#shannon fanfiction

[salemsvlog]

What the hell was that, the sequel

[eddiegettingshot]

i am of the opinion that the reason why buck doesn’t get jealous in a freak way over marisol or other girlfriends is because eddie keeps them firmly separated from him like buck is a volatile creature he keeps in a large glass enclosure. he compartmentalizes “woman i should be making my wife” and “man who is actually my wife” so hard that it legitimately never sets buck’s resource-guarding-puppy brain off. he’s vague about the details of his relationships, probably not openly affectionate with them, and when it comes down to it, chris will probably choose buck every time. if buck were confronted with a relationship eddie was actually happy in—he literally wouldn’t shut up about eddie and shannon sleeping together?!—i think his brain would turn to porridge. eddie’s just weird about him so it doesn’t happen. Good Bye

[shannonallaround]

When you love your friend's au so much that you write fanfic for it

Based on @punkinspice's @shadouge-family-au ***

Everyone froze as the glass shattered on the floor. 

Then little three-year-old Monty started crying because it scared him, quickly followed his twin sister Mabel, who cried because he was crying. Chase (who was five, almost six) simply looked at the glass mess and said “Oh oh.” 

Amy tiptoed around the kitchen table to reach the crying twins, soothing them with gentle hugs and soft words. She glanced up at her husband. 

Sonic stood exactly where he’d been when the glass had left his hand (by the kitchen sink). He stared at the floor, expression unreadable; a rare moment of him being perfectly still. 

He’s normally fast enough to catch things like that, Amy thought to herself. “Sonic?”

No answer. 

Any hid a worried purse of her lips, instead turning to her oldest. “Chase, you still have your shoes on—can you grab the broom for mama so she can clean up the mess?” 

Sonic then seemed to jerk awake. “Sorry. I’ll get it.” He quickly left the room, not meeting Amy’s eyes. Amy heard the shutting of a cupboard, followed by Sonic returning with a broom and dustpan in hand. 

“Let me help, Dad!” 

Chase had gotten down from his chair and now stood by his dad amid the mess. Sonic looked down into his son’s eyes, and managed a smile—small, but grateful. 

“Thanks, kiddo.” 

Chase chatted away about what he wanted to do after dinner while diligently holding the dustpan in place. He made Sonic chuckle once or twice, oblivious of the tightness in his dad’s shoulders. Eventually, he and his twin siblings left the room to play. Amy stood and took the broom from Sonic. 

“I’ll finish here,” she said, gesturing with her head at the living room. “Why don’t you go relax? It’s been a long day. I’ll join you in a minute.” 

Sonic looked at her, his eyes somewhat distant, but he gave her a half smile and nodded. Amy heard him sigh as he left, noticing him shove his hands behind his quills as he plopped down on their woven pink couch. 

A few minutes and a vacuuming job later (just to be safe), Amy came into the living room and sat beside Sonic. He stared up at the ceiling, frowning at nothing.

If Amy was going to get anything out of him, it was now or never. 

“What’s on your mind, Sonic?”

Sonic sighed through his nose. He closed his eyes as if thinking of what to say. In the end, he gave a defeated shrug. “You’ve seemed on edge for a few days, now,” Amy said carefully. “Ever since our last fight with Eggman.” 

Sonic’s eyes flew open. “I hate that man,” he spat out. He sat up, face scrunched with more choice, but unsaid, words. Amy stared at him, surprised at his strong language. Certainly it was universal knowledge that Sonic didn’t like Eggman (and frankly, Amy hated the man too), but to hear her husband say it outright in such frank terms was… unusual. 

“Are you upset about the forest he ruined?” Another sigh. “Yes… and no.” Sonic leaned forward, pressing his mouth against folded hands. He took a deep breath.  

“Do you… ever think about us as kids?”

Amy tilted her head. “How so?”

“You know… all the stuff we did.” Sonic stared at his shoes. “How… crazy it was that we were kids?” 

Amy took a small breath, understanding his meaning. She bit her lip. “Yes. All the time.” She waited for Sonic to continue, but he went quiet then. He began tapping his foot at the base of the couch—a nervous habit when he was thinking. 

“My earliest memories are running,” Sonic said finally. “I was, I dunno—maybe four? Five? Chase’s age. I didn’t know where I came from or where I was going, and I didn’t care. It didn’t matter. I thought I was fine. I was fine! I couldn’t even talk yet, and I was fine! I just ran wherever the wind took me.” He took a shaky breath. “But imagining our kids in the same position just-!” 

He cut himself off, burying his head in his hands. After a moment, he dropped them into his lap. 

“We were so young.”

Amy nodded slowly. “We were very young,” she echoed. After a moment, she asked “Does that scare you?” 

Sonic’s face scrunched again, but not in anger this time. “I was never afraid for myself growing up. I knew I’d be fine. But I was afraid for Tails, when he came into the picture. Some days I was so scared I didn’t know what to do with myself. And I guess, now… I’m afraid for them, too.” He ran a trembling hand down his face, forcing a laugh. “Heh… Guess things don’t change as much as you think they would, huh?” 

“No,” Amy said, watching him, “I guess they don’t.” She put a soft hand on Sonic’s knee, leaning into him. “But I think that’s a good thing. It means you love them.” 

Sonic sighed, his hand going to his forehead. “I just… I don’t know how to do this.” 

“Do what?”

“Raise our kids! Especially when we’re practically badnik magnets! It’s a miracle Eggman doesn’t send a squadron after us every week!” 

Amy rubbed his knee reassuringly. “Even if he did, you know Tails’ security system would warn us long before anyone was in danger.” 

“I know…” 

Amy thought a moment, then she leaned forward, trying to see her husband’s face. “You know, you know how to do this better than you think you do. You forget that you raised Tails.” 

A husky laugh, almost desperate. “I didn’t know what I was doing then, either! It's a miracle that kid's even alive! I pulled him into so many things without even a second thought, and I had no idea how to raise a kid, I—!” 

Sonic felt Amy’s hand on his chin then. It rested there for a moment, and then he relaxed just enough to let it guide him, lifting and turning his head so he could meet her gaze. Amy beamed at him, eyes soft and gentle. “And look how well Tails turned out.” 

Sonic stared at her. Then suddenly he realized his cheeks were wet, and he went to wipe them with his gloves. Instead, Sonic found himself sinking into his hands. He gasped. 

Amy started as her husband began to sob. A second later, she slid over again on the couch and encircled him in her arms, leaning her cheek against the side of his head, rubbing a soothing hand along his back between his quills. 

“I don’t deserve you,” Sonic coughed out from behind his hands. 

“I don’t deserve you,” Amy whispered back. She continued to rub between his quills. Then she kissed his head, feeling him tremble beneath her touch.

“Do any of us really know what we’re doing?” she eventually murmured in his ear. “We’ve never done this before, and that’s scary. I’ll admit, I worry about our kids sometimes too.” 

She continued as Sonic struggled to catch his breath. “We don’t know what the future holds. But,” she said, a soft smile in her voice, “you don’t have to do this alone. You won’t be alone—I’ll be with you every step of the way. We’re in this together.” She kissed his head again. “It’ll be another grand adventure.” 

A few more shuddering breaths from Sonic, and he gradually began to still. Then he nodded, though his head still rested in his hands. “Another adventure,” he whispered. “Like it’s always been.” 

“Like it’s always been,” Amy nodded affirmative. She moved her hands to hug him around his shoulders. 

They sat there for a few minutes, neither willing to move. They could hear their three little ones playing in the other room. Monty laughed. 

“You know what I think?” Amy eventually asked. “I think that, with our kids along for the ride, it’ll be even more fun. More so than it’s ever been before.”

At that, Sonic finally smiled. “Yeah…” He lowered his hands, revealing it, then he glanced her way. “The more the merrier, right?” 

Amy giggled. “Right!” 

She stroked Sonic’s cheek for a moment. Then she stood and took Sonic’s hand. Surprised, he followed her outside onto their balcony. It had been built directly onto the tree that had become their literal treehouse, overlooking their backyard. Sonic stopped beside Amy. 

“Woah…”

A vibrant explosion of oranges and deep pinks greeted them as the sun set over the distant mountains. They stared at the glorious sight, still holding hands. 

“The beauty still gets me every time,” said Sonic.

“Yes,” Amy sighed. 

After a moment, Sonic cleared his throat. "Sorry that I—" 

“No. It’s ok.” Amy looked away from the sky and into her husband’s eyes. She squeezed his hand. “I’m glad you told me.”

Sonic’s cheeks tinged pink as he smiled, rubbing the back of his head with his free hand. “Tryin’ to be better.” Then he met her eyes. “Thanks for listening.” 

Amy grinned. “Like I said: we’re in this together.” Then she pecked him on the cheek, which made Sonic laugh and blush harder. He squeezed her hand in return. He pulled her into a hug, his arms around her waist, head resting on hers while facing the sunset. 

“You know… I may still be scared silly,” he said, “but there’s no one else I’d rather be with on this crazy new family adventure than with you.”

Amy now felt herself blush. “Oh, Sonic.” She leaned into the fur on his chest, smiling as the sun ducked behind the horizon. “Me too.” 

[redpool]

Meet the cast & their characters

Jodie Cormer as Kathy Cross (née Bauer)

Austin Butler as Benny Cross

Tom Hardy as Johnny Davis

Michael Shannon as Zipco

Mike Faist as Danny Lyon

Boyd Holbrook as Cal

Damon Herriman as Brucie

Beau Knapp as Wahoo

Karl Glusman as Corky

Norman Reedus as Funny Sonny

[thatone-girly]

BLOOM MOODBOARD

PAIRING: Roman Reigns x Meya Anoa’i (OC)

SYNOPSIS: After an injury, depression, and adding a new addition to their family, Meya, alias Mercedes Evans, prepares to return to the ring at the upcoming Royal Rumble.

CHAPTERS:

ONE - pending…

TWO - pending…

THREE - pending…

PLAYLIST/RECOMMENDED TRACKS:

[schrijverr]

I Didn’t Mean to Say I Do, but I Do. I Do. 1

Chapter 1 out of 50

Years before joining the 118, Buck’s travels take him to El Paso, where he meets Christopher. When Eddie comes back from Afghanistan and Shannon leaves, Buck ends up staying. As bills pile up, the best move is for them to get married, just for convenience, they’ll divorce when Eddie comes back from his re-enlistment.

Then Eddie gets injured and it’s just easier to stay married for a little longer, while Buck gets started at the 118. However, Buck doesn’t mention his ‘husband’ and kid, not feeling like they’re his to keep, so when Eddie gets the offer from Bobby, they decide to lie and pretend they don’t know each other.

The whole lie gets out of hand as feelings start to become real, until it all comes to a head when the fire engine explodes.

On AO3.

Ships: Buddie (slowburn), Buck x Shannon (temporarily)

Warnings: referenced emotionally abusive parents, insecurity

~~~

Chapter 1: Prologue, Evan

Evan meets Shannon on a Thursday. He has been working on the Johnson farm for a while already, but he’s usually on the actual farm instead of the small store they have. It’s a chicken farm. They mostly sell to big retailers, but people also buy eggs directly from them.

It’s not a regular hours thing, most just wander in, knowing the Johnsons well enough to just call out and wait until someone comes to help them. No one locks their doors in these parts, something Evan has had to get used to, but he likes it.

Today, the Johnsons are off visiting relations and have left Evan in charge for the week. He is quite proud of the trust they have in him.

He’s out in the back when he hears the front door open and a young, feminine voice call out: “Mrs. Johnson? Are you home?”

Evan pokes his head in, grinning when he spots the person the voice belongs to. She’s attractive, brunette with bangs, a pretty yellow sundress and something in her tired eyes that speaks of a life of mischief. He greets: “I’m no Mrs. Johnson, but I’m more than willing to help. I’m Evan. What can I do you for?”

“Oh, I’m Shannon,” the woman – Shannon – introduces herself after she worked through the surprise of him appearing.

“Hi, Shannon,” he says, not minding that she didn’t answer his question, because that just means he gets to talk to her more.

“Hi,” she replies, ducking her head and blushing. Evan can’t help but preen at that. This town hasn’t had much in form of entertainment, but a job for funds so he can continue on with his travels one day is nothing to sniff at. Still, this is a nice change of pace.

“So, are you here just for Mrs. Johnson’s company or can I be a substitute?” he asks, giving her his most charming smile.

That makes her laugh. “I actually came for some eggs, but I wouldn’t mind some company, if you can spare the time.”

“For a beautiful lady such as yourself, I can spare all the time,” Evan tells her. “Coffee? Or more a tea person.”

“Definitely coffee,” Shannon says with a smile.

“Alrighty,” Evan grins cheekily, giving her a wink as he goes to make them coffee.

Soon, he’s putting down two steaming mugs as he sits down across from her at the table. She takes it with a sugar, but no milk. He waits until she has taken her first sip and smiled at him, before he asks: “So, is your egg shopping trip always a social call, or am I just special?”

When he asks that, she sighs, her demeanor changing as she slumps into herself slightly, looking less lively than she had been earlier. “Buying eggs is my only social call,” she tells him. “Being a single mom will do that to you.”

Evan grimaces sympathetically at that. He has never had a child, but he was one and his two parents together had it rough raising him and Maddie, it must be hard doing it by yourself. “There isn’t anyone?”

Shannon chuckles humorlessly. “There are my ex-in-laws, but they’re only concerned with judging me and telling me I’m a terrible mother and a terrible person. Like I didn’t already feel like that when serving my ex-husband with divorce papers while he’s in Afghanistan.”

He is learning a lot about Shannon in a pretty short time and he can feel his eyebrows creeping up his forehead. Not in judgment, just surprise at all she’s sharing.

Embarrassed Shannon hides her head in her hands as she groans: “I am so sorry, I totally didn’t mean to dump all that on you. God, I’m such a mess. You must think I’m a mess.”

“It’s okay,” Evan assures her, meaning every word. “You obviously needed to get that off your chest.”

“Ugh, you’re so nice about it too,” Shannon groans again. “First actual person outside Mrs. Johnson that I talk to and I’m totally awkward, but you’re totally nice. Just my luck.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” Evan grins at her. “I used to be a bartender in Peru before I got here, I have the whole ‘open up to me’-vibe down. It’s actually quite nice to listen to other people’s problems.”

At that she perks up. “Peru?” she asks. “What were you doing out there? And why on earth would you come here after that?”

He shrugs easily: “I’m trying to find myself, I guess. Didn’t do that in Peru, so I’m trying here.”

“Is it working?”

“Not really,” he laughs.

“I could’ve told you that. Here is where you lose yourself,” she jokes, though she trails off at the end, voice becoming melancholic once more.

“Well, I don’t mind being a little lost, if I’m doing it with you,” Evan replies, putting on his best flirting voice. She seems into him and he’s been craving some sort of interaction with anyone.

Mrs. Johnson can be kind of motherly, but she more smothers and judges, and there are some of the neighboring teens that help with collecting eggs in the mornings, but it’s not what he’s searching for.

He wants to have some fun, a bit of closeness, even if it’s just for a few minutes. He’s already lost, like he said and he wouldn’t mind getting lost in her instead of his own head. He truly thought the whole traveling thing would do more for him, but it hasn’t filled that empty void that is left by Maddie telling him to go all by himself.

Indeed, she is into him. She tucks her hair behind her ear and gives him a glance through her lashes as she smiles shyly at him. “You’re a charmer,” she tells him.

“I try,” he smirks.

“As much as I would love to flirt some more with you – and trust me, I really do – I can’t. I haven’t found the time to shower in like a week, so I’m gross and sweaty and I’m pretty sure my dress has spit on it. Plus, I need to get home soon, before I am deemed even more of a horrible mother, so I really can’t,” she tells him, a little too honest but entirely apologetic. “My moment to myself for this week is almost over.”

Evan feels sad at that, both for her and himself.

He’s actually quite enjoying their talk. It’s weird how much he likes to hear about the lives of others, even if they’re not great. Like, if he can absorb enough of others, give a listening ear, some comfort, he can feel better himself, give something to the world and hope it’ll give something back to him one day.

But he also feels sad for Shannon. He doesn’t know her well, he actually barely knows her at all, but it is clear she’s struggling. She doesn’t have a partner to help with her kid and it seems there is no one in her corner. This egg run is the only thing she has that is hers and even that is brief.

“Well,” he starts, getting up as she does, “I am more than happy to pack your eggs. On me. And if you need another moment to yourself, you can always come and seek me out. I’m more than happy to flirt with you some more or hear about your divorce and your horrible ex-in-laws.”

“Really?” she chuckles, as if she thinks he’s joking.

Completely sincerely, he answers: “Really. Plus, I love kids. If you ever want to bring yours, I’d love to meet them.”

“You do?” Now she sounds surprised, but hopeful.

“I do,” he assures her. “What’s your kid’s name? How old are they?”

“His name’s Christopher,” she answers. “He’s three.”

“Sounds adorable,” Evan smiles.

“Maybe you’ll meet him one day,” she says and it’s the best maybe he’s gotten in a while.

“I’ll look forward to it,” he tells her, before clearing his throat and asking: “So, how many eggs may I gift you with, my lady.”

She giggles at that, the gesture making her look youthful and more carefree than she is. She tells him she needs six, he gifts her eight, winking that it’ll be their secret. They say goodbye and as she goes, he waves at her, hoping he’ll see her again.

He doesn’t hold out much hope, no one ever seems to come back for him. However, next Thursday, he finds her there again, this time calling out for him, instead of Mrs. Johnson.

It becomes their thing, the Thursday egg chats.

Evan learns more about Christoper, who she tries to care for, even though she feels like she’s drowning. He learns about Helena and Ramon, the ex-in-laws, who hover and scold and are itching to rip her baby away from her. And he learns about Eddie. Eddie, the ex-husband.

The way Shannon talks about Eddie surprises him. With how her relation is with her ex-in-laws and the fact she divorced him while he is deployed, he expected some resentment, or ill words for the father of her child. Especially when Evan is the only person she talks to, who doesn’t know him and isn’t automatically in his camp. But that isn’t the case.

Instead, she paints a picture of a boy, who had convinced himself he loved her, but who she couldn’t believe, because he kept running. He tries to be a good father, a good husband, over video calls, but she can tell he cares more about Chris than her and she just can’t. She couldn’t. So, she left, but she can’t go. She is still here, still stuck with Chris and her horrible ex-in-laws.

He expected more resentment for the man that got her pregnant at eighteen and a mom at nineteen and then trapped her in this town, but she just feels bittersweet about how it ended. That it had to end. That they couldn’t have the future together that they wanted.

During this visits, they keep flirting, never going any further. Shannon doesn’t have the time to have a quick fuck somewhere and with Mr. and Mrs. Johnson returned, Evan also doesn’t really have a place to offer, unless they wanna risk getting caught in the hay loft. Neither of them are too old for it, but both don’t wish to face Mrs. Johnson like that.

So, it’s just flirting, just fun.

Evan misses the physical closeness of sex, but he has also missed the emotional closeness of a friendship and what he has with Shannon is an actual friendship. A flirty friendship, but a friendship nonetheless.

It’s quite nice to have that connection. Makes staying in El Paso better than it had been when he first got stranded here. He likes what he and Shannon have. She gets him like no one else here gets him.

She’s a transplant like he is, she doesn’t fit in this small town where everyone knows everyone and every bit of personal business is town business. She doesn’t think this town is where her entire life should be, for her it’s a stop, much like it is to him. When they have the means, they’re going to get out of here and they might not know exactly who they are or where they’ll go, but they know that there is more than this, that they can be someone. Someone that matters.

Therefore, he is more than happy to have this connection with her, to make her laugh and make her feel her age and let her forget about everything for a few minutes.

This changes two months into their little arrangement. It’s Thursday, so Evan is hanging around the front of the farm more than usual, waiting for Shannon under the watchful eyes of Mrs. Johnson.

She usually gets there between breakfast and lunch, but lunch has already come and she hasn’t shown up yet. Of course, she is allowed to deviate from her normal schedule and it’s not like she promised to come, but Evan still worries.

So, maybe he is looking around for her, not doing his job as well as he should and maybe he perks up when she shows up, hurrying her way as he grins: “Shannon!”

He notices she startles at his voice, looking at him in wide eyes as if she’d been trying to avoid him seeing her. He then also notices she is carrying a small boy. Christopher, his mind supplies. Unsure of how to act, he slows down slightly, looking at the boy. He is adorable with little curls on his head and thick glasses strapped to his face. Unable to help himself, he smiles at him and says: “And you must be Christopher.”

Shannon looks surprised now, then a little apprehensive. “You don’t mind that I brought him? I couldn’t find a sitter and Ramon and Helena are out of town. A cousin’s wedding.”

“Of course I don’t mind,” Evan says, turning to Christopher again and slightly raising his pitch: “How could I mind meeting such an adorable little guy, huh? You’re helping your mom out today, buddy?”

Christopher smiles up at him, bright and filled with joy in the way only a child can. A little clumsily, he says: “Hello.”

“Hello,” Evan says back. “I’m Evan.”

“Evan,” Christopher repeats.

“Yeah, that’s right! Good job,” Evan grins. He gives Shannon a look: “So, the speech therapy helping like you’d hoped?”

Shannon is just staring at him like he’s crazy, blinking into the present when she’s addressed as she quickly says: “Uh, y- yeah, yeah it is.”

“Are you okay?” he asks, frowning slightly.

“I’m fine, thank you,” she laughs awkwardly, tucking her hair behind her ear with her free hand. “I- it’s just that you’re really good with him.” She bounces Christopher, who giggles at the action. “Most guys think they’re into the whole mom thing until they actually see the kid.”

“It’s that why you haven’t brought him before?” Evan asks, slightly offended. He can’t believe she thought he’d drop her if he actually saw the kid. He has listened to her bitch about her divorce, why would that be okay, but meeting this ray of sunshine not?

The guilty look in her eyes tells him the answer to that, but out of her mouth comes: “No, of course not, this little guy just used to nap before. He’s, uhm- he’s grown out of that now.”

Evan eyes her suspiciously, but doesn’t want to pick a fight in front of the kid. So he just ignores her and smiles at Christopher again, cooing: “Well, aren’t you all grown up,” much to the boy’s delight, who kicks his legs making Shannon wince when she gets hit by a stray foot.

She looks tired, her smile slightly forced. Evan immediately feels a little guilty about snapping at her, even if the sting of rejection is still fresh on his skin. As a peace offering, he says: “Want me to hold him so you can properly pick the eggs you want? I’m sure Christopher would love to meet some of the chickens.”

Indeed Shannon gives him a grateful look as she hands Christopher over. He looks a little apprehensive about being thrust into the arms of this new guy, but with his history of physical therapy and being behind in the walking department, he is more than used to it and settles in pretty quickly when Evan sends him a big grin.

That afternoon they don’t flirt, but Shannon does stay longer than she normally does.

Evan introduces Christopher to some of the chickens, holding his sides as he kneels behind him so he can stand on wobbly legs and let the chickens peck at him. He watches him giggle as his heart melts, uncoordinated hands trying to pet the chickens that get scared off, until Evan catches one and holds it with one arm as he guides Christopher’s hand with the other, so he can actually pet him.

Shannon drifts among the chickens with an empty carton for her eggs, picking out her own as she hums under her breath. Sometimes she looks back at him and Christopher, smiling when he catches her eye.

It’s nice in a different way, Evan thinks.

Shannon keeps to herself, which is a little bit of a downer, but Evan can’t blame her. This is her moment alone, but now Christopher is also with her. He is a bright boy, managing to babble his heart out and make Evan’s day, but he can imagine that’s different when you spend every moment with him, not just the excitement of doing something new.

He, on the other hand, doesn’t mind spending time with Christopher at all. He can still enjoy the view that is Shannon and get his dose of interaction with someone other than the Johnsons and the surly housewives of El Paso in Christopher. Still, nice in a different way isn’t the same kind of nice and he misses talking to Shannon slightly.

However, there is some leftover guilt churning in his gut about him snapping at her earlier and he has enjoyed his time with the kid, so he doesn’t mention that to her when they say their goodbyes, parting for the week.

After that she comes over more often, buying less eggs when she comes by to justify coming more than once.

Sometimes she’s by herself and it is like before, but more and more often she’ll bring Christopher along with her. On some days, she enjoys hanging out with Evan and Christopher, going around the farm to play with the chickens, other days she enjoys exploring on her own, having some time for herself as Evan keeps Christopher occupied.

Evan doesn’t mind too much. It’s clear she needs the break and Chris has become his best buddy, so it isn’t a hardship. When she is there alone, they still flirt, but Evan is starting to think that it is never going to go anywhere. At least, not until Eddie comes back. Despite their divorce, she seems to be waiting for him anyway, as if she needs to talk to him, before she can move on.

He doesn’t blame her. He doesn’t know what it’s like to have a kid with a guy who is halfway across the world, to divorce him, because he doesn’t love you and not be able to really talk to him about it.

So he lets her have what she can take and wonders if he can take her hating him if he moves away before she can move on, even though he knows – deep inside he knows – that he’s gotten attached to her, to Chris. That he is clinging like he clings to everyone, taking what she offers, because it is more than he has.

At four and a half months of knowing each other, things shift again. She shows up at the farm late in the afternoon. It is time for a break and Evan is sitting on the porch, enjoying the sun shining on his face, when she comes stumbling out of the car, Chris on her hip.

She drops the boy in his lap, already talking a mile a minute: “I am so sorry to ask you this randomly, but can you please, please, watch Chris for a few hours. I promise I’m going to be back, but Helena has been smothering me and I already have a headache, because I have a toothache and a spot opened up at the dentist out of the blue today and I just want to take care of this without feeling like I’m the size of an ant, even though-”

“Hey, hey,” he interrupts her, sending her his best assuring smile. “It’s okay. Go to the dentist, Shannon. I’ll watch Superman over here.” He bounces Chris in his lap.

“Are you sure?” she checks, while she’s already backing away. She knows just as he does that he isn’t going to say no.

“I’m sure, now go,” he shoos her off.

She leaves quickly after that, leaving him with Chris on the porch. He looks down on him and Chris looks up at him, expression open and trusting. Chris is always happy to see him, Chris doesn’t know better than Evan being the coolest person around, who lets him do the big boy things his grandparents say no to and tosses him around like mommy can’t. Chris is upset when they have to go home again when he’s having fun with Evan.

Right now, Evan doesn’t know what to think. He has gone from having a flirty thing with Shannon, to being her friend, to being Chris’s friend, to being her support, to an emergency babysitter. He isn’t sure if that’s an upgrade.

Chris smiles at him and says: “Evan, chickies?” and Evan’s heart bursts. Definitely an upgrade.

“Of course we can go see the chickes, buddy,” he tells him warmly, getting up and swinging Chris in a large swoop until he’s on his shoulders, making sure to hold him tight, so he won’t fall.

As Chris laughs at the action, Evan finds himself smiling wide. He might be clinging to Shannon, unsure if she’ll ever be able to fill that void entirely, even if it’ll only be for a moment, but he doesn’t regret it. Not when there is Chris. Chris, who never gets tired of seeing him, who always wants to hang out with him, who fills that void in a way Even never thought about.

Mrs. Johnson shakes her head disapprovingly when she spots him with Chris. She, like much of the town, doesn’t trust Shannon much and she has especially taken a dislike to Evan’s friendship with her. It hurts a bit, but he is used to disappointing mothers, so he takes it in stride.

When Shannon comes back from her appointment, she gives him a kiss on the cheek in thanks. It is the most he’s ever got, but he can’t fully enjoy it, too sad that she can’t stay after and will take Chris with her when she goes.

He calls after her not to be a stranger and that Chris was a trooper, hoping she’ll let him babysit again.

She does.

In the weeks after, he sees Chris more often. Though these times she actually coordinates with him beforehand, so he can take the time off to spend time with him. She doesn’t explain why she’s dropping him off and Evan doesn’t ask. He figures she prefers him as a babysitters to her ex-in-laws, who have so much to say about her. He doesn’t blame her for that.

Then, four weeks into this new dynamic, she shows up alone on a Thursday when Evan is working, much like the first time she came. She asks for some coffee and Evan brews it for her, noticing she doesn’t entirely seem like herself.

He sets down the mug in front of her, lowering himself into the seat across from her. Once they’re both drinking their beverage, he asks: “So, wanna tell me what’s going on? Chris with his grandparents today?”

“Yeah, they’re at the airport. Uhm, they’re- they’re picking Eddie up today,” she drops the bombshell on him. “He’s done with his service. Didn’t feel like having our first conversation in months there. He should greet his son and parents. His family.”

Evan’s mind spins at the information that has just been hurled at him and what that means. Shannon might finally get her closure. Chris will get to see his daddy again. The awful ex-in-laws will get their son back. It will be a reunion with a man Evan doesn’t know, but whose life he has become intertwined with.

Eddie Diaz is home and Evan isn’t sure where that will leave him.

~~

A/N:

Love the idea that no matter what, Buck will fall into accidental co-parents about Chris with a Diaz, very iconic of him <3

Also, updates will be on Wednesday and Sunday, so stay tuned, I am really excited about sharing it and so pleased with how it turned out :D

[snowviolettwhite]

come live with me, we can be pirates then you won't have to cry or hide in the closet and our love will be passed on

An Early 2010s 9-1-1 Fan-Fiction

The first chapter is up:

----

It is June of 2010. Public schools across the nation of The United States Of America are all out for summer vacation from Hershey, Pennsylvania to El Paso, Texas.

Evan "Buck" Buckley, Edmundo "Eddie" Diaz and Shannon Macdonald are three eighteen years with baby Christoper. They just graduated high school and running away from home to California, The Golden State and find each other.

Shannon drags her best friend who is Eddie and baby to California with her to set off her dream of becoming a therapist. Buck and Eddie have found their passion for becoming firefighters and help and healing people.

Into adulthood they go.

--

Inspired By This Photo & The Idea Of Fire Academy

[buddiesmutslut]

Something that always makes me giggle in fics is when they say someone “fell pregnant” bc like…

That’s… that’s such interesting imagery.

Like, I tripped on the rug, & WHOOPS, now I’m pregnant! 🤣

Or like, I’ve heard people say, “they’ve fallen ill” but I don’t feel like it works with pregnancy?? Bc falling ill feels like something contagious, & growing a child is definitely NOT something you can catch by getting sneezed on 😂😂

I genuinely don’t know why people use this phrase, or if maybe it’s just not something that’s used where I’m from, but I always have to pause & laugh a little. It’s not like, a pet peeve or an ick of mine in fics or anything, but it does always amuse me

[missmagooglie]

A double date with Buck/Tommy and Eddie/Kim.

Kim is charming.

So is Tommy.

Eddie is grinning from ear to ear, but always seems to be looking anywhere else except meeting Buck's gaze...

... and Buck is giving Eddie the exact same look as when Ana showed up at the firehouse and Ravi made the mistake of uttering the word "wife".

Tommy, at a certain point, manages to get Buck alone and tells him, "You gotta cool it with the way you're eyeballing Eddie. I think you're making Kim uncomfortable." (What he doesn't say is, "you're definitely making me uncomfortable")

And Buck's like, "Well something weird is going on. That woman looks just like Christopher's mother."

Tommy goes, "Lots of people have a type, Buck. It's not that unusual to date someone who kind of looks like an ex"

And poor Buck is like, "No, you don't understand. If I didn't know she was dead, I would swear to you that was Shannon."

And Tommy kind of frowns and says, "How well did you know her? I thought she died not that long after she and Eddie reconnected."

And Buck's like, "I mean, I didn't. Not really. I met her a few times. But, you know, I see her photos all the time when I'm at Eddie's place and Tommy it's weird how much they look the same."

Tommy's been to Eddie's house. He didn't look too closely, but he vaguely remembers asking after a picture of a woman with dark hair and bangs and being told it was Eddie's late wife. Kim is blonde.

The thing is, Tommy knows a red flag when he sees one. And his newly out of the closet boyfriend being weirdly intense about his very close best friend's new girlfriend? That's fucking scarlet.

But they're in the middle of a double date, and Eddie and Kim are probably wondering where they've gone, so now is not the time to open up a conversation about whether this particular red flag is a deal breaker.

So they head back to the table, and everyone is smiling, for the most part, but Buck is still being weird, and Tommy's definitely uncomfortable by this point, and Eddie keeps darting his eyes between the two of them like he desperately wants to know what they were talking about, and Kim seems kind of puzzled at how the energy at the table has taken a turn suddenly, but it's fine. It's fine.

At least, until the waiter clears their plates and asks if they'd like to see a dessert menu and Eddie automatically replies, "What do you think, Sh-"

And he catches himself before he actually says the wrong name, but it is not a graceful recovery. He kind of freezes for a long moment before he clears his throat and forces a grin and says, "Should we see what they have, Kim?"

And Kim tells him, "I don't really like sweets all that much. I'll take a potato chip over a piece of candy any day. But I'm happy to look if you'd like dessert."

Shannon had a sweet tooth. Even when they were really pinching pennies, she'd always reply to the offer of a dessert menu by saying, "Come on, Eddie. It can't hurt to look!" with a playful grin in his direction. And every time, he'd agree to split something knowing he'd only take a bite or two before letting her have the rest.

It takes Eddie just a moment too long to respond, so Tommy's the one who ends up saying, "I think we're good with just the check, thanks."

And technically, no relationships end on that date. But all four of them walk away with some uncomfortable new awareness of an extra person hanging over their relationship like a specter - Shannon's ghost lingering between Eddie and Kim, and Eddie creeping in at the edges of Buck and Tommy's relationship with Buck getting closer and closer to the edge of understanding exactly what that means.

No relationships end that night, but all four of them go home alone anyway.

[flowerslut]

Years after their departure from Forks, the Cullens have lowered their guard, moved on from their fear, and made plans for the future. There is no sense in a life half-lived, but despite evidence that assures, Jasper refuses to let his guard down. He knows what dangers can lie uncovered. Eventually, the peace is shattered. A package and a poem arrive in tandem. It is a warning. It is a threat. If the Cullens want to survive, they have to act fast.

roots, a twilight fanfiction

coming to an Ao3 + a FF.net near you

Rating: M (for sexual assault, body horror, graphic descriptions of violence) [full list of trigger/content warnings here] Words: ~197k Canon Compliant / Post-Canon / Canon Couples / Jalice-centric

[preview of chapter one under the cut]

Jasper was annoyed.

Not at the high-pitched whine of the overworked Mac or the fact that he could hear Renesmee loudly complaining to Esme on the level below. It wasn’t the pungent odor of whatever Esme was using to clean the oven that drifted through the vents, nor was it the fact that his chair had started squeaking this morning and they were conveniently out of WD-40. He wasn’t even bothered by the fact that Carlisle had ignored three consecutive calls from his cell while he talked on his work phone, and hadn’t muted any of the calls, letting the rhythmic buzzing on top of his desk echo throughout the second floor. 

No. He was annoyed because Rosalie hadn’t answered his texts before their flight.

His eyes flickered to his phone where it sat, propped up against the unused lamp on his desk, before they moved back to the screen of his desktop. Then, he glanced toward the door of his study, back toward the phone, and then to the screen again.

He could hear the other occupants of the house moving about as the day finally ended and the night picked up where it left off. None of them were heading in his direction yet, but he knew that being interrupted tonight was guaranteed.

His last conversation with his wife flickered through his head and he frowned.

Jasper looked back toward his phone.

Then back toward his computer screen.

Eventually the annoying ‘SMS NOT DELIVERED’ notification flickered across his phone screen, mocking him with its stubbornness. He tapped the ‘resend’ button without another thought, restarting the arduous process of waiting for his damn text message to send.

It wasn’t his main focus tonight. His fingers clicked away on his keyboard, his attention focused more on the internet browser in front of him. 

They were undecided between two different towns now. “Some place new,” their youngest family member had begged. Renesmee had been begging for years now, pretending to be tired of the old homes they’d been shuffling between for over a century now (barely thirty years for her), and it looked like she was finally going to get her way.

It wasn’t for anyone’s sake other but Renesmee’s. They all knew that. It had been almost ten years since his niece had gotten the idea in her head that it would be fun to live somewhere “separate, but close.” Those had been the peculiar words she’d chosen while trying to explain the hypothetical tunnels that they could use to travel between the hypothetical three houses that would be built all “close together but far enough away that any neighbors wouldn’t see”.

They’d never had neighbors close enough to see what was going on in any of their homes, but even so, ‘separate but close’ had turned into a running joke. A ridiculous joke that was inching closer and closer to becoming a true project they’d be taking on soon.

Bella still blamed her daughter’s idea on some urban exploration video she’d watched one too many times during, what she’d called, Renesmee’s ‘breaking-and-entering phase.’

That particular phrasing still made Jasper laugh. 

But Edward had rolled his eyes before going off on another tangent about ‘ethical responsibility’ that they’d all heard some variation of before. He’d never been entertained by his daughter’s adventures across North America as she journeyed into every rusted, grown-over abandoned building she could find, and even less thrilled with the way she’d been enabled by her built-in best friend. 

When Edward told Renesmee no, Jacob usually told her yes. Vice versa. Rinse and repeat.

Jasper’s eyes flickered toward the door across from him, then toward the screen of his phone. The red notification flashed right after he fixed his gaze back on his computer and he, without looking, reached out and pressed ‘resend’ again.

Jasper knew that thirty-six thousand feet above the Pacific Ocean didn’t make for a great place to receive text messages, even if the plane’s wifi worked. Knowing Rosalie, she would enforce her and Emmett’s ridiculous ‘no phone’ rule until they landed at LAX. The only person who had ever protested to that limitation on family vacations had been Alice, and then later, Renesmee had joined in.

Nowadays it was only enforced on trips where Rosalie was around.

Of course Rose and Emmett both checked in every few days for a handful of minutes. They sent pictures, asked how everyone was (Renesmee, mainly) and shared a quick anecdote or two from their trip across South Asia. It was one of the places they hadn’t explored yet, and because they didn’t seem to want to be careful or do more than the basest amount of research into their travels, someone had to.

Jasper brought up another internet window. It had only been minimized, and he was trying not to watch it too closely. (He was barely even watching it at all.) It only took a few seconds to refresh the tabs in the window. Their flight coordinates updated, their plane’s flight progress trip refreshed, and finally the rental car shop around the corner from the airport in Manila updated their systems, confirming the prompt return of their coupe several hours before.

They were still a few hundred miles from the coast and out of radar range. Until their flight was back in line-of-sight range from a tracking station and off of satellite tracing he would continue to refresh the page periodically.

It was something to do while he clicked between ‘for sale’ advertisements in Elkins, West Virginia and in towns around the outskirts of Erie, Pennsylvania. The two towns weren’t similar in many regards, except for more cloud cover than the average small town. The hundreds of acres of affordable land was what had become most appealing to Esme, who had already begun to draw up ideas as to what their new home—or homes—would look like.

Of course Esme had also been far too willing to indulge Renesmee with her planning. It provided her with two things: the ability to keep her entire family close, and the challenge of designing and constructing multiple homes.

The upstairs loft area was covered end to end with sketches and blueprints and fabric samples. Alice had been forced to utilize her smaller sewing machine as of late, even moving it into his study so she could work “with some god-forsaken space to think” while fixing up a few of her current projects.

 Jasper laughed when she first complained under her breath that the power of suggestion was useless in the face of Esme with a project underway. She’d ranted more than once to him over the past few months about how she’d have to restitch every hem she’d applied to the family’s winter wardrobe once Renesmee’s curtain-and upholstery-designing lessons were done with. When Jasper had suggested she use the area when Renesmee and Esme weren’t around, she just whined more about “the principal of it all!” and had since then refused any alternative ideas.

The power of suggestion, he noted, was also useless when it came to his wife.

Jasper sighed quietly and regretted it instantly. The footsteps that had been halfway toward the stairs at the end of the hall paused, and with a turn and a skip, he knew his peace was as good as over.

He minimized his pages of tracking details and pulled up the real estate website on his browser. Two seconds later, a peculiar knock that lasted several seconds and included a variety of multi-finger taps and scratches, echoed through his study.

“Is that The Prophet’s Song?” He asked, without needing to. They both knew that was the beat that had just been rapped against the wood.

A frustrated groan carried through the door before it was flung open. Renesmee’s exasperation was as clear in her tone as it was in her aura. “What the hell!” She flung her hands up dramatically before letting them fall to her thighs with a slap. “You’re too good at that,” she complained. “It’s so annoying.”

“If you keep picking songs from popular bands it’s going to be easy.” He fixed his eyes back onto his screen as she strode in. She didn’t bother closing the door behind her; anything they said would be heard throughout most of the house whether the door was open or not. “That’s also the third Queen song you’ve chosen this month.”

“I’m on a Freddie Mercury kick.”

“Is that so?”

“An 80s kick, really.” 

“That song came out in ’75.”

She huffed. “You know what I mean.” Jasper knew he wasn’t getting out of this conversation easily when she didn’t sit herself down on the couch or the chaise beneath the window. Renesmee perched herself on the edge of his desk and grinned at him. “Dad doesn’t think I should get to have a room in Aunt Rosie’s house and their house so I’m digging deep into his favorite music eras.”

Jasper snorted. He kept his eyes trained on the screen as he clicked through photos of a few decrepit farmhouses on one of the properties he was looking at. “Very mature.”

“Thank you, I think so, too.” She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed. “At least I’m not campaigning for my own house. Which I totally could, by the way. Grandma said she’d help me design one and I know Mom wouldn’t fight me on it. Dad’s just stubborn.”

“He can also probably hear you.”

“No, he and Mom went ‘hunting’,” she stage-gagged and shuddered with all the dramatics Jasper had grown to expect from her over the years. He’d only met Bella’s mother twice, but sometimes he swore that Renesmee took after her more than she did either of her parents.

It was a theory that annoyed Edward, so naturally Jasper had adopted it into his belief system and brought it up at regular intervals.

He performed a quick sweep of the remaining auras in the house. Alice was down in the den with Esme, both of them highly amused by some conversation they were having or TV show they were watching. Carlisle was in his office, expelling a fragile exasperation that Jasper knew wouldn’t last, as he explained over the phone to a member of the hospital staff that yes, while he did want his patients to have a direct link to him for emergencies, a baby with repeated bouts of hiccups did not constitute as an emergency.

Jasper silently noted Bella and Edward’s absence. “Time to plot then, I suppose,” he hummed as he opened a new tab and prepared to research machinery rentals in Elkins. After they priced out how much it would cost to start construction there, they could get the ball rolling. The minimized window at the bottom of his screen was tempting him, but he pointedly ignored it. He could wait for Renesmee to leave before refreshing it.

Renesmee groaned and then laughed. “Aunt Alice is right!”

Jasper quirked an eyebrow but didn’t avert his gaze. He knew that, but— “About what?”

“You’re such a worrywart.”

He lifted his eyes to see her leaning overtop of two of his monitors to glance at the screen of his phone. The red words declaring ‘SMS NOT DELIVERED’ had flickered once more across the screen without him noticing. His unsent text message was still green where it sat in his phone.

He reached out for the device and turned the screen off before he pocketed it.

“Instead of sending them Zillow links you could just, I don’t know, ask them for updates probably. Not that Aunt Rosie will reply to either.” Jasper ignored her. Since she couldn’t see the screen he was looking at, he quickly closed down the browser that had held all of Emmett and Rosalie’s flight tracking information and trip details. It would take him a few minutes to hack back into the TRACON but it would give him something to do after Renesmee left. “Aunt Alice told me Aunt Rosie hadn’t replied to you in like, four days. I bet she blocked your number.”

He finally met her expression. Her shit-eating grin was the same one Edward wore sometimes.

Jasper rolled his eyes. “To what do I owe the harassment of my favorite niece?”

“And don’t you forget it!” She hopped up off of the desk and walked over to the couch, flipping through some discarded mail. “You really ought to open this you know,” she told him as she lifted up a letter from their new forger. “If Mom finds out you haven’t replied she’s going to steal this.”

Jasper stood and walked around his desk, taking both the unmarked letter and the rest of the mail from her hands. “Renesmee.”

“Uncle Jasper.” She tried to school her expression into something more serious as she saluted him, but the smile was still there on the corners of her lips.

He ruffled her hair before she could smack his hand away, then turned toward his file cabinets. “What do you want?”

“I want to go hunting!”

“No.”

“Oh, come on—”

“Why do you want your dad mad at me, too?”

A deal had been made last year when Renesmee got her way and they’d all agreed to do something different and start from scratch in their next town. She would have to turn her diet back to mainly human food before the new year, limiting her hunts to once a month and then, eventually, once every other month.

Something about theories surrounding her nutritional intake and the fact she needed to diversify her diet. Jasper hadn’t been paying too much attention to everyone’s renewed interest in Renesmee’s health. There’d been one incident in the past few years where her health had been taken into question—a flu that had made her bed bound for four days—but even that being a singular isolated incident hadn’t prevented it from turning into Carlisle and Rosalie’s main hobby.

“I thought you were the fun uncle.”

He cracked half of a smile at that. “We both know that’s not true.”

“If I go alone Dad will really have a bitch fit. You and Aunt Alice are like, the only two willing to let me do whatever without having an aneurism.” She paused. “Well, Mom sometimes, too.”

“Great. Talk to her when she gets back.”

Jasper almost felt bad about the wave of genuine frustration and acute disappointment that filled the room as Renesmee made a silent exit, not bothering to close the door behind her. If he weren’t currently occupied he’d probably consider her offer more. After all, she was right about one thing.

He loved his niece, but he didn’t give a damn what she did. If she wanted to test out whether hybrids could get tetanus or how much blood she could really ingest before getting ill, who was he to stop her?

[desertpersephone]

saint sebastian does not cry out as the arrows pierce his body | pre-relationship evan "buck" buckey/eddie diaz | 2k | general audiences | graveside visit, asking forgiveness, coming out, religious themes and metaphors, catholic guilt

a/n: if i was in the writers room this scene would be canon

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut and his elbows dug into his knees as he buried his face in his hands, a sick feeling threatening to choke him. He wasn’t sure how he had managed to drive all this way, everything was kind of a blur. But the sick feeling had been there since this morning, since last night actually, since Marisol had found out about Kim and Kim had found out about Marisol and both of them had rightly dumped him. If he was honest, the sick feeling had been there for a long time. Since he had tried to make it work with Ana, since Shannon had asked for the divorce. Maybe even his whole life. Definitely since he kissed Robbie Martinez in that rainbow dabbled sacristy with the Holy Spirit emblazoned in leaded glass above their heads. The wind picked up, blowing a breeze over the back of his exposed neck, tears burning at his eyes as he stared at the grave in front of him. There was a bouquet of wilted flowers resting at one corner, dry and brown and older than they should be, and the grass was a little crunchy but the shade cool. The great granite slab stared back at him, rising up like a monument of his mistakes. It was starting to become too easy to forget Shannon, too easy to feel the memories slipping through his fingers and it left Eddie clinging to the good ones, if for no other reason than to share them with Chris, letting the bad fall away like sand at the beach. He was so afraid that he would forget Shannon all the way, and instead Eddie was realizing that he had just rewritten those memories, hidden in a fantasy because Shannon was safe. Shannon was dead and safe and he could disguise himself as a grieving widower, hide his distaste for dating women under a guise of grief. “Do you think she can hear us when we talk to her?” . . . "I thought I could fix me."

read on ao3

[salemsvlog]

Alright but Edmundo Diaz cheating on his girlfriend with the doppelgänger of his late wife is so tenelovela.

Abuela but eat this up.

[neonshrike]

We Saved Each Other

(AO3 Link)

Summary: The full story of how the Lone Wanderer and Fawkes’ friendship began, with two different rescues.

Preview: Penny sat against an old, rusted wall as she tried to catch her breath. All she could hear was her fast heartbeat and the quiet rattle of her gun in her shaking hand.

She wished she was anywhere but here. Dogmeat huddled close next to her, trying his best to be quiet.

Tag List (check my pinned to join!): @captastra @socially-awkward-skeleton @tommyarashikage @rhettsabbott @imogenkol @carlosoliveiraa @shellibisshe @risingsh0t @inafieldofdaisies @rainwingmarvel7 @sorrythatwasmean @superblizzardfire @the-laridian @the-lastcall @spaceratprodigy @birdswings @truly-very-british @teamhawkeye @cloudofbutterflies92 @cptcassian @thedeadthree @shegetsburned @risingsh0t @confidentandgood

[shannonallaround]

Sonic Prime Story Snippet 1/2 (post S3E1)

Shadow woke up coughing.

Everything hurt. He was pretty sure he had cracked a rib, what with the sharp seizing pain he felt every time he took a breath. Great—just what he needed.

Shadow groaned as he tried to get his bearings. He lay sprawled out on rough rock; looking up, he saw an opening far above him, framed by the jagged earth. Barely any light reached him. Shadow rubbed his face; he vaguely recalled getting punched by that metal hedgehog and then falling. He must have ended up in the fissure Nine had made while trying to stop him and Sonic.

Shadow stared up at the opening, and for a moment, panic filled him. Had Sonic—?

Yes. Shadow breathed a sigh of relief as his memory settled into place. He had successfully thrown Sonic over the fissure, past the force field barrier, and out one of the cracks in the Grim. He was safe... for now. With those bird robots Nine had sent out after him, however, that wouldn't last long. He had to get up. Shadow pushed against the rocks beneath him to sit, only to nearly topple over as a dizzy spell hit him. (He really had taken a nasty beating to the head.) As Shadow waited for the pounding to ease, hand to his temple, he heard something that made him tense: clanking metal footsteps.

Knocking Shadow out wasn't enough; Nine had sent his robot henchmen to finish the job. As silently as possible, Shadow rolled over and ducked down behind the rocks he had been lying on. He suppressed a pained grunt as he landed. It was only a matter of time before they found him down here; undoubtedly Nine had equipped his bots with infrared vision, and while Shadow's night vision was decent, it was clear who would have the advantage in the dark. More metal steps; they were all down here, looking for him. He had to get out, now.

Shadow slipped further behind the rocks, listening to pinpoint his enemies' locations. Rockets propelled something slowly through the air—not twenty feet away, Shadow guessed. It had to be that Rouge bot, combing every pebble it came across for signs of him. The bot wasn't nearly as graceful in the air as the real thing—nothing and no one could out-fly Rouge the Bat. Shadow took a silent breath, shaking his head slightly to clear it; he couldn't afford any distracting thoughts now. He had one shot at this. The hovering came closer.

Three... two...!

Shadow shot off like a bullet. He hit the Rouge bot dead-on, knocking it off balance in the air. In an instant, he was on top of it, and in one swift movement Shadow grabbed the wings and angeled them up, sending them both on an upward trajectory towards—!

WHAM! 200 pounds of metal smashed into Shadow from the left, sending him flying off the Rouge bot. He smashed into the rock wall with so much force that his ears rang. He fell to the floor in a heap.

Shadow could hear his attacker approaching as he tried to push himself up. He panted as his arms shook, each breath torture. A sharp kick sent him back into the wall. Shadow glanced up just as the heavy metal foot of the Knuckles bot crashed down onto his chest.

Stars exploded behind Shadow's eyes. He gasped as daggers seemed to shoot through him, slashing at his battered ribs, his scream caught in his throat. He wheezed, hands clawing at the robot, but they slipped uselessly across the smooth metal surface; he was pinned, and pinned good.

The robot pressed down harder. Shadow could hardly breathe. The haze of pain blurred his vision; it dulled his thoughts; it sent the world spinning. His struggling slowly weakened. Through the haze, Shadow sensed another figure approaching. He looked up to see their backlit silhouette—the Amy bot. Shadow's eyes widened as the machine whipped out its hammer and swung it at him with inhuman speed.

Everything went black. *** The robots stood over their defeated foe, completely still. They did not celebrate their victory; they simply awaited orders. After a moment, static broke over their coms. "Bring him to me." 

------- Read Part 2 here.

DO NOT TAG AS SHIP

[multi-fandom-lunatic]

Happy Birthday, Butler - Mostly Butler + Keefitz (fluff)

"This is Butler Vacker. He's my emotional support cat." I picked Butler up, and he mewed in response. The lazy, tired mew. Keefe was almost in tears.

"Butler?! That's the best name ever." He sniffed, stroking Butler, who was surprisingly calm. He was so averse to Sophie, it was strange how quickly he'd warmed up to Keefe.

I grinned like a fool. "Today is his birthday." Keefe squealed more, and Butler mewed again. He knew what this meant for him. "Come on," I told Keefe, dragging him to my closet. I threw open the doors, and lo and behold, below my extremely elf-sized clothes, were smaller, cat-sized clothes. And these weren't just a typical cat-sized T-shirt, but rather the most colourful, ridiculous costumes. Keefe burst out laughing, leaning against my shoulder to stand up.

I put Butler on the ground, the black and white cat stalking away and nestling into a pile of blankets in the corner, meowing in resignation. I squatted on the floor, sorting through the clothes. Keefe sat down on the floor, grabbing my face and pressing a kiss to my cheek. His blond hair obstructed my view of the closet, but I didn't particularly mind, seeing as Keefe Sencen was kissing me. I sighed, but it came out through a giggle, and nothing was more perfect.

"This is the one," I said, deciding on a sparkly pink outfit with a happy birthday cap. Keefe nodded excitedly. Then came the task of getting Butler into it.

"Come on, Butler," I said, begging him with my teal eyes. He loved teal. "Please? We need you in this."

Butler let out a pathetic meow before crawling into my arms. I grinned, scratching him. "Well, that was easy. I think he likes you here."

"Obviously." Keefe swished his hair.

"Don't get an ego about it."

Butler complied, and soon he was wearing a sparkly pink skirt with a teal and pink shirt and a stripey birthday cap. I pulled out my imparter, snapping multiple pictures of a pouty, princess Butler.

"Say, cheese, baby," I said, angling the imparter to Butler's side.

"CHEESE!" Keefe yelled, photobombing the picture. I laughed so much I snorted. Butler meowed.

I left the room for a moment, returning with a cat treat and a candle on top of it. Keefe giggled. I held Butler in my lap, with Keefe's arm around my waist and head on my shoulder, as we sang an off-key rendition of Happy Birthday. Keefe and I blew out the flame, and I took the candle away soon after, much to Butler's delight. He retreated to the corner of the room, content now with his treat.

Keefe handed me a wrapped box. I eyed him curiously. He shrugged. "What's a birthday without presents?"

I tore the wrapping paper, gasping as I took out two pyjamas; one for Butler and one for me, both teal with smiling cats printed all over them.

I threw my hands around Keefe's neck, burying my face in his body. He laughed again, but it was soft and whispery, like the sound of curtains swishing in the night.

Somehow, Fitz and I ended up next to each other, leaning against the doors of my closet. and somehow, Butler had made his way into Keefe's lap, snuggling into the fabric of his pants. Peace enveloped us, and I was breathing in the perfect stillness that was now. I sighed, a small smile on my face.

"Happy birthday, Butler."

***

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FAVOURITE FICTIONAL CAT!!!! just a quickfic because i'm too tired. also this is a lottt longer than i planned aha (genuinely thought it'd be like three paragraphs max, now its *checks notes* 606 words)

@thesfromhms i have delivered

[the-oracle-at-delphinitely-not]

Panakes Kisses

(Find me on AO3 @ Cabin_10_Camper!)

Sophie and Keefe were hanging out under the Panakes tree, Keefe being absolutely goofy, as per usual. 

“Maybe I should start calling you Shorty instead of Foster,” Keefe snickered. “You barely even reach my chin!”

Sophie rolled her eyes, smiling. “I’m not that short.”

“If you’re not that short, then why do I have to bend down to kiss you?” Keefe said smugly, running a hand through his already tousled hair. 

Sophie huffed. Keefe had a point- he did have to bend down to kiss her. 

“It’s ok, Foster, I think it’s adorable.” Keefe kissed the top of her head. “Little teeny-tiny Foster.”

“Hey!” Sophie poked him in the side. Big mistake- Keefe was a menace when it came to tickle fights. Within minutes, he had her pinned against the tree, arms against her side, smirking down at her. Then, he bent down and kissed the tip of her nose.

“Ok, fine, you win.” Sophie relented. “But can I get an actual kiss now?” 

“Only if you can reach.” Keefe winked at her. What a dumbass. Sophie tried to push off the tree and give herself some height to kiss Keefe on the lips. Key word: tried. She was still a few inches short, and ended up kissing Keefe’s neck instead, right below his jaw. 

Keefe suddenly released her arms, turning away.

“Sorry,” Sophie mumbled. “You know I’m clumsy.”

“It’s fine.” Keefe squeaked. Why did his voice sound like that? What was wrong?

Sophie walked around to where Keefe was facing, concerned about him. 

“Keefe? What’s wrong?” she asked, confused.

“Noth-nothing,” Keefe stammered, avoiding her gaze. 

Suddenly, Sophie realized that Keefe was blushing bright red. Why was he blushing? A theory popped into her head: maybe Keefe really enjoys neck kisses… 

Well, only one way to find out. Sophie thought gleefully.

“Well, if you’re sure you’re ok, I want to try to kiss you again.” she said slyly, stepping closer to Keefe.

“What is going on in that head of yours, Foster? You’re planning something and I know it.” Keefe eyed Sophie suspiciously. “I don’t trust this…”

“Oh stop being a baby,” Sophie rolled her eyes. “After all, I’m just a teeny-tiny Foster, right?”

She stood on her tiptoes, acting as if she was going to try to kiss him on the lips. She stopped abruptly, looking towards the dinosaur pastures. 

“Keefe, is that Silveny over there?” she asked. Keefe looked over to where she was pointing, oblivious to her sneaky little trap. While Keefe was distracted, Sophie mustered up her courage and pressed a gentle kiss onto Keefe’s neck, right where she had accidentally kissed before. Keefe let out a small gasp.

“Foster-” he began, looking redder than Dex’s hair.

“I knew it!” Sophie shouted triumphantly. “I found your weakness!”

“What? No, you just… surprised me is all.” Keefe weakly tried to explain. “I, uh, uhm…”

“Liar.” Sophie smirked at him. “Now I have something to make fun of you for.”

Keefe made a melodramatic ‘offended’ face. 

“Foster, when have I ever made fun of you?” he asked indignantly. Sophie raised an eyebrow in response. “Ok, ok, I get it, I do that a lot.”

He gently traced circles on her back with his fingertips. 

“But don’t knock it till you try it, m’kay Foster?” Keefe whispered in Sophie’s ear. She shivered. There was a moment where nothing happened, and then… Then, she felt Keefe’s lips on her neck, sending a shiver of electricity down her spine. She let out the same small gasp that Keefe had made earlier. Sophie could feel her heartbeat all the way down in her toes.

Keefe pulled away, flushed and proud. Sophie was sure her face was beet red. 

“Not so cocky now, eh Foster?” Keefe teased. Sophie had no response.

Now she fully understood Keefe’s reaction to the heaven of neck kisses