𝘚𝘜𝘗𝘌𝘙𝘕𝘖𝘝𝘈.ᐟ

#M4TCHSTICK: an independent writing blog for JONATHAN "JOHNNY" STORM, also known as THE HUMAN TORCH of the marvel franchise. very marvel critical. headcanon based with drawn influence from both older and more recent comics. none much from the movies, if cherrypicked! prior knowledge of the fantastic four is not required to interact, i do prefer to keep my mutuals twenty-one and over and am oc and crossover friendly! STUDYING: the fantastic four's golden boy, family over everything, to be loved is to be seen, fire that burns reckless and unruly and figuring out where you stand.

in orbit with : reed richards. galactus. wanda maximoff. pietro maximoff. rogue. loki laufeyschild. references: fantastic four mythos, fantastic four (1961), fantastic four (2012), fantastic four (2014), fantastic four (2022), marvel two-in-one (2017), uncanny avengers (II), spider-man and the fantastic four. the human torch miniseries.

although the human torch's residency in the ol' double b wasn't nearly as frequent, it was a wonderful backup. still home; comforting silence and lengthy hallways navigated via muscle memory. johnny knew where everything should and shouldn't be, every sound, structure. including disturbances, an interesting factor for a place with such high defenses. a figure hunched in the kitchen, his hand raised with fire blooming from the wrist up as a stand-in light. how many people outside of the family could go in and out without concern? the list existed on one hand.

one, two … three. fingers popped up from a loose fist as robert bid reassurance, the irony only bristling already fragile torch. " could’ya quit using the word fired? i’m a little sensitive to the topic right now. " partially a jest, though he’d learned from the best how to break through thick tension with just that. eyebrows shot up as his options were laid out, his body now leaning back into his seat, arms folding over his chest as though he had the option to consider. to potentially deny. in no position to, not in the slightest, johnny kept an open ear and a brief hand to top the one at his arm. even his own squeeze.

reconciliation with his circumstances seemed to be on the horizon, despite the deep ache and begged question; who was he without? that was the worst part, the inability to really tell. such a powerful force tended to be so fickle under duress, unfortunately.

her notification among many always caught his attention. perhaps it was thanks to a special tune; dedicated sound cue that was bound to rip him away from the present, whatever kira needed. repetitive text had him upright within moments, and lit like a feeble flick of a lighter.

feet skipped over the ground like a stone on a lake; long strides and stuttering slightly before the inevitable sink. in a purposefully far off corner away from calming destruction and recuperating allies, johnny could feel the buzz beneath his skin grow stronger as he neared the fasted man alive. pace steadied into a light jog, despite how badly he wanted to sprint; their grounds for affection not entirely stable quite yet. it was surprising, however, the way he was grasped at the wrist and hauled into opposing chest. much like him, he reciprocated readily.

fire escape’s steel felt cool beneath his palm, most of his weight at the arm, and it was bound to leave those funny little indents in his skin. his head kept itself rested against the guard rail, eyes widened a fraction in thought, reflecting their conversation. the pair just barely fit; situated like a puzzle in rectangular space, johnny’s legs were laid over kon’s and a half empty box of pizza sat precarious on his knee. cheese was stiff. the lid had been left open.

he could feel it before entering; something growing like an ominous cloud from one area of the building. hot and dangerous, catastrophic if not taken care of. he'd never flown through a window so fast; save for every other time something of this matter occurred. johnny could do nothing but bid her a distracted agreement as weightless steps carried him to the source. right, the good ol' microwave fire. still, bad!

such a large space somehow felt suffocating; despite large rounded table and floor to ceiling windows that allowed for the warmth of sunset. jonathan sat at the further end, arms planted onto glossed over wood and the rest of him holding a pitiful posture. forehead rested against his arms, he’d noticed he could feel the difference in temperature via his own touch. definitely not supposed to happen, and only another twist to the oddly shaped knife in his chest. they were draining slowly, what kept him in flight and bright as the very sun.

robert’s voice settled his shoulders, vibrating smooth from the throat and carrying a firmness that felt reassuring. blonde fanned out over his limbs, wind rustled and bothered. he hadn’t picked his head up quite yet, not entirely done wallowing in the hole he’d dug for himself.