#frankly voice: this guys super fruity!

[r0semultiverse]

What if instead of the people of Wano calling devil fruit power users “sorcerers” & saying they’re using “sorcery” they just said they were fruity?

[spideyobsessed]

Before It’s Too Late - Prologue

peter parker x avenger!reader

Synopsis: With all the life changing events taking place, will you ever get to overcome some of your biggest fears?

Chapter one

“Come on, Y/n! Do it for me!” your best friend pleaded.

“I told you not at school! It’s not my fault you went out drinking on a Tuesday.” you scolded Gwen, who is being dramatic as always.

“Please! I’ll give you 5 dollars.” She clasps her hands together and pleads some more as she shoots you a sheepish smile. You let out a sigh and shake your head, knowing you’d give in to her eventually. “How about you just hand over your jello?” You bargain, doubting she even has money with her.

“Deal!” She cheers loudly before groaning and holding her head.

Ignoring your whiny friend, you scope out your area of the cafeteria. Once you were certain there were no eyes on you, you turn back to Gwen, “This is the last time I’m doing this at school.”

“Yeah yeah, just hurry!” She rushes.

You take a deep breath and focus all of your energy towards your hands. You place your fingertips on either side of Gwen’s head, a purple aura radiating from them. As the energy transfers from your fingers to her temples, you watch a wave of relief mask her face.

“Better?” You ask her, the purple already gone from your fingers. “So much better. Bless you, almighty Y/n!” Gwen bows her head and graciously hands you her jello cup. You let out a loud laugh before accepting the treat, “You are ever so welcome, peasant.” She shoves you slightly before joining you in laughter.

“I saw that, ya know?” A third voice suddenly appears.

Your eyes widen when you see who the voice belongs to. Michelle Jones. This girl notices everything and now she’s just seen you use your abilities. So dumb. So careless. How could I let her catch-

“See what, Mj?” Gwen interrupts your panicked train of thought.

The odd girl invites herself to sit at your table. She squints her eyes while looking back and forth between you and Gwen. “I saw how close you guys were just a minute ago. It just seemed like something is going on.” She speaks with subtle confidence, as if she just cracked a big case.

“What? Uh no. Nope. Nothing going on here, that’s crazy talk.” You chuckle nervously. The blonde girl besides you gives you a disappointed look, “Nice save.” You gulp hard and your palms being to sweat.

The secret is out. I’m done for. I’m going to live the rest of my life as a lab rat being poked and prodded every single day-

“I don’t know. Things just seemed kinda... fruity over here.” Your thoughts interrupted once more, this time by Mj and her idiotic comment. She and Gwen begin to laugh as you bury your face in your hands, your nerves settle, thankfully.

“Very funny, very funny.” Gwen manages to say through her laughing fit, “but we all know who Y/n really wants to swap spit with.” she points a finger.

You turn your head, and almost as if it was second nature, your eyes land on the guy you’ve been crushing on since 8th grade year.

Peter Parker.

You feel the heat spreading across your face and you’re sure your pupils are dilated out of this world, but none of it is enough to tear away your gaze. Gwen let’s out a high pitched “Aahh” as she attempts to replicate that of a beautiful church chorus (and does quite the opposite). You’ve learned to tune out your best friend’s theatrical tendencies.

The smallest smile creeps onto your lips as you watch him and his best friend, Ned, laugh and toss grapes into each other’s mouths. Gwen and Mj share a knowing glance before continuing their antics.

Look at him! The way he grabs his stomach when he laughs, the way his eyes crinkle in the corner when he smiles too wide, the way his curls droop over his forehead. He’s perfect... Oh no.

You whip your direction back to the girls next to you, “Is it that obvious? Does everyone really know I like him?” Your nerves return. “You only make it like super obvious, dude.” Mj snorts, stealing a fry from your tray. You sigh and start to pick at your rightfully earned jello.

“Too bad he doesn’t even know I exist.” You grumble, fully and shamelessly basking in your own self pity. “I can fix that,” Mj smirks, “Hey losers! Get over here!” She shouts from across the lunchroom.

She instantly captures the attention of Peter and Ned, who are obviously use to her ever so friendly nicknames, and everyone else in the cafeteria. You make brief eye contact with the curly haired boy and fight the urge to just melt in your seat.

Sweat starts to bead from your forehead as you turn to Mj and whisper harsh words of protests. “Just go with it, Y/n.” Gwen attempts to reassure you. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. Please please please don’t embarrass yourself, you thought as they approach your table.

“Yes, Mj?” Ned questions her with his eyes squinted. You can tell they’re both worried about what might come out of her mouth. Quite frankly, you are too! Mj has no filter and is too unpredictable.

You try to avoid making eye contact with Peter, which is really hard to do considering he’s standing right next to you. You smell the strong scent of cologne and suddenly your throat is drier than the Sahara Desert. You sit in silence as you fiddle with your fingers.

“You guys know Gwen and Y/n, right?” Mj speaks in her monotone voice as she points a thumb over to you and Gwen.

This brings out a loud chuckle from Ned, “Uh duh! Of course we know Gwen Stacy and Y/n Y/l/n.” You can’t help but tilt your head over to Gwen, who is just as confused as you, but seems to be entertained by the event unfolding before your eyes.

“What Ned means is, uh.. y-yes. We’ve seen you guys around. And totally not in a creepy way or anything. We’re not stalkers. I just mean I’ve seen you pass by my locker. Not that I was looking for you or anything. I-It’s just that- well...um. I’m gonna.. stop there.” Peter finally chimes in with a painfully awkward laugh, but you swear it’s music to your ears.

Mj clears her throat, “Anyway, it’s your lucky day, nerds. Liz is having a party this Friday and these ladies don’t have dates, so you’re gonna take them. Ned with Gwen and Peter with Y/n.”

While Mj sits back and watches in amusement as Peter and Ned take turns stuttering words of confusion and hesitation, you lean over to Gwen, “Are we just going to let her set us up with them?” “Shh. It’s getting good.” Gwen shushes you.

“Well what about you, Mj? Won’t you be like.. the fifth wheel?” Ned asks a pretty valid question.

“As a young woman, I will be attending the party alone because I refuse to contribute to today’s patriarchal society norms.” Mj answers the question, sounding even more serious than you thought was possible.

The four of you are left speechless, none of you really knowing how to respond to that subtly backhanded statement. Mj continues, “They’ll be ready by 8:00 though. So don’t be late.”

“Demanding much? What if we had plans on Friday?” Peter scoffs while crossing his arms over his chest.

“You two have plans on a Friday night that don’t include a lego death star?” Mj mirrors his actions, calling his bluff.

Peter trades a defeated look with Ned and drops his arms. “No.” he sighs. “Good! So like I said, 8 o’clock. You’re dismissed.” Mj asserts before waving them off.

You get a sudden jolt of confidence and shoot Peter a small smile. He gives you one in return as he walks away with Ned.

“Really?!” You slap your hand on the table as soon as you were sure the two boys were out of earshot. “I believe the words you’re looking for are “Thank you, Mj. You’re the best!” but whatever.” The sarcastic girl smiles, obviously satisfied with her ‘leadership skills’, as she likes to call it.

You could just burst with embarrassment, “Oh, I have a few words I want to say, alright.” However, the bell rings before you get the chance.

- - - - -

The final bell of the day had finally rung and you walk to your locker in a slump. You spent the last three hours replaying the impromptu game of matchmaker at lunch over and over again in your head.

I can’t believe Mj pulled that stunt, you thought, but why was he so against it? He probably doesn’t want to go with me.

You absentmindedly put away your books and shut your locker. As you begin to walk towards the exit, you don’t even realize that the boy you’re constantly thinking of was right next to you.

Peter jogs a bit to catch up with you. “Uh h-hey, Y/n.” he says timidly, his voice making you stop dead in your tracks.

Your eyes widen and your legs now feel weak once you realize it’s really him. “Peter, hi!” you practically yell. Don’t seem too excited! You cringe at your eagerness before giving him a more calming, “Hi.”

The two of you chuckle at how awkward you both are. After a few seconds of silence and avoided eye contact, Peter is the first to start a conversation. “So lunch was pretty...” “Interesting?” you finish his sentence. “You read my mind.” He breathes as he looks down at his shoes.

You take this as your chance to apologize for your very bold acquaintance friend’s behavior. “I’m really really sorry about Mj. I had no idea she was going to do any of that. You and Ned don’t have to take us, if you guys don’t want to.” You manage to push out in one breath.

“No, it’s okay! I know how Mj is.” He reassures you with the sweetest smile possible. “I actually came to ask you what you’re wearing on Friday. I wouldn’t want to be underdressed.”

Heat immediately rushes to your face. This is not a drill! Okay, okay. Just breathe. Be cool. “Uhm I really haven’t given it much thought yet.” You tried your best to keep your composure despite the happiness coursing through your body.

“Oh, that’s totally cool!” Peter hesitates for a moment before saying, “Maybe we could, ya know, trade numbers and you can let me know later.”

You nod your head, maybe one too many times. “Yes, I think that’s a great idea.” You tell him, unable to hide the big smile plastered across your face.

The two of you chuckle once again at the awkward, yet somehow endearing, tension as you switch phones.

I can’t believe this is happening.

You can’t help but take notice of almost every little detail.

Peter’s phone has a screen protector, but still has a good sized crack on the top left corner.

There’s several unread messages, emails, and missed calls.

His home screen is a picture of probably the most beautiful sunset you could get in Queens. And oddly enough, the picture looks like it was taken from the very top of one of the skyscrapers.

I wonder how he got this picture.

After taking in as much as you could, you finally put in the 10 digits of your number. You simply put your name in as “Y/n” and locked the phone, handing it back to Peter, who was taking his sweet time.

Once you got back your phone, you see that he did not keep it as simple as you did. He put his contact name as “Peter :)))” and somehow managed to take and upload a contact photo as well. You smile widely at the sight on your screen.

“Awesome! So I’ll... text you later?” You say more as a question, but Peter doesn’t seem to notice this. “Yes, later! Sounds great.” He smiles as he walks backwards in the opposite direction from you.

“Y-yeah, uh, later!” You say as you copy his actions and also begin to walk backwards. “Later.” Peter gives you that smile that you love so much. You quickly turn around before he could see you blush anymore than he already has. Anyone with decent eyesight can see that you ended the day happier than you started it.

Okay, okay. Thanks, Mj.

- - - - -

“Oh what’s that, Peter? You want my number?” You say out loud, reenacting your conversation with Peter just minutes ago. The stares of strangers walking by you go unnoticed because you’re in your own little world, thinking about the boy of your dreams asking for your number!

“I mean sure, but I can’t promise I’ll get to you right away. There’s just SO many people blowing up my phone.” You say with a sigh as you dramatically place the back of your hand to your forehead. Wow, I’ve been hanging around Gwen too much.

You laugh to yourself, and continue your routine trek home until you hear a faint cry. To your right is a little girl, no older than seven years old, sitting on the stoop of these apartment buildings. You take a quick glance around, checking for any adults she might belong to. When you see no one around, you decide to check on her. With caution, you stroll over to where she’s sitting, and it was in this moment that you realize she’s cradling a small kitten.

You crouch down to her level, “Hey, sweetie. What’s wrong?”

The young girl looks up at you with her big, tearful eyes and then back down at the kitten. You let her sniffle a few times and muster up the courage to speak. “It’s my kitty.” her voice cracks, “He’s really sick, but my mom said we can’t go to the vet.”

You look down at the poor cat. His fur is matted, his breathing is labored, and he looks as if he hasn’t been eating. You can’t help but pity the both of them.

She can barely finish her sentence before breaking down again. Instinct kicking in, you start to rub small circles on her back in order to comfort her, “Don’t cry, don’t cry. I can help him!” The child instantly perks up.

“How are you gonna do that?” She questions skeptically while simultaneously placing the small creature in your hands.

You flash a smug smile before wiggling your fingers in front of her face. “With magic.” You whisper. The little girl’s eyes sparkle as she gazes upon the purple aura beaming from your hand.

You had no problem showing off your abilities to children. With their hyperactive imaginations and short attention spans, they don’t pose a threat when it comes to exposing your secret.

Finally turning your attention to the sickly kitten once more, you press your index and middle finger to its stomach. Just as it did with Gwen earlier today, the purple energy moves from your fingers and onto the kitten. It only takes a few seconds for the cat to spring out of your hands and back to its tiny owner, moving with full strength and purring happily.

The little girl gasps in pure amazement as she picks up her cat and squeezes it to her chest. “Thank you so much! I love magic now!” She squeals, a hint of sparkle still in her eyes.

You let out a lighthearted laugh and ruffle her already messy hair a little bit. “Sure thing, hun. You take good care of him!”

“I will, I will!” She smiles brightly before rising to her feet. “Mommy, mommy! Spiderman feels better now!”

and with that, the little girl disappears through the door.

Did she really name that cat Spiderman?

You roll your eyes and shake your head before carrying on.

- - - - -

“Alice, I’m home- woah. What the hell is this?” You spit in shock at the sight in front of you.

Your Aunt Alice walks up to you and gently pulls you through the doorway. She lets out a loud over exaggerated laugh, “Y/n, we have a guest! Don’t be rude when we have a billionaire in our house.” She whispers the last part to you.

“Uh- right! My apologies. I’m Y/n Y/l/n.” You walk up to the clean cut man with an outstretched hand.

He whips his sunglasses off of his face and you immediately feel ten times more intimidated and a hundred times more confused. He pushes himself off of your couch and steps in front of you.

The man placed his firm hand in yours and gives you a subtle shake, “I know who you are, kid. I’m Tony Stark.”

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

The next part!

Okay guys that’s the end of the introduction chapter!! I hope you guys like it! I’m sorry it’s everywhere right now, but it’ll start making more sense as it goes on, like most stories do.

I’m open for some feedback!! Let me know if the chapter was too long or too short. Maybe it could use more dialogue or less dialogue. Whatever you have in mind, just please be nice!! I haven’t written a story like this since I was like 15 so I might be a little rusty. If you’re still here, thank you for reading this far!!

edit: Sorry for any typos!!

[andyinmiddleearth]

Not to be cisphobic but like... you know what screw it, I hate cis people. And by that I don’t mean that I hate every single individual cis person that exists, I actually have several cis friends and family members that I am close to and love. I mean that I hate cis people as my oppressors, that I hate cis people as a class that oppresses gender-non-conforming, intersex, trans, and non-binary people. Here’s some examples of the systems of oppression cis people as a class have placed that still hurt us to this day:

I hate gender-reveals parties. I hate the fact that a baby’s interests, decorations, hell even their entire personality, is determined just by simply looking at the fetus’ outward genitalia. Not to mention how inaccurate it can be cause sex is a spectrum (meaning it’s much more than just genitalia, it includes hormones, chromosomes, etc, and these can be super diverse and I myself, an AFAB person, don’t naturally produce estrogen) which is why some intersex people don’t even know they’re intersex until they get checked out by a specialist in their late teens or twenties.

I hate cis people assuming pronouns, ESPECIALLY when it comes to people like me that are visibly queer. I hate going to a doctor’s office and having to listen to nurses and even doctors call me sis, girl, ma’am, lady, she, her, when over here I’m standing with a ‘men’s’ haircut and wearing entirely ‘men’s’ clothes. But as a whole, I just hate assuming people’s pronouns in general because gender is so much more than gender expression. Men can be feminine, women can be masculine, non-binary people can be as femme or masc as they want. Our bodies and our clothes don’t determine our gender. We do.

I also hate cis people not respecting pronouns on purpose, like that time at Einstein Bagels where I was wearing my he/him pin and the cashier kept repeatedly calling me ‘ma’am’ despite me wearing this 2.25 inch long button WITH MY PRONOUNS ON IT. I hate how I have family members that purposefully misgender me every single fucking day despite me being out as trans to them for YEARS because they just think ‘being transgender is a choice, like being vegan.’ I hate how one of these said family members does everything they fucking can to trigger my dysphoria and constant remind me that they see me as a woman.

I hate cissexism. I hate words like ‘lady parts’ and ‘boy parts’ and ‘girl parts.’ Boys and girls (and all genders) can have whatever private parts they have and still be their gender AND IT’S NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS, and frankly very creepy to want to know what’s in someone’s pants. I hate how instead of using terms like afab or amab it’s just ‘male parts’ and ‘female parts,’ ‘male body,’ ‘female body,’ which also blatantly erases intersex people that may have both, or something else entirely different.

I hate how cis people have made this concept about the ‘the perfect trans person’ that people in the trans community (yes, I’m talking about transmeds) will shit on our non-binary and non-dysphoric trans siblings because ‘they make us look like a joke.’ Spoiler alert, cis people as a class hate trans people because they’re transphobic, period, not because some random non-binary sixteen year old uses ze/hir pronouns and is non-dysphoric. I hate how I was harassed on this platform FOR YEARS and sent hate on and off anon by transmeds simply because I, a dysphoric trans guy, think you don’t need dysphoria to be trans. Because I think being trans is so much more about being uncomfortable in your body, because I think you can have gender euphoria and not gender dysphoria. And I hate how the transmeds that bullied me also called me all kinds of slurs (both referring to my ethnicity as a Latino and also just homophobic ones like the f-slur) and perpetuated exactly the behavior they see white cishet men perform because they think that way maybe they will accept them. Spoiler alert; they won’t.

I hate how intersex babies are mutilated every day around the world simply because of how they are born while trans children and young adults are still being denied access to LIFE-SAVING resources like hormone blockers, HRT, surgery, etc. I hate how long the waitlists are for trans people in places like the UK and Canada are to transition, and I hate how monetarily expensive it can be even with insurance in the USA, since this is the main reason why I can’t start T right now (that and the fact that I live with family members that wouldn’t support me transitioning).

I hate how anything can be a ‘girl’ or ‘boy’ thing. Things as simple as drinks for fuck’s sake. Why is a beer a ‘man’s drink’ and a fruity cocktail a ‘lady’s drink?’ Same goes for everything... clothing, movies, certain games, even basic chores like cooking and cleaning. Hell, even interests can be a ‘girl or boy’ thing. One time I was reading a thick book and this cis man (he knew I’m AFAB cause my parents misgendered me to him obviously) went ‘oh yeah us guys don’t read that much.’ EXCUSE ME SIR BUT I AM A GUY, AND I DO NOT WANT TO BE ASSOCIATED WITH YOU!

I hate how when a trans person comes out as a child they are ‘too young to know,’ and when a trans person comes out as a teen they are ‘just going through a phase/copying trends,’ and when a trans person comes out as an adult then ‘they can’t really be trans because they never shoWeD thE siGns.’ There’s no age to realize you’re trans, everyone accepts their identity at different rates and that’s valid. And there’s no age to transition either.

I hate how when you come out as trans cis people magically expect you to suddenly not look trans anymore. How they expect trans men after coming out to have perfectly flat chests and no curves, how they expect trans women to suddenly grow boobs and look feminine af, and how they expect non-binary people to look as androgynous as possible. All kinds of bodies are trans, and you don’t need to medically transition to be trans. Some trans folks don’t have surgery or HRT or anything at all for whatever reason, and they’re still valid.

I hate how some cis people will misgender us trans people no matter how well we pass the minute they find out we’re trans. A trans man can have a flat chest, a full grown beard and a deep voice and the minute someone finds out he’s trans he’s suddenly ‘really a woman.’ I hate how this misgendering of trans people is one of the reasons why so many of us (41%) have attempted suicide, myself included. And I hate how badly cis people deteriorate our mental health just by refusing to use our pronouns and real name instead of our deadnames.

I hate all of these things, and there are so many more... but yeah, that’s what I mean when I say I hate cis people. I don’t hate cis people individually, I hate cis people because as a class they are complicit in my oppression and the way they keep upholding society contributes to our extremely high rates of mental illness, depression, and suicide. I’ve tried to kill myself too many times to count exactly because of all of these things. So yeah, call me a cisphobe if you want. I’m just a trans person that’s fed up with the transphobia, cisnormativity and cissexism that is shoved down my throat every day.

[tyrustrash]

Double Rainbow

Hey, all! Here’s my first Julie and The Phantoms fic! @caro-reads @random-nerd-3 I tagged y’all cause y’all seemed interested in the idea. It’s also on AO3 if anybody wants to read it on there. https://archiveofourown.org/works/26726482

He thought once he told them everything would be alright. His parent were assholes, which he figured they would be. That night had less yelling than expected, but just the right amount of disappointment. His father called him every slur in the book as he threatened to make things physical and his mother just cried and wondered where she went wrong. He gathered up everything that he thought was valuable before he stormed out of the house due to his father’s orders.

He walked to the closest park and rested on one of the benches. The rain came down hard. Good for him because it covered up his tears. He didn’t know what to do. He knew that his father wouldn’t immediately be open with having a gay son but hoped he would lighten up because they always told him they would always love and support him. He guessed he wasn’t the only one that lied.

With the flash of lightning, Alex jumped from the bench. He nearly dropped his phone on the concrete sidewalk. Without thinking about what he would say, he called one person he hoped wouldn’t be like his parents.

“What’s up,” the voice on the phone said. He knew Luke would answer even if it was late.

He couldn’t form a complete sentence due to his sobs. “Lu-Luke. I c-can’t. Please.”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” The concern in his voice seems sincere. It made him hope that it was real. “Just breathe. Tell me what’s going on.”

He couldn’t. He couldn’t come out to him. He just lost his parents and he wasn’t ready to lose his best friends. “My parents just kicked me out.”

“What!” His shouting was loud enough to fill up the empty park. “What happened? Are you okay? Where are you?”

Alex got even more upset that he couldn’t tell him the whole truth. “I’m at Frankly Park, in the rain.”

“I’ll be right there.”

“What are you-” He couldn’t finish speaking because Luke hung up. He wanted him to stay on the phone longer. He wanted him. He wanted someone that would care about him.

A few minutes later, a car pulled up to the sidewalk. He recognized it as Emily’s car. He walked to it and got in the passenger’s seat. He noticed Luke in the driver’s seat with the most worried face he has ever seen.

“I’m sorry for getting the inside wet,” Alex said without looking at him. His voice was so faint that it felt like a ghost talking.

“I don’t care about that,” Luke told him. “I care about you. What happened? Are you hurt? Do I need to get Reggie?”

Hearing him mention Reggie made him begin crying again. It just hit him that his friends were all he had left and he couldn’t mess things up. He didn’t know how to tell them, nor did he know if they would even be cool with it.

“I just need somewhere to stay.”

“I know a place.” With that, Luke drove off.

A short drive brought them to a garage in a neighborhood. There wasn’t a house attached to it. Walking inside, there was some sort of setup for playing instruments with some couches on the side and a little bed area on the top floor. Alex looked at it in awe.

“What is this place?”

Luke went to the fridge and gave Alex a bottle of water. “Welcome to Sunset Curve’s new rehearsal studio. I was going to show you guys this weekend as a surprise. The original owners didn’t need it anymore and let me buy it off them real cheap. I wanted to set things up before we actually got started in here.”

Alex sat on one of the couches and took it all in. He looked up to the partial second floor which only consisted of bedroom supplies. He figured he could stay there. “Thanks for getting all this.”

“No problem.” Luke sat next to him. “My parents wanted us to find a new place because they wanted the house to be quiet. You can stay here as long as you need.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”

“Nah, it’s our space now. You’re free to crash here for however long you need.”

Alex couldn’t be more grateful. Luke went out of his way to find them this space and was okay with him living there. Without thinking, he leaned over and gave him a hug. When Luke placed his hands on his back, it made Alex pull away quickly. He just realized he gave his male, and straight, friend a super close and tight hug. It got him thinking if he gave off any signs.

“It’s okay,” Luke said. “If you need a hug, I’m open. I don’t mind.”

Before he could let out any more tears, Alex got up and made his way to the bed on the second floor. “It’s alright. I just need to rest and clear my mind.”

Luke nodded and headed out. Before closing the door, he looked Alex in the face and said, “If you ever want to talk about it, I’m all ears. And don’t ever forget that I love you. Reggie loves you. Hell, even Bobby to an extent loves you. You have people here for you.”

When Luke left, Alex started crying again. He thought about what Luke said. Would they really love him when he comes out? Would they end up being like his father? The world didn’t like people like him and most didn’t bother hiding their hate.

His father would make snarky remarks all the time about gay people and make it known that he believed straight was normal. One time when they saw two guys holding hands, his father covered Alex’s eyes and cursed at the guys because he thought they were going to poison him with their disease. When Alex asked what was wrong with them, his father simply explained that they were sick and needed help. When Alex said that he thought nothing was wrong with that, his father took him to church and had him pray for an hour until he caved and said what his father wanted to hear.

He remembered the first time he felt feelings for another boy. He was in eighth grade and there was a particular football player that he gravitated towards. Unfortunately, the football player happened to be his only friend at the time. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t help but to stare at him whenever they spent time together. He felt his insides shake just thinking about him. He finally understood what the other boys were talking about when they talked about girls. He worked up the courage to start a conversation with him to explain how he felt, but before he approached the boy, he saw that he had an anti-gay poster in his locker. That crushed his spirit and ended their friendship. Now he was worried that his current friends would think the same. He never heard them say anything alarming, but people could put on a show. So much was running through his mind that he needed to let it out somehow. He grabbed his journal and started writing exactly what his heart felt and every emotion running through his body.

Even though he shouldn’t, he wrote about what would happen if the guys ended up not liking him. He wrote about how much their friendship meant to him and how hurt he’ll be if they kicked him out. He wrote an apology to them for lying and not having enough faith in them. After a few tears hit the pages, he placed it on the little table and went to sleep.

A few weeks passed and Alex has yet to come out. He’s been alright around the guys and grew closer to them because of their extra time together. He felt safe with them, or that’s what he thought.

Over time in the garage, Alex has bought different rainbow and Pride-themed things to place around the garage to see how the others would react. It wasn’t much, just some cups, plates, blankets, and stickers for their instruments. It was his way of giving hints without saying anything, and to see if they would mention anything. He made sure that they didn’t see him bring it all in. He almost bought glitter but thought it would be too much.

One day, Alex was on the couch playing air drums when Bobby and Reggie came in and went to the fridge. They poured some orange juice in the rainbow cups.

Reggie took a sip and nudged Bobby. “Hey, man, do you know where all this random rainbow shit came from? It’s getting a little too fruity in here for my liking.”

Alex’s ears perked. He started feeling his heart sink lower into his stomach.

Bobby groaned. “Dunno, but hopefully more don’t show up. Don’t want to be turned.”

Bobby laughed and Reggie stayed silent as they made their way to the rehearsal area. Alex wanted to die. He didn’t want to believe that his only friends had those thoughts. He started having more thoughts the other day when Luke said he never wanted to think about kissing another boy. Alex stayed quiet as he listened to Bobby and Reggie.

“What does that mean?” Reggie asked. “I mean, it wouldn’t be bad.”

Bobby shook his head. “Yes, it would. Do you think that that’s right?”

“I mean,” Reggie said, which made Alex worry even more. “I don’t know. With everything the news says, I don’t know exactly what to think, but I do think a little that being homosexual is weird. I mean, girls are hot. I don’t know why guys wouldn’t be into them. However, it’s none of my business what they’re into. And I’m not going to assault them or say anything to them either.”

“I’ll say something.” Bobby’s voice was cold. Alex took note of Reggie’s facial expression of confusion. “As you said, girls are hot. Guys are supposed to like girls.”

“Says who?” They all turned to the backdoor and noticed Luke in the door frame. His tone was a mix of sarcasm and pissed off. “I didn’t know there was a rule stating who we had to like?”

“Come on, man. Don’t defend them as if you’re friends with them. I heard what you said. I remember our talks.”

Alex for sure wanted to die. His heart raced faster knowing that the three of them had talks where they expressed their dislike for people like him. He wanted to get up and run away, but that would look too suspicious.

Reggie got between Bobby and Luke. “Guys, let’s just calm down and talk reasonably.”

“Yeah, let’s talk about what the two of you have said to me, especially since all this rainbow shit started showing up.”

Luke approached Bobby. “Look, I didn’t really mean anything that I said. It was all for fun.”

“What did you say?” Reggie asked.

Luke rubbed the back of his head. “It was nothing. Just some jokes about how the queers like to shove themselves down our throats. That I feel like they check me out when I go to the gym and felt uncomfortable. Nothing serious. But it’s not as bad as what Bobby says.”

Bobby chuckled as if he wasn’t ashamed. “Yeah, but at least I have the balls to say something. Those freaks shouldn’t be out in public. I shouldn’t be afraid to be shirtless at the beach in case one of them tries flirting with me. If I catch one of them even thinking about me, I’ll beat the crap out of them. Those faggots can rot in hell.”

That was it. That was the final straw. Alex started hyperventilating and tried leaving. He stumbled on his way but managed to get out. He didn’t make it far, only to the trees behind the garage. Gasping for air, he passed out.

When he woke up, he was shocked. He was back in the garage and was on the bigger couch. He looked over and saw Luke and Reggie sitting at the table, both seem interested in something. Upon closer look, his eyes widened when he realized they were reading his journal. His heart couldn’t catch a break today.

He couldn’t do anything because they saw him. Their faces look like they’ve been crying for a while. Luke still had some tears rolling down his cheek. Alex’s feet couldn’t move for some reason when they started coming towards him. Next thing he knew was these two straight guys giving him the tightest hug that he has ever had. Alex joined them in the tears.

“We’re so sorry,” Luke said without letting go. “We’re so freaking sorry for what we’ve said. What Reggie and I said truly were meant as jokes, poor and tasteless jokes that shouldn’t have been said.”

Reggie was next. “We love you so much, Alex. We’re sorry for being the worst friends ever. We understand if you hate us. But let me tell you that you are our best friend and we never meant to hurt you.”

Alex’s sobs filled up the garage. He didn’t know what to believe. After hearing all the hurtful things that they have said, it was hard for him to be around them. But he could tell in their voice and face right now that they were genuinely sorry.

“Why?” Alex asked as he broke the hug. “Why would you even say those things? Or even think those things? Are you only saying this now because I’m your friend?”

Reggie got down on his knees and took one of Alex’s hands. “Alexander Oscar Cobb, you are our friend no matter who you are. We were monsters for what we’ve said, and we’re truly sorry and we want to change.”

Luke got down next and took his other hand. A little tear left his eye. “We don’t know why we said those awful things before. Please, you have to believe us when we say that we don’t hate you and we don’t hate others like you. We were just stupid boys that listened to the wrong crowd.”

“What about Bobby?” Alex asked as he stood and walked across the room. The other two followed him.

“He’s out,” Luke said. “We kicked him out of the band and the friend group. We don’t want anything to do with him.”

“Yeah,” Reggie chimed in. “He saw nothing wrong in his thoughts and didn’t want to change. He continued talking shit when he found out the truth.”

Luke moved to be in front of Alex and looked him in the eyes and said, “We promise to never make a dumbass comment again. We’ll learn and grow and do whatever it takes. You’re not just our friend, you’re our brother.”

So many thoughts ran through Alex’s mind that it felt like he was going to explode. He couldn’t risk making the wrong move, but he was pretty sure he was going to be happy.

“Thanks, guys,” Alex said as he took their hands again. “And I promise to be honest from now on. Your words mean so much to me and I hope we can all use this as a learning experience.”

At that, they had another group hug and gave supportive remarks to each other. Alex turned his head and stared out the window. He smiled seeing the double rainbow in the sky.

[jewpacabruhs]

“You look really tired” or “You think you’re funny” for Kyman 👊🤧

Kyle hates the part of himself that cares deeply for Cartman. Because he does care about him; he can admit that now that he’s matured and all but abandoned his steadfast conviction that he must despise him, though he definitely resents the bastard. Regardless of it all, he knows deep down that even if he’s not fond of him, he’ll always want the best for him, and he’ll always hope to one day see him become someone happier, healthier, and maybe even some semblance of normal, and it pisses him the hell off, because no one deserves to be stuck caring about the well-being and future of someone like Cartman. He supposes someone has to keep an eye on him - he just wishes he didn’t feel bad for him.

But more than anything, it bothers him that Cartman knows he cares about him, and has made a hobby out of exploiting his sympathetic nature and taking advantage of his unending desire to see Cartman evolve into a better person. It upsets him that time and time again, he gives the asshole the benefit of the doubt, and time and time again, Cartman makes him regret it.

So when Cartman sits down for lunch on Monday after having ghosted them all weekend, looking absolutely awful, like he hadn’t slept in a week and had spent that time crying, too, Kyle doesn’t immediately ask what’s up, because he’s sure it’s a ploy for attention and pity, and he won’t give Cartman what he wants this time.

The other boys follow suit; they’re all tired of Cartman’s dramatics, too.

It’s only after Cartman doesn’t prod them to inquire about his state, doesn’t even touch his meal, which is absolutely unheard of, that Kyle gives in and says, “Cartman, is everything okay? You look really tired.”

Craig and Token glare at him, clearly irritated with him for engaging, and Craig goes so far as to gather up his lunch and tug Tweek away by the hand, but Kenny glances over from the nudie mag he’d been looking at with Clyde, peering worriedly at Cartman. Stan’s munching away at a salad - Wendy’s got him eating vegan again, and Stan’s decided salads are his safest option - but he’s watching Cartman, too. It’s some consolation to Kyle that he’s not the only one who does care about Cartman, though Stan and Kenny have frequently criticized him for being too invested.

“Had a bad night,” Cartman says quietly, and his voice is so small and sincere that Kyle’s instantly sympathetic. If this is another scheme, he’ll kick his ass, but by the looks of it, for once in his life, Cartman’s serious in his misery.

“You wanna talk about it, big boy?” Kenny asks him from where he’s sitting to his right. He’s handed Clyde the magazine so he can focus wholeheartedly on Cartman, though Kyle catches the way he’s eyeing Cartman’s untouched chicken nuggets. 

Cartman does, too, apparently. “No,” he replies moodily, before pushing his tray towards Kenny. “You can have them. I’m not hungry.”

Kenny actually hesitates before digging in, apprehensive where he wouldn’t usually be, because of Cartman’s bizarre behavior, but he starts chowing down quickly enough.

No one knows what to say, so they carry on with their lunches, though there’s an air of awkwardness due to Cartman’s mopey presence. He’s horribly quiet; doesn’t even pitch in when Jimmy and Clyde start arguing about early 2000s boy bands, though he’d typically jump right into a conversation like that with some obnoxious spiel about NSYNC’s superiority.

Kyle eats his sandwich solemnly and watches him out of the corner of his eye, even as Stan shows him a series of dumb memes mixed with cute animal videos; the usual lunch procedure. 

By the time the bell rings and everyone stands to go, Cartman’s demeanor hasn’t changed, and he remains seated as the lunch room begins to clear out. Kyle starts to leave with Token to their AP Bio class - but then he stops and looks at Cartman, and something compels him to stay with him. “I’ll catch up with you,” he tells Token, who frowns a little, searching his face briefly, before simply saying, “Okay, dude,” and taking off.

Kyle sits down at the table, straddling the bench. Cartman’s slumped over, head in his hands, but Kyle’s weight makes the seat squeak, and he glances up. “What the hell do you want?” he asks, and his pouty tone is familiar, but so much more legitimately dejected than Kyle’s used to. He’s even got tears in his eyes; real ones, not performative ones.

“What’s going on with you, Cartman?”

The fat boy heaves a sigh, and Kyle sees him fiddling with his hands in his lap, which is something he only ever does when he’s forced to open up and be vulnerable. If this were anyone else, Kyle would put a reassuring hand on his back or arm, something to calm his nerves and show him that he was there for him, but it’s Cartman, and frankly, Kyle’s not willing to let him have that yet. 

Finally, inaudibly, Cartman says, “Ralphie died.”

“Oh,” Kyle says. Ralphie was a sickly stray cat Cartman had been trying to nurse back to health for the last month. He’d named him after the Sopranos character because, according to Cartman, he kind of looked like Joe Pantoliano. That had sparked an argument with Kenny, who thought Pantoliano looked more like a French bulldog than anything (”But he’s Italian!” Cartman had yelled, as if that meant something). Then Kyle had pitched in that it was rude to compare people to pets, which upset Stan, who thought any human should be honored to be likened to an animal. 

Cartman had been excessively lovey with the cat, so Kyle’s not surprised he’s so upset. Part of him is just thankful Cartman’s capable of grieving; it’s proof he’s not soulless, like the other guys try to convince him he is. Proof he’s not a lost cause. 

“I’m sorry, Cartman,” Kyle says gently. The lunch room’s nearly empty, and the few kids left are staring at them as they exit, because their rivalry is decently infamous. The second bell rings; he’s definitely going to be late to class, and somehow, that’s not important to him right now. “I know you really liked that cat.”

Cartman heaves a sigh. “I just - after Mr. Kitty died, I - I missed her so bad, but I didn’t wanna just replace her, you know? It wouldn’t be the same. But when I found Ralphie, I thought maybe it was meant to be or whatever, ‘cause I just found him, on the street, and I thought Kitty wouldn’t feel betrayed about it ‘cause I was, like, doing an act of - of, like, charity, or whatever, you know? And I thought Ralphie was getting better, he was doing super good and he was more cuddly and, and affectionate, we really became friends- but then I came home from skewl on Friday and he wasn’t moving-” Cartman starts to cry, but he covers his eyes with his hands before Kyle can see. That’s how Kyle knows this is the most genuine sadness he’s seen out of Cartman, possibly in all the time he’s known him; his fake cry is hysterical shrieking paired with crocodile tears, but currently, he’s crying very quietly, sniffling a bit, hiding his face away, and it tugs at Kyle’s heart strings like those ASPCA commercials do.

Abandoning his desire to remain stoic for the sake of his own pride, he puts a hand on Cartman’s back. “Cartman, hey, listen - what if after school, the guys and I take you to the pound to pick out a new cat?”

“Really?”

“Yes.” He’ll have to ask them, but Stan’s always down for an opportunity to be near animals, though it might be hard to get him to leave without taking home every single creature there - and as for Kenny, he’ll tag along as long as Kyle offers to take them out to Taco Bell after.

Cartman rubs at his wet eyes with his sleeves and smiles happily. “I’d - I’d like that, Kahl.”

Then he falls on Kyle and hugs him tight, and to Kyle’s disbelief, he’s not annoyed at being embraced by him like he usually would be. Instead, he smiles and hugs him back, patting him awkwardly on the back once he doesn’t let go after a good thirty seconds. He smells like fruity shampoo and peanut butter, which is better than he usually smells, or maybe Kyle’s just not in the mood to pick out petty things to criticize for once.

Kyle’s typically sort of touch adverse, so if anyone else hugged him like this, he’d definitely be irritated by now - but somehow, Cartman holding onto him like he’s a lifeline just makes his heart swell in a way he’ll lie awake tonight worrying about.