#are Wade and possibly cable the only ones who remember going through all that?

[wadewilsoncoreposts]

Idk if this is controversial or whatever but I think Vanessa is a seriously underdeveloped and underused character in the movies and I don’t think they should’ve fridged her in the second one

[falconfriend]

AU where some different things are possible. Don't read too much into Jay's techno babble, quite honestly, I might edit some of it out, it's not the point.

Don't be surprised if you see this edited before the final ff.net post, but it's here, and I'm happy with it. The original concept has a chapter in which our two main characters talk together and process, and that is still very, very important to me, I'll probably bring it back.

See tags for warnings.

--

The amount of power Zane is channeling right now shouldn't be possible. Jay made darn sure to learn everything he could about Zane's possible repairs while Dr. Julien was still alive—the other guys didn't like to think about it back then, but come on, he was old, Jay knew, everyone else knew too even if they weren't saying it— so anyway, he'd spin wild hypotheticals, ask what happens if one tiny piece of machinery goes wrong.

Lloyd would hit the point where he wanders off, self-consciously chuckling that this isn't really his area but he feels like he's kinda learning things, and Jay would watch the clock tick until Nya got bored... and then, that was his opening, to fire off whatever question would come off as too rude while the others were around.

The doctor would smile in a sort of understanding, if slightly flummoxed, way, and he'd start answering. Jay got a lot of answers! He figured out how to put all of Dr. Julien's numbers into his numbers, you know, the kind we learn in the modern century, and made a copy of Zane's schematics with his notes. He had a harder time finding the focus to figure out the Falcon, but Nya and Lloyd are on that anyway. Logical division of labor.

What is he talking about. What was he thinking about. Zane's dying.

Distractedly, he answers- "I said critical mass. If he doesn't contain that, he could go nuclear."

"He's containing it, right?"

"It doesn't- matter." Containing it also means dying.

"Why wouldn't it matter, Jay-"

Jay asked a lot of questions, but he never did even think to ask about Zane's power source. Shouldn't that be the first thing? Why weren't we asking questions about the power source?

He knows approximately how much power Zane runs on. He knows it isn't this much. He knows how a storm feels, right before lightning is about to strike, what builds up in the air and how much damage it can do, right before he—

Jay takes a step forward.

Wu puts an arm across his shoulders, pulling him back. Jay just about slaps him off before realizing that's a quick way to get himself thrown to the ground and shut up before he can start,

So he waits, a frustrating two, three seconds, until he finds words.

"I can help." His throat is dry and he wouldn't mind except that he needs to be louder. "Get me to him, I can help!"

The rest of the ninja are turning to look at Jay… so… slow. Cole looks like he could be swimming through molasses. Jay seethes, and flexes and unfurls his fists by his sides to let it out, and takes a small step back instead of forward.

It works. Sensei releases him, almost.

Kai looks like he might be committing a crime if he lets himself look away from Zane, which isn't helping. Finally, though, he opens his mouth before Jay can. "Your powers? …Do you think?"

"'Do I think-' yes, I think, that's electricity. Or, electromagnetic- whatever. It's energy. I can feel it, Kai- this is taking too long! Where's Pixal- Pixal! Pixal, yoo-hoo, tell them I can help!"

"That won't be necessary," says Wu. Everyone is moving like an old man right now, taking their time; Jay's sure of it. Remember that comment about Cole? It feels like Jay's the only thing who isn't wading through molasses. Jay and the Digital Overlord, that is, and Zane, who cries out so bad Jay spends that moment sure that everything's over and Zane is gone now-

Everyone is moving like the slow old man Sensei talks like, but then Jay sort of- must have blinked, or something, because suddenly, they're all shifted. Cole sets a hand sturdily against his shoulder. It takes him a moment to realize that they're all on his side.

Jay finds a hardened, gold feeling deep in his chest, and latches onto it, and uses it to find his voice. "Okay." Okay. Look. Think. "Cole, I'm going to run at you and I need you to launch me, onto that web. Lloyd, use your energy to boost me."

"But-"

"We don't have time! It's just a scratch."

"Keep him on the edge of the blast. Try to center it about two meters from him." Jay looks back at Nya, Nya looks back at him. It's like they're both realizing how small everything has been. They're nineteen- Jay's nineteen, Nya's eighteen. It's like- like, we didn't need to know the shape of the care right now, I care about you.

Nya waves him away to the task at hand with a smile that means What? Anyway, you're coming back.

Jay looks at Cole and Lloyd. They look back at him. "Well, let's go." With a serious expression, not a word in response and not wasting a second, Cole stoops, palms up and fingers intertwined, a foot-sized platform.

"I'm ready for you, Walker."

He gulps. Time freezes for a second and then skips forward again, like half a second that definitely shouldn't be allowed to be that long. "Okay."

Kai steps forward, like he's going to- hug him, maybe? Rub his back? Push him forward?

"Okay ninja-go—" he kicks off and twists. Off the ground, off Cole's intertwined hands, launching him into the air- about to panic and yell Now, Lloyd when Lloyd finds the right moment anyway, blast re-aiming him just as he's about to fall-

He's sailing through the air, back sore and ears still ringing as the wind whistles past them. Ninjago city sails beneath him. He's two feet short of Zane's hand. He's going to miss.

He's going to miss, he's sorry, and they don't have a second shot, and not that it would be okay if he didn't but now he's going to get all caught in the explosion too,

And Zane reaches back, and grabs his hand.

The jolt that immediately moves through Jay is an absolutely massive electrical discharge. It tries to run from him straight to ground; at first, he was not connected to the circuit, so the electricity is looking for him as its way out. Here's the thing about electricity—it doesn't ask questions. It's already moving by the time your question is halfway out of your mouth, and that's why you need to either be five steps ahead or be ready to start improvising right now or else you're dead.

Something about that isn't how electricity should work, though. It doesn't rush into... a wire that isn't connected to a throughline. Batteries have two ends, positive and negative, and a wire that isn't connected to both of them might as well not be a wire at all— electricity isn't trying to get out, it's trying to get to somewhere, electrons hungry to get to that battery's positive side. Every single electrical invention in the world is formed by humans forcing those electrons to take the long way.

This electricity doesn't have a destination.

The Digital Overlord is always destroying. That means energy in him is leeching outward; this isn't just entropy, this is entropy gone rogue. Jay doesn't know where he's getting the electricity from, but- if he can destroy, maybe he can create. Who knows. Whatever. What becomes apparent right then is that it seems like the Overlord needs to always leech outward, and what Zane is doing is containing him. Sooner or later the snake eats its own tail.

Zane nods, with a firm little hum, as if he can tell from Jay's face what's going on in his head. It's businesslike, and it jolts Jay back to work. Jay can stand this for a few minutes longer, but Zane- Zane's dying.

So: parallel paths. Create two paths, two options, and the electricity will keep looking for how it can be the least crowded. It's like the reason air leaves a popped balloon, kinda like pressure but with a thousand electrons that all hate each other and feel indifferent about you. Or picture... getting into a crowded convention center, and someone coming running to announce they've just opened a second doorway, and that you can get in through either line. Create two paths, and only half of it goes through Zane.

Zane releases his hand.

They really, really need to have a talk later, but Jay is relieved it's not a talk about being willing to be saved. He's helping himself be saved.

Jay holds one of the golden contact points in one hand, and one in the other. The energy rolling around his ligaments and bones deflates, taking the easiest path.

"I had hoped you would do that behind me," says Zane, whose eyes are now closed.

Jay doesn't really try for a little laugh, so much as his body tries for a little laugh, like his brain is fine-tuned into making his excuses with or without him. "You could've said that earlier."

"No, it's alright. Just… here, scoot a little to the side-"

"This is pathetic," hisses a condensed-evil murmur over their shoulder, like it's obligated to, "YOU THINK YOU CAN DEFEAT ME?"

"Yes," says Zane.

And the bluewhite what-is-that-stuff that he'd once used to take down a plain old treehorn beams closer past Jay's cheek than he can really say he's comfortable with. It's almost like being near a fire- a live wire, static. He's not too cold, but he's sure if he touched it, it would move straight through rapid-action frostbite into part of his face falling off.

"Jay, now." Jay isn't sure what he means by now, that uh, isn't very clear, but he spends a half-second in panic before realizing Zane's ice is running a cable to ground. It'll keep a direct hit from coming back for them. It means, since this is the only window before it connects, they need to hit him now.

Jay pulls the electricity out of himself, out of the air- he takes whatever excess Zane will give him, when he touches his hand- and he breaks the circuit. He shoves it, with force, the opposite of the ways electrons want to work, not the way lightning wants to work—but that's the first step of making lightning. You build up a gap. The buildup snaps from him into the Digital Overlord's metal body. Something is wrung out of him like a sponge.

There's a thunderclap that shakes the city and an explosion that's- like a video game character died. Like it's not a real explosion, it's just something- dissipating. The city just turns white.

Jay becomes aware that he's flying again for the first time in two years, and Zane is holding onto him but losing strength. And then it turns out that he's got his arms around Zane, too. He only figures that out when he starts to panic that Zane's going to fall, and the tug of Zane's weight on his arms doubles, and alerts him that they're there, secure. His body was thinking ahead, even if he wasn't.

Zane's out. He's… fine. He's fine. He's got to be fine.

And while we're at it, Jay's hoping he's fine. His heart feels- wrong.

The first thing he needs to do is get back to land, the second thing he needs to do is look at… is get Nya to look at Zane, he's not even sure he can trust his senses. Huh, hang on, there's a sound other than the ringing in his ears.

"Jay!"

That's Pixal.

"Jay!"

She's standing on the roof of Borg Tower, waving her arms, and just as Jay starts to settle enough to realize he's not frozen, adrenaline's not gonna stop him from moving and he should fly somewhere. ...Huh. He has to pick where.

It would be a really good move to let their friends see they're alive. Nya's good at robotics.

Pixal and Borg… can probably fix him faster.

Zane sparks, hard.

Like Superman, made of light, Jay descends toward Borg Tower in a graceful arc. His feet connect with the roof with a very soft patter. He locks eyes with Pixal to hand off their boy to her.

"Whoa, okay, Sparky, geez. Just thought I'd keep the sweat out of your eyes."

Well. That's not correct.

There are the tiles of a hospital ceiling in front of his eyes, which feels more correct. Apparently, Kai is also in the room, because—

"Yeah. He's okay."

—well, because that's Kai.

Cole, of all the things that could happen here, squeezes Jay's hand. It occurs to Jay that he could have died on- on really, really weird terms with him.

Whoof. Jay takes stock of his body. He starts by feeling the sheets, just to figure out where his body is, then investigates the muscles and aches beneath them. He's in one of those medical gowns that closes in the back.

Everything feels... pretty okay? No, everything feels like he's just been stretched in every direction like a piece of toffee.

No, everything feels like he's just been stretched in every direction like a piece of toffee, but also maybe like he is toffee, so he's fine.

He, uh, definitely can't move. And that feels wrong, but at least he's identified the reason he's in a hospital bed, rather than wondering. He'd find this a lot harder to process if he had walked away from it without a scratch at all, even though it would have been cooler. He sort of wonders if anyone would bring his chart over where he can read it.

"Uh, yeah, that's all great, but what about Zane?"

Kai lets out a small, slightly-amused very-concerned snort. "Jay, you asked that already. He's okay."

"Go easy on him."

That's Lloyd. There are, wow, a lot of people in this room. It's gotta be a pretty small room? Hospital rooms aren't that large. Are his parents here?

"They're on their way."

"My mouth keeps saying whatever's in my brain."

Cole laughs. "Hey, don't worry everyone, he's back to normal."

Jay's breath does a weird thing in his lungs. It's like his body is focusing on every sensory detail except where it hurts. "Yeah, you're just jealous of how I looked up there."

Cole could nearly double over laughing at another time, but right now everything about him is subdued, gentle. Jay could see him ruffling his hair if he wasn't, you know. In a hospital bed. "Sure am, sparkplug."

And there's quiet for a beat.

Jay continues, still staring at the ceiling, "Hey, Nya, how bad are you gonna kill me."

"Oh, uh—" That's Lloyd again, kicking one heel awkwardly back against the wall. Kai speaks quickly—

"She wanted to be here. It's killing her not to, I mean— everyone did. Sensei, too. We told them we've got you."

"That's nice."

"I-I said I'd run and call her once you're awake, just to let her know. I should probably go do that now. She's—"

"With Zane," Jay finishes, no bones about it. Kai nods. "That's nice." The way energy thrums from Jay's palms feels different now, like he's not just pulling it from the air, like there's a battery under his skin, but that's. That's a question for training time. It's sleep time, now.

A/N: Why did the writers say "it's reaching critical mass." I still don't know what that means. Zane's power source is presumably based on some kind of nuclear fission then, but I'm not sure what "critical mass" has to do with the Digital Overlord encounter? If anyone knows how that's relevant to how Zane died, please lend me your knowledge, I'd be very grateful and schooled.

Anyway, critically, this is an AU where it is possible for Jay to help, not an AU where Jay notices he can help. It's built on the assertion that there was nothing Jay could do in the original, but in this universe, different things were possible.

[regrettablewritings]

How They Spend the Quarantine (Tadashi Hamada, Lucifer Morningstar, Dewey Finn, Wade Wilson, Harley Quinn, & Benoit Blanc)

Just a fun (?? is that even responsible to say?) little thing I’ve been thinking about while slogging through this neverending hellscape of an extended lockdown.

Tadashi Hamada

When San Fransokyo was ordered to go into a lockdown, there were mixed feelings.

At first, Tadashi had a hint of optimism that this would mean more time to work on his prospective projects . . . But then he quickly realized that his projects mostly required tools and space offered by the campus. He could technically make do at home, but it wouldn’t quite be the same considering the garage was considered Hiro’s space.

Somberly had to clean out his lab and take whatever he could home.

Cue the rest of the group (sans Fred and Hiro) griping that at least his style of science could travel well enough to be somewhat continued off of university grounds.

Helps do delivery for The Lucky Cat. It helps him get out the house, and it’s simply helpful altogether.

Uses Baymax frequently to make sure everyone down to Mochi is sanitized, and nobody’s running a fever.

Nearly as frequent a sanitizer as Aunt Cass.

He starts most days prepared to be productive, only to stop and poke fun at Hiro, who’s almost always got his eyes trained on a video game.

Tadashi realizes three hours later that he, too, has been playing the game as Player 2.

Learned how to make facial masks with Aunt Cass. He already knew how to sew a little but frankly, making the masks made him realize he could have a new hobby on his hands. He’s currently trying to figure out how to make Mochi a little vest . . .

Lucifer Morningstar

B o r e d. A s. F u c k.

At first, he thinks everyone being forced to go home would work in his favor -- surely some rule-breakers would sneak out and try to bunk up with the Devil, right?

Well . . . Kinda? Once Chloe found out and scolded him about it, the idea died real fast. Plus, he realized he wasn’t quite fond of the possibility of being around someone who could pop up with a disgusting human sickness at any point during their time with him. Smearing their snot all over, coughing into his Egyptian cotton sheets . . . Nope, never mind, he is perfectly content having the penthouse to himself, thank you very much!

Except he’s not.

The poor bastard is going crazy by himself -- he’s just not used to being without some kind of company!

“At least in Hell, you could tell there were people around you based on the screaming!” he’d whine at his phone during his hourly video chat with Chloe.

Oh yes: The video chats. He tries to make them hourly with anyone he can get a hold of (namely, his long-suffering detective) but this clearly never plays out as he would like for it to: If he had it his way, everyone would respond in an instant and let him bounce mainly one-sided conversations off of them -- basically, what he did before all this went down.

What usually winds up happening is he gets hung up on or nobody answers him at all out of sheer annoyance over his clinginess.

Ironically, he’s not exactly crazy about when Amenadiel initiates those “family calls”. He insists it’s healthy and normal for them to do this and even calls Luci out on the hypocrisy, but let’s face it: Lucifer finds it obnoxiously gushy and weird.

He works his way into Linda’s video appointment books to help him cope with his boredom and admitted need for interactions. She doesn’t mind offering him counsel, but once Lucifer starts attempting to butt in during others’ appointment calls, it becomes an issue.

Has, at some point, gotten buzzed down in Lux and streamed himself attempting to pole dance. It drew quite a bit of attention.

He’s managed to gain a bit of a following and some companionship by streaming himself playing piano and singing. It’s not the same thing as having an actual audience, in his opinion, but it will have to do for now.

He’s never been one to binge with regards to TV shows or movies, but after the first week, he decided to binge watch every work action star Wesley Cabot was ever in.

Makes sure his staff still gets paid well. After all, he’s pretty well-off; there’s no need to make an innocent bartender’s life a living hell just because some other rich bastard fucked up, yeah?

Going off this, should he need to order to-go or anything, we already know he tends to tip as handsomely as he looks.

Dewey Finn

Kids were being sent to Horace Green on tuitions worth more than what some people saw in half a year -- of course the school was going to continue classes online!

While technically an afterschool instructor, the program is popular enough for parents to expect it to continue, and for Dewey to be kept on payroll.

Initially, he was pretty smug: He’s one if, if not, the youngest teacher-figure at Horace Green, so surely that means he’s more tech savvy than his older, stiffer coworkers, right? For once, he’s ahead of the curve!

Wrong: Figuring out Zoom was a headache, and then there was the realization of just how dependent his classes were on actual physical presence.

Plus, let’s be real: Dewey’s Internet connection was decent on its own, but craptastic when compared to those of his wealthier students. The lag is strong with this one.

Has definitely accidentally messed up the background on his screen. Somehow wound up with the Beetlejuice background and got so frustrated, he wound up keeping it there for two whole sessions.

In spite of the slight issues regarding lag, they pull through and try to resume lessons as best they can.

Tries to keep optimism by pointing out how this is a new form of entertainment they could be pioneers in.

Some days, it’s just going so wack or everyone’s so bleh that Dewey just assigns for them to watch a music documentary or something.

“Okay, kids, Mr. Finn’s hungover and clearly Summer is the only one who went to bed before 3am. So what I’m gonna have you do is watch . . . Prrrbbbb . . . Amadeus.” “How is Amadeus rock-related?” “It had a rock single, shut up. Anyway, we meet back next class and talk about what we saw, m’kay? M’kay. Over and out.”

Next class, he’s filled with dread as Summer produces an in-depth analysis of the relationship or lack thereof between character and the presence of talent as evidenced by Mozart’s abilities juxtaposed with his immature presentation and -- Dewey just can’t keep up. Sure, Summer, why not?

When he’s not busy teaching, however, he’s using the lockdown to work on some new material. Or just screwing around.

Otherwise, let’s be real, Big Boy’s living the high life in a place of his own: Playing video games (Animal Crossing, recently got back into Team Fortress 2, is trying to finally finish Ocarina of Time); eating a not very great diet; staying up late, napping at weird times; all in the name of quarantine.

If he orders delivery or to-go, he tips the best he can.

Wade Wilson

On one hand, murking never goes on lockdown. But on the other . . . He’s already technically not well, why risk that even with his mutation?

Oh, fuck I just remembered he lives at the X Mansion, never mind turn back turn back oh god give us free --

The situation is tense to say the least. There’s Wade, who’s sensible enough to know why the quarantine is in place . . . and then there’s everyone else, who knows Wade’s full of shit.

And by everyone, I “coincidentally” mean Colossus, Nega Sonic, Yukio, Domino, Cable, and Russ because the already small world of the sequel just got smaller by the fact that everyone is bound to a large but nonetheless single estate whose size has probably decreased from that of the First Class timeline.

You know those videos of the usual Quarantine Characters? Wade is somehow yet still unsurprisingly all of them, save for the frequent sanitizer. He raids the pantry frequently, sleeps at all hours, considers scooting a swivel chair down the halls exercise for the thighs, blasts video games, and so on.

Going back to the sanitizer thing, it’s not that he’s just not exactly known for being tidy. Colossus occasionally does drag him out of bed at a decidedly decent time (read: any time before 11am) to try and get him excited about cleaning up around the mansion, but it rarely ends well. At this point, the safest option is to just remind Wade to wash his hands for 20 seconds as necessary.

Has acquired a Switch and visits everyone’s island, often to bonk them on the head with a net or gift them with weird crap they don’t necessarily want. For the “friends” from Sister Margaret’s, he has somehow acquired their Dodo Codes. Nobody knows how he did this. 

Facetimes Dopinder frequently.

“Precious, you’re the beacon of light in this cold, cruel world.” “I miss you, too, DP --” “Sshshsh! I’m having a moment . . .” *weeps*

On the many occasions he orders delivery, he tips by giving the delivery person something expensive from the mansion that they can sell. Prof. X is loaded, after all. Plus, he more or less isn’t even present in this universe, it’s not like he’s gonna miss anything he can’t see/probably doesn’t even know exists in his house. The problem is, Colossus does exist and does notice and does care when things go missing. Leading to many a delivery person getting caught up in shenanigans at that weird school in the boonies that they either don’t get paid enough to deal with or couldn’t pay to make up.

“Oh, pawn shops are closed?” asks the man who looks like a skinned avocado if avocados had human skin. “Don’t worry, lemme hook you up -- I know some guys --” “DEADPOOOOOLLL!!” roars a Russian accent from inside the house. “WHERE IS THE BRONZE BUST OF THE PROFESSOR!?” The poor delivery person’s eyes widen as they realize that the odd cargo they’ve been presented with apparently holds some value of some kind. But before they can flee, the avocado man blurts, “Shit! Leave the pizza in the bushes, look me up on my Youtube page, byyyeeee!!”

In his defense, Wade does hold up his end of the deal. Much like the Dodo Codes, nobody knows what strings he pulled. They just accept it and move on.

Harley Quinn

Surprisingly compliant.

She’s crazy, not stupid: Staying at home may suck, but what sucks more is making things harder on people who may not fair so well. Besides, she’s spent time in a maximum security prison -- she can handle staying cooped up in her own home. At least home has TV, books, and snacks.

When she hears people are still going out without masks or plotting to have a protest, she strongly considers firing up the old Fun Gun and popping the next sign-carrying Karen she sees with a tit full of cadmium yellow powder.

Seriously, stay the fuck home and fuck up your own hair; this is the perfect time to make mistakes with your looks, it ain’t like you got anywhere to be or anyone to impress.

“STAY THE FUCK HOME, BITCH!” P O W!!! “JUST GO GREY ALREADY, WE ALL KNOW YOUR HAIR AIN’T THAT COLOR ANYMORE, YOU’RE THREE YEARS FROM BEING IN THE GODDAMN AGE-BRACKET!!!” P O W!!!!

Only leaves her new apartment to grab groceries and to take Bruce on a walk. She actually refuses to steal or cause a scene during this shitshow because she may be a bad guy, but she sure ain’t evil.

So far, there haven’t been complaints about the fact that she’s walking a hyena down a public street. Maybe it’s because there’s hardly anyone out? Maybe it’s because Gothamites just can’t be bothered to be fazed by it . . . Or maybe it’s because she made him a little mask for his snout.

“In this house, we wash our hands for at least 20 seconds, kid.”

Lets the forest reclaim the earth, so to speak. She was never really shaving anything for anyone but herself before, but now it just seems especially pointless.

Spends almost every day in a kigurumi. To give her a semblance of routine, she has a pink bear one she calls her “Sunday Suit.” She doesn’t know it’s not Sunday because the days just blur but Cass just doesn’t have the heart to tell her; she seemed so proud of herself . . .

Like everyone else, she’s gotten Animal Crossing. She’s trying to create an all-preppy island with a few exceptions (Astrid = Aesthetic, m’kay?)

Tips nicely when ordering delivery.

Benoit Blanc

As young and spry in nature as the gentleman sleuth would like to think of himself, he would really rather not test the dangers of the situation and go about all foolhardy -- he’s staying home!

In theory, it’s only logical and therefore perfectly fine. But in practice . . . God, he wishes he’d invested more in things to occupy himself with when home.

It wasn’t that Benoit was never home, he just never felt too much of a need to invest in a fancy entertainment center -- the fanciest he ever got was an iHome.

The beginning of the quarantine served as the perfect time for him to read over case files, catch up on paperwork, even catch up on some reading he’d been putting on hold since God knows when due to cases popping up left and right. But that dried up quicker than he’d assumed, and that’s when he was faced with what a man of his mind dreads the most: Boredom.

Finally caved and decided to hook up Amazon Fire.

Expected to use the one-month free trial on Netflix and be just fine but once the lockdown in his area got extended and he realized he wasn’t going to be able to catch up with Crazy Ex-Girlfriend at this rate, he caves even further and buys a subscription.

Fully delights at the influx of platforms uploading Broadway recordings; when The Show Must Go On put on Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat, followed by The Phantom of The Opera, it was a treat, I tell you!

Sanitizes often, despite hardly ever leaving his house besides to have a smoke or to go grab groceries. Honestly, it’s less about cleaning at this point so much as it is finding something to occupy his focus when he feels there’s nothing else to so.

Takes zinc after every meal to help lessen the intensity of any ailment that might hit him.

Definitely owns a facemask. There’s a good chance it’s from Marta or one of his relatives, and there’s another good chance the pattern is as flamboyant as his clothing. He’s delighted.

Benoit tries not to rely too much on delivery,  as he’d much rather just cook. On the rare occasion where tipping comes up, however, he gives as generously as he can.

Bonus: There’s a slight chance he might have acquired a companion to foster early on in the quarantine. Benoit hadn’t had a pet since childhood, a crime of which he was admittedly melancholic of his own involvement. However, his surprisingly busy lifestyle just wouldn’t suit a four-legged friend, now could it?

Well, now there’s time to. Besides, it would certainly ease the potential feeling of loneliness to have someone or something with whom he could interact with.

Admittedly, when shelters began encouraging people to invest time in taking home a companion, he’d been looking more for a comrade on the canine side of the spectrum -- but darn, if Duke wasn’t a handsome cat.

A lovely grey-and-white cat with eyes that matched his own, Duke has become the one Benoit monologues to (because in all honesty, the man is a performer at heart, in need of an audience to speak his mind to and portray a thought before). Plus, he doesn’t appear to mind it when Benoit finds himself belting out in tone-deaf notes to showtunes while washing the dishes: The mark of a true companion.

At this rate, he’s probably not going to keep fostering Duke when things calm down -- he’s probably going to just straight up adopt him.

Stay safe & healthy!

[rudemaidenswrite]

Jelly Beans

Cable x Reader

By: @pusantheamazonian                  not beta'd

Summary: You're in town visiting and helping out at your brother's bar. Your adorableness wins Cable.

Spotting Wade. You walk behind the bar, carrying two items in hand. A large Mason jar filled to the brim and clipboard with paper that you tied a pen to.

“Well boys can I interest you in the guessing jar? Write your name and guess on the paper and at the end of the night I'll say who won.” Smiling at Wade and his new friend. 

“Ooh what are we guessing and winning?” Wade giggles leaning in. Like always Wade demands your entire attention. His friend turns and ignores you. 

“Well to liven things up, you’re guessing how many jelly beans are in this jar. You win the jelly beans and a free drink.” Setting the items down you begin leaning on the counter. Mirroring Wade’s actions.

“I love jelly beans! Gimmie gimmie gimmie!” Wade demands. “Ooohh!” He quickly writes down his guess and nudges his friend. “Cable you want to get in on this?”

“What the fuck do you want?” Griping he turns. Grumpy is as grumpy does. The friend Cable seems to have a permanent scowl plastered to his face. In all honesty he’s not bad looking, the rugged look he’s going for actually complements his scowl.

“A guessing jar! Y/N’s giving away a free drink and jelly beans to the winner.” Wade’s excitement is quickly turning out to be annoying. 

“A guessing jar?” He looks suspiciously at you.

“Yes, though I’ve only had a few people guess. I’m thinking about adding another freebie. I don't know maybe two free drinks instead of one.”

“Don't be giving away the bar.” Weasel shouts from the end. Of course giving away free drinks is what he hears. 

“I'm not.” Yelling back. 

"What kind of jelly beans?" Cable refocuses you with that odd question.

"It's a mixture of Starburst Original Jelly Beans, Jelly Belly Classic and Just Born Jelly Beans." You're surprised that someone actually asked what kind of jelly beans.

“Stop chit chatting, you’re supposed to be helping.” Weasel places a clean towel on your shoulder. Hinting to go wipe up some tables. 

“Put a sock in it. I'm talking to Wade and Cable.” Annoyed. He does this with every man that you talk to since you arrived.

“That's not working.” Cable sends him a glare. “Uh.. just make sure to do your job.” Obviously scared he walks away. 

“Shit I should keep you. Mama was the only one who could scare him like that.” You’re floored by Cable’s ability. You knew Weasel was a scaredy cat but geez that’s just sad. He’s the bar owner, the patrons should be scared of him.  

“Mama?” Cable’s question makes a slight lull in conversation. Before Wade slaps himself in the head. 

“Right! Y/N meet Cable, this is the handsome brute I now work with. Cable this fine, bubbly young number is Y/N, Weasel’s little sister.” Wade takes lead in the introductions. 

“Sister?”

“Yeah but I'm not a scaredy cat like him.” Nodding you stick part of the towel in your back pocket.

“So what brings you to town?” Wade insists on knowing.

“Just visiting. Came to see if he was still alive. Wondering if any of the patrons had made him more stupid.”

“I doubt that, Wade's here.” Cable chuckles hiding a smile. 

“Oh I definitely like you.” Holding back a snort. You plan to make him your new buddy.

“He is single.” Wade sings causing Cable to groan.

“Wade you know you’re not supposed to be gossiping.” Playfully swatting him on the shoulder.

“But it’s so fun!” Whining he pouts the best he can. 

“Wade.. Hey!” You see a fight about to break out. Grabbing an empty bottle you whirl it at the wall behind the miscreants. The shattering glass makes them look at you. “Boothe, Sacco. Quit that shit or outside!” You glare like an angry mother who has snapped.

“And the lady saves the fortress once again.” Wade cheers.

“That’s the third time this week.” Sighing you are done with Boothe and Sacco’s shit. 

“Did they bet on each other?” Cable tilts back to look at the board.

“No but I'm secretly hoping it’s unrequited love for each other.” Chuckling you place two freebie beers on the counter for the two. 

“A hopeless romantic.” Cable mumbles.

“Yeah, I'm something like that.” 

“384." Cable shoves the clipboard back at you.

“Thank you.” You're slightly confused by Cable. He said the correct number but wrote down the wrong number. Why would he do that? Does he want Wade to win? It would be easier to just give them to him unless he doesn't want it to be a pity gift. Then that's good friendship goals. 

The night goes slowly. Wade's done runoff somewhere, probably trying to score. Cable hasn't moved from the bar. Only a dozen more people have entered your contest but that's because Wade annoyed them with it. 

But you keep finding yourself drifting back to Cable. His glares don't bother you. You bet he's a softy deep down. Most everyone here is, you just have to get through their walls. 

"So how'd you meet Wade?" You place a fresh beer in front of him. Leaning on the bar with your elbows. 

"Crossed paths during a job."

"Ah then let me guess. He was annoying and sarcastic, driving you crazy. But in his annoyingness he helped you complete your job. Not necessarily the way you wanted to."

"Basically."

"Yup sounds like Wade. He's always doing that. Got a good heart but his methods are weird." Nodding you remember all the weird things he has had you do. 

"Super weird."

"Has he bored you to death about his love life or lack of a love life?" 

"That's possible?"

"Yeah so I suggest whatever you do don't mention Captain America, Wade's get a serious crush on him. It'll be word vomiting for days."

"Ugh." The face he makes is of pure disgust but there is some fondness to it. 

"Frankly I think it would be best if Wade and Spiderman hooked up. They already got this flirty fighting friendship."

"Is he the one Wade calls Baby boy?"

"Yup!"

"Wait wait wait!" Wade runs into the counter interrupting the conversation. "Give me the clipboard. I want to change my answer. I was discussing the jelly beans contest with the author. Now I know the correct answer!"

"Okay but only this once." You're hesitant but you know the voices have been talking to him again. It's best to go with it when the voices start. Well for the most part. He quickly scribbles his new number and disappears again. "Oh Wade."

"If you know so much about him why don't you date him?" Cable follows your sight and worried face to Wade’s retreating form. 

"Ew no. What we got is platonic besides he's like my brother and that is gross." Shaking in disgust you give cable a look. 

He laughs this time. An actual laugh, a shoulder shaking laugh. It's a deep rich sounding rumble, it's nice. It'd be nice if you could hear it every day. 

"You have a nice laugh."

"What?"

Pause. Rewind. You can't believe you said that out loud. Embarrassed you stutter trying to cover up what you just said. "I-I mean graph. No staff. No! Half. Fuck!" Closing your mouth all you can do is awkwardly stare. Trying not to blush.

"Aren't you sunshine and rainbows." Obviously teasing you with a genuine smile. You can't handle it. 

"I-I'm going to see if anyone else wants to enter the contest."

"I'll be here." Winking he takes a sip. 

"O-okay." 

Picking your items up you stumble away and pretend to talk to people about the contest. Constantly looking back at Cable without it looking like you're staring. You are unsuccessful in both quests. Last call comes and it's time to announce the winner. Standing on the bar you gather everyone’s attention.

“Listen up! The few of you who entered in the jelly bean contest, I have our winner. Our winner is Wade. With an exact guess of 384 jelly beans.” There are groans all over the bar. Hopping down from the bar, people start filling out. Cornering Wade you set the jar in front of him. “What drink do you want?” 

“Sorry but terminator and me got a job.” Wade pats Cable’s shoulder. “I’ll take the drink next time Y/N.” 

“Okay.”

“Later doll.” Grinning Cable stands. My god you didn't realize how tall and buff he really was. This causes you to blush again. 

“Ooh! Y/N’s got a new nickname.”

Before you can respond, Cable has already hit him. Shoving him towards the door.

“Rude!” Wade sounds like an old lady. 

“You two have fun. I'm here all week.” You wave goodbye. 

“See ya.” Nodding Cable walks to the door before returning. Leaning in close he whispers in your ear. This close you can feel the heat from his body, smell of liquor and...gun grease? For being older he’s fine.

“Can’t forget his jelly beans.” Grabbing the jar he smirks his way outside. Making sure to give you a wink. While you are processing what just happened.

He left you hot and flustered, your body was ready. How in the world did this happen? Pelvic sorcery for the win. Damn. You know who you’ll be thinking about tonight.

[shepaintsred]

Words for Bill

December 17, 2020

As I write these words down on this page, a flock of geese has gone over the house, voicing a baleful good-bye to autumn and a welcome to the dark winter months. For William Harvey Webb, W.H. Webb, Bill, the winter road was a significant metaphor. Through the years, if we stopped and looked at the details etched into those crisp winter tracks, we were to discover more than just snow; the light reflecting off of the raised edges and the shadows pouring into the deepest hollows of the tread marks, but also, we were to discover rich histories; family, friends, conversations, laughter and tears.

Welcome to those of you who have come to share in this tribute, today.  Let us, in our imaginations, include and leave some space for so many others who want to be here with us. Bill was so well-loved and there are so many that he loved in return

You can’t see him, but standing by my side, is one of Bill’s closest friends, Richard Dawson and over there, seated near his friends, Brock and Elaine, is his wife, Shirley. Richard brings to this gathering a lifetime of shared narratives and so, at times and with his permission, he will nudge me, and I will share the odd one.

My name is Kathleen Moors.  Bill called me Katie.  Bill and I have shared a magical friendship and this is an honour to be with the people who meant so much to him.

Bill was no stranger to loss in his life.  When son, Michael, died, Bill was devastated and felt helpless.  Perhaps now he can offer comfort to the son he loved so much.

To Bill’s family; Amanda and Wade, Gaylene, Andrew and family of Northern Ireland; brother, Bob and wife, Shirley as well as his five beautiful grandchildren; we offer our sadness, our support, and our love.

I will NOT soon forget how animated Bill became at the mention of time spent with his grandchildren, particularly when they were able to share dates out to live theater or musical performances.  Bill was a real gentleman and always dressed up for such occasions.  He saw events as spectacles.  

Bill was a romantic and a gentleman.  He grew houseplants.  He loved any animal that came his way.  He adored Ginger and Blackie…and Teva…and they loved him.  There was never a dinner prepared that did not involve a remarkable place setting and candles.  I remember Bill leading me to the outskirts of Edmonton after the celebratory festivities following the Alberta Centennial exhibit hosted by the West End Galleries. He did this so that there would be no chance that I would lose my way

Bill did not own a computer.  He was the most ‘unplugged’ person I know, relying on the library for the occasion of checking electronic mail.  He didn’t access television or cable, but did watch movies, his good friend, Brock, often sending them from Moose Jaw.  The sound of opera would often fill his nest with beautiful voices, something that he shared with good friend, John Oberg when John would slip over to Bill’s place or Bill would show up at John’s, the brushes cleaned up and put away for another night.

Bill was an educator.

Richard nudges… “when jobs were scarce in Oldham, England, Bill and his new family moved to Canada and a teaching job in Fort McMurray.  Then it was on to Castor where he was principal, then principal in Grand Cache, Alberta.  Next it was Superintendent of Schools in St. Paul and later Wainwright.”

While giving this all up, to Sheep Farm in Heath, Alberta, Bill never stopped being an educator.  He taught Sunday School for several years, creating dioramas and long rolls fed through makeshift television sets…he was an amazing orator, as well, feeling very comfortable speaking in front of any group.  He volunteered, teaching art at various grade levels and I’m certain that the children were, every time, excited to see him.

Bill was an amazing listener.  He was not one to busy his hands when you spoke to him.  He looked straight at you and gave you complete attention, asking the most interesting questions that, indeed, gave you every reason to believe that you mattered, you were his entire world at that very moment.  In the busyness of food preparation, I sometimes looked over my shoulder and saw Bill listening to one of my children and I wondered, “If only I could do that!”

Bill loved reading, especially history and non-fiction, but if you suggested a book, he would inevitably pick it up at the library or purchase the title so that he could give a ‘book report’ as he called them or he might even write out his book reports and post them in the mail.

Bill loved to dance. I never got to dance with Bill. This was a moment, lost.

Bill loved connection. He was a part of the Film Society whose members included Rick and Lyn, Mary-Lou, Carol and Noreen Getzlaf, Linda Wheaton and a long list of others.  Richard says that in the group, when the beverages came out, Richard was the only one not drinking….to this day, he ponders, now chuckles about whether they welcomed him to meetings for the rich variety of film OR because inevitably, he served as designated driver!

Bill spilled over with excitement about the Wine Club events, the garden parties and the brunches hosted at John Oberg’s.  I wasn’t ever a member of the Snake Trail Alpine Club, but that, too, grew a culture and history all its own. I went on numerous walks and hikes, with Bill and you probably did, as well. Bill had a marvelous connection with the landscape and conversations were had where all we did was analyze the sky, the shadows they cast on the land…observations that might seem unremarkable to most.

Bill loved all things related to trains and had huge dreams about drawing travelers into Forestburg by creating something very special around art, trains and community. He loved talking about the process of constructing all of the unique bits that went into building the landscape elements.  He was such a master at everything he took on!

Bill explained in his letters just how much he treasured it when someone was sitting back in his big comfy chair while he painted…I think we’ve all taken a place in that chair, but most treasured for their visits would be Rose and Virginia, I think.  Oh my. The stories Bill would share over the telephone about the encouragement that was given.

Bill enjoyed the company of so many.  The RB3 Richard Dawson, Bruce Beck, Brock Chrysler and Bill Webb!  He enjoyed seeing the guys whenever possible, but also really treasured their telephone conversations over so many years.

Bill was a health-conscious person.  He didn’t hesitate to share his journey as it related to the body or the emotions.

Richard Nudges…

Richard writes WW2 stories and he did an in-depth one on the Dam-Busters Raid, focusing on the 3 men from Moose Jaw and District who were on the Raid.

He completed it and the RCAF scheduled a little show and flag ceremony on the anniversary of the Western Development Museum. All systems were go.

Then Richard got a call from Bill. He was having knee replacement surgery and would Richard come to Forestburg and help out. So, Richard assigned his Dam-Buster Project to a most capable young man at the WDM and off he went.

Bill saw his recovery from the surgery as another competition and did all his exercise and activities. Before going to Forestburg Richard made clear that he would not be helping Bill with bathroom chores. If he needed to take a dump – he was on his own.  (Don’t forget…these are Richard’s words!  Lol I can just imagine these two guys laughing about this.)

He was an excellent patient. Richard cooked and they both put on a few pounds.

After five days he was able to get around just fine and Richard headed home to Moose Jaw.

On the second knee surgery he was able to stay with Amanda and Wade and they nursed him back to health.

Regarding his health, Bill consulted with the professionals with great enthusiasm and followed all directives when it came to achieving a healthy balance in his life.  He filled countless journals and developed the habit as a way of working through difficult times.  He was exceptional at keeping archives of events and didn’t miss a detail because…

Bill was a detail guy.

Bill’s approach to painting was incredible.  He set up his studio so that it was very spare.  He was not one for clutter or distraction when he needed to focus. He and I used to joke about blending our studios and agreed that it might never work because our spaces are so different from one another. He lovingly left voice messages, “This is Bill of the Northern Studio, checking in with Katie of the Southern Studio.

First steps to a painting involved airbrushing his sky.  From there, he delved into the world of darkest values and from the very onset, Bill used miniscule brushes.  He built incredible worlds as he came forward in space, with lighter and lighter values.  He was technical and deliberate.  His works are dreamscapes of places a lot of us know, but rarely analyze the way that Bill did.  Whether it was a huge vista of the Livingston Range or those ruts on a country road in winter, he paid the subject the same attention and care. He was prolific, painting right up until the last weeks before he died.  He felt responsible to his dealers and spoke often about his professional relationships with them. Over time, these people came to be very personal friends and extremely important to him.

Richard Nudges…

“One of Richard’s last official acts for Bill was attending the Memorial for William (Bill) Shurniak at the Shurniak Gallery in Assiniboia. Bill died August 8, 2020 and the memorial was open – at the Gallery and individual.

Bill and Richard visited the Shurniack Gallery many times and if Bill Shurniack was there, they visited him. He was still active on the Board of Husky Energy in Calgary and was still travelling regularly to Hong Kong.

As Richard sat in the Gallery, listening to the music, he could see a Group of Severn painting over his right shoulder. It is a painting of Cowley, Alberta, although, I think – called Pincher Creek Station.

When his meditation was complete, he signed the registry for himself and also signed Bill’s name. Richard called him from the car and he was very appreciative I had done that.”

Painting was such a great joy to Bill.  He and I spoke to one another endlessly about our work, supporting one another and challenging one another.  In his letters, he always began with what he was working on and ended with what he was going to go and work on next.  I am so proud of W.H.Webb, the painter.  He worked so hard.  The art community is going to miss such a gentleman as Bill, such a magnificent artist, driven with a passion for capturing the spectacular views that so many of us love.

Bill’s vision.

This eulogy has not written itself easily.  I was writing and writing and deleting and writing again, simply because I felt that if I stopped and the words wrapped up and came to an end, it would mean that my friend is truly gone.  I realize through much losing these last years, that if we truly love our family and our friends, they will remain.  I have to trust that this is the case here as well.

I wrote the final words on the page…Bill’s Vision.

What would Bill want you to know…or to realize…by his life and it being entwined with yours and I am left as I began, with the sound of the geese….and an image.  Consider these a gift today, that you loved this absolutely precious and beautiful soul.  And keep him with you.

 Wild Geese by Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.

[chromecutie]

Not A Ghost - part 29

A/N - Multi-part fic. Colossus x OC where OC has come home after being wrongfully imprisoned in the Icebox. Warnings for whole fic - references and flashbacks to harsh prison environment, including various types of abuse. Takes place shortly after events in Deadpool 2. Whole thing will end up on my AO3 eventually.

Taglist: @emma-frxst  @ra-ra-rasputiin  @holamor ​  @empressme-bitch  @marvel-is-perfection  @hazilyimagine ​ @marvelhead17 @rovvboat @angstybadboytrash ​ @whitewitchdown ​ @master-sass-blast ​ @mori-fandom @mooleche @dandyqueen @emberbent @leo-writer . Wanna be added or removed? Holla at me.

-------------------------------------

Rhonda tugged at the ugly yellow jumpsuit. Somehow, the Department of Mutant Control had gotten uglier and more uncomfortable jumpsuits. She growled under her breath, "Upgraded the collars, downgraded the clothes. What else did they cut corners on to cover these?"

Wade chirped, "Good ol' privatized prisons! Gotta love 'em, right Jackboot Thug Number Three?" He nudged the guard who was ushering them to the mess hall.

Jackboot Thug Number Three was not amused and hit Wade with the cattle prod he carried. With a pained yelp, he crumpled to his knees on the metal grate they walked on. Rhonda slowed, but didn't stop for fear she'd get hit next. Hair still cold and wet from when the officers hosed her off, she shivered. Wade groaned his way back to his feet, "He's a little spicier than you, Pikachu." He played it cool, but his coughing was worrisome.

The Icebox itself looked mostly how Rhonda remembered it. Chilly, hard surfaces everywhere so even quiet sounds echoed extensively. The areas that Cable had broken through only a matter of months ago had been repaired, but were done with functionality in mind and not uniformity with the rest of the facility. Rebar, concrete, and steel jutted at rough angles. Guards stood watch near many of the repaired areas, making it difficult for inmates to try to investigate if there were any weaknesses.

Passing by a group of inmates, Rhonda only recognized a few, but those gave her dirtier looks than the ones she didn’t know. A man with red-rimmed eyes bared his teeth - filed to points - and hissed at her. Showing infinitely more confidence than she felt, Rhonda said, “Hello to you too, snaggletooth. Miss me?”

 A buzzing alarm rang, and inmates flowed around Rhonda, Wade, and their officer escort to the mess hall. “Go ahead,” their officer said gruffly. “Don’t start any shit in there or I will let you die.” Jackboot Thug Number Three melted away into the crowd, leaving Wade and Rhonda to exchange a look.

“Okay,” Wade was way too cheerful, “Let’s get our lunch trays and figure out which cool kids we can sit with.” 

“Nobody, Wade,” she answered flatly as they got in line for food. “I can’t sit with anybody here.”

The other inmates gave them a wide berth. Trays clacked and slid along the metal rails, and even though everyone was hungry, no one got too close to Rhonda. Wade muttered out of the side of his mouth, “Jesus, what did you do, huh?”

“Not here,” her voice was so raspy she was barely audible when she spoke quietly.

The food that was scooped and plopped onto their plates was beige and barely warm. The mess hall staff said it was beef and noodles, but whatever was passing for beef was too pale. There was also a small scoop of green beans - somehow worse than the canned kind, a half an orange that was dry like it had been cut days ago, and the Icebox’s trademark little chocolate pudding cup. “Still better than my piece of shit dad used to make,” Wade shrugged. Rhonda sighed, remembering why some days she had simply opted out of eating. Something tugged and twisted in her heart.

Shoulders up and head down, Rhonda held her tray close, such as it was, and scanned for a table they could take. As they walked past each one, inmates would spread their elbows or scoot a few inches so they all took up more room than they needed. Making an executive decision, Rhonda planted herself at the end of a table, and if the inmates there wanted a bubble around her, they would have to make one. As Wade settled in across from her, the wiry men who were there first scooted a few inches to put some distance between them.

With no appetite, Rhonda started to force down the food. The noodles were too soft, the meat too salty, though it was pretty much the only flavor on the whole plate. She tried the green beans and had to keep herself from gagging. Why were they slimy? Taking a deep breath, she was still deciding whether she would bother trying the orange, when heavy footsteps stomped from across the mess hall and stopped a few feet away from her table. 

“New bitches give me their pudding,” a deep voice echoed through the room and somehow managed to sound a little whiny.

“Ooh, here we go!” Wade said gleefully as he bit into the rind of his orange like it was an apple. 

She briefly closed her eyes and shook her head, her heart already surging with adrenaline. “We’re not new,” she replied, just loudly enough to be heard.

“Oh?” the deep voice grew louder and he took a couple steps. “Because I ain’t seen you here. Where the hell you been if you ain’t new?”

Rhonda fought to keep her breathing slow, controlled. “I’m not gonna spend time explaining myself to idiots.” She glanced over her shoulder, just to gauge this petulant aggressor. 

He was meaty, had a bit of a gut. There was a big burn scar on his face, which spread down his neck and trailed under his collar. His breathing was heavy, though he didn't look like he'd recently exerted himself. His face started turning red as he huffed, "Listen, bitch. You're new, and I'm gonna get your pudding."

Looking back to Wade before the man was even done talking, Rhonda rolled her eyes and shook her head. She knew this type all too well. No amount of conflict de-escalation could salvage this conversation. "Play your intimidation show with someone else." She wasn't loud, but her dry throat sounded like she'd just drank cement mix. Her tone was flat, neutral. Unfortunately, belligerent idiots still hear neutral as combative. Especially when other inmates start snickering.

The red-faced brute came hurtling his full force at Rhonda, and at the last second she swung her legs around the end of the bench, spinning to her feet. She grabbed the man by the back of his head and slammed his face into the edge of the metal table--to a sickening, wet crunch of his teeth breaking. Pieces of his teeth flew over the table. He howled in shock and pain, blood pouring from his mouth, lips busted.

Rhonda shoved him away from her, onto the floor. She picked up her little plastic cup of pudding--the only not-terrible thing in the Icebox and the single hottest commodity--and threw the damn thing on the ground with her whole strength, close to the man’s head. The foil seal broke and pudding splattered over the concrete floor. 

The rest of the inmates stopped laughing and fell silent, watching.

Rhonda wanted to roar and shout, but her throat was too sore, voice too hoarse. Instead, she croaked at the man moaning on the ground, “If you want my pudding so bad, you will lick it off the fucking floor.” When he didn’t move, she tangled her fist in his hair and shoved his face in it, snarling, “Go on, lick it! I’ll wait.” 

He made pitiful sounds, and after some hesitation, finally started licking it off the floor. 

“Wade, come piss on this idiot,” she waved him over.

He winced and balked, “Aw, come on, it hurts to pee!”

She answered him with a glare that very clearly said, Motherfucker, do not test me here or I will make an example of you.

He gave a whining groan like a kid being told to take out the trash, and crossed over to piss on the man who attacked Rhonda.

She searched the immediate area and picked up the broken pieces of teeth from the table and floor. Rattling them in her hand, she raised her voice just loud enough for the other inmates (though it hurt to speak), “Next person who touches me eats these teeth.”

When there was no answer, the inmates resumed their meals and Rhonda and Wade returned to their seats. She forced down her food, despite her nausea, and hoped she didn’t regret it later. 

“Soooo,” Wade raised his eyebrows and picked at his food, “Guess I’m never stealing any french fries from your Happy Meal. Food aggressive, much?”

She chewed her next few bites just as little as she could get away with in order to swallow her food, before giving up eating any more. “If we have the slightest chance for survival,” she said, “We’re gonna have to get control over as much of the prison as possible.”

“Sooner’s better than later,” Wade agreed. “We don’t know what kind of timeline we have.”

Scanning the room with the corner of her eye, Rhonda observed, "You see the tall, skinny guy with the blue hair?" When Wade confirmed, she continued, "He's sitting with the Vicious 13. Last time I was here, he was high-ranking with the Red Disciples." She stole a glance around the room. "I don't see who I'd expect for the Disciples, so something happened. We need to find what."

They finished their meals and as they returned their trays, the other inmates gave them sideways glances. It was respectful - sort of - like the way all animals must drink during a drought, and there will be surprising moments of tenuous peace. However, as people clustered to return trays was also a good time for a whole gang to shank one victim and then disperse with no one sure who did the attack. When neither Rhonda nor Wade was stabbed, she was sure the semi-respectful glances were the other inmates sizing her up, calculating who could take her down, when, and how.

“I see it too,” Wade’s voice was low in her ear, “Come on.” He pinched part of her jumpsuit to lead her to a less crowded part of the mess hall, less obvious than taking her by the elbow. They could hear the tiny rattle and rustle of the teeth fragments in Rhonda’s pocket. Her exterior looked calm enough, but her heart was pounding and she kept every muscle tensed just to keep from trembling. When they were out of everyone’s arm’s reach, Wade had a coughing fit. It was a deep, choppy cough that wracked his body.

Rhonda put a hand on his shoulder, brows creasing, “What’s wrong?”

Wade groaned as his cough subsided, “Probably a bunch of fuckin’ tumors. I didn’t tell you my superpower is just not dying of cancer?”

Realization dawned and turned to horror on her face. “So the collar...Wade! Why did you jump in on this?”

A guard barked, “Inmates! Turn in for the night. Lights out in one hour.”

Clearing his throat to stave off another coughing fit, he answered, “Because I’m the right choice. If Cable’s cut off from his powers, his metal arm will become his metal everything; we already covered how Colossus wouldn’t make it a day without getting his shit wrecked. Maybe Domino would get by fine, but I know the Icebox better.”

Stunned, Rhonda said quietly, “I could do this on my own if I had to.”

“It’s bad enough to send you back in here at all,” Wade shook his head, “Nobody’s saying you aren’t tough, but everyone’s got their limits.”

“How long do you have?” her voice cut out in her hoarse whisper, like a phone call with a bad connection.

Wade shrugged, “At least a few days, we’ll be fine.”

Her eyes widened in dread. Before she could answer, the guard yelled a few feet away from them, “INMATES! Cells! Now.”

Wade squared his shoulders and turned on the charm with a fake English accent, “Ah, concierge! Show us to our rooms please, we’ve only just arrived.”

The officer gripped his cattle prod, a warning. Then he waved his hand to usher them along. They shuffled up some stairs, steps echoing through the concrete cavern. He led them to their cell block and stopped at one cell that was occupied by what looked like a werewolf with terrible mange. “You’re in here,” he shoved Wade in.

The realization that they were separating made Rhonda’s heart leap into her throat, veins turning cold.

If Wade was worried, he didn’t let it show. He waved, “Bye, bestie! See you in the morning!”

Somehow, she forced herself to nod and allowed the guard to herd her further down the row to her cell. Someone was in there, but it was too dark to see who; the lights were busted in that cell. There was something cruel in the way the guard chuckled, “Good luck, mutie,” as he pushed Rhonda in, right before the doors mechanically slid closed.

“I heard the rumors that Guestbook was back,” a feminine voice like crushed velvet purred, “but I didn’t believe it until I saw for myself.”

Rhonda sighed, irritated. “Hello, Mimi.”

[categoryhouse]

debrief - spideypool

After a rough night on patrol, Peter needs a hug. And Wade? He’s just happy to help. 

//

Wade knew something wasn’t quite right when Peter entered through the front door, slipping into the apartment with little more than the sound of the lock clicking back into place. Because, first of all, if there was anything Wade Wilson knew, it was that Peter Parker would avoid using doors as much as possible, if possible, and that, second of all, he was raised by his lovely aunt to always say hello, even to half-crazed immortal mercenaries.

A blur of blue and red, Peter was across the threshold and belly-down on the couch in seconds, hardly giving Wade any time to process what exactly was going on from where he stood in the kitchen. He’d been in the middle of putting together a quesadilla of epic proportions, complete with seven cheeses, three different salsas, a lovely homemade pico de gallo, and chicken prepared three ways, and had to force himself away from the glorious creation to see what was going on with his favourite spider-themed super-buddy.

Peter, flattened against the black leather of the den’s couch, didn’t even lift his head when Wade approached, his features hidden behind the Spiderman mask.  Alongside two discarded webshooters was a box of takeaway Chinese that must’ve been on the couch before Peter had come, its day-old contents seeping into the mostly clean carpet Wade had just put in. And had just had cleaned, in an effort to make the other man more comfortable when he was around- which, lately, was pretty damn often. Wade didn’t mind the mess, so used to living in it himself that he stepped over the spilled food without another thought.

“Hey, Petey-boy,” He drawled, uncertainty heavy in his voice. Peter didn’t react that time either, his body endlessly tense, curling in on itself. The taste of dread lay thick on his tongue, not used to seeing the usually-charismatic man so unresponsive. A catatonic Spidey was a sad Spidey, and Wade didn’t like it one bit. “Not that I don’t like you all folded up on my couch, but uh, everything alright?”

No answer- not verbal, not physical. Still as the dead, save for the steady rise and fall of his chest.

“Okie dokie, uh,” Wade whistled, nudging Peter’s spandex-clad legs over a couple of inches and taking a seat. The old piece of furniture squeaked unhappily. “Not alright, I mean, I could tell- you’re a creature ‘a habit, baby boy. Never ever come in without showin’ mama a little love.”

And, if it’d been anyone else curled up on his couch, in the middle of the night, refusing to answer him or even like, look up at him (although the looking part was excusable, Wade knew he wasn’t exactly the prettiest apple in the orchard), there’d be no doubt that he’d beat the shit out of them until they showed some damn respect. But this was Peter, and Wade would do anything for Peter because honestly? Peter made him better. Without Peter around, he’d probably just go back to his old ways, killing for nothing, making money that meant nothing, being with people that made him feel nothing.

Wade had become too accustomed to somtimes feeling good to go back to that, didn’t want to resort to existing in that way ever again. He wasn’t a changed man, not completely, but Peter had him well on his way to something better, something worthy of being around someone like Peter Parker. Almost.

Unlike Peter, Wade wasn’t in his suit, opting for a more comfortable getup consisting of sweats and a pullover, and for a moment, he felt too naked, too exposed to be physically comforting the other man. But the moment passed, mostly without issue, and he brought his hand forwards to press against Peter’s thigh, the lean muscle beneath his fingertips perpetually tense. Touching Peter should’ve been weird or unwelcome or something, but for the last couple of months, Peter had been surprisingly okay with Wade’s touch, be it on patrol or during game nights or whenever, really.

They were more physical with each other than two friends should have been, Wade knew, the distance between them non-existent on most days. It had taken him a while to warm up, but Peter was a hands-on type of guy that, and if possible, would almost always have some part of his body touching Wade’s, whether through light brushes of their forearms as they ate together or with legs tangled together during movie nights. If Wade were being honest with himself, the fact that Peter not only accepted, but encouragedthe physicality made his heart soar and his brain ache.

They weren’t a thing, was the thing, and it wasn’t that Wade didn’t want them to be - God knows how far from the truth that was - but Peter had always been so against it all, right from when they’d first met. Wade hadn’t really expected anything less, his status as the famously dreadful Deadpool not exactly charming to most people, much less someone as morally-rigid as Spiderman.

Really, there weren’t many reasons Wade could come up with as to why Spiderman had spent so much time with him those first few months, why he’d revealed his face and name and personality within the year. He wasn’t complaining, wouldn’t ever complain that the most perfect mutant being on the planet hung around, but he’d be lying if he denied that it confused him relentlessly.

Yet, after a long while of further curling in on himself, Peter eventually began to lean into Wade’s touch, his joints loosening incrementally. He didn't truly move, but Wade could feel the weight of Peter’s thigh gradually increasing against his palm.

“That’s it, Pete, I’m right here,” He chattered, sliding his hand up until it cupped the sharp edge of a hip bone, “Wanna tell mean ol’ Deadpool who he’s gotta slaughter for makin’ you so sad?”

It was a joke, really, he didn’t mean it- Spidey hated when he killed people so he’d sworn the practice off (so long as it wasn’t absolutely necessary), but Peter flinched nonetheless, an almost undetectable movement that he wouldn’t have been able to notice had he not been so close.

Lowering his voice, Wade tightened his grip on Peter, something guilty and metallic ringing in his ears as he spoke. “You know I didn’t mean that, hun. Tryin’ to make you feel better, can’t stand to think that those pretty lips are pouting under that mask’a yours. Could be doing something else, I reckon, bet ya if we just-”

Peter’s abrupt and muffled-beyond-comprehension voice interrupted his ramble, quiet and hardly a whisper, but there nevertheless.

“I can’t hear you, Pete, gotta sit up, maybe take that mask off or somethin’, you’re mumbling and gagging yourself on the couch isn’t helping. But y’know, if you want a gag that’ll really do ya some good I’ve got a couple of things we could use in the bedroom, if you catch my drift?”

Relief swept along Wade’s spine as Peter moved ever so slightly, head turning just enough so that his masked face became visible.

Scratchy and wet, Peter’s voice cut through the dim room like a dagger. “Whole dorm full of kids went up in flames.” He paused, dragged his head against the couch’s arm to hike up the mask just enough to free his lips. “Couldn’t save them all.”

And- oh, did the anguish in Peter’s tone strike a chord deep in Wade’s psyche, bringing memories of young children he didn’t get to in time, couldn’t protect, hadn't saved into his field of vision. Years on a job where saving people wasn’t the priority had taught him to cope with the loss and get over it, but kids had always been different, more difficult. He couldn’t remember most of their names or even their faces, and yet the pain throbbed on anyways.

“I’m so sorry, Pete.” Wade murmured, abandoning his uncertainties to reach over and grab at Peter’s inward shoulders. With little effort he pulled the other man up and against his chest, gathering his limbs tightly in his arms. He didn’t risk saying anything else- Wade hadn’t always been the smartest when it came to talking but he knew that nothing else he could say would be beneficial to Peter. This wasn’t the first time Peter had fallen into despair after an unfortunate time as his alter ego, nor would it be the last. Spider-man, in Wade’s opinion, was the best superhero this earth had to offer, strict morals and arachnoid mutation and all, but his coping skills were dismal- the result of an overly compassionate heart. Peter wanted to rescue every soul that needed it, regardless of how impossible that was.

All Wade could offer was company, and that was alright. For Peter, he’d do just about anything, even if it meant silencing his infamously abhorrent mouth.

Some time passed without much movement from either man, the digital clock flashing on Wade’s cable box counting as the hours went by in near-total silence. The only thing interrupting their mute bubble were the faraway sounds of the city below, cars accelerating and voices rising because there never really was a minute in New York where something wasn’t happening.

At some point, Peter’s mask had come all the way off, Wade gently tugging the offending fabric off of the younger man’s head and tossing it behind the couch. Of course, Peter had let him do it, sparing him only a momentary glance before tucking his face into the junction of Wade’s neck without another thought. Skin against skin, Peter’s forehead against Wade’s exposed throat should’ve been terrifying, but all Wade could think about was making Peter feel better- and if that meant, for whatever reason, letting Peter get physical with his grotesque flesh, so be it.

It wasn’t until Peter began to shift against him, body restless and sore, that Wade made the executive decision to relocate the two of them elsewhere, if not for Peter’s comfort then for Wade’s own.

Indefinitely regenerating mercenary or not, Wade Wilson still very much got uncomfortable, and regardless of the adorable spider cuddled against him, he couldn’t sit still for that long without his back’s complaints increasing in volume.

“I’m gonna move us, alright?” He muttered into Peter’s ear as he tightening his hold on his back. Peter’s response came in the form of hands grasping the cotton of Wade’s sweater, dull fingernails ghosting against the scarred skin below with little reserve. Wade had to suppress a shiver as he carefully hoisted the other man up, needing only to support the light frame with very little effort.

Within a couple of paces, they were in Wade’s bedroom, which was really only considered a bedroom because of it’s furniture contents and not because Wade ever actually slept there or used the bed for much else other than getting off. Regardless, the mattress itself was some expensive bullshit he’d purchased in the rare case Peter ever needed to crash- something that had mostly ever happened when the other man found himself too worn down from patrol to swing himself home.

Peter didn’t react as Wade lowered their bodies down onto the bare mattress, their combined weight sinking low into the soft upper layer. “This okay?” He grumbled, maneuvering his limbs so that Peter was free from as much unwanted contact as possible.

It came as a surprise when Peter shook his head, a deft movement that made little noise, and reattached himself to Wade’s larger body, their points of contact increasing dramatically. Leave it to Peter Parker to deny a king-sized bed and all the room he could’ve dreamed of in favour of closeness with America’s ugliest bachelor.

“There, there, little spider,” Wade soothed, moving past the initial reactionary discomfort with the closeness to smooth his hands along the spider-man suit’s textured spandex. Peter, whose cheek was flush against Wade’s chest, only curled in further, his thighs slotting in between the larger’s, fingers knotted in the soft fabric of Wade’s sweater. Despite his constant innuendos and sexual prowess, not one atom in Wade’s being made any move to transition their intimate position to something beyond what it was. He was so far beyond wanting to disrespect or upset Peter in any way it sometimes scared him. Peter only seemed to move closer, press tighter, as Wade kept his hold steady.

Another beat of silence, and then; “I wish I could’ve saved them all.”

“I know.”

“They were just kids.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not fair.”

“It never is, baby boy.”

And really, that was all Peter needed- the acknowledgement, the unconditional understanding. There wasn’t anyone else in his life that could comprehend the grief like Wade could, that knew just how hopeless the losses could make someone feel. Wade didn’t push for conversation and he didn’t try to console him - he stayed and held Peter’s hand as he figured out how to cope with the casualties.

Neither were sure how long they lay together for, the dim room gradually lightening as the sun began to rise.

Peter slept briefly, his evened-out respiratory cycle putting Wade’s mind at ease. He was still too concerned to truly let himself relax, let his focus linger on the weak snoring of the younger man occupy his ever-running thoughts.

When Peter woke, the tension in his muscles had loosened considerably, slowly lifting with the crushing weight atop his shoulders. He reveled in the feeling of Wade wrapped around him, the warmth emanating from the larger man an indefinite source of relief. “Hey, Petey,” Wade whispered as the other shifted in his arms, head pulling back to get a look at Peter’s waking face. Even with his hair flattened to his head and eyes cushioned by dark bags, Peter looked gorgeous as ever as he blinked the sleep from his eyes. “How’re you feeling?”

Popping his shoulder without slipping from Wade’s arms, Peter smiled softly, the action nearly reaching his eyes. “Better, I think. Still hurts, but-” he tilted his head to the side, peering up through dark eyelashes, “You know how it is, takes a little while, always does.”

A grin and a sly, “Nothin’ sleeping with good ol’ DP can’t fix, you know,” earned Wade a smack to the shoulder, the other man rolling his eyes in mock-annoyance. 

“You’re terrible,” Peter accused, chuckling under his breath. The barely-there sound was like music to Wade’s ears, which had been deprived of Peter’s infectious laugh for much too long.

Without so much as waiting for Wade to respond, Peter closed his eyes and brought his face forwards to press his cheek to Wade’s, smooth skin easing against rough, sighing as the older man’s breath caught.

Wade could feel Peter’s jaw move against his own as he spoke, still-gloved hands reaching up and around his exposed neck. “No one else gets it but you.” Peter mumbled simply, ignoring the fact that Wade had yet to breathe. “I can’t thank you enough, for any of this.”

And then, lacking any distinguishable warning, Peter rotated his head just enough to join their lips. There was no hesitation in the action, nothing less than urgency and need in the way Peter’s grip tightened against Wade’s shoulders as he pressed forwards and waited for the other man to kiss him back.

It took Wade a moment too long, perhaps, to get over the initial shock and return the kiss, but when he was finally able to regain control over his body, he met Peter’s desire with that of his own. Peter hummed against his mouth, the pads of his fingers dancing across uneven skin.

Despite the arousal burning in Wade’s veins, things remained chaste and slow, tongues staying put as lips stayed mostly dry. Mostly.

Peter withdrew, chestnut eyes trailing the outline of Wade’s solid body. “Thank you,” he breathed out. Exhaustion settled numbly in his bones and his throat was dry, breath most definitely stale from the hours spent unmoving, so his words were little more than a croak. He ignored whatever Wade had to say next, instead opting to mold his body back against the other man’s, returning to sleep in under a couple of minutes.

If Wade had beamed for nearly an hour after Peter had passed out, he wouldn’t have admitted it, not even to himself. And if Wade had kissed Peter senseless when he’d woken up again, it really wasn’t anyone else’s business.

[blessed-but-distressed]

#FindEmmaSwanAFriend

Feeling left behind by her more successful, settled friends, Emma Swan moves to Scotland on a whim. Sure, she’s winning at Instagram, but something is still missing from her new life. Fortunately, her friends back home are on it. #FindEmmaSwanAFriend goes viral. Enter Killian Jones, reluctant columnist, who is on the hunt for his newest subject, and may just have found her. CS AU 

***

also on ff.net and ao3

***

Tagging: @katie-dub , @wholockgal , @kat2609 , @whovianlunatic, @optomisticgirl, @ladyciaramiggles, @the-lady-of-misthaven, @emmaswanchoosesyou, @ilovemesomekillianjones, @biancaros3, @cigarettes-and-scotch-whisky, @ms-babs-gordon  @ab-normality, @andiirivera, @fangirl-till-it-hurts, @onceuponaprincessworld , @natascha-remi-ronin, @kiwistreetswan and whoever else asks me.

***

A/N: Part 2 of 2. Hope you packed your crash helmets. This is a bumpy ride. Eternal thanks to @fraddit for holding my hand as I put this together. Maybe it’s not ready yet, but it’s spent enough time living rent-free in my head.

***

Killian

August W. Booth. Killian would never admit it, but he knew the name, even before Emma Swan had tumbled into his life. He’d remembered seeing it grace the spine of a book on the shelf of his old flat, back in London. He’d remembered asking Milah about it, and he remembered her non-committal response.

“It’s alright,” she’d said, flopping down onto the bed beside him. “If you’re into Americans who read too much Kafka travelling the world to ‘find themselves’.” She’d even done the air quotes, and he’d smiled at her honesty.

And in the months after she was gone, and he was left with nothing but her meagre possessions, he’d picked it up and read it cover to cover, in an effort to be closer to her.

But it really was just a book.

Killian didn’t want to ‘find himself’ on a Thai beach. Or follow in the footsteps of obscure European authors. Or even consume a questionable amount of hallucinogens. He had just wanted to wake up in a world where Milah still slept soundly beside him.

He’d donated the book to a charity shop on Camden High Street, along with most of Milah’s clothes.

He’d never imagined he’d meet the author. Or that he’d kind of hate him.

How to describe that first moment with August W. Booth? At first, Emma had been beside him, her hand held tight to his sleeve as they waded into the party throng. And then, with something that sounded like a choked sob, she was gone.

It was only when the crowd parted that he saw the spectacle for himself. Emma Swan, laughing. Damn near hysterical laughing, having launched herself at this bearded bloke in cable knit jumper. He’d barely caught her, but he had, even if he’d knocked over his beer in the process.

“Emma Swan, as I live and breathe!” The man, August, had declared, lifting her off her feet. “Have you gained weight?”

She smacked him on the shoulder, but her smile was still beatific, even as he set her back down. Killian had never seen that smile. Not once.

“Lost it, actually. Didn’t you hear? I run now. Like, habitually.”

“Now I come to think of it, Ruby did say something about that. But I assumed she was joking.”

Another smack. Another round of smiles as they talked over each other, trying to make up for lost time.

Killian was not a wallflower by nature, but something about the ready intimacy of their chatter kept him on the periphery, hovering awkwardly by a potted palm he highly suspected to be fake. He was just reaching out his hand to check when he felt a tug on his prosthetic.

She was dressed like Hilary Clinton, her blonde wig drunkenly askew. “Why’s your hand made of plastic?” she asked with all the tact of someone six vodka cranberries deep. “It is real? That’s sooo weird. Did you have some, like, terrible accident?”

Her accent was American, but much more the bubbly Southern Californian version than the one he was used to. He didn’t find it endearing.

“Hilary!” he greeted her with a forced smile, snatching his prosthetic back from her grasp. “Long time no see. How’s Bill? Still a complete cad?”

Her face was a picture of confusion. “My name is Hadley?” She looked down at her pantsuit, and then it seemed to dawn on her. “This is just a costume,” she explained slowly. “You know, for the party?”

“You don’t say! My apologies, Hadley. I mistook you for a woman of substance.”

It was not the most gentlemanly brushoff, but it did the trick.

Hadley squinted up at him for a few long moments, before tipping the rest of her drink down his front. “You’re a real jerk, you know that?”

He was, and he did. And thanks to her dramatics, the rest of the room were fast becoming aware of the fact too, even as her (seventh?) vodka cranberry seeped miserably into his shirt. He looked up just in time to catch Emma’s raised eyebrows as she approached, August following in her wake.

“Uh, do I want to know what you said to Hilary to piss her off?” she asked.

“Nothing she hadn’t already heard on the campaign trail,” Killian muttered, fanning his shirt away from where it was sticking fast to his chest. “I don’t know what it is about this party, Swan, but it doesn’t much approve of our outfits.”

Emma opened her mouth to retort, when a hand suddenly appeared in front of Killian’s face, attached to a weaselly-looking novelist.

“August Booth. You must be the Graham Humbert I’ve heard so much about?”

And he thought having a drink thrown over him would be the most aggrieving event of the evening.

“Killian Jones,” he corrected, delivering a slightly firmer handshake than necessary. “And I’m leaving.”

***

I feel like that could’ve gone better. ES

Are you okay? ES

Jones? ES

I’ve had worse things thrown at me than a girly cocktail, Swan. I dare say I’ll survive. KJ

Probably. But that’s not what I meant. ES

You should probably get back to your surprise visitor. He came a long way to see you. KJ

August is big boy. He can handle himself for a few minutes. Are you at home?  ES

No. KJ

So you’re walking around at large with a huge purple stain down your shirt? ES

Apparently so. KJ

That’s not weird at all. ES

How fortuitous then, that I’m not your problem. KJ

Wow. Okay. I guess you’re not. Fuck you very much. ES

***

It was a foolish idea. He had reminders set on his phone that pinged at regular intervals to remind him of exactly how foolish an idea it was. And yet, there he was anyway. Half a bottle of Captain Morgan later, standing outside Tink’s building in Newington, leaning on the buzzer.

The intercom chirruped into life. “If you don’t have a pizza, I don’t know you.”

He grinned, and leaned close to the speaker. “Margherita Cheese, extra olives.”

There was a pregnant pause. And then the front door buzzed open.

It wasn’t terribly late, by their usual standards. Barely past sunset, now they weren’t long past the solstice. And yet when Tink opened the door she was definitely wearing pyjamas. The kind one actually slept in, rather than entertained in.

Not that she seemed to care either way, tearing the pizza box from his hands with barely more than a nod in his direction. He followed her in anyway, and sat in her kitchen as she devoured half of it before coming up for air.

“Hungry?” he teased.

“My flatmate has us all on the Keto diet,” she shrugged by way of explanation. “It’s been hell. You know how many Greggs franchises I have to walk past on my way to work? It was only a matter of time until I cracked. But I’m glad it was you,” she crooned to the last of her pizza. “You were worth the wait.”

“I can’t decide if this is pathetic or adorable,” Killian mused.

“Definitely pathetic,” Tink declared, closing the box at last. “But you’re one to talk. You look rough as guts. And what did you get all over your shirt?”

He knew he should’ve stopped home to change first.

“Vodka cranberry, I believe.”

“Ooh,” she said, folding her hands under her chin. “The plot thickens. A deliberate attack?”

“It... may have been.”

She snorted. “You always know how to charm a lady, Jones. Until you don’t.”

“You never seemed to mind,” he reminded her, with a sly smile in her direction.

“Yeah, well,” she shrugged, before hooking a thumb in her direction. “Pathetic, remember?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he said silky, letting his hand come to rest on hers. “In fact, I seem to recall a rather impressive list of talents…”

Tink slid her hand out from under his, to slap herself in the forehead. “So that’s what you’re doing here! It all makes sense now. You’ve had a shit night, and now you thought you’d show up, and what? I’d take you into my bedroom and help you forget all about it?”

“No, I just-”

“Just thought I was your standby girl. And I get it. I really do. Lord knows, I played the part enough times. But, honestly, Killian, wouldn’t you rather be with someone you’re actually crazy about? Like, oh, I don’t know...” She tapped her chin meaningfully, “...Emma?”

Something inside of him constricted at the sound of her name on Tink’s lips, and he didn’t like it. Didn’t want to think about her, or any of it. To hell with them.  

“Who’s Emma?” he replied, leaning in again. “All I see is you.”

He saw the slap coming, but his reactions weren’t what they were.

“Hey, you know we’re friends, right?” she said, her words a direct contradiction to the stinging of his cheek.  “I know we made a mess of things, but I thought we could still talk to each other. What’s going on? Because you’re not here because you find me completely irresistible.”

“Don’t I, love?”

It was a last ditch effort, but she wasn’t buying it.

“No, you don’t.” She sounded a little sad when she said it. “So start talking, or your drunken arse is getting an Uber. And you can start with what happened with Emma.”

“Nothing happened with Emma,” Killian muttered, looking around her kitchen for a possible source of alcohol. Any alcohol. So consumed was he by the search he didn’t catch Tink spiriting his phone from his pocket until she was already back in her chair again, scouring through his latest messages.

He really should’ve changed his passcode months ago.

“Oh, yeah, sure, I stand corrected,” she said, sliding it back across the table towards him with a roll of her eyes. “Nothing happened at all.”

Anger flaring, he snatched it back. “That’s really none of your business, love.”

“It is when you’re sitting in my kitchen, smelling like a distillery, and looking to use my body to distract you from your problems.”

God, he really was an arsehole. No wonder everyone he knew despised him. At last his eyes alighted on a stoppered bottle of brown liquid tucked away on top of the fridge. He stood up to retrieve it, and removed the stopper with his teeth.

He ducked down to take a whiff. Brandy. Perfect.

He found a pair of relatively clean glasses in the dish rack, and poured a generous measure into each.

“Peace offering?” he asked, slinging one of them in Tink’s direction.

Her glower didn’t abate any, but she accepted the glass anyway, wincing as her first sip hit her tongue.

“Needs water,” she said, handing it back with a cough.

Killian dutifully filled it up from the tap, and returned to his old place at the table. Just his performing this small act seemed to soften her somewhat, because the anger faded from her eyes.

“Look, maybe I’m wrong, but I’m trying a new thing. It’s called: ‘I only sleep with guys who are actually into me.’ And you know what? It’s going pretty good. I don’t wake up feeling like shit all the time.”

There was a novel concept.

“I’ve been an arsehole,” Killian summed up.

“Sometimes,” Tink agreed, with a comforting pat to his shoulder. “But I knew what your deal was. You get into bed with a guy with a missing hand and another girl’s name tattooed on his arm, you don’t really expect it’ll work out long-term.”

Now it was his turn to snort. “Aye, I suppose I deserved that.”

“You did,” she said, with an unapologetic grin. “But it’s okay. We were both just biding our time. Me until I grew some self-esteem, and you until your heart healed over a little.”

He wondered if it had. The wounds had been there so long, cut so deep, he rarely pressed them anymore. Rarely tested the strength of the scar tissue that had grown in their place.

“Well then,” he said, raising his glass. “To your self-esteem.”

Their glasses clinked, and he took his first sip. The brandy was thick across his tongue, but warming. A little burst of liquid courage to ask the question he’d been turning over and over in his mind since he’d glanced into Emma’s eyes on that settee, and felt things start to shift.

“You ever feel like there’s some things you just can’t get away from, no matter how hard you try?” he asked.

“My parents named me Tinker Bell. What do you think?” she replied, deadpan.

“Fair point,” he conceded, suddenly wishing he’d never opened his fool bloody mouth.

Unfortunately, Tink was not a mind reader and she didn’t let it go. “Are you talking about Milah?”

It had been so long since anyone had said her name aloud, he couldn’t entirely stop himself from flinching.

“Yes. No.” He shook his head. “Not entirely. I just… I’m not sure there’s ever really any overcoming the fundamental truths of our past.”

“Fundamental truths?” she asked, confused. “Like what?”

“Like, for example,” he began, wetting his lips with another syrupy slug of Brandy. “Everything my brother has ever done in his life has been to distance himself from our father. He’s got the upstanding, family man bit down. He’s a card-carrying member of the bourgeoisie. But when push comes to shove, they still made the exact same mistakes.”

She cocked her head to the side, considering this. “I mean, there’s a genetic component to addiction. And idiocy, arguably. But I don’t believe in that ‘sins of the father’ bullshit. You are who you make yourself into. I’m not saying it’s easy to break the pattern, but it’s doable.”

Killian wanted to believe that. But he wasn’t so sure he did.

“I couldn’t,” he pointed out. “When I lost Milah, I-” The rum in his stomach roiled, and he wondered if he was going to throw up. He wondered how long it would take for Tink to throw him out after. But after a moment, the feeling passed, and he realised she was still waiting for him to finish his thought. “I… I was no different,” he finished, feeling foolish.

“So you lost someone who mattered to you, and you handled it badly?” She shook her head. “That doesn’t make you your Dad. It makes you a person with a heartbeat.”

Killian stretched his prosthetic out on the table in front of him, considering the shiny piece of hardware. His most expensive souvenir from the shortest trip he’d ever taken.

“It’s not a liability, you know,” Tink said gently, nudging his prosthesis with her glass. “The hand. If that’s what you’re worried about.”

It was. And it wasn’t. Drunken Hilary’s ill-timed comments had certainly hit their mark, but it wasn’t just the hand. It was what it represented. The very permanent reminder that he was no longer entirely whole.

Most days, he was fine with that. It was much the same as his tattoo. He liked having that proof. However tenuous. However painful. It was a tether to a time he’d been truly happy, and it was a comfort to him, to know he hadn’t imagined it.

Lately, he’d begun to wonder if he’d held on too long.

Tink had said so herself, they’d never stood a chance. That hadn’t bothered him so much before, because he hadn’t really been looking for one. At least, not with Tink.

“I think I fucked up with Emma,” he blurted out.

“Oh, you think?” Tink sneered, downing the last of her glass.

“I… definitely fucked up with Emma,” he agreed, tipping his head back to finish his own drink. It burned, and he let it. He deserved it.

This time it was Tink who reached for the bottle, pouring them another measure each. She didn’t top this one off with water

“To bitchy texts,” she declared, holding her glass aloft. “Ruining everything.”

Killian drank to that.

“So, are we past the denial portion of the evening? You like her, right?” Tink had that twinkle in her eye again. The same one she’d had when she realised the stain on his shirt hadn’t been an accident. Dirt. That was all she wanted.

“I… sometimes.”

Tink rolled her eyes. “Way to commit”

“She’s attractive,” Killian shrugged. “And I find myself... attracted.”

Tink blew a raspberry. “Oh, c’mon. I read your column. You are not subtle. You might as well start drawing ‘KJ 4 ES’ hearts all over your homework.”

“They aren’t that bad,” Killian scoffed.

“Really? Have you read the comment section lately? People ship it!”

“People are little old ladies with too much time to spend on Facebook between soap operas,” Killian responded blithely.  “I’m not overly concerned with their opinions.”

“How about mine? I saw you two sing an Elton John medley together, remember? That wasn’t attraction. That was fireworks.”

“It was stage theatrics,” he corrected. “Besides, it doesn’t matter now. She’s not the forgiving type. I’m not getting back in her good graces.”

“So why screw everything up in the first place? Jealousy?”

Yes.

Killian sighed. “A friend of hers is in town.”

“Like a special friend?”

“Like an old friend. Her oldest. She’s different with him. Happier. I’ve never seen her smile so much. I didn’t even know she could.”

“And you wish that was you? Making her happy?”

Yes.

Killian snorted. “She doesn’t want me.”

“How do you know? Did you ask her?”

As if that was something he could casually slip in a conversation somewhere. ‘Here’s your pint.. Oh, by the way, I quite fancy you and I was wondering if you fancy me back?’

“I think you’re forgetting she has already has a suitor.”

“Who? That Grant guy? They’ve been on what? Two dates? Two dates is not a relationship. Even I’ve spent more time with her than that.”

“Her friend certainly seemed to know all about him..” Killian swallowed back the bile in his throat at the thought.

Tink looked skeptical. “I doubt there’s much to know.”

“And I’ll remind you that this is all for naught, since we’ve established that I made a complete tit of myself, and she’s never speaking to me again.”

They both went silent at the thought. Tink refreshed their drinks.

“Well, then,” she said, offering up her glass for another impromptu toast. “Here’s to learning how to grovel.”

***

I’m sorry. I’m a complete arse. KJ

Yep. ES

***

Killian awoke in a strange room, his mouth dry and his virtue intact. It took him a moment of watching the dust motes dance in the shaft of morning light above his head to figure out exactly where he was.

Tink’s flat. It looked different by day. Shabbier. More lived in. He’d ended up on the sofa somehow, alone, twisted up in a crochet blanket into a strange configuration that would give him hell later. He was still wearing all of his clothes. Even the shirt with the cranberry stain down the front.

He could hear a radio somewhere nearby, giving a bleak update on the state of traffic on the City Bypass. Pipes shuddered, and soft feminine whispers punctuated the spaces between. The smell of burnt coffee grounds wafting up from the cafe downstairs, as the city woke to a new day.

He lay his head back down, and scrubbed at his face with his hand.

How many drinks had it been, all told? Eighty? Too many, he admitted to himself, as he surfed an accompanying wave of nausea.  It was time to find a new crutch. He wasn’t a student anymore.

“Hey, you’re up.” Tink’s voice was fuel to his headache, but her tone was friendly. He sat up to see her standing in the doorway, holding a giant steaming mug in her hands. The underlying tension of their usual morning after routine was gone. She looked comfortable, in a way he’d rarely seen.

“That for me?” he asked, hopefully.

“It is. Thought it might help with the, ah, sore head.”

It did. From the very first sip, Killian felt the fog in his head clearing, and life returning to his limbs. “Thanks, love.”

She nodded, and stepped back. “I was going to let you sleep, but uh, well… your sister-in-law is here.”

Killian nearly dropped the mug. “Elsa’s here?”

“In the kitchen. She showed up about ten minutes ago. You want me to send her in?”

Elsa. In Tink’s kitchen. Like his life hadn’t been strange enough lately.

“What is she-?”

“She didn’t say. But she-” Tink hesitated. “She looks rough. Kind of upset, you know?”

No, he didn’t know. Elsa was the queen of poise. She rarely let her feelings show, least of all to practical strangers. Was it Liam? The boys? Dammit, where was his phone? Had something happened?

He was already on his feet when Elsa rounded the doorway. And even with the warning, it was still a shock to see her. She did, indeed, look rough. Her eyes were red-rimmed and glassy, her face noticeably puffy. She’d forgone the implacable facade she carried with her into the outside world.

“I’ll just… leave you two alone,” Tink said, backing out of the room.

He took a few steps towards Elsa, and then hesitated. “Is everyone-”

“Everyone’s fine. Alive. Healthy. I promise.” She tried for a reassuring smile, but it did nothing of the sort. “Robin told me you might be here. And I’m really sorry to intrude-”

“Elsa,” he said firmly, grasping her by the shoulders. “You’re never intruding. What’s happened?”

She bit her lip, but a single tear still managed to escape, unbidden, trailing down her fair cheek. “You know, I was beginning to think he was cheating on me?” She rolled her eyes heavenward, like that might stem the tide.

Oh god.

“He’d never.” Coming to Liam’s defence was automatic at this point. A reflex.

“No,” she agreed. “He’ll lie, and he’ll steal,  and he’ll gamble, but he won’t cheat.” The sound might’ve been a laugh, if it wasn’t so bitter. So hard. “I know everything. About the money. Weaver. He called me at work, asked after the children. He knew their names. Where they go to school. He even knew the colour of Lachie’s scooter!”

Fear slid into his abdomen like a blade, sharp and cold. “He wouldn’t-”

“He won’t!” Elsa’s eyes flashed defiantly. “I paid him his money. I did everything he asked. Malcolm Weaver has no reason to come near any of us, ever again.”

It was a curious mixture of relief and anxiety, all muddled together, making Killian’s head swim. And somewhere in the mix, guilt. A sense of culpability. “I should’ve told-”

“No,” she said, eyes shining with renewed anger. “My husband should’ve told me. He should’ve trusted me, like I thought I trusted him. And he never should’ve put you in the position of having to lie for him. Or lie to your family. And your eye-”

Her tears were flowing freely now, and Killian’s grip on her arms tightened. “He’s an idiot. And he’s too proud for his own good. But you know he never wanted to hurt you, or disappoint you. You or the boys.”

“I know,” Elsa hiccuped. “But he did. Not because he made a mistake-” She physically swatted the idea away. “We all do that. But because he couldn’t be honest with me. That’s not the marriage I thought I had.”

“Had?” The way she’s said it, it sounded so… final.

Elsa swiped a sleeve across her cheeks, mopping up her tears. “I love him, Killian. You know I love him. But I can’t look at him right now. Anna asked me to stay. I’ll take the boys to New York for the summer. I don’t need them getting caught up in all this.”

“But you are coming back?” The lump in Killian’s throat had nearly doubled. As much as he’d resented being the black sheep in a flock of prize Merinos, he couldn’t quite imagine a life now without them.

Elsa smiled a dim smile. “This is home. And you Jones Boys, you’re home too,” she said, gathering him into a fierce hug. “And you’re always going to be a part of this family, with or without Liam. You know that, don’t you?”

It was an oft-repeated phrase of hers. Always trying to include him. Always trying to set him at ease. But it had never really rung true, before. He’d never been wholly convinced. They were a family, and he was an interloper. A squatter. He’d come to terms with that.

It wasn’t until he found himself crushed under the weight of Elsa’s furious embrace that he finally let himself see it. It wasn’t just Elsa’s bird bones that had a hold on him. It was her affection for him. Her love. The well ran deep, the force more formidable than he would have imagined. A sister’s love.

“Aye,” he said, letting his chin rest atop her shoulder. “I know that.”

They separated a bit, and she smiled her first real smile. “Took you long enough.”

“I’m a Jones,” he shrugged wryly. “We’re not the smartest.”

“No,” Elsa agreed, sweeping his hair from his forehead like he’d watched her do for Lachie and Callum a thousand times. A protective, nurturing gesture. Automatic as breathing. “And what did you do to your shirt?”

***

I am your problem. That is, I wish to be your problem. KJ

I confess: I was an almighty dickhead the other night. And if you don’t forgive me for that, I would understand. KJ

I made you feel as if you weren’t important to me, but that isn’t true. We’re friends. Good friends, I hope. I was angry at so many people that night, but none of them were you. You just got caught in the crossfire, and I can only apologise for that. I would like to do so in person, if you’d permit me. KJ

You give good apology, Killian Jones. But I know how good you are with words. ES

Not good enough, apparently. KJ

You know you made me feel like an idiot, right? For thinking we were friends? ES

We are friends. I’m just a spectacularly bad one, sometimes. I could blame the drink, or the stress of Liam’s secret, or Hilary’s tactless comments about my hand, or August not having a clue who I was, or even how fucking raw I was after sitting on that settee with you. But the truth is, sometimes I’m not quite the man I want to be. KJ

Maybe you don’t want to be friends with someone like that. I wouldn’t blame you. But I also think you understand, perhaps better than anyone, why we push people away without really meaning to. KJ

A little fucked up. A little scared. KJ

I understand. ES

I mean, I’m still kind of pissed. ES

But I get it. ES

Pint? KJ

Busy. I’m babysitting a novelist, remember? They’re very high maintenance. ES

Bring him along. Don’t you think it’s about time he learned of the wonder that is Open Mic Night? They moved it to Friday this week. KJ

Oh no. That can only end in heartbreak. ES

Heartbreak Hotel ;-) KJ.

Maybe next time, Jones. ES

I look forward to it, Swan. KJ

***

Emma and her novelist never made an appearance at Open Mic Night, though Killian spent half the night watching the door anyway. Not the entire night, mind. Robin was being far too entertaining for that.

His bereaved, beloved Robin, who’d taken the stage and was attempting a version of Wild Thing complete with a series of hip gyrations which made Eddie Vedder’s relationship with his microphone stand seem chaste.

A courtship display if Killian had ever seen one. All directed at the brunette in the front row, who looked decidedly more like the university administrator she was than Killian remembered last time he’d seen her. As Wonder Woman. Out of costume, she was better recognised as Regina Mills, University Vice-Chancellor.

Apparently they were dating now. And things were going well.

He could only confess to a little jealousy. Robin, more than anyone he knew, deserved a little happiness. Though when things started to get hot and heavy after Robin’s encore, Killian was only too happy to make his excuses.

***

Returning home to the big empty house in Merchiston brought mixed feelings. Killian still preferred his bed to the medieval torture device which was Tink’s sofa, but there was something unnerving about the place with the boys gone. Without laughter, or chaos, or the 60% chance of treading on a stray Lego brick with your bare feet at any given moment.

He was almost disappointed when he made it down the hallway unscathed in the dark. Right up until the moment he switched on his bedroom light, and found a dark clad figure standing directly before him.

His scream was not particularly masculine. Not as he stumbled backwards, and not as he picked up the nearest object and threw it with all of his might at his would-be attacker.

The boot caught the figure upside the head, hard enough to have him swearing. By the second string of curses, Killian realised his mistake.

“Bloody hell, Liam. Do you have a death wish?” he asked, dropping the second boot and coming to his brother’s side. “I thought I was about to meet my fucking maker.”

“My. Mistake,” Liam ground out through gritted teeth, hands still clutched to his head where Killian had struck his blow. Liam didn’t have to ask who he’d mistaken him for. Even after Elsa’s intervention, the spectre of Weaver’s goons loomed large in their imaginations.

And that’s when he saw it, lying on the rug where it had fallen during their altercation. The Galaxy bar.

Liam’s eyes followed his gaze, crinkling slightly despite his pain. “Happy St Killian’s Day, little brother.”

***

-KJ has sent you a document file-

What’s this? ES

I’m sure even you can recognise a Word document when you see one, Swan. KJ

I mean, why am I getting it? You’ve never sent me a copy of your column before it’s published before. ES

I’m trying something new. It’s called ‘consideration for other people’s feelings’. KJ

Huh. Seems kind of out of character for you. ES

I probably deserved that. KJ

You definitely did. ES

This column touches on some… more sensitive topics. I’d feel more comfortable having your approval before I took it to Liam. Would you please indulge me? KJ

Fiiiine. ES

... ES

Um. Wow. ES

Too personal. Understood. Consider it vanquished. KJ

No! I mean, yeah, it’s personal. But it’s… real. I never really… It’s good, Killian. And if Liam doesn’t have a problem with it, then I don’t have a problem with it. ES

You’re positive? Once I post this, there’s no taking it back. KJ

Positive. ES

As you wish. KJ

[guardiandae]

Meta/Commentary Part 1: A Little ‘XO’ Wouldn’t Go Amiss

(Spoilers below)

Wade finally learned his roomie's real name on day two, when the proposed nickname of 'Priscilla' was rejected via stabbing.

"Y'know- I usually know a guy's name before I let him penetrate me," Wade joked, gritting through the pain.

"My name is Nathan Summers. You can call me Nate. Or you can shut your whore mouth."

I’m gonna say this right now so when I finally finish the sequel of this fic, nobody can cry foul or anything or pretend that I didn’t plan everything all along from the very start of this journey: There’s a reason why Nate stabbed Wade and it’s not just to be an edgelord. This fic starts written in Wade’s POV and then switches to Nate’s, and there is so much more info revealed from Nate’s perspective that changes how interactions are colored. In the sequel, it’s not written in that style but eventually you will understand Nate’s POV and be able to look back on this (and other moments) and be like, Ah. I spent a few months just agonizing over this fic planning. The levels of depth going on here, you don’t know.

Also it’s hilarious because, the movie never really establishes Cable’s real name so hi, it’s Nathan Summers. Scott Summers’ (Cyclops)’s son, but like... older than him because future and time traveling hijinks or whatever. This is only important because like, daddy issues.

-

technically they were even sleeping together, even if Nate slept in the only bedroom because he'd called dibs and Wade slept on the couch in a pile of fast food wrappers.

Denial.

Living with Nate was weird after living with Vanessa for so long. No more kisses -- not like he wanted any.

Denial!

-

Usually when Wade got home, Nate was never there.  Hours later when Nate did come back, he'd just go to bed. Other times, Wade was hired for jobs that took days of travel to complete. There was little interaction between them and they barely saw each other, so Wade took to leaving little notes behind.

[Went to get milk. And also to put a cap in someone's ass. He's a bad guy though, so don't worry. I'll be home late. xoxo] [Forgot the milk. Also didn't cap the guy so I didn't get paid. Can you pick some up while you're out? xoxo]

So much info in one little spot. Nate only sees them as roommates, as a living arrangement and tenuous partnership to serve as an end to both of their needs. Nate has a place to live, and his only responsibility, as we learn in his POV, is to pay the rent on Wade’s behalf, with Wade’s money, because Wade is a disaster and his memory is getting worse. Not only is Wade just an annoying person who can’t take anything seriously, in his incorrect opinion, but there’s that level of guilt for feeling like a freeloader when Nate is the kind of person who’s had to fight just to survive his entire life. Wade’s little notes are so sweet, but to Nate, 1. weird 2. is this a joke? 3. stop reminding me of how much you care and meanwhile i can barely bring myself to write a note back, aaaaaa

I need to remember to revive the note-leaving between them in the sequel. It’s too cute, I can’t stand it.

-

Mercenary jobs had become harder to come by, and then work dried up. It was almost like nobody wanted to pay a guy to kill people anymore. As if there could ever be a shortage of people in the world who needed to die. But when one door closes, another opens -- everywhere he went, he suddenly saw slews of missing persons flyers. Wade had never noticed how many there were before, but he took it as a sign. He'd always wanted to try his hand at being a P.I. and Wade hadn't realized that the market was booming with families desperate to find loved ones. He offered his services as a private dick to several different people, but every single case was unsolvable. It was like they'd just vanished into thin air, but he knew that wasn't possible. It was frustrating to realize he was such a lousy dick.

Spoilers, but this is when the Thanos snap happens, and Wade is completely oblivious. Could someone who can be so devastatingly observant really be so obtuse? Or is his mind just protecting itself from such an incomprehensible reality that everyone else is suddenly saddled with? These are things Nate wonders later as well. Even I don’t know for sure. (I haven’t watched End Game and there’s still more plotline to tackle during the Snap, don’t @ me about how Marvel did it, I don’t know and I don’t care, I have my own plans)  (By the way, characters will either be snapped or inexplicably alive, and that’s not a plot hole, that’s the joke. Welcome to Marvel, the writers never fucking make sense and I don’t have to either, YEET)

[Someone tried to sell a metal arm on the black market????!! It better be Bucky's and not yours. Not like I care.] [It was Bucky's.]

Rip Buckkyyyyyy lmaooo

But also, cryyyy because Nate is busy trying to help deal with absolute fucking chaos and he didn’t really stop to consider whether Wade would be wondering what happened to him. Ow. Yeah, I think Wade definitely subconsciously registered what happened and is in total denial of reality. It’s better that way. Nobody fucking tell him.

-

There was nothing that he hated more than being ignored. Might as well just talk to himself. Which he did a lot of lately.

Foreshadowing.

-

All of the warmth left his body at once, leaving him a little breathless and dizzy. He was vaguely aware of Nate looking at him, but it was less of a 'you're home' and more of a ' why are you here?'

This whole area of the fic hurts so good because I’m gay and I love drama.

Wade coming home, literally bleeding to death on the inside and in shock because, once again, everything went to shit for him, story of his life. And he sees Nate just there, dressed down, relaxed, and has this little flash of domestic happiness because he so desperately wishes that the domestic happiness was real and that Nate actually was waiting for him and happy to see him come home, and the hard snap back to reality where Nate doesn’t even like him is soooo fucking painful lol end me. And on top of that, he misread Nate’s concern as hate/disgust for him bc that’s what he’s used to, and then he passes out on the floor and wakes up with Nate over him because I’m gay and I love drama!!!!

-

"Wade, you died for a second," Nate told him. Wade couldn't quite tell if Nate was concerned for him or just annoyed. "I had to pull a piece of metal pipe from your chest. Can you tell me what happened?"

"I got a… pipe in my chest," Wade said, pausing for breath. His lungs felt wet and heavy. He should've left the pipe in.

"Very illuminating," Nate deadpanned, letting go. "Anything else I should know?"

This moment where Nate is so very fucking concerned for Wade, but then Wade cracks a weak joke, because that’s how he copes, and Nate is like, wow, fuck it, so much for being worried about you.

[[SCREAMS IN GAY.]]

-

These thoughts didn't feel like his own, even though they had his voice. His mind was always scattered, full of thoughts that flowed nonstop like a babbling brook. Sometimes it took a lot of conscious effort to reign himself in and make sense of his own head. But these just popped out of nowhere, in bold print, in boxes that were separate from everything else.

"Am I going nuts?" he wondered aloud, whispering to himself, because honestly, he was a little afraid of his own head right now.

(A little late to be asking that.)

And this is when the ‘boxes’ manifest for Wade. But in this fic, the voices that manifest in his head are his own intrusive, negative thoughts. The depression, the loneliness, the self-hatred, the belief and fear that Nate hates him too.

-

I’m gonna recap vs a full copy and paste because the next bit is long:

-Wade is coughing up blood clots from his lungs in the morning, or trying to. -Nate is disgusted but also sympathetic and offers to help Wade out. -A really layered conversation occurs.

“Maybe if I drown myself in the bathtub, the blood clots will rinse out. What d'you think?"

Wade’s exhausted. Joking, but also dead serious. Nate is concerned about Wade making such a dark joke, but he also can tell that Wade really is struggling.

“I’ll help you.”

“Really?” Wade is relieved Nate wants to help him, at first, but then remembers he just said he wanted to drown himself in a bathtub, and becomes disheartened again because he remembers Nate doesn’t like him. “Oh. Yeah.”

From Wade’s point of view: Nate just offered to help Wade kill himself, because of course someone would get a kick out of drowning him, he’s annoying, yadda yadda.

From Nate’s point of view: Wade isn’t okay and he offered to help him with his problem, because he sounds desperate and Nate doesn’t think that jokes will help Wade with his mental state, nor will the drowning actually do anything to solve the problem (the blood clots festering in his lungs).

"I bet you'd love to hold me down and watch me struggle," he said, still thinking about the drowning idea. Then, in a flirtatious tone, "I'll make it good for you, baby. Just promise me we'll do it face to face."

From Wade’s POV: He’s making a joke about Nate drowning him, but also making a sex joke to make it funny, to mock Nate if he really does want to drown Wade, so maybe he wouldn’t do it, or maybe it’d be weird and interesting.

From Nate’s POV: Wade is flirting with him, and his humor and still really dark and Nate really shouldn’t laugh at it or encourage that kind of thing.

From Wade’s POV, seeing Nate trying not smile: ah holy fuck he really wants to drown me.

"I don't want to watch you struggle," Nate said. If he did, he'd just leave Wade alone to keep coughing up blood.

"Ah. Consensual," Wade nodded. "Okay, well, I'd be open to some over-the-clothes stuff, and whatever happens while I'm still dead doesn't count."

Nate couldn't help but laugh. "I don't think we're having the same conversation."

Wade is continuing the joke, because from his POV he’s like, whelp, this might as well be what happens.

But they really aren’t having the same conversation. There’s more like, four different conversations happening at once. Wade’s very sincere idea of drowning himself as a solution to his problems, and Wade joking about Nate drowning him as a sexual innuendo.  Nate interpreting Wade’s dark humor as a shitty attempt at flirting that he neither wants to encourage nor outright shoot down, and Nate offering to give Wade a better solution to fix his actual problem.

And Nate’s solution is to use his telekinesis to just... remove all the shit from Wade’s lungs. But he didn’t communicate that idea with Wade before just doing it, even if he did ask permission, so that’s pretty shitty and hence why we had to add the ‘Nonconsensual Telekinetic Heimlich Maneuver’ tag. smh

"That was dubious at best and now we have to add a warning in the tags," Wade sighed. "Non-consensual telekinetic Heimlich maneuver…. This is problematic now. People aren't gonna click on this."

-

This is a good spot to stop for now and continue in another post.

[marvelhead17]

Miracle (Original Female Character x Cable Fic)

Chapter 2

Word Count: 10.7k

Inspiration song: Miracle - The Score

Disclaimer: All characters mentioned except my own are owned by 20th Century Fox/Disney. All songs and lyrics described and used in this story are owned by their respective writers/producers/performers.

Warnings to cover the whole fic: Graphic depictions of violence, use of weapons, mild to strong language, mentions of rape, mentions of pregnancy and miscarriage, referenced torture and psychological abuse/manipulation, nightmares and night terrors, sexual humour, sexual content.

Author’s Note:  The Italics used is this piece is sometimes in reference to Russian or foreign language used by characters. Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

Hayden opened her eyes and blinked against the harsh light beaming down from above her. She raised her hand slightly to cover her face and tried to get her other hand to push her upright, but it was proving difficult as she felt very weak and heavy. As she got used to the light, she noticed a woman in a white lab coat with dark red hair busy paging through some paperwork on a nearby desk nearby, her back facing her.

She finally managed to prop herself up after much effort, when a hand suddenly rested on her shoulder and gently guided her to lie back against the headboard, she winced at the stinging heat that came from the source of the touch; and when she whipped her head to the left she found that Nathan was standing over her.

“Get your hand off of me, prick,” she glared at him.

“She seems fine to me,” she looked to her other side to see a man wearing a singular red lens that was strapped from temple to temple across his eyes.

“Who the hell are you? Where’s Wade?” 

“You need to relax,” the woman finally spoke, her voice was soft and kind. “I’m Jean, this is Scott, and I can assure you that we’re both here to help,”

“Not the best thing to say to her,” Nathan warned, crossing his arms and taking a seat next to her bed. “And as for the tool, he’s outside annoying the others,”

She nodded and looked at the other two, “You work for Xavier don’t you?” she sighed.

“With him, we’re not his slaves,” Scott corrected.

“You may as well be with all the rules he has you following, talk about your Prisoner of War camp-” Wade said as he entered the room, he moved to Hayden’s side immediately, making Scott have to walk to another part of the room.

“Shut up, dipstick,” Nathan grunted, “Unlike you, we’re actually trying to help.”

  “Um, excuse me? Who was the one who brought her back after she collapsed?” Wade huffed in disbelief.

“Me, because you were busy shrieking like a scared little girl, and flailing your arms around like a complete and utter moron,” Nathan retorted.

“Technically by getting your attention, I did help,” he argued.

“No, you didn’t,”

“Well then, who ran the tests to see what was wrong with her?”

“I did, because I’m the qualified doctor and you almost broke the machine with all your button-pushing,” Jean sighed, holding the clipboard she had gathered against her chest.

“But then you pushed the right button, because of me.” he looked at Jean and she shook her head, “No? Alright, then who-”

“Wilson, just give up already,” Scott exhaled loudly and pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “Anyway…” Jean cleared her throat and walked over to the bed, “Hayden,”

“Hades,” she corrected her right away.

“Hades, okay. Well, I’ve been running a few tests on you to see what was wrong, and all I can really say is I’m stunned, I’ve never seen anything like this before.” she tapped the clipboard. “And I’ve seen a good handful of mutants with cell regeneration before you, but this, it’s unbelievable,” 

                    “When you were asleep most of your cells were collapsing in themselves, as if they were dying. Well of course they were dying, but… I’m sorry it’s crazy,” she shook her head. “Does this happen a lot to you?”

“Yeah,” she shrugged, “It’s nothing special, I just get stronger after someone, or something, stronger than me kicks my ass, it’s like a… A survival mechanism that goes into overdrive,”

“I see,” Jean nodded, “And you must know that your immune system is vulnerable right now since it’s trying to regenerate again,” 

“Yeah,” Hayden nodded, while brushing her arm to stop the sudden chill she had.

“So when Juggernaut tossed you round like a ragdoll earlier, your body started to kill its own cells, and knock you out in the process?” Nathan asked.

“Pretty much,”

“How the hell didn’t I know about this?” Wade asked, “Did it just slip your mind that this might be important? Even just a little bit?”

“I didn’t say anything because I didn’t think I’d fight someone that strong again, it sure as hell didn’t seem like a possibility,” she argued and now brushed both arms to warm herself up. “Why’s it so cold, can we turn up the temperature here?”

Jean looked at the others and they all shook their heads, “I think you’re the only one who’s getting cold Hades,” she put down the clipboard and then grabbed a thermometer, “Open your mouth please,”

“What? I’m fine, it’s noth-” she frowned heavily when the thermometer was put in her mouth, “‘ey, rude,”

“Don’t talk,” Jean instructed and Hades complied despite her initial complaining, she eyed her watch and after a few moments removed the thermometer and looked at it.

“I told you I’m fine, you’ll see for yourself,”

She shook her head, “Your temperature is already five degrees lower than it should be,” she frowned and pressed her hand against Hayden’s forehead, “It’s like you’re hypothermic, and yet, you feel fine?”

“Like I said, it’s happened before,” she rubbed her arms more, “I’m just used to being alone when this happens,” she eyed everyone for a moment.

“Right, well maybe we should leave you until you’re ready,” she pressed a button on the side of the bed and a holographic monitor flickered up above the bedrest. 

It showed a bunch of statistics including her heart rate, temperature and blood cell composition, most of which were already beginning to drop slowly in count as they looked at it.

“Is all this really necessary?” she poked at the heart rate section, a strange noise beeped out and she scrunched her face slightly, she was quick to grip the shirt at her chest, “Ow, ow- okay,” she breathed out, “Just a cramp, nothing serious,”

“You’ve got some nerve calling a heart cramp, ‘nothing serious’,” Nathan looked at her with a raised brow.

“What the hell does it matter to you, old man? Why are you even here?” she scowled at him despite taking erratic breaths. 

“Hey I’m the one who carried you here, remember?” he stood up from his seat, “No thanks necessary, princess,” he headed towards the door.

“Hey, I didn’t ask for your help asshole!” she sat upright and then winced immediately after, grabbing the side of the bed and gasped as her heart cramped again.

Wade soothed her backside and made her sit against the headboard, her skin was paling again and she closed her eyes for a few seconds as she adjusted to the new level of pain.

“Hayden, I think I should give you something to ease the pain,” Jean turned around and started scratching through drawers, eventually pulling out an unused needle and then searching through the various medications for the right solution. 

“It’s fine Jean, don’t worry about me,” Hayden raised a hand, “My skin can’t be pierced, and oral drugs don’t work either,” Wade snickered when she said ‘oral’ and she gave him a look before continuing, “Trust me when I say, I’ve tried everything.”

“So, how do we help you then?” Scott asked with serious concern in his voice.

“Honestly the best thing you could do is leave me alone,” she pulled another face while Wade sat down in a chair next to her bed, “Wade, I’m serious, you have to go too. This isn’t something you wanna see,”

“I think we have to do as she says,” Scott nodded and looked at Jean, whose shoulders dropped as she agreed with them.

“You know yourself better than I do,” she looked defeated, “But you will shout if you need me right?”

“Yeah, if I need you,” she flinched and rubbed her chest, “Ah… You guys better go,” they slowly made their way out, “I’ll be fine in about an hour, you’ll see,”

“You better be,” Wade looked at her seriously as he was standing at the door, she managed to give him a small smile and he returned it, giving her a salute before closing the door behind him.

                         Wade threw himself against the wall and slid down to the floor, groaning into his hands and then lifting his head when he realised Nathan was sitting across from him in the hallway.

“I thought you’d left,” he tilted his chin up.

“Yeah, well, got nothin’ else to do,” he grumbled, he was focused on cleaning out his nails with a pocket knife, flicking the dirt he scraped out somewhere else. “How’s princess holdin’ up in there?”

They heard a loud moan and looked towards the door, “By the sounds of it, not much better,” he sighed. “This is my fault,”

Nathan raised a brow at him, “Her cells regenerating is your fault how?”

“If she hadn’t come looking for me, she wouldn’t have gotten hurt in the first place,”

“She chose to come after you, God knows why,”

“No need to be jealous,”

“Jealous? The fuck do I have to be jealous for? You and your psycho lady friend can get yourselves killed for all I care,” he huffed and went back to cleaning his nails.

“You say that, but your eyes say something else,” Wade chuckled, “I know you like to act like the grumpiest fuck on earth, but you’re a softie deep-down, deep, deep down, under all that crust, and hate-”

“Dumbass,” he muttered, making Wade smile.

  Behind closed doors the monitors started alarming with various sounds, and Nathan stood to his feet without thinking, he barged into the room despite Wade calling him back and found Hayden curled up in a foetal position. Her whole body was trembling and when he reached her side she sat up too quickly, letting out a shaky breath as she looked at him, her eyes were barely staying open.

“Cable- the hell are you, you doing here?” she doubled over, her arms wrapping around her waist and he noticed her scars pulsated a faint violet colour several times under her nearly blue skin.

“You sounded like you needed company,” he placed his cyborg hand on her shoulder and she stiffened.

“Don’t. Touch. Me.” she growled and he removed his hand quickly, “Get out, now.”

“I’m staying whether you like it or not,” he sat down in the chair and crossed his arms, “I’ve seen that pained look behind the eyes before, you say you’re fine, but you’re lying so that nobody worries about you,”

She tried to laugh at him but ended up wheezing instead, “You think I sent them out to ease their worries?” she moved back onto the bed and gasped as her head hit the pillow, “I did it for their own d-damn safety,”

He noticed that her heart beat was slowing down even further, and her temperature was dropping rapidly, but despite that she seemed to have sweat beading on her face. He stood up and walked over to her, “Is there anything I can do?”

“Leave, you can just leave,” she tried to shoo him with her arm but was too weak, he took her arm and started examining it with his cyborg eye. “Hey, get off!” she tried to push him away and he stepped back, causing her to roll off of the bed and onto the floor with a definite thud. “Ah! Fuck!”

“Shit, sorry,” he bent down to reach for her and she deftly smacked his hands away, he then stepped back and watched as she took a few deep breaths, before reaching up to the frame of the bed and grabbing it.

“Would you just leave me alone? You’re n-not helping,” she didn’t even look at him as she spoke, instead trying to get her other hand to grab the frame as well. Once she was clutching it she tried to pull herself up, but the metal buckled underneath her grip.

It was starting to crack when Nathan moved behind her, placing his hands underneath her arms and lifting her up with ease, she released the frame in surprise and immediately crossed her arms once he placed her back onto the bed.

          “I didn’t n-need your help,” 

“Yeah, cause you had everything under control, right?” he sat back in the chair, crossing his arms as they stared at each other.

“Whatever,” she finally spoke up, and forced herself to lie back in bed. “Just don’t blame me for whatever... Whatever trauma you get out of this,” 

He sat up, watching her curiously, her eyes were blinking slowly and her breathing was clearly laboured, “Is this as far as it goes?” He waited for her to answer and frowned after a few moments. “Hades?”

  He stood from his seat only to realise that her body had stiffened, the monitor had been beeping and he hadn’t even heard it until he stood next to it, her eyes were glazed over, completely lifeless. He gave her a onceover, and an overwhelming sense of panic had nearly prevented him from thinking clearly, until he took a breath and tilted her head back.

He spread his hands out on her chest and pressed them down firmly, repeating the motion several times, he pressed firmer each time and gritted his teeth as he stood back. “C’mon kid,” 

He shook his head as the monitor showed no response, he did a few more chest compressions and then took a deep breath, lowering his face to hers and preparing to put his mouth onto hers when she gasped loudly underneath him and he jumped back in surprise. “Jesus!”

She coughed for a few seconds, trying to sit up before shaking her head and facing him, “What the hell were you doing?” she looked down at his hands which were still on her chest and he promptly pulled them away.

“CPR, you were dead a few minutes ago-”

“Yeah, I know,” she nodded at the monitor, and he saw the levels were going up, “Happens every time, that’s why I wanted to be alone.”

“Right,” he nodded along, staring at the monitor now, “So that’s it, you just up and die, then spring back to life like nothin’ happened?”

“Yeah,”

Nathan walked back over to his chair and sat down, looking dumbfounded, “I don’t get it. You’re not a mutant, but you’re a lot like that dumbass,” he gestured outside to where Wade was waiting.

“It’s a long story,” she swung her legs over the bed and started to stretch out her arms and backside. “What?”

“Shouldn’t you rest? I mean, I might be wrong here, but you did just die and all,”

“Nah,” she waved her hand, “I’m fine, see?” she pointed to the monitor and he saw that all her levels had returned to normal, he looked back at her and scanned her with his cyborg eye.

             “You really need to stop doing that,”

“Doing what?” he tilted his head slightly.

“That creepy thing, with your eye,” she gestured, “It feels like you’re looking under my clothes or something,” she shuddered.

“Sorry,” he grunted, “And for the record I’m not doing that. Do I look like a pervert?”

“Look I don’t know you, I’m just being wary,”

“After seeing you kick Juggernaut’s ass, you really think I wanna mess with you?” he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, “I’m not stupid enough to sign my own death sentence princess,”

“You’re still an asshole though,” she stood up and looked at the door, “I don’t know why you saved Wade, but it doesn’t forgive what you did in the first place, and neither does staying here with me, understand?” he looked up at her and sat back when he noticed her eyes had changed again, “And don’t call me princess,”

He only nodded as he watched her walk out of the room, and then he shook his head and frowned, getting up from his seat and leaving the room as well. 

                                                                * * *

After roughly two weeks the three of them settled into their new home, Domino spent most of her time with the children that had been rescued from the so-called rehabilitation centre, Nathan was slowly getting accustomed to living in their time despite his initial annoyance that everything required manual input on his part; while Hayden had taken the longest to settle in, she wasn’t used to living with many people except for Wade and Vanessa, and even then it was a brief stay, and she kept her distance as best as she could.

Nathan could see she was getting agitated by the littlest of things, she was clearly not sleeping well given the dark rings that had formed under her eyes, and whenever Wade tried to interact with her she would snap at him and tell him to leave her alone. He said nothing when she sat on the couch opposite him, she curled up with her phone and listened to music with her eyes shut, her skin would sometimes start glowing before settling again, and she would sit still for hours on end without speaking with anybody unless they dared to speak to her first.

Most nights she did seem to snap out of her trance and join them for dinner, and she became surprisingly social and friendly, but other nights she simply went to her room and only came out the next day to repeat the routine she had set. And since he started thinking about it, he couldn’t recall her eating very often at all, and he was annoyed that he couldn’t figure out how she was still even alive at this point, it wasn’t human at all, but she wasn’t mutant either as she claimed.

   The water rushed down around Hayden from every angle, she was trapped in a large tank that was quickly filling up and the air was getting thinner and thinner by the minute, every breath beginning to feel like it may be her last as she kept paddling furiously to keep herself above the water.

“Let me out, please!” she begged and tried to bang on the sealed opening with her fists. She could feel herself slipping under as she was losing energy, the gap was closing between the ceiling and the water and she was panicking. 

                  “Please!” she gasped for one last breath, slipping beneath the torrent, she managed to open her eyes and pressed herself against the glass to see her father, his arms crossed as he stared at her emotionless.

She opened her mouth to scream, only to realise too late that she was releasing the last of the air she had in her lungs, the bubbles escaped to the top of the tank and she choked as the water filled in its place. It wasn’t long before she lost her consciousness, the world went black and her heart stopped beating in her ears.

  Hayden gasped as she sat up in her bed, gripping the sheets in her hands for a moment, sweat was dripping down her forehead, she took a few deep breaths when she realised where she was, and moved off of the bed. She was unsettled for umpteenth night in a row, so she grabbed her go-to kit, and headed to the rec room to escape the nightmare that played back in her mind, at the very least she would feel less trapped in the bigger room.

She tiptoed past the other bedrooms as quietly as she could, as the floors were old wood that tended to creak whenever they were stepped on, and made her way down the stairs quietly. She reached the couch, sitting with her legs up and leaning forward, she put the earphones in and pressed play and then crossed her arms over her legs and rocked slowly back and forth. She let the tears begin to stream down her cheeks as she tried to breathe to remain calm, she ducked her head down and shut her eyes tightly.

   Nathan took in a deep breath before he leaned over her, his lips a mere inch away from hers, when they touched and he found that they were soft. Ridiculously soft, if it weren’t for the current situation he felt like he would linger for some time, he forced the air out of his lungs and into hers.

She was unresponsive, but it was rare that the first attempt would give immediate results, so he tried again, and again, and again. She remained still, lifeless. He moved his head back and looked over her features, her eyes were glassed over, the pain still reflecting behind the empty gaze, and her skin was ice cold beneath his hands that rested on her chest.

He spread his hands out on her chest and pressed them down firmly, repeating the motion several times, he pressed firmer each time and gritted his teeth as he stood back. “C’mon kid,” he leaned over and pressed his lips onto hers and breathed air into her before compressing her chest once again.

He shook his head as the monitor showed no response, he did a few more chest compressions and then took a step back and ran his hand through his hair. If he had just tried harder, if he had only come back to her sooner.

He stared at Hayden with hot tears that were fighting to fall from his eyes, her dead unblinking stare was focused on the ceiling. He collapsed into a nearby chair and put his face in his hands, his body shuddered as the tears flooded out.

  Nathan breathed heavily as he shook his head back to reality, sitting up in bed before standing up and then washed his face from sweat and hot tears that had shedded in his sleep; he dried his face with a towel before looking hard at himself in the mirror, his cyborg eye was glowing dimly back at him.

“What the hell is going on with you, Summers?” he asked himself.

He walked back to the bed, uncertain if he would be able to fall asleep after that nightmare, he sat down on the bed letting out a big sigh and rubbed his face with his hands. He closed his eyes and fell back into the bed, trying his hardest to block out all the thoughts that rushed in, but he heard what sounded like someone crying which caught his attention and that made him sit up, he tried to focus on where it was coming from.

He glanced at his alarm clock. It’s one in the morning. Who else could be up? He wondered, then he heard the sound a little louder and realised it was coming from down stairs in the rec room. His curiosity got the better of him, so he threw on a jacket and pants before he left his room to find the source.

  Nathan rounded the wall of the stairs and recognised the glowing light right away, it was a mix of white and dim violet, Hayden was holding herself tightly and sobbing on the couch by herself, listening to her music again. He felt his heart ache for some reason, but compared to the nightmare he had had earlier, this was preferable to see and it gave him a sense of relief.

Without hesitation he made his way over, sitting down next to her which startled her and she nearly screamed, but he covered her mouth before she could.

He quickly removed her earphones and spoke quietly, “It’s me, Cable,” 

She grabbed his wrist and yanked his hand away, and whispered, “You scared the shit out of me asshole! And hey, don’t touch the earphones!” She grabbed them back and bundled everything onto her lap.

“Alright, alright. Calm down,” he moved back slightly and she frowned at him.

“Calm down? You can’t sneak up on someone like that and expect them be calm,”

“Why are you here in the middle of the night?”

“Why are you here?”

“Because I was awake, and I heard someone crying. Now I’m asking again, why’re you down here?”

She leaned back into the couch, crossing her arms, “Can’t sleep.”

“When’s the last time you got a good night’s rest?” he asked, leaning back into the couch as well, she shrugged. “Let me guess, nightmares?”

She nodded, “Why were you awake?”

“Nightmares,”

“Why do you get nightmares, isn’t the future supposed to be some kind of Utopia?” she leaned her head back onto the couch, and turned her head slightly to look at him.

“The future isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, there’s a lot of shit to deal with,” he disagreed, “You’re young, so what exactly do you get nightmares about?”

“Present isn’t all it’s cracked up to be either,” the corner of her mouth twitched into a smile, “Been through a lot more shit than you might think,” she moved her head back and closed her eyes, “You know I’m not sure why I’m even talking to you, Wade’s the only person I trust,”

“Well you can stop talking anytime you’d like,” he suggested, hoping there was no tone in his voice.

“I guess you’re right,” she agreed and made herself more comfortable, “I didn’t want to wake him though, losing Vanessa has really hit him hard, as much as he’s been playing it off like it’s nothing,”

“I was the same when I lost my family,”

“Were you though?” she asked.

“I suppose he was more suicidal and I was more uh…”

“Homicidal,”

“Yeah,”

“To a kid, and I’m not judging, I'm just, connecting the pieces.” she paused for a moment, “I suppose I should be thanking you,”

“For what?”

“Coming down here and checking on me, you could’ve just as easily walked away,”

“Don’t mention it,”

“And thank you for going back and saving Wade, that must have been a tough decision to make,”

“As much as the guy annoys me, he seemed to be important to a lot of people, I was only doing what was right,”

“Mm,” she hummed. 

He leaned forward off the couch and looked back at her, wanting to ask more but stopped and watched her, her chest was rising and falling slowly and her face had softened from her irritated demeanour she first had. “Hades?” He gently shook her leg and she moved slightly, but said nothing.

He stood up and leaned over her, managing to scoop her from the couch and walked carefully with her in his arms up the stairs to the rooms, when he reached hers he approached her bed and then lowered her slowly onto it. He then took her blanket and covered her, tucking her in like she was a child, he stepped back and smiled at his handiwork. I still got it.

Nathan left her room and went to his own, and his eyes fell on the teddy bear that belonged to his daughter, he walked over to it and picked it up. He thought for a moment and then took the stuffed animal back with him to Hayden’s room, he placed it under the blanket next to her and held his breath when she stirred, only for her to wrap her arms around the teddy and continue sleeping.

He walked out of the room and turned around when he reached the door, “Sweet dreams kid, Hope will keep you company tonight,” he whispered before closing the door quietly behind him.

                                                                     * * *

  Hayden woke in the morning feeling well rested for the first time in two weeks, she frowned at the fuzzy soft warmth that she had unknowingly cuddled during her sleep, when she could see clearly she realised it was Nathan’s daughter’s teddy bear.

She sat up and eyed the bear curiously. So this is what normal children have? I wonder how old she is.

A soft knock on her door tore her away from her thoughts, it opened just a little and Nathan’s voice spoke through the gap, “Okay to come in?”

“Yeah I guess,” she placed the bear on her lap and watched as he settled himself on the foot of her bed.

“How you holdin’ up kid?” He looked genuinely concerned.

“I was holdin’ up, fine until you just called me ‘kid’, I’m twenty-eight not ten,” she raised a brow at him.

“Fine, but you’re a terrible liar, Hades,”

“Sue me, I just woke up,”

“Been that long since you had decent sleep, huh?” he asked smugly.

She sighed, “Yeah, thanks for uh, last night.”

  “Last night! What happened last night?” a dramatic gasp came from Wade who was waiting in the doorway, “Did you two fuck last night?”

“Jesus.” They both said; they looked at each other before looking back at Wade, and a small smirk appeared on his face as he glanced at her from the corner of his eye.

“You two fucked with Jesus?” Wade looked even more shocked, “Why didn’t you call me? We could have made it a party!”

“Because out of all the people you’re the most sinful shithead in the world Wade, Jesus would burn in your presence alone,” she shook her head.

“Ooh baby’s got some fire in her today,” Wade smiled, making him roll his eyes and move further to the edge of the bed when Wade decided to jump onto it in-between them.

“Watch it,” he growled, the soft expression and concern he had moments ago vanished.

               As if Nathan hadn’t threatened him, Wade had wrapped his arms around both of their necks and hugged them close to his head, they both squirmed uncomfortably as their faces squished against his, but Wade took no notice.

“Look at my two amigos getting along so well, huh!” he laughed, “We make a great threesome, speaking of, wouldn’t it be fun to-” They each escaped from his hold and grabbed his arms, before twisting them and hearing an audible popping sound from both sockets, Wade yelled at the sudden pain.

                “Ooh yeah Mommy and Daddy know just how Baby likes it-” They both dropped his arms and gave him a disgusted look. “What, just me?” He looked down at his limp arms and practically squealed, “It’s too early in the fucking morning to deal with this bullshit!” he stood up, his arms dangling loosely on either side of him.

“No, it’s too early in the morning to deal with your antics Wade,” she corrected.

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Nathan agreed.

“How the fuck am I supposed to have my morning masturbation now?” Wade whined as he swung his arms around, “Unless, Cable-”

“Fuck no.”

“Wade?” She stood up from her bed, placing the bear carefully on the bed and approached him.

“We have a volunteer!” he cheered.

“Eww no, get out, that’s what I wanted to say,” she started pushing him towards the door, and once he was out she closed the door on him before he could argue.

“And he’s your... Brother?”

“Honorary brother, a decision I’m regretting every day,” she sighed but smiled regardless, and sat down on the bed again. “I love him like a brother, but sometimes his crap is just too much.”

“You’ve known him for a long time, haven’t you? I mean to put up with all that crap.”

“About six years now I’d say,”

“And you still hang around him? How the hell do you tolerate it?”

“He… He helped me, let’s say, to escape when I didn’t even realise that I was in danger,”

“Escaped, from where?”

“Ironically I think I could say hell,” she forced a laugh, “Even after all this time I still get nightmares about that place,”

“It’s been years since I was introduced to this thing,” he gestured to the metal half of his body, “I still get nightmares from the day it was introduced to me,”

She nodded and tilted her head to the side, “Is it some kind of illness?”

“It’s called the T.O Virus, it’s techno-organic. Turns living tissue into metal tech, very deadly, very painful,” he raised his left arm and examined it. “The only reason this thing hasn’t killed me yet is because of my other abilities,”

“Guess you’re pretty lucky then,”

“Don’t think lucky is the word for it,” he gave her a small smile.

Hayden reached for the teddy bear and handed it to him, “You should take this back, give it to your daughter when you see her again,” 

He held it and stared at it for a moment, “If I see her again,” he cleared his throat, “I used the last of my fuel, might be stuck here for the rest of my days if I don’t find a way to fix the problem,”

“Oh, right,” she paused, “Maybe we can find a way to get you back,”

“Yeah, maybe,” he stood up with the bear in his hand, “Come on, let’s get some breakfast before Wade figures out how to pop his arms back in, it’d be nice to have a peaceful meal for once.”

“I’ll be down in a minute,” he nodded and left the room, she quickly changed into her clothes before searching her room for her phone. Oh that’s right it must still be downstairs. 

She put on a light jacket and then made her way downstairs, only to stop dead in her tracks as she saw Wade sitting on the couch with her phone in his hands. “What the shit do you think you’re doing Wade?” she ran to take back her phone, he dodged her grab and chuckled.

  “Nothing illegal, well if this were Amsterdam I mean,”

Hayden whacked him on the head with one of the pillows, which made him drop the phone in surprise and then she picked it up, “Oh God, Wade!” She dropped it and shook her hand, looking disgusted, Nathan crooked his brow from his seat at the breakfast nook.

“It’s just porn Hayden c’mon, I’m sure you’ve seen porn,”

“That’s a gross violation of someone else’s property.” Nathan said before taking a swig from a protein shake he had just made. 

She picked up the phone again slowly and frowned, turning the device in her hands, “Wait a minute, why is it sticky- Oh you didn’t!” she glared at him. “‘Phone sex’ doesn’t mean having sex with the phone Wade!” she threw the phone at his head, and he rubbed it after yelling out.

               “Keep it, that’s disgusting, I need to wash my hands with bleach.” She moved into the kitchen and grabbed the bleach from the cupboard, and began scrubbing her hands furiously, Nathan shook his head at Wade.

“Well I’ve learned something new today, how about you kids?” Wade beamed as he picked the phone up and pocketed it happily.

“You’re absolutely disgusting.” Nathan remarked as he took another sip of his shake.

“If you think that’s disgusting, what would you think if I told you that I once used your protein shake bottle as a makeshift flesh-light,” he said, “Boy, that was a good night.” He sighed happily.

Nathan choked and spat the liquid food that was in his mouth all over the counter, making Wade bent over clutching his stomach with laughter, he glared at him and his cyborg eye glowed brightly.

“God you should see the look on your face!” he clapped his hands, “Don’t try this at home kids,” he added seriously, looking in the direction of an empty space.

“If, God forbid, if God exists, he allowed a son of a bitch like you to live so long as you have Wilson, I should have left your sorry ass to die.” Nathan growled.

“Why yes I do exist, as witnessed by the handiwork you two have personally experienced,”

Hayden dried her hands off and shook her head at Wade. “I’m revoking your status as Honorary Brother, you’ve gone too far with the,” she shivered, “Flesh-light.”

“What, you’re not being serious? That’s not even the worst of what I could’ve done!” he whined.

“Did you even wash out the bottle after you abused it like you did?” she asked, crossing her arms and looking up at him, clearly knowing what the answer was.

“Erh… Does water count?”

“Jesus.” Nathan scrunched his face in contempt for Wade, and then threw the bottle into the bin. “You’re a pig Wilson,”

“Wade, water doesn’t- you know what, never mind that- I stand by my decision and you can’t change my mind,” she shook her head and then walked out the room.

Nathan left with a huff as well, heading straight to his room so that he could wash out his mouth, and mentally bleach out the images of Wade abusing his protein shake bottle.

                                                                 * * *

                 A few hours later Hayden received a new phone, with help from Negasonic on getting the package delivered to the right place, she wiped down the old phone before she transferred the music files and then gave it back to Wade; she was still quite annoyed with him.

But now she happily sat on the couch listening to her music, scrolling idly on the phone and ignoring the outside world, while Nathan sat across from her reading his newest copy of the ‘Guns and Ammo’ magazine that had also arrived. He disclosed to Hayden the fact that he had gargled a full bottle of mouthwash and wasted thirty minutes of his life getting his mouth clean of ‘Wade’, and she explained that he had one brain cell operating his brain and that’s why he did stupid shit. 

They sat in a comfortable silence, as both knew to respect each other’s boundaries, and something nagged in the back of Hayden’s mind that she shouldn’t get too comfortable as something was bound to happen soon. Cue Wade, who entered the room carrying a large and fully loaded box before dumping it loudly onto the centre coffee table and startling the two of them.

“What are you up to now asshole?” Nathan sighed, placing the magazine on the couch and eyeing at the box suspiciously.

“Well that’s rude Mr Potty-mouth considering I come bearing gifts!” he announced eagerly, rubbing his hands together. “Heh, come.” Nathan rolled his eyes.

Hayden removed her earphones and sat to attention, “What’s all this?”

“Gifts!” Wade grinned.

He looked at her, “I don’t trust him,” 

“Neither do I,” she agreed.

“Aw come on you guys! I’m not always bad,” he started to dig through the box, “Here, I’ll prove it-”

“Wade, I know what you’re doing, and if you think you can sweeten me up, I can tell you it’s not going to work, you understand me?” She walked over to the box and looked at it.

“But I got you a box load of your favourite chocolates!” Wade panicked and showed her the box before putting it next to her, he then unpacked another box, “I even got you microwave popcorn, the extra butter kind that you love!” he looked genuinely upset.

“That doesn’t matter Wade, you can still be my friend, but you’ve lost your title as ‘Honorary Brother’ for good. What you did to Cable was disgustingly indecent, and it’s embarrassing for me to try and cover for your behaviour, especially at that level,” she crossed her arms which only made Wade lower his head.

“I guess I’ll just give these and go,” he pulled out a smaller box and handed it to Nathan, who looked at it warily, “Just take it Arnold,” Wade rolled his eyes.

He slowly opened the box and pulled one of the items out, “A new set of protein shake bottles?” He noticed there were more in the box.

“Yes to replace the one that I- let’s say horribly ruined and leave it at that, shall we?” he rocked on the balls of his feet and looked between them nervously.

“Why?” Nathan asked.

“Because I’m nice!” he pretended to sound offended. “Oh, I almost forgot,” he grabbed a container and handed it to him glumly. “A month’s supply of protein powder to go with it.”

“Wow, that’s actually- decent of you, Wilson,” he looked at the gifts before him.

  “And I’m sorry,” Wade said in a mock Canadian accent, then cleared his throat after seeing Hayden’s expression, “I mean, I apologise for my actions, they were wrong and disgusting. I hope you enjoy your new role that Haydes is probably going to hand to you now-”

“Wade,” Hayden smiled, causing Nathan to frown, and wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly before letting him go, “You’re an idiot, you think I was really going to remove your title?” 

“You, you weren’t?” he sounded hopeful and his eyes lit up.

“I would never replace you, you’re a damn moron for thinking otherwise,” she shoved his shoulder playfully as she laughed at him, “I just wanted you to apologise for being a major prick, I knew you’d replace his stuff,” she smirked.

“You scheming little-” he smiled, “You’re definitely my sister,” he ruffled her hair and she slapped his hand away, shaking her head and putting an arm over his shoulders. 

“I think life here is gonna to be a lot more tolerable around here if you can manage to keep Wilson in check,” Nathan said as he took his items to the kitchen area, “But I’m still gonna to keep my eye on you after this,” he warned.

                                                                * * *

  Two months after moving into the X-Mansion Wade had asked Hayden to join the new team he had made, and after some convincing Nathan decided it might be a good idea as well.

A few hours ago Hayden had gathered the X-Force together and informed them of a militarised unit that was on their way to one of the cities nearby, and they quickly arranged a plan of defence, and before Nathan could ask how she had gotten the information they were leaving.

 “Oh no, you don’t!” Deadpool stabbed another one of the soldiers in the lower spine, he screamed out in pain before he fell to the ground, paralysed.

There were too many to count, it was like an infestation in the more densely populated outer dwellings of the city, the more they killed the more they seemed to be replaced.

              “Okay seriously where the fuck, are all these assholes coming from?” Deadpool yelled as he shot three soldiers down without missing a beat.

“I don’t know Wade, but right now we need to make sure they don’t get away with anyone,” Hades reminded him, she easily threw a soldier into a group that had come running in.

“Uh, we might have bigger problems than that right now,” Cable said as he nodded in the direction of a tank, it was wheeling through the tight spaces between the buildings and leaving serious damage.

“They brought a motherfucking tan, are they serious?” Deadpool sounded hysterical. “Who do they think they are?”

“A tank?” Hades turned to see the machine just as it stopped in the centre where all the chaos was happening; families were running in all different directions to evade being captured by the soldiers, now the panic had risen with the appearance of this display of weaponry.

The tank aimed its barrel to its target, Hades’ eyes followed the direction and widened as she saw the tiny girl clutching at her stuffed toy at the end of it, the hatch of the tank opened and a man holding a megaphone stood up.

“Attention all citizens, those who do not wish to comply and leave with us, will face the consequences that are about to be demonstrated for you now!" The megaphone clicked off and they heard him clearly yell, "Fire!"

The missile launched in what felt like slow motion and Hades' eyes flashed to violet, Deadpool and Cable turned their heads when they realised she was moving, but they were unable to do anything as they were too far away, she ran forward and leaped into the air as the missile was nearing its target.

“Hayden!" Deadpool yelled with wide eyes as he  ran toward the scene, Cable couldn’t feel his feet at that moment and felt frozen in place.

The missile exploded with so much force that it caused the parked cars nearby to topple over and left a fairly deep dent in the surrounding ground. Deadpool coughed and waved his hand in front of his face to clear away the smoke so that he could see clearer, and Cable shook his head back to reality and ran over.

They both breathed a sigh of relief when they recognised Hades' figure hunched over, she moved her arms away slightly and examined the girl’s face with heavy concern in her glowing eyes, the little girl looked at her in awe.

“What are you?” she asked, staring at Hades' eyes before looking at the glowing scars on her arms.

Suddenly the girl was grabbed away by a pair of hands which made Hades jerk up and stand to attention.

“You get away from her you freak!” the woman spoke shakily as she picked the child up into her arms and clutched her to her chest. “Honey, don’t ever go near people like that, do you understand?” The woman spoke to her child as she carried her away, the girl nodded but kept her gaze on Hades and mouthed the words ‘thank you’.

                   “You people are the reason they came here!”

Hades looked to the ground, her eyes faded back to their usual blue; she looked back up at them with a hurt look in her features.

“Bethany, she just saved your little girl, how could you even say that?” a man stepped forward from the small crowd that had gathered. “We don’t even know what those monsters were after,”

“Yeah, these mutants didn’t even have to come in and save us, but they did,” a woman added.

Cable’s hand reached Hades' shoulder and pulled her back gently as she hadn't moved away, tears were forming in her eyes and she briefly looked at him, before looking at the woman and her daughter again.

“We might be the real monsters, but at least we have some humanity,” Deadpool said as he joined the two, he placed a hand on her free shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "C'mon, we still have work to do,"

“Hey, look out!” 

Click.

                     The men stepped back with wide eyes as they looked at each other, each had a collar around their necks, Deadpool felt around his neck and sighed.

“Fuck not again,”

“Let’s go you three,” the soldiers led them away from the crowd that had run away in fear. 

Hades wasn’t paying attention to her surroundings and made no attempts at resisting their force, while Cable had been trying to shove them off but was shocked into submission and stopped when he realised there was no use; and Deadpool was compliant being in such a feeble state with the collar on, as the cancer came back to him.

“They’ll do perfectly,” one of them remarked, "He'll be pleased,"

They cuffed them just to ensure there would be no trouble and then separated them into three military vehicles, before driving out of the city into what looked like no-man's land.

  A good half an hour into their drive and Hades finally snapped out of her unaware state, she shook her head and realised she had something around her neck, she turned to look out the window and saw an endless stretch of barren sandy land swirling passed.

Shit. She looked around and a slight panic set in. Where the hell is Wade, and Cable? She touched the collar around her neck and looked carefully at the reflection in the window. Damn it’s one of those power dampening collars.

She shuffled in her seat and focused her attention beyond the separation between the guard and herself, seeing another vehicle just ahead of them, she focused harder to make her vision clearer.

Looks like Wade’s not far, they better not have done anything to him.

She reclined in her seat as she noticed her eyes were glowing violet in the reflection, and quickly looked to the ground in case the guard picked up on that, she clenched her hand in a fist and discovered that she still had her strength.

‘I gotta stop ya there buddy, I’m not a mutant,’ She remembered saying that to Colossus when they first met.

  Hades placed her hands around the collar and gripped tightly, the metal began creaking and she could feel something tickling the nerves on her neck, she yanked it off completely and it snapped in two.

“Hey, what’s going on back there?” the guard asked, he glanced back but she was not in his line of sight, and he sat up immediately, “Hey-”

Her hand broke through the thick glass separating them with ease and she turned her arm to hold him around the neck, it snapped it seconds like a twig and the vehicle started to slow a little, she quickly reached into the driver’s section and grabbed the handgun that was tucked in the guard’s holster, shoving it haphazardly into her back pocket, before she pushed at the ceiling of the vehicle and it popped open like a can.

She hauled herself out and climbed to the roof, somehow steadying herself for long enough to jump forward from the roof and tumble onto the ground not far behind the vehicle ahead. The one she had been in swerved off course and came to a stop, but she was already on her feet and running speedily for the next one.

She leaped and grabbed onto a metal ladder that was built into the back of the vehicle and then she pulled herself onto the roof, she crawled carefully to the left and grabbed onto the side before she swung herself through the window to get inside.

                   “What the fuck?” Wade gasped before he smiled, “You beautiful daughter of a bastard- how’d you get out?”

“Not a mutant, remember?” she smiled before she grabbed for his collar, as it buckled it sent out that tickling feeling she had felt earlier, but Wade squirmed and pushed her off.

“You’re going to kill me if you do that,” he wheezed, “It’s sending out electrical currents and shocking me.”

“It is?” she looked at her hands, “So that’s what’s tickling me, um…” she opened the passcode box on the collar and pressed the number seven, the collar beeped and shocked Wade again making him groan.

“I guess that you tried Domino’s code huh?” he asked irritably. “I told you that was lazy writing,” she rolled her eyes.

“We have a breach, repeat we have a breach.” The guard spoke on the other side of the glass.

“That’s not good is it?” Wade asked, she ignored him as she stood up.

Hades shattered the dividing glass and grabbed the handgun from her pocket, she leaned herself halfway through and yelled at the panicked guard in Russian. “You’re going to tell me the passcode for his collar, before I shoot you in the dick!”

“It’s, it’s fi-five-nine-four-two,”

“No, no, no don’t believe the asshole-” Wade whined as she started pressing the numbers in, the collar beeped and shocked Wade, “OW! Fuck. I told you. What did I tell you?”

She gently touched Wade’s cheek and smiled, “Sorry Wade,” and then turned her attention back to the guard. “Okay, we’re going to try again,” she clicked the gun and shot the man in the crotch, it bled profusely and the man screamed and almost swerved the vehicle completely off course. 

                       “And if you’re wrong again, I’m going to shoot you in the fucking head, alright?” she said through gritted teeth.

“You’re really hot when you’re angry like this,” Wade mumbled.

“Way to ruin the moment.” She sighed, “Passcode, now!” She yelled again.

“Eight-seven-five-four! Please don’t kill me!”

  She typed in the passcode and the collar deactivated, she smirked and tossed it to the side, she spun the gun carelessly around her finger, “Hmm, how about, no?”

“Wait, Hades-”

She pulled the trigger behind his head and the guard’s blood splattered everywhere, making the vehicle swerve out of control and rolled into a nearby dip, the pair rolled in the car and collided into each other.

“Ugh... I said wait woman,” Wade groaned, “We could have made him stop and then shot the fucker in the head,”

He climbed out of the now sideways vehicle and brushed the sand off of himself and removed his mask to pour out the sand that had gotten in, and then he extended his hand for her to grab, she took it and he pulled her up, she brushed herself off.

“Thanks,”

“What are brothers for?” he smiled before putting his mask back on. “Now where in the fuck are we?” He placed his hands on his hips and squinted.

She looked around, “That’s an excellent question,”

“Great we’re in the middle of butt fuck nowhere,” he gestured to the third vehicle that was a speck in the distance, “And the only fucking clue we had has fucked off.” Wade could barely contain a laugh that had bubbled up, and she looked at him in confusion. 

                    “Oh they’re so screwed, he’s gonna be a major pain in their ass,”

“Wade be serious,” she smacked him on the arm, “What the hell do they have planned for an actual mutant? We know they wanted normal people to experiment on like Ajax-”

“We agreed to never talk about Francis.”

“Fine, but I’ve a bad feeling about this,” the vehicle disappeared from view and she grabbed his arm, “Let’s get going, while there’s still light out,”

                                                                * * *

                        Cable had no idea how many hours had passed since their capture, he was alone in this particular room that they had forced him into, it was full of equipment that was clearly used for experimentation and he was strapped down to a cushioned slab in the centre of it. His wrists and ankles were strapped down by metal cuffs, and he tried in vain to struggle against them, he could feel the T.O virus moving on the infected side of his body and stilled himself. He knew the virus would only spread if he was moving, and with his telekinesis gone it had the opportunity to do it much quicker. 

A man was hovering around him, he couldn’t see his face but he had a feeling that nothing good was about to come from his visitor; another man interrupted his approach with news.

“Sir, the other two mutants- they’ve escaped,” Cable’s ears pricked at that, and he tried to turn his head to see their expressions, but it was difficult to move at all.

“No matter, this one is a prime specimen, once I’ve examined him I’ll crack open that lovely head of his, that’s where everything comes together,”

“The fuck you will,” he growled.

“Ah,” he laughed and clapped his hands together, “He has a fighter’s spirit, but let me not get affectionate with you. You are merely a project, you might just be a somewhat ideal design of what man and robot can be, but you are superfluous after all,” the man stood behind him now, unexpectedly quiet.

He grunted suddenly, almost biting his tongue, and refused to let a scream escape his mouth as something sharp started to slice along his spine. The new wound burned against the air of the room, while the blood that oozed from it cooled the skin, the metallic smell filled his nostrils and he gritted his teeth through the pain.

“It’s all so beautiful, the way that his cyborg half melds with his human half,” the mad man remarked, and then Cable winced as a hot wet cloth fell over his back, a somewhat pathetic attempt at stopping his bleeding, and he struggled against his restraints.

“I’m not your play thing you sick fuck,” he growled. “You can’t just poke and prod at me like some dead corpse-”

The man chuckled, “I can and already have, and by the end of this you will be just that, a dead corpse. I, of course, have no use for you once I’m done with you.”

The man started pressing buttons on his machine and he had an uneasy feeling start in his stomach, a buzzing sound erupted around him and he waited as someone began to fiddle with cables around him.

Another man had repositioned him into a kneeling position on the floor, as the slab disappeared underneath him, his arms were restrained above him, and his head hung as it was too much effort to hold it up. The cloth slid slowly from his back and he felt more of his blood start to spill out, some of it dripped onto the floor beneath him.

“Argh!” he yelled out as his skin around his chest was being pierced by cold steel, spiked steel rods to be exact and they were then fixed in place under his skin. “When I get out of this I’m gonna kill-”

A switch was flicked and he closed his eyes as an electrical current surged through his body, it heated his blood and made his mechanical half twitch beyond his level of tolerance while the muscles of his human half spasmed. He roared under the duress, closing his eyes and praying that the T.O virus wouldn’t take its chance to spread. 

The man was laughing maniacally as he watched Cable writhe about, before he turned the current on a higher setting, his laughter was cut off by a loud bang and the others were screaming. Cable took no notice as struggled to keep his focus, but he could hear them running around in a blind panic as shots were fired behind him.

“Wade, go and turn that thing off, now!” He heard a familiar voice order, “Let me deal with this piece of fuck.”

“Stop it! You’re ruining everything you fools!” The man screamed as Deadpool turned the machine off, Cable let out a shaky breath and struggled to raise his head to see what was happening, black spots appeared in his vision wherever he looked. 

“You’re just making this easier for me pal,” she forced the man to his knees, and rested the gun between his eyes. “I would’ve loved to prolong this, but you don’t deserve to take another breath you worthless piece of crap. I just wanted to see the light leave your eyes,” 

She pulled the trigger and the bullet went through the man’s skull and into the floor behind him, his dead body fell to the floor, and she hurried over to Cable without looking back and crouched down to his level.

  “Hey Cable, you still with us?” she gently touched his face as she made him look her in the eyes, he could barely focus on her face.

“Yeah,” He managed.

“Good.” She removed her hand and looked at the steel rods, before looking at him again, “This is going to hurt a lot, sorry in advance,” She grabbed the rods and pulled them out quickly, sending sharp shooting pains through his body and making him shudder. “Sorry,” she spoke softly, “There.”

“Um, Haydes?” Wade called as he walked over.

“What, Wade?” she asked without looking, now annoyed, while unbuckling his restraints. Once he was free he rested his hands against the floor, still on his knees.

“Did you get the passcode for Cable’s collar? Cause I sure as hell didn’t,”

“Shit.” she straightened up.

“What?” Nathan frowned between the two of them.

“The passcode was the only way to get the collar off without hurting you, but now I have no choice,” she moved her hands so that her fingers slid in the gap between his neck and the collar, he heard a creaking sound as she tugged carefully, “Sorry.” 

She moved her hands apart quickly and the collar sent a massive current through his body, thankfully the steel rods were not in place anymore, but his cyborg half still allowed it to linger.

                  “Cable, you alright?” she asked in concern, he barely nodded his head, his breathing was however staggered and his arms were shaking as they kept him falling to the floor. “Shit, you’re not.”

The next thing he knew was that he was off the ground, and the last thing he saw as he was blacking out was Hades’ violet eyes as she carried him out.

                     He didn’t recall waking up and making his way down to the kitchen, but at some point he must have done, because he was now sitting in the rec room on the couch and trying to clean himself. Hayden was busy eating something and had spoken to him but he didn’t hear her.

He winced as he tried to reach the cloth to the new scarring on his back, it had healed considerably through means he did not know, but his muscles still ached and he was struggling to do his task. 

Hayden sighed from the kitchen and walked over, “Give.” She held her hand out, he looked at her, “I asked if you needed help, you said no, and you clearly do, now give you stubborn old man,” 

He begrudgingly gave the cloth to her, “Did you really speak to me?”

“Yeah, like two minutes ago, you don’t remember?” she asked as she sat behind him.

He shook his head, “No, I guess I was out of it, sorry,” he mumbled.

“Don’t worry about it,” she gently wiped the cloth over the bloodied scarring, “You were lucky you know, your wound stopped bleeding somehow on our way back,” he was surprised at how gentle she was, both in the way she touched him and how she spoke to him now. 

“You reckon?” he turned his head slightly as she started to press the cloth, but eased up when he had moved, he relaxed a little and turned back. 

“Yeah, we thought you were halfway dead by the time we got back,”

He tensed when something small and soft pressed against the top of his spine where the cut started from his neck, although uncertain of what it was, his muscles relaxed again and he somehow felt more at ease.

“There, was that so hard?” He caught her smiling which in turn made him smile, before she grabbed the other small towel and gently dabbed the wound dry. “You know, any more blood loss and you would’ve been a goner.”

“Mhm,” He agreed, his eyes now closed as he was enjoying the moment.

When he opened his eyes again he was startled to see her sitting in front of him and she chuckled in amusement.

                   “What?” he asked defensively.

“Didn’t mean to startle you, just checking that you didn’t miss something. Infections aren’t a joke you know,” she examined his arms and lifted them before examining his ribs, he noticed her eyes glowing violet again and she got annoyed with his staring, “What?”

“Your eyes,”

“Oh, I just see better this way,” she shrugged his question off, “Alright, now let’s just make sure that he didn’t make you uglier than you already were.”

She cupped his face and looked over his features; her thumbs brushed his cheeks and moved down his jawline, his breath hitched in his chest as he waited patiently. He swallowed hard as he watched her eyes scan over every crease and scar on his face, and he wasn’t altogether sure why he was feeling as nervous as he did.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa what’s happening here? Didn’t realise I’d need to knock before I came to the rec room,” Wade’s voice filled the room, making them both straighten up in their seats. 

Hayden’s eyes flicked back to bright blue in seconds, her hands moved to her sides and she stood up. “I was just making sure he wouldn’t get an infection, dumbass. It’s easy for older people to get ill that way.” She cleared her throat before she walked out the room.

“I wouldn’t worry about her calling you old,” Wade assured, as Nathan watched her leave and his face turned into a scowl.

“Why the hell would I worry about that?” he grunted, making Wade roll his eyes.

“Alright fine, whatever,” he raised his hands, “But both of you can tell me I was right once you’re over the whole ‘yearning from a distance’ bullshit, and you two finally bone.” he shook his head.

“Asshole,” he muttered as he stood from the couch, he walked upstairs to his own room and closed the door behind him.

________________________________________________________________

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[rovvboat]

Abort Mission - Cable/Nathan Summers x Reader P.2

Part 2

Warnings: Angst, swearing, mentions of killing, confessions

A/N: PART 2 is finally done!!! (POSTING AGAIN COS TUMBLR LMAO) w some reconciliation ;))) Leave a request if you’d like for me to do anything on the two metal husbands hehehe! Keep an eye out for more Colossus based fics too cos I am IN the mood for them, angst or not! kekekek ENJOY!!

Words: 3.5k

Summary: Your team had been tipped off about a possible resurrection of an unnamed villain by Black Talon and his followers, which prompted a recon mission led by Cable. Your team heads to the location to put a stop to Talon’s plans, but the tension between you and Cable was driving you nuts - prompting you to put your foot down and do what was best for the team.

 The X-Jet came to a slow stop above the large rain forest; engine whirring loudly as the pilot motioned for the team to make their descent via the thick wire ladder. One by one the team – comprised of you, Wade, Colossus, Ellie, Yukio and Cable – lowered themselves down the ladder. The team separated into smaller groups to cover the two bases effectively, with Cable keeping an eye on the surrounding situations.

You were armed in your protective gear – military-grade green and brown camouflage pants with a dark green long-sleeved shirt - with reinforced fibers built to absorb shock and kinetic energy from long range bullets. You also had on a heavily-padded bullet-proof vest over the shirt.

The whole ensemble was heavier than any normal protective gear you would usually wear – the shirt specifically engineered for you by Cable with his knowledge of future tech.

The first stop for you and Wade was an abandoned military base taken over by followers of Black Talon. X-Force got tipped off by a trusted source that Black Talon was planning on bringing back dead but formerly powerful mutants as zombies; this coincided with the recent increase in reports of grave-robbers. Summed up, all this was no good.

The leaves gave way under you made your way through the trees. A stray ray of light filtered through the high trees, onto one of the corners of the military base – illuminating it in the process.

This would possibly be the worst place put a covert base. No wonder it was abandoned. You thought to yourself with a smile.

The base was of decent stature – two stories high, surrounded by vines and shrubbery in its corners. It was made of a kind of dark grey, matte-looking metal formed into a honey comb-structure. It was nothing like you have ever seen before.

The metal had all but rusted over all the areas that hadn’t been galvanized – namely the holes which housed screws and bolts, as well as the space between the honeycomb pattern – but it looked sturdy. Sturdy enough to hold a ritual probably. Wade suddenly motions for you to switch off your comms device, and you suspiciously oblige.

‘’So, tell me Fingers, what’s up with you and Foxy Grandpa these days?’’ Wade asked, as he walked beside you, absentmindedly plucking at leaves and branches. ‘’I don’t see the playful teasing anymore. Did he have some ‘performance issues’ during your fun little camping trip?’’

‘’I… He didn’t want to pursue anything further.’’ You answered, a little crestfallen.

‘’Woah! You really hit that? Good on you! But forget about him, I’m sure he’s just confused. Older – Sorry – Old men are like that. You’re a catch if I do say so myself.’’ He winked with a head tilt, before activating his earpiece and motioning for you to do the same.

You didn’t know how, but what he said was strangely reassuring. It was rare to see Wade be so… supportive and encouraging. You grinned at him, before getting back to the task at hand.

You looked back towards the building. From your distance you couldn’t tell if it housed any living soul. But you knew better than to assume that there wasn’t. You took your enhanced heat vision goggles and got to work.

‘’One… two… three… four…’’ You breathe in, as you positioned your goggles back on top of your head.

‘’Nine. I see nine heat signatures. What’s the move, Captain?’’ You reported with a quip, as you looked back to Deadpool. ‘’Do you seriously think using a pair of binoculars would work in this situation?’’ You added.

‘’NINE? Is that all you need for a secret sacrifice /slash/ ritual nowadays? And here I was, thinking there would be an equal numbered of virgins,’’ Wade continued as he tossed his binoculars onto the ground, ‘’But then again, maybe we’re providing the virgins. We do have Colossus and Negasonic – ‘’ Wade got cut off by the voice in your comms earpiece.

‘’Hey fuckface, could you shut the fuck up? We have patrol officers coming towards your location. Stay alert. Only attack if spotted. Maintain cover in the forest. Colossus and NTW, I need you to be ready in the case of a shoot-out.  Fuckface and Y/N, go in to investigate. Report in if you see any signs of Black Talon. Remember, try not to provoke them. We only need to destroy that main tower to stop Talon. Anything else is icing on the cake.’’

‘’Roger that.’’ Colossus responded.

‘’I guess someone’s got the case of angry grandpa.’’ Wade remarked, elbowing you. ‘’Alrighty, get on with the creepy mist, magic fingers. It’s go time.’’ He prompted as he waved his hands in a shoo-ing motion. You giggle lightly as you got to work with your powers.

You gently put your hands on the ground, your mind focused on all the water molecules you can feel in the soil surrounding the base. With one quick motion, you pressed your palm down onto the ground – increasing the heat in the ground and causing the moisture to evaporate. The resulting vapour engulfed the area, rendering poor visibility to anyone not expecting an ambush (AKA the dumbasses inside the base).

You and Wade slowly made your way towards the base. You made sure to tread lightly across the leaf litter and reached the corner of the base, crouching down in response to clinking sounds coming from the heavy metal door.

The door swung open haltingly, as if the building itself was an old man trying to maneuver his joints in order to function. Two figures emerged from inside. They had N95 masks on and were carrying submachine guns pointed forwards. They tentatively plod through some thick shrubbery that laid adjacent to the doorway. The person on the left straightened their back and turned to the other to convey that is was probably nothing – as Deadpool launched himself at the unaware vigil, pulling off the N95 mask as he landed a slice to his throat.

The vigil drops to the ground with a thud. The other vigil turned to aim his gun at Deadpool, but just as he raised his finger to the trigger, you snuck behind him and knocked him out cold.

‘’And that’s why we call you magic fingers.’’

‘’That’s only 2 guys, where’s the other 7?’’ You inquired.

As if on cue, you felt something whizz past you, mere inches from your face and impale onto a nearby tree. You quickly see that it was an arrow – shot clean through the bark – and took cover behind the nearest tree trunk.

You twisted your body back towards the base, still hidden from any other attacks, and peeked over the trunk to see where it came from.

Your eyes scaled up to the roof of the base, and through the mist you saw three black figures; their bows held up and taking aim. You look down at the entrance and you notice the mist had started to slowly dissipate, revealing a confident Deadpool standing out in the open; square in their sights.

‘’Well fingers, our cover’s blown.’’ He mentioned, looking back in your direction and then back up to the roof. ‘’I guess It’s time for some real good fun.’’

‘’Wade, there’s –‘’ an agitated Cable voiced through the earpiece before being cut off by Deadpool.

‘’No time, Oldilocks. I’m going for the assholes on the roof.’’

He pulled out both his guns from his holsters and took aim at the figures. He pulled the trigger several times, one bullet straight through the head of one of the roof archers and one through the neck of the other. The third archer had wisely taken cover.

Meanwhile, you were using your goggles to figure out where the last of the vigils would be. Scanning the vicinity, you whispered

‘’Where the fuck are yo– ‘’  

And before you could finish, two arms wrapped themselves around your neck and torso. Tight enough crush you. You struggled, unable to call out to Deadpool for backup.

‘’What’s a pretty little thing like you doing with an abomination like that?’’ a gruff voice said to you.

‘’Fuck you.’’ You grunt.

You dug your fingers into the thick armour of the assailant, changing the composition of the fibers using chemicals present in the air. In a split second, the clothing withered away, leaving his skin exposed. You hastily clawed into him, and begun oxidizing the skin it in the process

In other words, you were setting him on fire.

He started screaming.

He promptly released you from his grasp as he stumbled backwards, fervently trying to put out the combustion on his left arm. You swung your body back, trying to catch some momentum, before planting a roundhouse kick to his face.

As you caught your breath, you hear a gunshot coming from the base. You turn around to see Deadpool on the roof, presumably looking for the third archer – who is also now probably dead.

‘’That should be the last of them.’’ You spoke into the comms device.

You suddenly hear some rustling behind you.

Followed by a click.

  ‘’Y/N! TAKE COVER.’’

As you turned to the source of the voice, you felt two arms wrapping around your shoulders, followed by a massive weight moving you away from the oncoming projectile; which had shattered into pieces, inches before your body

Unbeknownst to you, Cable had shot at the rocket before throwing himself at you with his back to the shards of exploding metal.

There was smoke all around you. Cable was still on top of you, and you were bearing the full weight of his body. You used your powers to shift the heavy smoke away from you and towards where the rocket was shot and heard heavy coughs from behind the thicket of the forest.

‘’Kid, don’t move. They’re still there. Cable hissed with a laboured breath. ‘’Wade, I need cover from the roof.’’ He whispered into the comms device.

‘’RETURN TO THE MAIN BASE!’’ A shrill voice ordered, coming from the thicket; followed by a swift retreat marked by the loud, intense rustling of the leaves surrounding the dense growth.

Gunshots reverberated through the trees, and the bullets wisped past the smoke cloud in the direction of the assailants, but they had already vanished.

‘’What the fuck-knuckles was that? Holy shit, was that a fucking mini-missile?’’ Deadpool exclaimed as he emerged from the base. He walked towards where you and Cable had landed.

‘’Holy shit, that looks… so cool! And so painful!’’ Wade commented as Cable staggered up off of you.

‘’I’m fine, Wade, Thanks for asking.’’ You coughed. As you pushed yourself up off the ground, you heard a cackle of static coming from Cable’s body. His face twisted in discomfort as he put a hand to his left metallic shoulder. Heavily he breathed out and straightened himself up, turning around towards the direction where the enemies had run off to.

Which gave you a clear view of his back, and you saw why he had winced in pain.

One of the missile shards – presumably from the explosion – had lodged itself into Cable’s Techno-Organic back. The grey TO metal seemed to throb from the pierced missile fragment.

‘’Woah there, Cable. I’m going to have to take a look at that.’’ You say, concerned at how far into his back the fragment had lodged itself.

Cable turned to you, frowning and just as he was beginning to answer, you heard Colossus’ voice coming in from the earpiece.

‘’We have found the main base, but it seems we have company. Black Talon might have been expecting us. Follow the coordinates of our trackers, and be here quickly.’’

‘’Looks like the party’s just started. Hey, retired winter soldier, what’cha gonna do about that big, fat achey-breaky back?’’ Deadpool quipped.

With a groan, Cable pulled out the missile fragment and dumped it away from him. You watch him, alarmed, and yet… somehow turned on.

‘’Done. Let’s get a move on.’’ Cable said, slinging his gun to the unwounded side of his back, then booking it towards the main base; with you and Deadpool at his heel.

‘’Cable, that doesn’t look so good. Let me take a look at it, I’ll be quick.’’ You said as you caught up to his stride.

‘’Listen darlin’, I don’t think your healing fingers are up for it. It’s a futuristic virus, not regular human flesh or metal.’’ He said dismissively.

You looked away at that. You won’t lie, that did sting a little.

Maybe a lot, coming from Cable.

‘’Besides, I think we have more important things to worry about.’’ He grumbled.

You look up ahead to see the main base – towering over the trees. Made of the same black metal the first base had been comprised of. All three of you could hear the unmistakable sounds of grunts and bullets against chrome plating, and rushed towards it.

Colossus and NTW were head-to-head with 10 assailants, all adorned in matching uniforms.

How cute.

You were particularly agitated at this moment. Not only because of what Cable had implied, but also because you weren’t given an opportunity to use your powers to their fullest, with it being more of a covert mission – but clearly it had now developed into something else.

Time to show them that I’m not just some medic that needs protecting.

 You ran to the nearest tree, hurriedly putting your palms across the trunk. You focused your powers to one point, disintegrating the thick fibers of the tree and fashioning it into a concave shield; shaped like a half-open umbrella.

It was big enough to cover your entire body, and was extremely thick. You grabbed your reinforced shirt, a stripped some of the special fibers from it to enhance the shield – ultimately making it almost bullet proof.

Cable and Deadpool had already made their way to the action before you had, but you were right on their tail. You enhanced the metabolic activity in your body, allowing for you to reach top speed in mere seconds.

‘’Y/N! Don’t do anything stupid!’’ Cable called out.

You went in headfirst into the group of enemies – making a sort of curve around their group before colliding into them from their sides at full speed – whilst Cable and Deadpool shot at them with their guns.

The collision was disorienting enough for you to make your main assault. Peeking over your shield, you quickly wrapped your hand around one of their machine guns, and catalyzed the explosive reaction of the gunpowder inside.

‘’Hasta la vista, fuckers.’’ You said triumphantly as quickly you ducked behind the makeshift shield.

The gun exploded around the enemies, and in the midst of the chaos and panic, your team managed to subdue the rest of the group.

‘’There are two more assholes up in the tower. If I’m right, they’re the ones who need to signal Black Talon if the coast is clear – and since it’s clearly not, I think BT is gonna be a no-show’’ NTW explained.  

There was a moment of silence, as the team contemplated their next move. And in that moment, you heard the static of Cable’s wound as he grimaced.

‘’For fuck’s sake,’’ you walked over to Cable, ‘’sit down. I’m going to heal you.’’ You instructed.

‘’Y/N, listen to me. This is way beyond what you can help wi– ‘’

‘’I’m not hearing any of that crap. I didn’t train with the X-Men to be incompetent. I’ve handled mutants before, and you’re not special. So, I suggest that you sit down, and let me Do. My. Fucking. Job.’’

The following silence was deafening, as the rest of your team stared at you in disbelief.

You maintained intense eye contact with Cable until he yielded – looking away with a disgruntled ‘’Fine.’’

You circled around him as he sat on a fallen tree stump and got to work. Centralising all your powers onto the throbbing mess of metal and static. Some of it had shocked you, but it wasn’t anything you weren’t used to. As you fixated on the metal, you felt a sudden sense of life to it. The wound was throbbing as if it was inflamed – like how a human wound would – but it felt entirely foreign, and very powerful.

You backed away from feeling its life, and focused your energy on enhancing the recovery of the living metal, just enough to buy some time and get back to the mansion before actually operating on it. The recovery process was admittedly taking longer than it usually does on humans, but you relented. The virus wasn’t resisting any of this, but something – or someone else – sure was.

Suddenly, two bodies dropped from the tower – presumably the minions of Black Talon.

‘’That’s the last of them!’’ Deadpool announced. ‘’So, when are we breaking this thing apart?’’

‘’NOT ANYTIME SOON.’’ A deep voice emerged from the forest. All of a sudden, a thunderous noise enveloped the vicinity growing louder and louder, as you watch a horde of zombies charging towards you.

Adrenaline coursed through you, as you hastened the recovery and expertly closed up the wound. ‘’All done.’’ You said to Cable. He rotated his arm 360 degrees and seemed pleased with its mobility. He gave you a nod, before taking his fighting stance towards the horde. You charged at the zombies, as the rest of your team also got to pounding them into the ground.

‘’Wade and Colossus, destroy that tower! This fight is pointless. Once we destroy the tower, we can retreat!’’ Cable yelled into the comms. Colossus grunted an affirmative before getting to work on the tower.

The more you fought the group of zombies, the more they reappeared. Like they were multiplying. This wasn’t going to be sustainable, and you knew you would soon be outnumbered.

‘’I am calling the X-Jet for an emergency extraction. The tower is coming down!’’ Colossus informed through the comms.

‘’TIMBER!’’ Deadpool yelled, hanging off the side of the tower, hopping off just as it went down.

The tower came crashing down onto an area infested with the zombies, which was followed by the loud roar of the incoming X-Jet.

‘’Evacuate now!’’ Colossus rumbled into the earpiece. Everyone rushed up the ladder dispatched by the jet. Everything was happening at once, and you were caught off-guard. Black Talon lunged out of nowhere, and managed to almost knocked the living daylights out of you. You’re stunned as you brought your hands up to your head to reverse the internal damage. Cable fired his repelling rifle at Talon, giving him enough time to pull you into safety. You stumbled back and felt unconsciousness sneaking up on you, but not before you felt one strong arm holding you up.

‘’I’ve got your back too, darlin’’’ He whispered to you, as he hoisted you and himself up onto the ladder – holding you tight to his body. The jet promptly accelerated away from the forest, whilst pulling you and Cable up onto the jet, back to safety.

You recovered quickly in the jet, with the help of your team. Cable had helped stabilize your vitals, enough for you to be able to recover yourself from your head trauma. You gave him a solemn thank you, but didn’t make conversation with anyone throughout the journey back home.

Back at the mansion, Colossus debriefed everyone on the day’s mission and dismissed the team for the night.

As you entered your room, you hear Cable sound out from behind you.

‘’Y/N, can I talk to you for a moment?’’

‘’Why? So that you can belittle my powers again?’’

‘’That was not what I intended, Doll.’’ He said, walking into your room and shutting the door behind him.

‘’Then what was the intention Mr. Angry pants?’’

You give yourself a mental facepalm. God you were terrible at sassy nicknames; but only when it came to Cable.

‘’I just didn’t want you to get hurt. This virus is an infection. Who fucking knows what would happen if you got your cells or blood mixed with it? The last thing I want is for someone close to me to get hurt because of me. Why do you think I made you that reinforced shirt?  And no, it’s not because I think you’re weak. You’re pretty damn strong and you have the wits to back you up. But the assholes out there, I’ve seen what they do to people. And the last thing I want was for you to end up in that position. So, no, that was not my intention at all. I only ever wanted to keep you safe.’’ He looked away sheepishly.

You contemplated all this, before giving a resigned sighed. You didn’t want to stay angry at the man, especially not when he was pouring his heart out to you.

‘’It’s okay. Thank you for… having my back.’’ You said sincerely, stretching out a hand for him to shake – a proposition for friendship, since that was what he wanted. He looks at you, and takes a few steps toward you.

‘’What are yo–‘’ and before you could finish, you find your lips locked with Cable. He places his hands on your waist as you moved your hands to hold his face between them – melting into the kiss.

Cable slowly breaks the kiss, and moves into a hug. ‘’I’m sorry if all this is… confusing. I know I said I didn’t want to move forward. But I don’t want to lose you. And I want to keep you close to me. How does that sound?’’ He asked, looking intensely into your eyes.

‘’I’d… like that, Nate. I’d like that very much.’’

[beautifulbows924]

Under The Table (Request)

(Boss AU!)Cable X (Female!)Reader

Deadpool Masterlist

Masterlist

Request from @cheeseburgermclardass: Hello, I'm not sure if you do requests at this moment but I was wondering if you could do an Office AU for cable x reader? I was thinking something along the lines of Boss/Worker? If you could maybe add some smut that would be good too. Thank you :)

A/N:This was interesting to write. I don't write smut a lot, so I hope that this is ok. Oh and just a quick note... none of you have to donate to me, but my laptop is completely busted at this point. So if you like my writing and you can donate even just a few dollars towards me buying a new one that would be absolutely amazing. I hope all of you enjoy! Feedback is always appreciated❤️

Warnings: Mature Content- Smut, getting caught, Oral Male and Female receiving, etc. 

Word Count: 2k+

“Hey Y/N, over here!”, Shouted one of my friends waving me over. They had talked me into going out with them, since we hadn’t been hanging out that much, because of my job. I had been non-stop working lately and at least I would be doing something fun for once.

“Hey everyone!”, I yelled trying to be heard over the loud music. Everyone replied in a chorus of hello’s.

Ashley tried to hand me a drink, but I declined, “I don’t want to be hungover tomorrow.”, I said trying to push the glass away.

“It doesn’t even have alcohol in it.”, She told me. I felt a bit skeptical of her words, but nonetheless I took the drink from her anyway. 

“Wow, that was really good.”, I said after finishing the glass, I wondered what was in it.

“I told you.”, She said handing me another.

We all talked and caught up for about an hour when our favorite song came on.

My friends grabbed ahold of my hands and took me to the dance floor. The lights were flashing in an array of color and I could feel the music encompassing everything. I danced around shaking my body to a rhythm I didn’t know I had within me.

I felt free- I felt alive, it was amazing!

For about ten minutes.

After then I felt extremely sluggish and tired. It was like my arms and legs were attached to sandbags. The whole room was spinning, “I thought you said that drink didn’t have any alcohol in it?”

“I said that?”, She asked me giggling. I was screwed. Of course, she didn’t really know what she was saying- she was drunk.

“You have got to be kidding me.”, I said dragging my feet away from the dance floor before I blacked out.

I didn’t come out my stupor until the next morning. I was wrapped up in my dark covers, with no remembrance of how I got there. I groaned, my head was pounding against my skull painfully. I grabbed my phone and headed to the kitchen to get a glass of water. I scrolled through my notifications to find that I had a ton of notifications from my friends and- Nathan?

‘Why would he be texting me this early?’, I wondered out loud.

I went to our messages.

Oh no.

This cannot be happening.

10:54 PM Chat Log:

Y/N: Hey Hot stuff;)

Nathan: Y/N?

Y/N: You know it’s really unfair you’ve never kissed me before. Why are you keeping your lips from me?

Y/N: I want them

Y/N: Nathan Pleaseee

Nathan: You’re drunk, where are you?

Y/N: I’m not drunk

Y/N: Ok maybe a little

Nathan: Where are you?

Y/N: I’m at that bar next to our office

Y/N: You know the pretty one with all those lights?

Nathan: Yes, I know what you are talking about, I’m coming to get you.

Y/N: You’re no fun

Y/N: Party Pooper

8:00 AM Chat Log:

Nathan: Hey, I hope you are feeling better from last night. I’ll see you at work. We really need to talk later. -N

I sighed putting my head into my hands, ‘What have I done? Not have I only let my boss know of my crush on him, but I also looked like an absolute fool.’

I just wanted to curl up into my covers and die.

Preferably before work.

When I got into work I kept my eyes trained on the floor, both out of embarrassment and comfort- I couldn’t stand to look into any bright lights at the moment. I blushed just thinking about what I had said the night before. ‘I’m his personal assistant not his girlfriend’, I reminded myself, while I walked to my desk, trying to hide as much as possible. I was hoping that he wouldn’t even say anything- maybe we could just forget about it? I sighed in irritation, I knew that wouldn’t be the case.

We worked for a huge cooperation, which Cable was the CEO of. All the employees pretended that the company was about technology- but everyone knew the truth. We were who to call when you wanted someone dead.

Cable’s X-Force duties sometimes got in the way of “regular” work, and at those times he wouldn’t be able to come in for a few days.

At the moment, I really wished it to be one of those days.

When he didn’t come to see me for quite some time, I thought that he wasn’t there, but then he walked out of his office with one our new clients.

I quickly ducked down under my desk. I could hear his voice and footsteps coming closer and closer. Finally, I heard him bid goodbye to the client and seemingly walk away.

So, when he leant down to look at me, it was startling.

“Come to my office, we need to talk.”, He said in his deep voice that always made me nervous. I could feel my hands shake and become sweaty as I followed him to his office. I wiped my hands on my skirt before walking in behind him. The finality of the door closing behind me made me even more anxious.

“What do you remember about last night?”

“Not much- I’m sorry. Thank you for taking me home.”, I told him my voice shaky.

“Did you mean what you said?”, He asked eyeing me up and down.

I licked my lips, a nervous tick of mine. “I have no idea what you are talking about, mean what?”, I lied trying to play dumb.

“Don’t lie to me darling.”, He replied almost instantly. It was as if could feel the room shake with tension.

“Really I told you sir I don’t know what you are- “, I tried to cover up again, but he wasn’t having it.

He had me pushed up against the wall, his arms pressing down on my waist, trapping me within seconds. I whimpered, wondering what he would do next. My pussy throbbed in excitement and I could feel wetness pool in between my thighs.

“Say that you want me and I’m all yours.”, He told me, caressing my side gently with one hand, his other holding my cheek.

In those moments I know I stopped breathing, only remembering how to breathe when my lungs hurt so bad it burned.

“I want you.”, I said in whisper that was so low I barely heard it myself. However, that’s all he needed to hear. He hoisted me up to where my legs were wrapped around his waist and he kissed me like an intense flame that wouldn’t be quenched easily. I moaned into the kiss as it deepened, and when my mouth opened, he instantly started to explore it with his tongue.

When we finally had to release one another for air- I took a good look at him. His lips were red and swollen, his pupils were dilated, and his hair was stuck up in places where I had tugged on it. This break didn’t last for long, once we had caught our breath enough we went right back at it.

He set me down on his desk, my legs still wrapped around him pressing against him firmly. I could feel his erection against me and I tried to grind into him wanting to gain some friction to get rid of the ache that was spreading, but he wouldn’t let me.

“Patience kitten.”, I whimpered at his words.

He kissed my neck and grabbed my legs, making me release my hold on his waist. He let go of me and I cried out at the loss of contact. I needed him.

Now.

But soon his touch was on me again. He pushed up my skirt to reveal my panties, which he quickly discarded, slipping them into his pocket. “You won’t be needing those anymore, now will you?”

I nodded yes, my words would have been incoherent anyway. He chuckled a bit before leaning down and pressing kisses on the inner of my thighs. He eventually got so close that I could feel his breathe caress my core. I whined and squirmed relentlessly, but he just held down my thighs tighter.

Finally, he pressed the softest kiss to my clit, making me try to buck up against him. This didn’t work, but slowly and surely, he sent licks to my clit. I moaned his name over and over again like it was the only thing I knew how to say. Which at the moment was probably the case.

I screamed out when I felt him add his metal fingers inside of me. They were cold, but somehow burned instead. He moved his tongue quicker and faster over my clit, forming a knot within my stomach. I could feel myself being pushed over the edge. I was in sensory overload, everything was too much.

I finally felt myself release and it was like I could see the stars. He was the only thing keeping me upright, if not I knew I would have fallen over. He continued to go down on me through my high, until I whimpered at the feeling of being overstimulated.

He brought his face level to mine. He was completely covered in my cum and I could taste it like honey when he kissed me.

We heard a knock at the door and we rushed trying to hide everything as quick as possible.

Thank goodness for Cable’s office being sound proof and covered.

I climbed under his desk and smirked when I realized what I would soon be level with. This was going to be a fun meeting.

Nathan sat down in his office chair and shouted for whomever was on the other end to come in.

“Hey Nathan I just wanted to talk to you about the mission we have coming up.”, Said who’s voice I recognized to be Wade’s as he walked in and sat across from Nathan’s desk.

I got bored as they talked about the linguistics of the mission and decided to put my mission into action. I reached up to palm his dick through his pants. I could feel him tense as he smacked my hand away, telling Wade that a bug had landed on him. I wasn’t evaded and continued, determined to complete what I had begun. I unzipped his pants slowly, teasingly, as not to make too much noise and alert Deadpool of my presence.

By the time I managed to free his dick from his pants he was already fully hard, his tip red and leaking pre-cum. I licked his tip, swirled my tongue around and then took only a bit into my mouth at a time, until I wouldn’t be able to take any more in without gagging. Slowly, I bobbed my head up and down. I could see him grip the table forcefully, trying to not let any inappropriate noses escape from his mouth.

“Are you ok man?”, I heard Deadpool ask, obviously oblivious to what was transpiring under the desk.

“I’m fine.”, He said through gritted teeth. I giggled a bit with my mouth around him, sending pleasurable sensations through his shaft causing him to release into my mouth. I swallowed as he coated my throat with ribbons of cum. I was now content for the time being.

Some time later him and Wade finished their conversation. “Well Thanks for talking with me.”, He said walking towards the exit, but paused before opening it, “Oh and Y/N it was nice hearing you.” He then walked out causing me to uncontrollably burst out laughing.

“You think this is funny huh?”, Nathan asked me, picking me up and setting me on his lap.

“Yes.”

“Babygirl, you are going to be the death of me.”, He said pulling me in for a heated kiss and then pulling away, looking at me hungrily, “But I have an idea of what to do to you- because I want you to remember naughty girls get punished.”

I had no idea what I was in for, and the only thing I was sure of was that I was ready for whatever he had in store for me.

*Thanks for reading! Leave a Note or Reblog if you Enjoyed it* ~Rose❤️

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[percy-son-of-sally-jackson]

Dubstep’s for Pussies (Cable x Female Reader): Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Writing Masterlist

Read it on AO3

Buy a poor gal a Ko-fi

Warnings: female reader, alcohol consumption, bed sharing (do things get raunchy? who knows? no really, this fic is now doing its own thing and dragging me along), definitely turning into a bit of a slow burn, (involuntary?) cuddling (they didn’t mean for it to happen), lonely Cable, will be NSFW at some point in the future so 18+ y/o readers please

Word Count: 1539

A/N: First I just wanna say thank you to everyone who left a comment on the first chapter, that was super validating and motivating. So here's the 2nd chapter, I hope y'all like it as much as the first! Sorry I honestly meant for this fic to be a smutty one shot but I guess it's turning into a bit of a slow burn, but I swear, they WILL fuck at some point!!! I am putting a read more thing on this, if it wont work for you please leave a comment and i’ll get rid of it, the tumblr app is being a bitch

Tag list (if anyone wants to be tagged in future chapters, please let me know!): @fantasticwizardnerd @cxsmicbrownies @roni-westbrook @the-wayward-unicorn @luisadevitt @booklover2929 @whovianayesha @thehuntress26 @peculiar-monstar @crazy-pleasures-and-crazy-habits @saint-caravaggio @pianomad @akihecko @cyborgjules @vivelafuckingpluto @angeli-fucking-cat @ladydovahkiin180 @the-undateable @theromaniansoldier @nonamesland​ @seabasschinstanappreciation​ @mightiestheroes​ @sexy-ass-sub @freakinglizzy​

You spent the next two days in your room, only sneaking out at night to grab food from the kitchen. The main team had gone off on the mission, but the kids and some of the teachers still remained, and you wanted to avoid them as much as possible. Luckily your room was the furthest from them.

On the third day you were bored. Usually you'd go hang out with your sister, or train with Negasonic, or force Nathan to watch some show with you, but the team was going to be gone for another two days, and you were slowly driving yourself insane.

Alcohol and Parks and Rec had worked for the first two days, but you ran out of alcohol, and thoughts about your fight with Nathan were slowly creeping in. You'd already raided Wade's and Colossus' rooms for their stashes of alcohol, everyone else either didn't drink, or were too young to drink. The only room left was Cable's.

You stood outside Nathan's room, chewing your lip. You knew he was going to be mad when he found out that you stole his alcohol, but at the same time you felt like he deserved it. You tried the handle, and surprisingly it wasn't locked.

You'd snuck into his room before, mainly to help Wade set up booby traps, but now you had time to actually look around his room.

It was simple enough, a large room, with hardwood floors, a well kept bathroom, a fairly big closet, a stool next to a table littered with weapons and spare parts, and one king sized bed pushed up into a corner near a window. The curtains were drawn so that in the morning the sunlight would stream in directly onto the bed. You figured he'd be a one pillow, thin blanket type of person, but he had at least four pillows, and a surprisingly thick comforter.

You raided the mini fridge near the table, scoffing at the six pack of beer. Of course he liked beer, you thought to yourself, luckily you found an unopened bottle of some foreign vodka in the back, much more your style.

You sat at the table, riffling through the various weapons. Nathan had taken most of his assembled weapons on the mission, what was left were mostly useless parts of different weapons, and other equipment that Cable used to contract his futuristic guns; you still didn't completely understand how he did it, but it was fascinating nonetheless. However you spotted a familiar looking modified handgun, the one he used to blast your speakers to bits.

Bottle in one hand, gun in the other, you moved away and aimed at the table. Maybe it was time for some payback. You stood there for longer than you'd like to admit, before lowering the gun. You could piss him off in ways that wouldn't get you in trouble with the rest of the team. You'd already stolen his alcohol, you were twirling one of his guns around your finger, and now you were eyeing his bed.

Without a moment's hesitation you jumped onto the bed, giggling as you bounced a little. You rolled around, messing up the neatly tucked in sheets. Weariness began to set in, you'd been up the past two days, barely able to get more than a half hour's worth of restless sleep, but Cable's bed was beginning to feel incredibly comfortable, not to mention the fact that it vaguely smelled like him.

You subconsciously started to curl up around one of the pillows, the bottle discarded somewhere on the bed, but his gun was still in your palm. Your eyes were beginning to droop when you finally realized what you were doing.

You groaned to yourself, feeling conflicted. On one hand you didn't want him to know you'd fallen asleep in his bed, especially when you were still angry; on the other hand, the team wasn't due back for at least another two days, so he'd probably never know. Besides, one of the few times you'd actually gotten some proper sleep recently was when you were showing him Game of Thrones and accidentally fell asleep on his shoulder, his bed seemed like the next best thing, so you weren't about to pass up some good sleep.

You slowly drifted off to sleep, back pressed against the wall, with a pillow in your arms, and your face buried in another.

——————————————

Cable stomped his was up to his room, the mission was successful, they'd actually finished a day earlier than planned, but Wade had been pissing him off the entire time, taking jabs at him about Y/N, and Cable was ready to retreat to the sanctuary of his own room. However, when he got to his room, he was greeted by a surprising sight. There you were, curled up in the corner, the sun streaming in gave you a warm, peaceful glow as it lit up your curls.

Cable paused at the foot of the bed, unsure what to do. He debated waking you up, but he knew sleep was rare and precious for you. He froze as you made a sound and shifted, your legs kicking his comforter off to reveal that you were only wearing a tank top and a pair of boyshort panties that hugged your ass like a second skin. He averted his gaze, cursing himself for lingering. His eyes flicked over to your hands, one lay over a bottle of vodka Colossus had given him, and the other curled around his small handgun-turned-blaster.

"Jesus Christ," he mumbled to himself, gently prying the weapon from your fingers; he didn't want you accidentally shooting something, or worse, yourself. In the end, he decided to shower first, hopefully by the time he was done, you'd be awake.

Unfortunately for him, you weren't. He came back out to see the same sight greeting him. Cable groaned to himself, he hadn't slept for the past four days during the mission, either because he was busy being shot at or because his thoughts lingered on your last fight. However, even though he felt guilty for what he said, he wasn't about to let you take over his bed like that; Cable figured that as long as he kept to his side, and you stayed curled up in the corner, neither of you would have a problem.

He turned down the AC and crawled into bed, trying to leave a respectable amount of space between the two of you. Reaching over you, he drew the thick, dark curtains shut, plunging the whole room into night-like darkness, before pulling the covers over the both of you.

"Good night," he wasn't sure why he said it to your sleeping form, but perhaps he was feeling a little lonely after all this time, and it was nice having someone to share his bed with, even if you probably hated his guts.

—————————————

Something was dragging you to the surface of consciousness, and despite your struggle to remain asleep, you slowly blinked your way out of your near blissful sleep. You began to notice something heavy and warm wrapped around you; when did your comforters get this heavy, you thought to yourself. Looking around the dark room, you remembered that you were in Nathan's room.

Suddenly, the covers groaned and squeezed around you, making you yelp, initially with shock, then with horror as you realized someone else was in bed with you. Nathan grumbled something under his breath, pulling you flush against him as he clamped his large, calloused right hand over your mouth.

"Shhh, go back to sleep," he said in a deep, sleep riddled voice, making you blush as a spike of heat ran through your body. He was barely conscious, and failed to properly register what was happening.

You tried to wriggle your way out, but his grip was like a python's, slowly getting tighter. He finally forced a thick, muscular thigh between your legs, stopping your efforts to slide down the bed. With a final frustrated huff, you went limp in his arms.

"Good girl," he murmured, his hand slipping from your mouth as he fell back asleep.

How long had you been sleeping, you wondered, did they get back early from the mission or had you slept for two straight days? You could barely even remember the last time you got a full eight hours of sleep.

You tried forcing yourself back to sleep, since Nathan wouldn't let you go, but now you were too high strung to rest again. Not to mention the fact that Nathan was half naked, and his whole body was pressed up against your back so that you could practically feel each individual muscle move every time he breathed. The thigh between your legs wasn't helping either, he had it pressed up against the apex of your thighs, and your panties weren't doing shit to dull the feeling.

So you tried lay as still as possible in his arms, for nearly an hour, until his metal arm finally loosened around your waist and you managed to slowly inch your way out without waking him this time. You rushed to the door, your heart thumping against your rib cage, as if you were a thief in the night. You glanced back, almost guiltily, at his sleeping form one last time before quietly shutting the door behind you.

[cablexdeadpool]

hi! im trying to write something and i have a few questions, has nate always gotten along with scott? how was the first time they meet? i would be very grateful if you could rec me some comics about that! thank you!

I think the better question might be “has Nate ever got on with Scott?” (The short answer is: yes, but only briefly, occasionally, and very much depending on who’s writing today.) You’ve got to remember, Cyclops has spent most of his history dedicated to Xavier’s ideals, carefully keeping the X-Men’s image as clean and family-friendly as possible – whereas Cable grew up in a war-torn future and sees nothing wrong with recruiting teengers into black ops teams. Neither of them have any idea how to process being father and son, and the relationship mostly ranges from ‘mildly fraught’ to ‘open hostilities’. Scott even spends the first couple of volumes of Cable & Deadpool actively trying to take Nate down, believing he’s finally gone too far.

I’m not 100% sure about the first time they met (and if anyone else more familiar with the era has a better answer, I’m all ears), but I think it was during the X-Tinction Agenda crossover event in 1990. Neither of them really reacted at the time – you’ve got to realise that this was back before young-Nathan had been sent to the future at all, and I don’t think the Marvel editors had even decided they were going to turn out to be the same guy yet. Even Cable himself had no idea he was a Summers until much later.

I can tell you the big reveal began during the X-Cutioner’s Song crossover (1993), and later wrapped up over Cable V1 #5-8, released Nov 1993-Feb 1994. They did make some attempt at bonding in the following issues, and there was even a mini where a psychically-time-displaced Scott and Jean spent several years raising baby-Nate in the future for real, without ever admitting their true identities (The Adventures of Cyclops and Phoenix, 1994). But that was a pretty clunky retcon even then, and I’m not sure if it’s even considered canon nowadays (it certainly hasn’t been referenced in forever).

Regardless, if Cable & Deadpool was the low-point of their relationship, the mid-nineties would probably have been the high-point – such as it was. Even then, Cable seemed to have an easier time dealing with his Summers-family membership when Scott wasn’t around, such as when he joined the X-Men in his father’s memory after Scott’s death in one of the Apocalypse events (he eventuallygot better, obviously, but not before Cable got some nice bonding moments with Jean out of the situation in Uncanny X-Men #381 and surrounding issues).

If you do want to go poking through old issues, I’d recommend getting yourself a Marvel Unlimited subscription – you can sign up for a month relatively cheaply and get access to a huge library of old back-issues. If you’re at all curious what I make of the Scott/Nate relationship myself, I’ve written a couple of fics dealing with it, though the two of them have comically little in common otherwise – one is a scene from an AU where Nate makes it back to the present in his teen years and Scott gets a somewhat-better shot at being a father, and the other is several hundred words of crack about Scott’s pained reaction to Nate and Wade’s wedding. Make of it all what you will.

[itsthejuggernautbitch]

You Look Like Trouble (Morning Glory Wine) - Cable/OC

Here’s chapter three! I don’t want to be that person but if you’ve got the time and the inclination, kudos would be great.

Also, here’s a playlist if you’re into that kind of thing. I make them for all my fics. Listen along if you like because the chapter titles correspond to the song.

Taglist: @this-that-and-every-thing-else  @ptite-shit  @lesbianyondu  @chromecutie  @gallifreyangrandtorino  @ra-ra-rasputiin  @akihecko

Mondays suck. The to-do list for the day is always too long, there’s always stuff left over from the weekend, and then there’s the whole week ahead. That's when you've got to go to all of your appointments, deal with life in general. Mondays were just too much.

This Monday, though, was Vivian’s day off. There was work to be done, but not the kind of work where she had to go into the office and hold down small children or bother grown men about taking their medicine properly.

Today, Vivian got to see her kids.

Vivian was in the middle of getting dressed when her doorbell rang. She tumbled out into the hall, tugging her dress down over her head and hopping on one foot to put her shoes on. There was no chance of anything more than a relatively professional dress, ponytail, and a spirited attempt at makeup. She couldn’t remember the last time she made an effort to dress up, but at least the dress was business-y.

The doorbell rang again. When she opened the door, Wade stood on the other side, dressed in the Deadpool suit. Looks like someone else had business to take care of today.

Wade whistled when he saw her. “Look at you! I thought the white coat just came included with the special features! What are you up to today?”

“Parent-teacher conference for Shelly at the middle school today,” Vivian replied, scraping her hair up into a fussy ponytail.

“But I thought you couldn’t - ”

“The ex-husband cannot be in attendance and apparently it’s urgent, so I get to go handle it. Restraining order is against him, not my babies.”

Wade held onto her shoulder so that Vivian could balance long enough to get her other shoe on. “So this is the first time in how long?”

“About a year.”

“Well, I’m sure it’ll be a fun conference. Tell your kids to stop setting off stink bombs or eating Tide pods or whatever it is that kids do for fun these days.”

Vivian was pretty sure that kids didn’t actually do any of those things for fun.

She snorted. “I’m hoping I can take them out for dinner afterward.”

Wade hopped on the couch and stretched out, watching Vivian attempt to finish getting dressed in a timely fashion. “You know where you should go after dinner?”

“Not Sister Margaret’s. It’s my night off.”

He hummed. “I was thinking more about Xavier’s mansion.”

Vivian stopped long enough to stare at him. “Absolutely not.”

“Oh, come on, Colossus wants to talk to you!”

“Yeah, I know,” she replied. “Captain Boy Scout has been trying to sit me down and talk to me about being the school nurse for years. Besides, when did you start rolling out the welcome wagon for the X-Men?”

Wade huffed. “Gimme a break! It’s part of training!”

“What, recruitment?”

“If you come, I don’t have to wear the yellow crop top!”

“Good thing you look good in yellow, because I’m not setting foot in that place,” Vivian replied, grabbing her keys. “Now, let me get out of here, I don’t want to be late.”

Wade opened the door for her, slamming it behind them. “Have fun! Tell the babies that Uncle Wade says hi!”

“They don’t call you Uncle Wade!”

Vivian stood in the school lobby, arms crossed, tapping her foot. She’d been waiting for a solid thirty minutes for Jack to bring the kids, but neither Shelly nor Benji were anywhere in sight. She couldn’t just find the teacher’s room on her own and take care of the problem. She’d never been inside of the middle school, so she didn’t know the whereabouts of the teacher’s classroom.

“Mama!”

A tiny, high-pitched voice preceded the appearance of a tiny blonde girl, like the sound of a bird chirping. Shelly ran towards her, all hundred pounds of middle school girl barreling towards Vivian like a bullet. Benji jogged along behind her, wearing the same grimace that Vivian always gave to Wade when he was overly enthusiastic about something.

She caught Shelly in her arms and gave Benji one of those side-arm hugs teenage boys give when they think they’re too old to hug their moms.

Shelly didn’t stop long enough for greetings. She wouldn’t let go of Vivian’s hand as she pulled her down the hallway. “Lets go get this over with.”

“Hold on, honey, what’s your teacher’s name?”

“Mr. Johnson. He’s kind of a twerp.”

“Why’s he a twerp?”

Benji rolled his eyes. “Shouldn’t you be telling her not to call people twerps?”

“Probably, but I’m your mom and you should be able to express your feelings in a safe, understanding environment. If your sister says the man’s a twerp, he’s a twerp, Benji,” Vivian said. “Why’s he a twerp, Shelly?”

“Well, he called this conference and I don’t think it’s that big of a deal.”

“I don’t even know what happened, Shel Dorado. Your dad didn’t exactly clue me in on that.”

“Dad didn’t even read the letter that got sent home with me?”

“No, Dad just didn’t give me the letter to read. We’re not really allowed to talk, remember?”

“Oh, yeah… Well, I guess Mr. Johnson can tell you,” Shelly said, coming to halt. “This is his room.”

Vivian walked in, Shelly and Benji trailing behind her. The room was the same stringent, basic setup as every other middle school classroom in America, purposefully bland and devoid of hope or fun. Desks were arranged in clinical rows. The teacher’s desk was arranged carefully in the front corner with two chairs across from the teacher’s computer chair.

Benji sat at a desk on the front row while Shelly parked herself in one of the chairs next to the teacher’s desk.

Mr. Johnson stood up and shook Vivian’s hand. “I was under the impression that I would be dealing with Mr. Thorn. We’ve had correspondence about Shelly’s behavior before.”

Vivian sat down in the chair next to Shelly’s. “Well, Mr. Thorn is presently unavailable, as he had something he deemed more important to take care of today. You’ll be dealing with me instead, so why don’t you enlighten me as to Shelly’s behavior.”

The teacher sat down in his chair and scooted it in close to the desk.“She’s been picking a lot of fights lately. I’m just curious as to whether this relating to something that’s happening at home?”

“I wouldn’t know what happens at home, being that Mr. Thorn and I are divorced.”

Mr. Johnson shrugged. “It could be your absence in the home that’s causing this…”

“Well, Mr. Johnson, why don’t you explain to Mr. Thorn that my absence in my children’s life is negatively impacting them so that he’ll authorize visitation,” Vivian replied, liking the teacher less and less with every passing minute. “This, I assume, would only be possible in the event you or the nearest other available pig grows wings and takes flight.”

“Ms. Sharpe-”

“Dr. Sharpe.”

“Dr. Sharpe, I meant no disrespect to you. I wasn’t insinuating anything.”

Yeah, right.

Vivian didn’t have a lot of patience to begin with, but he was testing what little she had. “Why don’t we ask Shelly why she’s acting out? It may be that you’re not addressing her needs as a student. Shelly, what’s going on?”

Shelly looked like she’d rather be anywhere else in the world at that very moment. “Tom and John made it a game to pull every girls’ hair, snap bra straps, pull down our pants. I’ve been telling Mr. Johnson that for months.”

There is a special kind of fury only felt by mothers of girls, because mothers of girls know exactly what kind of pain they’re going through.

“Is this true, Mr. Johnson?”

“She’s the only student who’s complained about this…”

If she didn’t have to set a good example for her kids, Vivian would have definitely punched him by now. “So, what? The testimony of one little girl isn’t enough to make you address this situation?”

“That’s not what I was saying…”

“No, you’re saying that these little boys are touching Shelly and you’re not doing anything about it.”

“She punched Tom Wells in the face and broke his nose.”

“Good,” Vivian snapped. “She did something about it when you wouldn’t. The only thing you’re doing is teaching my child that she won’t be taken seriously.”

“Dr. Sharpe, I have reprimanded them.”

“You gave those boys a slap on the wrist, but you pulled me and both of my children away from our lives to have a conversation about my daughter defending herself?”

“That wasn’t the intention.”

“I know what your intention was, Mr. Johnson,” she said. “I’m a thirty-four year old woman with a medical doctorate. I know exactly what she’s going through and how you’re responding to it because I’ve been dealing with the same thing for thirty-four years myself.”

“Well, if you’re not going to have a conversation with me, Dr. Sharpe, perhaps you should leave.”

“Oh, I think this was a great conversation, Mr. Johnson. And don’t worry, I’ll be pulling her from your class.”

“You can’t do that.”

“Oh, I can’t? Watch me.” She motioned for Shelly and Benji to follow her. “Come on, guys.”

Vivian held open the door so that the kids could walk ahead of her. She slammed the door behind her and stalked down to the lobby to take care of this problem. When you found the business office door, she pulled open the door and looked for the administrative assistant.

She found Lucy, the administrative assistant, waiting for her in her office. “I need you to take care of something for me.”

Lucy looked up at her over the rim over her glasses. “Switch Shelly to a different class? Way ahead of you.”

“How’d you know?”

“I just needed consent from you or Jack to get her out of that class,” Lucy replied, already typing away at her keyboard. “It’s like the more she fights back, the bigger the target on her head.”

“Well, get her off the firing range. She’s got a target on her head because that teacher isn’t doing anything about it.”

Lucy nodded. “I’ll get it taken care of, Viv.”

“Thank you, Lucy. Can you send me updates on things?”

“I will.”

“Thanks again. I’ll see you later.”

Vivian left the office decidedly calmer than she expected to. She motioned for Shelly and Benji to follow her out. The kids followed Vivian out to her car.

Shelly grabbed Vivian’s hand and swung it as they walked. “Can you come to all the teacher conferences from now on?”

Vivian pulled Benji into a one-arm hug as she walked, despite the fact that he looked like he was going to die of embarrassment. “Of course I can. I didn’t even know all of this was going on or I would have been crawling his ass long before now.”

“Language, mom,” Benji said. She was vividly reminded of a smaller, less shiny Colossus as that moment.

“Sorry, honey.”

Vivian climbed into her car and waited for the two of them to climb in behind her. They both slid into the backseat, shoving each other for elbow space. She started the car, put it into gear, and sped off towards the exit.

“Hey, mama?” Benji asked. Vivian’s heart melted a little bit. She hadn’t heard Benji call her that in years . “Can you get me put in a different English class? She gives pop quizzes.”

“No, Benji. Pop quizzes are good for you,” Vivian replied, searching absently for the street she needed to turn onto. “What do you two want for dinner?”

“Pizza,” they said in unison.

Vivian sighed. “How many times have you had pizza this week?”

“Three.”

“Wouldn’t you rather have something healthier?”

“No.”

“What does your father feed you? Jeeze. Pizza it is, I guess.”

Vivian could see why Wade harassed her about getting sleep. If she slumped any lower in her chair she was going to hit the (very bloody) floor.

It was a slow Friday night, which was rare. Friday nights usually meant a steady flow of wounds to stitch up. Thank goodness she’d only had a couple of patients, though. There was no way she would have been able to deal with the Friday night load in her current state of overwhelming exhaustion. Of course, even though it was a slow night, she’d had two difficult patients. Both of them bled everywhere (as is the nature of stab wounds), which only exacerbated her exhaustion. She got both of them stable and stitched up, though.

The time was drawing close to two a.m. She was only sticking around so that she could pay Cable, whenever he decided to show up. Cable didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would skip out on a payment, so Vivian was a little worried that he might have forgotten his deadline, or worse - that he might have had some trouble with his mark.

The mark in this instance was the man Vivian bought all of her medical supplies from. He never stiffed her on numerical counts, but she had long suspected that he was buying the lowest quality items and pocketing the different. Distasteful, unethical - not technically illegal, but none of these practices - his or her own - were legal anyway, so she could do something about his poor business practices. She suspected that it was his doing that all of her supplies had been substituted out and replaced. She wasn’t exactly surprised that he did it - more annoyed than anything. That was fine. She had learned over the years that one must fight back in order to accomplish anything.

She knew how to fight all too well.

Really, she shouldn’t have been worried that Cable forgot his deadline, or failed to meet it. She realized that when the medical room door was thrown open, and in stepped Cable and the mark.

Cable dragged the guy in by his ear and shoved him towards Vivian. “Jimmy here’s got something to say to you, Dr. Sharpe.”

Vivian bit her lip to keep from snorting. She was pretty sure she’d never seen a grown man’s ear twisted like a bad schoolboy’s by another fully grown man. “What on Earth is going on here?”

Cable flicked the man’s ear. There was a little blood. “What do you say, asshole?”

“I’m sorry, Dr. Sharpe!” Jimmy said, grimacing when Cable twisted his ear again. “I’m sorry I switched out your supplies!”

“What else did you want to tell her?”

Jimmy flinched, shying away from Cable as far as he could without running the risk of being flicked on the ear again. “I’ll get you what you paid for, no charge!”

“And?”

“And I’ll buy the placebos back!”

“ And? ”

“And I won’t do it again, I swear!”

Cable slapped him on the back of the head, pushing him towards her. “Now give her the money.”

Jimmy tossed Vivian a hefty roll of cash, which she caught easily. She didn’t bother to count it. Cable would have made sure it was the correct amount.

Cable grabbed Jimmy by the back of his shirt and pulled him towards the door. “Get out of here, and make sure I don’t have to come after you again.”

Jimmy scurried out of the bar, spurred on by bar patrons throwing beer bottles at him. They’d all heard that he’d stiffed their doctor (thanks to Weasel’s loose tongue), and they weren’t happy about it. Who else was going to remove their stitches without pulling and not charge them thousands of dollars like real hospitals do?

Vivian stuck her head out the door to watch him run off, chuckling when she caught sight of the wet spot on Jimmy’s jeans. To be fair, peeing himself was the appropriate response.

Vivian shut the door behind her. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a merc make a mark apologize to me.”

Cable shrugged. “Yeah, well, he was a scumbag. Needed to learn a little humility.”

Vivian couldn’t disagree with that. Most of the people she associated with were scumbags - some more so than others. And yet, some of them weren’t so bad.

Vivian supposed she should pay him for a job well done. She peeled off a section of the roll of cash. “This is what I owe you. Count behind me and make sure it’s right.”

He waved her off. “Keep it.”

What was it with Wade and his weird friends not letting her pay them?

Vivian sighed. “Between you and Wade, I swear… I’ll get a bad reputation if people keep doing work for me for free.”

“I didn’t do it for free,” Cable said, staring at her with those piercing eyes. “You stitched me up the other night. Damn good job, too. The scar’s not even that bad.”

Vivian shook her head. “Wade took care of your bill last week. Next excuse?”

He huffed. “Well, I just…”

Cable didn’t give her an answer, just shuffled from one foot to the other, looking just past her. Vivian suspected that Cable had several reasons for not taking payment from her. Maybe he had some kind of sense of loyalty for Wade, maybe he had some feeling of duty towards her. Damn mercenaries never could talk about their feelings. Whatever the reason, she knew she was going to have to bother him to take her money in the future.

Perhaps in her determination to read his emotions, Vivian stared Cable down too hard. Everything about him was just… entrancing. A little terrifying. Exhilarating. He caught her stare and didn’t look away.

Out of the corner of her eye, Vivian caught blood dripping from his ungloved hand.

“Give me your hand.”

Cable didn’t ask why, he just held out his hand (albeit warily). His knuckles were split and scraped, like he’d tried to swing on someone and hit a wall instead, probably done while dragging Jimmy into her medical room. Vivian took his hand between her own and did her best to look away from his face.

She held his hand for a full minute and let the cold energy emanating from her hands wrap around his. He jumped when his hand got cold, but didn’t pull away.

When she released his hand, he pulled away, hand completely healed. He inspected the fresh pink flesh covering his knuckles. “You’re a healer?”

“Only a little bit. It’s just a secondary ability.”

“Why don’t you use it more often? Seems like it would save some time instead of poking and stabbing all these people.”

“I’m kind of stretching to do it now, honestly. I have the ability to reject events - trees falling over, pianos falling out of windows. It doesn’t work with organic material, for the most part.”

“So how are you doing it now?”

Vivian shrugged. “I don't know. Sometimes it just works. Usually, I have to be pretty stressed, or… really need it to work.”

“Well, I know you’re pretty stressed…”

Ah. So that’s why he wouldn’t accept his payment. She hadn’t pegged Cable for a sentimental type, but that just added a new layer to his otherwise gruff and stoic facade. A shame; it made it that much harder for Vivian not to like him.

Vivian quirked an eyebrow. “Alright, what’s Wade told you?”

Cable grimaced. He must have realized that he’d hit a nerve. “Enough.”

“Explain.”

He explained in that sort of way that Vivian could only describe as infuriatingly stoic. She was beginning to think that this was his own special brand of macho. “Two jobs, two kids, and you never sleep.”

“That it?”

“Isn’t that enough?”

So Wade must have left it at that. Very few people were privy to the full situation. He might have loose lips sometimes, but Wade was unfailingly loyal.

Good boy, Wade.

“And that’s why you won’t let me pay you.”

Cable looked like a man who’d been cornered. Which, he had been. “I didn’t really have to do much. Not like ol’ Jimmy was was hard to bring in or anything. You’ve got other things to worry about that paying me for that.”

Vivian was accustomed to fighting for every good thing in her life. Perhaps she was finally being given something good for once.

“You have a good heart for a mercenary,” she said, folding her arms across her chest. “Wade keeps good friends.”

He gave her the tiniest of smiles - so small that she would have missed it had she not been physically unable to look away from his face. “If you need me to do anything else…”

“You’re first on the list, Cable. Thank you.”

Vivian had met Cable three times now, and in those three times, she’d figured out pretty quickly that she was going to have a tough time keeping her head on straight where he was concerned. She’d been denying herself the prospect of dating or even feeling for so long; denying the desire for emotional or physical care. She had an undeniable attraction to Cable; he was gruff, stoic, intense . It wouldn’t be so bad if he was attracted to her, too…

Vivian had never made a single decision that wasn’t calculated and planned down to the minute. She’d learned the hard way that missteps could be fatal, and she couldn’t afford to lose anything else.

And yet, as Cable turned to leave, Vivian made one of the most impulsive decisions she’d ever made in her entire life.

Vivian called his name and stopped him. “Can I buy you a beer?”

“No…”

Vivian couldn’t pretend that didn’t sting a little bit.

“… but you can let me buy you one.”

He grinned. Not the tiny half-grin from a minute ago, but a real smile. And just like that, Vivian knew she wouldn’t be able to guard her heart from this one, not if he wanted it.

[makistar2018]

10 Years Later, Taylor Swift’s ‘Fearless’ Still Slaps

When it was released in 2008, Swift’s sophomore album launched a thousand takes. Today, it’s best remembered as a simple time capsule

By LAUREN M. JACKSON November 12, 2018

Taylor Swift during the "Fearless" tour at Madison Square Garden on August 27, 2009 in New York City.

Theo Wargo/WireImage for New York Post

Like Propel water, The Scarlet Letter and mechanical pencils, Taylor Swift’s Fearless pairs well with the sporadic squeak of team-issued sneakers, overpriced hot lunches and the kind of angst that defines comfortably suburb-bound teenage years. Sliding open the album on Spotify with my iPhone 8, I can still feel my limbs stretched in all directions, hear the snap-crackle-pop of a dozen adolescent girls’ joints going through the motions of yet another warm-up to what would become the soundtrack of my high school varsity dance team’s inner and outer lives, as well as leave poptimism forever changed.

I am 27 now, still anxious but inflexible, no longer clinging (as) tightly to singular albums to tell the emotional landscape of my life — but back then, Fearless was god. Swift was barely into legal teenagedom when compiling her sophomore album’s original 13 tracks, but more than the happenstance near-synonymy of our ages (I’m younger by 1 year, 6 months, 27 days), the four-walled, high school claustrophobia induced by the album is a matter of skilled musical mood setting. From the first downbeat of the inaugural title track to the last flippantly rebellious “hallelujah” on “Change,” Swift traps us in the mind of an ungainly teen as she was once trapped, as I was, as so many others wading the ambiguity between comportment and desire that doesn’t quite end when gowns come on and caps fly up.

Like so many notebook pages on the golden screen, Fearless is filled with boys. Stans and haters have their theories, but I like to think of each song as an archetype, less true stories of relationships gone sour than a young woman’s true to life hetero-ethnography. There are the boys who do good — the “Fearless,” “Love Story,” “Hey Stephen,” “The Best Day” boys (the last a tribute to Dad) — the boys who nurture and love intensely. They do all the usual country boy things, all the usual cinematic things: driving slow, kissing in the rain, flouting archaic inter-familial squabbles. They honor their promises and, most of all, leave the narrator better changed for her affection.

These boys who do good are short-lived. By Track 2, “Fifteen,” we’re already checking in to Heartbreak Hotel for the upteenth time with an account of that age generic enough to warrant a fan-made montage of clips from Degrassi: The Next Generation. The song tells an allegedly universal story of freshman year woes, complete with riding in cars with senior boys who also play football (because of course). It’s saccharine, sung in the vernacular of normative coupling that would become Swift’s enemy in the gossip pages. But the limited lexicon is not necessarily untruthful. “Fifteen” has aged about as well as anyone would expect, but some of those refrains make me yearn for arms long enough to slap all the powers that be responsible for belittling the whims of young girls. And according to the greater duration of Fearless — tracks like “White Horse,” “Breathe,” “Tell Me Why,” “You’re Not Sorry,” “The Way I Loved You,” and “Forever & Always” — the greatest threat to the happiness of teen girls are boys.

November 2008 looks rosy from here. America had just elected its first black president, the man who promised too much hope and change to possibly be true, but faith felt good back then. Men had committed just five mass shootings over the past year with one more on the way in December (2018 has 307 mass shootings to its name so far). The nation boasted just under 150 recognized active white supremacist groups (that number would climb to over 1,000 during Obama’s presidency). Global finance was in crisis but cable networks were still winning Emmys. Amy Winehouse was alive. Kanye still made sense and a bright-eyed, hair-tousled new country darling was exclusively concerned with dating, rather than local politics. 

Like any celebrity who is also a woman, but also in a lane quite her own, Swift’s relation to mainstream feminism wanes and waxes with the season. A female artist beloved by the girls for whom her songs are written, Swift and her music are therefore more scrutinized, more rigorously excavated for signs of harmful messaging than her male singer-songwriter peers. Fearless frayed Swift’s reputation in a way that wouldn’t let up for years, if ever, largely because of its critical success. Swift took home four Grammys at the 2010 awards, including Album of the Year, beating the Dave Matthews Band’s Big Whiskey and the GrooGrux King, The Black Eyed Peas’ The E.N.D., Beyoncé’s I Am… Sasha Fierceand, most egregiously, Lady Gaga’s debut studio album, The Fame. The perceived slight invited robust inquiry into this supposed album of the year, and the aesthetic discrepancy between the two quickly turned to politics. 

Autostraddle’s Riese called Swift “a feminist’s nightmare,” the enemy of “brave, creative, inventive, envelope-pushing little monsters” everywhere. An accompanying infographic, “a symbolic analysis” of Swift’s works to date, cataloged her most damning motifs, including “virginal” imagery, “the stars,” “crying,” and the 2AM hour. At Jezebel, Dodai Stewart agreed that Gaga was the rightful winner, speculating that in a race between “Gaga the liberal versus Taylor the conservative,” the latter “makes the Academy feel more comfortable.” One joy of pop culture is the revelation of how melodramatically things can change. Last month, Swift announced her endorsement of Tennessee Democrats Phil Bredesen and Jim Cooper for the midterm elections; meanwhile, Lady Gaga hews the path of glamorous respectability on her lengthy A Star Is Born Oscar campaign. 

Feminist readings of Fearless weren’t wrong, exactly. Allies on the album come in strictly male form, while other girls are competition for Swift’s persecuted first person. Even the red-headed bestie Abigail becomes a lesson in chastity, losing her virginity — “everything”! —to the boy who broke her heart (the foil to Swift’s main character, whose dreams of living in a big ole city protect her from such a fate). The charting single “You Belong With Me” is a bouncy jaunt through the valley of me versus those other girls. The video that won Best Female Video at the MTV Video Music Awards over Beyoncé’s “Single Ladies” — to seismic effect — stars Swift as both the frizzy blonde, bespectacled weirdo in band and the sleek brunette cheerleader with the man (Lucas Till who now plays MacGyver on CBS). In true romantic comedy fashion, Good Swift, clothed in white, ends up with the guy in the end, defeating Bad Swift, whose only crimes it seems are great taste in footwear and not appreciating her high school boyfriend’s likely moronic sense of humor. Both the song and video became emblematic of a kind of Swiftian all-for-one girl power. Her 2017 video for “Look What You Made Me Do” resurrects and buries all sorts of Swiftisms, including the iconography of the uncool girl who features so heavily in the Fearless-era of her oeuvre. 

Pop music exists not to elevate our souls or our politics, but to safely wade in the muck of our pettiest appetites, whether they come with trap drums or in serenades. Pop music deserves interrogation, but it will never exceed us. Fearless was a diary, sounding like the selfishness that bubbles up regardless of one’s intellectual or political guards against it.  The debate it ignited wouldn’t happen were it released today, amidst all this. It’s a relic of a time when determining exactly what an album meant, culturally and aesthetically, was a crucial discussion to have in public, when nuance had stakes. Compared to the basic moral tenets we now expend so much of our energy defending, such communal acts of criticism feel small and regretfully scarce. Fearless was a moment, now relegated to a time capsule, no longer a prompt.   

Rolling Stone