#so sorry about all the tags I’m just so desperate to articulate how wild the fandom stuff to my friends

[ts-crit]

All the sanders sides fans who were around at like the HEIGHT of the fandom I’m talking like sweating while waiting for part 2 of Accepting Anxiety to drop I need you help me out

I need every single fandom controversy that you can think of documented here on this post or sent to me in my asks or dms I’m trying to reminisce the old sanders sides drama to my friends 💀

I know for a fact I don’t have all of it but I distinctly remember:

- The unsympathetic!Patton drama

- That one long post with all bunch of the popular fanders about how “if you think we’re a perfect fandom then you are very misguided”

- I feel like there was SOME kinning drama that was swept under the rug

But yeah please add or shoot me an ask or something just like any like wild posts/blogs/whatever you remember

[ajokeformur-ray]

Ok so I have a joker request if you are taking them. Could you please do a headcanon for Arthur finding his s/o hiding in an alley during the riots cus the apartment got overrun and she had to escape, but when he finds her she is scared of him but tries to hide it. Sorry if this doesn’t make any sense.

I changed this up a little, I hope you don’t mind! It’s just what I have in mind is a little different in regards to the reader’s fear.

Okay so we got - swearing, smoking, rioting, moral flexibility (something I have so there’s a tiny bit of self-insert in here woops lmao), blood mentions. All pretty tame but I thought I’d tag them anyway! You never know.

For me, this GIF says one thing: wear your inside on the outside. Also, this poor man didn’t want this. He didn’t want any of this, but that’s a separate headcanon set I already wrote and cried over lmaooo.

Quickly did the riots in Gotham City grow out of control.

There were police cars stationed everywhere; window screens bashed in, blood running down car doors as passengers had been killed immediately or knocked out upon impact.

Fires and fireworks, smoke bombs and smoke grenades all made Gotham a blaze of light, of colours and yes, it was pretty and it made you feel oddly happy, giddy, to see such a shitty city burning, but you were also terrified.

Before Arthur had left for his performance on the Murray Show, he had told you to pack two bags: one for him and one for you.

In the event that anything should go wrong, he had said.

You couldn’t have known how right that wrenching in your gut had been when it had told you to run, to run and to never look back.

But you couldn’t, wouldn’t do that to Arthur, and so you had packed both of you a bag each; with your precious possessions and a spare change of clothes, your spare apartment keys and anything else which you could think of.

You had left them by the front door, again as per instructed (you didn’t know where this confidence had come from, but you liked it more than you probably should).

Hours later, when Arthur was a wanted man and you had finished crying out of shock, fear and horror, the apartment building had been overrun as people who had fallen into the trap of mob mentality had taken out their frustrations on innocents.

Really, they were no better than the people they wanted to burn, but who were you to say anything?

So quickly had you grabbed your bags, having somehow successfully fought off the person who had tried to get in through the door, locked the apartment - it would probably be broken into but you hoped that the lock would hold itself - and done something you have should done earlier that day.

You ran.

Literally lost - in the fog, smoke and in the panic of tonight’s events had you gotten quite lost in the city you had been raised in - you had found an old dumpster and huddled behind it for safety, hugging your knees to your chest.

One thought kept you from going completely fucking mad. Just one.

Where was your Arthur?

His name was a soothing mantra in your mind, your eyes roaming about the place. 

All you could see was the back of the grimy bin, the wet and dank wall making your clothes stick to your back.

Later would you feel grossed out by all the bacterium that you were surrounded by.

For, now, though - 

A staggering figure dressed all in red.

A blood red grin from ear to ear.

Whistling that sounded like That’s Life.

“Arthur!” A hush of joy had fled your lips before you could stop it and the figure had stopped, whirled around desperately.

He was looking for you. His one.

He had heard you, somehow, over the utter chaos of the street.

“Y-Y/N?”

You sprang up, your cold joints aching in protest as you made your way over, holding your arms out like a child begging to be held.

It was as accurate a simile as any, in truth.

“Arthur!” You ran to him, your arms immediately throwing themselves around his neck.

“It’s Joker now,” he murmured, his arms coming to hold you tightly.

He kissed your hair, your face, again and again. He smelled of blood, the metallic tang tainting his every kiss. He smelled of greasepaint and a little of sweat, but underneath all of that could you still smell him.

“No,” You shook your head, moved to cup his injured face in your hands. “You’ll always be my Arthur, no matter what the world sees you as.”

A watery smile, a grateful kiss to your forehead.

He knew you would understand.

Green eyes sharpened as Joker realised you weren’t home. “Why did you leave the apartment? You didn’t listen to me! Why does no one listen?”

“I did.” You rushed to defend yourself, cheeks burning. “The apartment - someone got in. I fought them out, somehow, locked the door, and I got scared and I just wanted you, and - “

“Shshsh,” arms around you again as Joker held you protectively to his body, his eyes darting about the streets as he comforted you with quiet shushes.

Joker was hurt - a head injury, the cut on his lip, bruises all over his body, and you - if you were hurt in any way then he really would werewolf and go wild.

You were the only thing he had left to lose.

He had to get you both home.

He saw you had the bags - that was good. He hoped you had packed his contingency plans. 

You had. You were clever enough to put bits and pieces together; a cryptic comment here and there laced throughout your days with Arthur had all formed into a whole tapestry in your mind.

“I’m so scared,” You mumbled, half to yourself and half to Joker.

“Of what?” A sharp question. 

You clutched at him feeling his shoulder blades through his suit. You held onto them, finding comfort in the familiar parts of Arthur that you could reach.

“You.”

The word was out before you could stop it, before you could articulate properly, and Joker froze in your arms.

He went totally still. He stopped breathing. He stopped blinking. Time came grounding to a halt.

A broken whisper.

“You’re scared of me?”

You stepped back, stepped away, seizing both of his hands in yours.

Look at me, your grip told him.

He looked like he was going to be sick as he met your eyes, green swimming with unshed tears.

“I meant to say that I’m scared for you, not of you. Silly man,” You stepped closer again, pressing a kiss to the back of one of his hands, “How could I ever be scared of you?”

Joker’s brow creased as he struggled to understand through the exhaustion of all that had happened this night. 

Finally did he realise what you were trying to say and the sick expression on his painted, bloodied face mutated and turned instead into a smug grin.

So fucking perfect, he thought.

“They won’t find us.”

“Let them try,” You grinned, “They got what they deserve. It’s our turn, don’t you think?”

A joyful laugh.

You closed your eyes, cherished the sound, and when again you opened them did you find Joker closing in on you, to seal your promise with a blood stained, metallic tasting kiss.

Arms came around you, squeezed you into his embrace, and together did you take a few moments more to simply be.

The Arthur Fleck/Joker Defense Squad @writings-of-a-gen-z      @x-avantgarde-x       @insomniabird      @mavalenovaninagavi     @itwasrealenough     @morrisonmercurymalek     @rand0ms-fand0ms     @rafaelina-casillas     @aclownthing      @rebs-doom      @vivft       @help-i-am-obssessed      @autumnaffection       @taintednihilist   @vladtoly   @mg-woolf99      @misstgrey92  @that-s-life   @dopey-girl-blogs  @seeking-dreamland      @sweetheart-syndrome  @heartxfdesire  @xmusichealsthesoulx  @0callmejude0  @the-one-that-likes-riddles        @hannibalsslut       @folliaght  @freeeshavacadoo  @bingewatchingmylifegoby       @unlovedbyeveryoneandeverything     @okamiredfoxx  @sp0okysp0oky  @the-pandorabox  @mardema  @jibanyyan  @honeyflvredcoughdrop  @emissarydecksetter  @jokerfleckk  @epidendroideae  @chuuntas  @stillmabel  @pumpkinpeyes  @onehystericalqueenposts  @the-jokers-wolf  @nalsswa  @justahyena  @arianatheangelworld  @soullessblondbitch  @gothamslittlejester  @twentyonestarrynights  @sirianfromsixties  @kissmeclownman  @joker-is-my-hero  @lazyloosah  @lovesickkloxx  @ladylovelyluna  @live-love-loki  @clownerybbxx   @tragicarthur    @anmach123     @rommie-chan      @arthurflock     @lucyboytom      @anti-peach     @ immortal-bi-bitch@hearthurfleck      @crazieroutthere      @curlystark     @hailmary-yramliah    @sagyunaro     @playinthedarktillitsgoldenagain     @jokeringcutio      @xenthefox   @mijachula @stcrrynightsinneverlcnd      @cheyennejonas22    @mrjfleck      @pauli1100     @smitten-susie    @actualkey     @callmejokerfleck   @jaylovesbats    @itsforyoubitch   

[dear-wormwoods]

Someone truly in the reddie tag saying Myra was not abusive and that she wasn’t like Sonia. Even saying Bev and Eddie don’t have similar arcs bc their abusive situations were entirely different and that people just reach to bend arguments in order to prove reddie. Biggest bs I have read in a while ahdhd

I’m assuming you are new to my blog, because uhh, I’m sorry to burst your bubble anon, but I am also someone who doesn’t consider Myra abusive. Idk what post you’re talking about specifically but I’d sure like to know what ‘proving reddie’ has to do with it, lol. But anyway, I have said before that I consider Eddie’s marriage to be toxic, but not abusive. These two people should not be married. And not just because Eddie is gay and doesn’t love her. Beyond that, they are definitely bad for each other. The entire marriage is a conduit for misery and deception. It’s a codependent circus of projection and enabling. It’s unhealthy as hell! But it isn’t abusive. And here’s why I think that: 

Stephen King wasn’t trying to make a point that Sonia and Myra are exactly the same. He was, however, making a point that when people enter into adulthood and adult relationships while carrying a bunch of baggage from trauma they never properly dealt with, the cycle will continue in one way or another (this is why Eddie and Bev are ‘parallel’ characters, not the surface-level abuse interpretation). Eddie suffered from emotional abuse for most of his life; Sonia was very calculating and intentional about it and made sure that she always held sway in Eddie’s life to suit her own needs. The result is that Eddie is a very inexperienced and sheltered adult who believes in all of the lies his mother told him. He tried to move out three times and failed each time. Sonia controlled him until the day she died. It’s all Eddie knows. So in his mid-thirties, alone in the world for the first time, he doesn’t know how to take care of himself and, more importantly, believes he can’t learn. Because of his history of abuse and control, Eddie can’t fathom taking the reins in his own life and instead seeks out someone who will take care of him the way he’s become accustomed to. 

So, Eddie meets Myra and latches onto her because she’s inexperienced and malleable, like him. She physically reminds him of his mother, so it’s easy for him to project onto her all of the abuse Sonia inflicted on him. And because that life was all he knew, it was also what made him feel comfortable, so he nudged Myra into the role he wanted her to fill - a replacement mom. He did this subconsciously at first, but he was able to recognize it before they got married… and then he decided to go through with it anyway. 

Eddie brought a lot of baggage into that relationship, baggage that Myra was most likely completely unaware of. Obviously he’s a repressed gay man, but that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Eddie doesn’t love Myra, but it’s not just because he’s gay, it’s also because he has created a maternal figure in her and, since he (rightfully) resents his mother, he also resents Myra. She conforms to that caretaker role and enables everything he’s learned from a life with Sonia, and he in turn enables her bad habits too. Enabling is toxic behavior, but it isn’t inherently abusive. 

But then, when he leaves to go back to Derry, it all comes to a head. She freaks out because as far as she knows, he’s very sick, and he’s leaving her without an explanation, this man who she is married to and financially dependent on. She has no idea how to communicate, so she resorts to panicky, emotionally manipulative attempts to get him to talk to her and stay. On the flipside, Eddie has no idea how to communicate with her either, so he withholds information, deflects, and snaps at her in moments of frustration. They both have irrational thoughts about hurting each other and they both do and say things that make the situation worse. They are both VERY bad at communication. Because they’re both grown adults with almost no relationship experience outside of each other and are therefore emotionally stunted. 

That whole chapter reads, to me, like “bad breakups 101″ - one person can’t articulate how they feel so they’re deflecting and coming off as cold, and the other person is so over the top emotional that they end up making no sense and coming off as hysterical. And it’s no wonder! If you make it to your late 30′s without ever having much of a social circle or relationship experience, you’re not going to know how to act in a situation like this. And this applies to both of them. If what Eddie says about her is true, this is probably the first time Myra has ever been left by a partner, and it’s happening suddenly and with no explanation. So, she’s hysterical and resorts to manipulation - not out of habit, but out of desperation (Eddie makes the distinction that this isn’t typical behavior for her!!). For Eddie’s part, this is the first major decision he’s made in probably his whole life, and he doesn’t know how to explain himself, so he just… decides not to. And because he does not love Myra, he is completely emotionally detached from her. Their individual reactions to the situation just make it worse for them both - Eddie shutting down makes Myra more hysterical, and her hysterics cause him to shut down more.

People like to cite a couple of damning quotes about Myra as proof that she’s exactly like Sonia, but making that argument requires you to actively ignore the damning quotes about Eddie. There are also quite a few quotes that highlight the differences between her and Sonia, things Eddie himself acknowledges, as well as quotes about the guilt he feels for knowingly projecting his own baggage onto this woman. (Note: see the posts linked at the end of this for a breakdown of all those quotes) The text makes it clear that this was never a happy marriage. Neither of them are better for being in each other’s lives. They don’t help each other become healthier people. Rather, they both actively enable each other’s toxic habits. The marriage is, in a lot of ways, a form of self-harm for Eddie, and he knows it - upon Sonia’s death, he exited the cage his mother built for him and then built a new cage for himself and threw the key at Myra’s feet. For her part, I believe Myra began as an unwitting enabler but ultimately realized that she gained a “purpose” from the relationship (being a caretaker, being “needed”) and subsequently turned a blind eye to all the ways it wasn’t actually a healthy marriage. 

This is such a long post already but I want to make it very clear that Eddie’s cycle of abuse continuing does not actually require Myra herself to be abusive - rather, it is Eddie’s projection onto her that exacerbates the toxic environment. It’s the ghost of Sonia that haunts him in that chapter and throughout the rest of the novel. Myra is not a villain in Eddie’s life - he hardly even thinks about her after he leaves. This is one of the main points that make Eddie and Bev’s parallel arcs different - Bev very clearly has a secondary villain in her life, Tom, and she gets the closure of him dying in the end. But Eddie doesn’t need closure about his marriage, because Myra is just an extension of what Sonia did to him. 

The one time he does think of her unprompted is during his walking tour, and it’s such a great example of what his marriage actually means for him: when faced with the leper offering him a blowjob and other IT manifestations, he wishes he was home with Myra. He doesn’t think of her badly - he’s not afraid of her in any way. But she represents his comfort zone. IT is forcing him to confront things like his repressed sexuality, and he decidedly does not want to do that. That’s the only moment he “misses” Myra. But he doesn’t actually miss Myra. He misses the way her enabling allowed him to escape from having to face himself. And that’s really what it comes down to - Eddie’s marriage is toxic because it’s an escape, a way for him to avoid having to grow as a person and face the hard realities of who he is and what his mother has done to him. Myra isn’t evil, she’s not a calculating abuser like Sonia was, but she is toxic because her very presence prevents Eddie from reaching his full potential and being happy. 

Sonia’s abuse permeates Eddie’s entire life, even well after her death. Her actions dictate how he sees himself, as well as how he acts in relationships. Sonia is the reason Eddie’s marriage is the way it is. Hell, Sonia is the reason Eddie’s marriage exists in the first place. It is Sonia’s ghost that continues to manipulate him throughout the book and it is Sonia’s voice he needs to overcome in the end. If Myra were truly abusive, she would matter more in the overarching narrative of Eddie’s trip to Derry. But she doesn’t matter and because of that, she’s never really given a personality or motivations. She’s truly a blank canvas for Eddie to project his issues onto, and then he simultaneously berates himself for projecting and resents her for existing within his projections. Through all of this, everything always comes back to Sonia. Due to the vast disparity between their respective levels of influence, placing Myra on equal footing with Sonia is, in my opinion, a form of downplaying how bad Sonia truly was. 

Finally, and it’s wild that this even needs to be said, people need to recognize that saying ‘Myra isn’t abusive’ is NOT the same thing as saying she did nothing wrong. Myra was an enabler and that’s not okay, whether she meant to be or not. She also had moments of manipulation, terrible communication skills and poor emotional regulation. She was a toxic presence in Eddie’s life. Saying she isn’t abusive doesn’t mean I’m excusing her actions. But it’s also important to recognize that the chapter in which she appears has a lot more nuance to it than some people realize, and it’s necessary to hold Eddie accountable for his part in making that night so difficult. On that note, holding Eddie accountable and recognizing his harmful moments is not the same as calling him abusive either (fsr that’s become some kind of urban legend, but literally no one ever said he was! ever!!). There does not always have to be an abuser and a victim - sometimes bad relationships are just… bad.

Eddie is obviously a lot more sympathetic than Myra because we know about his past and get his POV. We know that he’s a good person. We also know that Sonia is the root of all of his issues. But the fact is, he has some shitty moments in that chapter, just as Myra does! His past experiences are not an excuse for that, they’re just an explanation. And, because I know there are people out there who equate accountability with victim blaming, being able to recognize where Eddie went wrong and why he entered into this marriage to begin with is NOT the same as saying he deserved any of his misery. There’s a huge, huge difference between accountability and blame. Holding people, even fictional characters, accountable is a good thing. In the end, Eddie is a very damaged person - an inherently good person, to be sure, but sometimes damaged people who are inherently good can, and often do, create, foster, and contribute to unhealthy relationships. It can’t all be unquestioningly pinned on Myra. 

Anyway, if after all of that you’re still confused as to why some people choose not to use the abuse label, here’s some additional reading:

An amazing breakdown of the entire chapter, using quotes, by @tossertozier

A more recent & shorter breakdown using quotes by @richietozierhateblog 

[bondsmagii]

I mean to ask this genuinely, no hostility, but can you explain how you correlate scp to being in a cult? I dont disagree, I just cant articulate the reasoning as to why I dont disagree, and would like to see where youre coming from with this. Also, could you tag it with cults or cult discussion or something similar, please? Thanks! Have a good day.

OK [cracks knuckles] I will try and keep this as short as possible, but you have to understand I’ve been observing the wiki in the wild literally since its inception, so there is a lot of stuff to consider. anyway let’s buckle up.

[EDIT: after finishing, this is obnoxiously long. sorry. I encourage people to read it though, because yikes.]

I base this theory on a set of guidelines set out for spotting if an organisation might be a cult. generally cults are religiously based; obviously this does not apply here. as far as I’m aware, nobody sees the SCP wiki as a religion (yet). because of this a couple of the points regarding spotting a cult are irrelevant (they concern things like separation from the Church which obviously doesn’t apply) but nearly all of the others (even some religious ones) can apply if we provide context. so without further ado:

Signs You’re In A Cult and How the SCP Wiki Literally Fits Into All of Them

let’s start with the most obvious:

opposing critical thinking

something that has long pissed me off about the SCP wiki has been its complete inability to think critically. staff will literally ban people for criticising them, and the parameters of “criticism” have only grown wider and wider over the years. anything that is the “party line” is sacred; nothing can be improved upon because it’s already perfect, and Staff Knows Best. any policy changes are law, and any dissenting voices are silenced – even among younger staff members (length of service wise, not age wise). I have seen staff put on probation or demoted for arguing against pointless or pedantic policy changes; I have seen people of all levels banned for arguing with staff. if this doesn’t happen right away, arguing with staff over their decisions will absolutely get a target on your back, and they will find a way to ban or demote you as soon as they can.

any criticism on the wiki is frowned upon unless it comes from the Major Staff Members – these are people at the top of the hierarchy who can do no wrong, and as you can imagine, they’ve done some shit. staff has always had a problem with elitism, bullying, and even abusive behaviour (blah blah blah #NotAllStaff, but the ratio is quite concerning) and any criticism of their behaviour or even pointing this fact out is dangerous if you want to remain on the wiki. hell, I know many people who are aware of this who don’t speak up because they’re genuinely scared of retaliation. a lot of staff are really nasty people, and because of this attitude they are beyond criticism.

isolating members and penalising them for leaving

the penalising them for leaving part isn’t strictly accurate, because as far as I know, nobody has ever been bullied or threatened into staying on the wiki. however, I do remember a while back (2011/2012-ish) when the Foundation RP community began to show up on Tumblr, and the wiki began to get a fanbase that wasn’t contained on the site itself. staff were not happy about this and to this day they still constantly try and get a monopoly on all off-site locations. they have an official Offsite Outreach Team (yes, that’s its real name) who “reach out” to communities on other platforms (YouTube, Reddit, Tumblr, etc) and set up an Official Presence there, and then they encourage everyone to use the Official Presence rather than the fan-made ones (which are often more established and better/more consistently run). there have been several off-site spats between staff and the fandom, because they arrive demanding the authority and respect they have on the wiki and get Big Mad when they don’t get it. just recently one (now ex) staff member, djkaktus, went absolutely primal on Reddit and banned a whole bunch of the community for daring to say that they didn’t like the new LGBT logo for pride month (many of these people were LGBT themselves and felt as though it was pandering/putting targets on their backs); several more years ago (2014, I believe?) I myself had a run in with the Outreach Team and it was one fucking hell of a headache that ended in a malicious smear campaign against me, so like. yeah.

as for isolating members, they do this via elitism. the above is an example of it (making everyone feel a sense of obligation or loyalty to the Official Presence), but a huge part of it has always been the elitist attitude prevalent on the wiki. the SCP wiki has high standards for writing (allegedly… I’ve seen some garbage on there tbh, same as any other website) and it uses this to bully and demean its users. criticism of writing is overly harsh but highly encouraged; anyone complaining that it was too cruel (which it often is) is ridiculed for being too sensitive. (staff have been working on this for years, but really nothing has changed; people have just gotten more between-the-lines about it.) this encourages a kind of desperation among new users to “rise up the ranks” and earn respect so they can be the ones dishing out the criticism instead; they will do so and then immediately act in accordance to their status, bullying others how they were bullied and sticking to their own “rank”. brief interruption: staff and bootlickers if you’re reading this and thinking of reblogging to defend yourself, the code word is yeet. if I do not see the word yeet in your reply I will know you have not read this thoroughly and tell me why I should then bother reading anything you have to say.staff themselves is incredibly removed and closed off from the rest of the community; they have a bunch of private chat rooms they hang out in, and inter-dating is common. they don’t tend to interact much outside the flock, and are the definition of cliquey. joining this rank is supposed to be an achievement, but really it’s probably the most dangerous place to be. I have seen so many staff members have literal, clinical mental breakdowns over the strain and treatment they suffer.

(there’s nowhere to neatly slot this in, so: I don’t know how many people have noticed this, but SCP fans, when you spot them on other platforms, are snooty. not casual fans, but those involved with the wiki? I can spot them from a mile away, because whenever the Foundation is mentioned, there they are, acting like they’re part of some cool club. some of these people are innocent (they’re just mimicking the behaviour of other members) but some of them really do seem to think that their site is somehow better than whatever site they’re on, and it’s really creepy to see.)

emphasising special doctrines outside of scripture

obviously this is religion-specific, but with context it can fit. if we take scripture to mean SCP lore, and special doctrines to mean differing headcanons, ideas, writing styles, etc… oh boy.

there’s something that’s often said on the wiki: there is no canon. buddy, there is. yes, you can write whatever you want technically, and you can disregard headcanons you don’t like and you can build on different things and theoretically people can just ignore your shit if they don’t like it, but that is not what happens. there is absolutely a canon, and deviating from it will get you downvoted into oblivion and even personally attacked. people will accuse you of the most ridiculous shit, like desecrating the wiki or betraying the universe or whatever. so where does the emphasising part of this come in?

why, it’s simple! if one of these special doctrines (headcanons or whatever) comes from staff or an Approved Member, it’s fine. go nuts. even if it’s something that anybody else would be absolutely slaughtered for, it’s fine if staff approves. there is no creative freedom on that wiki, and anyone attempting to carve a piece out for themselves will suffer for it. one of my close friends still gets hate for an SCP he wrote featuring heavy headcanons and building on existing lore about a well-known character, and some of this hate is because he didn’t set the fucking article out “how it should be”. 

seeking inappropriate loyalty to their leaders

oh boy. staff are god on that website. they’ll deny it, but they know it’s true. many of them are arrogant and, in my opinion, some of them are pathologically narcissistic. they think they are hot shit, and they encourage people on the site to believe the same. a huge majority of users on the wiki are high school students, so 15-18 years old. the next huge group are college-aged, so 19-22 or so. several staff members are in their mid-20s up to 30s, maybe even coming 40s or early 40s now. when you’re in your mid-20s, it’s very easy to look cool to a 15-year-old. it’s very easy to look at a young userbase and convince them that you’re hot shit, and that’s what staff do. they act like it; most users respond to it, and if anyone dissents? see point one.

staff have always had double standards. from the very beginning of staff, they have gotten away with a lot more than the average user. staff have been allowed to bully, ridicule, harass, dismiss, shit upon, and target people with reckless abandon, usually only meeting punishment when other staff members feel too inconvenienced by them. a lot of the time when they’re punished, it’s a lot lighter than it would have been for an average user (a month ban rather than a permaban, for example). this is seen as almost a point of hilarity for a lot of people, who think it’s cool and just a right you get when you’re staff. you know best, you’ve seen some shit – who can blame you for slamdunking a 15-year-old’s first SCP?

the amount of respect and adoration these people demand is ridiculous, and anybody daring to criticise them ends up on a shitlist. staff show up in other areas (Tumblr or Reddit) and expect that same amount of respect, even among people outside of the wiki who might just be casual fans. they act a lot more important than they are, and demand that everyone treats them appropriately. I’ve seen staff members throw shitfits because they didn’t get enough upvotes for their articles, and many staff members’ quality of work declines when they make staff, simply because they know that they’ll get easy upvotes as soon as people realise it’s a staff member who wrote it. downvotes are enough to get you put on a shitlist. 

publicly, their word is law. you are not allowed to debate with them in the forums if they put a “stop” on the topic; the same applies in the IRC chat. if staff says “stop”, you will be punished if you mention it again. you are allowed to discuss it with them privately, but I think that’s rather insidious, as staff have been known to twist facts and withhold information before. this gives them a public persona of always being right – and something else that cults do is silence dissenting voices so nobody who might agree can see other people saying the same things and feel encouraged/emboldened. 

crossing Biblical boundaries of behaviour

again, we’ll need to contextualise this. if Biblical boundaries are things like sins and all the stuff the Bible says Do Not Do, then in this context these are the wiki rules. staff (and their friends) will constantly cross the rules, as previously mentioned, and they will get away with it.

the wiki rules say “don’t be a dick”. I have caught staff bullying people countless times, and no doubt there’s more I haven’t caught. even out in the open, staff are argumentative, dismissive, rude, intimidating, and oftentimes plain nasty. the wiki rules say “don’t coldpost articles; get feedback”. staff is just out there throwing their shit onto the wiki and expecting an avalanche of upvotes in five minutes Or Else. policies are made that set parameters and staff changes them whenever convenient – for example, the long-standing rule that things that occur off-site are not the responsibility of the Disciplinary Committee (yes, its name.). unless, of course, it’s someone they don’t like. a major staff member bullies somebody on Tumblr? “sorry, it was offsite, not our problem”. someone staff doesn’t like gets into a brief spat on Reddit? banned for harassment. 

there are countless examples of this, from small things to major things like bullying, harassment, and even abuse (or enabling of abuse). staff will punish people for transgressions and then turn a blind eye to a fellow staff member committing a transgression that was ten times worse. they have even protected rapists and sexual predators in the past – another kind of behaviour common in cults, because that’s what happens when you combine narcissism and entitlement with total authority.

that’s the main bulk of it

but now the context has been established, here are a few more concerning things I’ve noticed (quickfire now):

cults shit on former members

and the wiki does the same. any staff member that’s grown fed up of the groupthink and the cliquey attitude and how nasty people are or who has been mistreated by staff themselves; any regular user who feels the same and vocally quits? shat upon. lauded as a bastion of whatever is wrong with the wiki. declared an Enemy and rallied against. it is so creepy.

cults use Us vs Them mentality, especially in language

broad declarations establishing a community and a community spirit in the face of adversity are common in cults. appeals to emotion and loyalty are used in a very manipulative way. catastrophising and fearmongering is common, too. I’m seeing this in how the recent drama with the legal issues is being handled. broad appeals to “defend the wiki”, hashtags being encouraged, emotional speeches from staff about how it’s a make or break situation… 

…and this is being reflected in the absolutely insane comments people are responding with.

this is a fucking writing website. the above is not a normal reaction at all.

the attitudes of regular users quickly grow concerning

people very quickly get obsessed with the wiki and it defines their lives. they seem to feel as though they owe something to it or they need to serve some kind of a purpose; many people try and “get the word out” and become voluntary spokespeople. they go around practically preaching, and I do not see the users of any other website doing this.

cults want full control over how they’re seen by outsiders

and the scp wiki does the same. as mentioned previously, when the fandom grew and spiralled off the wiki to other sites, staff debated for weeks over what to do. brief interruption the second code is shrek is life.they were not comfortable with the idea of the wiki having an independent fandom, and for years now they have been in constant struggle with offsite communities, trying to gain the same amount of control they have over the wiki. it’s impossible to do so thoroughly, and it’s clearly an annoyance for them.

cult leaders will let “lesser” members do their dirty work for them

and guess what staff does? rather than wade in there and get their hands dirty with internet arguments, they’ll sit back and let regular users dogpile on dissenters and say all the things staff shouldn’t be seen to say in public. note how even if this would violate the bullying policies, they’ll just get a warning so long as staff agrees. 

in conclusion

@ everyone on the scp wiki: yall know you’re in a cult, right?

[viperbranium]

I know it's just a tag. But "Shut up viper no one cares" I say to myself YES I DO. We love you. We care. x

aklgjñkjdk this is why i miss this place and all of you so much when life forces me to take a step back from it for a while

anon you’re the sweetest ;^; i promise it’s just a tag, haha! it’s not even me being self-deprecating at this point, but this is still so nice of you and i’m crying, so here, have a super dumb thing

He’s still not used to the attention.

Before the serum he barely got any, the notable exception being bullies in back alleys – which wasn’t something Steve ever wanted to attract… and yet.

Now though, he’s hardly ever alone. Less so on days like these, when they just freed another village from HYDRA goons, and all everyone wants is to celebrate and drink and fuck until they can’t think straight.

Steve’s not opposed to any of that. Far from it, really. But he can’t really get drunk anymore, and as for the mindless fucking with some stranger… yes, it’s pragmatic in these times of war, and Steve’s quite familiar with it, but he likes to at least have a conversation first, and no one here looks sober enough for that anymore.

Which is why he’s been trying to leave the pub for the past 2 hours, only to be stopped every single time.

Apparently, celebrating that Captain America kicked Nazi ass requires that Captain America be present. Who would’ve thought.

Desperate for a breather but accepting the fact that he’s not going to be allowed to leave anytime soon, Steve opts for the restroom. He heads towards the small corridor at the far end of the bar, turns a corner… and walks straight into some guy’s chest.

Reaching out has quickly become conditioned response.

Most of the time Steve’s still not fully used to his new body, and not even that long ago he would’ve been sitting on his ass after bumping into some buff guy like this… but he’s already gotten used to that happening to whoever bumps into him now, what with him being a solid wall of muscle and all, so before he can even think of anything he’s reaching out to steady the guy.

Except this guy in particular doesn’t budge one inch upon colliding with him.

This guy, in fact, must be used to this very same thing happening to him as well, because he also reaches out instinctively to hold Steve in place.

This guy, Steve observes as they’re both left holding each other’s biceps kind of awkwardly, is also insanely attractive.

He’s only slightly shorter than him, and not super muscular, but well-built enough to justify him not stumbling back when Steve walked into him – and it’s not like Steve was about to barge into the restroom, really. He’s got dark hair, a clean-shaven, deliciously dimpled-chin, and a pair of icy-blue eyes so intense they make the hairs on Steve’s neck stand. His jawline is strong and sharp, and Steve has to keep himself from outright licking his lips at the sight of him.

He stares at Steve in confusion for a second, and then something seems to dawn on him. When he smiles, playful and sweet and slightly wicked all at once, it sends a shiver down Steve’s spine.

“Captain America…” the guy says, his voice slightly hoarse and as sinful and tempting as the rest of him. “I wasn’t sure you were real. Before tonight, I mean. Kinda hard to miss you tonight,” he adds, and winks at him.

Steve has to swallow around a lump in his throat to be able to articulate anything at all. His hands have dropped slightly, but they’re still resting on this guy’s forearms. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you…” he says awkwardly.

The guy smiles. “Well, ain’t that disappointing,” he says, teasing.

“N-No! I meant just now,” Steve explains, and gestures towards the mirrored end of the corridor. It’s angled in a way that anyone walking towards the restroom should be able to see if someone’s stepping out even before they turn the corner, but Steve was so desperate to get away from all the attention that he somehow hadn’t. He goes on, “I mean, yeah, I haven’t seen you around either, but–”

The man’s soft chuckle thankfully cuts him off. “Don’t worry, I’m just fucking with you,” he says. Steve has to stop himself from licking his lips at the guy’s choice of words. God, he wishes. “I know everyone was keeping you busy. I was actually waiting ‘til they left you alone to come say hi.”

“You should’ve done so anyway,” Steve replies, perhaps a bit too eagerly, but this man’s body language is open and inviting, and, well, Steve can only hope he’s heard the rumors about Captain America and men.

Some of them, Steve’s even started himself. The serum means he rarely gets enough release these days, and he’s never been that great at flirting, so it’s as good a way as any to find out who’d be down for a quick fuck right upon meeting them. Practical and uncomplicated.

Based on the way the guy’s eyes drop to Steve’s lips almost unconsciously, Steve’s willing to bet he probably has heard… and that he’s not entirely opposed.

The guy shrugs. “Figured you were probably a bit overwhelmed. That why you’re running away, right?”

And he’s obviously joking, but Steve still blushes a bit, called out. “Yeah,” he tells him, smiling self-deprecatingly and scratching the back of his neck. “But I love seeing everyone this happy. And,” he adds, letting his gaze roam over the man’s body. Go big or go home. “maybe I wouldn’t be running away if you had dropped by to have a drink with me.”

”That so?” Insanely attractive guy asks, big smirk on his face. Steve takes it as a promising sign. “Well in that case, I guess we should go have that drink. You know, just to keep you company ‘til these guys let you leave. Unless you wanna try fitting that ridiculous chest of yours through the restroom window…” he adds, poking Steve’s pec and biting his lower lip playfully.

Steve laughs and shakes his head. “No, I think I’d rather stick around for a while longer.”

x

Insanely attractive guy’s name is Bucky, and he’s not only attractive but also funny and quick-witted and charming, and with a certain wild air to him that Steve can’t quite explain but that’s driving him completely crazy.

He’s also been leaning right into his space so Steve could hear him over the noise around them – Steve wasn’t about to mention that he has super hearing –, his breath ghosting over Steve’s skin enticingly with every word, and Steve’s about ready to shove him into some wall and kiss him senseless.

It’s 4 drinks before they’re allowed to leave the pub at last.

Bucky’s thigh has been pressed right against Steve’s for the past 40 minutes, and he smells amazingly and Steve wants him. He can’t even remember the last time he wanted someone this much.

When they step outside and Steve asks Bucky if he wants to come with – being Captain America pays off sometimes: Steve has a whole house for himself –, the guy just licks his lips and nods. Steve has to stop himself from dropping to his knees right there.

x

The sex is every bit as good as Steve had anticipated.

Bucky’s mouth is on his the moment the door closes behind them, hot and greedy and claiming, and from that moment, he just doesn’t stop kissing him.

He pushes all of Steve’s buttons in a way that clearly shows he knows what he’s doing, but then writhes under Steve’s touch and begs and moans with a neediness that almost clashes with his obvious expertise.

It feels similar to what the serum does to Steve himself, actually. To how it makes him overly sensitive, but also practically insatiable. And oh, Bucky is insatiable.

Since he got the serum, Steve’s never met anyone with enough stamina to match his own – he wasn’t even sure it was humanly possible –, but Bucky comes after just 5 minutes with his cock in Steve’s mouth, and only moment later he’s hard again and fucking Steve’s brains out, and shortly after, as he rides Steve’s dick, he comes for the third time in under half an hour.

And the night is just starting.

x

In the morning, Steve feels sated in a way he’s never felt before.

His whole body aches, but it’s a pleasant kind of feeling, and he knows it’ll be gone soon enough anyway, as will be the bruises on his neck and chest and the inside of his thighs.

Bucky’s not lying next to him anymore, but Steve was sort of expecting that. This is war, and they’re both men. It would’ve been foolish to expect anything to come out of an encounter such as this one. He briefly laments the fact that there’s not going to be a morning fuck, and buries his face in the pillows to breathe in Bucky’s fading scent as he wraps his fingers around his hardening cock.

Yes, it would’ve been foolish to have any expectations beyond a night of mind-blowing sex, but if every now and then he pleasures himself to the thought of Bucky, well… no one can really blame him.

x

The future is, overall, not that awful.

Sure, it takes some adjusting, and there’s definitely a lot of areas in which humanity hasn’t made much progress, but there’s also some pretty great things about the 21st Century.

Sex toys, for example. Sex toys are fucking spectacular, especially when you’re Steve Rogers and even the most amazing one-night-stands only help quench maybe 30% of your thirst.

Steve lets out a shaky sigh and squirms a bit, trying to get comfortable on his bike seat and already thinking about grabbing his favorite multi-rotating vibrator as soon as he gets home and shoving it inside him as far as it’ll go. Damn, he really should’ve worn that plug.

He adjusts the rear view mirrors, starts the engine… and he hasn’t even moved it completely out of the parking spot when he bumps into something.

Something that lets out a pained noise and then falls to the floor with a thud. Color drains from Steve’s face as he quickly turns the engine off and gets off to help and make sure that the person’s all right.

“Oh my god,” he exclaims, crouching down next to the guy and helping him untangle from his jacket. “I’m so fucking sorry, I didn’t see you, oh god, are you okay?”

The guy grunts a bit as he moves to a sitting position, but seems to be mostly in one piece.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, don’t worry. No big deal,” he says with a hint of resignation in his voice, like he’s somehow used to this happening. Steve goes to protest and to offer taking him to the nearest ER, when the guy throws his head back and runs his hand through his long hair to brush it of his face.

The name is out of his lips before logic can even tell him it’s not possible. “Bucky!?” he asks, and he knows it can’t be him, but the guy looks up at the name, stares right at Steve, and his questioning look quickly morphs into bewilderment.

“Oh… ” he says, recognizing Steve’s face. “Well, fuck.”

x

“Say it again,” Steve asks, still not quite believing any of this is possible.

Bucky, sitting on Steve’s couch and sipping at a cup of Steve’s coffee, lets out a tired sigh and says, “I’m a vampire.”

“Okay,” Steve tells him, trying his damnedest not to freak out. “Okay, so I didn’t hear that wrong. How is that even possible?”

Bucky shrugs. “Got turned a few years before the war,” he explains. “It’s not that big a deal anyway, most of what pop culture says about vampires is wrong. Well, except the not aging part, obviously. And the not being reflected in mirrors. ‘S why you ran me over with your bike.”

“I didn’t run you over,” Steve protests, and then cuts himself off because, yeah, not the point. “You are a vampire!” he repeats.

“Yep,” Bucky says. He looks halfway between miffed and amused. “I don’t know why you’re having so much trouble wrapping your head around this, honestly. You’re not exactly normal yourself.”

Steve wants to argue, but Bucky’s got a point. “Okay, fair.”

At least this explains why Bucky is so inhumanly gorgeous. His hair is longer now, and he looks a bit more rugged and is broader everywhere, but he’s still every single bit as breathtaking as he was in 1945.

It also explains why he’s alive, of course, but Steve’s having trouble focusing on anything beyond how fucking good Bucky looks. Bucky sits back against the couch and spreads his legs just a tad, and memories of their night together come rushing right back into Steve’s mind.

Steve, it turns out, still wants him just as much as he did all those years ago. It’s not as pathetic as it sounds when it’s only been a couple years for you, not over seventy.

“Y’know,” Bucky says after a few minutes, “when they found you in the ice, I was sure that was a PR stunt,” he licks his lips and then gives Steve a pointed look. “If I’d known it was you, I would’ve tried to find you. I would’ve said something.”

Steve perks up. “Yeah?” he asks, and okay, maybe it really isn’t that pathetic. Maybe Bucky finds it just as hard to get a good, satisfying fuck as Steve does. Bucky just grins in response, so Steve lets his gaze fall pointedly to Bucky’s lips and scoots a bit closer on the couch. He says, “I was thinking maybe you didn’t wanna see me… You did leave before morning back in ‘45.”

“The morning light hurts my skin,” Bucky tells him as he moves to straddle Steve’s lap.

“I have very good blinds,” Steve informs, resting his hands on Bucky’s hips.

Bucky smiles impishly and kisses him.

[pendragonfics]

Fanfic Is Just Wobbly Canon

Paring: Wade Wilson/Reader

Tags: male reader, canon complaint, canon divergence, time-travel fix-it, canon-typical violence, canon gay character, character death ((but dont worry its ok)), romance, fluff, angst. 

Summary: Reader loved Wade since that drunk kiss in 2010. Reader loves Wade in that burning orphanage in 2018. Cable realises stuff.

Word Count: 2,064

Current Date: 2018-09-05

Being a part of the X-Men wasn’t half bad, most of the time. You got regular dental checks and healthcare cover thanks to the Professor, an account on the team’s Netflix you didn’t have to pay for, and training to allow you to regulate your mutation to be allowed around other people. While Ellie Phimester could literally explode, and Colossus was metal most of the time, you were able to shift your density. Which had been a rude awakening at fourteen when you fell from your bed at the top of the orphanage through all the floors and landed in a heap in the basement.

But that was years ago, and since, you’ve been learning not to fall so much as ‘fly’, or, really, just be half-useful in hand-to-hand combat with the people the X-Men encountered. In 2010, you met Wade Wilson back when he was just a mercenary for cash – by accident! You were on your way to your apartment in the shady part of town and he’d seen you in the shadows as a threat. Leading to his knife in your chest…well, his knife going through your chest. To make up for it, he’d taken you out for an apologetic round of drinks and given you a sloppily drunk kiss. But it was nice. It was Wade.

You’re sure he was too drunk to remember that, because it hadn’t been mentioned since. But that was perchance because he’d found a girlfriend. Because when you met again a couple of years later – when you were called in from a mission in the Basque country of France – he looked like a scaly piece of radioactive cheese, but, even without the eyebrows and a skincare routine, you knew it was Wade. For one, that sailor mouth.

Now, you’re not so sure.

“She’s ducking dead,” he says, over and over, except ducking is what everyone intends to write when Autocorrect steps in. “And Russel’s – duck!” His eyes are wild. He looks like a raggedy, wild, ravaging animal. Or a child. He’s acting like it too. His legs are still small, and standing in the corner, you watch as he works out his problems mentally until he growls in frustration.

Weasel looks to you, and you look to Neena, and in turn, look to Wade.

“X-Force didn’t work out,” you say, and Wade gives you a sharp look. You clear your throat, and start again, “X-Force isn’t done yet, but it hasn’t done what its goal was. Get Russel and stop him. Especially since he’s with Juggernaut.”

Neena nods, agreeing. “We need to stop them, I mean, that guy is ugly.”

Weasel raises a hand. “How are we going to do it? I mean, me – I’m just me, and Wade has baby legs, Neena – you’re just a fluke of nature –,”

She grins at that, “Thank you.”

“– and __________, you’re just really good at falling through things.” He concludes.

“We can’t just do nothing.” You say, desperate. “We know that Russel turns into a really, really bad guy if we let him go down this path – we have to try! It’s better to try at failing than to fail at trying.”

“Isn’t that from a motivational cat poster?” Neena wonders.

You throw your hands up, exasperated, and leave the room to find Wade’s kitchen. When you were but a young boy, a blind boy a little older than you roomed with you at the orphanage. He might have been blind, and at night, covered his head with pillows because everything was too loud, but you learned something from him, even when you discovered your mutation.

---

Tea makes everything better. Of course, two teenaged boys didn’t learn this by themselves – you’d sneak down to the kitchens after sunset for a mug of warm milk that Sister Constantine would permit, but, when your friend came with you this time, she declared that it wouldn’t be tea this time for the both of you.

“How old are you boys, again?” she asked in her matronly tone.

“Fifteen,” you replied.

“I’m sixteen.” Said his friend.

“Well, you’re much too old to have warm milk at night. Yes,” she repeated, busing herself with boiling a pot of water upon the cast iron stove. “Milk is for children or calves suckling at their mothers’ teat in the farmyard. You boys are nearly men, and men drink milk, yes, but with other things.”

“Do you mean biscuits?” you questioned.

You had no clue as to what men drank. You had been found as a baby upon the orphanage doorstep, swaddled in a raggedy scarf in a box that had allegedly smelt of cat pee and cigarettes. The nuns raised you, and so, apart from the occasional school teacher who was male, you had few as role models.

“No,” Sister Constantine replied. “Tea.”

---

Returning to the living room with several cups looped over your fingers, it isn’t until you look up and realise that almost everyone there has a gun cocked to where you were just standing. Because standing there is the man who had just been trying to kill Russel. It’s then your mutation kicks in with the adrenaline that’s racing through your mind, and the cups drop, hitting the floor. Kersch-plash.

“Sorry,” you apologise, “I just – he’s – what?”

“Cable. The mother-trucker who was – hey, who’s censoring my words?” Wade frowns, looking at you. No, not you, the you who’s reading. “Did the writer put you up to this?” he asks, growling. “I am the Merc with a Mouth, not one of those lame-o’s from The Good Place.” He bring his hand down upon his baby leg in frustration, and winces. “Fork! Bench.” He turns his gaze from you back to you, standing in the doorway with several broken mugs of tea at your feet, and continues, “He’s the guy who wanted to let Russel get blown up like a piñata on the Day of the Dead.”

“Oh,” you say, “hi.”

The other man says nothing. But it’s what happens next that says more words.

---

You see it happening, perhaps, before he did.

There was the shot of the gun from that asshole, and the bang! of the shot itself, and well, you did what you did. Your feet move themselves, your brain makes you move faster than before. Sure, earlier today you couldn’t function enough to hold your own with your density vs. the tea cups, but now, your body is in fight mode. And before you can register what you’re doing, you’ve moved.

You feel the bullet, and feel somewhat hollow, and but its then you shift. Your skin grows dense, like concrete trying to drip dry out of a waterless tap.

Time seems to go back to normal after that.

And you collapse to the ground, heavy. From the hole in your chest, you know you’re bleeding onto the X-Force unitard. From what’s hurting the most, you know the bullet has hit your heart, right where you didn’t need a bullet to go through. But you took it.

“Bruv,” Russel says, shocked.

“__________!” Wade’s at your side. “No – what!”

You look to him, unable to articulate anything. From shifting your mutation as you took the bullet, you can only assume it’s taking up all your energy, all your will, and you can feel weaker. “H-hi.” You whisper.

“__________, you can’t die,” Ellie blinks, looking between you and Colossus. At the mansion, you never thought yourself as close, but here she is, breaking. “Call someone!”

But you’re focusing on Wade, with every second you have left.

“__________, no,” he says, pulling the mask up, so you can see his lips. “You can’t die too.”

You muster all your strength, and reaching toward Wade with your hand, you place your fingers on his chin, and your hand falls to land on his chest. “I…I l –,” You splutter, your heart rate fading quick, your lungs unable to fill. “you.”

It all goes dark.

---

Time is strange when you don’t care about it. He care deeply for it, especially since it’s what he works on. Lives off. Needs. But he says he doesn’t care, and that’s what other people know of him. They don’t know much of him. Like how he had a son, once. A perfect child, unaffected like him. It drove him mad, seeing the boy showing no mutant genes. It was when he and his wife, quite young, and quite sure of it at that time, decided to return this child to where he came from. Originally. So that it could have the best life for someone like that.

So, he had his wife write a note, and they wrapped the child in a scarf, and marked him in a way so if he wanted to, he could find the boy. And together, he and his child, went to the late 20th century, to a small orphanage in New York city. He chose a warm night, to leave him, in a box that smelt faintly of cigarette smoke.

After that, time went on for him. Forwards, backwards, his device worked well. Until that night, and then, he, in revenge for what happened to his family, armed himself with it, and saw it had only two more rides left. One to the 21st century. To take out Russell Collins. And one to return home.

But plans change.

Cable watches the young man fall, having taken the bullet. But it isn’t until he takes his hand, and places it against Wade’s chest that he notices a small mark on the inside of his wrist. Three dots, faded, yes, but, there, as if tattooed.

He knows those dots. While the X-Force are busy churning out tears, he turns his device, and in time – a fluid thing, really – goes backwards, for once, in a small way. Ten minutes, back when they were un-squashing out of the taxi together.

He does what he does, and shrugs when asked why he touched the younger man’s chest. He feigns indifference, and, well. The rest is history. Future.

Now.

---

You see it happening, perhaps, before he did.

There was the shot of the gun from that asshole, and the bang! of the shot itself, and well, you did what you did. Your feet move themselves, your brain makes you move faster than before. Sure, earlier today you couldn’t function enough to hold your own with your density vs. the tea cups, but now, your body is in fight mode. And before you can register what you’re doing, you’ve moved.

You feel the bullet, but, not as you expect it. Your body is tensed, your mutation had kicked in, but there was no feeling. It’s then you realise.

The bullet is nestled into the ground near your feet, dented by something. You’re intact. Russel’s intact. You frown, and look to Wade, and your eyes land on Cable. He nods, as cryptic as ever, and it is then when he goes to inspect his gun.

“I nearly died,” you whisper, looking once more to your friends, your eyes settling on Wade. Your adrenaline is still coursing your body, and it’s in a split second when you stride toward him, looking at him through the mask. “Wade, there’s something I gotta tell you.”

Russel gives you two a look, and moves toward Colossus, away from you too.

“You left the stove on at my place?” he asks.

“No, no, not that,” you shake your head. “Do you remember back in 2010 when we first met? In the alleyway? You stabbed me, but I –,”

He nods.

But you persist. “Do you remember all of it? Because sometimes it’s like you try to erase that bit, because you’ve never brought it up. You were with V –,”

Wade interrupts you, ripping the mask from his face that looks like an undercooked and under-sauced pepperoni pizza, and at once, he cradles your face with his gloved hands, and your heart stops. Not in the literal way. Because finally, it’s happening sober. It’s happening out of your guilty pleasure daydreams and wishes.

“I wasn’t sure if you remembered,” he says to you, as you break for air.

“Gross,” says Russel.

“Every sock has a pair,” says Yukio, no doubt holding Ellie’s hand.

“Of course I remembered,” you say, and kiss Wade forkin’ Wilson, the guy you’ve been in love with since that night in 2010.