#hoh.closed

[jackpcts]

@earthquakcgirl

Being alive again was great. Really, MJ was totally, 100% okay with everything happening. So what if she was turned to dust and woke up five years in the freaking future! So what if all her training and fighting had amounted to nothing in the end! It was fine. She was fine.

And Daisy Johnson was really fine. Like, totally next level fine. MJ definitely wasn't only sleeping with Daisy as a way to avoid thinking about her feelings. Some might accuse her of such but she would have fucked Daisy even if she hadn't been turned to dust by a crazy purple man because Daisy was hot. MJ pulled her shirt on with a sigh, turning to look at Daisy with a grin she didn't entirely feel. "I'm thinking brunch. Are you in for brunch?"

[tectonicrictor]

@earthquakcgirl​

New York was a fucking mess. New York had always been a fucking mess, but right now the guy tearing through the streets with what looked like a tractor repurposed for death was kind of worth mentioning. Apparently, he was having trouble readjusting to the world post-snap. Which, yeah. Get in line, man.

“I just wanted to get lunch,” Julio sighed, glancing over at Daisy mournfully. “Can we just leave? I mean, somebody else will come along eventually. The X-Men love this shit! Weird villains are their thing.” Of course, he knew he wouldn't actually be able to leave. Growing up with the X-Men gave a guy a hell of a hero complex. Groaning, Julio held out a hand. “Rock paper scissors for who has to try the whole ‘talking him down’ method before we open the Earth and let his death tractor fall through?”

[oftorch]

@earthquakcgirl

They assigned him a therapist. They probably did it for a lot of dusted people, probably figured it was a necessity when you'd come back to a world that moved on without you, but Johnny was pretty sure they'd assigned him a therapist a lot quicker than anyone else. He was, for all intents and purposes, a sentient nuclear bomb who'd just gotten himself killed several times in quick succession. So, yeah. Therapy.

Maybe he should have actually tried going, but talking about his feelings sounded like absolute Hell and the local taco truck was having a lunch special. So, instead of going to his therapy appointment, he loaded up on greasy tacos and showed up at Daisy's with a grin. "Don't worry," he greeted, "I kept them warm. Though, really, you should be buying my lunch. I'm not very liquid right now, what with the dying and all, but it's chill. I can spring for tacos for my favorite ex-bed buddy!"