#to move out and start a new life and find this job

[doromoni]

I’m your what? | CL16

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Ships : Charles Leclerc x University student! Reader

Genre : Fluff

Summary : Last thing you remember was you were studying for your finals, but now you find yourself face to face with Charles Leclerc and he’s claiming that you’re his girlfriend!

Masterlist

Your eyes fluttered open as you felt a headache forming in your temple. Clicking your tongue in annoyance, you massaged your head trying to smooth the throbbing sensation. You swore that someone was pummeling a sledgehammer to your head at this point. Your hands once again lifted from the soft silk sheets as you tried to soothe your aching head.

Wait… Silk sheets?? since when could you afford silk?? Last you’ve checked you were broke and on the verge of financial abandonment. In the middle of your confusion, your eyes focused on the wall in front of you. When did your room transform into something so fancy? Your eyes started to dart all across the room.

A piano, a dog bed, and racing helmets? Just where the fuck are you?!! You started to panic, thinking you were kidnapped in your sleep or something. You felt your breath quicken and your sweat falling onto your neck

You tried sitting up, but you groan at the sharp pain that went straight through your spine and your head landed back on the softest pillow you have ever experienced— it felt like a cloud and a million bucks.

Slowly, with regulated inhales and exhales, you tried to calm yourself down and open your eyes once again. But nope, you were still panicking. Your mind started to swirl in different directions. Still clouded with confusion, you moved your head to the side and you stared at the grand piano sitting spotless and shining on the side of the room.

Who the hell is rich enough to have a grand piano inside their room?! Did you get kidnapped by a billionaire or something? No, that’s stupid! … who’d even kidnap you and shower you with all this luxury? You could rule out kidnapping, right?

No, it’s better to keep your guard up, so until you make sure you're safe and whoever house this is is not a serial killer — you’d refer to them as your kidnapper, even if they dressed you head to toe in Prada. Yes, you checked the tag and you were wearing Prada to sleep… crazy.

Surveying the other side of the ginormous room. The wall was decorated with racing helmets and priceless racing memorabilia. Some old and most of them new— and the collection went from floor to ceiling. Your eyes shone in amazement as you realized that the majority of the helmets belonged to Ferrari.

Wow, whoever this belongs to is obsessed. You were a fan yourself, the helmets belonged to your favorite driver after all. But wow your kidnapper’s support is something else, the collection was just that extensive.

Damn. Well if you were honest if you had money, you’d be doing the same. You’d tour around the world and follow every race in every country on the schedule. Oh, how money works… and you’re getting distracted! You should be fearing for your life here but no, you daydream about attending races! Girl get your head straight.

You tried to remember the events that happened last night. Ok. It was an uneventful Thursday and you just got out from a shitty late-night lecture. Your professor was in a sour mood and he made it his job to make your lives a living hell. He held a pop quiz for the 3rd time in a row, you’re not worried … you studied for it because you knew he’d have another quiz. What’s even the point of calling it a POP quiz

Feeling entirely drained out of your life, you went to grab a snack from the McDonald’s near your campus. Fries and a Mcflurry was what you needed for a pick me up but just your luck, the machine was broken again and the fries were soggy and it’s as salty as the Red Sea.

With disappointment after disappointment, you begrudgingly dragged your feet back to your dorm room. And because things could get even messier, your keys kept falling to the floor as you tried to slot it in the keyhole— and you’re embarrassed to admit it but on your 5th time of trying, you finally entered your room.

With what’s left of your will, you gathered yourself and pushed on. You were a big girl in your last semester of Uni and a few more weeks will be your finals then it's graduation! Then it's sleeping in, watching F1 races, stalking the drivers through social media and daydreaming about waltzing into the paddock and somehow catching a driver's attention… yeah you are delusional, you admit it. Nevertheless! in a few weeks you will be a free woman.

But of course, before that, you need to do some studying and a lot of it. Your course in mechanical engineering was demanding to say the least. Truth be told you just wanted to drop out rather than die trying to understand differential equations for your AP calculus class. But to reach your dream and be employed by one of the teams in Formula 1– you knew you needed to be one of the best and you needed a degree for it.

And so even after a can of diet Red Bull in your system, while trying so hard to focus and not fall asleep. Your head slumped down on your notes… with the position you were in was asking for a stiff neck. With the thought of “Screw studying! I just want to be a wag or something” you snoozed off.

That was the last thing you remember and the next thing you knew you’re awake in an unknown bed, in an unknown location that looked like a Ferrari museum in the best way possible.

Noise from outside the room suddenly caught your ear. You pushed yourself off the thousand-dollar bed tossed the silk sheets aside, dashed your way to the door and listened to the other side. While you press your ear to the door you could hear footsteps and a jiggling sound approaching the room, drawing nearer by the second.

In your panic, you pushed yourself away from the door to grab something, anything, for self-defense. Not thinking of the fact that you should’ve locked the door first.

Realization fell on you as your eyes saw the door open. You readied your weapon and raised it above your head — then you locked eyes with the most beautiful set of green eyes.

Your arms froze above your head, as your eyes widened and your jaw fell at the realization of who the person was. It’s Charles freaking Leclerc.

“Y/N?? What are you doing? why are you holding my Monza trophy?” He said with a confused look plastered all over his place as he started to go near you.

It’s Charles Leclerc! How the hell are you in his house?!

“Y/N? Are you ok?” He asked once more, knowing the trophy was in his possession and he placed it back from where you found it.

“ Is everything alright?” Charles was now in front of you again yet you remain unresponsive. His green eyes now held concern, as he lifted his hand to cradle your jaw.

“Mon Bebe, you’re making me worry” Charles uttered now both his hands on your face as his thumb moved to soothe you.

WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING? Did He just call you with a pet name??

You tried to move your mouth, but nothing came out but jumbled words. You could only look up at Charles with unspoken words.

Unspoken words such as “What the fuck is happening here? Because I’m so confused!”

“ Hey, hey. Do you want some water?” He asked as he tried to let go, but you clutched his forearm before he walked farther.

You swallowed back the block in your throat and coughed out “Wait”

“I- uh. Where the hell am I? How did I get here, and what the fuck is happening here?” You blurted out all at once.

Charle’s beautiful face scrunched with confusion then it suddenly turned into him laughing.

“Oh, Mi Amore! You know how to start the day huh? Now, come we need to be early to the motorhome today!” He continued to chuckle as he suddenly kissed you on the cheek, ignoring your questions.

“ Glad that I’m amusing to you. Charles what the fuck?? how am I here and how the hell do you even know me??” You exclaimed, not knowing what to feel or even think.

“Uh… you’re here because you slept over and I know you because you’re my girlfriend?”

“WHAT?? GIRLFRIEND” You shrieked with disbelief at his joke

“Ok, I’ll play this game with you. Yes, Y/N L/N you have been my girlfriend for 4 years now. We met during Spa when you were interning as an engineer for Ferrari “ Charles smirked thinking that you were acting— not that you were spiraling from everything.

“I’m your what?? 4 years?? What happened to Alex??” You chided in, earning an eye roll from your “boyfriend” from Ferrari

“Very Funny, Mon Bebe. Who’s Alex?” Charles asked with an eyebrow raised. Now it was your turn to roll your eyes.

“Alexandra Saint Mleux? Your girlfriend! Y’know the one after Charlotte?” You tried to explain to the Monegasque in front of you as if it wasn’t his own life

“Ok~ I don’t know any Alexandra and why are you bringing up my past relationship? Are perhaps jealous, hmm?”

“Huh?? Come on you know Alex! Your girlfriend after Charlotte … the one you dated after only 3 months of breaking up with Charlotte”

“Now you’re just being crazy, Mi amore! You’re the only girl I’ve dated after Charlotte. And it wasn’t 3 months Amore, remember you made me wait for a year before saying yes to a date?” Charles was now using his hands to prove his point across. How Italian of him— well he is in Ferrari after all.

This was a dream… yeah definitely a dream! That’s the only explanation. Yup!

“You need to move your cute butt or we will be late! You wouldn’t want Horner up your ass for being late, you’re already dating the enemy. “ Charles pushed you towards the bathroom door.

“I work at RedBull??” You gasped with surprise

“Don’t act coy with me, you traitor. Now get ready!” Charles fully pushed you inside the massive bathroom and closed the door behind him.

You gaze at yourself in the mirror… Holy freaking hell. You were in Alexandra Saint Mleux’s Body! Just what the hell is going on?!

~~~

a/n : I’ve been obsessing over some chinese novels about transmigration and I thought what the hell I’ll make one about F1! Lmao this is my own version/twist on the genre so don’t come for me if i’m wrong. Oh! if this is your first time hearing about this sort of genre …. i suggest you read some from wattpad, i recommend “ Pick the Second Male Lead” by Harui30.

Maintaglist : @myescapefromthislife @peterholland04 @charlottef1 @fangirl125reader @mel164 @gnarlycore @chloelovesln4 @vickykazuya @merchelsea @ln4author @qzmef @nxk1309 @styl1shl1v @lottalove4evelyn @gr3yhues : open for request!

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ stick with me ]❜

━━━ .°˖✧ requested by anonymous ˚₊ ⊹

ft. kang sae-byeok x f! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ finding out you’re also participating in the games & staying by your side throughout┊1.6k words

contains: mentions of canon-typical violence, open ending, season one spoilers, headcanons mainly, established relationship, sunshine (& kinda naive) x grumpy trope, sae-byeok being protective & the best gf, all of this is a little rambly like word vomit i hope you don’t mind

➤ author's note: squid game felt so empty without her like i adore all of the new women in season two but i missed her so much T-T

╰₊✧ even if she doesn’t show it through her expressions, she’s really upset to find you in this situation— not because she’s mad at you, but because she’s mad at herself. she wonders what kind of awful girlfriend she must be not to have noticed you were struggling through debt like she was. now that she thinks about it, she realizes how painfully obvious it was with your strange behavior when it came to working any freelance job you saw a sign of (you weren’t a pickpocket like her, you would never commit any crime intentionally), and being overall stingy when it came to spending money on yourself. she might unintentionally give you the silent treatment for the first few hours simply because she feels terrible about it all but still doesn’t want you to leave her side despite that.

“are you mad at me because i didn’t tell you?” you whined, sticking by her side like a baby duckling with its mama and gently holding on to her arm because she wasn’t looking at you. “sae-byeok… i just didn’t want you to worry about me when you already had so much on your plate…”

she merely blinked in response, stone-faced like usual, making it impossible to determine what was going through her mind. there was a sinking feeling in her chest, the feeling of failing one of the few people she cared about.

“it’s okay… i get it… i’ll give you some space— just come look for me when you wanna talk, i’m going to talk with some of the other people here…” 

she suddenly grabbed you by the hand and dragged you back before you could move away, wrapping her arm around your waist in a protective manner, “no, i’m not mad at you, i promise. just stick with me, okay? i wouldn’t trust anyone here if i were you.” yes, the majority of people here seemed to be middle-aged people who were simply down on their luck. no, she didn’t believe there weren’t any bad ones who would easily take advantage of your kindness in such a large group of people.

you didn’t seem to quite understand what she meant in the last part, but you still cheerfully pulled her in for an embrace once she confirmed she wasn’t upset as you always did when a miscommunication was cleared up. (you didn’t see it, but she cracked a little smile when she hugged you back.)

╰₊✧ pushes you away the second she spots deok-su and quickly tells you to stay away while he confronts her about a past you didn’t know much about, making a scene in front of everyone and progressively getting more aggressive towards her. of course, once he makes his first swing, you immediately run in and start yelling at him to leave her alone when there were clearly more pressing issues at hand. when gi-hun interrupts because he wants to also confront her about something, you had to restrain yourself from pushing him away because you were a pacifist at heart and had been taught to respect your elders no matter what all your life. 

╰₊✧ later when you two join the little alliance gi-hun formed, she makes them keep an eye on you if she has to part from you for any reason. she knows that bastard would make a beeline for you the second he sees you alone, and that bastard isn’t above playing dirty by hurting you or holding you hostage to get leverage on her. the guys find this to be so goddamn adorable and frequently tease sae-byeok for her obvious soft spot towards her girlfriend because they can tell she’s flustered despite how indifferent she may look. listening to you talk about her reminds them that she’s just another young woman who is trying to care for her loved ones and not the shady thief who works with gangsters they once thought she was. they also defend you guys from anyone being homophobic and swear that they will attend your wedding once they get out alive, noting they likely won’t have money for gifts after all the reward money goes toward paying off debt, but you tell them you would appreciate their presence anyway!

╰₊✧ after the first game when they vote all go home, she wants to make you swear on your life that you don’t ever go back to that dangerous place, but she knows how unrealistic that is. she now knows about the crippling debt you both have and it wouldn’t be long before the loan sharks will hunt you down to force you to do terrible things to pay it back. so on the last day of staying on the korean mainland, she coughs up the money to pay for a nice last date before the two of you willingly enter what you believe to be the closest thing earth has to hell.

╰₊✧ instead of the dangerous, loner vibe she has in the original, when she has you by her side, she has the aura of a mama bear— which is fitting considering you’re like a little cub. she’s very protective of you and gives everyone a look that says “hurt her and i’ll kill you” to shut down any possible schemes before they start and helps you out during all of the games because she doesn’t want to risk anything happening to you. it might feel a bit infantilizing to you, but she’s just so terrified at the concept of you getting injured or worse.

red light, green light - keeps you behind her at all times, verbally reminding you not to panic even though she can sense you freaking out. might even hold your hand and guide you through it all, telling you to close your eyes and ignore the sound of bullets as she pulls you through the finish line. 

sugar honeycombs - tells ali to keep you company while she goes into the bathroom to sneak around the vents (he’s your best friend, by the way, the energy is immaculate) and immediately has you pick the triangle shape when lining up (there isn’t too much she needs to do because it’s one of the easier games for you to do).

special game (night of murder) - wants you to hide under the bunkbeds at first, a good idea until people started tipping them over. it’s difficult to find you with the lights flickering and with deok-su after her, so she has you met up with everyone else at gi-huns bed to protect each other. this battle is also likely the first time you cause bodily harm to someone else in self-defense, which will probably fuck you up especially if they are found dead later on. you’ll have some minor injuries, maybe a fractured rib or some cuts, but you’re still alive and that’s all that matters to sae-byeok.

tug of war - might look annoyed at your optimism to win with all the women and the old man on your team, but trust me, she really appreciates it since she wouldn’t know what to do with herself if you suddenly shut down and because you seem to keep their heads ups with your infectious smile. there’s not much she could do to help you out here as it’s a team effort, but she was half-tempted to bribe you into a team with all men just in case (and also because you looked like you were about to start a fight with sang-woo over him insisting that they needed more men and wanting to kick ji-yeong off the team) yet ultimately decided against it which turned out to be the best decision. 

╰₊✧ the games strengthen your relationship through all of the blood and trauma, sticking together through it all and taking care of each other in the lowest moments. you two often share food and sometimes even sleep in the same bed if the other needs comfort, which would be very cute if your hands weren’t constantly trembling from fear and your skin didn’t have little specks of dried blood all over. sae-byeok is tough and has seen her share of violence, but it was all things she was trying to hide from you and keep you safe from ever since she entered this relationship with you. no matter how much you try to assure her that you can handle it, the sinking feeling of failure never leaves her.

“i’m… i’m really scared…” you sighed, cuddling yourself into her side. the barracks were so quiet you could hear a pin drop, yet there was the almost suffocating looming fear of death haunting the place knowing so many souls died within these walls. it always felt so cold even under the blankets with the powerful air-conditioning, but the warmth radiating off of sae-byeok’s body felt like a sanctuary. 

“i know, i know,” she assured. there was a part of her that wanted to admit that she was scared too as she rubbed circles into your back to ease you to sleep, she didn’t dare to even think of her biggest fear in case it manifested into reality. she wouldn’t know what to do with herself in case it came true, so she chose to bury the thought of it deep down where she prayed it would never show itself again.

she dreams of winning these games with you, using the money to pay off all your debts, helping her mother escape north korea, to go towards her brother’s future, to helping the both of you start new lives where you both were accepted— all things she thinks of to push back all of the dark thoughts and help her sleep in your arms, forever by your side.

request was [ Please could you do something about saebyeok x gf!reader? where they both went to the games 😪😪]

[starlightsigner]

Iced Avocado AU

coffee shop/alternate ending to Sonic 3 (movie spoilers) Shadow will find Sonic coffee in every universe <3

Two years after the end of movie 3 Shadow comes to Green Hills to fulfill Eggman's dying wish, deliver a message to Stone, who took up running the Mean Bean again

With no real plan or place to go after the message is delivered, Stone adopts offers Shadow a place and a job until he decides what he'd like to do next with his life

Taking him up on his offer, Shadow becomes Green Hills' newest barista

News travels fast in a small town and it doesn't take long for the Wachowski's to hear about who just moved into town

At first Sonic is just glad to know Shadow is alive, but he knows they could be friends if Shadow could just learn to chill and act his age -50 years

Shadow just knows that Maria loved life. She talked about the good in people and the joy of living. He hadn't seen much of it yet, and he didn't think he was going to see much of it in this small town, but his stay is just temporary. It doesn't matter that the people here aren't afraid of him, that the doctor's lovesick assistant treats him well, or that he's free to come and go and just BE as he pleases. He'll be gone sooner rather than later

If anything Shadow is starting to think that the longer he stays in Green Hills the worse off he may be. He thought Sonic's dad had forgiven him for the mistaken identity thing, but the more he hangs around the Wachowski home he cant help but feel his spines stand on end a bit when it's just the two of them. Not only that, but he's beginning to think this fresh mountain air is having negative side effects on him, why else would his heart start skipping beats whenever he sees streaks of blue?

Prologue

As the reactor core rapidly destabilizes Eggman knows he's out of time to tell the one person in the world who ever cared about him what his companionship meant to him, but as he prepares to go live he realizes the signal is to scrambled to even send out an audio file

Refusing to let his last words go unheard, he gives the file to Shadow, mumbling about how as improbable Shadow's survival would be he's come to realize how annoyingly resilient hedgehogs seem to be

After watching the Eclipse Cannon explode out of range of Earth's atmosphere, Stone sits in the streets of London, looking at another situation that no person could possibly survive. The last time he knew for sure the doctor would come back, this time he refused to acknowledge the part of himself that wasn't so sure.

What he did know for certain is that even though he'd been fired, he hadn't been cloned yet, and as long as he was Doctor Robotnik's assistant he would be sure that there would be an evil lair and a latte waiting for him when he returned

Meanwhile in an unknown corner of the world, Shadow pulls himself out of an impact crater, taking a moment to finally breathe before tracking down a man he barley knows on a planet that even 50 years later he knows even less

Two years later Stone's life is the closest to normal its been since before he joined Gun. Not everyone trusts him and most people still call him the 'weird bean guy' but that doesn't stop any of them from coming in daily or making the Mean Bean the top rated coffee shop on Yelp this side of Montana. It's only a matter of time before Cuppa Heaven falls to the Mean Bean's superiority, then the whole state will be his

While cleaning behind the counter after closing the locked front door rattles as someone tries to force it open. Stone calls out that they're closed and they can come back in the morning (he's got a date with a telenovela). The rattling stops and he goes back to cleaning his equipment

The cup that he was holding falls to the ground with a clang that's completely drowned out by Stone's shriek as a hooded figure teleports beside him

Before Stone can react Shadow removes his hood, complaining about how long his ears will be hurting from that

At first Stone is excited, if Shadow survived then surely the doctor could have as well! Finally a sign that he could be alright

But alas, not everyone can come back like in a soap opera

After receiving the doctor’s message Stone walks over to a table and pulls out a chair, absentmindedly also pulling one out for his guest

He starts musing about how the Mean Bean is where he set up operations to wait for the doctor to return after his last ‘hedgehog induced sabbatical’ so it felt fitting for him to come back here to wait out this one

Shadow asks what he means by wait it out, the doctor is dead. Stone just chuckles and slowly shakes his head, telling Shadow he'd be surprised to hear all of the impossible things the doctor had lived through, this was just the latest

Shadow eventually takes the empty chair next to Stone. He knows that the doctor is dead, he’s sure that Stone knows this even if he wont admit it, but he also can’t help but envy him. The doctor didn’t die right in front of him, he didn’t see the body. Even if the odds are a million to one, there’s a single drop of hope in an ocean of despair, and Stone has refused to let it be swallowed by the sea. As long as there’s a chance of ‘what if’

After a time Stone thanks Shadow for bringing the message to him and gets up to make him a latte as thanks, Shadow lets him know he'd prefer it black

As he works on the coffee he asks Shadow what he's been up to the past two years, about all it boiled down to was him looking for Stone. With no leads, little knowledge about Earth, and a need to stay out of sight, things went far slower then he was happy with

Well, what are you gona do now?

What indeed. Eventually Shadow looks down at his hands and admits that he doesn’t know. He had been so driven by revenge and then by the need to fulfill Eggman's last request (almost as if it were the start of some sort of penitence) that he never really took the time to figure that out. Without a goal, he’s found himself bereft of purpose

Stone stops to take a good look at the lost kid sitting across from him, maybe the doctor had sent him more than just a message

He offers Shadow a job at the Mean Bean, saying that Green Hills is a nice enough town and that while he’s more than able to run the place on his own it can get busy, humble brag but he had the best Yelp reviews for miles for a reason. + maybe a delivery service is what he needs to get the edge over Cuppa Heaven

He tells Shadow that he can think on it if he wants and he's free to hang around until he makes up his mind

Shadow scoffs at him, he's been fine on his own he doesn't need anyone's pity

Stone hands over the coffee before picking up the forgotten cup on the floor, cleaning it again. He tells shadow it's not pity, just an offer from one former coworker to another. A temporary arrangement that could benefit them both while Shadow takes whatever time he needs to decide what his next step will be

Shadow stares into his coffee for a time, Stone cant tell if he's looking for life's answers or if it owes him money

Eventually Shadow drinks and looks to Stone with conviction, agreeing to his proposal. He vows to do his best to serve this place that is to be his temporary home and master the ‘art of the mean bean’

Stone laughs at how serious he is as he puts everything away. He says that they’re gona have to work on getting Shadow to loosen up a bit if he’s gona serve customers

Shadow tenses at that. Asking Stone what he means, surely he can’t suggest that Shadow will be interacting with humans

Stone points out that that’s kind of a big part of being a barista, is that a problem?

Looking to the side trying not to appear apprehensive (boy needs acting lessons), Shadow brings up the fact that he’s very clearly a 'dangerous alien' won’t the people be frightened of him?

It clicks for Stone what he means and he smiles, walking over to Shadow and placing a hand on his shoulder, motioning with his head for him to follow

He tells Shadow not to worry about that, Green Hills is the one place on Earth where a new alien hedgehog will only be the talk of the town for a week or so before the next farmers market drama takes over as peak gossip

After a beat Shadow registers exactly what Stone just said “wait, what do you mean a NEW alien hedgehog?!”

Grinning as he walks away, Stone activates the Mean Bean’s ‘back room’ walking forward while saying that they’ll do a quick tour of the lair and get Shadow settled in

Stone thinks to himself that instead of ending the day with eating his feelings away with a tub of ice cream while watching soap operas, it might be nicer to watch Gabriella's long lost niece backstab (possibly literally if the preview was right) Juan with a new friend. He should make guac. Celebration guac.

Staring

Shadow, the ultimate barista

(no first name given) Stone, a man who is unprepared to be a single father to a Hot Topic wannabe

Sonic, guy who's cool until he starts trying to flirt (or the guy who would be on every sports team if he went to school)

Miles 'Tails' Prower, the youngest fox to illegally attend MIT online

Knuckles, volunteer youth camp counselor

Tom Wachowski, promised he wasn't going to intimidate his son's new boyfriend (he lied, but he's only about 40% successful anyway)

Maddie Wachowski, mom of the year 5 years running

[enbyfvcker]

[Through the phone]

Wade Wilson x Logan (worst!wolverine)

Word count: 1,4k

Summary/prompt: Logan isn't used to this technology thing, but he lets Wade gift him a phone to make him happy. Turns out he finds rather... enticing ways to use his new phone when Wade's away on a job and he's feeling extra needy.

Tags: Smut, established relationship, sub/dom undertones, soft!dom Wade, masturbation, praise kink, phone sex, Logan likes being talked through it.

Wade liked to drag Logan along with him for shopping like he usually does after receiving from his mercenary jobs. He liked spoiling his little kitty cat and buying him stuff.

Logan would say 'no' at first, but then Wade would insist and insist, and well, he was mostly bored anyway, so he eventually gives in. When it comes to Wade, Logan usually gives in.

They were both in their civvies: Logan wearing denim pants, a wife pleaser, and a flannel. All his clothes were bought by Wade after he moved in. He apparently seemed to know what Logan likes or not.

Wade was wearing a hoodie and with the hood over his head. Logan noticed that the merc still wasn't fully in his comfort zone when he went out in public without his suit because of his appearance. But he seemed to deal better with it - with all the stares - when Logan was there by his side.

Wade was strolling around with the cart filled with things (variating from cleaning products, towels, food, unicorm plushies...) while Logan follows behind him, his hands in his pockets.

Wade comes to a stop when they pass over the eletronics session, looking at all the mobiles on display.

"Hey, peanut?"

"Hm."

"You don't really have a phone, do you? Wanna pick one?" Wade asks with a grin.

"Why?"

"Well, isn't it inconvenient?"

"Not really... I can't think of a situation where I would need one. And I'm also not really good with... Technology and stuff."

"Oh, okay..." Wade pouts like a hurt child, and Logan rolls his eyes.

"What?"

"Well, what if you miss me one day when I'm out for a job and wanna talk to me? You could also always text Laura to check up on her sometimes." Wade suggests and gives a dramatic sigh. "But well, if you don't want it..."

Logan considers for a moment and grunts lowly as he walks to the phones on display and tries to pick one. Wade watches with sparkling eyes and a grin.

He didn't really know the difference between the damn things. There were so many models, so he just chose a random one and placed it in the cart.

"There."

"Yay! Can't wait to introduce you to the technology world. You might wanna stay away from Ao3, though... there's some pretty nasty stuff in there. I mean, I love 'em, don't get me wrong. But I don't think you'd be pleased with what our fans fantasize about us."

"The fuck are you talking about?" Logan asks with an raised eyebrow. He was used to Wade saying weird shit like that. Honestly, he should just stop trying to understand the guy.

"Nothing, princess! Let's check out, shall we?"

...

It took some teaching from Wade for Logan to understand how to use his new phone. He didn't really use it much, though. But Wade was right. It was nice being able to talk to Laura and hear about how she's doing more often. They would meet and hang out every couple week, but her life seemed pretty busy after she started college. So now they could always call each other to catch up.

Wade was also right about... Well, the other part.

Usually, Logan would come along with Wade to help with any missions, but sometimes Wade would just go alone.

It was dark outside already, and it has been some hours since Wade wasn't home. Times like that, when he’s bored and lonely, he craves a drink more than anything. It was really damn hard trying to stay sober.

He walks to Wade's room and lies on his stomach on the bed, grunting with a soft rumble on his chest.

He missed Wade.

God, he can't believe it.

The apartment was finally silent for once, and he missed Wade's stupid voice.

He feels ridiculous.

Logan sniffs on the pillows, smelling Wade's scent. He smelled like gun powder and strawberry lotion. He feels his cock harden at the scent and he groans with frustration, his cheeks a soft blush and his eyebrows furrowed. His fists clenches as he starts to rut slowly against he matress, feeling completely pathetic.

It wasn't enough.

He takes his phone from his pocket and turns on his back, dialing the third contact from alphabetic order from his list.

He only has 3:

Althea

Laura

Wade

It rings and rings, and Logan almost just cancels the call, but then he hears Wade's voice.

"Hi, peanut. Missing me already? I do, too, honey- Motherfucker! Have some manners, can't you see I'm on the phone!" Wade grunts in pain over the line after apparently taking a couple shots.

"Is this not a good time?" Logan asks with a low voice, his hand moving down his own abdomen.

"No, no, baby girl. I always have time for you." Logan feels his cock twitching at Wade's words, his breathing getting more elaborated. He could hear Wade grunting, probably in the middle of a fight. "Don't worry, as I soon as I wrap this up, I'm coming home to you, kitten."

Logan usually scowl and reprimanded Wade at the pet names he usually uses, but Wade could hear softs gasps over the line so quietly he almost misses it, and if he had any eyebrows, they'd be raised.

"Don't take long." Logan whispers, his voice hoarse as he palms himself over his boxers.

"What are you doing?" Wade asks with a clear grin on his voice, and Logan hears a few shotguns and screams.

"Talking to you." Logan replies bluntly. He couldn't help but let out a soft moan when he slipped his hand under his underwear to touch himself properly. He gives a couple slow strokes, biting his lip strongly enough to draw blood.

"Nothing more?"

"No..."

"Oh, my little honey badger, you're a terrible liar." Wade accuses, making Logan's cheeks flush harder. "Are you that needy, hm? Kitty can't wait for me to get home?"

Wade doesn't receive a response, only desperate whimpers that were clearly escaping through bitten lips. He runs his katana through a couple of criminals and chuckles to himself.

"So cute, princess. You just needed to hear my voice, didn't you? I bet you must be dripping all over my bed right now. Bad boy... Gotta train you to learn and wait for me."

"Wade..." Logan grunts, his hand moving faster at a steady rhythm, his eyed shut tightly as he imagines it is Wade's scarred hands on him. He rubs his thumb over his tip and whines.

"It's okay, baby. I'll let it slide this time. Be a good kitty and make yourself feel good, yes? You sound so pretty."

Logan moans louder at the praise, his cock twitching and leaking pre cum into his fingers. He starts rutting his hips up, fucking his fist at a desperate pace.

"Keep talking..." Logan half begs half commands, making Wade smirk under his mask as he dodges from a chair that hit the wall behind him.

"You know, for someone who's always telling me to shut up, you sure sound quite desperate for it right now. I know you love it, kitten, even if you won't admit it. I know you love hearing me say how good you are for me, how pretty you look when you're all messy and pliant under me, how much of a good fucking boy you are..."

Logan straight up whimpers.

"Are you gonna be a good boy for me and make a mess all over yourself, baby?"

"Wannabegood, wannabegood, wannabegood..." Logan babbles between needy moans, and Wade knew he was close.

"I know you do, princess." Wade shots the last one of the criminals and they drop dead to the floor along with the others. "Cum for me."

"Wade, fuck-!" He whines as he spills all over his fist and stomach, his back arching off the bed. He strokes himself through the aftershocks, his moans turning into heavy pants as he catches his breath. He feels a rush of embarrassment as his mind clears off, but then he hears Wade praising him.

"Good kitty. Alright, I'm done here." Wade says as he looks to all the bodies around him. "I'm coming home, darling! I have a boner the size of a lighthouse right now. It's really hard focusing on fighting like this."

Logan chuckles, his breathing still heavy. "Just come home already."

[bubbipond]

Fadel and Bison are definitively each other’s biggest support systems and protectors, while also being each other’s biggest downfalls and obstacles. See the thing is both have things they want to do in life, but they also both know that they can’t because of the other. The biggest issue that they both have is the lack of communication. They communicate perfectly when it comes to their job or when it comes to moving around. But when it comes to personal things, that’s where they fall flat. Which I would argue is far more important to communicate about than work because their lack of communication is why they are stuck in their current situation.

Fadel is stuck in a never-ending routine of having to restart because of Bison’s emotions. While Bison is consistently playing dumb and keeping them both safe even when Fadel can’t. But the thing is, both are doing it without the knowledge of the other and without really talking to the other. Fadel definitively believes Bison is incapable of making sound decisions. While Bison definitively believes that Fadel is an unmovable (physically and emotionally) obstacle for them both. But neither would ever leave the other and that is very important to the story. Fadel can’t just leave Bison because he does not see him as someone who can take care of himself. Bison can’t just leave Fadel because as we have seen, Fadel is easier to manipulate than Bison. Their need to keep each other safe and to make sure their last familiar bonds stay intact, make it impossible to move away from their current circumstance. I’m not saying this is a bad thing or that their relationship is toxic. But the problem with codependency is that when you get to a place where you want to break away, you almost always fall short. Whether it is through an outside source or through your feeling for the other person. Almost everything Fadel and Bison do is to protect the other. Fadel would absolutely die if it meant saving Bison and Bison would absolutely die if it meant saving Fadel. Even when it comes to Kant and Style we see that neither brother (no matter how much love they feel) will break from the other even if come next week, they have deferring feelings about this new information.

It’s also very important for “Mom’s” cause, them being so codependent. With that level of dependency, she only truly needs to manipulate one for the other to stay. They will absolutely never leave without each other. If Fadel needs to stay, Bison will stay too. If Bison needs to stay, Fadel will stay too. Even when they start to dream about a new life and a more normal life that life is still definitively just the two of them. Which obviously has a lot to do with their line of work, but, if their line of work changes and is no longer dangerous, they shouldn’t have to keep people out. The problem that stands with that is that they both dream of having other people and living normal lives but they don’t know what that means in terms of each other. Bison enlisted Kant to find someone for Fadel but he never intended to actually leave Fadel (and by leave I don’t mean never speak to again just not be so attached at the hip). While even in Fadel’s perfect scenario with Style, there was never a point where Bison was not also a major factor. Style and Kant are probably the first time in their lives since their parents died that they had something apart from the other. But even then, they are literally dating best friends. Until one or both of them realize that they can still be brothers and family without being detrimental to the other, they won’t be able to move on. Even when/if they get away from their current life.

[scary-grace]

if my heart was a house (chapter 2) - a shigaraki x f!reader fic

It's been nineteen years since Tomura was sentenced to death, and you've built a life in the space he left behind, braced each day for the worst. You're prepared for everything - the questions your daughter asks, the memories that sting a little more in the winter, the specter of the news you've been afraid of for years. But of all the things life's thrown your way, it's the one you haven't dared to hope for might be the one thing you can't handle. (cross-posted to Ao3) The prequel can be found here: what I can't remember nowwritten for @pixelcafe-network's Challenge Friday event! Banner/divider by @cafekitsune

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

It’s freezing when you step out of the community center, and only the fact that Chihiro’s waiting for you to pick her up at school prevents you from going right back in and borrowing a scarf and gloves from the bin of spares. You knew you should have dressed more warmly, but you didn’t realize there’d be so much wind. By the time you make to the car, your teeth are chattering, and the car always takes longer to warm up than you want it to. You moved to Hokkaido nineteen years ago because it was the last place anyone would look for you, and no one’s found you yet. You just wish the price of privacy didn’t include freezing your ass off in the moonless polar night.

You think Chihiro worries about you a little less lately. You’ve gone to a month of pottery classes, and you make sure to respond to messages in the PTA moms’ group text every so often, and once when Kaori’s crazy mom asked you to get tea, you agreed. You left that conversation feeling like you’d been through a tornado, but the important thing is that you’re trying. That Chihiro sees you trying. That when she moves away for school, her worry for you won’t hold her back.

Her comment about you not having friends hit a little too close to home, and it’s still hanging around in your head. You used to have friends — Tomura’s friends, and some of your own. You loved them. You know they loved you. Half the reason you survived Tomura’s arrest and trial was because they were with you, suffering the same way, helpless to stop anything that was happening and trying all the same. Knowing all of that, it makes even less sense that you ran from them afterward.

But that’s always been who you are. When you’re hurt, when you’re scared, when you’re sad, you pull back from the world. You don’t like having your feelings where other people could see, and if you didn’t like having your feelings in front of anybody, there was no way you were having your baby in front of Tomura’s friends. You weren’t interested in how they felt about it. You didn’t want to hear what they’d say. And you didn’t want them involved, constantly circling, reminding you of everything you lost. Reminding your baby, once they were old enough to understand. Your new new job (you lost the first new one), your apartment, your friends, your city — it all started to feel like a prison. You could run, so you did.

Lately, though, you’ve been thinking about them. Enough to look them up and see that Toga’s a fairly well-known costume designer, and wish you could talk sewing with her; find out that Dabi’s doing okay, when you’d been worried ever since you met him that he’d wind up in prison; learn that Spinner’s a writer with a popular series of detective novels, famous for mercilessly skewering the police over their incompetence and corruption. You’ve thought about reaching out, seeing if they know anything about Tomura’s situation, if they’ve heard anything from him. Then you decided it wasn’t worth it. You don’t want to find out that he’s spent nineteen years talking to them and not to you.

Your car finally warms up. You take a deep breath, shove the thought of your old friends away, and drive.

Someone’s car spun out on the route you planned to take to the high school, and you call Chihiro to let her know you’ll be a little late. She doesn’t answer, but she probably just busy. The choir director is kind of a hardass, but Chihiro worships the ground she walks on, and she’d never interrupt a rehearsal for something like a call from her probably-clingy mom. You are a little clingy. You just don’t ever want her to wonder where you are. To spend even a second doubting that you’ll be there when she needs you.

You get to the school, park, and switch idly between channels on the radio, skipping away whenever you hear a snatch of the news. The choir kids trickle out of school slowly, talking through chattering teeth, and scatter to their parents’ cars. You watch for Chihiro, knowing that she stays late to talk to the choir director sometimes. But then the lights in the music room go out. The choir director steps out, locking the door behind her, and fear like you’ve never experienced in your life floods through you.

It feels like acid in your veins. You lurch out of your car and get in the director’s way as she heads for hers. “Where’s Chihiro?”

“She left at the break,” the director says. “Typically I don’t allow it, but she’s an excellent student and she’s never asked before —”

Chihiro left. Chihiro left school an hour ago. You can barely speak. “What happened? Did she get sick? Why didn’t you call me —”

“She said she would,” the director says, bewildered. “She didn’t?”

“If she’d called me, I’d have picked her up already.” Your voice stutters, fractures. “What happened?”

“She and her friends were discussing something. A news article, I think. I doubt that’s what caused it.” The director is frowning now, disconcerted to your terrified. “When we resumed practice, she was distraught, and asked to be excused early.”

Distraught. You’ve never heard anybody use that word to describe your daughter. “Did she say why?”

“She needed to go home. She said it was a family emergency.”

A family emergency? You’re her family. Your parents passed away when she was in middle school and you and your brother haven’t spoken in years. What family is she talking about? You don’t need that answer right now. You need to find her. “Thank you,” you choke out, and run back to your car.

You and she live five miles outside of town — on a big road that gets plowed and salted, sure, but still outside of town. Could she walk all the way home in an hour? You don’t think so. Not in this weather. And you can’t think of anywhere else she would go. You drive slowly, carefully along the road, your heart rising into your throat at each bend in the road and sinking when the stretch of road ahead of you continues to be empty. Your mind twists in agony. A family emergency. What does that even mean? It crosses your mind that it’s the perfect excuse, one no teacher would ever refuse a student like Chihiro — but why wouldn’t she call you? Why would she start walking home in the dark? What is there that she thinks she can’t bring to you, that you wouldn’t help her with? You’d do anything for her. You just have to find her, and you’ll figure it out.

You catch up to her halfway home, her hands jammed into her pockets and her shoulders hunched against the cold, her breath billowing out in a frozen cloud. The relief of finding her lasts for only a second. Now you need to get her home. You flip on your hazard lights and slow to a crawl alongside her, rolling down your window. “Chihiro, get in the car!”

She doesn’t answer. Doesn’t even look your way. “I’m so glad I found you, but I don’t understand,” you say. “You must be freezing. Why didn’t you call me? I was so scared –”

You’re making this about you. It’s not about you. “Chihiro, please get in the car. I just want you to be safe. I love you —”

“Shut up!” She wheels on you, and you hit the brakes, more in shock than anything else. Your daughter’s eyes are swollen and bloodshot with tears, and her lips are cracked and bleeding in the cold. Her mouth is turned down like you haven’t seen it in more than a decade, but her eyes are hot with rage. “Don’t come near me. Don’t even talk to me. I didn’t call you because I hate you. I hate you! How could you do that to me?”

“Do what?” you ask.

“Lie,” Chihiro spits, or sobs. “How long were you going to lie to me, Mom? Were you ever going to tell me the truth about my dad?”

Your stomach drops. How did she find out? How many people know? “I never lied,” you say. “I never told you he was dead. I always told you —”

“He’s gone.” Chihiro’s nose is dripping. She looks frozen. “Don’t play that stupid game. You knew what I thought you meant when you say that, and you just let me think — you were always going to let me think he was —”

“How did you find out?”

“That’s all you care about? I hate you —”

Right now, you hate yourself, too. It hurts to hear Chihiro say that, hurts to know she’s so angry with you that she’d rather freeze than spend even a second in the car with you — but your feelings don’t matter right now. They stopped mattering nineteen years ago. This is about your daughter. You shove your feelings to one side. “You hate me,” you repeat, and she scoffs. “You can hate me just as much in the car as you can out there, and the car is warm.”

Chihiro squints at you as she wipes her eyes. “It’s not that far. I can walk.”

“Yeah. But it’ll take you another hour, and it’ll just keep getting colder.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “I won’t try to talk to you. In the car or when we’re home. Just — please, get in the car, Chihiro. You don’t have to hurt yourself to let me know you’re angry.”

“I’m not angry, Mom. This is way beyond angry.” Chihiro takes a deep breath and coughs on the cold air. “If you try to talk to me, I’m getting out again.”

You don’t deserve to feel relieved, but you do. You put the car in park and unlock the passenger-side door. “Okay.”

The drive home is awful, but at least it’s brief. The first thing Chihiro does after taking off her shoes and coat is head straight for the bathroom. The water switches on in the shower, and you’ll bet it’s scalding hot. She must be so cold. And so angry with you, angry enough to override her better judgment and drive her out onto the road alone. Is she right about you? Were you ever going to tell her the truth about Tomura? You don’t know. But you should have seen this coming, somehow. You could have seen it coming, would have, if you were doing anything but hiding from your own pain. Of course Chihiro’s furious with you. You deserve it.

Deserving it doesn’t make it hurt any less, so like always, you find something to keep you busy. You set out clean pajamas for Chihiro on her bed. Then you finish folding the laundry, emptying the dishwasher, folding the quilts that are still strewn across the couch from Chihiro’s movie night with Kaori over the weekend. After that it’s time to sew, and even with the focus paper-piecing takes and the noise of the sewing machine, you can’t shut out a single question: How did she find out?

The water in the shower shuts off. You hear Chihiro’s footsteps in the hallway, then the sound of her bedroom door shutting. Shutting, not slamming. You abandon your sewing machine, planning to go to your bedroom and stay there, leaving her the kitchen and the living room and not coming out until she goes to sleep. You don’t want her to have to look at you. Or maybe you just don’t want to see how she looks at you now.

The thought stops you at the threshold. You’ve made everything about what’s happened into something about you. Who are you helping by going to hide? Yourself. You’re protecting yourself from your daughter’s anger, which she deserves to express, and from the questions she probably wants to ask, which you should have answered a long time ago. You can’t hide. You need to stay here and be the person — the parent — you should have been all along. Even if it’s too late.

You hear the bedroom door open, but you don’t turn, and Chihiro comes closer with soft footsteps. She stops at the edge of the kitchen. “What are you doing?”

“Making hot chocolate. Do you want some?”

“You’re being weird,” Chihiro says. She sounds unnerved. “I told you I hate you. Why aren’t you yelling? You’re not even crying. Do you even care?”

Your heart breaks a little bit, even as a surge of frustration rocks you. “It hurts to hear you say that,” you admit. No more lying. From here on out, you tell the truth. “But I don’t think it hurts as much as finding out your mom’s been lying to you for eighteen years.”

Chihiro’s quiet. She’s quiet, and you’re not trying to downplay what you did or run away from it, so you ask a question of your own. “How did you find out?”

The electric kettle goes off with a click. “The water’s done,” Chihiro says. “Are you making hot chocolate or not?”

She reminds you so much of Tomura — that same bluntness, that same impatience, that same affinity for cutting the knot. “Yeah. And some for you.”

Once you’ve both got your cups, you head to the living room. Chihiro unfolds all the blankets you folded earlier and burrows into them, and you sit in the armchair and pull your feet up and away from the floor. She watches you over the rim of her cup. “It’s weird when you do that,” she says. “It makes you look really young.”

It’s quiet for a second. “I guess you are kind of young. They said in school that most people don’t have kids until they’re thirty, and you were only twenty-two when you had me.”

“Yeah,” you say. “Four years older than you.”

It sounds wrong when you say it. Too young. Way too young. Chihiro looks unsettled. “I wouldn’t have a kid when I was twenty-two,” she says. “Why did you?”

You take a sip of hot chocolate, trying to calm your nerves. “I’ll tell you that and everything else. I want to know how you found out first.”

Chihiro’s eyes narrow, but to your surprise, she answers. “Takako at school — she watches that true-crime show. The one you don’t let me watch.”

“I never said you couldn’t watch it. I just said not on the TV out here,” you say. Chihiro rolls her eyes. “Your computer in your room is fair game.”

“My computer doesn’t get cable.”

“So pirate it,” you say with a shrug, and Chihiro nearly chokes on her next sip of hot chocolate. “I never said you couldn’t watch it at all.”

“Yeah. Like you never actually said my dad was dead,” Chihiro says. Ouch. “Do you want me to tell you or what? She watches that show, and you’re not the only mom who’s weird about it, so she tells us all about the episodes when they come out. I guess this week’s episode was about this guy Shigaraki Tomura who killed his whole family, and how he’s been on death row longer than anybody else in Japan. So we looked him up to see if he’s still alive — I guess the episodes get made in advance — and there were pictures of him at his trial. He has the same birthmark I do.”

You nod. “And the same eyes. Ever since you were a baby.”

Chihiro looks down into her cup. “One of my friends joked about it. I thought it was funny, so I laughed. But then I was thinking about it, and the — timing, I guess. And I realized you never said he was dead. My whole life, that was what I thought, but it wasn’t what you said.”

She takes another sip of hot chocolate. “I was looking at the pictures. From the trial, and you were in them. Your hair looked different, but I knew it was you. And I guess I — there was this one picture. From his sentencing. You’re holding his hands.”

You hadn’t realized someone snapped a photo, but you should have known. Your fingers still ache from the memory. Chihiro looks up, her eyes glassy again. “It’s him, isn’t it? My dad’s Shigaraki Tomura.”

“That’s him,” you say. You can’t call your voice steady. Flat might be better. “What do you want to know?”

“Why,” Chihiro says at once. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“There were a lot of reasons,” you say. “I think my main one was trying to protect you.”

“From him?”

“No,” you say. “From everybody else. I don’t know if you read any of the articles about the trial, but the way they talked about him — and about me — was awful. People treated me differently, and I was just his girlfriend. I didn’t want anybody to do anything to you because of who your father was.”

“I got in fights anyway. Because I didn’t have a dad.” Chihiro’s voice is dull. “Maybe if they’d known who he was it would have been different.”

“Maybe.” You take a sip of your own hot chocolate, even though it’s getting hard to swallow. “That was part of it. Part of it was that I didn’t want you to grow up with that hanging over your head. Knowing that your dad was on death row and not even being able to visit him.”

“You said he didn’t know about me. Was that a lie, too?”

“I tried to tell him,” you say. “I called, and wrote letters, and tried to visit — he never wanted to see me. And he never answered.”

Your voice wavers slightly. You don’t try to fight it. Fighting it makes it worse. “I wanted to. He wouldn’t let me.”

Chihiro looks disturbed. “So that picture —”

“That’s the last time I saw him,” you say, and Chihiro’s expression collapses. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry about that.” Chihiro lets go of her cup to wipe her eyes. “Why else didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I was selfish,” you say. It hurts to admit it, to admit that what you swore you were doing for Chihiro’s own good was for you all along. But you have to be honest. You’ve lied to her, by omission or on purpose, enough for a lifetime. “I didn’t want to think about what happened. Any of it. And if you didn’t know — if nobody knew — then I wouldn’t have to talk about it ever again.”

Chihiro wipes her eyes a second time. You keep talking, your throat aching more in every word. “I didn’t wake up one morning and decide not to tell you about Tomura. It just happened —”

“And kept happening. For eighteen years.”

She’s not going to let you get away with anything. The fact that you know she shouldn’t doesn’t make it any less frustrating. “Yeah. Eighteen years. I did it because it would make things easier, for me. Because it wouldn’t hurt as much, for me. I was thinking a lot about me and I should have been thinking about you.”

Chihiro looks away. “Do you think he did it?”

“Chihiro —”

“He confessed,” Chihiro says. “He said he did it.”

Yeah, Tomura confessed. They interrogated him for twenty days straight before they got anything out of him, and when you came to visit him again before the trial, he looked like something had broken inside of him. He seemed out of it, too. He barely recognized you, barely knew you were there. You don’t know what they did to him in there, but you trust that confession even less than you trust the testimony his adoptive father gave. “He confessed,” Chihiro repeats, her voice rising. She fumbles her phone out of her pocket, unlocks it one-handed. “Do you think he did it?”

She’s looking something up. You remember all at once how Chihiro stumbled on him in the first place. “Did they execute him? Chihiro, tell me —”

“Do you think he did it?” she demands, and you shake your head. You were there at the trial. Every day. You never saw anything that made you believe he was guilty. Chihiro squeezes her eyes shut and holds out her phone towards you. “You were right.”

Some part of you registers what she just said, but it doesn’t stick. It bounces off the surface and vanishes, because Chihiro has a news site open, with a bright red BREAKING NEWS banner across the top. SHIGARAKI TOMURA EXONERATED AFTER NINETEEN YEARS ON DEATH ROW.

You spend one wild second panicking at the sight of an “ex” word in the same sentence as Tomura’s name and “death row”, but then you force yourself to go back. Exonerated. Not executed, exonerated. You lift the phone out of Chihiro’s hands and she lets you take it — with a caveat. “Read it out loud, okay? So I know we both saw the same thing.”

You start reading, your voice rattling. “In a time of rising crime, escalating drug trafficking, and a loss of trust in our institutions, the accused mass murderer Shigaraki Tomura became the avatar for Japan’s worst nightmares: A remorseless killer, hiding amongst the innocent, ready to strike at any time. Those who questioned the scant evidence the prosecutor provided were ridiculed. Those who believed that his confession to the murders of his parents, his grandparents, and his older sister was the product of coercion were reviled. Nineteen years later, they and the man they spoke up for have seen justice served.”

Your eyes are burning. You blink back tears and keep reading. “In a stunning but well-reasoned decision released on Monday afternoon, the Supreme Court reversed all seven murder convictions against Shigaraki Tomura in light of new evidence uncovered in the course of an entirely different investigation. Midoriya Izuku, a prosecutor turned human-rights advocate, became interested in Shigaraki’s case while working to restore another inmate’s right to visits from his adoptive father — fuck!”

Chihiro looks up. “Huh?”

“Sorry. It’s just — he called me,” you say. “Midoriya Izuku. He’s been calling. I didn’t know why.”

“It’s weird when you swear,” Chihiro notes. You mumble an apology. “Keep reading.”

“Upon reviewing the available evidence and pursuing new investigations, Midoriya made a motion for a retrial, which was granted by the Supreme Court and conducted under terms of absolute secrecy in order to avoid the media circus that ensued during Shigaraki’s original trial. The Court has agreed to release all documents related to Shigaraki’s case and is expected to do so within the next twenty-four hours. Some sources have indicated that a different suspect in the Shimura family’s murders has already been taken into custody, but no official confirmation has been received.”

Your hands are shaking now, so hard you almost drop Chihiro’s phone in your cup of hot chocolate. “Mom?” Chihiro says, and you look up, blinking hard. “Do you know who they arrested?”

Your first inclination is to ask why she thinks you of all people would know, but you clamp down on that. Even though the world’s just been yanked out from beneath your feet, your daughter is still the injured party. And when you think about it, you do have some idea of who it is. “His adoptive dad. He was the one who had custody of Tomura when the murders happened, and he was really excited to cooperate with the investigation.”

“Custody?” Chihiro repeats. “How old was he when he — when they died?”

“Fifteen,” you say. “If you’re older than fourteen when you commit a crime, they can try you as an adult.”

“You think his fake dad set him up,” Chihiro says. You nod. “Is there more to read?”

“A little bit.”

Chihiro scoots over on the couch, making a space, and you sit down next to her. She has to wake up her phone again for you to keep reading, and you get the jumpscare of SHIGARAKI TOMURA EX- a second time before scrolling down to where you left off. “Although a release date has not been announced publicly, it is the view of this magazine that Shigaraki should be released from prison as quickly as possible. He has paid a debt to society that was never owed in the first place. When Shigaraki Tomura is released from Fuchu Prison, he will walk out a free man. Society’s atonement for the crime it committed against him is only beginning.”

You glance at the byline out of habit. This article was written by Kizuki Chitose, and if you remember right, the last article she wrote about Tomura struck a pretty different note. She’d better start atoning right now. You’d be happy to help. Balling up every single scathing editorial and hit job she wrote and jamming them down her throat feels like it would be a good start.

“It’s real,” Chihiro says. You nod. “He’s getting out.”

You nod again. You’re with Kizuki on wanting Tomura to be released as quickly as possible. You’re just not sure what happens next.

Chihiro’s thinking along the same lines. “Mom, what are we going to do?”

“We’ll figure it out,” you promise her. She leans in against your side, and some horrible part of you exults. With the chaos that’s about to unfold, Chihiro can’t afford to hate you any longer — or if you stop thinking about it like an asshole, she doesn’t know what’s going to happen and you’re the person she turns to. It doesn’t matter that you don’t know any more than she does. You’re the adult, but something happened to you when you read that headline. Somehow it feels like no time has passed at all; like he was just torn away from you, like you’re a lonely, hopeless twenty-two-year-old with a baby on the way all over again.

But you aren’t. You made it this far. Your baby turned eighteen this year, and you managed to raise her close enough to right. “We’ll figure it out,” you promise her again. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you before.”

“Maybe you were right,” Chihiro mumbles. “It would have been harder if I knew all this time.”

You think so. It’s still not an excuse. You wrap your arm around your daughter’s shoulders and hug her closer, relieved beyond words when she doesn’t pull away. You’ll take care of her first — make sure she eats, make sure she gets some sleep, because you know from experience how much harder everything becomes without it. And after she’s fallen asleep, you’ll finally return Midoriya Izuku’s calls.

<- Chapter 1

[thisfeelslike-iykyk]

love languages ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

sw boys x reader (ft. luke skywalker, han solo, anakin skywalker, obi-wan kenobi, poe dameron, din djarin) backtrack: “rewrite the stars”, zac efron + zendaya inspiration: this is part three of my little series (pjo version here and hp version here)

luke skywalker

giving: words of affirmation / acts of service

the problem with luke is that he changes, see. in a new hope he’s bright eyed and bushy tailed. by return of the jedi the poor dude has seen some stuff. in a new hope though, his giving love language is totally words of affirmation. he called leia beautiful, and while it’s kind of weird to think about because they’re, uh, brother and sister, it was still sweet. another love language for luke--in both a new hope and return of the jedi--is definitely acts of service. in episodes four and five, it’d be in a naive, following you around like a lost puppy kind of way. he’d jump at the opportunity to do anything for you, you’re literally his goddess, say the word “water” and he’ll be sprinting to get a glass of it for you. in return of the jedi though, he likes to do things for his partner in a more mature, protective way. he’d place more importance on making sure you’re safe, and he deems himself your protector until his dying breath. a runner up for return of the jedi luke would be quality time. he and his friends have been through war, and he knows how dangerous jedi life is. so he treasures every quiet moment he can have with his loved ones.

receiving: physical touch

LOOK HOW FLUSTERED MY BOY WAS WHEN LEIA KISSED HIM (never mind that it was mildly concerning given they’re siblings!). luke absolutely melts for physical touch, moreso in episodes four and five but in six as well. his face will get bright red, he’ll start stuttering, my man does not hide it well. his friends, especially han, will tease the f-- out of him. he’ll deny it vehemently, but he’d get on his knees for you if you so much as touch his shoulder. he likes every sort of physical touch, it doesn’t have to be kisses. he’ll be bursting with joy even when you’re just linking pinkies during meetings; he’ll be constantly bouncing in his seat and will absolutely not be able to pay attention. also he definitely clings onto you while you’re sleeping like you’re a stuffed animal.

han solo

giving: gift giving

legitimately, I think sometimes when han smuggles physical materials, he’ll pick the best thing and steal it from the cargo and just give it to his partner. han’s not rich, but he wants his partner to have the best things in life, especially since he doesn’t think he can offer much else (except for his dashing good looks, of course). does it sometimes get him in trouble when his bosses notice that the biggest diamond is missing from the cargo? yeah. does he care? nope.

receiving: quality time

han’s constantly on the move with his job. he doesn’t have time to relax, since he’s often looking over his shoulder for bounty hunters. when he has free time, he’d love to play a relaxed game on the falcon with his partner. his favorite is the one with the holograms that c3po and r2d2 play versus chewbacca. he usually doesn’t go all out because he’s usually playing against chewbacca, and they’re good buddies but han doesn’t really want to find out what would happen if he won against the wookiee. but against his partner? oh he’s going all out. he’s not a gentleman. he’ll absolutely obliterate you and laugh about it. it’s kind of charming though.

anakin skywalker

giving: words of affirmation

okay, mister “are you an angel?”. mister “you are so beautiful”. mister “I’m haunted by the kiss you never should have given me”, even though that line was kind of awkward coming from nineteen year old anakin. I don’t know how he can be so terribly unarticulate, but at the same time the most romantic smooth talker in the whole star wars universe. I just know he’ll be showering his partner with all sorts of lovely, poetic compliments. he’s a charmer, he’ll swipe you right off your feet with his words.

receiving: physical touch

like father, like son, I guess. without a doubt, anakin’s also a physical touch guy (partly because I want him to be, but also because I genuinely think so). the poor dude’s had a rough childhood, so he’s starved of love. and most importantly, he’s touch starved. show him some love, please. hugs, kisses, cuddles, holding hands, anything of the sort. he’ll constantly whine if he can’t be physically affectionate with you, even though you both know it’s because you’re trying to keep your relationship a secret. he’s also a big cuddler and would 100% be a hidden little spoon, although he’ll be kind of embarrassed about it. when you put a hand on his cheek, he’ll immediately lean into your touch. also, I just have this thought that he’d love it when you ruffle or play with his hair. please do it. he’ll even bend down so you can reach his hair if there’s a big height difference between you two. but also, I feel like I can’t gloss over the fact that anakin is in serious need of some words of affirmation. he never gets it, even though he’s done so much for the jedi order. please tell him you love him and he’s awesome. he’ll melt.

obi-wan kenobi

giving: acts of service

I mean, do I really have to explain? obi-wan would be the perfect boyfriend. he’s an absolute gentleman. he’d be the best at princess treatment, always making sure you never have to lift a finger. however, some people are not into being babied or taken care of to that extent, and obi-wan knows that. he’d completely respect his partner’s independence and competence to do things for themselves, but he’d love to just take care of his partner as well. mostly, he wants to make sure his partner is protected and safe at all times, similar to return of the jedi luke.

receiving: quality time

obi-wan’s literally dedicated his life to the jedi order. not much is known about his childhood, but it’s safe to assume he started training really young (much younger than nine, at least, since anakin was deemed to be too old at that age, which is ridiculous) and for a really long period of time. he’s been so busy with training anakin and trying to keep up with him that he doesn’t have a lot of time to rest. so when he does have downtime, he’d want to spend it with his partner trying to form a deeper emotional bond. because really, obi-wan would definitely prioritize an emotional connection with his partner, and you can’t really make that happen when you’re fighting for your lives every day. I think he’d want to either change the jedi’s practices or leave the order because he’d want to spend time with his partner and be like an actual family (ahem ahem “had you asked, I would have left the order for you”). although I also think he’s touch starved and would get easily flustered by physical touches.

poe dameron

giving: words of affirmation

poe’s a charismatic guy, kind of a charmer. he’s brash and abrasive when he’s mad, but he’s generally quite the relaxed (as relaxed as you can be when you’re fighting for your life every day, I guess), cheeky guy. you know he has a few good pickup lines in his back pocket. he pulls them out any time he wants to charm someone. half of the time it’s because he’s doing it as a joke, but other times he genuinely tries to be slick with it (heads up, he’s not). something also tells me he’d like giving gifts to his partner too, to spoil them rotten (even though I can’t imagine he has that much money, sorry poe).

receiving: physical touch

why was I kind of at a loss for this one? I guess poe is just pretty touch starved too, it’s not like he has a partner in the movies and he’s under a lot of stress every day with the resistance. I feel like he’d lowkey get migraines or muscle pain pretty often, and he’d literally melt if you gave him a massage. he just likes being close to his partner, although he’d probably let slip a dirty joke every now and then. he’ll definitely tease you if you get flustered about it, but a little slap from you and he’ll shut up.

din djarin

giving: acts of service

acts of service is basically the thing that defines din’s life, lol. he’s catching bounties for people, he’s helping npcs with their side quests (what? who said that?), and just look at how much he cared for grogu and how dedicated he was to the cutie. he literally gave up the dream life with omera for grogu. for his partner, he’d go to the ends of the galaxy. he would risk his life. he’d sacrifice his life. it takes him a while to warm up to people--he’s a slow burn romance trope, don’t even mess with me on that--but once he’s found his soulmate, he’ll give his heart, mind, body, and soul to you. he’s at your service, completely.

receiving: quality time

din’s life is constantly changing. people come and go as he floats through space, taking jobs and completing them. he really appreciates those quiet nights on his ship with his partner. it’s just the two of you floating through space, and he can almost forget his busy life and just focus on you. I think he wishes he could have a slower, peaceful life. look how happy he was with omera on that one planet that I forget the name of. he was literally so tempted to stay, and I think he definitely would have if it weren’t for grogu. similar to obi-wan, though, he’s touch starved, so he’d appreciate a little physical touch every now and then as well. nothing huge, especially in the beginning, but just simple hugs and holding hands in private.

for this post I added in han because I can’t believe I forgot him in my last sw post. this is also unedited because I'm tired and I spent like two hours writing this

divider by @saradika-graphics

taglist: @loveinalocket, @raysmayhem-72, @toooster, @soft-likethesunset, @sheisntyou

[schrijverr]

I Mean, You Love Him, Don’t You?

Divergence from chapter 31, where Shannon sees the bombing on TV and immediately realizes (or thinks she does) what is happening; what has happened without her there. However, upon arriving at the hospital, she realizes it’s a little more complicated than that.

On AO3.

Ships: Buddie

Warnings: injury, referenced emotionally abusive parenting

~~~

Shannon is at home by herself when she sees the news. Ever since fleeing El Paso and the death of her mother, she’s been working on herself. She’s going to community college at night and has a pretty okay job as receptionist.

The dating game is something she’s been out of and she only has a few friends, but she tells herself that she isn’t lonely. That she’s doing okay.

Though, maybe sitting alone on her couch and mindlessly watching TV isn’t the best way of proving that to herself.

However, it works in her favor, because otherwise she wouldn’t have seen the breaking news segment interrupting the game show she was starting to find annoying. The bomber that’s been terrorizing LA blew up a firetruck and is holding a bunch of firefighters hostage.

“If you’re just joining us, witnesses are reporting that this LAFD ladder truck, belonging to station house 118, was hit by some kind of an explosive as it was making its way to a call. Now, you can see there’s a firefighter pinned under that truck.”

The camera pans and Shannon drops her tea cup as she gasps: “Evan?”

She thought of Evan from time to time after she left, the boy that she couldn’t love that she used as an escape from the boy that couldn’t love her. She wondered what happened to him, after she left Chris with him, a thing she still feels guilt about. Wondered where he went after. What job he worked. If he got out of there like she did.

To see him after all these years and in these circumstances is shocking. He did get out. He’s been in the very same city as her. He has a different job now, probably a whole new life. And he’s being held hostage!

Her hands start shaking and she starts reaching around, as if there is something she needs to grab or do that will change the situation. But she can’t. She’s sitting on her couch and he is on an intersection somewhere pinned by truck and some jackass with a bomb.

On the screen, you can see some commotion to the side, before someone is running. The journalist reports: “This is unexpected. A civilian now confronting the young man with that vest. We’ve got no details on this man’s identity.”

As they continue to speculate and report on what’s happening, Shannon is on the edge of her seat. She has always wished Evan nothing but to best. To see him like this now hurts way more than expected.

After what feels like forever, the man that walked onto the scene tackles the bomber. There appears to be somewhat of a scuffle, but then more police, bomb squad looking people are moving in and the reporter on the scene tells them the bomber is taken into custody.

Shannon lets out a sigh of relief, sagging slightly and allowing herself a thankful gaze to the heavens. She hasn’t moved her eyes away ever since she first recognized Evan and she’s pretty sure the tea will stain her rug and her couch.

God, that was super stressful. She doesn’t think she can handle anymore revelations like that today, she thinks to herself.

“Well, that firefighter really appears to have taken the brunt of all of this. That’s an entire ladder truck that you see there. We can only hope for the best at this point.”

She sits back up, wanting to at least keep watching until Evan is freed and on his way to the hospital, maybe even send him a card or something. Then, naturally, because the universe loves to fuck with her, another revelation gets thrown in her face when she looks back to the screen. The camera zooms in on the firefighters helping and she spots a very familiar silhouette among them; Eddie.

Holy shit.

She rubs at her eyes and blinks a few times, before squinting at the screen. She has half convinced herself she’s imagining things, but no, that is still very much Eddie.

From the angle and distance, she can’t make out many of his facial features, but she doesn’t really have to. The way he’s kneeling beside Buck, hand continuously running over him again and again, while his counterpart medic doesn’t, tells her enough.

There is a desperation there when he looks up to the man that rushed in earlier to talk down the bomber. His shoulders are both tight and slumped. He almost looks a little like he did during the last glance she send to him, before she was whisked away by doctors during her birth.

The thought makes her swallow and a pit grows in her stomach when the man responds and Eddie almost collapses in on himself, only held up by the steel in his spine that has been forced in there by his father.

Shannon claps her hand to her mouth, nearly choking on her tears. She can’t have just been forced back into this sphere she left behind just to face another tragedy. She can’t watch as Eddie loses another person dear to him after her. She doesn’t even want to begin to think what it would mean for Christopher.

“Now, look at this. Bystanders stepping in. They're gonna help out. This really is an amazing scene that’s unfolding. What an incredible show of support and gratitude.”

Oh thank God. Bystanders are indeed stepping in, running over the blockade to help and lift the truck off of Evan. The tears now truly start to fall and she can only feel gratefulness towards everyone there, who stepped up and helped.

She watches as Evan is lifted on a stretcher by the woman who was helping Eddie earlier and another man. Eddie is also there, but he doesn’t appear to be helping, instead holding Evan’s hand as he disappears into the ambulance.

Despite following along every moment, it doesn’t all register until the camera pans away from the disappearing ambulance.

Shannon tunes the journalist out, who is babbling about beautiful moments of support, instead again realizing that, holy shit, Evan and Eddie are in the same city as her. Christopher is probably in the same city as her. Evan and Eddie still know each other. Work together.

When she left Christopher with Evan, she did so, because leaving him anywhere else would invite questions that would crumble her resolve. She always felt bad about it, but she never questioned what that would have meant. Now, she understands that her leaving the way she did, forced Evan and Eddie into each other’s orbit.

She has always assumed that after a while, Evan would leave El Paso too. That he would have saved up enough and leave that shithole town behind like they both always wanted to. In a way, he did, though he didn’t leave it alone.

Or he ran into Eddie again at work and this is all coincidence.

However, Shannon has a hard time believing that. She remembers Evan clearly no matter how many years have passed, the way he was always ready and happy to help, delighted in watching Christopher, showing him all the chickies. Seeing them together still, it doesn’t feel unreasonable to her that he stayed when she left. That he kept offering to help.

A part of her feels like she should be surprised Eddie took the offered help. When she was still there, he wanted nothing to do with Evan – the boyfriend – always making sure she did drop off and pick up when Evan watched Christopher.

But she doesn’t find it weird. Evan is so open and earnest and Eddie must have been panicking when he found her gone. Guilt stabs through her again. She can totally believe that he would have been weak to those baby blues just like she was, especially when she divorced him for the reason she did.

Yeah, sure, Eddie never confirmed she was right and resisted her more delicate way of bringing it up, but he signed those paper without too much protest, and looking at him now, even tiny on that television screen, she can tell he nearly lost the love of his life.

She needs to find him.

She knows it sounds crazy, because she walked out on not only him, but their child soon and she never turned back. After all she did, she is probably the last person he wants to see. Ever.

However, he just went through something ginormous and he needs people to lean on. Shannon might not know anything about accidents, but that looked bad, and she does know what it’s like to have hospitalized and dying loved ones. You need people to prevent you from drowning. Eddie needs someone right now. A friend.

Before she got pregnant and responsibility took them down – something much bigger than they could prepare for tying them together – they had been friends. Good friends. They’d spend hours driving around, talking, laughing, sharing things they never shared.

If she hadn’t become pregnant, Shannon believes that even though they wouldn’t have worked out in the end as partners, she would have had a lifelong friend in Eddie.

Besides, if her theory about what happened between them is correct, then Christopher just had one of his dads be severely injured. If wanting to support her child, even if Eddie won’t let her see him directly, isn’t a good reason to at least try to find him, she doesn’t know what is.

So, she spends some times trying to figure out where the truck bombing happened, before finding nearby hospitals, driving to the wrong one first, before finding the right one.

Shannon is a little anxious, just as she was the first time, when she gets out of her car, but pushes through anyway. She’s been running for long enough from this. The people that were once her family need her, she isn’t going to abandon them again.

She is glad she gathered herself in the car, because she runs into Eddie a lot quicker than she thought she would, finding him slumped on the ground next to the ER entrance. His knees are up to his chest and his head buried between his knees.

Her stride pauses for a second, unsure how to get his attention. His shoulders are shaking a little and it hits her that he’s crying. She can’t recall ever seeing Eddie cry before. Not when he left for boot-camp, not during the birth, not after that doctor’s visit that got Chris a diagnosis. Not when they fought and not when they divorced. He always seemed so strong, so perfect, so much more in control of himself than her.

It’s almost odd to see this version of him, but it humanizes him too. He isn’t the perfect parent that she could never be, the good son to her bad daughter. He’s just a man. And right now he is alone. Everyone just walks past him, letting him cry by himself.

After hesitating for a moment longer, she takes a deep breath and makes her way over to him, sliding down the wall and sitting down next to him. She doesn’t say anything or touch him, just sits close enough so that he can feel her presence.

“Are you going to be disappointed at me again?” Eddie asks after a moment, voice rough and raw. He doesn’t look at her when he says it, she isn’t even sure he knows who he’s talking to.

“Why would I be disappointed in you, Eddie?” she asks, proud of herself when she doesn’t waver when she talks to him. She is also curious at the answer, wondering why that’s what he expects anyone that is here with him to be with him.

Eddie’s head whips up at the sound of her voice. His eyes are red-rimmed, wide in their shock, and his hair is an absolutely mess. He gapes a few times, then almost seems scared as he softly asks: “Shan?”

“Hi, Eddie,” she smiles crookedly. “It’s been a while, huh?”

“Wha- what are you doing here?” he asks, scrabbling back a little.

A part of her withers in her chest. She didn’t expect a warm welcome, but this is also a little extreme, though to be fair, she did ambush him slightly. So, she tries not to take it to heart as she explains: “I saw what happened on the news. First recognized Evan, then you. I kinda guessed what might have happened, since I left. I wanted you to not be alone.”

Eddie stares at her as if she’s an alien, clearly trying to find his wits and failing slightly. She might not know him well anymore – maybe she never did – but she knows his overwhelmed face from miles away.

“I know being alone sucks,” she says, when he stays quiet, wanting to give him more context. “I never meant to stay gone. Never meant to leave the way I did. I just didn’t know how to come back. This kind of felt like a sign, I guess?”

“Signs aren’t real,” Eddie tells her, almost instinctively. He startles a little at the sound of his own voice, then blinks himself into the presence and frowns: “You didn’t know how to come back? Maybe pick up the phone? Call? Send a card? Or a text? Hell, even a telegram or a fax.”

She can’t help the humorless chuckle that escapes her and she shakes her head: “It’s not that easy, Eddie.” He is about to protest, but she cuts him off: “I am sorry. I am. So incredibly sorry. You have no clue how guilty I’ve felt all these years. I want to make it right. Make it up to you. To Christopher. But right now, I just want to be here for you. Are you okay?”

With the way he looks, Shannon would have thought she slapped him, instead of merely asking a question.

Then he glares at the ground, as if his eyes can burn a hole in it. There is a small tremble in his lips, but he bites down harshly, pushing it all down. “I’m fine,” he grits.

Watching him now, she wonders how much he pushed down when they were together, how much of his hurt she didn’t see, like he didn’t seem to notice her hurts. God, they had just been stupid kids, hurting themselves in doing something neither of them wanted to.

She nudges him and waits until he is looking at her again, before she gently says: “It’s okay if you’re not fine, you know. I mean, you love him, don’t you?”

His eyes go from a mild glower to a wide eyed stare and he lets go of his bottom lip to gape at her. For a few moments, he’s silent, then he says in a hushed whisper: “Oh my god, I love him.”

“Did you- did you not know that?” Shannon asks, almost cautious. Maybe her assessment that they ran into each other and it was a coincidence was more correct, but then how long have they been working together for Eddie to fall for him the way he has?

“Yeah,” Eddie squeaks. Then he looks panicked as he asks: “Does this- Am I… am I gay?”

Shannon freezes, unsure if it is considered rude to answer yes to that. Finally she settles on saying: “Do you think you’re gay?”

“I don’t know,” Eddie yelps. “Do you think I’m gay?”

“Uh…”

“Oh my god, you totally think I’m gay.”

“Well, you just agreed that you love a guy, pretty sure that’s kind of gay,” Shannon exclaims, hands fluttering about awkwardly. “And, like, I kind of thought you were… when I divorced you. But you can say you’re not.”

“I mean, yeah, but I didn’t know that,” Eddie says.

“You didn’t?” Shannon can’t help but ask.

Eddie groans and buries his head in his hands, but she can see his ears have turned pink. Embarrassed he asks: “Was I- Was I that obvious about it?”

“A little,” Shannon winces apologetically. “But I only noticed after Chris was born. Too caught up in it all before that, I suppose.”

“Sorry,” Eddie murmurs. “I- I wasn’t a great husband.”

“No, you weren’t,” Shannon sighs. “But I don’t think either of us were great at being married. God, remember how we fought?”

“Yeah, that got bad,” Eddie says, uncurling slightly and managing a small smile. He is relaxing again, seeming slightly more grounded than when she first arrived and accidentally made him question his whole identity. Them being able to joke about their marriage won’t fix everything and there is so much she still has to make up for, but it feels like a good first step.

With them on more solid footing, she feels a bit of curiosity burning, both at what happened with Chris after she left as well as with Evan and Eddie. Slightly suggestive, she asks: “So… you and Evan.”

“Buck,” Eddie says. “He goes by Buck.” Then he blushes at the correction that seems to come almost instinctive.

“Okay,” Shannon nods with a smile. “So… you and Buck.”

The blush get worse and he curls in on himself. “It’s not like that. We’re best friends. He probably doesn’t even like me like that. He’s just so good and nice. Too nice.”

Shannon can recognize that. She can still remember the way she said the same thing to him. It hadn’t been a compliment then, not entirely. But the reproach was mostly directed at herself. How she didn’t deserve his kindness.

Eddie rubs his face and groans again: “God, he is so fucking nice. And sweet. And good with Chris. He loves that kid to death, you know.”

Vaguely she thinks, that maybe her first assessment was right, except the being in love together kind, but just that Buck stayed to help. That realization, though, gets overshadowed by a stab through her heart at the words. At the knowledge that someone else is good with her kid, that Christopher has a bond that she was supposed to have with someone that is not her.

However, she knows that she can grieve the feeling of a lack of connection to Christopher, but it’s her that walked out. So, she swallows it and with a wobbly voice, she says: “I’m glad Christopher has him.”

“Me too,” Eddie says, voice tight. “Fuck, I don’t even know how I’m going to tell him about this. What can I even say to him? Do I bring him here to wait for Buck to wake up? Or do I wait until Buck is out of surgery? Let Chris sleep tonight and burden him tomorrow, but risk him feeling like he missed out on being here for Buck or – god forbid – saying goodbye to him?”

Shannon’s breath catches and she almost doesn’t dare to reply. She hesitates, wondering if Eddie is actually asking her on advice about raising Christopher again, if he trusts her with that, or if this is just him ranting.

Cautious, she asks: “Would the security of knowing Buck is okay later be better for him or the ability to be here for him now regardless of the situation?”

“The- the last,” Eddie finally decides. “He’d want to know. He’d want to be here.” He nods to himself, then goes to fish his phone out of his pocket and dials a number. “Hey, Carla. Did you see the news?”

She has no clue who Carla is and tries to remember if it’s anyone from Eddie’s vast extended family that he mentioned when they were married, but no one comes to mind. It sits wrong in her chest that she doesn’t even know the person who is with Christopher right now.

“Yeah, he’s in surgery. He’s probably going to live, but his leg- it’s bad. Really bad. Uh, can you- can you bring Chris to the hospital? I- I want to tell him myself. In person. And I can’t just leave Buck alone here,” Eddie’s voice snaps her back to the conversation.

When he replies to whatever Carla said, he sounds like there is something stuck in his throat. “Thank you so much. I- I don’t know what I would do without you.” Then he quickly hangs up, clapping a hand over his mouth and squeezing his eyes closed.

She pulls his tense form into her side. Her ass is cold and kind of numb from sitting on the ground outside, but she doesn’t care. She’s run so long from this. Not just from El Paso, her in-laws or Christopher, but Eddie too. They had never been there for each other, no matter how much they tried to be. If she wants to come back, that has to change too.

So, she holds him, lets him tuck his head into her neck and feels the way he cries. Even now, he is restraining himself, shoulders tight to prevent them from hitching and cries silent, only felt as hot tears hit her skin, not heard and carefully hidden from view.

Still, despite his restrain, he doesn’t succeed in stopping himself from crying and it takes a few minutes before he stops himself.

Once he does, he pulls away from her. He roughly rubs his tears away, frowning as if annoyed with himself that they’re even there. Before taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders.

Shannon just watches in a weird sort of fascination as a mask gets pulled on, then realizes with a start that mask is more familiar to her. She wonders if she’s a stranger to Eddie too. Wonders if they were ever anything other than two strangers pretending they weren’t.

“I need you to go,” is what he finally sees when he has gathered himself completely.

“What?”

Her heart constricts, cracks and gets folded in on itself to punch her in the gut. She knew not to expect a warm welcome, but she thought she at least broke the ice somewhat, opened herself up, apologized, and it seemed like Eddie accepted that somewhat. But now that is undone and he is shutting her out, like he always does.

The instinct of all their years together is to fight, to get angry, but she suppresses it. Eddie is not her husband anymore and she gave up the right to call herself Christopher’s mother. It’s up to Eddie to let her in again, to let her make it right. It crushes her that he doesn’t want her to, but it’s not on her to force this on him.

So, she swallows the bile that comes up. The taste of broken hope foul in her mouth.

However, then it seems Eddie’s words register in his own mind and he waves his hand around kind of panicky as he says: “Oh, no, not- not like that. I just- For now.” He pinches his own brow and takes a breath, then steadier he says: “I need you to go. For now.”

“Just for now?” Shannon asks, unable to help keep that vulnerably hopeful note out of her voice as she does.

“Yeah, just for now,” Eddie assures her. “I- I can’t- Right now, I- I have to worry about Buck and- and Chris and our- our job. Fuck, I- I only just realized I love him. I can’t- I need to process that, be here for Chris, for Buck. I can’t deal with you being here on top of that. I need to talk to- to Buck first.”

“Of course, yeah, no, I get that,” Shannon immediately says. She can’t even begin to imagine how tonight must have been for Eddie. Her showing up was a gamble and it paid off, but not right now. Not in the midst of all this.

Still, she is going to do it right this time, not abandon Eddie to his fate like she felt abandoned. It’s a terrible feeling, trust her. So, she checks: “As long as you’re gonna be okay. Are you alone here? Will you have anyone here other than Christopher? Someone you can lean on?”

She almost asks after Carla, but stops herself. It sounds jealous even in her own mind, even though it’s not meant like that. God, what if Carla is Buck’s girlfriend? That would make this whole thing even more of a mess.

“I’ll- uh, I’ll have Carla? Maybe,” Eddie offers. “She’s an at home care aid, watches Chris. That’s something.”

“Doesn’t sound like much of anything,” Shannon breaks kindly. “Is there anyone you can call? Didn’t you get here with coworkers?” She’s pretty sure she saw more people on the news.

Eddie winces at the mention of coworkers and he says: “Uh, they all kind of hate me right now.”

“What? Why?” Shannon frowns. She now remembers how their conversation started, how Eddie thought there was someone there to be disappointed in him. She can’t imagine why someone would be in these circumstances. Unless Eddie somehow caused the accident, but that seems unlikely.

“Uh, they all found out me and Buck are married,” Eddie mumbles, not meeting her eyes as his cheeks flush once more.

“You’re married?”

The flush only strengthens and Eddie ducks his head, still refusing to look her in the eyes. “Yeah, we, uh- we are. Marriage of convenience. So, Buck could adopt Chris and watch him while I re-enlisted. I- I didn’t want my mom to take him. She might not have given him back.”

That is a loaded sentence and Shannon needs a moment to process every part of it.

Firstly, marriage of convenience? Does Eddie mean to tell her that these two idiots got married, because it was useful and it’s taken him until now to even realize he’s in love with the guy? That he’s fucking gay? Really?

Secondly, Buck adopted Christopher. She doesn’t know why that feels like a punch in the gut. She already knew that Buck has a prominent spot in his life, that he took over for her after she left. But hearing that he has a legal claim on him, while she gave up hers, makes it real in a way that tears her up inside.

Thirdly, they did that to prevent Helena from taking Christopher. Out of everything, that’s the easiest to absorb. Helena has wanted to raise Christopher on her own from the moment he was born, even before that too. If it wasn’t a federal crime, Shannon maybe would have snapped at some point and just taken Christopher and ran across state borders to get away from her.

Once everything has settled, she has to pick what to focus on, finally deciding to say: “Only you, Eddie, only you.”

“Uh, thank you?” Eddie replies, horridly awkward in a way that reminds her of the eighteen year old she fell in love with once upon a time.

She giggles, unable to help herself, the laughter only growing stronger as Eddie squawks and gently pushes with a pout.

“Shut up.”

“I’m sorry,” she smiles. “It’s just very you. Bet it was your idea to lie about it to your coworkers.” He blushes. “Oh my god, it totally was.”

“I said shut up!” Eddie exclaims, but there is something lighter about him when he does.

Shannon holds her hands up in defeat as she smirks: “I will, I will.”

“Good.” Eddie eyes her suspiciously, then pouts: “It wasn’t meant to get this much out of hand. We just started lying and then we got in too deep and couldn’t get out anymore.”

In a way, the words remind her of what he did with her. The way he convinced himself that he loved her, kept going and going until they had a child, a marriage, a home, and he couldn’t get out. How both of them got trapped in his lie.

This time, he has a different lie, however. This time he probably kept telling himself it wasn’t that deep, that it was just convenience and didn’t mean anything. That no one had to know, because then no one could tell him what he was doing meant something. Then no one could force him to see what he’s been ignoring for so long.

Her chest constricts for him and she squeezes his shoulder. “I hope it works out well for you this time, Eddie.”

He frowns for a moment, probably confused how she got to that response, then smiles crookedly: “Me too, Shan.”

“Tell them they need to be there for you, yeah? And let them,” she asks, because she’s sure Eddie won’t let them, even if they extended an invitation. He has always been stubborn like that.

In response his face contorts and he doesn’t meet her eye as he says: “Maybe,” which is probably all she is going to get from him now, unless she wants to push, but she doesn’t.

As predicted, Eddie decides he’s had enough of this for today, because he hauls himself onto his feet and holds his hand out to pull her back up. A part of her feels like maybe she should call him out on it, but he’s probably has had a hard enough day. Plus, he still has to break the news to Christopher. She wishes she could be there for that, but knows it’s too soon. It wouldn’t be good for Christopher and she refuses to be a horrible mother. So, she lets Eddie pull her up.

Eddie pauses for a moment when they stand there, clearly hesitating for a moment. His spine straightens with resolve and then he quickly wraps too arms around her, squeezes her for a moment, before letting go and stepping back. “Uh, thank you. For coming.”

The bashful little look he gives warms something inside her and for a moment, she remembers the moments like this one that made her fall in love with him all those years ago.

However, she’s older now. Wiser too. The warmth is no longer the flutter it used to be, instead it’s a nostalgic fondness. A love she used to feel, now whittled down into something else, something more friendly. She likes that that still exists too.

“Of course,” she smiles. “Is it too early to make an in sickness and in health joke?”

“Probably,” Eddie snorts loudly at that. That stupid snort he always did when he genuinely found something funny. God, she missed that. She missed the friend she had.

“Then I’ll wait with that,” she grins widely. A little more timid, she asks: “Will you call me when you have news on Buck?” and news on if I can ever see my son again, she doesn’t say, though she’s pretty sure Eddie picks up on it.

He sends her a sympathetic look, but it doesn’t make her feel pitied like it used to do, even if Eddie has his mother’s face. “I will,” he promises. To add a bit of lightness to it, he jokes: “Does that mean you’ll unblock me?”

Shannon lets out a short laugh at that, though it’s more of a wet chuckle if she’s honest with herself. “I will,” she promises too. Both promises feel like more than coordinating an update.

For a moment, they just stand there, next to the ER entrance. Silently. Then Shannon jerks with her thumb in the general direction of her car and says: “I guess, I should go now?”

“Uh, yeah,” Eddie agrees, obviously feeling a little awkward about the whole thing. “Uhm, goodbye, then, I guess? For now.”

“Yeah… Goodbye. For now,” Shannon nods. She hugs him again, then quickly walks away before she can find another excuse to stay. Christopher has to deal with this first, before she can come back. She isn’t going to be a horrible mother. Not again.

So, she leaves.

Well, she goes to her car. Then she sits behind the wheel, telling herself to turn the key and drive away, but finding herself unable to do so. Before tonight, she thought she would never see Christopher again, that he was halfway across the country. But now he’s in the same city as her. Almost at the same building. So incredibly close.

Which means that Shannon sits right there. Unable to move, eyes trained on the ER entrance Eddie disappeared through moments earlier. She isn’t going to talk to him. She just wants to see him.

After fifteen minutes, there he is. He’s walking with an Afro-American woman, who is leading him gently. He’s dressed in his pajamas and looks a little sleepy, but he’s walking easily with his crutches, glasses firmly in place. He looks okay. Happy. Healthy. So big.

A breath catches in her throat and without her permission a tear slides down her face. It’s immediately followed by another, then another one, until she’s crying in her car. Alone.

It’s not even an entirely sad sort of crying. It is a little, but it also isn’t. Sure, she is sad because the baby she once held is now a little boy, easily standing on his own too legs and no longer tripping over his crutches and it aches, because she missed so much. But he looks okay. He lived. She didn’t irreparably fuck him up for life and that’s a relief she didn’t see coming, until it suddenly hits her now, sitting in her car, watching him.

She waits until he’s inside, then sits there for a few minutes longer. It’s a Herculean task, but she turns on the ignition and manages to drive away.

At home, she falls into bed feeling exhausted. She is anxious about how tomorrow will go. If Eddie will ever contact her again, if Buck will let her back in Christopher’s life, or if he’ll block her return while Eddie would have let her back in. If she will ever see Christopher again. If he will still want her there.

It gnaws on her. Her mind keeps running and sleep alludes her until the late hours. In the end, she finally manages a few hours fitful sleep.

However, she shouldn’t have worried, because when she finally wakes up the next morning, it is to a series of texts from a number she hasn’t had contact with in years. The contact name is still Edmundo, which she had done to be petty after the divorce. She changes it back to Eddie, before opening them.

Is a hospital a weird place to confess?

This is Eddie, by the way.

Chris took the news about Buck as well as he could.

Buck is okay too.

We’re with him now.

Might take a while to bring it all up.

A knot unclenches in her stomach and a smile comes on her face. It’s not perfect, it will be a while for her to be allowed back in, but Eddie isn’t pulling back and Christopher and Buck are both okay. She couldn’t ask for more.

So, she decides to be hopeful instead. She’s been working on herself. This is a good step for her. It’s maybe even a first step to getting some semblance of a social life, because when she’s honest has been a little lonely.

With a shit eating grin, she texts back: A hospital is a great place to confess

Hug Christopher tight from me?

Would it be ok for me to send Buck a card?

~~

A/N:

Does this AUAU primarily exist to fuck with people that check the titles for this fic on tumblr to trick them into thinking the reveal wasn’t happening in chapter 30? Mayhaps. However, I am happy about bringing Shannon back for this, just to let her know what happened in her absence, since that will always be iconic to me, because that is wild from her POV

I am sad I didn’t bring Shannon back in the main verse, but you can’t bring her back without having to deal with all the messy emotions that come with the way they split up and the insecurities and whatever and that isn’t what the main fic is about. And if I brought her back, that is what it would have become about. However, dipping my toe in it through these AUAUs is very fun :D

[thezombieprostitute]

Frayed - Part 3

Summary: There are so many new things happening in your life that the only two things you can count on are your boyfriend, Mace, and that your life is almost always in danger. 

A/N: Reader is female. No physical descriptors used.

Warnings: Implied death and violence. Please let me know if I missed any!

A/N2: Written for @the-slumberparty's December Daze Challenge.

Prompt: the electricity is out, let's keep each other warm

Part 2 -- Part 4

Series Masterlist

It's been a few months since the scare at the ice cream parlor. You've significantly calmed. Well, at least you're no longer looking over your shoulder every 20 seconds and you don't wince every time you walk past the parlor. Not that you did much walking. Mace was insistent on driving you to and from work. As much as Teach pushed, the priority for the family was still finding out who put out a hit on Steve's wife. You can't say you blame him. You just had someone try to intimidate some information out of you. She's got someone literally gunning for her!

You've gotten into your routine with work and Mace's security measures. Your job has been getting, maybe not easier, but certainly more tolerable. Dr. Beck is very patient with you for the grant writing aspect of your job. Practically begging for funding was something you'd never had to do with Wilford & Gilliam. But, then again, they weren't a non-profit. You hated having to ask for funds to replace machinery that was outdated almost a decade ago. It was definitely your least favorite task and you always needed to shut out as much peripheral interference as you could.

When you take your lunch break in your "office", you also take your phone off Do Not Disturb. There were several texts from Mace and a missed phone call from Teach. Your breath hitches as you listen to the voicemail.

"DC we've gotten word that Franco is in your area," Teach's voice informs you. "I haven't told Mace yet, I'll let you do that. For now I need you to stay out of sight at the clinic. I'll call again when we're sure it's all clear."

You feel the tears form in your eyes at the panic building in your chest. More than that, it's the frustration. You were doing what you knew to be the right thing. You were saving lives and making sure people were held accountable. And you've lost so much for it! You lost your salary, your apartment, even your health and well being! As much as you've heard people talking about taking comfort in doing what's right, standing up for others, you can't help but mourn what you used to have.

You start sobbing, months and months of pent up frustration and anger finding their way out. To your credit you don't throw anything, knowing you'd just hate yourself if you did. You desperately want to call Mace, have him come and hold you, comfort you, but if he shows up, he might get spotted by Franco and ID'd as part of the Family and then he'd be in even more danger than usual. It just all feels so unfair.

By the time Mace picks you up, you've gotten the all clear from Teach. You don't tell Mace about it. It'd just make him worry all the more and there's really nothing he can or could have done about it except put himself in danger. You decide to just plant a smile on your face and ask him to hold you extra tight tonight.

As soon as you're in the passenger seat Mace asks, "what's wrong? Did something happen?"

"Huh?"

"Your eyes," he points to your face. "You've been crying."

"It's just been a long day, AC," you sigh. "Please, let's just get home."

He nods and pulls away from the free clinic. "Is there anything I can do?"

"No," you shake your head sadly. "It's just...life. You know?"

He nods thoughtfully. You're so lost in trying to hide your pain you miss the brief look of pain on his face. He knows how much your life has changed since the two of you reunited and he's scared he's not enough for you. That you're going to change your mind about moving away and go on to bigger and better things, just like after high school.

The rest of the trip home is spent in silence.

Back at the apartment, Mace is quick to start cooking. You hug him from behind and thank him for taking care of you. He looks over his shoulder at you, "it's the least I can do, DC. You've been the best thing to happen to me in years." You squeeze him a little tighter. "I hope you always know that," he adds. He feels you nod against his shoulder and smiles.

You finally let go of him when it's clear he needs to move around to do the cooking. You settle onto the couch and put on one of his hoodies. Your shoulders are finally starting to relax when the power goes out.

"Shit!" Mace shouts from the kitchen. You grab your phone and turn on the flashlight to help him see so he doesn't burn himself. "Thanks, DC!" he huffs as turns off the burners and gets things secured. He sighs, "I'm not gonna ask you to hold that light the entire time so we'll just leave the cooking for later."

You nod and he gets out his own phone. Together you find some emergency candles and get them lit so you can save on battery life. Mace goes to the window and looks out. You hear a soft "huh".

"What's wrong? The entire block out?"

"No, it might just be the building," he says slowly. He pulls out his phone and makes a phone call. "Jake, can you check my building's area for power outages?" A pause. "No wi-fi because the power is out." A longer pause. "Shit. Was there any activity on Walker or Franco recently?" A short pause before his head shoots up and he looks at you. "We'll keep ourselves locked up, just make sure someone's doing a sweep and send Hal to check the usual suspects for the building losing power."

He hangs up the phone, his eyes never leaving you. "Why didn't you tell me?"

You don't bother trying to deflect or play dumb. "Because what good would it do? You'd be putting yourself in danger if you came to the clinic off schedule. And by the time you were picking me up, I'd gotten the all clear."

His jaw clenches and the muscles in his neck tighten. "You should have told me."

"Again, what would be the point?" you ask, your voice starting to rise.

"I could've posed it as taking you to a surprise lunch date or something and gotten you out of there."

"Then he'd know you were associated with me and that could put you in danger either as leverage for me to talk or because they now know who you're working for! There was nothing that could be done so I didn't tell you because I didn't want you hurt or stressed out by the futility of knowing!"

"Because then you wouldn't be suffering alone!"

"I'm already suffering alone!" you scream. "You didn't lose your high paying job. You didn't lose your sense of safety. You didn't lost a damn thing! I did! And it fucking sucks because I don't want to hurt you but I need to grieve, but I don't want to stress you out, but I need some fucking release, but I don't want to be even more of a burden on you, but I---"

"Burden?" he interrupts. "When have I ever given you the indication that you're a burden?"

"Oh come on, Mace," you scoff. "You took on a protection duty you were never qualified for. You abetted a murder to keep me safe. You drive me to and from work practically every day and it's very much out of your way to do so! You cook for us and check in on me. I have to be a burden."

The candlelight is strong enough you can see the pain written all over his face. He strides towards you, back you against a wall, and puts his arms on either side of your face.

"You're not a burden," he whispers hoarsely. "I don't do these things because I have to. I do them because I care about you and want to take care of you." You sniffle, trying not to cry again. "I know you lost so much in all of this. I've been...I've been scared you'd think I'm not enough of a reason to stick around. That you'd realize you miss your old life and you'd leave to another country where you could have that life again."

You chuckle, "so we definitely both need to work on our communication skills."

Mace nods, "I also think we could use a vacation. I've got so much time saved up, I've just never had a reason to use it."

"A vacation sounds nice," you nod. "Just the two of us. No work stress."

Mace opens his mouth to say something but then his phone rings. You nod your assurance for him to answer it. He listens for a couple minutes but finally nods and says, "alright, thanks Hal. And make sure to thank GBH for me." A pause. "I know he creeps you out but do it for me?" Another pause. "Thanks." He hangs up.

"No sign of foul play," Mace reports. "I forgot to look out the other side of the building. The buildings behind us are the ones on our power grid, not the ones out this window." He shakes his head, "I feel kinda stupid for calling them up."

"Another sign you need a vacation," you add. "Gotta get your head back on straight."

He nods and pulls you in for a hug. "In the meantime, how about we spend the night keeping each other warm under the blankets? At least until the power comes back on."

"That sounds like a plan."

Tagging:

@alicedopey; @chibijusstuff; @delicatebarness; @fluxxdog; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @jamneuromain; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @lokislady82; @rebekahdawkins; @ronearoundblindly; @texmexdarling; @thiquefunlover63

[cherryview]

!!!!

[alinelie]

sheet for kian

victor's sheet

[knaveofmogadore]

You ever wake up from a dream so fucked that you have to sit there for 10 minutes after waking to rewrite the ending so that you can move on with your day or are you normal

[pois0ncandy]

no matter how much my life is improving, i still feel empty and alone

[rival-the-rose]

Have to document every time I see a new, good doctor I think - saw the neurologist today and he was everything I could've hoped for. Read my whole history going back 5 years, very professionally hinted that my previous neurologist was full of shit (he was but I didn't realize that was evident from just the notes), listened to my concerns and changed+added to his plan based on what I said, and laid out a diagnostic trail that explicitly ended in Mayo clinic if he isn't able to find answers. He took five minutes aside just to tell me that he's not happy with bucket diagnoses or jumping to psychosomatic explanations (roasting my previous neurologist who in his opinion missed a viral meningitis diagnosis in favor of psychogenic seizures). I think he's a little bit more into diagnostics than I am - I don't usually go for diagnostics unless they're going to change the treatment plan, but also at this point I think a firm diagnosis would be nice for planning and prognosis even if day to day management doesn't change.

It's also taking a minute to adjust. I was living my life with the assumption that at any time, without really realizing it, I could pass a threshold of stress that would cause me to seize until I couldn't talk or walk again. Bc I didn't think I was exceptionally stressed at the time, so obviously my threshold was fairly low and I wouldn't notice before it was too late. Having a different doctor review the results and tell me (without me bringing it up) that I likely had viral meningitis instead...idk. it just paints a very different clinical picture. Does make me wonder what's up with the occasional feelings I've gotten that I've categorized as pre-ictal (bc it feels the same as when i had those seizures). Probably won't change my response (cease stressful activity and take gabapentin or lorazepam) but interesting nonetheless.

[bluestjayy]

Maybe I'm just cursed 🤪

[arcane-vagabond]

.