#a little like are you gonna ‘do this gay thing’ so halfheartedly???

[suiheisen]

tou-san said “boy, you’d better werk”. anyway, please watch kinou nani tabeta

#he said: is being gay a JOKE to you???? #actual japanese is: そんな中途半端な気持ちで同性愛をやっているのか #a little like are you gonna ‘do this gay thing’ so halfheartedly??? #which i think expresses how very out of touch and unfamiliar his parents are with what their son is - they still see his #orientiation as an ‘activity’/something he chooses to do #rewatching this thanks to @calcifershearts influence #kinou nani tabeta #yoshinaga fumi #autoplay warning #lgbt #*r

[lifewithdavefarts]

DaveFarts - Episode 1 “FartsApp” [Episode List] Since he’s a gassy nerd, Dave teases his friend Tim via WhatsApp by sending him a series of short videos of him farting.

FartsApp

Being gay with a fart fetish is really hard sometimes.

For me at least.

While the world is definitely getting more open-minded about homosexuality, I can’t really force it to accept this weird fetish (to be honest, all fetishes are kinda treated like taboos, regardless of the sexuality involved). I had to settle for YouTube videos or websites devoted to this whole fart-sniffing thing; not that I’m complaining: it was good to discover that so many people actually had this fetish.

Cue Dave. Well, sort of, actually. He doesn’t have a fart fetish and he’s not even gay. Dave has been my best friend since forever. Unlike me, however, he’s straight and is currently dating some (lucky) girl.

Around my age, he’s like a brother to me, and we’re actually well-known because of how much time we always spend with each other.

Dave is a great guy, a great friend, very open-minded and, dare to say it, actually quite hot.

Not surprisingly, being the brother I never had, he’s the first friend I came out to, the only one who knows about my homosexuality. Actually, it’s not like I told him… he found out on his own, in the worst possible way (for me).

During one of our nerdy game-nights, being “that one gassy friend”, Dave started to rip -as usual- tons of farts, fueled by some junk food, until he ripped one directly in my face (and boy it was amazing…). Everything went downhill from there… kinda. For some reason or another… he just accepted all at once not only my homosexuality, but also the fact that I found face-farting… hot. He just laughed about it and honestly gave me some encouraging words about my peculiar situation, proving that he’s indeed the best friend ever. Oh… and he also literally farted for me after that, in my face, letting me sniff and enjoy his amazing rips; he can also fart on command apparently: got a taste of his talent that same night.

That one, surreal night.

I still can’t believe it happened.

Felt like a confused dream. Like one of those nights where you drink too much so you don’t clearly remember what happened. But it was all true.

Dave, my best friend, was perfectly fine with me, my fetish, and all this weird stuff.

Yes: I know how lucky I am.

It’s been 4 months since he found out.

And, believe it or not, I’m getting face-farted so often that I’m almost forgetting how beautiful it feels.

Seriously: Dave simply accepted it like I’m living in someone’s crazy fetish dream and, when we’re alone, he just casually farts in my face (without me asking for it). Not always, but very often.

Surprisingly enough, despite the fact that my nose spends a lot of time brushing against his denim-covered butt, our friendship didn’t change at all though: we still hang out with the rest of our friends and generally spend a lot of time together.

Sometimes I’m so in disbelief about how easy-going he’s been with me, that I randomly ask him “You sure you’re OK with… this?” (I say, gesturing all of me), but he just smiles or rolls his eyes annoyed, tired of hearing the same question over and over again. What can I say? He’s perfectly comfortable with his own sexuality I guess, so he doesn’t have any problem with my fetish.

Sometimes though -sorry I say this- I kinda wish he did…

No, I’m definitely not complaining. That’s the best possible scenario for me, but sometimes he can get a bit too… inopportune. Dave is not really a prankster, but he loves teasing his friends, just for fun, including me.

I was in the middle of an important exam once, one of these pop-quiz thingies that make zero sense, and I felt my phone vibrate. I checked my FB private messages and all I saw was this YouTube link sent by Dave. Since I’m a fool apparently, I clicked on it, and one of those popular YouTube fart videos popped up and played, one with really loud farts. The first fart actually echoed in the room and other students glared at me: never felt so embarrassed (not including the night Dave found out about my fetish).

“Dude! Stop sending me this stuff!” I texted him. “I’m in the middle of an exam here!”

I scolded him for this, but the truth is that I couldn’t ask for a friend more open-minded than him.

The fact that he teases him with fart videos like he teases our heterosexual friends with those “shock” porn pics made me feel more… accepted.

But still… I was in the middle of an important exam so he had to stop.

And he obviously didn’t.

He sent me like 10 other links, just to annoy the sh%t out of me.

I mocked him by texting something like “Those videos are quite hard to find. Guess you’re gay too then!” but he would reply with “I had a great teacher!” and send me one of my awkward photos from Facebook.

Other times, since our friendship didn’t change a bit, he even made random references to my homosexuality or even my fart fetish when messaging me to make plans for the night (especially during the weekend). This mostly happens on WhatsApp:

Dave: “Dude, you have to come with us. Stop being a whiny little bi*ch and get up from that couch!”

Tim: “Sorry, man. I don’t think I’ll be joining you tonight…”

Dave: “You know what? If you don’t come with us… you’re gay!”

Dave: “Sorry, I mean… if you don’t come with us, you’re a fuc*ing heterosexual!

Dave: "U ride pussy, don’t you? Fuc*ing straight people!”

He was obviously being sarcastic, but I just loved how he adapted his… uhm… “humor” to my situation.

One time, however, things got a bit… hotter for me…

Dave: “Dude, come over. We have a lot to study…”

Tim: “Sorry, really can’t today. Aren’t you with Dana right now anyway?”

Dave: “I need somebody to focus with, not focus on. You know me and Dana always end up in bed after like 20 minutes.”

Dave: “It’s awesome but this stuff ain’t gonna study itself…”

Yep. Dave and his girlfriend Dana apparently had a very active sex life.

Glad he was getting laid. And Dana was pretty cool to be honest.

Tim: “Dave, sorry. Maybe tomorrow, k?”

Dave: “Dude! Come on! I’m farting like crazy today!”

Did… did he just try to “bribe” me using his farting abilities?

Dave: “Seriously. I just ripped one that was like 10 seconds long. What a waste of farts!”

Tim: “Dave… are you crazy?”

Took a couple of minutes to reply to that one, and then I got two messages at once.

Dave: “Oh yessss, Tim, crazy for youuuuuu!” he wrote, with a heart emoticon at the end (again, he’s a sassy bi*ch as usual).

I then saw that WhatsApp was loading a video sent by him, an actual video, not a link.

It was Dave, a smirk drawn on his face while staring at the camera. He was wearing a simple black shirt. The view soon moved and I saw his slightly sagging-butt in jeans sitting on a wooden chair, and then heard this big fart echoing in his living room (he was alone), rumbling loudly and hard on the wooden surface. He even turned the camera to his face while he was forcing the “classic”-sounding fart out, making funny facial expressions; indeed, the fart lasted almost 10 seconds, and I obviously loved that: biggest farts I’ve ever heard from him in awhile! It was like watching those funny fartvines on… well… Vine, but having my best friend as the funny/hot farter this time.

Dave: “Hope that convinced you…” he then texted.

I was kinda… “offended” by that last message.

I mean, yeah, I seriously wanted to be there, but I always love spending time with Dave, farts or not (that’s why we’ve been friends since… forever).

Tim: “Are you seriously using farts to buy my friendship? It’s not like I don’t want to study with you. I just can’t today!”

Was that too harsh? Should I have added a smiley face at the end?

Only thing I was sure of, is that I never thought that a sentence like that would even make sense someday.

And I was still bewildered by how Dave was so comfortable with the fact that I loved farts.

Tim: “You don’t need farts to convince me, Dave. More like… you’re making me suffer!” I joked, finally breaking the ice myself with a reference to my embarrassing fetish, proving that I indeed wanted to be there with him, enjoying those farts.

Another couple of minutes passed.

Was he making another…?

Dave: “I know you’re suffering, Tim. Don’t worry. That’s why I’m sending you this.”

Oh boy, another video. Should I play it? Was he aware that I was getting a boner from all of this?

I literally pitched a tent in my pants.

There… it’s Dave again, this time sitting on the couch. The video started with his face winking at the camera with a sly smile; the camera then moved between his legs and slowly panned towards his butt in loose jeans (he probably put his legs on the small table in front of his couch, to make his butt more visible). Now I had a rather unique (and hot -for me) view of both his butt (and part of his crotch) in jeans and his face. He grinned wildly and the fart began, ripped right in front of the phone. The sound and the views were perfect; Dave moved the camera towards his butt as the fart kept going strong, sounding like a deep trumpet; I could see the detailed blue fabric of his jeans as the funny sounds continued. What a lucky phone!

It lasted around 8 seconds and it was simply the hotness.

The video ended with Dave laughing at the camera and all went pitch black.

Tim: “You’re insane, Dave!” I joked again, enjoying how crazy he was about this. And for me I guess.

But I had to tell him.

Tim: “Dave, you do know that all of this gave me a… well…”

But as I was halfheartedly writing the second part of the message, Dave wrote more stuff.

Dave: “Then go beat your meat! I can’t do everything for you, Tim.”

Dave: “And please don’t act like this is some kind of big deal…

Dave: "Wow, Tim got a boner! How impressive!”

Dave: “Let’s all bow to Tim, the mighty guy whose penis can turn bigger!”

Dave: “Behold, the Great Tim! The guy who once had a boner and had to tell everyone!”

Further proof that Dave was being the best friend ever.

He was clearly being sarcastic; he was joking. That was his way of telling me “Nah bro, it’s all good”. And I was kinda surprised that he was so… chill about this stuff. I literally had a boner because of him and he just… didn’t care. As I said, he’s very open minded and perfectly comfortable with his own sexuality, so he didn’t have the irrational fear of “turning gay” when doing this stuff with and for me. I also appreciated that he trusted me with those funny, but otherwise embarrassing videos.

After one or two minutes, I’ve received one big audio file and I just knew what I was going to get when I clicked the triangular-shaped button to play them.

I heard Dave singing my name like he was some kind of serial killer trying to find me.

Dave: “Tim… come here…”

I then heard a series of muffled noises, as if the camera was being put under something, and it was clear what: I in fact then heard the loud, audio-glitching sound of one big fart that lasted around four seconds.

Dave: “He’s waiting for you…” he sung again in that creepy tone of voice.

Another fart, just as big as the first one.

He was on fire that day!

Now I was both laughing like an idiot and having the biggest boner.

Tim: “Dude, you’re on fire! But… to be honest, that was kinda gay…” I chuckled.

Dave: “Says the guy who gets a boner when he hears a fart. You fuc*ing hypocrite.”

He then sent yet another audio file, with him singing that meme-song “I’m gay, gay, gay, I love long big c*cks”, but slightly changing the lyrics. He even put a karaoke version of it on his computer while recording the audio file.

Dave: “You are gay, gay gay, you love long big farts. ‘cuz you’re supah-super gay, and you love big…”

Fittingly enough, a huge fart from my best friend took over the last part of the song. Loud as usual, sounding like a deep chainsaw. I could just imagine how beautiful that was. But the best part was probably the fact that he was definitely farting for me. I know, not your usual “hot sexy” scenario… more like a “sweet” one, in a very twisted way of course.

I wasn’t obviously offended by that “gay song”, since I knew that Dave was just being silly as usual and his mocking words were definitely not mean-spirited.

Tim: “Aren’t you supposed to be studying right now?” I asked.

Dave: “I don’t know, aren’t you supposed to be here right now?”

Tim: “Dude, seriously. Thank you! But I’m serious… I really can’t today.”

Dave: “Alright… alright… cya tonight faggot…” he wrote, with a heart-shaped emoticon at the end.

I just rolled my eyes and chuckled a bit, then drove my attention to my own books.

This was going to be a long afternoon. But after only one minute of silence, my phone vibrated wildly: it was Dave and he was calling me. Very unusual in that moment.

“Uhm… Dave? Hello?” I picked up.

I was greeted by a series of “Dude, sorry!” and I was really confused.

“Dave… what?”

It was just Dave being adorkable I guess.

“Dude, sorry about that 'faggot'… that was bit too much, sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

I laughed in disbelief. “Bro, it’s OK. I’m not offended. I know you didn’t want to insult me or anything…”

“No, Tim. That one word is not a joke and I shouldn’t have used it, sorry.”

I was just… wow. Dave went from “dominant friendly farter” to “adorable/awkward confused puppy” in mere seconds. Further proof that I was the luckiest guy alive (fetish or not): Dave cared so much for me that he even apologized for the “f-word”, which admittedly is a very bad word for a guy like me. But this time it was coming from Dave, my best friend, a guy who cares so much about me that he would even “censor” his language just to avoid unfortunate implications.

Ironically enough, the roles were switched, and he was the one saying a rapid-fire series of “sorry!” this time.

“Dave, quit with the apologizing. You’re the best.” I chuckled. “We’re bros, that’s what we do: we insult each other!”

“Alright… you sure? Not going to use that word ever again though.”

“Dave… it’s OK. You’re the best.”

“OK… OK. See you tonight. Take care.”

And he hang up.

He just wanted to make sure that he didn’t accidentally offend me by calling me a “fag”.

I would have been, if it wasn’t coming from Dave.

But then again, he also said that he was going to kick in the face whoever dared to insult me.

And he said that before he found out the truth about me: he’s always been quite protective.

“Oh come on!” I shouted, almost annoyed, merely five minutes later, when I heard the phone vibrate one more time.

It was Dave. Again.

He sent another video.

I tried to scoff at it but I was obviously loving all of this instead.

He was lying on the couch, the camera focusing on his butt in jeans. I could see both his face and butt, at the same time. It was like he filmed the video imagining my POV when he farted in my face, and I absolutely enjoyed that.

“Alright, Tim… Sorry for calling you a faggot.” he spoke in a “comically” serious voice. He truly was “sorry”, but it was clear that he was trying not to laugh. “I’m really, really sorry, believe me.”

Keeping a straight face, he ripped an incredibly loud, deep fart at the camera. He didn’t bat an eye, blink or smile. He eventually lost it towards the end of that 6-seconds long blast. He chuckled a bit and then turned “serious” again.

“That was a sad fart… we’re both sorry.”

He then closed his eyes and made a funny face, signing in relief as he ripped another long fart, the lucky camera slowly panning towards the seams and textures of the blue denim covering his powerful sagging butt. It lasted almost 10 seconds: truly a fart master. And those weren’t even on command!

“Oh my…” I whispered, staring in awe at the amazing video.

“This one was on the house…” he chuckled, right before turning the phone to his butt one last time and ripping a short series of toots, grinning wildly, clearly forcing those smaller farts out just for me. And that was it.

My boner was definitely wet now as bits of that well-known white substance poured from the tip of of my “standing” dick, slightly dampening my boxers and pants. It was like a volcano going to explode. A volcano that, just like me, couldn’t take it anymore. I rushed to the bathroom and furiously beat my meat, almost strangling my rock-hard penis with a firm grip. I didn’t last much: I literally peed sperm, thinking of Dave’s farts. The best part is that I didn’t need to imagine anything: it was all real. I laughed in relief just as I felt my penis deflating like a balloon, after it vomited its white substance. It felt good, not “masturbation good”, like “life is good”. And it was.

My best friend, Dave, was this fantastic guy who, in his own, twisted way, was taking care of me, accepting me, making me comfortable with my fart fetish. A gassy, open-minded, mildly disgusting “bro” who only wanted to preserve our friendship.

And I couldn’t be happier.

End of Episode 1

#fart story #eproctophilia #fartkink #davefarts2 #gayfart #malefarts

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Let's Call It Funny

Prompt: Hi! If you know about those gen z peter parker posts, could your write something based on that? With Steve Getting It (tm) because fatalistic nihilism in humor tended to show up during the world wars and we’re seeing a reflection of that now? Sorry- I just think it’d make great options for steve and peter bonding, and dad!tony but actual emotions (gasp!) You can totally ignore this if you want!

Don't ever apologize for giving me such a great ask

Read on Ao3 Part 2

Warnings: uhhh gen z humor

Pairings: none! all found family in this bitch

Word Count: 2529

Here’s the thing about humor. It’s not necessarily that one generation is any funnier than another, it’s just that high school kids are perpetually the funniest people alive. Something about being in a pressure cooker of an environment with a bunch of other people whose bodies are changing in new unpredictable ways whilst having very little say in how their lives go creates humor. Gasp of shock, right?

So basically what Peter’s trying to say is that he’s fucking hilarious.

Come on, not only does he have the default high schooler stuff, he’s also gay, which gives him an instant bonus. He’s trans, which opens up a whole new subset of humor for him to explore. He’s neurodivergent as fuck, and we all know that makes people funny as hell. And if that weren’t enough, he’s severely traumatized and he’s Spider-Man.

Peter Parker is funny as hell.

What is truly devastating—and really, it’s their loss—is that so few people seem to appreciate it.

Ned gets it. Ned’s not someone Peter would expect to not get it, just because hey, it’s Ned. They’ve met each other in the hallways and been like ‘hey! You’re still alive! Congrats on having a body!’ Only for the other one to go ‘hey! You’re alive too! I wish I had an intangible form!’

Because bodies are stupid and evolution really fucked us over but at least we’re not horses.

A solid 50% of their interactions are just quoting John Mulaney and Bo Burnham bits back and forth at each other. Peter’s never gonna forget the day they both had detention and had to watch that stupid Cap PSA—it’s propaganda, you Nazi fuckwits—and something reminded them of the ‘horse loose in a hospital’ bit and they just did it. Full out. Stood up and did the actions and everything. The rest of the room was either trying to do it with them—and failing, because they didn’t have nearly enough practice—or looking so confused. The security guard—Paul, he’s great—just looked at them blearily after they finished and went:

“I mean, you kids are right, but you’re not supposed to talk in detention.”

Well, excuse them for trying to make it more entertaining for everyone.

MJ gets it. If Peter’s being honest, he learned most of his humor from her. She is the master and it is an honor to study in her wake. He’s definitely hijacked the asking whether or not anything’s actually meaningful existentialism jokes and they’ve wormed their way into his day-to-day repertoire.

“Why are you late, Mr. Parker?”

“Time is a social construct, Mrs. B, none of us are ever late or early except in the subjective spacetime paths. The limits of our sensory perception make it so we can’t tell if anything is real, let alone whether or not they conform to some arbitrary definition of ‘time.’”

“…just sit down, Peter.”

See? It works.

Aunt May gets…worried.

Sure, they’ve actually talked about when Peter needs help and wants to reach out and when he’s just making jokes off the cuff because hey, humor’s a great coping mechanism or it’s just a joke and not that serious. Peter loves his Aunt May, so so so much, and the last thing he wants to do is really worry her. And she’s gotten pretty good at figuring out when he’s just joking and when he’s spiraling.

Sometimes, though…

“Peter,” Aunt May calls from the kitchen, “did you remember to stop by the store on your way home?”

Peter freezes halfway through the door.

“Peter?”

He swallows. “…no.”

“Why not?”

“Because I am too stressed and consumed by the swirling pit of blackness deep in my soul to remember my head is connected to my body, let alone remember to go to the store.”

Silence.

“…Aunt May?”

“Do you want to drop off your stuff and then go to the store?”

“…yeah, please.”

“Love you, Pete.”

“Love you!”

“Try to remember that you’ve got arms so you can pick stuff up.”

“Got it!”

See? It’s fine.

The Avengers don’t get it. Like, at all.

Natasha and Clint like, sorta get it? They make the same jokes all the time when they think Peter can’t hear them, which—come on, you guys are super spies, surely you know people are gonna hear you when they’re gonna hear you. Natasha will make a crack about something, Clint will laugh and shove her shoulder. It’s their dynamic, we get it. But when Peter does it…

“Hey, Baby Spider?”

Peter sticks his head up from the ceiling. “Yeah?”

“Where’re you crawling off to?”

“I’m gonna go hide in the garage.”

Natasha blinks up at him. “Why?”

“Because if I get crushed by the airlock doors then I won’t have to do my paper tomorrow.”

Silence. Natasha’s mask is too good for Peter to actually see what’s going on with her, let alone from this angle, but silence isn’t good.

“Nat—oof!”

Something blurs out of the vent nearby and tackles him down onto the couch.

“Clint!”

“Nope,” Clint mutters, wrapping Peter up in a hug as Natasha comes to join them. “You’re staying with us now, Pete.”

“Guys, I’m fine.”

“Peter,” Natasha says softly, “don’t joke about that, you’ll make us worry.”

“I don’t wanna do that,” Peter mumbles, “but it’s fine.”

“Coping mechanism, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s got too many brain cells to do that,” Clint says, ruffling Peter’s hair.

“Stark has a lot of brain cells, you see what good that does him?”

“Hmm. Guess you’re gonna have to stay awhile, Pete.”

There are worse fates. Definitely.

Thor just kind of gets confused by it. He acts like Peter isn’t going to be absolutely fine because there’s no need to do anything like that. No, Peter, you don’t have to put the bleach in first into your cereal, there’s plenty of milk left over. No, Peter, you don’t have to throw yourself off the roof because your laptop is freezing, Stark has so many just lying around. No, Peter, you don’t have to pack a rucksack and run away to the Alps and live like a recluse, come here and get a hug.

Peter suspects Thor’s playing dumb on purpose. The man is smart as hell, there’s no way all of this is flying over his head. And honestly, it warms his heart a little bit when he sees Thor’s sincere, concerned look when he thinks Peter’s not looking.

Banner and Rhodey just kinda shake their heads and move on. They’re used to it. They live and work with some of the most dramatic fucking people in the goddamn universe, they’re used to a little bit of extra humor. Occasionally one of them will give him a look that says he’s pushing his luck, but that’s not often. Less often now ‘cause he knows what he can get away with. He’s also seen them hiding smiles behind their hands or poorly disguised coughs. They’re not as slick as they think they are.

Tony.

Tony is the fucking worst.

Peter can’t get away with so much as sighing too hard before Iron Dad™ is swooping in all soft words and concerned touches. Jesus. You’d think he’d get it, he uses humor as a coping mechanism too, goddamnit, why is he so worried about Peter?

Okay, fine, he knows why.

MJ’s over at the Tower, having another one of her ‘sketch people in crisis’ appointments with Natasha. Peter is coming off of a 32-hour caffeine rush and is violently wishing for death. Tony is in the kitchen doing…something.

“Hey, do you think bleach would make a good smoothie?”

Tony wheels around to see MJ pulling a glass out of the cupboard.

“Kid—“

“Sounds like a filling breakfast,” Peter groans, “can you make me one too?”

“…I’m legitimately concerned,” comes Tony’s mutter.

MJ ignores him. “Who’s the bitch on your forehead?”

Peter rubs absentmindedly at the massive knot on his head, courtesy of a wall that rudely decided to move at the last second while Peter was attempting to walk through a doorway. “He’s called DJ Braindeath and he’s my only friend in the world.”

“Peter—“

“Oh did you meet him at the furry convention?"

“Technically it’d be a buggie convention.”

“What the hell are you two talking about?”

“The pantry doesn’t have good coffee, I’m going to Starbucks.” MJ grabs her bag. “You want anything?”

“A will to live?”

“Peter, what the fuck—“

“Oof, I’ve only got like…20 bucks.”

Peter lets his head drop back to the counter. “Then just leave me here to die.”

“Can I have champagne at your funeral?”

“I’ll be dead, I won’t fucking care.”

“God, I wish that were me.”

Then MJ’s gone and Peter gets treated to a 20-minute conversation with a very concerned Tony Stark that he doesn’t remember most of because hey caffeine crashes aren’t fun.

He definitely does it on purpose sometimes just to wind Tony up. Like there’s this one incident with an interview he does as Spider-Man and he gets asked what he thinks about Tony Stark’s newest intern, Peter Parker.

“That boy’s an embarrassment, just…complete failure. Can’t speak without stuttering through every other word and self-esteem issues all over the place. Also looks like he got dressed in the dark.”

The reporter had awkwardly moved on to another question. The interview aired later that day while Peter was at the Tower. Tony sat next to him on the couch about halfway through.

“You look good, Pete.”

Peter had mumbled halfheartedly, only to hear the reporter ask the same question.

“See, that’s the problem with having a secret identity, you don’t…” Tony trailed off as he heard the answer.

Peter snorted as Spider-Man finished talking. “Say that to my face, you bitch, get a real job. At least I don’t look like someone vomited silly string all over my spandex.”

“Are you okay?”

See? Fun.

The only one he’s made a conscious effort to not be this funny around is Steve.

Because, okay, here’s the thing. Steve’s disappointed look has no effect on him anymore. He’s immune, motherfuckers, he’s had detention too many times for it to still work. Here’s the other thing: Steve doesn’t actually use that tone of voice that often. It’s this meticulously crafted image he plays up in interviews because it catches all the bad guys so off guard when Captain America is suddenly swearing a blue streak at them and telling them to go fuck themselves in, honestly, quite creative ways. The sincere Steve Rogers disappointment and concern still very much works. Also doesn’t help that Steve does caring so fucking well, like…who gave him the right to say a few things and hold Peter like he’s something precious and do the quick one-two punch of saying a super sincere compliment and following it up with ‘I love you.’ Who did that? It’s rude. Stop it.

And yeah, Steve’s the resident Mom at the Ready. It’s a risk to even sit on your bed looking sad ‘cause here he comes, wearing something snuggly and saying ‘hey’ in that stupid, stupid compassionate voice. So Peter knows he’s just gonna end up crying from too much soft if Steve actually gets concerned. Which won’t be fair because he’s gonna try and explain that he’s fine and it’s just his sense of humor while crying. Yeah, like that’s gonna be believable.

So he’s trying not to but damnit it’s hard.

Then he walks into the kitchen one day to see Steve struggling with the toaster.

It’s one of Tony’s new prototypes—which means that anyone struggling with it is so fair—and from the looks of it, it’s managed to not only burn the bread to a crisp, but also mangle the slices beyond recognizable shape.

Peter’s not paying that much attention. He’s on his phone, heading towards his spot in the corner with the beanbag chairs and definitely doesn’t recognize Steve as he goes.

He only plops down and hears someone declare, in a completely deadpan voice: “There is no point to existing at all.”

“Oh, mood.”

He doesn’t think much of it. He doesn’t even know who said that, that’s how hyper-focused he is right now. He hears the others come in and feels Clint plonk down next to him.

“Hey, Pete.”

“Sah, dude.”

“Just vibing. Did I do it right?”

“Yeah, man you’re going great.”

“You teach Thor ‘yeet’ yet?”

“We’re getting there.”

“Steve,” he hears Tony call from the kitchen, “what the fuck did you do?”

“Language.”

“Don’t fucking talk to me about language when you’re making toast that looks like a goddamn welder’s table, what is that?”

“Your prototype’s work, I imagine.”

“How did you even—“

Clint chuckles next to him as the two of them start fondly bickering. Peter’s too busy speedrunning the five stages of grief in his head.

Did…did Steve say the thing about there being no point to existence at all?

No…no way.

He must be imagining things.

Then, of course, there’s a chime on his phone.

Ned: Did u do the bio hw?

There was bio homework?

Ned: yeah, due at noon

“I now know why God abandoned this timeline and when will death come to take me?”

The room goes silent.

Shit.

“Peter,” Clint says, “it’s gonna be fine, you can do bio homework in your sleep—“

“Are you okay?” Ah, that’s Thor.

“Kid—“

And Nat, and Tony’s probably rushing over here as he speaks.

Then there’s another voice.

“We can only pray the reaper arrives early for his appointment with us, kid.”

Peter’s head snaps up.

Steve.

Steve fucking Rogers raises a coffee cup at him in salute and takes a sip. He makes a face.

“…that was definitely salt,” he mutters, before shrugging and downing the whole thing.

…what?

Peter’s still staring at him until he catches his gaze and winks.

Oh, fuck yes.

“Steven Grant Rogers,” Tony says, hands on his hips, “explain.”

Steve just gives him a look. “I grew up in the Great Depression, Tony, and I was in the army. You don’t think I have a fatalistic sense of humor?”

“Plus the fact that most of my generation is resorting to types of humor found when death and stress are so ever-present that you have to joke about it says something,” Peter adds, “doesn’t it?”

Steve raises his cup again. “See? He gets it.”

And just like that, the bond between Peter Parker and Steve Rogers was written, formed, and sealed in salt and existentialist depression.

“There’s two of you,” Tony mumbles, “oh my god, there’s two of you.”

“Oh, you just wait ’til Buck and Sam get back.”

Peter can’t fucking wait.

#marvel #mcu #avengers #spider man #peter parker #fic #dragonbabbles

[janetbrown711]

🥺 Writing ask abt eah with apple and darling "You're not a machine or- or some thing, you're a person, and I'm sorry anyone ever made you feel otherwise"

Apple was getting ready to go home for a party- a birthday party to be more specific. Her birthday party if you really wanted to go into detail. 

It was May, the beginning of summer. Not that summer truly meant much in Ever After High- it was a year-round school after all, but it did mean a little bit of time would be allotted for students to spend some time at home and relax. 

However, Apple was not relaxed- not in the slightest. It was only a little while ago Darling had broken her curse and they realized they were each other’s destined true loves. It had only been a few weeks since they started dating officially and now Apple was going to have to go home and see her mother for the first time outside of video calls since the Dragon Games. Not only that- Her mother was planning on hosting a giant birthday gala for her- and she let her invite her entire class as well as half of Ever After just for fun. 

Sure, this meant she was able to continue to hang out with her friends and be herself for at least the night, which she’d enjoy, but it also meant things could easily slip- especially if someone thought they could get something out of outing her to her mother. Darling tried to assure her no one would be that cruel, but Apple feared otherwise. Goodness knows Ever After High has no shortage of mischievous students. Kitty, Duchess, and Faybelle to name a few.

And goodness knows her mother wasn’t exactly the understanding type either. 

At least her friends would be there... and Darling. Darling usually made everything feel a lot better. Though... perhaps tonight that wouldn’t be best. She had to act like nothing happened- that she wasn’t gay. Oh god... this was going to be a long break. 

“Got everything packed?” Raven asked, a trunk of clothes levitating in dark purple magic next to her. Apple sighed and rubbed her forehead. 

“Yep,” She faked energy and enthusiasm. “All ready to go to my mom’s.” Raven cringed.

“I know it’s gonna suck, but hey, we’ll at least be here for the night. That’s something, right?” Raven placed a hand on her shoulder. 

“It... is,” Apple said. “But you know how it is. She’s all ‘follow your destiny- be popular- be pretty or else’ and blah.”

“I kinda know the feeling, yeah...” Raven sighed. “But hey, technically you do have destiny on your side. True loves kiss and all that.” 

“True,” Apple chuckled a little, going to the window and whistling for birds, who quickly went to her trunk of clothes and lifting it for her. “But...”

“I know, not that easy,” Raven admitted. “Not everyone is blessed with parents who were already destined to be evil so they really don’t care if your bi or not.” 

Apple snorted. “Yeah.” 

“You got this. And remember- if anything should happen, Briar, Darling, and I are totally willing to take you in for a spell,” Raven reassured. This did very little to comfort Apple, though she appreciated the effort. 

“Thanks,” She decided to say, though the thought that she could possibly be kicked out of her own home scared her more than when Raven decided not to sign the Storybook of Legends- which was why she was determined to keep her secret, no matter what. 

“Well- my dad’s waiting for me. I’ll see you at the party,” Raven said, checking her mirror phone. 

“I’ll walk with you,” Apple said. Raven nodded, and together they made their way down the many, many flights of stairs. The girls didn’t say much, as Raven was busy texting, while Apple was doing her best to practice her happy face before they finally reached the bottom, where Darling and Maddie were waiting for them. 

“Apple! Raven! There you two are,” Maddie beamed at them, and Raven chuckled. 

“Hey Apple,” Darling smiled giving her girlfriend a peck on the cheek. Apple smiled. 

“Hey,” She said, before scanning around. 

“Relax, the limo is outside, we’ve one last moment to ourselves,” Darling said, holding her hands. 

“We’re literally right here,” Raven rolled her eyes playfully. 

“Oh hush,” Apple rolled her eyes. 

Maddie gasped. “You kiss Darling with that mouth?” she giggled. 

“Whatever. I’ll see you two at the party,” Apple snickered, and Raven and Maddie took their cue and headed out. 

“You ready?” Darling asked, pulling Apple away from the stairs. 

“Not in the slightest,” She admitted with a pathetic laugh. 

“Hey, it’ll be okay. I’ll be right beside you the whole night if needed,” Darling said, tucking a loose strand of Apple’s hair behind her ear. 

“That’s what I’m afraid of... I want to be with you so bad, but if she were to find out...” Apple didn’t need to finish the thought. She sighed.

“I know,” Darling sighed. “Just- know no matter what I’m on your side, and what we have is very, very real, and she can’t take it away from us, okay?” Darling asked, Apple nodded, leaning and the princesses shared a quick but passionate kiss.  

“I know. I’ll see you tonight,” She said, giving her a hug, which Darling quickly returned. 

“Should anything happen, just call for me and I’ll be there in a heartbeat,” She promised. 

“My knight in shining armor,” Apple smiled at her. 

“You know it,” Darling winked and teased. Apple gave her another quick hug before forcing herself to let go and go to her ride. 

Not to Apple’s surprise in the slightest, her mother wasn’t there to pick her up, just the usual dwarf or two. The birds dropped off her luggage in the trunk of the limo and Apple took her seat. Once they started going, she immediately slumped and tried not to think as her mirror phone blew up with texts from Briar and her other friends in support and details about how great this party was going to be. 

Eventually, after what felt like an eternity of being driven, she finally arrived at her castle, and walked right inside, the dwarves taking care of her luggage for her. 

Not to her surprise once again, her mother wasn’t there to greet her. Instead, there was a table with some flowers and a single slice of apple pie (long cold by now) waiting for her, with a note that read:

“So happy you’re here my little apple dumpling. So sorry I couldn’t be there to greet you, but I’m very busy planning tonight’s party. 

Hugs and Kisses,

-Mummy”

Darling hated when her mother babied her, but she wasn’t ready to face her quite yet, so she took her mother’s absence as a mercy more than the blatant neglect it was. Apple took the pie, tossed it in the nearest garbage, before stopping by the kitchen, grabbing an apple, and heading off to her room to pass the hours away until the party. 

No place like home alright. 

Her phone was still blowing up from texts from Briar, but Apple figured she’d just wait until Briar passed out to try and answer them all- goodness knows that girl sends 50 texts that could easily have just been four, though she said it “preserved the tone that way”. She loved Briar, but she could be a lot at times. 

Apple sighed as she entered her room and flopped onto her overly fluffy bed and pondered if her mom kept any poisoned apples around so she could just skip this whole mess and wake up whenever Darling would be able to get past her mother’s guards and they could just run away into the sunset. Or if she could jump out her window and Darling could be there to catch her...

A girl could dream. 

Eventually, she just decided to scroll social media to pass the time, making sure to like any and posts wishing her a happy birthday, though deciding not to comment. Sure it was highly unusual, but she simply did not have the energy today. 

She was probably on her mirror phone for hours, when there was a knock at her door. Apple took in a deep breath, putting on her happy face, before opening and finding out her mother was on the other side. 

“Apple darling, how was the ride home?” She asked, not waiting for Apple to invite her in. 

“It was great mom,” She said, closing the door behind her. 

“Good, good,” Her mother nodded to herself, before turning and looking her up and down. “Are you wearing that to the party?” 

“No, Lizzie Hearts actually designed me this dress I’ve been dying to wear-”

“Oh, that’s good. Can’t have you turning another year older in that old thing,” She said, gesturing to her dress. Apple only nodded. 

“You excited for tonight? I’ve spent all week planning for you,” Snow grinned, going to her tablet and tapping a few things.

“Yep! Totally hexcited,” Apple gave a thumbs up. 

“You going to start on your hair soon?” Snow asked, not looking up. 

“Yep yep,” It was getting harder for her to be enthusiastic. 

“Good,” Snow nodded, turning off the device and looking back to Apple, thinking a moment before smiling. 

“You’re growing up so fast my little apple, darling,” She said. “Time really flies when you’re away at that school.” 

“I guess, yeah. Though- it’s almost hard to tell with all those tests,” Apple joked. Snow laughed. 

“Professor Rumplestilskin keeps you busy?” The queen said. 

“He’s just like you described,” Apple confirmed. Snow chuckled. 

“Older I bet, though. Goodness knows that old miser has probably only gotten worse with age, unlike some people,” She grinned. Apple nodded once more, not really knowing how to respond. 

Snow White paused. “Something on your mind, my little dumpling?”

“Nope! I’m absolutely perfect,” Apple internally panicked, quickly putting on a cheesy smile.

“Good, but do know if anything’s wrong, don’t be afraid to tell me, alright? One of the dwarves can handle it,” Snow patted her head. 

“I know, mom,” Apple really hated it when she babied her. 

“Right,” The queen nodded to herself. “Well then- I’ll let you get ready now. I really do hope you’ll like this party- All of Ever After is coming in your honor,” She said, beginning to exit. 

“Yipee,” Apple said halfheartedly. 

“Hate to go, but a few things need to be finalized. Hugs and kisses darling, see you later” Her mother blew a kiss as she headed out. 

Once her mother was out of earshot, Apple flopped onto her bed, grabbed a pillow, smushed it against her face, and groaned. 

This was going to be a long, long night. 

.o0o.

Despite everything, Darling was glad to be home. Sure, her parents didn’t exactly know about the fact she was the white knight and she had to constantly make sure Daring didn’t accidentally spill the beans, but other than that her family was fun to be around- which was more than she could say for other families in Ever After. After all, her parents knew she was gay practically from the moment she was born- as a girl “prince charming” practically set it up from the beginning. 

What they didn’t know was that she was dating Apple, meaning that Daring had failed and wasn’t Apple’s destined Prince Charming, but that she was instead. That was a secret she didn’t have to worry about Daring sharing because despite him realizing his destiny was likely with Rosabella, he was still deeply embarrassed by the whole thing. 

Still, it was an unspoken agreement between the Charming siblings not to speak a word of what happened at the dragon games- not until Apple was ready to tell her mother anyway. 

But despite all this, she was still happy to be home, as it meant she could return to her familiar backyard and practice sword fighting with her brothers in their favorite hang-out spot, where their father used to make them practice “saving damsels in distress”. It was a nice little spot that the siblings spent years building and crafting to perfection, with chairs, hammocks, some of Dexter’s favorite books, swords and dummies for practice, and a few mirrors to suit Daring’s vanity, as well as an elaborate bell system that reached back to the castle in case their parents needed them but didn’t want to go searching. 

However, the one downside of the nook was that there was terrible cell reception. 

“Darling, you have got to relax and stop stressing about Apple, the party isn’t for several hours, take a mirror and nap on the hammock. I know it works like a charm for me,” said Daring, admiring himself as he advised his baby sister. Darling rolled her eyes.  

“Honestly, I’m surprised you aren’t panicking as much as I am. I swear you and Rosabella have been texting constantly ever since the whole ‘winter in summer’ fiasco,” Darling pointed out, deciding to somewhat take his advice and sit in the hammock. 

“I took his phone while we were in the car, it was driving me insane,” Dexter patted his pocket. Darling snorted. 

“Don’t encourage him, it was rude,” Daring shot his brother a glare.  

“Alright, calm down you two,” Darling rolled her eyes. “though- if you want we can settle this the old-fashioned way.”

“Uh-uh. No sword fighting- not today anyway. Mom said we have to stay ‘clean and pristine’ for the party tonight,” Dexter said. 

“Lame,” Darling groaned, refreshing her mirror phone once more, but not getting any better results than the fifty times she tried before. 

“Darling, you seriously need to relax. Apple’s dealt with her mother her whole life, she’ll be okay for a few days,” Dexter said. 

“Easy for you to say,” Darling rolled her eyes, trying again but still getting nothing. 

“Yeah bro, don’t underestimate this whole thing. You know how the Queen can be,” Daring pointed out. 

“Okay, you got me,” Dexter huffed, putting a bookmark in and closing his book. “I’m just trying to get you to relax.”

“You know what’d relax me? A good sword fight,” Darling’s eyes shone mischievously. 

“I’m not gonna fight you- I always lose and always end up bleeding somehow,” Dexter shook his head. “Plus- mom said no fighting.”

“Daring?” She turned to her eldest brother. 

“No can do Darling. Gotta stay handsome for the party, keeps away the suspicion,” He pulled out his mirror once more, checking out his own reflection again. 

“You guys are so lame,” Darling groaned. 

“What time even is the party, anyway?” Dexter asked. 

“I think the palace doors open at 5, but that’s if you’re insanely early and-”

“-And everyone knows it’s best to be fashionably late as opposed to early,” Daring interrupted her. 

“I’m gonna go get ready,” Darling decided, swiftly getting off the hammock. 

“Isn’t it a little early to be getting ready? It’s only 3,” Dexter pointed out. 

“Mom’s probably going to make me scrub the dirt from my nails like- 50 times before the party so we’ll see how long this takes,” She sighed. “The plights of being a girl.”

“You say that like Daring isn’t right there,” Dexter snarked. 

“He makes a good point, Darling. I should be getting ready too,” He said, putting away his mirror. 

“Dex, you coming then?” Darling asked. Dexter sighed, putting his book away. 

“I guess so,” He said, and the Charming Siblings left their nook to head back into the castle. 

After that it was hours of priming and preening, Darling barely had the time to check her phone as the handmaids chatted her ears off about gossip she couldn’t have cared less about, which was made worse when her mother came in and started talking about gossip amongst the royals about who was dating who and fashion trends or whatever. Darling was hardly paying attention, having never cared about these types of things.

 It wasn’t like she disliked getting dressed up and doing her hair and painting her nails and such, it was just- when the maids and her mother did it, they hardly ever asked her what she wanted and Darling could never really get a word in on such matters. Hell- the most her mother had probably ever listened to her was when she came out, and when she begged her to let her go to Ever After High and stop being homeschooled. Other than that, she was pretty sure nothing got through, as her mom had a clear preference for Dex, and her dad had a preference for Daring. 

Whatever, she had her own way to cope. If she could just get her phone...

“Aaaand, done. Oh now don’t you just look gorgeous,” One of the maids said, placing the final touch on her dress. Darling snapped back in the moment, taking a second to admire the dress they put her in, nodding briefly in approval, quickly walking over to check her phone. 

No texts from Apple. 

She was probably just getting ready too, Darling had nothing to worry about. 

“So...? What do you think?” Her mother asked. 

“It’s a lovely dress, thanks mom,” Darling said, not really looking at her, sending Apple a quick text. 

“You teens and your mirror phones,” Mrs. Charming rolled her eyes. “I’m going to go looking for your brothers. Don’t mess up that hair.”

“Got it,” Darling still didn’t look up. Her mother sighed before leaving. Darling then thanked the handmaids for their service, then went down to the foyer to wait for everyone. 

Apple still hadn’t replied to any of her messages. Darling shouldn’t have been surprised- it was her party and knowing the queen, she was probably keeping her busy or having her change a million times. She should just... attempt to relax. They’d be at the party soon enough, and Darling could give Apple her gift and keep her safe and happy and loved. 

The gift Darling had gotten her was separate from the “family present” her parents had made for Apple. It was a necklace and a pretty simple one at that. It was gold, and had the engraving of an apple on the front, but on the back, there was a little rainbow. Darling hoped it was subtle enough and that no one would ask any questions, but she really wanted it to be special to her. 

Darling had fallen for many girls throughout the years, but it was easy to say she cared about Apple the most.

Eventually, the rest of her family came down the stairs and it was time to go. 

“You ready?” Dexter asked. Darling shook her head. 

“I’m a Charming, I shouldn’t be this nervous,” She hugged her arms. 

“It’ll be okay. You’re a lot tougher than you think- Apple too,” Dexter reassured. That did help a little. 

“Thanks, Dex,” She said. 

“No problem. Let’s just go and try to have a good time,” Dexter said, clearly trying to hype himself up too. 

“That can’t be too hard, right?” Darling joked a little, stepping into the carriage. 

“I hope not,” Dexter said, following suit, and the Charming Family was off. 

.o0o. 

Apparently, it could be that hard. 

Once they arrived, Darling was greeted at the door by some gruff-looking dwarves who grabbed the family’s present out of Dexter’s hands (Darling kept her gift in her purse) and they were formally announced to the party room before being asked to quickly move aside for other guests. Say what you would about Snow White, but she sure knew how to get things done quickly and efficiently. Darling then went to go and try and greet Apple, but more dwarves said she couldn’t greet the princess until later. She briefly made eye contact with her girlfriend, who sent her a silent distress call she wished she could answer, but alas, she had to wait and try to party with everyone else. 

Of course, it was nice to mingle with her fellow classmates, but they literally just got off of campus just a few hours ago, so outside of complementing everyone’s outfits, dancing a bit, and taking a few photos, there wasn’t much they could do. Piper and Briar did their best to keep things lively, but something about Apple being forced to sit on a throne the whole time away from everyone else really sucked the energy out of the kids, who wanted nothing more than to mingle with her. 

However, after an hour or so, Snow White allowed for the festivities to “officially begin” and Apple was allowed down, though she was quickly overwhelmed by hugs from her friends, which made Darling chuckle as she waited patiently for her turn. 

“You looked like you were going to die of misery if you had to sit there a moment longer,” Darling said as she hugged her. 

“You have no idea. My mother says adding cushions to a throne looks unprofessional so that’s just solid metal baby,” Apple joked tiredly. 

“You’re doing great, Apple. You got this,” Darling whispered. Apple hugged her tighter. 

“I know she means well, but sometimes I seriously want to strangle her,” Apple joked. 

“I know the feeling,” Darling sympathized as she let go so no one would be suspicious. Apple then continued hugging and catching up with other guests, while Darling waited steadily for her to finish. Apple finished, and swiftly- though subtly- returned to her girlfriend’s side. 

“So... wanna dance?” Apple offered. 

“Oh you know I’m a dreadful dancer, that’s not fair,” Darling shook her head as Apple grabbed her hand and dragged her to the dance floor. 

“The way I remember you totally beat Chase in that dance-off,” Apple pointed out. 

“Everyone knows Chase is just about the worst dancer ever after, and we won only because he slipped and fell off the board,” Darling rolled her eyes, but it was too late, as Apple had already gotten her near the center and began to dance. 

“C’mon, it’s fun,” Apple said, her eyes shining under the party lights. Darling sighed in defeat and awkwardly began to dance with her. Apple chuckled a little bit, but reassured her that she was doing great, and soon enough, she loosened up enough to the point that she was actually having a good time. Though of course, this became easier when she saw Apple was having a good time. Perhaps she had been worrying for nothing. Perhaps everything was going to be alright- they’d find ways to reach each other and take care and know they were loved and everything was okay and was going to be okay. 

After an hour or so, once again, the dancing was called to a brief pause, as Apple was dragged off to open her presents while the rest of the party continued, though Snow White did allow Briar, Raven, and Darling to join her. She went to her seat and began unwrapping box after box of presents, each more elaborate and fancy than the last, and Snow White hovered nearby making comments about them, thanking the families who gave them.  Books, jewelry, dresses, tea sets, and all sorts of things were unwrapped one by one, only to be quickly taken away by dwarves, and Darling felt a twinge of guilt for getting her something so minimalistic and small. 

However, after the last one was taken away, Darling took the small box out of her purse and handed it to Apple. 

“A... personal gift? That’s highly unusual,” Snow White commented, and Darling internally panicked. 

“I think it’s a sweet signifier of a good friendship,” Briar commented nonchalantly, though a bit on the nose. Apple smiled at Darling sweetly before opening it and gasping. 

“Darling, it’s beautiful,” She said, admiring the engraving. 

“Rather small isn’t it?” Snow raised an eyebrow. 

“I paid for it myself,” Darling said, trying her best not to give the queen a dirty look. Apple then flipping it over and touched the engraving of the rainbow with her fingers slowly. 

“Oh Darling, it’s absolutely beautiful,” She said softly. 

“A... rainbow?” Snow raised an eyebrow, and Apple quickly turned it over. 

“What’s suspicious about a rainbow? Rainbows are pretty,” Raven tried to defend it, and Darling realized she probably just made the biggest mistake of her life. 

“Rainbows can mean a great number of things,” The queen said, looking at Darling. 

“Rainbows are also just... pretty,” Raven continued to try, but she wasn’t as good as Briar. 

Snow White thought to herself a moment, before ordering for the festivities to continue and for the cakes to be brought out and to begin serving it to the guests. However, after saying that, she turned back to Apple. 

“Apple, darling? A word,” She ordered, walking out of the ballroom. 

“Oh god- Apple, I’m so, so, so sorry-” 

“No, Darling. Don’t be,” Apple stood. “I... I think I can handle this.”

Raven and Briar exchanged a look. 

“Are you sure, Apple?” Raven asked. 

“I... I think so. Briar, keep the guests entertained. I don’t want anyone to stop partying for my sake, okay?” She asked. 

“If that’s what you want,” She nodded, before hugging her. “Just be safe.”

“I will,” Apple hugged her quickly. 

“What about us?” Raven asked. 

“If your mother so much as raises a finger-” Darling started, but Apple stopped her. 

“I... I think I can handle this. She’s my mother, right? I’ve dealt with her before. I-i have facts and destiny on my side,” Apple said, trying to hide her nervousness. 

“Okay... if you want to handle this alone, we’ll let you. But- if you need help, but say the word, alright? Raven and I can be there in a flash,” Darling said. Apple smiled a little, before frowning. 

“I have to go... I’m sorry- she’ll get mad,” Apple turned away. 

“Good luck,” Raven said. 

Good luck. Right. 

Apple took a deep breath before exiting out into the hallway. 

.o0o. 

She wouldn’t admit it, but her heart was pounding in her chest. She was terrified to confront her mother, but she had years of pretending everything was fine under her belt in preparation for this very moment. She entered the hallway to find her mother pacing ever so anxiously in her long and elegant white dress with her usual red cape. However, once Apple entered the scene, her mother’s pacing stopped. 

“Why did that girl give you a present?” Her mother asked. 

“Because I’m important to her and she wanted a way to show that to me,” Apple replied matter-of-factly. 

“Important to her how?” Snow raised an eyebrow. Apple got a bad feeling in her stomach. She didn’t want to say- she didn’t have to-

But well...

“Important to her how, Apple?” The queen demanded. 

“W-well... you know how I got poisoned at the Dragon Games?” Apple said. 

“By the Raven girl, I presume?” Snow raised an eyebrow. 

“Mostly her mom, but kinda- that’s not important. What’s important is that it was the apple- like from our story,” She explained. “You know- the ‘true love’s kiss will break the spell’ apple?” 

“Apple, I know my own story,” She gave her a look. Apple tried her best not to crack under it. 

“Well, I was poisoned and in a coma, and Daring tried to kiss me and- well... it didn’t... work,” Apple said. 

“What? What do you mean Daring didn’t work? He’s supposed to be your destined prince, how can this be?” Snow demanded. 

“I-i don’t know- well... I do kinda know...” Apple whispered. 

“I demand an explanation,” Snow ordered. 

“Well- after Daring’s kiss failed everyone was kinda just gonna give up, but Darling was there, and she had this crazy idea, a-and... wellllll...” Apple didn’t finish. 

Snow White paused. 

“You mean to tell me that... princess broke your little curse?” She asked, seething with hatred. 

“Y-yes,” Apple nodded. 

The queen paused again. 

“And what happened after?” She said coldly. 

“W-well for awhile nobody would tell me what happened out of fear of how I’d react, until Darling eventually told be during the whole ‘snow in summer’ fiasco and well- then we... started... dating..?” Apple said that last part quieter than the rest. 

“This is absolutely ridiculous- do you seriously expect me to believe all this?” Snow crossed her arms. Apple blinked. 

“Mom- it’s the truth,” She stated. Her mother laughed. 

“That’s impossible. The Storybook of Legends would never say such a thing,” She said. “The girl must’ve simply done CPR, gotten the piece dislodged from your throat or something.”

“Mom, that’s not what happened- you know how the curse works, ‘true loves kiss’. Darling Charming is my true love,” Apple argued, getting angry now. 

“Don’t you dare address your queen with that tone,” Snow snapped. “The amount of disrespect you’ve had today is outrageous. First the complaining, then the lack of focus, then the lies? I am your mother, but I am also your queen, and I expect the utmost respect, is that understood?”

“Mom, for the last time, I’m not lying! I’m in love and am dating Darling Charming. She broke the curse and I’m the happiest I’ve ever been in my entire life,” Apple asserted, tears now threatening to spill. 

“What absolute ludicrous. I will not take such blasphemy. Such a relationship is impossible. Go to your room until you’re ready to tell me the truth,” She commanded. 

“N-... No.” Apple put her foot down. 

The queen paused. 

“No...?” She asked, her eye twitching. 

“No. I’ve already told you the truth, so I’m not going anywhere,” Apple glared at her. 

“No daughter of mine would speak to me with such blatant disrespect,” Snow White was aghast. 

“Mom, whether or not you like it, me and Darling are destined for each other, and there is nothing you can do to change that. Even Principal Grimm agrees with me- Principal Grimm!” Apple exclaimed. 

“Do not raise your voice at me, young lady.” The queen threatened. 

“Then listen, for goodness sake,” Apple threw her hands in the air. “I’ve told you nothing but the truth, and you refuse to believe me! Why? For some- stupid outdated idea?” 

“I’ve had enough of this attitude- go to your room. Now.” Snow ordered again. 

Apple didn’t move. 

“I won’t ask again, Apple. Go. To. Your. Room,” She stepped forward, causing Apple to take a step back. 

“G-go ask Principal Grimm if you don’t believe me,” Apple said, trying her best not to crack. Snow slowly walked towards her daughter, until Apple was backed against a wall. The queen grabbed her face. 

“There are hundreds of street orphans far more worthy of your destiny than you are. Do not forget this.” She quickly let go, before walking away, while Apple stood there, dumbstruck. 

Eventually, her knees gave in, and she collapsed into sobs, and Darling burst through the door, and Darling immediately wrapped her in a tight embrace.

“It’s okay Apple, it’s alright, I’m right here,” Darling did her best to soothe. 

“She doesn’t believe me- sh-she said- sh-she s-sa-said-” 

“It’s okay, Apple. I know... she’s wrong. She doesn’t believe you,” Darling tried with all of her might to squeeze the sadness out of her, but nothing was working. 

“Sh-she said hundreds of o-orphans are f-far more worthy,” Apple hiccupped, and Darling’s heart broke. 

“Apple, she had no right to say that. You aren’t some... machine, you’re a human person. She had no right to ever treat you or make you feel that way,” Darling soothed, but Apple continued to cry, which she couldn’t blame her for. 

This sucked. 

“I love you Apple, you know that, right?” She asked. Apple nodded her head. 

Good. At least she knew that...

“If you need somewhere to stay, I’m sure my parents or Briar’s or even Raven’s wouldn’t mind, okay?” Darling said. Apple nodded again. Darling kissed the top of her head. 

This really, really sucked. 

“It’s gonna be okay, Apple...” She practically whispered. 

“Y-you promise?” Apple looked up at her weakly. Darling wiped some of the tears from her eyes. 

“I promise... maybe not today, or even tomorrow, but I promise, someday it’s gonna be okay, alright?” She asked softly. Apple nodded slowly. 

“Okay...” Apple rested her head on Darling’s shoulder. 

“Do you wanna go anywhere?” Darling asked. Apple shook her head. 

“I wanna stay here... with you,” She said hoarsely. Darling nodded her head. 

“I can do that,” She said, stroking her face softly, wiping more tears away. 

And she meant it. She’d stay right there until Apple felt better, no matter how long it took. Apple knew it, Darling knew it. And despite everything, that did make Apple feel a little bit better. 

She was loved. Perhaps not by her mother, but if she didn’t love her, that was her mistake. 

Her mother was wrong.

 What she and Darling had was love, and nothing could change that. 

#my fics #ever after high #dappling #darling charming #apple white #eah #snow white #snow white eah #long post #tw homophobia #tw abuse #the charming siblings #dexter charming #daring charming #tw abusive parents #homophobia

[handcoversheart-76]

Peter starts wearing these sweaters- big and soft and warm. The sleeves hang a little bit past his wrists and the material has all of these little fuzzy lint balls, so when he steps into the sunlight that's streaming from the window he looks like he's glowing. Sometimes he'll wear one that's off-white and he'll look like the swirl of Sam's french vanilla latte with a sprinkle of cinnamon that he gets in an early morning (just a coffee with a little milk for Peter though), and sometimes he'll wear one that's dark green and rich, making the depth in his brown eyes widen and the intensity in his face deepen when he's lost in thought.

Sam spends a lot of time looking at Peter now. More than he did before. And he looked at him a lot before. He's not even ashamed to admit it. It's one of his official pastimes now- work on American Vandal with Peter, talk to Gabi about Peter, and look at Peter while he wears his sweaters.

He spends a lot of time wondering about Peter too.

He wonders whether Peter's sweaters are actually as soft as the seem in the glow of the morning. He wonders if the inside is scratchy against the skin- or maybe it's fuzzy like the Sherpa pullovers Gabi and her friends wear. He wonders about the warmth collected there, about the way Peter will stand when he's deep in thought, his arms crossed, hands tucked under his own armpits, chewing at his bottom lip. He wonders whether the sweater smells like him at the end of the day- like old books stored in a library and eraser shavings and vanilla from the servings of his mom's tres leches that he brought in to split with Sam at lunch.

"-television light will make the film seem crisp, but we don't want the subjects to look like they're undergoing a surgery," Peter is saying, flipping through ring light options. A bulb busted on their old one- they've been placing bets on it to see how long it'd last. Sam said at least a week. Peter said three days. Giving over ten bucks for losing was worth it when Peter did that knowing little tsk at him that makes Sam's stomach flutter. "Maybe we can try something softer to change things up. Make things seem more inviting."

Sam absently wonders if Peter's philosophy works with clothing too- the softer the better.

It certainly serves to make things more inviting.

"-or, I don't know, harsh is cool, I mean, we want to be taken seriously, right?"

Sam has just enough mind to make a noise of agreement. Only half of him is paying attention. the other half is wondering whether Peter's neck is warm under the collar of his coffee colored sweater. maybe if Sam tucked his fingers under there, pressed against the warm skin, nudged against the beating pulse that's hidden away-

"-maybe I'll buy an elephant lamp and put it right in the middle of the room by the subject's feet so that when we film there's an elephant silhouette going across their faces."

Sam blinks. "What?" He croaks.

Peter glares halfheartedly. "I knew you weren't listening. Should I go light shopping by myself? Cause i wouldn't mind cashing this in as an spam favor."

Sam flushes, shaking his head, knocking his brain back on track. "I- no, I'm listening. Save your spam for this weekend or something cause I want to clock mine in for the week of winter break."

"The week of winter break?" Peter frowns. "What type of favor are you gonna ask for?"

Sam's mouth moves faster than his brain does, and he goes, "I might be cold."

"Y- you might be cold?"

"Yes." Sam says blankly. He wants to pass away. "Cold. That is what I will be on the week of winter break. Maybe. Possibly."

"Are you planning to be cold or is this just-" Peter cuts himself off, interrupting his own line of thinking the way that he does sometimes and Sam, not for the first time, wants to kiss his nose. "How am I supposed to help you with this?"

"Sweaters." And that's the only thing that comes out of his stupid, gay mouth.

Oh god.

Peter's nose wrinkles. "You mean my sweaters?"

Sam just nods miserably. He's so far down. He might as well keep digging.

"You..." Peter falters, squints, tilts his head like a Labrador puppy. "You want to cash in your favor by asking my for my sweaters when you're cold?"

"You always look really warm?" Sam says, voice rising and making it a question. It's the only excuse he can think of, sue him.

Peter is quiet for a moment. Thinking. Sam is also thinking. He's thinking about how quickly he could get out of this situation if he stood up, went over to the window, unlocked it and just pitched himself out face first. It would be fine he decides. He'd plead a bout of insanity and then Peter will write off this whole sweater spiel as a figment of Sam's mental break and everything will be like it never happened.

Besides, a broken face is better than a bout of embarrassment. A broken face would only last for, what, a year and some change tops? Embarrassment lasts for a lifetime.

Sam is still mulling over his window plan when peter peels off his sweater- which, oh my god malfunction, malfunction, there is a brief flash of skin right in front of Sam, oh my god- and chucks it at Sam. Sam fumbles to catch it, blinking with huge eyes.

Peter looks a little bit red as he adjusts his tee. "There- uh- so you don't have to waste your favor on being cold."

"oh." Sam doesn't dare look down at the sweater in his hands. "Um. Thank you."

Peter nods jerkily, eyes drifting to the side. "Don't mention it. Anyway, so- the light-"

And Peter turns away, determinedly moving right along while Sam is still stuck where he is, stuck in that moment. He turns his gaze down at the sweater in his hands, fingers clenching around the heavy wool. Peter is still talking and Sam is not paying attention, now overcome with the need to pull the sweater over his head as quickly as possible, like he'd be able to feel Peter still in it if he tried. When he does, he finds that the inside is soft like he expected, and the warmth of it melts into Sam’s bones- but the whole of it all was realizing yes, Peter is sugar sweet like homemade cakes and dusty from the morning show storage room and Sam thinks he's drunk off of this- really, it's almost too much to have.

Peter turns back around and for a brief moment Sam thinks he's been caught. Not just not paying attention, but also actively pining like a true weirdo of a best friend- smelling the sweater is going to be the final straw, he's sure of it, this is just getting pathetic now-

But Peter just pauses, eyes wide, a strange look on his face. "Oh." he says, like that is supposed to mean something to Sam.

"Pete?" He questions carefully. "You okay? You look like you're about to pass out."

"Yes!" Peter says, and it comes out strangled. "No! I mean- I mean, yes, I'm okay and no I will not pass out. Maybe. Um- you- you're- uh- are you warm now?"

Sam nods. "Yes. Very. This is- it's a nice sweater."

"You should keep it." Peter blurts. "It looks better on you."

Sam highly doubts that, but Peter has never seen himself walk into the morning show film room with that one black braided turtleneck, cheeks colored and half of his face tucked away from the cold. Peter has never seen himself take a break from researching to stretch up to the sky so far that the hem creeps up to show his stomach. Peter doesn't know that Sam thinks about slipping his cold hands under there, brushing along the plains of warm skin that he can only steal glances of.

"I don't think-" Sam goes to say but Peter is shaking his head, throat working.

"No really, and uh, borrow my sweaters anytime you need to. Any of them. All of them." He finishes, looking half mortified and half like he was impulsed to say this- like if he didn't get it out it would be rattling around in his head for days.

"When I'm cold?" Sam clarifies.

"When you're cold."

"Well, I should say, I get cold a lot." Sam says slowly. "Like, very often. Annoying often."

"It wouldn't be annoying." Peter reassures. "And I've got lots of sweaters- I can't wear them all at once. We can- we can share them."

Sam nearly passes out right then and there. The thought of tugging at Peter's sleeve in the middle of working and having him peel it off right then and there to give to him is- it's very-

well, Gabi would say that's very boyfriend-ish Sam in that tone she takes sometimes. Her, i-cant-believe-youre-sitting-here-pining-at-me-instead-of-going-and-talking-to-him, tone.

"That sounds good." Sam manages. And he manages to not sound too excited or lovesick or absolutely mental- just a normal, regular, casual tone for all the normal, regular, casual things that are happening. It's all good.

"Good." Peter says, and he also sounds normal and regular and casual. His arms are bare because Sam is wearing his sweater and Sam might be a little bit high on the feeling but it's okay, this can just be another normal, regular causal thing that they do. Exchanging clothes just like actual boyfriends do- literally no big deal.

And yeah, maybe he might call Gabi later to scream but that's normal and regular and casual too. It is all good. Seriously.

For now, he just slides off the desk and joins Peter at the computer, letting their shoulders brush and then just- not moving away. Peter kind of sways a little like he's dizzy but nudges back and presses there.

"So, this elephant light-" Sam says, glowingly happy and brilliantly lucky. He's got Peter and a new sweater and a crush that makes his head all scrambled and his chest a mess. "That doesn't have to just be a joke-"

"Sam, I'm going to kill you, honestly."

~ gifted to @grasslandgirl and @aberfaeth bc this fandom is how you met and that is the most adorable thing ever

#sam and peter favors #hc that spam favors are and when it's on an interchaging schedule so if sam asks for one then peter gets the next #JUST BEST FRIEND THINGS. #american vandal #my fics

[maroonmorons]

Eddie falls asleep on the couch while chilling with buck at Eddie's place he wakes to buck gently shaking him to go to bed. Buck went ahead and cleaned while letting him rest and Eddie's like wow. They're not even together yet but that's real sweet buck didn't have to do that. Idk maybe he like sleepily mumbles God I could kiss you while going to his room still out of it as buck's like what and thinks he didn't mean it only he did and he's not ashamed to admit it buck's the best thing to happen

haven’t felt this way in a while [buck/eddie, G, 1.5k]

Buck waves a hand in front of Eddie’s face halfheartedly.

“Eds,” he whispers.

There’s no response.

Or, there could be a response.

Buck can’t quite tell if Eddie is snoring very quietly or ifhe’s developing some sort of cold.

Hopefully it’s the former.

Buck half turns on the sofa, careful to distribute hisweight slowly.

“I think he’s out cold, Superman.”

Christopher giggles, quick to muffle the sound in his hands.

“Looks like it’s just you and me,” Buck continues in atheatrical whisper.

He rubs his hands together and grins at his favorite childin the world.

“Whatever shall we do with ourselves?”

Christopher takes the question very seriously, his eyebrowsinching closer together as he thinks it over.

“We could each eat an extra cookie!”

It’s Buck’s turn to smother his laughter at the suggestion.

Leave it to Christopher to suggest extra snacks while hisfather is asleep.

“I’ll make a deal with you,” Buck leans even closer towhisper. ��If we clean up our dishes – I’ll split an extra cookie with you.”

“Okay,” Christopher agrees immediately, as if it’s anamazing offer.

Maybe to an amazing kid it is.

They make quick work of the dishes with Buck rinsing them inthe sink and Chris loading them into the washer. Then, they carefully split achocolate chip cookie.

Eddie sleeps through the entire ordeal.

“Okay, Little Man,” Buck says, bending over to get onChristopher’s level. “You go brush your teeth and pick out some pajamas. I’llbe in to help you in a minute, okay?”

Christopher nods.

“What about bed time?” he checks.

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna let your dad sleep on the couchall night. Lazy Bones can at least come say goodnight to you.”

Christopher giggles again, quickly checking to make sure hehadn’t woken up Eddie.

As Buck puts soap in the dishwasher and starts it up he listensto the careful way Christopher’s crutches tap down the hallway.

He can’t help but smile to himself. His chest issuspiciously close to bursting with affection.

More than anything – he wants this every single night.

He wants to help Chris ‘sneak’ around when Eddie dozes off.He wants to tell Chris stories and clean up more than one set of dishes.

He wants in ways that he can’t fully verbalize. Not even tohimself.

To keep the thoughts at bay, Buck grabs the dishrag and runssome warm water over it.

He wipes down all the counters and rinses out the rag,putting more hot water on it before tip toeing into the living room.

The coffee table gets the same treatment as the counters andthen he heads back to the kitchen. He rinses the rag again, rings it out andsprays the residue from the day down the drain.

Next, he empties the trash and ties the bag tight. He setsit by the door to take on his way out.

The light in the bathroom is out already as he makes his waydown the hall so he peeks into Christopher’s room, unsurprised to see the boyalready sitting on his bed.

He’s picked out tonight’s book and it sends a bittersweetpang through Buck to see it.

He’ll stay for story time but it still aches a bit, to be avisitor.

Again, he shoves the thoughts aside.

He helps Christopher into his pajamas and puts him in bed.Christopher’s dirty clothes go in his hamper shaped like a shark and his crutchesget leaned carefully between his bed and his nightstand so he can reach them inthe morning.

“Alright, I’m gonna go get your dad,” Buck tells him.

He can’t help bending down to press a kiss to the top ofChristopher’s head.

“Okay, Bucky.”

The urge to wake Eddie with a kiss to the top of his headclaws its way up Buck’s chest until it settles at the base of his throat with apowerful grip.

If only he wasn’t too terrified to try and take that leap.

Sure, he and Eddie had both been single for some time nowbut that didn’t mean anything.

You couldn’t just say to someone ‘hey you should date myfriend, he’s gay/bi/pan/whatever’ not without being an asshole at least.

The point is – just because people could work in theory didn’tmean it would work.

Buck knows more than most people how much of a tangled messlife can become.

So instead, Buck walks around the couch and tosses himselfdown on it hard enough to bounce.

Eddie snorts himself awake, jerking upright and blinkingrapidly.

“Bu-what?”

“You fell asleep,” Buck informs him. “Christopher is alreadyin bed and waiting very patiently for story time.”

Eddie rubs at his right eye before looking to the coffee table.His eyebrows move up in obvious surprise.

“You cleaned up?”

“Of course. Chris and I did it together. The dishwasher isrunning and I’ll take the trash on my way out.”

“You didn’t have to do that, man.”

“Well, you were hardly going to do it while you slept,” Buckteases. “Come on, story time.”

He pushes off the couch, corralling his thoughts once again.

Buck plants himself in the chair that he can hardly fit into wait for Eddie. He shares another smile with Christopher as Eddie’sfootsteps pad down the hall.

“Who took my chair?” Eddie questions.

“You were too slow.”

Christopher giggles and Eddie rolls his eyes.

He crouches down next to the foot of the bed, picking up thebook Christopher had selected.

“Ready, mijo?”

“Mmhm,” Christopher murmurs before yawning.

Buck leans his elbow on the armrest of the chair that’scurrently cutting into his left hip. He cups his chin in his hand and sighs quietlyto himself.

As Eddie and Buck make their way out of Christopher’s room,it’s time to be quiet for another Diaz boy and Buck doesn’t mind in the least.

He doesn’t miss his huge empty loft. He doesn’t miss thefact that he can leave on whatever lights he wants, or play his music loudly,or leave dirty dishes wherever.

This is a home. Eddie and Chris are his home. Atleast, he wants them to be.

“Sorry for falling asleep on you,” Eddie says.

“Nah, you’re good.”

Buck wants to drag his feet. He wants to procrastinateputting on his shoes and gathering his keys.

“Why don’t you just crash here? We have the space.”

It’s enough to stall Buck for a second.

“No,” he decides out loud. “I should get going.”

Eddie doesn’t protest.

He obviously can’t hear Buck’s thoughts.

Ask me to stay – just one more time. Ask me like you meanit and I’ll stay. I’ll stay forever.

“Alright,” Eddie agrees. He sighs. “Thanks again forcleaning up. I could honestly kiss you.”

Buck snorts.

“Sounds like you need to get back to sleep.”

“I feel better than I did,” Eddie has to pause to yawn,which does a lot to dismantle his argument, “probably couldn’t make it throughanother movie though.”

“Well, you should get some rest. You must be pretty tired tothink about kissing me for doing some dishes.”

Buck should just leave it alone. But it’s like a scab – he can’thelp but pick at it.

“I don’t have to be tired to think about kissing you.”

What.

“Um…is this some housewife joke I’m missing?”

Eddie scratches at his jaw.

“I guess it could be? Like – you make my life better. Thehouse feels fuller, brighter when you’re here. I think you’re actually thesecond best thing to ever happen to me. Does that make you a housewife?”

Buck feels like Eddie’s just presented him with a thirtyfive page dissertation on the difference between miosis and mitosis. He can’tthink of a single word to say.

“Eddie…”

Yup. His name is a good start.

“I…what?” Buck finally manages.

“Sorry,” Eddie says after a stilted beat of silence. “Doesthat sound like I’m coming onto you? I’m definitely not coming onto you. Unless…youwant me to?”

Buck blinks at him dumbly.

Has he been asleep on the couch this whole time? Is this hisdream?

“Buck?”

Say something.

“Did I break you?” Eddie questions.

Dear God. Say something. Anything.

“You…like guys?” Buck asks.

Three whole words. And they make sense in context.Amazing.

Eddie lifts and drops a shoulder quickly.

“I like you.”

“Like… Like like me like me?”

He’s reasonably sure that still makes sense, but it also feelslike his brain is currently rolling down a hill.

But Eddie nods. His cheeks are stained pink.

Holy. Shit.

“How long?”

“Why?” Eddie questions, rubbing at the back of his neck andlooking away.

“Because I need to know how stupid we both are. For science.”

“Both of us?”

Eddie takes half a step forward then, his hand droppingaway.

His heart is firmly in his throat but Buck nods.

“Months. It’s been months,” Eddie admits in a rush.

Buck can’t stop himself – he takes two steps forward. There’sbarely anything left between them. Just a few inches of air that feels like it’sfull of static energy.

“We’re both idiots,” he announces happily.

Eddie takes Buck’s face in both hands and kisses himsoundly.

“Absolute idiots,” Buck breathes when they part.

“Shut up,” Eddie laughs.

He doesn’t give Buck a choice though. Instead, he kisses himagain.

#buddie #buck x eddie #prompt #justsmilestuffhappens #buddiefic #I removed my dialogue tabs so hopefully that helps mobile formatting #fluff #just...so much fluff #bye

[poiwritesnstuff]

The One Where Richie Patronizes A Bar

Inspired by this post by @coldplaysongsonrepeat.

Richie “Trashmouth” Tozier was finding it harder and harder to frequent bars since he started being actually recognized. Comedy clubs were places of work, and it was generally considered bad practice to vomit where he ate. Clubs were an overpriced headache full of drugs he was too old to keep up with. Sports bars were usually full of the kinds of guys who would want to get chummy and laugh about stupid broads and masturbation jokes, which was masturbatory in and of itself. It was like... mastur-ception. Incept-urbation.

Maybe there was a reason he didn’t write his own material.

So it was with this reasoning that Richie ended up in a dive bar almost forty minutes from his house, nursing a glass of something alcoholic in the corner of a building that a clown car would call cramped. The lighting was dim with burnt out lightbulbs, the bar made of actual wood, and the stool just unbalanced enough for him to nearly fall off twice. In a word, perfection.

It was so dingy and forgotten that Richie hadn’t noticed the faded pride stickers and graffiti until the bartender struck up a conversation with the charming opener of “Should have figured a guy with a name like Trashmouth Tozier would be gay.”

Richie blinked up at her. “Yeah? What tipped you off, my incredible sense of style or the giant bear railing me as we speak?”

“Are you serious? Right in front of my salad?” She asked, her eyes wide with mock shock as she lit a cigarette. Richie laughed

“I think I might love you,” Richie said. “Forget dick, I’m all about you now, baby.”

“Too bad, since mine is bigger than yours,” she said. 

She offered him the cigarette. Richie didn’t normally smoke, but there was something comforting about the act of smoking with this stranger. They continued on like this, throwing nonsense back and forth until Richie was stumbling out of the bar and into an uber she had called for him at 2AM.

Richie woke up every day for a week and when his sexuality wasn’t plastered on the front page of TMZ, he went back. The same redhead was tending bar and smiled when he came in.

“The prodigal son returns! I thought you might have died last week.”

“That was just the warm up, baby. You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

--

Four months later, Richie had been coming to this place at least once a week and nobody bothered him except to wrinkle their nose at his shirt. He couldn’t tell if he liked it or hated it, but he couldn’t stay away, so he continued sitting in his corner where nobody could bother him.

On one such night. when he was full of whiskey and contemplation and the clock struck 1, he looked up at his redheaded bartender. “Bess.”

“You know I hate that nickname,” she said lightly, collecting her tip from the last customer to depart.

“Besserly!” he insisted.

“Stop calling me th--” She turned around and saw him sitting with his cheek on the cool surface of the bar. “Richard, that’s disgusting, get your head off the bar.”

“It’s fine.”

Liz filled a glass with water and put it in front of him, and Richie lifted his head just enough to slurp water from the glass.

“Richie, I’m gonna close up early so I have to kick you out soon, okay?”

“No!” He jolted up, panicked. Liz paused in her movements to look at him. “Not just-- I have to say a thing.”

“Okay,” Liz said cautiously. She stopped wiping the bar and watched Richie carefully. “What is it?”

“Okay. I’m... It’s a thing. I just am saying the thing. To you. Because you’re my bartender. Isn’t it funny how people will just say so much shit to their bartenders? Like, I know it’s easy to get a bartender confused with a therapist, you give both of them money to give you shit that makes you feel better and maybe makes you cry a lot-- oh, hey, you’re smiling! I knew I was funny, deep down.”

“You were gonna tell me something, Richie,” Liz prompted, idly wiping down the counter around him. “You don’t have to deflect if you don’t want to say it.”

“No, I just need to do it, you know? I just need to... get it out. Admit it. And then the world will keep turning and I can move on with my life. So, Besserly. Good old Queen Bess. Queen Lizzy-Lizabeth. Lizzy.” He drew in a deep breath, took her hand, and looked her right in the eyes. “Liz, I... I am... Uh. I’m, uh... The-- The thing is that I have to, uh, say that I’m... I’m just really.... I’m...”

His heart clenched so hard that his eyes watered. He wondered if he might be dying. Could be preferable to whatever was about to happen.

“Liz, I’m...” He let go of her hand and dropped his head to the bar, his voice muffled by the bar. “A dick. I’m a dick. Just figured I’d say it. First step is admitting you’re a problem and all.”

Liz patted his head and continued to clean, and Richie’s stomach sunk as he thought that she may have understood him after all.

--

It took a record seven months for someone in the bar to finally approach him.

Richie had to do a double take, and then a triple take when the boy sat down. He had clear, light skin and giant brown eyes, his hair combed down into the dorkiest haircut he had ever seen. His heart hurt at the sight.

“You okay, Richie?” The boy asked, his cheeks round and flushed.

“Uh.” Richie cleared his throat and tried again. He couldn’t work past the whisper of a memory that was begging to be unlocked. “That is... um.”

“You’re Richie Tozier, right? The comedian?” The man tilted his head, and the brief vision Richie was having disappeared. Still, this man was young in a way that made Richie feel every second of his thirty-eight years. He tried to shake off the feeling, but it slid like water through the cracks in his armor and settled into the marrow of his bones. He was suddenly too tired and not drunk enough.

“Debatable, but yes.” Richie smiled halfheartedly. “Richie Tozier, here to entertain.”

“It was just a question, dude,” the young man said, brow furrowed. 

Richie laughed suddenly and finished off his drink, then smiled politely as Liz refilled it. “Sorry, that was weird. You just... You remind me of someone. This boy from my hometown...”

Richie trailed off, studying the man, ignoring the painful clench in his stomach as he returned the gaze with a little heat in his enormous eyes, large and expressive and the stuff of his particularly curious nightmares.

“Yeah?” The man prompted. “Where is he now?”

“Well, I don’t... Don’t really know. Honestly, I don’t remember much of my childhood. It’s mostly, like, blurred pictures and shit.” He laughed. “Well, that sounds fucking stupid. Never mind.”

“It’s not stupid, Richie,” the man said, emphatic.

“Yeah?”

“No, it’s, like, fascinating. I mean, maybe it’s a good thing you don’t remember him.”

“Yeah, see, the thing about that is,” Richie said, sitting up straighter on his wobbly stool, “is that at least people who remember the shit they do, they get to know they don’t want it. The thing about forgetting is that you’ve lost a piece of the puzzle. You don’t get to decide you didn’t want it. Even if it’s super fucked up, you don’t get fucking trigger warnings or whatever. Just blankness. Like whiteout on your brain.”

“Yeah, well, knowing isn’t so much better. I broke up with my boyfriend three weeks ago and I wish I could pile up all his shit and set it on fire. I blocked him on everything and like, deleted all of his pictures on my stuff, but I can’t delete them up here.” The man tapped his temple. “Kind of wish I could. He was such an asshole.” A beat, and then-- “Maybe yours was, too.”

“Yeah, I wish. Having trauma would be great material for my stand-up, I wish I could remember it. Maybe my therapist will tell me after another ten thousand dollars.” He let out a rueful laugh, caught sight of the guy grinning at his joke, and laughed more genuinely.

“So you think this person was your friend?” The man asked. “Someone important?”

“Probably not if I can’t remember him,” Richie said with a shrug. “Must have just been some random dude I hung out with before I moved for college.”

The man gave Richie a searching look that Richie missed, and then put his hand over Richie’s. Richie ought to have reacted; he did not.

“Well, listen, maybe... if you want, we could finish our drinks and get out of here. I live close by.” He paused and lowered his voice to whisper into Richie’s ear. “I could be this guy for you, if you want.”

Richie should have been turned on by this twenty-something virile specimen with puppy-dog eyes and luscious lips breathing at his ear, but all he could feel was panic. He jerked back, though not fast enough to be unkind, and smiled as wide as he could.

“I mean, hey, who could turn down a proposition like that? Damn, you’re good at this, wow, but I kind of gotta get back home, can’t get back too late or else the missus is gonna have my ass for waking up the kids and it’ll really piss off my friend if he wakes up to me fuckin’ his mom so uh yeah sorry I’m just gonna”

He almost sprinted out of the bar, leaving his tab and an astonished, rejected man behind.

Richie leapt out of the uber the moment it got to his mansion and he sprinted inside to the bathroom. Richie conjured up the impossible image of this young man looking at him with want, his features changing just enough to push Richie over the edge with a forgotten name on his lips. 

In the aftermath, Richie panted in the dark, leaning on the counter for support as his legs threatened to give way. He finally lifted his head to look at himself and saw, for a moment, two glowing yellow eyes peering back at him.

#richie tozier #reddie #it #it chapter 2 #should i have cut this way tf down? yes #but i didn't want to give up anything i wrote #because i'm a big old baby and editing is apparently not my strong suit #anyways hope you like it #and don't hate me for uh using your post... #send me prompts if you like! #i'm stuck on reddie right now but i'll write more jily soon too #hopefully #easier with prompts wink wink nudge nudge

[platoniclokiimagines]

Reader’s parents kick them out because they are gay and Loki takes them in

Normally I put this in the tags, but I wanted to put up here, as well, given the upsetting content. Trigger warning for homophobia.

Coming to terms with your sexuality and identity was hard enough on its own. Struggling to put to rest all of the internalized homophobia that resided in your brain was an uphill battle, and you had been fighting for so long, and had come so far.

It had taken a long time, but you were finally getting to a point where you felt comfortable in who you were, and were no longer content to hide what made you you. And it was with that thought in mind that you finally came out to your parents, hoping that they would be understanding with the child they knew and loved.

Most of your hope went out the door when your father’s first response was to immediately tell you to get out before storming out of the room. Your last sliver of it died when your mother told you you had an hour to pack up what you wanted before you left.

To say that you were devastated was a vast understatement. You didn’t have the means to live on your own. You didn’t know the first thing about being on your own. You had some money, but not nearly enough to get by on, and certainly not enough to even get a hotel room for the night while you could figure out what to do.

As you packed your entire life into two suitcases and a backpack, the reality of your situation crashed down on you, and tears blurred your vision as you folded shirt after shirt and wedged them into your suitcase. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you found yourself feeling grateful that you had never much been one for owning excessive trinkets. You were able to pack up almost everything that you owned.

You couldn’t bring yourself to face your parents before you left, so you ducked out the second you had finished packing, making sure you had everything you needed. Unsure of where else you could go, you pulled your phone out and called the only person you could think to talk you through this.

The longer the phone rang, the more distraught you became, and when Loki finally answered the phone, you just broke down into ragged sobs.

“Can you come pick me up? I-I’m outside of my house.”

“I’m on my way.” Loki sounded confused, but concerned, and you could tell that they were walking as they spoke. “Hang in there, Y/N, I’m coming to get you.”

The time it took for Loki to show up in one of Stark’s cars felt like the longest fifteen minutes of your life, and when they opened the car door and saw you standing there with your suitcases, you could practically see their heart sink as they looked at you.

“…come on, I’ll help you put these in the back.”

You ending up just standing there awkwardly, watching Loki carry both suitcases to the trunk, but Loki didn’t complain. They only kept looking back at you with so much concern in their eyes that it made you want to cry harder. You didn’t even realize that they had finished until you felt yourself gently being pushed to sit down in the back of the car and felt Loki buckling your seat belt for you.

You glanced up, and saw Tony and Steve looking at you concernedly from the front two seats, and you tried your best to smile and wave at them, but couldn’t quite get there. Instead, you turned to look at Loki as they closed the door behind them and sat down close to you.

“Do you… want to talk about it?” Loki was being cautious, speaking so gently that it made your heart twinge with guilt as you shrugged halfheartedly.

“There’s not much to say… I came out to my parents, and they… gave me an hour to pack up and leave.”

You heard Tony mutter something angrily from the front seat, quickly followed bye Steve shushing him, but you were a little too out of it to show any more interest in their conversation as you looked up at Loki.

“I don’t have anywhere to go… I don’t have a steady job, I don’t have much money… I’m just a kid.” You hardly managed to murmur the last sentence before you broke down into heart-wrenching sobs, and the next thing you knew, Loki was pulling you into the gentlest hug they had ever given you, tucking your head under their chin as you wept.

“Sh… It’s alright. You’re safe with us. You’re safe with me. We won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Rock of Ages is right,” Tony stated from the front seat. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. will have a room ready for you by the time we get home. You’re gonna be alright, kid.”

You sniffled gracelessly, and swallowed thickly as you looked up at the pair in the front. “Thanks… You have no idea how much that means.” You paused, thinking for a moment. “I’ll… find something to do. Pull my own weight, so I’m not… freeloading or anything.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N, you don’t have to do a thing.” It was Steve’s turn to speak. “We’re just glad to help however we can.”

You felt Loki nod, and squeeze you a little tighter. “We’ll take care of you.”

You didn’t pay much attention to the rest of the conversation on the way to the compound. You had cried so hard, and been under so much stress in the last hour that you found yourself dozing off, Loki carefully cradling you against their side.

You woke up in a state of confusion, mostly due to the fact that you were staring at the ceiling as you were being moved, but you were decidedly not walking on your own. You tilted your head forward to figure out what was going on, and found that you were being carried through the compound by Loki.

“Mmph…?”

“Sh…” Loki soothed you, glancing at you briefly as they walked. “Go back to sleep, I’m just carrying you to your room. You’re right next to mine.”

You fell silent and looked from Loki back to the ceiling, and then down the hallway as they came to a stop at a door and nudged it open and walked in. With the utmost care, they gently placed you on the bed, and pulled the covers up around you.

“I’ll bring you a glass of water. I’m sure you’re thirsty.”

But as they moved to turn around, you caught their wrist, and looked up at them anxiously.

“I don’t… want to be alone right now, please stay with me.”

Loki nodded immediately, and pulled a chair over to sit next to the bed, letting you keep your hand in theirs as you got comfortable on the bed. “Is this better?”

You nodded, and tried to smile.

Instead, you started to cry and, embarrassed, you covered your face with your free hand to hide your desperate sobbing. Loki was having none of it, and immediately stood up, climbed into the bed with you, pulling you into a tight hug.

“Sh…. Y/N, sh….” they murmured in a soothing, quiet voice. “It’s alright… I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but it’s going to be… I promise you… You’ll be alright… We’ll get through this together.”

All you could do was cry into their shoulder.

#tw: homophobia #Loki imagine #platonic Loki imagine #Loki #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Odinson #Loki x reader #platonic!Loki x reader #NORMALIZE PLATONIC SNUGGLES AND CUDDLES AND COMFORT #anonymous #ask #answered #thank you for the ask! #this kind of got a little out of hand #but I hope you like it nonetheless

[macbookpro-hard-drive]

control [jeremy h. x squipped!reader] pt.4

i arise from my grave to post this

so uhhhh consider............... im a tired college student-

anyway uh

i swear this part is shorter than i intended but i guess i’ll die

warnings: squip. thts it. the squip. manipulation, abuse, everything that kinda comes with writing about the SQUIP. also horror movie mentions but nothing explicit (although a kill is mentioned from one of said horror movies)

             Halloween day finally comes, and thankfully lands on a Saturday to give you maximum time to hang out with Michael and Jeremy (who, upon learning you’d be joining the two of them during a lucky moment between classes, had stared at you for a moment with furrowed brow before commenting he didn’t know that the two of you were friends again). Your nerves were getting the best of you as you flipped through your clothes, slipping into a comfortable pair of black jeans. The entire time, your SQUIP lingered around you, talking you through some game plan. You stripped off the large shirt you used for pajamas and slipped into a plain black t-shirt, before fishing your jean jacket from your bed. 

            Finally, you turned to your SQUIP’s form standing behind you. “Maybe I could, y’know... do this myself?” You suggested, before following it up with a quick, almost apologetic, “I don’t think I should be depending on you for every interaction... right?”

            At first, it didn’t respond. It stared at you, lips pressed into a thin line as it gave you a once-over. After letting out a small hum of approval at your ensemble, it shook it’s head. “I’ve run the numbers and that will result in your failure, [y/n]. It’s best to stick with the original plan,” and then it paused for a moment, “I’m beginning to detect that you don’t trust me.”

            “I do!” You responded quickly, before you nervously pushed past the intangible figure to look in your mirror. Combing your fingers through your hair, you let the question weigh in your mind before you finally looked back to your SQUIP. “Is... Is there any way to get rid of you?” 

            “No.” The response was sharp, quick to shoot down any and every idea you’d been formulating. 

            “Oh. So...” You trailed off, before crossing your room and fishing through your dresser to find a pair of socks, “I’m stuck with you, then.”

            “Stuck implies you no longer want me here, [y/n].”

            “It’s not that I don’t want you here...” You mused aloud, before snagging a pair of shoes and sitting on your bed. “It’s just... I don’t think I want you around when I’m, like, thirty.”

            “Plenty of world leaders would kill to have a SQUIP, [y/n]. Consider yourself lucky.”

            You merely shrugged at the sentiment before your phone chimed with a text from Michael, almost as if on cue to end this awkward moment between you and the voice in your head. Quickly, you finished getting ready and shoved your keys and phone into your pocket, and you raced out to Michael’s car. Jeremy was already in the passenger seat, forcing you to retire into the back - which, you immediately sprawled out and absolutely enjoyed the space as Michael took off, launching into a list of the contenders for the evening. Scream, Halloween, A Nightmare On Elm Street, specifically the remake of Friday The 13th (and, for a moment, you heard Jeremy exhale sharply at the title), Final Destination...

            “And Terrifier-” Michael began, eyes cutting towards Jeremy for a split second. 

            Immediately, Jeremy smacked Michael’s arm. “Dude, I told you I’m not watching Terrifier-” He shifted, “fuck that clown.” 

            You looked between the two of them. “What’s Terrifier?” 

            Michael’s beaming at your question. “Jer. We have to. They don’t-”

            “No!” He retorted, “fuck you, I’m sparing them, then-”

            “C’mon, Jeremy,” Michael teased further, “it’s just one kill-”

            “HE SAWS HER IN HALF, MICHAEL.” Jeremy’s voice went up an octave, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, “that’s horrifying-”

            You rose a brow in response. “What’s so bad about that-”

            Jeremy turned to face you, “okay.” He shut his eyes for a moment, composing himself, before he opened them once more, “there’s this girl that gets kidnapped, right? She gets... suspended spread eagle, and cut down the middle.”

            “Okay, but-”

            “She’s upside down.” When you winced at the mental image, Jeremy looked back at Michael, “see? Any normal person would find that disgusting-”

           “Alright,” Michael conceded, “no Terrifier. Got it.”

           If there was one thing that became apparent extremely quickly, it was that the Friday The 13th remake was fucking awful. Without Michael’s constant quips (plenty having to do with Mr.Supernatural being in the movie), you weren’t sure how you survived - especially during a sex scene until the poetic line of “you have perfect nipple placement, baby” was spoken and immediately the three of you are choking on laughter - Michael more than happy to mock it. And thank fuck for that, because you’d been uncomfortable watching the scene up until that line - to say nothing of how awkwardly silent Jeremy had gone. The moment the movie was over, Michael began to queue up Netflix with the promise of watching something actually good. The opening moments of Scream had been enough to prove that.

          From beside you, Michael lowered his voice, looking at you and Jeremy, “what’s your favorite scary movie?” 

          You playfully nudged him with your elbow, “fuck, dude, that wasn’t even a good impression-”

          “I think it was great, actually,” Michael looked to Jeremy, “don’t you agree?”

          Looking between the two of you, Jeremy debated for a moment before finally giving his answer, “I, uh, kinda have to side with [y/n]-”

          “Unbelievable. Betrayal.” Michael leaned back into the couch, looking back to the movie, “I let you come into my house, eat my snacks-”

          “-That I helped buy,” Jeremy cut in.

          “That my dear friend Jeremiah helped buy,” Michael smirked a little, “and this is how I’m repaid.”

          “C’mon, Mikey,” you nudged him once more, “Jeremy’s not gonna lie about your shitty impression.”

          “He would if I was Christine.”

          “That’s because Christine’s talented,” Jeremy looked away, “it wouldn’t have sucked if she did it.”

          For a moment, you faltered. “Yeah,” you halfheartedly said, and pretended not to catch Michael’s concerned glance at your sudden change in behavior, “he’s got a point.”

          The moment Michael went to say anything, your phone began to ding relentlessly. With the intention of turning it to silent, you pulled it from your jacket pocket only to freeze the moment you caught a glimpse of the screen. Tweet after tweet, text after text, all of it came in rapid-fire, whether they were directly to you or not. You pulled yourself off of the couch, ignoring Michael’s call after you as you head upstairs to open up your Twitter.

          Rich set a fire. Jake’s house was burned down. Rich was in the hospital, and so was Jake.

          A hand landed on your shoulder, and you almost jumped as you turned to face Michael. He stared at you for a moment, giving you a once-over before finally speaking, “you okay?”

          You shrugged it off, stumbling as you took a step back, “yeah-”

          Michael’s gaze goes soft as he picked up on the fear that was racing through your blood and shining on your face. “That’s bullshit, [y/n],” he said, “look, I won’t push you to talk, but-”

          Swallowing your nerves, you forced yourself to stand tall and get your emotions under control. “Can you drive me home?”

          He glanced back to the door, where Jeremy had been coming up the steps, “uh, yeah- just let me grab my phone-”

          And then he left you alone with Jeremy as he retreated downstairs. Biting his bottom lip nervously, he tore his eyes away from you, before finally appearing to gather some courage to speak to you. “Is everything okay?”

          You nodded quickly, “yeah, just...” You trailed off, looking down at the floor, “something came up.”

          “What?”

          Immediately, you panicked. Something about saying Rich Goranski is in the hospital and I’m worried felt too heavy to drop at the moment. So you just stayed silent as Michael came back upstairs with his phone.

          The moment you were back in the sanctuary of your room, you found your phone once more. Flipping through tweets, you felt your stomach drop further. He burned the house down because he knew he was gay and couldn’t handle that, that he was dead, that he was high and drunk, that Jake had broken both of his legs while escaping the fire, and you saw a few tweets from some pissed people about how they’d been slightly burned while escaping the fire. But Rich received the worst of it. 

          “But-” You mused aloud, “how did he - why would he-” 

          “Rich lacked the proper coping mechanism. His SQUIP was most likely disabled due to the alcohol he consumed that night,” your SQUIP stepped into existence in front of you, and you lowered your phone as you looked up at it, “and with everything else he’s been dealing with...”

          Your blood ran cold at the implication. “You don’t mean he-”

          “Perhaps it was just an accident.”

          You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, completely disheveled from your worries. “I should go see him.”

          “He won’t be awake.” Your SQUIP crossed it’s arms as it looked down at you, “besides... he most likely won’t be having visitors yet.”

          “I don’t care-”

          “[y/n]. You need to rest first. You can visit Rich tomorrow...” You finally gave into what it was saying, sitting down on your bed for a moment, “besides.” You looked up, “you did well tonight. You deserve a break.”

         “I... what?”

         “I let you control the conversation. Instead of giving you the correct things to say, I decided to watch. You performed amiably. Congratulations.” Your SQUIP smiled at you, “you’re learning. Of course, we still have more work to do, but it’s progress.”

         “Oh.” You stood, stripping off your jacket, “thank you, then.” You paused for a moment, “I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep.”

         “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine. Don’t forget,” it said, and you turned to look at it, “you have me.”

         Over the next few days, you’d been relentlessly going to the hospital - borrowing your parents’ cars whenever you could. After several days of trying, you were finally able to get in to see Rich, and your heart sank in your chest when you finally saw him. He wasn’t awake, as your SQUIP had said, but he was alive and that was enough for you in that moment. He was broken and bruised, sure, but the fact his heart monitor provided a steady beat to break the silence in the room was almost like music. You stood at his bedside, looking down on him as he slept. You hugged your arms close to your body - what would have happened to you if you had gone to the party? Would you be here, alongside or instead of Rich? Would you have been able to stop him from... whatever he had been trying to do?

         “Rich,” you finally say aloud, and your tears choke you, “fuck - Rich, I’m sorry-”

         “You have nothing to apologize for,” your SQUIP’s touch grazed your shoulder, “this wasn’t your fault. There was nothing we could have done.”

         “I should have been there, I could have stopped him-”

         “It was for the best that you were with Michael and Jeremy, [y/n].”

         For a moment, you’re quiet and afraid. But you finally asked the question that had begun to weigh down on you: “is this going to happen to me?”

         “Of course not. Now... let’s get back to work,” your SQUIP said, “it’s important you don’t dwell on this for too long. Let’s visit Jake while we’re here.”

         Going along with it’s idea, you’d easily found Jake’s room after a few minutes of searching. The TV had been on with some cooking show displayed, and you were more than glad to see Jake awake and as well as he could be for someone with two broken legs. When you cautiously walked in, he brightened up immediately - and for a moment, you had assumed it was because you weren’t a nurse coming to check on him.

         “[y/n]!” He called out as you walked in, “how are you?”

         Caught off guard by the question, you stammered for a moment, “I’m - uh, I’m fine,” you said, “how are you?”

         “Great!” He said, “I mean - the whole broken legs thing is, y’know, not that great, but I’m glad to see you.”

         “You... you are?”

         “Yeah!” He said, “Rich always talks about you, y’know.” The moment you flushed, Jake chuckled, “he said you’re a lot cooler than you seem.”

         “Oh.” You looked away for a moment, “that’s sweet of him-”

         “Do you still do the art stuff?” He asked, and immediately you looked back at him.

         “How did you know that I-”

         He cut you off, “there was this project back in freshman year that you did with Michael Mell, and, uh, Jeremy-something. You did the art for it, right?”

         Nodding, you slowly remembered the piece you’d been repressing due to how rushed it had been. “Right. Yeah, I still do art stuff,” you smiled at him, “do you know when you’re getting out?”

         “Nah,” he sunk into the bed, “shouldn’t be long, though. We should hang out!”

         “Oh. Uh. Don’t you hang out with Chloe and Brooke...?”

         “Yeah,” he admitted, “but you came to visit me, so... we should still hang.”

         You couldn’t help but smile at that. “Sure,” you said, fiddling with your hair, “that’d be great, Jake.”

         Jake reached out for you, and immediately pulled you into an awkward hug. “Fuck, dude, Rich was right about you.”

         “About me being cool, or...?”

         “He said you’re really fuckin’ nice, since you helped him out with something.” He shrugged, “are you two... not friends?”

         “I, uh - we are, sorta-”

         “Good.” He said, “Rich is a good dude to his friends, y’know.”

         “What about your house?” You asked.

         Jake’s smile fell, “I mean... I think it was an accident. Since, y’know, Rich wouldn’t just burn my house down, right?”

         You nodded. “Right.” Stepping back away from the bed, you smiled once more, “I hope you get out of here soon, Jake.”

         On your way out of the hospital, you stood in the gift shop for far too long, occupied with your own thoughts. So Rich had been talking about you - and, whatever he said aside from you being nice, helpful, and cooler than you seem, it had been enough to make Jake Dillinger think the two of you were friends. You almost smiled at the idea, but the underlying feeling that Rich would wake up and immediately ditch you lingered within the pit of your stomach. Shaking your head, you dismissed the thought as you headed out to your car. You had things to do. 

          After all, you shouldn’t dwell.

        Over a week later, there’s this uneasy feeling that’s stuck with you from the first moment you saw Rich in that hospital bed. Uncertainty? Fear? You weren’t sure - but it dwelled within the pit of your stomach, making you doubt every move no matter whether you or your SQUIP made it. You’d just gotten home from hanging out with Michael and Jeremy at the mall, your backpack swung from your shoulder to the foot of your bed, and you nearly collapse as you sit down. Slowly, you sank your head into your hands, warm against your face before you finally let go and fall back onto your bed. When you uncovered your face, your SQUIP had materialized before you.

        It leaned over you. “Is there a problem? You should be happy since you spent time with Jeremy-”

        “I am, I just-” You paused for a moment, “I just don’t feel like I’m.. me anymore.”

        “You are you, [y/n].”

        You nodded slowly in agreement, before propping yourself up on your elbows. “Right, but... I feel like you’re taking control of everything and I’m - I’m just... fake.”

        It raised a brow at the mere idea. “You’re far from artificial.”

        Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you couldn’t help but feel... off. “But you don’t let me control things-”

        With a heavy sigh, your SQUIP shook it’s head before pacing around your room. “That’s because we’re still in phase B of our plan. Once we get to phase C, you’ll have more control-”

        “And when will that be?”

        It looked back at you, slowing to a stop. “Once we pin down Jeremy’s feelings for you, you can be more yourself.”

        After a moment, you sank back against your bed, shutting your eyes for a moment. “I hope you’re right.”

        “Of course I’m right. After all, relationships are like this...”

        You opened your eyes again. “What?”

        “Faking it until you get it? Revealing yourself when you have them? It’s very common, [y/n].”

        When it said that, you couldn’t help but feel skeptical. But when you tried to remember your last relationship (or, rather, a weak attempt at one), it felt so distant that you were unsure of how it had went. Yet you nod along nonetheless. The feeling of of dread stayed with you.

        And it continued to stay attached to you like a shadow over the next few days. Even when you found yourself sitting on Michael’s bed, a pillow hugged against your chest as he and Jeremy were ecstatically talking about one of Michael’s latest finds from the guy at Spencer’s. You’d zoned out for the time being, thoughts more preoccupied with what was to come. How much longer would it be until you had control over yourself again?

        But your SQUIP’s voice jarred you from your thoughts. “We need to go.”

        As Michael pulled out a bottle of red soda, a slightly faded plastic label reading MOUNTAIN DEW RED crinkling as he did, you held back a frown at your SQUIP. “[y/n],” Michael said with a smile, holding it out, “you want one?”

        “Hell yeah, dude-” You had began as you reached for it, barely getting it within your grasp before a shock rang through your hand, a small hiss of pain emitting from you as the bottle hit the floor. “Shit, sorry, Michael-”

        But a flash of pain cut you off before you could try to explain anything away. Your voice was distant as you heard yourself speak, bullshitting some excuse as you lost control of your body - it moving on it’s own despite your desperate attempts to take back what was yours. You managed to take control back the moment you got outside, knees weak and the following shock was enough to send you crashing onto your knees.

        “What the fuck?!” You snapped, speaking aloud as another shock ran through you. “FUCK-”

        “I told you we need to leave.”

        “I didn’t want to-”

        “[y/n], we-”

        “No!” You snapped once more, “no - this is still my life - I want to-” Your speech devolved as you struggled to word your thoughts, “it was just a soda!” Another shock ran through you. “What the fuck- come on - I just- it was just-”

        And then it all made sense. The panic. The sudden change. How close had you been? How fucking close had you been? When you tried to get back up and turn yourself around, you found yourself fighting for control all over again as your body turned away from Michael’s house, every step forcing you farther and farther from salvation.

         “[y/n]!” Michael’s voice rang clear out across his front lawn, and before you could try to do anything, he was running up to you - catching you by the wrist. “Hey - what the fuck, dude? Are you okay? What just happened-”

         But he stopped, staring at you. You, completely terrified and shaking and fighting for control of your own fucking body. You were, to put it simply, a mess. Disheveled, hands twitchy, breathing labored as you forced yourself to stay planted where you were. You broke through, “get the Mountain Dew Red” slipping past your lips in a hiss before another shock of pain sparks through you, and you’re pulling yourself away from Michael once more. 

         A door slammed. Before you could go anywhere, Michael’s footsteps pound against the pavement as he tackled you to the ground. Your body fought against him. He managed to grab you by the wrists, pinning you down, his knees at your abdomen as you continued to thrash against your will against him.

         “[y/n]-” Michael began, before his nails dug into your skin, “what the literal fuck is going on?”

        Tears streamed down your cheeks as you fought for your voice. “I-” You managed to force past your lips, “I - I took this - pill,” your voice strained, and you kept fighting for control, “I thought Jeremy would like me but - but I fucked - I fucked up, Michael-” You were straight up about to breakdown, voice wavering with every forced syllable, “I’m so sorry, I just - I can’t-”

        “[y/n].” It’s voice cut clearly through your mind, almost afraid for a second. “I promise - I’ll do better for you. We’ll scrap this plan and make a new one. You just have to let me try again. I promise-” 

        The door slammed once more, and Jeremy is rushing over, questioning everything along the way.

        It turned nasty. “You’ll never be the same, [y/n],” it hissed, “think about it - if you keep me, you’ll be normal - you’ll never have to hurt again. If you get rid of me, you’ll never be accepted - you’ll be an outcast all over again, and Jeremy and Michael are guaranteed to hate you-” 

        The last things you remembered were the faintly fruity taste on your lips, a thousand questions flying around you, and an intense pain that seemed to completely split you in two as a scream tore it’s way out of you.

        And then everything went black.

#mj's writing corner #bmc #be more chill reader insert #be more chill x reader #bmc reader insert #jeremy heere x reader #jeremy heere imagine #god i hope my quick proofreading was enough to catch anything tht wasnt finished-

[hereyougo-flamingsword]

Faith, a snippet from a Good Omens Human AU

So I had this idea for a human AU, and this is the ONLY scene I’ve written for it. May or may not continue with it, so I’m just gonna post it here. 

Aziraphale and Crowley used to be a part of the same church, but Crowley got kicked out at a young age and joined the Atheist Organization in the same town, and these two organizations often recruit in the same locations, where Aziraphale and Crowley met.  I don’t have a whole lot of details beyond this, but the idea wouldn’t leave me alone til i completed this scene.

Crowley took a long draught straight from the bottle and swirled the liquid inside, staring at it through the murky glass in deep thought until it settled into a flat line.

“I still believe, you know.”

Aziraphale stilled at that, glass halfway to his lips.

“I beg your pardon?” he asked, putting the glass back down and focusing his attention on his drinking companion.

Crowley was sitting up now, elbows resting on his knees, bottle held irreverently in one hand. But his casual stance was betrayed when he looked up at Aziraphale, amber eyes wide and vulnerable.

“I still…believe, Aziraphale,” he said slowly, as if he were confessing a sin, “You know. In…” he gestured upward.

Aziraphale’s mouth fell open, slackjawed. “God?” he whispered reverently.

Crowley nodded.

Aziraphale’s thoughts race. “How?”

Crowley shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant despite his shaking hands.

“When I, erm, fell from grace, as they say,” he said, shifting uncomfortably, “Everyone just assumed that I didn’t believe anymore.  They didn’t ask! They just looked at all the…stuff I did, that made them think—oh, this boy isn’t a proper Christian, he does, y’know, this this and this! Must mean he rejected God Himself, yup, we’re not gonna ASK him about it, let’s just ASSUME! Cause everybody knows that’s just what happens when you’re booted from the church, right? You just…lose your faith, like a s-sock in the dryer, right?”

Crowley rolled his shining eyes as he took a drink from the bottle. “I really did believe, though, Aziraphale. I believed so much that it…it HURT to be cast out like that. Cast out from my church, my neighbors, my childhood home…”

Crowley covered his face with a hand, stifling a sob.

Aziraphale felt his own eyes grow watery.  He had never heard the details of Crowley’s…excommunication, as it were. Nobody deigned Aziraphale worthy of the church rumor mill, for good or for bad, and that meant he only ever caught snippets of wildly conflicting accounts. This vague rant was the most information he had ever known, and his nosy mind was SCREAMING out for more, but at the same time…it may have been his tipsy state, but the whole thing was tugging at his heartstrings.

“I lost my faith in Christians that day, no doubt about it,” said Crowley, staring down at his knees, “But not my faith in God.”

Aziraphale wiped his eyes discreetly, trying not to think about how much that hit home.

“W-well, don’t act so surprised that nobody knew you still believed,” said Aziraphale, trying to keep some semblance of their normal banter whilst Crowley was baring his soul, “Joining up with the Atheist Organization isn’t exactly a sign of religious belief, my dear boy.”

“C’mon, Aziraphale, I was just a kid when they threw me out! Seventeen!” he said indignantly. “I was young, and I was angry, and I wanted more than ANYTHING to take that church down a peg.  I saw my opportunity, and I took it, even if it meant hiding my more…controversial secrets.”

Aziraphale nodded sagely. “Can’t have the atheists finding out about your faith.”

“Yeah,” Crowley said, staring into the nearly-empty wine bottle, “My faith.”

He took a swig.

“They’d eat me ALIVE if they found out,” mumbled Crowley.

“You think so?” asked Aziraphale, “You said they LOVED you down there.”

“Aw, that doesn’t MATTER, because those guys are a bunch of WANKERS!” outbursted Crowley, “I only joined up with em because they hated the church just as much as I did, but all they do is give each other demon nicknames and talk SHIT about RELIGION! All religion, any religion, anybody with a belief system is FAIR GAME to these guys, and they are quick to turn on each other if somebody steps outta line.  They don’t really care about KNOWLEDGE, or truth, or even HELPING people who have been hurt by the church-“ Crowley pointed at himself with both hands emphatically, “-they just care about-about FEELING SUPERIOR!”

Crowley slumped back again. “Just like all those holier-than-thou wankers in the church.”

The air between the two was charged with vulnerability. Aziraphale wasn’t drunk enough to fail to understand that this space, this fragile, secret-sharing space, was somehow precious, and one wrong move could destroy it forever. He had to be careful.

“Not a big fan of…organized religion, then?” Aziraphale said, tentatively.

Crowley actually snorted a laugh at that one.

“No, not really,” Crowley said, still smiling, “And I asked too many questions for it to like me, either.”

“Yes, I did hear about that,” Aziraphale said, smiling as well, “I hope you know that that’s what you’re known for, over there.”

Crowley pumped his fist into the air halfheartedly, and let it drop.

“That’s not why I was kicked out, though,” Crowley said quietly, all trace of mirth gone from his face quite suddenly.

Aziraphale’s heart beat fast in anticipation. “O-oh?”

“I wasn’t kicked out because I asked too many questions or stopped believing or whatever shit they say when they talk about me.”

“What was it?”

“It’s because-“ Crowley choked.

Aziraphale leaned in a little.

“It’s because-ngk-because I’m-“ Crowley was struggling, struggling HARD, to spit whatever it was out. “I-I’m-“

Aziraphale reached out his hand, and put it on Crowley’s knee as moral support.

“…I’m very gay,” Crowley admitted, with a trembling smile trying too had to be casual.

Aziraphale immediately withdrew it, fear sparking in his soul.

It was the wrong move. Crowley’s whole face, which had been fixated on Aziraphale’s reaction, drooped, and he leaned back against the couch, far away from Aziraphale, eyes fixed on his own knees.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Crowley sighed, sounding disappointed more than anything else as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I almost don’t even blame you, knowing how you’ve been marinating in that place’s homophobia for years. Big scary queer, coming to convert your sons to Satan’s worship, blah blah blah, I’ve heard it before. Maybe someday you’ll get over it, but if you don’t, I don’t care.”

Aziraphale sat with his hands in his lap, panicking. Oh, he had made a right mess of things, what could he do?

At least Crowley was still talking to him, from his guarded position over on the couch. Talking was good, talking gave him time to come up with something.

“Parents caught me kissing that Raphael boy,” continued Crowley, “D’you remember him? His family moved away conveniently right afterward, ya might not. Kicked me out of the house the next day, m’parents I mean. But they wanted to preserve their precious fucking CHURCHGOER’S REPUTATION so badly, that they made sure that word never got out to anybody else. But joke’s on them!”

Crowley smiled an unsettlingly manic grin.

“That’s the only thing that’s saving me right now. Nobody else knowing that I’m g-gay, I mean. Not even the bloody atheist club.”

“J-just me?” Aziraphale asked, putting a hand to his chest.

Crowley smiled, the serene smile of a man who knows that he’s probably fucked ,but just can’t bring himself to care at the moment. “Just you.”

Aziraphale’s slightly buzzed mind was, well…buzzing. Crowley was gay.

More importantly, Crowley was gay…too.

And Aziraphale was really, really, REALLY kicking himself for pulling his hand away like that.

It was a very old instinct, to clam up in fear around other people he knew to be gay. He always had the sense that they could…find him out, somehow, to see into his soul if he looked at them, feel kinship in the way he touched them, and for his own survival? He couldn’t HAVE that.

But Crowley had no way of knowing that.  All he saw was a middle-aged, devoted man of the church, pulling away in fear upon the reveal of his orientation.

Aziraphale usually would take this as a…necessary evil, if a gay person saw him as homophobic. That meant the disguise was WORKING, and could continue to ensure his survival. But this time, it felt like a betrayal. They might technically be on opposite sides, in this great religious debate, but this was Crowley.

Crowley, the one who always struck up a conversation when they were recruiting at the same events.

Crowley, the only one who actually had his back when things went wrong.

Crowley, who had just shared two potentially life-ruining secrets with him, which were both things that they had in common.

Aziraphale couldn’t cope with that. He made his decision, and  downed the rest of his drink.

“Ohhh,” he groaned, face grimacing with reluctance, “I am too.”

Crowley dropped the empty bottle, which thunked onto the rug. “Wh-what?”

“I’m GAY!” Aziraphale burst out, with more force than was probably necessary, “Queer as a three dollar bill! Gayer than a-a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide!”

Crowley snorted with laughter, despite his shock, and cracked open a new wine bottle.

“That’s a new one,” he noted with a smile, and took a swig.

“Oh, hand it OVER,” Aziraphale said tiredly, making a grabby-hand motion toward the bottle.

Crowley passed it over, and Aziraphale took a healthy swig, grimacing as he swallowed.

“I haven’t told anybody, obviously,” Aziraphale said, keeping an annoyed affect while his heart beat like a rabbit’s, quick in his chest, “I didn’t think I ever WOULD. I thought I would just keep it to myself for the rest of my life, marry a woman, and have children like God intended.”

Crowley scoffed, and reached out for the bottle. Their hands brushed as Aziraphale handed it back.

“But I-I didn’t know Raphael,” Aziraphale rambled, the mix of adrenaline and alcohol doing absolutely nothing for his coherence, “I-y-you’re the only other one I know, who would ADMIT it anyway, and I-“ he took a deep breath, “I can’t LOSE you, by letting you think that I’m-I’m just another straight homophobic bastard like them. I had to say something.”

The silence hung over the two of them as Crowley took his time processing Aziraphale’s words, brow slightly furrowed in his inebriated state, until he lit up with a smile.

“How ‘bout that,” Crowley said slowly, “Coupla queers, hanging out in a bookshop together.”

“Two queers who believe in God,” slurred Aziraphale, jabbing his finger in the air at Crowley.

Crowley grimaced. “Point taken.”

The whole thing felt so heavy, heavy enough for them to fall silent for a full ten minutes while they continued to drink, abandoning the glasses and passing the bottle back and forth between each other.

“How can you still believe?” Aziraphale suddenly said, “After everything you have been through?”

Crowley shrugged. “Easy, really, when you feel-when you-you-ohh, this is going to sound stupid.”

Crowley put his face in his hands.

“What?”

“Oh…” Crowley flicked his eyes back up to Aziraphale’s eager face, and sighed. “You know how sometimes people would go off on mission, and come back with their stories like ‘I was CALLED to do this’ or ‘I was CALLED to do that’ and secretly in your mind you’re like ‘FUCK you, no you weren’t, you just decided to do that all by yourself-‘”

Aziraphale opened his mouth to protest, but then closed it again.

“My point is, I could have left town when my parents kicked me out,” he said, leaning his elbows onto his knees again, “I could have gone anywhere else. California, maybe, Canada, Paris, the moon! But I chose to stay here.  I told you before that it’s because I love causing trouble—and I do, don’t get me wrong—but that’s not really all of it.”

They had been drifting closer and closer to each other with each pass of the bottle, and now they were pressed up against the arms of their respective couches, less than a foot away from each other.

Aziraphale wordlessly passed him back the bottle, and Crowley took a swig.

“For lack of a…better term,” Crowley said, “I felt…called, to stay here. There was something in my gut that told me, in no uncertain terms, that I was needed here, and I am pretty certain that She was the one who put it there.”

The way that Crowley said She so reverently, with a smile on his face like he was speaking about an old friend…that little pronoun swap he always did was never JUST to wind him up after all.

“It’s not all fun and games, being in this town,” Crowley continued, “I’m off on my own most of the time, don’t really feel like I fit in anywhere, and I don’t even know what She expects me to do. But…I still feel like I’m going in the right direction, and She is leading me down the right path.”

“Even here? Now? Drinking with a member of the Church?” asked Aziraphale, incredulously.

Crowley nodded, slow. “Especially here, especially now, and especially with you.”

If Aziraphale had ever felt the divine presence of God before, he felt it now, looking into Crowley’s eyes.

He looked down, clearing his throat, ready to make one final admission.

“I’ve been praying for you, you know,” Aziraphale said quietly, “For you to be…forgiven. You’re…a good person, and you don’t deserve all of that nasty gossip.”

The silence dragged out so long that Aziraphale wondered if he shouldn’t have said anything.

“That’s funny,” Crowley said carefully, “Because I’ve also been praying for you.”

Aziraphale was taken aback by that.

“Wh-what-w-well, that’s-that’s very kind of you,” he stammered, face turning red, “But…what for?”

This time Crowley reached out, across the gap between the couches, and grasped Aziraphale’s hand with his own. Aziraphale let him.

“I’ve been praying,” Crowley said, voice as soft as his touch, “That one day…you might finally see the light.”

#good omens #human AU

[flamebrain]

mattfoggy hcs, straight from the bastard empire sorry these all read like shitepostes(L O N G post under cut you’ve been warned)

WTNV au:

nightvale is just populated by like. vigilantes and other poewered people and foggy shoes up one day like. hey anyone need a lawyer? and the whole town falls in love w him

MURDERDOCK IS KEVIN

matt does radio and talks about foggys perfect hair and perfect teeth and foggy calls in like "heh, thanks dude, but aren't you like blind?" and matt shuts the call off immediatley

everybody knows matt is daredevil because he makes wink wink nudge nudge comments about it like 'ah. it appears that an entity has appeared near the dog park. castle appears to be on the scene now, and...ok, he's got a gun. i cant do anything about that, but my pal (noises of him scrambling and obviously knocking things over) daredevil might be able OKHERESTHEWEATHER" and it cuts off and like. he shows up 5 seconds later to kick frank in the face for using lethal measures AGAIN

EVERY TIME IT CUTS TO THE WEATHER AND THEN CUS BACK AND THE PROBLEM HAS BEEN SOLVED ITS JUST MATT. like. breathing just a little heavier than normal into the mic like. 'so it appears uh. the issue has been resolved thanks again to daredevil and his pal moon knight. such a shame i had to cower under my desk while the weather was on. ok goodnight'

the funky thing abt nightvale in this au is that it's basically just like. new york from 616 but foggy's like. from our earth so he's like HWAT THE FUCK AND AHIT IS GOING ON IN HERE ON THIS DAY AND WHY CANT I LEAVE he gets kidnapped by super villains on like his second day in town and immediatley regrets every life choice he's ever made

matt works at nightvale radio by day and conviently cuts to the weather every time something comes up so sometimes there's like. 7 half hour weather broadcasts a day and the townspeople just. humor him

foggy falls in love with matt after figuring out after .5 seconds that he's daredevil and he saved him from a bunch of baddies on like his second day and matt compliments him on the radio like every day and yeah they're fuckin good ok assorted stupid college hcs: matt and foggy like to chill in each other's beds. foggy doesn't notice that often because matt moves back b4 he gets back and matt pretends not to notice but  like. he can smell foggy was there. foggy. stop napping in this bed you're making my sheets smell like you, foggy, i KNOW they're silk and i know you think you're getting away with it but you're NOT,

matt, coming back into the dorm after being out for the day: foggy are you laying on my bed foggy, sitting up straight: nah pal. just sitting on the end for a minute hehe. just had to rest the old joints matt, knowing DAMN well that he was lying down a second ago and he's obviously lying but not being able to say anything; haha ok. move

hrnnn matt knows foggy is gay long before he tells him because he catches him in a lie about who he was out with but he can't say anything and like. he knows foggy is scared to tell him but he doesn't know how to bring it up and he's like. i want him to know he can trust me but i don't know how to tell him i know please foggy

foggys heart goes a mile a minute anytime the subject of being gay comes up around matt and matt wants to yell at him that it's OK and he doesn't care but his hints that he's fine with it seem to fly right over foggys head and so one day he gets so fed up with trying to convince foggy he's chill with gay people he just kisses him. wig

hrnnn. matt doesn't like the snow because it messes with his senses and he can't see but he can't say that to foggy so he just says he doesn't like the cold and foggys like "yeah doofus you weigh like three pounds you're skin and bone compared to me smh" and insists on cuddling him every time he sees matt get like That bc he thinks he's just chilly and it's. oddly comforting to matt because yeah. nobody really Holds him like that, and he Is Cold, and foggy is Warm,

matt gets Very touchey around people he's close with and so when he gets close with foggy he puts his arm around him a lot, rests his head on his shoulder, holds his arm even when they're not going anywhere, etc. foggys heart speeds up every time but matt just assumes that's what people hearts do when that happens because he doesn't really do that with anyone else and hey, he's happy when he does it and his heart maybe spikes a little too, but then he gets someone else's arm to lead him when foggys sick one week and their heart stays the exact same, what's up with that? so then he starts paying attention to all the people on campus, and the touching doesn't usually make the hearts go wild, but, well. matt 'sees' it happens and he's like HaHa, See, This is A Thing, and then he realizes that the people that have it happen to them? they're couples. and he just. freezes because first of all, Foggy- and at him- an- and second, his heart ALSO does a thing, so-

heres a rEALLY stupid unrelated au/hc i got after hearing a friends disater story hfdjhskja matt goes on a blind (hehe) date with a girl and it's pretty much a disaster, it turns out she brought her friend who is also meeting a guy at the same place, and like. she's obviously incredibly wack she says blind people are god's mistake and stupid shit like that so matt gets up halfway through their meal to go sit in the bathroom for 20 minutes while he thinks of an excuse to leave? and eventually a guy comes in and he's like 'uh hey, dude, you in here? your date grabbed her friend and left so we're both dateless now, thats a relief for me and unless you're just having incredibly bad bowel movements i think it's pobably one for you since you Have been in here for like half an hour uh im foggy by the way' and then they go back out and sit together and talk about how wack that fuckin was and like. inadvertent date

hey i can talk a lot of shit about how matt falls asleep on foggy but. sometimes foggy falls asleep on or next to or with matt and matt goes !!!! and he does not move and then he eventually falls asleep with foggy head on his shoulder and his head on foggys and when FOGGY wakes up and realizes matts still there and is ALSO asleep he doesn't move and eventually falls back asleep and then it's just like. waiting until the time aligns that they're both awake at the same time because neither wants to move and wake the other send tweet

SOULMATE AU:

foggy looks up from his college bed, sees matt, and suddenly EVERYTHING is fucking rainbow and he's like 'oh fuck. oh shit. wait. this is a dude' and matt's like 'is everything ok my guy?' because foggy's like. >:O and of course he has no idea because he's blind but foggy doesnt realise this and for a hot minute he;s like "OH FUCK. ITS ONE OF THOSE RARE OCASIONS WHERE HES PERFECT FOR ME BUT I'M NOT FOR HIM," and is about to s o b before he's like wait a fucking minute

yknow the au where like. the first words you hear from your soulmate are marked on your skin at birth? foggy's are 'excuse me', absolutley common, a chance meeting, and he stops jumping every single time he hears them after age 8 when he realises just how many times that phrase is said. matt's are 'yeah, who're you looking for,'  but he doesnt remember that, there's no constant reminder of it since he's blind, the nuns wouldn't tell him, the kids made up childish shit like 'poopoo', and stick DEFINITLEY wouldnt fucking tell him because hes stick and hes an asshead and eventually matt stops asking and caring. it takes WEEKS for after they meet for foggy to ask matt about his words and matt just says 'oh yeah, i dont remember. here" and shows foggy and when he sees them he's like. 'hm. sounds familiar' and forgets about it untill like two years later theyre drunk and talking about the first time they met and matt's like 'yeah you asked like 'who'm i looking for and then panicked because i was blind' and foggy's brain just like. short circuits for a whole ass minute and then when it clicks he just goes. "yOU"

TRANS MATT:

matt realises when he's still in the orphanage that mayhaps he hates being not a dude and haha! hes not gonna fucking come out to catholics he knows about That. he tries to tell stick, around the time their closest, and FUCK STICK he refuses to call him anything else or support him becaise stick is a peace of fuck shit FUCK STICK so that scars matt from coming out for a DAMN while so like. when he goes to college he introduces himself to everyone as matt and emails his proffesors like. 'hello please my name is redacted on your forms please call me matt its uh. a nickname' and he's not like. out to anyone but matt is close enought to his deadname that most people don't question it. foggy does, though, a little while after they meet, and matt is so fed up with not telling people and being called the wrong pronouns he just goes 'i want to be a guy ok' and goes absolutley APESHIT when foggy's like 'oh, cool. do you want me to use he pronouns for you' because wait. people are...ok sometimes? and matt's like. about to cry 

 alternatley: matt says "I don't wanna be a girl." and foggy goes "oh hey are you trans? same hat!" and then foggy tells matt like. binding tips and shit and theyre Good ok

deadpool kills transphobes, sm n dd just fucking beat the SHIT out of them in a back alley and like. they let DP know where they are but whatever happens happens :D

elektra, impaling two transphobes onto the side of a building with her knives: matthew, i know you can hear me, why

one day elektra sees matt has dumped a guy on her roof and just. sighs and goes back inside and matt waits for like 15 minutes before halfheartedly picking up the dude and dropping him off at franks.

matt dropped them off at nats One Time and she went apeshit and hunted down like 20 more of them.

foggy, holding a bat: cmon matt let me kill ONE matt: 'fine but if you get caught im not going to be your lawyer.'

INTO THE DEVILVERSE AU:

earth 14512/TRN700 (peni parker’s universe) matt murdock has a robot seeing eye dog who's also a vigilante

hddjdsjdhdn they all show up to earth 6's foggy and he just. sighs and all the devils start crying because He Is Here

hmm ok. canonically we know nothing about miles's matt but we know he exists and is known figure because miles knows of him but doesn't know he's daredevil i'm Prefty Sure so like. i'm gonna say he's just a successful lawyer who has radarsense but never got yoinked away from the orphanage by stick and never got training so like. hemndhdjsjnow the QUESTION is who finds that matt because there's a Very Different outcome depending on if like. murderdock meets him first or the matt from hobopeters universe does

hmm. murderdock comes in first like gwen does but doesn't out himself as competent w like swords and shit. but he OH HES THE OPPOSING FORCE FOR UH A COURT CASE MATT IS IN AND MATT HAS NO IFEA HOW SIMILAR THEY LOOK BECAUSE HES BLIND HRNNNNNHSHDHDHDJ and then matt from HP's universe comes in like HEY YOURE ME RIGHT. what the FUCK i need the laws in this dimension STAT and murderdock ':"sees" him and is like ah fuck. my goose may be uhhh cooked

ok mileses matt is like 'so what brought y'all here??? hhh????  and murderdock sighs and goes well my boss who's not really my boss from MY universe is doing something stupid here and opened a dimensional portal and it could maybe tear the multiverse apart which i guess i'm not stoked about' and matt's like 'who's your boss?' and murderdock begrudgingly says 'wilson fisk' and matt immediatley goes >:O because he's CONSTANTLY defending people who were injured as a result of what fisk and his company do

anyways. matt immediatley rushes to foggys because "foggys my partner, he's helped me deal with fisk, he knows him, he can help," and he swings open the door and like. one of two things happens actually either A: foggy is like matt. MAATT. AHAT IS GOING ON WH. WHY IS THERE A TALKING DEER WEARNING SPANDEX WHO CLIMBED THROIGH MY WINDOW MATT PLEASE HE SAYS HES Y O U or like. matt walks in and deerdevil is playing pattycake with robodog and daredevil noir is incessantly flirting with foggy and when matt comes in foggys like 'hey. i don't know what's going on but i think i'm trading my best friend'

murderdock is like...the cool college student who tells freshies about weed murderdock: so, you don't know how to fight right  matt: no??? i'm blind??? md: but you can kinda see right. matt: yeah like a radar kinda md: normal blind people can't do that you know matt: they wHAT md: you can listen to heartbeats if you try hard enough. you can tell when people are lying matt: i can W H A T md: yeah. what me to teach you how to kill a man matt: W H AT NO IM A L A W Y E R WH

hrnnn the matts in this universe push our matt away to stay with foggy because he doesn't deserve 2 die and you KNOW every matt pushes people away but foggy is like. matt i know you tried it's ok i lov you buddy and he's like HRGGHHHH FUNCK YOU and makes foggy tell him stories untill he can distinguish lies and hide in a place around their office untill matt can like. find him instantly and training montage shit you feel me and he rolls up to the collider in his black pjs like "hello my fellow devil men. i hear you all have no plan. well. i don't either but i'm here" and one matt is like. how did you go-OH YOU DID IT and all the mats high five and cry a littlethey're still reluctant to let matt come help but they're all like. "we're all depressed and suicidal anyways we all have big guilt and if we didn't let him i lnOW he's gonna have big guilt forever he can stay"

THE PENUMBRA PODCAST AU:

foggy is a private eye, kinda depressed a lil bit, and he works w his secretary karen who helps him with tech and stuff because he is god awful at all that 

"mike whatevermaggiesmaidennameis" is an occult specialist from dark matters agency assigned by an agent natasha of dark matters to help him with his current case. 

foggy does NOT want to do this with any damn occultist or whatever the hell but before he can escape mike shows up and god DAMN is he charming and catches him before he can climb out the window, so. that's that for introductions. anyways, hijinks, elektra is cassandra, if you care listen to the murderous mask, anyhoo foggy stars to notice something is kinda weird about matt but brushes it off. they finish investigating and retrieve an important artifact.

it's cold, mike says. sorry dude, all the places near here are closed, foggy says. is your place? mike asks. oh, says foggy they go back to foggys place and maybe make out a little bit, but foggy realizes oh shit, mike just tried to steal the keys to my safe where i stored the artifact, shit, and plaxces him under arrest before he can do anything, and calls the cop cops.

they come to take mike away, and minutes later foggy finds a note, scrawled INCREDIVLY messily, in his pocket. "sorry," it says, "i wasn't tricking you about anything i said, and i meant everything i did. -matt murdock ps. check around, say, X avenue. you may have to do a bit of cleanup." when foggy checks cameras that overview there, he find the officers that took murdock from his apartment hogtied together, and sees their clothes strewn on the ground - forming letters - with love. their car is gone. PODCAST AU:

matt listens to podcasts a lot right and so foggy is like hmm mayhaps this is a good idea. but the type of podcasts they listen to differs so incredibly like matt listens to serial and the wildest one he listens to is probably judge john hodgman whereas foggy listens to shitpost podcasts like mbmbam and can i pet your dog foggy keeps referencing mbmbam around matt because he just assumes that he listens to it and matt is so confused every time and one day foggy says "damn matt you're really horny for this one huh" and matt just snaps and says FOGGY WHAT DO YOU M E AN

so then they are like oh shit you're not listening to the good ones. no YOURE not listening to the good ones. solution?  listen together which means sharing earbuds which means sitting next to eachother on small college bed which means????? cuddling

also eventually they decide fuck it. let's make our own podcast and they combine the mbmbam and jjh format so they get questions and do goofs and stuff and then give actual legal advice but sometimes foggy will be like "ok. here's what you do. you need a cat? go into the pet shelter and take one. what are the gonna do beat you up with their cat toys? didn't think so." and matt starts crying because "Fo g g y WE ARE LAWYERS I KNOW YOURE GOOFING BUT THATS ILLEGAL FOGGY YOI CANT TELL OUR LISTENERS TO GO DO CRIME"

COFFE SHOP AU:

matt has a caffeine addiction and constantly comes to foggys coffee shop and orders one black coffee every morning and foggy eventually is like. hey buddy. do you EVER drink ANYTHING F U N EVER

matts like...no...i need coffee as strong and dark as my soul... and foggys like ok edglelord. wait up i'm about to change your life

foggy makes him a latte that's just a little bit caramelly but not too sweet and he's like here. drink this. no charge you deserve to live a little. also here's your boring edgy coffee you still have to pay me for that one. matt tries it and he's like hmm. not bad, but just not. Good and foggy is like wow fuck you. i'm going to find a good drink for you that isn't this hell water so every morning matt comes in and foggy gives him a black coffee and a free Fun and Cool coffee on the house

matt always is polite even when foggy can tell he DESPISES what foggy made but he's not going to stop untill he finds something god damn it matt

ok anyways they start meeting up more. matt starts taking his breaks in the coffee shop and and foggy hmmm...always seems to have a shift off when matt comes down..hmm. coincidence....hmmm....theo suffers for him by covering all his shifts when matt comes in and he's like well, actually fuck work

eventually foggy is like hey dude. do you wanna test my drinks before they go on the menu or help me perfect my recipes and shit you have a good toungie right (matt goes apeshit, because fuckin FOGGY YOU CABT SAY THAT) but he's like haha yeah. that'd be fun. haha

and then foggy finds out matt is INCREDIBLE at baking when he hands him a cookie and matt goes. hmm. too much flour add a fourth a cup less and a pinch more of saltand he's like??? bitch. i'd like to see you do better. and then matt does

so basically every day foggy closes up a little earlier and lets matt in and they dick around in the kitchen and bake and make coffee and foggys shop gets more and more popular because hey this already really good joint just started selling the most BALLER carrot cAke waht the fucké

anyways fall comes around and foggy is like GUES WHATT ITS TIME FOR WHITE GIRL DRINKS TRY THIS and he gives matt a pumpkin spice latte and matt is like. •.• THIS IS IT. THATS THE ONE

and foggy starts crying MATT PLEASE YOU HAVE TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME. PKEASE MATT, MATT I CANT ADD PSL YEARROUND BECAUSS YOURE A BASIC WHITE BITCH MATT

he bullies foggy into keeping the latte on the menu by threatening to stop helping him bake and foggy is SO OFFENDED, on behalf of good taste everywhere, matt, please,

anyways foggy continues rags on matt for only liking the shittiest fucking drink god damn it matthew fucking hell i make you 3 billion and THIS is the one you pick you disaster and matt is like haha shut up. stoopid

foggy doesn't, and you can guess where this be headed because i'm gay and soft,

matt kisses him and foggys like. ?????????? and matt goes AH FUCK. I COULDNT THINK OF A BETTER WAY TO GET YOU TO SHUT YOUR MOUTH SORRY. GUESS ILL GO and foggy throws cookie dough at him and drags him back over because he's not leaving fuck that. fuck you. and then they're happy and domestic the end

wait i lied matt opens a pro-bono firm in the back of foggy's shop and he gives all his clients freshly baked dessert and coffee and he's so good at being a lawyer and foggy becomes so good @ running his shop that customers keep coming and they're the Cute Gay Couple everyone knows abt and loves

ACCIDENTAL (?) KISSING:

SO. there are so many god damn moments foggy nearly fucking breaks and smooches matt out of sheer unbridled uwu soft feelings. SO MANY. when they win their first mock trial together and matt looks so FUCKING happy and he tells foggy how good they work as a team and foggy is about to lose his mind but he just goes. 'haha yeah' and gives matt a fist bump they finish taking the bar: matt's had to take it in a seperate room, stupid blind accommodations. he finishes first because OF COURSE HE DOES HE'S MATT MURDOCK and the second foggy finishes and leaves the room he sees matt there and he's filled with so many emotions he's about to go apeshit but he manages to contain them JUST enough not to make out with matt on the spot but gives him the tightest fucking hug and matt's like "ok buddy! love you too! please dont break my ribs!" and foggys too happy to notice matt forgot to flinch like he didnt know foggy was coming

Foggy gets the sign to matt and he can tell how fuckin stoked matt is and all he can think about is how grateful he is that the two of them get to work together and fucking do GOOD together and he's trying to express that in his awkward foggy way and he's GOING to kiss him right then and there!! hes about to do it look out world!!! and then matt says "you're NOT going to kiss me" and foggy realises haha YEAH THATD BE A BAD IDEA HUH and jokes it off and gives matt another hug - "i'll be careful not to break the ribs this time, buddy, seems like you've been falling over and hurting yourself enough recently,"-

foggy almost kisses matt out of anger when he finds out he's daredevil, when he won't shut up about how this city needs him and foggy would have done the same and blah, blah, bullshit because maybe then he'd FUCKING listen to him, or at least it'd shut him up, but the honest betrayal he feels - at matt for not telling him and at himself for STILL having a part of him that wants to kiss matt - is enough to get him just to leave : ^)

alright. the gang is watching fisk get carted away and see that SHIT, he's broken out, of course it wasnt going to be this easy. matt puts karen in a taxi goes to run off and foggy grabs him by his coat because MATT. you're not going to go fight fisk in your god damn pajamas right now it's too dangerous you're going to die you stupid son of a bitch idiot

and of course matt doesn't listen, he tells foggy to get back into the car with karen, go to his place, they'll be safe there, and grabs his own taxi

and foggy's left to sit there with karen in the cab as it drives Oh Too Fucking Slowly to matt's, and he's mumbling curses all the way and karen is trying to calm him down, he doesnt know why he's so worried, and all foggy can think about is what if matt dies because i didnt stop him and what if karen never gets to hear it from him and about 10 billion what-ifs that wont leave him the FUCK alone, and he sits next to the windowsill he knows matt comes in through and waits, not even wanting to look at the tv because what if he sees worse news Hrgh

matt beats up fisk and he barely even waits for the cops to get there, he gets one look and confirms 'yup, that's mahoney,' and fucking BOOKS it to his apartment, he climbs through the window and foggy's just sitting there waiting, karens in the next room watching the broadcast at a 3 minute delay on her phone, matt doesnt have a tv hes BLIND >:,\

and when matt comes in, bloody and beaten up and doing That Panting Thing He Does, but definitley alive, foggy just fucking. grabs him by the shoulders and kisses him because HE IS A L I V E !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and matt is suprised but he doesnt even try to protest because he's still riding the adrenaline from the fight

anyways. foggy pulls away for air and says 'you're so fucking stupid and i hate you' and then matt kisses hIM because uhh, thats FOGGY

and it's a minute later that matt senses another heartbeat and realizes karen's standing in the doorway, and she raises an eyebrow and obviously trying not to panic asks 'uh, foggy, pray tell, buddy, why you're making out with the devil in matt's bedroom' and foggy goes apeshit and tries to think of an excuse that doesn't invole 'uh thats matt' but it just kinda comes out as some stupid shit like 'i,,, uh,,,,, secret,...affair,,?i',m....gay." and matt just sighs and pulls off his helmet like "hey karen. it's me. hey karen whats poppin its me blind matt murdock" and needless to say they all have a Lot to talk abt

DRUNK KISSING:

so like. the first year they're together matt and foggy go out a lot, and it's mostly foggy dragging matt places and matt reluctantly coming because A) if someone doesnt watch foggy this idiot is going to puke and pass out in a ditch and B) he really like his company shh. no telling because that gay

anyways matt usually only drinks a little but foggy is mad lightweight right. he doesn't get shitfaced too often, usually only after exams or when he knows he has no classes the next day. when he does get shitfaced though he absolutley loses his shit and becomes even more touchy than usual, which is VERY TOUCHY because fuck you its my au and i get to choose the default affection levels

so basically. once foggy starts hugging matt and leaning on him and whining into his shirt about the 'hot girls' and 'killer nachos' at the party matt knows it's time to head home and foggy is too busy wrapping his arms around matt to notice he's being dragged out untill its too late

and y'know, thats fine, that's usual, all normal friend stuff, except what foggy also has a tendancy to do when he's drunk is kiss matt. sometimes its on his cheeks, or his forehead, or his shirt?? matt doesnt get that one??? and sometimes foggy even tries to go for the lips when hes particularly wilde. matt knows to expect this by the third time they go out, but it's still always a suprise when it happens, because sometimes it'll be out of nowhere when theyre walking back, or foggy'll stop matt and grab his cheeks and kiss him? sometimes they'll get all the way back to the dorm and matt will make foggy lie down and foggy will grab his shirt and pull him close enough to give him a quick peck before rolling over and promptly beggining to snore

which, y'know, is absolutley great for a maybe-gay-for-his-best-friend-catholic. what's also great is that foggy never seems to remember the fact he kissed matt the night before, and if he does, he definitley does NOT bring it up

so that's fine. whatever. thats life and matt will pretend like he doesnt care when foggy gives him a smooch because hes straight and loves girls and jesus christ, no homo, amen

but THEN. . then matt and foggy have been studying for exams for weEKS and theyre FINALLY DONE, FINALLY, and they are both going to get wasted out of their mINDS you better BELIEVE IT

so they do! and eventually they stumble back to their dorm together and sit together on the floor with a half-downed bottle of tequila and matt decides fuck it. he tells foggy he's never kissed a guy and foggy is like "haha cool. i have." matt's like "haha was it good" and foggys like "hell yeah man better than girls" so matts like hmm. "foggy i think i want to kiss a guy" and you can guess where this is goin

foggy is an oblivious little shit and just thinks matt's having a gay awakening so he's like "oh cool" and matt starts vibrating at inhuman frequency because FOGGY THIS IS THE ONE TIME I"M BASICALLY ASKING YOU TO DRUNK KISS ME AND YOU D O N T" so he just goes "haha yeah." and foggy's like "haha yeah"

and then matt chugs the bottle of tequila and says "foggy i think i wanna kiss you" and then he does but he's a good christian and also stupid so he just like. goes mwah on foggy's cheek

and foggy stares at him for like 15 seconds before basiclly challenging him to 'kiss him like a man, murdock, how are you supposed to get the gay experience if you dont go all in' and then they make out for like 20 minutes and life is good

(they both wake up w the worst fucking hangovers and theyre passed out on the floor and matt's like "foggy....im gay..." and foggys like "haha do you remember i kissed you" and matts like "????foggy i kissed YOU" and foggys like "oh yeah you did. you should have done that earlier" and matts says "????you were too busy trying to kiss me" and foggy goes "oh haha i was. cool" and then they fall back asleep...then they.....boyfriend.s)

FLOWER SHOP/TATTOO ARTIST AU:

so. matt is a florist and he runs a little shop across the street from an empty piece of real estate. a tiny place that used to be a deli but had just the WORST sandwiches, it was no wonder they closed down, god damn. anways. matt runs his shop with his best friends kirsten and karen who have IMPECCABLE taste in flowers and less impeccable taste in impulse control and not being huge lesbians.

one day this dude pulls up into matt's shop. his request is maybe the strangest matt's ever heard - 'can you get me two bouquets of like, the most metal flowers you have? like, ones that just look super cool but also, yknow, smell super good and sick and shit?' 

matt laughs, and tells the guy that yeah, he can't help with the looks part, but he'll make sure to get him some that smell 'quote' sick and shit, come back tomorrow morning and they'll have some ideas-hey, what are these for anyways?

and the guy tells him, oh, hah, i'm moving in across the street, opening a little tattoo place? wanted some flowers to make it seem more, uhh....welcoming. matt laughs and says yeah, sure, cool, and tells him if he has anymore questions to call the store and ask for matt. the guy tells him if he ever wants a tattoo just cross the street and ask for foggy and unless the flowers matt gives him really suck he won't do him dirty and tattoo a dick on him

so anyways, they have a couple meetings, foggy decides on the flowers he wants and thanks matt and tells him hey, he should come check out the shop, it's opening tomorrow, and foggy wants to be able to point to the guy who did the sick florals. matt doesnt have anything better to do and he likes the sound of this guy's voice so hell, he might as well

when he goes over matt realizes oh shit. he really is out of his element here, but he asks the guy at the counter for 'foggy' and is led over to  a corner where foggy's sitting and tattooing...himself? and matt realizes hey. i kind of have no idea what this dude looks like

so he sorta. sits there awkwardly untill he asks like. 'uh. i cant actually see what youre doing' and foggy goes OH IM SO FUCKING STUPID. i'm. man, saying this out loud seems kinda really stupid and cheesy i cant believe i have to do this...i'm....it's one of the flowers in the bouquet you made me....i just thought it looked really neat and smelled good and it....kinda reminds me of you and OK i KNOW that sounds really weird we met like 4 days ago BUT you seem super cool and i kinda hope we can maybe like. be friends or hang out or something,

and matt's like. o//////o yeah okay. uh. thats cool. thats cool uh im sure the flower is really pretty haha i love that type haha UH DO YOU WANT TO GET LUNCH OR SOMETHING haha maybe ill get a flower tattoo one day its pretty cool that you do tattoos UH IM FREE TOMOROW WAIT MAYBE THATS TOO SOON IM SORRY UH IM FREE WEDNESDAYS,

and foggy just kinda laughs and says 'no, tomorrow works,' and hey! they make plans and get coffee together and matt's like so. what tattoos do you have and foggy starts listing a bunch and eventually matt's like :( i wish i could see them they sound beautiful and foggy's like. here. heres my arm can i. yeah ok. and he grabs matts ar,m and he's like ok. feel the skin, its still a little raised can you feel that? ok, run your fingers over here and i can like. tell you wjats there

cue like an hour of sensual arm touching and tattoo explaining and the more matt learns about foggy and his tattoos and the more he hears the way he talks the more he's like A) oh fuck, i kinda really like this guy whos letting me feel up his arms and B) do i want a tattoo? i kind of want a tattoo

anyways. time jump they hang out a bit more, foggy always comes into matt's shop and talks to him in between customers, shows him the patterns he's designing, etc, and one day he comes in with a paper that has a design of some flowers on it and shows it to matt and as he's running his fingers across it he stops and says 'foggy? will you do this to me'

and foggys like 'bud are you sure? first tattoo, right, do you-are you really sure you want to do this, like, when, and wh" and matt's like 'shut up and put this ink in my skin before i chicken out' so matt sits through a PAINFUL ASS TATTOO and when it's done he's like FOGGY CAN I TOUCH IT CAN I TOUCH IT FOGGY CAN I TOUCH IT and foggy has to physically restrain matt from fondling his tattoo because its FRESH MATT

so foggys like 'ok, this is cause for celebration! babys first ink! we;re getting beers cmon' and they both go out to drink and matt's like 'hey foggy...can i touch more of your tattoos' and foggy's like 'uh, sure, i have another armfull,' and they do that for a while untill matt gets to the one foggy did the first time he visited foggy's tattoo parlor and foggy's like hah. remember this one? and matt's like yeah. i do. and they kinda just. sit there for a minute and then foggy's like 'ok. im gonna kiss you now punch me if you hate this, flowerboy' and matt absolutley does not punch him, thank you very much

and when they finish having their moment matt's like 'wow. i shoulda....i shoulda asked to feel you up again way sooner if i knew you were gonna do that' and foggy's like 'hey...i'd let you feel me up anytime' and they both kind of laugh and decide ok, worm, this works, and decide theyre gonna do that more often

they start to go out for drinks / dinner / lunch / any time they possibly can, and matt learns the curvature of foggys (suprisingly muscley?) arms down to a t, but he runs out of space to run his fingers over one night, and foggy kisses him and says 'hey. i've got more tattoos, y'know, but i don't think many people would appreciate it if i showed them off to you here' and matt is like 'wh-O H'

and foggy laughs and drags him to his apartment and pulls of his shirt and says 'ok, we're alone now. tell me what you feel' and matt sits on the bed in front of him and theres lots of sensual chest stroking going on and then yeah. matt gets fed up with all this touching foggy and not enough of foggy touching him and. they fuck oopsie

and after that they decide worm. that was good, wanna do that more often, holy shit, and decide to actually date date and thats like. thats that babey!

but years later they open a joint shop, an absolute mess of soft/punk aesthetics and everyone knows them because matt is still a soft florist who just has a fewwwww dozen flowers inked all over him and foggy is the punk god who flexes his sleeves all over town but flexes his soft boyfriend husband even more tHE END

#long post #mattfoggy #hcs

[nerdy-nonbinary]

Carry That Weight

The hardest part, she soon realized, was finding the moment to say it. It wasn’t like she and Midoriya were close or anything, though they weren’t strangers like they had been before. But he had his friends, and she had hers, and even in the occasional moments they’d had together alone, it’s not like she could just say, “Hey, can I talk to you about my gender problems?”

Jirou’s brain has been abuzz constantly since that day. Sure, she had heard of being transgender before, but it always seemed so distant from her own reality. And yes, she had always hated her chest a bit more than what seemed to be normal, but she’d always brushed it aside, chalking it up to jealousy over other girls for her small chest. It also explained why she stared at the girls in her middle school too much. It was just jealousy, right?

Looking back, she felt so stupid at how long it took her to realize she was gay. She wore her lesbian identity with pride now, especially with the purple pervert out of the way. She had everything she’d wanted in middle school. Accepting friends, a massive crush on a certain class rep that may or may not be requited, and a place where, if that crush ever went anywhere, she wouldn’t have to live in fear. She thought she’d be happy.

But there was a tiny itch in the back of her brain, one that latched on and refused to let go. Some days, it was barely there, and she thought she was finally past the confusion that had set in, but other days, every “she” and “girls” and brush of her uniform against her knees left her screaming in her head, and she was almost certain she was developing insomnia with the way she put off going back to the girls’ dorm some nights.

Tonight was one of those nights. She had resigned herself to another day of coffee-powered torture, and plugged herself into her phone, hoping some music would calm her nerves enough to let her zone out. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you looked at it), she wasn’t alone that sleepless night.

Midoriya was sitting inches from the TV, notebook in hand, furiously writing notes on a hero who had made their debut that day. Their power was something having to do with sand. Turning into it? Controlling it? She hadn’t been paying attention, but she heard Midoriya’s pencil furiously scratching down notes, determined to put all his thoughts on the paper. She realized he had been sitting there for several minutes, unmoving except for his hand and the occasional glance at the screen. It was a bit unnerving, honestly.

“Might want to get back a bit. Sitting too close can hurt your eyes, you know,” She called out.

Midoriya shouted, leaping back from his spot at the TV. “AH! Oh, uh, hey, Jirou. Sorry, kinda forgot there was someone else here.”

“It got you away from the TV, at least.” She absentmindedly patted the couch next to her. “Want a seat? It’s probably more comfortable than the floor.”

“Oh, yeah, thanks.” Midoriya sat next to her, and she could feel his anxiety shooting through the air.

“Dude, you don’t have to be so nervous. It’s just a couch, it’s not gonna bite you.”

“Ha ha, yeah,” he laughed halfheartedly, but she could tell there was something else he wanted to say. “Say, Jirou, could I ask you something?”

She panicked, a little bit. She hoped he hadn’t caught her discomfort (dysphoria? She wasn’t sure if she could call it that). If it had really been that obvious, she’d flip, but since he was trans, he may have been more in tune with the signs. She prayed it was that latter, and braced herself for his question.

“Could you give me some music recommendations?”

“Huh?” She was not expecting that.

“I mean, it’s no surprise you the most musically inclined in the class, and you listen to music on your phone a lot, so I thought you’d be able to help.”

“Yeah, sure,” She replied. “So, what kind of music do you listen to?”

“Uhhh… none?”

Jirou’s jaw dropped. “Wait. You’re telling me you’ve gone all sixteen years of your life without ever hearing a single song?”

“No, not like that! Of course I’ve heard music! I just mean, I’ve never really gone out of my way to listen to any. I’ve just heard whatever others have been playing. So, I guess I just wanna find music I actually want to listen to. I just have no idea where to start.”

Jirou’s heart stopped hammering against her chest. She understood people led different lives, but life without music? She couldn’t imagine. “Okay. Do you have any idea of what kind of music you might like? Genre, instrument, hell, even language. Just give me a jumping off point.”

Midoriya thought for a long moment. “I guess… I like guitar, electric especially. And I think there’s a band who I’ve heard a few songs from and enjoyed. They were British, and listening to English music is fun, especially when it helps you learn the language. They had something to do with bugs…”

“The Beatles?”

“Yeah, those guys! Could you show me their music?”

“Which kind? Their early, cheesy love songs? Their mellow ballads? Their psychedelic sitar stuff?”

Midoriya shrugged. “I don’t know. All of it? There can’t be that much, they weren’t together for very long.”

Jirou stared, then smiled a devious grin. “Honey, you’ve got a big storm coming.”

—–

“What the fuck was that?!?”

“I know, right? You think you’re prepared, but nothing can prepare you for Revolution 9.”

“God, I’m going to hear that chanting in my nightmares for weeks.” Midoriya shuddered. Suddenly, something fell over on a table behind them, and he turned around. “Hello?”

A quiet voice whispered in his ear. “Number nine, number ni-“

“Ahhhh!!! Jirou!” He pushed her away, and she fell over laughing. “God, I can’t believe that scared me. I’ve fought villains, for God’s sake!”

“Even veterans like me get the chills, my student. Now, kneel.” Midoriya stared at her with a confused look. “I said, kneel!”

“Fine, fine,” he gave her a questioning grin before relenting, getting off the couch and kneeling before her, his head bowed. She grabbed her phone and began to play Hey Jude, then held it out like a sword. “By the powers vested in me by our lords and saviors Lennon, McCartney, Harrison, and Starr, May they rest in peace, I now dub thee a true Beatles fan.” She tapped his shoulders and head with her phone before they both fell over, trying to muffle their laughs from their sleeping classmates, who must have been cursing their 2 AM rampage.

Midoriya wipes tears from his eyes, catching his breath as he climbed back on the couch. “God, Jirou, I wish we’d hung out before this. I never knew you had such a great sense of humor!”

“I reserve it for friends. Everyone else gets my leftover dredges of sarcasm.”

“Wow, I used to be so afraid to talk to girls like you. Did you know I was proud of myself for just mumbling to Uraraka on the day of the entrance exams?”

“Ha ha, wow…” She tried to feign laughter, but being called “girl” again just sucked all the energy out of her. It wasn’t even his fault, and still she just felt empty. What was wrong with her head?

“Is something wrong, Jirou?” Shit. He’s picked up on it.

“Ah, it’s nothing,” she tried to steer the focus away from her discomfort. “I’ve just been thinking about stuff.”

“Wait. Is it because I said girl?” Why did he have to be so damn perceptive? “Oh my god, Jirou, are you trans?” Now what was she gonna say? “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know, so you have another name, well I call you your last name, but still should I-“

“Stop!” Her world was spinning, and she couldn’t control her voice. Everything was out of her control. She felt herself falling, falling. She had to grab something. “No, I’m not a boy.” She dangled from a small ledge by one hand.  “But I don’t know if I’m a girl either.” Two hands up. “I don’t want to bother you, I don’t want you to feel like you’re the class’s “trans messiah”, here to teach us all of the complexities of gender or anything.” Shit. Her sarcasm made her fingers slip, she was about to plummet into oblivion.

Suddenly, a hand caught her, just as she was about to fall. She looked into a pair of startling green eyes. “I’m here if you want to talk, Jirou. I don’t mind.”

“Okay…” Jirou was hesitant. She wasn’t used to sharing things so openly. She was barely at this point with Yaoyorozu, her best friend, yet Midoriya gave off this vibe that just made her feel safe. He really was meant to be a hero. “I’m not really sure what it is. I’ve never really liked my chest, but I always just assumed it was because I was jealous of all the other girls in my school having bigger ones than me. I always stared at them too long, but I brushed it off as jealousy, you know? Turns I was just very, very gay, and there were a lot of really pretty girls at my school.” Midoriya laughed, and Jirou felt a bit more tension lift from her shoulders. She smiled. “But after what happened with… him, I haven’t stopped thinking about it. Some days it’s barely there, and other days being called a girl makes me want to tear my hair out and scream.” She suddenly became quiet. “That’s why I’m out here tonight. I couldn’t bear to go back to the “girls” dorm, when it felt so wrong. I just don’t know what I am anymore.”

They sat in silence, Midoriya processing everything she had said. Jirou was about to make a break for it, resigning herself to a night of discomfort, when Midoriya asked, “Jirou, have you ever heard of being ‘nonbinary’?”

“No, should I have?”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant. Being nonbinary means you aren’t a boy or a girl. Or, at least fully.”

Jirou stared in disbelief. “Wait a second. I don’t have to pick one?”

“Of course not, no more than I have to be the gender I was assigned. Here, this is a good starting point.” He hands her his phone, open to a webpage titled “Beyond the Binary”. He watched her scroll through the page in awe. After a few minutes, she handed it back to him.

“Holy shit,” she said. “I think I’m nonbinary.”

“Congrats!”

“Wait, can I be nonbinary and a lesbian? I’m still female-aligned, I think, so am I misusing it? Or does it not count cause I’m not really a girl? Do I have to find a new name for that, too?” Jirou had found so much comfort in her lesbian identity. She wasn’t sure she could give that up. Luckily, it didn’t seem she had to.

“No, you can be nonbinary and a lesbian, if that’s what makes you feel comfortable. Do you want me to keep using she pronouns? Or something else?”

Jirou thought for a moment. “I don’t mind she and her, I don’t think, but… could you try they/them as well?”

“Sure! Here, I’ll try them out. This is my friend Jirou, they’re in my class at school and they made me listen to some really fucked up music tonight.”

“Shut up!” They shoved him off the couch, laughing until their bellies ached, and they realized, for the first time in a long time, they were content with who they were. Who they are. They were nonbinary, they were gay, they were a hero in training, and they were laughing their head off with a new-found friend at 2 AM. Everything finally felt right.

#boku no hero academia #bnha #my hero academia #mha #jirou kyouka #midoriya izuku #trans guy Izuku Midoriya #trans Izuku Midoriya #trans character #nonbinary character #nonbinary Jirou Kyouka #nonbinary headcanon #trans bnha #my own post #Me: *writing a fic about a nonbinary person who likes girls really liking the beatles* #Me?? Projecting?? No way

[ollie-oxen-free]

#66 Spicyhoney

its been a while since ive done fluff lol. these two are both shits to each other, in the sweet gay way

“Out of bed.”

Stretch opened his eyes with a snort, blinking his vision into clarity as the blur of sleep slowly lifted from his eyes. In the hazy darkness around him, Stretch made out two distinct pinpricks of deep red piercing the black veil around him. A noise burbled up from the back of his throat, panicked and starting to crescendo, and if the gloved hand didn’t shoot out from the darkness to cover his mouth then a scream surely would have followed suit.

“Hush or you’ll wake Blue.”

Stretch blinked a few more times, tired mind connecting the dots between the dark red gaze and the voice, helpfully supplying that hey, it was Fell at about the same time that the other shifted back a bit, the dim moonlight streaming through his window illuminating his figure. He pushed himself up, hand swiping down his face with the dull scrape of bone on bone before he reached an arm out, shoving the body beside him back halfheartedly, more than a little miffed.

“What do you want, Fell?” He hissed quietly, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention. If Blue was still asleep when his brother insisted on being up at the ass crack of dawn to get a start on the day, then it was too fucking early for Stretch himself to even consider not falling back into the gracious arms of sleep.

The other just smirked. “You seem agitated. Is something wrong?”

Stretch took in a slow breath, dim eyelights flicking over to the alarm beside his bed, the numbers on it proudly showing that is was 3:39 in the fucking morning. What the fuck. What the fuck. He turned his glare to Fell, lifting his hand up to flip him off, turning his back on the other and flopping down into the pillows once more. It had been too long for him to slip back into the sweet embrace of unconsciousness, and he made a distressed noise, tearing up at the realization.

Fell only chuckled at his reaction, and Stretch tried to ignore how even in his time of distress the noise was comforting. No way in hell was he gonna stoke the other’s ego any higher. He shifted, turning back to face Fell. “You’re a terrible fucking boyfriend.”

“I can live with that. Get up.”

Obviously tired of waiting, Fell grabbed the edge of his comforter, starting to yank it off the bed. With a frustrated huff Stretch latched on, getting pulled off with it and landing on the floor with a dull thud. When he made no move to get up after that Fell rolled his eyes, nudging him with his boot.

“Jesus didn’t die for this.”

Fell hummed, bending over and pushing an arm under his back and legs, picking him up with a grunt. Stretch cursed, legs kicking as he scrambled to grasp onto the other as he was carried uncaringly over to his closet and dropped on the floor. “And I didn’t wake you up this early for nothing. Now put on some pants and shoes so we can go.”

With a start, Stretch realized that, oh yeah, he slept in boxers and a tank top. He made on embarassed noise, waving the other away as he scrambled into a pair of pants, sliding his bare feet into a pair of shoes and yanking a hoodie off the floor before standing. Fell was watching him with a stupid half-amused smile on his stupid handsome face, one brow raised and arms crossed over his chest.

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, you know.” Stretch just lifted his hand, putting his middle finger about an inch in front of Fell’s face as he walked past, cursing the heat on his face.

As he yanked on his hoodie, he turned to face Fell. “Care to tell me why you woke me up at butt fuck in the morning?”

“It’s a surprise,” he said, before walking to the open window, gesturing outside with an expectant look on his face. When Stretch didn’t move, he sighed. “It’s a time sensitive surprise. If you don’t wish to come then just say so.”

Stretch was a few seconds away from flopping back in bed with a tactical “fuck you” when he noticed just how tense Fell seemed, staring deliberately out the window with his arms crossed over his chest, fingers tapping on the bones of his arm. He sighed. “If this surprise becomes a regular thing then you’re never allowed at our house again.”

Fell smirked, climbing out the window and standing just outside, looking in. “Deal.”

Stretch gave one last longing look at his bed before following after, taking up step just beside Fell as they rounded the house, making their way down the sidewalk. A slight chill was in the air and Stretch huffed out a breath, watching as the cloud made its way up to the sky before dissipating. “So, what’s the surprise?”

He yawned, shaking his head after before taking a step closer to Fell.

“If I told you, then it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

Stretch grumbled, but fell silent regardless, looking around the very unfamiliar area that they were walking. “Uh, Fell? Do you have any fucking idea where we are?”

“Yes.”

Nothing else was said. Stretch took a step closer, looking around the area suspiciously. It definitely wasn’t a nice neighbourhood, from the little he could see of it in the dark, and the situation filled him with unease. There were even a few reputable dog breeds that he could see sleeping inside of some fenced in yards. The kind of neighbourhood that murders happened in, he reminded himself.

“Fell?” A hum. “If I die, I’m never speaking to you again.”

“That’s fair, I suppose.”

Stretch nodded, glad the two of them were on the same page, as he turned to face forward once more. Whatever garbage trek that Fell was taking him on had better lead to one hell of a surprise. Or maybe some solid makeouts. That would be fine too.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Fell fiddling with a small metal puzzle, shifting the pieces around and pulling them apart before putting them back together. The silence was almost peaceful, now that they had left behind the more unsavory houses and were walking through a nearby park. Fell must have taken him on a back route to get to it.

And then Fell reached over, grabbing his arm and starting to pull him double-time towards a bench, jaw shifted in the way that it did when he was trying to hold back a grin. Stretch held back a sigh, grunting when Fell pushed him back onto the bench with more force than was probably necessary. The other sat down beside him, pulling his glove back to look at his watch before straightening with a smirk on his face. An arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, and he debated the utter cheesiness of the action he wanted to perform before shrugging, tilting his head to rest on the other’s shoulder.

Not that it wasn’t great and all, but Stretch wouldn’t exactly say that the closeness was entirely worth being awake when the rest of the sane world was asleep. Just as he was about to say so, the sun started to rise, stretch across the sky in a yawning pink and orange, colors mixing together as it slowly became brighter. He smiled, squinting as the light filtered into his eyes. Blue always loved seeing the stars, but honestly? In his opinion nothing had quite the same beauty as a sunrise or sunset.

Fell shifted, and Stretch turned to look just in time for a gentle kiss to be pressed against his teeth, soft and sweet. He hummed as Fell pulled away, warmth blossoming in his chest at the genuine smile on the other’s face. The warmth quickly died at the word out of his mouth.

“Happy anniversary, love.”

He sat up, pushing away from the other’s side as he remembered the date. Their one year anniversary. Fuck, he’d completely fucking forgotten in his earlier annoyance at being yanked out of bed, god he was the absolute worst at literally everything. Fell snickered, like he could hear the current line of thought running through his head.

“Relax. I woke you up that early to do this specifically so you wouldn’t be able to pull anything on me.”

“Cheater,” he muttered, shifting back into his side. A rumbling chuckle came from the chest beside him and he rolled his eyes at Fell’s amusement. He’d get the other back. Later, though, once the sunset was over and he made up for his lost sleep with a ten hour nap.

#spicyhoney #100 follower special #that Gay Shit #uf papyrus #us papyrus #i just like fluff #not the best #but here you go #my writing #pterosaursinspace

[sparkly-butthole-on-ao3]

Family Ties

This was written for the @meflashfanwork August Theme: Family

Thank you @ellebeedarling for reading over!

“We could have a baby, you know. Of our own DNA and everything.” Kaidan’s charcoal voice sings in the cool night air, making Shepard shiver. His voice is soft now, in a way it never was during the war. He’s aged like a fine whiskey, Shepard thinks.

“Like, grown in a dish? The experimental ones?”

“Heh, no. Like an actual baby.”

“The artificially grown babies are actual babies, Kaidan.”

Kaidan glares halfheartedly. “You know what I mean.”

“Uh-huh. And who would carry it?”

“Call me crazy, but I might just have an idea.”

Kaidan whispers in Shepard’s ear, then gives him a conspiratorial wink. Good thing, too, because out in public, the paparazzi go crazy for the pair. If it ever got back to her that way… John shivers again, this time out of fear.

“Yes, you’re crazy. Jesus, Kaidan.”

“I don’t mean we’d do it do it, just artificial insemination. I mean, unless you wanted to like, watch or something… she’s pretty gorgeous. In an absolutely ‘this woman could kill you’ kind of way. Which might be even sexier than the non-lethal way, now that I think about it.” Kaidan wiggles his eyebrows, eyes alight with mischief.

Shepard’s not sure what to do with that.

“Kaidan Alenko.”

“Hey, ass. My name is Kaidan Shepard-Alenko, and you better not forget it.” He leans in for a kiss and Shepard doesn’t deny him. It seems to mollify Shepard a bit.

“It’s not that I wouldn’t… I mean, I’m gay, Kaidan.”

Kaidan laughs heartily. “I’m aware, John.”

“Okay then. But yeah… maybe. If it’s something she’d want.”

“Won’t hurt to ask, will it?”

“I don’t know, she wasn’t known as the psychotic biotic for no reason,” he whispers, so as not to alert any nearby paparazzi.

“Point.”

6 months later

Kaidan sits outside the clinic, propped up on the side of the concrete fountain, looking pensive. Looking like an old fashioned statue from back on Earth, more like, or at least he would if he were naked. His husband takes a second to appreciate the view before he approaches and sits hip to hip with him.

“You aren’t getting cold feet, are you?”

“What? No, no, of course not. It’s just…” Kaidan trails off, gesticulating.

“It’s a big deal?”

“Yeah. Exactly. I mean, what if I mess this kid up?”

“Pfft. You? Now be honest here, which one of us is bound to mess a kid up? You, with the fine family background and stable home life, or me… the crazy colony kid who wouldn’t know how to sit still even while injured if it wasn’t for his extremely stable and patient husband?”

“Are you kidding? You’re… perfect, John. ‘s why everyone in the galaxy wishes they were me.”

Shepard swings an arm around Kaidan and pulls him close. “Kaidan, you’re an idiot. Most of the galaxy wishes they were me, just so they could get close to you. And your rockin’ ass.”

Their each roll their eyes at the other. Jack walks out of the clinic carrying a little blue ball of lightning, a warning to the two of them that if they don’t get their asses in the clinic, shit might get violent.

“Hey, don’t you guys wuss out on me now. Not after I took all those fertility drugs just so I could carry this thing.”

Shepard smiles brightly, which just deepens her scowl. “We’re coming. Kaidan here’s just worried he’ll be a terrible dad. The usual, you know. Pre-family jitters and all that.”

“Well then, tell him he can be the mom.” She sticks her tongue out at them and walks back the way she came. Kaidan’s jaw drops as he watches her walk away, and John can barely hold in the laughter.

“John, did she just-?”

“Yes, Kaidan, she did just. C’mon, let’s get in there. We’re gonna have a baby, do you realize how amazing that is?”

“Heh, yeah.” Kaidan smiles, big and bright and everything John ever wants to see until the day he dies. “Yeah, it’s amazing. I’m ready.”

They walk into their future hand in hand, just as they’ve always done and will always do.

#fanfiction #my fanfiction #mshenko

[askthenewhopespeak]

"Alright, so, uh...where are we supposed to start?" Natalie asked, putting her phone back away. "You said this is where she would be."

"Yell her name as loud as you can, I don't fucking know," Daichi shrugged. "It said she'd be here, but I'm not exactly her family. I don't know where she's at exactly. We're just going to have to look around."

Natalie sighed, nodding. "I mean, might as well try yelling, right? RED! RED EYES! I'M-NOT-QUITE-SURE-WHAT-YOUR-GIVEN-NAME-IS-BUT-YOU-GAVE-ME-A-GUN-SO-THANKS! ARE YOU OUT HERE? OR DID YOU LEAVE YOUR PHONE HERE LIKE A DUMBASS?"

Daichi snorted. "That should be loud enough that anyone in a ten-mile radius could hear you." He pointed in one direction. "I'm gonna check there. I'll tell you, if I see anything."

Natalie rolled her eyes. "I'll check over here," she pointed in the opposite direction,"and you'll probably hear me screaming at her."

"Alright... uh... scream louder if she just decides to kill you or something. I don't know what your relationship is like," Daichi shrugged before walking off.

Natalie nodded. "RED! REEEED!" She started calling, walking in the direction she pointed to. She shivered a bit, rolling her sleeves down.

"Need a jacket?" One hit Natalie in the back of the head. "I stole one to replace the piece of crap I stole earlier."

Natalie whipped around, picking up the jacket and putting it on. She grinned, shaking her head. "Thanks. So, uh, I assume you've got a new boss like Daichi-kun here, so...you going to go ruin things for him? Because I've always got a room you could hide out in."

"Heh, I might actually take you up on the offer... I mean, I'm not really doing anything except hanging around near Kamukura... and the guy drives me fucking crazy. Never wants to talk or anything, he just broods." Red rolled her eyes, then frowned slightly.

Natalie chuckled. "Yeah, the guy always gave me a weird vibe. Like he was always planning 156 ways to kill you and make it look like an accident. But...uh...if you're gonna take me up on that offer, I should probably get the guy with the keys to get over here," she said, cupping her hands around her mouth. "DAICHI-CHAN, GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE! I FOUND HER!"

Daichi jumped. "FUCKING HELL, NATALIE," the man shouted back. He ran over to where she had yelled at him. "So, you found Red, huh?" He walked up slowly, closing his eyes and rubbing at the back of his neck."Well, uh greetings and salutations the-," he said, pausing as he saw Red.

"..." Red didn't say a word, but her eyes widened in shock.

guess who bitch-Last Thursday at 12:43 PM

Natalie raised an eyebrow. "Do you two, uh, know each other? Exes or something? Like...the car ride back is gonna be super awkward if you're exes."

Daichi freezed, staring at Red in shock. "Oh god no, we're not... we're not exes. It's just... Saki, I thought you were dead," Daichi finally said.

"Yeah. I did my best to make you think that." 'Red' closed her eyes. "Nat... I guess you already know my big brother..."

Natalie choked. "I- what? I'm sorry? Brother? Listen, I totally get family issues or whatever, but- brother? You're telling me this asshole is your big brother? Oh my God."

Daichi grimaced. "I cant believe you're dating my sister. My supposedly dead sister." He shot a glare at Saki. "I don't know whether to be relieved or pissed to see you."

"Well, to be fair, I never planned on having a meeting like this... ever." Saki closed her eyes and sighed. "I haven't even used my freaking name in years..."

Natalie sighed. "I'm not sure if I should keep calling you Red, or Saki, or- what level are we on? And, more importantly, what name are you using? Like- I know you were laying low for a reason, but now it's kinda out there, so..."

"I wasn't using a name, and I could care less either way." Saki shrugged.

Daichi rubbed at his forehead, hiding his grim expression behind his hand. He wondered if this is how his mom felt. "So... Saki. You're one, not dead and two, a despair... You've got to be fucking kidding me."

Natalie grinned. "I mean, hey. We're all a bunch of despairs that are presumably dead to most people, right?"

"More like I'm being paid to help out some people. I'm not one of the 'Oh my god despair turns me on' type of people. Storm had blackmail material on me, and his kid... well, she's paying me lots."

Daichi took a deep breath, dragging his hand back through his hair. "So, that's one thing figured out. Here's another question: Why the hell did you fake being dead?"

"Well, I stole the holograph tech and people wanted it back, so i did the noble thing and sacrificed myself to save my family, all that crap. Plus, being a mercenary is so much easier without family ties." Saki shrugged, as if what she was discussing was no big deal.

Daichi snorted. "And there goes the relieved feeling I felt when I saw you..." He paused, looking her up and down for any injuries. "Still, you haven't fucked up lately right? No injuries?"

"Nope. I know when to stay on my employer's good sides... and when the right moment is to double cross them." Saki smirked.

Daichi snorted again, a wry smile spreading across his face. "Figures you would," he said. He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.

Natalie shuffled uncomfortably. "So...we heading back and sneaking you in or...?" She asked, trying to clear the tension.

"I mean... theoretically I could just walk up to the front gates... nobody there's seen my face... well, besides the kid and everyone with her, but it's not like they're likely to spill..." Saki pointed out.

Natalie shrugged halfheartedly."That's fair. So...uh...Daichi-kun, you driving? Or do you need to like...clear your head?"(edited)

"I... I'm fine, Natalie, it's weird, and I'm still pissed, and I'm about to start rambling... but it is good to see you Saki," Daichi shrugged. "Let's just go back to the car before I ask to hug you or something."

"Please, let's."

Natalie sighed in relief, smiling a bit. "So...I'm gonna assume you two have stuff to talk out later but, uh, first let's get back. Are you going to need clothes?"

"I mean, I got stuff at the place I was hanging out... I'll just run by there later, it isn't far."

"Cool, cool. You don't want to just drop by on the way?" Daichi asked.

"I mean, guess we could... you're the driver, up to you."

"We'll drop by then," he said. "It wont be a problem. So, c'mon, let's head to the car."

Natalie nodded, waiting for him to leave before looking over to Red. "Hey, you good? I know this is kinda...weird for you. Do you need a minute?"

"I'll be fine." Saki sighed. "Guess this is just... life's wake up call or some crap like that."

Natalie laughed a bit. "I get it. I mean...this is gonna sound super sappy and gay, but you giving me that stupid box of chocolates was mine."

"I don't mind sappy and gay if it comes from you." Saki smirked. "And... thanks, I guess."

Natalie smiled, taking her hand and heading to the car. "Fair. Let's get back already."

Daichi was leaning against the car, lighting a cigarette. "You two ready to go?" He asked.

"So that's why your room always smelt like crap." Saki rolled her eyes as she got into the car.

Natalie grinned. "Sibling love. Gimme one," She said, holding her hand out for it.

Daichi laughed, handing her one before taking a drag. "We all gotta cope somehow, Saki. I just decided cigarettes were the poison for me," he said, climbing inside the car.

"Off for my big reintoduction to the world..." Saki muttered, as the car started up.

Natalie grinned. "Red Eyes, the grand reopening. Wait- that sounded dirty, I take that back."

Daichi's face soured, before buckling in. "Oh god," he took another drag, before resting the cigarette on his lip. He tossed the lighter to Saki. "Light Natalie's will ya?" His voice is muffled as he starts to back up.

Saki obliged. "Just so you know, Nat, I ain't making out with you until the cigarette breath goes away."

Natalie laughed. "Okay, that's fair. I'm not gonna complain. You do have your asshole brother to blame for it in the first place, though."

"Oh do I now... if you weren't driving, I'd thump you on the back of the head." Saki informed her brother.

Daichi grunted in reply, raising a middle finger up before continuing to back out. As soon as he's done, he loosened up, holding his cigarette in one hand and the wheel in the other. "I thank you for your courtesy, Saki. Didn't think you had it in you," he shot back.

"Yeah, well there's this thing, called dying, that I don't wanna do for real."

Natalie snorted. "Wonder what that's like. Though, gotta admit, dying in a car crash isn't how I wanna go."

Daichi chuckled. "Probably hurts like hell. Or maybe someone's hand will jam through your neck first. They tell you about that at driver's ed," he said, taking another drag.

"What the fuck kind of driver's ed did you go to?" Natalie asked, looking over at him, mildly horrified.

"Uh... just some random driver's ed," he shrugged. "I mean, it was nothing special."

"Jesus. So...wait, Red, where is it? Like, your old place, I mean," She asked, turning over to look at her.

"Down that road there, then the road to the left."

Daichi nodded, following her instructions.

"And... right here." Saki pointed at a regular-looking house.

Natalie looked out the window. "Here? I mean...okay. Want me to come in and help carry everything?"

"'F you want." Saki opened the door, swinging her feet out and walking outside

Natalie nodded, heading outside. "So...this is seriously the place? Wouldn't have expected Storm to be so...suburban."

Daichi stopped the car before stepping out. "Well, he does have a kid," he mumbled, stamping out his cigarette. "Being suburban is probably an easy cover."

Natalie snorted. "Yeah, totally. Organized crime, but gotta make sure his little girl's doing her best in school."

"Honestly, I think it was more about cover. I mean, who'd expect a supervillain to live in suburbia?" Saki walked up to the door.

"That one conspiracy theorist. The one who believes in reptile men and shit," Daichi added. He shrugged. "Who knows?" He followed behind her.

Natalie laughed. "Hey, if Storm can live here, maybe there are reptile people. I'll also have you know that, since I've lived in god knows how many places, I wouldn't be surprised if reptile people existed with all the shit I've seen. I'd just nod and say, 'oh? Reptile people? Bet they're Canadian.'"

"Oh, so you're the theorist, huh?" Daichi teased, grinning. "Figures. Anyways, Saki, what do you need to grab?"

"I bet Graves is a reptile person." Saki said, as she headed towards her room."Just gonna grab some clothes and shit

Natalie snorted. "Graves is something else, alright. You need a bag or something?"

"I got one. But thanks for the offer." Saki came out a few minutes later with a full duffel bag.

Natalie leaned against the doorway, watching her. "You uh...got this under control?"

"Yeah, I got it." Saki gave her a look. "I kill people and steal shit for a living, you think I can't carry a duffel bag?"

"Fair. Uh...which room is Storm's? I'm not leaving his house without fucking with him at least a little bit," She said, glancing around the room.

"He hasn't come back since I shot him in the gut." Saki muttered.

"She can still go fuck with his shit. I'd recommend smashing his laptop," Daichi said offhandedly. "While you all do your business, I'm going to smoke some more, if you don't mind."

"Yeah. Don't want to mess with his daughter's things, she seems....weird but not as bad, so I want to be as careful as possible," she said, looking at the walls and their decorations.

"Believe me, I'd love to watch you smash his shit, but Alyssa beat you to it."

Natalie frowned. "Damn. Also, uh, not to judge or anything but...is that a huge bloodstain in there? Like...I get committing murder in his own home is probably a normal occurrence, but did he just...not clean it up? That's seriously unsanitary."

"Kamukura and I couldn't be stuffed cleaning up after the homicidal seven year old." Saki shrugged.

"Homicidal seven yea- did his kid kill someone in here? Okay, wow. I'm kinda ashamed Storm didn't teach her to at least kill someone outside of the house," Natalie said, frowning.

Daichi choked, coughing on smoke. "Well, who'd she kill? Some old grudge of her dad's, or like a playmate of hers?" he asked, trying to control his breathing again.

"His mom. And, far as I can gather, he didn't raise her, so something else fucked the kid up." Saki said casually.

Natalie covered her mouth in disgust. "This bitch- man, I can't believe she'd just up and kill her grandmother like that."

"It's a Storm, Natalie. We should expect it, honestly," he took another drag.

"Well, she was a bitch to anyone who wasn't her son." Saki shrugged. "No big loss, really."

Natalie nodded slowly. "Fair, I guess. You ready?"

"Yup. Let's hit the road, before Kamukura starts bitching at us for being too loud."

Daichi put his cigarette out against the table before heading back and climbing into the car. "C'mon, hurry and buckle up, kiddos!" He called.

Natalie laughed, buckling up. "What is this, the Magic school bus?"

"Kiddos? We're a year  apart Daichi!"

Natalie just shook her head, grinning. "Anyway, gas it. I think I might've seen Kamukura and I don't want to deal with his Holier Than Thou bullshit."

"Please." Saki grimaced.

Daichi hit the gas, heading back to school. "Hey Natalie, are you going to play more foreign music this time?"((Sorry team, whoops a daisy)

Natalie grinned. "I haven't shown you the horrors of Western Meme Music, have I?"

"Of what?"

"Just listen," she said, plugging her phone into the aux. She promptly began playing the worst rendition of All Star she could find.

"Dear lord, kill it with fire." Saki moaned

"What... are they even saying?" Daichi winced. "'All star'? What the fuck?"

Natalie was doubled over, laughing so hard her stomach hurt. "This isn't even the worst I've heard!  My favorite has to be the one where someone just loops 'and they don't stop coming' for about three minutes."

"This is worse than hearing Storm sing in the shower" Saki moaned

"Oh this is the- hold up, he sings in the shower?" Daichi nearly turned around to look at Saki. "Forget this fucking probably Texan thing, he sings in the shower?"

"I'll have you know it's Floridian," Natalie interjected, before looking to Saki for an answer as well.

"He does. It's cringy and you can hear it from across the house." Saki grimaced. "Just... I wanted to drive knives into my ear when he did it."

"Recordings? Oh dear god please say you have recordings." Daichi grinned.

"Give us those sweet, sweet Storm receipts!" Natalie yelled, nearly jumping out of her seat.

"No, I was too busy resisting the urge to burn the house down."

Natalie deflated. "Damn. Well, I mean, at least you get to hear me perform now."

"Goddamnit..." Daichi shook his head. "At least Natalie's singing might be a good match to his."

“Fuck off, I'll have you know I was in my 8th grade choir."

"So was Saki. You don't see me praising her voice."

"God, don't remind me of that shit." Saki groaned.

Natalie slumped over, pouting. "I'm gonna kick your ass. I was born a musician!""Wait, so, uh...just realized, you're comfy sharing a bed right? It's pretty big," she said, glancing over at Saki. "And I'm pretty sure we can bullshit your way into a job."

"That'll work for me." Saki nodded.

Daichi hummed. "I bet they'll take you on for security, if we begged enough."

"What're the requirements?"

"Uh...be human? I don't know, they let me and this fucker in, so...oh! Speaking of which, you can go in as his sister. That would make it easier."

"Sweet. Sounds like fun then..."

#natalie martinez #daichi maruyama #danganronpa #text post #owlwyng #taketothesky #saki maruyama #?