#hes my wee pal hes my buddy i want him to be okay but hes not and thers nothing we can do

[tomboyyyaoi]

aggh

[deniigi]

hi I have something for y’all called a disaster.

I wrote an Inimitable!Spiderman/Modern Star Wars AU because no one can stop me, not even myself. it is like 47 pages long. I am handing it tenderly to y’all.

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Title: impossible scenario

Summary: Peter runs into some drunk assholes arguing, calling each other Han and Luke. He lets it roll off him until he can’t anymore and eventually finds himself for the first time on the other side of someone more chaotic than himself.

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There was an argument happening under a fire escape. Peter knew about it because a concerned dude wearing a fuckin’ Yankees cap had flagged him down with waving arms and told him that someone needed saving, Spiderman. Some tall asshole was kidnapping a young blond dude, the guy  and his too-cool-for-him girlfriend explained. They’d heard the two scuffling.

Peter maybe stared for a beat too long at them because the gal pointed two blocks behind him and said, “That way. I think the blond guy might be drugged. He’s slurrin’ something strong.”

Peter liked her shoes. They looked like Miles’s, but blue.

“Spidey?”

Miles told Peter all the time that he wasn’t cool enough to wear Jordans. MJ and Johnny had agreed. Such sad times.

“Spidey.”

“I got it,” Peter sighed.

The gal tsked.

“Man, you’re too young to be this jaded,” she said.

Peter sighed.

“You’re the third person to say that this week,” he said. “You think I should go back to therapy?”

There was a pause.

“You know that answer, dude,” cool-gal said. “Go save the twink.”

Twink. Got it. Thank you, citizen.

“There are websites for that shit, Spidey.”

Bye now.

“Apps, even.”

Bye, bye.

“BetterHelp or Headspace or somethin’—”

“Two blocks, you said?” Peter asked.

 --

 Two blocks away, there was indeed a man with dark hair trying to lift a violently intoxicated twink up onto the first steps of a fire escape. Peter examined his options. There were many ways to ruin a potential kidnapper’s day. His favorite involved coke and mentos, although he’d received feedback that that was a waste of perfectly good food. Down the list was also the option to walk over and scream bloody murder so that the kidnapper shat themselves and dropped their target.

That was good, but Peter was tired and the thought of mustering up the energy to scream at a noticeable volume made his thighs turn to Jell-o.

That left snark and violence.

Today, he would not choose violence. Only for today.

He strode out of his dark temporary residence between two dumpsters directly towards the tall dude and his mark. The mark was a messy one. Bless his heart, he was unwittingly making himself the most noncompliant victim to have ever victim-ed. Every time the tall guy got him almost vertical, he gave up his corporeal form to become drunk slime and ooze back to the ground with various moaning sound effects.

It would have been funny if not for the kidnapping context.

The fact that Peter had been standing there under the beams of two separate side-building security lights and neither of those two had noticed yet was also objectively funny—or would have been, if Peter had the capacity for processing humor at the moment.

Alas. This was what he got for telling Tony that he’d evolved beyond the need for sleep. He got caffeine-pilled. And there would be no true rest until that shit wore off, exhausted as Peter’s body yearned to be.

“Kid, work with me here,” the tall guy said.

“I can’t, I’ll die,” the shorter one moaned.

“Luke.”

“I’ve done my time—thirty years in AZKA—”

“Keep your voice down, oh my god.”

Peter was just standing here, fellas.

“Luke.”

“Why’s it always me? Why’s it always gotta be me? The hell did I do to piss off the whole galax-galaxy? HA. My bad, my bad. The whole universe?”

God, what a mood.

The tall guy dropped his grip on the smaller one and loomed over his puddle of ooze with poison in his gaze.

“People are going to die, Luke,” he said.

“So what? They’re always dyin’. Everywhere I go, people’re dyin’ and when it’s not them dyin’, you know who is?”

“Kid.”

“ME.”

“So you’re just gonna wallow there, feelin’ sorry for yourself?” the tall dude snapped.

“Sure am,” the puddle of ooze hummed.  

This was not a kidnapping. This was a come-to-Jesus in the back alley of a bar. Peter was not needed here. He turned around on his heel and stopped when he heard a sharp intake of breath.

“Is that?” someone whispered.

“Don’t mind me, pal, just your friendly neighborhood—” he started.

“Look what you did,” Tall and Handsome hissed at Ooze-Man. “Someone went and called Spiderman on us.”

Peter lifted a brow as Ooze-man ripped its chest up from the asphalt and composed itself back into a human shape with fluffy blonde hair and huge wide eyes.

“Omigod, it’s Spiderman,” the guy said. “Wait, no. Gimme a hand. No, not that one, fuck off, nevermind, I don’t need you.”

He drew himself up to standing, only leaning slightly on his buddy there and gave Peter as lopsided smile.

“Hi, there,” he said with a twang that Peter couldn’t place. “Were you lookin’ for someone, handsome?”

Ah, they had reached the time of night when all the drunks needed to tell Peter things he already knew about his ass. He loved this time.

Not to mention that this dude looked eerily like Johnny. Scarily like Johnny. So much like Johnny that Peter almost wanted to take a picture of him to send to Sue so that she could print up some lost and found posters.

“Just lookin’ at you, babe,” he said. “This guy botherin’ you?”

The tall guy blanched and then grabbed at his face in horror. Peter swallowed his laugh.

“He sure is, hon. You got time to rescue me?” Blondie crooned.

“Luke, please. Please.”

“Because I’m in real distress,” ‘Luke’ said with a pout mighty enough to fell Thor.

“You sure seem like it,” Peter said. “C’mere. I’ll walk you home. Leave that tool, he ain’t worth your breath.”

He held out an elbow like proper gentleman and was pleased at the hand that Luke laid over his heart in response.

Peter could imagine Johnny’s face in six different expression of jealous horror at a selfie taken with this look-alike. Each was beautiful in its own special way. As payment for being referred to counseling by the public, he at least deserved to receive at least two of those faces.

“You mean that?” Luke asked him.

“He doesn’t,” his tall companion said.

“I sure do, where do you live? I’ll walk you,” Peter said.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna cry, he’s gonna escort me,” Luke said, all choked up and fanning his eyes lightly.

This tall friend grabbed him before he could escape, though, and pulled him back behind his own body.

“Listen, Spidey, this is a misunderstanding,” he drawled. “I know this idiot—he is technically my idiot— and I’m the one escorting his ass home. Thanks, though. You’re a real menace. Beat it.”

MMMMMMM.

And here Peter had been planning on being jaded and miserable this fine night. How could he now when this dude was ticking every box that made him feel alive?

“What’s your name, dollface?” Peter asked across the short distance.

“None of your business,” Tall Guy answered abruptly.

“Luke,” Luke said around him. “Are you gonna save me?”

“In just a minute,” Peter said, striding forward with a hard roll in his shoulder and deep drop in his knees.

It was amazing how Tall Guy wanted to take some steps back all of the sudden. Peter couldn’t help but let a smirk widen his face as he advanced.

“Okay, hang on now,” Tall Guy said with both palms out in front of him. “You don’t know what this is about, Spidey. You don’t want to get involved with this, trust me. He’s just bein’ dramatic. No need to get testy.”

“You sure do a lot of talkin’ for your friend there,” Peter noted through his grin.

“Yeah, Han,” Luke said.

Ha.

Han. Han and Luke. Ned was gonna be enraptured when Peter told him about this later.

“Luke. Back me up.”

“Why should I?”

“Because,” ‘Han’ finally snapped. “I’m not doin’ this because I want you to suffer, alright? I don’t want nothin’ to do with it either, okay? No one does. But it’s this or—”

“Or everyone else,” Luke finished for him in a strangely toneless voice.

Han sighed.

“It’s always everyone else,” Luke said.

“Not here.”

“Why’s it always everyone el—No, no, here. Why not? We’ve got fucking Spiderman in our midst, how much more surreal can this moment get? No. You listen to me, Han—”

“I’ve been listening to you all damn evening and you know what I’m hearing?”

“—I lost my life for this. I lost my home, my aunt, my uncle, my hand—”

“I’m hearing you making this about you.”

“—everything I ever knew, and I tried to make it right, didn’t I? I made the school. I gathered the kids—”

“And it’s not just about you this time, kid. It’s not about you, it’s not about me, or Leia, or Chewie or—”

“—I lost my kid and the love of my life, and I finally get a second chance at finding them and giving them the goddamn happy ending they deserve, and the next thing I know—”

“Luke, you’re the only one,” Han said.

“I WAS NEVER. THE ONLY. ONE, HAN,” Luke roared out of absolutely nowhere, sober as a saint. “I was never the only one. EVER. Ahsoka. Go find her. She’s everything that I’m not and more. She’s the real—”

“Luke.”

“Stop saying that name. I HATE that name. I would do anything for twenty goddamn seconds where I didn’t have to be him.”

“You don’t mean that,” Han said quietly. His shoulders had rounded out and become black and heavy under the weight of their shadow. Luke’s eyes, however, looked like topaz.

“I mean it,” Luke said.

Oho.

So shit had gotten real tense, real fast, so Peter about to make a decision that was gonna make Shelley so proud of him she would weep when he finally slunk back in through her office door.

He was leaving. He was turning around and taking a wee jog. Maybe turning a corner, having a little jump over a fence, up a wall, to a place as far away from this one as superhumanly possible.

Bye, bye.

“This galaxy needs you, Luke.”

Peter stopped five paces away.

“They need you,” Han repeated. “And I need you.”

Peter slowly looked back to see that Luke’s face had twisted sharply out of the light, towards the alley wall.

“I’m sorry that we met again like this,” Han said quietly. “I’m sorry it’s always you. You don’t deserve this. No one deserves this.”

“Shut up,” Luke said.

“But if you don’t do something, then it won’t be just me and you and all these random others sliding back into that cesspit we all barely crawled out of.”

“Stop.”

“You’ll never find him if things go back the way they were.”

“You—you don’t know that. There—maybe—”

“Luke. Listen to me. Please.”

“Maybe there’s a chance—”

“Luke,” Han said reaching out and putting a hand on Luke’s shoulder and clenching it hard enough that Peter should see the bunched fabric, “Do you want Din to live through this shitshow a second time? Hasn’t he suffered enough?”

Peter shivered. The pressure at the base of his neck was building. The Spidey Sense wanted to hiss in his ears like white noise. It pinned him where he was, staring over his shoulder at those two solid shapes, one digging a hand into the flesh of the other.

His stomach turned.

Luke said something that Peter couldn’t hear. Han pulled him toward his own body by the grip he had on his shoulder. At first, Luke seemed to stagger, like he was walking on black ice. He stopped a single step away from Han’s body, still with his face angled severely away. Han said something to him.

There was a long pause, then Luke seemed to fall forward. Han caught him and crushed his head into his shoulder, lowering his own until it was almost touching Luke’s ear. They clung to each other.

Luke was crying.

The Spidey Sense started to crackle and pop in Peter’s ears.

“I gotchu, kid,” Han said in a rasp. “I gotchu. We’re gonna get through it.”

Peter blinked once and finally unlocked the muscles in his neck. He wasn’t meant to witness this. He held out a wrist and fired a line.

  --

It was weird.

It was just weird.

Something wasn’t right. And Peter couldn’t make his stomach not writhe about it.

Luke.

Han.

An offhand mention of like, characters. Character names. They were character names. Leia, Chewie.

Peter had heard of people who lived their lives honestly believing that they had been other people—fake people—in past lives, but like, damn man. Why would you put yourself in a position like that were you were moved to actual tears for some elaborate street-drama?

Maybe it had been a joke? That was the only thing he could think it could be. Maybe the universe had gazed upon his hubris at work and gone ‘ah yes, I know what this young man needs: emotional confusion at midnight on a Thursday. That’ll fix him.’

If that was the case, then yeah. Good job, universe. Good job, larpers. Y’all are equally sick.

But if not—and Peter no longer lived in a world where he could rule out any possibilities—then he had just witnessed—Dude, he’d just witnessed—

He couldn’t even think it. It was beyond him. It was so far beyond him that like he might have a real stroke taking the thought seriously.

There was only one person who could hold that kind of information unscathed.

Only one.

  --

PP: Ned. I need you to listen to me and tell me I’m not crazy.

NL: no promises but go on

PP: I think? I just saw? Luke Skywalker? And Han Solo? In an alley behind Kitty’s?????

NL: fascinating

JS: Say more

PP: who let you in here?

JS: you?

PP: SECURITY

NL: Peter say more

PP: I can’t there’s a nerd in here and it’s vibrating at the wrong decibel. SECURITY???

MJ: yeah?

PP: I’m trying to have a breakdown. Can you remove Matchstick please?

MJ: what kind of breakdown

JS: he thinks he met Luke Skywalker

PP: Security has failed me. God?

NL: Peter can you name three things you can see.

PP: I am not manic. I am in touch with reality. I’m just having anxiety because I just fucking saw two people calling each other Luke and Han fighting behind Kitty’s. Like real fighting.

JS: nicknames?

PP: I—

PP: oh my god nicknames

PP: Johnny I’m so sorry I ever doubted you. never leave my side

JS: 😊

MJ: wow that’s cringe. Imagine naming yourself after SW characters

NL: does kitty do a cosplay night now????

PP: idk it was wild. People thought that ‘Han’ was trying to kidnap ‘Luke’ but when I got over there, Luke started flirting with me and then shit got real and they started arguing over like him hating his name and not wanting to do something and losing everything or some shit

NL: that’s a lot. I’m sure it was nothing, though, peter.

PP: yeah it was. My SS has been going nuts ever since I left. You think they bugged me?

JS: yes I will come search your body imminently

MJ: my job storm, back off

JS: after MJ has finished prelim checks, I will then search your body for you out of the kindness of my heart ❤

NL: that’s weird, the SS doesn’t usually freak out about cosplayers

PP: ikr?

NL: lol imagine if they were serious

MJ: don’t say that

JS: well now we have to lean in. thanks ned

JS: they were definitely real. God they were so real. You hear that Fate? You got us. They’re definitely real.

PP: BUT WHAT IF THEY WERE?

MJ: cue breakdown

NL: that would be so fucking funny. Luke Skywalker and Han Solo trying to save the world from the hellscape of nyc. The rats alone would thwart them.

PP: ned I’m freaking out

NL: oh you mean you’re actually freaking out?

PP: deeply

NL: oh shit sorry. I’ll be over, have you slept yet?

PP: NO

MJ: on it

JS: can I join?

NL: no johnny

MJ: no johnny

PP: 😭

JS: one day our love will build a bridge, peter. In the meantime I am stroking your ear comfortingly from midtown

  --

Need and MJ’s weight pinning him to a mattress brought sleep but not necessarily comfort. They both thought that this was a sick joke someone had played on him that was now destroying his psyche. They thought that the couple pointing him back towards the cosplayers had been in on the joke.

Peter would have agreed with them if it wasn’t for the Spidey Sense. Everything else lined up perfectly.

Ned sighed in the morning and told Peter to go talk to Wade.

 --

 Wade’s hallucinations were, by far, more auditory than visual, but he stayed quiet while Peter talked his ear off over the phone in his locked office. He waited until Peter had run out of words to describe the feeling of impending doom and then huffed a bit of a laugh into the receiver.

“Them Star Wars people are unreal, Pete, you know this,” he said. “Look at Ned.”

Ned was perfect.

“Take off those rosy shades, hon. Now, look again.”

Ned had perhaps memorized the entire scripts of the first three movie and 90% of the spaceship names and the jedi lineages.

“Uh-huh. Keep going.”

Peter didn’t want to.

“We all gotta do shit we don’t want do.”

Fine.

Ned’s goal in life was to go to his wedding in a stormtrooper suit.

“Keep going.”

Every Lego project they’d built together since 13 years-old had been a Star Wars-related one. When Ned had decided to move out of his parents’ place, he’d shed actual tears over MJ and Peter mutually suggesting that he sell some of his memorabilia.

“Will this delightful buffet before our very eyes, what is the likelihood of your two pals being drunk larpers in too deep to quit?” Wade asked.

73%.

“Uh-huh.”

“Thanks, Wade.”

“No problem. Although, now I gotta see this. You said they were behind Kitty’s? You think I can get a stormtrooper costume in 8 hours?”

“They’re not still gonna be there, Wade,” Peter huffed. “It’s 10 am.”

“You ain’t know that. What if Luke Skywalker’s a useless drunk, huh? You ever think of that?”

No.

“What’d he look like?”

Peter groaned.

“He looked like Luke Skywalker,” he said. “Blond hair, blue eyes—sort of like a chipmunk that forgot its stripes.”

“I’m onto you, Skywalker.”

Peter hung up to Wade’s cackle. He slouched low and tapped his pen against his desk. Then against his fingers.

He stared at the edge of his keyboard.

“What’s the weirdest thing you could imagine, Pete?” he asked himself.

 --

 PP: sam

SC: yeah?

PP: do you like star wars?

SC: nah

PP: you’re perfect

PP: do you believe in past lives?

SC: like spiritually or culturally? I know I was a cult-kid for a min there but before that we were Buddhists and like, past lives are part of the package

PP: that’s cool. What do you think of people being reborn as themselves again like, 500000000 years later? From a galaxy far far away?

SC: I don’t think about those people

PP: okay well, hypothetically. Let’s say that you were going to imagine someone who embodied that whole spirit. Who would it be?

SC: Buddha

PP: not buddha

SC: is this a riddle? Is it Jesus?

PP: THOR. Thank you this has been helpful ily bye

  Mr. Stark asked him over a cup of viciously black coffee why Peter was seeking out the demigod of his present nightmares.

That usually meant that he and Thor had disagreed on basic physics principles again. Peter took that also to mean that the demigod was still in the building. Possibly loose.

“He’s with Banner,” Mr. Stark said scathingly.

“Thanks, you’re amazing,” Peter said as he sailed out of the room.

 --

 Thor was sitting on Dr. Banner’s lab table, despite Dr. Banner telling him to get off no fewer than two times in the five minutes that Peter was in there, schmoozing and making pleasantries. He warmed Thor up to the home-run hit by asking him all about past lives and present lives and what the soul was on Asgard. Thor was only too happy to explain a load of nonsense that made Banner roll his eyes and poke at his muscles with a thermometer.

“So, hypothetically speaking,” Peter drawled in a very casual lean, “With the infinite galaxies and universes, etcetera, there could be one where Star Wars people exist. And so hypothetically, they could get reborn into a universe like ours.”

Thor blinked at him.

“You remember the laser swords?” Dr. Banner deadpanned.

Thor lit up.

“I suppose it’s possible,” he told Peter indulgently. “But if that was the case then it would be a long tragedy, no?”

…yes…

Say more, Thor-man.

“Well,” Thor said with a big, happy smile, “The series of events that unfolded in that story seemed to me to be one of triumph and tragedy. With one would come the other—that’s how these stories work, yes?”

…yes.

“So if Master Luke Skywalker and his companions arrived into our space here, then they must experience the same in order to be themselves,” Thor said, bobbing his head in pity. “Perhaps what would look like a new start for such people would result only in terror and disappointment until the same conclusion was reached.”

Peter felt his own grin twitch.

“So it’s not impossible?” he asked.

Both Thor and Banner looked at him quizzically at the same time.

“Peter?” Dr. Banner asked. “Is this coming from somewhere?”

Peter’s grin twitched so violently, it turned into a grimace that even superstrength would not let him maintain.

“Can I borrow one of you?” he asked.

 --

 Wade was not happy to be met outside of Kitty’s in the middle of the day, especially because his stormtrooper outfit, in his words, ‘did no justice for the size of his balls.’

Peter was ignoring that. He dragged Thor past Wade’s righteous anger until he was standing on the place where the other two had stood the night before. Thor stood there gamely.

“There,” Peter said. “Any like, energy signatures?”

Thor glanced around and shrugged.

Wade scowled at him and hounded him off the spot so that he could stand there instead.

“I feel nothing,” he said, devoid of emotion.

“Same,” Thor said.

Damnit.

“Perhaps you are—”

The Spidey Sense smashed through all of Peter’s sense and screamed at him to get to the street.

Get to the street. Get to the street. Get to the—

There.

Across the way. Chipmunk, no stripes.

That was the guy from the day before. He was on the opposite sidewalk smashed in with the crowd, dragging a hand through his hair and laden with a backpack and two separate totes. He was wearing a strange set of clothes—a mash of casual and formal—and seemed to be in a hurry, the type of hurry that involved pushing past folks at a half-jog and not stopping at streetlights.

“Got ‘im,” Peter hissed.

“No shit?” Wade asked over his shoulder.

Thor made a sound of interest.

“I see him, too,” he said. “What incredible energy, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Wh—

Peter whirled on him.

“Don’t you fucking say that,” he warned. “I’m gonna go distract. You two, on my six.”

 --

 Peter broke four traffic laws on his way around the block. He swung himself around a corner and fucked up the collar on his labcoat and counted to four before stepping out right into ‘Luke’s path.

They collided. Luke stumbled back and dropped one of his totes.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Peter blustered. “Are you okay?”

Luke swore and dropped down without answering, collecting the odd ends of metal that had clattered out from his bag and now rolled loose over the pavement. Peter stooped to join, gathering rings and pipes of all sorts of sizes in his hands. Oncoming folks gave them a wide berth.

It took a moment for Luke to realize what Peter was doing, but when he did, his shoulders went stiff as a board.

“DON’T TOUCH THOSE,” he snapped, just as Peter made to pick up a little plastic bag with a wad of tissue inside it.

Peter froze.

“Oh. Sorry,” he said.

This time, Luke finally met his eye.

“Oh, Jesus. No. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” Luke blustered, “Thank you. I’ll—I’ve got them. Thank you, though. It’s okay.”

He took the metal out of Peter’s hands and stuffed them back into his bag. He snatched the plastic bag before Peter could touch it and put that on top.

“Excuse me,” he said as he stood. “Thanks again.”

And just like that, he hurried off past Peter down the pavement.

Peter watched him go.

“Catch?” Wade asked softly from the corner.

“Negative,” Peter said, reaching into his sleeve and holding up the thin aluminum tube he’d hidden up there by the edge of his shirt-sleeve.

It was shiny and longer than he’d expect for any plumbing project. The inside appeared to be coated with some sort of heavy, non-reactive material, and half of the outside had grooved bands carved into it.

“Someone’s building something,” he said.

“Mid-century sink?” Wade asked, taking the tube.

“Nope,” Peter said.

 --

 NL: That is a lightsaber hilt

NL: where did you get that? It’s like mega accurate. Was it etsy?

PP: I stole it

NL: give it back

PP: I can’t I stole it from Luke Skywalker.

NL: Peter.

NL: we talked about this.

PP: He’s Luke Skywalker. I swear on the grave of my mother

MJ: this is a problem. This is now an intervention.

PP: I will prove it. If he’s Luke Skywalker, then he will do ANYTHING to get this thing back.

NL: and if not?

PP: then I will wait two days before politely tracking down his home address and then I will return it via wall crawling

JS: UM

JS: SORRY

JS: PETER CAN YOU CALL ME?

PP: no

NL: no

MJ: no

JS: are

JS: are you sure??? Because there’s a guy in Reed’s lab right now talking to him and Sue, asking SUPER politely for access to—I shit you not—the crystals we picked up from that space trip the other day???

NL: …

PP: …

MJ: …

PP: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

MJ: fake

NL: no way

PP: WHAT’S HIS NAME, JOHNNY BOY????

JS: I can’t

PP: nope you gotta

JS: I can’t I’m gonna cry I didn’t ask for this

MJ: out with it

NL: please say it’s obi-wan

JS: HHHHHHHHHHH

JS: nope

JS: just a guy named Ben 🙃

PP: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

PP: I told you motherfuckers

JS: right. So like. Awkward. But you uh, know that hilt thing you have?

PP: …is Obi-Wan Kenobi about to beat my ass, Johnny?

 --

 There was something about putting the hilt into the palm of someone more famous than Captain America that made Peter’s knees weak.

It did not help that Luke Skywalker had flirted with him the other night.

It did not help that Luke Skywalker didn’t recognize him as Spiderman.

Nothing helped, really, especially when those big topaz eyes lifted and Peter could see that their rims were red and raw.

“Thanks,” Luke Skywalker—the embodiment of hope itself—said in a soft, defeated rasp.

Every alarm in Peter’s head said to save him. Save him from what? How? Who knew.

Ned and MJ seemed to feel the same way, if the pressure on each of his arms was anything to go by.

“Well, that’s all cleared up, then. Thank you so much for your help; it is deeply appreciated,” a stupidly pleasant gentleman with a perfectly combed beard and lovingly coifed light hair said to the room at large.

Obi-Wan Kenobi—pardon, Ben Kennedi—was far more handsome than any movie could ever dream to make him. What they’d done to him in the 1970s, Peter saw now, was a fucking crime. He watched as this beautiful human being set a warm hand on Luke Skywalker’s—pardon, Luke Naberry’s—shoulder and used it to steer him towards the Baxter Building’s front entrance.

He watched as the two of them, like true Master and Padawan, stepped out onto the landing and opted for the stairs. For one fleeting, unbelievable second, Luke looked back over his shoulder at all of them before taking the next step after his Master.

He was right the other night.

He wasn’t the only jedi. Not anymore.

“So that just happened,” Sue acknowledged for everyone after the door had clicked closed and the sound of footsteps had faded off to nothing.

“I’m going to cry,” Reed announced.

“This is single-handedly the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Ned said.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi walked into our kitchen,” Reed told Sue like she hadn’t been there right next to him.

“The empire is trying to establish itself under our very feet,” Sue said back a little viciously.

“The real empire,” Reed whimpered.

Wait.

No, go back.

“For real?” Peter asked.

Sue and Reed looked back at the rest of them and then exchanged a look.

 --

 Peter was sad now. Depressed and laid out on his side staring back at Valeria’s huge eyes on the floor while Ned and MJ and Johnny asked Reed and Sue two hundred clarifying questions.

Peter didn’t need the specifics. He was thinking back on the conversation that he’d witnessed between Luke and Han Solo—Han Solo who was tall with dark hair and dark eyes and an accent straight out of New Jersey. Solo who had probably been charged with forcing Luke to face the facts in front of all of them because he was the one who Luke trusted most.

But it had shattered them—both of them.

The New Hope had given up everything. He was tired. His heart was torn. He was jaded just like Peter had been that same night. He’d been avoiding the tightrope that Peter had already started crossing, though, probably looking for every possible way to not have to set the first foot on that wobbly line.

He’d walked it before.

Valeria reached out with a chubby, round hand and touched the side of Peter’s face.

“Spiderman,” she said with terrifying understanding, “Someone needs help.”

He wriggled in close enough to bonk heads with her.

“Baby Storm,” he whispered, “I think you’re right.”

  --

MJ thought that Peter needed to leave things alone. She pointed out that he had plenty of problems without getting involved in universe-saving. She gestured to Johnny and volunteered him for the job.

Johnny refused on account of needing to be the prettiest blond in any room. He claimed that if he wasn’t, he had to fight for dominance.

Ned was on the other end of the spectrum. He had 43 reasons why Peter should get involved with things, and 40 of them ended up in the same place which was ‘it would be cool.’

One of Ned’s better reasons, however, involved pointing out that Peter had already stolen half of a lightsaber. He was good and involved now, whether he wanted to be or not. And that was enough for Peter to decide to go on a hunt to give a formal apology.

He recruited Ned to help him locate Luke Skywalker.

That didn’t work.

They tried Luke Naberry.

That didn’t work either.

They ended up going through every possible iteration of every Star Wars name they knew and then filtered out the people who’d been named by exuberant parents and then filtered out anyone who didn’t live in New York and they ended up with fat lot of still nothing.

It was like Luke Skywalker didn’t truly exist in this world.

Until MJ found his Instagram by typing in ‘guys who look weirdly like Luke Skywalker.’

She held the phone aloft in triumph and they all gathered round to gape in awe at her intelligence and research skills.

Luke’s Instagram was nothing but pictures of coffee.

He had one selfie and this selfie was enough to have gotten him onto a BuzzFeed article. In it he was holding—you guessed it—coffee. Iced coffee. One in each hand.

He was shaking them, and one had been labeled with his name—hence the public connection made.

“Someone needs to tell him that coffee is not a food group,” Johnny observed.

“Maybe he works nights,” MJ said.

Ned lifted an eyebrow.

“Maybe this is his job,” he said.

There was a pause.

Some snooping revealed that Luke was an honest to god food website editor. He was a cameraman.

Repeat. Luke Skywalker, cameraman. He filmed all the food hosts for his company’s Youtube channel. He edited videos. He more or less blended into the background of everything, while having his finger prints on damn near everything.

This was a man after Peter’s own soul. They were kindred spirits in hidden identities, content creation, and suffering under a boulder of responsibility too great to cope with.

He had to find him now.

And after they had his Instagram it wasn’t too hard. He seemed to hang out in various parts of the Bronx and Peter just so happened to know some folks out that way.

 --

 Louis told Peter that he would never speak to him again if he found, befriended, and then didn’t share Luke Skywalker (the man, the real man, I’m not fucking with you, Louis). But he also recognized a place on Luke’s instagram that he seemed to be working his way through the menu of. He sent along an address and told Peter not to forget his promises.

Angel asked why he was looking for Johnny Storm in the Bronx.

Peter left Louis to rattle sense into her.

He took a walk on Saturday morning. A long walk. A long train ride, then a walk, then a half hour of squinting, and then, lo and behold, he found a blond guy banging his head into the center of an out door metal table across from a woman with heavy braids trailing down the sides of her neck. She was much older than him and drummed white-painted fingernails across her cheek as she thought.

Peter hid and called Ned and MJ for an ID. He peeked the phone’s camera out enough for them to see the other two and then snatched it back.

Ned was about to flip a table.

“That’s clearly Ahsoka Tano,” he said. “She—the braids, dude. Dead give-away. And she put ribbons in them, like what even is discretion?”

Peter didn’t know that person. He continued not to know this person, even as Ned dragged him through a trainwreck of Star Wars lore.

“So she’s a friend,” he said.

“She’s like a jedi, but not like a jedi, she was a jedi, but then she said ‘fuck the order’ and—”

Great. Peter was approaching.

Ned held his face in his hands. MJ told Peter to report back on his findings. Peter ended the call and inched closer, weaving through the crowd and slipping into the coffee joint to see what nonsense they were selling.

It was nonsense with lots of syrup. He could never say no to syrup.

He watched the two outside while waiting for his order. Luke gesticulated to his friend and she spoke, giving reasonable gestures back. He stopped her and dug out his phone and that little plastic baggy full of fluffy material. He answered his phone. His friend took the little bag and held it up to the light.

She frowned at it.

Luke pushed away from the table and walked away to take his call. Peter’s order was called. He grabbed it and swerved out towards the patio.

“Hello,” he said at the edge of Luke and his friend’s table. “Is this seat taken?”

Luke’s friend stared at him.

“It is,” she said. “Move along, hon, you’re ten years too young.”

Wow.

“For your friend?” Peter tried. “Could I leave my number?”

He had this lady’s attention now. She was looking him up and down, appraising. Peter tried not to flex. He stayed cool. Matt-levels of cool. He smiled winningly.

“Alright, why not?” she said, digging through her bag for a receipt and a pen. Peter beamed as he leaned down to scrawl his number down on the back. He got halfway through before he heard a step stop nearby.

“Look alive, kid,” Luke’s friend said. “Hey, Luke, this guy was just—”

“You again?” Luke said.

Peter lifted his head and brows.

“Hi,” he said. “I just wanted to apologize.”

There was a long silence.

Luke’s friend looked between them and then gave Luke a long, judgmental stare.

“You don’t have to,” Luke said. “Thanks, though. How did you find me here?”

Mmm. Beginner’s luck.

“Here,” Peter said, offering his number on the receipt. “If you ever need someone to talk to who gets it.”

Luke’s friend bit her lip and looked away in secondhand embarrassment. Peter ignored her for now.

“Thanks,” Luke said. “You don’t and you won’t. But you’re very pretty.”

Nice.

“You’d be surprised,” Peter told him. “Gimme a text. I’ll leave y’all alone now. Enjoy your coffee.”

He left. But not before hearing, “but that ass, Luke.”

 --

 Ned told him that there was no way that Luke was ever going to text him and he was disappointed in Peter’s hostage-taking skills.

But he was proved wrong two hours later and, for his crimes, had to admit Peter’s brilliance publicly.

 LS: hi sorry. This is Luke. This morning when you stopped by our table, did you happen to see a little plastic bag on it?

 Why yes. The one in Peter’s pocket right now? That bag?

 PP: hi!! I did, actually. You guys aren’t very subtle 😏

LS: it’s not coke

PP: I’m not judging

LS: no, it’s not coke, I swear. It’s something INFINITELY more important. Did you happen to see if it had fallen on the ground?

PP: ah, no, sorry. I didn’t see it

PP: OH NO

PP: oh my god I’m so sorry, I think I took it with me when I accidentally took your friend’s pen.

LS: I

LS: what’s your name?

PP: Peter ❤

LS: Peter, you have a fucking problem

LS: I’m starting to think that you want something from me. And listen, you’re a handsome guy, but I’m not available and my type isn’t kleptomaniac. What do you want for it?

PP: well you got me

PP: to talk

LS: about what?

PP: mostly about why you look like you’re a wet phonebook in a bad gutter

LS: a phonebook???? What era are you even from????

PP: I could say the same to you, sir.

LS: I

LS: wh

LS: alright touche. The point is that I’m not going to talk to you. I just need that bag back. It’s a life and death situation.

PP: what are they? They aren’t coke crystals.

LS: how would you know?

PP: what are you, a cop?

LS: NO. This is going nowhere. What. Do. You. Want?

PP: To. Talk.

LS: I’m not going to talk to you.

PP: then why did you ask me to rescue you?

 He held his breath.

 LS: I didn’t

PP: you did

LS: I didn’t ask you for shit. This is it. What’s your last name.

PP: Man 😊

LS: Man what

PP: That’s my last name.

LS: Peter Man.

PP: oop, nope, sorry. That’s someone else.

LS: …so I’m calling the police, now. That’s what we’re saying?

PP: depends. Do you still need to be rescued?

 Come on, Skywalker. Come on, remember.

 LS: I never asked you to rescue me.

PP: You did. Think back.

LS: I didn’t

LS: I just made a joke to

LS: WHAT AFAJSDFA DTTH E FUCK

 Peter cackled and let himself fall onto his back.

 PP: Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii ❤

LS: YOU’RE

PP: Just your friendly neighborhood guy ❤

LS: YOU

LS: you

PP: me

LS: THAT’s how the storms knew you

PP: yep 💋

LS: I don’t even know what to say

PP: it’s okay, you don’t have to say shit. The main thing I wanted you to know was that I hear you. And if you need it, I’ve got you.

LS: You’re literally trying to rescue me??

PP: it’s my job

LS: IT ISN’T. How have you never been arrested? how did you find me? Did you track my phone? Is it some kind of spider thing???

PP: yes

LS: I am legally obligated to kill you with the force now

PP: harder daddy

LS: ADaaSDASFSDFSdd

LS: oh my god Han is going to lose his gourd

LS: I’m sorry I just I can’t believe you of all people stole my damn hilt

PP: I’ve got……………………..sticky fingers

LS: go die

LS: no I didn’t mean that sorry that’s a thing with me and my sister. I mean, okay. You got me. Hero of NYC.

 Peter’s cheeks were starting to hurt.

 PP: I’ll bring them back to you.

LS: Please do, Ben’s about to have a stroke.

PP: you mean obi-wan?

LS: he’s convinced his cat ate them. There’s a staring contest happening. No one has blinked in two minutes and I don’t want to be here for the internal investigation.

PP: where do you live?

 Luke sent an address. Peter held his phone high and walked it into the living room where Ned was bitchily composing an Instagram post. He and MJ looked up at the same time.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Peter said. “Luke Skywalker and Co. live in a cemetery.”

 --

 It wasn’t a cemetery. It was a funeral home, but close enough.

Luke was waiting outside on the stoop in a cardigan about four sizes too big for him. It was there probably to protect him from the equally large ragdoll cat in his arms.

Peter smiled. Luke stared at him and then shook his head and went through the screen door. Ned gave Peter a biting look.

“Made friends, I see,” he said.

“We’re doin’ great,” Peter told him, hopping up the stairs. “Look at us, totally—”

“Insidious.”

Peter stopped and turned nervously to see through the screen door where Obi-Wan Kenobi had seized both of the cat’s cheeks. Luke continued to hold it with maximum doneness levels.

“Where have you been?” Obi-Wan asked the cat seriously.

“We have guests,” Luke said. “Take your beast.”

Obi-Wan snatched the cat out of Luke’s arms with contempt all over his face.

“You are a villain of the highest order,” he told it.

“Ben. Guests. Please evacuate. I am hosting negotiations,” Luke said.

“We should have named you ‘Sith.’”

“Ben.”

Peter was not going to laugh at Obi-Wan Kenobi. That was too surreal.

“Come in,” Luke said, returning to hold open the screen. “I hope you’re not allergic. There are two of them.”

T-two?

“The other one is Junior.”

Peter stepped over the threshold and found himself in a room that looked like a human birdhouse. It was full of surfaces that were almost completely empty, as though an enrichment object had once lived there but had been removed as punishment. Luke waved Ned and MJ in and accepted their apologies on Peter’s behalf.

Peter ignored them to lock eyes with a creature more stunning than any he had ever encountered. It sat on the kitchen counter by a single clear jar labelled ‘Not Spice.’ It blinked grumpy green eyes.

“Oh, it’s these people again?”

They all looked behind them to see Obi-Wan peering around a doorframe with the first cat draped over his shoulders.

“Kleptomaniac,” Luke said, pointing at Peter. Peter waved.

“Huh,” Obi-Wan said simply. “I will distract Ahsoka.”

He vanished. Luke grimaced after him.

“Let’s go talk in the back,” he said. “There are no bodies, I promise.”

 --

 The funeral home had a little deck and a yard small even for this far out in Queens. It was crammed full of plants that appeared to be in a competition to bloom. Luke invited them to sit and then left to make coffee.

Coffee, yes, how had Peter forgotten.

He peeked over the side of the deck down where there was a large stone set in the center of the garden.

“A seeing stone,” Ned whispered to him.

“Oh, how did you know?”

They all jumped.

Peter swore that Obi-Wan hadn’t opened that sliding door. How had—what—

Ned was at a loss for words in the face of one of his greatest heroes.

“I—uh. M-movie? I mean, sorry. It was in The Mandalorian, second season, with the—”

“Yet more television,” Obi-Wan said derisively.

They all stared.

“Can you teleport?” MJ asked him.

“I thought you were bothering Ahsoka?” Luke asked, from inside. He squeezed past the man and his cat with three glass mugs in hand. He set them down on the little square table off to the side of the desk railing.

“I was, but then I got curious,” Obi-Wan said. “And I lost Junior.”

Luke stared at him.

“I’m going to lock you in the basement,” he said.

“Try, try, and try again,” Obi-Wan told him, petting his beloved cat’s head.

“Do you even know who Spiderman is, old man?”

“More television.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Peter had to keep a conscious watch on his jaw, lest it fall open in the face of the most handsome, clueless man on the planet. He watched as Obi-Wan, disgusted with all this ‘television’ nonsense skulked back off into the guts of the home. Luke shut the door behind him.

“So,” he said, holding out his hand. “We’re talking. Fork ‘em.”

Ah.

Fair was fair.

Peter produced the plastic bag from his pocket and handed it over. There was a shout somewhere inside followed by someone going ‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’

“Ben keeps our home ghost free. He terrifies all the wannabee haunters,” Luke said simply. “Thank you for these. I imagine it’s somewhat of a shock to learn that it’s all real.”

It was, but it wasn’t the weirdest thing Peter had encountered by far.

“How long have you lived in New York?” he asked conversationally.

Luke gave him a weird brow.

He seemed smaller than before in that enormous cardigan. Certainly smaller than the movies made him seem. His face was a little thinner too, and his lips seemed to slope into an almost permanent pout.

“About twenty years,” he said. “We were born in California, but Anakin moved us here when we were eight.”

Anakin? Like, Darth Vader, Anakin?

“’Luke, I am your father’—yeah, that guy,” Luke said with a scoff. “Except, you know, he ain’t dead. And he’s the only one who can make Ben remember that tea isn’t a meal, so we keep him around for that and to scream back at Leia.”

Peter was already completely lost to the dynamics of this household. It wasn’t like the books and movies—Ned’s twitching for his phone to take notes was proof enough of that.

“That’s awkward,” MJ said. “So did y’all do like, collective counselling for the past life shit?”

Luke deflated and moaned into his hands.

“It’s not past life shit if your damn name is the same,” he said. “It’s complicated.”

It sounded like it.

Imagine growing up with your apparently-Star War-obsessed father and uncle who’d built a home and a business (presumably) around that shit, only to find out later that they’d done it because it was literally their religion.

What a trip.

“When did you find out?” Peter asked gently.

“Oh, you know. Last week,” Luke said with a bitter grin. “Quit my fulltime job. Dumped my ex. Broke my lease and now here I am. Once again. Back at this place.”

“Do you want a hug?” Ned asked into the awkward silence.

“You’re very sweet,” Luke said. “If I touch another human, I will start crying and never stop.”

Yikes.

Barely holdin’ on by a thread there, buddy? How’s the hyperawareness going?

“Why does it matter, is my question. For you, I mean,” Luke said with a suspicious squint. “You fought a goblin guy, didn’t you? With a hover board?”

Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh, yeah.

Yeah, Peter sure had done that.

“And like, the bird dude? Didn’t you down a plane?”

Perhaps.

But Luke had blown up the Deathstar, no?

“These things are not equivalent,” Luke said flatly. “I joined a rebel alliance. There were loads of us.”

Mmm. Perhaps so.

“God, how old are you even? You look 22.”

Peter gawked.

“I’m 27,” he said.

Luke did a double-take.

“That’s a lie,” he accused. “Tell the truth or be compelled.”

“By the Force?” Ned asked hopefully.

Luke blinked at him. He pointed at the glass sliding door which revealed Obi-Wan holding Junior the cat above his head by the kitchen sink.

“The Force,” he said.

Ned’s face fell.

“Do we not have the Force, here?” he asked.

Luke flinched.

“Listen,” he said abruptly, “We’re workin’ on it. This isn’t our original galaxy. The rules are all different. The only one who’s managed to make even a spark happen is Obi-Wan so far, but as soon as we find Master Yoda, it’s over. We’ll already have won.”

“You lost Yoda,” MJ mused.

Luke stammered and caught himself.

“We lost a lot of people,” he snapped. “It happens when you shift galaxies. Anyways, that’s what the stone is for.”

MJ glanced back at the stone and then leaned her forearms onto the small table.

“So, let me get this straight,” she said. “You jedi folks all popped up over here by some cosmic accident. You don’t have the Force. Most of you don’t even remember who you are. You lost your most experienced Master, and you’re going to fight the Sith?”

Peter stirred his coffee nervously.

Luke’s eye twitched.

“We don’t need the others,” he said. “We only need the Force. To fight the Sith. Yes.”

MJ frowned deep and held her chin with both hands.

“So you need the thing you for sure don’t have the most,” she said.

Luke opened his mouth, but not before the window by the door snapped open and Obi-Wan leaned out to say, “We always have the Force.”

Luke covered his face in despair.

“I was listening from the kitchen window,” Obi-Wan told him lovingly.

“GO FIND CODY ALREADY,” Luke roared at him.

“I did, he’s right here,” Obi-Wan said soothingly, stroking his angry cat.

“The other Cody.”

“Oh, I am trying, don’t you worry.”

“Ben, so help me God—”

“Force.”

“SO HELP ME FORCE—”

Star Wars had really left out the part about Luke’s explosive temper. Peter winced, but Ned laughed and the sound seemed to have a calming effect on Jedi-on-Jedi crime about to take place in the kitchen. Obi-Wan appeared pleased with this development and emboldened. He wove past Luke out onto the desk and came over, cat and all, to point down to the seeing stone in the middle of the garden.

“Others who feel the Force’s energy will be drawn to it,” he told Ned fondly. “It’s how we got Luke back home.”

“It’s not,” Luke said. “You called me.”

“And so others will also come,” Obi-Wan said with confidence. “The most important thing is that we believe in the Force. And from that, we will find guidance and power and—”

“He means Yoda,” Luke translated. “He’s been putting frogs on it as an offering, even though me, Ahsoka, and Anakin told him that this is a human’s world. A human’s world, Ben. Even if he did eat them, he’s not eating them raw.”

“Don’t be discouraged by Luke’s attitude, he is very stressed,” Obi-Wan told Ned and Ned only affectionately. “I told him not to be, you see there are four of us here already, and the Chosen One is among us.”

“Anakin told you to stop calling him that,” Luke moaned, massaging his temples.

“He was the first to be aware of our present situation,” Obi-Wan said.

“He took a hallucinogen and had a paranoid breakdown,” Luke pleaded. “Ben, please. Go inside. Think of your blood pressure.”

“Perhaps, but it was a useful breakdown, was it not?”

“I am so sorry for him, he’s getting senile,” Luke said to the rest of them.

“Your energy is different,” Obi-Wan informed Peter out of absolutely nowhere. “Are you also Force-sensitive? Were you drawn to the stone?”

Er.

No.

Sorry?

“He’s Spiderman,” Luke said, gesturing pointedly. “Remember Spiderman?”

Obi-Wan did not. Peter suspected, actually, that Obi-Wan still used phonebooks, if he used phones at all, that was.

Luke took a deep breath and let it out.

“Okay, let me just lay it out,” he said. “We’re doing the best we can with what we have. You don’t have to get involved with this. We appreciate your help, but what would help us even more is if you stay out of it, alright?”

Yeah, okay. Sure. Peter could respect that.

“Amazing. And don’t tell other people.”

Understood.

“Unless they’re Force-sensitive,” Obi-Wan said. “In which case, ask them how they feel about rocks.”

Luke just stared at him coldly this time.

“You didn’t used to be like this,” he said dangerously.

“No, I used to be stressed,” Obi-Wan told him. “But you and Ani are doing that for me, so I have resolved to be a free spirit. Nice to meet all of you. Have more coffee. I don’t like this one; I will have it out of the house by sundown.”

He left, and possibly for good this time. No one knew what to say in his absence.

“So,” Peter tried, desperate for something to break up the tension. “You said a few days ago that you were looking for someone?”

Luke finally stopped making growling faces towards the sliding door. He lit up like a bulb.

“I am, actually,” he said.

 --

 Luke was looking for a very particular person named ‘Din.’ He described him as ‘six feet tall and covered in armor.’ He asked if they knew of such a person.

Peter had to shove a hand against his mouth in case he made an unwanted connection between this description and Obi-Wan behavior.

“Haven’t,” MJ said. “Who is he?”

“My husband,” Luke said.

Ned choked.

Peter choked.

MJ tilted her head.

“You have a husband?” she asked. “I would have remembered a husband in that series.”

Luke leaned his chin on his palm and gazed sideways over the city. He seemed to sigh.

“I don’t know why he isn’t connected to me in the media created here,” he said. “It’s probably because he’s always been very shy.”

Oh, aw. Peter loved that. The contrast between them was heart-warming.

“We had a son together,” Luke said. “His child. He brought him to me. One of my students, at first.”

Hang on a minute here.

Peter exchanged a glance with Ned. Ned tried very hard to pick a way to approach this sensitively. He landed on asking, “What was his name again?”

“Din,” Luke said. “Din Djarin.”

Ned cringed.

“He was a Mandalorian,” Luke explained. “Very, very, very shy. Like, he would rather chew off his own leg than make small talk with a stranger. I think, before I knew all this, I was still subconsciously looking for him. All my exes are the same type.”

That—

Okay, so like.

Did these people own a TV?

“Do we look like we own a TV?” Luke deadpanned. “No. If Ben senses anything bigger than a datapad happening in this place, he’s driven to madness and breaks it.”

UH?

“He doesn’t actually break it,” Luke sighed. “He just finds a way to make it unusable—putting clothes on it, disconnecting the monitor, that kind of thing. He thinks they waste electricity.”

What a guy. Peter wanted to put him and May in a room and see what conspiracies they could spin together.

“Why do you ask?” Luke asked.

Ned cleared his throat.

“Do you have a, uh, datapad, then?” he asked.

 --

 “DIN. That’s DIN. He’s got his own show. Oh my god, that’s—stay right there. Don’t move.”

Bless this man. Peter wanted to hug him so bad. They’d lost him to the staircase leading up from the second floor to the attic. Peter wondered who he was showing the tablet to.

Maybe Obi-Wan?

“I told you this already,” a voice up there said.

“LOOK AT HIM.”

“You’re killin’ me, smalls. We had this exact conversation last week. Did you forget?”

“You knew where he was.”

“Alright, alright. Downward march.”

Anakin fucking Skywalker came down the stairs with a handful of Luke’s shirt in one hand and the tablet shoved under his other arm. He paused and frowned at the three of them in the kitchen frozen in shock, and then apparently decided that that didn’t matter. He carried on dragging Luke with him towards the kitchen counter. He dropped the tablet onto it and Peter realized that the lower half of his sleeve on that side was empty.

He watched as the guy let go of Luke and chased the not-angry cat off the counter, cursing.

“Alright, this?” he said, tapping on the tablet. “Is the link I put here.” He rapped the same finger on what Peter now saw was a whiteboard covered in rows upon rows of symbols that he’d never seen before.

“Din here? Din here. You see?” Vader told Luke with untold patience.

“I can’t read that,” Luke moaned. “You lied to me.”

“It’s up in the kitchen, Luke.”

“You’re a liar and a cad. Do it in Basic.”

“This is Basic.”

Oh, dear. All that fanfic about Luke meeting Darth Vader and having a breakdown was looking real embarrassed now, wasn’t it?

“If it’s Basic, why can’t I read it?” Luke demanded.

“Because, like I told you last night, the night before, and the night before that,” Vader said painstakingly, “It doesn’t all come back at once. It’s going to take time.”

“We don’t have time,” Luke snapped.

Vader leaned his head back with half-lidded eyes. Luke didn’t look even remotely like his kid, even with him looking all pre-quels-like now.

“We talked about this, too, remember?” Vader asked.

Obviously not. Luke was distressed. He had eyes only for the tablet now.

“No, of course not, silly me,” Vader said. “Why are humans here?”

“Ahsoka went home,” Luke said.

“Thank you, that was not my question.”

“What was your question?”

“Why are non-order humans here?”

“I told you, Ahsoka went—”

“Son, I will kill you if you continue to act like Obi-Wan,” Vader said without missing a beat.

“You can try,” Luke said offhandedly. “But only one of us has two handed grip.”

There was a long stare.

“It’s Obi-Wan,” Vader told him. “Why do we have living guests?”

He gestured back to Peter, Ned, and MJ like they were flies on a set of blinds.

“Oh, because that’s Spiderman and he stole your kyber crystals,” Luke said.

Vader rounded on Peter, and Peter actually felt fear.

Vader blinked once.

“This may as well happen,” he decided somehow placidly. “I’m going back upstairs. Where did your grand-master go?”

“Into the mist,” Luke said. “Can you feel Din?”

“Negative, ghostrider.”

“When the Force chooses you first out of favoritism, can you feel for Din?”

“Ah yes, can I feel for your Force-repellant life partner with all of the Force energy that I do not have? Yes, I sure can.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Anytime, primary monstrosity of my loins.”

UM?

This felt a little hostile for Peter’s tastes. Not that it wasn’t earned. Clearly it was earned. It was just horrifying.

“Guests, you are dismissed,” Vader said in their direction. “Unless you’re drawn to the rock outside, in which case, you may stay. Otherwise, do not darken this doorstep again, or else we will leave you with the other dead in the morgue.”

“Thanks for bringing the crystals,” Luke said from behind him. “And for talking. I do feel better, actually.”

 --

 They left the funeral home. Obi-Wan was outside by the mailbox as though waiting for them. Peter wasn’t sure he had any emotional energy left to approach him with.

“Thank you for speaking to Luke,” he said as the three of them attempted to pass unnoticed. “It’s good for him to talk to others his own age.”

Uh-huh. Good night, sir?

“Good night, Peter, Ned, and Michelle.”

They hadn’t given their names.

They definitely hadn’t given their names.

 --

 Ned wasn’t sleeping for two years. He made this clear with a lot of clapping gestures and then rolled around on the floor, talking about all kinds of shit that Peter couldn’t decipher. MJ watched him and flicked her eyes up to Peter with concern on her forehead.

“That family is cinematically dysfunctional,” she said.

Correct.

“They’re barely their own characters.”

Correct.

“What now?”

Peter wasn’t sure. The best he could think of was to just keep an eye on the situation. Maybe check in every couple of weeks?

“If you say so,” MJ said. “I think you made Ned’s life, by the way. Good job.”

 --

 Peter tried checking in every two weeks. It started because he happened to hear of a tunnel collapsing in Queens nearby the funeral home. He texted Luke to ask if he needed a save and all he got back was a ‘well, not anymore.’

After that, Peter kept a close eye on happenstances occurring around the city. There were more than he bargained for. And when he glanced at Luke’s Instagram after the first week after the tunnel collapse, he noted that two of the nails on the hand Luke held his coffee to the camera with had gone completely black.

That was worrying.

Peter was used to be the danger-prone asshole in his friendgroup. He did not like this role-reversal. MJ asked him sarcastically what the problem was.

He texted Luke again.

 PP: how many nails do you have left bro?

LS: we put a hole in one to release the pressure

PP: that don’t sound great bro.

LS: it’s fine. Oh, but good news

PP: oh?

LS: the most predictable thing ever has happened. The Vader has regained force power

PP: that’s worrying

LS: ? why?

PP: won’t he go dark?

LS: ah, no. He fucked up and raised me and Leia with Ben this time after our mom died. He had his chance to go dark and traded it for 8 consecutive hours of sleep instead.

PP: I truly don’t know what to say

LS: It’s fine we did 12 years of family therapy after the accident so we are no longer on the DSS watchlist

PP: I know less what to say

LS: he won’t find din :/

PP: is that your priority right now?

LS: aren’t you supposed to be spiderman or something? Don’t you have chaotic things to say?

PP: you know normally I do, this is literally out of character for me. but I think you also might be absorbing my chaos.

LS: that’s fair. I have that effect on people. Hey, is your buddy Ned available to chat? He knows more than I can remember about my old life. Can I borrow him?

 That sounded like a horrendous decision.

 PP: yeah let me get you his number.

LS: thanksssss

  --

Ned reported a few days later that his services were needed at the funeral home. He was leaving them all now to befriend Luke Skywalker as was his true destiny.

He came back a few hours later and reported that his services had been helpful and he was pleased to say that Darth Vader was now the official herder of ‘wans’ in the house. This included all Obi-Wans and padawans.

He seemed to be the only guy there who could like, retain information given to him for some reason. He accepted this as his lot in life and went around repeating the same things to the others ad nauseum until they finally stuck for them.

Peter wondered if that was his personal hell.

Ned didn’t think so. He thought the guy was pretty chill about it and had probably been doing it for a while now. He did it more for Ahsoka Tano and Luke than he did for Obi-Wan. Although that was probably because Obi-Wan appeared to be on a hunt that made all non-relevant information given to him slip off his back like water.

 --

 Another two weeks. Another text.

 PP: hey luke, I saw you drowning on the news. You okay?

LS: GOD my ex-workplace keeps calling welfare checks on our house. We’ve had more cops here then flies these last few days.

PP: ex-workplace is one way to refer to your old job. Sounds like they cared about you. What did you do?

LS: preschool teacher.

 Peter was going to lose his shit right here on this bed.

 PP: was that your calling?

LS: that was Luke Naberry’s calling. Luke Skywalker’s calling is to make the lightsaber go vrrrrrrm

PP: you honestly terrify me

LS: thanks han says the same thing. OH. HE FOUND CHEWIE.

PP: no shit??

LS: yeah I told Ned, not you. But yeah. He found him lugging boxes for a bodega. And now they both work at the same bodega. Which like, objectively, is a bad thing because Han was a UN translator.

PP: I’m

PP: sorry

PP: what?

LS: I know he was all respectable and shit. It was awful. I can look at him again without feeling like I’ve failed in every part of my life.

PP: dare I ask what your sister does?

LS: lawyer

PP: not senator?

LS: we’re not old enough to be senators.

PP: every moment becomes more concerning than the next. You fascinate me. This is why they put you in like, all the films.

LS: because I’m sexy yeah

PP: that too

LS: not to you. I’m off-limits bub. I’m married.

PP: how’s that going for you?

LS: Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

PP: I see. So no Din yet?

LS: I will find him if it kills me

PP: that’s so romantic. Hey you should watch that series. They gave him a little green yoda in it. Really cute.

LS: that’s my son you piece of shit

 There was no winning here.

 --

 MJ asked him a few weeks later if he was still keeping up with the Jedi drama since the whole city had recently decided that Peter was a snack.

Obviously he hadn’t.

She told him not to worry, Ned had. She told him to talk to Ned, so he went and talked to Ned with a heatpad in one hand and a coldpack in the other.

Ned patted at him sympathetically and informed him that Luke had reunited with the Force. It was going poorly for him, mostly because the Force wasn’t used to people being in touch with it in these parts of the universe. It kept telling each of the jedi that there was a disturbance and then luring them to each other to fight to the death.

Luke described it as the Force-equivalent of an auto-immune disease.  

They’d taken to gathering in the living room of the funeral home to meditate in a circle, as though to calm the Force’s anxiety while scenting each other for protection.

It had a 40% success rate. Everyone was sleeping in locked rooms for the time being, just in case someone got compelled to do something rash.

Peter asked Ned if he’d finally lost his crown as King Chaos of NYC.

Ned patted him on the knee more firmly than before and said that he could regain his crown by introducing a calming element into the jedi household.

Peter had his pride to defend, so he asked what that element ought to be.

  --

Din Djarin, the Mandalorian, the leader of all Mandalorians, was bound to have a name that looked nothing like the one they had for him. Luke nearly exploded when Peter approached him to asked him (and his taped fingers) more about who Din Djarin was outside the name.

They proceeded with caution, however. So far, Peter and Ned had discovered only dissonance between Luke’s account of his life partner (his ‘heart, stars, sun, and sand’) and the guy on the screen for the tv show. That was to be expected, given that they had met Luke now and learned of his somewhat explosive personality.

But even still, Luke’s description of Din Djarin as ‘kind, compassionate, tender, shy, emotionally stable, dependable, sweet, caring, and hunky’ seemed slightly biased.

Peter just wanted to know how tall this guy was. Hair color. Eye color. Skin color. Blood type. That kind of shit.

Luke said that Din had brown hair, brown eyes, Type Who Knows What blood, and was about six feet tall. He had no idea how much he weighed. He’d never had need for that information. He knew that Din was human, which was probably helpful in a galaxy far, far away. He knew that he spoke Mando’a as his first language, then Basic, then a whopping fifteen others. And he knew that Din was probably looking after their son.

Vader asked Peter over a mug of coffee (also labeled in the funeral home’s cabinet as ‘not spice.’) if Spidersenses could overcome a dearth of information. It took Peter a few moments to realize that he was sympathizing with him.

“You’re not going to find Din,” Vader told Luke. “You need to look for the kid. You’ll find the kid first, you always have.”

Luke took his coffee and poured it down the drain.

Peter decided that he didn’t want to get in between that burgeoning battle. He told Luke to text him if he remembered anything else.

  --

Wade was pissed that Peter had been meeting and ‘cavorting’ with Luke Skywalker without him. He claimed ownership of the Din Djarin mystery in order to cram himself into Luke’s good graces. But quickly, he ran into the same stumbling blocks as Peter.

Din Djarin was six feet tall with brown eyes and brown hair.

That was what they currently had to go on.

Wade would have torn out his hair if he had any, but he stopped himself and accepted the challenge. Peter watched over his shoulder as he chicken-pecked his way into a list of social security numbers held by the NYC State ID issuing department and started methodically filtering names that did not sound like ‘Din.’

He started broad with all ‘D’s and then narrowed it down further and further and further until he was left with a shitload of Daniels.

He stared at the screen before him and vibrated.

Peter massaged his shoulders before he cracked.

It helped. Wade started filtering by height, then by eye color. Then by hair, and only ended up with several hundred people.

He vibrated again, but this time, Peter couldn’t help him.

He sighed. Wade said that there had to be a better way to do this. He got up.

  --

Wade made about four thousand missing posters with the name Din Djarin on them which he recruited the whole team to plaster up around NYC. This was not a request.

Miles asked him why they were doing this for a tv character and had to be let in on the gig.

He lost his shit.

Louis tried to retain his shit.

Angel still didn’t know how the whole jedi thing worked.

Dave hummed and haw’ed and took his time in calling bullshit. Wade asked him to look deep into his eyes and ask if he was entertaining bullshit that fine evening.

Dave changed his opinion and took a stack.

  --

There was no way that shit was supposed to work. There was just no way. A) because Wade had the worst ideas of all mankind and B) because Peter had the worst luck of all mankind. So the two of them together should have destroyed all the prospects of success for that job.

But instead, while they were hatching a new plot involving setting up a sham sociological study for people who responded to Star Wars names, Wade’s phone went off.

He grabbed it and opened the message and lo and behold right there was a note that read,

“I hope you are not a reporting body because this is going to sound certifiably insane, but I think I might be the guy you’re looking for?”

Wade screamed.

Peter scolded him not to get too excited too soon. They had to see the man first.

Wade texted furiously, asking for a picture and got a message back that said, “please do not dox me.”

They got no answer until Wade promised not to dox the guy.

And then they got an image of a man with brown hair and brown eyes with olive skin. His face was remarkably square. The picture wasn’t just him, though, he had in his arms a little boy with a head covered in tight ringlets. His eyes were so dark they were nearly black and he was maybe two years old.

The caption said, “apologies, my son needed to be in the picture.”

Wade cooed and entered Dad Mode to ask how old the baby was and what he liked to do and Peter lost the fathers to that small talk for a while before Wade oh-so-casually asked, “So you feel like you’re from outer space?”

“It sounds strange,” the guy on the other said wrote back, “But I do. Like every day I wake up and look in the mirror and something is wrong. I feel like I’m always forgetting something when I leave the house. I watched the tv show of the guy who’s name was on your fliers and the kid in it reminds me so much of my son. It’s eerie. They make the same sounds. He made the same sounds before we even watched that show.”

Wade whistled.

“I think this is him, Pete,” he said. “He called Baby Yoda a ‘kid’ not a yoda.”

Peter stared. He hadn’t even caught that. That was smart as hell.

“So what now?” he asked.

Wade sniffed.

“Get Skywalker to send you a selfie,” he said.

  --

PP: Luke are you pretty right now?

LS: My face is intact

PP: take a selfie and send it to me

LS: cannot do that. Face is intact is a baseline situation. Let me find an old one. Oh, they all have my ex in them. This is awkward.

PP: it doesn’t matter I can crop it.

LS: no I have to be cute or I’ll perish hold on

PP: are you sure you’re not Johnny Storm?

LS: yes, he’s got loads of muscles. Sent.

 Selfie acquired.

Luke looked very smiley in it. His eyes were blown out from the lighting, but it showed his sloping smile and his low, back-set dimples. Peter sent it to Wade. Wade sent it to his new friend.

They waited.

They waited five minutes.

Then ten.

Then half an hour.

Then nearly two.

And finally, Wade’s phone rang. He picked it up and set it on speaker so that Peter could hear.

“Hello?” Wade said.

There was a long pause.

“Where did you get that picture?” a low, almost smoky voice demanded on the other side.

“A friend,” Wade said sleazily. “You know him? He’s a cute little thing, ain’t he?”

It took the dude on the other side of the line worryingly long to respond.

“What do you want?” he finally asked.

Wade brought his head down in interest.

“What’re you willing do to?” he asked.

They waited. Peter didn’t know what was taking this guy so long to—

“Anything.”

Ah.

Okay. That.

That sounded about right.

Wade cackled.

“You know his name?” he asked.

“I do,” the man said.

“What’s his name then, pal?” Wade asked.

“It’s none of your fucking business.”

Holy shit. Holy shit. Peter clutched the back of the couch. Wade was grinning so hard, Peter could see it through his mask.

“You want him, you need to show me that you know who he is,” Wade said. “I ain’t got ‘im here, but I know where he is. Come on, big boy. Who is he?”

Peter could hear the man take in a deep, shaky breath.

“His name is Luke,” Din fucking Djarin, the Mandalorian himself, said.

  --

Din fucking Djarin’s name at the moment was Danny Jabaran. He stood six feet tall with a medium build and that baby of his in his arms.

He was not afraid of Wade.

He was not afraid of Peter.

The suits didn’t scare him; this man was a space warrior. The leader of the space warriors. Peter was humbled to stand in his presence, old jeans and tattoos and all.

“Vigilantes,” he acknowledged.

“Deadpool,” Wade said, offering a hand. “And this is?”

“Grogu,” Djarin said.

Baby Yoda lifted his big liquid eyes up to Wade and blinked twice. Then he wriggled around and hid in Djarin’s neck. Djarin put a hand on his back and didn’t drop eye contact.

“Tell me everything,” Djarin said.

  --

Ned screamed. Michelle screamed. Peter reminded them that he had neighbors and invited Mr. Mand’alor to sit on the couch for a bit while he called Luke.

Michelle claimed the spot next to Djarin and asked Baby Yoda Grogu for his little hand. He studied her and hid again, making a prolonged sound of distress that Djarin cut off by saying, “Hey. Manners.”

This somehow made baby Grogu turn back to Michelle to stare at her offered hand.

He took it. She shook with him and then took hers away.

Grogu perked up and reached for it again.

“You’re the Mandalorian,” Ned said.  

Djarin looked right at him.

“A Mandalorian,” he corrected.

Ned blinked back tears.

“You’re so cool,” he creaked.

Djarin frowned.

“You...are too?” he tried.

Ned wept into a fist.

Peter left them to call Luke in his bedroom. Luke picked up on the third ring with the start of an ingrained greeting that sounded a whole lot like a customer service recording. He caught himself, though.

“I have someone I’d like you to talk to,” Peter said. “I think you might want to sit down.”

Luke’s unusual quiet on the other side made Peter grin.

“Are you sitting?” he asked.

“I’m sitting.”

“Alright, one moment,” Peter said, walking out into the living room. Djarin had edged far, far away from Ned, as far as he possibly could without being rude. He looked up when Peter came over and sat down on the arm next to him.

“Say hi,” Peter said.

Djarin frowned at him and then the phone.

“Who’s that?” he asked.

Peter waited. Djarin lifted his head over to see the phone’s screen.

“Hello?” he tried.

“Din?”

The Spidey Sense crashed through Peter like a tidal wave.

Djarin had gone completely still.

“Din? Is that you? Can you hear me?”

“Shit,” Djarin said, lifting a hand to cover his eyes. “Goddamnit. Jesus.”

“DIN.”

“Dank Fucking Farrik.”

“Oh my god.”  

Baby Grogu’s face snapped toward the phone with huge eyes. He grabbed at Djarin’s collar, then his jaw and started bouncing a little in his arms.

“Bu?” he asked.

Djarin couldn’t make himself move.

“Grogu?” Luke asked. “Hey, baby, is that you, bubba?”

Grogu grabbed Djarin’s face urgently, so that he couldn’t hide his raw eyes anymore.

He pointed at the phone.

“Yeah, I hear ‘im, kid,” Djarin said.

“MMMMM. Gib.”

“Ah. That’s not ours. We don’t grab. We ask,” Djarin reminded as Grogu pleaded for the phone. Peter snickered and gave it to him. He just held it, staring.

“Do you wanna see him?” Peter asked. “Luke, can we maybe video chat?”

“Y-yeah,” Luke said. “Hold on. Oh god, my face. Uh, hey Din are you still near-sighted, hon?”

Djarin huffed a laugh that turned into a whole-body tremor.

“I got contacts,” he said a little hysterically.

“You got WHAT?” Luke yipped, “Okay, no. No, I gotta. Be still, this heart. Okay let me just take off the butterflies. On moment, Grogu, Daddy’s just gotta dunk his face in the damn sink.”

MJ bounced her eyebrows at Peter as he gently took the phone back from Grogu and tapped on the camera. He offered it back the kid and received a deep gaze of wonder in return. Djarin turned the screen right-side up in his hands.

Luke finally turned his camera on and revealed himself to be very swollen in the jaw with damp hair and a cut very close to the rim of his left eye.

Grogu screeched.

Luke laughed.

“Look at you,” he said, “I’m gonna cry. Oh my god. Where’re your ears, pal?”

Grogu analyzed this reaction for 2 full seconds and then shoved the camera right into his dad’s forehead. Djarin took it from him and liberated himself so that he could see Luke who was clutching at his face, absolutely already sobbing, bless him.

He looked up to see Grogu and instead got Djarin and finally just broke right in half.

Peter swallowed back the growing lump in his throat. His eyes were starting to warm a little.

Djarin found a watery smile in himself.

“I know you’re not cryin’ because of me,” he said gently.

“Where’s your helmet?” Luke sobbed, wiping viciously at his eyes. “People are watching, you harlot.”

“I know,” Djarin said. “I lost it.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Luke.”

“This is all my fault. I should’ve—I should’ve—”

“Luke,” Djarin said again, full of warmth, “You died for us.”

Luke shook harder than ever.

“There is no greater sacrifice a warrior can make,” Djarin told him. “I was honored for you to have made it for me and our son. This has always been the Way.”

“This is the Way,” Luke stammered.

“I missed you,” Djarin said. “Where in God’s name have you been?”

“I was a preschool teacher in the Bronx, man, I dunno what happened,” Luke said tipping his face up to force the tears back in.

“In the Bronx? Where?”

“Uh, off Allerton and Lurting?”

Djarin started shaking with laugher.

“I work off Laconia and Mace,” he said.

“You what?”

“We’ve been blocks apart this whole time.”

Awwwwww.

“I’m going to stab myself,” Luke moaned. “I’m going to stab myself in the arm. I was right there and I sold out for my part-time gig barely weeks ago. Oh my god. I’m going to—move, old man, I’m suffering—Wait. Din, did you find your parents?”

Djarin stood up and held the phone out straight.

“Where are you right now?” he asked.

  --

Look at all these people hugging each other.

Look at them crying all over. There was a baby in there, wailing because he was so happy to be back in the arms of his other dad.

Aww. AWWWW. Peter was getting emotional again, he was going to see himself out.

“Wait. Peter.”

He looked up to find Luke holding a hand to him.

“Thank you,” he said. “You really are a superhero, you know that?”

Yeah.

Sometimes, he did.

 --

 The city had plenty of problems as it was, yeah, more now with a bunch of jedi running around, linking up with each other and spreading memory like mushroom spores. But it didn’t feel that much different.

What it felt like now was Ned showing Grogu how to hold his hand at the seeing stone in the funeral home’s back yard to make the Force happen while Obi-Wan reported cheerfully that the cat perched on it was still not levitating.

It also felt like watching Luke freak out over text to Ned and Michelle about his ex losing their mind at him dumping them after two years to marry this random mechanic within a week of getting together.

Peter got to see this from new angles, too, one of which was the bottom of the funeral home’s attic stairs, which Anakin Skywalker liked to sit on while his grandkids—both Grogu and Han Solo and Leia Organa (pardon, Leia Naberry)’s son—came over to show him things that he was very well aware of. These were stolen from him by Auntie Ahsoka and her friends who Ned knew and Peter did not.

And there was something warming about how even these folks—people from a galaxy far, far away, occasionally needed a Spiderman.

   --

[bakurik]

The breakup, aka, BonBon messed up bad. 

Rockstar Bonnie could handle a lot. Children running around the pizzeria? Fine. An annoyed teen throwing their lackluster breadsticks at him cause they didn’t want to stuck at their little sister birthday party? Easy. A few small pranks, annoying but what can you do? But when he had started a relationship with the broken bear that was salvaged from the back alley he never expected to have to put up for so much and only get so little in return. He had promised his funny bear that he would make sure his little hand puppet pal was fixed, and to his credit and help of the other assembles they had done so, but finally he had enough. The little thing was dangerous. Jealous. And it wasn’t worth it anymore.   “I am so sick and tired of getting pushed around like this. I am so SICK of having to fear death every day of my life, because of you.” There was a snap of plastic, well another snap. If the instrument wasn’t broke before, it sure was now. This wasn’t meant to happen like this. “You know, sure, maybe I tried getting along with you because of Freddy, and maybe I thought you were annoying at a few points in time. But I tried, I genuinely tried.” 

BonBon hadn’t meant to actually break the stupid thing. Sure, snap a few strings to annoy, make the larger bun have to spend the day rummaging through the back of the Pizzeria’s supply closet with helpy before the night was over so the owner wouldn’t catch them when ordering things. He didn’t think that a little prank would end like this, none of the rest ever did. No. No this was the rockstar’s fault. “..And what do I get? A swinging bucket of water to the head. Make my circuits lock up and then have me land right on my beauty.”

The little rabbit didn’t know what to say back. He just stood on his spindly legs, tiny hands clasped together as he felt a weird sensation wash over him. Bonnie was mad. Steaming. This wasn’t the jokey anger he was used to and it wasn’t the complete insanity laced rage he learned to cool with Freddy. Did he try to distract the bun? Tell him to go to sleep? That worked on the bear.. He didn’t know how to even begin to fix this situation. 

“I admit it might be my fault that Freddy doesn’t hang out with you a lot anymore. But it was his decision. And it’s not my fault you can’t even respect that.” The rockstar had started to pace, the broken neck of his instrument in one hand while the base rested on the floor. That was going to forever to try and fix with how splintered the plastic on the neck had gotten. “I’m going to have to have Helpy order another one, that’s going to take a week or more to get here. I’ll be out of order until then..” 

BonBon finally opened his mouth, “There should be another guitar in the back-”

“Really? ‘Cause I remember you ripping off the tuning pegs and flushing them while I was taking Freddy outback to see the stars a few days ago.”

The little bun didn’t think they would go down, or at least that is what he told himself. He figured it would clog up the thing, it would have been funny to see the date end with the big bun trying to fish out the things before the owner got around to unclogging them via the computer. The things seemed so much larger in his paw. Watching the rockstar he could see the utter exhaust seeping in. His normal droopy eyelids Were the pranks really taking that much out of him? Surely not. It was just harmless fun to break his best friend and the guy apart. All he wanted was more time with Freddy, he loved the bear. He was comfort for the bear. They had been apart so long, he didn’t want to be replaced by-

 "You don't want me in your life? Fine. You win. Keep the bear, keep your little weird relationship, i'm done." ….What? “I can do a lot better than that pile of scrap. And without you sticking your button nose into my affairs. You want to play partner, then go ahead.  Now if you’ll excuse me,” He reached down and placed the lower half of the guitar under his arm as he did so. “I have to go find some flex tape for my guitar since it’s now utterly broken.” Stepping closer he pressed his free hand to the puppet’s face, pushing aside the bun and not caring as the thin metal legs scrambled to keep stable but ultimately failing as he landed on his back. Sure it hurt but the pain wasn’t crossing his mind, there was a new emotion that was washing over him. He didn’t know what it was but it wasn’t something he had felt before. Did he really cause this big of an issue? Just a few pranks didn’t… Okay sure, he didn’t do this to anyone else but he didn’t have to. Chica was hardly around at night. She wandered, cleaned, things that kept her busy. That rocker Freddy only seemed to care about collecting coins the kids left scattered after hours with the fox. And Lefty….well nobody fully knew what to make of the dark bear. She was always so quiet so most never bothered her and in turn she didn’t bother anyone else. She liked the vents and Freddy used to say she and him used to be buddies but the little bun never had to worry. BonBon didn’t see her as a threat-

Wait...what?

Threat? Why would anyone be a threat to...no. No that wasn’t right. BonBon knew that Freddy cared about him more than anyone. They were once attached at the wrist, always together. Always having such fun with the children that came to the paties. They knew all the best knock-knock jokes, could sing in harmony, if someone was mean to the bear BonBon was the key to keeping him calm and stable. Though the best times and the worst times. He made sure Freddy was okay even when the laughs turned to screams. They needed each other. Freddy needed him. They were made for each other, they were family! Even when the scooper tore them apart and everyone was forced to rebuild into one. BonBon could remember the voices going dark first, the bun had done all he could to stay awake but he just became so tired…

Looking at the ceiling of the pizzeria, the bun had gone quiet but felt his ears twitch as a new voice started coming down the hall, “-eard tha bear in the back, poor thing.” He knew that voice. With the accent it must have been the fox.. “I feel bad for the lad-” The pirate must have been talking about Freddy. How long had he been laying on the floor? “Bonnie seemed upset too, but ya know how his temper be. Cool and calm but inside it’s all a mess in his circuits. Dat wee lil’ one wasn’t much help. Da bear was helpin’ tho. ‘Least I believed so.”  

Was Freddy okay? BonBon knew one thing, and that was that big emotions weren’t easily processed by his friend. Most of the funtimes were very advanced but Freddy was simple in mind. When things got too much he’d snap, that’s why the human had made himself. BonBon was the safety switch. And now...now Freddy was now without the safety switch. 

[warfear]

WHAT’S GOOD, PARTY PEOPLE ?     the name’s mads :    twenty - four summers young, in love with cj from dawn of the dead (2004), mortal enemies with amc’s the walking dead and so very excited to be here. thus, without further ado, below the cut you’ll find the basics—the general gist—about my horrible, poorly written bastard children. 

trigger warnings for : cancer, death, kidnapping, abuse and assault !!

APOLSKIS, JULIAN      —      twenty-four, comic store clerk.

BASICS :     born in seattle, julian moved to fort elms when he was a whooping eleven years old. why, you don’t ask. well, because he got diagnosed with a gnarly case osteosarcoma and his father took ONE LOOK at that hospital bill and vanished into thin air, that’s why ! so, mommy dearest took her kids and skipped town as well. for less horrible reasons, of course. since then, his cancer has came and went and came back again. until finally it went for the last time, taking his leg with it as it did. he’s cancer free now ! three years and counting. we do love that for him … depressing facts aside, he’s in a punk rock band because we gotta Stick It To The Man. they suck but he’s decent on the drums and that’s all that matters. him. yeah, he’s a bit of a prick. a lovable prick. loves to play the devil’s advocate and hates talking about his feelings because ~ romantic trauma ~. but other than that, a decent guy, alright ! put some respect to his name. 

WANTED CONNECTIONS … 

ex - girlfriend :     bringer of trauma … she was his second ever girlfriend and their relationship was good, okay ! lasted almost two years. and then, without warning, she dumped him, THROUGH A NOTE. left without a word and that was that. a big bitch move, i’d say. 

mother :     the best mom there is ! worked three jobs to support her family after the deadbeat left, and is overall the best person juli knows and will ever know. she’s a second generation polish immigrant and very insistent on julian retaining his jewish heritage. pops was christian, so … gross. 

father :     not much to say about this bastard except he hasn’t spoken to his own children in thirteen years. not as much as a birthday card ! who knows where he is now. we’d like for him to be dead in a ditch but odds are he has a new family. i’d love for julian to knock him out, please hit me up for that. 

hospital buddies :     like i said, he spent most of his childhood in a hospital. so he must’ve made at least one friend there. they can be a teenager, they can be a senior citizen — as long as their friendship was thrust onto julian by sheer proximity and boredom. he’s obviously well now but i’d like for him to have a sliver of his past life close. 

DIMEO, BRANDON      —      thirty-five, mall cop.

BASICS :     very italian. a walking italian stereotype, really. his family is huge and he’s close with them all. too close. i’m talking yearly hunting trips, weekly family dinners, and a mother who still does his laundry. which means, yes, he’s a momma’s boy. a bit of a scrub, if you will. flopped out of the police academy in his early twenties, as he’d almost done high school, and settled for acting cop at the local mall. he’s a bit of a dumbass, and by a bit i mean a lot. unintelligent to the point where he can’t do basic math. emotionally unintelligent to the point where he can’t have a long - term relationship. we do love that. also a big fan of the charlie’s angels television series, AS HE SHOULD BE. he’d be an angel of charlie’s if he could be …

WANTED CONNECTIONS …

ex - girlfriend :     i’m talking first and only. probably didn’t get together until his mid - late twenties, and didn’t last that long either. probably had issues with his weird relationship with his mother, probably didn’t appreciate that he couldn’t clean his own house, probably wanted a man and not a little boy. she definitely dumped him. oh, well.

family :     he has A LOT. two parents ( i was gonna say obvi but is it obvi, i don’t think so. check yourself @ me ) and three brothers … but he’s the baby of the family, physically and mentally. i feel for his mother. i’d love for him to have a kid cousin, though. like one girl ( except his mommy ) he treats well. it’d be cute, shut up.

friends with benefits :     pretty self - explanatory. no strings attached, no commitment, no expectations … it’s all poor donnie here can muster in life. so do give it to him, please and thank. 

broskis :     he needs friends ! who aren’t other mall cops ( sorry egg take it up with HR ) … maybe dudes he’s known since high school, his OG home - boys. either to enable his antics or to call him out on his shit. i’ll take anything for brodawg over here. 

KINNEY, SAWYER      —      twenty-two, vet student.

BASICS :     god’s favorite. just kidding … i don’t think her love for him is much reciprocated. first dropped off as an infant @ the local church’s doorstep, then adopted. all is well ! no, her adoptive parents die in a car crash thirteen years later. she was there, too. sole survivor … even her baby brother passing away in the accident. shit’s tough, my dudes. she still has her older siblings, but who cares about them. was diagnosed with epilepsy shortly after ( she hates it, thanks ) and now lives with a disorder to remind her even more of the event. BIG YIKE LET’S MOVE ON … she’s a ray of sunshine ! loves animals and soccer to death. a social butterfly with no concept of personal space. insistent on not minding her business, plagued by a constant need to be liked by EVERYONE. book smart, emotionally intelligent … yet a whole dumbass. we love to see it.

WANTED CONNECTIONS …

cousins :     fun tidbit, after her parent’s death she moved in with her uncle and his children. so, give me those very children ! her siblings are both older than herself and i’m dying for some same - aged partners in crime here. who played soccer with her after school ? who tried beer with her for the very first time ? i am WAITING.

soccer pals :     captain of the local girl’s soccer team, since seventeen baby, sawyer’s in dire need of her soccer pals. y’all ever see the netflix original girls with balls ? yeah, me neither, but that could still be them versus the zombies. they’re all so close and athletic i NEED them to team up against the undead.

toxic church friends :     i’m not calling christianity toxic … i’m calling white church going pinterest loving bitches toxic. i just think it’d be neat for her to have people from that part of her life really pushing this ~ religious agenda ~ onto her further. you know, shaming everything that she does. WHY NOT ! can’t think of a single reason why not, actually.

someone to get under :     look … last year she got DUMPED by her boyfriend. it was rude as hell ! you don’t need to know his reason, okay … she did no wrong, mind your business … either way, give me SOMEONE ELSE for her to focus on so she can finally get over that skinny motherfucker. it doesn’t have to be reciprocated AT ALL, homies. she can thirst from afar … as long as her attention is redirected from ex - boyfriend to wow - possible - boyfriend. ja feel me ? cool.

OSWALT, KEVIN      —      twenty-one, waitress.

BASICS :     born in fort elms as rowan blake, this teensy bitch had a good life going. two parents, three older siblings, one cool ass dog… you get the gist. but all things must come to an end, no ? so, when rowan here was five years old, she was approached by a teenage girl by the name ryan, and booboo the fool as she was, rowan followed this older, much cooler girl right into a stranger’s car… and then rowan was no more ! she spent the next year thirteen years of her life as kevin oswalt, living with her new sister and new mother — creepily nicknamed mama. to say her life with the oswalt’s was good would be… well, it’d be a lie. because kevin wasn’t the first kid they ‘napped, and neither was she the last. lets just say that house was a shit - fest and we should be glad she managed to run away at the tender age of seventeen. by sheer luck, she wound up back in fort elms and by even more luck, she managed to get an education and graduate. unrealistic ? take it up with 2016 me. other than that super fun backstory, kevin’s baby. she likes books  ( always has, though it was her only form of entertainment for a good chunk of her life there )  and she likes french fries. she’s still discovering the world around her, even if she has been out and about for about four - ish years now. so if she’s a BIT NAIVE, then excuse her…

WANTED CONNECTIONS …

ex - boyfriend :     not to go into too many details but kev’s introduction to the dating scene was less than ideal… barely legal and kept under wraps for A YEAR. it sucked, okay. not a good first experience, IN MY OPINION. kevin has another but she’s stupid. EITHER WAY, that left her kinda fucked - up when it comes to relationships. so, when she started dating her other ex circa summer 2017, she was pretty not - that - into - him. sorry we can’t all be over our 30 year old boyfriends… she never even said those three little words and them bitches dated for a year. TRAGIQUE.

brother :     tragically, throughout the years, kevin’s brother is the single family member not picked up and that’s just… fucked, if you ask me. either way — his name is marcus blake but you can change his first to whatever ! he’s the sibling she was closest to as a wee bairn, alright. and i need him here… even if he wouldn’t know her as his sister anymore, but seeing as kev has managed to weasel her way into the blake family through mother and sisters REGARDLESS if anybody remembers or not, i’d say they’d cross paths anyway. oh, and he’s in a band… which isn’t to say juli’s, i mean it could be, but that’s not what i’m saying… anyways, that’s all.

bad influence :     kevin’s too nice. and i don’t like it. so, please, pretty please, give me a plot of pure mayhem. somebody less outwardly chaotic than pippa but more scheming, and maybe capable of convincing kevin to grow a spine. think penelope and josie in legacies… but not gay. i mean, it COULD be gay. i’m not saying it HAS to be gay… mind your business.

victim by proxy :     okay, hear me out… the oswalts are crazy people, and although kevin would like to be excluded from that narrative, she simply cannot. so, consider giving me somebody with some sort of connection to the kiddos missing  ( alternatively : to the man she shanked… girls, ya gotta read her bio, i’m not exposing her further :see_no_evil: )  so kevin’s guilt can just SKYROCKET. that’s fun, right ? make friends with some poor bitch who’s little bro went missing, knowing full well what happened… sickening, kev, get help.

ROSILIO, ODETTE      —      thirty-five, florist.

BASICS :     flaky defined. dropped out of high school, dropped out of california, dropped out of her own wedding … i mean, the list goes on. originally from mexicali, mexico odette moved to chino, california at the ripe age of five. her mother then proceeded to lose custody six years later. * that one vine vc * WAY TO GO, PAUL ! in and out of foster care since, eventually choosing to stay out for the remainder of her teens. until she got herself knocked up ( not by choice but ait ) and was forced to move back in with mommy … but hey, it all turned out fine in the end ! and when her daughter was four years old, she dipped forever. she’s since been living all over the states, only moving to fort elms five - ish years ago. and has indeed stayed put since. even if she did manage to pull a runaway bride. a bit of a bitch move, but at least she’s consistent. ish. because she’s not a bitch, okay, she’s simply … out of fucks to offer the world. can i get an amen. 

WANTED CONNECTIONS …

ex - fiancé :     like i said … left at the altar, that’s gotta knock you down a peg. or two. but she didn’t mean to stomp on his balls like that. in fact, they were very much in love at one point. dated for about two years until marriage was brought up and well, cold feet took over. and there’s no coming back from being a no show at your own wedding, is there. so that was that. marriage over before it even started. they didn’t get much of closure but that’s life for you.

mother :     a horrible mother, plain and simple. she was in and out of jail when odette was in her custody, mostly due to drug related charges which was … not cute, girlie was like eight years old. though who knows, maybe she’s cleaned up her act, and maybe she’s ready to get back in her daughter’s life. or maybe she’s just looking for money … either way, get miss marisa to washington !

employees :     i want … snotty teens, or early twenties bitches that she’ll have to manage. she’s had it with her own daughter, why not add more children for her to boss around. that, or somebody at work who she doesn’t wanna clock. an ally amongst the flowers. 

chino friends :     odette did indeed spend her early to mid teens on the streets and she must’ve made some friends along the way except for kai ( here’s your one mention of the simp @ salem ) … either some bad influences or some good ones. y’all ever seen the movie thirteen ? exactly like that. give me some blasts from the past to bring out the old odette.

[takadasaiko]

Clever Minds and Strong Wills (a Captain America fic)

FFN II AO3

Summary: Steve and Howard have a late night chat in the labs in which Steve learns more than most about Howard's family and his past. WWII fic.

Clever Minds and Strong Wills

There was rarely any warning when they showed up at the command center in London. Word filtered through the ranks that the Howling Commandos had arrived and the lab went into overdrive. It was a race to get the equipment repaired and upgrades implemented, often just in time to shove them right back out the door with only the Hydra tech they left behind as proof that they were there at all.

Today was different, though. They still hadn't had much warning, but at least they had a few days to work with the team to make sure everything functioned as it was designed to when they were out in the field. It was a shame that it took half the team in the medical wing to keep them there. From what Howard had heard, Gabe Jones, Dum Dum Dugan, and Steve took the brunt of the hit. Cap was, of course, already back on his feet like nothing had happened by the time they'd arrived back at HQ, but the others would need a few days minimum of time away from the chaos they functioned in.

Howard had thought that he'd have to drag Cap into the labs to stake claims on even just a few minutes, but Steve had stuck around longer than he'd expected. As the hours stretched on and the others filtered out for the evening, the two men sat in the quiet of the space. The conversation started and stopped, ideas bounced around for a bit before Howard lost himself in the work only to be pulled out of it by Cap's voice after an undetermined length of quiet.

"You know, last time I got any say in the designs was from a few thousand feet in the air."

Howard's hands stilled and his lips twitched into a lopsided smile. "Last couple. I snag the time when I can get it."

He heard Cap snort a soft laugh. "I always got the impression you offered to fly us when no one else would because you like the thrill."

"I have been told I get bored too easily," Howard chuckled and reached for a wrench.

"Do you always stay after everybody else is gone?"

Howard glanced around, realizing that they were the last two left in the lab. "Most nights." By accident, most of the time. He'd dive into a project and forget to surface until the wee hours of the morning.

He heard a soft acknowledgment from Cap, but then nothing more for a long moment. Finally he glanced back before swiveling around in his chair to look directly at him. "I doubt you need a lot of sleep, huh?"

"Not since the serum."

Howard tilted his head, studying him. "Had to have been a hell of a turn around. I saw your records before the procedure. Looked like you had every health complication in the book."

He wondered if the question was a step too far as he watched Steve expression shift. With the exception of the occasional conversation about Peggy Carter, they really didn't discuss personal matters, much less Cap's life before the serum. Slowly, though, the other man's tense expression softened a little. "It's amazing how little I think about it now. You'd think I would, but one mission to the next, I don't really have time for it."

"Your buddy Barnes doesn't give you hell about it?"

"Only when the other guys aren't around, which isn't much."

Those sharp blue eyes were fixed on him and Howard had to crush the urge to squirm. He wasn't used to being the one under careful observation.

Finally, Cap drew in a breath, settling back in his chair a little more. "What about you?"

"What about me what?"

"You've seen everything in my file, probably know my whole life story, but about all I know about you personally is that you have a successful company, you're the best pilot I've seen yet, and I still can't place what part of New York you're actually from." He stopped, amusement flashing through his eyes. "Oh, and you hate being called Mr Stark."

"Mr Stark's my father," Howard answered automatically, not liking where this was heading. He liked Steve. Respected him, but he had found out a long time ago that letting people get too close - letting them learn too much - was a dangerous business. He'd stuck his foot in it by bringing up the other man's past though, hadn't he?

"Is he still around? Your father?"

Yep. Up to the kneecap and sinking fast. His own curiosity had gotten the better of him. "I imagine so."

Howard saw Cap's face twist up like he was trying to find the missing piece. "Don't you talk to him?"

"Not if I can help it." He risked a glance over, a frustrated sigh escaping at the expectant look he was on the receiving end of. Yep. This was on him. Never should have brought it up. He waved his hand in the air, doing his best to keep his time casual. "We never saw eye-to-eye."

"On what?"

"Anything."

There was a long, likely thoughtful pause before, "He has to be proud, though? Everything you've accomplished? Everything you've done."

Howard wanted nothing more than to dive back into his work and ignore the question. He could kick him out, true. Come up with a semi-reasonable excuse or just be an ass to ensure Cap got the hint. He had no problem handling others around him that way, but there was something obnoxiously honest in those blue eyes. Rogers wasn't an idiot - far from it. He might not have had the same training or scientific leanings that Howard did, but the man was clever and one of the quickest learners the engineer had ever come across - but he was naive in a lot of ways. Sheltered. Fathers were proud of their sons. Families were close. That was just the way his world worked. Must have been a nice place to grow up. Safe.

"Nah," he answered at last. "He thought I was lazy. Wasting my time."

"That can't be true," Steve managed, almost as if hoping he'd misunderstood something.

Howard glanced around, re-confirming that they were alone. He spun his chair so his own dark eyes met those bright blue ones. "My earliest memories of my old man are of him chasing me out of whatever hole I'd found to tuck myself away in to read. Thought I was lazy and useless because I wasn't just like him. My guess is he's still selling fruit from the same overpriced vendors from the same rickety old cart on the same corner in the Lower East Side."

He risked a glance to see Cap soaking in more information than Howard had shared with anyone in a decade. Strange. That overwhelming honesty that Abe had seen in him was apparently contagious. He needed to watch himself there.

Rogers loosed a long breath, settling a little deeper into the chair. "We didn't have much when I was growing up either but… all I wanted was to be like my folks. They always did the right thing, even when it cost them. Especially when it cost them."

Howard didn't mean to snort. Not really. "I hate to break it to you, Cap, but no one's perfect." Even Captain America's perfect parents had a skeleton or two Cap just hadn't found. Everybody did. Idolizing then just because they were blood was a luxury Howard had never known. Never wanted to. It was t like he could have ever been what his father wanted anyway. He'd have sooner thrown himself off the Brooklyn Bridge.

"When's the last time you spoke to him?" Steve asked carefully.

"I left home at thirteen. Went to school and didn't look back." He'd left in the middle of the night without even a change of clothes with him. He'd lied his way into the prestigious school, but if his father had had half a notion where he was going he would have found a way to shut his plan down. The senior Stark has come to America at the same age looking for a better future, but instead had settled into society's expectations and had tried to teach his son to be complacent with the same. Howard hadn't had it in him. He didn't have a complacent bone in his body.

"Do you have contact with your mother?"

"A little. Usually get a letter from her once a year or so. Last time I was in the same room with her I had the audacity to offer money. I thought the old man was gonna come after me with his belt like I was ten years old again," he chuckled, shrugging. "Guess that was actually the last time I saw him. She's never without him, so we don't see each other. Her choice. She knows I'd cover the fair uptown."

Cap stared at him like he'd broken him. That look was exactly why he didn't like to discuss it. A look like he'd lost something. Couldn't lose something you'd never had, though, so what was the point? He did well enough. Hell of a lot better than if he'd stayed put.

Howard loosed a long breath and rolled his shoulders back, trying to straighten them out of their increasing slump. "Don't make a bigger deal of it than it is," he muttered. "And, uh….keep it between us, huh, pal?"

"Not a big deal, just a secret?" Steve asked, a quirked eyebrow accompanying his amused tone.

"You know how people are." From the look he received he wasn't entirely convinced that he did. "Born on the wrong street, wrong side of the tracks, you gotta be running a scam of some kind."

"Can't possibly be the fact that honesty isn't exactly you're go-to."

Well huh. Okay. With the physical changes that the serum caused, it was easy to forget that clever, observant mind that drew Abe to Rogers in the first place.

"Lessons learned," he said instead, shrugging.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's life. Coulda been worse, and I came out of it."

"Maybe he'll change his tune after the war's over."

"You never lose that damnable optimism, do you, Rogers?"

"I try not to."

Howard snorted, the sound amused more than not, and stood. Three in the morning. If he wanted even a couple hours of sleep it was time to call it a night. It was probably the easiest way to end this increasingly uncomfortable discussion as well.

"He should be."

Cap's voice startled him a little and he looked over. "Should be what?"

"Proud. You know, Dugan's only alive right now because the body armor you sent with us this last time took the brunt of the blast we were caught in. You've gotten us in places that no one else would touch and make sure we're ready to face whatever tech Hydra throws at us."

He paused and Howard found that he couldn't break the gaze that held his. He'd become accustomed to - and even expectant of in many cases - the high praise that accompanied his work by those around him, but Roger's words dug in deeper. He wasn't one for idle flattery and, unlike so many others, there were no strings attached to this. No quid or quo that exchanged praise for whatever the person wanted in return. No. Cap was just honest. Absurdly honest. Howard wondered if he'd ever get used to that.

The engineer cleared his throat. "Thanks, Cap," he mumbled, not entirely certain that was the right response, but it seemed to work out okay. Rogers flashed that grin that went all the way to his eyes.

The blond didn't leave as Howard packed his equipment away, but he also didn't press any further on the other man's family. They chatted about upgrades and design flaws and an upcoming mission that Steve wanted Howard to fly them in on. When they finally parted ways to catch as much sleep as they could before the next day officially began, Howard felt a strange sort of ease that he never found after his father found a way to bully his way into his thoughts. He had always been a stranger in that man's world and an oddity in the one that he wanted to belong to, but here - surrounded by soldiers and danger and tech he could only begin to unravel - he felt at home. Sure, Cap was right. He did plenty of good around here, but in the end he was fond of the people that surrounded him. Clever minds and strong wills. The Steve Rogers that wouldn't be told he couldn't enlist and the Peggy Carters that would be put behind a desk. The Abraham Erskines that wouldn't bend to oppression. They weren't pinned down by what society wanted to make them.

And to think he almost passed up the opportunity to join the SSR at all.

End.

Notes: I feel like there must have been so much more behind Howard and Steve's friendship for Howard to be so, so obsessed with finding him. You don't develop a life-long obsession like that for an acquaintance, even if you were involved in the experiment that changed their life. I can't help but think there was a piece of Howard, that kid from the Lower East Side, that found a connection with the kid from Brooklyn.

Might be more to come.... We'll see.

[soulofatiny]

Meeting Your Eyes

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jongho x reader (gender neutral)

genre: super fluff, my pals

warning: no warning unless the idea of college debt haunts you, like me

word count: 1k-ish

song recs while reading to get in the mood: Light by Ateez; Twilight by Ateez; Euphoria by BTS Jungkook

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you made it right on time for your scheduled college tour, the institution of your dreams KQ University

either of your parents couldn’t make it to the tour since they were busy working (probs to help provide for your tuition, aren’t ya lucky)

they felt super bad bc it’s your first college tour

but you reassured them since it was a local university and you’re a super strong independent individual

and you were sure you could handle one simple tour

lolz you were wrong

right when you enter the check-in area, you were immediately overwhelmed with being shoved thousands of brochures, flyers, and seniors trying to promote their clubs

“hey! come join our we’ll be paying student loans probs for the rest of our lives club!”

seems plausible but no thanks brian

honestly at this point you looked like a little gazelle being surrounded by a bunch of mountain lions 

you reminded yourself, “breathe just breathe”

but who were you kidding...maybe you weren’t ready to give the next few years of your life working your butt off just to exchange paper for paper ($$$ to diploma in case you didn’t catch my drift)

you stood still for five minutes watching hundreds of people crossing left and right

you debated if you should head home but someone tapped on your shoulder

you turned to the person bringing your hands up, getting ready to karate chop, “no, I do not want to join your club brian!”

but it was just the tour lady

“hi, I think you're in my tour group! I was looking for you. come on the rest of the group is over here.”

“how did you even find me?”

“years of experience lol”

you finally gathered with your tour group, thanks to the kind tour lady that was a gift sent from above especially with what’s about to happen next

you looked around and all the students looked super nervous too but seemed a little more stable since their parents or friends came with them

but you noticed one guy who was also alone and super cute 

he met your eyes but you quickly looked away 

wow let's leave your socially awkward self back in high school okay

but you couldn’t help yourself and tried to sneak a glance again

and he’s walking towARDS YOU

“hey, um i noticed you’re alone too. do you wanna be tour buddies? maybe for moral support?”

of course you agreed, suddenly feeling super thankful for the guy

“cool, i’m jongho” and gave you the warmest smile that you could swear that it melted your heart

it felt like time stopped and your stomach felt fuzzy

after centuries pass, you finally realized that he was waiting for your name keep it together will ya

“hi, i’m y/n” saying it a wee bit softer than you liked

but he thankfully heard you, “nice to meet you y/n” 

and he smILED AGAINNN

now, jongho looked super calm and collected on the outside but on the inside he was freaking out just as much as you bc he thinks you hella cute too (congratulations) 

just a few minutes earlier when he met your eyes, he also quickly looked away shy boy

but something overcame his shyness for a split second and his legs moved on its own towards your direction

and he’s glad that he did bc wow you’re even cuter up close (congrats pt.2) 

especially when he saw your cheeks tinted red a wee bit, sensing you must’ve felt something similar he did

after that lil awkward first exchange, you both quickly became more comfortable with each other 

jongho was planning to be a music education major bc he really loves singing and music, wanting to share that same feeling with others one day

you also shared your anticipated major (wanted to keep this broad for your imagination)

as the tour continued, you were both able to hold conversations that just flowed so naturally

“attractive AND smart, eh?” you both thought at the same time but didn’t have the courage to say it out loud say it you COWARDS

you both shared your wits, jongho with his puns and occasional fortnite dances here and there

and you with your lovely sense of humor and laughs that sounds like music to jongho’s ears, the music that he admires

the rest of the people in your tour group also found you guys sweet

and your kind tour lady wiggled her eyebrows towards you

she knows and she is here for it

but the tour was soon coming to end

too soon for both you and jongho’s likings

as the kind tour lady was giving her closings, jongho gave himself the BIGGEST pep talk to himself

“alright that courage you had whenever you first walked towards them...I SUMMON YOU AGAIN”

the kind tour lady ended her closings and wished everyone a happy college life

you turned to face him, meeting his eyes not knowing if it’ll be the last time

jongho could sense that you wanted to say something but was hesitant

but after looking into your eyes, all of his nerves suddenly went away

bc he knew exactly what he wanted 

he wanted to see you again and he knew he would regret it forever if you both just exchanged goodbyes and went along your separate college journeys

he wanted to see you smile and listen to your melodic laughs more

get to know you more and more, go through college/life struggles together

and meet your eyes again

at first, jongho didn’t know where his sudden courage came from when he first met you but now he truly understands why

when he met your eyes, he felt all the courage he needed and he didn’t need to fear anything

like when you both met your eyes for the first time at the beginning of the tour and the same feeling still applying now

jongho kept it simple but you knew how much significance the words truly held

“I want to see you again.”

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a|n: thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed it :) i actually used some of my own college tour experience for reference except i unfortunately didn’t get to meet a cute boy like jongho, story of my life (or opposite? lol) 

leave me feedback so i can improve and send in requests!

[ofhowls]

WANTED CONNECTIONS ! below you’ll find a list of wanted connections, please fill them before i commit sewer-side. if you wanna talk, you wanna discuss – send me a message on discord ( jayden#7437 ) ! okay, that’s all.

alvarez, odette – quick summary: twenty-nine, cancer, has a daughter ( ava: played by lane ), engaged ( nicolas: played by pj ), is a florist because life’s a joke, kind of hot-headed, has a messy past we don’t talk about, would beat someone up 10/10, don’t test her, drives an ugly pick-up truck ( bella’s from twilight, don’t ask ) and owns a fluffy kitten named mango. 

plot one – mother: long story short, her mom was around 16 when she had her ( would now be in her mid 40′s ), was a prostitute who didn’t care and was all around a trash human being. odette moved into foster homes before she turned 6 and she was in and out of them throughout her entire childhood. when odette had ava, however, she moved back in. and their relationship turned messier real fast. she moved back out at eighteen and has been staying away from her mom ever since. her mom only ever contacts her for money, she’s that bitch. fc could be salma hayek, but any mexican fc in that age range is a1.

plot two – sister from another mister: odette lived on the street in her teens, often running away from foster homes because they were GROSS. i want someone from her past in sheffield. i really, really want their relationship to have been like them kiddos in the movie thirteen ( 2003 ), you know? like hella ride or die but also toxic af. fc doesn’t matter but white people are gross so a person of colour, mayhaps? they’d be either her age or older, and obviously a womf because she hates men.

* NEW ! plot three – butler: look, she’s marrying rich and i’ve already established that she’s best buds with the butler. he’s old, he’s nice, they’re just having a good time together. all that i know about him is … just that, cool! he’s worked with the talbots for ages so, you get like +3484 plots with this one. do it, i beg of you. jeremy irons is a snack and so is jeff goldblum. think about it. 

apolskis, julian – quick summary: twenty, leo, has had cancer come and go since he was 10, is a bit of an asshole, its a defence mechanism though, lost his leg a year ago, has a sister ( kitty: played by lane ), currently dating ( micah: played by patty ), is in a band, plays drums, has a deadbeat dad that his mom sends fake happy bday cards from. 

plot one – father: basically, back in the good old days ( about 11 years ago ), julian and his family lived in seattle. living their best life. and then, he got diagnosed with cancer. in came the bills and his father split. he’s been out of their lives ever since, not really giving a hot diddly darn about his son – or the rest of the family, not that i care about them. he’d be in his mid 40′s or older by now. any white male fc would work but hugh dancy is dear to me. 

* NEW ! plot two – hospital buddy: give me a friend for this motherfricker, okay? someone who might be sick, too. someone who’s been at the hospital with him, someone who knows that struggle of DYING. you feel me? this person can literally be 80 years old, i don’t care! as long as they’ve spent some time in care with my boy, maybe even roomed with him, it’s all good.

atkins, scarlett – quick summary: nineteen, gemini, mother’s a dead socialite, father is an alive asshole, used to smang her step-brother ( milo: played by pj ) before he ditched her, was kind of the queen bee before she ghosted on all her “friends” for a fancy college, got kicked out of said college for an adderall addiction, is now at rock bottom and forced to hang with the losers, super manipulative and selfish, kind of got a rough exterior. 

plot one – old friend: i really want someone who used to be friends with her either before she became miss popular or before they graduated. either way, she would’ve ditched them for bigger and better. i want beef, i want dramas – i want this bitch to suffer. before she hung with the it crowd she was a freaking mathlete, so don’t you forget it. honestly, cady heron is SHAKING. i say as i stole it from lindsay weir, whatever. she was also a cheerleader in her later years, if that helps. i’m very cliche. they’d be like nineteen, and preferably a womf but i’m not picky. 

* NEW ! plot two – father: all you gotta know about ray atkins, is that he’s garbage. he’s a rich bitch, the richest damn dude in town, and he cares approximately NOT AT ALL about his daughter. he’s constantly going back and forth between pushing her to achieve things and not acknowledging her presence. it’s a hard knock life. rape tw // there was also an instance where scout experienced assault at a party and he blamed her for drinking, so … not the nicest. on top of that, he doesn’t allow scout to speak french in the house ( her mother was french, uwu ), and that’s MEAN. anyways, any white/puerto rican man in his 40′s and up will work. 

baek, wolfgang – quick summary: thirty-five, capricorn, loves horror films and has made quite a few, dad is a famous director ( bigger in korea than the states ), has triplets because his dick is that powerful, went from mr. friend zone to mr. i’m sorry i gave you three babies at once, sort-of-dating ( ziba: played by patty ) really talkative and amazing, works at blockbuster because that’ll support a family, am i right, lads?

plot one – work pal: he’s at work a lot, ok? and he needs friends. it’s a win/win. i need someone for him to do stupid work stuff with, make working a fun experience! i want a squad like in chuck, you know? if you don’t know what i’m talking about then superstore, if you still don’t know what i’m talking about then why are you still here? age don’t matter but i would prefer if they were close in age. gender, who cares. bye.

plot two – partner in crime: basically, he makes a lot of indie flicks. he actually only moved to sheffield to work on a screenplay but… it’s been a while. i need someone who makes movies with him, though. a co-director or someone he keeps casting as the lead because bros, ok? once again, preferably close in age, gender doesn’t matter.

* NEW ! plot three – cousin: i mean, hewwo? most of his extended family is back in korea, but – but – i could imagine his aunt or uncle would’ve moved to the us shortly after his parents did. so, a cousin would be neat! someone his age, someone he can talk to about childhood stuff, someone who understands his unspoken rivalry with his father, someone to babysit his kids. they would’ve lived in florida after moving to the us, thirty and up and preferably a dude. i like dudes. but a woman would work as well. not to mention, half or fully korean!

bellefleur, kipling – quick summary: forty-eight, capricorn, born and raised in louisiana, has two kids he don’t know about ( lucia: played by britt, jude: played by patty ), a cop at the police station, lives alone with no pets because god hates him, got a partner ( elliot: played by lane ) but not in the gay way, unfortunately heterosexual, kinda grumpy, kinda just annoyingly white. 

* NEW ! plot one – hook-up: kip is a sexual being, believe it or not! and sometimes, a mans need a nut bust. he’s a great lover, i swear. but he’s not a great mans when it comes to the romantics. he does have two kids he don’t know of, after all. just give me someone he visits late at night, ignores in public and have fake deep convos with whilst sharing a cigarette in bed. really painting a picture here, aren’t i? unlike other fathers in this town, he has no interest in sleeping with someone his child’s age, so –– thirties and up!

cheung, beatrice – quick summary: twenty-five, aries, middle school teacher, a big fucking lesbian, dating ( kaylee: played by patty )super sociable and outgoing, literally loves partying and hanging out with the youths, self-proclaimed big sister to just about every teen out there, works part-time as a waitress at the diner, used to be engaged but we don’t talk about that, foster kid with no connection to blood-related family. 

plot one – coworker: someone at the diner! just someone to have her back, to gossip with, to hang out with after shifts, to just be gal pals with, you know? she needs more gal pals. i love throwing movie references in there, but – think whiplash with ellen page. that kind of aesthetic, that kinda shit. from mid to late twenties, a woman because i don’t care for men. 

plot two – pseudo-sibling: i want her to really play the big sister role with someone! have a little baby she can pass all her heaux wisdom down on. just a wee bean that she considers a little sibling of sorts. she could even house them for a bit since she’s back to living alone! they’d have to be in their teens and gender, once again, does not matter!

* NEW ! plot three – foster sibling: she already has like fifteen, so give her another. tris is probably the youngest among the bunch and owen ( played by fanny ) is somewhere in the middle. it’s just a nice jewish household that fostered a lot kids, cool? any fc, any ethnicity, any gender! just older than twenty-five, is all i’m asking. neat, thank you for coming to my ted talk. 

cowell, stefan – quick summary: twenty-nine, scorpio, construction worker, married ( lumen: played by pj ), got a little sister who he always fights with ( arella: played by kt, whenever she returns to us ), hates dogs, kind of a prick, a huge prick actually, sort of running from the law but like on the low-key, always 100% done with just about everyone’s shit. 

plot one – work buddy: like i said, he works construction. and i want him to have one friend. like a singular friend. someone to grab a beer with, someone who he doesn’t wanna strangle. it’ll be a miracle but it’s a miracle i deserve damnit. they’d have to be in their late twenties or older, a dude and any fc. 

plot two – neighbour: it sounds like a basic plot, but i promise you – it’s worth it! i want him to have a god damn family feud plot going on, okay? i want them to fight, i want neighbours ( 2013 ) as a plot on tumblr dot com. i want him to hate them and i want them to hate him. fc don’t matter! gender don’t matter! preferably around his age or older, though. 

halonen, oliver – quick summary: thirty, aquarius, part-time mechanic, part-time bartender ( think coyote ugly because that’s hot ), used to be engaged ( marty: played by tasha ), got a fake daughter ( pauline: played by pj ), has some slight drug issues she’s working out atm, also her dad’s back from the dead ( uriah: played by lane ), she’s super nice and cute and you should all love her sarcastic ass. 

plot one – work friend: i feel like i just want everyone to have coworkers, but listen… i genuinely just do. either someone that works as a mechanic alongside her or another bartender who sometimes uses their bod for tips, it’s all good. i want her to have one friend her own god damn age, you know? they’d have to be a gal because men are smelly. age would be around her own and that’s it!

plot two – dealer: listen… drugs come from somewhere. and even if she’s not currently using, i’d love for her to have that dynamic. maybe she owes them money, we can make it hella messy or we can make them chill pals, idc! i just need her dealer her and i need them to push some drugs. plus it’s a buy one get one for free type of deal ( see my plots for ed further down ). i want them to be a little older than herself but other than that it’s free for interpretation. 

* NEW ! plot three – drug bud: this bitch is from texas and this bitch did a lot of drugs in texas. she spent her early twenties high as fuck, overdosed at 24 and then got clean. legend? yes. she’s got a lot of good influences, aside from one particular asshole, and i just want her to be more pulled into old habits! let her have some friends from her old life of criminality and drugs come to sheffield and shake things up. any fc and gender, though they’d have to be in their 30′s!

hodgins, nathaniel – quick summary: twenty-one, gemini, works as chef at the pub, skipped college to help his mama with the bills, got a cutie-patootie golden retriever, dad is in prison after a drunk driving accident that killed a 10 year old, moved to sheffield a few years ago for a fresh start, a big ass home of sexual, has a crush on a comp het ( vince: played by pj ), loves his mother more than anything, only child, conceals trauma with humour and bad puns. 

* NEW ! plot one – ex-something: now, i’m not saying they dated. i’m saying they hooked up and it never lead anywhere. it can be angsty, it can be fine, it can be a garbage fire. we can work out the details whenever, i’m cool like that. any fc and any gender, though preferably in their early twenties!

holstad, damian – quick summary: eighteen, aries, the biggest fuccboi you’ve ever laid your eyes upon, fucked your girlfriend ( and he meant it ), brother to the biggest loser in town ( lou: played by tasha ), parties every weekend, best friends with the second biggest fuccboi in town ( artemus: played by nico ), kinda soft but he won't ever let you know that, has a crush on his brother’s bff ( pauline: played by pj ).

plot one – ex-girlfriend: it’s simply unrealistic that he hasn’t dated at least one of the fifty bazillion girls he’s smanged. now, it’s probable they didn’t last more than a few months but its still a plot I NEED. she’d be either a junior or senior in high school right now. so, either graduating now or next year. face claim don’t matter. it’s possible he cheated, he’s an asshole like that.

* NEW ! plot two – more fuccpeople: at this point, i’m collecting them. there are a bunch of fuccbois in damian’s life right now, and i need there to be more. there needs to be a whole fracking pack of them. just running around town, smanging ladies and taking names. could’ve played football with him, could’ve graduated with him, could’ve just lived next door – i dunno! around eighteen… a boy, or a girl! fuccgirls are VALID too. 

kinney, sawyer – quick summary: twenty, sagittarius, volunteers at animal shelter, studying to become a vet, loves animals more than she’ll ever love a man, has a rescued bunny named waffles, her parents died in a car-crash we don’t talk about it, has a younger brother ( grayson: played by patty ), soccer is her life, also wanna fuck the soccer coach ( elliot: played by lane ), her first ‘kiss’ was a dare at age 5 with her cousin ( holden: played by pj ) for an ice cream, did i mention she loves animals, takes virginities for charity, happened once but i demand its a thing now, boinking mr edgelord ( quentin: played by pj ).

plot one – team mates: soccer is cool! soccer is for champions! she’s currently the team captain of the local all-girls soccer team, i know – such a title. and i want her to have more of a team. so gather up your gals in their late teens to early twenties and kick some balls around!

plot two – ex-boyfriend: before she swiped virginities and had sex with boys who love serial killers, she probably had a steady boyfriend. kind of a puppy-love-they’ll-probably-get-married-straight-out-of-high-school relationship, you know? they probably broke up because they were way too young and it was more of an availability thing rather than genuine attachment. does that make sense? it’s a small town! their parents probably loved their child’s respective partner than they loved each other. 20-22, any boy of any fc i’m not picky.

* NEW ! plot three – enemy: it’s a hard plot to ask for, but i request you hear me out. she never fights with anyone. she’s SO NICE. a walking mary sue, i swear. and she’s just friends with everyone. it’s boring! give me someone that gets under her skin! someone for her to absolutely fucking hate! for no reason or for a reason, idk! around twenty-one, any gender.

larsen, margaret – quick summary: forty-two, libra, has one terrible son ( teddy: played by lane ), though she loves him more than anything, left the country because she was a hoe, mortician, got knocked up by her professor that one time, kind of boinking her son’s bandmate ( holden: played by pj ), doing her best all the time but keeps on making mistakes, the biggest mama-bear you’ll ever stumble upon. 

plot one – ex-hook-up: listen, she left the states to study in the uk – mostly to get away from her parents – but also because she had a bit of a reputation. like, a really bad one. so if you have a character, or want to play a character, that grew up in sheffield and are in their forties… wink wonk. that’s it. that’s the plot. 

* NEW ! plot two – hater, hater: peggy was a skank in her youth, okay? she was a downright slut and she probably rubbed a lot of people the wrong way. she most likely still does! so, i want some judgmental hoes up in this bitch. i want them to bicker and i want it to be very small-town-desperate-housewives-esque. any lady. preferably around her age range, would’ve lived in sheffield all her life.

* NEW ! plot three – best friend: peggy only ever speaks to kids, it’s weird. give her. bud, and like i said above… desperate housewives is a fucking neat ass show. they can drink wine and they can gossip and they can judge her for the people she’s sleeping with. or, well, person. any woman in her 40′s, please and thank.

mullin, casper – quick summary: fifteen, aries, fucking love aliens, the government is lying to y’all, has got a whole ass squad of friends, kinda gay for one of them ( eli: played by pj ), kinda intimidated by another ( ava: played by lane ), if it wasn't obvious he’s a gay, has a pupper that means the world to him, always investigates creepy shit because he is that white person.

plot one – disgraced nuclear physicist: you heard me. basically just the plot of back to the future. someone a bit ( a lot ) older than casper himself that kinda takes him under their wing. they’re as nutty as him when it comes to conspiracy theories, and maybe they feed his ideas and stuff when it comes to the shit going on in town. please and thank you. 

pearce, minoo – quick summary: twenty-one, aquarius, the biggest of edgelords, expert in stick n poke tattoos, hates her family, loves their big ass dog, a military brat, skated pretty much everywhere because she’s a walking cliche, not anymore though cause her bff broke it ( vince: played by pj ), invented grunge, would kill herself for the lead singer of zero boys, wants her mom to die ( rachel: played by lane ), wants the cop who's trying to get in her pants to die even more ( sera: played by tasha ), almost dropped out of high school fifty times but i forgot to make it canon. 

* NEW ! plot one – enemy: i love enemies. anyways, mj is a fucking bitch. she’s so edgy, she’s not like other girls, and she definitely would end up in a fight with just about anybody. there’s no way in HECK there aren’t people in town who hate her guts. they could’ve gone to college with her, they could’ve gone to high school with her, i dunno! i just want her to FIGHT. preferably a girl, preferably in her age range. 

oswalt, kevin – quick summary: nineteen, virgo, had the most tumultuous of childhoods involving both kidnapping and murder, she doesn’t talk about it, has sort-of-a-boyfriend ( jamie: played by pj ), and a definitely best friend ( pippa: played by lane ), currently living with her father ( dalton: played by britt ) without the knowledge that she’s his daughter, her life is messy, she likes books and writing, thinks sheffield is kinda fascinating, the biggest of nerds, kinda awkward but we forgive her. 

plot one – brother: we already have her father, mother ( marion: played by nesh ), and two sisters ( lila: played by luna, and hazel: played by fanny ), and now all that’s missing is the second youngest kid! he’d be like 21 years old, white with blue eyes because that’s a trait near and dear to us, and … a dude-bro. we have this hc that he’s in a band and kinda just does his own thing. free-spirit. also, to summarise the family history REAL QUICK – you can ask for more deets – kev got kidnapped, family fell apart, marion and dalton got divorced, the kids chose sides, markus ( the brother ) chose to stay neutral, they moved away while dalton stayed, and now they’re all back. 

plot two – study pal: not quite as in-depth as the one above, but! she needs a study pal. she’s currently attending the local college and she has zero friends who actually go to school. give me someone for her to work on stupid projects with, someone she’s forced to get to know and get out of her comfort zone with. they’d be 19-20 and fc/gender has no importance. 

sutton, eduardo – quick summary: fifty-two, taurus, literal fucking drug-lord, gang leader, owns the silhouette bar outside of town, loves his daughter a lot ( carmen: played by britt ), never smoked a weed in his life, jk, lost his wife a bazillion years ago, now banging the woman who failed save her ( lorelai: played by patty ), has three dogs which he kinda loves more than his daughter, killed a lot of mens in his life, just all around a good dude. 

plot one – brother: ed comes from an cuban-catholic family from new orleans and his father was kind of an asshole but his mom was alright. however, he was always closest to his little brother. so please, for the love of god, play him. you’ll get to play an uncle if you do, it’s pretty hot. any cuban fc in their late forties would work, but raul esparza is a hot fucking take. 

plot two – gang members: he’s a gang leader, ok? he needs more to lead. they hang out at the silhouette bar, push drugs through town and are all around just a good group of people. give me all of them to be honest. think the southside serpents from riverdale. or whatever they’re called in sons of anarchy. fc and gender and stuff don’t matter, however – ed would never allow someone under twenty-five. he’s a family man. 

talbot, mikhail – quick summary: thirty, pisces, the softest boy you’ll ever meet, a nurse at the local hospital, got a kid on the way, dating a ginger bitch ( liza: played by pj ), best friends with his cousin ( nic: also played by pj ), best friends with his ex ( emma: played by lane and not pj ) coaches the kids football team during his spare time, also works a couple of shifts at his father’s ( robert: played by luna ) hardware store, really just genuinely fucking nice, kinda depressed but you’d never know. 

plot one – high school friends: he’s lived in sheffield his whole life. he was on the football team, he was popular – he was a fun dude to hang with. it’s unrealistic none of his high school friends stuck around. so! give me a couple of those. they can be anybody as long as they’re around thirty years old.

plot two – kids to coach: self-explanatory, really. but if you want to play a kid on the football team, speak now or forever hold your peace. teens, boys probably because sports ball is sexist, just someone for him to coach and teach the way of sports ball life. 

weathers, elizabeth – quick summary: forty-two, sagittarius, freaking neurotic, forgets her own son ( eli: played by pj ), remembers her other every now and again ( jesse: played by nico ), wishes she could forget her husband ( andy: played by lane ), her bestest and smallest son was taken from her almost two years ago, yes this plot came before she was winona ryder don’t judge me, stay at home mom yet has no reason to stay at home.

* NEW ! plot one – emotional support: the woman lost her son, she needs like a mom support group on facebook. she needs someone who understands her loss. maybe someone who’s lost their own kid, obviously not to a giant bunny, but it’d still be kind of relatable. someone she can discuss her divorce plans with, you know? a woman in her forties, i’ll accept nothing else. 

[stillkillinmehollis]

ya killin me Hollis... so for that 1-98

99 Gay-ish Asks [x]

1) how tall are you?

like 5ft 3in. not tall at all

2) what is your body type?

I’m not sure if i fall under the “husky” category? 

3) what is your favorite part about your body?

my legs are pretty solid and pretty brolic, so I guess we can go with that.

4) is your current hair color your natural hair color?

Negative.

5) are you more outgoing or more shy?

Definitely shy. But at work, I can sometimes fake the “outgoing” pretty okay

6) are you more femme or butch?

…. uhh… butch..ish… i guess?

7) are you tol or smol?

hella smol

8) wine mom or vodka aunt?

i mean.. I don’t drink so… neither…

9) weird habit?

I crack my knees

10) favorite meme?

oh man, too many to decide

11) do you sing in the shower?

not really anymore.

12) ever used a bow and arrow?

Merida has shown me a thing or two

13) are/were you a theatre kid?

never

14) have you ever seen a broadway musical?

In no particular order, I’ve seen: Wicked, Beauty & The Beast, Grease, and Mamma Mia

15) do you think musicals are cheesy?

i’m neutral

16) have you ever been a part of a protest or a march?

I did do the March For Life in high school (my stand on the situation has since changed).

17) favorite Cards Against Humanity Card?

it has been so long since I’ve last played CAH, that I don’t actually remember

18) last movie you watched?

Shrek.

19) behind the camera or in front of it?

i live behind a camera.

20) favorite tv show?

Bob’s Burgers is the show I currently watch most, so we’ll go with that. 

21) meaning behind your url

it’s line from Carmilla

22) reason you joined tumblr

I think an at the time Buddy of mine told me about it and I should sign up. and i was like “aiite”

23) who’s your closest tumblr friend?

Zach, Laura, Kelli, Sky

24) what’s something most people love that you hate?

being the center of attention

25) have you ever taken narcotics?

I’m not big on drugs to any capacity… and avoid taking any if I don’t need to… and idek what actually is considered “narcotics”… so i really have no idea ?

26) have you had sex?

I have not.

27) have you ever gotten caught sneaking out or doing anything bad?

nothing “bad”, I don’t think. idk, I was never that “bad” of a kid.

28) worst/funniest lie you’ve ever told?

i’ve never told this story to anyone before, but i completely forgot about it until right now. So in college, I told a professor that my (i think it was a final?) had gotten ruined by rain that got in my bag, and I tossed the papers. In truth, either I hadn’t done it or i hadn’t finished it. 

29) describe your passion without mentioning it.

what am i even passionate about these days ?

30) describe your best friend.

His name is Zach, he was one of my college roommates. He’s the Felix to my Sarah, my baby brother in every way possible. He’s always there when I need him, and my personal cheerleader and biggest supporter. He’s also patiently impatient about me getting a girlfriend :p 

31) give us one thing about you that no one knows.

please refer to question 28.

32) how do you feel right now?

I’m getting kinda sleepy… It is 3:35am after all. and I’m only not even a full 1/3rd of the way through these questions 

33) what is your biggest fear?

Bees. Needles. Being Abandoned by people. Feelings.

34) what’s a song that always makes you happy when you hear it?

Ocean Avenue, by Yellowcard. I have no idea why, but it gets me so hype while I’m driving, and gets me to pull my windows down and blast my music.

35) what is the best decision you’ve made in your life so far?

applying for the Disney College Program one last time.

36) have you ever tried your hardest and then been disappointed in the end?

haven’t we all at least once ?

37) something you fantasize about.

having an awesome girlfriend some day

38) last time you cried and why

a few days ago I cried out of frustration as I’m trying to figure out my living situation

39) what was the last thing that made you laugh?

the fact that you sent me as many questions as I sent you

40) do you really, truly miss someone right now?

it’s been five months since I lost my Pup, and I truly painfully miss her on the daily

41) who do you feel most comfortable talking to about anything?

Zach.

42) the last time you felt broken?

a few nights ago, due to something that was said in a one on one with my leader

43) are you starting to realize anything?

slowly…

44) are you more dominant or more submissive?

I don’t think this applies?

45) i’ll only date you if _____. (fill in the blank)

you can accept me, from my sarcasm to my mental health (or lack there of), everything in between and beyond

46) do you prefer to date people the same age as you, younger, or older?

I’m here more for your maturity level then your actual age

47) describe the person you’re in love with/have a crush on in great detail.

I’m definitely not “in love” with anyone, and I avidly avoid the 5 letter C word. 

48) do you have any kinks?

getting a good night’s sleep

49) first thing you notice in a person?

between their smile and their eyes

50) how can someone win your heart?

sarcasm

51) been rejected by a crush?

ugh, i hate the C word but yes, yes I have.

52) have you ever had feelings for someone who didn’t have them back?

sure have !

53) would you have sex with the last person you text messaged?

nope

54) is trust a big issue for you?

huge.

55) did you hang out with the person you like recently?

nope.

56) is confidence cute?

extremely

57) what would you say if the person you love/like kissed another girl/boy?

i wouldn’t say anything… like if someone else makes them happy, i’m not gonna come between that

58) would you be able to date someone who doesn’t make you laugh?

no way

59) does the person you have feelings for right now know you do?

………..moving on

60) ever embarrass yourself in front of a crush?

my entire existence is generally embarrassing to anyone, so .. yeah lol

61) do you want to get married?

I’d like to.

62) worst thing you’ve ever done?

i have no idea what the number one worst thing is… and honestly I don’t even want to know

63) three things that turn you on.

when someone can confidently take charge of the room, a cute laugh, and sarcasm. (also, just want it to be known, none of these are “sexual” turn ons, but things that can turn me on to a person)

64) who do you hate?

that’s a story for another day

65) favorite term of endearment?

Dude (thats an endearing term, right?)

66) who was your celebrity/fictional gay awakening?

ohman… i’m not sure. Natalia Livingston (Emily Quartermaine, GH), maybe? Eva LaRue (Maria Santos, AMC)? Tamara Bruan (Carly Corinthos, GH)? 

The soap ladies were/are pretty, and I was a wee gay, okay ?

67) intimidating girls or kind girls?

in fairness… i feel like all girls are intimidating to some degree or another.

68) what do you look for in a possible partner?

someone who makes me smile and laugh, someone who keeps me on my toes, someone who pushes me to be better. someone i can have fun with, be sarcastic with, and someone who can be sarcastic and witty back at me.

69) do you tend to like more masculine, feminine, or androgynous girls?

the personality behind the girl speaks volumes… also has a MAJOR affect on if i find her attractive or not.

70) are you good at flirting?

not even a little bit

71) who was the first person you came out to?

Tiffany.

72) do you have any friends who are wlw?

thankfully, most of them are !

73) is your crush wlw?

i hate the C word, but every girl I’ve had my eye on for one reason or another has turned out to be WLW.

74) last person to make you reconsider your sexuality?

i’ve honestly always been ace, whether I knew it or not.

75) write a short love poem to your crush/self?

i’m as good of a poet as I am expressing my feelings

spoiler: I’m not.

76) do you fall in love easily?

Situation depending, I can fall in LIKE or INFATUATION easily. but definitely not love.

77) is there something that happened in your past that you hate talking about?

what’s a gay without some past trauma

78) are you good at hiding your feelings?

depends on the person and the feelings (but mostly, yes, I think so.)

79) are you a forgiving person?

For the most part, no. but it also depends on how bad you messed up… I can be, for the right person and the right circumstances.

80) what is your “type?”

idk if i have a strict “type”. 

81) fall asleep in her arms or rub her back until she falls asleep in yours?

the secret third option: play with her hair until she falls asleep in mine

82) tall girls or short girls?

yes

83) hugs or kisses?

i’m not always the greatest at physical contact, and the idea of my first kiss scares the actual shit out of me … so i guess hug for now?

84) twirl her around or get twirled?

please just me play with your hair

85) tummy kisses or thigh kisses?

uhhh… tummy ? i guess ? like i’m not out here trying to get in your thighs

86) hairline kisses or neck kisses?

is a hairline kiss the same a forehead kiss ? 

87) play with her hair or stroke her tummy?

i refer you back to #84

88) making out or soft kisses?

soft

89) hugs around the neck or hugs around the waist?

i’d probs prefer waist… i guess?

90) how confident are you in your sexuality?

110% confident i’m not sexually attracted to anyone

91) when you like someone do you blush or get butterflies in your stomach?

my dude. Pal. Bro. your boii gets the whole damn zoo in a stampede-that-killed-Mufasa style, and it turns her stomach upside down, inside out, all around, and breaks it into a million pieces. 

92) have you ever liked a friend as more than a friend? did you tell them?

yes I have, and yes I did.

93) how old were you when you realized you were into girls?

i was littttttle

94) most embarrassing thing you’ve done in front of a cute girl?

exist

95) do you have a favorite lesbian ship? is it canon?

Laura/Carmilla. and yes.

96) what is the most aggravating thing someone has said to you about your sexuality?

No One really has ever said anything too aggravating to me about asexuality. 

97) when was the last time a girl made your heart flutter?

last night (Tuesday; July 23rd, ‘19)

98) what is love to you?

Love is… all the songs making sense (throwback reference, I couldn’t resist). Love is “whats mine can be ours”. Love is working together to give it your all.