okay yes. girl dad touya 100%. always. but what if the lil girl isn't his.
when you first start talking, you ask if he's single, married, if he's got any kids. just scoping him out. and he's like, "ew no. don't want any little bastards." LIKE OUCH. so that has you backing off a little, because you're very serious about bringing someone in her life and the last thing you're gonna do is pull in a guy that doesn't want to be there !! no matter how stupid handsome he is.
but dabi is more perceptive than anyone gives him credit for and i think he figures it out pretty quick. and he lets you go, too, for a little while, because he really doesn't like kids. grew up with three younger siblings and couldn't wait to get the fuck out of his parents house, probably left early at like sixteen or something. and he's really not looking to walk back into that kind of shitty family situation.
somehow you end up back in each other's life. and it's got him like fuck. because he wants — something with you, he knows that much. you're not like him, at all; don't come around the bar he works at too often, not littered with tattoos up to your neck like he is, probably never been to jail, either — and you have yet to hold that against him. you're in a whole different tax bracket than he is, because you've got yourself a nice job to provide for your kid, and you still treat him like a person. still smile back at him, hug him when he gets a little shy about your kindness, even brought him flowers once, one night, after he'd make a joke about never getting anything on valentine's day.
so he says fuck it. it's your kid, right ? so how bad could she be, really ?
and he just adores her. not too little — seven this year, she tells him — and she's so funny, for a kid. not afraid of him in the slightest, a little wild, likes to sing, could probably even makes friends with his shit-eating dad. it takes a long time for him to finally meet her, because you're being careful, but he does and you're both surprised by how much he takes to her. has him thinking back on his childhood a little differently; at the time, walking home with fuyumi and baby-sitting on the weekends and having to take natsu with him everywhere and picking up shouto from school every damn day — it seemed like the worst thing back then. but now —
seems silly, to be so hot about.
he lets your daughter call him dabi, because she's so sing-song when she says it, when she calls it to him from across the fucking grocery store. she brings out some weird, repressed kid in him, one that likes to play pretend and get into little mischief, like eating sweets too close to bedtime and finding little ways to prank you when you aren't looking.
it's meant to be so casual when he tells his mom and sister, just a, "yeah, this chick i'm seein' has a kid or whatever," but they ask one question and it turns into story after story after story. takes him a long time to realize he's just going on and on and on about her, that they're just sitting there smiling at him. even makes them tear up a bit, much to his horror, but they're just happy for him, that's all.
and, yeah. he's happy for him, too.
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(Alright I know everyone’s got their own lore reasons as to what their qsmp characters are up to while the qsmp Brazil meetup is happening but I have this stupid crack silly fluffy headcanon(??) alternative rattling around in my brain that brings me much joy. So.)
It starts with Roier and Cellbit.
Like most others on the Island, the past couple weeks have been tough for them both. With Cellbit spending most of his time in his office at the Ordo and Roier out working tirelessly (ceaselessly) on Bobby's city, neither of them are home very much, and neither of them are sleeping very much either. When the do make it back to the castle to sleep, the other has either already left or leaves before the other can wake up beside them. Two ships passing in the night. It's awful on several levels, not just physical.
Cellbit broaches the subject first because he knows Roier won’t---neither of them can keep going like this. It's just not sustainable. They're both exhausted. It's becoming increasingly clear that the situation on the Island with the missing eggs isn't going to be improving anytime soon. (If at all; he doesn't say that, though.) Cellbit's brain needs a break, Roier's heart needs a break. They need to regroup. So Cellbit suggests that they sleep.
It's not unheard of for someone on the Island to just conk out for a few days; it's pretty commonplace, actually. (Cellbit teases Roier that he's a pro at oversleeping, and Roier calls him an asshole in three different languages.) They get everything prepared to spend a long weekend asleep, then Cellbit goes to Forever and Pac, Roier goes to Jaiden, and they explain why they're going to be MIA for a bit.
Forever, Pac, and Jaiden totally get it. In fact, they understand all too well. With everything that's been going on, being passed the fuck out for a few days doesn't sound too bad, actually...
One way or another, Roier and Cellbit end up extending an invitation to their friends, saying that there's plenty of room at the castle if they want. They could make a little get-together out of it. And all three accept. So now Forever, Pac, and Jaiden are staying over too.
But of course, Forever, Pac, and Jaiden have to tell their friends where they'll be, so Forever talks to Baghera and Bad, and Pac talks to Mike and the rest of the morning crew, and Jaiden talks to Slime and Foolish and Mouse and anyone she bumps into, really, and Cellbit and Roier see the global chat messages of other tired people on the Island bringing it up in conversation with each other, and they decide, well fuck it, and they make an announcement:
Long depression nap sleepover at the castle this weekend, everyone is invited, bring your own blankets :D
Not everyone goes, of course. Etoiles doesn't feel he can afford to nap when the codes are still prowling about, Tubbo is getting ready to set some big plans in motion, Bad is...doing whatever it is that Bad does nowadays. People have matters to attend to.
But a good chunk of the island decides it's time for a collective fuck-this-I'm-goin'-back-to-bed break. They all show up at the castle at or around the agreed upon time, bringing food to share and drinks to pass around. It's a surprisingly good time, all things considered, casual but still playful and chaotic as all gatherings on the Island tend to be.
After some shenanigans getting the furniture moved out of the way, the guests get themselves set up in the foyer and main hall downstairs, having brought whatever they need for their respective sleeping arrangements: the avians bring blankets and personal belongings for their nests; Foolish drags a massive mattress out of his inventory to accommodate his full, un-shape-shifted height; Fit has a strange, sagging semi-hammock contraption that allows him to sleep without setting his spawnpoint. Cellbit and Roier think of their bed upstairs, shrug, and get themselves situated down on the floor in the hall with everyone else with a spare mattress they find.
Everyone gets cozy. Some people (coughFelpscough) peace-out immediately. Others stay up and chat and tell stories and gossip and giggle and shush each other like little kids at...well, like little kids at a sleepover. It's fun. But one by one, those people drift off as well, and eventually, it's just Roier and Cellbit who are left awake.
As they lay there in the darkness on the twin-sized mattress they pulled out of storage, they stare up at the vaulted ceiling high above their heads, and they listen to them breathing. All of their friends breathing---sleeping, shifting, sighing. Murmuring things, names, in their sleep, dreaming dreams. Good dreams, they hope. They could all do with something good right about now. Just a little something.
Roier whispers this was a nice idea. Cellbit hums in agreement. He closes his eyes and turns and curls around his husband and drags the blanket up to their chins. Roier pulls him in, and they slot together like two puzzle pieces, not a hair's width between them. Cellbit gives Roier a soft kiss. He feels his husband smile against his lips.
Maybe things can get better. Maybe.
They sleep.
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ayyy im back with another Unedited human au snippet <3 it's almost entirely dialogue oopsies <3
~
Eddie slows in putting his coat on - Barnaby isn’t sticking around to chat with fellow staff like usual. He’s in a rush, scrambling to grab his jacket and hurrying from behind the bar. He dashes through the door, looking like a man on a mission.
The door Mr. Frankly had just vanished through.
Could he be…? No, Barnaby seems like a good man. But he had seemed a little pushy with Mr. Frankly, from what Eddie could tell.
It couldn’t hurt to make sure.
Eddie frowns deeply as he goes outside, wincing slightly at the first burst of cold air after hours spent in a warm building. He’s just in time to see Barnaby jog up behind Frankly and close his car door before he can get in. Barnaby immediately leans against the door with his arms crossed, pinning it shut and blocking Frankly from the driver’s seat.
Eddie’s stomach plummets. Before he knows it, he’s speed-walking across the parking lot towards them, a fire burning in his chest and his hands curled into fists.
Frankly says something loud enough that Eddie can almost hear, his voice echoing in the empty lot. As Eddie watches, Barnaby pokes Frankly’s chest, making him stagger back a step.
“Hey!” Eddie barks.
Both of them jump and whip around - Barnaby’s eyebrows shoot into his hair, while Frankly’s lowers into a flat line.
“Eddie?” Barnaby says.
At the same time, Frankly says, “Mr. Dear?”
The two of them look at each other in surprise. Eddie pays the exchange no mind. He stops by Frankly, trying to slightly angle himself in front of him without making it too obvious.
“Is everything all right here?” he asks, looking Barnaby up and down. He really hopes this won’t come to blows - Eddie can throw a punch well enough, but Barnaby is an imposing figure. Eddie already knows he’d likely lose, but as long as he can buy Frankly a couple extra seconds…
“No, actually, everything is not fine,” Frankly says in a ticked-off - and strangely scolding - tone.
Barnaby, not breaking eye-contact with Frankly, counters with, “Everything’s peachy, Ed.”
“You sure about that?” Eddie asks, trying to keep his tone amicable.
“Scout’s honor.”
“Please,” Frankly scoffs, “you were never a boy scout. And that’s not the point - I am trying to get home!”
“You are trying to die in the most avoidable way possible.”
Eddie shoots Frankly a concerned look. “You’re what?”
“I am perfectly sober,” Frankly says.
Barnaby raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Your face is flushed.”
“It is not!”
Eddie winces. “It, uh, it is. A little.”
“It’s none of your business,” Frankly seethes.
“Listen,” Barnaby sighs. He leans heavier against the car and rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t wanna be the one 'ta call Julie and deliver the news that her beloved Frankie went and got himself killed at the taco bell intersection.”
Frankly makes a high and derisive noise. “Excuse you, I have class. I’d die outside of Howdy’s.”
“Please, he’d turn your memorial into part of the gift shop. I can already see the signs - ‘dead friend sale, five percent off!’”
“I’m worth at least thirty percent.”
Eddie clears his throat and gestures between the two of them. “You two… know each other?”
“Unfortunately,” Frankly mutters.
Barnaby grins. “Aw, you’re just saying that. It’s okay - I know ya love me, Frankie. You don’t have to say it.”
“I do not.”
“I have evidence that proves otherwise.”
Frankly rolls his eyes. “You’re unbearable.”
“And yet…”
Eddie heaves a sigh - of relief or exhaustion, he’s not sure - and drags a hand over his face. “Alright. Good, I - good to know.”
“What, did’ja think I was attacking him?” After a moment of prolonged, awkward silence, Barnaby’s teasing smile drops. “Oh. You did.”
“Barnaby? Attack me?” Frankly snorts. “Give him some credit - he’s smarter than he looks.”
“Yeah, I’d have better chances taking on a pack’a hyenas!” Barnaby lets out a hearty cackle. “At least then we’d all get a laugh out of it!”
“So I misjudged the situation pretty terribly,” Eddie says, inching to the side to give Frankly his personal space back. “My apologies.”
“Don’t sweat it, Ed. I know Frank may look like a bundle of sticks, but he’s petrified wood all the way through! Pure stone, you know.” Barnaby grins and leans towards Eddie. He whispers conspiratorially, “‘Cept when it comes to holdin’ his liquor. Then he’s a total lightweight.”
“Barnaby,” Frankly hisses.
“Practically paper!”
“That’s enough, thank you!” Frankly makes an attempt at shoving Barnaby away from the car door, but Barnaby widens his stance. It’s like watching someone try to move a tree.
“See, this is how I know he shouldn’t be driving,” Barnaby says conversationally to Eddie. “If he were sober, I’d be the one drunk - punch-drunk, that is.”
Eddie isn’t sure whether or not he should laugh - was that a joke? Barnaby seems fond of them, but… surely Frankly isn’t a violent person. Frankly lets out a growl of frustration and clumsily tries to bodyslam Barnaby. Eddie inches back a step.
“Alright Frankie, you had your fun.” Barnaby scruffs Frankly like a misbehaving cat and holds him at arm's length. He holds out a hand. “C’mon. Keys.”
“Never.”
“Have it your way. I’ll go ahead and call Poppy, tell her that you’ve forgotten the many dangers of-”
“Oh, fine,” Frankly spits. He yanks his keys out of his pocket and slaps them into Barnaby’s waiting hand.
Barnaby flicks the keys as Frankly stalks to the passenger side door and yanks it open. “Choose a place for dinner, we’ll swing by and pick it up - my treat.”
“Obviously your treat,” Frankly grumbles. “As if I’d-”
The slam of his door cuts off whatever he says next, though Eddie can see him still talking in the car. His phone screen illuminates his irritated expression as he - presumably - looks up places for takeout.
“Well, I’m glad you were here to stop him from doin’ somethin’ everyone would regret,” Eddie says. “Mr. Frankly-”
“Mr. Frankly?” Barnaby snorts. “You’re not one of his students, are ya?”
“I’m just bein’ polite. He set the tone by referrin’ to me by Mr. Dear, so I’m tryin’ to respect that line in the sand.”
Barnaby shakes his head, grinning. “Just call him Frank. He puts up a big show of bein' a grouch, but he’s really a big softie. Though don’t - don’t try to pick a fight with him. Ever. You’ll lose.”
“Wasn’t plannin' on it.” Eddie makes a mental note to keep calling him Mr. Frankly, just to be on the safe side. It’s not like they’re friends, anyway. More like… acquaintances. Occasional Run-Into-Each-Other strangers.
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