#this one hit me like a mack truck

[noonaracha]

LEE KNOW :: '락(樂)' Music Bank 231110

[aflockofravens]

THEY WERE SO CLOSE TO A KISS! SO CLOSE!

AHHHHHH

[golvio]

Every once in a while I remember the “hand clasp” shots in “Rose’s Scabbard,” both the setup with Pearl holding her own hand as she reminisces to herself, them the payoff when she clasps hands with the ghost-hologram of Rose, and I go absolutely feral.

[andyridgeley]

i love shopping with my retired aunt cause everytime she makes a purchase she makes heavy eye contact with me and says "that's less for you when i die" and i just

[lovemybluebully]

Over My Dead Body

Got writer's block on the fic I mentioned with X23 so I wrote this to keep my creative juices flowing. 😁 Hope you guys don't mind. lol I swear this was just going to be a little drabble, buuuuuuut I got carried away. It was just like, I have an idea! Oooh I have another idea! And then it just spiraled. 🤣 I suck at writing short fics. lol

Probably not my best work, but just a little silliness between these two guys. Another fic where Wade discovers Logan is ticklish and goes all out on him. I very much enjoy tickle origin fics. 🥰

Again some somewhat movie spoilers, but if you haven't seen the biggest movie in the world by now then that's your fault. lol Then of course the typical foul language and Deadpool's dirty mouth.

"Deadpool and Wolverine"-verse

M/M Tickle Fic

Word Count: 5,139

"Fucking give me that remote, Wilson!" Logan let out a teeth-bared snarl while chasing Wade comically around and around the couch like in a Scooby Doo cartoon.

"But baby cakes, I want to watch 'Touched By An Angel'! Wade snickered, managing to stay just one step ahead.

"Fuck that shit! This is the final round for the Flames in the Stanley Cup, and I am NOT missing it!" He finally caught up to Wade and took him down with a flying tackle of heavy adamantium as they both crashed to the floor and the tv remote went sailing out of reach.

Logan quickly scrambled to his feet as he made a break for it, but Wade successfully grabbed his leg to trip him as he hit the floor again with the merc now up and giggling as he ran to claim the prize.

"Yessss! Home run! And the crowd goes wild!" Wade mimicked the sounds of a cheering stadium while triumphantly holding the remote over his head. However, this was instantaneously followed by a loud growl from Logan as he charged his roommate like a bull and slammed into him harder than a Mack truck.

Wade didn't have time to yelp as his body went flying across the room though the remote had been knocked from his grasp and dropped to the ground, exploding the case open as the batteries all popped out. Logan reached down to pick it all up, shaking his head in annoyance as he walked back over towards the couch and tried to jam the batteries back in properly.

"Motherfucking idiot. Just sit your stupid ass down and take the L. I'm putting on the hockey game and that's that."

But Wade wasn't through yet. He was having too much fun with this! He was always trying to get Logan to roughhouse and play with him, but with the X-man being such a stiff it was hard to get him to let loose. Alcohol usually played a big factor in getting Logan to loosen his inhibitions and engage, but at the current moment he was sober as a judge. 

Pissing him off was the next best thing, and Wade loved a good chase and the physical contact, even if it was of the more painful variety. They had a rule about not spilling any blood inside the apartment, but he knew Logan could be pushed too far sometimes and forget about that so Wade would usually back off before he reached that point.

Though at this present time he had only antagonized him a little bit so he knew Logan would be able to tolerate him just a smidge more.

Logan's hypersensitive ears easily picked up the sound of the energetic man coming at him again as he turned around just as Wade plowed all of his weight into him to tackle him onto the couch. Wade quickly took the position to straddle the man's thighs and started making grabs for the remote as growling curses were hurled at him.

"Goddammit! You juvenile fucking moron! Just back off! The only way you're getting this is over my dead body!"

"Bet," Deadpool nodded and kept up in his efforts.

As they played slap-hands fighting to get a hold of the controller it slipped from their grip, hitting Logan in the face on its way down before sliding inside his collar down into his button-up overshirt.

"Nice going, captain loser. Don't worry, I'll get it!" Wade immediately went after it as he haphazardly began squeezing and poking around Logan's midsection as he tried to find the location of the remote hidden beneath the fabric.

As irritated as he was Logan now found that he had a new problem as his body started involuntarily reacting to the way Wade was grabbing at him. It was making his skin crawl. Shivers running up his spine as he began to writhe underneath the other man, trying to avoid the touches.

"Stop squirming, would you? You're making this way harder than it has to be. And I can't find the remote either," Wade teased, always managing to slip in inappropriate innuendos, but Logan was too occupied to make a sarcastic retort as he frantically tried to grab and get control of Wade's busy hands.

"Q-Quit it, shithead!" Logan gritted through his teeth as Wade just clucked his tongue and shook his head.

"Oh c'mon! Stop fighting it and just give it up!" Wade's words held a double meaning in this situation as his hands moved lower, giving the grump a particularly firm squeeze around his hips as Logan couldn't hold it in anymore. 

His back arched off the couch accompanied by a loud snort; his nose scrunched as a soft string of giggles tumbled their way out. 

Upon hearing that Wade immediately stopped what he was doing; practically frozen in shock as he stared down at the bigger male below him. After a few long, tense moments a slow grin of realization started to spread over his face and Logan was suddenly overcome with a feeling of immense dread at what was about to transpire.

"Did...Did you just giggle?"

"....No," was all Logan could say lamely; his uneasy mind not allowing him to come up with anything else as Wade only smiled more.

"Now here's the plot twist that I never would have expected. You wanna tell me what that was all about? Forgive me if I'm finding it difficult to believe that a hardened tough guy like you could possibly be, dare I say it.....ticklish."

Logan's eyes betrayed him as they widened in pure terror; his brain frantically trying to figure out a solution to get him out of this mess, but his silence told more than enough.

"Ohohoho, you are, aren't you? Well this just made things a lot more sexy...I mean, interesting," Wade stroked his own chin, pondering the situation while Logan finally regained his wit and was now on the rebound to try to deny it.

"What? Are you kidding? Tch! I am not ticklish. Where the fuck do you come up with such stupid ideas?" He made his best attempt to sound convincing, but Wade could easily see right through his bullshit.

"I gotta tell you that all sounds exactly like something a ticklish person would say. A pitiful performance like that isn't going to win you any Oscars," Wade smirked before his eyes then drifted back down to Logan's torso, "Oh dear. It looks like the remote has fallen inside your shirt. Whatever shall we do?"

Wade was gently tugging at the front of his shirt as Logan narrowed his eyes.

"Just get offa me and I'll get it myself. Quit looking for excuses to grope me, ya fucking pervert," Logan growled deeply with his characteristic hard-as-nails Wolverine glare, trying to be as off-putting as possible to hopefully get Wade to lose the notion.

"But it's so confusing when your mouth says 'no', but your eyes say 'yes'," Wade grinned, giving a light tickle to Logan's sides that made him flinch, "By the way, what do you want your safe word to be?"

"Touch me and I will cut your useless motherfucking head off, Wilson."

Wade laughed chaotically and shook his head.

"Now that's kind of a mouthful to say. You should pick something easier like 'umbrella' or 'avocado' or 'supercalifragilisticexpialidocious'-"

Logan realized he was running out of time for stalling and was now struggling to push Wade off of him before he could actually carry out this heinous act, but the merc simply shoved his arms aside and launched his attack, tickling wildly along his ribcage.

"Oh I get it! You don't want a safe word! Very kinky! I like your style! Well you did say the only way I was getting the remote was over your dead body. Who knew it was going to be death by tickling?"

Logan made a strained grunting noise as he steeled himself and began writhing about, still fighting to force Wade off despite the fingers running along his ribs. He in no way wanted to give Wade the satisfaction of making him laugh and would hold it in for as long as he could.

"Looks like we've got a tough guy, ladies and gentlemen," Wade grinned, momentarily looking out at the camera then turning back to his victim, "You know in all the fanfics I've read it's always the toughest guys that are the most ticklish of all. Look at you doing everything in your power not to laugh. How cute. Too bad you're not going to be able to keep that up. I pretty much wrote the book on 'lerring."

Wolverine had no idea what that meant but could hardly fathom the idea that he was going to have to listen to Wade's annoying jabbering and teases without being able to give him a piece of his mind. Because if he even dared to open his mouth it was game over and he was going to fucking lose it.

"So are you like one of those guys who are only ticklish around here...," Wade squeezed and massaged into his sides as an involuntary grin stretched across Logan's face while keeping his jaw clenched, "Or are you one of those head-to-toe ticklish kinda guys? I'm betting the latter."

While still keeping one hand digging into his side Deadpool now reached up to teasingly trace his fingers with a feather-light touch over Logan's ear and down his neck as the man wrenched his head away and scrunched up his shoulder to try to cover up that side of his head.

"Ooooh so sensitive. Am I going to have some fun with you. All we're missing is the sweet sound of your laughter. C'moooooooon just let it out already. You're not embarrassed of your laugh, are you? I'm sure it's wonderful. Don't be shy now, it's just the two of us here."

Every word that came out of Wade's mouth was slowly eating away at Logan's resolve along with his mental capacity to resist the laughter building up inside of him. Giving into Wade's demands was not high on his list of favorable activities, but he knew it was about to happen whether he wanted it to or not.

"You are one hard nut to crack, I'll give you that. But that's okay, it's just going to make breaking you even sweeter. Heheh, look how red your face is. You look like you're about to explode. I just need to find the right spot to poke that bubble and free you of your burden. Hmmm, I think I know where....," Wade smirked big time as he changed tactics to thrust his hands underneath Logan's arms and furiously tickle into his armpits.

The battle was finally over. Logan had fought for as long as he possibly could, but he just couldn't take it anymore. With Wade having honed in on one of his most sensitive areas he felt his lips make one last valiant effort to stay sealed as they trembled right before releasing his loud, pent-up outburst.

"HAHAHaahaha! AhahahahaStop! Stahahahap ihihhit!" Logan hollered as he managed to shove Wade's hands out of his pits, though they immediately latched onto his waist and dug right in. Wade was beyond pleased with this turn of events.

"Ahhhh there it is. And it's just as adorable as I imagined. See? Nothing to be embarrassed about," Wade's grin encompassed his whole face as he didn't let up and kept kneading his thumbs right above Logan's hips.

"I wahahahasn't embahahaharrassed, ya dehehehense fuhuhuhucking prihihihiiick!  Gahahahahaa! Just didhihihidn't wahahahaha-wahant to gihihihive you the sss-satisfahahahaction!" Logan struggled to speak clearly through his laughter as he twisted and squirmed, trying to wriggle out from under the other man.

"Well mission failed, my little stud muffin. I can't believe you've been hiding your ticklishness from me all this time. Think of all the fun we're going to have together now!" Wade exclaimed with pure glee as he moved back up to the ribs now that he was receiving the reactions he wanted, making Logan cackle uncontrollably.

"Fuhuhuhuhuuuuck!! Okaahahahay! You gohohohohot meheheee! I'm tihihihicklish! Now fuhuhuhuhuhuck ohhohohoff!" Logan's hysterical proclamation was accompanied by a series of hard snorts, making Wade's face light up even more.

"You're a snorter?! Oh that's just so precious! How can you expect me to fuck off after hearing that?! Nononono, I think I will keep fucking on, thank you very much! Besides if I stop now then this will be the shortest tickle fic ever written!" He increased his speed, probing between every rib bone as he played his friend's sides like a ticklish piano.

Logan surprisingly laughed even harder, wheezing for air as he continued letting out a snort every few seconds with his burly arms pitifully clamped as tight as he could against his sides. Nothing was stopping the devilishly dexterous fingers of his hyper roommate though.

"Wihihihilsonaaahahahahah.......sssstooooohahahahahahooooop! I'll....I'll gihihihihive you ohohone lahahahast chaaa-EEEHEEHEEHeheheheheheeh!" Logan literally squealed much to his chagrin as he broke into high-pitched giggles with Wade switching spots to now claw mercilessly at his stomach and waist.

"Oh I've never heard a Wolverine squeal before. It's just the gift that keeps on giving. Definitely going to need that as my new ringtone. But hmmm, I think this could be better...," Wade mused as his fingers kept scratching over the buttons going down Logan's flannel shirt, no doubt hindering his tickling efforts if only a little.

In the next second he grabbed Logan's overshirt and pulled hard in opposite directions to pop all the buttons as the remote was finally freed and clattered to the floor. The mercenary smirked as he saw that Logan wasn't wearing anything underneath as his hairy, heavy-muscled torso was now on full display.

Logan was grateful that it had all stopped and the remote was now nowhere near him as he leaned his head back and tried to catch his breath.

"........Fuck......Okay.....You win you win. Just take the fucking thing.....and go ahead and watch your stupid ass shoHOHohOhOHOhoW! NAAAAHOHOHOHOOOOO!!"

Logan had thought it was over, but his momentary sparkle of hope vanished instantly as Wade paid the controller no mind and lunged for him again.

"Ahh yes, that's much better! Now I can really get my hands in here!" Wade smirked in delight with his fingers currently buried and wriggling into Logan's armpits while the feral man roared with deep belly laughs before fizzling into helpless wheezes.

"Ohoho you're very tickly here, aren't you? Bet you wish you would've chosen a safe word now, huh? Or not. Maybe you're enjoying this. Is that it? Don't lie to me now."

"I'm gohohohohonna fffffff-aaahahahhahahah.....fuhuhuhucking k-kihihihill yooooou!" Logan wheezed out as he weakly smacked at Wade's arms and haphazardly kicked his legs around.

"Awww don't be mean, peanut. I just can't get enough of the sound of your laugh. That's not a crime, is it?"

Logan couldn't remember having ever been tickled like this. It had been so long since he'd been this close to anybody, and his memory of such things was pretty fuzzy of anything that happened before his regrettable incident. After those events he'd become even more withdrawn and had fallen deep into depression from the unbearable guilt he felt, confident that he never deserved to be happy again.

And then this annoying little fucker appeared at that bar one day and dragged him on the wildest, most fucked up adventure he could ever recall being on. If at the beginning of all that someone had told him that Wade and he were going to become great friends then he would have laughed right in their face.

But it did happen, and Logan was taken-aback to finally be around someone again who actually cared about his well-being. Someone who wanted the best for him and to make sure that he knew that he mattered. Someone who wanted nothing more than for him to be happy.

And Deadpool was always trying to make him laugh. The look of genuine happiness on Wade's face was unmatched whenever one of his jokes managed to land and make Logan chuckle. The X-man seemed to smile a lot more these days, but laughing was still a rare occurrence for him, which is why Logan was so defensive against the tickling that was currently causing him to do so.

But could he say with complete honesty that he truly hated all this? The answer irked him a little bit because it was no, he didn't hate it, but he was conflicted because he still didn't think he should be allowed to feel pure joy again. 

He felt that guilt come up again when he admitted to himself that laughing like this actually felt good. He didn't deserve to feel good. Ever. But obviously Wade had a difference of opinion on that. Wanting him to smile. Wanting him to laugh. Wanting him to let go of his guilt and be happy in this universe that undoubtedly wouldn't be here without him.

"Don't think I forgot about this little sweet spot!"

Wade brought him out of these thoughts rather quickly once he began scribbling all ten fingers over his taut, bare stomach as the Wolverine tossed his head back in howling laughter with his eyes squeezed shut and tears forming in the corners of them.

"Coochie coochie coo! Awwww wittle Wolvie is so ticklish! Yes, he is! Yes, he is!" The merc cooed playfully, knowing all these teases were key to breaking down Logan's mental barriers. And it was working as Logan finally stopped feeling sorry for himself and just gave into it all.

"W-Waaade nooooo! Aahahahahahaah! Cuhuhuhut it ohohhohout! Pleeheheheheeease!"

The merc cocked his head in amusement, having never heard Logan even come close to begging for anything before.

"Oooooh this really is a killer spot, isn't it? Is this rock-hard belly of yours the most ticklish of all? How ironic," Wade mused while absentmindedly squirming a finger down into his navel, making Logan buck strongly and shriek with unrestrained giggles.

"Shihihihiiiiit! Aaaheehehehehehee! Noohohohooot in thehehehere! Fohohor fuhuhuhucks saahaahaakeheehehehehehahahah-st-stoohahahahop tihihihickling! You're kihihhihillin' meheeheehee!"

Wade's stomach did a little somersault at how vulnerable Logan was now being with him. It was all he ever wanted was to see his friend let go of all his anger and self-loathing of the past and surrender himself to the present day. 

Logan was laughing freely now. He wasn't grinding his teeth and trying to hold anything in anymore and he even stopped really fighting to get Wade off of him.  His face and chest were flushed, tears running down his cheeks as he just laid there in a squirming heap with his wide-open mouth releasing endless peals of laughter and pleas for mercy.

In all honesty Wade didn't want to stop just so he could keep Logan in this state for as long as possible where he was freed from the prison of his own mind, though he knew that he'd have to let him go eventually. Still not quite this second.

"Stop? But I couldn't possibly! Look how happy it's making you! I'd be an asshole to rob you of that! Lucky for you I'm such a good friend, huh?! Tickletickletickletickle! Laugh it up, buddy!" He kept ruthlessly tickling his heaving belly while his other hand slid up to creep back into his armpit, rendering Logan into a powerless wheezing wreck.

"Nohohohooot fahahahaaair! Baahahhhahahaha! Wahahade pleeeease! I cahahahaa-cahahaan't tahahake anymohohohore! Uhuhuhuhuncle!"

Between Wade's unrelenting yapping and Logan's loud fits of laughter they both failed to hear the sound of the front doorknob rattling right before it opened and in walked Dopinder with several plastic bags of take-out in his hands.

"Hello? Your UberEats order is here, Mr. Logan. I've got your hot wings and your pizza rolls and your-AAAH!!" Dopinder let out a scream as he rounded the corner to find Wade straddling and feeling up a howling, red-faced and bare-chested Wolverine. 

Upon hearing the terrified cry Wade immediately paused what he was doing as he looked back over his shoulder like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Uhh heeeey Dopinder. Ummm.....This isn't what it looks like.....," he had a guilty look on his face, but quickly revealed his facade as he broke into a devious grin, "Just fucking with you! It's totally what it looks like!"

"And-And what exactly does it look like?" The younger man dared to ask despite his better judgement.

"Well you see Dopinder when two men start living together they begin to develop these feelings; feelings that cause them to get these strong urges that they just can't ignore and-," Wade's tirade of nonsense was cut off as Logan took the opportunity to give him a hard shove and flip him over the back of the couch between pants for air

"Fucking idiot. Don't...freak out, kid. The asshole....was just ticklin' me...is all," Logan breathlessly grunted while moving to take a normal seated position on the couch as Wade then popped his head up from the back.

"That's what he wants to call it. Wanna get in on this action, Dopinder?"

"Oh uhh hehe, n-no thank you. I actually have some more deliveries to get finished. Ermm, next time perhaps," he stuttered nervously as he gingerly placed the food down onto the coffee table in front of them and began to make his exit from the apartment.

"Don't think I'm not holding you to that," Wade teased, making his former cab driver blush and dart out through the door as Wade chuckled and nudged Logan in the shoulder, "Hehehe, did you see how flustered he got? I'll bet he's even more ticklish than you are."

"Leave the kid alone, Wilson. You'd probably kill him. He doesn't have a healing factor like I do," Logan snorted, bunching up his shoulders as Wade lightly ran a finger across the back of his neck.

"Ohh I can be gentle if I want. But I'm pretty sure you're the kind of guy who likes it rough," Wade teased as he moved around to the front of the couch to sit next to the other man, surprised to hear Logan let out a low chuckle.

"Was that a laugh? Nice to see you finally start to appreciate my elite level of humor. Maybe I won't have to start with the daily tickle sessions after all."

Logan made a face at that and lifted his brow.

"Daily? Yeah fuck no, that ain't happening. Once in a while......fine. But I don't think I could take it every day," he mentally shivered thinking about what Wade just put him through.

"Tell you what, you start laughing a little more at my jokes and I'll consider it. But no fake laughing! Because I can tell the difference! Especially now that I know what your real laugh sounds like and let me tell you it's going to be hard for me to get enough of it," Wade experimentally grabbed his knee, giving it a firm squeeze and digging his fingers in around the kneecap as Logan instantly wheezed out a laugh and quickly wrenched the hand off of him.

"Alrihight! I get it! Promise I'll try!"

"I guess that's all I can ask of you. Of course I'm still making it my mission to find everywhere else you're ticklish, and what other really bad spots you have.....unless you just want to tell me," Wade suggested with a grin as Logan just smirked right back.

"Now where'd be the fun in that?"

"You know, you are so right, you smug little honey badger. I gotta say though I'm liking this mood you're in now."

"Well it's your fault. Ya tickled me so bad I couldn't even think straight. Seems like you pushed all the negative thoughts right outta my mind," Logan confessed as Wade began to reconsider his earlier promise.

"Is that so? Hmmm maybe those daily tickle sessions are a good idea after all...," Wade teased just to watch Logan squirm at the thought again.

"I don't think so, bub. Besides, look what ya did," he gestured to his wide-open shirt, pointing at all the areas missing buttons, "You ruined my favorite fucking shirt, dickhead."

"Hardly. You've got like twenty of the exact same one. That's all you ever wear," Wade was quick to point out as Logan just shrugged with a smile.

"So? What's your point?"

"My point is you're a walking fashion disaster. But okay, I'll try not to be so rough next time. We can do the gentle stuff if you prefer. So for research purposes can you tell me how you feel about feathers, hm?" He grinned as he saw Logan shift uneasily in his seat.

"You're gettin' a little crazy now, Wilson."

"Oh c'moooon, just imagine a nice, fluffy feather teasing that big ol' neck of yours.....circling your little tummy button....stroking the backs of your knees.....threading between all your toes....I can't imagine that your feet were spared of your adorable weakness."

"Wade...."

"Oooh! What about raspberries?! Those are fun! Bet it would drive you insane if I blew them on your belly. How about we test that out really quick?" Wade took a deep breath and started leaning towards him with his eyes locked onto his stomach.

"Alright cut it out!" Logan's hand caught him by the face and shoved him kind of hard, though couldn't stop himself from chuckling as he shook his head, "Fuckin' hell, you've seriously got a career in how to mentally torture a guy."

"At your service," Wade tipped an invisible hat as he then surveyed all the bags of food on the table in front of them, "So what did you order all of this for?"

"I told ya I was gonna watch the hockey game. Can't watch it without some proper snacks now," he reached into one of the bags and pulled out a tall can of beer as he popped the pull ring and took a long drink out of it while the other man began removing the take-out boxes.

"Chimichangas? Since when do you eat chimichangas?" Wade looked over at him questionably upon opening one of the containers as Logan gave him a half-smile.

"I got those for you, dumbass. Thought maybe you'd wanna hang out and watch the game with me." 

Wade was left momentarily speechless, truly touched by Logan's unexpected gesture.

"Well.....yeah of course. I'd love to. But how come you didn't ask me earlier?"

"Didn't get a chance to because you started bein' an idiot and going off about some other stupid show....'Touched By An Asshole' or something. What kinda pervy ass show is that anywaahaahaays?" Logan giggled, rubbing at his ribs where Wade had now just indignantly poked him.

"It's 'Touched By An Angel', you disrespectful twat. And it's a national treasure. But besides the fact that I've seen every episode, I didn't really want to watch it. I was just trying to get a rise out of you. You seemed tense," Wade admitted as Logan only shrugged and sipped from his beer can.

"When am I not?"

"Umm...Right now. Honestly I haven't you seen this relaxed in.....ever. Even when you're drunk sometimes you're still pretty moody," Wade pointed out as Logan took it in and knew he was right. He'd literally been forced into laughing off all of the burdens that he had carried for many years. His mind currently free from all the adverse feelings and troubles that he'd been endlessly plagued. 

The effects were likely not permanent but at least for the time being he felt good. Having to suffer through a vicious tickle attack to achieve that was more than worth it he decided.

"Hmph. Yeah. I guess you're right," a smile broke across Logan's face as he punched Wade in the shoulder, "Thanks asshole."

"Any time. And if you ever change your mind about the daily ticklings then I'm your guy," Wade was glowing from the actual genuine appreciation he'd just received from the normally cantankerous Wolverine.

"Heh. We'll see," Logan smirked as he bent over to pick up the remote off of the floor and turned on the television ahead of them, switching channels until he found the right one, "So do ya even like hockey?"

Wade nodded enthusiastically.

"Love it so much that I've never watched a game in my entire life," he said matter-of-factly before clapping his hands in excitement when he saw Dogpool trot into the room, patting the spot on the couch next to him as she jumped up.

Logan sighed as he handed his roommate a beer, realizing that the next few hours were going to be filled with Wade obnoxiously asking questions about every little thing that happened in the game. Though he couldn't help but smile as he watched the man-child start happily eating the chimichangas while simultaneously feeding little bits of them to his unusual looking dog.

Truth be told they all were an unusual bunch. Not just the three of them, but Blind Al, Peter, and Dopinder, to name a few. All these people that Wade had brought into his life and openly shared with him. Not to mention without Wade's intervention he never would have met Laura; someone he found he made a fast connection with and was now someone he cared deeply about.

Really Wade had rescued him that day. Rescued him from himself and gave him another reason to keep on living for. He felt his heart warm as he looked over at one of the side tables where Wade kept a framed photo of all of their friends; only now it was a new picture that included Logan, Laura and Mary Puppins in it.

Logan's smile grew as he reached over to pat the dog on the head before Wade made a whimpering noise and leaned his own head towards him to receive the same affection. He chuckled and obliged for a few moments before getting a wicked grin on his face as he snatched the hair piece off of Wade's head, prompting a momentary yelp of pain from the scarred man.

As the merc rubbed at his head while glaring over at him Logan found it impossible not to start laughing while jokingly dangling the toupee up in his hand. Wade then promptly broke into a smirk that told him he was dead, though even with that warning Logan made no attempt to escape.

Wade easily knocked him onto his back again to mercilessly tickle his sides while at the same time making the Wolverine shriek by blowing those promised raspberries into his stomach. And they tickled just as badly as Wade had said.

Yes, they were an unusual bunch, but they were his whole world now. And Logan was never going to let them down. Over his dead body.

[sanvcnblvd]

[Nova, Baby] by chamel

[Nova, Baby] by chamel/@cha-melodius

My god. This fic.

I could reread this fic over and over again (that and its companion/sequel holiday fic ... 😉). Back when I finished other canon-divergent fics about firstprince, I wondered what it would be like if Alex and Henry were a different kind of badass, and here comes chamel’s AU. Hit me like a MACK truck

And how she manages to include a 5+1 trope in the middle of it??? Are you freaking kidding me??? UGH ❤️❤️❤️

chamel if/when you read this, you’re one of my favourite firstprince writers and I’ve already said this to you before but what an inspiration you are and you deserve nothing but great things.

I am particularly proud of how Bea looks exceedingly badass on the cover. And because Oscar Isaac seems to be one of the main contenders for fan casts when it comes to Raphael Luna, he neeeeeded to be on this cover.

The full poster that can be added to the .epub file for your kindle/e-book reader is at the end of the post! If you need any assistance, please don't be afraid to ask!

[kooksvspogues]

Happy 1st Birthday Lilian!! 🥳

Part 2 -

Authors note: thank you guys sooooo much for the love I received on Part 1. I used to write so much, but gave a lot of it up, this is my first tumblr account and I really wanted to give my writing a shot on here. Thank you again, sooo much🥹❤️

“Really? Thought we agreed that we would pretend that didn’t happen?” I roll my eyes

“What if I don’t want to forget about it?” He asked

“Well that’s not what we agreed on” I state, “Mack would be really mad about that”

“You do realize Logan flirts with you 24/7 and all she does is laugh” Drew points out

“Yeah cause she knows it’s 100% jokes on both sides” I explain

“Maddie, we talked for hours and made out for like 20 minutes and you ran off… I don’t think Mackayla would be that pissed about it.. besides, I haven’t had that good of a conversation with anybody ever in my life. I’m not asking to be any more than just friends, I just really enjoyed having somebody to talk to like that” he explained

“We can be friends, that’s it” I state

“Okay, cool. But, I do have one question” he says

“What?” I ask looking over at him

“Why did you run off?” He asks

“Beca——“ I started but my phone started to ring. Saved by the bell. I look down and see that it’s Mack calling me, “yes ma’am?” I answer

“Why have y’all been at a stop sign for like 5 minutes?” She asks and I can’t help but laugh

“Me and Drew were talking about Lilian and he was showing me pictures he has taken, why?” I lie, watching as Drew gave me a weird look and I point for him to start driving

“Oh, okay, well will you grab us a big bottle of fireball while your out, I forgot to add that to the list” she explained

“Yea as long as you stop stalking me” I laugh

“Fireball is for you ma’am, and I will never stop stalking you, y’all be careful and hurry up” she said

“Sir yes sir” I laugh before hanging up

“She’s stalking us?” Drew asked

“Yep, so get a move on” I say

“You never answered my question” he said

“And it got interrupted for a reason” I state keeping my eyes on the road ahead of us, “man, I forgot how much I missed this place”

“Yeah the views are beautiful” he says and I feel his eyes on me, causing me to glance over at him

“Can you keep your eyes on the road?” I laugh

“Hard to” he says grinning before winking at me

“Get me to this liquor store and back in one piece please” I beg making him laugh

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the way back to the house, I did everything in my power to not let that question come up again. How was I supposed to answer it.. why did I run? How was I supposed to explain that just in a few hours of talking, I had fallen for my bestfriends brother and then the feelings grew 20x more the second his lips touched mine. Mack would be furious probably, especially knowing we snuck off at her wedding to make out. I can’t do that to her. The more his hands touched me and the tighter his arms got around me, the more it hit me like a truck that I couldn’t do this, not to Mack, she’s the best friend I’ve ever had and I can’t do anything to jeopardize that.

“Hey, we’re here” Drew said shaking her arm pulling me out of my thoughts, “you okay?”

“Perfect” I say shooting him a quick smile before opening the door and sliding out.

Logan came rushing out of the house to the passenger side of the truck as I smile up at him.

“I’ll get this, you go ahead and go inside” he tells me and I nod, quickly going inside only to be met with Mack and Liliana at the door.

“Everything go fine, figured an alcohol run would be a good ice breaker for you two to get to know each other” Mack said

“Oh yeah, he’s very sweet” I smile at her before making grabby hands for Liliana, to which is happily handed her over.

“Yeah, he’s awesome, did the liquor store have everything on the list?” She asked

“Yes ma’am, felt like alcoholics coming out” I said making us both laugh as we watch the boys walk up to the door. Liliana making noises as soon as she sees Drew come into view making him smile real big down at her before glancing up at me holding her. I smile back at him as I follow behind Mack into the kitchen after the boys.

“Okay, so most of everything needs to go in the patio fridge, I’ll grab what I want to stay in here” Mack says as we all stand around waiting for her to separate everything. I rearrange Liliana and put her on my other hip, looking up and finding Drew’s eyes on me, causing me to raise an eyebrow, to which he just winked back. I shake my head but can’t help but slightly smile.

“Mads, you want your stuff in here or outside?” She asks

“In here, duh” I say immediately reaching for the fireball and going to stick it in the freezer.

“What else do you drink?” Drew asked

“She’s a hard liquor girl if she gets to choose” Mack answered for me

“Pretty much” I laugh as drew nods crossing his arms

“Hey uh Mack, would you be okay with me asking Austin and chase to go out with us tomorrow?” Drew asked

“Yeah, of course, are they the only two in town?” She asked

“Yeah, as far as I know” he answered as she nodded.

“Let me go call them before I forget” he said before walking out

“You’ll love Chase and Austin” Mack said catching my attention

“Well if you do, I’m sure I will too” I smile

“And they love to dance” she said shaking her shoulders making me and Liliana giggle, “so maybe you can find you a new dance partner” she added

“Yeah maybe so” I say shrugging as Drew walks back in.

“They’ll be here, you may have a house full tomorrow since your house is closest” Drew says

“They know where everything is, they’ll just have to crash on the couches or floor this time… that is, unless one gets on Maddie’s good side” she said wiggling her eyebrows, making mine and Drew’s eye widen

“Please don’t say that” I plead

“What? I’m just saying, I mean, I think Chase is talking to someone but Austin, he’s single and ready to mingle the last I heard” she giggled

“I’m really good” I laugh nervously

“C’mon Maddie, you haven’t told me anything about a guy in like 2 years, wouldn’t hurt to keep look” she winked at me making me shake my head

“Okay, so all the rest of this goes outside?” Drew changed the subject going to pick up bottle and cases, glancing up at me a few times with a clenched jaw.

“Yes, please” she answered as Drew walked out and towards the back patio door, Logan following close behind.

“So, I was thinking, we have a little pool party of our own while the boys grill later?” She asks

“Sounds good to me” I say as she walks closer to me wrapping her arms around me

“I’m so glad you’re here” she says, “I’m so ready to have you completely back in the same state”

“You’re just ready to have a babysitter at any time” I laugh

“I mean, your not wrong, buuut I’ll also be able to have a girls night anytime we want really” she explains

“Also true” I agree as she smiles at me as the boys walk back in as Garrett comes in the front door.

“Who’s ready for burgers??” He yells

“We arrrre” Logan yells back

“Hey baby” Garrett says walking over to Mackayla giving her a kiss

“Hey, thought we could all go for a swim while your grilling, that okay?” She asks

“Yeah, fine with me” he smiled, “I’m just gonna go fire the grill up, get everything put together and get them going, y’all go ahead”

“Alright, swimsuits everybody” she yells pushing the boys towards the stairs, me following behind.

“Does Garrett have a pair we can borrow?” Drew asks

“That’s where we’re going” Mack sings making me laugh a little

“You have a swimsuit, right?” She glances back at me

“Yes ma’am, you want me to go grab one for Lils?” I ask her

“Yes please, her swimsuits should be in the third or fourth drawer” she says and I nod walking towards Liliana’s room.

“Alright Ms. Liliana, what color should we do?” I ask her pulling the drawer out, “want duckies or daisies?” I asks snd she jerks around in my arm making me laugh as she reaches for the bright pink swimsuit with little yellow daisies. “Daisies it is” I smile putting the other one back in the drawer and turning towards her changing table, looking for a swimming diaper. “There they are” I mumble to myself before grinning at Liliana. Once I get her changed, I turn to head towards my room but stop in my tracks when I see Drew standing at the door with his hand leaned up against the frame, every muscle in this man’s arms and chest flexing, smiling down at me

“You’re really good with her” he says calmly, as if he isn’t making my heart, brain, and eyes explode in this very moment

“Thanks” I smile trying oh so hard to keep my eyes on his and not anywhere else.

“You want me to take her so you can go change?” He asks me

“Yeah if you don’t mind” I say as he reaches for her. I walk across the hall into my room and unzip my suitcase, digging around until I find my swimsuits. I pull out my favorite black two piece bikini and quickly change into it but start to hear excited voices downstairs. When I walk out, I see Mack walking back upstairs,

“Hey, Chase and Austin are here, I think Drew told them Garrett was grilling and they hurried on over, was just gonna let you know” she said before glancing down at my swimsuit, “you look smokin” she said putting her hand on her hip, nodding at me.

“You too hot momma” I laugh looking at her bright pink bikini as she grabbed my hand pulling me down the stairs.

“Chase! Austin!” She yells causing them to glance up as we come down the stairs. My eyes immediately locking with Austin’s as he just smiled at me, “this is my bestfriend from college, Madison, Maddie, Mads, dumbass, whatever you prefer” she introduces making me swat at her arm, “Mads, this is Austin and Chase” she says as they both smile at me.

“Nice to meet y’all” I say

“Nice to meet you too” Chase says

“You mind if I just call you beautiful?” Austin says making my eyes widen and cheeks redden as Mack elbows me a little

“Uh um.. yeah. I mean, I guess that’s fine” I nervously say looking up at him as he smiled back at me. I see Drew in the corner of my eye turn away and scratch the back of his head before walking outside.

“Let’s go help Garret dude” Chase says as he catches Austin’s attention again before pushing him outside

“Looks like Austin is interested” she said poking my side

“I need a drink” I say walking into the kitchen, going straight to the freezer and opening up the new bottle of fireball, taking a few swigs.

“Did he make you that nervous?” She asked laughing

“You have no idea…” I say taking another swig thinking about Mack’s brother instead of the man she thinks I’m actually thinking about…

To be continued…

Tag list: (if you want to be added, just let me know❤️)

@percysley @dilfs-4life

[hellsingmongrel]

Man, back in the old days when the manga was unfinished and we had more anime than anything else, I always thought Wolfwood was supposed to be Greek or Italian or something else vaguely Mediterranean! Now, I'm pretty partial to Latino Nick, and I know he's probably supposed to be Japanese, but I love how ethnically ambiguous he is, and seeing everyone's interpretations of him!

No one can agree on what race he's supposed to be, other than the fact that he is very much NOT a white guy, and it just lets everyone see him through their own culture, and I think that's just so great!

What if... what if I just made WW Italian so he can sing in Italian and just have really cute little fusses and mumbling in Italian but also so he can serenade Vash later on and sing to him and uuuuuuuu

[hbyrde36]

Times Like These

(The Anniversary Edition)

Link to anniversary post

Now with amazing FANART 😱

When Eddie finds himself back in his living room, staring down a very alive Chrissy Cunningham, after just having bled to death himself in the middle of a nightmare world, he was rightfully very, very fucking confused.

-Or-

What happens when the new guy, who only just got inducted into the fucked up world of monsters and mayhem, gets stuck in a time loop and finds himself responsible for saving everyone?

Chapter 1: The Hell Loop

WC: 2,902 | AO3 link

Eddie could hardly breathe past the blood that was flooding into his mouth, threatening to choke him before he even had the opportunity to bleed out. He tried to keep it together for Dustin’s sake. The last thing he wanted was for the kid to get hurt or have to see something like this, hence the cutting of the rope, but traumatized was a hell of a lot better than dead, so he couldn’t regret either of the choices he’d made.

“I love you, man.” 

Eddie forced the words out, coughing and sputtering

“I love you too.” Dustin replied.

Eddie couldn’t see anymore, but the tears in the younger boy's voice were hard to miss. 

It was the last thing he heard before he died.

Dying didn’t hurt, quite the opposite actually. Eddie could pinpoint the exact moment he passed on, because it was the same moment the pain stopped. He found himself floating away into an unfamiliar blackness and couldn’t even bring himself to be scared. He was too relieved at being free of the agony and guilt.

Before he could do much more than wonder where he was floating off to, a loud almost overwhelming rushing sound hit his ears. Instinctually, he tried to cover them to drown out the noise, only to realize he didn’t exactly have a body right now. No ears to cover, no hands to do it with.

With that frightening thought his eyes shot open, -oh thank fuck he had eyes again- and his feet hit solid ground. Inexplicably, he was back in the trailer. He looked up to find that the ceiling was intact, and Chrissy Cunningham– whole, and alive, was standing just a few feet in front of him, looking nervous and jittery. 

“Are you sure you have it?”

What the actual fuck?

“Holy shit, Chrissy! You’re alive?!” Eddie gasped.

Her face twisted up in confusion, a feeling Eddie was also becoming intimately familiar with. What was this? Some life-flashing-before-your-eyes-on-the-way-to-the-grave bullshit? But he was already dead, he was sure of it, so that could only mean…

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” he blurted out. 

Why he was apologizing to some visage of the past that probably wasn't even real, he did not know, but it felt appropriate. 

She’d been through a lot. 

“You’re probably not alive, actually, if you’re here. Since I'm, y’know– dead, and all.” He continued, letting out a frankly deranged sounding laugh as he began to pace around the room.

“But why are you here?” He mused, thinking out loud.

It could actually be her, he reasoned. She was dead too, right? But that would mean they wound up in the same place and that was absolutely ridiculous. 

A sweet little thing like her? 

Guaranteed one way ticket to the good place. 

And Eddie? 

Well, he never had any doubts about where he was going to end up.

The realization hit him like a Mack truck, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Oh my god, I’m in Hell. This is Hell. I ran away. I ran– I didn’t even try to help you and then I fucking died!” Eddie let out a painful sob as he dropped to his knees on the floor, hands covering his face. Now that he was back here, having to face her again after what he’d done, It was all hitting him at once. 

His voice shook as he continued rambling. “Right in front of Dustin too… and- and now this is my Hell. I’ll probably have to watch you die, over-and-over-and-over again.”

He felt the air shift, heard the light footsteps as Chrissy took a few hesitant steps towards him. 

“Watch me die?” She said, voice cracking, sounding so, so small and scared. “Eddie, please… you’re kind of freaking me out.”

Shit, he really couldn’t stop fucking this up could he? 

Even if Hell-Chrissy wasn’t real, he still felt horrible for scaring her. None of this was her fault. He rubbed at his face hard and took a deep calming breath before looking up at her again. 

She wasn’t looking at him anymore though. She was rigid, staring straight ahead at something he couldn’t see, only the whites of her eyes visible as they rolled to the back of her head. 

He jumped to his feet, every instinct in his body screaming at him to run, again, but fuck that. He was already dead, probably, and none of this was real– he was almost sure none of this was real, but maybe he could still try to help her. 

Music had snapped Red out of it, maybe it would work for Chrissy too. 

Eddie raced to his bedroom, snatching his Walkman off the bed before sprinting back to the living room. He knew it was pretty fucking unlikely that the head cheerleader of Hawkins High was a secret Metallica fan, but it was the best he could do under the circumstances.

He gently placed the headphones over her ears and pressed play, the volume loud enough that he could just make out the sound of the opening riff to Master of Puppets.

-

It didn’t work. 

He hadn’t really thought it would.

He forced himself to watch as her body began to float.

Listened to the sickening snap as each of her arms and legs were twisted, and broken.

Stood frozen, a silent witness, unmoving until her body dropped to the floor like a ragdoll.

He didn't even scream.

He’d tried, and he hadn’t let her die alone. It was all he could do.

Hell or not, Eddie wasn’t keen on hanging out with a dead body if he could help it. So finally, he let himself go, grabbing his keys off the counter, and rushed out to the van.

–

Eddie drove slowly, aimlessly around town, at a bit of a loss for what to do next. It was a far cry from the way he’d peeled out of the trailer park and sped down the road on the night of Chrissy’s actual death, heart racing like a trapped rat desperately seeking shelter from a predator he couldn't even see. This time around he just felt numb.

Not knowing what else to do, he decided to follow his previous course of action. If he was right in assuming that he was being made to relive his greatest hits from the last 7 days, at least this way he knew he’d get to see Dustin’s face again. He drove towards Lover’s Lake, already dreading spending another night at Rick’s.

–

The morning after a sleepless night found him back in a boat, hiding under a tarp, and clutching tightly to the neck of a broken beer bottle. The numbness had faded hours ago, leaving the door open for anxiety and terror to return in full force. In short, Eddie was freaking out. 

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed since he’d left Chrissy's body to grow cold on the living room floor, but the second he heard the voices outside the boathouse he went into panic mode, just as he had the first time, unsure of what or who might be coming for him. 

Would it be more visions from the past? Or had the devil finally sent his minions to collect.

A few confusing moments, and a jab to the ribs with a fucking wooden oar later, Eddie was, for the second time in his life, throwing Steve Harrington violently against a wall and shoving a jagged edge of glass close enough to his throat that one deep breath would draw blood.

He stared into the other boy's eyes from inches away, and he wanted to drop the bottle. He remembered every single thing Steve and the others had done for him as he faced down the worst week of his life, but this could very well be Hell. 

And that might not be the Steve he’d come to trust.

The one he’d come to know wasn’t the same stuck up asshole he remembered from high school, who had proven time and time again that he was a good guy.

And he couldn’t afford to be wrong.

“Eddie! Stop!” The thing that looked like Dustin shouted. “Eddie, it’s me, it's Dustin. This is Steve, he’s not gonna hurt you. Right, Steve?”

Eddie, wanting to believe it so badly, actually did lower the bottle a little, only to accidentally drop it to the ground, his only weapon shattering at his feet. 

He fisted a hand into the front of Steve’s shirt. 

“What are you doing here man, what do you want from me?” 

Steve dropped the oar, all the breath whooshing out of him at once. “Dustin and Max wanted to find you. I’m just here to keep the little shits safe, I swear.”

Eddie caught movement out of the corner of his eye as Robin and Max began to approach from the side cautiously. Right, they had been there too, he'd almost forgotten. 

“We just want to know what happened, Eddie. We wanna help,” Max said.

It was the earnestness in her voice that got him, that made him finally break and move away from Steve, allowing Robin to rush to his side. 

“You won’t believe me,” Eddie said, barely recognizing the sound of his own voice with the way it trembled. 

He was sure they wouldn't believe it. If it even mattered, if they were even really here, if any of this was even real. 

He was still pretty convinced this was all just some form of divine punishment, and only happening in his own head, after all. 

It wasn’t about what happened to Chrissy. He knew they would believe that, they had once already, but whatever else was going on here? This deja vu flashback thing or whatever it was? They had no reason to trust he was telling the truth about the fact that he was dead– or had died temporarily? Or that this had all happened to him before. 

It was, admittedly, unbelievable. 

So, he made a choice. He didn't tell them that part. He told the same story he had the first time around and they in turn told him a very short history of the Upside Down. It didn’t hit so hard this time, since he’d already heard it all once before, but it was still wild to think about everything this group had been through. He couldn’t believe it’d all been happening right under his nose.

Despite himself, he watched Steve through most of the explanations. Eddie had been so focused on his own experience at the time that he hadn’t paid much attention to him after the attempted throat slashing. He looked dejected, sad, already resigned to the fact that the monsters he’d been protecting these kids from for years now were back, again. Eddie sympathized.

-

The week flew by in a blur of blood, sweat, and tears, events unfolding in the exact same way that he remembered, and he never said a word about it to anyone. 

He kept expecting it all to end somehow. 

On the rare occasion that he fell asleep,  he thought for sure he would wake up from this nightmare either back in his bed after having the longest most fucked up dream of his life, or somewhere– else, preferably on a fluffy cloud after having served his penance for petty crimes.

Unless god actually did hate the gays… then he was fucked. 

It wasn’t until he and Dustin were alone, after fortifying the trailer and getting his guitar set up that he decided– maybe he’d been an idiot to just keep going along with the script like this. It’d been days without so much as a hint of fire and brimstone, so either he'd been sold a bill of goods his whole life about what Hell would be like, or, this was really happening. 

Again. 

At this point, neither possibility was a particularly good one. If he’d been somehow sent back in time and given a second chance, he had absolutely screwed it up. 

Fuck it, he might as well tell Dustin now at least. See what happened.

“Alright, uh, listen, I have to tell you something– and I’m not sure you’re going to believe me but I swear I’m telling you the truth.”

Dustin laughed, bright and incredulous as he checked the plugs on the amp one last time. “After everything we’ve been through the past few days, and the shit I’ve seen over the last three years, do you really think there’s anything I wouldn’t believe?”

Ok, kid had a point. 

Eddie took a deep breath and squared his shoulders.

Here goes nothing. 

“I’ve been through this before, all of it, with you guys. For a while I thought I was in Hell, y’know? Doomed to relive Chrissy’s death over and over again, and between you and me I’m still not totally sure that isn’t the case, but then you guys found me in that damn boathouse just like before, and everything else has happened exactly like I remember, and I-” 

His speech was cut short by Dustin screeching, “Are you serious right now?! You have to be fucking kidding me! I can’t believe you… you’re in a time loop and you didn’t say anything?!”

Eddie’s mouth dropped open, eyebrows raised up nearly to the bandana he had tied around his head. “Wait, you believe me?! Just like that?!”

Dustin put his hands on his hips, in a gesture that was eerily reminiscent of a certain babysitter that Eddie definitely hadn't developed the habit of staring at at every given opportunity. 

Not the time!

“I wouldn’t say, just like that.” Dustin said, snapping his fingers. “If it was anyone outside of the party I would think they were crazy, but this is you we’re talking about. And like I said, after everything? This is not that hard to swallow. I mean, why would you make something like that–”

Dustin stopped abruptly, his entire demeanor changing on a dime as if he’d just discovered something awful. Belatedly, Eddie realized his mistake.

“Eddie, why would you think you were in Hell? Did you… “ The kid trailed off, and when he spoke next his voice was thick with unshed tears. “Do we lose? Did you…die?”

Eddie sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. “Shit, I didn’t think– I guess there’s no way to tell you I might be repeating time without admitting it. Yeah, I… died. As far as Vecna, I have no idea. I was gone before Steve, Robin, and Nancy got back.”

Before he could respond, the Walkie in Dustin’s hand came to life, with Robin’s voice crackling through the small speaker. “She’s in, move on to phase 3. Over.”

“Guess that’s it. Time’s up.” Eddie muttered.

Dustin bit his lip as he looked at Eddie, eyes questioning and full of fear.

Eddie shook his head, silently answering the unasked question. He didn’t want Dustin to tell them, or try and stop this. It was too late. He refused to risk the kid, or somehow make things worse by changing the plan this late in the game. 

Dustin squeezed his eyes closed and pressed the button on the handset to reply, “Copy that, initiating phase three. Over.”

Eddie gave the kid his best reassuring smile as he pulled the guitar strap up over his head and with shaking hands began to play, knowing there was no time to waste. 

-

Bleeding out wasn’t any more fun the second time around. 

Eddie had given it his all, fighting tooth and nail against those flying leeches, but there was no use. There were hundreds of them, and only one of him. Just as he had the first time he took off on that bike to lead the bats away, he’d known the fate he was resigning himself to. The difference this time was, he actually had a sliver of hope. 

If the impossible happened once, maybe it could happen again. 

“Sorry, kid.” Eddie said, choking back blood as he watched Dustin limp towards him. “Didn’t notice the leg last time–“ He paused, panting, trying to catch his breath. Talking had already become difficult. “Shouldn’t have cut the rope, s’not like it stopped you.” 

He forced a smile, trying so hard not to let it show on his face just how much pain he was in. Not that there was much point, the kid had eyes. He could surely see the red ruin Eddie’s body had become.

Dustin sobbed openly and it broke Eddie’s heart. 

“God damnit, Eddie!” He shouted, shaking his head and pounding the ground with his fist. “Promise me if you get another shot at this that you’ll tell me. Tell me as soon as you possibly can about the time loop. Please! We have to come up with another plan.”

Eddie wanted nothing more than to be able to scoop the boy into his arms and comfort him, might have tried anyway but he couldn't move. “What if you don’t believe me?” He choked out.

“I'm adopted,” Dustin blurted out through his sniffles. “My mom only told me last year. No one else knows, not even Steve, but… I trust you, Eddie. I’d believe you without it, but if you need to, tell me that and I’ll believe you.”

Eddie nodded, or tried to, and felt Dustin’s hand slip into his. 

“I love you, man”

“I love you too”

Chapter 2

Thanks to @penny00dreadful for being the best beta, friend and cheerleader.

Shoutout also to @theheadlessphilosopher @withacapitalp and @hitlikehammers for the help and encouragement to do this.

Tagging a few friends that expressed interest or I think might be interested? I am ALWAYS happy to tag or remove - just let me know!

Taglist: @hitlikehammers @pearynice @cranberrymoons @thoroughlycollected @blubblesandink @finntheehumaneater @brbsoulnomming @estrellami-1 @hellion-child @mentallyundone @manda-panda-monium @spicysix @kikidoesfanfic @dreamwatch

[aerodaltonimperial]

katy i bet the inside of the bus is cold and lonely when all your friends have left and your opponent proved you wrong and you lost your belt in front of ten thousand people and you’re 2800 miles from home

All things considered, Jack didn't actually think the night could get worse until the bus doors slammed open with enough force to rattle the whole damn carriage beneath, and he's midway through tugging a new shirt one, one arm wiggling to find the right spot, so he's been good and thoroughly proven wrong. His heart flies up into his throat as every fear he's harbored for the past two years screams against his ears, but—

"What the fuck are you doing?" Jack demands.

Darby yanks the doors closed again once he's in, breathing hard and smelling of engine grease and burning motor oil, and then he slides around on his knees. "I gotta fucking hide."

"In my fucking bus?" It's a miracle Jack gets the shirt on after that, but his bones are gonna rattle out of his skin. "What do you mean you have to hide?"

Darby scoots back until his shoulders hit the wall. "They fucking came back."

"Who came back?"

Darby's eyes flicker up past the seat, to the windshield, which at this point, is mostly just reflecting the lamps the staff has on in the loading bay. There's really nowhere else to park this rig, 'cause it never fits into any of the spots, so Jack ends up just sort of angling it near where the big mack trucks unload. "Claudio and Pac."

"Why the fuck would I—" Jack stops and leans in, squinting. "Are you bleeding?"

"No one's gonna look for me here."

Jack huffs. "Yeah, 'cause I hate your guts. Claudio and Pac won't—"

"No, I mean no one will," Darby interrupts, drawing his knees in as his skull falls back and clunks against the metal wall. "There's no one here for you. No one's gonna come here."

And that... Jesus, that steals the air right out of Jack's lungs. Sure, Darby isn't even wrong, but it's far different thinking it and having someone put it to words like that, giving it life. He glares at Darby while the onslaught of all the shit he's spent the last hour trying to put to sea crashes into him, a tidal wave.

He must go silent for long enough that Darby notices, because the guy lifts his chin, regarding Jack a few feet away. "You lost tonight. You lost the belt."

"Yeah, well," Jack mumbles, throat thick. "Happens to everyone eventually."

Darby lifts his finger to his mouth, chewing on the skin near his thumbnail. It's red again; they're all painted red. They simmer in silence while outside, Jack catches the sound of footsteps passing near enough to echo. He doesn't even care if the Death Riders throw the back doors open and haul Darby out by his stupid pink coat, but Jack's breath catches anyway, involuntary.

Neither of them so much as twitches as the sound circles, pauses, and then, by some miracle, recedes again. Jack exhales in a somewhat rushed gasp. "What the fuck, Darby. What did you do?"

"Ran into their truck."

"With your face?"

Darby cracks a smile, and it seems genuine. "Ha. No, dumbass, with a car. What kinda fuckin' question is that?"

Jack shrugs. "Well, you hit the bus bumper with your forehead before, so it seemed like a logical jump."

"You hit my forehead with the bumper."

"Semantics." With the footsteps gone—and Jack doesn't even know if it was them or not, though it really doesn't matter—the tension has siphoned out of the interior. He stretches his legs out, wincing. He's gonna bruise the colors of the rainbow in the next few days. Then he sighs, looking at the red smeared across Darby's skin. "You're bleeding."

"Happens when your head bounces off the dashboard," Darby says.

"God, you're a dumb fuck," Jack grumbles, as he pushes up onto all fours and retrieves the first aid kit. There isn't much, but at least he's got antiseptic wipes. "I don't know how social Darwinism hasn't taken you out yet."

He ends up kneeling sort of half over, half across Darby's legs, and the guy doesn't push him off, so Jack thinks it's awkward, but acceptable. There's a lot more blood than he'd thought up close, so Jack gets started trying to clean up the worst of it streaked across Darby's forehead and temple.

"He was wearing his ring gear," Darby says, apropos of nothing.

"Who?"

"Pac."

Jack shakes his head. "So? What does that matter?"

"Everyone else was fully dressed," Darby says. "But Pac came out in his fuckin' ring gear, the little panties. That means he was riding in the truck the whole time, shirtless, with his fuckin' panties on. Just starin' at the god damn road while they all took their sweet ass time getting here, probably listening to some undecipherable German death metal." Darby's hands spread to either side. "Isn't that fuckin' weird?"

Jack can't help it. He fucking laughs, and he can't tell if he's pissed off about it or not. "You think Marina gave him some tittie-twisters in there while he was just chilling shirtless?"

"Dude, she's scarier than that fuckin' One Piece clown," Darby says, dead serious, "and she probably has nipple clamps in that fucking briefcase chained to her wrist."

And then they're both just gone. Giggling like schoolgirls as both of them try to shush the other one, and the only thing Jack can think about is Pac sitting stoicly in the driver's side of the Death Riders truck that Claudio has the AC blasting in while he's freezing his bare tits off. It's ridiculous. It's only funny because it's not actually funny, on account of the Death Riders doing a fantastic job of running through every person in the company who would tell them that ritualistic murder isn't exactly a great idea for boosting ticket sales if all the talent ends up dead, but Jack can't help it. The overwhelm of adrenaline loss and the hollow sensation sweeping through his stomach and the fact that he did think he was gonna be alone all night... it's too damn much.

It takes awhile for Jack to recognize that they're both just sort of staring at each other through it all; they've never really done this, been this close. Oh, sure, they've had their faces pressed against each other when they were trying to maim each other, but it never felt like this. Never... easy. Comfortable, in a way that shouldn't work at all but does.

Jack drops the hand holding the antiseptic wipe onto his thigh, mirth abruptly stolen. "Why'd you come here? I could have turned you right over to them."

"Yeah, but you didn't," Darby says, and runs his tongue along his bottom lip once, then twice. A bit of the blood must have caught there.

"Could still do it," Jack tries. "Could go out right now, call them back. Let 'em destroy you for the damage to their truck and dignity."

Darby leans forward. "Sure." He doesn't sound concerned, and he's leaning forward, and Jack ought to back away. "You could."

Jack lost the TNT belt tonight. He tried to prove a point, and he was wrong, and he lost the belt anyway. There's no one here to commiserate with because the Bucks fucked off without a good-bye and Okada disappeared in his fancy car. Danny is probably already gloating to the roster backstage with the belt in his hands, and Jack's here, in the back of his bus, kissing a guy he swore up and down he hated more than life itself.

He absolutely should not be doing this—shouldn't be prodding Darby's mouth open, shouldn't be slipping his tongue in across the corner, shouldn't be liking the way Darby sighs against him, the way the exhale echoes through his cheeks. But he lets it go for a little while, long enough for his thoughts to go hazy, before he draws back just enough to ask, "How hard did you hit your head?"

"So goddamn hard, man," Darby says, another laugh buried in there. So at least Darby has an excuse for this. Jack? He's gonna have to hope the defense of I'm experiencing what is probably an acute mental health crisis holds weight in court.

"Kissing me is a concussion symptom, I think," he murmurs.

Darby moves in to catch Jack's lip between his teeth. "Probably."

"Honestly, we should probably both go see medical," Jack whispers, because Darby tugging on his lip is doing way more for him than it should, and if he's going to have a full-on nervous breakdown, he thinks he shouldn't be operating any heavy machinery. It comes out muffled, on account of, well, Darby's mouth getting in the way.

"Okay," Darby groans, and clearly they aren't going to be going anywhere near medical, since Darby's hands slide out to find Jack's waist.

[momma2boys]

Many thanks to @calaisreno for the prompt that got me writing the story that's been rattling around in my head for a few weeks.

John Watson has been invalided home from Vietnam and is desperately trying to keep Watson's Tri-State Trucking, the family business, solvent. As he travels across New York, Pennsylvania, and New Jersey, he notices a slender stranger. Late one night, they meet.

Prompt for May 1: Open

Everything ached. Everything from his shoulder to his big toe. The ache in his shoulder was dull and heavy. John tried stretching his neck from side to side to loosen it; experience told him it would be useless to try rotating the joint itself. The ache traveled down his arm in buzzy pulses that pierced his elbow and froze his ring and middle fingers. Lifting his hand from the steering wheel, he shook it violently before rhythmically squeezing it into a fist and releasing it.

Harder to bear was the burning pain from buttock to toe. No matter how many times he shifted his weight from one cheek to the other, the pain was constant. Ten miles outside of Binghamton his thigh began to throb. Just a little farther, he thought. Get to a truck stop or rest area, someplace populated and he’d catch forty winks. The lost time would be better than driving his rig off a bridge in desperation.

On the far side of Binghamton he pulled into a truck stop, parking well away from the other semis. After a quick trot to the head, he swallowed two aspirins with a swig from his flask and settled down in his bunk. The aptly named coffin sleeper provided just enough room to pull off his boots and shimmy out of his jeans before pulling the blanket over himself, but he didn’t care. His rig was paid for—much as he admired the newer Peterbilts with their fancy cabs that were as well-appointed as a Newark studio apartment, the 1962 Mack belonged to Watson’s Tri-State Trucking one hundred percent and only needed the occasional bit of doctoring and prayer.

Two days on the road with minimal breaks—the client in Buffalo paid a bonus for early delivery—meant John was exhausted. Despite the pain, he was asleep in minutes. His dreams were painless, pleasant, in fact. He was two-stepping ‘round the dance floor at the Bluebonnet, feet sliding on the smooth wooden floor, slow-slow, quick-quick. He swayed in sync with the music and his hips moved easily. Slow-slow, quick-quick. His partner was vague, as happens in dreams, but he didn’t care. His body felt loose, moving to the music—some cover band playing classic hits--and his partner was gracefully leading him around the floor. The hips beneath his hands were slender and their gentle motion filled him with a tingling that was the opposite of pain. Together they moved in perfect harmony like a set of well-matched horses at the county fair. Slow-slow, quick-quick. A welcome warmth surged below his waist and he pulled his partner closer. John threaded fingers through his partner’s belt loops to tug their bodies closer, allowing him to feel a bulge there, matching and meeting his own. Slow-slow, quick-quick. As he dug his hips against theirs, his partner came into focus; not a woman, but the man from the truck stop. Dark curls, sharp cheekbones, pale skin, cupid bow lips. A little closer and he could kiss that plush mouth.

Suddenly, the twangy music was overpowered by the screeching whine of artillery.

“Incoming!” John yelled as he pulled the stranger off the dance floor.

Cover, they needed cover. John scanned the bar for a table, an alcove, anywhere that might provide shelter. This was a complete clusterfuck—his head ached from the constant whine of missiles and the acrid stink of explosives. The dance floor was littered with spent shells and disembodied limbs. John pulled on the stranger’s arm, sending them both skating through the slick of blood covering the smooth wooden boards. His eyes were watering now, his nose dripping from the smoke and the smell of burning flesh. This is it—this is how he’ll go home, another body bag, another nameless number on the evening news— He is shaking, huddled on the floor with a stranger in his arms because there is no escape, unless….Unless this were a dream, if he were dreaming, he could wake up. Wake up, he willed himself, wake up, dammit…wake the fuck up, asshole!

He shut his eyes and covered his head with his arms—he owed it to Harry, to Dad, to at least try to survive—

“You’re all right,” soothed a resonant voice.

“It’s not all right,” John heard himself say, “it will never be all right…”

Cold. He was cold despite being soaked in sweat.

“Yes, I know,” the voice answered, “but you are all right.”

There was a hand on his back, firm and steadying. Whoever was with him was close enough that he could smell the coffee and peanuts on his breath. John found himself matching his own breaths to those of this nameless, faceless companion. He didn’t realise how disordered his breathing had been until it slowed into an ordered rhythm. In, two, three, out, two, three. Slow, slow, slow.

“That’s it. Breathe. Good.” The strong hand traced circles on his back in time to their respirations.

John squeezed his eyes tightly shut before opening them. The world around him came into focus. It was night—he was in his truck—the 1962 Mack that his father had paid off before he died—tangled in his blanket. Kneeling on the driver’s seat was the stranger he’d seen in Gouldsboro and Norristown and Buffalo.

“What…how’d,” John croaked, he swallowed hard and tried again, “what are you, how did you get into my truck?”

“Hanger,” the man said, “left your window rolled down enough to work it through, which makes sense given the temperature and humidity this evening, but you might want to consider a different sleeping arrangement if you are opposed to uninvited guests. An inch and half of space is an open invitation, although I wouldn’t have taken you up on it if you hadn’t been screaming your head off. I rather thought you were being attacked, but now I reckon it was just a nightmare.”

[givesupp]

The Ones Who Live (episode 4 spoilers)

My head feels like it's going to implode in on me and I just need to vomit my thoughts somewhere before it does. I remember hearing about the The Walking Dead (literally everyone and their mother was talking about it). I remember never wanting to watch it because it was SO popular and I've never been a huge fan of watching anything while it was still going live and everyone was into it. I'm weird IDK.

I had just finished up another TV series and was feeling empty, as one usually does and just wanted to dive into a new series. I chose The Walking Dead, finally deciding to give it a chance. I binged the first 4 seasons on Netflix and as I was doing this, it was literally becoming life saving. Only a few short years prior to starting the series I had just started dealing with severe depression. It was crippling. IYKYK. And to make a long story short, falling in love with this show, falling in love with Rick Grimes gave me something to hold on to.

'It's just a show' - this has been said to me many times. But it's not just a show to me. It's a lifeline. Its taking an inspiring moment and grabbing it with the only strength you have left and burning it into your head because if they can do it you can do it. You'll think about it the next time you feel like you can't get out of bed because there just isn't a point. It's taking a character and watching him fight for his sons life while everyone around belittles his character as a father and leader and using that the next time you feel like your chest is about to cave in from the sheer force of anxiety that just hit you like a mack truck. And you think about this character persevering while you sit in the corner of your bathroom floor with a cold rag on your face just simply trying to breathe.

So many examples, so many moments TWD has breathed life back into me when nothing else could.

And then Richonne.

RICHONNE.

Oh my god, what a fucking absolute treasure to emerge from this series. The slowburn of it, the showcasing of patience and friendship, love and trust and overcoming loss and hardships - together.

Finding your person. Camaraderie. True, real love. A soulmate. This? Despite loss, death at the hands of others, death at the hands of your own, tragedy, hopelessness, mental illness, losing your child? I can't even find words to express what Rick and Michonne mean to me separately, but as a couple? I am unable to express in words because it just would not do justice to what they actually represent to me in my own personal life.

Nearly a month ago we were given The Ones Who Live episode 1. And I remember watching that and having to physically remove myself from my home, go outside, sit down on the ground and reflect while sun soaking near a river. That's how blown away I was over the writing, the story, the emotions centered around this character that I have watched and grown to love over years.

Episode 4? EPISODE 4 is a fucking WELLSPRING of emotions, struggle with mental wellness, disagreement, unconditional love, immense hurt, understanding and patience. A relationship struggling to be what it was, if not anything at all. A broken man and a broken woman. A son, who has DIED years ago still finding a way to be the one who brings his parents back together. Who brings strength to his dad even after all this time...

Carl placed in the palm of his fathers hand as a sketch on a broken phone breathing life back into him. This, from his wife. Finding a way to save him. Giving him a sense of purpose, meaning back to him after he declared his own death not that long ago because he could not and does not ever want to live without her.

You cannot tell me that this show isn't important.

That it isn't life saving.

That it isn't at the very least forcing us to reflect and discuss and acknowledge our own lives, our own relationships, our own mental health, our own circumstances, our -

No.

This isn't just a show to me.

Thanks for reading my vomit novel.

[hsonlyangel]

Hi friends💕 I haven’t been on this blog for over 4 years (!!) but in light of recent events, I didn’t know where else to turn.

I can’t emphasize what a key role One Direction played in shaping my teen years. My first exposure to fan fiction was with 1D fics and oh boy did that open up a can of worms. I still have a Pinterest board from 2012 with everything from cute pics of the boys to unhinged (borderline incoherent) imagines. In tenth grade, I bought school supplies with Liam’s face on it because I was a Liam girlie before Harry *gasp*. I saw This Is Us in theaters and the Teenage Dirtbag sequence permanently altered my brain chemistry (seriously, give it a rewatch). When the Best Song Ever music video came out, I tortured my little brother by playing it on loop. I sat in shocked silence in my sociology class as news broke of Zayn leaving the band. My college roommate indulged me as I lost my mind over the release of the carpool karaoke video. I’m approaching 30 now but all of these memories are *so* fresh in my mind.

Although I don’t listen to them as much as I did a decade ago, when I need a pick me up or dose of teenage nostalgia, I throw on 1D. On Wednesday, I needed some cheering up so I put on some of their music and it helped, as always. The last song I listened to was Love You Goodbye and then I planned to go about my errands as usual. About 15 minutes later, in the middle of a bookstore, I got a text from my mom saying Liam had passed away. It felt like the world stopped. Getting back in the car to drive home, 1D came back on the queue and grief hit me like a Mack truck. Less than an hour before, I had been happily singing along to their music and now Liam’s just…gone? It doesn’t feel real. None of my friends were ever Directioners so I don’t really have an outlet for this grief. Which brings me here.

I’m not on social media much anymore for my mental health, but I knew that Tumblr was one of the only places where I would feel seen and understood in the aftermath of this loss. I was caught off guard by the depths of my grief and I just can’t stop crying. I see deep cuts of the band in their early days and the throwbacks that used to make me laugh now make me weep. The songs that got me through some of the most difficult times in my life will never be experienced the same way. I couldn’t afford 1D tickets while they were touring but a tiny part of me was hoping one day I could see them on a reunion tour in honor of my inner teen. I keep vacillating between denial and devastation and the whole situation is still so surreal.

Even though it’s under heartbreaking circumstances, it’s been so validating and heartwarming to see members of this community coming back and reminiscing, being open about their grief, and supporting one another. It’s hard to describe how deeply this hurts to people outside of the Directioner bubble, but I know y’all get it. I don’t know how to begin processing this but I’m gonna try.

Sending so much love and strength to everyone affected by this. You are not alone❤️

[desultory-novice]

The post about Kirbys allies having 2 responses to him nearly falling is almost perfect, but it misses a vital 3rd option.

Standing beside him, saying "You're better than this, Kirby"

[This Post]

Fair! In fact, I should have split up the first category further with an: "Are you all right, Kirby?!" option too as "How dare you hurt Kirby?!" implies a level of aggression not all the characters have in spades.

(I would still put soft an' fluffy Elfilin very FIRMLY in the "How DARE you...!" camp, even if there was a lighter option. The mint chinchilla hit his other side with a mack truck. He knows anger.)

FWIW, ones I was torn on their placement included Daroach, who definitely gives off protector vibes and owes Kirby his life but might be stretching his character a little to have him get that defensive toward Kirby and also Taranza, who I think IS nice and does care about Kirby but the whole "nobility" thing he's got going on tells me he's got enough of an inflated sense of importance, he might awkwardly try to get on the "I'm the only one who...!!" side, if only to make it seem like he doesn't care as much as he really does. ^_-

(On the "stand beside him" note: This list is not meant to indicate who is a "good" friend versus who is a "bad" friend or who believes in Kirby's power vs who doesn't. All of them come to rescue him. This is about the complexities of how they see and act on their friendship!)

[chubbydino]

In honor of the completion of HLS, the most hopeful and heart wrenching piarles and maxiel narratives ever, what inspired you bring phantoms and la madrague together and continue their stories?

How long did you imagine the events of HSL before you began writing it?

originally i was going to publish a different maxiel fic but the story just wasn't working and it wasn't sad enough imo. i started daydreaming about PAPM but i didn't want to be entirely in pierre's POV again and i felt like going into charles's would be cheating, since a lot of what i love about PAPM is that we're never in charles's head.

the original arc of HLS had a much darker ending, and the fic was going to be very piarles focused. more under the cut (+ spoilers)

i don't remember exactly what spurred me to bring the two stories together, but once i started thinking about it, it really worked. of course, PAPM has a chapter where max is married to a woman with a daughter, but that was the only retcon i really needed, and it wasn't the important part of that story. i didn't want to develop a whole new maxiel, and then the parallels between max and pierre started showing and i dove in.

originally, pierre was going to regain his memories like he did, but then the side effects would get so bad (essentially his brain never turned completely off so even while sleeping he would be burning his brain and exhausting himself) that eventually he would have to choose between being bedridden but with memories, or choose to forget himself every few months and start over each time. it was going to end with pierre waking up after making that decision, once again not knowing who charles was.

but every time i thought about max and what he was going through, it hurt so much more. pierre's memory loss isn't painful for him, just confusing and frustrating. max was just surrounded by pain and grief and his worldview is so fucked up, and his family is so fucked up, there was just so much to explore. so, i gravitated toward that story. max took center stage and i decided not to add more angst with pierre's original arc--it just didn't work the way i planned, and max's role took on a new life.

i said it in the discord, but max was also supposed to go through with the suicide attempt on the houseboat. i planned for him to wrap the anchor chain around his neck, slip on the deck, then get up and jump in and go to "heaven"... only for us to figure out that when he slipped on the deck, he hit his head and went into a coma and never actually jumped in the water. but one night while i was playing the story out (i "watch" the next chapter before i go to sleep lolol) i thought about mack truck and the accident took shape. that fit a lot better with the story, especially for daniel, who would never have forgiven himself if he found out max actually tried to kill himself (daniel still doesn't know max was planning to, the same way max doesn't know his family went after his money).

the museum scene with daniel was heavily inspired by What Is And What Should Never Be aka S2 Ep30 of Supernatural aka the Djinn episode, when Dean realizes his perfect world is fake and he's actually dying in real life. That episode hit me so hard and every time i watch it, it still hits. I wanted the same type of scene with Daniel finally appearing in Max's world and making him realize what was really going on.

the supernatural elements of HLS aren't particularly supernatural to me. many people i know have seen or experienced something they can't explain. there are plenty of weird happenings in my own extended family that aren't scary, just strange and maybe unsettling. kids also see the world differently and i feel like theo seeing marshmallow or the kids seeing squalo goes along with that. maybe max only sees it because of his grief, or maybe that's the part of the boys that's always with him.

overall, i wanted to end HLS with the understanding that there is no way to completely heal from what max went through. he'll always, always grieve for his babies, but he doesn't have to hold space for that grief anymore. it will always be there, but he's living life despite that. he's carefully choosing daniel, over and over, and now he knows it's okay to do that. his love for daniel doesn't have to detract from his love for his boys. i don't think he ever would have learned that without the supernatural element at play.

camp bluefin is the purest form of max's love for his daniel, not only because he's allowing children back into their lives, but because he's allowing himself to enjoy having a "family" again. <3

[sooniessoulmate]

𝙻𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚘𝚗 - 𝚌𝚑.𝟷𝟻 - 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝟶𝚝𝟾

♥️𝚌𝚑.𝟷𝟺♠️ 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝♦️𝚌𝚑.𝟷𝟼♣️

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟻 - 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚙𝚒𝚐

Y/N slowly opened her eyes, looking around and realizing she was still in Yeosang’s room. She felt an arm resting over her body, she turned her head to see who the arm belonged to. She exhaled slowly when she realized Yeosang was holding her, still asleep. She only had panties on and she was too scared to see if he was naked. She crawled out of bed, trying not to disturb Yeosang. She grabbed her clothing and ran to Wooyoung’s bedroom.

Once inside she sat on the bed, placed her head into the palm of her hand and tried to remember the events of the prior evening, to no avail. All she could remember was kissing him and laying down in his bed, everything else was blank. 

“Why do I make such bad decisions,” she asked herself. “I hope to god we didn’t have sex.”

It didn’t feel like they had sex but she did wake up, practically naked in his bed, so who knows. She quickly got dressed and went downstairs for some coffee, hoping her memory would soon come back. 

In the kitchen she was leaning on the counter as the coffee was brewing when Minghao entered. 

“God, you look like you were hit by a Mack truck,” he said. 

“Yea I feel like too,” Y/N sighed. 

“Rough night?” Hao asked 

“Kind of,” Y/N nodded. 

“I heard that you’re gonna be staying in Seonghwa’s room from now on,” Hao smirked. “You lucky little bitch.”

“Lucky my ass,” Y/N rolled her eyes. 

“I’m sure you’ll be having lots of mornings like this from now on,” Hao smirked, raising an eyebrow. 

“I’m not staying in his room, Hao,” Y/N snapped. “I can’t stand how he treats me and I don’t like the games he plays either.”

“Oh honey, he doesn’t really play games. He just calls you out on your shit,” he argued. 

“No he plays games,” she demanded. “Do you know why he had his name put on me?”

“I assumed it was because you treated him right when you spent the night in his bed,” Hao winked.

Y/N rolled her eyes, “I didn’t fuck him that night. Damn it, Hao.”

“Ok ok,” Hao said. “Then tell me what you think the reason is.”

“He was drunk and I put him to bed. He said I took care of him like a wife and one day I am going to be his and only his and that's why he did it,” she explained.

“Daayymmmnn,” Hao said. “Go off girl.”

“I don’t want Seonghwa,” Y/N growled. “When he put that on me, he ruined every chance I had with Wooyoung. He knew what it would do and he didn’t care. I can't be with a person like that. Fuck that.”

“Boy you're a little cranky this morning,” Minghao stated, grabbing a mug for coffee.

“Yea I am,” Y/N agreed. “I have a little bit of a problem.”

“And what’s that?” he asked.

“I got pretty drunk last night,” she started. “And I kind of woke up, practically naked in Yeosang’s bed.”

“Yeosang?” Hao repeated.

“Yea,” Y/N nodded. “Yeosang’s.”

“Did you do the nasty with him?” he wondered, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I can't remember and I don't know what to do.”

“Girl, that's easy, ask him,” Hao smiled.

“What if he gets mad at me for not remembering?” Y/N wondered.

“Yea well,” he shrugged. “At least you’ll know what happened.”

“True,” she nodded.

“But I can tell you one thing, if you two did bump uglies, he must have a real small dick if you can’t feel it today,” Hao laughed.

“You’re something else,” Y/N sighed, walking out of the kitchen, holding her coffee.

She walked into the living room, sitting on the couch, staring at the tv. 

“Hey roomie,” Mingi smiled, entering the room. 

Y/N whipped around to look at him, “roomie?” She asked. 

“Yea,” Mingi nodded, sitting next to her on the sofa. “Didn’t Seonghwa tell you?”

“No,” she sighed. “Seonghwa said I was staying in his bedroom.”

“I don’t know,” Mingi smiled, lightly punching Y/N’s arm. “Guess you fucked that up.”

“Thanks for the wonderful night,” a woman’s voice said from the doorway. 

Y/N and Mingi turned to see who the voice belonged to. Neither one of them recognized the woman. Seonghwa appeared behind the woman, wearing a silk robe that exposed his chiseled chest and abs. He reached around the woman drawing her close to his body, “you were a great time.”

He leaned down pushing his lips against hers while making eye contact with Y/N who was still watching from the sofa. Seonghwa pulled away, releasing the woman “maybe I’ll call you over again.” He lightly smacked her ass causing the woman to giggle before walking out of the house. Seonghwa turned and walked back up to his room without saying a word to Mingi or Y/N. 

“Is that a common thing?” Y/N asked. 

“What?” Mingi asked, confused. 

“What just happened,” she sighed trying to avoid showing any emotion. 

“I don’t know,” Mingi said, “what just happened?”

“Seonghwa with the girl,” Y/N snapped. “Is that common?”

“The girl looked a little common,” Mingi nodded. “Yea I think he could do a lot better.”

Y/N shook her head annoyed, “that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?” Mingi wondered. 

“Seonghwa gets a lot of bitches,” Hongjoong announced walking into the living room. “Jealous?”

“Absolutely not,” she denied with a high pitched voice. 

“Seems like you might be,” Hongjoong smiled sitting down on the opposite sofa. “You can’t have it both ways, bitch. Either you want him or you don’t. But you can’t be banging Yeosang if you want him or Wooyoung,” Hongjoong rolled his eyes. 

“I don’t want him and I didn’t bang Yeosang,” Y/N argued. 

“Yeosang hates all women,” Mingi interrupted. “Especially her. He wouldn’t do that.”

Hongjoong laughed, cocking his head to make eye contact with Y/N, “was it a rage fuck then?”

“You’re such a pig,” she gasped as she stood up to storm out of the room. 

“Don’t be pissed at me,” Hongjoong continued to smirk, “you’re the one who fucks anyone with a dick.”

Y/N left the room without responding. She walked upstairs, heading in the direction of Wooyoung’s bedroom when Yeosang exited his room. 

He quickly looked away after locking eyes with her. Yeosang paused for a moment, undecided on what to do before he started to re-enter his bedroom. 

“Yeosang, wait,” Y/N said, causing him to stop moving. 

“What,” he said, not turning around. 

“I think maybe we should talk,” Y/N sighed, placing her hand on his shoulder. 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he snapped, knocking her hand off with his. 

“We need to talk about what happened last night,” she insisted. 

“You mean how we made out? How you kept saying how bad you wanted me? Or how about when we stripped down and you turned and said ‘I’m just kidding, I only want Woo’ then you went to sleep.” Yeosang snarled. “So which part would you like to discuss?”

“Oh god,” Y/N gasped. “I'm so sorry…”

“Your sorrys mean absolutely nothing to me,” Yeosang snapped. “I will not be one of your toys.”

Yeosang walked back into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. He walked over to his bed, plopping down as a tear escaped his eye. 

“Knock it off, Yeosang,” he said to himself. “She’s not worth all this.”

Y/N stood in the hallway staring at Yeosang’s door for a few seconds, contemplating following him inside to talk some more but decided it was best to leave the situation alone. She walked down to Wooyoung’s bedroom, grabbed the door knob, realizing she wasn’t able to enter. 

“I’m locked out,” she sighed. “Come on.”

She turned around walking towards Seonghwa’s room when she noticed a sign on one of the last doors before reaching the end of the hallway. The writing was in crayon and looked as though a child made the sign. 

“Mingi and Y/N’s room,” the sign read. 

“I guess this is my new room,” she sighed, taking a deep breath before entering. The room looked like a teenager's room, not one of an adult man. 

“This has to be better than staying in Seonghwa’s room,” she said to herself as she looked around the room. 

♥️♠️Later that night♦️♣️

Y/N spent the day alone in Mingi’s room, watching the small television that was in the corner. She glanced out the window and saw the daylight had faded into a dark abyss. She decided she should get ready for bed. She grabbed her pajamas and towels, walking out of the room and into the bathroom. She filled the bathtub up with bubbles and hot water, crawling inside. 

She laid her head back, closing her eyes to relax, lying peacefully in and out of a conscious state. Out of nowhere she felt two hands on her shoulders, pushing her under the water. Y/N struggled to get loose to no avail. The person continued to hold her under the water, watching as she flopped around attempting to get free. The person eventually released her and she instantly sat up out of the water, gasping for air. She turned to see Yunho smiling eerily at her. 

“See I told you there’s no reason to be scared of me,” he announced. “I didn’t kill you.”

“What the hell,” Y/N gasped, grabbing her chest, continuing to breathe heavily. 

“You’re always so scared of me,” he said. “I wanted to prove to you that there’s no reason to fear me.”

“By attempting to drown me in the bathtub?” Y/N snapped. 

“I told you that I would never hurt you on purpose and this proved it,” Yunho smiled. “I could have killed you but I didn’t. That should make you feel safer around me.”

“Yunho,” Y/N took a deep breath trying to figure out the right words to say. “People don’t ‘almost’ kill people to prove that they’re not dangerous.”

“Well then how would you know for sure?” Yunho asked. 

“I’d know by the fact that you didn’t try to hurt me at all,” she argued. 

Yunho’s smile faded from his face and his eyes became dark, “you’re really starting to piss me off,” he snarled. 

“I didn’t mean to,” she scrambled for words. 

“AND I DIDN'T MEAN TO FUCKING HURT YOU,” Yunho yelled. 

“Ok ok,” Y/N nodded with panic in her voice. “You did a very good job of showing that. I’m no longer scared of you.”

“I think you’re lying,” Yunho said. 

“No I’m not, I promise,” she argued. 

“Should I get in the bathtub with you?” Yunho asked. 

“What?” she gasped. 

“Should I get in there with you?” Yunho repeated himself. “We could have some fun.”

“I’d say yes but the water is starting to get cold,” y/n said hoping he would accept the excuse. 

“Your body would feel so good ice cold,” Yunho announced, starting to take off his shirt. 

“Yea but I’ll be shivering non stop and my teeth will probably start to chatter,” she continued. 

“Ugh,” Yunho mumbled, putting his shirt back down. “If you’re gonna be ice cold you’d have to be silent and still too. This will not work.”

“We’ll figure something out for another time,” Y/N said, standing up and quickly grabbed her towel. 

Yunho smiled, “I bet death looks good on you.”

“Thank you,” she hesitated not knowing if that was actually a compliment. “I gotta get back to my room, I want to get dressed before Mingi comes in.”

“Should I come with?” Yunho wondered. 

“No, not tonight,” she smiled. “But definitely another night. Ok?”

Yunho didn’t respond, he continued to stare at Y/N as she walked out of the bathroom.

♥️𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚟 ♠️𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝♦️𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝♣️

♥️♠️𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 - 𝙾𝙿𝙴𝙽♦️♣️

@stayatinykatsy @vampiregirl215 @xuchiya