somethingwithturquoise | MHA #4; Friday Evening [01/20].

There were a lot of things that led Summer to having the feeling that Annie had been kind of going through some stuff lately. She could probably say that for a couple people, actually, but, when it came to Annie, she liked to think that if something was up, she would let Summer know. That she knew she could come to Summer to talk about whatever, and that Summer would try not to be too judgy, or, if she was, that she would do so in a very loving way. So it was kind of a relief, almost, when sangria did come up at the bar on Wednesday.

Like, she knew it probably wasn't good, if they were sangria'ing over it, but it was good that Annie wanted to talk about it.

So, for the occasion, she actually made not just one but but TWO different sangrias (and fully intended, by the end of the night, to just say fuck it and mix them both together), as well as a little spiced sangria with rum for the squirrels to have their own little sangria moments and forget all about her and Annie's.

And then she just needed an Annie, because otherwise that was a lot of sangria going to waste.

[[ for the super bestie! Sangria night itself is fine for broadcast, but all sangria details are NFB sangria secrets~ ]]

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"I am hot, cockroaches are not," Annie agreed, happily having taken that refill, thank you! "The zombie wizard thing is 'cause in that universe, you can, like, jump into the head of yourself there through a dream. So like -- instead of like, knowing about other Summers, you could just go to sleep and possess another Summer from over here, with the right tools. And anyway this dude was dead in this world."

Made sense, right? Totally.

"Also!" Annie added, feeling a whole lot better -- one part bestie-talk power-ups, one part being hungover tomorrow. "I'll have you know Diego has met the prehensile dick twice. I've only met that guy once! And with my husband!"

Fiancé at the time, whatever.

"Terrible superpower, though," she murmured, saying it half into her glass. "Just terrible."

It made enough sense. Summer was honestly mostly just stuck on the thought of other Summers jumping into her head, which, like, dealing with those bitches in their own bodies was bad enough as it was, or temporarily being one for a weekend, fine, but sharing a body with more than one of herself?

PASS.

It didn't help that most Summers tried to kill each other, and that just seemed like a recipe for a straight up aneurism.

"Well, I don't know about that," said Summer. "There are definitely a lot worse superpowers, and I think....wait, no. It depends. Did he have, like, full control over it? Or was it like a thing where it pretty much had a mind of its own? Because one of those could be potentially awesome, and the other is an actual literal nightmare. It's one of those things, too, where it's like, okay, yes, terrible compared to being able to, like, control electricity or fly or be invisible, but, the real question is: is a superpower dick still better than no superpower at all?"

"I think he could control it," Annie said, and congrats, Summer, she was drunk enough that you were getting a whole, like, demonstration of how the dick moved using her arm. "Like an elephant's trunk. And also maybe he can see through it?"

That, right there, was an actual nightmare. Imagine being able to see with one's genitals.

"I met him at the orgy over the summer, before I quit." OBVIOUSLY. "And I dunno, Summer. I kinda feel like no superpowers is better than having a dick that can grab people."

"Yeah, I don't know," Summer had to admit, "but, like, this is coming from the perspective of someone who doesn't have superpowers, soooo.....

"Also," she added, "if I had a massive prehensile dick that I could control and possibly be able to see out of? Like, I'd be a shoe-in for some major advancements in gynecological studies."

And therein was the difference, between Summer Smith and...that guy. Because she would absolutely be using her prehensile dick for good and not...

Okay, she probably would grab people with it, too, but, like, only if they were into that.

Edited 2023-01-20 22:38 (UTC)

"Don't limit yourself -- you'd probably make great strides in, like, throat cancer research, too."

Yeah, Annie was officially drunk.

"But look at that," Annie noted, all fond and headtilty at Summer. "Look at you, finding a way to use the dick powers for good. Next you'll come up with a plan for the guy with the acid vomit."

Maybe he had the worst superpowers, actually.

Oh, man. Summer loved drunk Annie, and a hand actually made it to her chest as she looked fondly back at her in deep appreciation, not only for the expansion of her grand vision for the good she'd do with her giant prehensile penis, but also the fact that they had clearly come so far in just one conversation as a whole.

But you needed the disgusting anatomy moment, the lol paint moments, the turning into a pickle moments. Because otherwise you'd go fucking insane.

"Acid vomit, huh?" she said. "That one does seem a little trickier to sell...but for some reason, my mind keeps going to, like, demolition? Or, like, strategic construction. Like, I don't know, this is me assuming it's corrosive enough to melt through, like, fucking I-beams and shit. If it's just, like, bleeeegh," yes, she needed to act out the gagging and puking all over something, "oops, burned your skin a bit, that is a pretty lame super power, but if it's all bleeeegh, oh, look at that, it's eating away flesh and bone, this could actually be a really interesting solution for waste removal, or something!"

"I think he could melt through flesh and bone," Annie said thoughtfully -- or as thoughtfully as one could when definitely being as inebriated as she. "Diego saw him firsthand. I was outside dealing with my asshole friend Hughie."

And with that helpful bit of information, Annie tapped her nose, then pointed at Summer, as though conveying something important. "He's one of the reasons I'm in therapy! He's not, like, Bob, but there's a great example of someone I never should've trusted but did because I'm dumb and nice and believe people about sad things."

"I mean," said Summer, frowning a little at how she thought she'd used the big pitchers for this tonight, but apparently not!, if the one she had was almost already empty!, "the guy's name is Hughie, even I already feel bad for him."

"Right?" Annie agreed, idly munching on a little chunk of apple. "Like, of all the red flags, that right there. Note to self: be suspicious of guys named Hughie."

Which was not going to help her with the Wanda problem, but honestly -- it was so much more common that some nice-guy asshole got in Annie's way than for one of her actual friends to go through something horrific and take Annie down with her, really.

MHA #4; Friday Evening [01/20].

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