#I’m not saying he’s autistic. not saying I’m autistic. we’re just gonna hold hands and let me have this Okay ? He’s Weird Abt It

[solargeist]

grian should be weird abt eye contact

[mmkclarkey]

We have a spare room - Part 2

When everything goes wrong, moving in with three guys will help?

~a week later~

You were staring at the empty room in front of you, well, empty besides the littered boxes around, when a bang came from just outside quickly followed by a soft knock on the door.

You giggled to yourself as you muttered a “come in” completely unaware of what was about to occur.

“Do you think aliens are real?” Arthur asks you, making you furrow your brows in confusion.

“Leave her alone Arthur! She’s unpacking I’m sure the last thing she wants is to get involved in our debates” Another voice came from the hall, a voice you didn’t recognise straight away as another man walks in to your room, Chris and George following close behind, giggling to each other. The man was around the same height as Arthur with slightly messy hair and a light stubble almost the same as Chris’ but a similar brown to Arthur’s. Something about his demeanour changed, almost like he realised what he had done and quickly broke out in a small smile, reaching his hand out for you to shake it. You accept it, noting how he shook it very excitedly.

“Hi, I’m Arthur” he says in a happy tone, making you smile before having a realisation.

“That’s not confusing at all” you speak before Arthur (your roommate) explains that he’s Arthur Hill, a YouTuber and singer, whereas the other man, sporting a -whales of the ocean t-shirt- was the “autistic best friend who grew up with Chris then stole everyone’s hearts” and that his name was ArthurTv.

This explanation makes you giggle, ArthurTv smacking the other round the back of the head.

“Stop introducing me to people as the autistic Arthur!” He exclaims, voice breaking slightly making everyone else in the room laugh.

The boys quickly filter out of your room, leaving you to unpack your things, cursing that you didn’t ask them to stay and help.

You begin to unpack furniture, using the rest of your free day with no filming to do to build your bed and shelves, trying your best to replicate your old room so that it wouldn’t look too obvious to people that you’ve yet again had to move from a place you moved into not even two months ago.

~

It takes you longer than expected to build the bed. Admittedly it was because you kept taking dance breaks in between while your music is blasting, most of said dance breaks were to Red Wine Supernova by Chappell Roan, the song being repeated at least 7 times before you were done, making a two hour job into four, taking a break before building your shelves. You lay back on your bed, taking deep breaths due to the exhaustion you felt from building, before suddenly Chris’ voice rang through the doorway, travelling from the living room.

“Are you coming through to eat? We’re gonna order something in?”

You contemplate this before walking out of your room, turning the corner into the living room, immediately confused and shocked as Arthur Hill, Chris, ArthurTv and yet another man you didn’t know were sprawled out on the floor in a pile, the one you don’t know looking up at you from the floor, reaching his hand up as much as he could to shake it.

“I’m Isaac, friends call me Bach though” the man says in a strained tone, most likely from the other three men lay on his back. You notice his full beard and mullet, nearly black as you shake his hand.

You look to the sofa and notice George sat scrolling through his phone, laughing at something funny he’s seen, on the other side, is a girl, around 5’1 sat laughing at the pile of testosterone on the floor. She looks up at you smiling, standing up to give you a warm hug. You immediately noticed that the girl radiated the golden light that came through the window, showing off natural beauty as you smiled back.

“I’m Liv, I’m Isaac’s girlfriend… sadly, I’ve heard so much about you from these three, it’ll feel good to have another girl around finally!” She smiles at you as she holds your shoulders.

You giggle a bit in response, telling her your name “Hi Liv, it’s so lovely to meet you, what is going on down there?” You point down at the pile of men on the floor, a furrowed brow on your face as George pipes in from beside you when you sit down.

“It started as Bach saying that he’s stronger than Chris, then TV stuck up for Bach, then Hill stood up for Chris and then they just kind of… did this.” He says, not looking up from his phone for a second before looking up at you, as was nearly lay down on the sofa at this point.

“What do you want for food?”

“Hmmmm…” You contemplate in your mind what you’d want, deep in thought about it for some reason before you snap out of it, not realising that the group of men on the floor are now off of each other and sat on the floor separately, shouting what they want to eat, not one agreeing.

“Everyone shut the fuck up! She’s deciding.” Liv shouts, all of them immediately going silent, clearly showing that although she was Bach’s girlfriend, was also very clearly the one who kept them all in line.

You send her a smile before laughing, blurting out “let’s get Chinese”, Chris cheering at you agreeing on his choice, you pull a dirty look at him jokingly “it wasn’t for you Chris, i just really want a chow mein”

Your answer makes the room erupt in ooo’s and “you got burned” as George looks at you with a smile.

“Good choice, maybe living with you won’t be too bad, but for the love of everything, stop blasting Chappell Roan”

“Never, live with it or kick me out” you cross your arms as you lean back, he stays silent as he looks at you for a second. “That’s what I thought, you’re gonna love me one day George, trust me I’m a great flat mate”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/n- hey guys, just warning you, it won’t be posts everyday but i wanted to give you guys something else (either that or stop myself from going insane from not being able to post) I hope you enjoy this one, i swear we’ll get an actual plot line soon, I just want to build relationships before I make it too fun

Tag list (let me know if you want to join): @authortelevision @onlinesuzie @pretendyoucantseeme @44-ilton @chilwellsancho

[salty-croissants]

I’m literally in love with your stuff. Can you maybe to Bullfrog and Rayman with an autistic reader?

Thank you for the request ! 

I’m so happy you’ve been enjoying my writings , it really means a lot ❤️

I gotta say I was a bit worried about not doing this one right … I did put a few things that I personally find relatable as someone who is autistic myself , thought it would be nice to include is all , I hope this works ! 

Details : use of gender neutral reader ; 

established relationships ; 

no warnings needed 

Bullfrog 💚 

So , this frog man ? He loves you unconditionally , and he just really wants you to know that he will always accept you and your unique traits , even when you feel insecure about them …

< I … I don’t know , Bullfrog … sometimes I just feel like all I’m doing is being a burden to y - > 

< Non . Don’t even finish that . 

You’re the most wonderful person I have ever met , y/n , and there isn’t a single day in which I’m not thankful for having you in my life . > 

< Really … ? > 

< Oui , mon amour . I long for nothing more than being with you . > 

< *sniff* > 

< Oh - Are you alright ? I’m so sorry , I didn’t mean to make you cry - > 

< Heh … it’s okay … I’m just really happy . 

I love you so much ~ >

  Bullfrog loves listening to you enthusiastically going on and on about something you’re passionate about , especially when he’s not having a good day : 

just hearing the sound of your voice is so , so very comforting to him … if he could he would sit beside you for days , his attention reserved for you and you alone . 

< … and what’s even more awesome is that there is actually a really subtle easter egg hidden in the background which changes the entire narrative for that charact - 

… wait , how long have I been … ? >

< That is very interesting my dear ! 

Please keep going , j'adore le son de ta voix ~ >

< Aww - > 

Your adorable expressions when he showers you with compliments …

Bullfrog can’t even begin to describe how happy they make him ://)

If being around people gets too overwhelming , Bullfrog is quick to pick up on that and he’ll immediately get you someplace more quiet , willing to do whatever it takes to make sure you’re comfortable and safe … 

< Is this really okay ? I’m so sorry , it’s just … it was so crowded and loud in there , and I … >

< Mon cher , there is no reason for you to be sorry … let’s just stay here for now , then if you wish to try and go back in we can do that , or we can always go back home : I assure you , you’ve already done more than enough tonight … I am very proud of you , and you should be too . > 

And if one day something starts making you very , very anxious ? 

Well , no matter what the reason is and no matter how small it might be Bullfrog is going to stay close to you to help you out in whatever way he can .

< I’m so sorry for making you put up with me like this … you already have so much to take care of , and this … is just dumb . > 

< y/n , ce n'est pas te supporter , you know that .

I want to be there for you , the same way you’re always there for me …

I promise you , we can find a way out of this , you don’t have to deal with it on your own . > 

< Thank you so much , Bullfrog … you’re amazing ~ > 

< Ce serait toi , my dear … I’m truly blessed to have you by my side ~ > 

Rayman 🧡

Saying that you mean a lot to this man would be an understatement …

You mean absolutely everything to him , so you better believe that Rayman will always be careful about all the things that could potentially make you uncomfortable , remembering them all very accurately .

< Here sweetie , hold my hand for a moment … > 

< Oh - okay , but why ? > 

< We’re gonna need to pass through that crowd over there , it should be quick but I don’t want you to get overwhelmed by having many people and loud noises all around , so let’s just stay close until we get through … > 

< Thanks Ray … just … don’t let go , please . > 

< I would never . > 

All the effort Rayman puts into making you feel as comfortable as possible no matter where the two of you are … it never fails to warm your heart . 

If anyone even remotely says something mean spirited about you … 

Ohh boy , he’s not going to let it slide .

< Uh , excuse me ? WHAT was that about my partner ? > 

< Ray , honey , it’s okay … > 

Yeah , Rayman is definitely very protective of you , and he will defend you with no hesitation if anyone dares to try and make you feel inadequate in any way . 

Rayman loves listening to you talk about whatever topics come to your mind while he’s working …

It actually helps him focus quite a lot , and he really never gets bored of seeing how happy you look when info dumping about something you’re passionate about .

You’re just so pretty ! He can’t get over it …

If you tend to lose focus to the point of forgetting to take care of yourself , Rayman has got you covered : he makes sure to remind you to eat and drink water often , even leaving little notes in places where he knows you’ll find them …

“Important : remember to eat today ! <3”

“If you’re reading this … get a glass of water !” 

His devotion to you is nothing less than adorable … but then again , you’re the person he cares about most , the one that showed him kindness without asking for anything in return , so now ? 

Rayman deems it only fair to repay that kindness in his own way . 

[bellarkeselection]

Hi I just saw your page and I was wondering if you could write an missy x fem reader as friends and reader is there for the summer and they kinda get into trouble together and it’s kinda angsty but ends with fluff maybe.

Your the only person I found that write for missy.

And maybe you can make the reader a little autistic so like sometimes she can’t sarcasm. (I’m autistic and it’s so hard to find autistic y/n that I can relate to)

If you can’t write it that’s fine.

Hope your doing fine and having a nice day.

Srry that this is long.

Hi anonymous asker, sorry it took me a little bit but I hope this is what you wanted. Missy is my favorite character along with Georgie and Meemaw 😁 You are the first person to request anything for Missy so thank you so much

Always Got Your Back

My mom decided that we would come to Texas for the summer instead of staying in Montana like we did last year which was so awesome for me because that meant I got to see my best friend Missy Cooper. My mom parked the truck and I jumped out of the backseat seeing the front door of the Cooper house fling opened. Holding my arms open Miss tackled me in a hug of laughter and giggles where we tumbled to the grass. “Y/n! I can’t believe you’re here.”

“Neither can I, Missy. I have been so excited since my last day of school.” I barely broke the embrace still hugging her and grinning like it was Christmas morning while my mom grabbed some stuff and Missy’s dad and brother Geoegie come outside to help get our bags since we we’re staying at their house.

Missy takes me by the arm dragging me towards the baseball fields that her drove us to so she could show me her skills as the only female girl on the baseball team. Standing behind her I watched her throw almost all the baseballs in the exact same spot. “Do you want to give it try?” She offered holding out a ball to me that she had in her hands.

“Missy I don’t know…” I shook my head not sure if I should or not.

The Cooper girl wasn’t taking no for an answer though. “Come on. I can teach you. It isn’t as hard as you think.”

Nodding my head I let her help me get set up. She stands behind me giving me the ball moving my fingers on the red stitch marks on the ball, drawing my arm back like she did a few minutes ago. “So you just look where you want the ball to go and throw it with a little give. Okay, so I’m gonna stand behind you and see how you do.” She stepped backwards while i launched the ball forward where it hit the fence a little off to the left compared to how hers were in the center of the fence.

“You think adding another girl to our team will make you any better,Cooper. That girl couldn’t throw if she had her eyes closed.” Whipping my head around I heard a boy say voice who was watching us from the outside of the fence.

Missy spun around on her feet. “What do you want Marcus?”

“I came to practice but I didn’t expect to see two girls who can’t throw worth nothing.” He scoffed toward my friend where I turned my hands into fists at my sides.

Snapping at him I dared my best friend. “You know what I..I bet Missy could take your eye out without blinking.”

“Oh yeah and what do you know about baseball huh. Why don’t you go sit where the rookies eat lunch…behind the plate.” Marcus walked up and gave me a little shove.

I stumbled back slightly confused at what he meant by that. Growing up I have never been good at sensing Sarcasm so I wasn’t sure. “What do you mean?”

“Say Cooper how stupid is this friend of yours - ow!” Marcus got cut off when something hit him in the face where he held his hand over his eye and I saw a baseball at his feet where he was groaning in slight pain.

Turning my head around quickly I saw Missy was dusting her hands on her pants glaring at the boy she used to like in middle school until she found out he liked another girl. “Missy!”

“What’s a baseball player do when his eyesight starts to fail him?” Missy grumbled at him watching the boy rush to his feet and running through the fence line. “He takes a job as an umpire.”

Rushing back over to her I gave her a half smile liking what she had done for me. She has always been there for me no matter what. “Missy, thank you. But uh…was that sarcasm?”

“Yes it was. And don’t worry about what he said. With practice you can get better Y/n.” She holds my hand in hers grinning brightly dragging me towards the fence where she hollered for her dad knowing what would make m feel better. “Dad, Y/n needs ice cream!” The three of us got some ice cream and I felt better afterwards knowing I was in for an exciting summer with her.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[bluejaysandblackbats]

A Yellow Ribbon

Fandom: DC Comics, Young Justice, Flashfam, Superfam

Summary: Conner's been best friends with Bart ever since they met at the carnival when they were children. The problem is that Bart can't remember meeting Conner that night. But Thad does...

Chapters: 13/?

Characters: Clark Kent, Conner Kent, Lois Lane, Bart Allen, Thaddeus Thawne, Don Allen, Meloni Allen, Jonathan "Pa" Kent, Martha Kent, Max Crandall

Relationships: KonBart, KonThad, Clois, MelonixDon, Ma/Pa Kent

Additional Tags: No Powers AU, Mistaken Identity, Possibly Unrequited Love, Unrequited Crush, Twins, Lies, Stolen Moments, Unconventional Love Triangles, Misunderstandings, Childhood Friends, Complicated Relationships, Family Dynamics, Family Bonding, Best Friends, Secret Crush, Autistic Bart Allen, Autistic Thad Thawne, Thaddeus Thawne Gets a Hug, Conner Kent-centric, Bisexual Conner Kent, Conner Kent Needs a Hug, Third Person POV, Hurt Clark Kent, Boys in Love, Friendship/Love, Farm/Ranch AU, Farmboy Conner Kent, Grandparents and Grandchildren, Unconventional Families, Unconventional Relationship, Romance, Light Angst, Strangers to Lovers, Cyrano, Jewish Superfam

Chapter Thirteen: Sweet Dreams

Clark woke the boys up early, smiling at how peacefully they slept in Thad’s bed. “Hey, fellas. We’ve got a big day planned,” Clark whispered. Thad sat up and wiped his eyes with his palms. He glanced down at Conner and smiled. Conner rolled out of bed and hugged Clark before heading to the bathroom. Thad was relieved that Conner didn’t explain why he wasn’t in his bed. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m alright now… I couldn’t sleep,” Thad confessed. Clark crouched beside the bed. 

“Bart, I know it can be tough being this far from home. I’m not even from this country. Did you know that?” Clark asked. Thad shook his head. “I was born far away, but I was raised here by my Ma and Pa, and they taught me one very important thing. A house is a place but home is just a bit of you scattered in meaningful places. I hope you can make this place one of your homes this summer, Bart.”

Thad didn’t completely understand, but it stuck with him. “Mr. Kent?” Thad whispered. “Thank you for letting me stay here.” 

“Thank you for coming. Conner’s so happy to have you here,” Clark smiled, “Now, you should go and get ready.” Thad nodded.

**

Thad and Conner sat on top of the spider climber in the park, and Thad lost his balance and grabbed Conner’s arm. Conner held his hand, interlacing their fingers. “I’ve got you,” Conner whispered. 

Thad puffed out his chest, holding his breath as he tried to figure out something tough to say, but he couldn’t find anything. So, he said something genuine instead. “I don’t know what I’m gonna be when I grow up… I don’t know why it scares me so much,” Thad confessed, “I wanted to live… But I don’t want to grow up. I’m scared of what will happen when I do.”

Conner frowned. “I think we’ll be friends when we’re grown up,” Conner whispered. And it took the weight off of Thad. 

“How are we gonna get down?” Thad asked. 

Conner giggled and let go of Thad’s hand. “Okay. I’m gonna go first, and you follow me,” Conner replied. He turned around and started climbing down. Thad waited until Conner was on the ground before he started climbing down after him. His foot slipped, and he yelped as he fell backward. Conner caught him and fell on his back. Clark and Lois rushed over, and Conner started laughing. 

Thad rolled onto his hands and knees and started apologizing profusely. “Conner, I’m so sorry. Are you hurt?” Thad asked. He helped Conner up and dusted the wood chips off. 

“I’m okay. You’re not that heavy,” Conner reassured him. 

Thad saw Conner’s scraped elbow and held back tears as he reached into his bag for his first aid kit. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he turned Conner’s arm over to get a better look. He sprayed Conner’s elbow with antiseptic and wrapped his arm. “Does it hurt?” Thad asked. Conner shook his head before hugging Thad. 

“I’m okay, Bart. I’m okay,” Conner whispered. 

**

Thad took a picture of Conner cutting apples at the table. “Feel better?” Conner asked. Thad nodded. “You sure?” 

“I’m okay. Hey, I was thinking about what you said earlier. Do you really think you’d want to be friends with me when we grew up?” Thad asked. Conner drizzled lemon juice over the apples he cut and started on another apple. 

“Sure. I wanna be friends with you forever. I think we’ll be friends forever,” Conner replied without looking up, “You’re my best friend in the whole world.” 

Thad smiled, growing quiet as he snapped a picture of Clark while he used a cookie cutter to cut the dough into perfect circles. “You’re my best friend, too,” Thad whispered as he reached for the mood ring around his neck. 

Thad set his camera to the side and washed his hands before helping design the boxes. “What’s the bake sale for?” Thad asked. 

“Oh, it’s not a bake sale. We’ve got a booth at the fair,” Conner answered. He was so heavily focused on his task that he never looked up from his apples except to look at the boxes. “Where’d you learn to draw like that?” 

“My dad’s an artist. I help him paint sometimes,” Thad replied. 

“Do you think you’d want to do art when you grow up?” Conner asked. 

“It’s not a fiscally responsible plan of action,” Thad recited, quoting his other grandfather of the same name. 

Conner knit his brows together, grinning as he looked at Thad. “Bart, I don’t know what that means, but I think you should do what you like,” Conner replied. Thad shrugged. “Too many people live lives they don’t want thinking they’ll get to be happy later. Why not be happy the whole time?” 

“He’s got a point, Bart. Journalism is a hard business to get into, but Clark and I struggled to be the best investigative journalists we could be. If we didn’t take chances on dreams that seemed impossible, nothing in the world would have…”

“Color,” Clark finished Lois’ sentence without looking up from his dough. 

“Besides, you’re good at it already,” Conner added. 

**

At the end of the day, Thad grew quiet while they cleaned up to get ready for bed. “Bart, can I tell you a secret? I’m so nervous about going to middle school. You’re not in middle school yet, huh? You’re only going to sixth grade. Aren’t you?” Conner asked. 

“Oh… Um, my homeschool is K-through-twelve. So, I don’t have middle school or anything like that,” Thad answered. 

Conner took off his glasses and squinted at Thad. “Do you ever get lonely?” Conner questioned. 

“Not really… If I’m not with you, I like being by myself. It’s not so bad,” Thad whispered as he climbed into bed. He held his breath for a moment, wondering if he’d have to tell Conner he was still frightened to sleep on his own. That was the last thing he wanted to do. 

Conner dropped his socks in the hamper and yawned. “When I was eight and you were seven, you got really sick… I asked if you remembered meeting me at the fair. You said no… Do you still not remember?” Conner asked. 

That was the one white lie Thad told Bart. He didn’t want Bart to know he was pretending to be him that night at the fair, so he convinced Bart he was there and didn’t remember. “Uh-huh. You bought me a corndog and gave me this,” Thad whispered as he showed Conner the original mood ring from that night. Conner climbed into Thad’s bed. Thad sank into the pillows, finally able to relax. He squeezed the blanket in his fists. 

“Do you mind if I sleep here?” Conner asked. Thad shook his head. “Do you eat scrambled eggs?” 

“Uh-huh. I love scrambled eggs,” Thad whispered. 

Conner closed his eyes and rolled close to Thad. “I’m gonna make you some eggs tomorrow… Do you miss your family saying they love you before bed?” Conner questioned. 

“A little bit,” Thad whispered. 

“I’ll say it until you go home, then… I love you, Bart,” Conner whispered. 

Thad clutched his chest, wondering why he felt sad. “I love you too, Conner,” Thad whispered. He turned to look at Conner, but he looked like he was already fast asleep. “We love you too, Conner.”

[dravenistired]

Okay, so, random thought as an autistic burnt out gifted kid; does anyone else feel like the song ‘How the World Works’ by Bo Burnham is like, sorta how school is for gifted kids?

I don’t know, like Socko represents us, and at first he explains where he’s been, where he describes how he’s kinda just been floating in a seemingly inter-dimensional space in his perception, and he compares it to a constant state of sleep paralysis (which I’ve connected to executive dysfunction with us), and when asked to help Bo explain how the world works, he’s begins just telling the truth about how the world actually is instead of the narrative that school feeds us all the time, then when they stick people onto you that you’re supposed to explain how it works, you’re expected to be patient and understanding and explain it to a bunch of people you don’t even wanna be around at the tender age of 7.

Maybe it’s just me, or I’m just projecting, but I feel like it’s constantly our responsibility as young people to explain people out of their ignorance, which isn’t inherently bad, it’s just super tiring for a group of kids and/or teenagers to constantly be explaining why they deserve to exist ( i.e black young people, POC young people in general, queer young people, neurodiverse young people, and all of the intersectional bits of those things)

Then, after Bo says that he’s just “trying to be a better person”, Socko snaps and goes on a rant about how upper-crust first class white people constantly feel the need to insert themselves into every single socio-political or economically underdeveloped issue that exists in the current world in attempts to convince themselves they’re “part of the solution” when really, all they’re doing is throwing money (that, mind you, would amount to pocket change to them seeing as a lot of those rich people don’t pay taxes) at random charities without doing any research or actually wanting to make a difference, then call themselves activists when they make a few videos and talk about it for seven minutes out of the 525,600 minutes of the year. He says this isn’t about Bo, so he can either get with it, or don’t get in the way of people actually trying to make a difference.

Then, as what usually happens when we as (mostly if not all) neurodiverse gifted kids tend to go off on those kinds of rambles, as well as when we hit too close to home with information they don’t want us to “poison” the other peoples minds with, Bo proceeds to tell Socko to watch his language and the thing he said that really stuck out to me is he said “Remember who’s on who’s hand here!” And the way he says it is so chipper and he’s smiling and laughing as he says it, but the undertones are the same; “Watch yourself, don’t forget who controls you.” Which really hits home, because a lot of the time, if we step out of line, we’re told that we could ruin our lives with our behavior, and they threaten us with an array of things, like failing us, holding us back, all that stuff.

Socko, of course, literally stammers in shock and asks if Bo has been listening to anything he’s been saying, and when he tries to speak again, (and this is actually in the video, but even without it, it’s interesting to think about) Bo starts to put Socko away, to which Socko starts to scream and beg not to go back (again, I kinda associate this with us begging for resources and begging to not go back to toxic places we’ve been pulled out of, which applies to quite a few different circumstances)

He literally begs and pleads and apologizes for saying what he did, and then this happens:

“Are you gonna behave yourself?”

“…Yes.”

“Yes, what?

“Yes, si-”

“Look at me.”

“Yes, sir.”

And then Bo just starts singing again, and he says he hopes that’s Socko learned his lesson, to which Socko says he did and it was painful.

And right at the end of the song, they do the chorus and Socko’s voice is strained and just so worn out, and Bo rolls his eyes and rips him off his hand, to which Socko immediately screams “No- NO-!” Which I think is kind of a callback to if you don’t act like everything is fine and act like you’re supposed to (aka MASKING) they’ll stick you back where it hurts, and they won’t let you out til you promise to behave “like you’re supposed to”.

Anyway, that’s all.

[osamustar]

High School Sweetheart

Part two

Previous - Next

No trigger warnings provided.

Sexual content.

Female reader.

You were zoned out in the passenger seat of Michael’s car, imagining the two of you having the most nasty, disrespectful sex you could possibly think of. You jumped, feeling Michael’s hand on your thigh. “You okay over there? You’re going cross eyed.” You smacked his arm, glaring at him. “Some things are better left unsaid you asshole.” “What? It’s cute.” He smiled, keeping his eyes on the road. “What’re you thinking about? You seemed really into it.” “Nothing…” “Oh really? You’re pretty flustered right now I don’t think nothi—“ “Shut up, Michael!”

You’ve been with Michael for five years and telling him that you thought about him railing you every five minutes never got any easier. It was embarrassing. Michael confidently talked about what he thought about with you all the time. Usually he would just blurt things out. Fault of his ADHD. “Dude… So earlier—“ “Dude.” You mocked him, smiling out the window. “Shut up, damn… I don’t even wanna say it anymore…” He pouted. “Aww did I upset the baby?” You pinched his cheek, quickly pulling away as he turned his head to nip your hand. He smiled, “you’re an asshole, but I love you.” He sighed, turning into Carrie’s driveway where Billy’s truck was parked.

Michael got out and rushed to the other side before you could open the door yourself, opening it for you. “M’lady.” He bowed, putting his hand out for you to grab. You giggled, taking ahold of his hand as he helped you out. You looked up at her house in awe. It was massive, all white, with giant pillars holding up the ceiling. “Someone has a rich daddy…” Michael mumbled, walking up to the door with his arm wrapped around your waist. Michael wore his same outfit from earlier, but you had changed into a small dress and pumps after Michael ran by your house.

Michael banged on the door, the door almost immediately opening. Jason stood behind the door, awkwardly waving. Out of the group you liked Jason best. He was the sweetest one, only wanting to make people happy. “Hi Jason, How are you doing?” You smiled as he let the two of you in. “I-I’m good… We just got done setting up all the tables outside.” He looked down at the ground. He always had a hard time maintaining eye contact, and interacting with people. He tried his best though to fit in. Michael wrapped an arm around Jason, shaking him a bit as he squeezed him. “We’re gonna have a good time tonight, alright? You let me know if anyone messes with you.” He rubbed his knuckles into Jason’s head. Jason smiled, nodding. “Jason! Where the hell are you?!” Billy screamed from across the house. “I-I gotta go…” Jason scurried off. Michael sighed, “Jason’s autistic… I’m not sure if I ever told you that. We all look out for him, and I hope you will too. There’s usually no issues as long as us boys are around, but if you see him wondering off and encountering some problems, you let us know, alright?” Michael looked down at you with a very stern look. You nodded, smiling solemnly, “Jason’s a sweet boy, I’ve always looked out for him…” “Exactly. No one hurts my boy.”

——————————————————————————

“Is this what you were imagining earlier, baby? Me treating you like an object… Using you like a little fuck toy?” The two of you had snuck off upstairs into one of the vacant guest bedrooms. More like one of you, Michael, drug you up here. Michael grabbed a fistful of your hair, tugging your head back, exposing your neck. Michael hummed softly into your ear, licking your lobe. He groaned as he thrusted into you, smacking your ass. He shoved you back into the mattress to hold your hips, squeezing your thickness. Cute little giggles left him as he destroyed you, leaving you a drooling, whimpering mess.

Michael flipped you over, slipping himself back into you. His hand clasped around your neck, smiling down at you when he saw how defeated you looked. “M-Michael we should really get back before—“ “Shh, baby… They already know with your loud mouth.” Your face darkened, feeling incredibly embarrassed. Michael slammed into you, bringing out a loud breathy moan from inside of you. “You sound so pretty, baby…” He whispered, his hand squeezing around your throat. You whine softly, bucking your hips. “How could you possibly want more? I’m doing my best here…” He mumbled, grabbing onto your hips to thrust into you better. “Mi—chael” You stuttered with each of his thrusts. You bounced against him, hands clenching the bed covers.

“Michael! We need you down here!” Billy yelled from downstairs. “Goddamnit…” Michael cursed, quickening his pace. If he didn’t finish, he was going to get you to, that’s for sure. He never left you unsatisfied. He leaned down to your ear, his fingers rubbing against your clit. “Cum for me, baby… Don’t want to keep them waiting…” He purred. You whined, turning to face him. You grabbed his face, kissing him. Michael closed his eyes, his hand caressing your cheek. Your hips bucked against his fingers, moaning into the kiss.

Michael successfully got you to cum, and even got himself to as well. Win, win. However, you were a complete mess. Your mascara was bleeding down your cheeks, and your lipstick was smeared. “Michael… I didn’t bring a bag to fix this…” You sigh, staring at yourself in the mirror. Michael zoned out staring at you, finding it hot how he managed to create such a masterpiece. “Michael!” You hit him, knocking him out of it. “What?” “I’m not going out there looking like this!” You hissed, “Go find some of Carrie’s makeup for me…” “Why me?!” “Because this is your fault!” “Fine… I’ll be right back…” He sighed, walking off. You roll your eyes, rubbing some soap in your hands until it got bubbly, washing off your face until it was bare.

Michael came back with an assortment of items. Most of it wasn’t even makeup. “God… Um… Okay, yeah… Thank you…” You grabbed the mascara from his hands, and a peachy colored lipstick. You would’ve used her concealer to hide some of the spots you wanted to cover, but you guys weren’t the same skin tone. “You look beautiful, just go without makeup…” Michael assured. “It’s a party, I can’t go without!” You retorted, shoving the items back into his hands to take back. “Jeez, okay Miss grumpy pants.” He mumbled, walking back to Carrie’s bedroom.

——————————————————————————

You and Carrie developed a nice conversation together as the boys set up everything for her. “I had Michael sneak into your room to borrow some of your makeup, I hope that’s okay…” “Oh no worries! I totally get it. I just pray you guys didn’t do it in my parents bedroom.” “We made sure it was vacant… Nothing was in the drawers so.” “Oh, perfect. Thank god… Im pretty sure I locked their room just in case, so there was no getting in there anyways. I’m glad you came! I don’t have to hang by myself. These boys don’t do anything but make fun of me…” She sighed. “We love you though.” Freddy smiled, patting Carrie’s back as he drank from his cup. Freddy wore his usual red and green striped sweater. “Oh whatever.” Carrie rolled her eyes. You giggled, looking around the yard for Michael. “Where did Michael go?” You asked. “Oh he went to get the kegs.” Freddy replied. “Oh… Uh, when will people start showing up?” You felt weird without Michael around, you never hung around his friend’s without him. “Probably in the next five minutes.” Billy came walking over, blatantly drunk already. He giggled, ruffling Carrie’s hair. “Billy you asshole!” Carrie cried out, getting up and running after him.

Freddy took a seat in front of you, looking rather serious. He leaned in close to you, “Don’t worry about Michael tonight alright? We’ll try to keep him under control to the best of our ability. I don’t think anyone wants to see a dead body tonight.” He sighed. You were taken back by his words, not expecting him to bring it up. “Um… Yeah, thank you. He’s um… Not exactly remorseful over last night.” “Yeah we’ve noticed over the past few fights he’s been in. I don’t think he’s fighting for you anymore. It’s something… Darker.” You already knew, but it still brought up fear inside of you. “Why do you think this is happening..?” You whispered. “It’s always been in him. He killed his sister when he was just six years old but attorneys covered it up and sent him right back home.” What..? You thought his sister was alive. “She’s… She’s dead? Michael told me she—“ “Yeah, he tells everyone that she’s at her “boyfriend’s house” and she’s in college so she’s never home… I mean, anythings better than telling people you killed your sister.” Freddy shrugged. “I guess he doesn’t thrust me like I thought he did…” You look down, saddened by the news you received. “It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, he’s just scared of what you’ll think of him. Though after last night, I’m not sure if that’s true anymore. He’s acting it off like it was the usual.” Freddy sighed, rubbing his head. “I’m sorry, Y/N. We’re going to try our best to help him. You just need to be as supportive as you can. He needs it.” Freddy placed his hand on top of yours, “I don’t know what would happen if he didn’t have you, Y/N. A lot more people would be gone from this world, that’s for sure.” He rubbed your hand with his thumb, and stood up. “I gotta go let people in since these dumb fucks are too busy.” Freddy sighed, leaving you alone at the table. You stared at your hands, wondering if Michael had lied to you about anything else.

“The beer is here!” Michael shouted, holding two giant kegs in each arm, “Carrie! Where do you want these at?” “Oh! Just set them over there on that table.” Carrie pointed to the table next to you. Michael walked over, setting them down. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, kissing your neck gently from behind you. “What’s wrong, baby? Why the sad face?” He continued to kiss your face, rocking you back and forth. “I’m okay. Just thinking.” You smile, turning your head to peck his cheek. “Want something to drink? There’s about everything you could think of.” Michael massaged your shoulders. “No… I’m not going to drink tonight. Someone has to drive us home.” You giggled softly, placing your hands atop his. “You sure? I can play the sober one tonight if you wanna—“ “No… Every time I get drunk I get super emotional and horny. No one wants to see that.” “I do…” Michael mumbled.

The place filled up quickly until there was barely any room to walk around. You stayed at the same table with Michael and his friends. Jason held his cup close, keeping his head down. Freddy had a look of concern on his face as he eyed down everyone at the party, and Billy just sat there flirting with every girl that walked by. Michael had his arm wrapped around your shoulders, drinking the pack of Modelo he brought for himself. He had already gone through four.

“Michael, slow down…” You whisper in his ear, rubbing his back. “I’m fine, baby. I can handle myself.” He kissed the top of your head. “Last time you got drunk you killed someone…” You mumbled. “It won’t happen again.” Michael replied, staring off at everyone in the yard. Somehow you knew he was lying. Freddy knew it too, giving you his same concerned look he’s had for the past hour. Michael’s eyes were dark, looking for his next victim. You saw how his jaw clenched, his teeth grinding in anticipation.

“Michael… Let’s go inside. We can play beer pong.” You nudged his side gently, standing up. “I wanna stay out here.” He replied, not moving from his spot. You sighed, knowing you cant force him. You sat back down, looking over at Freddy. Freddy had his eyes on Michael, wondering what he was going to have to do in a few minutes when Michael decided on his victim. “I’m gonna go get more to drink…” Jason stood up from his seat, walking over to the sodas. Jason never drank, he respected his mother too much, and that was totally fine. Nothing wrong with that. However others thought differently.

You ran your fingers through Michael’s hair, leaning into him. Everyone had quieted down after some bickering came up. Everyone crowded around the area where the sodas were. “Oh fuck…” Freddy hissed, jumping out from his chair, running into the crowd. Michael’s head whipped around, realizing Jason was in trouble. He took off after Freddy, squeezing himself in between people, and shoving some. You and Billy looked at each other in confusion, standing up to see what was going on. Three boys surrounded Jason, one too close for comfort. “What the fuck are you gonna do, freak?” He smiled, pushing himself into Jason.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Michael pushed himself up front, walking over to the situation. The boy pressed up against Jason backed away to look up at Michael properly. “This retard bumped into me!” The boy referred to Jason. “Okay? Why’s that such a big deal? I think your ego is a bit too big for that frail body of yours.” Michael chuckled, pulling Jason behind him. “Frail? Who do you think you’re talking to?” He glared, rolling up his sleeves. Your eyes widened, running into the crowd, pushing people out of the way, whispering quiet apologies as you moseyed on through. “Michael! Don’t do this…” You whispered with pleading eyes. The boy’s eyes lit up when he saw you, a big smile growing on his face. His eyes flicked back to Michael, “this your girl? I feel bad… She’d look a lot better with me.” He snickered.

“Hey man I don’t think you wanna say that… That’s Michael Myers…” One of his friends whispered to him. “So what? All of those stories are bullshit.” He replied. Michael looked like he was about to rip his head off. “Baby, let’s go before you hurt someone…” You grabbed Michael’s arm, trying to pull him away from the area. “What’s this pretty thing doing? You trying to save me? I can handle myself.” He smiled, rubbing his hands together as he eyed you up and down. Michael was fuming at this point. You glared at him, “you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.” You spat, squeezing Michael’s arm. Billy and Freddy forced themselves out of the crowd, pulling Michael out of the circle. Michael didn’t fight back, and went with them, knowing he would damn well kill that boy if they didn’t.

You watched Michael get pulled away, saddened. You didn’t understand why there were people like this who caused fights. You jumped a bit when you felt a hand slither around your waist, getting pulled close to the boy’s body. “My name’s Travis… You must be Y/N huh? I’m sorry your little boy toy over there has anger issues… Poor thing. Have to treat him like a child.” He laughed. You shoved him off of you, grimacing at the feeling he left on you. You heard people gasp, and suddenly Michael burst through the wall of people, grabbing onto Travis’ shoulders, forcefully pinning him to the ground. “Let us through!” You heard Freddy’s voice scream from behind the wall. Your eyes widened, feeling yourself lock up at the sight of Michael’s fist colliding with the boy’s face.

Michael was straddling his torso, pummeling his face. All you could see was blood. Your vision was blurry with the color red. You felt like you couldn’t move a muscle, your entire body in shock. Everyone was rooting for Michael, chanting. However, once they realized Travis was no longer moving they quickly shut up. Everything was growing dark. You saw bright white sparks around you, the black spots clouding your vision. You fell backwards, and everything went black.

——————————————————————————

Your eyes fluttered open, wincing at the bright lights above you. “Hey! She’s awake!” You heard Billy’s voice shout. Someone grabbed your hand, squeezing it. You looked at your side to see Jason smiling at you, holding your hand. You smiled back, quickly met by a piercing pain in your head. You groaned, grabbing your head. “Man! Get her some more morphine, doc!” Billy continued to ramble on about how shitty the doctor was. Where were you? The hospital? Why were you here? “Hey… You feeling alright?” Freddy looked down at you, brushing your hair out of your face. “Where am I?” You grunt, lowering your hands. “The hospital… You passed out and hit your head pretty hard last night.” “Last night? How long have I been out?!” You gasp. “Not sure, I wasn’t counting…” Freddy rubbed the back of his head. You felt an instant ease as one of the nurses gave you more morphine. “Thank you…” You mumbled. “Thank god someone around here does their job…” Billy sat down next to Jason, continuing to complain.

“Where’s Michael..?” You expected him to be here. After all you were in the hospital… Your boyfriend should be here, not his friends. “He’s uh… He’s in custody.” Freddy chuckled. Your eyes widened, “what?” Your voice dropped low. “We haven’t heard the status on that kid Travis yet but he wasn’t moving after Michael had his way with him… Me and Billy tried so hard to get in there and stop it but people kept us out. Apparently a neighbor called the police for a noise complaint… Michael got taken in. He’s in a lot of trouble, Y/N… We’re not sure if he’s coming out of this.” Freddy explained. You felt yourself tear up. Michael just turned twenty. He wasn’t a minor. He couldn’t just slip out of the cop’s grasp. If that kid is dead, Michael may never see the light of day again.

[spencers-renaissance]

Shovel Talk

Summary: Hotch and Emily find out about Derek's relationship with Spencer and decide it's time for a chat.

Tags: fluff, humour, est. rel., protective!derek, emily, and hotch, relationship reveal, mentions of past hurt spencer

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 1.5k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

Inspired by this post by @penemily that I couldn't stop thinking about. Honestly I love this fic so much lol.

Derek isn’t quite sure how he’s found himself in a vacant office after hours, crowded into an office chair with broken wheels as the two most intimidating FBI agents he knows stand over him.

“Either of you want to tell me what the hell’s going on?” Derek asks, bewildered by how quickly his evening had changed. One minute he’s sneaking looks at Spencer over his computer screen, and the next he’s hauled off to a private room like some sort of hostage.

He’s not scared, but he’s definitely a little pissed off. It’s nearing 10pm and all he wants to do is go home with Spencer, curl up on the sofa and eat take-out in front of the TV as they celebrate closing a case in their own way. He used to celebrate by going out for a drink, falling into bed with a stranger if the opportunity arose, but a quiet evening on the sofa with his boy in his arms is surprisingly satisfying these days.

Hotch raises an eyebrow. “We know,” he says simply, something fierce behind his words.

Derek’s heart skips a beat. It’s not hard to figure out what it is he’s talking about. He and Spencer had started dating a couple of months ago but had decided to keep it under wraps for now; something so young and beautiful was too precious to expose to all the inevitable eventual complications just yet. They’re so ridiculously smitten, though, that he’s not exactly surprised two profilers paying close attention had figured it out.

Ignoring the quietly humming nerves starting up in his stomach, he mirrors Hotch’s raised eyebrow, trying not to look as affected as he feels. “So… what? You wait for Spencer to go to the bathroom to lure me to an empty office to beat me up?”

“Maybe,” Emily replies, voice dry.

Behind the nerves and the posturing, Derek can’t feel a small twinge of hurt. “Look, guys, we expected it to be a bit of a shock, but we thought you’d at least be happy for us—”

“It’s not a shock,” Hotch interrupts.

“What?”

“It’s not a shock,” Emily repeats. “Everyone saw this coming a mile off. We’re not surprised.”

Now, he’s even more lost. “Look, can you guys just sit down? You towering over me is creeping me out, man.”

“Good,” Hotch says easily.

Irritation takes over, and he stands up. “You know what, if you’re gonna be funny about it, I don’t actually have to be here.”

Before he can actually make to leave, though, Hotch is shoving him back down into the chair, old metal and plastic creaking under the force of his caught-off-guard body hitting it again. “Stay.”

“What is going on?” Derek explodes. Maybe under different circumstances he’d be able to profile the situation but as it stands, he’s stressed and confused, desperate only to be allowed to leave this dark, cramped room and take Spencer back to his place. It almost surprises him that all he craves in such a weird and unfamiliar situation is cuddles and a nature documentary, but he’s been with Spencer long enough for it to be approaching normal. The younger man’s probably back at his desk by now, wondering where he is, and Derek would hate for him to be worried. He just wants to go home.

“Derek, we are happy for you and Spencer,” Emily finally explains. “But we couldn’t in good conscience let this go on without having a… chat.” Her face twists into the faux charming expression he’s watched her use to disarm unsubs countless times. It stings a little that she’s using it on him.

He splutters a little as a realisation dawns on him, equal parts bemused and offended. “This is… this is a shovel talk!”

“Yes,” Hotch says with a straight face, his expression tight and intimidating as he tilts his head to the side slightly, clearly entirely unaffected by Derek’s emotions. “This is a shovel talk.”

Derek feels himself relax, tension easing slightly. “Guys, I appreciate the sentiment, but Spencer’s my boyfriend; nobody wants to protect him more than I do. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I’m pretty sure we could give you a run for your money,” Emily says, her expression quickly transforming into something far more dangerous and challenging than only moments previously. “Spencer has something every single member of this team would die to protect. And if you get in our way, then we’re going to have a problem.”

“Emily, what, we’re friends.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, shrugging easily, “and I love you. But Spencer is my little brother, and I would do anything to stop him from getting hurt. As long as you don’t interfere with my primary mission, we’ll be fine.”

Hotch speaks before Derek can get a word in. “Derek, I knew Spencer long before you did. I remember the first time Gideon brought him to one of our lunches, and I saw something in him that made my heart ache. It didn’t take me long to realise that what I saw were the scars left by incredible deep-seated pain. Spencer has been through hell and back throughout his life, and he’s been hurt repeatedly by people who were supposed to protect him, including Gideon. I would do anything to prevent him from getting hurt by someone like that again, you hear me? Anything.”

As confusing as this all is, Derek can’t help but feel touched by Hotch’s earnest, emotional speech. Most of his nightmares these days revolve around Spencer getting hurt, and it’s kind of reassuring to know that he has so many people in the world who will stop at nothing to prevent those horrible dreams from spiralling into reality.

He can’t help but smile a little. “I’m glad he has you two,” Derek says honestly, looking between them, “but I can assure you that if I ever hurt Spencer for some unfathomable reason, your services wouldn’t be needed. I would hate myself enough for all three of us.” Even just considering the hypothetical possibility of hurting Spencer makes his stomach turn: it’s enough for him to know that he wouldn’t need Hotch and Emily to hold him accountable to that, his own self-loathing would be punishment enough.

It seems to appease Hotch and Emily, who Derek realises look sort of like intimidating twin mafia bosses standing over him like this, and they finally step back a little, posture relaxing.

“Well, what are you waiting for then?” Emily says, smiling for real this time. “Get your boy and get home. It’s getting late, you know.”

He rolls his eyes at her as he makes his way to the door.

“Oh, and Derek,” Hotch says, laying a hand on his shoulder, turning him before he can leave, a genuine smile on his face too, “I am actually happy for you and Spencer.”

Derek grins at that. He really is a lucky, lucky man. “Thanks, Hotch.”

“What was that about?” Spencer asks, his features twisting in curiosity as Derek makes his way across the bullpen to his boyfriend, Hotch and Emily emerging from the same room moments later.

Derek doesn’t answer properly, laughing instead. “You got some good friends, you know that?”

Spencer nods, still looking a little confused, but clearly deciding to let it go as he slings his messenger bag across his body, standing up from his desk. Derek slings an arm around Spencer’s shoulders, leading him towards the exit as his insides twist at the adorable blush that colours Spencer’s cheeks so prettily.

“Derek,” he hisses, “shouldn’t we be leaving separately?”

“I think it’s a little late for that,” he chuckles, looking over his shoulder. Spencer does the same, blushing even fiercer as he spots Hotch and Emily leaning against the railing, overlooking the bullpen with all-knowing looks on their faces.

“Oh my god,” Spencer mumbles, clearly embarrassed, but Derek just laughs again as they leave the bullpen and approach the elevators.

“Come on, pretty boy,” he sighs happily, sliding the arm around his shoulders to rest at his waist, fingertips pressing into the small frame of the boy he’s already falling in love with. “Let’s get you home. That penguin documentary awaits.”

“You’re gonna watch Emperors and Kings with me?” Spencer’s happy exclamation and the delighted expression on his face only warms his heart further, and in that moment he decides that he wants a happy Spencer and another nature documentary within his reach for the rest of his life.

Surprisingly, it’s not as terrifying a thought as it might once have been.

(If Derek thinks the shovel talk from Hotch and Emily is bad, though, it’s nothing compared to the one he gets from Penelope. By the end of the next day, he’s somehow reduced to tears that are both happy and the product of extreme terror, on the receiving end of a ‘baby girl’ ban for keeping it from her for so long. In the end, he decides that it’s probably an alright price to pay for everything beautiful that his life has blossomed into over the last few months.)

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @livrere-blue @hotchseyebrows @jellejareau @reidology @i-like-buttons @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @goobzoop @marsjareau @garcias-bitch @oliverbrnch @im-autistic @anxious-enby @queerminalminds (taglist form)

[thescarletwitchsapprentice]

Sweaters, Snowballs, Cocoa, and Kisses (Wanda Maximoff x ADD!autistic!reader)

*Not my GIF.

Summary: (Y/N) doesn’t like extreme temperature, but Wanda really wants to play in the snow, so do the other Avengers. Along with that, Christmas is coming up. Basically a fluff fic with a small amount of angst.

Request: Not this. I’ve got one, but it’s angsty. I need fluff.

Warnings: Meltdown/shutdown, fluff, a small dash of angst, Christmas, some Hallmark-y sappiness.

Word Count: 2823

Note: Some wintertime fluff in May. Why not? And Pietro and Vision are alive because I say so.

You hate winter.

It’s always so cold and it makes you shiver even thinking about it. All of that cold snow, hypothermia, frostbite, not to mention the slippery ice. You’re so scared you’re gonna fall and break a bone. You’d much rather admire its frosty beauty from within, sipping hot cocoa and wearing comfy pajamas, cuddling up with a loved one, watching old Disney or holiday films.

Your crush, Wanda on the other hand, LOVES winter. And you love her. But shy little ole you hasn’t worked up the courage to talk to her. Every time you try, or even think about trying, you feel the butterflies of love all a-fluttery in your tummy. Your cheeks turn into red roses. (Not literally, of course. That’d be EXTREMELY concerning) You feel yourself stumbling over your words, even in your mind. Not to mention you get weak at the knees. Social skills aren’t exactly your strong suit as it is, so this extra layer is just....it makes you feel embarrassed. 

And no one can blame you. Wanda caught your eye immediately when you first joined the team. She has such a softness about her, even if she seems slightly aloof at times. You’ve heard her playing guitar and singing while passing her room at the compound, and your heart just about stops whenever you do. She has the voice of an angel. Her laugh is made of sunshine and rainbows. Her voice as soft as a marshmallow pillow. So much more inviting than even the beautiful, but biting, winter wind.

Not to mention; Wanda loves wearing fluffy sweaters in December. They always look so soft and warm and.....how you long to just snuggle up against her on a couch by the fire in comfy pajamas and fluffy slippers while watching a cute holiday film or an old Disney film. Maybe even give her a cute little peck on the cheek. But shy little ole you chickens out all the time. 

===============================================

And then one winter day, there are no missions. No training. Nothing.

You’re using your light powers, one of your powers, to decorate the place with Steve and Bucky when Peter bursts in with snow clothes for the whole team.

“Guys!” he exclaims excitedly. “It’s so beautiful outside. We should go out and play!”

As much as you hate the winter, his enthusiasm is contagious. Wanda looks up from her book.

“I love that idea,” she smiles. “Pietro and I used to play in the park whenever it was safe to go out in the winter.”

Her brother zooms inside, startling Peter.

“I heard my name?”

“I was just mentioning how we used to play in that park in Sokovia in the winter,” she says. “Remember? Mama and papa would make sure it was safe before taking us. Even if it was for only a few minutes, it was always so fun.”

“And that one time I hit you square in the face with a snowball?”

“I got your TV night pick after that,” she giggles.

Your mind begins to wander as Wanda and Pietro talk a bit more about winter in Sokovia. You think about just how beautiful, how adorable, how dreamy, how......perfect Wanda is. You’re so distracted that you almost don’t notice Bucky stumbling on the ladder. Luckily Pietro rushes over to stop him from falling. 

“Steve, (Y/N), you two need to be more careful.”

“You’re one to talk about careful, Needy for Speedy,” you joke.

All of a sudden, you hear that cute little giggle. You look to see Wanda smiling at you. Immediately you go weak at the knees and your cheeks are the reddest they’ve ever been. Even your nose is red.

“You’ve got a little something on your face, Rudolph,” “Need for Speedy” jokes back at you, smirking as he sets Bucky down.

“What’s going on?” Nat asks as she enters dressed in casual attire.

“It’s so beautiful outside,” Peter says as he finishes reorganizing the clothing that Pietro startled out of his hands. “I was thinking we should have a snow day! You know? Go outside and play!”

“That sounds kinda cool,” Nat shrugs. “I’m down.”

“Count me in,” Bucky adds.

“I mean, it can’t be colder than the ice I was frozen in,” Steve shrugs.

“I’ll go too,” Pietro agrees.

“I talked to Mr. Stark, Dr. Banner, Clint, and Thor,” Peter tells the rest of you. “And they said they’d be up for it as well. Vision told me he’ll hang back. What about you, (Y/N)?”

“Oh,” you exclaim. “I’m....I’m not a fan of winter.”

“Ah c’mon, kid,” Steve says. “We won’t be out for too long.”

“It’s just....well, I’m sensitive to the really cold and really hot and I’m scared of slipping on the ice,” you admit sheepishly. “It’s okay. I can stay back with Vision.”

“I don’t want you to miss out, though,” Peter tells you. “You’re part of the team. I mean, Vision is too, but I don’t know how he reacts to the snow, so I’m okay with him staying behind if it means he stays safe.”

“When we come back, we could have a movie night and hot cocoa,” Wanda suggests. “One of the best parts of winter is warming up after being out in the cold. If you want, you can hold onto my arm if you’re scared of slipping when we’re walking to the park, (Y/N). And if it gets too cold for you, you can just let me know and I’ll go back to the compound with you.”

You didn’t think your face could glow any redder. You thought wrong. Wanda actually said your name. To you. And she’s offering to help you.

“I, uh....” you stammer. “Wanda, you....you really don’t....you shouldn’t waste....”

“I want to,” she insists kindly. “You seem really sweet.”

Oh Lordy Lordy-Lord....you feel like you’re about to faint. The butterflies are extra fluttery today. Why is an angel like her wasting her time on someone like you? You have no clue. 

“I-I mean, if....if you’re sure....” you stammer on. 

“Of course,” she smiles. “It’s like Peter said. You’re part of the team as well, and I don’t want you to miss out either.”

You nod. 

Maybe a little too much.

“Okay, that’s enough, Bobbly McBobble-Head,” Pietro jokes with a knowing smirk. “Let’s get ready.”

=========================================

Soon enough, you’re all bundled up and on your way to a park just a small walk from the compound. Despite Wanda supporting you, well actually because of Wanda supporting you, you still feel like you’re slipping because you’re so weak at the knees. This leads to you apologizing to her every few seconds.

“You have nothing to apologize for, (Y/N),” she tells you gently.

How is she so patient? How is so sweet? How is she so compassionate and understanding? So many questions like this plague your mind as you slip to the park. When you arrive, everyone else is getting right to playing. Nat, Steve, Pietro, and Bucky are all in an intense snowball fight. Tony and Peter are building a snowman together. Clint and Bruce are sliding down the hill on sleds. 

“I think I’m going to make some snow angels,” Wanda muses.

“But you’re an angel already.”

The phrase somehow slips out of your mouth and into her ear. Her face turns red and she giggles, her nose scrunching up.

“I was right. You are sweet, (Y/N).”

You’re like a snowman in summer, about to melt at any moment. Wanda helps you get onto solid and steady ground before heading off to make snow angels. For several moments, you just stand there. Here you are, out in the cold, because an angel of a woman wants to make sure you’re included in the team. The thought is just.....surreal.

You end up kind of just walking and standing around for a while. You’re extremely worried about how you’re going to react to the snow if you sit in it, let alone lay down in it. You end up kind of just drifting off into a walking daydream; one day, you want to work up the courage to admit your feelings to her. You’re worried about being rejected, but at the same time, you don’t want to lose that chance. There’s always a chance that she might have feelings for you as well. There’s always a chance.

“Yeah,” you say to yourself. “There’s always a cha--”

THWACK!

A stinging burst of cold hits you square in the face and brings you out of your thoughts. You find your vision obscured by snow. Immediately you go into a panic. Your chest tightens up and your breathing becomes shallow and rapid, your heart beating wildly. Tears well up in your eyes. Instinctively you drop to the ground and begin to rock as you hear footsteps rush over.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N),” you hear Bucky exclaim. “I swear I didn’t mean to hit you.”

You wince and make a small squeak as he tries to put his hand on your shoulder. 

I wanna go back, I wanna go back, I wanna go back.

“Back up,” you hear Nat tell them. “Give them some space.”

“Wanna go, wanna go, wanna go,” you repeat as you rock.

Then you remember. 

“And if it gets too cold for you, you can just let me know and I’ll go back to the compound with you.”

“Wanda!” you cry out, your tears almost freezing to your face. “Wanda!”

In moments she’s at your side. 

“It’s going to be okay, (Y/N),” she tells you gently. “It’s going to be okay.”

You finally brush the snow off your face, but the experience has still left you feeling panicky.

“Wanna go, wanna go, wanna go,” you repeat.

“We can go back to the compound,” Wanda assures you. “Come on. I’ll take you back.”

You blink out the snow that remains in your eyes and reach a hand out to Wanda. She gently takes it and helps you up. 

“(Y/N), I-” Bucky begins.

“Bucky, I don’t think this is the time,” Clint says. “They’re clearly overwhelmed.”

Wanda leads you out of the park, trying to make sure you two get back as quickly and safely as possible.

==================================

The two of you arrive and take the elevator. Wanda helps you out of your snow clothes.

“Is there anything else I can do to help?” she asks you.

“Cocoa, cocoa, cocoa,” you repeat as you take off your snowpants.

“I’ll get started on it,” Wanda tells you.

Once the snow clothes are off, you head to your room and throw off your clothes, changing into warm pajamas and fluffy slippers. You impulsively rub your arms to get the heat back in them, and you place a warm wash cloth on your face, the tears still rolling down your face.

You flop onto your bed and let the silence and warmth cover you. It’s not too hot, but it’s definitely not freezing-cold. That’s when the realization hits you. Wanda Maximoff, your crush, walked you back to the compound and is doing what she can to help you through your sensory overload. And now it’s just you and her in the compound.

Well, it’s actually you two and Vision, but he was staying back anyway. 

About half an hour later, there’s a knock on the door.

“(Y/N)? I’ve got your hot cocoa ready.”

It’s Wanda. Your heart is pounding fast and the butterflies have returned. Trying not to get weak at the knees, you wobble over and open the door. There’s Wanda with a mug of hot cocoa and a plate of something. And she’s wearing one of her fluffy sweaters; this one is holiday-red and has a snowflake on the front.

“You okay?” she asks. 

You nod. 

“Y-yeah.”

Your cheeks turn absolutely rose-red.

“Are you sure?” she asks. “It seems like you just get so wobbly around me.”

So she has noticed! 

“I....Wanda, I.....I’m....” you stammer. 

She smiles kindly.

“How about we go to the lounge and talk?”

You nod again, and the two of you head to the lounge, decked out in holiday decor. Wanda sets the hot cocoa and plate, which you now see is full of Christmas cookies, on the table and sits on the couch. You wobble to a spot next to her and sits down. For a few moments, you say nothing. The butterflies are at maximum flutter by now. 

“Just tell her, you blushing idiot!” you think to yourself. “Just tell her that you’re in love with her!”

You gulp.

“W-wanda?” you ask.

“Hm?” she responds curiously.

You try to gather up what to say. 

“Um.....I.....I’m.....you.....with.....love.....in.....” you begin, stumbling. “For a.....been...long time.....in love....I’ve.....with you.”

Wanda smiles kindly.

“I know,” she says matter of factly.

This somehow comes as a shock to you.

“How.....?”

“I’m a telepath.”

You mentally facepalm yourself. Of course! How could you forget?

“I think....no, I’m almost certain that I’m in love with you too,” she replies. “I’ve seen you interacting with the others and you’re just so sweet and shy and adorable.”

The color returns to your face with a blush. 

“You....you really are? Why didn’t you say anything?”

She shrugs. 

“I guess I wanted to hear it be said in your real voice. And I suppose I was a little nervous to approach you.”

“You? Nervous? To approach me?”

Wanda nods. 

“Do you want to cuddle with me?” she asks.

You nod, moving in timidly. Thankfully Wanda lets you take your time and you slowly lean in close until your face grazes her sweater. Your head immediately drops on it, beaming. It’s even softer than it looks. Wanda smiles at you as she offers you a blanket, which you graciously accept. 

“So....are we, like, a thing?” you ask her.

“Do you want to be?” she asks.

You glance away, feeling shy and nod slightly.

“Yeah....I’ve been in love with you for a long time now.”

“Then we’ll be a couple.”

Your heart is beating wildly, all sorts of happy thoughts flying through your heart and your head. You and Wanda cuddle on the couch for a while when something catches your eye. You look to the ceiling, and right above you and Wanda, is a sprig of mistletoe. She notices and looks up.

“Oh!” she exclaims smiling, her face turning red.

You two look at each other, both of your faces rose-red. 

“Oh my.”

You hear Vision’s voice and turn to see him entering with another plate of cookies. 

“I’ve heard that mistletoe is used to ward off witches and demons. Also that lovers are to kiss under the mistletoe.”

“That’s what I’ve heard,” you shrug, trying to stay calm. 

“Steve told me to hang it there,” Vision admits. “I have to wonder if he knew this would happen.”

Wanda giggles again.

“I imagine he knew something would happen.”

She glances to you.

“Do you....want to?”

Can your face get any redder? Apparently. You nod hesitantly, leaning forward, uncertain of how to approach this. After some blushing and contemplation, you decide to just go for it and give her a sweet peck on the lips. You feel fluttery and on Cloud Nine. Wanda leans in and gently places a kiss on your lips, longer than a peck. You can taste a small scent of frosting, almost as sweet as she is. Slowly she pulls back. 

“I love you so much,” she replies softly with a gentle smile.

You turn your face away, but she gently guides it back. 

“No need to hide,” she assures you. “I love to see your beautiful face.”

The two of you look at each other for a while.

“I...I love you even more,” you reply.

“No, I love you more,” she giggles, booping your nose.

It twitches like a little bunny rabbit’s in response. 

“No, I love you more,” you smile, booping hers in return, and she also twitches it like a little bunny rabbit’s nose.

“No, I love you more.”

“No, I love you more.”

“I love you to the ends of the earth.”

“I love you to the moon and back.”

“I love you to the moon and back times one-hundred.”

“I love you to the moon and back times one-thousand!”

“I love you to the moon and back times one-million!”

“I love you to Pluto and back times one-billion!”

“I love you to the ends of the multiverse and beyond!”

This goes on for some time. Sure, it’s sappy, but you love it. You two end up in a fit of giggles and nose-booping before turning on some classic Disney films and cuddling up close. By the time the others return, you and Wanda are falling asleep to The Winnie-the-Pooh Movie with you leaning your head on her sweater and smiling. 

The others may know that you and Wanda are a thing. But how you two became a couple? That’s between you and her. 

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[hargrove-mayfields]

the tags on your football Billy story about autistic kids not being allowed to play sports, gave me the idea of Steve with autism not being allowed on the basketball team and how Billy and maybe Tommy if you want since you write kegboys sometimes would react

It doesn’t take Billy long to notice him, the benchwarmer boy who sits on the sidelines, never getting his shot in a single game, just riding the bench with a smile on his face.

At first he sort of pegs it to mean the kid is just really not good, maybe riding the tails of his daddy’s sportsmanship legacy, but then Billy realizes something, that this kid doesn’t even get to play at practice.

He shows up and he sits there like being excluded is the happiest he’s ever been, and the only time he ever has the ball in his hands at all is if it’s to toss it to one of the boys on the court when it rolls to him.

Despite this though, he has his very own jersey. Number zero. Harrington.

Billy asks Tommy after practice once who this mysterious jersey kid is, and he smiles sort of tight, like maybe Billy shouldn’t have asked him that, and tells him, “I’ll introduce you.”

Tommy walks over to the kid and tells him something that makes him light up, jump to his feet and follow Tommy back over, “Billy, this is my best friend, Steve Harrington.”

Steve just sort of waves, so Billy jumps straight into it. This kid intrigues him and he wants to know more, “There a reason you don’t play, Harrington?”

In response he shrugs his shoulders, hands stuffed in the pockets of his way too big basketball shorts, “I’m not allowed.”

“Why not? You fail some test or something?” Billy tries to ask lightly, not noticing the way Tommy’s face scrunches up before Steve drops a bombshell on him instead, “They don’t let special ed kids on the basketball team.”

And if that’s not bad enough, Tommy then adds, though significantly more bitter than even Steve is, “Or on any team for that matter, whether it’s sports or clubs or debate, you name it. School board denies every last application.”

“Oh.” Billy frowns, totally dumbfounded, his school in California never had any issues with that, “Oh that- that’s bullshit.”

“I know.” They say at the same time, prompting Billy to ask, “They don’t even have like, a separate team?”

“Not enough kids would do it.” Tommy says, and he gets a sharp look from Steve, who corrects him quickly, “Not enough kids could get permission to do it.”

“But that’s such bullshit.” Billy repeats, not very helpfully.

“Nothing we can do about it. We’ve tried everything. Not even momma Harrington could convince the school board, and let me tell you, that woman is scary.”

Steve elbows Tommy for that one, and Tommy laughs softly, throws an arm around his shoulder, but Billy is thinking, biting the corner of his nail in concentration, “Why don’t we start our own team?”

“I don’t know.” Steve’s face scrunches up, and he turns to Tommy, like he doesn’t trust what Billy says, so Billy continues, “No, I’m serious. School says you can’t play for them, so fuck ‘em. There’s courts in the park, I have a ball, and I’m out there half the time watching my little sister anyways. Let’s start our own team.”

Tommy answers for him, “Practice takes up too much time. We’re not gonna be much of a team unless we’re going to be playing at night or in the winter.”

“Then we quit the tigers.” Billy shrugs, like it’s obvious.

Instantly Tommy narrows his eyes, “Very funny, man.”

On the other hand though, Steve looks at him with awe written all over his face, eyes wide and spelling, “You’d really quit for me?”

And Billy, he plays it off like that look doesn’t make his heart melt, claiming, “For you and for Max who’s been talking my ear off about how much she wants to play soccer and whose heart is going to break when she finds out she can’t.”

Convinced, Tommy looks over at Steve, “If you’re in Stevie, I’m in too.”

Steve seems like he’s considering his options, drumming his fingers on the outside of his thigh, occasionally humming softly in thought, and it’s making Billy impatient.

“So?” He asks, to which Steve nods a confirmation to his offer, his hair bouncing with his enthusiasm.

Tommy cracks a crooked smile, holds out a hand for Billy to shake, seal the deal, “You’ve got yourself a team, Hargrove.”

They decide not to give their little team a name, the idea of being called something feels too exclusive, which was the reason they’d all quit the school's team in the first place. Billy had gotten in big trouble when his dad found out he quit for wasting their time and money on basketball, but that was all bullshit anyways, games were only usually a half hour long and were free to get into for the players family, and the school paid for the uniforms.

But that was what he said and what he’d been going to punish Billy for until they found out about the reasoning behind quitting, after which Susan was flattered he cared so much about his little sister, and he got his permission to freely go down to the park and play with the “special” kid.

Neil of course didn’t care about him doing it for Max, he was just concerned with Billy’s public image. Playing ball with the richest family in town's dopey son did nothing but good things for the way their neighbors saw him, so he’d allow it.

A few weeks into their games though, which are mostly just playing HORSE or teaching Steve how to do trickier shots since no coach ever would, Billy has to bring Max along because nobody was going to be home and she wasn’t allowed to be by herself. It’s a dreary day so there aren’t many people around at all, so he decides he’s going to loosen her leash, and walks her over to the playground (that they can see clearly from the courts, he’s not that irresponsible.)

He teasingly offers to push Max on the swings or lift her up to the monkey bars, making her roll her eyes and proudly declare that she’s not a baby anymore, so he chuckles and leaves her be, walking back to the basketball hoops.

Tommy and Steve are just sitting on the old wooden bench just off to the side of the court, waiting for Billy to get back because he’s their little impromptu coach and they can’t start without him, but he notices that they’re sitting awful close together, and between them, Tommy’s hand sits slightly on top of Steve’s, pinky fingers linked together.

Now he knows these two are affectionate, he couldn’t even count how many times Tommy picked Steve up after he made a good shot or ruffled his hair and smiled at him when he messed up, but that was all just friendly affection.

This was different though, he could tell it was from the way Tommy’s eyes snap up and he pulls his hand away, the both of them looking away from each other guiltily.

He feels a little something like jealousy in his chest, or maybe it was just anxiety at the fact that they’d been so obviously holding hands in the public park, but either way, he just kind of freezes up, looking between their two terrified faces until Tommy’s turns angry, standing from the bench so fast the old rusty things creaks loudly and Steve has to cover his ears.

He grabs the front of the baggy jersey Billy wears from his old school's team, the bears, and gets right up in his face, sneering, “You gonna say something, Hargrove?”

And Billy’s not afraid of Tommy, he might be mean, but he’s on his toes to threaten him, and he’s pretty sure they both know Billy would win the fight anyways. He’s not going to fight him though, and he makes that clear, putting his hands up as a clear sign of not going to sock Tommy for yelling at him, “Secrets safe with me, dudes. You go down, I’m going down with you.”

Tommy doesn’t get it though, because he growls, “Right. ‘Cause all that matters is what will happen to your reputation after giving up your precious sport just to hang with a couple of fags, right?”

“Tom.” Steve snaps, but he gets ignored, Billy arguing over him, “Actually, no. You know all that talk about queer kids flocking together without even knowing? That doesn’t come from nothing. I out you, it’s putting a target on my back, and from there it won’t be not long before a little birdie tells the wrong person the right rumor and we’re all dead.”

“Oh.” Tommy says softly, his face falling.

Billy nods sarcastically in response, “Yeah, oh. So let go of my damn shirt before I find a reason to punch you in the face.”

“Can we just play basketball?” Comes a timid request from behind them, so Tommy lets go, wipes his hands on his shorts, and answers him, “‘Course we can, Stevie.”

It doesn’t take long for them to get bored though, none of them are really in the mood to play after that. They play a small game that’s pretty much just Tommy blocking Billy the whole time, but after he shoots the ball they all just let it roll, none of them caring enough to keep the play going. So instead, Tommy offers up his place to hang out there.

It sounds at least better than this, so Billy drops Max off back at home, making her promise not to do anything stupid to get them in trouble until he gets back later that night, and heads straight to Tommy’s like they planned.

The whole drive he’s worrying that they’re gonna pissed at him and beating himself up for not just pretending like he didn’t notice, to the point where he almost just drives right past, but Steve waves at his car from the front window, and he can’t do all this petty angry shit to him.

Tommy’s house is empty for the night, so that means two things, that they’re free to drink as much as they want, (smoking’s a no go though, the smell is too strong and makes Steve upset), and that Steve sits right on Tommy’s lap like it’s nothing.

Which, it is nothing. Billy just told them he was gay too, and now they don’t have to hide from their best friend, so it’s common sense that they wouldn’t.

But Billy, well, he wouldn’t say he’s jealous watching the two of them together, it just makes his chest burn every time they touch or laugh at some joke and whisper amongst themselves like he isn’t even there, or when Steve kisses Tommy’s cheek.

Yeah no, there’s no pretending, Billy is totally jealous. He’s had a thing for Tommy since like, day one of practice when he bounced a basketball back in his own face trying to show off, and Steve for just as long, yearning to know more about the pretty faced mystery kid who turned out to be a total sweetheart and won him over. It’s tearing him to shreds watching them just being happy together without being a part of that.

He wonders if these small town boys have ever even heard of having more than one partner other than like, mormons, and if they haven’t, how is he supposed to bring it up without sounding like a total weirdo. Maybe he could claim that he was just trying not to be left out since they were probably the only queer kids in Hawkins. Or maybe not and Tommy would try to kick his ass again for even trying.

He doesn’t have to do much wondering though, because as pointedly as he’s trying to ignore them, Steve keeps getting closer to Billy on the couch until he’s sitting in his lap, and Billy has to ask, blue eyes going a little wide, cheeks flushing red in a way that had nothing to do with the sunburn he’d gotten at the park earlier, “What’re you doing Steve?”

“You included me. Now I’m including you.” Steve hums and leans his head on Billy’s shoulder, holding eye contact with Tommy.

To say that Billy is flustered and doesn’t know what to do with himself is more than an understatement. He'd like to say he’s not the most inexperienced one here, but it’s not looking good, because he’s flushed as red as a tomato, and the only thing he can think to say is just, “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Tommy says and smiles that big goofy smile of his, a playful imitation of their little argument from before, “And I’d much rather you kiss me than punch me.”

[kirby-the-gorb]

reply roundup!

we’re gonna try a new less structured/more casual format. (and then immediately forget about it for a month cuz a hundred other things needed my extremely limited energy...........)

I did read a lot of the tags and stuff and I still love getting to see them all! but I can only write and format so much these days :’(

on [the last roundup] @northeasternwind said: SJHDFKSDHFKJSDH THERE IT IS!!! YOU DID IT!!! YOU'RE FIVE STEPS AHEAD

lol I gotchu

on [wallpaper] @ceylonsilvergirl said: this is how I need to be living my life instead of whatever insanity is happening in reality. can things just be chill for 30 seconds!? I’m tryna sit down on this beanbag chair!!

right??? honestly it’s been A Fuckin Year dude, at least we can commiserate together lol

@softnoobgirl asked: April is atusim awareness/acceptance month and it can be really hard for atustic people because of all the atusim speaks and light it up blue stuff that basically tells us "ya we want you dead." As an atustic kirby fan it would make me super happy if you would draw kirby holding up a sigh with a blue puzzle peice crossed out and text that says "don't light it up blue,  go red instead.

The world blue being in blue and the world red being in red. It would mean the world to me to see you support atustic people and not the organizations against us.

I think that would be a neat idea! (I’m actually autistic myself as well, so I’m like. totally with you on this. that does not guarantee I will remember come april, but I can at least tell you with confidence that it’s a good idea! it is totally okay to remind me of your idea with another ask in late march or april if you would like to.)

@autistic-sack-of-friends asked: the Kirby. it's gorby :> good job on the gorb!!!

thank you!!

@a-pansexual-she-them asked: Eats your art/pos

:0 omg thanks!

on [surprise nap] @ceylonsilvergirl said: If your body made you nap that means you needed a nap. Sorry to hear about the wonky sleep schedule tonight tho

lol I promise you falling asleep for an hour does not at all affect how likely I am to fall asleep again later. unfortunately.

@pourpresky asked: i’ve told you this before but i don’t know if you got my previous asks. i love this acc so much i love your drawings a lot. it brings me happiness it gives me serotonin i hope that you’re doing well everyday

aww thank you! I do remember you sending me a nice ask like this at least once before, although maybe my reply got lost in the clutter of the roundups >n< (not that this is any less cluttered...)

on [lights] @ceylonsilvergirl said: this is Christmas, but it’s also disco. and Kirby realizing he entered a skating rink. or a karaoke bar. yesterday someone asked me if Kirby was a girl or a boy, and I just had to be like “does it matter? will it change anything?’’ asker was a teenage boy so I don’t think he quite got it, but hopefully he’ll think about it

sometimes the most significant thing we can do is just plant an idea and give it time to grow. and kirby would be delighted to go to a rollerskating rink. do you think he’s really graceful or taking full advantage of his squishy marshmallow frame to pad his falls lol (also re: [wrapping paper opinions], I don’t really do a lot of birthday gifts or anything anyway but someday when we have space I want a few different rolls of solid color kraft paper so I can hand-design new paper every year because I am Craft Feral)

on [wrists] @northeasternwind said: I feel like you don't need this advice but please do the stretchies. be like Kirby's very stretchy body

my connective tissue is all fucked so my joints don’t really work the way they’re supposed to lol but as soon as I stopped working every waking hour my wrist stopped hurting overnight like, instantly, so *thumbs up* (thank you for your concern tho <3 )

on [struggle] @macro-microcosm said: good job making it through the year! happy you're still here. I hope things get better.

I was like, kinda surprised by how touched I was when I first saw this one. thanks for that.

I also think it’s so cute how every time I post a sleeping kirby so many people reblog it with some variation of either “me” or “god I wish that was me”

on [triumph] @chaosinanutshell said: YA KIRBO!!! Im almost done with all my assessments this week. then this thursday Im finally gonna have a break. IM ALMOST THERE!! Good job with all u did :DD

I took so long to write this that you already made it by now! I hope you get to do so many fun restorative things with your break! (I am reading lots of manga, which is restorative for me -u- )

on [love] @ceylonsilvergirl said: there are those times when you feel love so profoundly that it completely knocks you over. it’s really what’s keeping me going lately. I’m not getting paid, I’m working my ass off, but then someone says “I see you. I appreciate you. you’re doing a good job’’

honestly support is in all the little things. big gestures are great and all but they aren’t what keeps things going, it’s stuff like acknowledging the hard work you’ve done or making sure the hand soap is always full. Love Is Stored In The Small Everyday Kindness.

[i-used-to-be-a-spy]

Adrian Chase Childhood

Fic about Adrian in school while being Autistic , it is often sad fair warning

Chapter 1: Speech Therapy

A door opens into a second grade classroom.

“Adrian Chase?” the woman entering the classroom calls out.

A little boy with dark curls in the very back row slinks further down into his seat as if that can hide him from his name.

His second grade teacher calls out then, “Adrian Chase? Please follow Miss Fritz.”

The little boy gets up then, walking past all the other students sitting at their small desks. He feels like all fifteen sets of eyes must be on his as he walks to the front of the classroom to stand before Miss Fritz. His hands clench in his pant pockets.

Miss Fritz places a hand on his shoulder and guides him out the door. “I’m taking you to my classroom for some special lessons sweetheart,” she says gently. 

They pick up another boy and a girl on their way to a tiny classroom.

Miss Fritz waves for the children to sit at a tiny brightly colored plastic table.

She sits in a normal chair next to the table. “I brought you all here because you need a bit more help with your reading,” she says. “Together, we’re gonna help you read more smoothly.”

I can read just fine Adrian pouts inwardly. He’s been reading books past the second grade level already. 

Miss Fritz hands them each a tiny booklet that’s pages stapled together. There’s black line drawings and a title on the cover. “Here is the first book we are going to read together. Adrian is going to start by reading the first page, then Zoe can read the second, and Landon can read the third. Then it will be Adrian’s turn and we’ll go around the table again. Please follow along if you’re not the one reading out loud. Adrian, you may begin.”

Adrian opens the booklet, thinking I’ve got this! He starts reading but then starts to stumble over pronouncing the words. Miss Fritz just smiles down at him patiently, giving him the space to try out the shape of words new to his mouth although not to his brain. 

As Zoe and Landon take their turns after, Adrian squirms in his seat. He can read the words so much faster in his head he thinks. But he’s supposed to wait patiently and he does as he’s told.

For the next year, Adrian is taken out of the classroom for an hour every morning to work on his speech with Miss Fritz and the other speech therapy kids. 

They work on hard words with r’s in them. How to sound out words. Taking breaths inbetween sentences. Using their fingers to help them keep their place on the page if they have to. 

Adrian was highly motivated by the star system that rewarded students with candy if they read and colored the little books at home the night before 7 days in a row, so seven stars on the name chart. On Fridays, he always got his sucker and would enjoy it before being taken back into class for math. It almost made up for the embarrassment of needing extra help at school and all the other students knowing it. But not quite. 

Chapter 2: Principal’s Office

Adrian sits at his desk, trying to remember how to do the math problem but he just can’t seem to recall it. He has trouble recalling information unless he spends several minutes trying to memorize something. 

His chest tightens with the frustration and feelings of failure and he grips the pencil hard, the lead digging into the half sheet of math problems on the desk before him. 

Adrian tries to hold back the tears and he can feel the dam threatening to spill behind his glasses. There’s finally too many tears and they start to run down his face. His nose starts to run and he sniffles because he doesn’t want to get up to use a kleenex and have everyone see him crying. Head bowed over his desk, Adrian hides behind his bangs.

Despite his best efforts to be small and unnoticeable the teacher does eventually notice a student leaning over a desk without a pencil moving though and comes over to discover what’s wrong.

Adrian has gone non-verbal though and his face is red from anger at himself for being a stupid boy who can’t understand third grade math and for crying at school. 

The teacher interprets him as insolent and instructs him to go to the principal’s office and complete his homework there at the desk that sits outside the office where the school principal does his work. 

Unable to communicate how unfair that feels, Adrian grabs his stuff and does as the teacher says. Crying the whole way through the empty hallway, he stops at the bathroom to wipe away his tears and blow his nose. 

He sits at the desk and tries to work on the math some more but gives up eventually and just sits there. Eventually, the principal comes out and says the teacher called for him to return to the classroom. 

Chapter 3: Masking

During independent reading time, Adrian pulls out the library book he had in his desk and starts reading. As he reads silently, Adrian mimics the faces of the characters. Whenever they are said to smile, he smiles and tries to smile in the way the author describes. When they nod, he nods. When they scrunch up their noses, he scrunches up his little nose. Or wrinkles his brows. Or tries and fails to raise one eyebrow in surprise. Opens his mouth in a gasp in surprise, or widens his eyes.

Adrian gets really into the story, it’s like he can imagine himself as the characters better when imitating them. And the author does a good job of describing the actions of the characters and their inner dialogue. 

Adrian is pulled out of the story he’s enjoying when he starts to hear stifled giggling. Adrian looks up from the book his nose is in to see everyone in the classroom is looking at him. They look away again, giggling and covering their mouths. 

Adrian’s face burns as he wonders why everyone was watching him. He sets to reading again, with the book covering more of his face, but doesn’t do the facial expressions anymore.

One of his friends later tells him that everyone was watching the funny expressions Adrian was making because it was so entertaining. Adrian doesn’t know how he feels about this and vows internally to stop doing that habit. He’ll have to practice human expression only at home. 

During computer time, Adrian sits next to Parker.

“You’re looking up sharks?” he asks peering over at the other screen. 

“Yeah, they’re my favorite animal! They’re so awesome with their teeth and sandpaper skin and ability to smell blood in the water!” Parker shares excitedly.

“Dude, that’s so cool. I love predators!” Adrian smiles at the other boy feeling like they are sharing a bonding moment. “I’m doing my report on cheetah’s because they’re the fastest animal on earth and are cool predators too!”

The boys chat while they each use the internet to find sources for their one page research paper to share with the class.

That night, Adrian goes into his animal book collection in his room that his dad had lovingly gifted to him over the years for birthdays, and selects out some books on sharks. He spends his free time reading all about sharks so he can talk to Parker about them. 

When he thinks of Parker, Adrian feels a warmth spread throughout his little body, like a fizzy feeling. He’s so excited to talk about sharks with Parker at school during recess the next day.

Chapter 4: Highschool

Adrian walks the hallways alone, going from class to class. It’s senior year and he has not a single friend. Sure he sits with two other losers at lunch but they only talk minimally and it’s not like they’re bffs or anything. 

He sits down in physics and takes out his notebook, pencil, and a comic. I hope Mr. Ur doesn’t talk too fast today, he thinks. Adrian learns best when he can write down each step for something, whether it's a concept with lots of points or a math problem to help him understand how they interconnect. His long term memory isn’t great either so he needs those notes to review later. But so many teachers rush through the 40 minute lectures they have time for. 

Waiting for the bell, Adrian sticks his nose in a comic book. Adrian is happy as long as he can read or draw or move. Since he’s stuck sitting in hard metal desks all day at least he can read inbetween the bells.

His comic book is ripped out of his hands. “You read Nightwing? That’s so fucking gaay,” says a blond haired jock from the football team.

“What?” Adrian asks, confused. He doesn’t see how reading a comic book could make him gay. Lots of boys read comics!

“The only people who read Nightwing comics are girls and gaaays.” 

“Well obviously not because I’m reading it,” Adrian states matter of factly thinking that will be the end of it. He takes his comic back from the boy and starts reading it again.

“Well I heard you used to follow around that Chris guy. Everyone knows you’re gay for him.”

Adrian rushes up from his seat and swings his fist across his desk. SMACK. His fist makes contact with the other boy’s nose. It starts gushing red all over his t-shirt and down onto the white tiled floors. 

“ADRIAN CHASE!” shouts Mr. Ur when he steps into the classroom with the last ring of the bell. “You will go to the principal’s office with me right this instant! And you, Seth come too, you need to see the nurse.”

“But..” Adrian tries to get words out but he can just feel a meltdown coming on with the stress of a teacher being mad at him. Teachers love Adrian, he always obeys the rules and is quiet. 

“NOW.” 

Adrian’s head droops and he meekly follows his teacher and Seth out the classroom door. They leave the shocked class in silence.

Seth looks over at Adrian from the other side of 6 foot Mr. Ur and smiles because he knows he’s won.

Adrian looks away and counts the tiled bricks as they walk to the principal’s office. 56, 57, 58…

Seth goes to the nurse’s and Adrian and Mr. Ur walk into the principal’s office. 

Adrian has gone non-verbal by this point and holds back his tears because he knows by now that boys who cry don’t get respect. They get ridiculed.

Mr. Ur goes over what he saw while Adrian sits silently in his chair, hands under his thighs to keep them still. 

Mr. Walt closes Adrian’s school file and looks over at Adrian. “This is the first time you’ve ever caused trouble in this school, young man and graduation isn’t that far away. I think if you apologize to Seth we can keep this to ourselves eh? Don’t even need to get the parents involved. Boys will be boys.”

Adrian looks up. He finds his voice again. “But he deserved it! I won’t apologize!” Anyone who is homophobic deserves to be punched in the face he thinks, his father’s face flashing in his mind.

“Adrian!” says Mr. Ur who has always been patient with Adrian’s many questions about how to get to certain physical formulas. But now seems out of patience for this seemingly new side to the boy.

But Mr. Walt just says, “You’re right. It’s not fair. And I don’t know if he deserved it, but that boy has a physical complaint against you. He said, he said, means words don’t count Adrian. But you hit someone and you have to take responsibility for that. Graduation is only a few months away and I want my graduate class numbers to remain up. So you apologize to that boy whose nose you made bleed, and you actually win, because you got away with it, get it? You need to graduate highschool son, as well as into the real world. You can’t go around punching people.”

Adrian sits back and ponders this. He does want to graduate and if he doesn’t have to mean the words.. “What do I say?”

Mr. Ur walks out to talk to Seth, and Mr. Walt coaches Adrian on what to say to Seth.

When the jock comes in with an ice pack to his nose, Adrian stands up and says somewhat monotonely, “I’m very sorry I hit you, Seth.”

“It’s a’right,” Seth gets out, looking at Mr. Ur. 

“Now shake it out boys,” instructs Mr. Walt waving one hand.

Adrian reaches out his hand to Seth and whispers “I’m sorry I didn’t break your nose.” He smiles and steps back. Seth glowers but the adults clearly didn’t hear Adrian’s whisper and there’s nothing he can do about it. 

Adrian is told to go back to the classroom so he does, not taking any detours. When he sits back down at his desk, the first thing he does is open up the Nightwing comic back to his page. He wiggles to get more comfortable, albeit only slightly, in the hard metal chair, and sets to reading as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened. 

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 4: Anxceit

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 4: There is a trail of color only you can see that marks out where your soulmate has been.

Content warning: parental death from heart attack (none of the sides), homophobia, religious themes regarding said homophobia, concert, minor sensory overload (Virgil is technically autistic but it’s not explicit).

Word count: 3.3k

The last thing Janus Natter had ever wanted to do was return to his hometown. 

It only held bad memories that stemmed from living in a small town, of homophobia and school bullies and dirty looks from neighbours. Granted, he’d never actually been kicked out of his home after coming out, but word spread like a wildfire and the people in his neighborhood weren’t the most open minded. His mom didn’t talk to him; she blamed herself, and there were all too many nights he walked past her room and heard her praying and crying for the repentance of her baby boy.

So the moment he turned eighteen, he was out of there. Waved goodbye to the woman who stiffened every time he tried to hug her and moved halfway across the country, starting a new life for himself in a rundown apartment and a minimum wage intern job and not regretting it for a second. Everything seemed better for a while. A promotion followed a couple years after, and his apartment was upgraded to one that actually had a separate kitchen and dining room so he wasn’t eating on the counter anymore. Until he got a call from one of his aunts at three am, four days after Christmas.

Obviously, he cried when his mom died. He broke down as soon as he hung up the phone, sitting on the edge of his bed and letting the news slowly integrate into his system. Sure, they hadn’t had the best relationship, but she’d been a great mom up until he admitted the truth that drove a wedge between them. And he’d never really blamed her, knowing his own internal homophobia would only be heightened in her. But it still hurt that she hadn’t reached out whatsoever when she was put into the hospital after the first heart attack. Maybe he would have been there when the second one hit and been able to save her. Or at least say goodbye.

The funeral was rough. None of his family bothered to talk to him, and the one little cousin that ran up to give him a hug was swiftly pulled away. Not like he was expecting much else, but c’mon. It’s not infectious. At least no one commented on him crying again. 

He was on the first flight back out, and after a couple days off work to recenter himself, things seemed to back to normal. It wasn’t as if any part of his daily routine was disturbed. He wasn’t missing any motherly catch up calls, no little packages, no life advice, that he’d never gotten before, so it was almost easy to pretend that nothing had changed. Until he got another call. 

This time it was his uncle, calling in the middle of his work day, to tell him that he needed to come back home and clear out his mom’s house. He was reluctant at first. Why couldn’t someone else do it? What was so important that he had to do it? But the family seemed determined to distance themselves from the house as much as possible, and when his uncle insisted that “we’re all still in mourning, Janus,” as if to imply he wasn’t upset at the death of his own mother, he hung up the phone with a curt agreement to come back as soon as possible. He later got a text that stated the house was going to be put on the market in the coming week, so he needed to get there soon. 

That’s what led to him exiting a cab three days later in front of his childhood home, suitcase in hand, with a disgruntled expression. The house was much less threatening than it had always seemed when he lived there, unassuming and indistinguishable from the other houses on the block, but the memories of lonely nights of crying himself to sleep and craving a hug from his mother were at the forefront of his mind. You’re never going to get another hug from her. He quickly snapped out of it before the tears could rise, thanking the cab driver and walking up to the front door. 

His mother had taken his key when he left, claiming it was to give to a neighbour to water her flowers when she went on a cruise or something equally far fetched, but Janus figured she just wouldn’t want to be surprised by him visiting. This was, afterall, the first time she’d been free from his disappointing presence in years. Luckily, they’d always kept a spare under the plant by the door, now wilted and crusty and dropping leaves when he leaned it over, hand slapping the concrete underneath.

Nothing.

He picked it up off the ground entirely, sweeping the ground directly under it and then scanning the surrounding area with growing irritation. Had someone taken it after the funeral? How the hell did they expect him to get into the house? Oh yeah, come clean the house but we’re gonna take the key! Fuckers. 

A loud crash from behind the door startled him enough to drop the plant, the ceramic pot smashing on the stairs. Whoops. Another sound from inside, something that sounded like a chair scraping on the tiled kitchen floor, and Janus realized with mounting horror that the front door was open a crack. His family had all claimed to not be able to even come near the place, so… Fantastic. Someone had broken into a death house and he was going to have to deal with it. 

The wise choice would have been to call the police. 

So Janus pushed the door open and walked in, ignoring the sudden flurry of memories in favor of following the source of the noise. 

“Hello?” Yeah, smart, Janus, that always works in the horror movies!

Another scrape in the steadily approaching kitchen, accompanied by muffled swearing. As an almost last thought, Janus picked up the first small object he could feel on the entry table, acknowledging its heft and hoping it would be a suitable weapon without taking his eyes from the hall. Here goes nothing.

Then, in a move to top all stupidity, he turned into the room in a whirl, hoisting the weapon above his head, ready to beat down on whoever was rifling through his dead mother’s drawers. Only to freeze.

“Remus?”

“Janus, what the fuck!” The statement was said with a surprising amount of glee. Remus was the only person he knew who could turn swears into something joyful. 

Janus turned his gaze to the floor and the chair Remus was standing on, surrounded by a pile of glass shards. It looked to be the remnants of the entire glass collection, if the amount was anything to go by. Remus gave another shuffle of his chair, the loud shriek sounding again, as he tried to scooch closer without stepping on the shards in his bare feet.

“Why are you holding a banana?” 

It took him a solid second to process Remus’ question before he looked down at his own hand, his fingers curled around the metal banana from the decorative fruit bowl in the entry. 

“No reason. Why are you in my house, destroying my dinnerware?”

“Help me not step in glass and I’ll tell you.”

Finding a broom was easy; it was still in the same place it always had been before he left. Cleaning the glass took longer, what with Remus’ flurry of questions and Janus’ focus between answering him, sweeping, and not whacking Remus on the head with the broom handle. Apparently it didn’t take long for him to become annoying again.

Still, the grinning man had been the one and only reason he’d had trouble saying goodbye to the town, the only person who still gladly befriended him after coming out. He hated to admit how much he’d missed him.   

When the floor was clear, Remus hesitantly stepped down off the chair, wiggling his toes on the ground.

“Why did you take your shoes off when you came in? It’s not like anyone’s gonna be pissed if you track mud in anymore.”

“I didn’t wear any.”

“Of course you didn’t.”

Remus shared a softer look with him, the manic smile drooping, “Hey, I’m sorry about your mom. That’s rough.”

“Yeah,” Was Janus’ incredibly eloquent response. He shook his head, and Remus accepted the subject change with no questions, “So why are you here?”

“Well, I heard you were coming to clear the place out eventually, so I thought I’d get here early and start. Help you out.”

“And…”

“... And snoop around a little bit.”

“There it is.”

“Not like, bad stuff! Just… I don’t know. Deep, dark, family secrets.”

Janus sighed, taking in the kitchen for the first time since entering. “The biggest secret this family tries to hide is me.”

“Dark.”

“Mmhm.” He gasped as two arms suddenly wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him into the most physical contact he’d had in… years.

“Welcome back, Natter.”

“Yeah, well,” He cleared his throat of voice cracks before continuing, “I only got two days off work. So I’m not staying long. I somehow need to completely clear this place out in 48 hours,” He ran a hand down his face, pulling away from the hug reluctantly, “You wouldn’t actually be interested in helping, would you?”

It was more of a statement than a question, but Remus ignored it completely. “You’re only here two days? Inconceivable!”

“You’ve been watching Princess Bride again.”

“We gotta hang out!” The pleading expression on Remus’ face was almost enough to sell him on the idea.

“Weren’t you listening? I literally don’t have the time.”

“I’m going to a concert tonight in Brookton. Come with me!” Remus continued as if he hadn’t spoken, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Just one night, Jan. Pleeeease? I’ll even come here and help you the rest of the time.”

With an affectionate snort, he shook his head, “As fun as that sounds, I’m broke.”

“I can get you in.”

“You’re not paying for me.”

“Who said anything about paying?”

Janus raised an eyebrow, though it was more like how a parent would scold a child than surprise. They’d always gotten into trouble together as kids, and this was just… a level up, in a way. Not that he condoned it.

“I know one of the security guards. He’s one of my hookups, and he happens to owe me a favor or two.”

  Wait. “You’re gay?”

“Shit, I didn’t tell you?!” Remus shrieked, grabbing Janus’ hand and dragging him to the front door, key waving in his face, “I’ll tell you all about it on the way. C’mon, it’s an hour drive.”

Well, looks like he didn’t have a say in it. And he’d be lying if he claimed he hadn’t missed hanging out with his old best friend… or just a friend at all, really.

“Fine, but you’re stopping by your place to grab shoes!”

-----------------------------------------------------

It wasn’t a small venue by any means. It wasn’t Beyonce big, but enough to know that if he lost track of Remus, he’d be fucked. In his rush out the door so soon after a morning of traveling, he’d forgotten his charger and his phone was conveniently dead. Janus kept a careful eye on Remus, following the bob of his neon green and black jacket through the crowd and only distantly wondering what band they were actually about to see. The gremlin kept pushing through, ignoring the annoyed shouts of people he shoved, leaving Janus to hastily apologize each time as he followed in his wake.

When Remus slowed just for a moment, stretching on his tiptoes to find a good spot over the sea of heads, Janus lunged forward and grabbed his sleeve. The taller man raised an eyebrow.

“As fun as it would be to get lost, I’m not in the mood.”

“Ah,” Remus’ eyes settled on a spot near the stage, one that Janus couldn’t see being a head shorter than him, “Good timing. Hang on tight.”

And hang on he did, because Remus fully embodied the physicality of a snow plow and plunged back into the crowd with new ferocity. Janus just closed his eyes and blindly let himself be led, letting the bubbling breathiness of a laugh escape his mouth. It had been too long since he’d just been able to have fun like this, without the threat of work and bills in his peripheral. The chatter was deafening in the best way possible, drowning out his worried thoughts, and the flashing lights that were still visible through his closed eyelids was invigorating. The promise for more elated him. 

When Remus finally stopped, Janus didn’t get the memo on time and ran into his back full force. He grunted and opened his eyes, focused on his throbbing nose, before realizing how close to the stage they really were. The taller man was staring down at him, grinning maniacally, seemingly impressed with their placement as well. 

Then a flash to the side caught his attention, and his throat went dry.

“Remus, look me in the eye and tell me you see that.”

His eyebrows scrunched in confusion before he followed Janus’ line of sight, seeing nothing but the dense crowd. “See what?”

“The light, the light trail…” Janus inhaled sharply through his nose, grip on the other’s sleeve tightening, “It’s my soulmate. He’s here somewhere.”

“Your soulmate? Seriously?”

“Yeah, I…”

“Well, fuck! You’re welcome, eh, Natter? I told you you should have come!” He gave Janus’ arm a light punch, smile widening. “Go find him!”

Janus seemed hesitant, eyes flickering between Remus and the deep purple light trail, weaving between the people and heading towards the back of the venue. “How will I find you again after?”

“That’s a problem for future you. Go, you idiot!”

“Okay, okay! I’m going! Just don’t leave without me!”

He was off before he could hear Remus’ answer, ducking under raised arms and trying his hardest to follow the quickly dissolving trail. Now that he had his eye on it, it had decided that it was time to disappear, and he was quickly losing sight of it. 

No, scratch that, it was definitely getting brighter now. And more concrete around the edges, instead of fading out. Was he close? He weaved past another small group of people, eyes following the purple line until-

There.

Holy shit.

He was stunning, that was the first thing Janus noticed. The purple trail stopped at him, covering him with a faint lilac aura before fading completely, content with it’s work. At first he thought the slight tint to the other’s hair was left over from the soulmark, before the lights switched and he realized, no, his hair was dyed purple. The most eye catching thing, though, besides his makeup, was the bulky pair of… were those headphones on his ears? At a concert? Granted, it hadn’t started yet, but still.

Apparently he was standing in one place for too long amongst the constantly moving hoard of people, and his stillness got the attention of the boy in front of him. He gasped sharply when they made eye contact, shocked from what Janus assumed to be the soulmark that probably surrounded him. And then he started hyperventilating. Bad.

“Shit! Okay, hey, calm down, okay? It’s fine-”

He was cut off by a loud riff of an electric guitar, almost immediately drowned out by the screaming fans that surged forward like a tidal wave. The boy in front of him curled in on himself, hands pressing into the headphones around his ears in an attempt to drown out the noise. Despite his more cautionary side, Janus reached forward and took his arm, guiding him gently towards the door.

“Let’s go outside and talk, alright?”

Maybe following a stranger outside alone wasn’t the smartest idea but… Virgil had seen the soul mark, a gentle yellow glow around this man that quickly dissipated, leaving behind a man sharing an equally shocked look on his face. So that had to mean he wasn’t totally bad, right? Either he was his soulmate or some kind of guardian angel, and neither of those were necessarily bad options. 

As soon as they stepped outside the main arena, it was as if the tight band around Virgil’s chest loosened. Not gone completely, but enough that he could catch his breath. He reached up and pulled his ear defenders off his head, relieved that the quiet was enough that he didn’t need them anymore. They were definitely a life saver, but sometimes the way they muffled noise was indescribably uncomfortable as well.

The man noticed his immediate relief, letting go of his guiding arm and slowing his pace so Virgil could walk beside him. 

“I’m Janus.” 

“Virgil.”

In a blur, they ended up outside the venue, sitting on the curb directly outside the main doors. Virgil was fiddling with his ear muffs, eyes trained on the inky darkness surrounding them. Besides the dull resounding of the bass echoing from inside and steady stream of traffic just out of their view, it was reasonably quiet.

“So, you live in Brookton?” Janus finally broke the comfortable silence, leaning back on his hands.

“Yeah. Not for long, though.”

“Oh?”

“Planning to get out soon. Don’t know where, don’t know how. But I’m not much of a ‘small town’ guy.”

“Brookton counts as a small town?”

Virgil hummed, finally placing the head gear down beside him and closing his eyes, breathing in the smell of fast food from the variety of food trucks around the area. It was a strange cacophony of oil and salt, oddly enticing even if just the scent was enough for his skin to break out. 

“What about you? From around here?”

“Sort of?” He explained his story in as few words as possible, flying over his mom’s general unacceptance and her death, and the fact that he had to clean out her house in two days. “Less than that now, I guess. One and a half. It’s gonna be hell.” His head fell into his hands, fingers rubbing at the temples as if to soothe the headache he was expecting.

Virgil was a good listener, nodding along to the right parts and avoiding those stupid sympathetic looks he was so tired of. It was a nice relief to actually feel listened to, not pitied. 

“My parents are kind of similar. It doesn’t feel like I have much to complain about, though, because… I mean, they didn’t kick me out. Don’t openly hate on me. But it still sucks. They don’t even acknowledge me half the time.”

“Exactly! And then you see people who have it worse, and it makes you feel like a piece of shit for feeling upset!”

“Good match, universe.” Virgil flopped onto his back, purple hair splayed out on the concrete. “It’s the subtle homophobia for me.”

“Ah, you’re a ‘meme person’.”

“Sucks for you, you’re stuck with me now.”

“I’ll manage,” Janus joined him on the ground, suddenly disgusted that he was still in the same outfit that he’d flown in today. He hated the smell of plane, and he must reek of it. But Virgil didn’t seem to mind his general disheveled appearance as he made an abstract comment about the moon being full today, and how that generally meant bad things. Janus made the mistake of asking him what he meant, which turned into a full blown lecture on mythology and cryptids, one that Virgil didn’t have the capability to control. It made him smile though, seeing the emo so utterly delighted to explain it, and he realized with a start that he was going to get to enjoy this man for the rest of his life. Two people who could talk, matched with a person who loved to listen equally as much. Virgil had been right. Good match, universe.

[candied-peach]

ao3: “paint it red” rating: T warnings: autistic remus, autistic logan, sympathetic deceit, sympathetic remus, anxceitmus genre: fluff description: Virgil paints everyone’s nails. (for anon prompt:  "Imagine your virgil who paints nails fic (I think it was anxceit) but virgil going around painting everyone's nails red to support an autistic side (which is up to you)")

"Remus," Virgil says, half-laughing as he carries his nail polish kit into the kitchen. "You have to sit down if you want me to paint your nails." His boyfriend looks up, red spreading across his cheeks, as he plops obediently into a kitchen chair. Deceit's already pulled up a chair, gloves neatly folded in his lap. His hands are demurely clasped, and Virgil can tell he's nervous about showing the scales dotted across his skin.

"We're gonna paint 'em red, right?" Remus asks, dragging Virgil's attention back to him. "Red like blood splattered on the road after an accident?"

"Yes," Virgil assures him. "No blue, no puzzle pieces, just red and anything else you want to add."

"A knife!" Remus says brightly. Virgil blinks.

"Why a knife?" He asks. Remus grins, his teeth looking pointier than ever.

"Virgil, love, are you sure you want that answer?" Deceit asks. Virgil laughs, his shoulders jerking in a lopsided shrug.

"Does it involve violence against supporters of Autism Speaks?" Virgil asks. Remus nods eagerly. Virgil ponders for a moment. "Eh, sure, I can try to draw a knife on one of your nails," he decides.

"Did someone say nail painting?" Roman's voice drifts into the kitchen, seconds before the rest of him appears.

"I'm painting Remus's and Dee's nails red for autism acceptance," Virgil explains. "You want in?"

"Do I!" Roman exclaims. "I'm sure the others would like it, as well."

"Even Logan?" Virgil asks skeptically. Roman nods.

"Nail polish isn't a bad texture," he says. "And the smell goes away pretty fast. I'll be right back." He clatters up the stairs, leaving the kitchen in relative peace.

"Well, I'll get started with you," Virgil tells Remus. "Let me see your nails, babe." Remus obediently splays both hands on the table. His nails are slightly ragged, but still more than adequate for Virgil's purpose.

"Creme polish or holographic?" He asks, holding up two bottles. Remus chose holographic without hesitation, a decision Virgil thought would be repeated, judging by the appreciative glances Deceit kept flicking his way.

"Try to stay still," he warns Remus. "You can jiggle your legs if you need to, but try to keep your hands still, so I can paint them. Is that okay?"

"Yeah!" Remus says. Virgil can already feel his right leg bouncing but true to his words, his hands remain steady as Virgil begins to apply the first coat. He's finished one hand and is working on the other by the time Roman enters the kitchen again, Patton and Logan in tow. Patton keeps bouncing on his toes, playing with his cardigan.

"Oooh, pretty!" Patton exclaims. "It's all glittery!"

"It's holographic," Virgil says absently. "Do you all want your nails painted red, too? It's for autism acceptance." A chorus of yeses answer him. He smiles as he finishes the last nail, blowing lightly on it.

"Thanks to the mind palace, they're already dry," he says. "So I can draw the knife now."

"Knife?" Patton questions, sounding alarmed. Virgil laughs.

"Chill, Pop Star," he says. "It's just some nail art." He chooses Remus's thumbnail, since it has the greatest surface area, and manages a silver knife, only slightly lopsided. Remus peers down at it and grins, happy flapping his hands in the air.

"I love it!" He squeals. Virgil beams, looking around the slightly crowded kitchen. He also notices that Logan has swapped his usual tie for a red striped one. When Logan notices his gaze upon him, a faint blush climbs up his neck.

"Good," Virgil says. "Now, who's next?"

tag list: @k9cat @paravigilant-virgil @croftergamer @airiervessel @bexxbeauty @yalltookmyurlideas @ambersky0319 @ihateitwhenyourejustvague @did-he-just-hiss-at-me @matthindavick @killjoy-3000 @littlestliu

[autie-j]

Webby is autistic headcanon

From the moment that I first started watching Ducktales back in November 2019 I got serious autistic vibes from Webby. And on my initial watch of the series I decided to take it upon myself to record every bit of evidence that I found throughout the series. I don’t think I have ever had such a strong autistic headcanon before.

There's:

In the first episode she misses the social cue that Louie is lying to Donald. Louie: "Hey, Uncle Donald. Nope, yeah, pretty boring. We napped, rubbed ointment on our joints. Old people stuff." Webby: "Oh, no no what?! What about the dragon? And the plane crash?"

Literally the entirety of 'Daytrip of Doom' but specifically the free water cup scene. Webby: "I was hoping you could hook me up with one of those free water cups, you know for fruit punch." Waitress: "you suuure you don't want it for water?" Webby: "Yes for water, fruity water that really packs a punch, am I right? (Winks with both eyes)" Waitress: "I...I don't know." Webby: "I mean fruit punch" and then not understanding Louie's hand gestures.

This scene:

In 'The Beagle Boys Massacre' Webby shows she has trouble recognizing sarcasm. Lena: "Real smooth moves back there." Webby: "Ha! Thanks! Wait, was that sarcastic?" Lena: "Nope." Webby: "Ha! Thanks! Wait was that-" (also the most relatable dialogue I've ever heard. I've had that conversation like a million times in my life)

In 'The Beagle Birthday Massacre' Dewey: "I don't know what any of that means." Webby: "Now you know how I feel half the time!" which like mood

Special interest in Scrooge McDuck, the supernatural, survival, treasure hunting, etc

Very rule oriented. In Jaw$ she says "are you excited for our sleepover? We're gonna brush our teeth, go to bed on time"

Infodumps a lot about her spins. In Jaw$ she tells Lena without prompting "did you know there's a military grade tuck in that's also used as an interrogation technique?"

"I've read online that the number one sleepover activity is-" she researches what to do in social events.

Doesn't realize how uncomfortable she's making Scrooge when she says she knows everything about him in "From the Confidential Casefiles of Agent 22" and that scene where she just stares at him while he drinks his tea. And just the entirety of that scene where she's talking to Scrooge as he drinks his tea.

And she definitely has issues with personal space as evidenced by the bus scene and this scene

In the Ducktales short Dewey Dew Night: The Sidekick, Dewey says "So you were telling me about something funny that happened in the cursed antiquities room today?" Webby: "No I wasn't, I just got here" Dewey: "No no, earlier. Before the show when we talked about what you would talk about on the show." Webby: "oh right, and you told me to mention that funny thing you said when I accidentally mislabeled an artifact and you said-." Proving that Webby definitely has a tendency to take things literally.

In the Ducktales short "30 Things with Webby Vanderquack", in her list of things she loves to do Webby lists, "laughing, even if I don't get the joke", confirming that she often doesn't get the jokes other people make (it happens often enough for her to comment on it). Also, not getting the joke but laughing along anyway is so relatable

Also in the Ducktales short Webby reacts, Webby shows that she takes things literally when in the Andy Mack video the one character asks the other character to be a couple and Webby responds, “A couple of what?” Also in the same video she says “Awkward like Webby. Oh that’s me” which like relatable

Yup, definitely a spin on Scrooge McDuck. In The Other Money Bin of Scrooge McDuck- Lena: "Its just, Mr. McDuck is pretty cool. I may have caught a bit of the obsession bug from you." Webby: "oh no! Sorry you caught the greatest disease ever! Oh, oh, let's start a fan club!" And she researches her spins extensively and tends to info dump about them. In the same episode- Webby: "But I do have an exhaustively researched presentation on the life and times of Scrooge McDuck!" Lena: "Oh no." Webby: "Scotland 1867, a duckling was hatched to humble beginnings." To which Lena sighs and looks bored. And then the episode cuts to Huey Dewey and Louie and by the time it cuts back Webby is still infodumping about Scrooge and Lena has fallen asleep.

Webby's face when she finds out Castle McDuck holds the secrets for all things Scrooge McDuck which is her spin. And Dewey describes it as a joy overload.

In The Last Crash of the Sunchaser, when Hewey, Dewey, and Louie are trying to act casual and whistling, instead of playing along like they are Webby looks awkward and says, "inconspicuous whistling, just a casual whistle."

In "The Golden Spear" Webby misses the social cue that Huey doesn't want want Donald to know about the tape they're going to watch.

The episode "Friendship Hates Magic" shows another example of Webby having routines. Lena is able to predict everything that Webby is about to do and say, implying that she does the same exact thing every time she visits the library. Lena even says later "sorry she's got a library day routine"

Also Webby says "Hi, I'm Webby so often that I'm convinced it's a script that she's practiced for when she meets new people.

When Webby is trying to think of what other kids like to do and she says, "What do normal kids like? Games! And pie!"

Doesn't recognize/understand when Fenton is flirting with Gandra while Huey does. Misses the social cue. Webby: "Are they fighting?" Huey: "Oh Webby, this is a standard romantic meeting of adults, often known as a meet cute."

She also definitely has hyper empathy as evidenced throughout the series but definitely with how she reacts when Lena reunites with the triplets. 

[slowly-writing]

I Knew You Would

Steve Rogers x Autistic!Reader

Word count: 1.1K

Requested by anon: Sorry if this is weird, but can I request Steve having a girlfriend with autism? If you're not comfortable with that I totally understand!

A/N: I did my best on this, I mean no offence to people with autism, please tell me if I made any mistakes

Also italicized parts are flashbacks

“Hey Steve, when do we get to meet this girl you’re spending all your time with?” Tony teases the second Steve walks into the common room.

“What? No! I don’t spend all my time with her,” he tries to defend himself and Nat rolls her eyes.

“You’ve been gone every night this week and missed the last three movie nights in a row,” she states and he sighs.

“I’m sorry guys, I-”

“It’s not a bad thing Steve,” Clint cuts him off, “we’re glad you found somebody who makes you happy. We just want to know more about this girl who’s obviously really special to you.”

“I don’t know. She’s not great with big crowds or loud noises and you guys can be…a lot,” he says carefully. If you want to disclose your autism to his team he’ll support that, but he wants it to be your call.

“That’s pretty fair,” Tony says with a shrug, knowing hang outs with the team can get crazy, “at least tell us a little about her.”

“I can do that.” Steve’s smile is involuntary as he recalls the story of how you met.

Steve made it a point to try something from this century at least once a month. There is still a lot of adjusting he has to do. He is no way used to the new times so at least once every month he took some time and completed an item on his list. This month’s task is to read the hunger games. Peter said it was super important to his generation. Steve had a feeling he just wanted someone to talk to about the books, but the plotline sounded interesting enough to him. Plus he thought it was kind of adorable to see the kid talk about stuff he loved, so he walked into the book store he found online and started searching for the series.

After about 5 minutes he realized there were way too many options. The store was two stories and had a ton of different sections. He needed to get some help.

“Excuse me?” his voice startles you and you look up to see a tall man standing in front of you.

“Yes?” you ask, staring at his chest rather than his eyes and missing the confused expression he sends you before continuing.

“I’m looking for this book called the hunger games. My friend recommended it. Can you help me find it?” you nod and start walking towards the young adult section of the store.

“It’s technically a kids book so it’s over here,” you explain and he nods, grabbing the books off the shelf and smiling. “Is there anything else I can do?”

“Would you like to talk for a bit? I could always use some new friends,” he offers and you think about it, looking up at his face for a few seconds before looking away. He’s smiling and he doesn’t look mean. Something about him intrigues you so you nod, following him to sit at a table near him.

“So, how long have you worked here?” he asks and you laugh a bit.

“I don’t work here. I just really like this place,” you tell him and he winces.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your day,” he sounds sincere and you just shrug.

“It’s okay. Normally I’d be upset, but you’re really nice. I guess I don’t mind too much.”

“That was 8 months ago, and the rest is history I guess.” The entire team can’t help but share Steve’s smile.

“You should bring her around. I promise we won’t bite,” Bruce says and Steve hesitates for a moment.

“I’ll talk to her about it, but I make no promises.”

xxxxx

“What if they don’t like me?” You ask quietly, staring down at your wringing hands rather than Steve as you talk.

“You make me happy, that’s more than enough for them. I know our jobs make us seem scary, but they’re just people. They’re gonna love you,” at his promise you nod, pulling your hands apart to take one of his. You take a deep breath and play with his fingers as you step out of the elevator together, Steve calling out to his team, “hey guys, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

Within just a few moments the room is full of the remaining five avengers and you tighten your grip on Steve’s hand as you stare at their feet. If it hurts his hand he doesn’t say anything.

“You must be y/n. I’m Natasha,” Nat steps up first. She holds her hand out to shake but you just look up at her face for a moment and give her a small smile.

“Hi,” you say softly and she sends Steve a confused look.

“Y/n doesn’t really shake hands,” he explains before you cut him off.

“I have autism. I don’t like people touching me,” you explain before looking at Steve. After all these months you’re better with making eye contact with him, even if it is still brief. “You didn’t tell them?”

“I wanted that to be your decision,” he explains and you feel a new wave of nerves rushing over you.

“I’m sorry if this makes you think I’m weird,” you say quietly.

“We don’t think you’re weird, y/n. We might not understand, but we’re willing to learn what makes you most comfortable. Everyone has some quirks, and we’re not here to judge you for something you can’t control,” Clint says and you smile.

“I like them,” you tell Steve and he chuckles

“I knew you would.”

xxxxx

“So y/n, if you don’t mind me asking, you said you don’t like people touching you but…” Tony trails off, gesturing to the arm Steve has wrapped around your shoulders. You’ve all moved to the couches and have been talking for a while. You’ve mainly just listened while cuddling into Steve’s side.

“It’s different with people I know. I didn’t let Steve hug me for most of the first four months of our relationship. But now that I know him better I don’t mind as much. It helps me calm down sometimes,” you explain and Tony nods.

“That makes sense. Is there anything else we need to know? I don’t want to accidentally make you uncomfortable,” Natasha asks and you take a moment to think.

“I don’t like loud noises like yelling and stuff. Steve already said that I don’t like being touched, so there’s that too,” you say and Tony pipes up again.

“Better tell the kid to keep it down,” He says and you turn to Steve.

“Does he mean Peter?” you ask and Steve nods.

“He’s at school during the day but he hangs out here a lot. He’s harmless, just excitable,” he explains, “I think you’ll be okay. He isn’t really that bad.”

You take a moment to take in the situation and let yourself smile a bit. It’s a lot to handle, but you think this could be the start of a really good friendship with the people Steve considers family.

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