#here is chapter 4!

[twilightkitkat]

Part 3 of thinking about the reaction another universe's Logan would have to meeting Wade. To Wade and Logan's relationship.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

---

Logan hadn't left Wade's side since he got here. Eventually, Wade managed to convince him to calm down enough that he could briefly explain to the X-men that this was his Logan, the one from his universe, who came looking for him.

His Logan hovered close to him, practically plastered to his side as if he'd disappear the second he took his eyes off him. Other-Logan was nowhere to be seen.

Eventually, they returned to Wade's room for the night. The X-men offered Logan a room of his own, but he point-blank refused.

When Wade crawled into the twin-sized bed (which definitely wasn't big enough to comfortably fit two people), Logan slipped under the covers behind him. Logan pressed his nose to Wade's neck and released a shaky breath of relief.

He could finally relax now that he was alone, away from the probing crowd that reminded him too much of memories he'd rather leave in the past. Now that he could focus on Wade. His scent, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and the sound of his breathing.

The exhaustion hit Logan like a truck. He'd barely gotten any sleep in the past month Wade's been missing, and when he did it was fitful and left him feeling inexplicably more tired when he awoke. He didn't realize how much he depended on the comfort of Wade's presence to sleep until it was gone.

(When he was alone, it reminded him of being back in his universe. Of waking up in the middle of the night, claws unsheathed, breathing wildly. Of realizing he was completely alone, that everyone he cared about was dead. Of popping open a bottle of liquor just to silence the noise of his own thoughts.)

Wade reminded him that he was in a new universe, now. That he wasn't alone. Logan wrapped his arms around him, securely (tight enough to not let him escape) and finally, finally, let himself breathe.

Wade hummed, content at feeling the hot breath of Logan on his neck as he drifted off to sleep. For the first time in a month, he felt warm. He felt safe. He felt comforted, knowing that Logan was here with him. Apparently having a life-sized human heater spoiled him and made it difficult to stomach sleeping alone.

They both fell asleep, comforted by the familiarity of each other's presence.

(It was the best sleep either of them had in weeks.)

---

The aftermath was just a little bit awkward.

Logan hardly left his side, warily glaring at anyone who came to disturb their peace as they went about their day. He seemed to still be on edge around the other X-men (and anyone who wasn't Wade in general).

Wade was sure it would be difficult for him to interact with them, too, if he'd seen and come to terms with all of their deaths. Of being responsible for the downfall of an alternate version of them. It must be jarring to see them alive and well, to see a distortion of the future he could've had with caricatures of his friends.

(It made Wade a little anxious to think that Logan was remembering it all. Reminiscing on a better time before Wade came and took him away from his world.)

Despite the companionship they'd built, Other-Logan had been making himself scarce. Wade was a little concerned about him, but he was more focused on his own version, who'd been acting as his own personal guard dog. (If a guard dog was 300 pounds and a fully grown man.)

Still, sometimes when they passed by each other, he swore he saw that same look in Other-Logan's eyes. The one he still had difficulty deciphering, but recognized as meaningful.

The one his Logan had in the first few weeks of living together. After they'd saved the world. (Maybe even before it.)

(He tried not to think too hard about it.)

The other X-men were just dancing around them. They seemed to be unsure of how to interact with a Logan so similar and yet so completely different from their own. The only member of the X-men who knew about this Logan's backstory was Wolverine and... let's just say it wasn't getting out anytime soon.

It was almost funny to watch their attempts to start a conversation with Logan only to be met with short, one-word responses. Almost. (It wasn't funny to feel how Logan tensed up next to him, how he smoothed over his expression and put himself on guard. To see the slight trembling of his clenched fists. To see the haunted looks in his eyes.)

And so they ended up accidentally (or purposefully, on Logan's part) avoiding everyone for the first few days.

Wade hadn't gone out on any missions in that time. Logan didn't seem like he was in any mood to go out with the others, and, quite frankly, neither was Wade. He didn't realize how much he missed Logan until he was here.

(And a part of him was relieved that Logan was choosing to stay with him. That he clung to him tightly and didn't seem to be tempted to go rubbing elbows with the other X-men anytime soon.)

He'd managed to fill Logan in after they first crashed from exhaustion together. Logan seemed equal parts concerned and relieved to find out that he'd been stranded because his device was broken. (Because that meant Wade wasn't kidnapped or in danger. Because that meant Wade didn't want to leave him behind.)

They'd been sleeping in the same bed ever since. Anytime the X-men brought up moving Logan to another room, a nicer one with a bigger bed, he just growled and muttered that he didn't need it. One time, they'd offered to move another twin-sized bed into Wade's room so that they could at least have their own place to sleep, but Logan gruffly and very quickly turned that down too.

They hadn't tried to separate them since.

Even when Charles Xavier himself called Logan into his office the morning after he arrived, Logan didn't seem to consider leaving Wade behind as an option. And so they'd both stumbled into the office, suspiciously pressed close together, to report Logan's arrival.

Not that Wade was complaining. He'd offer to be Wolvie's emotional support teddy bear any day. (Even if he got dragged around roughly like a toddler who didn't learn to play nice with or share their toys yet.)

Charles had looked at them oddly, a mix of what could only be described as surprise and then understanding crossing over his face. He didn't comment on Wade's presence, nor Logan's insistence to keep him close by.

(He'd pulled aside the other X-men shortly after and told them to not bother this Logan too much. That he'd been through things their Logan hadn't and that he wouldn't be very receptive to their presence. To not comment on his relationship with Wade and to let them be.)

(It had aroused a mixture of confusion and suspicion among the X-men. Scott and Jean exchanged concerned glances with each other. What could cause Logan to want to avoid them, even in another universe? What did Logan go through to be so wary of them? To rely on Deadpool, of all people, for emotional support?)

(And why was their Logan influenced as well?)

After that, things had gone fairly smoothly. Wade occasionally still annoyed Colossus, who'd begun to reluctantly accept his presence (and who Logan was the least on guard around, out of all of the X-men). It drew skeptical glances from the other X-men, who were surely wondering what reason Wade had to be bothering Colossus, of all people.

But other than that, they mainly kept to themselves.

Until today, that is.

Today, the other X-men had finally managed to find a lead on the man who'd KO'd Wolverine and Deadpool, shattering Wade's pathway back to his own universe. Apparently, he'd set up a new base, this time with better-equipped personnel.

Seemed the asshole wasn't working alone. Of fucking course. When Wade wanted a fight all he could find were pussies, but It couldn't ever be easy when Wade actually wanted to go home. Just his luck.

It was large-scale enough that the majority of the X-men were preparing to go on the raid. Not a good sign.

Of course, Wade had saddled in and prepared to go the second they said they had a lead. And of course, by default, that meant Logan was coming with him.

They'd both rested enough, and while they were slightly on edge, Wade doubted that was going to go away anytime soon until they got back to their own universe. It'd be better to just rip the bandaid off and get this shit over with so that they could curl up on their shitty pull-out couch and eat leftovers and let themselves decompress from whatever the fuck this mission was turning into.

After a quick debrief in which they essentially went over everyone's roles and the layout of the base (or what they knew of it, at least) they set off.

Logan and Wade were paired together, luckily (well, most likely intentionally from the sharp glare Logan shot everyone when they began discussing their roles). They were tasked with clearing out the enemies and working their way to the main base, which was unsurprising given their tank-like abilities and healing factors.

Wade stared out the window for most of the ride there (and Logan stared at Wade) and before he knew it, they'd arrived.

And wow. The villains had really outdone themselves in the cliche base department. If the abandoned nuclear power plant was basic, the shady abandoned military facility was the equivalent of a white girl who liked Starbucks and listened to Taylor Swift. Completely predictable and not at all original.

They all split off into smaller, individual teams and, after a quick confirmation, they went in.

The henchmen this time were vaguely impressive. Well, impressive in the sense the typical office worker was impressive compared to a 10-year-old. It actually took more than 5 seconds for Logan and Wade to clear out the first wave.

But a run-of-the-mill decent group of villains was no match for Wade and Logan's teamwork. If Other-Wolverine and Deadpool worked like a well-oiled machine, this Deadpool and Wolverine worked like they were fucking telepaths. Completely in sync, predicting each other's attack patterns and weaving in and out like they shared a set of strings puppeteering them.

(It caused a few of the X-men to stop and stare to watch. It was brutal and grotesque and... beautiful, in way, to see how quickly they plowed through the villains. The X-men knew teamwork—they were accustomed to it, with the whole superhero team shtick—but not this type of partnership. This type of innate, primal fluidity that allowed them to move as one.)

Before long, with a suprising lack of resistance, given this was supposed to be The Villain Base (although, to be fair, they did have the X-men playing cleanup crew around them and taking care of the rest), they finally made their way into what could only be reffered to as some sort of fucked-up evil lab.

The walls were lined with shady medical equipment and some type of alien technology, and, to no one's surprise, the same fucker as last time was standing in the center.

"Nice to see you again, Deadpool," he nodded. "And... nice to meet you, Wolverine."

OK, hold on a second. He thought it was weird that this guy knew his name the first time considering he was, y'know, new around these parts, but he'd brushed it off. Maybe there was an alternate version of him running around (even if he hadn't heard of one despite interrogating an absurd number of people connected to the underground). But to know that this was an alternate version of Wolverine, just upon seeing him?

It's like the asshole predicted their arrival in this dimension.

Wade tensed slightly, and judging by a glance at Logan next to him, he'd picked up on that discrepancy too.

"Hey, Cable 2.0. Or should I call you Evil Cable? Cable the destroyer? Actually, calling you Cable would be an insult to his brand. How about generic futuristic villain #46," Wade quipped, trying to steel his nerves and school his expression back into a grin.

"I assure you, I'm nothing like this Cable you speak of," the man replied, calmly, "If he were similar to me, you wouldn't be standing here right now."

"Oooooh, scary, I think I almost pissed my pants! Quick, Wolvie, hide me, I'm quivering in my boots!" Wade ducked behind Logan, voice rising high from mock-fear. Logan merely grunted, but allowed him to hide behind him for the bit. (See, even Logan must agree he's funny if he's playing along.)

The man blinks at them, clearly unimpressed, before raising his gun. Okay, so they're getting right into it. Fun.

Logan unsheathed his claws and Wade gripped his guns tightly.

And then the fight behind.

This Logan and Wade had better teamwork compared to the last encounter. Their teamwork was down to a science, or a particularly bloody work of art.

Unfortunately, this time, their opponent knew their attack patterns. He was deflecting their attacks with ease, using minimal effort to dodge even while they ganged up on him.

This went on for a few moments, making barely any progress aside from wasting time. Until, a growl was heard from behind them—

—and another Wolverine joined the mix.

"I can you're struggling a bit, bub, let me help you out," he grunted, slashing at the villain.

"Awww! I'd be swooning right now if not for the fact it'd get me killed!" Wade chirped back, dodging a bullet that shot his way.

His Logan growled slightly and landed next to him, before murmuring, "Focus on the fight. Stop getting distracted."

Wade pouted in response but followed dutifully to attack the villain with Logan.

Their group teamwork was actually fairly impressive, in Wade's opinion. Which wasn't surprising, given that two of the members had near-identical fighting styles and both were used to working with him.

The two Wolverines clashed a bit at first, aiming for the same spots and directing annoyed growls at each other. But after Wade finally made them calm down ("Woah woah woah, ladies, there's enough hits to go around! This isn't Fortnite, you aren't going for the Battle Royale. Let's all work together, yeah?") they fell into a better rhythm.

They were holding up fairly well, even managing to make leeway and push the man back. They were on the winning side of the fight (which they better be on, with Deadpool and two fucking Wolverines trying to kill him). "Were" being the key word.

Because, right as they seemed to be tiring out the asshole, he pulled a move nobody expected. He leaped back, suddenly, creating distance, and grabbed a suspicious-looking metal device from the table.

All three of them exchanged glances and seemed to be on the same page: Do Not Let The Fucker Use It, Whatever It Is.

And so they all leaped at once, claws and guns and knives blazing, until the man sidestepped and with a clink had attached the device to Wolverine's neck. To his Logan's neck.

It folded out into a sickeningly familiar shape.

Fuck.

Logan's claws retracted and a panicked look flashed in his eyes despite his angry posture.

It was an ability-restricting collar.

And Wade had a feeling it wouldn't be as easy as punching in the code "7" to get it off, considering the futuristic, sturdy, and significantly more complicated-looking design.

The man picked Logan up by the back of the neck of his suit with an inhuman strength (had he been holding back, before?) and Wade saw fucking red.

Before he could think, he was unloading a full magazine into the man's chest and head. But the bullet wounds just closed up and the shells fell to the ground uselessly.

He saw the fear in Logan's eyes. At being powerless.

A reflection of how Wade felt, strapped to that table. Tortured. (Francis' voice rang in his ears. "What's my name?")

Wade lunged, trying to dig his katanas into the man's side. He dodged, stepped to the side, and blocked as Wade desperately, frantically tried to injure him. Just enough to let Logan go.

"Get your filthy hands off of him, you son of a bitch, or I swear to God I will tear you limb from limb like a 5 year old's shitty Barbie doll!" Wade snarled, a venom in his voice that made Logan's eyes widen from in his hold.

(A venom that made the Logan behind him look astonished, too. It'd always been him as the protector, the stronger one. He always had to carry the burden of worry, of solving the problem. And yet, here was a version of him with someone to do the same for him. Someone who would go to hell and back for him in the same way he had to, countless times.)

(That familiar ache was back.)

"I don't think I will," the man hummed, side-stepping yet another attack. "As a matter of fact, I'm getting quite bored of this back-and-forth."

Suddenly, the man held up a knife (where did that come from?) to Logan's throat. Logan, who didn't have his healing factor right now. Logan, who was just as vulnerable as any other human right now.

(Logan, who was looking at him with terror in his eyes. Logan, who had wanted death for so long, pressing himself against the barrel of his gun and fucking laughing the first time they'd met. Logan, who, through all the blood and sweat and tears and sacritice, had finally found a reason to live again. Logan, who didn't want to die anymore. Who wanted to live with Wade.)

It was like the world stopped turning. It was the same feeling Wade had felt the night Vanessa died, all noises drowned out and all colors and shapes blurring together and ohgodohgodohgod she's dead she's gone it's all my fault I never should've met her to begin with— but this was worse, somehow. It didn't just feel like the rug had been pulled out from underneath his feet, it felt like the entire fucking ground crumbled apart, collapsing in on itself, leaving him tumbling closer and closer to Earth's core until he's burned alive and swallowed whole. It felt like drowning and suffocating and burning alive all at once. It felt like losing his very foundation, the one thing he allowed himself to cling on to, thinking he'd never have to say goodbye. It felt like all his worst fears and nightmares came true in the worst possible way.

It felt like dying.

"Now," the man started, not giving a damn about Wade's internal panic and the incessant ringing in his ears, "We can do this the easy way or the hard way."

Why was Other-Logan just standing there? Why wasn't anyone moving? Why was nothing happening? How could the world keep spinning when it felt like his world was in limbo right now, powerless and dangled between the claws of a monster, threatening to drop him into its maw?

"You can let me go with your buddy right here, or I kill him now and you never see him again. Understood?" the man tightened his grip around Logan's throat, who began hacking slightly. The knife nicked his skin slightly, creating a trail of red down his neck. Logan hissed in pain.

Wade wanted nothing more than to tear his fucking throat out in response.

But he clenched his fists instead, feeling his blunt nails dig into his skin even through the suit.

"Wade, just let me go, you can come get me later, yeah?" Logan wheezed, barely able to speak around the constricting grip.

"But—he could—Logan, no, I can fight him, I can, I won't let you sacrifice yourself again," Wade fumbled over his words, unable to focus on anything but Logan Logan Logan.

"I'm not sacrificin' myself, just," his voice was rough and heavy, "let me go. You can't win, Wade. I'm not going to watch you die trying to save me."

"But—"

"You heard him," the Wolverine behind him suddenly spoke, putting a hand on his shoulder. (Wade wanted to rip it off. It was wrong wrong wrong, so similar and yet too different from his Logan. His Logan, who had deeper callouses. His Logan, whose hands were rougher and gripped him firmly.) "He'll kill him if we fail to fight him now."

Why was everybody else okay with this? Why did everyone else seem so calm when it felt like Wade's world was imploding, his vision was narrowing, and his senses were going haywire?

(Logan could get hurt. Seriously. Not just superficially. He could be tortured like he was. Wade didn't like knowing Logan was in pain, even with his healing factor, but without it? He could be killed. Even if the man kept his promise right now, who's to say it holds up in an hour? A day? A week? Wade couldn't even comprehend living that long without knowing if Logan was dead or alive. Logan could die and he wouldn't know, because he'd be outside of his reach.)

Wade caught Logan's eyes.

Fuck.

He was scared too, Wade could tell, but putting on a brave face for him. Trying to calm Wade down, when Logan was the one getting kidnapped. He was fucking pathetic. (It really was God's Greatest Joke that he couldn't die, huh?)

Wolverine tensed beside him, ready to hold him back if needed. Wade bit his lip until it fucking bled and finally managed to mumble, "Fine."

"What was that?" the man gloated.

"Fine," Wade hissed. "But I'll be back to get him, and I swear to fucking God, if a single hair on his head is out of place, I'll eviscerate you. I'll make sure you wish you didn't have a healing factor, because I'll torture you until you're begging to die. And then finally, I'll snap that shitty collar onto your neck and kill you in the most painful way possible.

The man seemed unphased. But it was a promise. A promise Wade would keep even if his life depended on it. Even if he had to drag himself out of his own grave, regenerate his limbs from scratch, claw his way out of hell, he would make him suffer if he did anything to Logan.

Logan's eyes widened from in the man's grasp. Wade looked at him, a dark expression on his face. Letting him know how serious he was. (That Wade would do anything for him, to keep him safe. To keep him by his side. That if he got hurt, he'd murder every fucking person involved.)

Logan's eyes shone with realization, a vague spark of hope. It made Wade all the more desperate to save him, to live up to those expectations.

"Well, I hate to interrupt the moment, but I really must be going," the man commented.

It took all of Wade's willpower not to lunge at him. Not to attack him as he picked up a suitcase and walked away, yanking Logan alongside him by the back of his neck.

Logan's haunted yet trusting (despite it all, he had faith in Wade, even when he let him get hurt in the first place) eyes were the last thing Wade saw before they dissapeared.

Wade wanted to go after them, to chase them, but he knew better. The other X-men weren't here right now. If all three of them barely managed to hold up against this man, how would the remaining two beat him? And who knew whatever other tricks were up his sleeves.

He was unpredictable. He was dangerous.

Wade knew this, but—

He should've been faster. He should've taken the hit instead of Logan (even if it seemed the man was targeting him to begin with). He should've been better, should've been stronger. Should've prevented Logan from being taken in the first place.

His knees buckled underneath him and he collapsed to the floor. The Other Wolverine startled behind him, dropping to the floor with him and wrapping his arm around Wade for support.

Wade felt the same, desolate, useless feeling wash over him that he had when he'd cradled Vanessa's dead body. He'd failed. Again. He had so much time to learn and do better and yet he still failed. It was all his fault. Everything was his fault.

He should've just brought Logan with him to begin with. Should've swallowed his fears and sucked it up, even if Logan did want to leave him. Logan was a grown man, he could make his own choices. He could realize that his current life, his life with Wade, wasn't worth it if he wanted. He could abandon him and Wade would have no fucking ground to stand on to stop him.

And yet Wade couldn't just fucking swallow his pride and had to behave like a jealous teenager.

(Would it be any different, if they came here together? If they were on the same page from the start, had time to plan and learn together? The man was so fucking strong that even if they had time, Wade was unsure if they'd beat him alone. Maybe they were predestined to fail. All because of Wade's incompetence.)

"Hey," Other-Logan started to speak in a low, worried tone, "We'll get him back. I promise."

He had a concerned and vaguely unsure look on his face, clearly unused to trying to comfort someone. Here's another Logan, comforting Wade when his feelings shouldn't even be a priority to begin with.

"It's my fault," Wade muttered.

"What?"

"It's my fucking fault. Everything is my fault. I should've gotten kidnapped instead. At least if he took me, I could take it."

"Wade—"

"I mean, it's no big deal if I get tortured. I'm used to it. At least I'd fucking deserve it for the stupidity of getting my communication device broken. At least then I'd be the only one hurt, and it's not like I matter anyway."

"Wade, what are you—"

Wade continued to ramble on, frantically, tears collecting in his eyes and threatening to fall down his face, "It should've been me. Logan is a fucking hero, he has a place in the world. He shouldn't be hurt just because of my mistake. I dragged him into this shit, into my universe, and how do I repay him? By letting him get fucking kidnapped and tortured on my behalf!" Wade had to physically force himself to not devolve into full-body sobs at this point, trembling underneath Logan's hand on his shoulde. Rocking back and forth like a lunatic.

"Wade, just listen for one fucking sec—"

"I should've just killed myself. I should've sacrified myself to destroy the Time Ripper, should've been strong enough to grab both the matter anti-matter channels and dissapeared from existence. At least it'd only be me who's gone, and Logan would still be safe. I never should've dragged him into my shit, I should've been long dead before I even met him. I should've had the balls to snap that collar on my neck and explode myself for real—"

—Slap.

Logan had honest to god slapped him. Hard.

Wade snapped out of his rant, holding his cheek as a deep purple bruise formed. He started hollowly back at Logan.

"Shut the fuck up," Other-Logan growled. "Don't speak about yourself like that. You don't deserve to die. It wasn't your fault, you fucking know that. We all were there, so it's as much on us as it was you. None of us could've seen it coming."

"Rich, coming from you, Mr. Blame Himself in the flesh," Wade retorted, scrambling for any kind of purchase in the conversation.

"I know what you're trying to do. You're trying to make me pissed off enough to let it go. But I won't." Logan took a deep breath, running a frustrated hand through his hair. He finally seemed to collect himself and looked at Wade, his gaze piercing and sharp. "Look, you... you're not worthless. Hell, you're the furthest thing from it. When I'm around you, it feels like I'm actually a person for the first time I can remember. It's like I can finally fucking breathe. And if that's how I feel, when I've known you for just a month, I imagine it's even stronger in your Logan."

Wade started to protest, but Logan cut him off. "None of that, bub. You know I'm right. You can't honestly be that fucking blind to not see the impact you have on him. On me. ...Look, when you've been alive as long as I have, it's inevtiable that you feel lonely. Of fucking course it is, when everyone around you dies and you're the only one left standing." Wade stares at him wordlessly, a hint of understanding in his eyes.

"...But you make it better," Logan settles on. "Do you see the way he looks at you? Like if you're gone, nothing matters? That isn't the look of someone who hates you. I don't, and he sure as hell doesn't. So stop putting yourself down when you fucking know he wouldn't want you blaming youself. You wouldn't blame him if you got captured, would you?"

"...No, but that's—"

"—The exact same scenario. But you're too stuck in your head to realize it." Logan groaned, seemingly lost for words to say. "Look, I'm not the best at this. At saying what I'm feeling. You know this. But what I do say, I mean. And I mean it when I say that it isn't your fault and he'd never blame you. I wouldn't. You shouldn't either."

Wade looked at him, at his sincerity, and for some reason he felt more like sobbing than he did before.

"So let's get him back, yeah?" Other-Logan asked, gruff and hesitant. It felt like a peace offering. An olive branch.

"...Yeah," Wade murmured, and let his body weight fall against Logan, who was beside him now. Logan wrapped an arm around him, hesitantly at first, and then more securely when Wade leaned into it.

Wade curled into him, thoughts running a million miles a minute.

(Where was Logan right now? How far had they gotten? What if he was hurt? What if he was writhing in pain, calling out for Wade, and he wasn't ther? What if he was tortured? What if he was dead?)

(...No, Wade wouldn't let himself imagine the worst-case scenario. Of never seeing Logan again. He wouldn't accept that reality. He couldn't. Didn't know to live, anymore, in a world without him. He'd once tore through different universes and escaped the void, all to save his family. He'd do it again in a heartbeat.)

(He'd get Logan back no matter what.)

[rikugans]

first meeting.

[sskk-manifesto]

so bECAUSE OF THE SSKK BSD SEASON 5 ENDING I WENT OUTSIDE AND STARTED SCREAMING AT 12AM SO NATURALLY SOMEONE THOUGHT I WAS BEING MURDERED AND CALLED THE POLICE AND WHEN THEY GOT HERE I HAD TO GIVE THEM MY EXPLANATION FOR SCREAMING AT 12AM SO I JUST SAID SSKK AND ONE OF THE COPS EYES SUDDENLY GOT REALLY BIG AND THEN HE SAID “AKUTAGAWA IS BACK??!?” AND THEN HE WATCHED THE VIDEO ON HIS PHONE I HAVE A GROWN POLICE MAN SITTING IN MY DRIVEWAY CRYING AND CURSING BONES UNDER HIS BREATH HIS PARTER GAVE HIM A SHOCK BLANKET OH MY GOD

[shizunitis]

What does Wenren È know?

Jack Shit and Fuck All.

and then there’s this second idiot:

the idiot sect. only yanyan has Anything going on in her head at any given time. truly feminist literature

[elderwisp]

◁ || ▷ now playing

Frances: You guys need any extra boxes?

Winona: Probably. Nona has all of these mugs like do we seriously need all fifty million of them?

Aponi: I heard that!

Winona: [ grumbles ] You were supposed to. Lady needs an intervention.

Frances: I think it’s nice to collect little things.

Winona: Are you admitting to me that you’re a hoarder?

Frances: I’m not! So are you excited?

Winona: Sort of. I mean it’ll be cool to have my own bathroom but I dunno. All my friends are here.

Frances: Felt that.

Winona: Frances, are you sure you gotta leave? I could pack you in one of these boxes.

Frances: [ giggles ] Sounds uncomfy.

Winona: I’ll add pillows and blankets.

Aponi: Winona, we’re not putting them in a box. 

Winona: Awh. Fine.

Aponi: Well, it’s that time. Thank you for everything.

Frances: Do either of you need anything from me before I go?

Aponi: No, you’ve been quite the help. Make sure you eat good food, no more ramen packets.

Frances: I promise.

Frances: Take care.

Winona: I’m gonna miss you.

Frances: Me too. Bye now.

[ low rumbling ]

Frances: Icarus? I thought you were working late tonight.

Icarus: I’ll be back. I told them I needed to take care of something first. 

Frances: Everything’s fine. Winona-

Icarus: I’m not sure if I’ll ever see you again and I wanted to… I needed to say bye.

Frances: I-I don’t want to go. 

Icarus: It’s okay.

Frances: I can’t do it.

Icarus: You’ve got big dreams waiting for you, Frances. I’m not gonna hold you back.

Frances: Icarus, please.

Icarus: [ whispers ] Don’t be a stranger.

Frances: I won’t. 

Dan: [ emotionless ] Rough day?

Frances: [ sniffles ] Mhm. You?

Dan: Incredibly rough. 

Frances: Wanna talk about it?

Dan: Not really, you?

Frances: No.

[starkidmunson]

glitter & crimson

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

Eddie picks where they go Wednesday night, since they’re in his city, after all. He insists upon picking Steve up from the hotel, too, since it’s on the way to the Mockingbird from his place.

When he walks into the hotel, Steve is sitting on a sofa in the lobby, waiting for him. They smile at one another and Steve meets him halfway across the room.

“Hey,” Steve greets, biting at his lip and looking over Eddie. “You look nice.”

“You, too.” Eddie says, softly, reaching out to trail his fingers along the soft threading of the cardigan before hooking his arm under Steve’s. “Did you scope out the menu to see if you like anything?”

“I did. The Mockingbird is actually one of the places that popped up when I was trying to find a decent place for us to go tonight, but I wasn’t sure if it would be too hipster-y for you.” Steve admits as they walk out to Eddie’s Jeep.

“It’s a little on the hipster side, but it’s in a really cool part of the city. And it’s close enough to walk to part two of our date.” Eddie grins, opening the passenger door for Steve, who raises his eyebrows and grins.

“Already can’t enough enough of me, huh?” He teases, then waits until they’re both settled and moving out of the parking to follow up. “How is there already a part two when part one hasn’t happened yet?”

“Because while you may not have been paying attention, we’ve gotten really good at this whole ‘grabbing food and drinks’ together thing. So we’ve got to throw a little spice in to make it different.” Eddie says, glancing at Steve and sending him a wink before his eyes divert back to the road.

The ride gives Steve a moment to take everything in. Eddie’s leather jacket, gray button up and signature black jeans. The Jeep, which occurs to Steve is not a rental and is his personal, everyday use car, has a lot of personality. An opal charm hangs from around the rear view mirror, there’s a few guitar picks in the cup holders and a binder of CDs occupies the bin in the passenger door.

“Am I passing the inspection?” Eddie asks after a few street lights, a small smile on his face as Steve flushes. 

“I’m not inspecting anything, I’m just. Curious,” He admits, makes a show of looking around before looking back at Eddie and teasing, “it’s a lot cleaner than I expected for your car.” 

Eddie laughs out loud at that, shakes his head, and bites his lip before answering. “Jeff gave me shit about cleaning it out before you got in, but it wasn’t that much worse than this. I basically cleaned receipts and straw wrappers out the cup holders.” He explains, and both of them relax as Steve reaches over to rub at Eddie’s arm closest to him.

They’re in deep conversation across the table from one another as their meal arrives, and it feels exactly like every other time they’ve been out for dinner except that it’s not, somehow, and Steve can’t think of how to explain that it’s weird without being weird at all. Eddie’s all hand-gestures and wide eyes and grins as he explains what it’s been like recording the band’s newest music, and Steve gets lost in the other’s excitement. It’s easy to do, and it’s a place Steve doesn’t mind finding himself. Eddie is music; his laugh, a melody. While Steve’s decidedly not the musician among them, he makes his best efforts to keep the performance alive.

The conversation shifts to how Steve’s feeling, riding the high of his return to the ice. It’s still strange for him to think about, really, so he doesn’t have much to contribute other than that he’s processing.

“And I should thank you, by the way,” Steve says, reaching over the table to settle his hand over Eddie’s, thumb brushing over his knuckles softly. “I figure it’s your reaction that got everyone on their feet. Can’t say I’ll ever experience anything like that ever again, so. Thank you.”

Eddie flushes, bites at his lip and turns his hand over under Steve’s to wrap fingers gently around his wrist. “I think it had everything to do with you. I’m just happy you were able to get back to doing what you love.”

That warmth returns to Steve’s chest, and he squeezes Eddie’s wrist back, but decides they have to change the topic or he’ll either get too sentimental for a first date or teary; neither of which he’s hoping for tonight.

“So, what’s next on the agenda?” He asks once their plates have been cleared away and the meal paid for. “I believe you mentioned a part two?”

Eddie grins and raises his eyebrow across the table.

“How do you feel about arcade games?”

~~~

“This is so much more than just arcade games, Eddie.” Steve laughs as they walk into a black brick building. It obviously used to be some kind of warehouse but it had been transformed into a massive barcade, with vintage games and pinball machines, indoor bocce ball courts, and even a bowling alley… and that’s just what Steve could see from the front door.

“Too much? We can just go mini-golfing, that’s right around the corner, too.” Eddie offers, looking sheepish. Steve wraps his arm through Eddie’s, pulling him closer as they walk further inside.

“If you think I’m not going to kick your ass at bowling, you’ve got another thing coming.” He teases, grinning wide when Eddie laughs and leads the way to get them shoes and a lane to play in. 

What Steve doesn’t expect, however, is for Eddie to bowl extraordinarily well.

“I feel like I’ve been manipulated into something here,” Steve accuses playfully, kicking a foot in Eddie’s direction without any real intent as the other scored another perfect strike.

“There’s plenty you don’t know about me, Stevie.” Eddie teases, sipping from his drink before he shrugs. “For example, bet you didn’t know that I was on the Hawkins High Bowling Team in 2008.”

“Hawkins had a bowling team?” Steve asks, honestly surprised, earning a bark of a laugh from Eddie. 

“Roane County Champs that year.” Eddie flops into his seat and gestures for Steve to take his turn. He manages a spare, and turns back to Eddie full of new curiosities.

“Just 2008? You were what, a freshman? That’s the only year you played?” He rapid fires through too many questions, unable to keep them inside himself. But Eddie just smiles, seemingly unfazed by the interrogation he’d brought on himself.

“I was a freshman, yeah.” Eddie nods, also racking up a spare before leaning over the score keeper to get a little closer to Steve while maintaining a safe amount of space between them. “Wayne thought it’d be good for me to join a sports team. Make friends. Wasn’t super athletic, and the alley in town had discount Tuesdays, so it was cheap to practice. Joined up, helped win the title. Then Principal Higgins rolled out a participation fee, and we couldn’t afford it anymore. Thus ended Eddie Munson’s athletic career.”

Steve listens intently, considering how different their worlds truly had been. No expense had been spared to make sure Steve had every opportunity available to him in the hockey world, not while he was young. He couldn’t imagine what life would be like if a participation fee had kept him from the hockey team. And here Eddie was, still weirdly good at bowling, having accepted that it was something he’d have to give up.

“I dunno, man, you’re pretty athletic. I’ve seen you jump and run around on stage, remember? I think that’s way more of a workout than my practices or games.” Steve counters, reaching over the score table to trace his fingers over Eddie’s tattooed forearms. The other just narrows his eyes a bit, before giving Steve a soft smile.

“You’re worrying about me missing out on something with bowling, aren’t you?” Eddie asks, reading Steve like a book, but doesn't wait for an answer before hooking his hand under Steve’s elbow to hold him close. “It wasn’t a dream I missed out on, you’re not looking at a would-be pro-bowler or anything. I was okay, and it was a way to pass the time after everything with my parents went down. I ended up using the half of the participation fee Wayne was able to save up to buy my first electric guitar, so. I think it all worked out as it was supposed to.” Eddie explains, and Steve felt a little lighter knowing the other’s perspective.

~~~

“Next time you’re in Nashville, we’ll go to Pins for Duckpin Bowling. Maybe I’ll have less of an advantage.” Eddie teases, then barks out a laugh as Steve grunts loudly.

“You’re eating this up, but I kicked your ass at skee ball and Mortal Combat.” Steve pokes his index finger into the center of Eddie’s chest, glaring at him through a smile.

“Not that you were counting.” Eddie teases, barking out a laugh when Steve rolls his eyes.

Once they’re out of the bar, where the crowd is growing by the moment, Eddie takes a chance and wraps his arm around Steve’s waist. Without a breath of hesitation, Steve leans into Eddie’s body. Eddie’s almost surprised to feel the weight and warmth of a hand at his own waist as Steve returns the gesture, and he can’t help but bite back a smile.

“I’m glad you’re planning on next time already,” Steve eventually says, and while it’s almost certainly meant to be teasing, it sounds soft and sincere.

“You planning on getting rid of me already?” Eddie asks, and finds his own voice to have the same tone. Steve tips his head to the side, meeting Eddie’s eye, before he smiles and shakes his head. 

“Not quite yet, no.” He whispers, then rests his head against Eddie’s arm, gives his waist a soft squeeze and Eddie feels himself float away, impossibly more gone for the man pressed against his side.

Over the ride back to the hotel, Steve and Eddie talk about what their schedules look like for the next few weeks. The Blackhawks have a slim chance at making a Wild Card appearance in the playoffs, which leaves a lot of uncertainty in Steve’s schedule. Eddie, however, is a clean slate until tour rehearsals start in early May. They make preliminary plans for Eddie to head out to the next round of home games in Chicago toward the end of next week, both eager to see one another again as soon as possible.

But then Eddie’s pulling into the hotel parking lot and he stops in the car port, giving Steve a little smile.

“I hate that tonight’s over.” He admits, quietly. Steve smiles back, reaching across the center console to brush a strand of Eddie’s hair behind his ear, out of his face.

“I hate that tonight’s over, too,” Steve says, softly, biting at his lip. “You have no idea how much I wish I didn’t have to fly out tomorrow afternoon. I feel like we just got here.”

Eddie reaches up to hold Steve’s hand by his face, lacing their fingers together. “Well, now you get to get me out on a date in Chicago next week.” 

“You bet your ass I’m doing that,” Steve mumbles back, before he leans in and presses a soft kiss to Eddie’s cheek. “Got big shoes to fill, this was a pretty perfect first date.”

Eddie fights the blush threatening to fill out his cheeks as best as he can, in favor of pulling Steve’s hand in and pressing a soft kiss to the back of it. “Good night, Stevie.” Eddie whispers, and Steve smiles back, returns the goodbye, then climbs out of the car and waves as he makes his way into the hotel lobby.

Once he gets home, Eddie fires off a text to Steve to let him know he’s home safe, then hops into the shower. As soon as he’s clean and mostly dry, he collapses into bed, grinning a little too wide, and falls asleep pretty quickly.

When he wakes up the next morning, it’s to his phone buzzing under his pillow. He answers without looking at it, and grumbles rather than offering a greeting.

“Uh, Eddie?”

It’s Steve’s voice that has him fishing the phone out, looking at the screen to find Steve looking back at him, amused. 

“Did I wake you?” He asks around a grin.

“Shut up,” Eddie huffs out a laugh, rubbing at his eye with the back of his hand before physically rolling himself out of bed and taking his phone with him. “What time is it? I thought you were supposed to be flying out today.”

“I am. That’s not for a few hours, though. I wanted to call and say hello.” Steve explains, and Eddie stretches to crack his back, before he pauses in his walk to the bathroom. 

“I can’t take you with me in there, give me a second.” He mumbles, making Steve laugh again before he puts the phone down on his dresser and takes a quick bathroom break. He’s still drying his hands on his pajama pants when he walks back into frame, but looks a little more coherent as he picks the phone back up. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this early morning phone call?”

“Is 10 o’clock considered early morning?” Steve retorts, just as the door bell rings through Eddie’s house.

“I swear to god, if Gareth forgot his key, he’s lucky you called before he rang that.” Eddie says, redirecting his course of travel from back to his bed to the stairs then the front door.

Steve immediately starts teasing. “It’s cute that you’re so grumpy in the morning. I feel like we’ve definitely talked before 10 and I don’t think you’ve ever been this grumpy.” 

“In my defense, I don’t think you’ve ever woken me up before.” Eddie responds, pulling open his front door and freezing as he’s met with Steve in person before him, chewing at his lip. “Oh. Uh. Hey?”

“Hi,” Steve laughs, hanging up the FaceTime. Eddie’s confused for a moment longer, before he pushes the door open further and invites Steve inside.

“You can, uh, come in. If you have time? I can show you around, if you want. I just… wasn’t expecting you.”

“Kinda the point of a surprise.” Steve smiles, stepping around Eddie and waiting until he’s closed the door to take a step closer. “I have a little bit of time, but I mostly couldn’t get on the plane to leave without…”

Steve pauses and it’s just long enough for Eddie to register that he stopped talking. He turns to look at Steve to make sure he’s okay, just as Steve steps toward him. Hands find his hips, turning Eddie’s body so they’re facing one another, and then Steve’s lips are on his and it feels like time has stopped around them.

Eddie’s reaction is a little delayed, which he’s blaming entirely on his having just woke up, but once he’s with the program again, his left hand slides around to cup the back of Steve’s head, holding him in place while his right hand settles at Steve’s hip. Their mouths work together for a long moment, before Steve pulls back slowly and lets out a heavy breath, licking over his lips and meeting Eddie’s eyes. 

“How long do you have before you have to be at the airport? I can drive you.” Eddie whispers, but his eyes are locked on Steve’s mouth, which makes the other laugh and nod.

“I’ve got, like, three hours.” He assures, and Eddie grins.

“Perfect, that’s plenty of time.” And with that, Eddie’s leaning back in to press another kiss to smiling lips.

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[armoricaroyalty]

Andre’s promises weren’t worth much, but he had never intentionally misled her. (x)

Previous | Chapter Start | Beginning | Next

author's note. :^)

Leonor is, as always, @nexility-sims's wonderful character! She's the star character of her current story.

Transcript under the cut.

[ clock ticking ] ANDRE | ...please don't cry. ANDRE | I'm sorry, darling but it's just not possible. ANDRE | They'll be here tomorrow. Even if you left now... ANDRE | [ voice breaking ] D'you think I don't want you here? ANDRE | This is going to be the most difficult thing I've ever done, and...I wish I didn't have to do it without you. ANDRE | I wish you were here. ANDRE | I wish I weren't alone. ANDRE | And after everything I put them through before.... [ sighs ] I wish I didn't have to do this to them again. ANDRE | I love you, Leo...I love you so much more than I can say. ANDRE | [ sighs ] I should go...it's been a long day. I'll see you soon, okay? ANDRE | I promise.

[itsmebeff]

The Flower King.

[prince-liest]

my toxic character trait is that I think I'm so fucking funny

[sibylsleaves]

you're almost home (i've been waiting for you to come in)

18k | rated M | chapters 3/5 | read on ao3  “You’re really starting over, then,” Eddie says. “That’s what I wanted,” Buck replies. “Clean slate, you know?” “Well, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need,” Eddie says, knocking his shoulder against Buck’s. “That should go without saying.” When Buck had hastily packed his bag and slipped out the door to his Jeep, he hadn’t really known where he was heading for the night. He thought about going to Maddie’s place, or even Albert’s new apartment, but in the end he’d driven himself here—to Eddie’s. Buck moves in. Eddie comes out. Things get a little messy.

start from the beginning

read chapter 3

JULY

“Let’s start heading down so we get a good spot.”

There’s still a half inning left, but the Dodgers’ victory is a foregone conclusion at this point. There are already tons of people milling on the stairways, streaming out from the rows of plastic seats. It’s a little difficult for Chris to navigate the tight walkways and steep stairs, so Buck keeps his hand on his shoulder to steady him as they move through the crowd.

Eddie trails after them, picnic blanket tucked under one arm.

By the time the make it down to the field, the game is over and the gates are unlocked. Fans pour onto the field. Chris finds a good spot, and Buck unfolds the picnic blanket, spreading it out on the grass. His gaze drifts over the other groups clustered around them, mostly young couples and families.

He settles on the blanket next to Eddie, and realizes that’s what they must look like. A family.

He sinks into the fantasy of it. He looks down at where Eddie’s hand rests on the picnic blanket, and he wants to take it. Wants to lean his head against Eddie’s shoulder and watch the sky light up with sparks.

Ever since the morning he woke up in Eddie’s bed, Buck’s been doing a lot of thinking. He’s thought long and hard about what he’s going to do about these feelings, and he’s come to a decision: he’s going to do nothing.

Everything is so good right now—Chris and Eddie and the 118. And Buck. He feels like he can breathe again, like maybe the ground has stopped shifting beneath him and he can finally find his footing again.

The firework show starts, to applause from the whole stadium. Buck grins, looking automatically over at Eddie.

Eddie’s already looking back at him, his gaze dark and steady. When their eyes meet, Eddie smiles, and then tilts his head toward Chris, who is looking up at the fireworks with unbridled delight. The little glance is an invitation—look at this kid, Eddie’s gaze says. Look how happy he is.

Buck knows he’s unspeakably lucky to get to be part of moments like this. To be the person Eddie invites into them.

Bruce Springsteen blasts through the stadium speakers and the sky lights up with showers of sparks and Buck doesn’t need more than this. Just a place here beside Eddie and Chris. He can keep his feelings tucked neatly away if it means he gets to have this.

(keep reading on ao3)

[beachyserasims]

For those who don’t know, Rowan started out his career early on as a model, representing brands for all the extreme sports he did. He hasn’t lost this skill… CLEARLY!

Beginning / Previous / Next

[hanashiz]

Bungou Stray Dogs Light Novel 1 : Dazai Osamu's Entrance Exam

[skellseerwriting]

Pirates and Prejudice (and Dragons)

James Hook x GN! Dragon Rider!Reader Part 5 (End)

Part 1

Reader is disabled (prosthetic foot) and I am not disabled, so if anyone who’s reading this is please let me know if anything is written weirdly or wrongly

Word Count: 4,000

Warnings: Mentions of prosthetics, mention of dragon hunting, brief description of a dragon scar, brief description of being high above the ground (for those with aerophobia), brief detailed description of eating a berry (this gets a whole warning in and of itself), romantic tension, love confessions, kissing,

Summary: Reader makes plans to show Hook what life is like for them as a dragon rider. Reader does this because they’re trying to find the perfect moment to confess to Hook.

Important Note!: “Hands”(plural) is used to describe Hook’s hand AND hook. Except within context of referring his hook(left hand), “hand”(singular) refers to his right hand. Despite the fact that Hook’s prosthetic does not look or function like a hand, it is in place of one, therefore it still IS his hand. The same to be said for reader’s feet and their prosthetic foot still being their foot. If you wore a wig 24/7, you wouldn’t constantly say “wig”. You would probably say “hair” a lot, despite it not being your real hair.

A couple of weeks had gone by since you were at the Jolly Roger, and things were looking up. You and Hook began hanging out more and more, laughing and joking all the while you were together. You were more affectionate, calling each other pet names too. In the meantime, you were planning.

This included a myriad of things: Asking Bridget for some food favors (baked goods, along with some simple food preparation), keeping an eye on the weather report, and taking several flights on Beastie to check out the nearby landscapes.

So far, it was all going well. Except for the nerves.

Each passing day, butterflies grew and grew every time you talked to Hook. Ever since he almost kissed you in his office, you had to exert all your willpower to not grow pink thinking of it. To make it worse, you were almost always reminded whenever you were around him or looking at the necklace he gave you. Multiple times he caught you randomly blushing and would ask with that pretty accent: “What’s got you all flustered, darling?” Making you, in turn, even more flustered.

You could hardly complain though. At least his teasing all-but-confirmed for you that he held you in some sort of romantic regard; you rarely saw him be any kind of flirtatiousness with others, and even then it was surface level.

Why didn’t you just confess and kiss him yet? Great question. It’s because you were scared.

Not necessarily scared that he would reject you, but rather you couldn’t find the right moment to bring yourself to do any of that. So, you were planning something for the two of you. Then, during that, you’d finally make your move.

“James!” You jumped behind him in surprise, clinging your fingers onto his shoulders. He turned around, face lighting up as he saw you.

“Hello Dearie. What is it?” He asked. your hands glided down his arms and into his own, one in his palm and the other curled around his hook.

“Meet me at the entrance gate after school.” You said cheekily. He looked positively bemused.

“Why?”

You brought his hands to your face and gave each a tiny kiss.

“Because I’m going to take you on an adventure!”

He gawked at you; flabbergasted (and turning a lovely shade at the tiny kisses).

“What?” He gasped. Your eyes twinkled.

“I,” you said slowly, beginning to walk away backwards and gently letting go of him. “Am taking you on an adventure. And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

As you moved farther and farther away, Hook’s eyes stayed on yours. Then, right before you turned the corner, you saw the briefest of smiles begin to make its way onto his face.

“So, where are you taking me on this fine afternoon?” Hook asked with his air of usual charm. There was some sort of unsureness behind it, though you couldn’t guess why.

“That,” you quoted him again. “Is something you’ll have to wait for.”

He groaned, eyes rolling, hating having his words used against him. After that, he was in your space again, tugging on your sleeve.

“Surely you can give me something.” He begged, then brought his mouth close to your ear, whispering: “Please, Darling? I would do anything for the slightest hint.”

You went red at that, mind instantly flooding with the exact request you would give. But no, you shook your head. You wouldn’t give in. He didn’t give up, however, angling his nose to brush below your ear ever-so gently.

“Please?” He asked tenderly, moving his hands up your shoulders and to the base of your neck, rubbing his thumb over the bare skin.

You could do it now, you realized. You could kiss him. You could bring your hands to his face and kiss him like how you’d been fantasizing these past couple of weeks.

But you’d also been planning this for weeks. You wanted it to be special.

“No, James.” You sighed with disappointment, removing his hands from you (gently, so as not to make him think his hands were unwelcome there). “You’re just going to have to wait.”

He wriggled his arm out of your grasp and brought it to your chin, angling it towards him. As you looked into his eyes, you realized his gaze was a bit lower on your face than your own.

“But what if I don’t want to wait?” He whispered, bringing his thumb to your lower lip.

“James-“

Something large descended from the sky and nearly knocked you two over.

“Woah-“

“Beastie!”

You both spoke at the same time, and Hook staggered backwards, unbalanced. He latched onto you, keen on taking you down with him. In turn, you grasped Beastie’s saddle. What was left was Hook hanging from you as you put all your strength into staying upright.

“You’re so heavy.” You grunted, pulling him upright. He took the opportunity to throw his weight into you, forcing you to put your arms around him for support; he did the same.

“Hello there.” He said with a charming smile.

“Hi.” You replied. Then, you turned around to check the side bags on Beastie’s saddle. They were still secure, along with the contents inside (you’d done that a few hours ago, before sending Beastie off again to come back when school was over).

“Right.” You began, swiveling back to Hook, his hands now loosely around your waist. “Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?”

And with that you swung your leg over Beastie and onto the saddle.

“An adventure!”

As the words -and your action- processed in his brain, his eyes widened. A cheeky grin grew on his face and he brought his hand to your waist again. Quick and eager, he tried hopping on behind you. Fumbling terribly, he almost slid off.

“Need a little help there?” You snickered. His grip on you tightened.

“No,” he huffed. “What kind of man am I if I can’t mount a dragon?”

“So humble.” You commented sarcastically, tapping on the reigns.

Eventually, his other arm wrapped around you as he was further seated.

“Is this saddle even big enough for two?” He asked, shuffling forward and leaving no space between the two of you.

“I think it’ll be spacious enough.” You chuckled, scooting up a bit to provide him more room. He instantly took that space.

“And will it be safe?” He questioned, excitement still present in his voice, laying his head on your shoulder. You gave yourself a moment to ruffle his hair.

“As safe as riding a dragon can be!”

“That’s reassuring.”

And then you were off.

Beastie flew gently; barely cutting through the air after you rose off of the solid ground. You glided just over the treetops as you headed to your planned destination; Waiting until later for more extreme flying.

“Whoo!” Hook shouted, looking at the leaves beneath his feet. “You get to do this everyday?”

You laughed.

“This isn’t even that exciting, James. We’re dropping our things off at the spot first.”

“Easy for you to say.” He spoke, and you could hear the joy in his voice. “I’ve never ridden a dragon before!”

You playfully rolled your eyes, moving the reigns a bit so Beastie would sway back and forth; make things a little interesting for Hook. You could feel her lungs expand and deflate between your knees, bobbing up and down slightly with the flap of her expansive wings. There was a time that you had never done this before. And yeah, even though the first time was extremely mild to what you were used to now, it was exciting when you were young.

“Just you wait.” You promised. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

In response, he nuzzled his face into your neck. “Whatever you say, darling.”

And so you stayed like that for a little while as the air coursed through the both of you; enjoying each other’s presence in silence. Approaching in front of you, the terrain turned rocky as the beginning of mountains and rocks emerged from the earth. It was on top of the widespread area of one of these cliff faces that you landed, detaching the bags from Beastie.

“You doing all right girl?” You asked, petting her snout. She’d hardly ever had more than one person on her. Letting out a content snort, she gently pushed her nose into your palm.

“Of course.” You said, grabbing a treat for her. “You deserve it.”

Sitting on the grass, Hook observed you and your dragon.

“You’ve known her a long time, haven’t you?” He asked softly with his hand on his cheek.

“Two years now.” You replied, feeding her by hand. “Which is a long time, but many dragon riders have had theirs for much longer.”

“Is she common?”

You snorted. “Definitely not.”

“Really?”

You moved down to her wing, lifting it up with Beastie’s aide. Underneath it on her side was matte, scarred skin that contrasted heavily with the iridescent shimmer of the rest of her.

“Hunters.” You explained. “Tried to kill her for her scales.”

“Not even capture her for continual harvest? Or breeding for more? Just, kill?”

You let out a frustrated sigh. “Yep.”

“Well,” he got up, making his way over to rest a hand on Beastie alongside you. “I suppose it’s a good thing she’s got such a lovely owner to look after her.”

You turned bashful.

“I mean,” you stammered. “It’s the least I can do.”

“No.” Hook shook his head, bringing the curve of his cold, metal hook to your cheek in a non-threatening way. “You do more than just the bare minimum. You truly love her; I see it in the way you care for her. When she’s upset you can calm her down with a single touch. It goes both ways, too. She helps distract you from your phantoms pains, and she’ll track you down from wherever to find you. You have a truly special connection with her.” His hand drops and he takes on a wistful expression. “I feel stupid for saying this, but I’m jealous of a dragon.”

Letting out a little laugh, you grab both his hands.

“James, I would give up my life for Beastie.” He frowns. “But that doesn’t mean that what you and I have isn’t special either.” You interlock your left fingers with his right hand and wrap your right ones around his hook. You began to feel warm as you shared with him. “We have a solidarity. We’ve lost a piece of ourselves, but managed to find dear replacements that aide us in living our lives to the fullest. We didn’t let it hold us down, but empower us to push further. You managed to attain that with your likened crew; I managed to do it alone with Beastie. People in this world try and tell us that we can’t go on with what’s happened to us, but they’re wrong.” Your voice breaks a little as you smile. “They’re wrong James. They’re so wrong. We can have lives full of wonder and accomplishment. You showed me that with your life aboard the Jolly Roger. And today,” you move around him to hop back on Beastie; hand outstretched. “I’m showing you my life.”

With a happy blush dusting his cheeks, Hook grabbed your hand and pulled himself right on to the saddle.

“You’re getting better.” you complimented.

“I have a great teacher.” He teased back.

“And here I use to think you would find dragon riding dirty, considering how nice your clothes are.”

“Hey,” he sassed. “It takes a lot of pirating to look this good.”

“If by that you mean ‘steal’, then yeah.”

“Y-“

He didn’t get to finish his sentence as Beastie took sharply to the skies.

“Whoa-“ Hook grunted, latching onto your waist as he started to careen backwards.

“Don’t worry!” You shouted over the wind as you ascended near-vertically; tears beginning to stream from your eyes at the cutting air. “If you fall, Beastie can catch you! Goodness knows how many times it happened to me in the beginning!”

All Hook could manage was to blubber out incoherent words. You tried not to be so amused at his shock of the intensity of flight.

Soon after, Beastie slowly adjusted her angling, turning more horizontal every minute. As you continued higher and higher, the air grew a bit thinner and fairly chilly. You were accustomed to it; it stopped bothering you quite some time ago. Hook, on the other hand, began acting like he was freezing to death.

“Is it normally this cold?” He shivered, strangling your waist for warmth.

“Yes, but you get used to it.”

He pushed his cold nose into your neck. “How? I’m wearing more layers than you!”

Ignoring his dramatics, you reached an arm back to nudge his face away.

“Because,” you told him, making sure to let the awe seep through your voice. “Then you get to see the view.”

You heard a gasp, and you easily fathomed why. The ground below was terrifyingly far away as you climbed higher and higher, but the autumn leaves of the forest painted a jaw dropping picture of colors swirling together. That wasn’t all; they were only the half of it.

In the sky around you drifted giant orange clouds, which were much more massive and impressive up close. The dimming red and yellow of the sky behind it all served as a pretty backdrop, tying it all together.

“Look!” Hook exclaimed, poking you to turn around. “It’s the harbor!”

The wind quieted as you slowed to turn around to look at it, and you were glad you did. The ocean was visible, and the microscopic shifting of the water still glittered even from here. The ships at the harbor were much too far to see individually, but it brought you joy knowing that Hook’s ship was there nonetheless.

“And there’s Found Island!” He cheered, pointing to where it was near the shore. So that was its name.

“Are you having fun?” You asked, wishing you could easily turn around and see his expression.

“Of course!”

“Hang on then!”

He obeyed, bringing his arm back to hold you tight. And with that you began what you considered the best part of flying. Being so high up, you used gravity’s help to move you forward as you sliced through the air in a near-glide.

The wind pricked your face like tiny needles while slicing your cheeks like little knives. It snapped through your hair and pummeled your torso.

It tried to conquer you. You greeted it like an old friend.

Leaning forward even farther to swiftly buckle some belts onto the harness attached to your leather breastplate, you then leaned back and let go of the reigns.

Telling Hook that it was okay, you spread your arms wide; like wings.

The air didn’t relent and tried to push you back off the saddle. You held.

You let out an earsplitting cry, laughing at the wind. Hook jolted at the sound.

“You think you can tear me down!” You shouted at it. “But you can’t! I’m back again and I will never back down!”

You craned your neck to look at a surprised Hook, but that quickly turned into excitement for your sake.

“You tell them!” He encouraged, squeezing your sides in support. Rotating back around, you continued to tell the wind, the gravity, the world, just what you thought.

 “When I fall I’ll just fly back up again. I am a force that cannot be stopped. You lose! Do you hear me!” You grinned. “I win! Because I will never give up, no matter what!” You ended with one more ear splitting cry, reveling in the joy of freedom.

Calming down now, you leaned down again and took control of the reins.

An air of silence washed over you, minus the wind that still demanded its presence be heard. But it seemed softer somehow after that.

“I think I see now.” Hook told you, lips behind your ear. “I understand why you fly- what it means to you.”

He sounded so tender and caring, and all you wanted right then was to turn around and kiss him. You wanted him to feel your love in his bones, and to understand exactly how you felt about him.

You smiled. “Thank you, James.” was all you let out, lest you confess everything right then and there.

After that, you made the flight back to the spot with your stuff.

Before landing, you felt light and airy. But, as soon as your feet touched the ground, they felt heavy. Every step pulled you into the grass, and you sighed. You always hated this part.

Sensing your feelings, Hook rubbed your shoulder.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get to fly on the way back.”

You smiled at his encouragement.

Several minutes later you laid out what was in the bags; a picnic blanket and multiple types of food (thanks Bridget).

“All this for me?” He awed in wonder. You wrinkled your nose.

“It’s for both of us.”

He sent back an aloof expression.

As you both settled down -leaning against each other, coincidently- and began to eat what was technically dinner, Hook turned rightwards to you.

“Is this a date?”

You choked on your sandwich. Hacking on bread, you scrambled to grab a water bottle. Hook grabbed it for you, twisting the cap off with his teeth and setting it in your hands. You desperately brought it to your lips, gulping half of it down in mere seconds. Gasping, you wiped at your mouth with the back of your hand. You whipped your head towards him.

“What?”

He turned sheepish, averting his gaze to the pattern on the quilt.

“Well, is it?” He mumbled, before looking back at you through his eyelashes. “You can say yes; I don’t mind.”

You gaped like a fish. It hadn’t even crossed your mind.

“I guess…” you began slowly. “I guess it is.”

In response, Hook turned giddy and grabbed your left hand, squeezing it.

“Good.” Was all he said, then used his hook to pluck berries out of a bowl.

Well, how were you supposed to just be normal after that?

He continued to eat them directly off the tip, and you watched in slight fascination. Noticing, he side-eyed you before he was about to take another bite. Bringing his hand forward, he asked you:

“Want a bite?”

You flushed, mind drawing blank.

“Well? I thought you wanted to eat it.” He moved the berry up and down. “Why else you would you be staring?” He added with a knowing, teasing grin.

Refusing to give into his stupid, silly game of teasing you whenever he could, you did exactly what he wanted.

Being as slow as possible with all the time in the world, you tenderly grabbed the metal around his wrist. You brought his hook forward, wrapping your lips around the berry- and a bit of the metal- and pulling it off. You closed your eyes as you chewed it, feeling the skin break as the juice coated your mouth. After swallowing it, you let out a mmm in satisfaction, then slowly opened your eyes again.

Hook was turning into a red mess; completely frozen. You resisted smiling as you examined his hook, tilting it back and forth. There was some juice where the berry had been, and before thinking, you leaned forward to lick it off. Hook jolted and pulled his hand away.

“C-careful.” He stammered, panicking. “It’s very sharp.”

While that was true, you knew it was mostly an excuse. Feeling your confidence wear off, however, you began to turn a little pink yourself.

“Sorry.” You cough.

“Don’t mention it.” He mumbled into his hand.

“Should I have-“ you fumbled, inclining towards him. “Should I have asked to grab your hand? Just like you did with my foot?” You knew you had grabbed his hook before when you held his hands, but this felt different. You had taken control of it and moved it as you pleased.

“No, no.” He said softly, looking away again. “You can touch my hook whenever you’d like. It feels… nice.”

Oh. You didn’t expect to hear that.

“Well,” you said awkwardly. “You can touch my foot whenever you’d like. Not that there are many situations that would present that opportunity.”

He brought his hand down, nodding slightly.

“Which reminds me.” He told you, reaching for your left hand, grasping it surprisingly tight. “I wanted to apologize.”

“Apologize?”

He sucked in a breath. “Yes. I wanted to apologize… for how I treated you the first few weeks of school.” After that the words flew out smoother. “You were completely innocent in what you said to me when we first met; I completely misconstrued your words. I shouldn’t have been so quick to react the way I did. Especially with deciding to bully you about it after and- Gosh I’m such an idiot.”

Hearing his words filled you with warmth. You didn’t think he’d find it within his pride to properly apologize -not that you had really cared at this point- but the fact that he actually did meant so much to you.

“Oh, James.” You reached for him, placing your empty hand in his soft hair. “I forgive you. Truly, I do. It did bother me at first while it was happening, but I can honestly tell you it doesn’t bother me anymore, because I-“

You caught yourself, then quickly tried to pull away. Hook stopped you, tugging you closer by the hand he was holding. Nearly falling into him, you moved your hands to his chest to push yourself upright.

“James-“

He wrapped his arms around your waist,  but this time, there was no easy justification.

“Finish your sentence.” He whispered, face so close to yours. “Please.”

You swallowed, and suddenly your throat felt dry. His grip on you was solid. You couldn’t. Could you?

Opening your mouth, you tried to push the words out.

“It doesn’t bother me anymore,” you repeated, eyes looking up and blinking multiple times. “Because I-“ you faltered. “Because I-“ you shut your eyes. “Because I love you.”

There. You said it.

You pried your eyes open, fearing the worst.

Hook’s mouth was wide open; at a loss for words. Well so much for honesty. Before your heart would shatter, you tried to pull away again, thinking you would be successful due to his shock. What actually happened, however, was you being pulled even further into his embrace. Before you could register what was happening, you felt a pair of lips against your own.

He was kissing you.

Hook. Was. Kissing you.

Gasping, you brought your fingers to his hair, instantly raking them through those luscious locks. Gosh you had wanted to do that for so long.

He kissed you like a starved man, leaving you no room for breath. You didn’t care. You just wanted him in your arms, like this, forever. If you had known it would feel like this you would have never waited so long to kiss him.

Slowing down, Hook pressed one final kiss to your lips before resting his forehead against yours.

“I love you too.” He said earnestly, completely out of breath. Inhaling, you gazed into those dark, longing eyes.

“Really?”

He nodded.

“Yes. Unless you think I was just kissing you for the fun of it?”

The smiles that bursted onto both of your faces was indescribable. You had found each other. You understood each other. You loved each other. And now, you would get to spend the rest of your school years knowing that.

“I’m so glad.” You muttered softly.

Hmm, he confirmed, then perked up.

“One question.”

“Yes?” You asked, puzzled.

“Can I try riding Beastie like that?”

A laugh burst out of you before you could think.

“Another time.”

“Promise?”

You placed your hand on his heart, feeling it beat along with your own.

“Promise.”

Finish

Taglist: For James Hook

@lesbpotmurdocklokistan

@mushroomdemon9

@shortnfuckinsweet

[spottedenchants]

Chapter 3 of the first time fic is done! So here is a snippet for you :3

~

Caleb sighs as if it were a held breath.

“Could you, ah-.”

He drums his fingers on Essek’s lower back.

“Mhmm?”

Essek scratches behind Caleb’s ear.

Caleb leans into his hand, sitting up and meeting his eyes with brows furrowed.

“Could you do, ah some- something, um, anything, just.”

Oh, a distraction? He can do that.

“Anything, Caleb?”

Essek trails under Caleb’s jaw as he croons, sh-skritching through Caleb’s beard along the way to his chin.

Conversation can be distracting, yes?

He traces a single forefinger down Caleb’s chin, then strokes featherlight fingertips over the stone of his throat to reach its hollow- plenty enough to feel Caleb swallow.

Essek settles his hands to either side of Caleb’s collar.

“It’s unwise to make such a broad offer.”

Caleb’s shoulders ease under Essek’s palms. His expression melts into a prettiest smirk.

“Maybe I like to play the fool sometimes.”

“You….”

Essek smoothes a hand over Caleb’s collarbone as if in contemplation, letting only a shimmer of his amusement rest on his face.

“You are a curious one.”

Entirely dismissive, Caleb shrugs.

“I can only hope to make you so.”

‘Only hope’? Please.

Fingertips splayed to Caleb’s sternum, Essek pushes him into a backwards lean.

“I think you deserve a little more credit.”

Hand curled under chin, he tips Caleb’s head up.

“Look what you’ve done, brought me into your bed--”

“Allow me to remind,”-

Caleb snipes, sly.

“You brought yourself.”

“And who has granted me the invitation, time and again?”

Essek presses his thumb against Caleb’s mouth to stop the retort he sees forming. Silly man, what is any of this but Caleb’s own generous fault.

“Who has let me so close?”

He draws Caleb’s lower lip into a pout.

“Who, Caleb Widogast…”

A breath apart, their noses brush.

Caleb’s hand rests motionless against Essek’s spine, steady as a knife poised between the vertebrae.

Essek presses his lips to his thumbnail.

Relishing Caleb’s hitched inhale, Essek grins in full.

“Who has let me stay?”

[funnyjokespunperson]

picking up ryan erzahler by the head and squishing him like a stress ball. /aff.

[ohitslen]

BREAKING NEWS 🎉Ch. 5 of The neighbor from 311 is up!🎉