague. Soundwave knew he needs to be fast to save you from getting offline as he stepped away from the laboratory, letting Knockout handle your illness first before he is getting the cure for the Cybonic Plague.

The silent jet trudges to the main room of the nemesis secretly without making any noises as he knew asking the lord of the Decepticon is not only impossible but also it's like asking for suicide. There is no other way to steal the formula of the medicine for the illness.

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Shockwave

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

Shockwave is also another Decepticons that does not let emotions get the best of him just like Soundwave does but the only difference is that he is less caring than the silent mech.

Unlike Soundwave, he cares about work more than everyone in the spaceship so it would be a huge struggle for you if you have a Cybonic Plague.

Although, Shockwave does try to make you feel better and gives a little bit of attention to you even though he is really busy with his lab work, especially when he's going to make Predaking.

Unlike the Silent Mech once again, he is someone direct and doesn't try to sneak around. To get the cure of the Cybonic Plague, he will ask Megatron straight in the face.

He's aware that there is a consequence to trying to talk with Megatron and because of that. He would ask Lord Megatron when he is not in a better or in a neutral mood since the chance of Megatron killing him in those moods is smaller.

If Megatron doesn't let him have the formula, he would do what Soundwave does which is search the information through the database and computers.

If the Leader of the Decepticons gives the formula cure of Cybonic Plague to him, he would be rushing out to you and quickly help after he was done with his lab work.

I am sorry if you are hoping Shockwave is as caring as Soundwave because if I had to be honest, he doesn't care. He does help you but not out of guilt it was rather because he knows it's wrong to just abandon your S/O when they are dying.

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

If you had to choose your faith, you would choose to have a higher rank and not do a dangerous mission by investigating the Decepticon's ship that crashes into the earth but here you are standing with Knockout. The two of you were required by the Lord of the Decepticon if there are any cons that survived the crash.

Arriving in the desert, the heat of the sun feels like a burning pit of hellfire even though you're not made by skin and bones like a human but it was still torturing for a bot like you none of the less. Once the two of you goes inside the wrecked ship, Knockout's hands shoved right in front of your face and block your way "Careful sweet spark, look at your surrounding. There are tons of corpses that are infected by an unknown virus. Be careful when we go inside," Knockout shows the detector as it goes beeping like crazy.

"Alright," You carefully step inside, listening to Knockout's words since you did not want to end up offline.

Not only it was creepy but the smell of rust was strong, bothering you and knockout as the medic doctor scrunch his face in disgust. But that did not stop the two of you from searching for any survivors or maybe any important artefacts that can be used if the two of you decide to bring them home together when the two of you did not find any survivors.

Opening the last room, there was indeed an artefact inside of the middle of the room. Excited, you began walking out to reach it and Knockout was too late to stop you "(Y/N)! WAIT! DON'T GO INSIDE!" and the ship was shaking, causing the dead corpse that was hanging on the ceiling from an infected energon liquid to your shoulder"AAAHH!!! IT BURNS!!!" you held your shoulder that is beginning to rust.

‿︵‿︵＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／︵‿︵‿Timeskip

Laying down on the berth bed, you could see Shockwave standing next to Knockout with a Datapad in his hands or servos, you could not help but time in happy, thinking that Shockwave really cares about you after having a Cybonic Plague. "Shockwave, I'm-" but that smile of yours was replaced with a shock when you hear him.

"Doctor, please explain to me why (Y/N) is here in your lab?"

"I'm sorry Shockwave but your spark mate has a Cybonic plague after our mission," Knockout explained to the emotionless robot.

If a robot could sigh, Shockwave would have already done it, "Cybonic Plague? I am certain it is because of (Y/N)'s Recklessness when doing the mission."

"Yes but no, at least sugarcoat your word and maybe uhh...help your (S/O), Shockwave," Knockout almost cringes at Shockwave's cold attitude.

The large Decepticon was silent for a moment, thinking something before he gives a brief nod to the red medic of the deception "I will see what I can do to get the Cybonic Plague Cure and please keep looking out for (Y/N)'s condition and make them/her/him stay out of any trouble," Shockwave said before walking away from the laboratory to get the Cybonic Plague cure.

"Yeesh...that creepy doc sure is a sparkless bot out here. Sorry 'bout that sweet spark," he shivers before he saunters away to create at least something to slow down the rust on your shoulder pad.

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Starscream

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

Oh, darling. I feel so bad for Starscream if he sees you or his S/O having a deadly Cybonic Plague like what happened to Optimus Prime. He feels like a piece of shit.

He might be an asshole like Megatron but that does not mean he does not have any feelings. In fact, he is the most sensitive one of the Decepticons.

Seeing you dying and going through as painful as what happened to Optimus Prime going to tear his sparks apart and when no one is around, he keeps thinking about your condition.

Unlike Shockwave and Soundwave, Starscream would have a little bit of a drama reaction when he sees you like this but it did not last long as he immediately tries and solution to help you

In my opinion, he does know a little bit of medical stuff but not as good as Knockout or has the skill to fix some of the dangerous sicknesses or heavy injuries.

Because he is intelligent, Starscream is able to fly and steal the formula cure from Megatron by sneaking it inside of his head or through the Database and stealing it.

Once he was done making the cure for you, he is immediately trying to help you with your Cybonic Plague until you are better and Starscream would be staying next to you the whole time.

Even if he is a seeker and one of the weakest fighters in Decepticon. He is surprisingly protective over you, not letting any bots or cons get close to you unless it's someone he trusts and has found the cure.

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

There are many shipwrecks near the area where Starscream and you stay together, especially in the desert of Nevada in the United States of America. It was better staying together with Starscream rather than staying in the Nemesis where there's the leader of the Decepticon. Not only Starscream but there were also times where were you were the victim of Megatron's wrath. He does not care if you are Non-binary, female or male. If you made a mistake, he would throw you around and beat you up as a form of punishment.

Enough with the warlord attitude like a five-year-old sparkling that always throws a temper tantrum when they didn't get what they want, the two of you and Starscream decides to leave and create a new Armada together. Of course, to do that, you need tons of energons and some parts of the machine that is difficult to find but Nevada has many Decepticons and Autobots shipwrecks so it was easy to find some.

Standing in front of the Autobot Shipwreck, the detector was beeping out loud, "We're here, careful sweet spark. There might be Autobot that still survives or scraplets," you told your spark mate Starscream, earning a small grunt from the Decepticon. "Yeah whatever, let's just go inside, we need all of the energons we could find and some parts," he steps inside carefully.

Rolling both of your optics, you couldn't understand why the hell your spark mate is being a grump in the morning. None of the less, you choose to follow your spark mate from behind and glance around the destroyed Autobot Shipwreck, stealing some energy and some machine parts.

Once the two of you reach the main room of the ship, there were many energons, both red energons and blue energons "That's weird...there's red Energon," you whispered to yourself but Starscream's optics were wide once he sees there's many Energon in the main room.

"Yessss!! There are many energons. The Extractor would create lots of Armada if we have all of those!" Starscream sauntered to the centre of the room.

But the seeker did not look around not being careful with his pedes or his step, causing the abandoned ship to move around. Your optics sees there was a corpse that was tangled on the ceiling but what makes it more alarming was the dead Autobot has rust all over his body, making you gasp in surprise and run up to Starscream.

"STARSCREAM! GET AWAY!" You push your spark mate away as you see an infected liquid energon seeping out and going to fall on top of your sparkmate's head.

"Hey! What the frag is-" He turns around to scold you because he almost falls flat on his face but as the liquid touches on the side of your face, almost infecting your eyes, he could hear the loud scream of pain from you.

"AAAHHH!! MY FACE!! SHIT! IT'S BURNING!!" You screech, covering your face that is starting to rust.

"(Y/N)! SCRAP!!" He wrapped his servo around your arms, pulling you closer to his chest and seeing the side of your face that starts to turn brown.

"Scrap, we need to go back quickly as we can. T-then, I will go to the nemesis to find the antidote," his spark was beating in guilt, cannot see you in pain like this.

"B-but Megatron," You didn't want Megatron to find your spark mate and beat the hell out of him.

"I don't care! Let's just go back and arrest!," he glares before he wraps your arms around his back and his other servos and slides his other servo underneath your knees, carefully picking you up and clenching his teeth, He couldn't lose you, he doesn't want you to die in the hands of the Cybonic Plague and if he had to steal the antidote from Megatron, he is going to do it to save you from offlining.

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[well-what-did-you-expect]

hey!! if you’re taking requests, i’d like to request the tmnt 2012 turtles falling for a fem! reader who’s basically like your stereotypical raph. she loves fighting, loves working out, loud asf, short-tempered, blunt, sarcastic, cursed with resting bitch face, all that jazz. but, once you get to know her, she’s actually really funny and sweet. NEVER afraid to speak her mind, so she may come across as rude or sassy at times, but she never really means to be. DEFINITELY has mild adhd and is on the autism spectrum. 🫶

TMNT2012 : Modern Day Cain

included : leonardo “leo” hamato, raphael “raph” hamato, donatello “donnie” hamato, michelangelo “mikey” hamato

summary : hcs: the boys falling for a reader who is similar to raph (attitude, rough and tough act, head-strong, short-tempered, etc.)

warnings : none? pretty sure

disclaimers : fem!reader, she/her & you/your pronouns

track [1 of 1] : modern day cain , i don’t know how but they found me

word count : 618

Leonardo "Leo" Hamato

When Leo first met you and saw that you had attitude, his first thought was 'Oh, great, another Raph.'

It took them a while to get past your rough and tough exterior, but once they got to know you better, they started falling, and they fell HARD.

Full on tripping over her words, getting flustered easily, you're the only thing on her mind when she realizes that she likes you.

Definitely talks to Master Splinter about you.

Would never bring his crush on you up to his brothers, especially Raph.

"So when I have an attitude, you hate it, but when she has an attitude, you think it's adorable?!" would be Raph's reaction upon finding out.

Because you are very head-strong, sometimes you and Leo end up butting heads due to your opinions differing.

You would definitely be workout buddies with Raph.

Also when fixating on something, Mikey loves having infodump sessions with you, especially if you both are fixated on something similar/the same thing.

Leo loves when you get along with their brothers.

Raphael "Raph" Hamato

In the beginning, you and Raph are constantly butting heads. You both are very short-tempered and head-strong so when your opinions differ, it's a bull match between you two.

After some time, it's not as bad as it was, you learn to compromise.

They teach you some stuff as a way of flirting without being obvious.

It takes a while for him to get a crush on you, he's supposed to be the tough guy, he doesn't have time for feelings.

But everytime you remind them that being strong involves being in tune with your feelings, they start to allow themself to fall for you.

He doesn't understand his feelings for you, he's confused. Like 'Why does my stomach feel weird whenever we're training together? Why can't I think straight when I talk to her?'

They don't want to get teased by their brothers so they keep their crush a secret, but everyone knows, except for you.

Donatello "Donnie" Hamato

Similar to Leo, he's not excited that you are basically another Raph. He's not a fan of the short-tempered, sarcastic, loudness that is you.

Being more logical and rational, he clashes with your 'punch first, ask questions later' attitude. But hey, they do say opposites attract.

Once he realizes that he's starting to like you, he tries to avoid you as much as possible. He's had his human-mutant "relationship" experience and it didn't go well. *cough* April *cough*

When you let down your tough exterior is when he falls hard, he basically smacked the floor with how hard he fell.

He's in love with your sense of humor. If you were to crack a joke that had anything to do with science or robotics, he would fall harder than ever.

Michelangelo "Mikey" Hamato

Being the baby brother, Mikey knows how his hot-headed brother is. He knows that Raph can be caring, despite the rough exterior.

Mikey figures you're the same way. Tough on the outside, soft on the inside.

They fall hard and fast, completely head over heels for you. They're like a lovesick puppy, following at your feet, treating you like a princess.

His crush on you is obvious to everyone, except you. At first, you think it's annoying how he's always by your side, but over time, he starts to grow on you.

If you were to come into the kitchen when they were cooking and matched his goofy energy, they would break. They love it so much.

Don't even get me started on when you both are hyper together. You two being energetic and chaotic, he loves it! Although the others aren't too happy with all the commotion if they're busy (which they most likely are).

[euphreana]

The Shape of Truth - Chapter 7: Unit 531

Masterpost

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Knightly Storage required a passcode to get in. The key tag hadn’t included that - it just had the name and unit number; 531. And 531 wasn’t the code.

The storage building was a tall, stone structure with a side entrance hidden from the street by some towering bushes. An awning over the door blocked the rain as Ambrosius stared at the keypad next to the doorway. Nimona, next to him, shifted into a hulking humanoid with large hands.

“We could break in.” She said with a grin, flexing an arm.

Ambrosius rolled his eyes.

“That would be illegal.”

Nimona smirked and shifted back to a teen.

“As if today wasn’t already toeing the line.”

“We didn’t… break any laws.”

“Sure. We just bent them a little.”

“Exactly. A knight must uphold the rules that keep us in order.”

Nimona groaned.

“Come on… don’t tell me you haven't broken at least ONE rule at least ONCE in your life.”

Ambrosius still looked unamused.

“Even if I did, I wouldn't be telling YOU about it.”

“Aw, why not?”

“Because I still don't know anything about you! I don't even know how old you are, or if ‘Nimona’ is even your real name!”

Nimona was silent while Ambrosius tried to figure out the door code, punching in several numerical combinations off the top of his head. The keypad flashed red each time.

Nimona’s voice broke his concentration.

“They never told you how your dad really died, did they?” she said, seemingly out of nowhere.

Ambrosius gave her a side glance.

“What in Gloreth's name are you talking about?”

“I mean you were just a kid - they didn't want you to think he was a bad man or anything - nothing you could possibly blabber to the wrong person about. They told you he went out for a few drinks with his knight buddies, got plastered, and then walked in front of a speeding truck, right?”

Ambrosius looked wary.

“That's... what happened.”

“That's what they WANTED you to think happened. That's what they wanted EVERYONE to think happened. They couldn't let Gloreth's name get dragged in the mud, could they?”

Ambrosius didn’t look convinced.

“So you're saying there was a coverup.”

"I'm saying you never saw him drunk before, did you?”

“I don’t remember. Maybe?”

“Believe me, you didn’t.”

“How would you know?”

“I’m telling you - I’m full of information about your family.”

Ambrosius turned back to the keypad.

“Aaaand now you're just sounding creepy. One less reason for me to trust you.”

“Think about it though! The man never got drunk. So how did he get so tipsy that night he didn't see the truck coming?”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

“Hey, you don't have to take my word for it - with your rank, you can go to the medical records building and see the original coroner's report for yourself.”

Ambrosius typed in another combination.

“Maybe I will. Or maybe I won't. What difference would it make? He’s still dead.”

The keypad flashed red again. Ambrosius sighed. He was quickly realizing he could stand here all day trying different combinations and none of them work. He waved a hand towards the other side of the building.

“Come on, let’s go to the office.”

“I still vote ‘break in’.”

Ambrosius gave her a weary look. Nimona held her hands up.

“I mean bend, not break.”

~ ~ ~

There was already a woman arguing with the clerk when Nimona, now matching Ambrosius’s height and age, entered the office, followed by Ambrosius himself. Fortunately, there was another worker passing by whom Nimona was able to flag down.

“Heeeeeey… I totally forgot the passcode for the door. Could you let me in?”

The worker pointed to the desk.

“Sure, just show them your ID.”

“ID… yeah… you know, I think I left it at home. I just ran over here to get something” she dangled the storage key in her hand.

The worker gave a forced smile.

“Talk to the desk.”

They both looked at the discussion at the desk. It didn’t look like it was going to end soon.

Nimona held a hand up, “Come on, me and my brother just need to grab something real quick.”

“Talk to the desk.”

“What if I slid you a 20 goldpiece?”

“Talk to the desk.” The worker pushed past her, off on their own errand.

Nimona glanced at Ambrosius with a look that said ‘ok we tried it your way and it didn’t work.’ Ambrosius shrugged and jerked his head towards the desk. This could still work - his own ID would draw attention, but maybe Nimona could work something out.

“For the last time, we can’t let you use acid on the lock!” The clerk behind the desk was saying, “You either find your key or find a licensed locksmith to remove the lock for you.”

The woman in front of the desk waved a hand desperately.

“But what if—”

“We can recommend a locksmith for you if you don’t want to do the footwork yourself.”

“— I fill the lock with water, and then freeze it! Water expands when frozen, so the lock should break right off!”

“Miss Bitsmore, there are other people waiting in line behind you.”

“It’s Blitzmeyer! Meredith Blitzmeyer!”

“Miss Blitzmeyer, would you like the number for the locksmith or not?”

“I’m telling you, I can’t afford a locksmith! My lab burned down and I’m living off savings!”

Ambrosius’s ears perked up. The initials from the sword invoice flashed in his mind. MB!

The clerk didn’t miss a beat, sliding a business card across the desk.

“You can find the number here. Let us know when you plan to come. Next!”

The woman waved her hands in exasperation and stomped out the door, not bothering to take the card. The clerk tapped an intercom button on the desk.

“Hey, keep an eye on unit 531 - we might get someone trying to break into it.” Then the clerk looked up at Nimona. “Can I help you?”

Nimona gave a toothy grin.

“Heyyyy, I need to get in but I forgot the passcode. My ID is—”

Ambrosius hurried forward and grabbed Nimona by the arm.

“Hey you know what? I think I remember where you left your ID!” He pulled her toward the door. “Come on!”

~ ~ ~

It had started to rain in earnest now. Meredith Blitzmeyer walked hands-free, umbrella balanced on her shoulder thanks to the weights built into the bent shaft and handle. She'd designed that part herself, and more.

“Excuse me missus umbrella lady...”

Meredith looked down to see a small boy suddenly standing in front of her. He was dressed in tatters and looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

“I can't find my mommy... She went through that scary alley over there.” the child pointed, shivering in the rain. “Could you help me find her? Pwease....?” He looked up at her with sad puppy eyes.

Meredith glanced around. There were other people walking down the street, but nobody was stopping to see if the child was alright. Nobody except her. She sighed.

“Come on, let’s find your mom.” She took the child by the hand and started down the alleyway.

She hadn’t gotten far before she sensed someone else behind her. She glanced over her shoulder. Sure enough, there was a tall, hooded figure barely a meter behind her. Of course. Meredith could have slapped herself for being so gullible.

The hooded figure reached out, but Meredith was faster. Before either the child or the stranger could react, she’d swung her umbrella off her shoulder, collapsing it and shoving the end into the stranger’s chest. A crackle of electricity rippled through the air and the hooded figured dropped like a stone.

Meredith broke into a run. The street was close. Just a few meters… A beastly snarl echoed down the alley as a set of jaws clamped around her leg, yanking her to the ground. Meredith tried to get back up, but the grip on her leg wouldn’t let go. It started to drag her backwards, away from the street, back into the dark alley.

The electrified umbrella was still in her hands. Meredith turned and swung it at the beast, electricity arcing at its tip. She almost hit it. It let go of her instead, ducking out of the way. That was all the time she needed to get back to her feet. But before she could run, the hooded figure slammed into her, knocking her back to the ground. Then the beast - a large, pink wolf - grabbed the umbrella in its jaws and yanked it away.

Meredith blinked in surprise. Pink? The next thing she knew, the hooded figure had rolled off her and the wolf was towering above her, teeth bared.

A man’s voice rang out, angry.

“Who are you working for?!”

The question caught Meredith by surprise.

“What?!”

“We know you ordered the sword!”

“I didn’t—”

“We have paperwork - with your initials on it! You had the sword - the sword that killed the queen - the sword that framed Ballister, that got him killed…” The man’s voice broke.

Meredith tried to look at the source of the voice, but the wolf growled at the slightest movement. The man found his voice again, wavering as it was.

“I should turn you in now. There’s enough evidence here. That’ll be enough to prove his innocence, and then… then…”

The wolf spoke in a female voice.

“Hey, keep it together man. We’ve got an interrogation here.”

Meredith, fully bewildered by now, broke in.

“I didn’t do it! They ordered the sword in my name and then burned down my lab when I said I wouldn’t put the blaster in it! …. I can show you the emails!”

The man sank to his knees next to her. Meredith got a look at his face.

“Wait, you’re the Goldenlocks guy!”

Ambrosius didn’t bat an eye.

“Yeah. Something like that.”

“Ohhh no… I- I didn’t do anything wrong! I swear I thought I was designing mining equipment! Good Gloreth I talk too much…”

“Why didn’t you say something after they arrested Ballister?”

“I thought he was the one who’d ordered the sword! I- I didn’t want to get in any more trouble!” Meredith blinked several times under her glasses. “They already killed my friends in the fire…”

There was a long silence. Then the wolf spoke again.

“You think she’s telling the truth?”

“Not all of it.” Ambrosius turned back to Meredith. “You said there were emails. Show me.”

Meredith hesitated.

“Ah, you see, I don’t have my work email on my phone - I use my laptop for that. And I left that at home.”

Silence. Meredith spoke again.

“So if you could let me go….”

“We found this at your old lab.” Ambrosius said, holding up the misplaced storage key.

Meredith’s eyes grew wide. Ambrosius pocketed the key and continued.

“Meet us at the library. We’ll be in a study room under the name ‘Goldenlocks’. Bring the laptop. Otherwise I toss the key and give the sword invoice to Security.”

“But… I have somewhere to be…”

“You have two hours.”

Meredith looked like she wanted to say something else, but thought better of it. She didn’t want to get on the bad side of a noble, much less a knight. She nodded instead.

The wolf backed up. Meredith scuttled backwards, grabbing her umbrella and getting to her feet. She paused to brush the water from her clothes.

"If I can ask... You said you thought Ballister was framed. Why? Didn't he confess to the murder?"

Ambrosius hesitated.

"I don't think that confession was from him. It didn't... sound like him."

Meredith gave an unimpressed “Oh,” then flicked her umbrella open and hurried back to the street. Still in the alley, Nimona shifted back to dog form, suddenly dry as she ducked under an overhang. Ambrosius turned away, rubbing his eyes. Nimona looked up at him.

“You okay, boss?”

Ambrosius didn’t look at her.

“… It was just yesterday. They published the confession at noon, and he was dead before sunset.” He leaned back against the wall. “I didn’t even get to see him...”

Nimona sat next to him, pressing her furry head under his hand. Ambrosius reflexively ran his fingers through her fur, appreciating the softness. He cracked the faintest smile. So that was what having a dog was like.

Next Chapter

[helpinghanikan]

König NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He overcompensates for every touch and taste he makes. Worried that he hurt you or did something wrong during your session. Convincing himself that you need to be held close and offered water at least twice.

A warm washcloth is the next step after sex. If you’re fine with raw dogging than it’s required before letting you fall asleep.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves your face. Holding it when he kisses you, your expressions when he penetrates, and especially your lips. Liking to have his thumb over your lips when you’re just holding eachother. But absolutely loving how those lips wrap around his cock.

His favorite part of himself is his thighs. He’s overhead the comments people make about them. He knows just how thick they are and strong. It’s part of what makes him dangerous in the field. So to see your hand sliding down his thighs in appreciation is a great compliment.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

König cums a lot when he finishes. Whether it’s on your face in your pussy, it’s gonna make a mess. Something that actually likes but isn’t willing to do without your okay first.

If you are cool with raw dogging it then there’s a little date you gotta go on first; both of you would need to get tested. This isn’t an insulting thing but König comes in contact with a lot of bacteria and fluids with unknown origins at work. The last thing he wants is to give you anything. And it’s only fair that if he gets tested than you should to.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He has a tattoo of a snake running from the small of his back, over his asscheek, and down his thigh. He got it after joining the military and realizing just how common tattoos were. Pressure to conform brought him into a tattoo shop with a buddy before he was twenty. Thinking back on it he’s pretty proud that he didn’t get one on his arm or back like the others. All he could think about while getting it was what his mother would think if she found out.

 A bit of money was put into the design, too. The dark lines and red scales were still holding up years later. It’s also a reason that he works to keep his ass and thigh muscles tight.

It’s created a little part of him for you to admire. When he lays on the bed in his shorts you’ll usually find yourself next him. Running gentle fingers over the line of his tattoo, following it, and tickling him while doing so.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

While not a virgin he’s never been one for just finding someone for the night. Preferring to a have a real relationship before letting them into his way too small bed.

So his experience is little to none. Call it a pride thing but he’ll never admit it. Instead trying to hide his inexperience behind wanting you to take the lead.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He likes missionary. He gets easy access to your face and breasts. Able to move your legs up and over his shoulders, to lift your hips with both hands and watch the masterpiece he makes with your body and moans.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s only goofy at the beginning. When he’s trying to subtly get into your pants. He does this by jokingly biting at your neck or by lifting you up suddenly and kissing you fiercely.

During sex he’s taking it much more seriously. When he speak it’s either to ask if something felt good, or it’s to compliment you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’s not too attached to his pubic hair, let alone how it looked. Rather he just lets if be, sometimes trimming it down when it got in the way.

He waits for you to say something if you wanted him to do anything different.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He’s a hopeless romantic through and through. Not in the way of restaurants and expensive gifts but more in the little details: like knowing what flavor of lube you liked better or constantly complimenting your body.

Little appreciations slip out of his mouth like music when he fucks. Appreciating your breasts, becoming almost aghast at the sight of your body, and simply thanking you for being so good to him.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He masturbates whenever he’s away or if you’re not in the mood. He’s never been ashamed of his habit. It’s just something he does in private, no different from using the bathroom.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He likes that he’s bigger than you. But not in a domination way, he likes to have you be the powerful one in a relationship. To submit down to someone and feel a comfort in that you would take care of him properly.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Your apartment, more specifically your bedroom.

He likes to feel safe, to be in a comfortable environment, and not to worry about what’s going on around him. Sometimes he’ll be adventurous and take you in the kitchen or living room. But, as a rule, your shenanigans aren’t going to leave the house.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Being home, being around you, it makes him want more than just to fuck you. He wants to appreciate you in any and every way he can.

This can make it annoying for when he comes home. When you just wanted to jump his bones he’s all huggy. Asking if had dinner yet or not.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Public; the idea of being caught is a nightmare. What would be even worse is the idea of being caught in a civilian area. This wouldn’t just result in his firing; it would put you in danger too.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He likes to receive more than to give. This isn’t to say that’ll he’ll ever say no to you, or demand to get before he gives.

It’s not so much because of the feeling, but more of the view he gets. Watching your head slowly move back forth down his cock. Whatever lipstick or lip gloss you choose decorating his skin. If he’s lucky than it will leave color on his cock.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

No matter how fast he starts off he’s always going to start to slow down. Liking to press you in close, feel your soft skin, and pull you so close that you’re practically a single entity.

His kisses slow at the same pace. Replacing his kisses with words of praise and thanks in a language you may or may not understand.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not his preferred way of going at it, but sometimes the want is just too much.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Any and all risk only happens inside the safety of your bedroom. It’s the only place he’ll feel safe giving himself over to you fully. Anywhere else he’d be too worried about someone seeing you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can go twice before needing a break. Personal stamina and training gave him this gift. Seeing the results of cumming deep inside of you also has that effect on him.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Most of what would qualify as toys in your relationship is mainly lingerie. Some little dresses and nighties, stockings for König, and underwear that has mostly been bought as a gag gift.

A few months ago you and König made a little trip to you local sex shop. A dildo and strap on combo caught your eye. Comfy straps in a light color that wrap around your hips. It came with several dildos of multiple sizes for different levels of experience.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s not a teaser, he honestly wouldn’t know how.

Instead he prefers to be teased. Loving when you don’t outright state that you wanna be railed but giving hints by bending over, wearing a certain piece of clothing that draws his eyes, or simply asking for a massage/rubbing on him.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

It’s adorable how hard he tries to keep his voice down. Pressing his face into your shoulder or biting down on his own lip.

It takes some coaxing before you lets himself make noise in bed. When he does it comes out in a shout while cumming. Pressing a hand over his mouth one night when you had snuck into the barracks. Luckily no one was going to snitch on a soldier getting some.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

The best moment in sex, in his whole life, is that eye-contact after you cum. He might still be hard inside of you but if you have that glossy, cock-dumb, look on your face it’s all over for him.

It’s an award to see this. Better than any metal he ever could have gotten. Knowing that he was the one who made you cum makes him the greatest man on earth.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

About eight to nine inches and decent in girth. Honestly, your first time seeing it did make you reconsider for a second. But only a second, after that it becomes a mountain that you are determined to climb.

Just make sure you got some lube within reach at all time.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

For an inexperience man König has a surprisingly high sex drive.

Every morning is going to start with some kind of hard wood against you. If you don’t reciprocate, or simply don’t wake up, he’s not gonna force it or even ask. He just takes care of it himself in the bathroom.

Cuddling in the afternoon? Expect his hands to slide up the back of your shirt.

He’s making dinner? Well, that’s not the only thing you can eat.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He’s still awake after finishing up. Maybe it’s his training or maybe he was a deer in another life. Either way he’s up and moving around after making sure you’re all set.

That post nut clarity is real and strong. For some reason cleaning you up reminds him of whatever chores that need to be done. More than once you’ve seen him doing the dishes in the buff, as if they couldn’t wait the few seconds it takes to pull his briefs up.

[twignotstick]

Mud Dogz - A Very Muddy Christmas 🎁

Warnings (if there's anything I should add here, tell me please!): None! All festive fun!

Words: 8,658

Summary: The holidays are a time to show how much you care. But, for your first time, it's hard to make sure you do everything right.

Notes: Welcome to the Mud Dogz holiday special! This special does take place further down the timeline, but I've tried to make everything make sense even without the context. Enjoy!

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

Twas the day before Christmas, and all through the house,

The Mud Dogz felt excitement that couldn't be doused!

But the biggest of all felt underprepared,

For he didn't know how best to show that he cared…

~*•○●○•*~

At this time of year, one may expect every home to be filled with excited children and the smells of gingerbread and sugar. In the apartment of the Mud Dogz, no one knew how to make any kind of baked goods that would make such a pleasant aroma. That didn’t stop the boys themselves from enjoying the season.

Save for HG. It was Christmas Eve, and he was sitting in his room, mulling over the impossible choice of what gifts to get for his new friends. Not entirely new; they had been living together for a few months. That didn't help with his predicament, of course. This was the first time he had ever been able to celebrate Christmas. He never even knew about the holiday until he started working at the hotel, and even then, he wasn't involved in the celebrations. This was his first real Christmas, and he didn't want to get it wrong.

So far, he had absolutely no ideas. Christmas presents were supposed to be meaningful, and HG didn't know how to do that. He had been saving up money all month, but he just didn't know where to spend it. Was he supposed to spend the same amount on every gift? If he spent more on one, would that mean the rest weren't good enough?

Mickey had tried to explain the holiday to him multiple times, but it didn't fully click. Everyone was supposed to get gifts to show that they cared about the people around them. This should have been a great thing, since HG was exceedingly scared that they didn't know how grateful he was for them saving him from the life he had been leading. But in reality, that only worsened his fear, since if he got the wrong gifts, they might not want him to live with them anymore. They might go back to believing him to be a monster.

HG was snapped out of his anxious spiraling by a knock on his door. He opened the door to find Mickey sitting in his lop-sided wheelchair, with Christmas lights bundled uncomfortably in his lap and around his chair. He was wearing a sweater with an ugly cat on it that said “Meow-y Christmas”, and blankets were piled over his tail to keep him warm.

“Hey, big dude!” Mickey greeted cheerfully. “I'm doing some last minute decorating, and I can't reach the top of the cabinet where I need these to go. Feel like helping?”

Nodding instinctively, HG followed as Mickey led him into the kitchen, where he was trying to hang lights from the cabinets. HG took the strand and began hanging them, but he couldn't quite get the wire to hang on the handles right. He was handling the cord with great care, keeping his claws away from them as much as he could, but he couldn't get a good enough grip on the cord while doing so.

Mickey must have noticed, as he leaned forward to try and see what was taking HG so long. “You got it, buddy? I can get someone else to help.”

HG huffed, signing a quick ‘No.’ Another part of Christmas was being kind to others, and Mickey needed help. He was going to help. Despite his determination, after getting the cord hung on the first handle, he accidentally unhooked it while trying to get the second. His tail whipped in frustration, tapping against the side of the kitchen counter.

Unbeknownst to HG, Danny walked into the kitchen and started watching him in pity. He silently asked Mickey if he should help, only to earn a hesitant shake of the head. He had a sweater on as well, as Mickey had managed to get everyone except for HG in one. His was purple and white, with snowflakes across it.

HG turned around after a few more attempts, startling and knocking his tail against the counter, nearly dropping the lights in his hands. Danny waited for a second so HG could calm down before speaking.

“Do you want some help with that?” He asked, grabbing the end of the cord. “I understand it might be difficult with your… hand situation.”

Pursing his lips, HG relented and handed the lights to Danny. The rat was able to hang them up quickly, with little struggle. As the lights were hung, Mickey’s seating situation got much more comfortable, and he became less squished in his chair.

“Thanks, Dan!” Mickey said with a grin.

“You know,” Danny said to HG, “you don't have to worry about ripping them. They don't all work anyway, I'm assuming.” He turned to Mickey. “Where'd you find these ones anyway?”

“In the dumpster a couple blocks down! And no, you can't rip them!” He said the latter part in a whiny tone. “I'm gonna fix them!”

“Really? That's what you said last year.”

“Well… I'm really gonna do it this time.”

“Whatever you say, Mick. Look, HG,” he turned again, “you don't have to worry about it.”

‘But,’ HG signed, his tail slowly sweeping back and forth, ‘Christmas? Nice?’

“Christmas?” Danny paused, trying to understand what HG meant. “Oh, no, just because you weren't able to help doesn't mean you weren't being nice. The fact that you tried at all means that you were being nice. Are you worried about Christmas?”

HG wrung his hands. ‘Maybe.’

“Oh, I know that one!” Mickey said, rolling a little closer. “Why would anybody ever be worried about Christmas? It's supposed to be fun, and a time to show you care. It shouldn't be stressful!”

HG shrunk into himself. ‘Presents,’ he signed hesitantly.

“Oh, I'm sure whatever presents you have are lovely, HG,” Danny assured.

‘No,’ HG signed frustratedly, ‘no presents. Have no presents.’

“You're going to have presents, HG, we aren't that mean-”

‘No, I have no presents.’

Danny looked puzzled, but Mickey lit up in understanding. “You don't have any presents for us yet, do you?”

HG nodded. Danny looked at Mickey, almost offended. “You know sign less than I do?!”

“I know people, dude,” Mickey said with a grin. “We can do some last minute shopping, right?”

“I guess,” Danny said. “But we should ask Leonard if he wants to join, too. Knowing him, he probably doesn't have all of his presents yet, either.”

“I’ll get him!” Mickey’s chest puffed with gusto, and he rolled as fast as he could into Leonard’s room with his lop-sided wheels. Moments later, both he and Leonard emerged from the room, with Leonard already pulling on his torn winter coat. His sweater was gray and red, and had a spaceship on the front- Mickey had picked it out for him because of his favorite show, The Aluri. In all honesty, it was the favorite show of the whole household, and HG had even taken a strong liking to the main character, Red Fox.

“So, we’re getting presents?” Leonard asked as he grabbed Mickey’s jacket and tossed in the eel's face. “Very exciting, though I don’t have any presents to get, no way.”

Danny chuckled as he reached into the pockets of various coats hanging near the door, searching for something. “Yeah, sure- hey, have any of you seen my good gloves? I haven’t been able to find them in weeks.”

“Nnnope!” Leonard chirped, grabbing the one coat that they had scavenged that was just big enough for HG and helping him put it on.

Danny sighed, tossing his hands up and settling for wearing sub-par gloves. “Guess I can just get a new pair while we’re out.”

“Hey, they’re probably around here somewhere.” Mickey said, uncomfortably shuffling the layers of blankets in his lap to have the best insulation and pulling a beanie onto his head. “There’s no need to go wasting your Christmas money.”

“Fine, I guess,” Danny conceded. “I’ll get new ones after Christmas, when the sales are on.”

“Great! Now that that's settled…” Leonard finished helping HG as he finally tugged the second sleeve of his coat on and fastened his trapper hat on his head. “Ikou, my friends! To frosty fun!”

“Booyah!” Mickey cheered, leading the group out the apartment door.

~*•○●○•*~

So off to the market, the rascals did fly,

In search of what goodies were out there to buy.

The streets of the city brought fun new intrigues,

As townspeople cheerfully filled them in leagues.

~*•○●○•*~

The streets of the Hidden City were bustling with last minute shoppers, ready to make use of sales. Mystic snowfall apparated from the ceiling of the vast cavern, covering the streets and letting children try to catch the snowflakes on their tongues. Yokai kept shoveling their storefronts to welcome prospective shoppers in. A quiet jingle of holiday music rang through the air, from no specific point of origin in particular.

Mickey had to stop propelling himself in favor of Leonard pushing his chair, since getting through the snow and across the paved streets was difficult. Despite the setback, Mickey kept a chipper mood and pointed out every bright decoration or detail to be sure HG saw.

“And all the shops will have music playing, and it's always so nice to get inside and feel the warmth of the heaters-”

“Mickey, you might be overwhelming him.” Danny patted Mickey's shoulder gently, looking at HG to make sure he was doing okay. HG had already been stared at by plenty of people in the few minutes it took to walk into town, and Danny had to swipe away a couple phones to keep people from taking pictures.

“Oh, right, sorry!” Mickey apologized, reaching out to grab HG's hand with his fin. “You're gonna love it, that's all I'm tryna say.”

HG was infinitely grateful for Danny’s observation. It was all very exciting, but a lot. All at once. The beauty of the snow alone was overwhelming, let alone the twinkling lights and laughter. And the pretty storefronts. And the crowds of people. And the bells. And-

“Away we go!” Leonard shouted, grabbing onto Mickey’s wheelchair handles and rushing him away.

HG blinked, watching the pair vanish through the clogged street. He nervously turned to Danny, who looked almost as stunned as he was.

“Well,” Danny said, clasping his hands together, “Guess it's just you and me, big guy. Ready to do some shopping?”

‘Yes,’ HG signed. ‘For what?’

Danny started to stroll down the street, and HG slowly followed. “Well, for gifts! If you have ideas, we can look there first. Don't tell the guys, but I still need to get something for Mickey too. That's further down the street, though, so you might find something before we get there.”

HG's tail swished in the snow behind him as he walked, taking careful steps with the single pair of shoes they had been able to find in his size. ‘What presents? What to get?’

“Oh! Well…” Danny contemplated. “There's no real wrong gift. It’s just supposed to make your giftee feel… loved. As long as it's something that they will find some joy in, it'll work. And not something that they can't use. Like, don't get Mickey shoes, or Leonard weak deodorant.”

HG huffed, the closest thing he could muster to laughter. As the pair walked across the powder dusted streets, he leaned to look into every brightly lit storefront and gawk and the beautiful displays. His tail's slow sweeping gradually sped up as he became more interested and excited.

“I guess you can put some parameters in place. Rules.” Danny spun on his heel to start walking backwards, causing HG's attention to whip over to him. “Rule one: pay attention to the person's interests and hobbies, and get something related to that. Think about TV shows they like, or movies, or books, or whatever. It's a pretty safe bet for a gift. Oh, maybe like this-”

Danny stopped at the sight of a shop next to him; a video game shop. The store also advertised selling merchandise for various nerdy interests, from gundams to magical girls.

“The perfect place to browse for our resident dork,” Danny said, walking up to the store and going inside. HG quickly followed. “Well, the biggest dork.”

HG started looking at the options across the racks and shelves, admiring the shiny pins and intricate patches for franchises he had never heard of. He stayed as far away from the expensive gaming consoles against the walls as he could, for fear that he would knock something over with his tail by accident. Danny browsed next to him, pointing out certain characters he recognized.

After searching for a while, HG found a rack that had some merchandise for The Aluri. There were pins, patches, t-shirts, and hats, all representing the various characters in the main cast, and even a few of the more obscure side characters, like Jupiter Jim. However, the item that caught HG’s eye was a bandana, with a pattern portraying chibi-fied characters alongside the spaceship itself. He took the bandana off the hook as delicately as possible, tapping Danny’s shoulder to get his attention and show him.

“Oo, great find!” Danny took the bandana, feeling the fabric to check its quality. “This’ll be perfect for Len. Great job, HG!”

The tip of HG’s tail wagged contentedly as he listened to the praise. For his first ever Christmas present, he never would have expected to find such a good pick. Maybe this intimidating challenge wouldn’t be so challenging after all?

As they walked up to the checkout, Danny rambled a little more about the ways of gift-giving. “This is a really good present, actually,” he said, “since Leonard just can’t help hiding his receding hairline. It’s multipurpose, it shows how obsessed he is with TV, and he’s likely to wear it!”

After giving a quick “thank you” to the cashier, the boys resituated their layers and stepped back out into the cold.

~*•○●○•*~

With their nice newfound ‘kerchief, and newfound belief,

HG carried on feeling greatly relieved.

They passed by the shops with their discounted prices,

As the kaiju learned more of gift-giving devices.

~*•○●○•*~

As the pair carried along the street, HG took closer note of the people walking alongside them. He saw happy couples holding gloved hands. He saw children tossing snowballs at each other and squealing. He saw parents struggling to keep their kids wrangled together. One such parent, a mother who resembled an alpaca, was grabbing her kid’s arm as he tried to run out of the doorway of a shop.

“Arin, you need to put that back,” she reprimanded, holding a hooved hand out for a small toy the boy had in his hands. “Stealing will put you on the naughty list. You want Santa to bring you gifts, don’t you?”

The boy gasped, seemingly filled with sudden guilt at the possibility his mother had proposed. “Yes, I’ll be good! I’ll put it back!”

The boy and his mother both walked back into the store, respectfully returning the toy back to where it belonged. HG couldn’t help but watch them in confusion and wonder. He tapped Danny’s shoulder, getting the rat’s attention so he could sign.

‘Bad list?’ He signed hesitantly, not knowing if it would make sense. ‘S-A-N-T-A?’

“Uh- oh, you don’t know about Santa, do you?” When HG shook his head, Danny nodded slightly. “Well, Santa Claus is a figure related to Christmas. In human culture, he is often depicted as a large, white bearded man wearing red. However, in the yokai world, (AKA the real depiction,) Santa is an eldritch force that is able to observe every living yokai at all times for the whole year. At the end of the year, Santa duplicates its presence to enter into every home and give gifts to those who have done good deeds throughout the year.” Danny sighed heavily. “We won’t have any gifts from Santa, unfortunately. I learned as soon as I ran away that leading a life of crime disqualifies you from being on the nice list.”

HG listened attentively, nodding along. ‘I’m bad. I get presents?’

“Of course you do! Santa’s judgment is much too harsh, in my opinion. Mickey didn’t get any presents during our first Christmas together, and he was hardly an accessory to crime!” Seeing that HG was still not understanding, Danny explained, “We’re allowed to get presents for each other, no matter what Santa decides. What matters is that we care about each other, and we show it.”

HG mulled over this new information. He had never received presents from this “Santa”. That must mean he never had a year where he was good. It made sense in the later years, but there were years where he tried, when he was younger. Much younger. If this figure was so important in holiday culture that parents would keep their children in line with the threat of its decision, then surely its opinion must be important.

Danny must have noticed his spaced out expression. “I think you’re a good person, HG. You’ve been really nice to all of us ever since we met. Well, for the most part, and when you weren’t it was deserved. I’d be willing to bet that if you hadn’t been so nice to help us with our heists, you would have been on the nice list.”

There was no way that was right, HG thought, knowing what he had done before they met. He didn’t want to argue with Danny, though, so he signed a small ‘Thank you.’

“Alright, now gift-giving rule two: pay attention to the things that person actually needs, even if they don’t realize it.” Danny gestured in the air as he continued to explain. “Christmas gifts are all the better when they have a practical use, especially in our situation. Sometimes people struggle to come up with ideas for what they want, even when they have so many things that they need.��

As HG nodded along, Danny approached the storefront he had come out to visit. A toy shop, with brightly colored shelves and things for all ages. There were some parents with their children walking around inside, browsing the various shelves. Danny led the way inside, glancing at the shelves as he went through. Just before he headed to where he was aiming for, his attention was grabbed by a bookshelf.

“They have The Night Before Christmas?” Danny gasped, grabbing a children’s book from the shelf. “This is classic surface Christmas literature! And with beautiful examples of human poetry structure and artwork-” Danny shook the book in his hands just a bit, before sighing and putting it back. “Not a rule, but a piece of advice: resist buying for yourself while gift-giving. Spending your money on yourself puts the important gifts at risk.”

Watching Danny’s excellent show of personal restraint, HG got an idea.

Danny approached a corner that was dedicated to tabletop games. There were actually many that HG recognized, much to his own surprise, all thanks to playing such games with Mickey. The rat kneeled down, looking across the displays for one thing in particular.

“Here they are.” Danny picked up a velvet bag, rustling with items inside. “Replacement stones for Mickey’s Mancala. Now which color combo to pick…”

As Danny browsed, HG walked back over to the bookshelf. He grabbed The Night Before Christmas, happy to find that it was the last copy they had left. Sending one more glance to make sure Danny wasn’t looking, he carried it up to the register.

“This all you have, si-”

HG frantically waved at the feline cashier, holding a finger up to his mouth to tell him to keep quiet. When the cashier looked concerned, he pointed silently to Danny, then back at the book.

“Ah, I see ya.” The cashier silently took HG’s money, forwent putting the book in a bag to make the deal even more quiet, and put the receipt in the cover of it. “Oh, to make sure you don’t get found out-” He ducked under his counter, coming back up with another copy of the book. “I needed to put this return back up there, anyway. Could you do it for me?”

HG smiled as widely as his stiff face could and happily obliged. He stuffed his purchase under his coat and into a pocket on the inside, happy for once about his own size because the pocket was big enough to hold the book securely. Fortunately, he was able to do all of this just before Danny made his decision on Mancala pieces and walked up to the cashier himself to make a purchase of his own.

Happy with his choice, Danny walked up to HG, none the wiser that one extra gift had also been purchased. “Got him some nice blue ones, which he can even mix with his incomplete set. I’m sure he will, just for the sake of combining the colors.” Shaking the plastic bag with the bag of stones inside, Danny happily left the store, taking a quick last glance at the book still on the shelf.

HG huffed, pleased that Danny couldn’t tell the difference.

~*•○●○•*~

Two gifts out of three, the kaiju did acquire,

Fully sure they were things that his friends would desire.

Though the final gift would prove HG’s greatest test,

Since, for his closest friend, this one must be the best.

~*•○●○•*~

“So, that still leaves two gifts for you to get, right? Any ideas?”

‘No, no,’ HG signed carefully. ‘One. For Mickey.’

“Oh, really?” Danny said, furrowing his brow for only a moment. “Got it. You shouldn’t feel pressured to get a gift for everyone-”

‘No. I have a gift,’ HG interrupted.

“Oh! Well, good for you!” Danny commended, patting HG’s shoulder firmly. “That reminds me of another thing; don’t be afraid to give things you’ve had for a while if they’ll suit nicely.”

After humming quietly in response, HG went back to looking at shops. Despite the wide array of options, nothing was catching his eye. For Mickey, HG wanted to make sure his gift was perfect. While all of the Mud Dogz had shown him plenty of kindness (save for the beginning with Leonard), Mickey was the one who truly wanted to befriend him. He got HG to play board games with him, indulged in HG’s interest in cooking, and tried to talk to him whenever he could, even if he was rusty on sign language. He had even tried to communicate before HG had figured out that sign was an option for him. It was such unexpected nice behavior that HG had begun looking forward to every simple conversation they would have at breakfast.

A scream broke HG out of his daydreaming. He turned to look at the opposite side of the street and watched as a yokai with a hood covering their head ran away from a stall selling sewn goods, carrying a metal money box in their hands. The shopkeeper- a witch with long, graying blonde hair- was calling after them, saying, “Thief! Burglar!”

“Ooh, yeesh,” Danny hissed, watching the criminal run away. “Real rude move.”

Something in HG’s mind flipped, and, without much thinking, he turned to follow the thief.

“Uh- HG?!”

His mystics kicked in and he grew in size, making sure not to get too big so as not to hurt anyone around him. His coat and shoes kept him from doing so, anyway. As he ran down the streets, various people stopped and watched him. Some cheered him on; a sound he had never really thought would be intended for him. The culprit heard the booming footsteps approaching behind them and turned around, slipping and falling backwards into the snow. The money box tumbled out of their hands as they looked up at the giant figure behind them.

“Take it!” They pleaded. “Take the money, man! Just let me go!”

HG growled lowly at them, letting a quiet roar escape as he grabbed the box in his palm. The thief scrambled away as he turned around, shrinking back to normal size and going back to the stall where the box belonged. He checked over his clothes, finding that he had ripped the sleeve of his new coat.

Danny was already speaking with the proprietor of the stall, explaining that despite HG’s growling methods, he was trying to do good. As he got closer, HG began to examine the sewn together items that were for sale, trying to figure out what they were for. Danny and the owner watched HG approach, and as soon as HG was close enough, the witch stepped around the stall and bowed to him as a show of her gratitude.

“Thank you so much, sir.” She stood back up, happily taking the money box back from HG’s hands. “You have no idea how much this helps me and my daughter. Who would have known my busiest day would be right before Christmas?”

“Well, we did come out shopping today, so we could have guessed!” Danny gleefully responded, patting HG’s forearm.

“Oh, really?” The shopkeeper brightened. “Well, I must offer a reward of some kind. I can pay you a hundred, at least. Or, if you want some free merchandise?” She gestured to the sewn goods. “They’re supposed to be for older people, such as myself, if you had anyone like that you needed to get gifts for.”

HG signed, and Danny interpreted for him. “What are they for?”

“They’re pockets you can fit onto your chair’s armrest!” As she explained with a grin, she looked right at HG, despite him being unable to fully respond. “My daughter sews them herself. They can be used to hold anything, really. Snacks at the table, power cords for your electronic devices, mystic devices. My daughter started making them when I picked up knitting again. Having all that yarn takes up a lot of table space, so she made one for me, and we decided to make it a business. She makes them in her free time all year so we can sell them when it gets colder. When people are inside more, you know.”

“...do they work with wheelchairs?”

“Oh! Well, I guess that'd depend on the type of wheelchair you have. The straps to secure it onto the chair have to go around the armrest. But as long as the armrests are detached, sure!” The owner looked to HG with a motherly smile. “Do you have a friend that might like one?”

Seeing HG hesitate with the signs he didn't know, Danny elected to explain. “We have a roommate that's an ambulatory wheelchair user.” He furrowed his eyebrows in question at HG. “You want to get this for Mickey?”

‘Yes.’ HG's tail swayed nervously. ‘Wheelchair doesn't have space. Mickey can't sit comfortably. This will help him carry things.’

Danny's eyes widened and he grew an excited grin. “You're so right! See, you're a natural gift-giver!”

HG's tail swayed slightly faster. He turned back to the store owner. ‘How much?’

“Oh, no HG- she said it was free.”

‘No.’ HG shook his head firmly, staring at the owner. ‘How much?’

“I'm sorry, what is he saying?”

Danny sighed exasperatedly. “He's asking how much they cost.”

“Uh, well, if you're curious, it depends on which kind. I have cheaper ones for forty or forty-five, with less pockets. The expensive ones are usually seventy-five, but I have them marked down to sixty since I'm almost done for the day and won't be selling for a while after the holidays. They've got more pockets, zippers, and cushions to add onto the armrests. But, again, you don't need to pay. You already saved me hundreds in profits.”

HG nodded as she spoke. “We'll look at your fancier ones,” Danny interpreted.

The woman brought their attention to the right side of her stall, where the more expensive options were folded nicely. There were plain color options, but what drew HG's attention was the floral ones. One design had orange and red flowers, with beautiful curling petals and emerald leaves with a bluish tinge to them. He hesitated to touch it, not wanting to rip anything, but Danny seemed to notice and picked the piece up to investigate the various pockets and zippers.

“Very well made,” Danny commended. “Your daughter is very talented.”

“Oh, yes,” the witch chuckled.

Content with what he could see, HG reached into his coat pocket and took his money bag out. He poured out its contents, then signed ‘Thank you,’ and grabbed a second piece to go with the first that Danny already had.

“What?” The woman asked, baffled. “You- no, sir, I can’t accept your money.”

‘Thank you,’ HG signed again, more firmly.

“Oh.” The shopkeeper took the money delicately, smiling softly. She handed over a bag for the boys to put their new purchases in, as well as a business card. “Thank you so much, sir. You’ve done so much for me and my daughter. I hope we can meet again so I can repay you. And that your friend likes their gift!”

HG nodded. Danny took both pockets and put them in the bag, taking note of the information on the card for the future. “I know he’s gonna love it. HG’s just a master at picking gifts. Thank you so much, ma’am.”

“It’s no problem. Thank you.”

The boys waved goodbye, content with their shopping for the day. Danny stuck the two smaller bags from the other shops into the larger one, then turned to HG. “It’s real lucky you had 120 left, huh?” He asked, walking closely beside HG toward where he had messaged Leonard to meet.

‘150.’ HG signed.

“...what?”

‘150. I had 150.’

“Hold on.” Danny stepped in front of HG, stopping him in his tracks. “So not only did you save that woman’s whole earnings for the day. But you also demanded to pay when she offered free merchandise, and, when she told you it was being sold at a discount, you paid full price?!”

‘...yes.’

Danny blinked. “How were you ever worried about being on the nice list?”

The kaiju’s brow furrowed. ‘What?’

“You just did so many good things. That earned you some serious good karma! If anyone in our place is going to get gifts from Santa, it’ll be you!”

HG didn’t quite understand. Had Danny forgotten all the terrible things he had done? Even just the ones he had done after meeting? He had experienced a whole year of doing terrible deeds. There was no way he could be considered good by anyone. Right?

“Let’s get home so we can get these gifts wrapped up, shall we?”

Timidly nodding, HG’s tail continued to wag as they both went to find their other friends.

~*•○●○•*~

The boys returned home, with presents aplenty,

And hurried to get the festivities ready.

Before the night fell, HG went to his buddy,

Since his technique of wrapping was still a bit muddy.

~*•○●○•*~

“What do you need, big dude?”

HG stood awkwardly in Mickey’s doorway, holding Danny’s present and a roll of wrapping paper. He awkwardly stuffed the roll under his arm to sign, ‘Need help. Can’t wrap.’

Mickey asked for HG to repeat the signs slower, then comprehended. “Oh!” Mickey excitedly pulled HG inside his room. “Of course!” He looked at the book in HG’s hand and gently took it, gasping softly. “Oo, this is so cool! Danny is gonna love this. Uh, this is for Danny, right?”

HG nodded. ‘He wanted it, but didn’t get it.’

“Really? Great pick!” Mickey flopped to the floor, gesturing for HG to roll out the paper. “I’m sure all your gifts are as awesome as this.”

‘Hopefully.’

“I know they are.” Mickey started wrapping the book, taking care to not get any tape on the book itself. “Because you're one of the coolest, nicest people I've ever met. And it doesn't matter what you got. We’re gonna love them.”

Sitting down on the floor next to Mickey, HG mindlessly gnawed on the end of his tail. ‘But what if the presents are bad? Not good for you?’

“It doesn't matter what you got me, GiGi. I'm just happy you got me anything.”

HG took a pause. ‘But… but if you don't like it? You can't use it?’

“It doesn't matter to me!” Mickey finished wrapping the book up, finding a marker and handing it to HG to write Danny's name on the gift. “I gave Leonard and Danny mismatched socks that didn't fit for three years, and they still loved those. At the time I thought they were really great gifts, but still. Besides,” Mickey scooted across the floor to lean against HG's side, “you already gave me the greatest gift ever this year.”

HG's tail slowly fell to the ground, then subconsciously wrapped around Mickey, holding him close. ‘I gave you nothing?’

Taking a second to recognize the signs that HG had just done, Mickey's smile grew wider. “You gave me you. I mean, technically, we saved you, but you stayed. So now we have a new person in the apartment, and you can cook way better than any of us, and you can actually reach the top shelves, and most importantly-”

Mickey moved to sit right in front of HG, holding one of his hands in both fins.

“You gave me a new best friend. And another big brother, even though the others won't admit that they’re my brothers too.”

As the tip of his tail softly patted against the floor, HG finished writing Danny's name on his gift and gave Mickey a quick hug. ‘Thank you for saving me,’ he signed.

“Ahh, it was no biggie.” Mickey chuckled, mimicking pulling HG to his feet despite not actually being able to. HG stood anyway. “Now we've got to get to bed, or Santa can't come! Though, I don't know if he will, especially since we robbed a police station this year… Well, there's always a chance!”

HG snorted, but went to bed as he was told after putting his present under the dilapidated top-of-a-tree-attached-to-a-base. Thoughts of the next morning weighed heavily on his mind, but he forced himself to sleep.

Just in case.

~*•○●○•*~

The night passed by calmly, as quaint as could be,

With twelve perfect gifts laid around the small tree.

Across the city, an ominous creature appeared

To give presents to those who had been good that year.

~*•○●○•*~

“Merry Christmas!!!”

Leonard knocked on every bedroom door, opening them slightly as another incentive to get out of bed. HG grumbled and rubbed his eyes, contemplating staying in bed out of principle, but then he remembered.

It was Christmas.

HG climbed out of his comparatively small full size bed, his tail wagging excitedly. He walked out, nearly bumping into Mickey's chair as he flew down the hallway. When he noticed who he had passed, Mickey reversed and grabbed HG's hand to drag him along. “Come on, dude! It's time for presents!”

As Danny trudged out behind them, HG and Mickey hurried along into the living room. Anxiously, HG waited to see what presents would be there, and he saw Leonard already looking through.

The ogre ducked around the sort-of-tree, then sighed. “No dice. Santa proves to be a narc once again.”

HG's shoulders lowered, and he wilted. Danny patted his shoulder as he walked up from behind. “I told you its judgement was harsh. You shouldn't feel bad.”

“Who cares?! It's present time!” Mickey hopped off of his wheelchair and passionately smacked the large bean bag next to him for HG. Once HG had plopped down in the seat, Mickey went over to the tree and started divvying up the presents to their respective giftees. HG was shocked and pleased to find that he had three; one from each of his friends.

“Nose goes!” After dropping into his own seat, Mickey smacked a fin over his nose and reached over and grabbed HG's hand for him to do the same to his own.

Leonard and Danny took their places on the sofa next to each other and met each other's eyes, shrugging in unison. “I'll go,” Leonard said.

He reached down next to him and grabbed his first present, a small flat box. “Mickey's first,” he said, peeling back the wrapping paper and opening the box within. He took out a small, ring bound yellow sketchbook, with various stickers laid in the box as well.

“I know you kept stealing Danny's notebooks to doodle in, so I thought you'd like your own sketchbook! And I looked through the stickers I had to find some you’d like, too.”

“This is very nice, Mickey! Thank you.” Leonard put the gifts back in the box and to the side on the floor, as HG noted. He wanted to make sure that, when his turn came, he did everything right.

Leonard glanced up, catching HG’s nervous stare. “How about yours next, big guy?” He reached down and grabbed the gift from HG. HG’s tail started swishing beside him rapidly in anticipation as Leonard pulled the tissue paper out of the bag and looked inside.

“Oo! This is niiice!” Leonard showed the bandana off, making sure Mickey and Danny could see the pattern. In the process, he got a better feel of the fabric, silently gawking at it. He took the cardboard packaging off and pulled off the red and green bandana he was wearing, replacing it with his new gift. “How do I look?”

Mickey chuckled. “Like a dork. A cool dork!”

“A title I will wear with pride,” Leonard beamed. “Thank you, HG.” 

HG’s tail wagged even faster as he felt his expression tighten in an attempt to express his happiness. His gift had been a success! He had made a good choice! And he even put it on as soon as he could!

“On to the rat man,” Leonard said as he leaned down once more, narrowly dodging a swat to the head from Danny’s tail. He picked up the small box and examined it judgmentally. “Cute wrapping, though your folding job is a little subpar…”

“Oh, just open it already, string bean.”

“Jeez, I’m just saying,” Leonard said sarcastically. He unwrapped the box and opened it, pulling out a brown, wooden switchblade with gold engraving. He flicked out the blade to show a silver comb, polished and shining. “Oh, thank you, Danny. I can never have enough of these.”

“Flip out the other side, Leonard,” Danny said knowingly.

“Other-”  Leonard spun the handle around, flicking out the other side to see a real, polished, sharp knife blade. Leonard gasped. “This is so cool! How did you get this thing?!”

“Some persuasion, some threats, a really nice discount, you know…” Danny leaned away as if it was nothing, but the happy swaying of his tail showed otherwise.

“You criminal.” Leonard leaned into Danny’s face, shoving a finger at his nose. “Open your presents before they get confiscated.”

Danny rolled his eyes, but reached down to grab a gift anyway. “I’ll start with HG’s, since I’ve been dying to know what it is.” Mickey leaned over and patted against HG’s arm excitedly as Danny ripped the paper. Once the cover of the book was uncovered, his eyes widened and he quickened his unwrapping. “You- how did you- when did you get this?!”

‘With you,’ HG signed smugly. ‘You didn’t see.’

“See, I told you that you were too good at this!” Danny opened the book and began examining the pages, closer than he had at the shop.

“Can you read it to us, Danny?” Mickey asked sweetly.

“It’s called The Night Before Christmas, Mickey. It’s the morning of Christmas.”

“We can make an exception,” Leonard said, leaning back on the couch, “Can’t we?”

Danny rolled his eyes, but smiled. “I guess. But only tonight! Not right now. We’ve got more presents to open. Thank you, HG.”

As Mickey fistpumped, HG sighed and relaxed in his seat. Another good reception. Two of three.

Danny reached down again, grabbing the bag from Mickey. He reached in and took out a dark, burgundy bow tie. He looked at it with curiosity, then up at Mickey.

“It matches the new hat you got!” Mickey explained.

“You’re right!” Danny said, recalling a new burgundy fedora he had recently found. “Now I won’t look like a fashion tragedy when I try to wear it. Thanks, Mick.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” Mickey said as he giggled.

Danny reached down and opened his final box, at which he got an even more confused expression. “Leonard,” he whispered aggressively, “why are my gloves in here?”

“Because I needed them,” Leonard said, sickly sweet. “There’s more, look under!”

Danny scowled, but with a little more convincing from Leonard, he looked deeper in the box. “More gloves?!”

“I made them, based on your old ones. Since they were the only ones that fit your freaky hands-”

“HEY-”

“I used them as a pattern to make new ones with nicer fabric, and reinforced fingertips so your claws won’t rip through. Now you don’t have to use crappy, ripped up ones!”

Danny groaned in defeat. “Alright, thank you Leonard. I’m sure these nice new gloves will make up for you stealing my old ones.”

“You’re very welcome, rat man,” Leonard said smugly. He got a tail to the face in return.

“Okay, my turn now!” Mickey squealed. “You get to go last HG, since it’s your first time.” He picked up his first gift, a sloppily wrapped box. Opening it, he grinned and picked up a screwdriver and wrench from within. “New tools! Thank you, Len!” He put the tools in his hands down and picked up another from the box, his eyes getting teary for no apparent reason. “And a new hand drill, too?”

“That’s right, little man,” Leonard said with a nervous grin. “Don’t… cry about it or anything. You haven’t even gotten into your other gifts.”

Mickey thanked Leonard again, miming hugging him since he didn’t want to stand up, then grabbed the second gift, from Danny. He examined the velvet bag suspiciously, shaking it around, then opened it up and squealed. “New Mancala stuff! Is this a whole set?”

“Sure is,” Danny answered proudly. “I bought them new.”

“Oo, this is gonna be so good! I’ll get to show you what a real game plays like, HG.”

“And walk all over us for longer?” Leonard asked, smugly.

“I’ll go easy on you guys, I promise,” Mickey said, though everyone knew he didn’t mean it. “So that’s just yours left, HG. I can’t wait!” The eel leaned down and grabbed the last gift, the biggest out of all of the ones so far. The paper was ripped in places, as HG had insisted he had to wrap it himself, but Mickey couldn’t care less. The excitement in his face was unmatched as he opened the package, taking out its contents with care.

HG hesitated to do anything as Mickey looked at the hardware and stitching on his gifts. When he said nothing, HG signed slowly, ‘For your chair. So you can carry things.’

“Wait, they’re for my chair?” HG nodded. Mickey frantically hopped out of his seat so he could get into his wheelchair, then strapped the new pockets onto his armrests. To HG’s relief, they fit perfectly, not obstructing his wheels at all. Mickey started investigating all the pockets and zippers, gushing about what he could use it for. “My tools can fit in here, and it’ll be so much easier to bring my games around the apartment, and I can stuff snacks in here- AH! This is so cool!!!” He rolled over to HG, then hopped out of his chair to give him a tight hug. “Thank you so much!”

HG’s tail somehow began wagging even faster, moving around the stuffing in his bean bag musically. He hugged Mickey just as tightly, more proud than he could have ever imagined. He did it! He got good presents! He was nice! They still liked him! And Mickey liked his gift the most!

“Just wait until you hear the story about how we got those,” Danny said.

“That can wait, it’s time for HG to open his presents!” Mickey plopped back into his wheelchair, still staying beside HG.

Having nearly forgotten that he had received any, HG picked up his first gift, the one from Leonard, carefully. Fortunately, it was in a bag, so he was less worried about damaging its contents. Placing the tissue paper to the side, HG found a large rubber ring sitting inside.

“It’s something you can chew on,” Leonard explained, “so you don’t have to chew on your tail. It’s made for yokai, too, not pets, so it’ll last for a long time. And I bought it, so you know it’s clean.”

HG timidly gnawed on the ring, pleasantly surprised when he couldn’t rip it with his fangs, but it still gave a little. ‘Thank you. I like it,’ he signed.

“Glad you do, big man.”

HG grabbed the second gift, which he could tell was from Danny from the amazing wrapping job. Symmetrical tape, perfect creases, everything. He clawed at the paper carefully, trying to not touch what was inside at all. He discovered it was a book, just like he had gotten for Danny. Unlike Danny’s, this was a cookbook, with pastries and cookies across the cover. Mickey leaned over to see.

“I noticed you didn’t have any recipes for baking,” Danny said. “I thought you might enjoy some. There’s even a few in there for festive sweets, like cookies.”

“Cookies?!” Mickey clapped his fins together. “Can we make some? Oh, we might not have the ingredients… We can check what we have when we eat breakfast. If you want to, of course..?”

HG snorted. ‘Yes. Thank you, Danny, I like it.’

“You’re very welcome, HG.”

Perhaps the most carefully, HG picked up the last gift. It was the biggest box of all the ones that anyone had, though lighter than expected. Mickey’s tail bounced in his seat, anticipating HG’s reaction. Not wanting to leave his friend waiting, HG unwrapped the gift swiftly.

Within was a large plushie, which resembled some sort of green reptile. It had a cute face, with plush teeth and an opened mouth, along with large, chunky limbs and clawed toes. There were green spikes lining its spine, reminding HG of his own red spines. HG scooped the plushie out of the box under its stomach, seeing how its long tail flopped around and limbs fell to its sides.

“He looks like you!” Mickey said gleefully. “He’s got your teeth, and your cuddly-ness, and all the important stuff, y’know?”

With Mickey’s perspective, HG looked at the plushie more closely. But where was the scary grimace? The constant fear? The grimace? What about this precious gift could possibly remind Mickey of him?

Where was the monster?

The tears gathered in the corners of his eyes without his knowledge.

Mickey frowned, nervously standing up and sitting in the bean bag next to HG. “Do you like it? I was calling him Leatherhead, but you can change the name if you want. A-and if you don’t like it, I can just go put it back in the bin I got it from and get you something else!”

HG hugged Mickey closely against his chest, squeezing his eyes shut and whimpering softly. He put his face as deeply as he could into his friend’s shoulder, happy to feel Mickey’s arms wrapping around his back as much as they could. He kept the plush held tightly in his hand; loose enough to make sure he didn’t hurt it. He didn’t want to hurt this. To hurt him. He had a name.

“I love you too, GiGi.” Mickey whispered, leaning his head against HG’s. “I’m really glad you like him.”

HG forced himself to lean back enough so Mickey could see him sign shakily with one hand. ‘Love him. I love him. Thank you. Thank you so much.’

Mickey grabbed HG’s hand, holding it tight to his chest. “I’m so glad you do. I was really worried about it.”

All the stress and confusion in HG’s head melted away. The whole process of getting gifts, the worry about if things would turn out right, the wish to convey his gratitude, it was as if none of it ever existed. Mickey, the one who had been confident enough to give socks that didn’t fit as a gift and knew he would get kindness in return, had been worried about this gift. This gift, the one that told HG that he wasn’t a terrifying beast to be scared of. The one that told him he was kind. The one that told him he was gentle and soft.

It told him he was loved. All of the gifts did.

HG hugged Mickey to his chest for just a little longer. Mickey pulled back and hopped over to his wheelchair, happily adjusting his new pockets, and looked back to HG with a goofy grin. “Mind if I take your new cookbook for a minute? I wanna start looking in the kitchen to figure out what we can make.”

HG nodded, and Mickey swept up the book and rolled away. Danny nodded to HG approvingly, then stood up to follow. Leonard watched them go, then stood and walked over to HG, crouching down next to him.

“Take as long as you need here, big guy,” Leonard consoled. “They can wait.”

HG thanked him, sitting up a little straighter. ‘Your gift was nice, too. I didn’t mean to cry.’

“Ah, it's fine. I’ve cried over presents before too, I get it.” Leonard stood, putting his hands on his hips. “You did really good with all those gifts. I know all of this is new, so don’t be afraid to dip out if all the festive-happy-Christmas-time is too much. Mickey likes to go all the way.”

Standing and wiping the remaining tears from his face, HG signed, ‘I will. Thank you. All of it is nice.’

“That’s great to hear! We’re excited to include you if you’ll let us.”

HG’s chest swelled with a tingly feeling. This powerful feeling, one of belonging, was so new, and so foreign, but he was so happy to have it. It felt so right.

“HG!” Mickey shouted from the kitchen. “WE CAN MAKE SUGAR COOKIES!!!”

HG and Leonard both looked toward the kitchen, then back at each other. “Ready for the holiday chaos?”

As his tail wagged behind him, HG nodded, more confident than he had ever been before.

~*•○●○•*~

That Christmas, the Mud Dogz kept most things the same,

With one more companion to play in their games.

They baked up their cookies, and shared all their presents,

Though they knew the best gift was each other’s presence.

And as the day waned, all the rascals grew tired,

Even Mickey, who usually still would be wired.

They put up their things, all ready to rest,

Awaiting just one gift yet to be expressed.

Elsewhere in the city, a woman alone

Laid reading a Christmas book all on her own.

With no children to hug and no foreheads to kiss,

She wondered if next year would be just like this.

Two times, Mickey cried, “Read the book! Read the book!”

Which earned him from Danny a judgmental look.

But still, he obliged, and as the rat read,

He spoke of the meaning of all the words said.

The story was long, and the rhyme scheme did lumber,

And the trio soon found themselves starting to slumber.

With a smile, Danny read to the rest, snuggled tight;

“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.”

○●○🎄○●○

Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays! And thank you for reading to the end of this massive fic. I've been developing this one all month, and I'm very happy to say it is done. I'm going to take a nap now

[spandexinspace]

But you shouldn't listen to her.

Sequel time. Sort of. Follow up to "Mother Says", will be edited a final time and uploaded to AO3 at a later date.

___________________________________________

At first Querl figures Lyle will come around soon enough and concede that the logic to his argument is sound despite its unfortunate trigger. That he’ll agree that Querl was right all along. It won’t be the clean, near-painless end Querl had imagined, not with his mind already burning with every treacherous thought it can conjure up, endlessly repeating every word from their last conversation, but it’ll be an end.

But what starts as a day stretches into two, then three. Querl doesn’t leave the lab, buries himself in work that’s not nearly advanced enough to keep him from thinking about other matters, the spectre of things to come always present in his mind. Though he doesn’t normally dream he refrains from sleeping, unsure and, as much as he hates to admit it, a little afraid of what could come of it.

On the fourth day he finally gives in to the itching curiosity and ventures out to the monitor board to check the team roster. It’s late enough in the evening that most of his teammates are preoccupied with other matters, leaving only Dirk to keep watch over the wide array of monitors in the room. He’s sitting with his back turned towards the door as Querl enters, as oblivious as ever. The main monitor shows that there are two away teams, a total of ten people including Lyle, with one seemingly being engaged in something planetside and the other being labelled as off-world. Usually that means they are operating outside of a named territory. Potentially very far away.

"How long has the off-world team been away?" Querl asks Dirk, who seems much more interested in figuring out at what angle his chair will tip over than actually monitoring anything.

"Two days, maybe? Shouldn't you know?" he says, craning his neck to look back at Querl.

"It’s not my job to keep track of other Legionnaires.”

“Like you’re not just keeping track of your sprock-buddy.” It would take so little effort to kick that chair out from under him and watch that smug face get wiped off his face. Or at least to use a force field to do it. But it would take even less effort for Dirk to retaliate — Querl wouldn’t put it past him to do that — and he would rather avoid the inconvenience that could introduce at a time like this.

“Did I ask for your opinion, Sun Boy?” Querl asks instead, settling for glaring at him, though Dirk seems infuriatingly unaffected by his odium.

“Oh sorry, mom, I thought we lived in a free country.”

“This isn’t a country. And don’t call me that!” Querl turns on his heel to leave, and if Dirk shouts something that sounds suspiciously like ‘sincerest apologies, mother’ after him he pretends he didn’t hear it. What a sprocking prick. As if any of this is any of his business in the first place.

Another three days crawl by in an excruciatingly slow fashion, every minute seeming to stretch out into hours of painful wait, filled to the brim with uneasy anticipation.

Gates drops by the lab at some point, ranting about one injustice or another. It’s not an effective distraction, few things really are when Querl’s mind is set on something, but it’s easy enough to let him ramble on, to only interject a question here and there. Gates doesn’t ask difficult, invasive questions and doesn’t concern himself with their biped drama. It’s a nice reprieve.

Other than Gates’ visit there are unusually few distractions. Some of his other teammates come by to ask their usual inane questions, but none linger. Luornu is thankfully also with the away team, removing her sometimes far too prying eyes and ideas of supposed siblinghood from his life. Her concern comes in waves, he suspects her different selves don’t quite agree on how much of a nass they should give about him, but when she’s determined to bother him she rarely just lets things go. Querl is thankful for the relief. He’ll have to confront the rest of them one day, but it seems easier to do that at another time.

Almost 170 hours pass before Lyle returns to the lab. Querl, finally buried deep enough in his work to almost block out every other thought and idea and how tired he should be, doesn’t notice him until he’s standing next to him, a dark spectre at the edge of his vision.

“Lyle,” he says, snapping up from the monitor in front of him, fumbling to pause the near-endless scroll of input of data on it.

“Yeah, hi, we need to talk. Preferably somewhere slightly more comfortable than right here.” Lyle smiles tightly. There’s a smear of something grey across his cheek and dark rings under his eyes, his entire presens radiating an unsettling energy. Querl squirms in his seat. An urge to reach out, to take his hands in his own and tell him that everything will be OK, almost overtakes the rational part of Querl’s mind, clashing against it like rough waves against a surge gate. It’s selfish, it won’t help him in the long run, he tells himself.

“Where would that be?” he asks instead, standing up.

“Living area of your quarters?” Querl nods deftly and lets Lyle lead the way from the lab to his adjacent quarters.

Well inside Lyle gingerly sits down on the small, dark-grey couch in the centre of the room, though not before having to move a stack of folded blueprints out of the way. The couch is not comfortable and as far as Querl knows hasn’t served as much more than extra storage space since that was confirmed, but he suspects that’s not the main reason why Lyle looks so uneasy, sitting there with his legs and arms crossed and a resolute expression on his face. Clearing and taking the seat on the other side of the couch Querl feels the unease envelop him too as he lingers on the far edge of the seat, as if ready to spring up at any moment. He looks towards Lyle, fidgeting with his flight ring as he waits for him to say something.

“I suppose hoping for you to start was too much to ask for.” Lyle sighs. “Are we still doing this?”

“This?” Querl asks, his mind running through at least a dozen ideas of what ‘this’ could entail. The conversation, the previous conversation, their acquaintanceship as a whole…

“You know exactly what I mean,” Lyle says, uncrossing his arms to gesture towards him. “Breaking up, taking your sprocking mother’s advice. This entire idiotic thing.”

“Why is me caring about you all of a sudden idiotic?”

“Because you’re framing it like you care about me, but you’re refusing to listen to what I’m actually saying! I’m not ready to give up on this, us, but you seem so damn intent on it all of a sudden.” Lyle doesn’t get it, he’s focusing on the wrong things again, acting like this whole thing is on Querl. As if it can not be true just because his mother brought it up.

“It’s not about what I want, it’s about what has the most beneficial outcome in the long run. And we have no evidence that this is it.” Surely Lyle, of all people, should be able to understand that.

“What kind of evidence could there be? Do you want to peer review our relationship? Perhaps create a control group and apply for a grant?”

“Be serious. Evidence that this kind of relationship can even have a favourable outcome in the first place. We’re not a common coupling, perhaps there’s a reason for that.”

“Oh? Could that reason be that there are like twelve Coluans living off-world and most of them are centuries older than you?” Lyle asks. Despite the edge of mockery in his voice he’s not wrong. Most Coluans aren’t cleared to go off-world until they’re a lot older than him, and most of them are taught to keep to themselves. He is, as he so often is, an anomaly in that regard. But it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t disprove the untested nature of their relationship.

“That’s not what I meant.”

Lyle falls quiet and Querl risks meeting his stare, dark and rimmed and looking almost as tired as he feels, swirling with something desperate. When Lyle speaks again it’s in a lower voice, devoid of the earlier edge.

“Querl, I love you. I’ve loved you for years and I knew what I was getting into when I started dating you,” he says. “This is absurd. I don’t need you to act like you’re saving me something.”

“What do you need?”

"I need you to trust me enough to talk to me about these things, and to trust my opinion over your mother’s. There's no point in us being together if you can't do that." Querl fumbles for words, his mind drowning in engulfing dark brown eyes and venomous thoughts he shouldn’t listen to, telling him he should just go along with it. He looks away.

“Discussing certain subjects could be hurt- or even harmful,” he says, biting back anything but the bare logic. His feelings don’t matter, won’t change the pain he’s capable of causing, he has to ignore them.

“And you think this isn’t hurtful?” Lyle’s voice rises again. “You think I’ve been having a great week of not feeling like shit because my relationship started falling apart out of nowhere?”

"It was not my intention to hurt you."

"Which is a great thought, but your intentions don’t mean nass if this is what you’re doing with them. You can't decide for yourself what will hurt me or what's good for me.” Lyle stops, breaths an uneven, shaky breath. “At least not, you know, with these things. That has to be a conversation."

“Being forced to make a decision could be more hurtful.” Querl grits his teeth, tries to keep himself focused, to ignore the ever increasing buzz of regret at the back of his mind threatening to spill forth the second he missteps. He needs to be better.

“Not being given a choice is always going to be more hurtful in the long run. You should know that.”

“I’ve never be-”

“In life, at large, not just relationships. Look at me!” Against his better judgement his eyes snap back to Lyle’s own. He’s drowning again. “There, great. Everything you’ve told me about your past makes it sound like you’ve been jerked around at every opportunity, did you like that? Was that fun for you?”

“It’s not the same,” he replies lamely, feeling his focus and resolve falter even as he’s saying it.

“Isn’t it? No one has ever tried to do something you hated because they thought it was helpful? Grief, Querl, this can’t be the first sprocking time you’ve ever had to think about this.”

“Maybe not,” he offers. A large part of his time on Colu feels like a blur these days, an indistinguishable mass of time that was never quite his. He’d hated it, he’d felt nothing, he’d lost himself in his work until he’d stopped feeling like he had to be an actual person too, shutting everything out except when he couldn’t. “But I… This is entirely different from what my life was before the Legion, even before the anomaly and my mother’s return,” he continues, his mouth dry. Before he’d felt so many things and known there was a future outside of the endless pursuit of trying to make up for the crimes of his ancestors. ”And this isn’t about me.”

“It is, though. You can’t tell me you’d be fine with me trying to dictate your life. That’s not what this is supposed to be about,” Lyle says, leaning forward, face hard-set.

“How am I supposed to know what this is about. It’s just... It’s just complicated.” Querl’s eyes sting and his pulse pounds in his ears.

“So complicated you don’t want to do it?” He should say yes, lie and finally cut them both loose.

“... No.”

“Great, then we’re still on the same page about that, at least. Incredible work, wanna talk about the actual issue now or should we keep arguing around it all night?”

“No, I suppose not.” Querl breaths in, trying to gather himself, his mind filled with the jagged pieces of his shattered resolve. “Do you find it acceptable to date someone who will not age at the same rate as you do, primarily physically but potentially also mentally?” he asks, mechanically, for a nauseating split second reminding himself of his mother and her script.

"Yeah, again, I'm not sure we'll be dating forever. Which isn't an indictment, relationships aren't meaningless or bad or a waste of time just because they don't last forever, but it does mean that it might not even be an issue in the first place,” Lyle says, nonchalant if not for the guarded set of his face. A mask good enough that most wouldn't see through it.

"And if it is?" Querl prompts.

"I don't know, it’s hard to say without knowing exactly how it’ll play out. I guess I might want kids someday and that could be hard for, well, several reasons. But I stopped planning that far ahead after what happened to Jac. I’d rather just let this take its course and see where it ends, but I need to know I can trust you to do that. What about you, are you fine with doing this?

"I-...” He hesitates. “I never thought I’d actually have a choice in the matter."

"But if you did?"

Querl shakes his head slowly, eyes faltering. Nights of sleeplessness and the receding heat of the argument start to overtake him, numbing both his body and mind. His head swims, filled with thoughts of years of not knowing and often not even caring what happened to him as a person. He has no idea what he wants. He wants Lyle, to reach out to him and feel his warm skin against his own and forget every stupid idea he’s ever had and the last week of trying to convince himself that he needs to do better. To give in to his own selfish, hungry desires.

Lyle pulls off his gloves and reaches for his hands, stopping just short of touching them.

"Can I?" he asks. Their eyes meet. Querl nods, then grasps Lyle’s hands himself. The touch of his hands, marked and scared by years of work beyond his age, is warm and familiar. Lyle rubs his thumbs over his knuckles.

"So, you don’t know and I don’t know. Kinda seems to me like we just have to find out for ourselves," he says with a softness Querl doesn’t deserve.

"I suppose so." He takes a breath, feels it burn in his throat. "I am sorry that I didn't talk to you first. And for making you feel bad. It was not my intention, but it wasn’t right."

"Thank you. I'm sorry for kinda blowing up at you."

"It may, perhaps, have been justified." Querl blinks, forcing back the stinging sensation in his eyes.

"Maybe so, but still. Friends?"

"Perhaps slightly more?" Querl asks, daring a half-hearted grin.

Lyle snorts.

"Fair, good, saves me from having to break into your room later," he says, amusement evident in his voice. The tension in Querl’s chest starts to dissolve, seeping out of him with every word.

"And why would you need to do that?"

"Well, it turns out most of my clean shirts are here now."

"And theft is easier than getting your laundry done?"

"Obviously."

Querl closes the gap between them, moving across the uncomfortable couch until he can lean into the curve of Lyle’s body and let the familiar warmth fully overtake him.

“I’ve missed you.”

“Me too.” Lyle lets go of one of his hands to wrap an arm around his waist, tugging him closer yet. “It hasn’t been great.”

“I’m sorry.” It seems so easy to say it now, so trivial to forget the heat of the previous moment now that it’s over.

“It’ll be alright. We’ll learn from it.”

“Yeah.” Querl leans his head on Lyle's shoulder, letting his hair cascade over his shoulder. He presses a quick, chaste kiss to his neck and wraps his own free arm around his waist, burying himself in his presence. “Am I selfish, for wanting this?” he asks, voice low.

“Am I selfish for wanting this?” Lyle asks in return, squeezing his hand.

“No.”

“Then there you go. It’s fine to want things.” Lyle lets go off his waist, lazily dragging his warm hand across Querl’s back until it comes to rest at the nape of his neck, his fingers softly intertwining themselves in the slightly too long hair there. A shudder travels down his spine. He hooks the hand at Lyle’s waist into his belt, the metal cold against his hand. Feeling Lyle against him, smelling the faint mix of his cologne, sweat and space travel, his strong arm resting against Querl’s back and the slight softness of his stomach against his knuckles, feels like home. Like he belongs there, despite what his mother or rationality might say.

He can’t even begin to imagine how much he would have missed this.

Lyle turns his head, nuzzling into Querl’s hair. "Still doesn’t make any sense how you can have such nice hair.”

"Inferior human hair follicles, hm?" he hums, not entirely sure if Lyle will hear him at all. His body suddenly feels heavy, like the last days' worry has finally started to settle over him. He blinks, each time slower than the last, having to fight just a little harder each time to open his eyes again.

"Nah, I think some cosmic force decided you have to be just as attractive as you're difficult to deal with."

"I'm not difficult," Querl says, stifling a yawn.

"Uhu, and you're also not falling asleep on me right now?"

"Sprock you," he says, pressing another kiss to Lyle’s neck.

"Love you too, though I need to shower off all the space dust if you've decided it's bed time."

Querl sighs and gives Lyle's neck one last kiss before he starts to unfold himself, not at all inclined to let go of any part of his partner or welcome the cold that settles over his skin when they’re not touching. He doesn’t want to let go of him again. Not now, perhaps not ever.

"You can join, if you want," Lyle offers, sounding just as tired as he feels. “I’ll even let you use some real shampoo.”

"I've already showered today and, as you may recall, last time I took you up on that offer we had anything but a quick shower." Querl clears his throat. He supposes that’s technically a lie. The actual shower was quick enough.

"Hm, yeah. Oh well, give me a few." Lyle stands up and stretches out his arms above his head, freezing halfway through the motion to glance back down at Querl. "You are OK with me sleeping here again, right?"

"Unequivocally.”